#i actually got this exact prompt twice so i'm gonna have to think of another fill for it too

[msmargaretmurry]

18 matthew/leon

18 - things you said when you were scared

(cw for being outed)

In the video, Matthew is instantly recognizable: his curls, wild and golden in the sunshine; his dimpled grin; that stupid Elbo Room t-shirt. His companion is less recognizable, all swim trunks and thick muscle, dark wet hair slicked back from the pool. Over the course of the nine-second clip, Matthew, in the video, tugs this man in and kisses him briefly, then pulls back to say something, then laughs as he’s kissed by the man, longer and more thoroughly. The man has a great ass, and Matthew’s hands find it eagerly as they shift out of view. The cameraperson tries for a moment to find a new angle that works through the foliage and fencing, then gives up. That’s it.

Apparently the Bahamas aren’t far enough to go for some privacy.

While Matthew paces in the bedroom of their rented condo with what seems like his entire family including his uncle-agent on speakerphone, Leon sinks as deep into the couch as is humanly possible, watching the video on repeat in the Tweet that gave it to the world. Leon knows the exact moment it was taken, because it was only yesterday. It would be a hot video if it weren’t so horrifying. They look good together. Matthew looks so happy.

It should be more of a relief that the video doesn’t include a good shot of his face. Instead Leon just feels guilty that Matthew’s the only one getting blown up about it. Feels anxious, waiting for someone to figure it out. Feels nauseous, waiting for what Matthew will say when he emerges from his conference call. Most of what Leon gets through the door is Matthew’s side of the conversation — “I don’t know, I don’t know,” he keeps saying, his voice pitched high, tight with stress. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he keeps saying. “That part doesn’t matter,” a bunch of times in a row, then in an exasperated burst: “That’s none of your business. That’s nobody’s business.”

Leon has no idea who Matthew told his family he was going on vacation with. He just knows it wasn’t him. That’s fine. That’s how it’s supposed to be. 

After an eternity, the bedroom door flies open and Matthew stomps into the main room to start furiously gathering his things.

“I’m going home,” he bites out. 

Leon sits up so quickly his head spins a little. “Sorry, what?”

Matthew doesn’t even pause. He grabs his hoodie from the back of the sofa, his flip-flops from by the door. “There’s a flight tonight, I can make it if I pack fast.”

“”You’re leaving.”

“Um, obviously. My mom’s upset, my dad’s confused, we need to figure out what to do next—”

“Okay, yeah, but what about me?”

Matthew finally whirls to look at him. “What about you?”

It’s like a slap in the face.

“Wow,” says Leon. “Fuck you, too, I guess.”

Matthew deflates. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, and rubs a hand over his face, through his hair. “Fuck.”

“No, it’s fine, I get it.” And he does get it, really. Matthew’s life just got rocked, not Leon’s. And it’s not like this is serious, between them. If it was serious, Matthew’s parents wouldn’t be asking who the guy in the video is. Leon’s parents would know where he is right now. When they’d made the plans, Matthew had laughed and said, a lot of effort just to fuck. Leon had grinned and said, yeah, but I’ll make it worth your while.

Leon rocks to his feet and heads for the bedroom. He might as well start packing.

“Leon—” Matthew says, following after him. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t have time to have this fight right now.”

“We’re not fighting,” Leon says. “You’re leaving, so there’s no point in me staying, so I’m leaving, too.”

“Fuck you,” says Matthew. “You don’t get to be pissed at me right now.”

He’s right. And Leon’s not pissed, not really. Not at Matthew. At whoever did this. A couple of barely-famous hockey players aren’t the kind of people this shit is supposed to happen to. Barely even barely famous. Matthew was right on the phone with his family — it’s not anyone’s business.

“You’re right,” Leon says with a sigh. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Come here.”

Matthew is tense all over, but he lets Leon fold him into a hug. Leon rubs his back, kisses the side of his head, tries not to wonder if this is the last time they’ll ever do this.

“Sorry,” Leon says again.

Matthew exhales wetly against his neck. “I have to leave. I can’t be here. You know I hate people getting in my business. I can’t—”

“I know, I know, I know,” Leon says. He hugs Matthew tighter as his stomach ties itself in knots. 

“I’ll figure out what to tell people,” Matthew mumbles, his fingers curling into Leon’s shirt. “I can just say it was some guy I met here — maybe I wanted a vacation alone or something, I don’t know— I mean, my parents will hate that, they want me to have a secret nice boyfriend or something so we can trot him out and be like, look, still totally wholesome, nothing to see here—”

“Okay,” Leon says.

