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wishesunderthestars · 4 years

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Eunoia // Ch. 11

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, mentions of past sexual abuse, injuries and blood

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

A/N: The taglist for Eunoia is now closed.

“Zayn, I promise I’m right around the corner,” you said into the phone. “I went home for lunch and it took a little more time than I had expected.”

You heard the singer laugh on the other end of the line. “It’s alright, you are always on time. I can excuse this one. You aren’t even that late.” You checked your phone to confirm what he was saying. Six minutes late. Not that bad.

“I could be a little earlier. I parked the car at the usual parking spot so I’m really just around the corner.” You looked back at Jimin. He had stopped walking and was looking behind him. Some shop window had probably caught his attention. There were many charming independent shops in the area. “By the way Jimin is with me, he wanted to get out of the house. I didn’t think you would mind.”

“I don’t,” Zayn said. “I would like to see the lad again. You talk so much about him, about all of them really, it would be nice to actually see him instead of hearing about him.”

“I mean…” You paused. “C’mon, I don’t talk about them that much.”

Zayn huffed. “Keep telling yourself that. But I’ll let you have this one. Other than them and work, do you even have any other news?”

“I totally have other news.” Zayn waited. It was slightly worrying that you came up empty. “I’m drowning in work, okay? What other news would I have? Ehhh, have you met Astrid?”

In the short silence that followed, you could hear Zayn rolling his eyes. “Taylor’s hybrid is hardly news, she adopted her a month ago. You were literally together in Nashville. And did you forget I told you that last time I met up with Taylor Astrid was with her? Do you listen that well to what I’m saying?”

“Oh, right. I had wanted to come too, but you know work-” You were cut off by the sound of quick footsteps on the gravel behind you. Not many people wandered these streets. You turned back in time to see Jimin running in the opposite direction down the street. “Jimin!” You shouted. He didn’t stop. He should have heard you. With his hybrid hearing, he should have heard you. “I have to go. We’ll be more late.” You ended the call and took off.

You thanked whatever deities could hear you for deciding to wear sneakers instead of high heels to work. When you had important meetings with the higher ups of the film studios, you would dress nicer and high heels were etiquette at this point. Lucky for you, this day you didn’t have any meetings of that kind but rather a more active role as the director. High heels would only slow you down.

Chasing Jimin down the streets, you were glad nothing was slowing you down. You called his name again and again but he wouldn’t reply, just kept running. Your mind jumped to the worst things that could have happened. No one was chasing him, other than you. He wasn’t running away from someone, unless… Unless he was running away from you. But no. Jimin wouldn’t do that. He had no reason to run away from you. He had been a little strange before and something was certainly off but he wouldn’t run away.

You didn’t let yourself entertain the thought anymore, just put one foot in front of the other as fast as you could. Your heart was racing but it wasn’t solely because of running.

Around a corner, in a small alleyway nestled between a small art shop and a closed down building, Jimin had stopped. You stopped too. A large graffiti in blue spray paint read “The world isn’t fair, why should we be?”.

“Jimin?” you repeated quietly, it felt wrong shouting here.

Jimin was frozen in the middle of the alley, his eyes wide. His hands were fisted at his sides, they were shaking. Someone was standing against the wall.

Jimin went to take a step forward but a hiss stopped him. “Yoongi?”

“Step back,” the man said. Black cat-like ears were turned back, their fur blending into his pitch black hair. Narrowed dark eyes regarded Jimin. Jimin didn’t back down.

“Yoongi, it’s me,” Jimin said, albeit with a little less confidence. His eyes were open and vulnerable, staring at the other hybrid like he was a dream he was too afraid to wake up from, yet he wasn’t sure if he should call it a nightmare. “It’s Jimin, don’t you remember me?”

Yoongi didn’t reply. His shoulders were drawn high in tension, making more obvious the teared up fabric on his shoulder. It wasn’t the only tear on his clothes, his jeans were ripped in a way that didn’t look intentional and the hem of his shirt was torn and scuffed. One of his hands was tightly clutching a baseball cap. “Stay away from me.”

There was so much pain in Jimin’s eyes. All you wanted to do was gather him in your arms and hold him until it was gone, but something was holding you back.

“I looked for you. In the shelter and in the streets. I tried to find you for years.” Jimin’s lip trembled. “Where have you been?”

Yoongi looked away. “You don’t want to know.”

“Please,” Jimin whispered and you could hear the heartbreak in his voice. “I-I’m so sorry.”

That made Yoongi’s head shoot up. “You’re sorry? What-”

Just then, your phone started ringing. Both hybrids looked at you. Alarmed, Yoongi backed further into the alley. Perfect timing. You thought Zayn must be calling you, asking you what had happened and where you had gone, but it was Namjoon. Wary of the deadly glare Yoongi was sending your way, you declined the call.

“Who are you?” Yoongi hissed. The fur on his tail was standing on end and you could imagine him pouncing on you and tearing you apart with his teeth. You hadn’t been as nervous around a hybrid as you were at the moment. With Namjoon, it was more wariness than anything else. But this time a thread of fear was slithering up your arms. There was dried blood on Yoongi’s knuckles. There was no John this time and you didn’t have only yourself to worry about.

"She's my owner," Jimin replied for you. It wasn't the way you would have phrased it and Yoongi's eyes narrowed further until they were nothing more than twin slits. "Yoongi, please," he said again. You didn't know what he was pleading for.

"She's your owner?" Yoongi spat out the word like it was the worst of insults.

You had a very bad feeling about this.

Jimin clenched his jaw, standing up straighter. "She isn't like him, she's nothing like him. She saved me."

Yoongi didn't say anything. His back was one with the wall by now.

Jimin averted his gaze, shoulders slumping. "I-I missed you. I thought... I thought he had done something to you." He hugged his frame, making himself look smaller. "I thought he hurt you," the last words came out as a whimper.

Yoongi was quick to shake his head. "He didn't, he didn't hurt me. You shouldn't have worried about me. You shouldn't be thinking about me."

"But I was! I still am!"

Yoongi looked away, he didn't move from the wall. It was clear the two hybrids knew each other but there were too many things you couldn't make sense of. Yoongi must have been someone important to Jimin if he had chased him all the way here and by what they were saying he had something to do with Jimin's past owner. You had assumed Jimin had been alone with that vile man, you hadn't considered having someone there with him. Someone he seemed to care for. Maybe he had met him at one of those parties Jimin had mentioned his owner liked to take him to, or he was one of his friends' hybrid.

