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devil-in-those-eyes · 3 years

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Joke Part 2- Mat Barzal

Okay, I really didn’t think there would many people who wanted a part two, but if it’s wanted, there might be a part three. I hope you guys enjoy.

Warnings: None? Maybe swearing? I wrote the first half months ago, so my memory if foggy.

“You’re leaving… already?” Jesse and Tito exclaimed together, not missing a beat as you slid you chair back from the brunch table and finishing the last bit of your coffee.

“Not all of us can laze around on Sunday’s.” You answered with a smile, pulling your coat on and grabbing your purse.

Everyone let out grunts and groans that sounded close to displease, but you shook your head and rolled your eyes. You waved goodbye to your friends and smiled at Jesse as he tilted his head back to grin at you as you passed but what, or who, caught your eye was sitting to his left.

Mat sat with his back leaned into the chair, looking the most relaxed out of everyone with one hand in his lap and the other around the black mug of coffee. Dressed in a dark grey sleeve and black jeans, he looked delicious with his hair getting more unruly as the days went on, leaving his scruff and giving you butterflies the whole time.

Mat looked up from his mug and at you, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You mumbled a goodbye, fighting to your cheeks from turning red and keeping a neutral smile on your face. You made your way out of the restaurant, ready to start running errands before you started your work week. New York was somewhat quiet, a small amount of people buzzing around and leisurely enjoying their Sunday.

“Y/N, wait up,” You heard behind you after you got a few steps away from the restaurant.

You turned in your boots to see Mat had just walked out the doors and walking towards you. Your heart clenched and pushed your hands into the pocket of your jacket, “what’s up?”

“I, uh, what are you doing Tuesday night?”

Your eyebrows pulled together, confused by his question as your head suddenly started whirling because was he asking you out? And if he was asking you out, what changed his mind?

“You should come to the game,” he cleared his throat, his hands fisting inside the front pocket of his black jeans. “I know Jesse has an extra ticket, figured it might as well go to you.”

Might as well. Almost like an afterthought, to keep the ticket from going to waste. Normally, you wouldn’t have picked up on his words like that but because you already felt inadequate compared to him and his women he chose to interact with, it was all you could focus on.

“Oh,” you breathed, struggling hard to shake off the disappointment you felt because for a split second you thought he wanted to hangout. “Um.”

“I just thought his ticket would go to waste,” Mat shrugged, playing it off sweet and innocent, as if he didn’t realize he was digging himself a deeper hole. “Jesse always talks about how much you like hockey.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and took a step back, watching his eyes go a little confused as he watched your feet step back. “Maybe,” you answered, giving a tight smile. “Have a good day, Barz.”

Have a good day, Barz?

How did Mat go from Maty, your knight and shinning armor one night, to being Barzy in a matter of less than twelve hours? Mat wasn’t entirely sure where he went wrong and for the next few days he kept going over Sunday morning, while trying to subtly stalk your Instagram. That Sunday morning was beautiful, he woke up with dusty cobwebs on his brain but the second he watched you walk into the restaurant in jeans and a comfy, oversized sweater, he was wide awake. You were quiet in your seat, chugging down coffee like a champ and keeping up with the twenty different conversations while catching Mat’s eyes every few minutes.

Mat thought maybe things changed between the two of you Saturday night, he could still feel your body pressed against his, your warm hands against his chest. The second your hand cupped his jaw, your eyes pleading to walk away, he felt his anger melt away. You were warm against his hot blooded body, calming him down before he realized just how angry that dude made him.

He really wanted you at the game Tuesday night, he wanted to see your face light up the second him and the boys hit the ice. How much Mat knew about you was because of Jesse, because his two best friends were in love with you and just rattled off facts. Mat knew about your job, who your top three hockey teams were (while taking deep pride that the Isles were your number one). He knew what music you liked and what you liked to do for fun. Mat paid more attention to you than you realized, but he had gone wrong somewhere, and he thought asking you to the game was his way of righting it. Except he faltered when you gave him a confused look and he fumbled over his words, feeling like a thirteen year old boy asking out his cooler and totally out of his league crush.

“Have you ever considered just… I don’t know, maybe asking Y/N out?” Tito asked, his voice dripping in sarcasm as he and Mat sat in the locker room after the game.

“You dick, I tried.” Mat answered, groaning. “It’s like she doesn’t even wanna give me the time of day.”

“Huh, wonder why.” Tito mumbled, but Mat definitely heard him and clenched his jaw. “Listen,” Tito lifted his head and cleared his throat, “Jess and I wanna get drinks, why don’t you just… steal her away?”

Mat stared at Tito, wondering if that would really work. He had no doubt that Jesse would be more than happy for Mat to take Y/N off his hands, considering Jesse mentioned them getting together every chance he got, but would Y/N really go off with him? She seemed distracted and distant two days ago. Mat wanted to reach out, something was drawing him to her and he just wanted to keep talking to her, but he didn’t have her number and didn’t want to deal with the way Jesse would look like a Cheshire cat when Mat asked for it. So, he settled for hoping that you’d show up to the game.

And to his shock, you did. It wasn’t like you haven’t been to games, because you’ve been to plenty to support Tito and the boys, but now Mat was one of the boys you were supporting and it made his heart flutter knowing that.

Tito and Mat walked out of the locker room, just after Matt and Sydney bid their goodbyes to Jesse and you. You looked cute, already bundled up for the early November snow in your tan pea coat already done up, your hands holding the New York Islanders knit pom hat that Jesse got for you not that long ago. Your smile was bright, but as you turned away from Matt and Sydney and locked eyes with Mat, it faltered and he noticed your hands start twisting the hat in a nervous habit.

“Great game, boys,” You breathed, smiling at them and welcoming Tito’s warm hug, patting his back and letting your hand fall on his tight stomach as he stood with his arm around your shoulders.

“You see that goal Barzy scored for you?” Tito asked, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking at you. Your heart stopped and your cheeks went pale instead of pink as he said, “Pretty hot, eh?”

Mat ran his fingers through his hair and you could have sworn his cheeks had gone pink, “Shut up, Tito.”

As Mat turned his eyes onto you, you quickly looked away just in time to see Jesse nod at Tito, “You ready to head to the bar?”

“Yes!” Tito exclaimed but you pushed against Tito’s side and his arm dropped from your shoulders.

“I made your asses food,” you looked away from Tito and at Jesse. “You told me they wanted to come over, asshole.”

Jesse rubbed the back of his neck but smirked before motioning to Mat, “Well, Barz doesn’t wanna come out, you two head back and enjoy the food.”

Your eyes shot to Mat and noticed how he looked like he wanted the world to swallow him up, he was avoiding your eyes and glaring at his two friends. Disappointment settled inside your chest because it was clear to you that he didn’t want to go anywhere with you, so as soon as the boys were out of ear shot, you’d let him off the hook.

You rolled your eyes and grumbled about how much you hated Jesse, turning on your heel and leaving the three boys. You had taken this way many times, so you knew the way to the car park where Jesse and the boys had parked and even though you were still annoyed at Jesse, you couldn’t help but join the conversation about the game.

Tito and Mat seemed to be on a high about the game and you were proud of them, as the three boys relived their goals and assists you couldn’t stop the smile on your face but that smile soon left when you reached the doors and stood outside by Jesse and Mat’s cars.

You sighed after you said your goodbyes to Jesse and Tito and grabbed out your phone, about to order and Uber, and when Tito and Jesse got into Jesse’s car you went to go speak to tell Mat he didn’t have to do anything with you but he beat you to it.

“So, what’d you make us for dinner?” Mat asked, still resting against the side of his car, his hands in the front pockets of his jacket.

“Uh, what?” You asked, lifting your head from your phone and looking at him. He was smirking, his hazel eyes looking dark under the night sky and it made your heart flutter because he still hadn’t gotten rid of the scruff and it grew. “Oh, no, Mat. You don’t have to come over.”

“I don’t?” He asked, tilting his head but still smirking.

“No, I mean, why would you?” You asked, huffing out a smile. “I’m gonna get an Uber, you can catch up to the boys and ride out on your high.”

Mat watched you for a hot second, licking hit bottom lip. “Nah, you’re not taking an Uber and I’m not going out tonight, I’m gonna hangout with you.”

“Mat,” you groaned as he unlocked his car and pulled the passenger side door open and he motioned for you to get in. You grimaced, “Mat, you don’t want to hangout with me. I know you don’t.”

Mat didn’t bother arguing with you. He just lowered his eyes, still smirking and pushed off of his car while unlocking it, “Get in the car, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupted deep inside you at the low grumble falling past his lips. You made your way to the passenger side of the car and got in his car, rubbing your hands together as he started his car and let it run for a few minutes.

The ride to your apartment was quiet other than music softly playing between the both of you, it was like the butterflies had paralyzed you and you forgot what it was like to act around a human being. You could barely remember the last time you felt this nervous around a guy and what was more annoying was how relaxed Mat looked as he sat in the drivers seat.

He had one hand on the steering wheel while propping his elbow up on the window sill, the other lightly resting on the gear shift. Every once in a while he rolled his head from side to side, keeping his eyes on the road, but a few times he had taken small glances at you.

How come Mat got to look so perfect while you felt like you were twisted in knots. It was like he was totally fine with spending his evening with you, like he wasn’t actually wishing he didn’t get stuck with you.

Which again, was a joke because there’s no way Mat was fine with Jesse and Tito finally shoving you onto him.

You fiddled with your keys once you reached your door and as you popped it open, you decided to give Mat one last chance to walk away. You turned in the middle of your doorway and sighed.

“Whaaat?” Mat asked, dragging the word out and almost making you smile with that boyish gleam in his eyes.

“Thank you for giving me a ride home, but seriously, you don’t have to hangout with me,” You answered, taking off the hat and pushing your hair off of your neck. “I know you’d rather be with your friends.”

“Y/N,” he said your name slowly and lifted his hand to the wall beside your door. As he leaned in closer, you could smell the cologne that had been teasing you the whole way home. “I’m getting the feeling that it’s you who doesn’t want to hangout with me.”

“What?” You asked, shaking your head. “It’s just,”

“Just, what?” He asked, cutting you off. He saw something in your face that he didn’t like because his eyes softened and he lost the joking smile on his mouth, “I actually want to be here with you, Y/N, but if you don’t want me to stay, then I won’t.”

You took a second to let his words sink in as you nibbled on your lower lip. Realizing that Mat might actually rather spend the high of his win with you, you found yourself murmuring, “So, you didn’t ask me to the game as an after thought?”

In that moment, Mat realized where he had gone wrong Sunday morning. Understanding filled his eyes and he tilted his head to the side. He slowly stepped towards you, dropping his hand from the wall and resting his shoulder against the doorjamb.

“Definitely not,” He murmured, his voice matching yours.

Your cheeks heated up and you lowered your eyes, trying to hide the way your cheeks filled with pink but Mat had seen it and found himself smiling softly.

“Chicken pasta sound good?” You asked.

“I’m starving,” Mat grinned and you backed away, letting him into your apartment.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x you #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #nhl islanders #nhl imagine

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exhaustedfander · 4 years

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One shot request intruality, Patton and Remus having a conversation about their insecurities. Mostly focusing on how they both have times of struggling to understand the other sides ex. Making some changes

This isn’t exactly what was requested, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I had a lot of fun with this one!

Word Count: 3,322

Summary: Recently, Patton and Remus's relationship has begun to change. When Patton lets a pet name slip by accident, a much-needed conversation takes place.

ao3 link

Sweet Pea

To say that Remus hadn’t been expecting any of this would be a gross understatement. He is by no means the kind of side to have too many expectations; when your whole thing is being unpredictable, you learn to stop expecting things and simply see what life chucks your way. Even so, having a relationship with Patton of any kind has thrown him for a loop like very few things can.

It isn’t as though Remus has a vendetta against Patton. Sure, the guy is a lot more clean-cut then his style, which is to say, not a rat-man, and he indulges in far fewer of life’s pleasures than Remus does, but he doesn’t hate him. For a while there, he’d been real fun to mess with, knowing Patton was so afraid of him. So much as walking into a room could set the fatherly side on edge, and wasn’t that just the best? He adored messing with any of the others, but Patton was by far the easiest.

The only problem is, it’s become a hell of a lot less fun with Patton since the massive shift that’s occurred between them. When Janus got accepted into the “good guys,” Remus was convinced that his role likely wouldn’t change – which he was totally fine with! He’s been the same old Duke for years, even if Thomas hadn’t known about him for almost the entirety of his life, and that was okey-doke. But… after Janus found himself a seat at the table, so it seemed, did Remus.

It isn’t as though he’s been given the green light to try and convince Thomas to do absolutely anything he wants to do, as fun as that would be. But the weird thing is, Patton had apologized to him. Morality, who’d been so wary of him for so long, had told him that he had been judging him too harshly and that surely, there was a lot of good in him. Remus isn’t one to have expectations, but that had struck him as odd. Why the fuck would Patton want him to be around, considering all he represented? Why would morality want anything to do with him?

As weird as everything is, Remus had been under the impression that Patton was merely tolerating him, maybe in an attempt to make the others believe he was making nice with everyone. At first, Remus kept up his usual behavior, obnoxious and crude, but it didn’t rattle Patton like it used to. Sure, he’d get a surprised shriek or two when he dangled from the ceiling from one of his tentacles or rose up unexpectedly, but then Patton would simply smile at him and say hello.

Patton isn’t scared of him, not anymore, and Remus doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

He’s used to others being unnerved in his presence, considering who he is. But since Patton has been alright with him hanging around them more and more, he’s noticed them doing more to tolerate him as well. Roman is, well, he isn’t complaining about him quite as much as usual. He’s even stopped chastising him every time he comes into the imagination claiming he’ll “Ruin everything!”, even if it is their shared domain. Virgil still seems fairly irritated with him, but that’s nothing new and Remus doesn’t mind. Logan is being far more considerate of him then he’d think, considering he’d chucked throwing stars at his face before. Janus has always at the very least tolerated him, so that’s just peachy-keen. The other sides are being considerate enough not to complain every time he’s near, but Patton has gone above and beyond in welcoming him lately. And that… is decidedly very weird.

He's invited him to come to dinner, even encouraging that he can eat whatever he wants, no matter how seemingly inedible it is. It’s certainly amusing to see the looks on the other’s faces when he sits down at the dinner table as if he belongs there; he doesn’t think he belongs there, but that’s beside the point.

Patton does everything he can to keep things civil at the table, to a point where Remus is almost impressed if he weren’t such an agent of chaos himself. He nips blossoming spats between Virgil and Janus in the bud as quickly as they arise and he tells jokes and puns that Remus can’t help but find a little endearing, in a silly, dad way. Remus decides to tell some jokes of his own, and while they are on the harsher and more disgusting side, he elicits a few chuckles from Patton while the rest of them simply roll their eyes.

It doesn’t make any sense; Patton has just stopped being terrified of him, and now here he is, morality, giggling at Remus’s mention of cannibalism. Has the world gone mad? Has he gone mad? Quite possibly.

Things only grow stranger from that point on. Patton speaks often with Remus, encouraging him that they are getting to be “real good friends” and Remus is even invited to movie nights (“I’m afraid your birthday suit is not an acceptable outfit for movie night, kiddo).

It isn’t hard to tell that the others are at least somewhat displeased with him being there, for the most part. Sure, Janus doesn’t have any problems with him, and Logan doesn’t seem to hate him, but Roman is clearly very agitated and Virgil seems to be doing everything in his power to ignore him. And yet Patton, of all sides, continues to provide so much warmth and joy his way it almost made him want to puke.

Remus isn’t used to this kind of treatment. Even with Janus, someone he considers his closest friend, there is very little affection between them. Remus is used to being the gross one, the nuisance, the “problem child.” Being fawned over is a completely new experience and one he can’t decide how he feels about. Patton isn’t scared of him anymore, and that was kind of a bummer at first, but now? Well, now Remus isn’t quite sure what the hell is going on.

After movie night of a few Disney films, everyone else had decided to hit the hay, yet Patton and Remus remain. Remus is sure any moment now Patton will rise from his spot and declare that he is going to sleep, too. Except… that isn’t what happens.

Instead, Patton asks Remus if he has any movie recommendations, something they could watch, just the two of them.

“I don’t think my kind of movies are really your style, Pattycake,” Remus insists, thoroughly shocked that Patton would so much as ask. The fatherly side shakes his head.

“Well, that doesn’t mean we can’t give it a try. I’d like to watch something you enjoy for a change,” Patton says, smiling kindly, “If it’s really that bad, I’m sure I could just let you know.” That seems okay, Remus supposes.

“Yeah, alright. But don’t complain to me when you get sweet little nightmares,” Remus warns, though in actuality he doesn’t plan on showing Patton anything too intense. Before, the idea of giving Patton nightmares was positively delicious, but now – now it made him feel kinda sick, and not in a good way, either.

Remus decides to pop in The Cabin in the Woods, seeing as it is a comedy as well as horror and fairly silly, despite the gore. He’s sure Patton won’t be too much of a fan of it and bail out early on, and yet here he remains, sitting close to him on the couch and looking intently at the screen.

Remus realizes maybe he doesn’t know as much about Patton as he thought he did when he giggles a bit at a scene of people being mascaraed by a large group of monsters running amuck, laughing particularly hard when a character meets a gruesome fate at the hand of a less than conventionally attractive merman. All the while the movie has been going, Remus notices that Patton has been inching closer and closer until his head is resting on his shoulder. The thought of Patton willingly being so close to him sends a strange feeling of contentment through him. For most of their lives, Patton has been so wary of him, and now he’s almost as close as he can get. Why would something as silly as Patton laying his head on his shoulder make him feel so strange?

Remus is almost positive that he is going to burst into flames when Patton smiles at him once the film had ended and says: “I don’t know what you were worried about. That was a really fun movie, Sweet Pea.”

Remus jerks away, scooting to the edge of the couch while Patton shoots him a look of concern.

“Remus, are you okay?”

“What… what did you just call me?” Patton blinks.

“…Huh?”

“You called me Sweet Pea. Why – why the hell did you do that for?” Even in the fairly dark living room, Remus can see the blush that’s spread across Patton’s face, meaning his own flushed cheeks are visible as well. Patton wrings his hands, apprehension present in the action.

“W-well, I dunno, I guess it just kinda… slipped?” Patton offers weakly, praying Remus will accept the answer without fighting it any more than that. Of course, that’s not to be the case.

“It slipped?” Remus asks incredulously. “Why in the world would you use a word like that to describe me?” Patton doesn’t respond for a moment, his eyes settled on his lap, refusing to answer Remus’s burning question. After a minute or so, though, Patton speaks.

“Things have been different between us lately, haven’t they?”

The question hangs heavy in the air. Remus barely knows how to respond. Of course, things have been different; Patton’s actively professed he enjoys hanging-out, to say things hadn’t changed would be a blatant lie.

“I mean… yeah. You’ve been all sweet with me, I guess. Which you get is weird, right?”

“Why would it be weird?” Patton asks, so genuinely it hurts.

“Because,” Remus says as though Patton’s a lunatic for asking the question, gesturing vaguely to himself, “I’m me! Intrusive thoughts, remember? Everything nasty that’s been shut away for the last thirty-years; everything you hate.” Patton’s mouth creases into a frown.

“I don’t hate you, Remus. I… well, I never have. I was just scared of you, once, but I just didn’t understand you then.” Remus scoffs.

“And now you understand me completely?”

“I never said that. But…” Patton hesitates, biting his lip before extending Remus his hand, “I want to. I want to know you better. I was so lost in the belief that I knew best for so long… and I’ll always be sorry for that. I’m sorry for the way that I treated you and Janus; it wasn’t right of me. Not at all. But I’m trying. I want to know you guys. I want to know you, Remus.”

Remus retracts his hand, the warmth in his chest bursting into flames, a fire that’s sure to burn down everything that it touches.

“You don’t want that,” he insists, his eyes training on the wall, eager to avoid the heavy weight of Patton’s gaze.

“But I do!”

“No, you just think you do,” Remus grits through his teeth, the fire bathing him in a horrible warmth, “You – you just think you want that. But you don’t. You’re too sweet for that. Too sweet to know me that way. You’ll quit while you’re ahead if you know what’s good for you.” Remus rises to his feet, positive the fire is enveloping him now, positive to burn him to the ground. With each passing second, he burns a little brighter, skin melting and bones turning to ash. The feeling is something horrible, he realizes, more abhorrent than anything he could possibly conjure.

Remus is falling in love with Patton.

Remus shivers as Patton grabs a hold of his wrist, keeping him from feeling. Doesn’t he get it; Remus is trying to keep him from perishing in the fire as well. He’ll die alone, go up and smoke if it means Patton is safe.

“Patton – let go,” Remus says, the request a beg more than anything else. Patton shakes his head, determination brimming in his eyes.

“I won’t. I’m not letting you leave, Remus.”

Remus pulls harder, shocked by the sheer strength Patton is exhibiting. If it were anyone else, he’d do anything to escape, biting, scratching, and clawing his way out, if necessary. But Patton isn’t anyone else and he’s been stupid enough to develop dangerously strong feelings. Patton calling him something so soft and painfully domestic has awoken something fragile in him, and he intends to put an end to it.

“Why not? Why the fuck are you trying so hard to be nice to me? Why do you care?”

“Because…” Patton swallows the lump in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets go and admits it, “I like you!”

“Wh-what?”

“I said: I like you. I’ve been spending time with you because I want to. I want you to feel welcomed, I want you to know you have a place here. But also because I like you. A lot.” Finally, Patton’s released him, and yet Remus can’t find it in himself to run away.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But I do!” Patton maintains, his eyes burning with a sincerity that’s scaring the hell out of Remus, “Lately, I’ve seen you light up and… I like that. I like seeing you so much happier, I like seeing you and Jan joking in the commons and at the dinner table. I like it when you greet me in silly ways when you hang from the ceiling with your tentacles or jump from behind the couch. I like the time we spend together; I like that I’m getting to know you more.

“I like you, Remus. And if you don’t feel the same… then I understand. If I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry… again. But I need you to understand that I want this, I want to hang out, I want to watch movies that you pick out. I want you to be real with me because you can! I’m not afraid of you anymore, and I never want to be ever again. Liking you is much better than that.”

Remus doesn’t know how to respond. The fire is incasing him now, but he’s not sure if he’s going to be reduced to a pile of ashes anymore. Patton is offering so much, more than he realizes. He’s offering the kindness he’s already shown him, offering understanding unlike he’s ever known, offering intimacy unlike he’s ever experienced. And he could turn away and forget this ever happened if he so desired. Patton’s giving him that option, too, no matter how much it’s clear that he doesn’t want to. All because of some sappy nickname being said accidentally, Remus is being extended an opportunity he never envisioned for himself.

Remus has the chance to get to know Patton for everything that he is, faults and all, a chance to see the moral side down to his very core. And, in turn, he’s being given the chance to be known himself, in a way he didn’t think anyone would ever truly be interested. It would be a major understatement to say he’s a little overwhelmed.

“Do you… do you mean it?” He hates the vulnerability in his wavering voice, threatening to break. He hasn’t felt so overrun by emotions of this caliber in years, used to being brushed aside and ignored. Patton smiles, so genuinely Remus is almost positive the heart he wasn’t aware of owning is about to burst.

“With all my heart,” Patton says, and that’s the straw that breaks the Camel’s back.

Remus launches himself forward, throwing his arms around the moral side and burying his face in his neck. Patton stiffens for a moment, caught off-guard before returning the embrace with nearly as much vigor.

