#listen the way i was unable to see anyone but Can as Teddy thanks to the constant references to his gorgeous hair

[hedevimaiyya]

Second First Impressions by Sally Thorne

Distraction (n): an extreme agitation of the mind or emotions. Ruthie Midona has worked the front desk at the Providence Luxury Retirement Villa for six years, dedicating her entire adult life to caring for the Villa’s residents, maintaining the property (with an assist from DIY YouTube tutorials), and guarding the endangered tortoises that live in the Villa’s gardens. Somewhere along the way, she’s forgotten that she’s young and beautiful, and that there’s a world outside of work—until she meets the son of the property developer who just acquired the retirement center. Teddy Prescott has spent the last few years partying, sleeping in late, tattooing himself when bored, and generally not taking life too seriously—something his father, who dreams of grooming Teddy into his successor, can’t understand. When Teddy needs a place to crash, his father seizes the chance to get him to grow up. He’ll let Teddy stay in one of the on-site cottages at the retirement home, but only if he works to earn his keep. Teddy agrees—he can change a few lightbulbs and clip some hedges, no sweat. But Ruthie has plans for Teddy too. Her two wealthiest and most eccentric residents have just placed an ad (yet another!) seeking a new personal assistant to torment. The women are ninety-year-old, four-foot-tall menaces, and not one of their assistants has lasted a full week. Offering up Teddy seems like a surefire way to get rid of the tall, handsome, unnerving man who won’t stop getting under her skin. Ruthie doesn’t count on the fact that in Teddy Prescott, the Biddies may have finally met their match. He’ll pick up Chanel gowns from the dry cleaner and cut Big Macs into bite-sized bits. He’ll do repairs around the property, make the residents laugh, and charm the entire villa. He might even remind Ruthie what it’s like to be young and fun again. But when she finds out Teddy’s father’s only fixing up the retirement home to sell it, putting everything she cares about in jeopardy, she’s left wondering if Teddy’s magic was all just a façade.

Pınar Deniz as Ruthie Midona Can Yaman as Teddy Prescott

[beautiful-and-terrible]

little things

Rating: Gen

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, SoftBoi!Rodrick, Insecure!Reader

Ship: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Warnings: Body Image, Eating Disorders / Body Dysmorphia, Insecurity 

A/N: this is. SO shmoopy and cheesy lmaoooo but this was an anon request and i live to please :) enjoy!

---

You dragged yourself through your front door, kicking off your shoes in the foyer. The house was dark - your parents were probably asleep already.

You had just spent the day with Rodrick at Six Flags, and you were exhausted from spending all day in the hot sun, running around with your boyfriend like children. You smiled to yourself thinking about the events of the day, the thrill of the rollercoasters you went on.

You clutched the teddy bear Rodrick had won you close to your chest as you slowly ascended the stairs, trying not to make too much noise.

You entered your room and tenderly placed the bear on the bed, giving it a little kiss on the head as you did so before starting your night routine. Change into pajamas, brush teeth, wash face. As you were putting on your final face cream, your phone vibrated on the bathroom counter. You knew who it was from the specific rhythm of the vibration - two short bursts, like a heartbeat.

Rodrick had sent pictures of you two from today - a lot of selfies, but also a couple of far away shots that Rodrick had harassed people into taking for you. People rarely were able to say no to Rodrick once he had gotten an idea into his head - even if that idea was wrapping himself around a street lamp like a stripper for a good picture.

You finally, blissfully laid down in bed, letting out a giant groan as you cracked your back. You browsed the photos, feeling your heart-rate pick up as you gazed at Rodrick in the pictures. He looked so cute today - he had been wearing cut off black jeans, black high-top vans, and a loose button down Hawaiian shirt, half-way unbuttoned to show off his tanned chest and the multiple layers of silver necklaces he was wearing. His nails were painted black, but his eyes were free of makeup, simply accented by his naturally long eye-lashes and the smile-lines around his eyes.

After admiring Rodrick, you turned your gaze to yourself in the pictures. You felt your heart sink into your stomach. When you had left the house this morning, you had felt pretty confident in your outfit - just ripped jean shorts and a crop-top with converse. But as you looked closer, you couldn’t stop thinking about how unsatisfied you felt with the way you looked in the pictures.

As you continued to scroll through, the more faults you found in your appearance. Your thighs being squeezed by your shorts, which didn’t feel too tight but apparently were not as flattering as you thought. In one picture, you were sitting down on a bench, your legs over Rodrick’s lap, but you couldn’t stop staring at the roll of your stomach that came over the waistband of your shorts. You felt tears pricking your eyes, but you stubbornly refused to cry. You spent a long time trying to feel confident in yourself - you weren’t going to let that hard work be ruined by a few unflattering photos.

However, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way your body looked in those pictures. You got up to stand in front of your full length mirror, looking at the reflection critically. You were craning your neck to look at your butt when you heard a soft tap-tap-tap at the window. You jumped about 2 feet in the air before you realized it was just Rodrick, grinning from outside the window and placing a wet kiss on the glass, making you laugh. He made a grossed-out expression when he realized the glass was not as clean as he thought it was, wiping his tongue on the back of his hand.

“I swear to God, you’re like a toddler. Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to lick random surfaces?” you asked as you opened the window to let him in. He folded himself gracefully through the window, all long limbs and messy hair. You felt both comforted and electrified in his presence.

“Since when have I ever listened to any authority figure?” Rodrick asked, grinning wolfishly and leaning down to kiss you softly, juxtaposing his rebellious tone. For someone with such a seemingly hard exterior, Rodrick was always very gentle and sweet with you. It was one of the things you loved most about him - he seemed to hate everyone but you. It made you feel special and appreciated. 

As he pulled back from the kiss, he frowned, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Have you been crying? Your eyes are red,” he said, making a pouty face. You shrugged, turning away and shaking your head.

“No, just allergies probably.”

Rodrick scoffed, “Sure, allergies. You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

You refused to look at him, instead going to your record player and flipping through the vinyls you had stacked in a black milk-crate. “I’m not a bad liar,” you said half-heartedly, not really able to come up with any other excuse.

“You totally are, you avoided eye contact and everything. Seriously, what's wrong? Do you not like the bear?” Rodrick asked. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, his chest pressed against your back, his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. You felt yourself smile despite your bad mood.

“No, I love the bear. I named him Sasha Bear-on Cohen. Get it?” you said, turning your head to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Ahh, a-very nice,” Rodrick replied in his best Borat impression. You giggled. He gave you a squeeze, hands warm on your waist, but the sensation made you self-conscious about your body again, and you wiggled away. You couldn’t understand how Rodrick could bear to touch you. You had no idea why he was attracted to you in the first place. It made tears spring to your eyes again, and you sniffled.

“Y/n”, Rodrick said softly, looking genuinely concerned. “I know you. You don’t get sad for no reason - unless you’re on your period, or you start thinking too much about the Mars Curiosity Rover.”

You sighed, but you knew he had a point. It took you a minute to get your thoughts into words before you spoke.

“I just... I know its silly. But those pictures - you look like a Hot Topic wet dream and I look... I don’t know. I just don’t like the way I look. And most of the time I don’t let it bother me - at least, I try - but I hate having my picture taken because whenever I see them, all I can see is the things I hate about myself. So. Yeah.”

You feel the tears making steady rivers down your cheeks, and your voice shakes as you speak. Rodrick listens attentively, sitting on the foot of your bed. He pats the space next to him, and you sit down. His hand rests on your leg - not constraining you or placating you with a hug, just letting you know he’s there.

“Y/n, I don’t know how to tell you this without sounding like a giant cheese-ball, but... holy fuck. You are so beautiful. I - every time I look at you all I can think is goddamn, I can’t believe she’s into a loser like me. And don’t argue, it’s just a fact,” he says quickly as you try to defend him from his own self-deprecation. 

“I’m not good with words... I’m more of a man of action, y’know?” he says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. You smack him on the arm, but his silly expression still makes you smile.

“But, I can still tell you - and don’t repeat this to anyone ever because I’ll never live it down - you give me butterflies. Every time. No matter if you’re in pajamas or a ballgown. You make me feel like a stack of pancakes with warm butter and syrup,” he pauses as you laugh, his warm brown eyes gazing into yours. “Just... I don’t even know what I’m saying at this point. You make my bones feel funny. That’s how beautiful you are.”

Rodrick finally wraps his arms around you. You let yourself be folded into the embrace, feeling content and more than a little overwhelmed by his confession.

“Thank you,” you murmur, unable to find any other words at the moment. You want to say all of that back to him, ten-fold. You want to tell him he makes you feel like flashing concert lights and Fourth of July fireworks. But your mouth can’t make the words, so you just wrap your arms around him tighter.

“Do you want me to spend the night?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your temple. You simply nod, already moving up the bed and pulling back the covers as Rodrick goes to turn out the lights.

In the dark of the room, only illuminated by the street-lamp outside your house, Rodrick looks very alien - all long lines and lean angles. It makes your heart-rate kick up again, and you feel a blush form on your cheeks. It’s not as though this is the first time you’ve slept in the same bed, or even been intimate, but this feels... different. 

Rodrick tucks himself in next to you on your bed - it’s a queen size, so it fits both of you well enough that you could sleep together not touching if you wanted to. But Rodrick is a big cuddler at heart, even if he would deny it to his grave. He wraps his arms around your waist as you lay your head on his chest, already being lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

You feel like it’s important to tell him before you both lose the tenderness of the moment, so you finally open your mouth to speak.

“I’m so lucky. I know you think you’re... a loser, or whatever but, Rodrick. You aren’t. You are so beyond cool, and brave, and courageous. Thinking about you makes my head spin. And whenever I see you... I’m home.” You trail off, feeling awkward, but Rodrick simply tightens his arms around you, stroking your back with his fingers.

“If I knew we were getting this sentimental I wouldn’t have brought lube... and maybe a few tissues,” he snickers, and you pinch his nipple, causing him to squeal.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch,” he teases back, and you sigh softly, feeling your body and mind relax. You had almost completely forgotten about the pictures - and at this point, you didn’t really care. The pictures didn’t speak. The only voice telling you that you weren’t beautiful was the one inside your head, and it could definitely be a bitch sometimes.

You could’ve imagined it, but as your brain was finally shutting down, you could’ve sworn you heard Rodrick start to sing, “you are my sunshine... my only sunshine...”

“you make me happy... when skies are gray...”

“you’ll never know, dear, how much i love you...”

“please don’t take my sunshine away...”

[duskholland]

idk if this one has been done yet, but what about getting in a fight with mob!tom and he says something that really upsets her but tries his best to make up for it because he knows he fucked up?

getting angsty on this monday, I like it! I had fun with this. I went less tom trying to make up for it and more him undergoing the biggest grovel session of his life lmao. lowkey got a bit emotional writing it fhjdhf. enjoy !! cw: angst (w a happy end)

– it’s mob monday !! –

The argument builds quickly, escalating from a minor spat to an all-out explosion in the blink of an eye. What had started out as a small grievance about Tom’s inability to make time for you had snowballed, and now you’re standing opposite him, angry tears glistening in your eyes.

“You’re being unreasonable!” You exclaim, voice coming out hard. The palms of your hands hurt from the clenching of your fingers, small crescent-moon shapes from your nails pressed into your skin. “Why won’t you just listen to me?”

Tom’s face is a deep shade of volatile red, his hair unruly and untamed from the number of times he’s run his hands through his curls. He’d abandoned his smooth-talker facade minutes ago, now fully leaning into the side of him that you only usually see when he’s around his opponents.

“I’ve tried listening to you, Y/N, but you aren’t paying attention to what I’m saying,” he says, voice staccato. He clasps his hands in front of his chest as he groans, his face the picture of frustration. “I can’t change my schedule for you, alright? If you actually paid attention to how I live my life, and the lifestyle that I lead, you’d understand that. I can’t be like all your other boyfriends. I have responsibilities that are bigger than you.”

You bring your hands to your temples, trying not to cry as you stare at him.

“I don’t want you to be like my ex-boyfriends,” you respond, “I want you to be a good boyfriend, and pay attention to me when I tell you that I miss you.” Your voice softens slightly, and your glare loses some of its ferocity. “It gets fucking lonely living in this house, Tom. For such a big mansion, there’s barely ever anyone around, and when you’re not here…” You wave a hand through the air. “I feel alone.”

“Then move out.”

Immediately, your blood runs cold. You feel your heart drop straight to your feet, and your arms fall to your side, defeated.

“What?” You croak. A fresh flood of tears well up in your eyes as you stare at your boyfriend, who’s still looking at you like you’ve done something to cause him grievous bodily harm.

“If you hate living here, and you hate dating me so much, just move out, Y/N.” Tom shoves his hands in his pockets, shrugging. “Seems to me like that’d be a good solution to your problem.”

You shake your head, in disbelief at how quickly your boyfriend of two years has pivoted.

“Are you being serious?” You say, blinking at him. “Are you actually trying to kick me out right now? Just because I care about and want to spend time with my boyfriend?”

Tom stares at the ground, and you see his jaw twitch. You give him a few seconds to say something, anything, and when he fails to do so, you stalk over to the wardrobe. It’s only when you pick up a bag and start to throw your things into it that he seems to realise how angry you are.

“What are you doing?” Tom asks, sounding panicked. He walks towards you, reaching out for you, but you move away. Your eyes sting with tears, and you feel a few stray droplets roll down your face as you shake your head.

“I’m leaving,” you mutter. Your hands shake as you sling the bag over your shoulder and go into the bathroom, picking up your toothbrush and a few other things. “Going back to my flat.”

Tom shakes his head. “Please don’t do that, love.” He sounds desperate all of a sudden, and when you glance at him in the mirror, you see he’s deflated--shoulders shrunk, eyes wide. “I… I didn’t mean it, I was caught in the moment. You don’t need to leave.” He reaches out for you again but you dodge him.

“Don’t touch me,” you mutter. You hastily pull on the zip of the bag before walking back into the bedroom. “Don’t come over either. I don’t want to see you until you’ve figured out what you want from me and what you want from this relationship.”

He trails after you, keeping a safe distance, but you can almost feel how badly he wants to reach out and take your hand.

“I love you,” Tom pleads. “Please don’t go. We can work this out together.”

You shake your head. You’re walking fast now, just glad that you’d held onto the keys of your old flat when you’d moved in with Tom.

“We need space. I need space.” You find yourself at the front door, and you turn around to stare at Tom. He flinches as he takes in the sight of the tear tracks on your cheeks, and the angry hurt in your eyes. “Just… Leave me alone, Tom.”

You turn and you leave, letting the heavy front door slam behind you.

––––––

Your first day apart passes by in a blur of anger, upset, and heartbreak. Your best friend comes over and you talk to her, well into the night, venting about everything you’ve been unable to air to Tom, given his remarkable absence from your life. It’s not that he’d been pulling away intentionally, rather, his job had taken him away from you, over and over and over again. Every time you’d brought it up casually, he’d shot you down. It was just a matter of time before it overflowed like that.

One day stretches to two, then three. Tom makes an appearance on the fourth.

You know it’s him just from the way he knocks on your front door: three strong knocks, syncopated in his favourite rhythm. You carefully, quietly, tiptoe to the door and lean up to peer through the peephole, feeling your breath hitch as you see his figure, distorted by the glass. He looks tired and unkempt, wearing a hoodie and some jeans instead of one of his suits. His hair is all over the place, and there’s a shadow of stubble grazing his chin.

“Love?” He calls out, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know you’re there.”

You swallow, continuing to spy on him as you say nothing.

Tom sighs. “I’m so sorry, Y/N... I feel like shit. I shouldn’t have said what I said, because I didn’t mean it.” He breaks off, and you watch as he pinches at the bridge of his nose. “I know you want space, but I… I miss you. And I love you, so much. So, so, so much, love. I’ve never loved anyone this much in my life, and it’s terrifying.” He breaks off, chuckling harshly. “So I don’t know why I decided to fuck things up. Guess I’m just fucking stupid, eh?”

You rest your forehead against the door, frowning as you listen to him talk. You’ve never heard him sound so defeated before.

“Anyway, uh… I just wanted to come around and tell you that I’m sorry. I’ll never stop being sorry for what I said. I don’t want you to move out, I want you to come back.” Tom chuckles weakly. “I don’t ever want you to leave. I can’t imagine what my life would look like without you in it, so… If you want me to, I’ll give it up. I’ll give it all up.” He pauses to suck in a breath, his voice becoming thick. “We can, uh, sell the house. Move somewhere nice. Maybe get a townhouse somewhere, or, uh, a cottage, or whatever you want, darling. I could get a normal job.” He breaks off to laugh humourlessly. “Don’t know what I’d do, but… I’d do it. For you. I’d do anything for you. So… just think about it, please.”

Tom pauses, and you watch as he reaches up to rub at his eyes. His voice cracks as he adds, “I love you.” After a final repetition of the words, he sighs and steps back. “I’ll, uh, go now. Just… Know that I’m sorry. And I love you. So much.”

He turns to leave, and you suddenly realise he’s about to walk away. You reach up and rattle the chain on your door before turning the handle, throwing it open, and stepping out into the hallway. Tom turns to look at you, and you’re shocked to see his bloodshot eyes, bright red nose, and the tear tracks that stain his cheeks.

“Tom,” you say, voice gentle. “It’s… It’s okay.”

He slowly steps back towards you, moving hesitantly until you offer him your hands. You tenderly loop your fingers together, feeling his cold digits.

“It’s not okay,” Tom mumbles, looking at you with those wide brown eyes you love so much. “I was such a dick, love. I shouldn’t have said it.”

You squeeze his hands. “You shouldn’t have,” you agree, “but it’s okay.” You gently pull one of his palms to your mouth and kiss over his knuckles a few times. “I said some things I shouldn’t have too…” You sigh gently. “I miss you, Tom.”

You’ve felt it every day. A hollowness in your heart. Tom always makes your life brighter, even when he’s not around. He leaves your mug out by the kettle when he leaves every morning, and he makes sure the fridge is stocked with your favourite fruits. Tom’s the one who neatly arranges your shoes on the shoe rack by the door, and makes sure the thermostat is set right. He always tidies up the bathroom and puts your favourite teddy right in the centre of the bed, every single day. You miss his smile, and his arms, and the love he has for you that exists even when he’s not there.

“I miss you too,” he says.

He looks so fragile that you pull him in for a hug, burying your nose in his neck and inhaling the soft tones of faded cologne. Tom clings to you, his hands digging into your back and holding you firmly. You swallow as you tilt your mouth towards his ear.

“Can I come back home?” You ask. “I don’t want to do any of this without you.”

Tom hums. After a moment more, he pulls back, but he keeps his hands wrapped around you. He looks into your eyes, a very shy smile moving out over his lips.

“I would love that,” he says. “The house isn’t the same without you.”

You move your hands around his neck and kiss him very softly, feeling a part of you flicker back to life as his gentle lips nudge up against yours.

“Thank you.” You card your fingers through his hair. “I love you.”

And there’s still so much you need to talk about and work through, but Tom pushes his forehead against yours and stares at you with so much determination that you know you’ll get there, you’ll be okay. You know that he loves you.

He kisses you again, just as gently as the first time.

“Love you too, darling,” he promises. “Love you more than anything else in the world.”

[anyoneseenadam]

Hii

Can you please write something for fenrys? first meeting maybe? And the bond clicks? Thank you 🥺🥺

pairing: Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

warnings: implied smut, kissing and nudity, lil bit of blood and injuries but mainly pure fluff

a/n: fenrys is my fave and u can tell in the fic omg!! i hope you enjoy it cause it’s probs my fave one i’ve written yet :))) (i also made it a teensy bit ddlg but that’s just cause i want Fenrys to baby me lol)

——————————————————————————

Shit

Fenrys pressed his hand to the wound in his side, feeling the slow pump of blood seeping between his fingers as he stumbled through the woods. He had won the fight. The other guy now lying in the dirt, however not without consequence. And he wasn’t entirely sure he would stay alive unless he could find a healer soon.

He stopped to lean against a tree, breathing heavily as he held himself together. He transformed into a wolf, moving faster, and trying to pick up a scent, any scent, that could possibly help him, when he caught the sweetest smell he ever had. It was a female, smelling like peonies and blackberries, sweet but with an underlying smoky smell. She smelled of long days in flowers fields and even longer nights beside campfires, evenings spent curled in hand woven blankets and mornings spent drinking dark coffee and eating sweet toast.

He whimpered and began running in the direction of the scent. If he wasn’t so focused on not bleeding out he may have stopped to consider why the scent was pulling him in the way it did. He would have considered the direction he was running into, the direction of his future, his past and his present. But he just kept up, going as fast as his injured body would allow, concentrating on the sweet smell and putting one foot in front of the other.

He felt the change almost immediately, the cold snow and rough bark being swapped for cool moss. The pine trees swapped for tall, oak trees teeming with life. The silence of a frozen forest swapped for the rustling of bushes as nocturnal animals moved silently under the guise of darkness. The chill of the snow-covered woods swapped for the warmth of a summer evening. He pushed between two bushes and found himself facing a clearing, in the middle of which stood a wooden cottage, the wood dark and the roof covered in more moss, flowers growing from every surface and ivy peeking out of the crevices in the house. He stumbled down the path to the cottage, turning back into a male and crossing a small bridge over a stream that separated him from the intoxicating scent he chased.

He let out what he could only describe as a bark, calling for the female that carried the scent he was growing addicted to, collapsing onto his knees, feeling his conscious fade as he held to the side of his stomach, searing pain replaced by fiery veins as his head swayed. He barely heard the door open, only noticing the scent get so much stronger. He attempted to look up, the movement making his head spin as he collapsed, the last thing he saw, a girl in the halo of the moon.

--

Fenrys awoke in a foreign bed. An unbelievably comfortable bed, but foreign all the same. He pushed up on his forearms, gritting his teeth at the reminder of his wound.

The room he was in was dark, not just in light source, but also in décor. The window was cracked open with lacy curtains half closed, there was a tall bookshelf sat next to a desk with leather-bound books lining it, and tall candles flickering and casting the room in a golden glow. The bed he was in was small, clearly just for one, but so soft. He had blankets surrounding him and copious amounts of pillows, some that appeared hand made. In fact, upon closer inspection, a lot of the room looked handmade. Art covering the walls depicting crying women or bloody scenes that he presumed had been done by the owner of this house, given the pallet and assortment of brushed he saw on the windowsill.

And then there was that scent. It was stronger here and he pressed his face into a pillow tentatively, breathing in through his nose as he picked up on the deeper undertones. Fresh picked daisies, melted wax, the pages of old, worn books and something he couldn’t describe. Something so intoxicating he felt tears spring to his eyes, his body reacting in an unheard-of way, so overcome with emotion from scent alone.

He heard footsteps approaching the closed door and hastily put down the pillow, sitting up straight and readying himself to fight whoever it was if they were an intruder. But when you entered he faltered.

Mate. The word clanged through him as he came face to face with an angel. You were wearing a dark brown broderie dress with white hearts lining the hem, your feet bare and toenails painted black. Your hair was falling around your face, messy and untamed, and you had dark smudges around your eyes, makeup that accentuated your features and made you look like a character from the scary books he read as a boy. However right now you looked more like a teddy bear.

He briefly remembered the tail of a witch he had read. An evil witch who lured men into her house with whispered words and sweet kisses, only to steal their hearts and use their blood to keep her skin young and eyes bright. This girl however was no witch, you had elegantly pointed ears and a graceful way of moving that only came from being Fae. He watched as you moved to his side, silent on your feet, putting a tray down beside him before moving an opening the curtains further, letting in more natural light.

“How are you feeling?” your sweet voice interrupted his thoughts. His mind coming to a halt as he heard you speak.

“I- er fine..?” His voice was rough, and you smiled, a reserved smile. Moving to his side and sitting at the edge of the small bed he was on, pouring him a glass of water from a small decanter you had brought through.

“(Y/n.)” you answered his unspoken question.

“Fenrys.”

He muttered a thanks as you passed the glass to him, noting the crystals that hung around your neck and adorned your fingers.

“Crystals?” he asked, and you looked down, playing with the rings you wore nervously.

“My mother taught me about their meanings, they’ve always helped me.” You bit your lip and Fenrys decided he would never meet anyone as cute as you again, it simply wasn’t possible.

“Me too, my mother used to carry them everywhere.” You smiled at him shyly, a beat of silence passing between the two of you as he listened to the birds outside.

“Can I see your wound? I want it make sure it’s healing properly.” You asked and he nodded, pulling the blankets down slightly, grinning as your eyes widened as you took in his physique.

“I’m presuming you’re the healer I have to thank for letting me see another day.” He flirted playfully but you shook your head,

“I’m not a very good healer I’m sorry, but I did stitch it up and it should do the rest itself.” You pressed gentle fingers against the skin surrounding his wound and he glanced down, seeing it was already practically healed.

“You still saved my life.” He said, completely serious and you looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“I’ll let you rest.” You said quietly, standing to walk away and he smiled, feeling more at ease than he ever had since the war, watching his little mate leave.

--

He woke up again a few hours later, wound completely healed and puckering into a scar. Standing he stretched his arms above his head, not bothering with a shirt as he left the room in search of the girl that had occupied his dreams.

The rest of the house was alike your room, tall candles and worn books everywhere. He passed a kitchen filled with copper utensils and a living room with an old armchair, a half-filled mug left next to it, but still no you. He saw the front door was cracked open and wandered over to it, pulling it open and stepping into the fresh air, barely feeling the chill on his body as he found you kneeling on the moss-covered ground facing away from him.

You were muttering under your breath and as he got closer he saw you were cradling a small bird with a broken wing. He watched as you closed your eyes, the ground and air seeming to still as you called upon your magic, a soft white light flowing from your hand into the bird until its wing was healed and it could flutter away.

“I thought you said you weren’t a healer,” he broke the silence and you turned to him with a small smile.

“I said I wasn’t a very good healer.” You replied, standing with green stained knees, your hair now piled atop your head and lip gloss coating your soft lips.

“What are you then?” he came closer to you, unable to resist holding his mate, even if you weren’t aware yet.

“My mother said we were natural faeries.” You said, looking at him shyly, “we derive our power from the earth, crystals, sea water, dirt, fire, stuff like that.”

He hummed, “So technically you could have any type of magic?”

“I guess, but I’m not very good at magic,” you muttered, hands fiddling with your rings again as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Fenrys?” you asked, all pouty lips and wide eyes.

“Have you realised yet darling?” he asked, and you bit your lip. He knew he could tell you, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“I- we’re mates I think.” You were practically shaking, and he didn’t know why he suddenly had this burning desire to scoop you into his arms and protect you against the horrible world that was out there. He nodded with a smile, watching as awe took over your stunning face.