Your brain was in overdrive but your body was rooted on the spot. You didn't want to intrude but you were worried. Meanwhile, you only had limited time before you had to get back to work...

Stupid brain, you cursed. This was such an important moment for Jimin and here you were thinking about work.

“I have to go," Yoongi said, pulling himself away from the wall.

"No!" Jimin protested loudly, moving as if he was going to reach for the other hybrid. "I have been looking for you for years. Don't go. Please." He had been saying please a lot today.

Although Jimin didn't touch him, the other hybrid stopped, as if he was unable to leave Jimin behind when he was calling for him. His fists were clenched at his sides and you could see the dried up blood on his knuckles better. It looked like he had left the blood clog up for a day or more instead of cleaning it. It would be easy to get an infection, especially with the dirt and grime all over his clothes and skin.

"Is she treating you right?" Yoongi asked after a few moments of silence.

Jimin's eyes widened at the question, brimming with tears. You held your breath. "She's my family." He glanced at you. "She taught me how to cook. She takes care of us and she lets us dress any way we like. She lets us go out alone, too, I haven't yet but I could... We went to the lake and we stayed there all day and had a picnic and... and... I'm- I'm happy. I'm happy, Yoongi."

Yoongi lowered his head. "You deserve to be happy," he said quietly but even your human hearing picked it up. He took a step forward.

"Wait." You were surprised to hear your own voice. "You should disinfect your cuts, you could get sick if you leave them like this." Not your best, but enough to make his stop and look at you. Jimin gave you a hopeful look. "I have a medical kit in my car, I can clean them and if you want, then you can leave."

Yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly. His hands were shaking. "You know how to give first aid?"

You nodded. "I have taken a few lessons, I know my way around it."

"She's really good," Jimin confirmed. Neither of you could forget the night you had met. Purplish bruises, stark white gauze and fearful eyes.

Yoongi's cat-like ears twitched. It didn't give you any specific answers as to the kind of hybrid he was. His tail was black as well, it stayed low as he contemplated your offer.

"I don't need your help, I'm fine, " Yoongi said. His eyes flickered to the other end of the alleyway. You could sense the internal battle going on inside him, vices gripping his body as he vibrated with something you were hesitant to call nervousness. His eyes locked with Jimin for a moment and his shoulder slumped slightly. "I don't need your help… but there is someone who does. Can you help him?"

You ignored the suspicious glare and gathered all your confidence. "I can do my best."

A small nod. "Go get your supplies."

He stayed glued to the spot so you turned to Jimin. You cupped his cheek gently and said, "I'm going to the car, I'll be back in a moment." The cat hybrid nodded and you speed-walked to the parking lot, thankfully it wasn't too far away. You would have run if you hadn't already been tired from chasing Jimin. You grabbed the first aid kit from the trunk before rushing back. It was a medium sized box, containing all the essentials, from gauze, band-aids and disinfectant to various pills, like Advil and Claritin. "I've got it," you said when you arrived back at the alleyway, finding the two of them in the same spots you had left them.

Yoongi glanced at you and the white medical kit, and then he was walking away. You took that as a sign to follow him. You slipped your hand in Jimin's, who gave you a small smile, and intertwined your fingers. This neighborhood housed one of your favorite coffee shops, the one you had planned to meet Zayn at, but you hadn’t wandered far from the quiet aesthetic streets with the colorful buildings and the tiny squares.

As you walked further away, the scenery changed. More graffiti appeared on the walls. Words dripping in red and black. Slurs and protests. You kept Jimin close to your side. After ten minutes of walking, Yoongi stopped in front of a two-story building. The door was hanging off from only one of its hinges, as if holding onto a thread. Shattered windows, peeling paint on the walls and pieces of white plastic sheets angling from seemingly random places didn’t leave any room for doubt whether the building was abandoned.

Yoongi slipped in through the half opened door and disappeared in the partial darkness inside. Two balconies were situated above the door on either side, parts of them chipped off. You were worried they would fall on your heads at any any moment. You tugged Jimin forward and twisted your body to get inside without touching the door or the wall. Jimin did the same and you were faced with an empty room. You couldn't see much, sunlight didn't get in the house properly and the plastic sheets prevented most of the rays from passing through.

The smell of rot drifted in the air and you could almost feel the dust swirling around. You resisted an instinctual cough. It was mostly in your mind, the feeling that dust was suffocating you, but your mind tricked your body quickly. You ignored it and walked further into the house, leaving footprints behind on the granite floor. The light got dimmer the further you went and your eyes had trouble adjusting. Jimin's eyesight was much better than yours and like cats he could see well in darkness.

One of the rooms, with the dirtied floral tapestry peeling off from the walls, opened up to a grand staircase. Once upon a time it must have been beautiful, polished wood shining under the light of the chandeliers. You could imagine balls taking place here, women wearing beautiful gowns and men in tuxes made by the biggest names in fashion, mingling and sharing drinks. Now, the room was a ghost of its former glory, a place that belonged in a horror film instead of a period drama.

Jimin's hand slipped from yours and you reached blindly for him. The room wasn't in total darkness but it was dark enough to make you nervous.

In all of your observation of the staircase you hadn't noticed that there was something in the space under the stairs. A boy was curled up on a ratty blanket so thin, it must have been doing nothing to shield him from the cold granite underneath. Yoongi was kneeling next to him but you couldn't make out his features or if he was talking or not. You were too far to hear anything and the building was by no means quiet (you had a suspicion that a family of mice or cockroaches had made its home somewhere inside and you prayed you were wrong). You approached cautiously.

"-alone. Please, don't go again. I'm fine," you could hear the boy saying as you got closer. His voice was croaky, from disuse or pain you weren't sure. He must have been the one Yoongi wanted you to help. You couldn't see him clearly but you could make out the ears peeking out from his hair. Another hybrid.

Yoongi was holding his hand. "You aren't fine, I had to do something. I brought help."

The boy hadn't noticed you so far, he must have been pretty bad if he didn't hear you coming in and didn’t notice your scent. When his eyes landed on you he only curled up tighter with a whimper.

"We're here to help you, not hurt you," you said, coming a little closer when Yoongi didn't hiss at you. You showed him the medical kit you were holding. "I only want to help if you let me."