“Me too,” Remus says, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he clings to Patton, the fire no less lively but dying down in terms of threat, “I like you too, Patton. A-a lot. More than bugs, or blood and guts, or all the deodorant in the world.” Patton laughs at that, the sound bright and so full of joy as he runs a hand through Remus’s frazzled hair.

“Well, what a lucky guy I am,” Patton says, though his tone is nothing but serious.

After a moment they part long enough to sit back down on the couch, though Remus is quick to place himself right in Patton’s lap, his legs wrapping around the moral side’s waist. Remus has never known much in the ways of personal space and Patton is almost always eager to hug the nearest person to him, combining to an unlikely but very cuddly pair.

“Hey, Remus, how many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?” Patton asks. The smile that’s crept onto Remus’s face and refused to leave grows.

“I dunno, Pattycake, how many?”

“Ten tickles!” Patton says before unleashing an onslaught of tickles onto Remus, earning a trail of giggles Patton is sure is one of the loveliest things he’s ever heard.

“Sta-stop it! knock it off, Pat or I’ll-I’ll claw your eyes out!” Remus warns jokingly, peeling off into another peel of laughter before Patton stops.

“Hey, Sweet Pea?” Patton asks after a moment. The nickname surprises Remus, but this time he’s a little more prepared for it.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, his hands cupping Remus’s face gently. Remus nods quickly, smiling as Patton leans in and closes the gap. The embrace is gentle, perhaps gentler than would be expected of Remus, but it’s nothing short of incredible. Remus relishes in the feeling of Patton’s soft lips, his hands burying themselves in Patton’s curls.

“Hey,” Remus says as they break apart, already intent on kissing Patton senseless the next chance he gets. For now, though, he’s drowning in the warmth that’s surrounding him, in the softness he’s suddenly been allowed.

“Hi,” Patton responds, his smile just as wide as Remus’s.

“You’re a damn good kisser, Cookie.” Patton turns three shades redder in a matter of seconds. “Aww, you got all embarrassed! You like me calling you my cookie?”

“Stop it, Remus!” Patton says with a giggle.

“What? You’re so sweet, I can’t help it.” “Remus.”

“Oh, so you can call me sweet pea, but I can’t call you cookie. How’s about my buttercup? Honeybee? Cutie Pie?”

“Remus,” Patton says, before pressing his lips to the intrusive side’s again, effectively silencing him.

Not long ago, Patton was terrified of Remus. Terrified of what he represented and what that could mean for Thomas. But that isn’t the case anymore, not nearly. Affection has grown between them without either of them realizing. They still don’t entirely know each other, not yet. But they will. Patton’s grown so much, accepting the faults in his thinking, and with Remus’s help, he’s sure he’ll continue to change for the better.

Remus never counted on intimacy, not seeing how it could possibly be in the cards. And yet here he is, embracing someone he hasn’t always understood but is now so desperate to now. Remus doesn’t entirely know if he’s built for this kind of tenderness, knowing that it wouldn’t be impossible for things to shift back and for Patton’s fear to remerge. For now, though, Remus doesn’t focus on the nagging thoughts of what could go wrong, simply embracing what’s right in front of him.

They put on another movie, going to bed at a reasonable time out the window, though it takes very little time for them to fall asleep in each other’s arms, the TV still playing some long since forgotten horror movie.

=+=

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@nadiestar

@unoriginalgayboyalex

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mellifluoushood · 4 years

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Lonely Heart - C.H.

A/N: Hey there, tonight/today I’m bringing you a somewhat soft, not really angsty fic, where she’s upset and Calum comforts her and it’s friends to lovers! It’s kind of a follow up to Thin White Lies but can be read without it with no hindrance to your experience! As always, let me know what you think and feel free to request things! Love you the mostest. xxx Genre: angst / fluff / smut Type: blurb / imagine / series Warning: drinking, sad boi hours, brief mentions of weed, talk of abuse, friends to lovers! Word Count: 3.7k Taglist: @gigglyirwin @loveroflrh @ammwritings @calumscalm @dukehoods @toofadedtofight @babylon-corgis

The bass thudded against her chest like a sledgehammer. Her skin sticky and damp, sweat and moisture in the air clinging to the moisturiser she smeared on her skin earlier in the night. She could smell the scent of cigarettes, booze and perspiration. When she would stumble through crowds, she recognised a mix of female perfumes and overpowering men’s deodorants. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth after several joints and one too many jello shots. Her legs shook in her heels, the muscles in her legs unable to keep up with how long she had been wearing them. One hand spent most of the night on her hip, occasionally tugging down the hem of her tight dress to cover her ass that threatened to poke out the bottom. The other held a drink. And honestly, she spent the whole night nursing drink after drink.

Calum watched from a distance, noticing the way her movements became lethargic and she stayed relatively quiet amongst their group of friends. She was the life of the party most nights, screaming lyrics at the top of her lungs and encouraging shot after shot, never quitting until she couldn’t put one foot in front of the other and Ashton had to help her into whatever guest-room in the boy’s house she could find. Most of the time, Calum was right there with her, poking at Ashton’s cheek and slurring declarations of love for one of his best friends. But, from the first shot during prinks, he could tell this was a night that he needed to look out for her. He noticed her unwavering facial expression during tequila shots - the shots she both loved and hated.

When her favourite song came on, their song, she didn’t move. She didn’t circle to the middle of the club, dragging one of the girlfriends with her to scream at the top of their lungs. And he hated seeing her like that. Instead, she wandered to the bar to order another slew of shots she didn’t need but wanted. When she was a sad drunk, she was more functional. She was in her head, fully, able to concentrate on what was happening inside of her, allowing herself to have more control over what she exuded.

Calum excused himself from Ashton’s sober rant about politics and Luke’s incoherent giggles after one too many tequila shots himself. He pushed through the crowd of faces he somewhat recognised, but didn’t look long enough to put a name to. She usually hated Hollywood clubs, feeling like an outsider being brought into a world she didn’t one hundred per cent understand, but when the guys suggested it tonight, she had no objections. Signal number two.

When he saw her at the bar doing a line of shots by herself, signal number three.

“Whatcha doin’ there, honey?” He asks gently, watching as she knocks back a fifth and last tequila shot. She looks over at him without grabbing the lime the bartender had left for her,

“Hopin’ to blackout,” she states bluntly, her facial expression completely blank. If it were any other night, Calum would’ve busted out into a fit of giggles, gripping the bar to steady his tipsy head as he lost it. But, he can hear the honesty underneath her words. It wasn’t a joke tonight.

“You wanna talk about it?” Calum presses, eyebrows furrowing together as he looks down at her stature.

“Do I look ‘ike I wanna talk about it?” She deadpans, pulling her card out of her phone case to pay. Calum sticks his arm out, stopping her and nodding at the bartender to put it on the boys’ tab.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she comments, grabbing her vodka and orange juice and heading back towards their group of friends. He follows behind her, placing a hand on her lower back, guiding her and letting her know he’s right behind her,

“And neither did you,” Calum points out as they push through the mass of sticky skin and wandering eyes. Her head swivels on her shoulders, lethargically, giving him a look before turning around. He could tell by the way she was walking the tequila shots hadn’t quite entered her blood stream yet. If it was quiet enough, he could probably hear the rumbling in her stomach of the alcohol disturbing the peace, but the music was too overbearing and their song was over.

He finds their friends at a reserved booth, several standing and several sitting, mingling and drinking, singing and laughing. He steps in front of her to press Luke further into the booth. He nudges his head to the side, signalling for him to scoot. He rolls his eyes playfully but does, yet Calum isn’t in the mood to joke around. Not when she’s so clearly in a bad headspace. He turns to her, patting the empty spot on his left. He can see her chest inhale deeply and exhale, the fishnet top underneath the spaghetti strap dress stretching with her movements. He assumes the exhale was a sigh as she sits down next to him, placing her drink on the table. He places his arm around the back of the booth, leaning in to hear her.

“What’s going on with you?” He asks. It isn’t accusatory or angry, simply a question about what was swimming around her head besides the alcohol. Her eyes are fuzzy when she looks up at him, glazed over and spaced out, her mind far away from the club they were in right now. She shrugs in response.

Calum bites his lip and looks around at their group of friends, all too preoccupied and intoxicated to notice if they were to slip out and he was to take her home and put her to bed. Ashton locks eyes with Calum. He quirks his head in question,

“I’m gonna take her home,” Calum mouths, sparing a glance at the woman to his left. She had zoned out again, gently running her thumb up and down the condensation that was forming on her plastic cup. He looks back at Ashton who nods, giving him a tight-lipped smile and mouthing, ‘Good luck’.

“C’mon, honey, I’m gonna take you home,” Calum sighs out, nudging her the way he had nudged Luke earlier. She looks up at him, frowning slightly, but following his instructions. She stumbles slightly when she climbs out of the seat, her heels wobbling. Calum is quick to stand up with her, grabbing at her waist and holding her steady. She doesn’t turn around to thank him.

He shrugs his leather jacket off as he wanders through the crowd with her, always having one hand on her as she navigates her way to the exit. When they push through the doors and up the stairs from the underground club, the cool breeze of the night brushes past her bare legs and he notices the way she shivers. He drapes the jacket over her shoulders without being asked. This time, she turns around with a small smile, eyes still far away as her mind wanders to the far corners of the earth.

She tucks her arms through the sleeves of the jacket, allowing the heaviness of the leather to weigh down her shoulders instead of it being her thoughts. Calum steps in front of her, crouching down and holding out his arms, signalling her to climb onto his back. She sighs, knowing not to argue with him, and climbs on. It takes a moment, her motor functions delayed and slurred as she tries to coordinate her limbs to cling onto him. When he has a grip on her thighs, he hoists her further up on his back and begins walking down the sidewalk to the taxi bay. In the silence of the night, Calum looks at the palm trees planted in the sidewalk and the smell of the ocean only two blocks away. He doesn’t press her any further as she rests her cheek against his shoulder.

“He messaged me tonigh’,” she finally slurs and letting out a hiccup, eyelashes fluttering shut, brushing the skin of Calum’s neck. His grip on her thighs gets tighter, but she’s too intoxicated to notice, “Tol’ me he’s thinkin’ ‘bout me and all that,” hiccup, “jazz.”

Calum’s silent, searching for the right words. He doesn’t want to upset her, just like the night she had called him over to get stoned with her, but he knows he has to say something.

He waits until they’re at the taxi bay, feeling her start to drift off on his shoulder,

“C’mon, sweet pea,” the nickname is new, “We gotta get in the taxi.” She nods against his shirt before he crouches again, allowing her to slide down his back. He keeps his hands on her thighs until he knows she’s sturdy and won’t stumble in her heels. He grabs her hand, not interlacing their fingers as a couple would, but to simply hold onto her as he searches for an empty taxi. One of the taxi men rolls down the window to him,

“Where to?” He asks and Calum rattles off his address. He didn’t want her home alone tonight. The taxi driver nods and unlocks the doors. Calum opens the back door for her, letting her crawl into the taxi. He follows, noticing the way her limbs are moving incredibly slowly and her head lulls from side to side.

When she’s in the taxi and comfortable, Calum follows her movements and joins her, shutting the door behind him. The taxi takes off and Calum turns to look at her. Her shoulders are slouched, covered in his leather jacket, swallowed whole by the material. Her hair is a little frizzy, the humidity of Los Angeles air aggravating her curls, head against the headrest.

“Can I tell you something?” Calum asks, mirroring her body language, pressing his head to the headrest and looking at her eyes, tinted pink and completely glassy, almost as if she’s going to cry, but he knows it’s just the alcohol. It always is.

“Mhm, go ‘head,” she slurs, her eyes still focused on his as he takes a deep breath and collects his thoughts,

“You’re prolonging the inevitable, not blocking him. Unless you plan on always having him in your life.” Calum reaches out to push a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to decipher the look in her eyes. They say defeated.

“I guess I never looked at it ‘ike tha’,” she mutters, her syllables jumbled together as her tongue gets the way of her words.

“Hit the block button and never look back. Knowing that he can’t hit you up at random, convenient times will bring you a certain peace, I promise you,” Calum’s voice is soft, soothing as she looks up at him like he’s preaching wisdom from the gods above. He gives her a sad smile,

“And remember,” he sighs, getting ready to say the last part, “It’s all convenience. Does he really care about you? Nope, probably not. Don’t let anyone, not just him, use you like that.” He watches as her gaze casts to his button-down shirt, afraid to look him in the eye.

“Hey,” he says, using his thumb and forefinger to get her to look him in the eye, “You know this doesn’t mean anything negative about you, right?” She shrugs, “I haven’t gone through exactly what you have, but I’ve known people who have been abused before. I’ve seen the trauma and I know how easy they can reel you back in and I promise you, it’s not your fault. What happens to him doesn’t matter anymore and do you know why?” She shakes her head, “He treated you like shit and he still does. He’s clearly still a manipulative asshole and he does not deserve to have you in his life.” Calum’s eyebrows furrow as he gives her a sympathetic look. She nods slowly, looking up at him,

“Than’ you, Cal,” she scoots over to him, her heels clacking against the middle console as she gets comfortable, tucking herself into his chest. His heart lurches at her movements, but he wraps his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer,

“Do not bless him with your presence if it causes you any negativity. You deserve so much better than that.” He can feel her lips stretch into a small smile against his chest before she nods. He thinks about the makeup that will be smeared against the black t-shirt, but he doesn’t care. He looks down at her, running one hand through her hair, gently unknotting small sections. She’s cloaked in his leather jacket, face pressed against his chest and he can’t help but feel like she’s his girl. But she’s not. Maybe he’ll ask her, in the morning, after she’s blocked him and ready to move on. Not tonight.

The taxi driver pulls up to his address. Calum thanks him and pays the fare, making sure to leave him a generous tip. Calum opens the door for both of them, getting out first and helping her climb out of the vehicle. She stumbles, which he anticipates, but helps steady her by resting his hands on her waist. She looks up at him with a small smile. Once the taxi is gone, he turns around, like he had done at the club and offers her a piggyback ride. He hears a small giggle, one that brings the widest smile to his face, deprived of hearing the melody all night.

He feels her teeter before jumping onto his back, letting out a small ‘oof’ at the impact. He grabs her thighs, hoisting her up further and walking up his driveway. She curls her arms around his neck, the sound of the leather squeaking against his ear. He drops a peck to her hand that rests at his chest,

“Than’ you, Cal, ser’ously,” she mumbles, dropping her head to his shoulder again.

“Of course, sweet pea,” he responds, approaching his front door. He lets go of one of her thighs, holding her up with the other, and fumbling for the keys in his front pocket. He unlocks the front door and enters the house, closing the door behind him and turning on the hall light. She moves to get down, but he clutches her thigh again, hoisting her up again and heading up the stairs and to his bedroom. She settles into his movements, fully pressing her front to his back. He can feel the way her chest moves with each breath she takes and the faint beat of her heart.

The thought alone makes him smile as he pushes open his bedroom door, kicking his boots off and sliding his socks against the carpet, hearing her own heels clatter to the floor beneath them. He brings her into the ensuite, turning and setting her on the countertop. He turns around and is met with her hazy eyes and lazy smile.

“Hi there,” she slurs, resting her back against the mirror. He chuckles and fumbles for the makeup wipes he keeps in one of the drawers in his bathroom. He grabs one from the package,

“Take off your lashes,” he instructs her. She giggles, her mood a complete switch since their conversation in the taxi. She uses her acrylic nails to peel the falsies off and Calum has to keep himself from wincing at the sight. She places them on the counter top and Calum mentally makes a note which is the left and which is the right. He uses his hands to part her thighs, stepping in between them and beginning to wipe the makeup off her face. She giggles again. Her hands fumble for the thick chain hanging around his neck,

“You’re too goo’ for me, Cal,” she says, believing her words are true. He shakes his head,

“You’re too good for me, honey,” he comments, “You’re the kindest soul I’ve ever met, me included,” he jokes. She quirks a smile, her mood fluctuating as the alcohol pumps through her system in varying degrees, “But what I said is the truth. It’s not hard to tell you the truth.”

“I know,” she sighs, her words still slurring, if not more than earlier, “I just... I have feelin’s for you and every time I feel it in my chest tha’ I’m ready, he comes in and starts fuckin’ with my head,” she explains. Calum’s breath catches in his throat at her drunken admission, heart speeding up to what feels like a thousand beats per minute. He bites at his bottom lip, trying to control the way his body reacts to those five words, ‘I have feelings for you’. She’s drunk, he thinks, she doesn’t mean it.

“Honey-”

“I know, I know,” she chastises herself, “I’m drunk. Well, way pas’ drunk, sloshed, but hey, it’s trueee,” she shrugs as if she hadn’t just made his heart soar. He keeps his smile at bay,

“We’ll talk about it in the morning, if you remember,” he comments and she rolls her eyes. He presses his fingertips to her eyelids, signalling to shut them. She does and he takes a new wipe, removing the eyeshadow.

“Oh, I’ll ‘member,” she says, “Par’ of the reason I was so upset by him tonight,” she hiccups, “was because I had the revelation tha’ I really fuckin’ like you last night when you and I were watchin’ Brooklyn Nine-Nine,” hiccup, “an’ you began mouthin’ the words,” she rambles, her syllables a jumbled mess, but Calum can make them out, “Because,” she hiccups again, “You ha’ been watchin’ it by yourself. An’ tha’ made me so happy.”

Calum gives her a small smile, finishing removing her makeup.

“C’mere,” he pulls her thighs towards him so he can put an arm underneath her knees. He lifts her up, cradling her to his chest and carrying her into his bed. She’s still in her dress, “Can you get changed yourself?”

She nods lethargically, eyes fluttering open and shut. He walks into his closet, taking a deep breath and pushing his thoughts and feelings to the back of his mind, to be dealt with when she’s not drunk and asleep. He grabs her favourite shirt, ‘Did you get the sensation today?’ and a pair of biking shorts she had left at his. When he emerges from the closet, he hears her whispering a song to herself, humming the melody when there were no words to be sung,

“If you leave me in the mornin', I'll have such a— Such a lonely heart, oh woah,” her head nods from side to side, flopping back onto the bed, “If you can't find another reason to stay, Then I know I'm gonna always have a lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely Heart,” she sings to herself, her volume increasing. She pauses, counting the amounts of ‘lonely’ and singing them again to make sure she had it right before Calum approaches the bed and sits next to her,

“These are for you,” he reaches out and runs his hand along her hair.

“Hm, than’ youuu,” she starts to tug down her dress without thought. Calum looks away, a blush rising on his cheeks before he gets up,

“I’ll go get you water,” when he returns, she’s curled up under the covers, on her side and facing the door, eyes drooping as she waits for him. He hands her the glass of water. She drinks it in one go,

“I’mma fuckin’ pro at ‘his,” she smiles to herself and Calum can’t help but shake his head, a small smile lingering on his lips, too.

“I know, sweet pea. Now, go to sleep,” he strokes her hair again and she shakes her head, “No’ until you’re wit’ me.”

“I was going to get you more water,” he puts the glass on the bedside table, walking around to his side of the bed and stripping down. She slowly turns around to face him, watching as his fingers unbutton his shirt, popping out of it’s place. She soaks the tan skin that’s being exposed to her. He shrugs off the shirt and begins to undo his belt and she has to keep herself in check. She’s seen him strip so many times before, drunk and sober, but there’s something in the air that lingers now. Her confession. And his lack of response.

“Do you have feelin’s for me, too?” She asks, eyes looking up at his face. He freezes. He swears she can hear the way his breath hitches in his throat and his eyes widen slightly. He catches himself, clearing his throat and continuing to undress for bed.

“We can talk about it in the morning,” Calum compromises, not wanting the first time he actually says he has feelings for her and not skirting around it to be when she’s drunk.

She shakes her head, “I won’ be able to sleep if I don’ know.”

He sighs, crawling into bed with her and grabbing her waist. He pulls her flush against his chest, pressing his hand into her lower back. He looks down at her, with a small smile,

“Yes, sweet pea, I have feelings for you, too,” he kisses her forehead and her face lights up in both drunken happiness and the happiness that strikes her heart like a gong.

“Hm,” she huffs out, “Good.”

Calum bites at his lip, “Go to sleep, sweet pea.”

He doesn’t get a response except for her breathing beginning to turn heavy.

#isabella writes #CH #calum hood #calum hood blurb #calum hood fic #calum hood fluff #calum hood imagine #calum hood smut #5sos #5sos blurb #5sos fic #5sos fluff #5sos imagine #5sos smut

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statticscribbles · 3 years

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Appendix

Summary: Archie/Sweet Pea Request: Sweet Pea stays at the Andrew’s house waking up feeling sick so Archie takes care of him along with Fred, who notices it seems to be his appendix, cue them rushing to the hospital; and cute boyfriend fluff please.

Archie’s not a light sleeper so when he can hear Sweet Pea vomiting he knows something is wrong. Still he doesn’t wake his dad, just hovering behind Sweet Pea till he finishes puking. “What’s wrong?” “Hurts.” He hisses through grit teeth. “Where?” “Side stomach. It’s fine probably-“ Sweet Pea doesn’t finish stumbling and crashing into the wall as Archie helps him back to bed. They can hear Fred moving around and it’s not long before he appears in the doorway. “You two decent.” “Yeah, Sweet Pea puked and-“ They both cringe when the light flicks on however Archie gapes at Sweet Pea. “Christ you look gray, you sure it’s not food poisoning?” “Unless I got the only undercooked slices of pizza.” He shrugs a little and Fred watches him. “We should get you down stairs.”

“Why?” Sweet Pea questions and Fred crouches down, nudging his side, Sweet Pea hisses in pain. “Did it hurt more when I pressed or when I let go?” “Let go.” “Downstairs is a good idea.” “Why?” “Good news it’s not food poisoning; bad news, it seems like it’s your appendix.” “You know all that cause you jabbed my side?” Sweet Pea leans half over the stair railing as Archie walks down with him. “That and the fact you’re going from gray tinted to green to white with every movement.” “It’s fine, just probably-“ Sweet Pea bite on his hand when Fred once again jabs his side. “Appendix, we should go to the ER.” “No I can-“ “You can die is what you can do if it’s not fixed. Right dad?” Archie looks worriedly and Fred nods.

“It wouldn’t be- Archie! Put Sweet Pea down!” Fred follows him out to the truck where Archie’s awkwardly trying to climb into the cab while still holding Sweet Pea. “Archie, calm down. We’re about a ten minute drive.” “I know.” Fred sighs at the tremor in Archie’s voice. “Arch; hey he’s gonna be fine, the worst he’s gonna have is a scar and two weeks worth of you doing everything for him; which he already has to put up with; look he’s asleep; it’s fine.” ‘What if he passed out! Dad what if-“ “You worrying isn’t going to help him.” “But-“ ‘the longer you talk the longer he waits.” Archie quiets immediately and the ride to the hospital is silent aside from Sweet Pea trying to convince Fred to take him back home. “I can just walk back from the hospital.” “You can barely walk without me holding onto you.”

“Maybe I just want you to think that.” Sweet Pea winks before stumbling as Archie catches him and pulls him back up. “I might’ve lied just now.” “You think?” Archie glares as Fred checks him in and then the nurses coral Sweet Pea onto a stretcher. “Any Allergies? Dietary restrictions?” “Penicillin and none.” “Alright, we’re going to do an ultrasound just to check if we can see anything, sometimes it’s not your appendix but an ulcer that flared up. But we’ll take you back now.” “So I’m gonna die right?”