“Can I kiss you princess?” he asked, and you felt your face heat up, looking down as he pulled you closer. “Have you ever been kissed before angel?” he asked, his face hurting from the grin that was spreading over his face when you shook your head.

He tilted your head up to his, looking deeply into your eyes as your breaths came out quicker. “Not many people can find our cottage, my mother put up wards when she got ill, our family wasn’t well liked by the king. You probably only got here because we’re mates,” You muttered.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked again, running a soft hand over your head, smoothing your hair away from your face as you nodded sweetly.

He smiled before leaning down and kissing you gently. Pulling away and feeling as smug as a thief when your lips followed his, pouting at the loss of contact so quickly. He chuckled at your put out expression and leaned down to kiss you again, deeper this time, his tongue slipping into your mouth when you gasped against his lips, quickly beating your own in a battle for dominance and taking his time exploring your mouth.

He laid you down that morning and took you for the first time in the soft moss. Then again in your even softer bed. Now you were sitting in his lap, eating strawberries of a bush you had in your back garden as he pressed dizzying kisses into your neck, both of you still as bare as the day you were born, Fenrys having forgot how much he missed skin to skin contact, when you suddenly remembered.

“Fenrys?” he hummed in response, completely enamoured with the feel of your soft skin against his rough calluses. “Why were you hurt last night?”

“I didn’t tell you my job did I angel?” he asked, the pet name making you giggle as you shook your head, “I work for the queen of Terrasen.”

You gasped, “But she was killed!”

“Oh angel, when was the last time you left this cottage?” he asked, worry coming over him as he realised you had been holed up alone for so long.

“Not since my mother died. She said the king was dangerous and that he would hurt me if he found me,” your bottom lip was wobbling and Fenrys quickly kissed it away, shushing you as it dawned on him just how innocent his little girl was.

“No baby, he’s gone now, the new king of Adarlan is a very kind man and the Queen of Terrasen is wonderful,” he promised, “Will you let me take you to meet them?”

You nodded enthusiastically, bouncing slightly in his lap making him groan. He nipped at your ear lobe and you squealed as he pushed you down. You could meet them another day, today he was too busy with his little mate.

[awesomerextyphoon]

Home for Christmas

This is my first entry for the wonderful @navybrat817​, @stargazingfangirl18​, and @donutloverxo​’s Happy Hoelidays Challenge!

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Black!Reader (Fem)

Summary: You got screwed this holiday season. Thankfully, someone decided to give you a break.

Rating: 18+/Explicit

Word Count: 2,211

Warning: Unprotected Smut (wrap it before you tap it!), Oral (f and m receiving), Fluff, Angst, Talks of Anxiety

A/N:  Not gonna lie, I feel a little intimidated by all of the amazing writers participating. So let me throw my hat into the ring, so to speak. Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​. Check them out!

Back to Masterlist

“You have until the end of the month.”

“Okay, thanks.” You could barely keep your voice together you were so distraught.

You lost your job and your apartment all in the same week. You had used up most of your savings paying your grandmother’s medical bills. Your anxiety had gone through the roof since you got the pink slip yesterday. Now, six weeks till Christmas, you have to ask (beg) your friends if you can couch surf until you can get back on your feet.

You told your therapist that your anxiety had spiked to uncomfortable levels. You could barely sleep at night and you’ve had trouble concentrating on simple tasks. It felt like the world was closing in and you were helpless to stop it.

You hoped that something would give.

  Bucky was coming back from an outing with Sam when he spotted you fumbling with your keys with tears streaming down your face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Startled, you swiveled your head, “Oh Bucky! How are you?”

“I’m fine. So, do you want to talk?”

Your lower lip quivered and the dam broke,” I lost my job yesterday, all my savings went to my aunt’s medical bills, and my landlord said I have to leave at end of the month!” you sobbed as Bucky pulled you in for a hug.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Bucky cooed as he rubbed circles onto your back.

“It’s not, but thanks.” you choked out trying to compose yourself.

It would seem that fate thought it right to mock him today. Brock got another compliment for his work and the love of his life was about to be on the streets.

Though Bucky shouldn’t be surprised that you knew next to nothing about his feelings with him being too cowardly to tell you. They first came ten months ago at a get-together Sam roped him into attending. He was enraptured by your kindness and sharp wit, plus it didn’t hurt that you were breathtakingly beautiful and your cookies were heavenly. The two of you quickly became friends going to movies, museums, and adult arcades. You were exceedingly kind and understanding even when Bucky showed you his prosthetic arm.

He wanted to go further, but he didn’t want to ruin his friendship with you.

Though, maybe…

“I was wondering, would you like to stay at my apartment ‘til you get back on your feet? It has three bedrooms and two bathrooms so you won’t be ‘invading or unwelcome’. I know you’re thinking about it.”

“But what about the re-”

“No. It’s fine. You said it yourself. You need to rest and regroup.” He was going to be fine, he was the CTO of SHIELD Inc. Both Steve and Sam have stated that he should move to a condo or a penthouse, but he’s glad that he never listened.

You nodded your head and sighed,” Okay.”

Bucky grinned, “Good. Though it’s not for free. Your payment will be in your ‘out of this world’ cooking.”

You giggled, “It’s a deal!”

  You moved in three days later. It was delightful to not have the threat of financial instability peering over your shoulder.

It didn’t take long for you to settle into a routine. You woke up around 7 AM, did some exercises and meditation, made breakfast, had a nice conversation w/Bucky, did some job searching, researched different recipes to try out, baked some desserts for Bucky to share with his team, cook dinner, had a nice chat w/Bucky over dinner and wine, and Bucky would do clean up with a movie.

Both Bucky and your therapist noticed your dramatic increase in your mental and emotional health.

Your aunt noticed how serene you looked when finally had the chance to visit her. She also teased you about Bucky and how cute the two of you would look.

You deflected your aunt in good jest, but she was not wrong. You had started to see Bucky in a new light. He was devastatingly handsome, sexy even. He was tall (6’3” / 1.9m), broad shoulders and muscular arms that you always loved to be enveloped in, eyes like the Mediterranean after a storm, luxurious dark Chestnut brown that was delightful to the touch, and a soft, protruding belly that was perfect for cuddling (though Bucky was insecure about it though). He was your own giant teddy bear who you would love to love (and fuck).

Maybe the two of you could be something more.

  “You have to tell her, Buck.”

Bucky groaned internally at yet another one of Steve’s interventions. He hasn’t been able to focus at work since you’ve moved in with him. Sam was constantly calling him out on it, and now Steve has weighed in on the issue.

“C’mon, you need to let her know how you feel. Otherwise, you’re taking advantage of her spectacular cooking and baking skills.” Sam exclaimed while biting into a Levain Style Toffee Crunch Cookie.

Bucky knew that he should say something. He was planning on telling you on Christmas Eve about the gift he bought you last week.

Now, all he needed was courage.

“She probably feels the same way, Bucky. There’s no way she would’ve stayed with you this long if she didn’t like you.” Sam added while going for his third Salted Caramel Brownie.

“I know. It’s just that she deserves someone better.”

Steve scoffed, “For fuck’s sake, man! You are smart, caring, and funny! Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You have a lot to offer!”

Bucky gave Steve a smile, “Thanks, Stevie.”

“Sure. Now move over, I want some of those brownies.”

  Christmas Eve dinner was going well.

You were able to visit your aunt two days prior to which she teased you about Bucky yet again. You didn’t dare to bring up the sex dreams and times you masturbated in the shower wishing it was Bucky giving you such sensations.

You were biting into your teriyaki-glazed salmon when Bucky cleared his throat, “What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I’ve been such a coward,” Bucky uttered.

You put down your utensils, “Bucky-”

“No. I-I love you.”

What?

“I’ve loved you since that get together ten months ago,” You smiled at the memory,” I saw this kind, funny, beautiful woman who was amazing and was willing to put up with a loser like me. I know that I’m not in your league-”

You stood up,” Bucky, you’re not a coward and you’re not a loser. You have been nothing but kind and understanding this last few weeks. You let me stay with you when I was barely hanging on financially. You’ve respected my space without expecting anything in return. I know I’m not the best roommate, but-”

You were cut off by Bucky enveloping you in a tight hug, “Thank you,” he breathed.

Glancing up at him, you whispered, “I love you too.”

Bucky gathered his courage and captured your lips in a searing kiss. The kiss sent a bolt of electricity throughout your body. After a few moments, you pulled away and licked your lips in excitement.

“May I kiss you again?”

“Please.”

  The two of you were a tangled mess of limbs once you reached his bedroom. Bucky ripped off your top and chuckled at your attempt to cover yourself,” You have nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart.”

You backed onto the bed with a grin, unable to hide your giddiness as Bucky’s eyes darkened with lust and the look on his face was not unlike that of an apex predator.

Bucky took things slow, wanting to savor this moment. He worked you from top to bottom at an agonizingly slow pace. Soft, open-mouthed kisses marked his path smirking in pride at the sound of your moaning and squirming with each caress.

“Bucky please,” you begged as Bucky made his way to your chest.

Bucky tutted in response, “Let me adore you, love,” as he covered your breasts with hickeys, pinching and sucking your nipples, relishing the sounds of your moaning and mewling. He smirked at your praises as he made his way to your stomach.

He made sure to give your midsection extra love and care, “Utter perfection,” Bucky murmured as he kissed a stretch mark near your hipbone. Your heart soared at the declaration. You’ve never had a partner who complimented you let alone give you the time of day let alone a partner who actually put your needs first.

And in such a delicious manner.

Bucky was about to go in on your thighs when you stopped him,” Please, let me,” you panted as you got off the bed and undid his belt. You bit your lower lip once you got back his boxers.

He was a lot bigger than you thought.

“You sure about this, doll?” Bucky asked amusedly taking in your raised eyebrows and a sly grin.

Nodding eagerly, you laid your head in his awaiting lap and gave his dick an open-mouthed kiss followed by a long, slow lick to his weeping tip.

You were careful not to go too deep, not wanting a repeat of that one Spring Break. “Fuck, doll,” Bucky praised as you worked his dick like a lollipop. You alternated between playing with his balls and sucking on what you could fit in your mouth.

Bucky bellowed when you lightly scraped him with your teeth. He never thought that someone like you would give him the time of day. Ever since Bucky left the Army, it seemed that no one would even look at him, even before they knew about the prosthetic left arm. He was about to give up all hope of finding anyone who accepts him when you came into his life. You were his light, but you were not afraid to be imperfect. He could be vulnerable with you in a way that he has never been with anyone, even Stevie.

You continued your ministrations for a couple more minutes until Bucky gently tugged your hair, “Sorry doll, I won’t make it if keep workin’ me like this, and I want to give you my first gift this evening.”

You pouted but relented as Bucky motioned you back to the bed. You parted your legs and moaned when Bucky gave your slit a long, slow lick after kissing and nipping your inner thighs.

“Better than any baked good. Fuck! I could get addicted to this!” You giggled at the statement loving the praise.

Bucky attacked your folds with a masterfully executed battle plan. He switched between licking and sucking your clit with insane precision, scissoring your folds with his thick fingers (sometimes metal ones), and playing with your juices.

You were on Cloud Nine. Each of his movements sent wave after wave of euphoria throughout your body. Bucky’s tongue and fingers made your hair stand on end and bolts of electricity shot through your veins and danced along your skin. You grabbed a fistful of his luxurious hair and arched your back towards him.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Bucky rumbled.

The dam broke.

“Bucky!” you shouted as Bucky lapped up your juices and crawled up to caress your face.

“You sure you want this, doll?” Bucky asked.

“Please Bucky,” You begged as he pushed himself into you inch by inch pausing once he filled you.

“So fucking tight!” Bucky breathed huskily.

“Bucky. I. Need. You.” You murmured between kisses to his neck and jaw. He started out at a slow pace, making sure you were used to his size but he intensified his thrusts once you began moaning in pleasure and begged him to go harder.

Each thrust hit you just right, sending you higher and higher, but Bucky made sure not to send you over the edge (not yet). He decided to add to your sweet, sweet torture by kissing your neck, shoulders, and collarbone. You didn’t know how much you could take, but at the same time, you didn’t want to end.

Thankfully, Bucky heard your mental pleas. He worked your clit and you came with another shout as he nipped the juncture between your neck and collarbone. Bucky came soon after with a primal roar.

Laying on Bucky’s bed and looking out the window, you saw a thick yet gentle snowfall. You were about to make a nice (if not a little snarky) Christmas remark when you felt a weight on your chest. Casting your eyes downward you found a silver snowflake on a thick silver chain with sapphires in the middle and on each of its six points. It was beautiful.

You nearly swiveled your head in shock. “Bucky you di-”

Bucky caressed your cheek and kissed you, “You’ve been so kind to me since we’ve met and I wanted to give you something as wonderful as you.”

“Well, since you put that way. I guess you’ll have to wait until tomorrow for your present.” you teased.

Bucky snaked his right arm around your midsection, “It might not be ‘til Noon at best. I’m gonna need another round.” he crooned as he kissed your neck.

Part of you wondered what the hell all those people were thinking when they didn’t give Bucky a second glance. Well, it matters not. Bucky was yours and you would be damned before you let him go.

Taglist: @giorno-plays-piano​ @lookiamtrying​ @jtargaryen18​ @sapphirescrolls​ @jobean12-blog​ @sweeterthanthis​ @gotnofucks​ @mculibrary​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @golden-ariess​ @navegandoaciegas​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @tilltheendwilliwrite​ @imanuglywombat​ @bucky-the-thigh-slayer​ @navybrat817​ @anyatheladyclown​ @buckysbunny​ @nacho-bucky​ @donutloverxo​ @stephanieromanoff​ @threeminutesoflife​ @angrybirdcr​ @angrythingstarlight​ @chixkencxrry​ @hurricanerin​ @marvelfansworld @the-soulofdevil​ @captain--barnes​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @thebanprincess​ @winteralpine​ @leslie2898​ @buttercandy16​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​ @hevans-angel

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Ateez: GF Having PMS

PMS: Pre-menstrual syndrome. Aka, those 1-2 weeks before a girl gets her period, they have symptoms like acne, bloating, cramps, food cravings, fatigue, increased sexual libido, mood swings, tender breasts and irritability among other things. It's not actually when you are on your period, for those of you who don't know. Also girls: it's totally normal and don't feel bad about any of these symptoms or talking about them ♡♡♡♡

Kim Hongjoong:

Hongjoong didn't know what was going on with you. One minute you're happy and wanting to cuddle, and then a minute later you're mad for no reason. It was making him angry honestly. You two have been dating for almost a month, he thought you were past the push and pull game already.

"What is wrong with you Y/N?!" He blurted out one day when your mood swings were too much.

He felt really bad when you started crying though.

"I'm sorry... it's not your fault. I get like this when I'm PMSing and I don't even notice...I'm sorry." You said while wiping tears out of your face.

Now it clicked in his brain and he felt even more bad. Carefully he sat down next to you and rubbed your back.

"Hey it's ok, don't worry. I didn't mean to raise my voice at you, so I'm sorry for that."

He pulled you into a hug and just held you there till you stopped crying.

"Better now?" He asked once you calmed down to which you nodded.

"Good. Now do you wanna go get ice cream?"

He got better at dealing with your mood swings every time they happened. He learned to back off when you were irritated and to hold you when you were sad.

Park Seonghwa:

Technically you weren't on your period, but for some reason you only got cramps during PMS and they were horrible.

All Seonghwa heard was "cramps" and he was very much on it. He ran out the door to the nearest store, bought a heating pad, bought chamomile tea to make for you, ibuprofen for the pain and even picked up a cute teddy bear for you.

So then Seonghwa handed you the bear while he placed the the heating pad on your tummy and gave you a glass of water for you to take one of the pills. The tea was already being brewed in the kitchen. Making sure it wasn't too hot to burn you, he took it to you and insisted on helping you sip on it.

"Are you feeling any better?" He asked you with a lot of tenderness.

You nodded and smiled at him. "Yes I am. Thank you, you're the perfect boyfriend."

You asked him to cuddle with you, which he was happy to oblige. However he made sure not to squeeze you too hard, worried that he might accidentally put pressure on your tummy and make your cramps worse.

Jeong Yunho:

You were fatigued, just laying on your bed, blankets covering you. It was well past 11 a.m and you still didn't feel the energy to get up. Your plan was to lay in bed for the whole day, or if you had to get up, do very minimal activity.

Suddenly a loud door slamming open and a loud:

"Honey! I'm home!!"

Yunho's energetic voice resonated through the house.

"Baby?! Where are you?!" He asked loudly.

You groaned, unable to even tell him where you were.

"There you are! So I got the day off and I thought we could- is something wrong?" He was worried when he saw your low state.

"I'm just really tired that's all. I don't feel like getting out of bed." You responded.

He was really worried though, wondering if you were sick or something. That's when you explained you just had fatigue due to PMS and just wanted rest.

"I'm sorry we can't go out like you wanted to."

"No! It's ok. We can just stay indoors and watch movies all day long. I'm always in a cuddling mood you know." He said as he joined you on the bed and wrapped his arms around you.

Kang Yeosang:

Movie nights with your boyfriend were a regular occurrence. You guys rarely payed attention to the movie, you both ended up talking very comfortably to each other. This particular night, your PMS symptom of tender breasts was acting up more than normal. Usually, you could go about your day without it bothering you, tonight it was too much though. And unconsciously your hands went in your shirt, kneading at them.

"Uh.....what are you doing?" Yeosang's voice snapped you back to reality.

"Oh.....my boobs are sore." You simply answered.

Yeosang just nodded like he understood and just looked back at the tv as he sipped on his apple juice. Wanting to mess with him a bit, you asked:

"Want to help me out?"

The juice box suddenly flattened as he sucked in all of the juice, flustered at your question. He looked at you with a look that asked "seriously?" You simply pouted at him.

"Ok." He shrugged and put his juice down.

"Wait what?" It was now your turn to be flustered.

Choi San:

Days leading up to your period were super annoying. Not only did you get killer headaches randomly, but your body decides to bloat out of nowhere and so the jeans that fit you perfectly yesterday now couldn't zip up.

"Oh fuck off!" You huffed out when the zipper ended up breaking from you pulling on it so much.

"I didn't even do anything??" San's voice from the bedroom reminded you that you weren't alone.

"Not you! I was talking about my jeans!" You explained.

"Why what's wrong?" He asked.

"They don't fit and the zipper broke." You whined.

San came inside the bathroom, seeing what the problem was.

"They fit fine yesterday?" He was confused about what happened.

And so a mini lesson on your body changes during PMS ensued. San ate up all the information for next time.

"Why don't I just buy you stretchy pants so you're more comfortable?" He suggested.

"Aww that's so nice of you." You awed at his kind gesture.

"But between you and me, I'd rather have you with no pants on." He winked at you.

You grabbed a towel and threw it at him.

"Choi San! Now you fuck off!"

Song Mingi:

You were avoiding seeing your boyfriend for the past 2 days, feeling embarrassing about the tiny breakouts that popped out on your cheeks. You didn't like looking at them and hated if anyone saw you like that. But Mingi was clingy and couldn't go one day without seeing you and so one day you were startled when he tapped on your bedroom window and then proceeded to crawl his way in.

"What are you doing here?!" You screeched as you covered your face with the blanket.

"I needed to make sure you weren't dead or kidnapped!" He responded as he got up from the floor.

He looked at your weird position and asked what it was about, and you refused to answer. Mingi just strode over to you and pulled the blanket off you.

"Don't! I look horrible!" You tried reaching for something else to cover up.

"You look fine. What are you talking about?" He was genuine confused what you meant.

"No I don't! Look at this! Stupid breakouts! I hate it!" You crossed your arms and looked down.

Mingi's heart dropped at your words.

"Honey listen.." He sat down next to you and held your hand. "Those things are totally normal. Everyone gets them once in a while, so don't feel bad. You're still beautiful no matter what."

He smiled brightly at you, hoping to cheer you up. You smiled back and didn't feel so self conscious about it anymore.

Jung Wooyoung:

Wooyoung honestly loved annoying you with his love. Usually you were very patient with him, except when you were PMSing, then you were irritable almost every day and had no patience for anyone, including him. If you think that'd stop him and leave you alone, you're wrong. That's when he likes annoying you the most. He thinks you look like cute whenever you yell at him to stop or to leave you alone.

"Who's the cutest kitten here?" He said in a sing song voice as he ruffled your hair.

"Stooop!" You whined out, getting annoyed.

"Oooh feisty kitten! Maybe if I tickle your-"

"Noooo!" You moved away from him when he tried to touch your face.

"Y/N baby.." He continued.

"Go away!" You swatted his hand away and marched to the bathroom to cool off for a little bit.

Wooyoung laughed at you stomping away in annoyance.

"One day she might actually kill you." Yeosang pointed out.

"Nah she won't, she loves me too much. Besides, isn't she hot when she's angry?" Wooyoung said.

"I seriously hold onto my theory that you're a masochist and a weirdo." Yeosang shook his head.

Choi Jongho:

Honestly you felt blessed that your only PMS symptom was weird cravings that turned you into a foodie. You had heard horror stories from your friends about how their PMS was unbearable, so you considered yourself lucky. In fact, sometimes you even forgot it was a PMS symptom.

Jongho never noticed anything unusual about your cravings, thinking you were hungry or something, until you pulled out a really weird combination that seemed to last days.

"You're eating that again?" He asked as he stared at the food in front of you.

"Yeah. I've been really craving it recently."

Jongho's heart stopped for a moment, panic rushing through him.

"Oh my God! I think I got you pregnant!" He exclaimed, his hands going to his head.

You bursted out laughing at that.

"What? No you didn't you silly goose." It was so amusing to you that he came to that conclusion.

"Then how else do you explain it?!" You honestly felt bad at how he was freaking out.

Pulling out a chair, you gestured for him to sit on it.

"Make yourself comfortable Jongho. Time for a little biology lesson."

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

[peralta-guaranteed]

hc of amy having a bad day and struggling with mac? say he’s very clingy or also upset

Guess what, this accidentally turned into a fic too. And it kinda shifted into 'Jake and Amy having a bad day and struggling with Mac for very different reasons'... I hope you still like it!

(read it on AO3)

It had become evident pretty early on that when Mac got sick, he gravitated towards Amy much more. Sure, Jake was also sometimes good for snotty cuddles and cough-soothing baths, but at some point he would call for his mom, or whine and spread his arms towards her with his legs kicking in frustration, and it said a lot about how much Jake has grown that he didn't even hesitate to hand him over without acting hurt. Maybe the blissful calm washing over Mac's face as soon as Amy was hugging him helped with that, too. It was such a wonderful thing to see after hours of crying, coughing, sneezing, whining and general sad pouting that only a Peralta-baby is capable of, Jake barely had the energy to worry about how it felt to be so blatantly rejected by his little boy.

It'd also become evident that Mac’s clingy phase had started a bit earlier than most of their parenting books prophesied. If Amy was home, he wanted to be on her lap, or in her arms, or wrapping his little arms around her leg as she tried to work in the kitchen. Jake got “NO!”ed and waved away far more often than he was asked for a hug himself, and again, it took a lot of newfound maturity not to let that get to him - and maybe he did not have enough of that yet, because it absolutely got to him in quieter moments.

(He knew it’d pass, like any phase in a toddler’s life passes at some point. Like the phase of Mac refusing anything but that one specific carrot puree passed, or the phase of him being unable to sleep anywhere except cuddled in between them, waking up as soon as they tried to carry him back to his own bed.)

The real trouble starts when both these situations collide.

-*-

Mac woke them up at 4:30 sharp, two hours before Amy’s first alarm, crying so hard it almost sounded like screaming. When Jake tiptoed into the nursery, he had to ignore the frustrated shouts of Nonono and Mamam that he was almost used to by now, to actually check what was wrong. Probably another ear infection, he realised after seeing the symptoms they’d become very familiar with during the last time they’d battled through one of those. They had to bring him to the doctor to be sure, but he already knew they were looking forward to at least two days of unsoothable crying and fussing.

He also knew that things would be hell for Amy.

In theory, it would make far more sense for him to call in sick to take care of Mac. As much as he loved his detective work, the simple fact that his wife outranked him (and thus outdid him in both salary and responsibilities, obviously) meant that if one of them had to take a few days off, it should be him first and foremost. In practice, however, Mac was going to be even more insufferable than just from his sickness if left alone with him at the moment. He was still crying for Amy as Jake lifted him out of the cot - he would be screaming bloody murder if she closed the door of the apartment behind her.

“Earache?” Amy asked already as Jake stepped back into the bedroom, Mac’s wailing lessening only slightly as he stretched his arms out toward her. She pulled him to her as Jake sighed and nodded.

“I think so. I’ll take him to the doc when they open.” He tried to offer, but he knew Amy would refuse it anyway.

“No, I can do it. I’ll call in sick - you get back to sleep for work.”

“I’ll try.” He sighed again as he dropped onto his back while Amy was sitting up to sway Mac, who’d actually quieted down into little sobs and sniffles in her arms. “I’m sorry, Ames.”

“It’s nobody’s fault he’s sick, especially not yours.”

“Yeah, but I wish I could help more. If he wasn’t- you know.”

“I know.” Amy let her free hand not holding Mac drift through Jake’s sleep-messy curls. She knew that, as much as he tried to pretend it wasn’t bothering him, he secretly hated the thought of his son rejecting him in any way, even if it was as nonsensical as a clingy toddler phase.

Luckily it didn’t take long for him to actually fall back asleep with her hand in his hair, and she carefully wiggled out of bed to let him rest while settling down with a still crying Mac in his nursery rocking chair.

-*-

They got to get ready together as they usually did in the morning, at least - even if Amy was only getting dressed to drive to the pediatrician and straight back again. She’d already called Holt and explained the situation before Jake handed her a mug of coffee, and Mac had been, at the least, not crying for the last ten minutes while sitting in his playpen in the living room. Maybe things wouldn’t be as bad as last time.

“I can pick up whatever the doc prescribes on my lunch break.” Jake smiled at her, ruefully, and she considered telling him again that it was okay, that she could do it - but something told her to keep her options of at least a few minutes not alone with a sick toddler open.

She desperately needed that option when lunchtime came around.

Doctor Maurice had quickly confirmed their suspicions and told her that there wasn’t much more they could do than wait it out, keep an eye on his fever and medicate with ibuprofen and warm compresses. Not that any of that had helped. When Mac wasn’t crying, he was screaming, and when he wasn’t screaming, he wanted to be close to her, but he couldn’t lie down without the pain getting worse, so simply plonking down on the couch with him was out of the question. She’d let him breastfeed far more than had been their norm now that he was slowly getting weaned, because it seemed to give him some relief at least, as well as quieting him for a blissful moment. But then the infection had travelled to his stomach as well, the same way it had last time, and he staunchly refused any and all food or milk. She’d seriously started considering foregoing the diapers completely and just letting him play in the empty bathtub so she could rinse him off from time to time, because five dirty diapers in under twenty minutes had to be some sort of new record.