There’s a beat, and then Matthew pulls back to look at him with a frown. “Okay what?”

“I just mean, if it’s easier that way.” Leon’s brain catches up with what’s coming out of his mouth, and his cheeks are suddenly hot. “I mean. If you need me to be a boyfriend. If that would help. I can do that.”

Matthew stares. “I don’t— I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Did you ask?” Leon says. “No. I’m just saying. If you want.”

It’s probably a very stupid offer. The kind of offer that could blow up Leon’s life in ways he’s only ever thought about as vague, distant what-ifs. The kind of offer you’re supposed to offer only if it’s serious. Definitely the kind of offer he should think about for more than five seconds, but none of that seems particularly important right now.

Matthew sags into the hug again, holding on even tighter than before. Leon squeezes him, kisses his hair, breathes in the smell of the ocean.

“At the very least let me help you pack,” he murmurs. Matthew lets out a long, shaky breath, his fingers digging into Leon’s back.

“Maybe I can fly out in the morning instead.”

[amatchinwater]

So, hey. 👀 I have a prompt. 👀 Actually, I have two, and I hope it's okay I'll send them in one 🥰

"“i’ll kiss you right now to prove i don’t feel anything for you” but the kiss proves the exact opposite"" for Stisaac

"i’m watching you date all these other people and i don't know what it is i'm feeling but it's definitely not jealousy" for Steo (preferably with jealous Theo because I love jealous Theo 😍 But you don't have to. I'm gonna love it either way. 🥰 )

Gods, I don't even want to think about how old this ask is 🤦‍♀️ but I finally got the second one done!! Thank you, babes 💚💚

Pairing: Steo

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken Mason Hewitt, Tracy Stewart, Corey Bryant, unnamed OG male character,

Warnings: drinking, rejection, mentions of past Sterek, Stiles thinks he can drink and fuck the breakup pain away, irritated Theo, jealous Theo

Words: 3033

Prompt: jealousy prompt in ask, thanks again, Laura 💚

Ao3 link Masterlist

---

Do you know what it feels like to have happiness? True happiness. Only to have it yanked away from you with no hope of stopping it?

Stiles does.

Twice in his life, aside from his mother’s death, has it happened. Once in the form of his childhood best friend and schoolyard crush Theo moving away shortly after a death in both of their families. Right when they probably needed each other the most. The second, and arguably the worst, was Derek Hale breaking up with him and also leaving town…and the country. 

At least Theo kept in touch, Derek cut him off cold turkey. 

It hurt like a mother fucker.

Even now with a healthy pack and a good life, six months later, Stiles still doesn’t feel quite whole. Like the wound is still fresh without an ounce of scar tissue in sight. 

“Are you coming tonight?” Tracy asks, flopping on the couch next to him and setting her feet in his lap. “Or are you finally staying home?” 

He doesn’t miss the suggestion in the kanima’s tone. That Stiles should stay home tonight. But the fox won’t. A fact they’re both more than aware of. 

Stiles will go to the club like every other time. Searching for someone with a hero complex insisting they can help him forget his ex. They mostly do. For the duration they’re in the fox’s bed at least. The moment the post-coital haze clears, Stiles is missing Derek all over again. Feeling guilty for what he’s done for the hundredth time. 

Because that’s the thing about rebounding with a bunch of strangers that no one tells you about. You’re still the same broken shell of a person afterwards. Nothing changes just because you had an orgasm. You’re still hurt. 

“Of course he’s going,” Theo huffs, all but stomping off the last step.

And he’s right. Even though Stiles knows it won’t make him feel better, he can’t stop.

“When are we leaving?” The fox asks, making Theo scoff. “What’s your problem?” He asks, rolling his eyes towards his Alpha.

“Nothing at all,” Theo mumbles in annoyance from the kitchen. “I’m staying home tonight, let me know when you guys are heading back,” the Alpha stalks back upstairs without another word.

Right. Okay, Stiles should probably back up a bit. He mentioned having a healthy pack now. With Derek gone, it’s obviously not the Hales. But Scott isn’t his Alpha either. When Theo came back to Beacon Hills at the beginning of their senior year, he and Stiles reconnected as if he’d never left. He was an Alpha and quickly built a pack of stray supernatural creatures both Scott and Stiles didn’t even know existed. 

Well, they knew about kanimas. But not raijus or that were-jaguars were a thing. Or that there were creatures that could turn invisible! Nor that kids they went to school with were supernatural and right under their noses. Granted, Stiles was a human at the time and literally never would’ve known. 