“What?” Archie jerks from the seat he’d taken. Fred glares at Sweet Pea who nods. “Anytime you go straight back in the ER its cause you’re gonna die.” “Don’t say that.” Fred glares as Archie looks more distressed. “Sorry, I’m gonna be fine Arch; I bet I’ll be back in five minutes.” -Archie lasts twenty minutes after that before he starts pacing and Fred sends him down to the canteen to get them both coffee. Archie doesn’t drink his and Fred pries the cup from his shaking hands. “It’ll be fine, just rest, it won’t help him if you’re exhausted.” Archie shrugs but nods leaning against his dads shoulder. “Thank you.” “For what?” “Being here.” “Well I’m not leaving my son or his boyfriend alone to deal with this, god knows you don’t even know how to wrap your own hands for boxing half the time.” “I’m not ambidextrous, I can’t get them even.” Fred nods smirking. “Of course, nothing to do with Sweet Pea kissing you when he does it for you.” Archie scoffs turning his face away. “No that’s ridiculous.” Fred shakes his head sighing as he closes his eyes to rest.

“Dad, dad!” He cracks one eye open to see Archie peering at him. “What’s happened?” “Nothing it’s just been a full hour and no one’s said anything.” “You can go ask you know.” Archie nods and Fred sighs, pulling Archie back to sit down when he notices how shaky he is. It’s three more hours before anyone moves towards them and Fred keeps his hand on Archie’s shoulder to prevent him from body slamming the doctor out of the way.

Sweet Pea looks surprisingly small and washed out on the hospital bed, he’s half awake; trying to focus on the shapes. “I got stabbed. So many times.” He half mumbles and Archie, who Fred didn’t even see move is sitting next to him. “No you just got your appendix out.” “Surgery is stabbing just legal.” He nods seriously and Archie turns away to laugh. “So he should be good to go once he wakes up more you can sign his discharge papers and-“ “THEY SHAVED ME.” Sweet Pea looks up distressed to the nurses and the Andrews who seem shocked at his shouting; in reality they’re trying not to laugh once more. “I mean they did have to do surgery; it was probably cleaner overall.” Fred offers and Sweet Pea nods yawning.

“Alright I finished signing everything and called FP to let him know so he’s going to come settle up.” “Settle up?” “The Serpent’s have a medical fund; it’s normally not needed since they don’t get into many serious fights, but they all usually try to donate a bit in case.” Archie nods about to pick Sweet Pea up but the nurse pulls him back. “Hospital policy, wheelchair until he gets into the car or off the property.” “Oh sorry.” “It’s no problem.” She smiles offering the handles to Archie. “Back home then?” He questions and Fred nods. “I’ll have to pick up his prescription in a few hours; so you’ll be on nurse duty.” He nods sternly in response watching Sweet Pea lean into him. “I’ll be gone maybe an hour depending on wait times he should just sleep.” Fred leaves once he helps Archie move Sweet Pea onto the couch. “Is he gone?” Archie turns and Sweet Pea smirks.

“Were you awake the entire time.” “Sorta, lotsa drugs, lots of ‘em.” “Are you hungry at all?” Sweet Pea blinks nodding slowly. “What’s wrong.” “Food sounds good but also thirsty.” “You know you can have water and food right? It’s not one or the other.” Archie laughs pushing a glass of water towards him while he moves to the kitchen. “What do you want to eat, I don’t know if you’re allowed to eat everything you normally do. I think you can?” “Food.” “Wow so helpful.” Archie snorts.

“I love youuuuu.” “I know Sweets.” “No you don’t understand!!!” Archie peers in from the kitchen watching Sweet Pea trying to sit up. “Do you need help?” “No! You don’t love me!” “When did I say that?” Archie watches as Sweet Pea sighs managing to sit up slightly. He hisses and Archie appears next to him. “I’m fine christ.” “You just had major surgery!!” “It was my appendix.”

“Exactly!! It’s major surgery, if you don’t get it removed you can die!!!” “From infection, not the actual-“ “Harry Houdini” “Infection!!! Not cause of the appendix so-“

“Eat.” Archie glares in place of arguing and Sweet Pea beams. “Thank you babe.” “You’re welcome, love.” Archie watches as Sweet Pea gasps at him trying to lurch forward but cringing and laying back on the couch. “Come herreeeee I wanna hug you! And cuddle! I’m dying so you have to do what I say.”

“First off, no I’ll be laying on your stitches; and second you’re not dying you’re like four hours too late to milk that.” Sweet Pea huffs crossing his arms. “What’s wrong, are you really that upset?” “Yes.” Sweet Pea glares at him and Archie sighs. “Okay what can I do to make it up to you then?”

“Cuddle me!” He nods narrowing his eyes and Archie nudges him. “There, here we can cuddle this way, I just don’t want to bump your stitches.” Sweet Pea nods, and Archie can tell he’s relaxed, half asleep. “Nurse Archie;” Sweet Pea pauses to laugh for a moment and Archie nods waiting for him to continue. “Will I ever walk again.” He mocks in a southern accent. “You had your appendix out, nothing to do with your legs. Why?” “I have to piss.” He half sits up and Archie move to help him stand. “I’m just walking you to the bathroom okay.” “Nothing you haven’t seen before.” He wink and Archie pinks slightly. Archie’s hovering by the door when he can hear Sweet pea stumbling and hitting what he hopes is the wall.

“Sweets?” The door swings open Sweet Pea half holding his pants and boxers up. “Look at this shit! They shaved me!!! What the fuck!!!” “Glad to see the pain meds wore off then.” Sweet Pea back up slightly into the bathroom closing the door and letting his head thump against the door. Fred waves the bag and they can hear pills rattling. “I have more pain meds if you want.” “It wasn’t what you think I swear-“ Archie starts and Fred laughs.

“He’s very bothered by being shaved.” “They did it while I was asleep!! There’s no telling what else they did!” He shouts through the bathroom door. “So he doesn’t know about the tattoo then?” Fred jokes and Sweet Pea stumbles out of the door. “The what? Oh; you were joking.” He sighs in relief and Fred nods.

“Back to the couch, you can’t be up so much after having just spent hours lying down.” Sweet Pea nods grumbling under his breathe as he settles back into the couch. “Archieeeee” he whines and Fred nods to him. “Go on; I’m not going to listen to your boyfriend whining all day for you to cuddle him.”

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notcanoncompliant · 5 years

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Open Road

(inspired by the song Dead of Night by Orville Peck…well, really just the vibe of the entire album)

Peter’s 19-20, Tony’s late thirties, early forties

TW: implied abuse (not between Tony/Peter); bruises/violence; panic attack

* * *

It’s not love, but it’s good.

The stranger’s older, rougher around the edges, but sweeter, somehow, than he should be. Grins like he knows how to take a hit, drinks like he used to be familiar with waking up in unfamiliar places, but he kisses Peter like he’s precious. Slow and soft and hot, until Peter’s a clinging mess, rocking up against a solid, denim-clad thigh.

It’s easy, crowded up against the wall outside the back exit of the bar, chasing his release while a gorgeous stranger that’s probably more than twice his age brushes kisses along his jaw and murmurs in his ear about how pretty he looks riding his leg, it’s easy to forget what waits for him at home, if only for a fraction of an hour after his shift.

The next night, near closing time, Peter’s surprised. Tony strolls in again, orders a scotch that he tosses back still standing at the bar, and then takes a table in the corner where he can smoke. When he catches Peter watching him from across the room, he smirks and sits back, knees falling open as he taps his cigar over the glass ashtray on his table and very blatantly gives Peter a once-over.

Peter looks away sharply, face heating as he tries to focus on the booth he’s wiping down, instead of his pleased surprise at the fact that Tony’s still here. People don’t tend to stay for long; it’s a one bar, one gas station kind of town. The only lodging is a rundown Motel 6, and most of the passers-through are beer-gut truckers, and the occasional touristy asshole cruising for an adventure they definitely won’t find.

He’s not really sure what Tony is, but he looks straight off the cover of a Harlequin romance novel, or maybe out of one of those low-budget (but so much sexier for it) pornos. Long legs in worn denim, plugged into dirty, scuffed up motorcycle boots that go with the leather jacket that hangs off the back of his chair.

Peter hasn’t seen the bike–the bar’s walking-distance from the motel and it wouldn’t make sense for Tony to take it the couple minutes back and forth–but Tony’d mentioned it, and when they’d parted last night, Peter’d known Tony would be back on the road by morning, whether he’d said so or not.

But he’s here, puffing on his cigar and unabashedly watching Peter finish up his closing duties.

This time, just after they’ve started making out, same place, same position, Tony pulls back to give Peter a brief, almost chaste kiss.

“How would you feel about moving this to the motel?”

The question is warm with promise, and the vehement ’Yes’ dances to the tip of Peter’s tongue–

–where it dies suddenly.

His second of silent hesitation is loud between them, and he opens his mouth to apologize, but the older man just smiles at him.

“It’s okay, kid.”

Tony moves back in, hands coming up to cradle Peter’s jaw as he coaxes them back to where they’d left off.

For a few nights, it’s the same; Tony shows up before closing, and when Peter’s done with work they end up back at their spot.

It’s not love, but it’s exhilarating.

Peter doesn’t even have room to be worried about the difference in experience, not when Tony’s running a constant stream of compliments and encouragements and dirty things between kisses, when he’s guiding Peter’s hips in a steady, deliciously rough roll until Peter’s coming, gasping Tony’s name.

Tony never takes himself out, never urges Peter’s hands down towards his fly or gives any indication that he’s expecting Peter to reciprocate. He just grins and helps him ride through it, pets Peter’s hair and strokes his jaw with calloused thumbs. Kisses him and tells him how good he is, how beautiful he looks and sounds.

Peter carries the afterglow home with him each time, cradled in his chest in the hope that maybe it’ll make the rest of his night a little more bearable.

They’ve been doing it for almost a full week when Tony tentatively brings up the motel room, again.

“Still no pressure, sweetheart, I promise–but I’ve got a perfectly good bed a couple minutes away, and there’re so many more things I’d like to do for you that’d work a hell of a lot better with a lot less clothing and a lot more privacy.” His small smile is suggestive and affectionate, and his hands are a warm weight on Peter’s hips.

The thing is, Peter’s not afraid of Tony, not concerned about being alone with him at the motel. His body hums in anticipation of what this man could make him feel if he just said yes, but there’s an ugly trickle of anxiety cooling the heat.

If he takes his clothes off, Tony’s going to see the bruises.

“I–I can’t. I’m sorry,” Peter whispers, turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut against the sudden prickle of tears and the almost instinctive urge to brace himself.

What’d you say, Pete? Huh? ‘No’? You wanna run that by me again, you little prick?

“Pete–”

A hand brushes his cheek, and he flinches. Hard.

“Fuck, I’m–I’m sorry,” he gasps out, sliding out from between Tony and the wall, his skin too sensitive, his everything too sensitive.

“It’s okay, kid, sweetheart, hey–”

There’s nothing threatening, nothing but concern in the older man’s tone and expression, but it’s not enough to override the panic.

“I have to go,” Peter bites out, struggling to keep the explosion inside, “Goodbye, Tony.”

It doesn’t occur to him until he’s halfway home that he’d said ‘goodbye’ instead of ‘goodnight’, and he’s so absolutely sure he just ruined the very nicest thing he’s maybe ever had. The thought chokes him, and he goes to his knees on the driveway outside the house, spilling the heartbreak where it won’t get him more hurt.

Tony doesn’t come back the next night.

Peter wants to throw up.

His shift drags by, and he resolutely doesn’t look in the direction of the Motel 6 when he leaves.

Another two nights, and Peter’s sure Tony’s gone. He’s sure, but can’t bring himself to make it real, to go wander over to the parking lot of the motel in search of a black, classic motorcycle he’s never actually seen.

It wasn’t love…but his chest feels so tight, so sore, and his stomach’s in constant knots.

The hurt of everything feels so much more, and he has the horrifying thought that maybe this was how he’d always felt, that somehow a stranger old enough to be his–

–a stranger he’d made out with for a week, had been the thing to shatter the glass. Pull back the curtain on the jagged, violent truth of Peter’s life.

Peter doesn’t know how long it’ll take to be numb again. If he ever could be.

He has to run to the bathroom so he doesn’t throw up on the floor he’s almost finished mopping.

The streets are empty most hours of the day, but at four in the morning, the town’s a veritable graveyard. Peter’s footfalls are loud, slapping the cracked pavement, his breath rattling in his ears as he sprints. His steps jar his frame, highlight every new and fading bruise.

He can’t do it.

He can’t keep going back, he can’t face another fucking night of the hell he calls home after staring at that empty corner table, not if there’s a sliver of a chance–

When he reaches the motel, the laugh that rips out of his throat is hysterical, relieved.

At the very end of the lot, parked in the numbered space directly in front of one of the rooms, is a beast of a motorcycle. He comes to a stop beside it, frozen for a moment, pulse pounding, before he runs to the door. His palm connects solidly with the wood–once, twice, three times–before he has a chance to think about what he’s doing, that it’s ass o'clock in the morning and maybe that bike isn’t even Tony’s, maybe Tony never even had a bike in the first place–

Wood is suddenly open air, and then it’s him. It’s Tony, standing there looking tired and irritated.

Before Peter can be slammed with guilt, the expression vanishes into the same devastated relief that Peter’s sure is mirrored on his own.

“Jesus, kid, are you–”

“I’m not,” Peter sobs, “I’m not alright, I thought you were gone, I thought I ruined everything–”

“No, baby, no–I’m sorry, sweet pea, come here–”

He’s pulled into the room and the door shuts, and then he’s wrapped in those strong arms, crushingly tight against a broad chest that smells faintly of tobacco and strongly of Tony. He fists his hands into the back of the older man’s shirt, hanging on for dear life.

Tony doesn’t complain or try to get him to let go. He just presses kisses to Peter’s temples and cheeks and the top of his head, murmurs “It’s okay, I’m right here, It’s okay…” over and over. He shifts them to the bed, maneuvers until Peter’s lying on his chest, and tangles their legs together, his broad palms rubbing up and down Peter’s back.

Eventually, the slide and squeeze of those achingly familiar hands combined with the solid warmth and steady fall of words lulls Peter back to something close to calm.

There’s a heavy exhalation, Tony’s breath ruffling Peter’s hair.

“I thought I scared you, kid. Thought I pushed you too hard, I didn’t want to make it worse, so I stopped coming in. I’m sorry, Peter.”

“It wasn’t…You didn’t.”

Peter gingerly pulls away, sits up. Takes in Tony’s obvious concern for him, the way the he mirrors the action, doesn’t reach to pull Peter back in but looks ready to do so if asked. The obvious care on his face.

It’s terrifying.

After a few seconds of silence, Tony reaches up to run fingers gently through Peter’s hair, hand sliding back to cup the side of his neck.

“Stay with me, kid. Get some sleep, yeah?” Tony says quietly, gazing at him, still worried. “We can talk in the morning.”

Fifteen minutes later, Peter’s curled up on his side, drifting off with the warm puff of Tony’s breath against the nape of his neck, and calloused, scarred fingers twined with his up near his chest.

He’s never relaxed enough to feel exhausted.

Tonight, sleep is easy.

Morning is gentle. The most gentle, quiet morning Peter’s ever had.

He wakes warm, belly-down on the mattress, to a hand running lightly up and down his back. Tony coaxes him up, gives him a towel and bundle of soft clothes to change into, and directs him to shower. Peter goes with it, feels barest hint of wariness, a lingering prickle in the back of his mind that rinses away along with the suds of the cheap, two-in-one motel body wash and shampoo.

When he comes out, dressed in sweats and a flannel shirt (everything’s rolled up; the sleeves to free his hands, the waistband and ankles of the sweats), Tony’s on the edge of the bed, looking up from the palms he’d been rubbing into his eyes.

The older man’s expression goes a little hungry, gaze sweeping up and down in a way Peter’s become oh so familiar with, a look he never thought he’d see again.

“I like that a little too much, I think,” Tony muses, smirking when he finally makes it back to Peter’s face. “Wanna get my hands under all of it. Would, if we had the time.”

He sighs, pushes to his feet and walks over, cradling the back of Peter’s head with one palm and pressing a kiss to his hair. “I’m gonna shower, and we’ll have that talk.”

Tony’s anger is…big.

But, controlled.

When Peter talks about his father, reluctantly shows Tony the purple-yellow-green stains spread over his skin, the anger pools, but it doesn’t leak into anything. There are no clenched fists or stiff motions. It’s all in the eyes. It’s…thoughtful. Decisive.

“You need clothes,” Tony says, speaking to Peter, but staring at a fading bruise on Peter’s shoulder. He tugs the collar of the flannel back into place. “Let’s go.”

Peter doesn’t go into the house. Tony asks him not to. It’s not even an order disguised as a question, not a test; Peter really has the option.

He tells Tony where his room is, where he keeps the few clothes he does have.

The stop takes about thirty minutes. Peter stays by the bike at the end of the dirt and gravel drive, staring at the clapboard siding, the peeling paint of the tiny deck, the dented and torn screen door.

Tony comes out, sauntering down the path with Peter’s old backpack, stuffed full. When Tony hands it to him, Peter catches sight of red-smeared knuckles.

Peter doesn’t ask. He just drops his backpack on the ground and pulls Tony down for a kiss.

By the time they get back to the room, Peter’s hard and leaking in his borrowed pants. The adrenaline, the vibrations of the bike, Tony’s warmth pressed all along his front; he’d been helpless to it, to all of it. To everything.

There’s no real preamble; the motel door shuts behind them, and he’s up against it, Tony sinking to his knees and taking the sweats down with him as he goes. It doesn’t take much, a few seconds of perfect suction, of the strong, sure grip urging his hips forward, deeper–

Peter cries out when he comes, a reverently agonized gasp of Tony’s name.

After Peter’s dressed in his own clothes and the motel room door is locked behind them, there’re a few minutes of quiet. Tony runs a check of the bike and the bags attached, and Peter only watches for a moment before letting his gaze slide in the direction of the bar.

It’s still earlyish, near ten in the morning. Church will get out soon, and the parishioners will file unerringly to the bar to have a beer with breakfast. Peter’s supposed to start his shift at eleven. He wonders if they’ll try to call when he doesn’t show up, and if his father will be able to pick up the phone.

He doubts it.

Tony calls his name, and when Peter turns, the older man asks if he wants some real power between his legs. When Peter scowls at him, the biker just grins and sidles up and hands him a helmet, tells him it’s like a kitten growling, pulls him close and kisses his forehead.

“Come on, kid, let’s get out of here.”

Sunlight spills through the clouds when the town’s no longer in their rearview.

The open road is beautiful, the growl of the bike’s engine almost as much so.

Peter squeezes Tony’s waist a little harder.

It’s not love, but it could be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@starkercrossedlovers (I think you said before you wanted to be tagged in my works, but I don't know if that was just for the WinterIron stuff 😅 either way, here you go lol)

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #no powers au #biker!Tony #small town au #tw: violence #tw: bruises #tw: implied abuse #nff #angst with a happy ending

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nancypullen · 3 years

Text

Still Here

There’s been absolutely nothing noteworthy happening here on the Pullen spread, hence the lack of notes. My days have been filled with making silly cards, cooking...so much cooking...and betting on trees. Yep, I’ve been checking our tree line daily and waiting for the first one to unfurl its leaves and turn green. We have a winner and spring has officially sprung. I say that with full knowledge that tomorrow night we’re supposed to dip back down to 28. Spring is temperamental, but she’s still here. We’ll be in the 70′s on Easter Sunday. So, parkas and sandals, right? We were lucky to escape the flooding that damaged so many homes and businesses in Wilson County last week, and the tornadoes missed us too, so I won’t complain about a few chilly nights. In more cheerful news, the mister has a few free days so we’re going to zip down to Florida and visit my mom. Yippee! Now that we’re all vaccinated we can visit and have fun without worrying about making anyone sick. It’s long overdue. It will be a quick visit but I think we all need it. The mister has a paid sabbatical during the month of October and we have been working up itineraries for a worthy trip, and trying to plan for all scenarios. Best case is that by October life has mostly returned to pre-covid status and we’re free to travel to Europe, Mickey is more hopeful than I am about that. Plan B is Iceland, right now they’re open with some restrictions and we could accommodate those. It would, however, be a shorter trip because we’d be traveling around in a camper van rental and it would be a whole deal. Iceland is also pricey. That trip sounds like an absolute blast to me, but Mickey says it wouldn’t be as relaxing for him. Pretty sure I’m the one that would be cooking on a camper stove, but whatever. It’s his sabbatical, he earned it, and I want him to be happy. If there’s another surge and international travel is out, he’s talking about going back to Acadia and running around Maine again. We all know that these trips are planned around his photography and if it’s Maine he wants, then Maine he gets. I have no objection to Maine in October, it’s beautiful...and full of lobster. I’m hoping that by mid-summer we’ll know where we’re headed and can make solid plans. Other than watching trees (it’s more fun than watching paint dry) and dragging out our suitcases to head out of town, we’re just marking days. Each day takes us a step closer to normal, so hallelujah! Since a picture us supposedly worth a thousand words, I’ll sum up our recent days with photos. Spring color!

Cooking, always cooking. We eat a TON of vegetables. If I can substitute a veggie to make a dish healthier, I do. This super quick and easy dinner is the mister’s current favorite.

I’m not kidding when I say it’s quick, you can have this on the table in 15 minutes. I use frozen riced cauliflower and start that in one skillet. A little salt and pepper, and a scoop of frozen peas make it tasty. I cook it just long enough to get most of the moisture out and then toss some shrimp into a second skillet. I cook the shrimp for a couple minutes on one side, then flip them and add about a quarter cup of Bulgogi or Korean BBQ sauce.

It’s so yummy and you’ll swear you’re eating rice. I also roast a lot of spaghetti squash. It’s tasty in a variety of ways, but a good ol’ pasta sauce with meat never fails. This sauce was chunky with veggies and I used very lean ground turkey. A little grated Romano cheese on top makes it just right.

My current favorite also uses lean ground turkey. I use taco seasoning when browning the meat, and while it cooks I drain and rinse a can of black beans and simmer them in a little sauce pan with diced onion, cumin, and water. Mmmm. Then I pull out another bag of frozen riced cauliflower and throw it in a skillet. A little chili powder and salt, and some fresh cilantro if you have it (I didn’t this time) and you’re in business. Dice up some tomato, scallions, whatever you’ve got (avocado!) and make yourself a burrito bowl. Not only does this bowl offer big flavor, it’s healthy and so filling.

Have I shared these dishes before? It feels like I have. The days are a blur. If I’m not cooking I can usually be found at my desk making silly cards. This may be the one that best reflects my soul.

I say it to these knuckleheads several times a day.

They keep me entertained. I sent this one out in celebration of spring.

Spring also brings out all of the door-to-door salesmen. I hung this on the door but it doesn’t stop them.

I think the best photo of the week is actually just a screen capture from my phone. Mickey had done a home sleep study to see if perhaps his window rattling snores could be a problem...I mean, other than for me. He strapped everything on and the data was sent to a doctor who then called him in for a consultation. He sent me a text as he left the appointment and I wanted to know the diagnosis.

Imagine my relief that he just needs a cpap machine. The new models are small and nearly silent, so I may have peaceful nights ahead.

And on that note, I do believe I’ll take myself off to soak in the tub and get ready for bed. Sweet dreams to you. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

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jungshookz · 5 years

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falling in crayolove; (kindergartenteacher!taehyung)

✎ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

✎ genre: kindergartenteacher!au, workingman!au, F L U F F, tiny bit of angst at the start :-( but this is literally 98% fluff; y/n and taehyung are like two little kids with little crushes on each other

✎ trigger warning(s): implications of getting an abortion!!

✎ wordcount: 10.5k

✎ summary: y/n is a very single mom and taehyung is a very single kindergarten teacher. emma knows exactly what she needs to do.