So when Jake texted her he was on his way, with a picture of another box of ibuprofen and that herbal steam-bath mix that had helped last time, she sent a silent thank you prayer to anyone who wanted to listen. And she mumbled a not quite as silent thank you against Jake’s lips before he could even get his shoes off at the door.

“I got you one of the good bagel sandwiches for lunch, too.” He said as he hugged her and combed through her messy hair.

“I love you so much.” She hadn’t even realised that the only thing in her stomach so far was still the cup of coffee he’d made her this morning.

He grinned as he put the deli paper bag on the kitchen counter and went over to Mac’s playpen, to say hello to a currently only softly whining toddler smacking an innocent teddy against a pile of soft fabric blocks. Amy followed to wrap her arms around his waist from behind and rest her head against his back, taking in a few deep breaths of Jake, of something that didn’t smell of diarrhea, moist compresses, milk-hiccups and spit up.

“Also Holt gave me an hour for lunch, so if you want to take a nap or something-”

“God.” Amy groaned with pure happiness as Jake turned around in her embrace. “Marry me, Mr. Perfect.”

“Any place, any time, babe.” He kissed the crown of her head while returning her hug, sniffing her hair with a chuckle. “But maybe a shower first before the big day.”

“Rude.” Amy mumbled with her face pressed against his chest. “I rescind the proposal.”

His chuckle turned into a laugh at that, and he slowly unraveled her arms around him. “Nap first, then shower, how’s that sound? Then a bagel. I’ll give Mac his lunch.”

“Good luck with that.” She sighed before giving him another quick kiss and making a beeline for the bedroom.

-*-

She’d hopped straight from bed into the bathroom later, relishing in the feeling of the hot water washing away any aches left over after that much needed nap. Alas, when she stepped out of the oh-so-peaceful bathroom, she was met with a wall of sound.

Mac was wailing, hard, as Jake swayed him back and forth, holding another warm compress against his little ear, and trying to make soothing noises despite the shrill screams of No and MAMA! straight into his face.

“Shsshhshsh, hey, it’s okay, bud, it’s okay. I know you don’t like me much at the moment, but it’s gonna be okay, and mom is coming back soon-”

He stopped as he noticed her stepping into the room, giving her an apologetic smile as she took Mac from him. The wailing turned into regular crying at least, albeit still loud.

“I’m sorry babe - did he wake you up? He won’t eat either.”

“I set an alarm, actually. So you won’t be back late.” Amy sat down on the couch and pulled up her shirt (freshly changed after the shower, and god had that felt good as well). Mac latched onto her breast almost immediately, and a wonderful quiet settled across the room, only his little snuffling and suckling noises breaking through.

Jake’s face was unreadable before he turned towards the kitchen to plate her bagel, but that stoic, almost empty expression told her enough anyway. She grabbed his wrist as he set the plate down on the couch table, pulled softly until he sat down next to her, running her fingers through his hair again to comfort him.

“You know it’s not true, right?”

“Hm?” Jake looked up at her after watching Mac, who finally seemed to calm down completely in her arm, with a vacant look in his eyes.

“It’s not true that he doesn’t like you. He loves you just as much as me. It’s just a difficult phase.”

“I know that.” Jake’s attempt at a smile was still sad enough, and she wiped across the corner of it with the soft tip of her thumb.

“And I love you too. So much.”

“I know that.” And this new smile seemed to turn out right, at least. “You wanna re-marry me, after all.” He teased as he leant his head against her shoulder, looking down at Mac again with a much less forlorn expression.

“Hey, I rescinded that proposal!” She quipped back, falling into their usual banter easily now that she was rested enough and sure that Jake felt better as well. “But I might consider re-re-proposing again if you promise to pick up Polish for dinner.”

“I knew you only wanted me for all the free food delivery.”

“I also need you for other things.” Amy said as she sat up a bit straighter to finish Mac’s feeding, Jake’s head lifting off of her shoulder with the movement. “Like burping your kid. I really don’t want spit-up down this fresh shirt.”

“Aye aye, Sergeant.” Jake joked, already scrabbling for the burp cloth thrown over the armchair next to them and taking Mac out of her arms.

She watched him as he expertly settled the little, squirming bundle against his chest, the swaying and patting motion almost second nature by now, ducking his head down for a quick sniff of that perfect toddler hair scent. He’d have to leave for the precinct soon enough, and she certainly wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the afternoon probably being a reprise of her entire morning, and she didn’t even want to think about the night or next day to come.

Life with a toddler was unpredictable. Almost nothing was in her control anymore. But, as she’d learned over the years, as long as she was with the right people, she could handle anything. And Jake Peralta proved, again and again, that he was the right person for her.

[uwua3]

hello! it's me again!! um.. can i request a day at an amusement park with taichi please? i feel like he doesn't get enough love.

thank you so much for requesting, clover~ ♡ please enjoy this super fluffy piece, just for you~ ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ♡°◌̊ i put lots n lots of #LOVE in it! <3 i love you with all my heart!!!

summary: even cupid deserves love, too!

warnings: bad relationship (slight mention), envy/jealousy, loneliness, misunderstandings

author’s note: happy valentine’s eve eve, my friends! i’m sooo #Happy !! i love valentine’s so much ♡(*´･ω･)(･ω･`*)♡ if you are Free on February 14, i am here waiting with flowers <3 (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞⋆**💐 (please celebrate v-day with me TT) ~ in celebration of my favorite holiday, please smile at this fluffy headcanon of taichi as the lovely, adorable cupid! 🏹💗 i love you all!

word count: 3,567

music: heart attack – loona (chuu)

stupid cupid.

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

every year, taichi spent valentine’s day alone

february 14th was another day of being absolutely single. but, for him, there was nothing better than seeing love in the air

especially as the “cupid” working all february long!

as cupid, taichi looked forward to becoming the epitome of pink & red hearts every year. it was a job no one else except him could do; who else to predict the probability of relationships than the matchmaker himself?

taichi loved love! he always could tell when people had crushes on others growing up like it was second nature. he couldn’t even count on both hands how many successful relationships he’s gotten together

love came easy to taichi. it was everything valentine’s was: floating heart balloons, bouquets of red roses, sights only romance movies would show, chocolates that came in heart-shaped boxes, poems from the heart, and so much more~!

the moment taichi set his eyes on someone, it was like he was the one who loaded the arrow and fired it. he knew who liked who, it was what he did best. his intuition was second to none, he was the amusement park’s cupid

for a month, all taichi had to do was sit at a booth and predict a person’s love life leading up to valentine’s day. it was easy money considering his success rate was 99%!

(we don’t talk about the time taichi accidentally caused a break-up... but, that’s beside the point!) (at least they’re happy now...)

yet, there was one thing wrong: taichi was loveless

despite being made of love, breathing love, living out of love, taichi had never celebrated valentine’s. it seemed like all the arrows missed him completely

taichi had never experienced any of the things that made love love, but that was okay! sure, it was a little lonely seeing happy couples all month but... it was worth it to see the smile on people’s faces! love wasn’t just romantic, platonic love was super important!

still... taichi forced himself to smile to apply the heart-shaped blush to his cheeks. there was a part of him, a hole in his heart, that longed to know what valentine’s felt like

FEBRUARY 1 — taichi fluttered the pair of angel wings excitedly, happy to be back in his valentine’s attire. he couldn’t help but jump up and down, squealing about how good it was to be “back in business”

even without his usual pink & red contacts, taichi’s eyes would’ve had heart-shaped pupils with how much love he had for this holiday season! as he greeted his coworkers for the first time in a year, taichi stood out amongst the crowd of workers listening to their orders for the day

as usual, taichi would be the cupid at a small, glittery booth that was louder than life itself. sure, it was a very discreet and low-budget set up, but it always was a fan favorite to catch this valentine’s season

taichi couldn’t help but run off to his station the moment he was dismissed, his wings flapping behind him and sling of heart arrows jostling. he almost slid past his stool but skidded, luckily landing in the right place with a bright grin on his face

when the afternoon officially began with people beginning to come in to the amusement park, taichi tapped his feet with exhiliration. showtime!

“welcome~! find out your love fortune this valentine’s season!” taichi happily advertised, putting his heart and soul into gathering the attention of the masses. slowly but surely, people began flocking to his side, unable to resist the teen’s infectious love and happiness to be here

it was like taichi raised the bow & arrow and fired into the squad. it captured the hearts of a hundred as people sat down across from him, seeking his love & relationship advice

there was a multitude of ways taichi could make someone’s day. whether it was reading love oracle cards or mixing up candy hearts, taichi loved putting on a show for people to enjoy

during a gap between couple sessions, taichi leaned his cheek against his hand and quietly whined to himself. he had recently just met such an adorable and lovey-dovey pair, even he felt sick with how much sweetness there was!

taichi wished he had that... before looking up. suddenly, his heart skipped a beat

it was like the gods & goddesses of love had heard his prayers because today was the first day he saw you

someone passed by the forming line. you hadn’t even noticed him, but taichi had certainly noticed you. when the moment passed and you disappeared, taichi had to focus before getting back into his cupid persona, smiling charmingly like nothing had happened

but, something did happen. taichi had just experienced love at first sight!

taichi hadn’t even had time to load his arrow before you hit him with his

it’s not like he was going to see you again, though... taichi’s loveless life wasn’t a romance film. nor a sappy piece of literature, unfortunately

though, for once, cupid wished he had someone to share this special month with like everyone else

FEBRUARY 3 — taichi was in charge of the valentine’s decorations comimg up. this was perhaps, the best news he had received in his entire life

there was something about folding a million origami hearts that made taichi’s own heart grow a thousand times larger. it was calming during his breaks to fold and fold again, with no thought process behind a skill that came naturally

as taichi cut the colorful paper into the perfect size with ease, he was humming the latest pop song on the radio before he heard something that made his heart break

arguing?! in the loveliest season of the year?!

taichi glanced around and noticed a distinct couple. the pair was fighting rather publicly despite the other person trying to keep their voice down and calm their partner down. before taichi could turn away and mind his own business, they sighed and turned in his direction

taichi felt his breath hitch in his throat as his hands froze, the paper suddenly bent in his tight grip. it was you, the person from two days ago!

so much for it being an one-time thing... taichi could already feel the butterflies in his stomach just at the thought of this being fate. twice in a row? did this mean something?

as taichi tried to search through his brain for what the chick flicks and rom-coms liked to say, you had already left with the person you were arguing with. as they walked ahead of you, you hung your head low with the shame and embarrassment of public humiliation

for some reason, taichi hated seeing you like that despite not knowing anything about you. he was irrationally frustrated as well; how could anyone just make you sad like that and not apologize?

taichi figured he could do one last love reading for the day

when you passed by his booth, you didn’t notice how taichi had left a surprise in your jacket pocket

you exhaled softly when you arrived home, leaning on the door and closing your eyes. when you put your hands in your pockets, you paused as you felt something between your fingers

pulling it out, you noticed a small red origami heart. inside, was a message in a messy, hurried scrawl

“leave them, you deserve better. be with someone who makes you smile! — cupid ♡”

despite everything, you smiled

FEBRUARY 5 — taichi barely had time before there was a person at his booth: you

before taichi could even process that you were real, you spoke: “i broke up with them.”

taichi blinked. this was the first thing he’d learn about you, and it wasn’t even your name! this type of news usually wouldn’t make taichi feel like this, but he was honestly over the moon. he didn’t need to know anything else to know your previous partner had little to no consideration for your feelings

he’d definitely be a better boyfr—wait, what?!

“oh.” taichi said lamely, but his heart jumped when you laughed. it was a nice sound, one that made him think of giant teddy bears and sugary sweet candy. taichi wondered how hard the arrow hit, it must’ve gotten bullseye

“what’s your name?” you took the words right out of his mouth, and taichi blushed under the attention. despite being the main focus of the valentine’s event every year, it was different coming from you. it was like... you were really seeing him

“cupid, at your service!” taichi quickly jumped into character, bowing with a flourish. if he was in an anime, he’d be sparkling with rose effects right now, taichi thought proudly

but, you didn’t clap or amuse him like his other customers. instead, you observed him with a questioning look. it was like you were picturing him without the valentine’s attire, without the wings, bow & arrow, and glitter across his face

“i meant your real name.”

taichi blanked. you were a surprise; he had never been this speechless in his entire life... it was honestly kinda embarrassing for him, taichi was flustered for once

“but, why do you want to know?”

“because you make me smile.”

when taichi told you, you said it aloud and he finally understood what it meant to have a crush

all it took was one conversation and taichi was head over heels for you

FEBRUARY 7 — taichi had never been a target of love before. no one had ever liked him, nor had he ever developed a serious crush on someone before. he was far too busy fixing everyone’s disaster of a love life, never mind his own!

yet, it was like the world aligned so you two could meet. taichi swore the stars aligned, fate was working its magic so you both would meet at this giant amusement park during the most romantic month of the year

even though it had only been a week or so since taichi first met you, it felt like you two knew each other for your whole lives. after getting over the fact you made his heart beat way too fast, taichi quickly warmed up to you and vise versa

while you only came to actually thank cupid for helping you get out of a bad relationship, you realized you very much liked the person behind the angel wings. taichi was everything you expected and more, with his personality that reminded you valentine’s maybe wasn’t so bad

speaking of, taichi was absolutely in hysterics when he found out your stance on valentine’s

“what?! what do you mean you don’t....” taichi took in a deep breath, as if it pained him to continue. “you don’t like valentine’s day?!”

you knew it was ironic to befriend literal cupid when you didn’t have a taste for romance to begin with, but you tried to hide your entertained expression with a lighthearted eye roll

“i’ve never celebrated it. it seems like a capitalistic excuse to buy a bunch of overpriced stuff, to be honest.”

you physically winced when you heard the crack of taichi’s poor, poor heart. his puppy eyes widened at your revelation and leaned forward, uncharacteristically serious for his cupid persona. luckily, he was taking a fifteen-minute break so the curtains were drawn to hide his immense sadness

“b-but!” taichi spluttered, his brain running a million arguments at once, which was way too fast for his mouth. “it’s valentine’s day! it’s sooo romantic! love is everywhere! how can you not love love?”

you thought about it some more before shrugging, crossing your legs and trying to not break taichi’s heart even more. the poor cupid, it looked like he was going to cry like a baby

“why do you love love then?”

only you could render taichi silent. he had never been truly asked that question before, nor had he reflected on why he was the first person to become cupid every year

when taichi struggled to answer, you waited before he started speaking. it lacked the usual wonder and excitement he always had, it seemed like it was almost... personal

“i love love because... love is who i am. i didn’t...” taichi stopped, as if considering sharing with you before continuing, not giving you the second to tell him he didn’t have to. he wanted to, anyways

“i didn’t have love to call my own, at least, not the way i wanted it. so, i made my own love. i love people, i love the world, i love everything. everything deserves love! just because i love a lot, doesn’t make it any less special.”

you thought taichi would’ve said the expensive bouquets florists made of the prettiest roses. or the largest stuffed animals holding stitched plush hearts in their paws. or sunsets with classical music playing in the background like a nicholas sparks film. not... not that

“okay you sap, maybe valentine’s day isn’t that bad if you like it, then.”

taichi’s wings fluttered and he sat up, a smile upon his face

“i promise, valentine’s day is the best!”

now, that i’ve met you, taichi thought

FEBRUARY 9 — taichi came to work only to find a bouquet of flowers upon his booth. they were the grandest displays of affection yet, with the best-smelling hundred petal roses he had ever imagined

you, on the other hand, weren’t so impressed

“cupid, have you stolen the heart of another?” you said in the tone of a dramatic shakespearian actor, pretending to swoon when taichi hid his face in the flowers

“i... usually get flowers like these when i work, it’s nothing, really.” taichi mumbled, holding the flowers to his chest as a warm feeling spread across his body. he usually never got flowers, this was the first time someone had found his charms alluring enough to gift him such a pricey present

one look and you already knew he was lying. your heart fell a little when you noticed how happy taichi was, but you pretended to not care as you winked at him

“oh~ taichi has a lover now, huh?” he giggled in response, adamantly denying it despite holding the bouquet like it was his most prized possession. you glared a little harder at the red roses more than you’d like to admit

why were you feeling so... jealous? it’s not like you wanted the flowers or anything so—oh

when taichi turned that lovesick gaze towards you, you suddenly felt like you were on a sugar rush

when taichi performed his role better than ever with his newfound love for all things traditionally romantic, you watched off to the side

you reached up to your chest to feel the arrow, but to no avail

have you fallen for cupid?

FEBRUARY 11 — taichi shuffled the cards professionally, but his behavior was anything but that. the last time you had sat on the other side of the booth was days ago, but here you were, waiting for your love reading

when taichi met you, you weren’t a person who heavily believed in love. romance wasn’t something that made you happy nor did valentine’s day make you count down to february 14th like him. yet, you suddenly paid for a reading

you stared expectantly at him, your face once again unreadable and hard to distinguish. even if taichi was friends with you, he never mastered the art of reading you like a romance book. it was one of his most prominent talents, too, so it was strange why he couldn’t

you only showed him what you wanted him to see, unfortunately. regardless, taichi did the whole shebang, theatrics and all even if you had seen it a thousand times by now

“welcome to cupid’s love booth! let me read your love life~” taichi laid out the pink cards in a pretty, attention-grabbing manner before asking you to pick three. you did so relatively quickly, which taichi admired you for (he had once sat waiting for someone to pick, but they had taken nearly ten minutes. there was only so much cupid could do)

when taichi flipped them over, it was surprising, to say the least. of course, you didn’t understand a thing as you waited for him to explain. however, taichi fell quiet, reading the cards with furrowed eyebrows

“awww, come on, cupid, give it to me straight. am i destined to be single forever?” you joked but a part of you worried about taichi’s reaction. even though he wore his heart on his sleeve and always expressed his feelings, he had never reacted this negatively to a reading before

taichi laughed at your joke, but it felt like a customer service one. it seemed strained and before you could ask if he was okay, taichi’s brilliant wink put him back as the amusement park’s favorite cupid

“is there someone you’re not telling me about~? it seems like you have a friend you like, am i right?” taichi had hit bullseye; how did he know just from those cards? you didn’t answer, just offering an innocent shrug as if you didn’t care. you very much did, though

“so i am! i’m seeing that you’ve recently liked them, ahhh, young love~” taichi sighed, as if in love with the concept already. “looks like love’s in the air, my dear, so don’t worry about a thing! they like you back, without a doubt.”

you looked up at this, eyes wide before returning to your nonchalant state. taichi wondered what that could’ve meant even as he tried to maintain his shaking hands

“they do? how do you know?”

taichi held a finger to his lips, as if it was a secret only cupid could know

“shhh, i just know. trust me, they’d be a fool to not like you back.”

you could tell it wasn’t cupid just talking, and you knew what you had to do

“i’ll ask them to be my valentine tomorrow, then.”

taichi’s heart broke but... as long as you were happy, how could he say no?

FEBRUARY 13 — taichi wished he had a valentine. if only you liked him, maybe he would’ve asked you, his first crush, to be his this month (and even longer). but, you were somewhere else, asking someone else to be your valentine

taichi frowned, finding it hard to maintain his happy excitement forever as the line began becoming longer and longer. taichi huffed, looking around as if you’d suddenly appear. but, taichi’s life wasn’t a movie...

“hey cupid, why so sad?”

taichi turned around to see the biggest plushie he had seen in his entire life. it covered your entire frame, with the dog ears flopping over its giant black eyes cutely. in its arms was a red heart with the cursive words “i like you!” in white stitching

before taichi could even react, you peeked over the plush’s shoulder with a slightly embarrassed look

“can you take it already? i’ve been getting weird looks from everyone i’ve walked by.”

taichi took the plush and placed it on the seat next to him, about to speak before you pulled out an even bigger bouquet from behind your back

they weren’t just red roses. they were a rainbow of them, ranging from pink, white, yellow, blue, red, and even black! taichi could barely even count how many there were before you passed it to him, doing your best to not pass out and die from how sappy this all was

“see, these are even better than the bouquet you got last time. i clearly am the better, uh, person for you, you know?” taichi didn’t have the time to respond before you turned around again and presented a display of chocolates, all of them heart-shaped and tied in ribbon

“you like chocolate, right? yeah, of course you do, i also got—” before you could keep rambling, taichi gently held your hand. your heartrate skyrocketed and you froze, unsure of what to do when taichi was looking at you with his heart eyes

“you got all of this... for me?” taichi was genuinely amazed and flattered, a light dust of red across his cheeks at how romantic all of this was. you blushed as well, looking away bashfully

“i mean, yeah. i don’t see anyone else around.”

“but... you don’t like valentine’s day?”

you sighed, knowing the next words out of your mouth are word he’s going to never let you forget

“but, i like you.”

“but... i thought you liked someone else?”

“stupid cupid, i like you. only you.”

taichi stood up, not as cupid, but as himself. when he softly turned your head towards him, he smiled gently, squeezing your hands with all the appreciation in the world

“i like you, too. with or without the romance, i would’ve said yes to being your valentine no matter what you did.”

you breathed a sigh of relief. sure, you didn’t love love like taichi, but... he deserved it

“i have an idea.” you proposed, leaning in closer as taichi awaited your response with bated breath

“you should open a kissing booth.”

“you’d be my only customer.”

“then give me my kiss already!”

FEBRUARY 14 (valentine’s day) — every year, taichi spent valentine’s alone. until, he met you

“stupid cupid, i like you.”

you and taichi were shot by cupid’s arrow this valentine’s day

[crankynewt]

Chapter Two - Letting You Go

Another Love Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x Fem!Reader, Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Song: Think of You - Christina Grimmie

Warnings: Fluff, angst, (past) major character death, a very altered timeline, and Snape being Snape (frightens all ;))!

Word Count:  t o o  l o n g

Masterlist

Author’s Note: Y’all asked so I delivered (instead of doing my uni classes lol)! This ones a lot longer than the first chapter cause I got a little too carried away writing it, so grab a snack and enjoy! Parts of this chapter were inspired by Think of You by Christina Grimmie, who was tragically killed about five years ago, but I highly recommend listening to her music as she truly had a voice like no other.

Had you told yourself fifteen years ago at your graduation that you would eventually return to Hogwarts as a professor, you would have laughed in your face. Don’t get me wrong, you adored your time at the school, but you could never see yourself leaving Regulus and the family you’d hoped to start one day for nine months at a time. You thought you had your life figured out on the train ride home following your seventh year, but that all fell apart within twelve months. And then it did again a year later.

Now you were gazing upon the Great Hall once more, this time alongside your former professors as not teachers but colleagues. The towering stone walls of the castle brought back more memories than you would like to admit, especially not to Remus. This is not the result of any lack of love towards your husband, but you don’t think he would necessarily approve of what you and your late then-boyfriend got up to. Holding Regulus as sobs wracked through his body in the early hours of the morning after he returned from doing unspeakable things with his fellow Death Eaters had become your typical Friday night routine. But now that burden no longer sat upon your shoulders, and hopefully the commencing year wouldn’t be quite so stressful. Grading and rowdy students you could handle; another war, not so much. 

Sitting with Remus on your left and Professor McGon- Minerva, on your right, the beginning of the feast was nothing short of delightful.

“That one’s got to be a Gryffindor, he looks overly sure of himself!” You whispered to you husband, sure to keep your voice down so your colleagues could not hear your guesses as to where each of the first years would be sorted.

“What- no, Gryffindors are brave, not cocky! And besides, he’s clearly a Slytherin, they’re the overly-confident ones.” He replied, defensive of his own house. And, unfortunately for you, he was right, shooting you a smug smirk when the sorting hat roared Slytherin across the hall.

“See, cocky!” You pointed at him before taking a sip of the amber liquid in your goblet and focusing your attention towards your plate. What you didn’t see was the look of utter adoration that he focused on you, as if he was still in awe that you were by his side let alone married to him.

McGonagall couldn’t help but smile at both the childish-antics of the two newest professors but also the connection the two of you clearly shared. She remembered worrying about the both of you following the news of the youngest Black brother’s demise and downfall of the Marauders, however, she found her concerns eased seeing the solace the two of you found in each other.

“It’s Teddy’s turn!” He nudged your side, bringing you attention back to your youngest son who timidly made his way up the stone steps onto the stage at the front of the hall. He looked to Remus and yourself for reassurance, finding comfort in the slight nod his father gave to him and the look of pride in both sets of eyes. Rather than guessing his placement, the two of you sat in silent anticipation as you strained to hear what the hat was saying.

“Ah, a Lupin! I haven’t seen one of you since your father was here.” The enchanted garment began. “You certainly hold his courage and intelligence, yet I see a hint of something else in there - it must be your mother! I remember sorting her as well, she could have gone into any of the houses, and I think I sense her determination and kindness in you. Are you going to follow in your father’s footsteps and be daring in Gryffindor? Or will you take after your siblings and find greatness in Slytherin? Or, yes, that’s it. You belong in… Hufflepuff!”

Remus and yourself felt pride rise in you as you clapped harder than ever before. In the audience, you saw Archie and Cassie rise from their seats as they applauded as well, proud that their little brother had finally made it to Hogwarts regardless of what house he was in. 

The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur, Dumbledore introducing Remus and yourself to the school as professors Lupin and Y/L/N. Not only did you and your husband intend to keep your marriage a secret to the students, but you agreed with the headmaster that hiring a Black to the staff would not sit well with parents following Sirius’ recent escape from Azkaban. Students would eventually realize that Remus and Teddy were related, but Archie and Cassie were a little reluctant to reveal that their parents would be teachers in fear of the inevitable teasing from their peers. But for now, you would all keep this secret close to your chest.

Keeping an eye on your children throughout the rest of the feast, you were pleased to see both Teddy and Cassie cheerily conversing with a number of their peers whilst they ate. What was startling, however, was how you never saw Archie speak to anyone other than the occasional comment in his twin’s ear. His face held Regulus’ signature look of bore with a hint of irritation, a far cry from the boy that you typically saw at home. You’d had to do a double take, not seeing your son but a vision of Regulus from years ago. 

On the other side of the great hall you saw another child who looked the spitting image of their parents - Harry Potter. The boy was conversing with a ginger boy, probably a Weasley, and a girl you didn’t recognize. Everything down to his demeanour screamed ‘I’m James Potter’s son’ with the exception of his eyes - those were all Lily. 

Tears formed in the corner of your own eyes as you thought about your lost love and friends, for it was almost as if many of you had been reunited in the Great Hall once more. Placing a hand upon your forehead to shield your eyes from wandering glances and placing your weight upon your elbow, you leaned on the table as if you were only extremely focused on your meal. Noticing this, Remus wished he could take you into his arms as he was feeling a similar gloom, but the hundreds of people around him prevented the man from holding you close. For now, a comforting hand on your knee underneath the table would have to suffice. 