What bothered Scott the most is hard to say. Unclear to which straw finally broke the camel’s back. It’s always possible that it was just a culmination of everything that got to the True Alpha. In part, it definitely had to do with the fact that Theo wouldn’t relinquish his title as Alpha because Scott asked him to. And he shouldn’t have either, in Stiles’ opinion. The coyote got his power fair and square by his Alpha passing it on. 

Then it boiled down to how close he and Theo became.

They were best friends before Stiles even met Scott. Even over the years when they stayed in touch, there never felt like distance between them. There’s nothing that Theo doesn’t know about. No secrets. 

At first it started with Stiles already having plans with the coyote. But eventually it progressed to Stiles forgetting about pack nights because he was with Theo. And then the Alpha asked if he’d think about joining his pack since he sees Scott so little and seems happier with Theo.

Saying yes had never been so easy. 

He even accepted the bite.

Because Theo was absolutely right. After Allison, there was always an uncomfortable air around Scott and Stiles. On the surface, the fox was happier.

Not happy. But happier.

So off to Sinema he goes. Pack in tow save for their Alpha.

“What are the chances I can get you to be my wingman tonight?” Josh asks, looping an arm around the fox’s shoulder. “I need some of that luck you always seem to possess.”

Any other night, Stiles probably would’ve said yes. But for some reason Derek is at the forefront of his mind tonight. And there’s something clearly pissing Theo off. So for the sake of not thinking about either Alpha, the fox knocks back his fourth- fifth?- wolfsbane infused drink courtesy of Hayden.

Throwing a wink at the raiju, Stiles says, “watch and learn young padawan.” He can’t focus on fully helping Josh right now. But if he pays attention, it could work out for him.

It did with Corey and Mason.

Grated, Mason was so far gone on Corey, he didn’t really need to do much to get the human. 

Feeling that last cocktail settle in his blood, Stiles makes his way towards the dancefloor. It wasn’t until after Derek that the fox realized just how much he likes dancing. Or the fact that once he loosens up, Stiles is actually pretty good at it too. Moving through the sea of gyrating bodies, he finds himself a nice little space off the center.

That’s his trick. He’s close enough to the outside that someone sitting down can see him. But he’s also enough in the crowd that people on the dancefloor have eyes on him too. The more visible you are, the more chance you have of taking someone home. 

It takes no time at all for someone’s hands to find his waist. Stiles doesn’t even bother to push people away anymore. Company is his goal after all. So when the person pulls him close, grinding the fox against him, Stiles lifts his hands up, curling his fingers into their short strands. 

When the song changes, the body behind him makes no effort to move. So Stiles takes the initiative to turn around, see who’s interested. He’s surprised to find someone who looks like they could be Derek’s body double. It’s almost scary. But it deals the deal for the fox. Determination setting in to take this guy home. Maybe one last hook up, this time with Derek Lite, will be just what Stiles needs.

“Hey, handsome,” the fox lightly slurs over the music, “what are the chances I can get you to go home with me?”

Blunt and to the point.

Works every time.

The hands fall from his waist, the stranger’s face softening. “I’m sorry,” he leans in, not knowing that Stiles can hear him perfectly. “I was just looking for someone to dance with and you’re really good. You’re not my type, sorry.”

“Right. ‘Course, have a good night,” Stiles says, biting his remark away. The ‘you rub your boner on me but I’m not your type, huh?’ stings the back of his throat. The fox leaves the dance floor, making a beeline for the exit. 

That always works.

It didn’t work on Derek either.

Okay, that’s just fucking rude. The voice in his head has no right to say shit like that. Derek wasn’t some guy in a club. He was a good Alpha and brother who left town to protect his sister.

That doesn’t help it sting any less that an essential carbon copy of the Alpha rejected him.

The fresh air hits his face and all of the alcohol Stiles consumed makes itself known He’s not going to throw up, but he feels how much he had to drink. The fox doesn’t stop moving until he gets to the alley on the side of the club. Crouching down, Stiles puts his head in his hands.

He should be over this by now. Why the fuck does it still hurt so much? The fox’s eyes sting with tears. Drunk or not, he’s not going to fucking cry.

He won’t.

A hand rests on the fox’s shoulder, Josh’s scent filling his nostrils. It’s a comfort like no other. Stiles doesn’t know what he’d do without the raiju. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“He broke me,” Stiles snaps, looking up at his best friend with blurry eyes. “I’m broken, Josh,” the fox sobs, tears spilling down his cheeks. He said he wasn’t going to cry, dammit. But here he is, one simple question from the raiju- one he could’ve said no to- and Stiles’ drunken brain releases the floodgates. 