✎ note: okay LOOK before you get into reading, this isn’t technically a full fic! this is what happens when you cross a full fic and a baby drabble = this is a BABY FIC which explains why the word count is much smaller compared to the usual! (ps i will probably?? be writing more baby fics for characters such as garbageman!tae or.,,. oTher characters that i can’t think of right now lmao) i was originally going to leave kindergarten!tae as it was and i was just going to continue to write baby drabbles for him but i felt like he deserved a fic?? buT then i was conflicted because his original drabble literally already tells us the full story and i was like ok.,. what else is there to say.,,. sweats,,.. anyways this is what i ended up with! in case you were wondering, yES the original drabble is included in this fic since it’s a crucial part of the story and it would have been a waste to not use it but if you don’t want to read that you’re welcome to just skiP on over to the end lol. also emma is four years old and tae is a pre-kindergarten teacher because i changed my MIND - enjoy!!

pst if u wanna talk to y/n or emma or tae u know what to do ;-)

(gif isn’t mine!)

(((and the read more function iS there but most of the time it doesn’t work on mobile :// i am sorry don’t attack me by sending passive-aggressive anon messages)))

ah, yes.

to be young and i-

“i’m pregnant?!”

the reason why you came to the doctors today was because you thought you had some sort of stomach flu

at first it wasn’t a big deal

but then it started getting worse and you literally thought you had a parasite from eating at that dingy sushi place and you were mad at jin for like a week because it was hIs idea to go there and it’s not fair that hE didn’t get an upset tummy >:-(

jin reminded you that he warNed you about the sea urchin and you responded by smacking the back of his head

you have to admit

it is relieving to know that there isn’t a dangerous parasite living inside of you and feasting on your organs

it’s a,.,. ???

how would one describe a baby as a parasite

a perfectly natural parasite living inside of you!

well

it certainly explains things

the sudden onslaught of violent puking in the morning

you thought it was because your yogurt was starting to get a little funky but apparently it’s because there’s a baby growing inside of you!!!11!!!!

also you should probably start learning how to be more aware of the things that you’re putting inside of your body

also

this should have been a big hint: your period didn’T come this month and your red rain has never EVER been late

“but… i don’t understand.” you let out a breath and lean back against the reclining chair while staring up at the ceiling fan

the lightbulb flickers

“i- we use condoms and- we practice safe sex!!!” you exasperate and sit back up to look at dr. kim “we’re very vERy safe!!!”

“condoms are only effective 98% of the time.”

“yeAH that’s a preTTY BIG percentage” your knuckles grow white as you clench tightly around the arms of the seat in frustration

98%!!!!!!!

that means there was a 2% chance that the condom didn’t work and obviously you are part of that 2%!!!!!

“do you take birth control pills?”

“um, is the sky blue?? yes!!!!” you reply as if it’s the most obvious answer in the entire world

“the sky’s grey today.” dr. kim raises a brow at you before pointing behind you out the window “do you take them consistently?”

“ye-“ you press your lips together “…s…?”

sometimes you.,.., skip a day or two

you’re busy!!!!! you don’t always have the time to remember to pop a tiny pill into ur mouth

you didn’t think it’d be such a big deal

and you certainly didn’t think it’d result in u.., actually getting pregnant

“how many weeks…?” you trail off uneasily and pick at some lint on your sweater

you don’t feel so good now

it’s honestly probably because this baby is about to make you puke again but

oh god

you’re pregnant

you’re barely legal and you’re pregnant

you still see yourself as a kid!!!

you’re a kid who’s going to be raising a kid!!!!!!

kids should NOT be raising kids!!!!!!

“you are about… six weeks pregnant.” dr. kim flips through a chart before looking up at you with a small smile “currently, your baby is about the size of a sweet pea…”

in case it’s not clear

it takes two to tango

in this case

your tango partner is none other than son hyun-woo

otherwise known as

shownu

you’re going over to his apartment for dinner tonight and as much as you doN’t want to tell him you’re pregnant, he’s probably going to become suspicious when your stomach starts growing bigger and rounder as the months go by

you’ve been with shownu since grade eleven

it’s been a great four years!!!

shownu is very sweet and kind and caring and handsome and every other positive adjective that’s ever been recorded in the dictionary

you even chose to go to the same university as him just so you guys could stay together

he’s the captain of the soccer team which is a fact that you like to share with literally everYone because..,,. why wouLDn’t you brag about your soccer captain boyfriend

he’s… he’s the love of your life and that’s one thing you know for sure

you see yourself getting married to him and having kids with him and growing old with him

,..,you’re just not sure if he’d be down to do all of that stuff starting noW

you wipe your sweaty palms down on your leggings as shownu sets the plate of fried rice in front of you “i know you don’t like spicy things, but i threw in a liTTLE tiny baby bit of kimchi in here” he hums and takes a seat across from you “it should be fine though… if not, i made a backup plate of plain fried rice for you!”

you have half a mind to start off the announcement with ‘ah, yes, speaking of baBiES-‘ but perhaps that’s not the best approach to this delicate situation

frick

maybe you should tell him later

but.,,. it’s better to tell him soOner than later

you just don’t know what’s going to happen and you hate it when you’re unable to predict things

how is he going to take it??

he’s usually a very supportive boyfriend but this is a completely nEW kind of supportive

“by the way, thanks for helping me out with my sociology presentation. it went pretty well except for when the prof started asking questions related directly to my slides but luckiLy i was able to bullshit and finesse my way out of-“

“i’m pregnant.” you blurt out

shownu immediately chokes and his fork falls onto his plate with a loud clatter

“you’re-“ he pats his chest a couple times and takes a biG swig of water

he clears his throat

“you’re- i’m sorry, you’re what?”

“i… am… preg…nant.” you mutter sheepishly “pregnant.”

shownu stares at you with wide eyes and for a second you think you’ve broken your boyfriend

and then he snaps out of it

“dude, we’re 19 years old, i don’t wanna be a dad-!“

ok first of all did he just call you dude

and second of all

“and you think i wanna be a mom? we’re both part of this and we need to take full responsibility for our actions. w-we should have been more careful but-“

“i was the careful one! you were the one who was supposed to be on top of your stuPId pills and you couldn’t even remember to take them everyday and now look where we are!”

“look, it’s not the end of the world-“ your fingers tighten around the napkin on your lap

“god, y/n, how dumb are you?! this is going to ruin my life! you knoW how hard i’ve worked to get this soccer scholarship and all of that is about to be completely fucking derailed because of this dumb fucking baBy and- i’m not- no!” shownu snaps and slams a fist against the table

water sloshes out of both your guys’ cups from the vibrations

the dishes rattle slightly and you immediately divert your gaze to your lap

“i don’t want this baby!” he exasperates and throws his head back before placing his hands over his face “god, my parents… what the hell are they going to think??”

he looks over at you and shakes his head “you planned this, didn’t you?”

“wh- what??” your brows knit together and you let out a scoff “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“you planned this so that i’d have no choice but to stay with you because you’re carrying my child”

“shownu- obviously i didn’t fucking plan to get pregnant, it was an acCIdent and-“

“if you keep this baby, i will leave you.” shownu growls “get rid of it.”

at first you were upset

but now you’re just angry

how dare he speak to you like this?

“what did you just say to me?” you scoff and cross your arms

“i don’t want this baby. we cannot keep this baby. we will not be raising this baby. understand?”

jesus

“fine.” you murmur quietly “we won’t keep this baby.”

you swallow the lump in your throat and blink away your tears before letting out a shaky breath

“good.” shownu visibly relaxes and clears his throat before picking up his fork

he shovels a big bite of rice into his mouth “after dinner, we’ll make an appointment to go to the abortion clinic tomorrow afternoon. i think it’ll be fine if i skip the first half of training but hopefully we’ll be back before-“

the chair screeches against the floor as you get up and shownu immediately gets up as well “hey, where are you going?”

“you’re right, shownu. we won’t be keeping this baby - i’ll be keeping this baby. and i will raise my baby on my own.” you snap and reach down to grab your bag before storming to the front door

shownu doesn’t stop you

and you don’t look back.

the rest of the night goes by in a blur

it’s pretty fitting that it’s raining like crazy outside

you drop your backpack and keys on the floor once you get back to your apartment

you peel your sopping wet jacket off and toss it on the couch before kicking your shoes off

honestly

it feels like time’s stood still

it’s just white noise in your brain and you can’t seem to focus on anything

you flick the bedside lamp on and a cast of warm yellow washes over your room

you sit cross-legged on the floor at the side of your bed and let out a breath

the atmosphere is completely silent except for the sound of rain gently drumming against the window

a flash of lightning briefly lights up the sky

in the distance, you hear the slight rumble of thunder

you dial your mom’s number with shaky fingers and click the speaker button before setting it down on the mattress

brrrrrinnng

brrrrri-

your mom picks up on the third ring which was wAY sooner than you thought she’d pick up

“hey, look who finally called!”

you open your mouth to speak when suddenly you feel an overwhelming wave of anxiety and fear rush over you

you should have planned something before calling her

what’s the right way for a teenage daughter to tell her mother that she’s pregnant?

is she going to be disappointed with you?

is she going to be angry with you? tell you that you’re irresponsible and that she saw this coming from miles away?

is she going to tell you that this is something you’ll have to deal with yourself?

your parents worked so hard to get you here and they work hard to this day to continue paying for your tuition fees

and you’re about to tell them that hey, i’m pregnant

you haven’t even said anything and you’re already losing your composure

your nails dig into the flesh of your palm as you ball your hands into fists

“-i was wondering when i’d hear from you. your dad isn’t back from work yet but i’ll make sure to tell him that you called. i’m just making dinner now, i’m trying out this new pasta dish that-“

“mom?” your voice cracks and you clamp your lips together and shake your head

your bottom lip trembles and your vision starts to blur with tears almost instantly

oh god

you can’t do this

you feel your face burning up as you try your hardest to hold it back

a beat of silence goes by and you hear some shuffling on the other end of the phone

the first tear rolls down your cheek

“…honey, what’s wrong?”

and that’s all it takes

the rest of the tears follow in an unbroken stream

you immediately let out a pained sob before leaning forward and pressing your hands against the cold floor beneath you

you begin to cry with such force that your chest starts to hurt and your heart starts to clench and you feel like you could pass out at any moment

your mom can barely make out what you’re saying through your blubbering but she manages to pick out ‘pregnant’ and that’s all she needs to know

she waits for you to sob your heart out before deciding to speak up

she asks if you have the resources to raise a child

no, you don’t

she asks if you even want to have this child

yes, you do

she asks you if shownu wants to have this child

no, he doesn’t, but that doesn’t matter to you

she tells you how much she loves you and absolutely nothing is going to change that fact

after all, you’re her baby no matter what

you find comfort in knowing that you have some form of a support system and you’re not completely on your own

you turn and twist in the mirror as you keep your eyes glued on your bare stomach

you were about to take a quick shower but once you stripped off all your clothes you were suddenly moRe aware of your tummy

you don’t look pregnant

you don’t even feel pregnant

it’s just,.,. odd

knowing that there’s a living human growing inside of you

“it’s just you and me against the world, sweet pea.” you smooth a hand over your bare stomach and give it a gentle pat

just you and sweet pea

nine months seem to go by in a blur

shownu never reaches out to you and you never reach out to him

as far as you’re concerned you don’t want anything to do with him

as far as you’re concerned this is your baby and your baby alone

your ankles become swollen and your breasts become sore and weighty

your skin gets blotchy at some point and there’s not enough concealer in the world to hide the angry pimples dotted all over your face

ur mom says u were supposed to be glowing during pregnancy..,,. the only kind of glowing ur doing is from the gREASE

you find yourself casually throwing anchovies into your vanilla ice cream and topping it off with balsamic vinegar

you had to start taking online classes because it was becoming too hard having to transport to campus every day

every time you see a dog on the street you burst into tears because hOUHG my GOD it’S so cuTE *snorts*

you’re in the middle of a midterm when you feel sweet pea kick for the first time and it takes everything within you to not start crying in the middle of the examination hall

jin comes over to your apartment for study sessions but most of the time it ends up with him taping his earbuds to the swell of your tummy and letting sweet pea listen to some classical music

he goes through this phase where he’s obsessed with healing crystals and your apartment becomes scattered with rose quartzes and jaspers because he’s doing it for the baby

occasionally he makes you lie down so he can place small crystals in a circle around your belly button so that the healing energy will be absorbed into your body and into the baby

you’re thankful that you have a friend like him even though he’s literally a lunatic

your mom comes into town once a month and stays for about a week just to take care of you and make sure that both you and the baby are happy and healthy

as time goes on, your little sweet pea grows into a fuLL on watermelon

and eventually-

“jesus chRIST-“ your chest heaves with exhaustion as you lie back against the hospital bed

oh my god

that was the woRST eight hours of your life

your lower body is completely numb and you don’t even want to think about how buSted your vagina looks right now

you put her through a loT today!!!!

“here she is, mama!” the nurse gently places your screAMing bundle of joy in your arms and suddenly all the blood sweat and tears is completely worth it

“hi, sweet pea…” you laugh lightly as her tiny, mucousy hand wraps around your finger

she’s so beautiful

“i’m your mommy…” your eyes are glistening with tears of joy (aND pain) and you lean in to press a tiny kiss to the top of her head “just u nd me against the world”

well

that was four years ago

it’s pretty strange how quickly time can go by

four years ago you were nineteen years old

four years ago you were in a committed, loving relationship with someone you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with

four years ago you were in your second year of university; first year was a hellish nightmare and you were just starting to figure things out

four years ago you found out you were pregnant and your world was turned upside down

and now you’re twenty-three years old

a lot has changed in the past four years

you are no longer in a committed, loving relationship with someone you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with; in fact, you haven’t been in another relationship since shownu,., you haven’t even been on any dates

you are in your fifth year of university because you couldn’t graduate last year due to the fact that you were missing some credits; luckily you have moSt of university life figured out at this point even though you occasionally stiLL get lost on campus sometimes

you found a pretty stable job at a drug store a couple blocks away from the apartment

it’s not much but it pays the bills (your parents will occasionally chip in and help out if u need it) ((you’re very grateful to have the parents that you have))

jin is still a big fat doofus (he’s not aS obsessed with crystals but u keep them in the apartment because they’re pretty)

emma’s in pre-k now!!!! it seems like it was only yesterday that she started walking and talking

and now she won’t stop walking,.,. or talking

no tea no shade

emma is the absolute light of your life!!

and you would straight up SLAUGHTER anyone who would try to hurt her

:~)

she’s your little ball of sunshine who smothers you with kisses every morning to wake you up and writes ‘i lov3 mommy’ on literally any surface she can find (you’re flattered but u need to have a word with her about using lipstick to write on the walls) and always wants to help you make breakfast and dinner or fold the laundry or sweep the floors

emma is a peculiar little girl and you are so, so proud to be able to call yourself her mother

she’s compassionate and kindhearted and thoughtful and polite

she never forgets to say please and thank you

she likes to wait for you to get to the dinner table as well before digging into her spaghetti (she can’t pronounce spaghetti yet so she jumbles it together and it becomes spapeggi)

she likes watching nature documentaries (docummeneries) with you and would genuinely choose to watch that over the powerpuff girls or even spongebob and you were like ???? because yOU low-key want to watch spongebob and u don’t want to have to confess to your four year old daughter that you want to watch cartoons instead of a documentary

on mother’s day she woke you up with kisses and breakfast in bed!! she made you a peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich and you have to admit that it was *mwah* very scrumptious

emma is very curious as to who her dad is or if she even hAs a dad

she thought jin was her dad and jin was only slightly offended at how hard you laughed at that when she brought it up

because all the kids at school seem to have dads and she only has a mom

which isn’t a problem at all it’s just,.,. she wants to know

like her friend hwayoung has a dad!!!

and his name is hwayoung’s dad

that’s all she knows about him

one time all the kids in class were talking about their dads and emma didn’t have anything to say but lucKily she was able to steer the attention away from herself

(“my dad’s a dentist” “mine is a doctor!” “mine is a cee-hee-ho! emma, what does your dad-“ “cee-hee-ho of what?” “…i dunno” “yeah, cee-hee-ho of what?!”)

talking to emma about shownu is a tricky situation

“your dad is a very, very busy... soccer player...?”

you don’t actually know what shownu’s been up to besides the fact that he’s on the national soccer team which is gReat for him but every time you think about that stupid boy you can’t help but revisit the night when he basically told you that you would ruin his entire life if you kept the child-

“how come he never visits?” emma furrows her brows as she tries to twirl spaghetti around her fork

the noodles are too slippery and emma yelps in surprise when some sauce splatters onto her face

“he… the important thing here is that you have mommy, okay?” you smile and reach over to wipe the tomato chunk off her chubby cheek “don’t worry about your dad.”

emma doesn’t know a lot

but she knows enough to not bring it up again

anyways

even though you’re a mother now

that doesn’t necessarily mean that you automatically have your shit together becAUSe-

“shit shit shit shIt shit” you curse to yourself as you vEEr right into the first parking spot you see

you immediately crank the brake and unbuckle your seatbelt

“i was going to park there, asshole!” you hop out of the car to see an angry looking mother glaring at you from her minivan and you give her a sheepish smile

“i’m sorry!!!! my kid just got off from class and i can’t be late because i need to drive her to ballet and-“ you’re definitely oversharing with this stranger and she obviously doesn’t care because she rolls her eyes and flips you off before zoOming off to find another parking spot

soccer moms are so aggressive

you double check that you have everything with you and you fish your parent lanyard out of your backpack and sling it around your neck quickly as you approach the front doors

you thought that once you became a mother you would instantly become more responsible more organised more matuRe

obviously you were mistAken because you’re still late to almost everything you go to

some things never change!!!!

you hurry your way down the hallway and pick up the pace when you see the swarm of parents standing outside the classroom

as you approach the crowd you get up on your tip-toes to see if emma’s been excused yet

you accidentally bump into a couple and a bit of your coffee splashes onto their shoulders and they turn around and give you a dirty look

“oh, sorry!!!! ….fridays, am i right?” you joke and they both scowl before shuffling to stand somewhere else

oof

tough crowd

none of the parents here like u that much

which is a real shame because you think you make greAt company

you’re just,.,, there’s a big age gap between u and most of the parents here

you’re one of the younger parents in the class

actually you might be the youngest

min yoongi and his wife (you forgot her name whoOps) are pretty young but they’re still a couple years older than you

and side note their daughter is adoraBle

emma is actually friends with hwayoung so you talk to yoongi sometimes

it’s nice to talk to someone who’s around your age

he’s just veRy businessman-y so it’s difficult to joke around with him

but he’s still a nice guy!!

speaking of yoongi and hwayoung

a bright smile makes its way onto your face when you see yoongi nudging hwayoung through the crowd of people before grabbing onto her small hand

“yoongi!” yoongi looks up and he smiles politely

he’s still dressed all spic and span in his suit from work

“ah! good afternoon, y/n. hwayoung, say good afternoon to emma’s mom.” he hums before bending down to zip up her backpack that’s just wiDe open

relatable

“good afternoon, emma’s mom!!” she looks up at you with bright eyes

she’s sO CuTE

“hi, hwayoung-ie!” you bend down and pinch her cheek before reaching into the pocket of your coat and fishing out a little caramel “don’t tell your dad,” you joke and yoongi snorts in response

“thank u!!!!!” she snaTches it immediately and you coo before pinching her cheek again

you get back up onto your feet “you guys on your way home now?”

“mhm. is emma still available for a playdate this sunday?” yoongi swoops hwayoung off her feet and props her up onto his hip and she immediately rests her head against his shoulder

“affirmative, sir.” you salute and yoongi rolls his eyes playfully “i-“

“emma y/l/n?” you perk up when you hear emma’s name being called

“yeah, we’ll see you sunday! have a nice night!” you turn to squeeze your way into the crowd and once you make your way to the front your heart immediately starts going boom-boom because

it’s taehyung

emma’s teacher

kim taehyung is uh

whOo

putting it simply he is a very attractive man and he’s only a couple months older than you so like you’re preTTY sure this is god’s way of telling you it’s meant to be

the only time you’ve really talk to him is during the parent-teacher conference and even theN you can barely get a word in because emma’s a little chatterbox (one time she almost let it slip that ‘mommy dressed extra pretty for you!’ and you were literally about to pounce on your child in the middle of a classroom)

he’s really sweet n nice and when he smiles that boxY grin you can’t help but smile aNd he’s endearingly dorky and super charming aND funny and he’s so good with the kids and OH my god his voice is like..,., silky smooth dark chocolate.,,.,. rich caramel.,, that u want to driZZLE all over your BODY

okay no R-rated thoughts when there are children present

don’t be weird

since he’s your kid’s teacher you’re not sure if that’s even allowed

the whole parents dating teachers thing

anyways

he looks so soft today

he’s wearing a crisp button up with a pair of jeans

he obviously let the kids mess with his hair because he has a little sproUT in his hair

and you’re pretty sure you have a glasses kink because you’ve never felt this way when seeing someone with their glasses sitting on the top of their head

“hi, yeah, that’s me- i mean, that’s not me, but that’s my child- you know what i mean” you blow a strand of hair away from your face before adjusting your backpack with a sheepish grin

woW what the hell was that lol

taehyung presses his lips together to keep himself from bursting into chuckles

you’re so awkward sometimes but he supposes that’s just part of your charm

he wants to tell you you look real cute in your periwinkle sweater

and it’s endearing how the laces on your converse shoes are undone

no doubt from your frantic running down the hallway (he notices everything)

but of course he has to keep it professional because you are the parent of one of his students it doesn’t matTer that you’re the same age as him and that he’s very very very veRY attracted to you

“hi miss y/l/n.” taehyung smiles kindly before ticking next to your name on the clipboard “emma’ll be ready in a minute! we did finger-painting today so the kids are taking a little longer to wash up. how was your day?” he suddenly remembers the little ponYTAIL in his hair and he yanks the hair tie off quickly

“oh, y’know, the usual. it’s not super exciting having to keep studying after four whole years of studying.” you snort before pulling your own hair tie from your ponytail and letting your hair down

“i admire that! education is important.” taehyung hums

your hair looks so soft

it probably smells good too

o god he’s being creepy stop being creepy

“i suppose you’re right. what else happened…uh… had a really good caramel macchiato and a mediocre turkey sandwich for lunch-“

“mommy!” you snap out of your little trance when emma suddenly ziPs out of the classroom

her little backpack bounces against her back

“hi baby!” you grin and swoOp down to scoop her up into your arms

you smoosh kisses against her chubby cheek while she giggles away before you plop her back down onto the ground

it takes everything within taehyung not to mELT into the ground because even tho he sees you do that basically every day it never fails to turn him into a pile of mush IT’S SO CUTE

“we finger-painted today!” she cheers and holds her paper up for you to look at

“yeah, mr kim was just telling me-“

“that’s me, n that’s you, n that’s mr. kim!” she grins and points to the third figure in the painting and almost immediately bOTH yours and tae’s faces go bright red

you think you might actually be on fire right now (even tho this isn’t the first time this has hAPPENeD) ((ur referring to the time the class made play-doh people and emma made one of you and one of tae and the play-doh versions of you two are holding hands))

“oh! that’s, heh, uh, that’s nice! that’s so good, you did a good job, baby” you clear your throat and your eyes flicker over to taehyung

he tilts his head and offers you a meek smile

“will you put it up on the fridge when we go home?” she asks as you tuck it into her backpack for her before ziPping her bag up

“mhm…” you get back up onto your feet and dust your knees off “say g’bye to mr. kim”

“bye mr. kim!” emma turns around and hugs his legs

her face is like on the same level as his knees so he’s basically kneeing her and are u an awful mother if you kinda laughed at that

“goodbye, sweetheart!” he replies with the same level of enthusiasm as he gets down onto his knees so that he can give her a proper hug and she gives him a sweet lil kiss on the cheek “have a nice weekend, hm?” his eyes flicker up to you and you feel your heart skip a beat

emma pulls away from him and skips over to you “oh, and don’t forget to tie your laces, emma.” taehyung hums as he gets back up onto his feet

you look down because you remember putting emma in slip-on converse this morning not-

“he means you, mama.” emma not-so-subtly whispers and you look down at your undone laces before looking back up at taehyung who’s looking very amused at the moment

there it is again

that fuzzy feeling in your stuPid heart

u know what

you have to get over it because it’s never going to happen

you’re an adult

you can get over it fine you’ll be finE

this is just a silly little crush

“how do you feel about spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner?” you clutch emma’s little hand in yours as you guys make your way down the empty hallway

look

spaghetti is the only thing you’re actually reaLLy good at making okAY

obviously you feed your child other things,,,.., she likes kimchi fried rice with chunks of spam,,.,. a refreshing greek salad,,.. peanut butter (beanut putter) and jelly sandwiches,.,., sometimes a little fruit salad,,.,.

