Found Pt. 4 | Poly!141 & Reader
Summary: You, Simon, and Price go shopping, while the two work out their problems, and you get new clothes and delicious Thai chicken.
Word Count: ~3.2k
Warnings: arguing, yelling, cursing, but it gets resolved, cuddles
A/N: reader is starting to come out of her shell a bit, which will certainly make things more interesting…hope you enjoy<3
Requests are open!
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Johnny hadn’t come out to the Jeep yet, and for the past five minutes Simon had been about to drive away, one hand on the wheel, index finger tapping away impatiently as he scowled in the direction of the house. They both seemed almost attached at the hip more often than not. You wondered what was holding the werewolf up.
The front door swung open, but instead of Johnny and his ever-wagging tail coming out, it was Price who lumbered out. The little brown fuzzy’s barely visible on his head, which you assumed were ears, twitched as he approached the car, opened the passenger door, and hauled his body in.
The car shook ever so slightly when he pulled the door shut, slamming it loudly in a gesture that made you jump a bit.
“Where’s Johnny?”
Simon asked, his tone calm but the hint of annoyance creeping in. He raised a brow at Price, who huffed with a hint of a growl that had the hair on the back of your neck standing up.
“Said I’m gonna pull my back out choppin’ wood, told me to come with you.”
John sounded more than annoyed, huffing, his sentence trailing off with his voice growing a bit more than brusque as usual, Simon sighing out through his nostrils.
“Not like he’s wrong.”
He mumbled, putting the keys in, turning them, and starting the ignition, before Price growled deep and low. Your breath caught in your throat, muscles tensing as you scooted more away from the middle of the backseat to the right side, body curling up as you tried to focus on the moving scenery outside the tinted window, the car pulling out of the driveway and bumbling along the bumpy roads. Trees blurred into brown and orange masses as Simon sped up a bit, his and John’s conversation speeding up as well.
“Leave it, Price.”
If you were a hybrid, you might’ve been able to smell the souring of John’s scent or the hint of bitter anger that tinted it.
“You’re hardly younger than me, but those muppets don’t blink twice when you’re doing work, do they?”
A pause from Simon.
“It’s..different, Price. We’re different.”
“Yeah, how’re we different? You saying you’re better than me.”
The atmosphere thickened. You didn’t like how angry he sounded, how Simon’s knuckles were white around the wheel, how John was bordering on a growl every word. He seemed pent up. Angry about more than just what had happened today, as if this had been building for a while, longer than you’d been around to see.
Simon didn’t deny it.
“You muppets, always thinkin’ I’m getting too old for this, well I’m not. I’m not too fuckin’ old to chop wood—“
He snarled out, and your hands went to cover your ears, tears pricking your eyes. You didn’t like angry, cussing men. They brought back bad memories, things you didn’t want to think about again, not right now, if ever. Your knees curled up into your chest, and your blurry vision focused on the window.
The trees had turned into walls of rock, with a few darker spots where water was steadily dripping down, and grass crusted over with frost. The little trees that were on the top had lost all of their leaves by now, the cold chill getting to them.
It was cold in the car, too.
They didn’t have the AC on, which made sense, considering the amount of hair on John meant he didn't need much heat, and Simon’s large body produced enough on its own. Or at least you assumed.
Their argument grew a bit more heated, a few words slipping into your ears despite the hands covering them until they were both yelling at each other, and you couldn’t take it anymore.
“Stop it!”
You finally yelled, hands still covering your ears, eyes fearful and scared. John’s mouth was still open from something he’d been about to say before they both turned to glance at you and knew they’d fucked up.
Simon took one look at you through the rearview mirror and internally winced. You witnessed the entire thing, an argument that he and John had been having for years now. The old man was too stubborn to let anyone else try and take care of him, shouldering more and more, trying to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, and getting angry when anyone tried to help him if he stumbled.
John’s anger was gone in a second, replaced with the full internal instinct to fix. His cub was upset because of him. It was his fault. He had to fix it.
Your body language alone was screaming “stay away from me, I will bite your hand off”, as was your scent, but he couldn’t just let you sit all terrified in the backseat, so he tried to calm you down just a bit.
“‘M sorry, cub. Didn’t mean to scare you,”
His voice turned from angry to soft and cooing so quickly it almost gave you whiplash, but it still worked a bit on softening the anxiety churning in your gut. Not enough for you to accept the large hand he was offering, though.
Simon looked at the rearview mirror once again, both behind the car, and then at you once more, and was hit with a sudden realization.
You were afraid, fearful, but he didn’t see any hint of surprise in your expression. You’d been in foster care so long, you’d probably seen all sorts of relationships, maybe even experienced a few, if your earlier request to visit a ‘friend’ was anything to go off of, but you probably hadn’t seen what a healthy relationship was before.
And what he and John had just showed you? That wasn’t healthy, not at all.
So he tried to think of what Gaz would do, ever the virtuous young man, always trying to mend relationships and crossing bridges before burning them completely. He’d seen it just a day ago between him and Soap. Kyle was always thinking about what the other person was thinking and feeling, what they might be going through, putting himself in someone else’s shoes.