The rest of the evening was uneventful, and by the next morning you in such a rush to get to your first class that you were too distracted to think of anything else. Glancing down at your attendance sheet, your first class of the day was third-year Gryffindors and Slytherins just before lunch, and you searched for familiar names on the list. Both Archie and Cassie’s names were at the top of the sheet, and you were thankful that you would be starting each day with two-thirds of your children. Malfoy was not too far below it, and a physical groan left your lips. Of course Lucius’ son would be in your class, he’s probably just as delightful as his father. Even further down was Potter, and you quietly began to devise a plan that could hopefully resolve at least one of your problems. 

Meanwhile, three Gryffindors made their way down the halls of the school towards their third class of the day. They were still in awe of Professor Lupin’s second period Defence Against the Dark Arts class as it seemed they would finally have a decent teacher in the subject.

“Do you know anything about the new astrology professor, Hermione?” Ron asked, clearly concerned about the coming period. Saying that this subject wasn’t the youngest Weasley boy’s strong suit was an understatement.

“Professor Y/L/N? I don’t know, but it sure looked like Professor Lupin liked her last night.” The girl began, the stack of books in her arms so tall that she could barely see where she was going over it. “I’m just excited to finally have another female professor!”

“Yeah, and she seemed pretty young, so let’s hope that means she’s more fun!” Harry said. “If Lupin’s friends with her, how bad can she be?”

“Yeah, do you think they’re, you know…” Ron said, trailing off unable to finish his sentence as he made an odd movement with his hands.

“What, if they’re together?!” Hermione exclaimed. “Seriously Ronald! Men and women can be friends with each other and not be in love! And besides, Lupin has a son in first year who would have probably mentioned if his mother was teaching here as well.”

The boys agreed with their friend as they approached the classroom, Harry stopping in his tracks as he noticed the eldest of the Black children leaning against the wall beside the door a couple feet away from other third-years waiting for class to begin. Noticing Harry’s hesitation, Ron and Hermione turned back to look at where their friend had stopped. Motioning for them to come back, he eventually dragged them to the wall before whispering.

“Do either of you know how Arcturus is related to Sirius… They’re both Blacks.” Harry began, warily glancing towards the boy who was too absorbed into his book to notice them staring at him. 

“No… But Harry, you don’t honestly believe that Arcturus would help him get into the school, do you?” Hermione asked incredulously. As much as she didn’t want to believe that one of her classmates was plotting to help a madman set on killing one of her best friends, stranger things had happened.

“I mean, who knows?! Have you ever seen either of the Black twins with their father? That could be Sirius, for all we know!” Ron exclaimed. This time when the three students glanced towards the boy, he met their eyes with his own cold, green orbs.

Before anyone could react, their attention switched to the opening door where their newest professor stood with bright eyes and a warm smile.

“Well c’mon in, guys!” You beckoned as the children began filing into the classroom, both Archie and Cassie giving you small smiles as they made their way in. Before long, all your students had settled into their seats and your lesson could finally begin.

“I should probably start by introducing myself as I am a new face to most of you, my name is Professor Y/L/N and I am the new astrology professor here at Hogwarts.” You began, scanning the many small faces staring at you. “I was a student here not too long ago myself, so not only am I very excited to be back but I also know exactly how you guys are feeling. I’ll try to keep that in mind in my lessons so that we can all have a fun semester, yeah? If you guys have any questions real quick before we start, feel free to ask!” 

A few hands shot up within the crowd and you picked one, a timid looking Gryffindor in the very front row.

“Yes, Mr…?” You began, trailing off unsure as to the boy’s name.

“Longbottom, ma’am. Neville Longbottom.” He shakily replied, and you suddenly saw traces of Frank and Alice in him. The thought saddened you, remembering the disgust that filled you when Regulus explained what your  estranged cousin-in-law had done to the poor couple.

“Ah, yes! What is it, Mr.Longbottom?” You questioned, a smile working its way onto your lips as you encouraged the boy, hoping to give him a tad more confidence.

“I was just curious, cause you said you were a student here and I saw you two talking yesterday, how do you know Professor Lupin?” Neville said shakily. 

“Uhm, I had meant questions about the course rather than about me…” You trailed off, hoping that the anxiousness filling you at your secret getting out would not show. You could see Archie and Cassie stifling their own giggles at the question, finding the speculation of your relationship with their adoptive father very amusing.

“It’s just cause some of the students have bets goin’ as to whether or not you guys are together. Like, in love, together.” Neville tried to explain, earning himself sharp glances and scoffs from the rest of the class.

“Professor Lupin and I were friends when we were both students here, that’s all. Strictly platonic friends.” You explained, feeling your face slightly flushing in embarrassment at the inquiry. “Now then, let’s begin!”

The rest of the class went by smoothly, no more incidents of any of your secrets being exposed as you went through your introduction lesson. As you concluded your lecture, you decided it was time to introduce the major project for the course.

“Now, I will be introducing your major project for the year and be giving you your partners.” You explained, grabbing the list of pairs you had created from your desk. “I’ve assigned both you and another student a constellation that the two of you will be compiling research on in order to ‘teach’ it to the class at the end of the year. You guys all good so far?”

“Uhm, Professor?” A hand raised accompanied by a voice in the back of the classroom.

“Yes, Mr. Weasley?’ You replied, the red hair being a dead giveaway as to the boy’s identity.

“How come we don’t get to choose our own partners?” The ginger-haired boy questioned, glancing towards the curly-haired girl beside him who was shooting him a warning glance.

“Good question! I have decided that you will be paired with one of your peers from the other house.” You said matter-of-factly, as if your words hadn’t just scandalized your students. A collection of gasps and protests arose, even from your own children, Cassie’s jaw dropping as Archie hid his head in his arms and laid upon the desk in exasperation.

One sharp clap from you was enough to regain their attention, the rowdier members of the group sunk into their seats in fear of the possible removal of house points before the first half of their day was even over.

“Now I know this is upsetting to many of you, especially considering your two houses’ complicated past, but your cooperation with each other will be a part of your grade in the assignment. Sometimes opposites are the best pairings.” You said. “Now, would you like to hear who you’ll be working with?”

A collection of nods was all it took before you began listing the combinations. 

“Seamus Finnegan and Pansy Parkinson for Gemini, Neville Longbottom and Blaise Zabini for Taurus…” You began, listing off the partnerships before you reached your final three. “Ronald Weasley and Cassiopeia Black for Canis Major, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy for Orion, and lastly, Harry Potter and Arcturus Black for Leo.”

The clock began ringing, signalling the end of class and beginning of the lunch period.

“There’s no homework for today, so enjoy it while you can and have a nice lunch everyone!” You dismissed your students, not giving them a second glance before you made your way through the door of your office at the back of the room and began going through a stack of papers. You hadn’t noticed the boy who had remained in your class, shyly following you to the back before hesitantly knocking on the already open door.

“Mr. Potter! Please, sit!” You said when you saw the source of the faint noise, beckoning him towards one of the chairs in front of your desk. “What can I do for you?”

The boy hesitated for a moment as he took in your office, the sandy-coloured stone walls having been decorated in a style that seemed to perfectly fit the personality you’d projected to his classmates the past hour.

“I was just wondering if it would be possible to switch partners for the assignment…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. His words were a shock to you, and as a mother, you worked hard to fight the defensive instincts threatening to consume you.

“What’s wrong with Mr.Black?” You question in as calm a tone you could muster, however, you were sure Harry had picked up on the unsteadiness of your voice. The boy’s mouth opened and closed, seemingly searching for the right words to say, when his anxiety made you realize that this was not really about Archie at all.

“Is this about Sirius Black?” You said, your voice much softer this time. Your suspicions were concerned when Harry began furiously nodding, clearly distressed at the mere mention of the man.

“Ah...” You replied, unsure of what exactly to do about the boy’s anxiety, when you realized that the truth may be the best solution. You stood and turned to one of the tables behind you and began searching through one of the drawers.“Harry… What do you know about the House of Black?”

“Uhm, not much?” Harry answered, clearly confused as to your response.

You eventually turned to face him again, this time with a box in hand. Although smaller in size, the black box was ornamentally covered in green and gold details. You sat back down across from the boy, placing the box in front of you and ignoring it for the time being. 

“The Noble House of Black was a part of the Sacred 28 wizarding families and were a long line of Slytherin blood-purists. Orion Black was the patriarch of the house and, along with his wife Walburga, had two sons - Sirius and Regulus. Regulus is Arcturus and Cassiopeia’s father - have you heard of that name before?” Harry shook his head no, and that was all you needed to continue. “Regulus was two years younger than Sirius, and the pair were very close throughout childhood. However, when Sirius attended Hogwarts and was sorted into Gryffindor rather than Slytherin, he soon began rebelling against his parents and their values. He criticized their purist prejudices and wanted nothing to do with his little brother when he was sorted into Slytherin. This hurt Regulus deeply and he began to resent his brother and, although he slowly started to agree with the criticisms Sirius had gotten disowned over, he felt as if he couldn’t betray his family. So as Sirius grew closer to your father, Reg-”

“Wait, how did he know my father?!” Harry questioned, desperate to understand how his parents fit into all of this.

“They were best friends, you didn’t know?” You replied as horror began washing over the boy’s face. “Harry, Sirius is your godfather. I know it’s probably shocking and scary now, but if you keep listening, I think everything will make a lot more sense and you’ll feel better.” The boy nodded as tears welled in the corners of his eyes.

“So, while Sirius and Regulus drifted apart, the younger brother was forced by his parents to join He Must Who Not Be Named as a death eater when he was only sixteen. Regulus quickly became his right-hand man, but something didn’t sit right with him. It was only after he fell in love that he began to realize that this was not the path he wanted in life. So while Regulus continued to attend Death Eater-meetings, he fed information to the girl who he would eventually marry who then relayed the intelligence to a group called the Order of the Phoenix. This included your parents, Sirius, Professor Lupin, the Weasleys, Dumbledore, me - people who were dedicated to stopping him.”

“So you knew him… Sirius Black?” Harry questioned, eyes still glassy as some tears had stained his cheeks. 

“Yes, Harry, I did…” You trailed off. “And if it’s any comfort, I don’t think he did it. The Sirius I knew wasn’t a madman, and although your other teachers would probably disagree with me, I really don’t think he’s out to get you.”

“What do you mean? Everybody keeps saying he’s looking for me!” Harry exclaimed, disbelieving the words leaving your mouth. “Even if he was innocent, doesn’t he blame my family for getting him locked up?”

“He is very likely looking for you, but not because he’s mad at you. Like I said, he was your godfather, and your father was like a brother to him. If anything, he’s looking for you because he believes you are each other’s only family left.”

“Why wouldn’t he go to his brother?” Harry inquired, slowly becoming curious about his relationship with Regulus.

“Because he figured out a way to stop Voldemort. Regulus discovered he’d made something called a horcrux, and that by destroying it, he could be killed.” You began, emotion beginning to build up in your throat, not having talked about losing your husband in quite some time. “Regulus found out where it was and set out to destroy it, but he died in the process. He left behind a wife who was pregnant with children he would never know he had: Arcturus and Cassiopeia. Regulus Black was a good man, Harry, a great one. The twins lost their father to the same man who killed yours, and I think you’re a lot more alike than you know.”

You finally opened the box in front of you and Harry watched you reach for a pile of pictures and began searching through them, finally finding the one you were looking for about six pictures in. You placed the extra pictures on your desk and handed one to Harry, and the contents of it made his eyes widen. 

The image was of two men and three toddlers, the caption reading ‘Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony with Harry, Archie, and Cassie - September 1981.’ The children were very happily playing, and Harry recognized one of the men as being Professor Lupin while the other was the face who he’d seen in every newspaper the past week - Sirius Black.

“We were… Friends?” Harry questioned, shocked at the revelation that the Slytherin boy had been his first friend during his infancy. You simply smiled and nodded, Harry eventually tore his gaze away from the card in his hands moving to one upon your desk. “Is that… Regulus Black?” 

Your eyes flickered to the picture he was talking about, only to meet one of Regulus from about six months before he died.

“Yeah, that’s him.” You said as a sad smile graced your lips. “Anyways, I’ve wasted enough of your lunch hour Harry, you should find your friends and eat something. You need to get some sugar into your stomach, so go grab some chocolate.”

The young boy stood and you began to walk him out of your classroom but just as he opened the door, he paused and turned around to face you.

“Professor, how did you know Regulus?” He said, yet something in his tone told you that he already knew.

“What do you mean, Harry? I told you, I worked for the Order.” You replied, even though you knew that showing him the pictures was a dead giveaway. But it was well worth it.

“You were married, weren’t you? You’re Arcturus and Cassiopeia’s mum?”

“Just don’t go telling the whole school,” you began. “I don’t think very many parents would approve of a Black teaching their children. It’ll be our little secret.” 

Harry nodded before running off to join his friends, and you left the classroom not long after. Walking through the halls, memories came back in flashes as the tears became harder and harder to fight. You thankfully held your composure until you arrived at the office door, tears beginning to fall as you began frantically knocking upon the rough wooden surface. 

When it eventually flung open to reveal your husband, his face immediately softened at your state as you rushed into his office room, Remus closing the door behind you. He opened his arms that you quickly flung yourself into, sobs wracking your body as he held you close. Remus didn’t ask what was wrong, he didn’t have to. He knew you hadn’t been back to the school since losing Regulus and, although he didn’t doubt your love for him, knew that there was the possibility of past emotions resurfacing and overwhelming you. He knew you too well.

As you calmed down in his arms, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for crying over your past love. Shouldn’t you have moved on? You had this wonderful man and a beautiful family now, that should be enough for you. But Hogwarts was where your love story with Regulus began, you wished on these stars, they were yours, and the halls would always bring back memories of him. You might have let him go, but at least for the next little while, he would consume your thoughts at the school.

The next few months progressed with little incident, and it became increasingly easier to control the strong emotions that had overtook you your first day. You watched Harry and Arcturus slowly become friends, and you watched as your son became the happy boy Remus and yourself had raised. While the uneventful year was a welcome tranquility, that peace came to an end when your husband came bursting into your quarters one evening.

“Honey, what’re you doing? Isn’t it-”

“Peter is alive! We have to go now!” He exclaimed, grabbing your wrist and dragging you through the dark halls of the castle and towards the shrieking shack.

While you were running, Harry, Hermione, and Archie approached a trembling Ron in the rotting house. 

“Harry! It’s a trap! He’s the dog, he’s an animagus!” Ron exclaimed, pointing behind the trio. Turning around, they watched what was left of the door creak open to reveal the fugitive the entire wizarding world was searching for. Although Harry remembered your words, he couldn’t help but feel afraid as a pair of rabid eyes stared back at him.

“If you’re going to kill Harry, you’re going to have to kill us too!” Hermione shouted, jumping in front of Harry as Arcturus followed suit, pointing his wand at his estranged uncle.

“Only one will die tonight!” Sirius remarked, slowly walking towards the children. He hadn’t paid much attention to the boy standing in front of Harry but as he approached, he was shocked to see his dead brother protecting his godson. He didn’t have time to think, though, as Harry quickly shouted something he only heard the end of before wrestling him to the ground. Raising his wand, Sirius let out a sickening laugh.

“Are you going to kill me Harry?”

Nobody had time to respond as the doors burst open, Remus shouting expelliarmus as Harry’s wand went flying across the room. You followed closely behind him, yet stood in the doorway just out of your brother in-law’s sight. Harry stared at Lupin and you, his breathing heavy as your husband tilted his head quickly, and that was all the boy needed to run back towards his friends. You raised your wand as well, approaching your husband’s side as you stood slightly behind him.

“Well, well, Sirius, looking rather ragged, aren’t we?” Your husband began, continuing to approach his former friend. “Finally the flesh reflects the madness within.”

“Well you’d know all about the madness within, wouldn’t you Remus?” Sirius retorted, looking between you and your husband as he took in just how much the two of you have changed.

The comment brought a small smile to your face, one that eventually grew bigger as you dropped your arm to your side, Remus following suit. You both reached out your hands and helped Sirius to his feet, him taking you into a bone-crushing hug.

“I missed you, sister.” He breathed into your hair, you mumbling how you missed him as well only loud enough for the two men to hear.

“Mum, what’re you doing?!” Archie exclaimed from the other side of the room, clearly taken aback by you embracing the man who’d just threatened to kill them. All three of you look over to a bewildered Archie, you dropping one of your arms from Sirius while the other stayed around his middle.

“Is that Archie?” He asked, glancing between Remus and yourself, the pair of you nodding. Sirius took in the sight of his nephew, who he earlier had believed to be his reanimated brother, before turning his attention back to his dearest friend who embraced him.

“I found him,” Sirius gasped between laughs.

“I know,” Remus soothed.

“It’s him!”

“I understand.”

“Let’s kill him!”

“No!” Hermione interrupted, shouting at the group of adults. “I trusted you! And all this time… You’ve been his friends!”

She paused to catch her breath and regain her composure before continuing her rant.

“He’s a werewolf! That’s why he’s been missing classes.” Your body stiffened as your husbands secret was exposed to Harry and Ron, and you saw Archie suffer from the same reaction. Of course he knew of what happened to his father every full moon, however he also knew the discrimination that accompanies it. Remus’ eyes darkened as he began to approach the girl.

“How long have you known?” He spoke with a demeanor that was so unlike the kind and gentle man you had fallen in love with, sending chills down your spine.

“Since Professor Snape set the essay.”

“Well well well, Hermione, you really are the brightest witch of your age I’ve ever met.” Remus said as Sirius grew impatient.

“Enough talk, Remus! Come on, let’s kill him!” Sirius shouted as he began pacing.

“Wait!” You warned, but that only angered him.

“I did my waiting!” He shouted. “Twelve years of it! In Azkaban!”

Remus you glanced at each other before looking towards a petrified Harry, clearly weighing your options as your husband began fiddling with the strange wand in his hands. Looking towards the floor, Remus hesitated before handing Sirius’ wand back to him.

“Very well…”

“Dad! How could you?!” Archie yelled from across the room, too upset with his parents’ actions to care about keeping their secret any longer. This came as a shock to both Sirius and the other children, their heads snapping towards your son as he raised his wand towards the man he’d considered to be his father. 

“Dad?!” Harry and Sirius exclaimed, almost comically in sync, as you put yourself between you son and your husband. You slowly grabbed the end of Archie’s wand and took it from his trembling hand, quickly wrapping your arms around the boy as you turned to face three shocked faces.

“We’re married, Sirius.” You explained, and Remus raised his left hand to show his friend the ring adorning his finger. Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s eyes flicked between you, your son, your husband, and your brother-in-law, at last putting your connection together as your betrayal stung them even deeper. Sirius’ face softened at the revelation, but Remus quickly picked up where they left off. 

“Kill him,” he began, “but wait one more minute. Harry has the right to know why.”

“I know why!” Harry shouted. “You betrayed my parents! You’re the reason they’re dead!”

“No, Harry, it wasn’t him. Somebody did betray your parents but it was somebody who, until quite recently, I believed to be dead!” Remus exclaimed, and you finally felt Archie begin to relax enough that you could let go of your hold on him. 

“Who was it then?!” Harry argued.

“Peter Pettigrew!” Sirius yelled matter-of-factly. “And he’s in this room! Right now! Come on, come on, Peter! Come out, come out and play!”

“Expelliarmus!” A new voice called, Snape having snuck up on the group and quickly disarmed Sirius as many horrified faces turned to look at him. You tightened your grip on your wand as you moved to stand in front of Archie protectively. “Ah… Vengeance is sweet. How I’d hoped I’d be the one to catch you.”

“Severus,” Remus moved towards his colleague before quickly flinching away as Snape moved his wand towards him.

“I told Dumbledore you were helping and old friend into the castle and now - here’s the proof!”

“Brilliant, Snape. Once again you’ve put your keen and penetrating mind to the task and as usual come to the wrong conclusion!” Sirius mocked. “Now if you’ll excuse us, Remus, (Y/N), and I have some unfinished business to attend to.”

Snape, having previously lowered his wand, quickly raised it again, this time right against Sirius’ neck. 

“Give me a reason. I beg you.”

“Severus, don’t be a fool.” You said, attempting to diffuse the situation.

“He can’t help it, it’s happened by now!” 

“Sirius be quiet!” Remus added.

“Go quiet yourself, Remus!” Your husband turned away and approached you, visibly annoyed at his friend’s sour attitude.

You stopped listening to their quarrel as you saw Harry reaching into Hermione’s pocket in the corner of your eye. Shifting your attention over to the teens, you saw him slowly pulling out her wand before you turned to Remus, who hadn’t noticed this subtle movement. Before long, Snape was knocked unconscious into the bed. 

In the following minutes, the truth about Peter Pettigrew was revealed as you led the quivering traitor alongside your family and students through the tunnel. 

“I must say,” Sirius began, glancing between you and Remus as he helped Harry carry an injured Ron. “I never expected the two of you winding up together. How long?”

“We’ve been married for ten years.” Remus replied with a shy smile, hoping his friend would approve of the match given that you are still Sirius’ brother’s widow. 

“You still have to see Cassie, and you can meet Teddy! He’s our youngest, this was his first year here and he was sorted into Hufflepuff!” You explained, excitement lacing every word as you held your husband’s hand. To your students, this talk of a long-term relationship and PDA was a shock, as they were unaware of just how close the two of you really were. Sure, they’d had suspicions, but your talk with Harry led them to believe that you were still grieving Regulus.

Upon exiting the willow, Sirius finally had the opportunity to pull Archie aside for a moment, just a few feet away from the others.

“You look just like him, you know…” He began, not knowing exactly what to say to his nephew. 

“I know.” Archie nodded, a sad smile forming as he looked towards his uncle.

“Y’know, I’d hated your father for years when your mother showed up at my door. I didn’t know just what he’d done until after he died, when she showed up at my door telling me what a hero he was.” Sirius recounted. “I felt awful, like he’d still be here if I’d just given him the chance. But then, y’know what she told me?” Archie shook his head. “She told me she was pregnant with you, well, you and your sister but we didn’t know that at the time, and that was when I knew. I promised myself that I would be there for you, that I would fill his shoes and protect you. And I did for a year, up until I was arrested, but you guys and Harry were all I thought about in that cell as I rotted. I’m sorry that I’ve failed you the past twelve years and although I’m so glad that Remus has become a father to you, I still want to be there for you. I want to be a part of your lives, whether it be every day or whenever you can spare a visit.”

“I’d like that too.” Archie simply stated, embracing his uncle as Harry began approaching them. He left the two of them to talk before gazing into the night sky. Admiring the moon as it began to move from behind the mountain, it took him a minute to fully register exactly what night it was. 

“Dad?!” Archie exclaimed, bringing all of your attention to the full moon in the sky as the inevitable began. 

Chaos ensued, a horror film of a night that you never want to experience again.

The following week, it was no surprise to Dumbledore when you and your husband resigned. Snivellus had let slip the truth about the two of you, him being a dangerous werewolf while yourself having aided the “madman” that was your brother-in-law, two things that don’t typically sit well with parents.

Packing up your office, Hermione made her way in, ginger cat in her arms as she watched you pile your belongings into boxes.

“Professor, what’re you doing?” She questioned, shocked to see you packing up your office. “Did Dumbledore fire you? He must know that-”

“No, no! Dumbledore has been nothing but supportive, but... He stuck his neck out hiring Remus and I, knowing who we are, and now that Snape has revealed the truth about us, it’ll be best for everyone if it looks like he let us go.” You explained, pausing your ministrations as you looked around at the now empty shelves.

“I’m sorry…” She began, unsure of what else there was to say. “I’m sorry for everything that happened that night, I feel as though we just made a mess of everything. Pettigrew escaped and now you and Professor Lupin are leaving…”

“Hermione, now you listen to me.” You sat her down in a chair and crouched before her. “Two innocent lives were saved because of you and Harry. Now that is something amazing, and something I would be willing to lose my job for all over again.” You gave her a smile, one that quickly became a tight-lipped wince as the cat on her lap began licking your face. 

“Crookshanks!” She exclaimed while pulling the feline away from you, horrified at his actions.

“It’s fine, Hermione. He’s quite a cute cat.” You gave her a wide smile as you took Crookshanks from her arms and held him close to your chest. He gazed at you with an almost human-like intelligence upon his face, before shutting his eyes as he purred at your touch. “Is he part kneazle?”

“Yes, actually.” She began. “The man at the Menagerie said it was why he’d been there for so long. The kneazle part made him look a little odd, but I think it’s what makes him handsome.” 

You handed the feline back to her, glancing at the clock upon the wall and realizing that you’d agreed to meet Remus at the entrance in five minutes. 

“Can you please do me one last favour, Hermione?” You asked, heading towards the only item left on your desk, a small black box. Opening it, you pulled the top picture out and extended your arm to hand the girl the image. “Could you please give this to Harry next time you see him? Remind him that his family will only ever be a letter away.”

She nodded as her eyes scanned the paper before her, seeing that it was a picture of a younger Remus and Sirius playing with Harry, Archie, and Cassie while they were all still babies. She smiled, finding solace the fact that Harry’s family life will be getting better than how the Dursley’s have treated him the past twelve years. An orange paw upon the paper tore her attention away from the image, Crookshanks looking to be the center of attention once again.

“Well then,” you gathered all your possessions into one trunk with a final flick of your wand. “I must be off, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again very soon.” You turned to walk away, leaving your classroom far behind you as you eventually met up with your husband at the front of the school.

“Have you called the meeting yet?” You questioned, quiet enough so only Remus could hear.

“Yes, my dear. They should all be waiting at home when we get back to London.” He replied.

“Excellent.” You commented as you walked hand-in-hand away from the castle as you made your way back to 12 Grimmauld Place, the Black family slowly beginning to resurface in the both of your lives once more.

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[pandorasoghmaifinium]

The Obey Me brothers reacting to an MC who’s recovering from self harm

TW: mentions of cutting

Lucifer:

You had been fidgeting at dinner, not something that would normally catch anyone's attention, but he noticed.

When you insisted on cleaning up afterwards, he made he assumption that something was up. When he went into the kitchen to see you scrubbing the dishes thoroughly and pausing when you held a knife to stare for a moment, he spoke up.

Your sleeves were up, and he noticed faint scars there on your wrists and arms

“Is there something wrong?” he asked you, startling you as you dropped the knife into the sink.

You assured him that you were fine, but he didn’t buy that for a second. He asked you again, and you cracked

You felt the need to hurt yourself, you explained, but you didn’t want to. Not anymore. It was an addiction and you were trying to stop, but the desire was still there! So you were trying to distract yourself, at least until the desire went away.

He was silent for a moment.