“yummy! with extra cheese?”

“it wouldn’t be as yummy without the extra cheese… but we obviously have to go to our usual place to get a hot chocolate first…” you’re rambling on and on about hot chocolate but emma isn’t really paying attention

because she has concocted a sneaky plan in that tiny brain of hers

she knows you like mr. kim

and she’s positive mr. kim likes you back

you always get so red around him

and he always gets so red around you

and red is the colour of love

which means that you must love mr. kim and mr. kim must love you

and she’s been trying her hardest to try and get you guys to hold hands or touch butts or whatever it is grown-ups do to prove they love each other

but each time she does something she’s never successful!!!

she tried to tell mr. kim about you dressing extra pretty for him but you smacked a hand over her mouth before she could get it out

she made a play-doh mommy and a play-doh mr. kim and presented them proudly to you and mr. kim and the both of you just laUGHED in hER FACE

do you people think she’s just a SIMPLE F O O L

and she has to admit the painting of you and her and mr. kim is probably one of her weaker moves but it’s better than nothing

and u know what

she just wants you to be happy

because she loves you a lot

and you’re a good mommy

and good mommies deserve to be happy

and from what she knows

mommies need daddies (sometimes mommies can be with other mommies!!!)

but yOU, specifically

you need a daddy

and mr. kim is the perfect fit!!! she likes mr. kim a lot

he’s always really nice to her and he lets her braid his hair and he gives her candies and kisses her cheeks

this next part is all part of her evil plan and she’s positive that this time something will happen

all of her peers (including herself) have their own cubbies in the classroom

emma purposely left her snack box in there so that you’d have a reason to go back

AND she left a little note in there for you and (hopefully) mr. kim to read

emma is your child after all

meaning she’s a very verY clever girl

she just has to wait for the right time.,.,.

and the right time is noW

“mommy, my snack box is still in the classroom!!” emma stops in her tracks and you nod before pointing to the direction of the classroom

“go ahead, go get it”

“but i need to pee.” she squeezes her legs together and makes a face of discomfort “you need to get the snack box, mommy”

“i-“ you look back at the closed door of the classroom “mommy can wait for you to finish peeing and then you can go-“

“no, no, you need to go get it i need to pEE” the next thing you know she’s spRInting towards the washroom and you’re left standing in the middle of the hallway with question marks floating around your head

what in the hickory ham is going on

“gO GET MY SNACK BOX MOMMY” you hear her voice echo from the washroom

“alRIght alright” you snort before turning and heading back to the classroom

you don’t know why you’re suddenly so nervous

you’re retrieving your daughter’s snack box from her super attractive teacher that you definitely have a crush on there’s nothing to be nervous about

hi tae! emma left the ol’ snack box up in here!

whaddup mr. kim! mind if i just pOP right in??

yo Yo yOOoo have u seen a purple box anywhere?? because it belongs to emma and i need it

o god

all of these options are terrible

you need more time to rehearse your lines-

you’re about to reach up to knock on the door when suddenly it swiNgs right open and you stumble back in surprise

“oh shit!” taehyung reaches out and grabs onto your waist before you can fall flat on your aSS and you let out a squeak

in the midst of your almost-fall you’d grabbed onto his bicep and now.,.., he has an arm…, wrapped around your waist.,., while you have one hand on his bicep and one hand curled around the nape of his neck.,,,..,.,

the two of you snap out of your respective trances when you hear a door open down the hallway and you immediately leT GO of each other

also tae was right ur hair does smell really nice

“hi. sorry about that! i was on my way to the washroom and i didn’t know you were outside…” he clears his throat and prays to god he’s not as red as a tomato right now

“no, no! it was my bad, i’m sorry.” you reach up and scratch the back of your neck “i, uh, emma said she left her snack box in here.” you breathe out

“oh, uh, come in! i’ll help you search for it. it’s probably in her cubby. she’s always leaving things in there.” taehyung falls back into his ‘mr. kim’ persona as he leads you towards the cubbies in the back “let’s see… emma… here~” he bends down and you follow suit

oh my go d he even smells good is this aLLOWed

you perk up when you spot emma’s box

“hey, you’re right! here it is-“ you reach in and grab the box but you’re surprise when you notice the piece of paper stuck to the back of it

it’s an A4 piece of paper with a little card stuck to it and a note written in crayon on it

you recognise the card

it’s the business card of that little cafe you take emma to every friday after school

the one that you’re supposed to take her to right noW

‘mommy’s faveriate drink is karomal makkiatoe and mr. kim’s faverieote drink is hot chalklate’

“huh.” both you and tae are kinda just staring at the note

the gears are click-click-clicking away in both your guys’ heads

and then it hits the both of you at the same time

oh.

taehyung isn’t typically a ballsy guy but like

he’s feeling vEry brave all of a sudden

“can i take you out sometime?” he blurts out and your eyes widen in surprise

well

you certainly weren’t expecting that

the both of you get back up onto your feet and you tuck emma’s box into your backpack

your cheeks flare up and you let out a little chuckle before scratching the back of your neck “i… uh…”

“i mean, don’t feel pressured to say yes just because i’m emma’s teacher!” taehyung stammers “i just, y’know, i don’t want to overstep here but i think you’re a very beautiful woman and-“

“i would love to.” you clear your throat and take your bottom lip in between your teeth “yeah, i would love to. actually, uh- emma and i, we usually go to this cafe every friday - if you’re free right now, maybe you can come and join us?” you rub your slighTLy damp hands on the back of your jeans and taehyung immediately lightS up and nods quickly

“i would love that. yeah, just… just gimme a second to clean up real quick! i’ll meet you and emma outside?”

“great! yeah, totally. she’s just.. she’s peeing right now so i should probably go check and see that she hasn’t flushed herself down the toilet or anything” you joke as you make your way towards the door and tae splits off to head to his desk “i’ll see you outside!”

you shut the door behind you and you have to quickly press yourself against the wall and you nearly bite your bottom lip off to keep yourself from screaming

your heart is going a million miles an hour and there are butterflies just having a raVE in your stomach

as soon as you leave the room taehyung pumps a fiST into the air in victory because Y E S HE DID IT

“did you find my box?” emma’s sitting outside the washroom as you approach her and you raise a brow before nodding

“mhm.” she gets up and grabs onto your hand before looking back at the classroom door

huh

did her plan not work

she knows she’s not supposed to say bad words but what the h*ck

she really thought her plan would work!!!!

“mr. kim’s joining us for hot chocolate today, by the way. hope you don’t mind.” you add casually and a cheshire-cat grin takes over emma’s face

the whole time you and emma and tae are at the cafe emma can’t help but feel proud of herself

you and mr. kim are sitting very vEry close to each other in your booth chatting away while she sits opposite of you two quietly nibbling at a scone and taking small sips of her hot chocolate

S U C C E S S has never tasted so good

luckily enough emma’s ballet class was cancelled today and you secretly thank the gods above because you’re having a really nice time with taehyung and it would have been a big ol bummer to have to leave early

he’s so sweet and considerate and he’s a really good listener

and he’s sO funny and super dorky in the best way possible

“oh my gosh, don’t even get me started on nap time. i love watching the kids sleep!” he pauses and his eyes widen “i promise i wasn’t trying to make that as creepy as it came out… they’re just so cute when they sleep!!! …okay, yeah, that still sounded creepy.”

you’re having so much fun with tae you’ve barely paid any attention to emma which is totally fine to her because she wanTs you and mr. kim to talk more

it’s just

emma gets pretty sleepy after a good snack or meal

sometimes she falls asleep halfway through eating (she used to do that a lot when she was a baby) ((one time she fell face flat into a bowl of mushy peas))

and the blueberry scone paired with the hot chocolate.,., that was a good snack,,..,

“oh my gosh, look at the time-“ your eyes widen when you realise it’s literally almost seven o’clock

you turn to look at emma and immediately stifle a laugh when you realize what’s happened

she fell asleep

her mouth is agape and there are a couple crumbs dusting her bottom lip

she only finished half her scone and she’s griPPing the other half in her tiny hand

you scrunch your nose and turn back to face tae “em and i should probably head home…”

it sucks because it’s still pretty early and u really really wanna keep hanging out with tae but,,.,.

“yeah, don’t worry about it!” tae nods understandingly and dusts his hands off before sliding out of the booth “i’ll help carry her to the car.”

“thank you for treating us to the hot chocolates and scones, by the way.” you hold the door open for tae as he steps outside with emma in his arms

she has her arms wrapped around his neck and her chin propped up on his shoulder

she still has a death grip on that scone

“of course! don’t worry about it.” taehyung hums and follows you to your car parked all the way at the end of the parking lot “by the way - did emma get you to sign the parental form for the trip to the aquarium?”

“she woke me up this morning by shaking it in my face.” you laugh lightly and open the door for tae “i’ll sign it tonight so she can hand it in tomorrow. oh, the car seat’s a little tricky so you can just plop emma in it and i’ll take care of the-“

click

clack

zip

snap

taehyung buckles emma in eaSILy and you’re genuinely taken aback by how quickly he did that

usually it takes you like five minutes to attach the one on her chest

and uh,,.., you’re pretty sure watching him being able to smoothly operate a child’s car seat isn’t supposed to be hot,.,. but dat shit was kinda hot

“sorry about that. what were you saying?” taehyung pulls away and closes the car door shut gently

“uh,.., i was just talking about that aquarium field trip form.” you clear your throat and resist the urge to fan your face

“ah, right! i’ve been meaning to ask - would you maybe be interested in being a chaperone for that field trip? we already have a couple parents who have signed up, but,.., i don’t know, i thought maybe it’d be fun to,.,”

okay taehyung has no idea how to word this

he just wants u to be a chaperone as a sneaky excuse to spend more time with you lol

“emma actually tricked me into signing up to become a chaperone, so unfortunately, you will be stuck with me for like six hours straight.” you smile and punch tae’s arm lightly

“sounds like a rough time but i’m sure i’ll be able to soldier through it.” he teases and raises a perfectly arched brow

a moment of silence goes by and all that can be heard is the slight buzzing from the cafe’s neon OPEN sign along with the faint chirping of crickets

“so, miss y/l/n.” tae clears his throat “can i put you down in charge of sandwiches and juice boxes?”

“sounds good, mr. kim.” you playfully resort back to your proFesSional names and you both stand up a little straighter before bursting into giggles

you don’t know what it is

maybe it’s because tae’s the first guy in a while you actually genuinely romantically like

maybe it’s because it makes you happy knowing that emma adores him and he adores emma

maybe it’s because within a couple of hours he’s successfully wormed his way into your heart because he’s so warm and kind and caring

but you have an overwhelming urge to just-

ᵖᵉᵏ

you surprise yourself when you lean in to plant a tiny kiss on taehyung’s cheek

his eyes widen and his cheeks flush in surprise

he reaches up to adjust his square-framed glasses before letting out a small chuckle “i look forward to seeing you tomorrow morning, miss y/l/n.”

taehyung drives home that night with a megawatt smile on his face

anyone who passed by probably thought he was a maniac but he doesn’t care!!!!!!!

you kissed him on the cheek!!!!!!

he’s a maniac in love!!!!!!!!

you’re not any better

once you park the car in the driveway you let out a breath and then a little squeal and punch the horn compLetely forgetting that emma was still snoozing away in the back

emma peels one eye open to look at you and you lock gazes in the mirror

she immediately squeezes her eyes shut

you turn around and gawk at her “how long have you been awake for?”

“long enough 2 know dat u kissed mr kim on the cheek” she replies with her eyes still shut

goD

she really is a sneaky little bugger

“come on, mama - let’s go see your boyfriend!!!!” emma drags you down the hallway and you nearly stumble over your feet

“he’s not- mr kim is noT mommy’s boyfriend-“

“okay.,,.” emma pauses for a split second before her face lights up again “let’s go see your daddy!!!”

you choke

“that’s nOT ANY BETTER-“

surprisingly enough you made it a liTTle bit before eight o’clock when usually you always buSt in through the doors at like 8:05

the other parents are dropping their kids off for the day and it’s safe to say that this is the first time you’ve seen yoongi in the morning

he has a little bit of bedhead but

his tie is nice and neat as per usual

“good morning, yoongi! morning, hwayoung!!” you chirp and offer him a smile before reaching down to pat hwayoung’s head

“morning, y/n. morning, emma.” he smiles back at you before turning his head and letting out a small yawn

“good morning, hwayoung n hwayoung’s dad!!!” emma grins and bounces up and down on her feet

“morning, emma n emma’s mama.” hwayoung hums sleepily and reaches up to rub at her eyes whilst leaning against yoongi

huh

like father like daughter

“min hwayoung?”

you turn your head when you hear tae’s rich baritone voice

somehow it’s even 𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇 in the morning

“alright, in you go. i’ll see you after school, chunky monkey.” yoongi bends down and gives hwayoung a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before she’s scurrying off to the classroom. “goodbye, y/n. i’ll see you after school as well.” he pats your arm and you laugh lightly before saying goodbye and moving aside to let him through

“emma y/l/n?”

you’re about to sWEep emma up and smoosh kisses all over her face then say goodbye but she grabs your hand and vEry aggressively drags you through the crowd of parents and her peers “emma, what are you-“

“good morning, mr. kim!” emma greets brightly and taehyung looks surprised to see you here because usually he just sees the kid in the morning and not the kid’s parent

“ah, good morning, emma! morning, miss y/l/n.” he smiles shyly before ticking next to emma’s name

“good morning, mr. kim…” you trail off and reach up to scratch the back of your neck

it’s probably because u don’t have any coffee in your system yet but you can’t think of anything else to say

and for a second taehyung forgets that he’s literally in the middle of his job and he has like ten other kids to take care of

“mama, don’t you have something for mr. kim?” emma tugs on your hand and you look down at her before furrowing your brows and shaking your head

“no, i do-“

“yes, you do!” she moves behind you and unZips the front pocket of your backpack and you let out a sQuawk when she yanks you down slightly “here!” emma pulls a shiny red apple out of your bag and hands it to you

you take it from her and raise a brow “i didn’t-“

“you packed this this morning, remember? to give to mr. kim?” she blinks and squeezes her eyes shut before opening them as wide as possible

.,,.is she trying to wink at you?

you’re going to have to teach her how to wink proper- oHHHHHh

“right! i… did! i did pack- here you go, tae- mr. kim.” you smile sheepishly and hand him the red apple

goD

now you feel like a tiny little teacher’s pet because none of the other parents ever bring tae apples and apparently you bring him apples now!!!

“thank you!” taehyung laughs lightly “that’s very sweet of you, miss y/l/n.”

you feel like your entire face is redder than the damn apple “uh, anyWays! em, i will see you later.” you pat the top of her head before nudging her into the room

“bye, mama!”

you glance back at tae “and i will also.,., see u later.,.”

woWie

what an interesting start to the day

“i don’t know how she managed to sneak an apple into my backpack without me noticing.” you slam the car door shut and jin laughs a little and shuts his door

you fling your backpack over your shoulder and jin hands you the takeaway cup of hot chocolate

sometimes you pick jin up from his place after you drop emma off at school just because it’s on the way and jin says he would rather dunk himself in boiling water than go on public transport at 8:30 in the morning

he makes it up to you by paying for the starbucks drivethru drinks

“she’s probably picking it up from me. i am super smooth, after all”

you snort immediately “oh, right, like that one time you- shit!”

“okay firSt of all i would NEVER defecate in public-“

“no, i’m not talking about you, you weirdo!” you scowl before unlocking your car and opening up the passenger seat door “emma left her lunch bag in here…”

jin checks the time on his watch “if you go back and drop it off you’ll only be… twenty-ish minutes late to class? don’t worry, i’ll catch you up on anything that’s important.”

“thAnk you so much you beautiful man-“

seokin gasps and purses his lips “so you ADMIT it you think i’m-“

“oh my god not noW-“ you hop into the driver’s seat and fling your backpack to the front seat before shoving the key into the ignition

you bought one of those fancy sandwich cutters and emma’s peanut butter and jelly sandwich is shaped like a butterfly today and you’ll be daMNed if she doesn’t get a chance to show it off to her classmates

you parked the car hastily so it’s kind of crooked but it’s fiNE

your sneakers squeak against the linoleum as you make your way down the familiar hallway

and you heaR the chorus of kids singing coming from tae’s classroom

you even hear tae singing along

“five little ducks went out one day, over the hill and far away, mother duck said quack quack quack quack, but only four little ducks came back-“

you peek into the room a little and giggle lightly when you see tae wiggling his arms and shaking his butt like a little duckling

how precious!!!!!!!

:’-)

u hate to interrupt the fun morning song but you really gotta get the heCk out of here and go back to class

you already hate that you might be missing 20 minutes of class so you’re trying to minimiZe those minutes as much as possible

you give the bright red door a couple knocks and shoot everyone a sheepish smile when the entire class and tae turn to look at who’s at the door

taehyung tells the kids to busy themselves with the duck song before he excuses himself

“hey!” he steps out of the room and shuts the door behind him “what’s up?”

“hey… emma left her lunch bag in the car so i figured i’d drive back and drop it off so it doesn’t look like i’m a negligent mother.” you joke before holding it out for him to take

“the girl loves her beanut putter sandwiches, doesn’t she?” taehyung takes the bag from you and shakes it gently

he only knows that because she has it for lunch like every day and she’s always showing it off to her friends because ‘my mommy cuts mY sandwiches into hearts because she loves me!!!!!!!!!’

“i keep telling her it’s peanut butter and not beanut putter… i think she knows the difference but she’s just doing it because she’s a little joker.” you snort and look down at the takeaway cup in your hand

you feel bad for interrupting the class so- “oh, before i forget! i brought a hot chocolate for you. it’s from starbucks so you know it haS to be good-“

“first an apple, then a starbucks hot chocolate?” taehyung beams and takes it from you “if i didn’t know any better, it’d seem like you were buttering me up or something…”

“ah, was it really that obvious?” you tease back

a beat of silence goes by

the both of you are now fully aware that there is a mutual attraction here

the unfortunate thing is that you’re both still big ol wuSSIes

taehyung wants to ask you out on a proper date.,.,. which he did yesterday!! but then you kinD of asked him if he wanted to join you and em for hot cocoa and scones??

and he kinda wants to take you out on a date that perhaps doEsn’t include emma.,,. no offence to her, of course!

he just wants some alone time with u

“so… yesterday was nice!”

almost instantly your cheeks flush and you let out a light laugh “yeah, it really was…”

well

he has you alone

so he might as well go for it agaIN

taehyung clears his throat “hey, so… i don’t know if it wasn’t clear yesterday, but i… would you want to go out on a date with me? like, a proper one?”

“you mean yesterday wasn’t a proper date?” your brows knit together and taehyung automatically enters pANIC mode

“n-no, not at all! i kinda meant l-like, ah, i don’t know, maybe this isn’t a good-“

“tae-“ you reach over and pinch his arm gently “i’m kidding. i would… love to go out on a proper date with you.”

taehyung lights up immediately and nods quickly “how does tonight sound? i overheard emma and hwayoung talking about their sleepover tonight, but if you’re busy we can totally find another time to-“

“tonight’s fine! tonight’s good.” you nod and smile at him

taehyung’s heart skips a beat

he doesn’t know why he’s so nervous and stuttery around you

“i can come pick you up at your place since i know where you live-“ oH gOd okay reel it back “-bECAUSE it’s on the registry-“

“sounds good! you can text me what the plans are after class today so that i’ll know what to wear-“

ᵖᵉᵏ

your lashes flutter when taehyung leans forward and kisses your cheek just like you did to him last night

you unintentionally let out a little gasp and reach up to brush your fingers over your reddening cheek “mr. kim! keep it professional…” there’s a playful glint behind your eyes and taehyung can’t help but snort and roll his eyes playfully “besides - it looks like we have an audience.”

he glances over his shoulder and sure enough all the kids are squiShed up against the window in the door to sneak a peek at mr. kim and emma’s mom

“…scATTER-!“ you hear emma and you can’t help but laugh at the sight of the kids panicking and heading back to their spots

you open your mouth to speak

and then it happens

“mr. kim and emma’s mom, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-s,,,,..,,e?,,.i…a!!! i..?” the song trails off into unsure mumbles because none of the kids know how to spell kissing yet and you let out a groan and reach up to cover your face

taehyung stifles a laugh and shakes his head

“i think that’s my cue to leave” you kiss your teeth and point towards the hallway

“you’re going to leave me here to face the merciless teasing of all those kids by myself?!” taehyung gawks at you before turning to look into the classroom where all the kids are huddled by the whiteboard trying to figure out how to spell kissing as if it was some biG ol conspiracy theory

so far they have ‘khisign’ and ‘keccing’ and.,., one kid wrote down ‘kitten’

huh

maybe he should replace morning singing with morning spelling from now on

“i’ll make it up to you, mr. kim!” you’re already hALfway down the hall and taehyung’s heart goes bAbumP when you blow him a kiss

“i’m holding you to that promise, miss y/l/n!”

ah, yes.

to be young and in love.

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paper-stars-and-fireflies · 4 years

Text

Asking for a friend

The second story in the Grimm Omens series! As before, both main characters are OCs: Magnolia is mine, and Omen belongs to the wonderful @splanoot. Thanks for reading! “I’m tellin’ ya, you gotta go straight for the heart on those, don’t waste your time with the rest!” Maggie waved her arms, gesturing at some imaginary prey as she argued. Omen and Husk nodded back, Husk holding his bottom lip between his lip to keep himself from laughing. Magnolia was a friendly drunk, if a bit loud, and it’d be a long time since she’d let her walls down like this. For his part, Omen had the visor on his helmet cracked a little wider, his trademark jacket folded over the stool between them. Scars criss-crossed his forearms where the sleeves were pushed up to bunch at his elbows. He kept the gloves on, hands resting carefully around his glass. He shook his head, a silent laugh shaking the stress off his shoulders. It was a good night.