He didn't uncurl from the ball he had created with his body but Yoongi looked at you expectantly. You knelt on the floor next to the blanket, ridiculously aware of the dust and grime your expensive pants must be gathering. Your mind was jumping from one place to the next so it wasn't surprising that for some reason it decided it was worth it to worry about dirtying your pants. With Yoongi's help, you coaxed him out of the ball so you could start treating him. After turning on the flashlight on your phone, you handed it to Jimin, instructing him to keep it steady while you worked.

The boy clenched his eyes shut at the light, you wondered how long he had stayed here in semi-darkness.

You opened the first aid kit and took stock of the supplies inside, everything was there. You didn't know the extent of his injuries but his labored breathing and sharp flinches whenever he moved told you enough. In the artificial light, you took a better look at the boy laying on the floor. His hair was a reddish shade of orange. A fluffy tail was half-hidden behind his body. A fox hybrid. You had never seen once before.

The awe and curiosity didn’t last long. Your eyes were drawn on his swollen eye, a shocking purple painting his skin. It wasn't the only place tainted with color. His cheek had a purplish bruise as well and his lips were cut in two places. A trail of blood had dried underneath his nose.

"I'll start with your face, okay?" you asked, but the hybrid didn't reply, he just tightened his hold on the blanket. Taking off his clothes, to tend to the rest of the injuries you were sure were hiding underneath, would only make him more uncomfortable. You pulled out a water bottle from your bag, you were always carrying one with you, and poured a small amount on a white cloth. Before the cloth could touch his face, you spoke up, "My name is Y/N. Do you want to tell me your name?"

Wide fearful eyes turned to Yoongi, who gestured vaguely with his hand. "H-Hoseok," the boy whispered.

"Hoseok," you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. "That's a nice name. I like the way it sounds." Gently, you dabbed the cloth on his bottom lip, the boy flinched at the contact. He didn't pull away so you continued. "I'm not a professional, I'm not a doctor or a nurse or anything. My profession is actually very different from that, though I did have to play nurse a few times. I would like to think I'm quite good at this by now. I've taken a few lessons, I was fascinated with first aid when I was younger. I don't even know why."

You continued speaking while tending to the wounds on his face. Earlier in your life you had discovered that talking, or at least listening to someone speak, would take the other's mind off the pain a little. By the time you were finished with his face, you had told him the whole story of how you had come to learn first aid and how you had panicked and forgotten everything you had learnt the first time someone had fainted in front of you, only remembering what to do when a friend of yours had pinched you. Hoseok listened to everything you said silently, his lips curling up a tiny bit at the last story. Maybe you exaggerated a bit and you made way too many hand gestures for someone supposed to be tending to his wounds but it seemed to be working.

Yoongi helped him pull off his shirt and you heard a gasp from behind you as his torso was revealed. His body was toned but a few of his ribs were pushing out in ways they probably shouldn't. It wasn't too bad but it was clear he hadn't been eating well for some time. But that wasn't the worst and it wasn't what you noticed first. Large bruises littered his body and what looked like the imprint of a hand was left on his bicep.

Switching topics, you told him about your first time coming to Los Angeles. Hoseok let out a breath as you started speaking again. As you checked his ribs, you recalled your very first days in the city, when you had been as excited as afraid to go to University in a brand new city where you had no friends. He hissed at the contact, but didn't object otherwise. You observed the way he breathed, taking note of the heavy bruising over his ribcage. You applied salve over the area and all the other bruises on his torso and the few on his back, the front had taken the blunt of whatever had happened. You had a suspicion but didn't speak of it yet.

His right arm was broken, he was holding it immobile close to his body. One touch and you were certain of it. Disinfecting a rather large cut on his arm, you wrapped it in gauze after coating the injury in a thin layer of cream. The cream smelled awful and was a sickly green color but you could testify to how effective it was. You did your best to make a cast for the arm, you hadn't done it before outside of a class and it was more of a struggle than you had expected. When his arm was secured in the cast, you trailed off your recounting of a stupid fight you had with one of your cousins that resulted in both of you getting lost. You were done. Hoseok looked at you with wide eyes, as if asking you why you stopped.

"This is it, we're all done," you said, rubbing your hands together with hand sanitizer like you had before treating him. "When did he... get injured?"

"Why do you need to know?" Yoongi asked, at the same time as Hoseok croaked out, "Yesterday."

"What pill I give him to relieve the pain depends on when he got hurt. Some kinds could slow down the healing process if they are taken less than 48 hours after the injury." Digging into the small suitcase-like kit, you handed him two paracetamol tablets along with the water bottle. There was still had some water inside. "It will numb the pain, it takes about an hour to work," you explained.

Hoseok tentatively took the pills and bottle from you. He drunk the water in one gulp and you were reminded again that he might have gone without water for some time. "Thank you," he said, his eyes on the blanket.

You sighed, getting up from the floor and dusting off your pants. Just like you had expected, two white patches were left on your knees. "I'm afraid, other than a broken arm, you might have fractured one of your ribs. I noticed the area hurts more than the rest and you have some trouble breathing." Jimin who hadn't moved much while you were working, latched himself on your back. The situation was too familiar for him. The injuries, the smell of the disinfectant and the fear in Hoseok's eyes. And just like that night your heart was clenching, begging you to do more. It worked once, why wouldn't it again? The traitorous organ whispered.

Yoongi had sat on the blanket next to Hoseok, who had crawled closer to him, his side touching leg. The silence is broken as your phone starts ringing again. You had set it on silent so whoever is calling you must have made many attempts. You are expecting to see Namjoon's name flash on the screen with the wolf and moon emojis, but instead it is the name of one of the producers.

While tending to Hoseok, you had almost forgotten you had to be at work after the supposedly short trip to the coffee shop. You had to take this. At the other side of the staircase, close to a door that led to what must have been a dining room once, you answered the call.

Everyone had been looking for you, worried about your absence. You had never been late to work before, often you would show up before you were scheduled to, in order to get some additional work done. Three missed call, that's how many times just the producer had called you. His worry soon turned into irritation, asking you why you didn't inform them and why you weren't answering your phone. They had called everyone close to you to find out what had happened and no one had any answers.

You were more than an hour late. An hour you were supposed to spend guiding the actors and getting the first feeling of a few scenes. Those plans went down the drain.

You peeked over the railing of the staircase. Jimin was standing closer to the space Hoseok was laying under the stairs. They were talking but they were being quiet and you couldn't hear what they were saying over the loud voice of the producer coming from the phone and your own too loud thoughts. You tried to explain yourself, staying as close to the truth as possible, which was admittedly difficult. In the end, you used the personal emergency card. Although the producer didn't sound convinced, he let you off, scolding you half-heartedly about calling next time instead of leaving them in the dark looking for you and thinking about the worst.