Simon might’ve not been the best with emotions, but he could recognize the signs of a minor breakdown. Price hadn’t slept well much this week, before you’d come he’d been worried about getting the room done on time, and since then he’d been worried about you getting comfortable. His short temper made sense. And with such a small, new kid in their home, slowly becoming a member of the pack, it made sense for his protective instincts to be on overdrive, making him shoulder more responsibilities as the leader of the pack.
In fact, he hadn’t seen John this worked up in years, not even with their past fosters.
Simon could have some empathy for the man, and after growing up through his childhood with no good father figure, only his dad abusing his mother and being drunk all the time. You deserved better than what he’d had to see and much better than what he and Price were showing you.
“John.”
He interrupted the man’s cooed words, and John at the lack of nickname and the sheer tone that Simon was using. It wasn’t an unkind tone, it was soft and quiet, much less intimidating than the usual monotone and bland voice he adorned.
It caught your attention too, he could tell. His eyes remained on the road, but he could scent the subtle shift in your emotions, from the fear and worry, a bitter scent, to the shift to a calmer, softer scent. Almost like freshly done laundry, and how soft and warm it is coming out of the dryer.
“Yes?”
He was trying to stay angry, Simon could tell, but it wasn’t working.
Simon took a deep breath, trying to push down the embarrassment he already felt for what he was about to say. It felt strange to acknowledge emotions so clearly, but it was necessary, and if he had to push himself out of his comfort zone to make you comfortable, he would. He’d done better for worse people.
“I...understand that you’re stressed, and feel like we’re undermining you, but we’re just worried that you’re pushing yourself too hard, and not trusting us enough to let us help you. It’s not that any of us are better than you, we just don’t want you taking everything on your shoulders.”
He heaved a shaky breath out, eyes on the road as he pulled into the parking lot of the mall, eyes scanning for a parking spot that wasn’t taken up.
“I’m sorry,”
John finally spoke up, voice rough, but not with anger, only thick with emotion.
“I’ve just been stressed, and trying to keep myself busy. I didn’t mean to…”
His sentence trailed off as he leaned into Simon, and Simon leaned his head against him as he finally found a spot, and pulled into it.
As you sat in the back, watching, John finally pulled away from Simon a minute later, giving a little apologetic smile to you as he opened his door, moving to open yours.
“Sorry for scaring ya, cub. Let’s make it up and go get some clothes, yeah?
He offered a hand, and you found that you took it, despite having to lift your arm a bit for your hand to meet his large, calloused one. He was warm.
Simon came around after you heard him pull the keys out, lock the car, and shut his door. He took your other hand, leaving you sandwiched between the two giant men as you all approached the entrance to the mall, which was a lot of sliding glass doors marked with “Exit” and “Entrance”.
As soon as you entered, your senses were assaulted with the smells and musks of other people and perfume, not to mention delicious food and drinks, as well as bright lights from stores and flashing lights from stands selling kids’ toys. It was loud, people talking unabashedly on the phone, to their friends as they laughed and tripped over their own feet, or to their partners as they walked hand in hand. A few other children your age were there, but no humans.
It didn’t necessarily surprise you.
Simon noticed how overwhelmed you were, and he couldn’t say that he hadn’t expected it. Malls were large spaces packed full of people looking to sell things, and others rushing to buy things. Especially with how most people tended to easily be taller than you, or tower over you, he could imagine you’d be easily intimidated by that, let alone all the options of where to go.
Giving your hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze, he spoke.
“We can get clothes first, then decide from there.”
John met his eye, and nodded, silently agreeing with him. You mumbled a little “okay”, before being led along by the both of them to a nearby area in the mall that was a large clothing store, one of the bigger shopping areas than the hallways full of different, smaller stores.
“Let’s focus on winter clothes first, so jackets, scarves, gloves, pants, those sorts of things. Then we can move on to lighter wear.”
You all navigated the store, meandering around before John spotted the “Children’s clothing” sign, and you finally found the girl’s section. From there, you had to narrow that down to the human section among all sorts of hybrids.
That was the one thing you didn’t envy about hybrids, was how hard it must be to find clothing that properly fit their various parts like wings, tails, etc. There was a reason that seamstresses and embroiderers had become much more popular after hybrids really began rapidly spreading and taking over the population. The business was booming.
“What about this one?”
John asked, gesturing to a striped sweater. You could tell from a few glances that the quality wasn’t the greatest, and that it wasn’t made of real wool or fiber, probably just the type of polyester that rubbed against your skin badly. You reached a hand out, disconnecting from Simon, and rubbing against the fabric only to confirm your assumption. You shook your head.
“Itchy.”
You said simply. They tried pointing out clothes and jackets you might like to no avail, probably not understanding the concept of needing fabric to stay warm, considering most hybrids had fur to keep them warm, if not their bodies practically being furnaces.
Finally, you found the absolute perfect jacket. A hoodie that wasn’t tight around the bottom, but baggy enough to where it went down to your mid-thigh, the sleeves weren’t tight, and the hood was loose and wasn’t so heavy that it weighed the hoodie down or strangled you. The inside felt like a cloud, and it was stretchy but also firm enough to keep heat insulated.