“You can’t get to the heart on those until you take care of the rest.” Omen pointed out, tilting his glass at her. Maggie smirked back, finishing her glass and setting it down with a loud clack. She leaned across the open seat between them, almost invading his space - as close as she ever got to him. “That’s what you think, mister. Hunters like me, we get all up close and personal. Besides,” She drew her words out, jabbing him playfully in the chest before leaning back to her own chair. “Don’t underestimate me just because I stick to blades.” She toyed with her snack, some mystery basket of finger food Niffty had dropped off earlier. Her other hand patted at the sheath on her left hip, one of the few she bothered with when she wasn’t on a hunt. She nodded toward his own holster. “Do you ever draw the wrong one? What’s special about it, the gun itself or the bullets or is it both?” Husk shook his head, refilling drinks, watching the two mercenaries argue back and forth in a language only they seemed to speak. Hell, if he didn’t know any better, he might think they’d known each other longer than a couple months. More than once he’d wondered if Omen had earned another fangirl. A thump to his left and the sound of hands hitting his bar drew his attention, along with both his regulars. Angel Dust lay face down on the counter, one set of arms wrapped around his head while another pair of hands clutched at the edge of the bar. Magnolia threw an arm over his hunched shoulders, cooing excitedly. “Angie! It’s been so long!” She said, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Angel just groaned, sitting back just enough to rub at his eyes. Husk got busy making him a virgin drink - he was still on restriction according to Charlie. “I don’t get it, Maggs.” He moaned, finally dropping his hands to his lap. She moved back, letting him sit up. The others ignored him, unamused with his antics. Maggie egged him on, moving to rub his back. “What’s wrong sweet pea?” She asked, pushing him her mysterious bar food. He eyed it before, disgusted, shoving it back. He accepted his drink, also scowling at it when he realized it was nothing but juice and soda. “Men, Maggs! Men are wrong. Well, one man.” He finally spat out, gesturing wildly. Maggie nodded sympathetically, sipping on her drink. Omen turned away some, subtly clicking his visor back down. Magnolia might flourish in social situations, but it was always somewhat awkward terrain for Omen, even with those he was closer with. He didn’t have any ill-will towards Angel, either, it was just… not his area of expertise. It was, however, Magnolia’s. Or least, it had been. “Oh honey,” she drawled, arms around him still, “Tell me about him and I’ll tell you how to break that motherfucker’s heart.” She bared her teeth in a smile that belied her true nature. Angel flinched back, no matter how many times he’d seen it. She dropped it quickly, biting her lip. Angel quirked a smile of his own that quickly faltered. “I don’t wanna break it, doll. I want to keep it.” He whined. He dropped his hands to the bar again, taking a slow sip of his drink for an excuse not to talk. “Oh. Ohhhh. Oh nooo.” Magnolia wailed theatrically, dragging her hands down her face and wiping at imaginary tears. “My baby Angel has all done grown up and found a man he wanna love.” Angel blushed, crossing both sets of arms and turning away from her. She chased him, giggling and smiling sincerely for once. “Look, I came down here for your help, but clearly I shouldn’ta crashed ya date. I’ll be going now.” He complained, standing up and pushing her off. Maggie lurched after him, latching on to his hand. “Don’t gooo, babe, I was just havin’ some fun. I’ll help you, I’ll help you. Look, I’m happy for you, that’s great news!” She said, pulling him back to sit beside her. He complied, one eyebrow raised. She nodded, kicking her feet in little circles, doing her best not to wiggle off the stool. Her best friend, in love! He reminded her of her brother half the time, she could only imagine the kind of man that’d caught his eye. “So tell me about him!” She prompted, when he didn’t start to speak. Angel eyed Husker and Omen. The latter turned away, suddenly fixated by watching the ice bobbing slowly in his glass, while the former shifted bottles around behind the counter, taking stock perhaps. Magnolia sat facing him, both hands perched on her knees, waiting. She shot a glare at Husker when she picked up on Angel’s agitation. “Do we need to head upstairs?” Maggie asked, sliding her empty cup back across the bar. “Or maybe you need a few songs to calm down? Step outside?” She gestured to her mouth, miming smoking, then snapped, letting a spark dance across her fingernails. “No way. He’s grounded, Magnolia. Hand ‘em over if you’re not gonna behave.” Husker jumped in, as much as he didn’t feel like it. If Charlie caught Angel misbehaving on his shift, he’d never hear the end of it. Magnolia huffed, reaching for her pocket, but Angel cut her off. “I, no, doll. It’s fine, I just.” He paused, took a deep breath, held it. Letting it out in a short, he picked through his mind, trying to describe the target of his frustrated affections without giving it away completely. He still had a reputation after all. “Look, you ever, I dunno, you meet a dude you’re into, like, really into, but it don’t make no sense?” He looked down at his hands, all four meshed together and fidgeting in a heap. Maggie laid both her hands over them, helping him still. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about ‘im. I’ve been flirting like crazy, but it’s like he don’t even notice! Me! Am I slippin’ or somethin, Maggs?” He shrugged, aware of how his reputation worked against him here. “I can’t get his attention, does whatever he wants. One of those tall, dark, handsome types momma warns you about, ya know? I don’t know what to do.” Magnolia clicked her tongue, nodding along. “I think types like us fall for types like that because our usual tricks don’t work. I need more to work with though. What have you tried? Or what are you after? What’s the issue exactly?” She asked carefully. Angel slumped a bit, still picking through his brain. “I tried out all kindsa personas and lines and nothin’ phases him. I can’t read him! Not at all! He don’t get rattled, no matter how filthy my mouth gets or what I wear or do. I offered to suck his dick flat out, and what does he say? ‘No!’, to me!” Angel dragged his hands down his face, grumbling. Husker and Omen had turned away completely, taking up the farthest corner of the bar to give them as much privacy as they could with the open floorplan. Angel lowered his voice, leaning closer to his friend. “Those eyes, and that smile. Maggs, I didn’t even know I was into suits!” Angel complained, taking a drag from his drink before sticking his tongue out. “Too sweet, Husk.” Angel called out louder, trying to cover his whispering, maybe, or dismiss the tension he’d created. Husk nodded as if he cared, refilling Omen’s drink without looking. Maggie held her chin, thumb tracing her lips, fingertips pressed into her cheek, studying Angel. Finally, she spoke, though it was barely a whisper. “Angie…. Are you… In love with..Al-?” Immediately Angel lunged at her, almost tackling her out of the chair, trying to cut off the demon’s name. She grabbed his wrists on reflex, springing to her feet and throwing him into a headlock. He coughed, reaching for her side with a free hand. “Easy tiger, save it for the bedroom.” he wheezed, and she dropped him, hands flying to her face in horror. She helped him back to his seat, apologizing profusely. “It was just instinct, I’m so sorry! I - I didn’t mean to!” she repeated, hands clasped in front of her. “Oh, Angie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think it was gonna be - Okay, okay.” She held out her left hand, green sparks fizzling along the back of her hand. She blinked and the same sparks lit in her eyes, hellfire come to witness. “I swear to keep your feelings a secret, until my extermination or the deal undone. Sound like a deal?” She tried to smile reassuringly, offering her hand to him. He shook, sighing. Green wrapped around her hand, gone in a blink. Both of them settled back in their seats, silence hanging awkwardly over them. It wasn’t the first time Maggie had made a deal with Angel, but she hated using them on her friends. Still, it was to protect them. “The deal’ll keep it safe, and he doesn’t send shadows after me when I’m not out on a contract. Your secret’s safe. I, um, bet I can help you out! You’re lucky I’ve been working for him for a while, though, or you’d be shit out of luck.” She continued on, trying to cheer Angel up, but Omen didn’t hear her anymore. He gestured to Husk, bowing his head slightly. Husk moved in close, disguising it by changing his drink for another. “She’s one of Alastor’s?” Omen asked under his breath, eyes trained on Maggie behind his visor. “Has been for a good few months now. Since a couple weeks before you met her, anyways. That boy she’s tryin’ to kill, he’s the real deal. She struck a deal with Alastor to even the playing field.” “Why.” Omen couldn’t keep his voice as flat as he’d have liked, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Husk could see through him. “She needed help. You saw how tore up she got. They probably have some kinda kinship or whatever, or same rulebook.” “Husker. What are you talking about.” Omen barked at him, anxiety spiking. Just when he thought everything was going to be peaceful for once. “She’s a crossroads demon, Omen, same as him. You saw the light show. Made a deal with the bastard.” Husk turned away, knowing he couldn’t say anymore. Omen lowered his head, nails digging into the countertop where he clenched his fists. He stood up abruptly, patting at his pockets. “Gonna go out for a minute,” he said, but only Husk was listening. Magnolia was too wrapped up in swapping stories and details about difficult love interests with Angel and moaning about the ones they’d missed out on for one reason or another. “Do you have any, not tryin’ to be rude here, doll, but any actual, helpful advice? Something for this, ah, particular case?” Angel asked, eyeing the door shutting behind Omen. He had a theory of his own. “Hmmm. Well….” Magnolia hesitated, glancing at the empty barstool behind her. “Those types of men are...very hard to work with sometimes, you know? Your normal tricks aren’t gonna work. Can’t come on strong, can’t come on too weak, or leave it all to them. Hmm.” She paused, running a hand through her hair. There was a flush in her cheeks that definitely wasn’t the alcohol. “Those types, you gotta be blunt and honest, but not so forward. Just kinda, friendly? But a litttttle bit more. You kinda gotta give them room to come out of their shell to you, not the other way around. Take it real, real slow. Make them as comfortable as you can, meetin’ them on their turf. Every now and then, it’s alright to give them a little push or nudge, let them know you’re into them or you want something, but you really gotta leave it up to them in the end. That...that make any sense?” She looked at the empty stool again, then the door, trying to find Omen’s silhouette behind the dark glass. “Uh-huh. Real helpful, doll. So! How long you been datin’ the big bad biker?” Angel shifted gears, leaning into her space. She sputtered, leaning away, face red. “We’re not dating at all! Just friends! We’re just both...regulars here! Right, Husk?” She looked to him with pleading eyes, but he just smiled, not bailing her out. “Uhh-huh. And you just so happened to be into a ‘tall, dark, handsome’ hunter guy that don’t let nobody close, and it’s not your drinkin’ buddy who just so happens to match up perfectly to everything you’ve hinted at for weeks? I ain’t buying it, doll.” “Angel! There’s nothing - I’m not!” She grabbed her drink to hide her embarrassment with a sip but was disappointed to find it was empty. Angel just laughed at her, grabbing at her basket of snacks. “You’re a crossroad demon! Just make a deal with him!” He managed through his laughter. She pouted, carefully tucking her hands away. “I don’t wanna go that route. Not with him.” She whispered, face turned down. “You’re breakin’ my heart, Maggs. I thought I was special!” He whined, arm thrown over his face. She huffed at him, staring at her hands. He softened, dropping his hand on her shoulder. “Tell you what, doll. You take your shot, and, after a little bit, I’ll take mine. How’szat for a deal?” He asked, offering a hand. She took it hesitantly, shaking just once. Another wash of green light snaked around her palm and she sighed, overdramatic as ever with them. “Alright,” she said finally. “Sounds like a deal. But -” She stole a glance at the door, and the figure beyond it. “Not tonight.”

#Grimm Omens #hazbin hotel original character #hazbin hotel oc #radiodust #it's in the background #but it's there

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victoodles · 4 years

Text

Cruel World I’m Gone (Chapter 6)

back again with another chapter, edited by the fantastic @verai-marcel! follow the series on AO3 and make sure you read part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Arthur has unconventional definitions of love. One he originally believed started with Mary. But after years of reflection and introspection, Arthur realized it ran deeper, began sooner.

He’s a young boy, with a father he loathes and silently mourning a mother he still thinks about fondly. A father who is a “no good bastard”, who taught him nothing but contempt and that wickedness could have a face.

Blood is thicker than water?

What a crock of shit.

They’re bitter memories, painful. But a sweetness tinges them, immortalized in the form of six pink flowers and a weathered portrait he still keeps beside his bed - even to this day. Sentimentality is a blessing and a curse.

Now he’s fourteen, on the cusp of manhood and something else entirely. He’s angry. Angry at a dead father who left him with nothing but the hat on his head and a measly mugshot. Angry at the world that couldn’t give a shit about him but still insists on taking, taking, and taking.

But mostly he’s alone, scared; he can snarl and bare his teeth all he likes but he’s still just a child. Arthur yearns for companionship, for a family that he never truly had growing up. For things he was wrongly denied.

It’s unorthodox, but eventually, he does find what he’s looking for. In the form of a younger Dutch and Hosea: the curious couple and their new unruly son.

The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.

And for twenty long years, he had a father - two in fact! They took him in off the streets, taught him how to read, write, shoot. Raised him from a boy to a man capable of finally taking back from this cruel world and then some.

From Hosea, he learned empathy, humanity. And from Dutch, loyalty, a code of honor.

Despite all his hypocrisies, Arthur can’t wash away and deny that he is who he is because of Dutch van der Linde.

Arthur tries to focus on the good years as much as he tries to forget the ugly, warped ending to that chapter of his life. It’s a continuous uphill struggle but that’s nothing new for him, just more difficult to deal with.

Thinking of some good years…

He’s traversing through his twenties now.

Arthur has had a tryst from time to time as a young man, reveling in the experiences of his first kiss and other means of getting handsy. He was awkward at first, as any boy is when they delve into the unknown fruits adolescence bears. Fumbling hands, a nervous flush dusting his cheeks, all bundled in a veil of naivety.

Hosea used to tell everyone, drunk around the campfire, the humiliating tales of a younger Arthur. His particular favorite being when Arthur came to him, on the verge of tears, thinking he now had to marry a local stable girl because he dared to kiss her behind dear old daddy’s barn.

But then there was Mary.

Mary, Mary, Mary.

Formerly known as Gillis, and soon to be Linton. A name no one dared to whisper around camp for years. In a life filled with killing, robbing, and running from the law, Mary was possibly the most complicated aspect of it.

She yearned for things Arthur couldn’t give or be. Wanted a man that Arthur couldn’t become despite his best efforts.

Loyalty is the only thing that matters…

A belief that cost him happiness time and time again.

It wasn’t just Mary at fault - Arthur couldn’t deliver on his promises either.

In the end, he tried. Tried to mold himself into someone worthy of her and her cantankerous father’s expectations of what a man should be. Tried to be one of those Saint Denis socialites with their coiffed hair and perfectly tailor suits. But despite all the gussying, primping and grooming, he was just a rugged outlaw playing at a gentleman. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

It took him a while to overcome his heartbreak, to realize she had her own heavy crosses to bear the same as he did. Roles to fill, people to placate despite the pining of the ever-fickle heart. Coming to terms with that wasn’t easy despite the ever apparent facts. And like many before him, Arthur shared his sorrows with the bottom of a bottle and buried them deeper between the legs of a stranger.

Eliza…

Her name still fills him with guilt, albeit it a dull ache now in contrast to the agonizing stabbing he once felt on his heart. She was just a girl trying to get by, barely on the cusp of twenty, who just happened upon Arthur in a disgustingly familiar drunken stupor as he wallowed in self-pity and the bitter taste of whiskey. She humored him, at least he thinks she did. Or it could’ve been a kindness, he can’t quite recall after all these years.

But she slept with him, let him indulge in his therapeutic carnal desires all the while he sputtered out another woman’s name. He was reckless, careless and he couldn’t give less of a damn at the time.

And as a result, it got her…

It got them…

He can’t dwell on it now, refuses to. The thoughts weigh heavy on him, crushing his ribs in a vice and stealing the breath he counts himself lucky to have from his lungs.

He tries to distract himself, instead focus on things more lighthearted to ease his troubled thoughts. He starts with something tangible, for instance, the small ring in his pocket that suddenly feels ten times heavier than the burdens he that weigh on his bad shoulders. And the girl he intends to give it to...

You.

He doesn’t think he can articulate how much you mean to him, but that doesn’t stop him from trying within the confines of a new leather-clad journal. No longer does he write harsh words of self-deprecation and hopelessness. They’re kinder, eloquent and beautiful. Soft lines that make out the shape of you adorned with hearts. He melds into your embrace all too easy now, and despite two decades of bloodshed and dodging Death’s scythe, he’s never felt safer than in your arms.

Arthur never thought life would deem him worthy of second chances. Dealing him a fortunate hand with a new life, new purpose, new love. Absolution was not a word his tongue was familiar with, yet here he stands on the porch to his - your home. The stains of his past don't follow him beyond the mountains and rolling hills.

The Van der Linde gang is gone - scattered, dead, or both. Arthur Morgan, Dutch’s right-hand gun has turned in his holsters and bandolier and has now found work as a simple carpenter in Annesburg. He spends his day building and expanding the ever-growing civilization he was trying to run from. A law-abiding everyday man. The irony isn’t lost on him. But it’s good work, honest work. The kind that only cares if you’re strong and able and doesn’t focus on the minute details of one’s extensive criminal record.

And he’s proud to say that after months of arduous labor, he managed to save enough for the ring that seems to be burning a hole in his pocket. It’s humble but elegant with a single diamond resting in the middle of a pale gold band.

Like her, Arthur idly muses with a smile.

Ideally, he would’ve loved to grace your finger with some luxurious rock as a grandiose display of his affection. A massive diamond that would glint perfectly in the light atop the rare platinum. It would’ve been all too easy to hold up some pompous jeweler, the routine and its step all but muscle memory at this point. But that’s not how one does when trying to leave behind the life of an outlaw and it wouldn’t be a proper way to start your marriage.

Marriage.

The concept alone has him frozen in front of his own home, trembling with excitement. He thought Mary would be his everything at one point - the future Mrs. Morgan. When she left he felt as if she took that possibility with her along with the shards of his fractured heart. There's a hint of fear in him as well, a nagging sense that history could repeat itself once more. Round and round the thoughts go in his head as he opens the door with a shaking hand, rattling painfully in his skull.

I’m not ready for this.

Dread surges through him, rough seas raging against his chest as his heart threatens to burst. He’s been shot at, beat, and tortured but this plunge he’s about to take might possibly be one of the scariest things he’s ever done.

Arthur somehow manages to get the door open, feet heavier than lead as he makes his way through the threshold. The sound of your singing from the garden out back restores his composure, lulling him into a serenity once more. He’s refocused, and the tremors that plague him gradually cease. There’s a reinvigorated sense of purpose, sparked to life once more, and he eagerly calls your name in response.

“Out here, Arthur!” You chirp back and Arthur wastes no time following the sound of your voice. He doesn’t realize how quickly he rushes to the backdoor until the afternoon sun is blinding him. When he regains his vision he finds you tending to your plants, a basket of freshly picked vegetables at your side and a tender smile on your lips.

Beautiful.

“Happy to see me, are we darling?” Your voice has a teasing lilt to it - he hadn’t realized he’d spoken that last sentiment aloud. A flush creeps up the back of Arthur’s neck, spreading up to his ears and painting them an embarrassing shade of red. He hopes you don’t notice in the sunlight but when your smile turns into a playful smirk, he knows there's no chance of hiding it now.

Arthur clears his throat, “Always am, sweet pea.”

Your impishness seems to have passed for the time being, your simper losing its bite as you turn your attention back to your gardening. “How was work today?” You ask idly as you go to work pulling another carrot from the dirt.

It was the same as any other day, building more housing for the miners in the ramshackle town of Annesburg. Who can think about something so mundane when there were bigger picture things for him to be concerned about? But still, he answers back with a simple, “Good.”

You titter at that. “How positively exciting, Mr. Morgan.”

Arthur wishes he had more to offer in terms of a response but he’s too distracted by you. There’s dirt smudged on your cheeks and hands, skirt a wrinkled mess, and hair in a messy braid to keep out of the way of your gardening. Some might find you disheveled but he thinks you look absolutely lovely- as always.

A voice in the back of his mind whispers, She’s not her.

He finds himself imagining what you would look like in all white, waiting for him at the altar of a church. Maybe at the cathedral in Saint Denis where the colors of the impressive stained glass would shine down on you, casting you in an ethereal rainbow glow. In your hand is a bouquet of the finest flowers: lavender, honeysuckle, daisies. A gossamer of silk covers your face, that same breathtaking smile on your lips as Arthur makes his way towards you and-

“Arthur?” You snap him out of the daydreaming he inadvertently slipped into. “Are you alright?”

“I-” He struggles to find the right words, any words, but comes up short. You look at him expectantly but that only makes him more tongue-tied. Christ, he’s a grown man, this shouldn’t be so difficult.

“You…” You try to ease him into something resembling a response, bless your heart, but still, nothing.

So instead he opts for action.

Arthur gets down on one knee in the dirt with you, going for the ring he still has nestled in his jacket. Your eyes go wide at the gesture, and even wider when he silently presents the ring to you.

“I,” he begins again, voice a little stronger in its conviction. “I love you. More than you could ever know.” He takes your hand with his free one, running his fingers over your knuckles softly. Tears begin to well up in your eyes and you can’t help as they begin to trail down your cheeks.

Arthur continues, “You are my heart, my soul, my everything. Without you, Hell, I wouldn’t even be in front of you to ask this. When I’m with you, everything makes sense. And I’m ready, really ready to start over, good and proper. With you.”

It’s time to leave Arthur Morgan the outlaw, the man shackled by so many fears and doubts behind in the ashes of what once was. His rebirth comes in dreams of the future, hand in hand and growing old by the fireplace.

Together.

“So I was wonderin’...what I’m trying to ask is you would-”

“Yes,” you whisper, unable to find your own voice now. You heart is hammering fiercely, galloping like a wild horse at the sheer intensity of Arthur’s proposal.

He can’t help but chuckle at your ardor, endearing (and relieving) as it may be. “You didn’t let me-”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes a thousand times yes you silly man!” you exclaim with no hesitation this time, throwing yourself on him and peppering him with kisses. “Yes,” you repeat over and over and over, as many times as you can to reaffirm you aren't dreaming. That this isn’t your own self-made mirage that could vanish at any moment.

Arthur is momentarily stunned and brings you as close to him as possible, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he finds his own tears starting to form. The same voice is back, no longer a whisper but a firm reassurance of, She isn’t her. She isn’t any of them.

And she never will be.

“Say it again.”

Let it be real.

Your lips find his now, in between each kiss marked with a, “yes”.

A single syllable has him enraptured, spellbound. Such a glorious admittance, the most heavenly sound he’s ever heard.

And as he slips the ring onto your finger, the both of you grinning madly, he thinks “I do” will sound even better.

#vic's fics!#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader

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lilhemmo · 5 years

Note

24 & 70 w/ sweet pea

24: soulmate au70: locked in a room

a/n: so i’ve been wanting to write a bodyguard au and this just so happens to work out so here it is! and this is a fem!reader just because sp will specifically say “ma’am” repeatedly for, y’know, professionalism’s sake ;)

trigger warnings: violence, blood, guns, knives

“Ma’am.”

“You’re overreacting, just chill out. My father didn’t even have to send you.”

“Ma’am.”

“Seriously, this is fine! It’s just a club.”

“Ma’am.”

“What!?” you turn on your heels, scrunching up your nose in annoyance.

Sweet Pea opens the door for you, rather begrudgingly, “Please be safe.”

You laugh, the smell of alcohol and lost inhibitions wafting through the air, “That’s what I have you for, babe.”

You barely have time to gauge his reaction before you’re pushing through the crowd and making your way to the bar. Veronica wasn’t kidding when she said she was going to start buying up real estate all over Riverdale. Your father and Hiram were business partners at one time, but ever since Mr. Lodge was carted away to prison, you’ve been doing the business on your father’s behalf.

“Ronnie!” you squeal, launching yourself across the bar to hug her around the neck. “Girl, you will not believe. My father made me bring my bodyguard.”

Veronica smirks, watching as the man trying so hard to act casual sweeps the area with his eyes. She bites her lip before turning her attention back to you, “Honey, he picked the hottest bodyguard after Reginald. What’s his name?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, tapping the bar to request a drink. “He’s been hanging around for months, training or something. I just like to ruffle his feathers. Calling him ‘babe’ really pisses him off.”

“You’re a mess,” Ronnie rolls her eyes, “I’m going to check on Reggie. Of course everything is on the house. We’ll talk business later?”

You nod, pulling the straw between your lips and sipping on your drink concoction. Thank god the bartender knows your regular.