Then he took off his gloves, rolled up his sleeves, and began to help. He offered to do the utensils while you did plates and glasses. He offered simple conversation about nothing in particular.

When the two of you finished, you felt somewhat better, then he placed his hand on your shoulder.

“You should be proud of yourself for fighting the temptation. If you need help with this in the future, I am here for you.” He offered a smile.

A small smile graced your face. You felt hope. Hope that you could one day beat this desire. He may not have said it, but you felt that Lucifer was proud of you for putting up a fight.

Mammon:

He didn’t actually notice anything wrong, not at first

But when he barged into your room to see you in a frenzy trying to find SOMETHING to do, he’s confused

“What are ya doin’? Are ya bored or somethin’?” he asked, casually walking over to you to get you to sit still, but you just kept on looking around the room, “Hey! What’s up with you?” He put both of his hands on your shoulders to make you sit still and grab your attention.

So, you spilled the beans. In the past, you had cut yourself, and that wasn’t something you wanted to do anymore, but the urges were still there and they were acting up, taunting you and trying to get you to relapse.

Mammon was a bit... Stunned. He didn’t know humans did that to themselves, especially not willingly, so hearing that you wanted to do it again made him feel a certain way. He cleared his throat, then spoke.

“I-is that all?! Well, no human of MINE is gonna succumb to such a thing! The Great Mammon won’t allow it!” and with that, he took your hand and began to pull you along, “We’re goin’ OUT!”

And that’s what you two did. He took you out to dozens of different places, some being shops where you two would just look around and he would try to make you laugh, some places that just looked cool to him, and finally out to Hell’s Kitchen, where he offered to buy you something to eat after your little adventure.

“Are ya feelin’ any better? As your first, you should come to ME for any help! Don’t be goin’ ta anyone else!” He was boasting again, but you didn’t mind. He was trying to help, and it helped more than you thought it would. 

Without warning to him, you gave him a hug and thanked him. To which he blushed and mumbled something about how he deserved all of your praise for being so generous.

Leviathan:

You weren’t sure what brought it on, you had just been gaming with Levi when it hit. That itching desire that made your fingertips tingle. You bit your bottom lip and sighed, trying to focus on the game, but you just couldn’t, and it cost you both the level.

“Gaaaah! We were doing so good! What was that, MC??” He asked, turning to you to see the controller on the ground and your head in your hands. He didn’t know what was wrong, did losing the level really make you that upset? “Hey, we can do it again, I mean, it’s a tough level.” But you shook your head.

You tried to explain that there was something bothering you without actually saying what was wrong, but he didn’t get it. So, you blurted it out.

Loading... 

He didn’t answer, he just got up to sit by you, and he took off his headphones. He put them on you, and he started to play some soft music. He then saved their progress on the game they were playing, then turned it off to put in a new game. The game was cute, soft, and just overall something he thought would calm Mc down.

“Y-you can lean on me... I-if you want to! N-no pressure...” He was blushing, and you took him up on the offer and he hesitantly put his arm around you. “I-is this fine? I.. I don’t want to make it worse...”

This was fine, it meant a lot to you that he was trying in the way he knew how. You two stayed like that for a while, long after you had calmed down, and eventually the two of you dozed off with the game still running.

Satan:

He had suspected that you had cut yourself, he had seen the scars. A slip of the sleeve, but he never mentioned it. He couldn’t smell fresh blood on you, so he never made any action against it.

That is, until you went to him for help. He was surprised, but he listened to what you had to say about your problem, and he agreed to try and help you keep your mind off of it.

It started with trying to read, but you got too antsy, so he tried something else. Talking about poetry! When he saw that you were more focused on trying not to think about the issue, so he had to kick it up a notch.

He took your hand and went to the kitchen, grabbed the tray of ice, then brought you outside.

“Throw it onto the ground.” He instructed, “As hard as you can. Sometimes, it helps me when I’m angry. Maybe it’ll help you?” He spoke as you took an ice cube in your hand and threw it straight into the ground, causing a satisfying shatter sound.

Satan smiled, he enjoyed the sound, and you seemed to enjoy it too. Every shatter made you feel just a bit better, but your hands were freezing cold now...

Satan took your hands in his and he held them tight, breathing onto them to warm them up. When he was done, he continued to hold them.

“I’m glad you came to me to help you with this. I’ll be happy to help you again, if you need it.” And he smiled at you.

Asmodeus:

He was preparing to start working on his nails when you came knocking at his door. He was delighted to see you, but when you asked if he could help you with your nails? Ecstatic! He ushered you in, and sat you down.

You hadn’t let him do anything with your nails before, so he was very happy that you finally were gonna let him. Until, you told him why you wanted them done.

You needed a distraction, you told him, you had had problems with cutting yourself in the past, and the desire was flaring up, so you thought if he could keep your hands busy for a while, it would eventually pass.

He was so sad to hear that, but he hugged you tight and told you that he was going to pamper you with a full set of nails and do your toes, even rub lotion onto your hands, arms, and legs! Then you could help him out with his lotion.

So, your spa day began. When he saw your old scars, he thought he heard his heart break, and he decided to pepper them in kisses. You were embarrassed at this, but you didn’t stop his onslaught of affection. It felt nice to have someone be there for you and love on you.

He started with rubbing lotion into your arms and hands, massaging them and rubbing your scars. Then he moved on to your legs, rubbing lotion into them, then into your feet.

After that delightful rub down, he started on your nails, and by that point you were far too relaxed to think about your previous predicament.

“Whenever you need me, I’m here for you!” He said, cheerfully picking out a color that would match your style.

Beelzebub:

You had gone to the kitchen to find something to snack on, hopefully something sweet, something that’ll give you a little boost of happy to take your mind off of... The feeling.

Instead of finding what you were looking for, you found Beel, who was also looking for snacks. You should’ve known he would’ve been here, but it had slipped your mind.

He greeted you with a smile, and asked what you were looking for

You tell him that you’re looking for something sweet, or really anything that’ll be a good distraction

He tells you that there are, unfortunately, no snacks to be found here, so he questions why you need a distraction

Being unable to lie to the big teddy bear of a demon before you, you tell him what’s bothering you and he lifts you up to give you a big hug. He then offers to take you to Madame Screams for some sweets, and that he will buy you some, and then you two are off.

He carried you the whole way, refusing to put you down until the two of you arrived. He set you down at a little booth, something comfortable next to a window, and he handed you a menu.

“Order anything you want, if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” He offered you another smile, while you thought about the issue at hand. After looking at the menu for a moment, you opened up about it. Explaining why you started to do it in the first place, how it has affected you, and why you want to stop.

When the sweets arrived, Beel was holding your hand, and you felt like you had all of the support you needed to break free from your gnawing desire.

Belphegor:

Late at night, you had woken up from a dream, not a bad dream, just a dream that caused you to wake from your sleep. Though, when you sat up, you felt the itch, that itch that can only be scratched by scratching yourself, so you stood up and began to pace. You didn’t want to wake anyone, but you supposed you were being loud enough to wake someone

Belphie came knocking at your door, and you answered, looking at him as he rubbed his eyes, “I could hear you pacing, what’s wrong?” He asked you, pillow in hand as he let himself in.

You were used to this, any of the brothers just letting themselves in, so you closed the door and took a seat on your bed, and Belphie joined you. He just stared, waiting for an answer, and eventually, you began to talk, albeit softly.

You craved something, you said, there was an ache on your arms, wrists, thighs, legs, begging for a sharp edge to grace your flesh and let your life essence free. You showed him some of your scars, and you gave him a sad look. You didn’t want to do it anymore, but the feeling was a call and it wasn’t always easy to ignore.

Belphie stared at them for a moment, then he pulled your wrists to his mouth and gave them a gentle kiss. The action surprised you, but it was welcomed to some degree.

“I’ll stay in here tonight, we can share my pillow if you’d like.” He gave you a smile, and you gave him a hug in return. So, the two of you laid down, and he held you to his chest. He even started to play with your hair.

“I’m sorry, you know. I don’t want to see you hurting. Whenever you feel like this, I want you to come to me... And only me, okay?” He whispered to you as he dozed off, and you gave him a hum in return. Soon enough, his rhythmic breathing lulled you off to sleep, and there you two would stay, until the morning broke.

[hookedonapirate]

Through the Rising Tide

Thank you so much for the beautiful graphic @itsfabianadocarmo​!

Summary: The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son.

Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past.

The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type.

Oh, and apparently their taste in women.

Or rather, one woman.

Feisty.

Blonde.

Gorgeous.

Green-eyed Goddess.

Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse…

Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident.

Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart.

Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces.

Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby.

Notes: 

Starts out as Jewelled Swan. Don’t like, don’t read!

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd​​ for looking it over!

This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take.

The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this:

"I hope you know through the rising tide

That I'll be here and you can lay by my side"

If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFJbLzEtoZw

P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture above and are wondering what it says—

"There is no happiness without tears

No life without death

And no true love without heartbreak"

Rated: Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs).

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

Catch up: Ch 1 // Ch 2 //

Chapter 3

One Year Later…

 With a sleepy groan, Emma shoots out her hand to silence the loud, annoying noise coming from her phone. “Ugh…” She drops the device on the nightstand and retreats underneath the covers, not ready to get up yet. She’s never ready to get up in the morning. She rolls over to her other side, seeking warmth from the body lying next to her. She wraps her arms around his torso and buries her face in his chest, not wanting to leave him. But she has to get ready for work. She hates the thought of leaving his arms, though. They fit so well together like this, like two puzzle pieces.

 She knows the longer she lies here like this, though, the stronger the urge to stay will be. She attempts to force herself out of bed. She kisses her sleeping boyfriend’s forehead and starts to get up. His strong arms pull her back to him, his hands latching onto her hips, pulling her on top of him so she’s straddling him. Emma emits a sleepy moan when she feels his thickness pressed against her core.

 “Where do you think you’re going, love?” he asks, his voice groggy with sleep as he wraps his arms around her to ensure she won’t leave him.

 “I have to go to work,” she groans, clearly not happy about it. When he tightens his arms around her, she wiggles in his hold and laughs, trying to free herself, but honestly, she’s not trying very hard.

 He caresses her cheek and pulls her in for a lazy kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to taste her. She moans against his lips, her body tingling and molding to his as she rocks slightly against him, her arousal coating his hard length as he arches his hips into her, seeking more friction. Friction she desperately wants to give him.

 But as much as she wants to get caught up in the kiss, in the effect he has on her, as much as she wants to just give herself to him and ride him into the next world, she really has to get up and go to work. She breaks the kiss, as painful and difficult as it is. “Babe, you’re not making it easy,” she says breathlessly.

 He pouts as he looks up at her, his crystal blue eyes boring into her green ones, not making this any easier. No, the way he’s looking at her right now makes it ten times harder. 

 “Sure you don’t have time for a quickie?” he begs, releasing a small groan of desperation as he palms her naked breast, brushing the pad of his thumb over her nipple, making it hard. 

 “Babe, if you make me late—” Her pleas are instantly silenced when he moves his hands to her ass and squeezes, pressing her more firmly against him. 

 He flashes a devilish smirk, one tainted with mischief that she only witnesses when they’re either talking about sex, having sex or about to have sex. “Then I’ll get to fuck you for the next hour.” 

 Emma had actually planned on getting up, but when she feels Liam’s lips on her neck and his teeth nibbling her skin, when she feels the head of his cock at her entrance, all bets are off. A moan tumbles from her lips and soon, Liam is grabbing her hips and sliding into her. Emma sits up, placing her hands on his chest in total submission and rocks her hips back and forth, eager to have him completely buried inside of her. 

 “Oh, fuck, Emma. . .”

 He reaches for her breasts again and squeezes as she rides his dick. She’s so glad she’d set her alarm clock fifteen minutes early like she always does because she knows nine times out of ten, she’ll let Liam get his way. It's their morning routine.

 But she can’t help it. Her boyfriend is so irresistible. The way he flips her over, sending Emma to her back, the way he pounds into her so rough and hard like he can never get enough of her. The way he kisses her so deeply and passionately, making her head spin. The expression on his face as her walls grip his cock, the way he groans, setting her skin ablaze. And the way he’s kissing her after it’s over, both of them breathless. When he pulls out, the way he kisses every inch of her on his way to her satisfied core, his cum dripping from her entrance as she combs her fingers through his curly brown hair. The way he laps up both of their orgasms from her cunt until her walls are fluttering around his tongue. She can’t help but give in to all of it.

 Emma’s fingers clench around his hair as she screams through another incredible orgasm. “Fuck… Liam!” 

 And once she's able to reassemble herself and jump out of bed before he can talk her into cuddling or going for another round, she immediately hates having to leave him. But now she must.

 Emma throws on some clothes, making sure she’s dressed appropriately in case she runs into her other roommate as she heads to the bathroom. The big, blissful smile plastered on her face instantly vanishes, though, her nose scrunching in disapproval when she steps on something and looks down, spotting a red, lacey thong on the floor outside Killian’s bedroom. A thong that is not her own. 

 What the actual fuck? 

 She grimaces and kicks the fabric aside like it’s contaminated with a deadly virus. She’s not surprised though. Disgusted, yes, but not surprised. Killian is always bringing a different woman home with him, and she and Liam always have to hear the noises coming from his bedroom. Therefore, they never feel bad when they’re going at it in their bedroom, and don’t even bother being quiet. 

 Sometimes she thinks the two brothers are engaging in some sort of weird contest, trying to see who can make the woman they’re with scream the loudest. She gathers it’s a pissing contest between the two brothers to see who’s the better bloke in the sack or to see who has the bigger cock. So Emma always makes sure she’s extra loud to let Killian know just how good his brother is in the sack. And so far, none of the women Killian’s brought to his bed have outmatched her. 

 Emma grins at the thought as she continues to the bathroom to relieve her bladder. She also thinks about how much things have changed since she came here to Storybrooke. She’d never meant to start a relationship with Liam, or anyone for that matter, when she’d ran into him outside his bar the night they’d met. They had exchanged phone numbers and he’d asked her out the next day, to which she’d reluctantly accepted. She was reluctant, not because she wasn't attracted to him—because God, she was—but because she still had a strong fortress surrounding her heart from when Neal had shattered it to pieces. But when she’d learned Liam too was cheated on by an ex, they had bonded over their heartaches, and she thought they could help each other heal. But they did so much more than that. 

 Emma fell for Liam and she fell hard. He’s much like a teddy bear, only soft on the inside, not the outside. He’s kind and loving and warm and best of all, he makes her laugh. When she’d discovered how good he was in bed on top of all his amazing qualities, she thought he was too good to be true. He seemed like the total package. He is the total package. But still, she’d kept waiting for the other shoe to drop; it never did, though. Or at least, it hasn’t dropped. yet.

 Once she's under the shower stream, she’s wetting her hair and singing the first song that comes to mind. Titanium by David Guetta. 

  “You shout it out, but I can’t hear a word you say. . .”

 After nine years, she still sings this damn song. But it’s so perfect for the shower because the lyrics are ones she can easily belt out, the words echoing beautifully off the bathroom walls.

 She’s been singing in the shower since she was eight years old. Her brother would always pound on the bathroom door when she was taking a shower, and yell for her to stop. It was like that when they lived in the same house growing up and it was like that after she moved in with him and Mary Margaret. She has to admit, she misses annoying the hell out of her brother. 

  Bang, bang, bang.

 “Would you stop your bloody awful singing?!" Killian shouts through the door. “Some people are actually trying to sleep around here!”

 Now that she lives with Liam, she has his pain in the ass brother to annoy. As fun as that is, it’s not really the same.

 Emma doesn’t stop though. Instead, she grins to herself and lathers shampoo into her hair, closing her eyes as she makes sure to sing even louder and more obnoxious.

  “You criticize, but all your bullets ricochet. Shoot me down, but I get up. . .”

 Ever since she moved in with her boyfriend eight months ago, Killian has been a pesky thorn in her side. He’s been nothing but a nuisance. From leaving his dirty dishes in the sink to sleeping with a different woman almost every night to pissing her off every chance he gets. He’s always trying to bring her down, always finding new ways to push her buttons. She’s not sure exactly why it all started. Maybe because he’s held a grudge against her since she chose his brother over him. Or maybe because he thinks she’s trying to steal his brother away from him. But either way, she’s not giving him the satisfaction of letting him get to her. Or at least letting him know he gets to her. 

 Emma starts shouting out the lyrics, each word louder than the previous one, purposely trying to get a rise out of him, just like he always does to her. 

 “Shoot me down, but I won’t fall! I am Tit-aaaaan-iiiiiiiuuuuuum! Shoot me down, but I won’t—”

 The whine of the faucet interrupts her, and suddenly she's shivering, no longer feeling the hot water spraying her skin. What the fuck? One second she's rinsing her hair and the next, the bathroom door is slamming shut and she’s just standing there in the bathtub with shampoo dripping down her face and no water to rinse it out with. 

 That damn bastard turned off the shower!

 “What the hell?!” she screeches, her words garbled when the shampoo drips into her mouth. She spits it out and spins around, blindly reaching for the towel on the rack, yanking it off the bar and wiping her face with it. “You asshole!”

 She steps out of the tub, blood bubbling under her skin as she wraps the towel around her body. Okay, pounding on the bathroom door is one thing, but shutting off the water while she’s taking a shower is a whole different level of asshole for Killian Jones! And she won’t stand for it. She’s not letting him get away with this.  

 She marches out of the bathroom and down the hall, leaving a dripping wet trail of soapy water behind her. But she doesn’t give a fuck at the moment. She rips his door open and storms into his room without any sort of grace. She hurries over to his alarm clock, which he leaves on his dresser across the room so he'll have to get up to turn it off. He does it so he won’t be tempted to hit the snooze button and fall back asleep. 

 Killian’s in his bed with the covers over his head as Emma turns on the music and cranks up the volume. She immediately spins around and scurries out of his room, her heart hammering in her chest, but when she makes it to the doorway, she can feel his hand gripping her arm as he turns her around and presses her firmly against the wall, just outside his door.  

 She loses her breath.

 He doesn’t say anything at all; he just stares at her, a mixture of emotions written all over his face. She can’t tell if he’s pissed or irritated, or if the look on his face is just pure hatred for her. Or if it’s something else entirely.

 Emma loses a breath when he closes the gap between them until their bodies are pressed together, his face inches from hers. He still doesn’t murmur a word, just stares at her. 

 She gulps when his eyes flicker over her face, and it almost seems like he’s going to. . .

 No, no, no, that can’t be. She knows for a fact she’s just imagining things, because Killian would never try to kiss her. Not only because his brother is dating her, but because he hates her with every fiber of his being; he’s never said it out loud, but she knows deep down he does.

 Killian’s still staring at her and she’s so stunned in her spot, she can’t even move. As his eyes move to her lips, she swears she stops breathing, her heart pounding in her ear. He hasn’t looked at her with anything apart from hatred since the night they met.

 He quickly amends his stare, his eyes snapping to hers, regret clouding his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispers huskily and releases her, dashing to his room and slamming the door behind him. 

  What the hell was that?

 He may have been able to move, but she feels like she’s superglued to the wall. She can still feel his palms on her wrists like he’s still pinning her, but he’s not.

 “What the bloody hell was all that racket?” 

 The sound of Liam’s voice makes her heart jump into her throat, and she has to peel herself from the wall. When she does, she feels a million times lighter. She blows out a long breath. A breath she feels like she’s been holding this whole time. She turns to Liam and gets on her tiptoes as she wraps her arms around the back of his neck, kissing him chastely on the lips. “Nothing, babe, it was just your annoying brother hollering at me for singing again and telling me how awful of a singer I am.” 

 “Don’t listen to him. You sing beautifully,” Liam assures her sweetly, kissing the tip of her nose. “I love your singing.”

 Emma smiles at his compliments, but her face twists at the memories of Killian turning off the water on her. “I never do listen to him, but that asshole shut off the shower on me while I was in there. And I had shampoo in my hair and it got in my eyes and mouth.”

 She can see the anger spiraling through her boyfriend, his features appalled. “He did what?!” Liam lunges toward Killian’s door, but Emma moves in front of him and places her hands on his chest to stop him. 

 “It’s fine. I got him back.” She smirks. “I turned on his music and cranked up the volume. 

 “I know, I could hear everything,” he grumbles, his eyes focused on Killian’s door. Emma’s still standing in front of him so he won’t go charging in there, but he manages to pound on the door. “What the fuck, Killian?! You don’t go into the bathroom while Emma’s using it! She lives here, too, you wanker!”

 “I already told her I was sorry!” he calls through the door.

 Emma furrows her brows. She thought Killian had said he was sorry for pinning her against the wall and almost kissing her. Or at least, that’s what it seemed like.

 “Sorry, love,” Liam murmurs, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead. “My brother’s a pompous arse sometimes.”

 She can’t disagree with that. This is far from the first time Killian’s been a jerk to her and it won’t be the last. She wishes she and Liam could get a place of their own. What she wouldn’t give to be able to get up in the morning and prance around the apartment half-naked, or even naked if she so chose to be, not having to worry about annoying roommates who only stir up trouble and tell her she’s an awful singer. She knows her boyfriend wants to be close to his brother, but still, how does Liam not get sick of Killian’s shit?

 “It’s fine,” she assures him, looking up into his warm blue eyes. “I just can’t wait until we get a place of our own. Just you and me.” 

 A serene smile stretches over Liam’s lips as he gazes into her eyes and caresses her cheek. “I can’t wait either, baby.” He turns her toward the wall, pressing her back against it, much like Killian had done a few moments ago. Emma moans when she feels Liam’s thickness digging into her thigh. “Then I would get to fuck you whenever I wanted without worrying about my little brother pounding on the wall, telling us to stop.” He lifts her up and she instinctively wraps her legs around his waist as he buries his face in the crook of her neck and gives her a few gentle thrusts. Emma tilts her head back and moans, loving the way his cock feels pressed against her center. He’s wearing boxers, but she can still feel every inch of him.

 “That would be amazing,” she murmurs breathlessly as he leaves a trail of kisses down her neck. 

 “But it might not be such a good idea because then I would never want to leave. I’d want to stay home and make love to you all day.”

 Emma laughs as his words vibrate against her skin. “You’re insatiable.”

 “Can’t help it, love. You’re so bloody gorgeous and perfect. And when you have something rare and precious, you hold onto it and never let it go.”

 Emma’s heart warms, a blissful smile curving her lips. Liam’s sweet lines, no matter how cheesy or sappy, are just some of the reasons why she fell in love with him. He always knows what to say to make her feel special. Emma fists her hands in his hair and pulls his face to hers, capturing his lips for a heated kiss.

 Killian’s bedroom door opens, and he barges through the hallway, bursting their cozy, quiet bubble. “I can’t wait for you two to get your own place either. Then I won’t have to hear you two fucking every goddamn second of the day,” he grumbles as he marches down the hall.

 “Oh, like we’ve never heard you fucking one of your many conquests!” Emma hollers after him.

 “Whatever, I’m taking a shower. I’m late for work and you’re taking too damn long.” 

 Emma’s eyes widen when he disappears into the bathroom, and she releases herself from Liam’s hold and follows Killian, but before she can stop him, he slams the door in her face.

 She’s seeing red as she wiggles the knob and is even more pissed when it’s locked. “You asshole! I have to rinse the shampoo out of my hair since you shut off my shower before I could!”

 He answers by turning on his heavy metal music.

 Emma lets out a frustrated scream and pounds on the door. So much for being at work on time today.

 She’s fucking pissed and about to kick the door, but Liam’s warm arms instantly put her at ease. 

 “Come on, baby, don’t let him get under your skin. Let me make you breakfast while you wait for the shower.”

 Emma relents and goes to her room to grab her bathrobe. She rinses her hair off in the kitchen sink as Liam starts the coffee.

 ~*~

 Killian’s still cursing to himself when Emma’s in the shower for the second time that morning. He tugs on his shirt, hating himself for what he’d done earlier in the hallway. He never should’ve pinned her against the wall and almost kissed the bloody hell out of her, but he’d reacted before he could control himself. 

 When he had pressed her into the wall, she was standing there, dripping wet in nothing but a towel. He can still see the wet spots on the carpet where her hair had dripped to the floor—in his bedroom when she marched in here to turn on his music and outside his door. He’d damn near drooled when he gazed upon the soft swell of her slick breasts, and couldn’t help but notice her pebbled nipples underneath the thin cotton. He could feel her taut nipples against his chest when he pressed himself into her. She was so fucking sexy, and he wanted to pick her up and carry her to his room and have his way with her. Or seeing that she was naked underneath the towel, he wanted to lift her up and just take her there against the wall. It would have been so easy to slide inside of her and just fuck her senseless. Neither of those scenarios was an option, obviously.

 Killian sits on the edge of his bed, sighing into his hands. As much as he pretends to and wishes he actually hated her, he’s unfortunately in love with her. After he found her in his kitchen wearing Liam’s shirt a year ago, he did everything he could to forget about her. He's tried sleeping with other women, he still tries that method, but it never bloody works. It only makes him wish those women were Emma. It makes him want her more. It makes him feel more lonely than he already is.

 Maybe he would've been able to forget about her if she hadn't kept showing up here. And it was bad enough when she and Liam had their sleepovers all the time, but then she moved in eight months ago because she was sick of living with her brother, and Liam was sick of not waking up next to Emma every morning. 

 Killian hates living here with Liam and Emma. He hates having to hear them fuck in the bedroom next to his; he hates having to hear them speak to each other like they’re so fucking in love. It makes him sick. 

 He hates having to witness every milestone in their relationship. He had to listen every time Liam went on about how he was falling for Emma and how she was his soulmate. He had to hear about it when Liam told him he had finally professed his love for her; he had to hear about it when Liam said he could no longer stand living without her, and how he wanted to ask her to move in with him. Liam sought Killian's approval, which he reluctantly gave, and had to hear about Emma’s reaction and how excited she was when she said yes.

 Killian’s had to listen to every conversation Liam and Emma have had when they’re all home at the same time, he’s had to watch them feed each other, he’s had to witness one of them going into the kitchen, grabbing a can of Reddi Whip and heading back to their room countless times. For the past year, he’s had a front-row seat to Liam’s and Emma’s relationship, and he’s hated every fucking second of it.

 In the beginning, Killian had hoped their relationship would be temporary. Emma had been cheated on, too, just like Liam, so they had that in common and it was something they bonded over in the beginning. Killian thought they both just needed to cleanse themselves from their cheating exes, and that they were using each other to do that, but nope. What they had in the beginning went beyond helping each other heal. And Killian can’t blame his brother for wanting something more with Emma. She’s the whole fucking package and Killian knows this just as well as Liam does. It’s the reason why Killian hasn’t been able to tame his feelings for her, even though he knows she’s completely off-limits. 