Ending the call, you looked through all the ones you missed and the texts they had sent you. You replied to a few of the texts, giving the same answer as you had to the producer. There were several from Zayn, asking where you were and if you were okay. In the final one he asked you to call him as soon as you could. Guilt gnawed at your insides. You had left him alone waiting for you for forty minutes, until he was sure there was no chance of you coming. You were an awful friend. Namjoon had also sent you a few messages. Someone had called the land-line at your house. No word from you. You and Jimin had both disappeared. Cradling your heavy heart, you sent a message to Namjoon assuring him that Jimin was with you and you were both alright. You hoped that would be enough for now.

Pocketing your phone you walked around the stairs. Closer to them you could pick up parts of their conversation. Yoongi and Jimin were arguing, silent tears streaming down Jimin's face. You held yourself back from running to him and pulling him away from whatever was hurting him. This was Jimin's battle, you would let him fight it. He rarely spoke of the demons of his past but they were many and frightening with long claws and sharp teeth.

Jimin suddenly reached for your hands. "Tell them, tell them to come home with us. Please, they can't stay here. We have a lot of space in the house, they can take one of the rooms until he heals."

Your mouth was faster than your brain. That was a problem you didn't have to worry about before but something was changing. "They can come home with us if they want." Yoongi hissed, ready to protest. "A fractured rib isn't a trivial matter, he would need medical supervision but I can guess you don't want to go to a hospital. I can tend to it until he gets better, he will need medication to relieve the pain and plenty of bed rest. This place will only slow his healing."

"Yoongi, please. Let me..." He stopped with a sniffle. "Just come with us. I need you to come with us." That seemed to break any of the resolve the older hybrid had. Hoseok didn't react at all, remaining curled in on himself.

"Okay, we'll come," Yoongi said. "We'll come, but we'll leave as soon as he's better.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It should be way more surprising when you show up at the Castle with Jimin and two unfamiliar hybrids in tow. The initial surprise lasted only a few minutes before everyone just sort of accepts this. Namjoon was the most wary but you couldn't blame him, his instincts were screaming to protect his pack and while Hoseok in his condition was by no means a threat, Yoongi didn't exactly look friendly. Jungkook had hopped away soon after with Jin. The bunny hybrid wasn’t good with strangers. You suspected that he had inherited some bunny instincts that made him jumpy and easily afraid around predators.

You led the two new hybrids to the guest room with the two queen beds on the second floor, and like you had with Jin, you gave them the key. Yoongi looked at you suspiciously but didn't say anything. Hoseok fell asleep as soon as his body hit the soft mattress. Their reaction to the house had been similar to most people’s. Wide eyes and disbelief. It didn’t serve to calm Yoongi down, instead he looked like you had been leading him straight into some sort of trap.

Jimin stuck close to you as you called John from your office. He was one of the first people your team had called, it just happened that the day they needed him was the day he hadn't accompanied you. He was fuming when he answered, worried out of his mind and, unlike the producer, he didn't let you off easily. You had been rash, forgot about any rational thoughts, put yourself and Jimin in danger, didn't call anyone for backup in case something happened. Those hybrids could have been serial killers for all you knew. The list went on and on.

"I'm coming over as soon as I can," he said. "I have to see those hybrids for myself. You can't just go around picking up hybrids like they are new projects. What mess have you gotten yourself in this time?"

"Hopefully, not too big of one," you muttered. "You don't have to come, really. I've got everything under control and it's your week off. I took the rest of the day off so I'll be home. I swear I'll call you if anything happens."

"There is no way I'm leaving you in the house with two hybrids you just picked up from the street and decided to nurse back to health-"

"One of them is fine," you interrupted him.

Yoongi didn't have any visible injuries other than his bloody knuckles and a slit lip he wouldn't let you touch. Even if he had more, there was no way he would let you tend to them.

"And that makes it better how?" John asked. "I mean, good for him he isn't injured, but that doesn't guarantee your safety. If he is fine, he could try something. Don't forget that hybrid's have human DNA too, there are bad apples regardless of how much you want to keep looking at the good ones. Just because it worked once, doesn't mean it will work again. "

Jimin was sitting on the edge of your desk, his head tilted to the side. He could hear everything with his hearing. You ruffled his blond hair and he leaned into your touch. "It isn't the same," you said.

"Isn't it? It sounds awfully a lot like something I've heard before." John sighed. "It isn't that I don't trust your judgment, but lately you act then ask questions lately. I trust you but I don't trust everyone you take into your house. They could take all of your jewelry before they disappear or it could be much much worse."

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely defenseless." The first years John was assigned to you, he had decided to teach you the basics of self-defense. He couldn't always be with you and you hadn't been able to throw a punch to save your life. The lessons had paid off and, although you were no black belt student, you could defend yourself to an extent if you had to. "I'm serious, you don't have to come over. What about Alice? She wouldn't want her father running off when he promised her he would spend the week with her."

John huffed. "You are evil, using my daughter against me."

"I will add it to my resume," you said. "I'm alright and I'm going to be alright. You know I'm not alone, if anything happens we can count on each other, and you can come in a few days when your break is over and check in."

"I'll accept this only because I have heard Namjoon growl when he thinks someone in his pack is threatened," you felt warmth seep in your cheeks when John mentioned so casually that you were part of their pack, "and Jungkook has gained enough muscle in the last few months to launch a nice punch if he needs to protect himself or someone." It was difficult to imagine your sweet bunny hybrid punching anyone, especially given the way you had found him, but it was true that the time he spent in the gym paid off.

John didn't come over. He stayed with his daughter because he had promised they would go to the zoo together as soon as she woke up from her afternoon nap. You went through a few papers after the phone call, reassuring yourself multiple times that the whole TV show wouldn’t crumble because you had taken one day off work (you really needed to work on your sense of self-importance). Jimin had turned his body on the desk so he could see what you were doing without taking up too much space.

They would be fine without you. The conclusion wasn't hard to reach but you had tortured yourself a lot over it. Missing days of work was almost unheard for you. You scheduled your life around your work schedule, the breaks were on specific dates and you didn't need to take extra ones. To miss work, you had to be so sick you couldn't get out of bed without fainting.

You put the papers in their respective folders and placed them back on the bookshelves. "Now that we are alone, do you think you can tell me what happened?" you asked, feeling Jimin's eyes on your back.