“Ma’am,” your bodyguard steps into your side, alerting you to his presence.

You chuckle and swirl your drink, “Any threats detected, sir?”

He sweeps his dark eyes over the dance floor before turning his attention back to you, “Probably a couple of perverts hovering near the ladies room. Other than that, nothing to report.”

“Perverts by the ladies room is just another Saturday night,” you smirk, setting your drink down on the counter. You sit with your back to the bar and you can tell that makes him nervous. He leans over and picks up your drink before anyone can come near it.

“If you hold it, it’ll get hot,” you whine emphatically. “Just put it on the counter, everyone knows me here.”

“Which is exactly why your father hired me,” he speaks curtly. “I won’t keep my job if you get your drink roofied.”

You shake your head and narrow your eyes, “My father is cowering in some penthouse hideaway, so I don’t currently take orders from him. I can’t believe I even let you follow me around the past few months.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not hired to be your friend,” he deadpans, handing your drink back to you. “I’m hired to keep you safe. Whether you like it or not.”

You gulp down the rest of your drink and slam the glass back on the counter, wiping your lip with the back of your hand. You go to speak, but he’s infuriating you past the point of speech, so you stalk off into the crowd to find someone to dance with.

six months later

“Get down!” he shouts, pushing you behind the kitchen table. He hands you a kitchen knife and your key ring that has pepper spray attached, “Ma’am, I’m going to take care of this, so stay put and be quiet.”

“Wait,” you whisper, grabbing him by the shoulder. “What’s your name?”

He pants, his eyes darting from you to the door, “Uh, it’s Sweet Pea, ma’am.”

“Okay,” you nod, releasing his shirt, “I-I just thought I should know in case I, y’know, die or something.”

Sweet Pea smiles sadly, pushing a lock of sweaty hair away from your face, “You’re not dying today, ma’am. Just stay put, I’ll keep you safe.”

He’s gone before you have the chance to say anything else. You clutch your pepper spray to your chest and the knife wavers in your hand, so you hold it tighter, so tight that your knuckles turn white. You swallow and tears leak down your cheeks, burning your skin as you try to keep whimpers from escaping your lungs.

It feels like an eternity, gun fire and screaming and explosions echoing in the rooms adjacent to your own. You flinch with every loud noise, afraid that it might be the last thing you hear before you die. Your hand goes numb from clutching the kitchen knife, but it makes you feel safe so you don’t dare to let it go.

Then everything goes quiet.

The only thing you can hear is your own breath rattling around in your lungs. You try to watch for shadows against the walls, wondering if you’ll be taken by the men who threaten your home.

Your name is called by a familiar voice and you find tears streaming freely down your cheeks and a sob breaks your lips open. Sweet Pea turns the corner and he catches your body as it sags, the knife clattering from your hands to the kitchen tile floor.

“You’re okay, ma’am,” he murmurs into your hair as you cry into his shirt. You wilt against his body, but he holds you up with his arms around your shoulders.

You shake your head against his chest, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. You go to speak, but you’re interrupted by your whole body leaving the ground. Clutching his shirt further, you realize that Sweet Pea has pulled you off the ground and started to carry you out of the house.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he tells you as he settles you in the back seat of his black SUV. “Just sleep. We’ll be home soon.”

You’re sure that you’ll never be able to sleep again in your lifetime, but as soon as the car starts and the hum of the engine vibrates your body, you find yourself lulled to sleep.

two months later

“I never believed in soulmates until I met Sweet Pea,” Toni chuckles, tipping her beer back against her lips. She smirks over at you, “I never knew he would be so different after he joined the force. He came back a different person, but I’m starting to see his old self come back again. Even just in glimpses.”

You can’t help but let your eyes wander to the parking lot where you know a familiar SUV is parked, watching your every move and making sure that you won’t come into any sort of harm. Your heart warms at the thought of it.

It’s difficult to even think about soulmates with the past few months you’ve had, but you know that the mark on your hand means that you have one. A flower that curls around your wrist and up your forearm means that you’re destined to have a life partner, one made perfectly for you.

“I doubt Sweet Pea has the mark,” you tell her, mouth against the rim of your glass. You force a smile onto your face, “Besides, I’m not in the line of work to have a soulmate. Too many casualties since my father went to prison.”

Toni shakes her head, “I think you’d be surprised what you’d find if you stripped him of a few pieces of clothing.”

Your cheeks burn red, but you can’t find it in you to respond.

Later that night, when Sweet Pea is doing a final sweep of your home, you reach out and grab him by the sleeve.

“Please,” you find yourself speaking weakly, tears threatening to fall. “Stay.”

You can see that he wants to object, but he raises his hand to press against the earpiece lodged on his left side and he mutters a few lines of code you can’t seem to understand. He nods to someone outside and then pulls the piece from his ear and takes you by the hand.

“Whatever you need, ma’am,” he tells you, allowing you to grasp him by the waist and pull him into your body. His warmth provides you with some sort of solace that you cannot explain no matter how hard you try.

“Thank you,” you whimper into his shirt. You swallow the lump in your throat and throw away any inhibition about the tears that are soaking his clothes.

Somehow you convince him to crawl into your bed, and the sound of his pistol clunking into the bedside drawer gives you some semblance of safety. It’s not your fault that he’s tall and quiet and intimidating, but all of those things rolled into this one man’s body make you feel at home.

four months later

You just wanted to test out your new panic room, that’s all. You just needed to learn how to close the doors and operate the cameras. It’s not your fault that there was a bug in the system from the company who installed it, and now you have to wait until someone from that very company can come to bail you out.

Oh well, at least you have some company.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, I failed,” Sweet Pea apologizes as he paces the small space. He shakes his head and the veins on his arms and neck and forehead stress against his skin. He sighs, “I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

You intercept him and brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you, “Sweets, it’s okay. It was an accident.”

“I’m the head of your security team,” he grunts, trying to keep his cool with you so close. “I should be smarter than this.”

You try not to laugh as to not further damage his ego. Instead, you frame his face with both palms, “You’re the head of my security team because I trust you with my life. Nobody could have predicted a malfunction with the safe, and there’s no reason to go all James Bond on the situation because we have an alternative way out and we’re not currently in danger.”

Sweet Pea shrinks a little into your touch, the metaphorical weights sliding off of his shoulders and allowing him a moment to breathe. He looks you in the eyes, “I appreciate the sentiment, ma’am, and the hesitation to scold me.”

“I can scold you if you like,” you wink, dropping your hands back to cross your arms over your chest. “If that’s what you’re into.”

It’s only there for a fleeting moment, but Sweet Pea’s eyes and skin betray him as his cheeks burn pink and his eyes travel to your lips.

You reach across and tug on his gloved hand, “Do you ever take these off?”

“They help my grip,” he explains, “so I only take them off when I sleep.”

You bite your lip, contemplating how to see if he has the soul mark to match your own. You’ve felt a connection to this man for a while now, but you were only ever able to explain it to yourself as the connection you feel when you lay your life in someone else’s hands.

“I want to see your wrist.”

You settle for direct.

He blanches, eyes wide and mouth drawn open. Sweet Pea swallows, his throat bobbing, but he reaches for his glove anyway. He must know what you’re talking about, because he reaches for the exact hand you had in question. If it has what you think it has written over it, he will be your exact match.

“Wait,” you order, grabbing him by the hand.

Sweet Pea halts, eyes open as he stares down at you. You gently drag one palm up his torso to card into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him downward to meet you halfway as you stand to your toes.

“I want to do this before I know,” you tell him, your lips a ghost against his. He does not struggle or pull away, and so you push yourself the rest of the way until your mouth is flush with his.

It takes him a moment to respond, but his arms rest at your waist and he tugs you as close as he can, abdomens completely in line with one another. His lips are tangled with yours, slotted perfectly, just as you assumed they would be. His mouth is warm and tastes of cinnamon, just like the gum he constantly chews throughout the day. You wonder what you taste like to him, but you haven’t got another moment to care when he bites down on your lower lip and hooks his hands under your knees.

Sweet Pea hoists you onto the small counter in the tiny panic room, resting his body between your knees and never breaking the connection of your lips. A small groan emits from the back of his throat and now you’re dying to know if he is your match, your soulmate.

You break apart, hair mussed and lips bright red. You can’t help the giggle that tugs open your mouth, but you force yourself to redirect your attention to his wrist.

“I didn’t want it to be just because we were meant to be,” you tell him as your hand hovers over his glove. You slide your index finger under the lip of the material, feeling his pulse quicken under your touch. “I had to let you know that I wanted this before I know.”

He nods, a heady breath shaking his lungs, “I-I wanted it to. But I already know.”

You remove his glove, and there, wrapped around his wrist, is a beautiful flower with petals to match your own.

a/n: whew, that was a long one! hope you liked it, anon! feel free to request more!! :)

#sweet pea #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea one shot #sweet pea fanfic #sweet pea fanfiction #riverdale #riverdale x reader #riverdale fanfic #riverdale one shot #riverdale imagine #sweet pea imagine #my writing

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lanadeljones · 5 years

Note

It’s All Hallows’ Eve and something has went awry in greendale. A succubus has been let loose, but doesn’t yet have a corporeal form. ANYWAY. It possesses Betty. Her boyfriend, Jughead, has to wildly fuck her brains out until she’s rid of it. 😈 Happy Halloween!

Thank you so much for this fun prompt!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20798906/chapters/50706698

Jughead blinks slowly as he tries to process the jumble of unfamiliar words that were just spoken to him. He stares blankly at Toni’s grandmother, the outline of her body growing fuzzy as his eyes strain. She repeats the same words again, slowly this time as if the ancient dialect would somehow become clearer.

Shaking his head to clear his mind his eyes travel to Betty who's tied to the bed in the corner of the room. He watches as she licks her lips towards an uncomfortable Sweet Pea, his eyes looking in every direction but hers. She slinks a stocking clad leg towards him, putting it on full display before him in an attempt to entice him to her bed.

He clicks his tongue in disapproval as Sweet Pea’s eyes start to wander toward Betty before shooting wide eyed to Jughead. He gave him an apologetic look as he makes his way to the other side of the room, shuffling away from a now pouting Betty, his cheeks growing warm from embarrassment.

“Can you please explain all this to me” he looks over the eccentric woman’s shoulder to Toni. Betty begins to rattle her handcuffs against the iron headboard, her singsong voice traveling across the large room.

“Juggie” she exaggerates the last syllable of his nickname, “come have some fun with me. I can make you feel so good,baby” her sweet voice melting like cotton candy.

“In layman’s terms” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “and quickly please” he adds as he readjusts himself in his seat. Silently cursing himself for his body reacting to Betty’s sultry undertones.

Tony smirks and pushes herself off the counter she was leaning on, walking forward to take the seat her grandmother got up from. “It’s simple, Jones” she begins as she leans forward and flips the ancient book around so the text is facing Jughead. “Betty here has been compromised by a succubus of sorts” she flips a yellowing page and points to a picture on the page.

“What? Like she’s possessed?” the panic evident in his voice.

“Not exactly possessed, more like she’s being influenced by it”

“Okay” he sighs, “how do we fix this? Where did this thing even come from?”

“Greendale” Toni’s grandmother replies from over her shoulder, her hands busy grabbing various glass bottles and vials from the many shelves of the bookcase. “I’ve been hearing whispers of this traveling around. Seems it’s made its way down Sweetwater River and into our sleepy little town” She throws the final ingredient into her stone mortar and picks up the pestle, “luckily there’s a simple solution”

“Okay, great” Jughead moves to the edge of his seat, “what is the solution?”

“sexus appositi” she replies effortlessly, the various charms and beads woven in her hair sparkle in the lights as she grinds her concoction to a fine dust.

Jughead leans back and runs his hands in his hair looking at Toni for a translation, his brow furrows as he realizes she is avoiding his gaze. He moves his foot under the table and gently knocks Toni’s foot to get her attention, startling her out of her daze.

“Sex Jones” she sighs as she crosses her arms, “you have to literally fuck this out of Betty” she laughs at the expression that forms on his face. She looks over Jughead’s shoulder and nods her head to Sweet Pea and the other people in the room, she leans forward and rests her elbows on the table. “Don’t worry, you can do the rite here. If anything goes awry we will be around to assist you, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about”

Jughead stares at her for a moment, his mouth opening and closing in confusion as his mind races with questions. Movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention, he turns his head and watches as the Sweet Pea and the other work around the room lighting numerous candles and pouring what looks like black salt around the bed that Betty laid in. He looks back at a smirking Toni, “you can’t be serious right now” he asks flatly.

“Relax Jones” she reaches behind her for the small glass vial her grandmother is holding out for her. “You and Betty are perfectly fine” she begins as she pours the clear liquid onto her fingertips before leaning forward and running her wet fingertips across Jughead’s forehead, “just chalk this up to a wild kinky all hallows' eve night” her fingers trace an unfamiliar symbol across his skin.

Jughead’s eyes flutter close as he takes a deep breath, he can feel his body relaxing as the oil melts across his skin. Once his eyes opened the lights were turned off, the room now casted in a warm red glow from the lit candles. He watches Toni stood up from her chair and walked over to her Grandmother by the door. He rises, scraping his chair harshly, and begins walking towards them. His eyes connecting with Betty for a moment, he jaw clenches at the sight of her sitting in the bed, the slit of her dress hiked up to expose her long leg and the dip of her hip bone.He stops in front of the two Topaz women, their eyes twinkling in the candlelight as they look between the bed and his face.

Toni steps forward and flicks her wrist in the air sharply, the metal clink rings in the quiet room as the handcuffs around Betty’s wrist are unlocked. “Remember to have some fun tonight, Jonesy” she smirks as she turns and walks out the door. “Also” she calls over her shoulder, “the room is sound-proof” she winks as she leaves the room, a flash of pink hair is the last Jughead sees of his friend.

Shaking his head at Toni’s teasing he turns to the elder Topaz, a thank you on the tip of his tongue, before she stops his words with a shake of her head. With a smile on her face she raises her hand between them, a mound of fine red dust nestled in her palm. In a flash she blows across her open hand and sends a cloud of red across Jughead’s face.

Staggering backwards Jughead coughs as he inhaled the red dust, his breathing grew heavy as he blinks repeatedly from the stinging in his eyes. The heavy slam of the door rings in his head as the questions forming in his mind slowly melt and swirl away and being replaced with one thing and one thing only. Betty.

“Juggie” Betty’s singsong voice floats across the room, beckoning him to look towards her. She’s standing to the side of the bed, her body hidden in the shadows of the candles except for the milky white skin of her exposed thigh of her dress.

Jughead licks his lips as his eyes follow the movement of Betty’s hands running along the plunging neckline of her silk dress. A growl growing in the back of his throat as her hands ghost over her breast and down her torso towards the tie that held the flimsy wisp of silk together. With one strap between her fingers she bites her lip as she begins to pull it loose, her eyes heavy with lust as the black fabric falls to her feet. Jughead palms the front of his jeans at the sight of her in nothing but her black stockings, the crisp air bringing her breast to tight peaks. She brings her hand out in front of her and lures Jughead forward with the flick of her finger.

Jughead rushes forward, the lust pumping thick in his veins as he picks Betty up and slams her against the wall behind her. He brings his mouth to hers in a clash of teeth and tongue, both battling for dominance with Betty the victor. He places sloppy wet kisses along her sharp jaw and down her neck, licking and sucking against her pulsepoint. His hands grasps her waist tightly before running down to her core, groaning deeply when he feels how silky and ready she is for him. Wrapping one of her legs around him he grinds heavy against her glistening core, his hand gripping her thighs as he whispered hotly into her ear.

“I want to give you everything. Tell me what you want. I’m yours, completely” he rubbed himself against her with each declaration.

Without saying a word Betty brings her hands to his shoulders and begins to push him down to his knees and towards the place she craves him the most, her sharp nails digging into his muscles as he slowly makes the descent, his eyes never leaving hers. He falls hard on his knees and he licks his lips in anticipation at the sight of her before him. She runs her hands through his hair, her nails scratching his scalps and she guides him towards her. They both groan in unison when his long tongue makes its first swipe, her sweet taste on his lips sends him into a frenzy. Betty closes her eyes and relaxes against the cool wall, getting completely lost in the sensation Jughead as she releases her hand from his hair and brings them up to squeeze and rub her breasts. Reaching closer to her bliss she brings her leg to drape over his shoulder, pressing her heel into his back she pushes him closer to her as she falls over the edge and her vision shatters as she climaxes.

She removes her leg from Jughead, her stocking rolling down her leg in the process. She watches with heavy eyes as he straightens up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, her chest heaving as her body is coming down. She moves her hand to swipe at the beads of sweat rolling down the valley of her breasts, but Jughead’s quick tongue beats her to it as he licks her dewy skin. He sucks harshly against the sensitive flesh of her cleavage, leaving a swirl of purple bruised skin before placing a delicate kiss against it. The action reignites the fire burning in her belly, suddenly feeling ravenous as her fingers tug and pull at the fabric still covering Jughead, the fabric ripping and tearing in her haste.

Jughead steps back as he kicks off his jeans, stumbling slightly as he kicks the denim clear across the room. Betty watches him with keen eyes, her back flush against the wall and her hips swaying side to side waiting for him. Growing impatient, Betty brings her hands down to her core and drags her digits between herself and circling her aching bundle of nerves. With her head down and her eyes enthralled with her hand’s movements she gasped with Jughead suddenly appeared before her and quickly removes her hand, a small whimper escapes her lips at the loss and morphed into a groan as he wrapped his lips around her wet fingers, licking her clean.

Once satisfied, he releases her hand and steps towards her, bracing his hands on either side of her against the wall. His body completely surrounding her against the wall, his skin brushing lightly against hers. With a subtle jerk of her hips against his sets him off, and he lowers his hands to the back of her thighs and pushes her up and wraps her around his hips, opening her up fully to him as he fully slips inside her. He hisses at the overwhelming feeling of her hot and tight around him, his hips still for a moment as he steadies himself.

“Come on Juggie, give it to me” Betty hotly begged in his ear, her hands gripping the side of his neck, her thumb rubbing against his pulse.

Jughead snaps his hips, a deep moan rumbles out of his throat, and he picks up his pace before forming a sinfully dizzying rhythm. Betty's loud moans and her nails against his flesh encouraging him to go faster,deeper,harder. Both lost in each other the loud crash of the picture falling off the wall breaks them out of their reverie, shards of glass scattered across the floor. Jughead pushes them off the wall and walks towards the bed with Betty still tightly wrapped around him, tossing her on top of the bed.

He looks at Betty writhing and moaning on the bed, opening her legs wide for him as he climbs up the bed. He crawls between her legs, his eyes devouring her glistening skin, he grabbed her hips and lifts her off the bed and twists her so she’s facing the mattress. He runs his hand down her spine, he feels himself growing impossibly harder at the sight of her on all fours, sweat pooling in the dimple of her lower back. Wrapping his hands at the crease where her hips meets her thighs he watches as he lines himself up to her and enters. Building a fast rhythm, the slap of their sweat slicked skin filled the room as they both reach higher and higher to euphoria. Betty’s voice growing higher and higher with each quick snap of his hips.

Sweat runs down his temples, a few drops fall into his eyes, with fuzzy vision he reaches down and grabs Bettty’s breast, squeezing as he continues to pump into her. He grabs her waist and twists his body, bringing Betty to suddenly be on top. Betty hovers over him, hair wild with a mischievous look on her face as she lines herself up.

“Gorgeous” the breathless words escape out of Jughead’s lips as she stares wide eyed at the beauty above him.

Betty smiles at his admiration and leans down and places a hot kiss against his lip, gently nipping his bottom lip as she moves away. She drags her nails down his lean chest as she straightens herself up and moving over his eager member. Closing her eyes she slides down his length, fully taking him in, her mouth slack as the moan leaves her throat at the new angle this position provided.

Jughead grabs her hips and begins rocking her against him, lifting her slightly before bringing her down against him. Betty brings her hands down on his lower stomach to aid in her quickening movements, her fingers digging into his skin the faster she moves. Jughead begins to lifts his hips off the bed to match her movements, resulting in Betty crying out and arching her back. With her head thrown back she moves her hands up her body to her chest, pinching and tweaking her hardened nipples.

“I’m close Juggie” she yells as her hips begin to move sloppily against him, her hands grasping for him in a desperate attempt to feel more of him.

Jughead stills her hips between his hands and begins to pump into her steadily. His body desperate for its own sweet release, he picks up his pace as he begins to feel the fluttering of Betty around him. Knowing Betty was on the brink, he brings one hand down and rubs her swollen clit, ripping a scream out of Betty at the added sensation.

“That’s it baby. Let go” he commands as he adds pressure to his hand’s movements.

Betty slaps Jughead’s hand away from her hip and plunges herself fully against him, wailing as she comes undone. Jughead’s vision goes white as he feels Betty’s tightly squeeze around him, milking him and taking everything he is giving her. Still moving his hips inside of her as he empties inside of her he feels Betty’s walls slowly flutter as she is coming down.

The final clench around Jughead steals the breath out of him, the unexpected force startled him. He snaps his eyes open to look at her and he tilts his head to the side at the sight above him. Betty is frozen in a state of ecstasy, her head thrown back with on arm across her chest while the other is across her torso. Panic starts to creep up his spine at the rigid state of her, he begins to run his hands over her thighs in a feeble attempt to awaken her, his only solace was the light rising and falling of her chest signally that she was still breathing while in this state.

Jughead watches her closely for any signs, his hands rubbing up her legs and her lower back. Suddenly a wisp of black smog flows out of her slack mouth, slowly building in density the longer it tickles out and forms above him like a cloud. Once the last of the black substance leaves her mouth, Jughead watches the black mass swirl and glide across the room before slipping underneath the thin open space under the closed door. The moment the mass is completely gone, Betty gasps.

“Juggie?” Betty asks groggily as she takes deeps breaths, her small frame beginning to move on more.

“Shhh, baby” Jughead reassures her, rubbing soothing circles against her thighs. He smiles at the big yawn that Betty doesn’t even try to hide from him. “Come here” he lifts her off of him and lays her down besides him. He chuckles at the sight of her rolled down stockings gathered around her ankles as he helps remove them.

He pulls the comforter back from under her and brings it up over the both of them. He curled himself flush behind her, one arm under her pillow and the other hand is combing through her hair. He moves her hair out of her face as he places light kisses against her shoulder blade, his legs sliding to tangle between hers. He places his head against the plush pillow as Betty’s breathing evens out as she falls deeper into sleep. Bringing his arm to wrap around her middle he gently scoots her flush against his chest.

“Happy all hallows' eve, my love” Jughead whispers as he places a gentle kiss against Betty’s hair.

Betty hums contently as she burrows her face deeper into her pillow.

#riverdalevents #Mini ask game #bughead drabble #Supernatural AU

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hortascountrysidenotes · 4 years

Text

Everything Matters

I do try not to write anything controversial, confrontational or political but rather comment on the day to day goings on in the beautiful part of the world where we live and where, if we so wished, it would be easy to turn a blind eye to global and national events that upset us. However the machinations of the past week warrant comment, and my comment would simply be, if you anthropomorphised the dwellers in the natural world, would swallows, hedge sparrows, butterflies, lapwings, starlings, swifts, turtle doves, every cornfield insect to just name a few, all be carrying placards saying Our Lives Matter, each time a human being trashed their habitat or squirted some vicious poison - They had no choice in our decisions - we have a choice, and we can and must learn to live in harmony whatever our race creed or colour, we should not need to despoil works of art, parts of our heritage and history, intimidate others or cause harm to animals when dialogue, debate and diplomacy should be able to resolve grievances. We have paid a heavy price for the lockdown in terms of jobs lost, mental health, loneliness and so on, to stoop as low as some in the last few weeks belittles our position in the world as the Alpha species.