When you finally stopped feening over the hoodie, you flipped the price tag over and winced, putting it back. It might’ve been perfect, but it was a ridiculous amount of money for a hoodie. Too much money for a hoodie.
Simon and Price exchanged a look behind your back as you went on to find other clothes, returning twenty minutes later with, as John requested, a scarf, gloves, some sweatpants, and socks. Simon scoped it all out of your arms and put it in their cart, following behind as John began looking for the clothes for lighter seasons, finding it and letting you choose your pick.
Having spent almost two hours in the one place by now, with you trying on various clothes, John said he wanted to make sure they fit right before buying them, and your mild indecisiveness as well. When it was all said and done, you had plenty of clothes for outfits throughout the year, and they checked out.
It was only after everything had been checked out that you saw it.
The hoodie.
Simon held it carefully, scanning it, before ripping the tag off with ease and handing it to you. You opened your mouth in protest at first, a bit embarrassed, but decided against saying anything as you slid it on. It fit perfectly.
It wouldn’t be very easy for either of them to hold the bags and your hand at the same time, so Simon leaned down, getting on one knee, and gesturing to his shoulders, gently picked you up by the armpit, and lifted you until you were sitting on his shoulders.
You blinked in surprise for a moment or two, but eventually, the shock wore off. The internal cringing after seeing a couple go “awwww” at the sight of you, or a group of women giggling to themselves, seeing Simon carrying you, didn’t though.
John noticed, a little smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t mind anyone noticing what good parents they were to the newest member of their pack, it actually made his chest swell with pride.
“You hungry?”
Simon asked, tilting his head a bit to the side to catch a glimpse of you, just so he knew you had heard him. You gave a little nod, being absolutely starving by now, and he chuckled.
“Me too, kid. Let’s see how much we can convince Price to spend on food.”
You’d both convinced him to spend quite a lot on food, apparently, as you both sat down, eating Thai chicken that tasted scrumptious. You devoured it, eating faster than even Simon, and Price was steadily laughing as he watched you somehow shove more food down your throat.
“Save some for the rest of us,”
Price chuckled, watching as you swallowed more chicken, looking up at him with a look more feral than any hybrid he’d seen, before pouting in what he assumed was a joking way.
“I’m just a girl.”
You said, and Simon’s deep, raspy laughs started up at that. He apparently found it funny. You continued devouring your food, filling your stomach until you were all full, something you weren’t used to from your past foster parents.
Price was enjoying his food as well as you all sat at the Food Court, in a little booth table. The lady working the shop had given extra-large servings after taking one look at Simon and Price, knowing big men like them would need plenty of food. She probably hadn’t known how starved you’d been, and by now, you were too hungry to care about eating nicely in front of them.
There was sauce on your lips and your fingers, but you didn’t care, Price wiping some from his beard, Simon using a napkin to wipe some of it from his mouth, before folding that napkin over, and wiping it off your face. You looked at him, a smile tugging at your lips. He tried to conceal his smirk but failed as you burst into giggles. Price laughed again.
After finally finishing off all of the chicken, both you and Simon were in a food coma by now, Price had to drag both of you out of the mall and into the car, climbing into the driver’s seat. You and Simon lagged behind a little bit, before you broke out into a run to the car, yelling a message for Simon.
“I call shotgun!”
“You can’t just—“
He sputtered, racing after you, but too late as you yanked the passenger door open, collapsing into the seat as you shut the door and locked it manually. He raised a brow, but you buckled up, securing your seat with a badly suppressed smile.
He opened the back door, climbed in, and stretched out on all three of the seats in the back, yawning as he didn’t even bother to buckle up.
You and John both looked back at him, you giggling quietly as Simon’s lips twitched, John just shaking his head in fond exasperation.
The drive home was quiet, other than the low-volume music playing in the background as you curled up in the large seat, watching the window, eyelids heavy, but you resisted the siren's call of sleep for most of the car ride, other than a little five-minute nap, or maybe a little bit longer than five minutes.
Or maybe you fell asleep almost the entire car ride, only waking up when you heard Johnny’s excited voice, followed by hushing, and you shifted around, only to find yourself cradled in John’s arms.
“Quiet, she’s sleeping.”
Kyle murmured, and Johnny whined, the sound almost piercing to your ears.
“No, she ain’t—“
And then you slowly blinked awake, finding yourself being shifted from John’s arms to Johnny’s, warm muscle gently caging you in as soft fur rubbed gently against your skin, tickling a bit. His chest rumbled with a deep purr, one that even had you melting further into him, despite not being the same species. It somehow still affected you.
You heard his heavy footsteps thud down the hall, until your bedroom door creaked open, and the soft blankets in your bed surrounded you now instead of him.
You shifted around a bit, finding a comfortable angle and spot, listening to his quiet breathing and loud purring as he kissed you on the forehead, murmuring something so low that you couldn’t hear it, before leaving the room, leaving you to fall asleep.
Tags:
@theartgremlin
@roastyyytoastyyy
@simonrileysown
@thriving-n-jiving
@angeldemon28
@purple-moonbeam
@d-oo-t
@epochal-oracle
@picklehat3r
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