"I-" He averted his gaze, his fingers wrapping and unwrapping on the hem of his shirt, wrinkles forming on the material and smoothing out again. "I'm sorry."

You walked around the desk, coming closer to him. "That's not what I wanted to hear. A warning before taking off would have been nice, though. My mind went to the worst possibility and you wouldn't answer my calls or wait for me."

Jimin was about to apologize but stopped himself. "I couldn't lose him. I couldn't stop running, I couldn't lose him again. I couldn't really hear you... It was like a fog was over everything other than the path I was following. I needed to make sure it was Yoongi, that he was alright."

You touched Jimin's thighs, situating him better on the desk so you were standing between his legs. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

He hesitated before reaching for your hand and holding it in his. He brought it close to his face and started nuzzling on your wrist. He had told you your scent calmed him and he liked it when your scents mingled. Placing a kiss on the center of your wrist, he pulled back a little, keeping your hand in his.

"He was there, in my old house," he said. "I was around sixteen when he was brought in. My owner didn't say why he was there but Yoongi is a panther hybrid, he could brag about him to his friend and he was also a guard. He was supposed to be protecting the house, to be protecting me. I was all alone there and then I wasn't. He was suddenly there and I wanted a friend so bad. Yoongi was gentle and he was kind, he would stay with me when I was feeling lonely. He cooked for me when he could, the food was delicious. I remember loving it but I'm not sure it was because of the food itself or because he was the one who had cooked it. Maybe both." He lowered his head, his cat ears pinned to his head. "We did something. We did something very bad. He took Yoongi away and I was returned to the adoption center. I never learnt what he did to him. I thought..." His voice cracked.

You shushed him, stepping even closer and taking his into your arms. He wrapped his arms around your neck pulling you against his chest. "He's alright. You're safe here. This is a safe place."

"I know," he mumbled into your shoulder. "I know."

You cupped his neck with one hand, rubbing small circles with your thumb on his neck. "Do you trust him? Do you trust him to stay here until Hoseok recovers?"

He nodded. "I trust him, I would trust him with my life."

You held him in silence for some time, just feeling him breath against your chest. "What did you do with Yoongi?" you asked, curious. Jimin stiffened, you felt like he was holding his breath. "You don't have to tell me."

His body relaxed a little, leaning on you. "I can't, we shouldn't have done it. We betrayed him. I couldn't hold myself back, I was weak. I'm stronger now, I promise. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if your hated me."

What he said made you jolt back. Jimin whined lowly but you were quick to cup his soft cheek. "I could never hate you. Nothing in this world could make me hate you," you said, gazing into his watery eyes. Even with tears threatening to fall, he looked beautiful. "My Jiminie. Nothing you say will ever change my feelings about you. Your past doesn't define you. Whatever you did to that man, he deserved it."

"But you don't."

You didn't understand what he meant. "What?" You looked into his eyes but you only found sadness there. The small smile on his lips hurt more than his tears would.

He sniffled. "Don't leave me. Don't throw me away," he pleaded.

You squeezed his thigh, leaning your forehead against his. "Never, I'll never leave you. I will always watch over you, I swear."

“I’m not worth it. I’m not worthy of the care you give me,” he whimpered.

“You are. You are worth everything and so much more.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Namjoon was sitting on the largest couch in the living room, a documentary about ocean life playing on TV. His ears twitched a little when he heard you climbing up the stairs. You stayed standing for a moment, watching the screen as a blue whale emerged from the water shooting up a water water spray like a fountain. Their tails flapped against the water. Such magnificent creatures. They were endangered species, the man speaking explained, hunted and killed for their meat and blubber. On top of that, pollution, vessel strikes, entanglement in traps and nets and more.

If there was one thing humans knew how to do is destroy beautiful things.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked.

You shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be asking that? Or some variation of it?” You turned away from the screen and settled on the couch, leaving some distance between you. “I didn’t have the chance to ask you before springing this on you.”

“I can handle it, I think,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t think Jimin left you much of a choice if he ran after him. If his mind is set on something, he won’t stop until he gets it.”

“Do you know anything about him? Yoongi? Jimin told me some things but he doesn’t want to say everything.”

Namjoon shook his head. “I didn’t even know he existed until now. Jimin never mentioned it. He doesn’t like talking about his past. I can understand, but then things like this happen. I just wish he shared more with us, so we could help him.”

“I know,” you agreed. “I feel the same. But it’s only temporary. In about a week Hoseok will be well enough to go. Not completely healed, that could take up to a month or more, but he will be better.”

He cracked a small smile. “You can’t really stand there doing nothing, can you?”

You couldn’t, could you? You had always been one to try to help in any way you could. It didn’t matter what the problem was, you wanted to help. An issue at work, a dilemma one of your friends was facing, human rights, poverty, hunger. Homeless injured hybrids. But you usually were careful, you would think the problem over, review all the points and then try to find a solution.

Since when did you throw caution to the wind?

You liked to pride yourself on your mind. You could see the things other people couldn’t and laid new paths when others hadn’t bothered to stray a foot from the blocked road. It felt like you were slipping.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you said, hiding your face in your hands. “Jimin was so sad and Hoseok’s ribs are fractured-”

Namjoon cut you off by tugging at your arm. He pulled you closer to him. “I trust you, you know I trust you.”

“That doesn’t always make things better,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder. “What if I’m wrong? What if you trusted me and I’m wrong? And, I don’t know, something really bad happens.”

“Then we’ll face the consequences together.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll tell you if I think you’re wrong and we will work it out. Now, I’m not sure. We don’t know what happened or why one of them has fractured ribs and a broken arm. I saw the blood on Yoongi’s hands. All we know is that he was part of Jimin’s past.”

The screen was darker as lion fish were swimming around the bottom of the sea, illuminated by blue light. They weren’t afraid of the diver, aware of the poison in their back spines, the narrator said.

You shuffled around a little, getting comfortable on Namjoon’s side. His arm snaked around your waist, settling on your hip. The words unsaid between the two of you were choking you.

“Jungkook came to me earlier,” he said. “He was crying. He told me he had done something horrible, something he couldn’t forgive himself for. It took me hours to calm him down. He said I needed to find Jimin and make sure he was okay. After what he had done, Jungkook said he wouldn’t want to see him again.”