He feels pathetic.

“But you’re not,” Josh speaks softly.

“Yes, I am!” Stiles sniffles, angrily wiping his face dry. “I’m not his type,” the fox scoffs, “Derek left me.”

“Okay, well fuck both of them. They’re idiots if they can’t see how great you are.” Josh looks at him earnestly, “but I also don’t think sleeping with a bunch of nameless faces is going to make you feel better. Kinda seems like it’s been doing the opposite.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look,” the raiju sighs, “I’m not trying to piss you off or control you. I’m just trying to help you. It’s kind of my job.”

Josh is right. Stiles knows that. But how else is he supposed to get by? Who else is going to want someone as damaged as him?

“How about instead of hooking up with everyone you can,” Tracy rounds the corner of the building, “you take a look at what’s right in front of you.”

Stiles, rather drunk and confused, looks at his best friend who is indeed in front of him. 

“You mean Josh?” Don’t get him wrong, his best friend is rather easy on the eyes. But that’d be like dating his brother. No, thank you.

The raiju laughs.

“Oh my god,” Tracy groans, scrubbing her face in aggravation. “You are not that dumb or blind,” the kanima scoffs. Stiles gives her a blank stare and shrugs. “For the love of- Theo! He’s in love with you, you idiot!”

Stiles’ heart stops.

“Bullshit,” he snorts. “Theo doesn’t even look at me like that.” If he did, Stiles would’ve tried something with his childhood crush a long time ago. Theo’s hot and nice and actually cares about him. He gently hits Josh’s arm, “tell her to stop fucking with me.”

Josh pulls a face, lifting a shoulder, “she’s not.”

Stiles’ heart stops again.

Then he laughs. A full on giggle fit that doesn’t stop even when they get him in the car. Laughs as he explains his behavior to Mason and Corey. But when they pull into the driveway and they give him the same look Josh had, Stiles sobers up real quick.

They’re home.

And Theo’s inside.

Theo.

Who doesn’t like, but loves him. 

What’s breathing? Stiles has forgotten how to do it, but he’s pretty sure it’s something that’s supposed to be automatic, not a conscious choice of inhaling and exhaling.

“Uh, hey guys,” Mason’s voice echoes beside him in the back seat, poking his shoulder.

“What?” Josh asks, putting the car in park.

Tracy actually turns around, “oh shit.”

“What?” The raiju repeats, looking behind him, “shit. Stiles?”

The fox is frozen, staring at the house. Full of alcohol and nervous energy. “He’s going to think I’m a whore,” Stiles mutters, his brain running a stomach churning montage of all of the people he’s slept with. 

All the while Theo knew about and said nothing in the way of disapproval. Unless you count his attitude. 

Gods, Stiles feels like such an idiot.

The kanima cackles. Actually cackles, “oh, honey. If anything Theo is just jealous and upset you’ve never let him grace your bed.”

“Why do you think he was so upset tonight?” Mason asks, rubbing the back of the fox’s neck. Even as a human he understands how to calm them down.

That would explain the Alpha’s attitude, sure. But still, “Why did he never say anything?”

Everyone in the car gives him a shrug.

“Guess you’ll have to ask him yourself,” Corey says, leaning over Mason and Stiles to open the car door.

“What?” The fox looks back and forth and before he knows it, the couple shoves him out of the car. If not for his supernatural reflexes, Stiles would’ve eaten the concrete.

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Josh yells through Tracy’s open window.

What?

The car door slams closed, tires squealing in its haste to get out of the driveway before the fox can react.

“Dicks,” Stiles mumbles, turning and facing the house. 

His body really wants to go into flight mode. Guess it’s time to put his big boy pants on. His heart picks up, fingers shaking trying to use the key to unlock the front door, one thought nagging him.

Has he been hurting Theo this whole time?

“Dammit,” he squeezes his eyes closed, pushing open the door. The only sound inside the house is his Alpha’s heartbeat. Too quick to be sleeping. A page turns. “Theo,” Stiles calls out, closing and relocking the front door.

Please don’t ignore him.

Please.

There’s a pause followed by a sigh, “In my room.” 

His heart is thundering in his chest. Yes, the revelation from the pack sobered him up, but the fox isn’t sober. There’s still a buzz in his head and a slight wobble to his legs. Stiles very carefully walks up the stairs to the Alpha’s room. The one right next to his. At least their walls are soundproof, so unless a door is open, you can’t hear shit. 

Meaning Theo never had to hear Stiles with the people he brought home. 

The smallest of consolations because Theo still knew they were there.