 He’s happy for Liam, he really is. He’s glad Liam found someone as amazing as Emma. He’s glad Liam is happy. He just wishes he’d never met her at the bar that night. He wishes he’d never set his sights on her so that maybe then he wouldn’t be pining for his brother’s girlfriend. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so head over heels for her. But then again, maybe he would still feel the same way about her, no matter how or when he met her.

 Maybe it’s his fault though. He knows his feelings for her would be so much easier to deal with if he didn’t live with her.

 There have been so many times he told himself he was finding another place to live, but at the end of the day, he talked himself out of it because why should he leave? This was his apartment long before Liam even met Emma. Hell, this was Killian’s apartment before Liam moved in with him. 

 Killian moved here after he graduated from high school and his first roommate wouldn’t leave after not paying his share of the rent for six months. Killian could have gone to court, filled out the paperwork and served him with an eviction notice, which would’ve given his roommate a month to move out. But Killian had another idea in mind that would speed up the process, and all he had to do was beg Liam to go along with it. He got the idea from watching an episode of Friends. The One Where Eddie Won't Go. Chandler couldn’t get his annoying, nut job of a roommate to leave, so when Eddie returns to the apartment the next day, the lock on the door has been changed, Chandler and Joey pretend they don’t know Eddie and they act as though Joey never left. 

 So Killian had something similar in mind. Liam showed up at his apartment and went into the roommate’s bedroom. Together, they gathered his things and started moving them to the front lawn. When the roommate returned later that day, the locks had been changed and Killian opened the door after he heard the incessant pounding and pretended he didn’t remember having another roommate besides his brother. When the guy refused to leave, Liam stood at the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and his intimidating height and size compared to the scrawny, short lad who stood in the hallway, finally left with his tail between his legs. 

 When Liam went back to his and his girlfriend’s flat that night, he walked in on her while she was banging some other guy in the bed they shared. Not wanting to be reminded of what he’d witnessed when he slept in his bed every night, he’s the one who left and never came back. Liam and Killian have lived together in this flat ever since then. And they never heard from Killian’s old roommate ever again.

 So, why should Killian be the one to leave? 

 Then again, if he stays, his feelings for Emma might become even more difficult to shake off. 

 Right, like he could shake them off. If he could, then he would’ve done that long ago.

 ~*~

 “Killian, can I talk to you for a moment?” Liam asks the next day when he steps into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. It’s Saturday, so neither of them is working, and Emma is out shopping with her sister-in-law.

 Killian’s carrying a mug of freshly brewed coffee as he leaves the kitchen, catching the serious expression on his brother's face and in his tone. He's a bit nervous if he’s being honest, certain Liam’s going to chew him out for shutting off Emma’s shower yesterday. Killian was out the door before Liam could say anything to his face about it. He supposes he deserves the lecture, though; he was kind of an arsehole to her. Okay, he was a huge arsehole. But she was being so loud. And yes, she has the voice of an angel, but it doesn't give her the right to wake up the entire apartment building. Prepared for an arse chewing, Killian raises his free hand in surrender. “I promise I didn’t see anything. I was only trying to get her to stop singing—”

 Liam shakes his head before Killian can finish, and drags a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. “That’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

 “Oh. Okay, what is it then?” Killian asks, noticing how nervous Liam appears to be.

 Liam motions to the living room, so they both head to the sofa and take a seat. He draws in a shaky breath and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a velvet box.

 Killian’s eyes widen in horror as he stares at the object. 

  No, please tell me that’s not what I think it is. Please, Liam. Don’t make it so.

 Killian gulps thickly, unable to remove his eyes from the box. He’s never prayed for anything in his entire twenty-three years of living on this earth, but right now he’s praying that whatever’s in that box is not a diamond ring.

 But judging by the smile cracking Liam’s lips, he already knows the words on his tongue before he speaks them. “I’m asking Emma to be my wife.”

  Heart meet dagger.

 Killian feels like the wind has just been knocked out of him, all of the air in the room suddenly gone.

 Liam cracks open the box, showing Killian the ring. It’s a princess cut diamond with a white-gold band. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

 Liam’s waiting for some sort of approval, but all Killian can do is stare at the ring and feel a stab of jealousy. He knows he should be happy and supportive, but he still can’t help but want Emma to be his and not his brother’s. He knows Liam deserves a woman like Emma, though, and she deserves someone like Liam. He’s a good man, and if Killian were forced to pick someone besides himself, he’d pick Liam every time. And if he had to pick someone for Liam, there's no doubt he’d pick her. But that doesn’t make this any less easy.

 Killian clears the frog from his throat. “It’s stunning,” he says with a smile, trying to keep his tone even. “It’s stunning, just like Emma.”

 “That’s exactly what I think too, little brother.” He blows out a wobbly breath. “I’m so bloody nervous about asking her to marry me. We’ve only been together for a year. Well, almost a year, but I know she’s the one for me, Killian. I know it deep in my bones. I’ve known since the night I met her.”

 Killian wants to say he knows the feeling. 

 How is it even possible he and Liam felt the exact same way about the exact same woman that exact same night? 

 She made her choice though, regardless of the chemistry between her and Killian.

 He also knows how Liam feels because, apart from that first week he and Emma were together, he hasn’t exactly kept Killian out of the loop. So Killian’s known every goddamn step of the way how Liam has felt about her. “How will you ask her?”

 “Well . . .” Liam runs his hand through his hair nervously and stares off into space, as though he’s playing the scenario in his head. “For our one-year anniversary, I want to have a picnic on the lake where we went on our first date. Which reminds me . . .” Liam looks at Killian, appearing a bit skittish about something, “I wanted to ask you if I can borrow your motorcycle.”

 Killian furrows his brows. “But you hate my bike. When I first got it, you kept telling me how dangerous it was, and when I taught you how to ride it, you said you never wanted to be on it again.”

 “I know… but I want this proposal to be special, and I always catch Emma staring at your bike whenever we’re getting into my car.”

 “You do?”

 “Aye. And she’s mentioned she’s never ridden a motorcycle before, so I wanted her to have that experience. I want to do something with her she might enjoy before I pop the big question, you know? So she doesn’t think I’ll be one of those vanilla husbands who doesn’t know how to have fun.”

 Killian’s heart clenches. How many times has he dreamt about taking Emma for a ride on his motorcycle? How many times has he dreamt of having her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight as they rode his bike? 

 “Then after we eat and have some wine, we’ll walk along the beach, and when the moment feels right, I’ll get down on one knee.”

 Killian swallows hard. The scenario Liam is painting sounds absolutely perfect, and he knows Emma will love it. He knows Emma’s not a grand gesture type of lass, and what Liam has planned is the perfect combination of grand and simple. 

 “So, what do you say, can I use it?” 

 When Killian witnesses the spark in Liam’s eyes, he can’t help but say, “Of course. You can use it for as long as you’d like.”

 “Thank you, Killian,” he says appreciatively, clasping his hands together as he leans forward and perches his elbows on his knees. “I also have another favor to ask of you.”

 Killian quirks a brow as he sets his mug on the coffee table. “I’m afraid to ask.” He laughs, but he actually is afraid to ask.

 Liam chuckles. “Relax, I only wanted to ask if you’d be my best man. You’re not only my brother . . .” his face grows serious as he looks Killian dead in the eyes, “you’re my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine anyone else standing up there beside me as I marry the woman of my dreams. I imagine it’ll take a while to plan the wedding, and the earliest it would be is next year, but—” 

 “I’d be honored,” Killian cuts him off, swallowing hard. It feels like Liam just drove the dagger deeper into his chest. 

 As honored as he is for Liam to ask him to be his best man, he can’t stand at the altar and watch the woman of his dreams marry his brother. He just can’t. But he can’t possibly tell Liam that. 

 A big grin overtakes Liam’s face as he pulls Killian in for a big hug. 

 “I’m happy for you,” Killian expresses hoarsely, trying to ignore how crushed he feels. “You deserve it, brother,” he says genuinely. 

 “Thank you, Killian. That means a lot,” Liam says as they break the hug. “Now just hope I can grow some balls to get down on one knee, and pray she says yes.” 

 “She’ll say yes, I know she will, Liam,” he says sincerely, patting his brother on the shoulder. He knows deep down Liam and Emma are perfect for each other, no matter how much he wants to deny it.

 “You really think so?” Liam is asking hopefully. 

 And right now, Killian can’t help but smile. If Liam were proposing to any other woman, Killian would be so bloody happy for him. So he shoves away the fact that it’s Emma they’re talking about so he can just be there for his brother like Liam needs him to be. “Aye. There is no one more perfect for you than her.”

 Liam grins from ear to ear. “At least we can agree on one thing,” he chuckles. “I love her so bloody much.” His face suddenly clouds with something Killian can’t quite put his finger on, and once again, Liam appears to be nervous. “That brings me to the final thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

 “Okay,” Killian gulps. He has a bad feeling about what the next thing might be, though it can’t possibly be worse than telling him he’s proposing to the same woman Killian’s completely in love with or asking Killian to stand beside Liam as he watches Emma marry someone else.

 “I need you to be nice to Emma,” he says in a condemning tone. “She thinks you hate her.”

 Guilt clenches Killian’s heart, and as much as he knows he should be nice to the woman who will be Liam’s future wife, he knows agreeing to be nice to Emma is like agreeing to jump into quicksand.

 For the past year, Killian’s had to pretend to hate Emma because he knows if he and Emma end up becoming friends, then he’ll be tempted to act on his feelings for her, and he can’t let that happen. He can’t do that to Liam. So, there’s only one other option.

 Killian has to move out, and he needs to move out soon. Until that happens, he has to throw on a smile and pretend everything is hunky-dory. “I don’t hate her,” he manages, trying to shove all of his emotions down his throat. 

 “Good, then act like it. If she says yes when I propose, she’ll be your sister-in-law soon, so get used to that idea.”

 Killian tears his gaze from Liam, unable to look at his brother right now. He feels like his ears are bleeding. Like his heart is bleeding. Liam has no idea how much his words just gutted him. He could never get used to being Emma’s . . .

 No, he can’t even think about the idea. He could never consider Emma as his sister-in-law, and there’s no way he could ever be a brother figure to her. There’s just no bloody way. He’s wanked off while thinking about her for crying out fucking loud.

 “You don’t have to worry, I promise I’ll be nicer to Emma.” Even as Killian makes the promise, he can feel himself being pulled in by the quicksand.

 “Thank you, Killian.”

 When they stand, Killian tells him he’s going to the gym. He needs to relieve some of the pain bubbling inside his chest and figure out how the bloody hell he’s going to win this internal battle inside him, or if he ever will. He should have seen this coming though. He knows Liam has been serious about Emma from the beginning.

 He changes into his gym clothes, and once the cool breeze hits his face, once Liam is no longer near him, he can finally breathe, but even then, the surrounding air feels paper-thin. He’s barely able to suck in enough oxygen to make his heart not feel so heavy.

 He puts on his helmet and hops on his bike, driving out of the parking lot and trying to figure out how the bloody hell to get out of this predicament.

 As much as he loves Liam, he can’t fucking do this. Any of it. He can’t be Liam’s best man, he can’t give a best man speech and tell everyone how bloody happy he is for the bride and groom while he’ll actually be dying inside. He can’t live with them for one more bloody second, and he sure as hell can’t be her brother-in-law.

 Which leaves Killian with only one choice.

 He needs to get out of Storybrooke. And he needs to get out soon.

  Tagging people who have shown interest. Let me know if you would like to be added or if I missed you. @itsfabianadocarmo @resident-of-storybrooke @snowbellewells @onceuponaprincessworld @viajandosinalas @teamhook @captainswan-shipper88 @jamif​ @katielovesstarcrossedlovers @uhthreeyuh @lfh1226-linda @babyyouremyqueen @sthonour @julesep3026 @fairytalewhispersinmyheart @andiirivera @wefoundloveunderthelight @wickedsw4n @eleveneitherway @eherron14 @ouatpost @transparentclodsludgeweasel @stahlop​

[yoonjinkooked]

Daddy Day Care | Chapter 4

pairing; jungkook/female OC

genre; fluff, romcom, smutty in the future, Dad!Jungkook rating; explicit (IN FUTURE CHAPTERS ONLY, not yet) words; this chapter 5001 (lol), total so far (18.547) Ch 1 / Ch 2 / Ch 3

— synopsis; Jeongguk is your average 25-year-old - job, work, friends - everything regular. Except, he has a 5 year old daughter. And he’s single. Until a “princess” waltzes into his life.

warnings for this chapter: You still very much want to have Jungkook’s children. Cursing & Banter. Traces of Jinslut. JK is hopeless. You’re going to want to punch and hug him at the same time. Unable-to-flirt and struggle-to-adult Jungkook. A/N: PLEASE have mercy on me if there are any mistakes, English has been kicking my ass lately. Hope you enjoy. Sorry it took me this long. Let me know what you think, my ask is always open <3

It took no less than 10 minutes for me to see and understand why Eunmi is as whipped for Gayoon as she is. See, when you’re five, adults seem so cool, so serious, so grown up. Parents are parents, even if they are cool, they are simply not cool enough. If there is an adult in the mix that is old enough for it to be WOW to a five year old and also doesn’t have the responsibility of being the parent – jackpot.

Eunmi was acting like she and Gayoon are attached by the hip and Gayoon just played along with it. Even when Eunmi wanted to show her every single toy she has, even when she took her by the hand and dragged her away to show her every possible corner of the apartment. What would normally at some point become annoying to anyone, even me as her father, Gayoon took like a champ and not only played along, but actually seem interested. Hell, she even asked Eunmi questions.

She’s a natural and I can see why she’s Eunmi’s favorite teacher. I’m also suddenly very glad Yuki insisted that we pay an insane tuition for Eunmi to go to a private kindergarten.

And the little one did not hold back – she clung onto Gayoon like a koala. So much so that I got a heavy case of second hand embarrassment with how clingy she was being. I’m just glad she’s five – no matter what she does, ‘she’s five’ is always an excuse to get us out of any mess.

Two hours from the moment we stepped into the apartment and one impromptu tea party with stuffed animals, Eunmi managed to doze off, despite the excitement she had been feeling the entire day. Her words were dragged and her eyelids were barely open but she still refused to nap – until her head fell down onto Gayoon’s lap, her lips open and eyes shut.

“Let me help you with that,” I smile at Gayoon, keeping my voice low and my hands gentle as I pick Eunmi up, very careful not to move her around in my arms too much. She normally sleeps like a log but I can’t risk it – if she wakes up not only will she be cranky but she will probably refuse to sleep again. Not that it would do her much good, seeing as her eyes simply refused to stay open.

“Wait, let me help you,” Gayoon whispers as she gets up from the couch, walking in front of me to open the door of Eunmi’s room for me to walk through. I put Eunmi down on the bad, smiling when I notice her signature nose scrunch – for a second, I freeze, scared that she will wake but it turns out to be a false alarm. Very gently, I tuck her in and put her favorite teddy bear underneath her arm. Gayoon closes the door after me, smiling at Eunmi. “She is beyond cute.”

“I know,” I smile stupidly, unable to ignore the urge to gush about how adorable Eunmi actually is. “She is a little cutie but she already has a temper,” I add.

“No,” she laughs and shakes her head as we make our way back to the couch. “I don’t think she does. I suppose she can be a bit tricky but you have no idea how bad the other kids can be,” she tells me, giving me a pointed look as she reaches for her cup of hot chocolate – hot chocolate she had to help me with because I nearly burnt it. “There’s a reason Eunmi is one of my favorites.”

“Is she good to others?” I ask, making Gayoon look at me in confusion. “I mean, I’ve never heard anything about her fighting with other kids but… is it really like that or do teachers just say that to make parents relax and don’t ask stupid questions?”

“Oh boy,” she chuckles, smiling at me. Yeah, that’s the kind of smile that makes me swallow a lump when it’s directed at me. “It’s really like that. We wouldn’t lie, at least I wouldn’t. It’s important for parents to know what their kid is actually like, even if that means that they sometimes hear something they’d rather not know of. You have no reason to worry, though. Eunmi is a proper sweetheart and she’s nice to everyone. She’s also not a pushover, so don’t worry – she would hold her ground if need be.”

“Good,” I breathe a sigh of relief. “You’d think that after five years, I’d be sure of myself and of what I’m doing but most days… I swear I’m more like a headless chicken than a fully functioning adult,” I admit.

“Oh come on, we all have our headless chicken moments,” she reassures me, a smile still plastered on her face. “She’s your only child, it’s not like you have experience of raising one. I’d say both you and her mother are doing a good job. Both in general and in your circumstances.”

“What circumstances?” I ask, noticing that she suddenly looks uncomfortable. She’s looking away and her face is the face of someone who said something they shouldn’t have said. “If you’re referring to us being young, we’re well aware of that,” I laugh.

“It’s not that,” she shakes her head. “You’re young, of course you know that. But it’s one thing to have a teacher of your daughter point it out in a way that might sound condescending, even though it isn’t.”

“Don’t worry, I truly didn’t take it that way,” I tell her. And I mean it. “I was just confused as to which circumstance you’re referring to, us being young or separated, because both are quite specific circumstances and both are very much true.”

“Age can mean something, in my opinion, but it’s definitely not a rule,” she tells me. “Like I’ve said before, we can all be headless chickens every now and then. And as for the two of you being separated, I will let you know that my mother raised Jimin and myself all on her own, since Jimin was three and I a baby. So yeah, circumstances be damned.”

“That’s quite impressive,” I nod. I never knew that Mrs. Park was a single mom but then again, I had no clue Jimin was her son either, and I just recently saw Gayoon for the first time, so I probably shouldn’t be surprised how little I know about Mrs. Park’s family tree. “You’re one of the few people that actually don’t appear all judgy and mighty. I’ve gotten used to it by now – half the parents of Eunmi’s classmates look at me like I’m a high schooler or something.”

“Jeongguk… more often than not, you or Eunmi’s mother pick her up from kindergarten before other parents do. You both pick her up early to try and spend more time with her. Some of those kids stay in the kindergarten until five, six PM. I understand that many of those parents have jobs and obligations but so do you. And yet you still do it. If I were you, I wouldn’t worry too much about what they think.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are just a nice person?” I ask.

Fuck, verbal diarrhea. Why did I say that? It is true, I’m not denying that but why did I say it? I could have just said thank you or something like that. Well, at least I didn’t say that she’s the nicest person on the planet – it could have been worse.

“I’m not gonna lie, I have heard it before,” she laughs. “But it’s always a good thing to hear. And you seem pretty nice too.”

“Even with a daughter that clings onto you like a koala?” Jesus Christ, Jeon Jeongguk, shut the fuck up!

“Well, if you don’t mind me being honest, she’s the best part,” I laugh at her comment. She’s not wrong – Eunmi is the best part of me. She’s the best thing I’ve ever done and pretty much the only thing in my life I am genuinely and completely proud of. If someone thinks she’s the best thing about me, I’ll gladly take it.

“I’m sorry we kidnapped you for the whole of Christmas Day,” I tell her, feeling guilt rise again. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t expecting to stay at our place for three hours and counting. “I’m sorry if we ruined some plans for you. I’m an idiot who forgets his wallet everywhere he goes and Eunmi didn’t want to let go of you.”

“No, it’s okay,” she shakes her head, smiling with that adorable, small smile that makes me swoon and want to punch something at the same time. “I was literally working back at the kindergarten. We had a family lunch and we all went our separate ways. The only plan I had was Netflix and food. I got cake, Super Mario and a tea party, so I would say the day was quite fruitful.”

“Would you like to add some wine into the mix too? Eunmi seemed pretty knocked out, we can be adults until she wakes up?” I suggested.

Perfect, you fucking fucktard idiot person! You are literally asking your daughter’s kindergarten teacher to get drunk with you in your apartment while your daughter is sleeping in the next room. Are you absolutely out of your mind? She’ll run and probably get Eunmi expelled or something.

“That sounds like a great idea,” she surprisingly agrees. “I’ll just call Jimin to let him know he should take a taxi when he leaves for home so that he can drive me and my car back home.”

“Perfect.”

  For a usually quiet person, I realize that I am surprisingly chatty with her. In the little I’ve known Gayoon, she always seemed like a good listener. She would listen carefully, nodding along and looking directly at you, asking you questions when you pause for a breath. We had red wine and talked just about anything and everything until Eunmi woke up. Before we ended up playing Super Mario, we talked about her, about how difficult it is to raise kids, how difficult it is to work with kids, how I never thought I’d end up being an office worker and how Gayoon was positive she would end up opening a bakery.

Hours passed in good fun and before we knew it, it was Eunmi’s bedtime and of course, my daughter had to backstab me and refuse my offer to read her a story and saying she’d rather have Gayoon read it for her. I got a pat on the back from Gayoon, probably because I looked and felt like a kicked puppy, before she agreed to read her a story.

I was leaned on the door, listening to the two of them talk about princess and mermaids, because not a single page could go by without Eunmi asking both related and unrelated questions.

The teacher in Gayoon was present – well, either that or the fact that she actually does seem like a genuinely good person. She clicked with Eunmi so well, I could feel my heart swell.

I have only ever seen Yuki acting this way with her. Perhaps Byulyi and Hyejin, occasionally, but never anyone else. She… she seemed almost motherly. After having random girls run from me because I’m a father, run from me as if I am the plague itself, it’s quite shocking to see someone not doing the same thing. Of course, the context is different – Gayoon hasn’t shown a particular interest to get into my pants, nor have I shown interest to get into hers, at least I don’t think so. The context is different but it still feels so damn nice to see someone being so good with Eunmi.

I don’t move from my place until Gayoon does, moving gently to tuck Eunmi in and smiling up at me as I turn off the lights and make my way back to the living room. She closes the door carefully, quietly and smiles at me again. “I hope this wasn’t too much – I just can’t say no to her.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” I shake my head immediately. “Thank you. Thank you for doing that. Whenever she’s not with Yuki, I feel as if I’m not… you know, doing it well.”

“Please,” she rolls her eyes. “You’re much better at this than I am. Being a teacher and nice to kids is nothing more than my job – this is the role of your lifetime and you’re playing it perfectly, from what I’ve seen so far.”

“It’s almost sickening how nice you are.”

She bursts into laughter, quickly covering her mouth, not wanting to wake the little one up. I was wrong when I thought her smile is the most charming thing about her – now that I heard genuine, surprised and uncontrolled laughter, even if for a second, I know this one takes the cake.

For someone her age, our age, she sure does have a childlike laughter. And I’m pretty sure I’m staring at her now. Good work, Don Juan! How very smooth of you!

“I’m not that nice,” she shakes her head. “But I do have to say that… Oh!” she hurries to answer her phone, pulling it out of her pocket in the speed of light before the ringtone manages to wake Eunmi up. I even manage to recognize the ringtone. I pull the song out from the old, forgotten, punk brain of mine – The Ramones, ‘She talks to rainbows’. Of all the songs I expected to hear coming from her phone, this was not the one. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll be down,” she ends the call. “Jimin’s waiting for me.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, thank you for bringing me my wallet. And staying with us. And playing with Eunmi. And talking to me. And reading her a story. Yeah, thank you for everything, I guess.”

Nice work, Romeo. Smooth talker, that’s what you are. Smooth fucking criminal.

“Stop thanking me,” she laughs as she moves towards the hallway, grabbing her purse and jacket from where I hanged them earlier. “I had fun. It’s safe to say we’re friends now – and friends do spend time with each other and their kids. And they give each other cake and bring each other lost wallets, so stop thanking me so much.”

“In that case, thank you for a lovely day.”

Okay, that actually was smooth.

“Hmm,” she narrows her eyes at me. “I’ll take that one.”

Before I could say anything or think about the position of my hands, she hugs me. I am completely frozen for a moment, before I realize that I have less than a second to react before she pulls away and this turns more awkward than it already is. So I hug her back, tapping her shoulder with my hand. She smiles as she pulls away and my face is probably nothing more than a painful grimace.

“I’ll see you around,” she smiles. “If you ever need a babysitter, you know my number.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I chuckle. “Merry Christmas Gayoon.”

“Merry Christmas Jeongguk.”

I stand at the door as she walks down the hallway, waving like a complete idiot even though she doesn’t turn around – I’m waving and she doesn’t even see it. I shake my head, snapping out of it and closing the door before she has a chance to see me standing here like a complete idiot.

I close the door, lock it and bang my head on it, hard enough for it to be painful, faint enough to keep Eunmi asleep and Gayoon unaware.

I think I’m in the beginning stage of having a crush on my daughter’s kindergarten teacher.

  “Could you at least try to pretend like you’re having a good time?”

The problem is, I did. For a good half hour, I looked like the very gif of The Office’s Michael Scoot gritting his teeth and looking as awkward as possible. For half an hour I did my very best to look as if I am having the time of my life.

The truth is, I don’t remember the last time I felt as uncomfortable as I do now. Seokjin insisted that I should not be alone on New Year’s Eve, which is exactly why I ended up following him to what he called the hottest club in town. Him and six of his best mates, most of whom I’ve known for years, but in passing, as I never really wanted to be a part of their sausage fest. Which is exactly what I am now.

Seven men and me, as bored and as uncomfortable as I could possibly be.

They come here with a goal – get drunk and get laid. And I just want to be home, in my sweatpants, eating ramen and playing Super Mario or finally catching up with Black Mirror. Literally, every possible scenario that includes me staying at home is better than the current situation.

My brain is one generic EDM song away from turning into pudding and my stomach is one fruity drink away from giving up on everything. I’m a stay-at-home, beer-drinking kind of guy. This is not my place.

So, to answer Seokjin’s question – no, I can no longer even try to pretend like I’m having a good time.

“I’m sorry,” I sigh, watching him shake his head in disappointment. While I know he’s joking, I also know that my mood is affecting his and the last thing I want to do is ruin his night – New Year’s Eve, of all nights. I don’t want to be that person, I hate to be that person but I can’t fight it. “It’s just not my scene.”

“You always adapted before. This isn’t your first rodeo,” he tells me and honestly, he’s right. I used to go out with him before and while it was never my favorite thing to do, I could handle it.

“I don’t know, I think I just have too much on my mind,” I yell, in order to overpower the bass.

“You’re thinking about your girl?” Seokjin yells back at me.

“No,” I shake my head. “I mean, I always think about her but it’s the way it is – I had her for Christmas, Yuki has her for New Year’s Eve. It’s the fairest deal possible.”

“I’m not talking about Eunmi,” Seokjin laughs. “I’m talking about her teacher. You know, the girl you’re crushing on?”

I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to tell Seokjin about it. I guess I expected advice, seeing as he’s my big brother and a ladies man extraordinaire. Instead of a good, solid piece of advice or even a rude wakeup call while reminding me that she is my daughter’s teacher, I just got laughed at. I called him the same night Gayoon left my apartment, and since then, not a day has passed without him mentioning it in a way that could appear humorous to anyone but me.