You frowned. “Jungkook said that?” That sounded nothing like the sweet boy you knew. Sure, Jungkook liked joking around, teasing all of you and he could be very stubborn. But he looked at Jimin like he was his muse and whatever he created would be bland and pointless without him. “Jimin caught me last minute before I left the house. He didn’t look well, he was panicked. It was like he was trying to escape something. He didn’t tell me what happened and I didn’t want to push him and make things worse. Where is Jungkook?"

“At the atelier, Jin is there with him. I don't know what we'd do without him," Namjoon said. You agreed. Jin had slotted into your lives like he was always meant to be there. "What about Jimin? Wasn't he with you?"

"He came with me to my office, before I came upstairs he said he was tired and he left to go to your room."

The sun was setting outside, the sky turning navy as the colors of the day receded. You felt like only a few minutes ago you had been about to walk out the door to meet up with Zayn.

Namjoon's hand was rubbing your arm up and down, the touch calming something deep inside you. You had so many questions, so many doubts about what you were doing. There were so many ways this could go wrong. Jimin was in a fragile state. If what Jungkook had told Namjoon was true to some extent, Jimin would be in a really bad place. On top of that, a person from his past showing up could ruin all his progress. Most of all, you were afraid your Jimin would get hurt.

"You're thinking too loud again."

You groaned, burying your head in his shoulder. "I'm not." You turned to the TV trying to erase the look on your face. The deepest parts of the sea were home to so many creatures. Small and large, all of them had adapted to live in darkness. Adapting. Such an interesting skill.

You squirmed in Namjoon's arms, he loosened his hold on you so you could sit up straighter. You hadn't talked about the night when you had been beating yourself up for saying the wrong thing, Jin's retreating form, head lowered, haunting you. Namjoon had a way to make your brain go quiet, something you hadn't learnt how to do regardless of how much you tried. You had been floating and for once you had fallen asleep without tossing and turning.

But you hadn't talked and you couldn't decide if it was better that way or if it would only serve to torment you further. The doubts came, like they always did, and you weren't ready to deflect them.

Namjoon's clever eyes were on you as you traced invisible swirls from his shoulder, his neck and up his face. Your knuckles ran over his cheek in a feather-light touch. His hand covered yours, bringing it to his mouth and placing a kiss in the center of your palm. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest.

"Can I?" he asked, leaning closer. You could do nothing but nod. His lips touched yours gently at first, before both of you got lost in the feeling. This kind of kissing was reserved for books and movies, it wasn't something that was supposed to happen in real life and yet... How could you settle for anything less after this?

This, this was something you could write about. Something to fill up all those blank pages taunting you. Paragraphs upon paragraphs attempting to describe that feeling spreading through your whole body. You could spend your whole life trying to put this moment into words and it would be worth it.

You pulled back. A flush had crept up on Namjoon's cheeks and his hair was mussed. You probably didn't look any better. Hopefully, your makeup could cover any redness on your skin.

Your hand was still in his, held against his cheek.

"What are we doing?" you asked him, breathy from the kiss that had overtaken your whole being. "What does this mean?"

"What do you want this to be?"

Your lips twitched up. "I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

Namjoon combed a hand through your hair, twisting a strand loosely around his fingers before letting go. "It can mean whatever we want it to mean. Whatever we need it to be."

On a moment, his back straightened and he looked at the stairs. You followed his gaze but saw nothing. A few seconds later, your human ears were able to pick up steps climbing up the staircase. You got up from the couch and straightened the wrinkles on your clothes. An itch to change into clean clothes nagged at you, preferably after taking a nice long shower, but there were still things needed to be done.

Black hair was the first thing you saw before the rest of Jin came into view, but you had already guessed who it was by the careful steps he was taking. Living with them, you could distinguish between the ways they climbed up the stairs. Jungkook ran up, eager to reach his destination. Jimin occasionally skipped some steps, light on his feet like he was floating his way up. Namjoon's step were light as well and he was the most likely to miss, stalking up the stairs silently as if on a hunt. Jin was careful and measured in everything he did and this was no different.

The sugar glider hybrid glanced around, his eyes landing on the two of you in the living room. He shifted his weight on his feet.

"Hey," you said softly, coming closer. "Is Jungkook still in the atelier ?"

Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, even though he tended to stick to the other hybrids like glue. Whatever had happened earlier was enough to make him change his habits.

"He's in the middle of a painting," Jin said, biting his bottom lip. It was obvious he was worried as well, but trying to make excuses for the youngest. "I'm going to cook dinner."

The sun had set by now but you couldn't comprehend how late it had gotten. Time to make dinner. On an average work day you would be wrapping up now and checking off the tasks you had completed, making sure everything was going according to plan before leaving.

"I'll help you then," you said, nudging his hands with yours. The two of you go to the kitchen and Jin starts pulling out bowls from the cupboards. "What are we making?"

Jin paused. "Now that you're here, we can make whatever you want. But I can cook. You should rest, you must be tired."

"No more tired than usual." It was true in a weird way. Your body was actually feeling less like it would need to sleep for a week to restore all its functions and more like something heavy you didn't recognize had wrapped itself around your shoulders. "You? How are you feeling?"

Jin fiddled with one of the bowls. "I'm alright."

On a couple shelves, away from where most of the action took place, your cookbooks were lined in neat rows. You picked up one of your favorites, the well-known chef smiling at you from the cover.

"It's okay if you aren't," you said. "It was very unexpected. It'd be understandable if you felt uncomfortable or upset. I didn't get a chance to warn you before bringing practically two strangers into your home."

The bowl was apparently very fascinating for Jin because he was looking nowhere else as he forced a smile. "I couldn't be upset. I was a stranger coming here, too."

You left the cookbook on the counter. "The circumstances were different. I had called the others before adopting you and we had all agreed that I would bring you home with me. I adopted you, you came to stay. They will be leaving soon."

"It's just... I'm not used to strangers," he admitted.

You moved around the kitchen island, standing next to him. You gave him space in case he wanted to move away but he only leaned closer to you. "This is your home and all I want for you is to feel safe here. I'm sorry I didn't call you to ask before bringing them here. I don't want you to act like you don't mind if you actually do. You have a right to be upset."

You brought your foreheads together, rubbing gently. A rare purr escaped Jin and although his cheeks reddened he didn't pull away at the sound like he used to do.

The kitchen filled with noise as you started preparing the dishes. You had decided on chicken with honey and garlic as the main dish and you would make a few side-dishes because you didn't know what the new hybrids liked to eat. Halfway through, when you had added the honey, the diced garlic and the soy sauce in the pan, the itch under your skin got too long and you left to go shower.