When Stiles makes it to the Alpha’s room, Theo is propped against his headboard reading Catching Fire. No shirt on and gray joggers. He is a sight to see. Why the hell did Stiles never even flirt with the guy? He’s more than aware of how hot Theo is. Maybe the fox just didn’t want to ruin their friendship. Or step over any pack bounds. 

Excuses, honestly.

“Hey,” Stiles says a breath above a whisper. His tipsy brain says the best course of action is why not try for some flirtatious humor to break the tension? “You waitin’ up for me, handsome?” The fox leans against the doorframe with a grin.

“No one warming your bed tonight?” Theo asks in a sour tone. Not even bothering to look up from his book, simply turning the page. 

Alcohol takes control of Stiles’ tongue, “I was hoping you would.” 

It’s unmistakable. The rush of arousal coming off the coyote. His fingers twitch against his book. “So they told you.” But Theo still doesn’t look up.

“They might have informed me that I’m a moron,” Stiles says, stepping over the threshold. “That I had someone much better right here the whole time.”

That gets Theo’s attention. He looks up from his book, eyes flickering red for the smallest of seconds.

He’s getting to Theo.

“I don’t want your pity,” the Alpha closes his book. “You’re only here because it’s convenient. A fall back because no one came home with you.” Theo’s voice is full of something Stiles can’t quite place. Anger? Sadness? His words hurt just the way that Theo must hurt when he says, “You don’t actually want me.”

The fox snorts, filter nonexistent, “Are you jealous that people come home with me?”

Theo tosses his book on the nightstand, getting up from his bed. The fox is ready to drool. All he needs is to get his hands on the coyote. But Theo stays just a step away, “I’m watching you fuck all of these other people and I don’t know what it is I’m feeling,” Theo’s heart skips. “But it’s not jealousy.”

“Liar,” Stiles says confidently. Never once feeling so bold and so fucking nervous at the same time.

The Alpha scoffs, giving him a tongue in cheek smile. When their eyes meet, Theo crosses his arms to his chest, stepping closer, “I’m not lying, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Stiles’ mouth dries out. Throat clicking when he swallows. Does the Alpha realize how he looks and sounds? He is growing determined to get Theo to crack. He’s putting on a face so that Stiles won’t know he’s getting to him.

As if he can’t smell it.

Unless Theo’s trying to be done.

The fox gets an idea. He nearly purrs at the thought. If Theo wants to drop it, he’ll let him. But if he doesn’t…

“Okay,” Stiles quips, “if that’s what you really want. For the record, it’s not pity, I’d never have stepped foot in the club in the first place had I known you had feelings for me too. But I guess I’ll just leave you be then” He turns to leave, ready to walk away if that’s really what the coyote wants. 

No matter how much it might hurt.

Theo’s hand curls around his wrist. “Don’t you dare walk away from me,” the Alpha growls, words charged and breath thick. “I can’t-” Theo takes a controlled breath, sounding small and vulnerable, “I can’t watch you walk away again.”

“Then don’t,” Stiles whispers, unable to properly breathe either. “I’m yours…if you want that,” that fox turns around meeting rubies. 

“Not just for the night, sweetheart,” Theo sounds like he’s begging, yanking the fox close. His arm wraps around the small of Stiles’ back, keeping him there.

Stiles gulps, imagining this very situation since he was a kid, “However long you want me.”

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” Theo tells him, eyes still glowing red, fingers twitching against his back. 

“Try me,” Stiles retorts, kissing Theo’s response away. 

The Alpha doesn’t pull back other than to drag Stiles to his bed. 

Needless to say, Stiles doesn’t return to Sinema again unless it’s with Theo on his arm. Nor does he sleep in his own room anymore. Theo’s room became theirs. 

[letsperaltiago]

I call it magic when I'm with you |Jake x Amy|

So for my b99 Fall Fic Exchange 2019 I got to write for my fave @amyscascadingtabs and got these 3 prompts to inspire my story:

Halloween costume parties

Baking together (could be something Halloween-related or general fall coziness)

Peraltiago kids celebrating Halloween

I decided to combine all 3 of them (somewhat? I mean there’s no party but there’s the mention of costumes) with a main focus on nr. 2. Hope you like it even though I finished it so last minute and it’s kinda not what you asked for... I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened. Started out good and next thing you know there’s Harry Potter sexy times going down... Anyways happy Halloween and fall-season to you, Johanna and everyone else on here. You’re sweetheart and I hope you still enjoy it though my take on your prompts is... alternative. 