“Seokjin, I’ve told you, I am not crushing on her.”

“No, you just like her,” he corrects me and leans over to yell directly into my ear. “Look, you are making questionable choices because you can’t even remember the last time you had anything with any woman. You’re over Yuki and you’re not ready for commitment again but you need to get yourself out there and do something because crushing on your daughter’s teacher is not a common storyline. Find someone else to crush on before you and your ex need to change your daughter’s kindergarten!”

God, he’s right. Yuki will kill me if we have to change Eunmi’s kindergarten and judging by the way Eunmi seems to be attached to her friends and even Gayoon herself, she’d kill me to. I’d rather wait for her teenage years before I hear the first “I hate you” from her.

“Or, if you’re really hung up on her, ask her out,” Seokjin completely changes his story. “Just pick a side. Either grow a pair or take your pick,” he waves his hand around, as if he’s showing me all that the club has to offer. Outside the sausage fest we are in, the club really is full of girls our age, most of them in a pack with other girls, very probably looking for a hook up, the same way all of Seokjin’s friends know that if all goes according to plan, not a single one of them will be going home alone.

It’s like watching National Geographic or something. Two packs of opposite genders eyeing each other from different sides of the club, picking their pray and getting all hyped up before they strike. Words of encouragement shared, pats on the shoulders, a few giggles here and there and the plan is set in motion. Of course, not all is a hunting field – there are packs that are here just to have fun. I can see a group of laughing and dancing people who are…

“Holy shit, that’s her!” I all but yell, pointing to the dance floor.

“Her who?” Seokjin looks around.

“Gayoon, Eunmi’s teacher.”

For a second, I am sure that I am imagining things but as I watch her throw her head back while laughing, I am positive that it is Gayoon – it’s just not the Gayoon I saw a few days ago. This Gayoon has fairly shorter and curly hair – she had pretty long hair the other day. And this Gayoon is definitely not wearing the casual clothes Gayoon from the other day was wearing – unless a tight, black dress can count as casual. I’m a guy – what do I know?

“Wait, which girl are you talking about?” Seokjin asks as he leans into me, wanting a better view.

“Shoulder length hair, black dress.”

“Holy shit!” he yells and for a second, I forget we’re in a night club and my blood freezes, thinking that Gayoon must have heard him. “That’s Eunmi’s teacher?! No wonder you’re dying to live out a teacher kink!”

“She’s not MY teacher, you idiot!” I smack him on the shoulder, making him laugh out loud. I’m not laughing – this is becoming too much. “It’s not like that.”

“Looking at her, it should be like that,” Seokjin comments.

“You don’t get it,” I shake my head – of course Seokjin would not get it. He’s been in love once and after that particular train wreck, he hasn’t bothered looking for anything other than easy sex. “Yeah, she’s pretty and yeah she’s hot but she’s actually nice and friendly and most importantly, good with Eunmi.”

“You don’t know what you want,” Seokjin shakes his head.

“Yeah, because I can’t develop a proper interest into someone after like… a few hours spent with them! Just as I don’t want to have a one night stand with my daughter’s teacher! Of course I don’t know what I want – I might not even want anything and am just confused! I don’t know what I want and it would be very weird if I did!” I yell over the music.

“Well, I think she knows what she wants,” he nods his head and when I look back to Gayoon, I can see what he means – she’s definitely closer to one of the guys in her group than she was just seconds ago. They are dancing together, they’re bodies almost completely pressed together, his hands on her hips as they sway together, much too slow for the beat that’s threatening to make my brain explode.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Go there! Say hi! Talk to her! Dance with her! Get to her before he does!” he tries to push me away from our booth but I stay frozen, shaking my head.

“Nah, I just told you. I don’t know what I want and judging by that,” I wave my hand to her and the guy she is dancing with. “It’s a bit too late anyways.”

I have no right to sulk, I know that very well. Not once did Gayoon show any signs of being interested in me in any way other than a teacher-parent one, perhaps a friendly one too. She did not flirt, she did not say anything that would make me wonder if it has a double meaning and let’s not forget about the crushed mistletoe. Not to mention that I haven’t done anything either – of course I didn’t, I just think I might kind of like her.

I have no right to sulk at the sight of her expressing interest in another man and even though I try to fight it, I know I end up pouting, sitting in the booth and glaring towards them, sipping on the shitty cocktail Seokjin insisted on buying for me.

“You’re a complete idiot,” is Seokjin’s conclusion he reaches while looking at me in disappointment.

“Maybe I am.”

  15 minutes after the clock strikes midnight and the whole club drunkenly yells New Year’s greetings – that’s the time limit I’ve given myself. Long enough to not seem rude, just enough to not lose my mind.

“You’re actually leaving?” Seokjin once again looks disappointed. As bad as I feel, he had it coming. He knew I was not going to enjoy myself, he knew this is not my scene in any way. As bad as I feel for leaving him, one – I know he won’t miss me and 2 – he should be the one to feel bad for dragging me out to begin with.

“I handled it for as long as I could. Happy New Year, brother,” I pat him on the back and make my way through the ocean of bodies, towards the exit. I don’t look back, not to Seokjin, not to Gayoon.

I made a point of not looking her way for as long as I have been in the club – staring at her just seemed a bit too creepy, especially given that she was obviously pretty close to hooking up with the guy she was dancing with. It felt creepy, wrong and uncomfortable – so I decided to simply not look her way while I was there. I doubt she saw me but if she did, she made no move to approach me.

Outside, the weather and the atmosphere is hellish – snow started falling again and I obviously wasn’t the only one with the thoughts of leaving early – one by one, groups of people were getting into lined up taxis, while others were waiting for the next ones to drive by. Imagining the price I’ll have to pay for the drive back home on New Year’s Eve felt like a punch to the gut.

“Jeongguk?!”

Oh crap.

I want to hide, I really do. Maybe it would be believable if I don’t respond? It’s pretty crowded, I think I can play it off as if I hadn’t heard her. “Jeongguk!” her voice is raised now, as she is obviously certain that she’s not imagining things. I can’t hide.

I turn around, pretending to look confused and I see her walking my way, still in that short sleeved dress, looking as if she’s freezing her butt of, but still smiling at me. She even has blue highlights in her hair. I don’t know what happened to Gayoon from the other day.

“Oh! Hi! Hey! Happy New Year!” I sound like an idiot to myself but really, what else can I do?

“Happy New Year!” she beams up at me as she stops a few feet away. “Were you here the whole night?”

“Yeah, my brother dragged me out,” I roll my eyes. “I am escaping now. You’re leaving too?” I ask, noticing that the guy she was dancing with doesn’t seem to be around.

“No, not yet – I’m here with Jimin and a group of our friends, I can’t leave without them,” she explains. “I just thought I needed a bit of fresh air, after one too many tequila shots,” she adds, although she doesn’t appear to be drunk at all. “In hindsight, stupid idea – it’s freezing.”

“What happened to… No, never mind,” I stop myself at the last moment.

“What happened to what?”

“No, nothing.”

“Jeongguk, don’t be that person,” she laughs. “I hate it when people do that. Spill it.”

“What happened to cold never bothering you anyway?” I utter my lame joke, watching as she frowns in confusion – it takes her a moment to realize what exactly I’m referring to but when she finally connects the dots, she seems equally amused and pissed.

“I hate you,” she tries to sound serious but I can tell she’s fighting off a smile.

“You set yourself up for that one,” I laugh. We might not be friends now, hell, we might not even be friends in the future, but after our meeting, I am forever entitled to make Frozen jokes on her expense.

“The price I pay,” she sighs before smiling again. “Anyways, I’d better go inside before I turn into Olaf,” it’s a bad joke but I still laugh – that’s what she’s making me do now. I’m laughing at fairly stupid jokes. This isn’t good. “I’ll see you around. Happy New Year Jeongguk.”

“Happy New Year Gayoon,” I smile, waving at her once before she wobbles back inside the club, still trying to keep herself warm with her arms wrapped around her body – she’s right, it was stupid to go outside in this weather without a jacket. I should have offered her mine.

On the drive back to my place, I stare through the window and watch all the drunk, well-dressed people stumbling around, laughing, hugging one another. I watch and wonder when that stopped being me. I wonder if even I miss that being me.

The only conclusion I could come up with is that maybe Seokjin was right after all. Maybe I am a complete idiot.

[sweeethinny]

Reputation - Look What You Made Me Do (Chapter 5)

this time it didn't take me so long :) I had difficulties with the ending but I think I managed to finish it in a decent way (thank to @harrys-wheezys who help me, saying about how the war had changed them, and they realizing it :))

keep commenting, i love reading your opinions 

AO3

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I don't like your little games Don't like your tilted stage

''Look what they wrote about us!" Harry looked at her, a little still tired from the morning sex round, his brain soft and with little ability to understand anything but Ginny's naked breasts, right next to him ''Harry Potter , 32, Order of Merlin blah blah blah, was seen chatting animatedly alongside another ex- Holyhead Harpies player, other than his wife, Ginny Potter (or can we call her Weasley again?)'' Ginny turned her head to him, a little too furious for nine on a cold Sunday morning "Terry is a lesbian! And she knows it."

''Why do you still buy this?'' Harry yawned, cuddling up to her chest, smiling at the softness of her breasts, better than the pillows, as he felt her nails on his scalp, almost driving him back to sleep.

''Why do I need to know what they are saying about us?'' He knew it wasn't really a question, so he kept quiet ''Forbidden romance is a hell. They've been separating us for years now, do you remember that about our marriage?'' 

Rita no longer wrote alone, now she shared the gossip podium with Beau Miller, a man no one really knew where he came from, and seemed to have won people's hearts more for his beauty than for the work itself.

'' ..Of course, what he writes is pure shit ' Harry grunted angrily, throwing the newspaper into the fire and watching it burn, irritated that he said that about Ginny ''They said she has kept me under the love potion .. Ginevra Weasley! The woman who knows very well what it is to have no control over yourself while someone else manipulates you like a puppet, would make me drink love potions! ' Harry clapped his hand on the table, suddenly feeling like he was on edge. .

He thanked for being alone.

''Is the future Potter keeping our chosen one under a potion? ' Harry feigned a very forced accent, his hand on his chest while blinking pompously into nothingness ''To hell with 'Our Chosen One' ''

It was just as irritating how much they got into their lives, saying filthy things about the two, making silly assumptions about betrayals, love potions, and even a teenage pregnancy - the picture of Ginny with Teddy in her arms gave them that.

Harry was so tired, especially now in the week of their wedding, where he was so nervous and upset that he thought he was about to fall to the floor with a heart attack. And it made it worse that Ginny was in France with Fleur, for something about her dress.

They always made him look like a fool, and Harry definitely hated them.

And it was with this resignation that he left his office, marching furiously to the building where the Prophet was.

 The role you made me play Of the fool, no, I don't like you

 ''How to forget? I think Beau is still scared of me'' He laughed nasally, hugging the woman's waist and burying his head more in her breasts ''But it wasn't just me who did it, if I remember correctly, in your seventh year you also lost the head''

''She caught me on a bad day'' Ginny defended herself

 It was supposed to be a calm Quidditch Final, at least it was what she expected.

She was prepared to face Ravenclaw with all her blood, determined to win and make use of all those training sessions under the rain and mornings that had barely emerged. She would win.

Harry being there, helped a lot too.

''If we win .. '' She said when the two met in the locker room still empty, for just one conversation.

"When you win," he said, kissing the tip of her nose before listening to her again, with all his attention and affection.

But then there was the press, as usual, and Rita Skeeter was there too, asking about silly stuff.

Ginny was on the edge, missing her stupid boyfriend who got bogged down with jobs until he missed the last trip to Hogsmeade, afraid to lose, eager to have scouts in the audience who would assess her potential to the last drop, judging her good or not for her team, nervous about the exam of her NIEM's next week .. It was so much, that having Rita distorting her words was not a real desire.

That smile ... Ginny was so eager to take it away.

I don't like your perfect crime How you laugh when you lie

''But Mrs Weasley, have you been playing just to impress a certain person? ' That had been the question after Ginny had scored 8 goals in less than an hour, and helped Gryffindor to win the Cup and being an incredible captain, being quite modest.

Of course, because everything about her was always intertwined, in some way, with Harry.

With little patience left, she decided to smile sarcastically as took the feather in her hand and kneaded it until there were no more pieces left, approaching the woman in a very unfriendly way, which made her startle and take two steps back, cowardly

''Yes, and I've been well rewarded for that. As you can see .. '' She waved her notebook with her wand, making it burn and end up nothing less than dust on the dirty floor of the locker room ''I'm great with my hands''

You said the gun was mine Isn't cool, no, I don't like you (oh!)

 ''You're really good with your hands'' Harry kissed the one who was resting beside him on the bed, also kissing her finger with their wedding ring, feeling the cold gold against his lips

''Thank you, I got better with time... You are lucky that I don't mind all these intrusions, because I already received some invitations to run away from you'' The man laughed, lifting his chin to look at her, green eyes playing fun

''I can't even believe what made you stay'' Ginny shrugged, smiling and running her nails over his shoulders

''Your fortune, of course''

 ''Ginny Potter getting married out of interest?

That's right wizard world, the Quidditch Team's great player,  Holyhead Harpies, received a marriage proposal from a Puddlemere United Team player, which we were unable to identify. And he claims that Ginny Potter told him that she will only marry Harry Potter because of his fortune.

More information on page 15.''

''Does the man say that but they don't know who he is?'' She snorted ''She loves to make me look like a disguised bitch'' Harry barely looked up from Ron's letter, drinking his coffee and wondering if he should get a piece of cake or cookies.

''She does it because she knows you read and it hits you ' The bride turned like a rabid dog towards him

''Hit me? Please, Harry! I am furious that they do not destroy the image of a man who proposed to a committed person, but make up this shit about me .. I'm sure that tonight she will be there'' The Ministry party, the one that the two tried to make up any excuse for not to go, but that in the end, he had been obliged to attend. ''Do you know something? I will use the diamonds you gave me. And I'm going to buy a new dress.'' Ginny got up from the table

''I thought diamonds would be for special occasions'' He joked, still not looking at her

"And isn't that special?" He risked looking at her; her cheeks flushed like fire, hair up in a quick bun and his shirt as pajamas ''Wear your expensive suit too. We will be the most glamorous couple of that idiot party'' And then she left, stomping firmly and still babbling curses along the way.

 [...]

''How I look?'' Ginny came out of the closet, and Harry started to wonder if they really needed to go to that stupid party, or if he could invent a disease that made him stuck at home.

She was stunning, the dress was golden and long, falling very close to her body and with straps so thin that he didn’t know how they didn’t split in half, a straight neckline that made her breasts look so stunning it was like he was 17 years and be embarrassed to see them. Her hair was tied in a neat bun, the diamond earrings matched the ring he had given her last month, delicate but shiny like party globes. Her lips were blood red, her eyes painted black and gold that made Harry forget the time she had spent in the bathroom.

''Wow'' He blinked a few times, watching her approach and fix his tie, blinking innocently and laughing

''Thank you my love, you are also beautiful ..'' Her hands smoothed the suit well aligned, seeming to approve that he had listened to her and put on the expensive piece ''I loved the gold buttons, they really make a great pair with my dress'' Ginny put her arm through his ''Can we go, Mr Potter? I need to parade with my rich fiance around.''

''I never felt so happy that I was being extorted'' They laughed, finishing getting what they needed before apparating to the Ballroom who were told it would be the event, identifying themselves at the entrance and smiling at the first camera that appeared , ignoring all the looks that some gave him "I come back from the dead, but what they care about is whether my future wife is about to kill me to keep my fortune or not .. "

But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time

''Because it sells more newspapers when they talk about a selfish bitch'' Ginny faked a smile ''Look, everyone commenting about us.' The circle of journalists seemed about to burst with excitement when they saw them coming in, ignoring anyone else more important that it passed them, seeming to argue about who should go to the couple first

"They must be arguing about what you had to do to get these earrings"

''I hope they're being creative .. Just a blowjob wouldn't pay'' Harry laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist and bowing a little - she was on heels, they weren't so different in height now - to whisper;

''But I wouldn't mind buying you jewelry for every time you have your mouth full ' The woman blushed, biting her lip and looking at it boldly

''I'll have an arsenal of them then'' Before he could make any further comments, their names were called, and Rita Skeeter was right there in front, smiling from ear to ear

''Mr and Mrs Potter.'' Her false tone got to make Harry sick ''As always; admirable'' Rita blinked a few times at the diamond in Ginny's ears, almost approaching to assess the jewel ''It would be an honor to have an interview with you, there are several fans who are dying to know more details of the wedding of two such important...wizards'' She looked up and down at Ginny, as if assessing whether she was worth it that much.

Because, she was always Harry Potter's girlfriend, and nothing more. Forget her career as a player, and all her other merits.

''I can only say it will be luxurious'' Ginny commented, as much as it was a lie ''Nothing more'' She smiled falsely ''And even, I remember putting your name on the list'' Rita seemed to be excited, eyes and puffing out the chest

''We have an extensive list, you see, but we don't forget you'' Harry assured

''It's a great honor-- ''

'' --The list, of course, forbidden people'' The redhead smiled from ear to ear ''Now, if you'll excuse me ... ''

I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined I check it once, then I check it twice, oh! Look what you made me do

 ''She spoke shit of our marriage for a week'' Harry sighed ''I have never been so sad''

''She made me do that'' Ginny shrugged. ''That dress really made me beautiful. I hate you for tearing it up'' She slapped her husband on the back, who was laughing against her warm skin.

''You didn't look angry when I did that. In fact, I remember you groaned a lot. We had complaints from neighbors underneath''

''Living in a building was the worst idea ever'' Harry nodded, getting back on her chest, smiling at the feeling of being at home. ''She asked me for help\ last week''

"Who?"

''Rita'' Ginny laughed ''Maybe that's why today's story, she must be mad since I refused to help her''

I don't like your kingdom keys They once belonged to me

 ''Me and you?'' Ginny spoke a little disappointed, looking at the empty room and then at the woman in front of her ''I work at the sports session, Rita''

"But I need you to help me, Chudley Cannons has this new player and .."

'' ..I won't intercept them for you, do your dirty work alone'' The blonde nodded, looking unexpectedly like a demon from those muggle movies she and Harry had been watching

''My job is not dirty, Mrs Potter, it is as worthy as yours'' Ginny laughed, staring at her with an even worrying calm, seeing that lying red face in front of her ''We should unite here, be solidary with the other.''

''A job that consists of being invasive in the lives of others and making up lies, is not a worthy job, Mrs. Skeeter'' The last name looked like poison on her lips ''The last time I helped you, my name ended up in a not so friendly story about a naked photo of me that they had taken and were trying to sell around ... It seems that you didn't think much about the 'female sorority' before launching the article defaming me''

''I don't invent anything'' Ginny nodded sarcastically, turning away and heading back to her work area

''I'm sure not ... But thank me Rita, for not writing gossip'' Then she looked over her shoulder, still seeing her standing there ''I would have great topics to comment on''

 You asked me for a place to sleep Locked me out and threw a feast (what?)

 ''I think they're going to fire her ... Beau has also been walking the tightrope for the past few days'' She dropped the newspaper, lying on the bed and coming face to face with Harry, rubbing his face and sighing tiredly ''Not that I care, it's just Karma''

''Definitely'' The husband kissed the tip of her nose, then the cheeks, until he reached her mouth, smiling and winking still a little sleepy ''The guy who sold the photos is still in prison. I went to Askaban yesterday and saw him, he looked a little crazy and upset when he saw me. The guards say he started having nightmares about me killing him.''

''Urgh, can't this family stay away from the drama for even a second? If Beau listens, you can be sure that tomorrow is the first page dedicated to that. "Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world or a torturer of defenseless poor people?"

''He's definitely not a helpless poor. And he's lucky that I didn't find him, because I would have left him with more damage than just a cut on his shoulder'' The green eyes darkened, and Ginny knew he wasn't horny ''They treated him so lovingly I even thought they would give him they own bed for him to spend the night ... While you can't leave the house for a week!''

''It's an unfair world, babe'' And as if that still didn't torment her, Ginny kissed her husband, relieved by the feeling that ran through her, as if the tension had evaporated away and only the two existed

 The world moves on, another day, another drama, drama But not for me, not for me, all I think about is karma

 ''But I have you, my great savior'' She kissed him again, less deeply this time ''Some guys told me I deserved it ... You know, for whatever shit they believe I did. Michael met me on the street and said it was just me reaping what I planted.'' Harry rolled his eyes, sighing and seeming to control any instinct to leave their bed and go after each one

''I hate them so much'' Ginny nodded ''Last week a trainee made a joke about your poster is on the bedroom wall, facing the bed. I don't think he wanted me to hear'' His wife laughed, throwing her head back and happy that he could break the tension ''I'm serious, he affected having seen death''

 '' ..I leave it facing my bed, because you know, don't you? Lonely nights and everything'' Harry took a deep breath, already being spotted by the freshman's other colleague, who was as white as paper looking over the boy's head, his eyes wide.

''If you continue like this, only what you will have will be lonely nights'' Then his malicious laugh stopped, and Harry even doubted that his breath was gone.

''Erm .. Sorry, Har ... Mr Potter'' The boy turned around, looking much more like one of their children when they were caught tampering with something where it shouldn't have been, not as an auror in training.

''Not that you should apologize to me, it wasn't my ass that you were using as an aid to wanking ... But hopefully next time, it will appear in your mind and leave it soft enough to not want to play for a week'''

 And then the world moves on, but one thing's for sure

Maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours

''He's still not looking me in the eye'' Ginny was still laughing, trying to contain the noise so as not to wake her children but looking almost impossible

''I really hope he saw your ass instead of mine .. Not that yours is ugly, I love her'' She kissed the tip of his nose, reaching down to squeeze the naked flesh ''All round and perfect'' Another kiss

''But it wasn't the one he wanted to see'' Ginny nodded, letting her be hugged ''I'm sorry for all this meddling''

''You don't have to apologize for anything, they're the ones who are fucking invasive. I accepted that life back in my fifth year, when you kissed me, and it wouldn't change a single point of my decisions '' The two looked at each other, Harry looking much more naked than he really was, blinking those beautiful green eyes in her direction, with a slight smile on his face

''I love you ... even if you are just here to steal my fortune, or if you are looking to get away with someone else ... ''

"... Or that I'm keeping you under the Love Potion?" Harry laughed, nodding

''Yes, I still love you so much'' Ginny smiled, even after all these years, still blushing shyly

''You look so romantic after I fuck you good'' He shrugged

"That's what they say ... But they say a lot, they already said they couldn't trust me when I was only 15 years old."

'' ..And today they use your opinion as a guide'' Ginny reminded him ''They always seem so sorry when you talk about the war'' Not that Harry talked much, but there was always a lecture here or there, and rather intrusive questions on the anniversary that marked the end. ''Rita always seems sorry about that time, but I never know if it is because we discovered her cover or just because there is a little humanity in her ... Anyway, I don't trust her at all. Not that she trusts me too much, of course. ''

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me

I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

Harry laughed softly, running his fingers over her cheek and outlining his wife's face, as if he wanted to frame her to never forget. Ginny took a hand on her cheek, kissing the scar he had acquired in the fifth year, as if to prove that they were there now. Better. Alive

''The date is coming ... What will they all write this time?'' Ginny shrugged, interlacing her fingers with his and approaching her husband, wrapping her bare leg around his waist

"Some shit that will make somebody cry and say 'he was just a kid!' while they congratulate you and frighten our children'' Our children, it was one of the things he would never tire of listening to. Harry chuckled, relaxing against her, laying his head back in the middle of her soft breasts, being surrounded by that heady scent that he would never get sick of.

''Isn't it crazy to think that Teddy is already so big? We're getting old ''

''Oh, don't say that too loud, magazines love to remind us of that. Last week a magazine said I should cut my hair again to 'look younger'.'' Harry laughed, running his fingers over the red strands that were on the pillow, not as long as when they were teenagers, but not as small as when she was played, but still incredibly beautiful.

''We're not the same anymore, are we?'' She doesn't need to ask what exactly he was talking about. The war had changed everyone, but Ginny and Harry would never be forgotten about their changes, even if she cut her hair and he let his hair grow, there would always be a gossip magazine reminding them who they once were. Students leading a movement against the Ministry, teenagers having to deal with things that not even an adult would handle well, among thousands more.

''It would be impossible to be'' She smiled a little colorless, before her maternal instinct warned her ''James woke up.'' And the alone and comfortable moment was over, the two of them picked up their fallen pajamas by the bed and they dressed at impressive speed, much faster and more prepared than when they were young and didn't want to be caught by Molly. Her mother was much more understandable than a 7-year-old son, under locked doors

They would never be the same again.

I'm sorry, the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now

Why?

Oh, 'cause she's dead! 

 ''Good morning, mate'' Harry unlocked the door when the little one knocked, waving him to come to bed with them, as he knew it was his wish

''Morning'' he murmured sleepily, still looking sleepy, scratching his brown eyes and crawling on the sheets to stay in the middle, laying his head on his mother's chest like a baby, before going back to sleep calmly. Ginny kissed his slightly sweaty hair and hugged the small body that was now glued to hers.

''How long until the other two come too?'' She whispered, laughing softly as ahe tried to hear if there was noise from the other rooms as well.

''A few minutes'' Harry didn't look sad ''We can still run away ... We took them all and we were gone for a week'' Ginny laughed, denying and using her free hand to ruffle her husband's hair

''You could never do that'' She unmasked him ''But we can get away after an interview, I know the kids will love it ... ''

 [...]

When the day came, there were, as always, reporters, cameras and people everywhere. It seemed that they never got tired of questioning every morbid detail of what the trio had been through in those years at Hogwarts.

But before the second interview started, Harry simply apparated with his whole family out, leaving everyone gaping when the six Potter (because Teddy would always be a Potter) simply disappeared, waving to the journalists before landing at the beach house of them, not far from London, but hidden enough that no one could find them.

"Tomorrow this will be on the cover of magazines" And it was.

''I do not care. They forced me to do this.. Ask about all the shit I went through? I do not care. Tease the kids?'' He waved to the kids running from Teddy who claimed to be a monster, laughing and screaming loudly, looking a lot less tense than they did a few minutes ago, when five journalists surrounded they to ask questions. ''I don't accept'' Harry would never let them take away their peace.

 ''Harry Potter, the wizard who saved the world or just a man in need of attention?

Harry Potter, 32, First Order of Merlin, Chief of Aurors, attended the Annual Anniversary Meeting of the End of the Second Witch War, with his wife Ginny Potter, his sons James, Albus and Lily Potter, as well as his godson Edward Lupin (known like Teddy). After the first interview (see more on page 15) the wizard who saved the world looked irritated when some questions started to be asked, and simply apparated the whole family out.