Washing away the day felt almost cathartic. The worst parts of it falling down the drain. It was your favorite part of coming home, second only to seeing your hybrids and spending time with them. Freshly washed and dressed into sweatpants and a comfortable top, you got out of your room. Dinner wasn't ready yet but Jin didn't need any more help. Any other day you would get your laptop and open one of the files in your to-do-list but this time you climbed down the stairs to the second level.

Knocking on the door, you took a step back and waited.

"Who is it?" a gruff voice you recognized as Yoongi's called from inside.

"It's Y/N." You didn't elaborate further, curious to see what he would do. Contrary to what you had expected, you heard the key being turned. The door opened, Yoongi peeking at you through the crack.

"What do you want?"

"Dinner is almost ready," you said. "I came to check in on you. Has Hoseok woken up? I wanted to see how well the medication worked."

You could sense Yoongi contemplating shutting the door in your face before a small voice from inside said, "I'm awake."

Yoongi muttered under his breath but opened the door further letting you in. The room was mostly untouched, only the bed Hoseok had been sleeping in gave an indication that someone had been inside. Yoongi had taken a shower but changed back into his own clothes, which he had pulled out from the small duffel bag. The green duffel bag, as worn as their clothes, was the only thing they had carried with them. It was small and certainly not enough for two people to live out of.

Hoseok was laying on the bed, making himself as small as he could without aggravating his injuries. In the hand that wasn't in the cast, he was clinging to the blanket he had with him in the abandoned building. It desperately needed to be washed but you weren't sure it could be salvaged. The light in the room was in the lower setting not to aggravate his eyes. His fluffy tail was curled around his waist, dirt staining it and parts sticking together with grime.

He stuttered answering your questions but overall he looked better. The granite floor with only a thin blanket to lay on wasn't a place someone could actually rest on. You offered to bring him some clothes to change into. Unlike Yoongi, he accepted.

Jacob's clothes had really come in handy. You would have never guessed that you would find a use for them when he left them behind. You had even considered throwing them out at one of your lowest points. Jacob's promise to remain friends and the excuse he would be coming over had been proven a lie or just wistful thinking. They weren't taking too much space, considering how large your closet was, but you had no use for them but sentimental memories you no longer needed. Until February, that is.

Some of Namjoon's clothes would fit Hoseok better, but you dismissed the idea without considering it. The hybrid's scent would be too prominent on the clothes. Jimin liked wearing the others' clothes because he claimed he loved being enveloped in their scents. It was also the reason he had stolen one of your hoodies that fit him and refused to give it back.

Jacob's scent had faded from his clothes after so many months, Namjoon had confirmed it. He had left in early December, five months had come and passed since then. You could remember the months leading up to the break up. It wasn't the fights, there weren't many of them, but the silence and the distance that had broken you. You had been at work all day and he had been at the studio. When he went out you either couldn't go because you were busy or you were too tired to. He didn't get your hobbies. He wasn't a fan of reading and he didn't let you listen to his tracks before they were ready. You weren't good at giving feedback, he had told you laughing after you had said the track felt like something was missing in the chorus. You had been getting further and further apart for more than a year. The house was but a way to fool yourself that everything was alright.

Yoongi had helped Hoseok shower, following your advice to not ruin the cast on his arm and wet the bandages you had wrapped around some of the deeper wounds.

Dinner was different. You had carried two trays down with Jin's help for the two hybrids. It was better for Hoseok not to move and even if he could, Yoongi wouldn't be thrilled at the idea. Jungkook didn't come up for dinner. He wouldn't leave the atelier and Jin carried another tray to him, because there was no way he would let him go without eating. Jimin asked after him. He didn't speak for the rest of dinner picking up the food on his plate with a guilty expression on his face.

John did come the next morning. He didn't press and didn't threaten anyone, not that you had expected him to but it was a relief nonetheless. John was an intimidating man with his height and bulkiness. Yoongi hissed, backing into a corner when he saw him. John looked him up and down, taking in his split lip, the bruises and his worn clothes, and then showed you a picture of his daughter on his phone. Yoongi regarded him for a little longer before disappearing again.

Jungkook and Jimin were avoiding each other. Jungkook did everything in his power not to find himself in the same room as Jimin, getting up and leaving whenever Jimin entered. The hurt on Jimin's face was heartbreaking every time it happened. You tried to comfort him but you couldn't do much when you were gone most of the day and you had to check Hoseok's injuries every morning and night.

You were in your office scanning a few documents when the email was delivered. Your hand froze, unable to comprehend the contents at first.

There was a knock on the half-opened door. Namjoon walked inside. "Are you coming for dinner?"

You looked up from your phone. "I have to go to Virginia the day after tomorrow."

#bts #bts hybrid au #btscreatorscorner #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #bts angst #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fluff #jikook #yoonmin #sope

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penguintransporter · 3 years

Text

Walker (John Stones imagine) Part III

Okay, this is definitely turning into a story, rather than imagine, but I am so enjoying writing this, but I think since the chapters are much shorter, it’ll need two more chapters to complete it. This one is dedicated to everyone who has read and liked the previous chapters, but especially @rosie7703 hope you enjoy this one as well. Read, enjoy, like, comment, reblog, whatever you feel like doing. Love you all!

Part I | Part II

Rosie’s phone vibrated in the back pocket of her dark, denim jeans, and when she reached out for it to check it, she couldn’t help but smile like a fool at the name that was written on the screen.

Have a safe trip, Rosie.

Sheepishly, she sucked in her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling her heartbeat accelerate - fingers hovering over the reply button. When she gave him the phone number the night before, and told him to text her, she never thought he would actually do it, but he did - the very same night, giving her the reason to stay awake more than she had planned too.

Rosie kept smiling to herself as she thought about her answer, but as she was about to type it, the doors of her brother’s room opened with a small squeak, making her lock the phone and put it away.

“What drugs did you take this morning?” her brother asked, walking through the narrow doorway and into the kitchen, wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms and a wrinkled t-shirt with the emblem of his favourite football club, embroidered on the left side of his chest. Both items that he was wearing were way too small for him and his lanky figure - trousers barely reaching his ankles. “Having you smile like that so early in the morning is unsettling.”

Rosie grinned, looking over her shoulder at her younger sibling as she filled the old kettle with tap water, suddenly feeling sad for him. He was slumped over in a single barstool, and with his messy hair and tired face-expression, he looked as if a boulder ran him over. Twice.