———————————————————————————————————

The sound of crunching leaves beneath her feet secretly provoked a happy, giddy feeling in Amy’s stomach and an extra pep in her walk as she made her way back from the deli down the street from their apartment. It was the day before Halloween, a Friday, and this just so happened to be her and Jake’s weekly common day off which had lead to the purpose behind her trip to the deli: Instead of simply handing out candy, the sergeant was going to (see: try to) bake cute Halloween-themed cookies for the cause. Today was truly a day of mysterious events. Not only was Amy Bad-at-anything-culinary Santiago-Peralta going to bake for innocent kids who didn’t know any better than to politely accept her cookies… She had also willingly gone grocery shopping and everyone knew that she far from handled anything colder than 60 degrees very gracefully. Yet Amy couldn’t help but smile just a bit as a fresh breeze played with both her hair and dead leaves in various shades of red, orange and yellow.

Also extra plump from all the unconscious smiling, her husband couldn’t help but notice the extra bright pink shade of her cheeks when she finally walked in the door with a stuffed paper bag.

“Not too cold?” He hurriedly made his way from the living room to where she was standing by the door to grab the paper bag from her grip.

“A bit,” she shrugged off her coat before putting it away along with her shoes. “But also kind of nice. Refreshing even.”

A scoff could be heard from kitchen the room where Jake was now in the midst of putting down the heavy bag and its content. “Amy Santiago enjoying the cold? Must be a lie.”

“Perhaps adding Peralta to my name changed me for the better,” was mumbled into Jake’s left ear suddenly, letting a tiny giddy shock run through him as an effect from feeling her arms wrap around his waist from behind him. Not that he minded one bit but he hadn’t noticed her making her way from the door to him. Instantly in a reaction to the pleasent surprise, a smile grew on his face and though she couldn’t see his face, it didn’t take much more than the slight change in the tone of his voice to tell her that he was smiling.

“Well… ” the affectionate touch had quickly captured Jake’s full attention causing him to stop his dutiful process of unpacking the groceries onto the counter as to allow himself to turn around in her grip on him to look at her. Their nose-tips briefly brushed across each other, bubbling chuckles dancing from their lips, accompanying their stupidly happy grins. There was barely what could be called space between them. A tiny readjustment was all it would take for them to get that loving lock of lips they always craved. Indeed Jake was in the midst of leaning in to kiss his wife whilst mumbling, “Guess I’m the best thing that has ever happened to you then-“ when a loud wail interrupted their little moment, this bursting their otherwise bulletproof bubble, just as their lips were about to come together and he’d just barely been able to sense that his wife’s lips were still cold from her trip to the deli. A sigh was the only thing Amy got to feel, not at all as satisfying but nonetheless replacing the kiss, before she drew back to shoot him an apologetic yet slightly amused smile.

Jake returned the exact same look. “Did you tell her to do that?”

In a split second Amy’s cheeky apologetic blush switched to a look of defence followed by a playful punch to his shoulder. “How dare you!”

Seriousness being a rare matter it all of course just earned her a soft laugh from Jake who put his hands in the air in what was supposed to look innocence as he slowly backed away from the kitchen towards the hall. “I’m just saying… She’s been napping peacefully ever since I put her down before you left for the deli so it seems rather suspicious that she just now, all of the sudd-“

“Shut up, Peralta,” she scowled picking up on where he’d left off unpacking the groceries, “… and feel free to collect your daughter since you two seem to be ganging up and framing me.”

Though she was clearly messing with him there was no way she’d have to tell him twice; apart from Amy, their new barely 3-month old daughter was Jake’s favorite human and every second with her, wailing furiously or making happy gurgling-sounds, was precious. Still, even after a few months into fatherhood, her daughter was even better and more perfect than he’d ever dared to expect. Actually he never actually knew what to expect since he was so damn scared, but Marcy was incredible. It felt amazingly incredible to not be able to imagine a life without someone that you used to not be able to imagine your life with.

“Hey, Marcipan,” he cooed as he carefully pushed open the door to the infants little, pastel yellow painted room. The little girl of course didn’t answer but simply let out another wail as to call out for someone’s (preferably mom or dad’s) attention.

“Shhh,” he shushed her calmly all while safely leaning down over her bassinet to cradle her tiny body his warm hands. Within seconds, making sure to be careful with the tiny human still as fragile as porcelain, his daughter was safely cradled in his arms and a warmth that had come to grow very familiar spread within him. “What do you say we go help mom bake some cookies, huh?”