Enough of that.... all good in the vicinity. The weather has calmed after a really good dollop of rain and the garden looks wonderful with the grass the greenest it has been since early April. The borders have fluffed up and filled out - all the dahlias have now filled the gaps and flower buds are forming up. The initial colours of early summer which I always think are so reminiscent of Chelsea Flower Show - alliums, iris, aquilegias, early perennial geraniums and tulips are now being punctuated by the first of the hot colours. The Salvia Hot Lips is flowering and its cousin the bright cerise one. I have now seen a specimen of Amethyst Lips in flower - very classy.

Vegetables look much better, and we shall be eating courgettes before long. I had thought the broad beans might be ready but not quite - they probably need this warmer weather - it was cold during the wet spell.

We hope Mavis is in pup - she certainly looks a little thicker behind the ribs and after a week of antibiotics and some fairly intense input, the nasty infection on her neck has almost healed - still very red, but all the scabs have come off and the swelling and bruising are abating. It was a shame to have to resort to antibiotics, but many an expert has reassured me that it is unlikely to have harmed unborn foetus. The other two are in very good form and enjoying being back in the garden lazing in the sunshine.

Bird life always causes interest and fascination. The young brood of swallows are about, but so is at least one if not two other adults - there have been some cross border skirmishes in the garage as our resident male drives the others out and then yesterday just as we were wondering how we could provide a further nesting site for next year, we witnessed two going in and out of Mr Horta’s shed - this is not convenient! He always leaves doors open and now we are not sure if they are scouting for a nesting site or what but they are being quite persistant. If the worst comes to the worst and they do indeed start to find a ledge on a shelf where they can build, we shall have to try and close up half the door way, cover the work tops with dust sheets and wait! Many young birds are in the garden - four young jays in the holm oaks is a first - not necessarily quite what we would wish for but in light of the first paragraph Mi casa Su casa rules apply. Their parents are endlessly on the bird table - I suppose its better they take seeds and nuts for food rather than other birds chicks and eggs! A squirrel is also back, digging everywhere clearly trying desperately to remember where he buried a nut last autumn. Plus guess who came back - Moriarty’s cousin, but not for long - red hot this time but again feeling guilty bearing in mind para one. Its difficult! But I could not stand back and see herbaceous plants suddenly wilt as the excavator went underneath their roots - plants too matter!

The common is covered in the first of the summer wildflowers - buttercups, orchids, the start of the knapweeds, ragged robin and in several places my little attempts to seed yellow rattle about have worked.

Things to do in the garden - make sure autumn raspberries are secured so they cant collapse in heavy rain or wind. Start to deadhead the earlier flowering roses as the rain did a bit of damage and then in the next two weeks or so, give them feed either with liquid or powder such as Top Rose but only if rain can wash it in. Regularly feed tomatoes cucumbers and containers with Tomorite or similar. Keep picking sweet peas so they continue to flower and feed them too.Cut back Catmint and Geranium phaeum, Tellima etc hard - the Catmint might just be starting to fade a little and even though the bees will still be on it, in order to get a second flowering it needs doing before the end of this month. If Choisyas had got too big or had broken branches, now is the time to prune them as hard as you like and re shape them - they will come back. Make sure dahlias have enough supports. Evaluate iris - some clumps may need splitting up and replanting with fertiliser particularly if flowering was poor this season. This job has to be done by end July early August to do any good so its worth deciding which clumps to do rather than try and do them all in the same year. Box cutting should be in full swing and again its well worth feeding it hard after cutting - try and cut only if it is cloudy and relatively cool and it does pay to wet it to stop the leaves bruising too badly. Photos today are all taken by Miss Horta during an evening’s stroll.

HORTA

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melo-yello · 5 years

Text

Bloodie Knuckles

Not my moodboard

Pairing(s): Sweet Pea x POC Reader

Warning(s): swearing, angst, fluff

Summary: Y/n has got an axe to grind and some missed placed rage. Who better than Sweet Pea to help her out.

A/N: This takes place somewhere in season 2. I like my Sweet soft but tuff around the edges so be prepared. Also reblog or comment and I'll add you to the Taglist.

Word Count: 4k+

Wrappers and loose leaf pages decorated the floor around your feet. The awful mood that hung on your shoulders since receiving the worst news of your life only seemed to pile higher and higher.

“Where the hell is it?” You curse ripping yet another item form your locker and tossing it to the tiled hallway floor.

The pastel pink snake plushie flew from the top shelf. Sweet Pea had won you that on your last trip to Midnight Park , a cruddy little amusement park just pass Greendale barely worth the trip. The small theme park had been a home away from since you guys were kids. Fangs and Pea would compete for prizes at every single booth while you and Toni took on every coaster in sight.

Naturally Sweet Pea would take you there as a first date. Insisting Pop's just wasn't special enough. After taking down three 8 year olds, a 12 year old and two 14 year olds in a water gun race Sweet Pea presented you with the goofy pink snake with enough charm to rival his own.

The teddy usually proudly positioned at the top of your cluttered locker now lay on top of your dingy white canvas high tops.

The longer you searched the small confides of the metal walls the more your temper edged over its peak.

You slammed the now empty locker enough force to rattle a few beside it. It rang up and down the corridor. The mob of teens rushing to morning classes almost shrieked to a standstill to find the source of the abrupt commotion.

“Jeez Y/n, are you okay!?” The former lead pussycat turned river vixen asked placing a concerned hand on your shoulder. One of the last people you wanted to see at the moment. All too easy of a target to lose the full weight of your rising temper.

Cynical laughter erupted from your chest as you turned to face her. She had no idea the unbridaled flames that wait behind that glass smile you gave her.

“You would know wouldn't you, Popstar Princess. Or are you too busy to care about what happens to the Southside?” You quipped down at the girl who barely made it past your shoulders.

Out of the corner of your e/c eyes you see Toni and Fangs turn the corner just in time to watch the scene unfold. You shrug. Your rage in every sense was grounded.

Toni knew that wild look in your eyes all to well. She tugged the taller serpent down and whispered something to him. Fangs simply nodded and pulled out his phone. He exchanged a few phrases and then hung up all without his eyes leaving your face.

Too bad you couldn't bring yourself to care.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Hostility steeping dangerously hot between the two of you.

“Oh just that your Mom is doing great job of screwing over the Southside!” The venom that had been boiling in your veins finally slipping over.

“My mom is just doing her job!”

“I'd sure as hell hate to see what it looks when she doesn't!”

“What is your problem?”

“Don't even get me started. Shit, even you aren't that blind, Primadonna?! Let me see I can't pick between her being a hypocrite or forcing me and family out on the street.”

“Y/n, I'm so so sorry it's jus-”

“But tell me how does she possibly fit the time in her busy schedule to pull all nighters with Sheriff Keller in sleazy little motel rooms.” You hissed pulling your ring clad hands into a tight fist.

Each finger arrayed in metal and cheap gemstones. Your h/c curls hung freely as a menacing glare settled onto your features.

Astonished gasp sweeps through the crowd.

“What the hell are you trying to say?” Josie's remorseful confusion melted into furious indignation.

Wild eyed embarrassment made its way onto her face. Your lips curl in sneer as you clear your throat. Before the words could leave your lips grunts and curses rippled from the back of the mob of teens.

“Move the fuck out of my way.” Rang the gruff voice of the tall dark haired serpent pushing his way through the crowd and glaring down at anyone who dared to question him just to plant himself directly behind to you.

A firm warm hand grasped your shoulder. His touch nearly cold compared to the searing heat broiling just below your brown skin. You glance long enough to meet the soft pleading expression that played across his features.

For a split second your confidence crumbled into conflicted confusion. The hurt just below the surface peeking through. A lapse in your molten fury that was cold and vulnerable revealed itself to his piercing deep brown eyes.

“Y/n. Don't.” He warned gently. A simple request to leave that night where it was.

To leave that night at Shady Palms a memory. A memory swallowed in secrets. Secrets that didn't belong to either of you. You both just witnesses to one of the many lies that litter this town. A lie on the Northside two serpents were never supposed to see.

…

“How about we grab some snacks then we can try that corkscrew thing I was telling you about.” You giggle pulling Pea's blazer onto your shoulders as you both exited the motel room. Hiding away the lacey f/c bra from the outside world as you straighten your black pencil skirt and shuffle into your shoes.

The defined h/c curls that crowned your head and elegantly framed your face at the beginning of the evening were now ruffled and slightly frizzed. Strong thick fingers had worked themselves in and out and around them. Pretty much ruining the style.

Not that you could complain. His methods were proving to be quite satisfactory to say the least.

“Baby, if I knew all you needed to be absolute freak was a room at Shady Palms, I never would have waited for a special occasion to bring you here.” Pea laughed tucking his hands into his slack pockets not bothering to button the top half of his white dress shirt. He wore the red trail of hickies down his neck and chest with pride. His thick charcoal locks were smoothed back and out of eyes. Making those chocolate irises even more captivating.

Sweet Pea finally dawning something without leather or a snake on it.

You didn't look like serpents tonight.

You just looked like teens. Teens with trouble in your eyes and hope hidden behind every smile. You almost looked like you belonged on this side of town. Like maybe you crept from your bedrooms as your loving parents held each other in their own bed as the tikes slept soundly down the hall and your golden retriever curled up on the edge of your bed.

The only tell of Southside on you both was the serpent ink.

You shoved the giant teen and nearly tripped over your creme colored pumps.

“You still can't walk in those things?” Pea snickered offering his arm to steady you.

“I wear them to keep up with you. It's not my fault I've got to look like a giraffe to do that.” You grumbled while accepting his arm and tucking yourself into his side.

A smirk settled on his face genuinely happy to welcome your warm frame close to his own. You rest your head on his shoulder.

“A sexy ass giraffe.” Sweet Pea chuckled.

You couldn't help but laugh at him and how matter of factly he said it. A snort escaping your throat only made him laugh even harder.

“Right this way Mayor McCoy.” The hardy voice of Sheriff Keller rang out as he stepped into the hazy fluorescent light with a self assured grin on his face.

The laughter died in your throats. Your feet cement themselves to the ground. Pea slid his hand from his pocket and laced his fingers into yours. You pressed your palm flush against his.

A silent promise of loyalty.

Not matter what.

Mayor McCoy shook her head latching onto his arm.

“Oh come Tom, how many times do have to tell you. Call me Sierra.” She giggled tugging a puppy dog eyed Sheriff Keller into a room a few doors away from where you and Pea stood frozen. But not before she pulled Keller’s lips down to hers.

“Shit?!?” Pea muttered as you both stared transfixed on the Mayor and Sheriff tangled around each other.

Both watching as the door shut to the cheap room. Waiting for the click like it was permission to breath. With that the tension in the air fizzled.

“I really hope they don't need anything from the vending machine.” You snickered awkwardly looking up at Pea doing your best to resurrect the bubbly energy of before.

Sweet Pea took the bait as he pressed a kiss onto the back of your palm and wrapped his arm around your soft hips.

“I don't think Skittles come in a self righteous flavor yet so we're safe.”

Your steps retake the aimless trot to the machine glittering in the moonlight at the corner. Little jokes tumble back and forth from your lips to his. Leaving whatever those two were doing in that room. Leaving the illusion of the North side intact.

Here was so Safe. And so Honest. And so Pure.

...

You snatch yourself free from his grip pressing the overflowing emotions back down in their bottle.

“Are all you northsiders that dense? It seems that our beloved Mayor McCoy is busying putting in overtime screwing-”

“Oh Fuck You, Trailer Trash!” Josie screamed pushing you square in the chest ruffling the grey tee with sleeves cuffed and blood red script reading Try Me Bitch.

You stumble back.

Ooos ripple from the surrounding crowd.

“Take it back, Pussybrat!” You demand stepping up to her.

“Why should I! Hey maybe you tell your parents to pay their damn rent and they wouldn't have these problems when someone actually does what their job.” The mob continued to instigate.

Your chest tightened. The rapid drumming of your own heartbeat filled your ears.

“You'll be lucky if you can stand after saying that shit to me!” You snarled her sweater dress filling your fist and drawing back with the other.

No hesitation.

You swung full force only for your body to be snatched backwards and slung into the air and finally over an impossibly broad shoulder.

“What the hell!”You bark trying to shake yourself free from the constrictor grip Sweet Pea had on your hips.

His signature scent of cheap cologne and wildflowers gave him away immediately.

“Josie you okay?” Pea mused ignoring your protests as he helped her to her feet.

“She sure as hell won't be if your let me finish what I started. Put me the fuck down!” You growl slamming your fists into his back over and over again.

“She's sorry too.” Sweet Pea shrugged making no indication he even felt your hits.

Josie just nodded waving him off as she straightened her mustard mini dress with off the shoulder puffed sleeves.

A steady ache in your fists made that clear he was unphased so you stopped.

“You can bet your pretty ass I'm not.” You spat wiggling in Pea's firm grasp.

He kissed his teeth and turned away from her as the crowd parted letting him through. No one was willing to chance the absolutely definite asskicking they'd get if they didn't step out of his way.

Your curses circled the hallways as he rounded the corner. It wasn't until he stepped inside the empty gymnasium did he place you on the ground.

“You crossed a line back there.” Sweet Pea scolded staring down at you in utter disbelief.

“No Pea I didn't you made sure of that!” You huffed crossing your arms glaring back at those disappointed dark eyes.

Don't gimme that look.

“You know what I'm talking about! Shit,Y/n! We made a promise not to say a word. That was not your shit to unpack!”

“Someone had to pop the wannabe teen idol's bubble! She was gonna find out eventually!”

“You didn't do that for her! That's not why you said that shit! You had half school watching! THAT IS NOT HOW YOU HAN-”

“I HAD THAT SHIT HANDLED, PEA!”

“LIKE HELL YOU DID, L/N!” Sweet Pea shouted throwing his hands in the air. His own temper flaring which only fueled yours. Sweet Pea cut his eyes away from you.

“YOU HEARD THAT COCKY LITTLE BITCH, PEA! YOU HEARD HER CALL ME TRAILER TRASH! SWEETS, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE ON MY SIDE!! AM I THE ONLY ONE THAT CARES THAT THE NORTHSIDE IS TRYING TO SNUFF US OUT!” You raged eyes wild as you press your curls away from your face and those e/c eyes of yours settle on the ground. The shame of it all beginning to set in.

“I heard it and any other day I would have chewed that brat out, but I'm not standing by so you can total McCoy's ass and get suspended. Babe who else's side could I be on? Why do think I tossed your crazy ass over my shoulder? You've got to chill you're starting to sound like Jones.”He snickered rolling his eyes doing his very best to lighten your mood.

But the tension pressed into your features didn't clear.

“SWEETS I'M SERIOUS! IT'S LIKE THEY'RE TRYING TO ERASE THE SOUTHSIDE! FIRST OUR SCHOOL! THEN OUR JACKETS! THEN OUR CLOTHES! AND NOW OUR HOMES! THEY'RE TAKING EVERY PIECE OF THE SOUTHSIDE FROM US! Before we know it ...they'll be...nothing left.” You fumed stepping toward him and taking his hand in yours halfway expecting him to pull away.

He didn't.

Instead he curls his warm fingers around yours without hesitation. Perfectly surrounding your hand so naturally as if his were made to intertwined with yours.

“Gonna take a wild guess this doesn't have shit to do with Josie.”

Your words stick to the mucus that starts to coat your throat. Eyes glassy now, you just nod as you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

He always could read you like an open book. Hell most people could but he was good at it. All the hidden meaning and subtext were child's play for him. He just knew you.

Pea's your even match. He always made you feel safe and like nothing could get to you. Like the world just couldn't knock you down. Like as long as you had each other there wasn't anything that could tear you two apart. That you didn't have to cry if you didn't want to.

But not now…

Everything just kept crumbling. The hot tears you'd been sealing away since you tore that eviction notice from your door stung at the corners of eyes.

“Aye Y/n, we're fine. We're gonna make it Serpents always do.” He whispered confidently pulling you into him and your head to his chest gently stroking h/c curls away from your face.

“Sweets, I'm sorry. Just sorry. So fucking sorry.” You muttered wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. Trying pull him as close to you as possible. Anchoring yourself in his frame. Hoping to hide every fallen tear in the fabric of his black shirt. Teeth tearing into your bottom lip as you beg yourself to be strong.

"No you're not Baby. What did you do? Why are you apologizing?” He hummed trying his best to just hold you. Hold onto your trembling form while you unraveled in his arms. Wrapping himself around your broken parts so he could brace your fall.

Vulnerably for you was the hardest. You hated to let him see you break down and hurt and cry. Giving him part of the weight of the pain you carried always gave you pause.

Could he still love me when I break.

Could he still love me when I fall apart in front of him.

You had a tendency to hold it all in usually until it all came pouring out. Sweet Pea gently rubbed circles into your back and tangled his fingers into your soft h/c curls.

And waited.

“Yes I am. I'm so sc…so scared. Sweets, I'm sorry because I'm scared. I've been so scared for days. I haven't been sleeping. Barely eating. I don't have anywhere else. Sunnyside is all I've got. I can't go anywhere else. Aren't you scared, Pea? I'm terrified. I haven't been this scared in a long time. I was trying to be brave. I wanted to be brave for you, for Cass, for the serpents, for everyone , but… I just can't. What are we gonna do?! Fuck I can't be some foster kid! What if they take me from all of this. All I've ever known! What if they take me away from the serpents! What about Cass? What about Fangs?! What about Toni?! What about Jug and FP?! What about you Sweets?! I Can't Lose Everything Again! I Can't Lose You! Fuck Keller! Fuck the Mayor! Fuck My Folks…fuck them…they.” Your voice hitched in your throat. You couldn't bring your lips to form those words.

You trembled steadily.

...

The morning after your older sister's graduation. The stillness of the small metal house.

The quietness.

Completely uncanny. No fussing baby brothers woke you that morning. No 4 year old sister to throw a fit as you move her toys from the middle of the hallway floor. No smell of burning bacon and oatmeal filled the air. The loud curses traded between your mom and her boyfriend never came.

The tidiness. Like it had been professionally cleaned. Just an empty trailer and 10 year old.

A freshly sober big sister sat on the rickety sofa with an unopened beer next to a crumpled sheet of notebook paper. Her diploma tossed on the far side of the room. She just stared at the place where the tv should have been. Your little fingers unraveled the wad of notebook paper only to find a half assed letter.

Princess,

I'm done waiting for him. We're Leaving. Cass will take care of you.

Good Luck, Sweetheart.

scribbled in your mom's handwriting smeared with her signature peachy pink lipstick. Just below that a dingy 20 was taped to the page. Hot tears barreled down your cheeks as Cass stood snatching the beer from the table.

You latch yourself to her wrist. Pleas for her to stay rip from your lips. Snot trailing down your face as she freed herself from your grip.

“Screw them! Princess my ass! What the hell does she think a 20 is gonna do for the rest of your life!” She hissed slamming the trailer door.

The motorcycle revving and spraying the loose gravel by the trailer as she sped off out of the Sunnyside. You sat sticky faced with your knees tucked to your chest on the steps and prayed that someone would come back home.

...

“You don't have to say it. Baby, I know. Trust me I know.” Sweet Pea breathed unevenly as he squeezed you gently. He held the same tension in his shoulders as you.

The last couple days Sweets had been busy doing jobs for the Serpents. Pulling gigs well into the night. A welcomed distraction from the mass eviction of Sunnyside Trailer Park.

His home and the home of over half the Serpents.

His family.

Everything was falling apart.

The look of ruin that flashed across his aunt's face only to be replaced with solemn hopelessness sent chills down his spine.

Everything you both had ever known was teetering by a thread and you had been trying to shoulder it all by yourself.

You had hidden your terror in texts and in silly jokes and songs when he called. Assuring him that the Northside couldn't phase you. No matter what.

You lied and he believed.

Moments like these made it painfully clear in the grand scheme of this war between North and South you were still children who knew too little and whose voices didn't matter enough.

The silence was almost suffocating.

“Baby, you don't have to apologize,”He paused to cup your face in hands just to be sure your eyes met his, “We're all pretty damn scared. I've had knots in my stomach for days. I thought it be easier to ignore this bullshit. Wait for it to blow over, but only seems grow. Shit's hit the fan. Every time the Southside makes a statement it's punished. Drowned out like we don't deserve this town. Like we couldn't possibly know what this town does in the dark. The crime. The murder. The theft. The drugs. Hell even the psychos. Somehow are all thought to be spawns of serpents. Like all the demons of this town must be ours. But if their honest with themselves every monster that haunts this hell hole is of their own making. Lies are the only thing holding everything together. But we won't roll over and die. They can't tear us apart. Or scare us into submission.” He spilled out as if he'd been holding his breath. Pea bit his lip as a tear or two dribbled down his cheeks. His deep brown eyes holding such a courageous fear.

Like he was too afraid not to be brave. He had somehow managed to push all his fears and his worries into unadulterated boldness.

“Pea look at us we're a mess. Cryin and shit.” You smiled brushing a tear from his cheek.

“Baby, I'm not afraid of what I feel. You shouldn't be either.” He teased pressing a chaste kiss on your lips which was probably salty and snotty and gross. He made no indication he cared. He just returned your weak smile.

“I'm trying. It's just hard you know.” You mumbled placing your forehead against his chest.

“I know. I know. You did pretty good.”

“Really?”

“Really, Y/n. Just don't attack anymore cheerleaders. I think they put people off the squad for that shit.” He chuckled lifting your chin and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I owe her an apology, don't I?” You wince rolling your puffy e/c eyes and taking his hand. Sweet Pea shrugged.

“You told like half school about her mom's affair so probably.” He nodded following you to the doors to the hallway.

Before you could reach them; the gymnasium doors swung open to reveal a very worried Fangs, Jughead, and Toni.

Your faces still wet and tear streaked. Especially yours.

“So this where you love birds ran off to.” Jughead snarked the worry peeling off his face.

Fangs without hesitation pulled you away from Sweet Pea and into a bear hug.

“Oh Y/n,” He cooed then held you by the shoulders scolding you, “What hell is wrong with you?!? Picking fights with the mayor's daughter?!? You wanna get rounded up all over again?!”

Sweet Pea snickered at the over affectionate serpent, but he still shifted to catch your expression to be sure Fangs wasn't upsetting you all over again.

“Sorry Fangs.” You smirked sheepishly.

Fangs nodded and pulled you in for another hug before letting you go. Toni shoving him eagerly aside.

“Outta my way, Mama Bear.” Toni said meeting your eyes with a burning ferociousity.

Toni's fairy-like stature was entirely inconsequential when she hit you with a face like that. Just a reminder she was very capable of kicking the ass of anyone in the room.

She traded death glares between you and Sweet Pea.

“Toni, I kno-” You cleared your thought to offer an apology, but she cut off with a hand.

“That was really stupid and-”

“And I shouldn't have done that.” You sighed hanging your head. Your temper had put Sweet Pea's shame.

“AND really bad ass!” She smiled punching you in the arm and then hugging you.

“Get over here Pea. Thanks for snatching up this crazy bitch.”

“Somebody had to.”The larger serpent just cheesed motioning for the other boys to join the hug.

The ring of bell brought the full house moment to the end. The five of you headed out attempting to pretend nothing had happened and get to 2nd period on time.

Taglist:@sweetwatersnake @nongmac001 @wayward-river @baileyboo22

#sweet pea #poc reader #poc representation #riverdale sweet pea #sweet pea x reader #josie mccoy #fangs fogarty #toni topaz #jughead jones #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea headcanon

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