What does the editor of this newspaper think of this? Of two things, one; does the wizard who saved the world need attention and need his name back in the tabloids, or is it just a way to make everyone forget the possible betrayal he committed (see more on page 18) last Friday? ''

Look what you made me do

[snowdice]

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 9)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 My Master Post

After a few minutes of silence, Patton glanced over at the kiddo to see that he was curled against the car door, fast asleep. Patton grinned at the cute sight. He was an adorable little carjacker.

Thinking on that… The knife was left abandoned on the seat next to his thigh. Patton reached over carefully and grabbed the medium sized kitchen knife. He slid it into the pocket on the driver’s side door.

A practiced criminal, the boy was not. Which brought forth the question of why he had carjacked Patton. He was clearly running from something, but what and why?

Patton wished the boy would tell him his name. If he gave Patton a last name, he might be able to figure out who he was. If he was going to Green Bellow Foods, that meant he somehow knew about the agency or at least he knew someone who did and figured that they could help. He’d said his dad “knew the owner.” Patton could surmise from that statement that his father probably knew Logan (was possibly and agent) and that he was likely dead. Patton wondered if that death was recent and the reason the boy was on the run or if it had happened a while ago and the initiator of this situation was something else.

Either way, he was awfully young for… well whatever was happening to him, Patton didn’t actually know. Whatever it was, it made Patton sad.

Patton continued to drive toward their destination listening to the silly radio show the kiddo had picked out with wry amusement for another 15 minutes before ‘Anxiety’ started to stir. His eyes flickered open and he made a confused noise, squinting at his surroundings. He looked over at Patton and Patton did his level best not to coo at him.

“Tired?” he asked.

Anxiety made a grumbly sound and moved to rub the sleep out of his eye. As he moved his wrist, a flash of red light caught Patton’s eye and apparently Anxiety’s as well. He moved his wrist away from his face and blinked at it for a long moment. Patton watched confusion and then fear flash across his features. He ripped the bracelet with its blinking red light off his wrist and rolled down the car window. He’d thrown it out onto the interstate before Patton could even process what was happening.

“What was that?” Patton asked, confused.

“It’s a tracker, I’m being tracked,” he fretted. He wrapped his arms around his abdomen like he was going to be sick and curled forward into a ball.

“Hey,” Patton said softly. He reached over to touch the boy’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he boy said, his breathing starting to come fast. “It’s not okay.”

“Let’s calm down and think about this,” Patton soothed, rubbing a circle into his skin with his thumb while looking for someplace to pull off. “How do you know it’s not someone good looking for you?” he asked.

“Because my dad gave me that tracker and my dad’s fucking dead.”

Oh. Patton had assumed, but it was still sad to hear. From the tone of his voice, Patton assumed it was recent. “Well, does anyone else know about it?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” he said. He started to yank on the sleeves of his hoodie, stretching the fabric near his wrist, “maybe my uncle.”

“Did you try to get into contact with your uncle at any point before running?”

Anxiety shook his head. “I didn’t have time and I didn’t want them to track my calls, so I turned my cell phone off.”

“Well, you’re already being tracked now,” Patton pointed out. “Calling can’t do any more damage and it might do some good if you can get ahold of him.”

He bit his lip. “I guess you’re right. Maybe I should try.”

He reached into his front pocket and pulled out a phone. He held down the power button until the screen lit up. “That,” he said, staring at his phone screen. “Is a lot of missed calls.”

“From who?” Patton asked.

“It’s a couple of unknown numbers.” His body language screamed terrified as he looked at the screen.

“Hey,” Patton said. “Do me a favor before you call?”

“What?” he asked.

“Reach into the pocket on the back of the seat you’re on and grab what’s inside.”

Anxiety squinted over at him. “This isn’t a trap is it?”

“What trap do you expect I keep hidden in there?” Patton asked amused.

“I dunno. A gun?”

“Ah, yes,” Patton said, unable to stop himself from grinning. “The age-old trap of giving the person who carjacked you a gun.”

“Well, maybe it’s a bomb.”

“In my car?” Patton said slowly. “Where we both currently are? Sitting a few inches apart?”

“A snapping turtle then!” Anxiety… snapped.

Patton just glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Fine,” he muttered. He turned slightly in his seat and reached his arm around the back of it. He pulled the contents out and brought it into the front seat. “A teddy bear?” he asked, nose wrinkling adorably in his confusion.

“His name’s Barnaby!” Patton said.

“Why?” Anxiety asked.

“Well he has to have a name.”

“No, why do you have a stuffed animal named Barnaby in your car?”

“He’s for emergencies,” Patton explained.

“What type of emergencies need a teddy bear named Barnaby.”

“This type of emergency,” Patton said. “You can squeeze him when you’re feeling ‘anxious,’ Anxiety.” He winked when the boy looked over.

Anxiety rolled his eyes but squeezed the bear’s pudgy stomach once. “Thanks,” he said after a moment.

“Of course!” Patton said. “Now, why don’t you try calling your uncle?”

Anxiety took a breath. “Yeah,” he said.

He typed a couple of buttons and then put the phone to his ear. “It went straight to voicemail,” Anxiety said. “That’s bad isn’t it?”

It could be, but Patton didn’t say that. “Maybe he just has his phone off for some reason. Is there anyone else you could call that might know where he is or anything about what’s going on?”

Anxiety thought for a few seconds and then he was messing with his phone again without responding to Patton. He pressed the phone to his ear and waited. He pulled it away after a moment and held down the power button until it turned off again. He stuffed the phone back in his pocket, eyes shining with tears.

“Hey,” Patton soothed. “Why don’t I get off the interstate at the next exit and we can figure out what to do.”

“I’m not going to the police,” Anxiety replied.

“That isn’t what I was suggesting. Continuing down the interstate’s going to be pretty predictable if you’re being tracked. We need to figure out what’s the best option from here.”

“You’re probably right,” he conceded. “Why are you even helping me though?”

“You seem like a good kid.”

“I kidnapped you by knife point,” he pointed out, but undermined his point by sniffling a bit.

“A good kid in a spot of trouble then.”

Anxiety gave him a skeptical look, but Patton just kept driving until he found the next exit at a small town.

Patton pulled into a gas station parking lot. “Get the map from the glove box, please?”

Anxiety leaned forward to do so and handed it to him.

“Okay,” Patton said looking at the map. “We’ve been driving for about two hours on the interstate minus our stop for dinner and we’re in Bluesburge,” he pointed at the little town on the map. So, we’re about 100 miles away from the factory. Now we’ve got two choices: continue to travel on the interstate or find some back roads.”

Patton looked over the map and did some calculations in his head. He’d never taken the back roads from Bluesburge to base before, but he had driven all around this area at the request of Logan who insisted his agents have a good lay of the land. (Patton had used that excuse to make his brother take him on many ice-cream runs over the years. Logan was always mad when he figured out halfway there what Patton had done and would rip into him about being lactose intolerant but could be soothed with mint chocolate chip.)

“The back roads would probably take about 45 minutes extra,” Patton said, “but it would be less predictable.”

“Back roads,” Anxiety said without hesitation. It was what Patton was going to suggest anyway, so he nodded.

“Alrighty then,” he agreed. “I’m going to have to get gas really quick. Why don’t you run in, go to the bathroom if you need to, and grab a snack while I do? I’ll give you money.” He reached into his wallet and grabbed a twenty. “Get me a coffee, please. We might be up late. Ooo, and a donut if they still have any at this time of day. If not, one of those pre-packaged cinnamon rolls are fine.”

“Um…” Anxiety said. “But you’re my prisoner?”

Patton raised an eyebrow at him, and he blinked down at the car seat.

“… Where’s the knife?”

Patton reached over to pat him on the shoulder.

“Wait… am… am I kidnapped now?” he asked.

“If you were kidnapped, I wouldn’t be sending you in to get snack food, silly,” Patton said as he brandished the twenty-dollar bill in his direction.

He took it slowly, his nose scrunched up. “You’re a weird adult,” he mumbled. “Why did I choose the weird adult to kidnap?” He turned and opened the car door before walking into the gas station.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 10

[sambergscott]

a peralta guarantee

“I promise I’ll come home safe, Ames. That’s a Peralta Guarantee.”

(missing scenes from 7x08 - amy worrying about jake)

hUge thanks to johanna for inspiring this fic and helping when i had a lil breakdown halfway through

When he approaches her desk mid-afternoon with a decaf coffee and the white chocolate chip cookies she’s been craving from the bakery across town, she knows he’s either a) broken something, b) wants something or c) has bad news. She narrows her eyes suspiciously, detecting an excited bounce in his step which can only mean it’s b and c; he wants something she’s not going to like.

“Hey, babe,” he tries to play it cool, clearing a butt-sized space on her desk on which to sit. “I come bearing gifts.”

“What do you want, Peralta?” She cuts to the chase.

“Damn it, you know me too well,” he mutters. “OK, so, here’s the thing: Doug Judy’s gettin’ married. He invited me to his Bachelor Party this weekend and I know he’s a criminal, Ames, but I really wanna go. Like, so bad. Would you be cool with that?”

She conjures up a mental pro and con list. On one hand, Doug Judy is The Pontiac Bandit, known felon, committer of God knows how many crimes, an overall bad dude. On the other, he’s Jake’s friend, singer of the smush songs CD in the glove box of their car that they always forget to take out, giver of the Le Creuset pot she adores. He’s always been nice to her and—.

“Sarge?” Gary interrupts her decision-making process with a quick question about a perp he just brought in, snapping her back to reality. She’s a Police Sergeant, her job is to serve and protect the city they call home and as much as she loves cooking her mom’s beef casserole recipe in Judy’s awesome wedding gift, she has a responsibility to bring him in.

“I’m sorry, babe. I just think it’s a bad idea.”

His face falls, his disappointment coming through loud and clear.

“What were you expecting me to say? Ignore the million arrest warrants out on this guy, many of them submitted by you, so you can drink beer and go to strip clubs?”

“You’re right,” he sighs. “You’re obviously right. Man, being good at your job sucks.”

She nods in agreement. “Remember last month when I had to shut that binder store down for running a secret drug dealing operation out back?”

“How could I forget? You cried for three days straight.”

“They had the best binder collection I’ve ever seen!”

(It was actually what was so fishy about it. In four trips to buy pregnancy binders, she hadn’t seen any of the founding members of the Brooklyn Binder Babes blog — Mary Sue, Catherine, Margaret or Jane — once. And there’s no way a stationery start-up would attract such long queues without their recommendation. It was a pretty easy solve from there).

“The point is, you can’t go to a criminal’s Bachelor Party.” She pats his hand. “You’ll just have to come maternity clothes shopping with me instead. None of my jeans fit me anymore.”

“As much as I would love to, you can take Kylie. I’m going to the party.”

“What?” She double-takes. “Jake, did you not listen to what I literally just said? We’re cops. We cannot be friends with criminals.”

“But we can be friends with informants who have helped us catch numerous, even bigger, more dangerous criminals,” he says with that look on his face, the one he gets when he finds a loophole that he can use to his advantage. She recognises it from home videos Karen has shown her where, instead of tidying his room like she asked him to, seven year old Jake shoves everything under his bed and carries on enacting a police chase with his race cars. “Captain Holt has given him immunity before, so technically I should be able to go party it up with him in Miami!”

“Wait... It’s in Miami? Miami... Florida?”

It’s a stupid question, she knows. Of course he means Miami, Florida. It’s just... they both promised on the flight home that they would never, ever go back there. After everything that happened with Figgis and not knowing if they’d ever see each other again, a statewide travel ban seemed a good way to put it all behind them, focus on all their future moments together, not on all the moments they missed.

“This isn’t like last time,” he reassures her. “It’s only for a weekend and then I’ll be coming straight home for snuggles with you and —,” he lowers his voice to a whisper because they haven’t told anyone she’s pregnant yet, “the baby.”

Her eyes fill with tears and she bites her lip so hard to stop them overflowing in front of all her uniformed officers. It’s pretty clear that he wants to go and she never wants to be one of them wives who control their husbands’ every move. All she wants is for him to be happy. And if going to Doug Judy’s Bachelor Party makes him happy, he should go, no matter how much she hates the entire state of Florida. She agrees, on one condition: “You have to text me hourly updates to let me know that you’re still alive.”

“Don’t I text you constantly anyway?”

“I guess so,” she sniffs.

He lifts her chin so she’s looking him in the eyes. “I promise I’ll come home safe, Ames. That’s a Peralta guarantee.”

“You better,” she warns, tears suddenly flowing down her face at the thought of him not coming home, not being there to watch Property Brothers with her, not raising their baby and proving to everyone what a great dad he will be.

Used to her extra strength pregnancy hormones shifting her emotions from 0 to 100 faster than John McClane can say “Yippie-Ki-Yay, motherfucker”, he pulls her into a tight hug, careful not to crush the precious cargo that is behind said mood swings.

He strokes her hair and whispers that he’ll be home before she knows it and that nothing, not even the worst state in the country, will tear him away from her.

When it’s time for him to leave, she follows him out to the street and, after a brief argument over the fact he packed his bag before he OK’ed the trip with her and another hormone-induced cry when his cab shows up, reluctantly waves goodbye.

True to his word, he texts her before the car is even out of sight. Miss you already 😘.

--

Her phone buzzes periodically throughout the rest of the day.

In a meeting with Holt and Terry: flying on mark cuban’s dope ass private plane!!!!! ✈️

Cooking dinner: florida is HOT (not as hot as u babe, dont worry)

Doing her crossword in bed: g’night ames, g’night baby, love u both SO MUCH

She smiles, tells him she loves him too and braces herself for the barrage of drunk texts and selfies coming her way.

--

Sleeping without him sucks. The bed is cold, her pregnancy pillow is not as good of a cuddle buddy and she tosses and turns all night worrying about him, where he is, what he’s doing, whether he’s safe.

Her eyes finally slip shut around 1 am when her phone buzzes. Again. And again. And again.

She tries to ignore him, bury her head under her pillow and go back to sleep, but the messages keep coming thick and fast. She groans, giving up and unlocking her phone.

There are 47 new messages from him.

Forty-seven.

Her initial annoyance at being woken up quickly disappears as she scrolls through the thread. He’s mostly sent her random, meaningless emojis and keysmashes, interspersed with the odd “I love you”, “you’re my best friend” and “I’m thinking about you” that warm her heart. He mentions something about their proposal, about crying with Doug Judy, which obviously makes her cry too.

(Dumb pregnancy hormones).

By the time she reaches the bottom, he’s sent her 10 more.

She decides for her sake — and the sake of all of her officers who would have to deal with a tired, emotional pregnant lady — to turn off her phone and reply to him in the morning.

She returns her phone to her nightstand, settles back into a comfortable position and closes her eyes.

She lies motionless for what feels like hours, unable to fall asleep. She tries the breathing technique her brother David brags about constantly, counting sheep like little Matthew, even reciting police codes like Teddy used to go to sleep after sex. Nothing works. She’s still awake.

She turns her phone back on to see what Jake’s up to now, only to see his messages ended abruptly with a caterpillar emoji over an hour ago.  

She immediately panics, dialling 911 into her phone.

Her thumb hovers over the green call button.

She’s heard thousands of crazy operator call stories, frequently reminded the general population to only call in a genuine emergency and watched the YouTube compilations for fun. She deletes the number, positive that if she told an operator her husband was missing because she hadn’t heard from him while he’s at a Bachelor Party, she’s positive she would be added to those videos.

In an attempt to stop her spiral, she contemplates the possible scenarios in which his constant texts would cease.

Scenario 1: He’s living in the moment and has put his phone away (something she has been encouraging him to do lately to reduce his screen time)

Scenario 2: He’s very drunk and has completely forgotten about his promise

Scenario 3: He used up all his battery texting her and his phone has died

Scenario 4: He’s fallen asleep (although a quick check of Trudy Judy’s insta reveals the party is very much still in full flow)

Scenario 5: Judy’s criminal buddies have killed him and thrown his body into the ocean

Once the thought pops into her head, no amount of squeezing her eyes shut will make the image go away.

Holt giving an emotional eulogy about wearing ties and being an amazing detective/genius.  

Some rookie taking over his desk.  

The sympathetic looks when she tells all the other moms in baby group that her husband died.  

Usually Jake is there to hold her when her nightmares get bad. She rolls over, expecting to see his kind eyes and soft smile, the untouched side of his bed only serving to make her cry harder.

She can’t lose him. Not yet. Not until they’re old and grey, and maybe not even then. She spent so long denying her feelings for her dorky partner, rueing every missed opportunity to be together, and when they finally, finally took the plunge, she had never been happier. She can’t lose him yet. They have so much more life left to live.

She can’t lose him because he promised her he would come home safe. He guaranteed it.

She clings onto the tiny grain of hope like one might cling onto a raft in the middle of the ocean.

He would never break a Peralta guarantee.

--

Her phone finally buzzes again an hour later.

From: Unknown

Ames, it’s me, Jake. Judy’s buddies found out I’m a cop + destroyed my phone. So sorry I couldn’t text before. Hope you didn’t worry too much, although I know you probably haven’t slept. You can stop worrying now. I’m safe. Love you + see you tomorrow.  

Love you too, she responds, yawning as she places the phone back on the side table.

Relieved that he’s OK, and exhausted from all the worrying, she falls into the easiest sleep she’s ever had.

--

Before she knows it, it’s the next afternoon, Jake’s keys are turning in the lock, he’s dropping his holdall on the floor and rushing to her side to kiss her all over her face.

“I missed you too,” she laughs, kissing him properly.

“Sorry it took so long — Doug and Trudy made me fly commercial —.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re home now. That’s all that matters.”

“I’m never leaving you two again,” he swears.

“You’ll have to leave us eventually to go to the bathroom and stuff,” she points out, raking her fingers through the unruly curls that she so hopes their baby will inherit. “Just don’t go back there.”

A solemn understanding passes over his face and he nods. “Never again. Not even if our kid wants to go to Disney World. We’ll take them to the California one instead.”

“Smort,” she says, stealing his line and in an instant, that familiar grin is back.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

A dozen memories flood back, of oldies in short shorts and shuffleboard and Doug Judy getting away again. Of noice and smort and saying “I love you” for the very first time. Her eyes fill with tears — dumb pregnancy hormones strike again — as she buries her face in his shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and lifting her bridal style to carry her to their room. He places her carefully onto the mattress and flops down next to her.

She snuggles into him, eyes closing once more. “Did we even get an invite to the wedding?”

“Not even close,” he sighs.

“Damn it. I would’ve loved to see that trainwreck.”

“You and me both, babe. You and me both.”

[northernstarswriting]

without you, where would i be

Written for the @six-gifts-exchanges, for @a-over-caffienated-night-owl, I hope you enjoy it! The prompt was ‘nothing romantic’ so I wrote some kat-centric fluff with all the queens ft. cuddles. 

read on ao3

Some nights, Katherine dreams about her funeral. Or more accurately, the lack thereof. She dreams of bones lying bare in a cold, unmarked grave. Of her soul, restless even in this new life.

The nightmare comes around once every month or so, and when it does, it plagues her for days afterwards. It rattles around in her head and lingers, making her unable to sleep or concentrate, and she hates it.

She doesn’t talk about it or seek out any of the other queens for some much needed comfort. Instead, she sits alone in her dark room biting her nails and trying her best to stave off a panic attack.

Tonight is one of those nights, and Katherine flinches as she glances at her alarm clock. 3:53am. Even Cathy would most likely be asleep by now. And since tomorrow is a two show day, she feels too guilty to wake anyone else up. She has handled this alone just fine before, and this time will be no different.

So she sits and waits until it’s a decent hour to go downstairs, and if the bags under her eyes look a bit darker than normal, she prays no one will notice.

As she descends the stairs she can already hear quiet sounds in the kitchen, a sure sign that she’s not the first one to go down for breakfast. Probably either Jane or Catherine getting up early to take the most out of the day.

“Good morning, love.”

Jane then.

“Morning.” It’s barely more than a whisper, but she’s too tired to care.

“Did you sleep well?” Jane asks her that every morning without fail and Katherine gives a vague grumble that could be interpreted either way and sits down at the table. A moment later Jane puts her mug in front of her, already filled with steaming tea and a spoonful of honey. Her favourite.

Jane always seems to know what she needs before she herself does. She might be tired beyond belief, but she still sends Jane a smile and a soft thank you.

Jane ruffles her hair and places a soft kiss on the top of her head before moving away and continuing with breakfast preparations. Katherine takes a sip of her tea and listens to Jane humming a song under her breath while toasting a slice of bread. Katherine relaxes her shoulders and her heartbeat slows down.

No matter how many times they spend their mornings like this, Katherine still feels warm when Jane treats her like that. Like family. She wants nothing more than to crawl into Jane’s lap and hide from the world for a few hours, no matter how childish that might be.

Jane is warm, and Katherine still can’t shake the slight chill in her bones from the nightmare and consequently sleepless night.

Slowly the other queens trickle in and the noise in the kitchen increases. Kat doesn’t mind- if they’re all busy with each other, they might not notice how her eyes are drooping or the way she keeps zoning out before shaking herself awake again.

Three nights with little to no sleep seems to be about as much as she can take and she desperately wants to curl back into her bed. Now that everyone is awake and the house is filled with background noise she thinks it’ll make for a much easier time to sleep. As is evident by her almost nodding off in her chair at the breakfast table.

Like usual, it’s Jane who first notices something is wrong.

“Kat, love, are you alright? You haven’t touched your food.”

The gentle question brings her out of her reverie. “Hm? Oh yeah, just tired is all.” She sends Jane a smile, doing her best to make it seem genuine. It works - Jane backs off with a smile in return, but worry is still evident in her eyes and Katherine hides her grimace.

She makes an effort to eat something, shoving spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth without really tasting anything while fighting to keep her eyes open. She sneaks a cup of coffee when everyone is distracted, hoping the caffeine will keep her awake enough to function and get through the day.

Their first show goes off without a hitch. The others seem to have taken notice that she’s feeling a bit off today, and put in extra effort to make sure she never misses a cue. It makes her feel a bit guilty, seeing the others working harder to cover up for her mistakes.

The audience is none the wiser, though, and they even get some laughs when Anne has to manoeuvre her into the correct spot mid scene.

She manages to get some sleep in between shows, the low murmurs of the other talking to each other while passing the time lulling her to sleep. Jane pulls her head into her lap and is lazily playing with Katherine’s hair as she curls up into Jane’s warmth.

She’s woken up way too soon with the news that they have to get ready for show number two, and Catalina’s voice is gentle as she helps her sit up. Jane is no longer there, but there’s a blanket tucked around her.

“You look tired, mija, are you sure you’re up for this?”

“I can do it, I promise. I’ll make sure to go to bed early tonight,” Katherine smiles.

Catalina looks conflicted but after a moment moves to press a kiss to her forehead and helps her up from the couch, “Alright, come on then.”

Somehow she makes it through that one unscathed as well, and before she knows it she’s back in the dressing room wiping off her makeup. Though the nap had done her good, the bags under her eyes haven’t disappeared. She looks exhausted.

Anna wraps an arm around her as they leave the theater and keeps it there for the short walk to the nearest tube station. She doesn’t ask Katherine if something is going on. She seems to understand regardless and instead just pulls Katherine closer and lets her lean her head on her shoulder as they ride the tube home.

Once they arrive at their shared house, everyone disperses and starts with their respective nightly rituals. Katherine makes her way into the kitchen, rinsing out her mug from this morning and making herself another cup of tea.

The kitchen is empty and the house oddly quiet and she feels the exhaustion of the day catch up with her. She doesn’t have it in her to fight as her eyes droop closed, and then her tea is long forgotten as her head rests against the tabletop.

She doesn’t know how long she’s asleep before she’s woken up by Anne.

“Wakey wakey, Kitty-kat. I know you’re tired but I’ve got a surprise for you, and I promise you it’s worth it.”

Katherine mumbles something unintelligible and tries to push the woman away, but Anne just laughs.

“Come on, I’ll help you up the stairs.”

Katherine feels herself being lifted out of her chair, Anne’s arm securely wrapped around her torso and she’s powerless to resist as Anne leads her up the stairs and into her bedroom, talking in a low voice the whole while in an attempt to keep Kat awake.

When she looks up, her bedroom is dark, curtains drawn and her nightlight being the only source of light in the room. Then her eyes fall on a messy pile of blankets in the middle of the floor. Anne immediately lies down and wraps a light green blanket around herself.

“We figured you could use some extra cuddle time, so…” Anne points to the pile of pillows and blankets around her, “Jump in!”

For a second Katherine is too stunned to move. She looks up to meet Anne’s eyes and is met with nothing but love. No judgement, she’s not forced to explain anything. Just love and care.

“Don’t worry though, it won’t be just me. Two people can’t be considered a cuddle pile,” Anne laughs, “The others are just getting some snacks and other necessities.”

“Thank you, Annie.”

“Don’t mention it. We all need some extra love from time to time, right? Now, are you going to join me or am I supposed to cuddle myself?”

Without another word, Katherine makes herself comfortable amidst the blankets, burying her face in Anne’s side as the woman wraps her arm around Katherine’s middle.

Soon Anna and Cathy make their appearances, a tray with steaming mugs and a box of chocolates in hand. Lina joins them soon after, laptop open and ready for them to use. Jane comes in last, a few of Kat’s many teddy bears in her arms. She hands Kat her favourite one, a small red horse stuffy before settling down.

They all get comfortable on the floor, Jane lying down on Katherine’s other side, pulling her against her in a hug. Lina is seated close to her head, mug of hot chocolate in one hand and the other carefully detangling Katherine’s hair. She can’t help but let out a content sigh.

Cathy and Anna make up the ends, both still upright and sipping their drinks as they all talk among themselves. The sound of Jane whispering soft words into the back of her neck soothes her, and Anne’s arm doesn’t move from it’s protective hold on her younger cousin.

They decide on a Disney movie, The Aristocats, Cathy’s favourite. (Anna’s too, but if you ask her she’ll deny it.) It plays low to the background, and it doesn’t take long for Katherine’s eyes to slip closed, exhaustion now fully taking hold of her. She’s warm and feels safe in the arms of the other queens. With them all looking out for her, the nightmares stay away that night and Kat sleeps better than she has in weeks.

The usual chill and restlessness in her bones is absent as she wakes up the next morning, still sandwiched between Anne and Jane. The other queens are all passed out around her, Cathy curled up in Lina’s arms drooling softly on her own outstretched arm. Even Anna is still there, slumped in a half sitting position with her back against the wall, neck at an uncomfortable looking angle.

Seeing them all still there fills Katherine with a kind of warmth she can’t really describe. She feels calm and loved.

So loved.

So, she tucks her head back beneath her cousin's chin and closes her eyes, the world could wait for a few more minutes.