He pecked Marcy’s forehead before slowly making his way out the room and down the short hall before continuing the one-sided conversation. “Just between the two of us, we have no choice but to help her,” there was a truth in the words that provoked a chuckle from the father’s own lips. “If we don’t she’s gonna burn the place down and we’ll have to spend Halloween in the streets. Your mom might be tough enough for that but I sure as hell am not.” Whether is was on purpose or not, his sentence ended as he rounded the corner to the kitchen.

“I heard that, you know…” His wife currently had her back turned to them, hands working on something on the kitchen counter and allowing Jake to admire the long, shiny pony tail flowing down her back. Pony tail meant serious business in the book of Amy Peralta-Santiago.

“Just being honest with her, honey.”

There was barely any time for her to react before she felt his figure’s presence besides her, presenting her her now awake and curiously observing daughter. A smile instantly appeared on the mother’s face, her hands interrupting whatever she was doing.

“Hi, baby,” she cooed sweetly ahead of bowing down to place a kiss, similarly to how Jake had just seconds ago, to her daughter’s soft forehead. “Did you nap well while mommy was gone? Or did you just spend the entire time plotting against me with your father?”

“Oh mommy, me and dad would never be mean to you,” Jake spoke in a high-pitched, phony voice as to take on his daughter’s role.

Amy straightened back up to take in the funny sight of her husband’s parody with one hand on her now popped hip and a suspiciously cocked eyebrow. Though there was no way she was actually mad at him, this kind of banter was a Peralta-Santiago trademark. Not a day went by without it and Jake incorporating their newborn daughter was definitely to his advantage.

“Hm,” she turned back to what appeared to be a bowl with mixed ingredients. “I don’t know if I believe you two…”

“Please believe us, mommy,” Jake continued his little sketch, following Amy’s movement away from them trying to close the remaining distance between them. “I napped really well and daddy just sat there thinking about how much he loves you and how he can’t wait to see you wearing that sexy Hermione costume he bought-”

Upon hearing those last few words slipping off her husband’s lips (her husband who was currently holding their tiny daughter in their arms!!) Amy’s head snapped back to him and away from where it was looking at what was slowly but somewhat surely becoming cookie dough. “Jake!” Though his wife’s eyes would forever and always be the most beautiful, soothing and perfect brown pair, for a second right there in that moment, he feared them and the threatening daggers they shot. “Don’t say stuff like that in front of Marcy!”

“Babe, she’s a baby,” he chuckled warmly to his defence, leaning in before tenderly placing kiss to his wife’s cheek followed by replacing them directly onto her ear so that his breathy whisper could hopefully cause shivers to run down her spine. “I could add so many more details about what you and I do when she’s asleep and she wouldn’t understand a thing.”

One side of Amy, the one that did quiver beneath the feeling of his whisper into her ear, wanted to give in to the tension her husband had managed to sneak into an otherwise very innocent and domestic moment.  Yet her contradicting side, the one that was eyeing their tiny daughter safely cuddled up in his arms, managed to fight her urge. Yes, it was a fact that the otherwise incredible arrival of their daughter had kept them from any particularly intimate activities. Whenever Marcy happened to somewhat sleep through the night the two exhausted parents made sure to use every precious second to catch up on the constant state of lacking sleep that they currently lived in. Yet she couldn’t get herself to act on her urges right in front of the tiny, innocent human.

“Jake…” Amy’s vocal chords barely managed to generate a mumble with a longing quiver as she fought the fight between giving in to the side of her that was simply a craving human and the side that was a parent.

Deep down she knew that they couldn’t go any further - at least not right now when her baby’s beautiful, innocent face was looking right at her. Nonetheless she couldn’t break the spell without allowing herself to give into the intrigue that her husband’s familiar lips waiting expectingly against her ear brought to life within her. There barely even time to acknowledge the movement before her neck and head had twisted just enough in his direction for her ear to be replaced by her lips. Years later and he still made her feel like a bubbleheaded love-sick teen.

“I know she’s a baby…” Amy whispered into the merge of their moving lips, somehow managing to keep up with Jake’s lips that happened to be persuasive as ever in the act of pursue this rush of affection for his wife. “… But we need to behave.”

“Uhummm,” as carefree as he was known to be, there was no way the mumble meant Jake planned on stopping. Itself the fact that he’d been able to keep Amy going, partially against her morals, for this long was a tiny victory that sparked the teasing competitive within him that he loved almost as much as her.

Though Amy kept telling herself that she was indeed about to break it up, Marcy letting out a tiny squeal beat her to it. The two enamoured adults quickly broke the embrace both instantly redirecting their wild gazes down at their fussy daughter. Both had to let out a small chuckle meanwhile Marcy looked anything but pleased by her parents’ lack of immersion in her presence.

“We pissed her off,” Jake joked before taking a step back from his position previously glued to his wife, allowing room to gently rock the infant which instantly reacted by quieting down. Still by the kitchen counter and having learned quite early into their new role as parents that Jake was very much capable of handling their daughter’s small tantrums on his own, Amy had resumed to the process of her Halloween cookie-experiment (Amy doing anything in the kitchen was an experiment, Jake had learned a long time ago).

“She’s tired of her dad being so obsessed with her mother instead of her.”

Jake could hear the smirk in her voice as she shuffled across the tiny kitchen to turn on the oven for her.

“That must be a big misunderstanding then,” he carefully repositioned the tiny human. Instead of cradling her carefully he was now holding her by the armpits, Lion King-stylez, facing him as he raised his arms to hold her at his eye level. “Isn’t that right, Marcipan?” He kissed his daughters forehead tenderly before holding her back out to look into her eyes. “You and I both know that you’re my favorite, don’t we?” his voice immediately indulged in his daughter’s universe, mushy and goofy,  only adding sweetness to the sight of him simultaneously nuzzling her tiny with his big nose.

Moments like these could only kindle a varm feeling in every corner of Amy’s body.

Since things were going so well for them she rarely gave it any thought, but in moments like this specific one it suddenly hit her that at some point Jake actually doubted his abilities as a parent. Yet here was, goofing around with their child like it was the most natural thing in the world, and Amy could only burst with pride at the sight. Not only had she witnessed Jake picking a tough battle in order to disobey the voices in his head telling him that there was no way he could be a better father than his own was; now she was also witnessing him, on a daily basis, being what she could only consider as being the most loving, dedicated and hard-working father to their daughter.

“I’m okay with that,” Amy smirked, making her way to the fridge to put the dough to rest. Jake’s eyes followed her, staying attentive for many reasons, as he carefully placed his daughter back into a cradled position in his arms. There was no way he was going to be let off with being right; something was coming to shut him up and all he could do was observe, wait patiently for his witty wife to pull out the last trick hidden up her sleeve. Her every move was noted.

Slowly closing the fridge was step one. The movement wasn’t exactly slow enough to seem suspicious, like it was leading to something else, but what happened afterwards or better known as step two would definitely blow his mind.

“… cause at the end of the day, as soon as I put on that costume… I’ll be your favorite.” Just in time to match her reaching the end of her venomous sentence, Amy tantalisingly turned around (right on that very same spot by the now closed fridge) and like a dagger stabbing him in his hopelessly devoted heart her deep, her brown eyes told him everything he needed to know. As so many times before she was more than right - and as so many times before he didn’t mind one bit. If she wasn’t smirking before (which she was) then she definitely was now and it was driving Jake crazy which with the biggest guarantee in the world she immensely enjoyed. Amy Santiago-Peralta had driven him crazy with great, legendary purpose for the past 11 years and by the looks of it she wasn’t planning on stopping; yet another fact Jake didn’t mind one bit.

He especially didn’t mind later that evening, after saving five entire batches of cookies from burning, when Marcy decided to stay asleep and his wife suddenly walked into their bedroom clad in a what Hogwarts would definitely define as a scandalous outfit: a way too revealing school girl outfit (if you asked Hogwarts - not Jake), red knee-socks and tie, only to be topped off with a magic wand. Needless to say that Jake, who’d quietly been sitting in bed on his phone playing Candy Crush (such a dad) dropped his jaw through their bedroom floor right at that very moment. Ambushed was not the word; this was so much worse (better).

“Hey, babe…” She smiled teasingly, posing by the end of the bed well knowing that she hypothetically could say or do nothing at all and it would still drive Jake insane. But where was the fun in that?

“Wanna explore my chamber of secrets?”

His reaction to those words, to her brief dismay, reminded her of Scully’s famous heart attacks. “Oh my God, Amy,” he basically gasped for air and Amy loved it as she took her time making her way around the bed before straddling him with the dopiest yet sexiest grin on her face.

“Jake Peralta!” She gasped playfully. “Is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

And though he loved his daughter more than anything in the world, he prayed that tonight would be the night Marcy Santiago-Peralta would make him proud and sleep soundly.

“Guilty as charged…” He returned the grin, having finally returned from his stroke-like state, only to put his phone aside to slide his hands all the way up her thigh to her waist, burying them under her robe to pick at the edge of her skirt. Amy Peralta-Santiago-Granger… You’ve definitely got me under your spell for the night.”