“Obviously, not the same as you,” she answered, knowing perfectly that she was about to hit the right nerve.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” he muttered, lifting his head for a second from where it rested on the kitchen counter, “and I think, your happiness makes me sick to my stomach. Can you go back to being your boring self?”

Rosie only rolled her eyes at her brother’s childish behaviour before placing the kettle on the already warm hob - droplets of water sliding down and onto the stove and turning into the steam instantly.

“It’s hardly my happiness that makes you sick to your stomach,” she spoke calmly, “it’s the amount of alcohol and God knows what that you’ve consumed in the past week,” Rosie added with a grin, opening the cupboard to pick a mug from the empty shelf. How her brother survived with three mugs and two plates was beyond the mystery to her. “Cuppa?”

Her brother didn’t look up, but managed to raise his hand a little before flipping her off, and Rosie couldn’t help but laugh.

“What I need is something that will fix my head?” he muttered quietly, shaking his head before wincing - a small profanity leaving his mouth.

“I’ve got Ibuprofen,” Rosie offered.

“Nah,” he responded, sliding down from the stool before walking to the refrigerator - the white front of it covered in way too many red stickers, matching to the emblem on his t-shirt.

Rosie shrugged as she proceeded to pour the boiling water over her teabag, watching her brother from the corner of her eye as he took out a bag with, what looked like, frozen dumplings before putting it on top of his head - wincing a little as he did so. She tried to contain her laughter inside her throat as she looked back at her tea, pressing her lips together.

“Hey,” she started, trying to subtly change the topic, “I need to ask you something.” Her brother ignored her as he made his way towards the sitting room, and Rosie sighed, unsure how to formulate her question without sounding too eager. “Do you know any lads named John?”

Her brother looked at her from where he was half-sitting, half-laying on the sofa with Walker sitting next to him - the dog’s head resting in her brother’s lap.

“Here? In Barnsley?” he asked as Rosie made her way towards him, stepping over her weekender bag that rested on the floor, along with her trainers and a tote-bag with some snacks for her trip home to Manchester. Rosie nodded, humming softly, while trying to contain her giddiness. “I know a few, why?”

“Any of them have tattoos?” she asked, sitting down before setting her cup of tea on a random brochure from the local sushi place.

“John Sutcliffe has a panda bear on his arse, but you know him. Why?”

Rosie made a small grimace, remembering who exactly John Sutcliffe was and why she remembered him in the first place. Their first encounter ended up with him stealing a pair of knickers from Rosie’s bedroom and taking it to the school with him to brag about sleeping with his mate’s older sister.

“Ah,” she murmured, trying to pretend that she wasn’t bothered by the information that her brother gave her. “I just met a lad the other day in the park,” she started again, “his face was oddly familiar and I was wondering if I’ve met him before. I thought it was maybe one of your mates.”

Her brother gave her a small, disinterested shrug, and Rosie sighed, reaching out to stroke Walker’s furry back as she took a small sip of her tea.

“It’s none that I know. The Johns that I know, two of them live in London, and the other two visit the park only at night, to drink with the bums.”

“I assume Sutcliffe is one of them,” Rosie murmured, making her brother throttle as he turned on TV.

Rosie leaned back into the sofa, taking her phone out of her pocket and looking at the screen - the stream of messages they exchanged last night greeting her. With a slide of her finger, she scrolled through them - a small smile appearing on her lips as she stopped at the particular text that made her heart skip a beat.

I really want to see you again.

“Speaking of lads named John,” her brother’s voice caught her attention, stopping her train of thoughts, and she curiously looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “There’s John Stones, and he’s originally from around here, a bit older than me. But, he might as well not be from around here,” he said as he placed his feet on the coffee table in front of them. “Don’t like him.”

“And he lives in Barnsley now?” she asked, eager to hear the answer - anticipation eating her on the inside. Her brother grinned at her, adjusting the bag of frozen dumplings that he still held on top of his head. “What?” Rosie inquired, almost defensively.

Her younger sibling kept his smirk on as he pointed at the TV screen with the hand in which he still held the TV remote. “You are so useless,” he muttered, “how do you even live in Manchester? It’s just bloody amazing…” he trailed off, and Rosie huffed slightly in annoyance, causing her brother to chuckle. “No, he doesn’t live in Barnsley, Rosie,” her brother drawled out, “because he’s a bloody Citizen. Liked him much better when he was at Everton.”

With a confusion etched across her face, Rosie slowly moved her gaze from her brother’s amused face and at the TV - the phone she held in her hands instantly dropping into her lap as her eyes met with the familiar blue ones.

He looked tired, but content as he stood in front of a Sky Sports backdrop, wearing a light blue jacket - his hair as sweaty as on the day when she first met him. With a small smile, John was nodding at the journalist who was asking him something, but despite the volume being high, she couldn’t hear a word because her heartbeat was drumming loudly inside her ears.

She kept her eyes focused on the man on the screen, and when he laughed at whatever they were talking about, Rosie’s heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach.

Hope you like it. Tagging quickly @avenirdelight because she asked me to do so. If you want to be tagged as well, let me know.

#john stones #manchester city #john stones imagine #john stones fanfiction #john stones oneshot #football fanfiction #football imagine #football oneshots #footballer imagines

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whumpzone · 3 years

Text

Tomas and Rowe - Part 16

in which everyone has a bad time. except kasia. he's having fun

Masterpost

taglist: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lavmars @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it @haro-whumps @simplygrimly @alex-ember @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @mnmlover2002 @jordanstrophe @princessofonward @xmonster-under-the-bed @as-a-matter-of-whump @5boys1house @crystalrainwing @starnight-whump @chifechi @unicornscotty @penny-for-your-whump @getyourwhumphere @likeit-or-whumpit @jasm0307 @lightdrinker @hurting-fictional-people @captainseconds @glamrockgregory @justbreakonme @downrivergirl914 @cdragontogacotar @whumps-up @vaguelyhumanvoid @kim-poce @kween-pinescales

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation, force feeding, stress positions, references to mouth whump and burns

Rowe took to repeating the affirmations every day, whispering them past the newly empty gaps in his gums. When he did them, he could forget for a little while that he was going to die in his cell. At least he could die as something. He wouldn’t let Kasia turn him into an empty husk.

I have worth.

I don’t deserve pain.

I’m a person.

He was careful, of course, to lock them away when Kasia visited. He tried not to associate them with pain; he said them every day when he woke up, not when he was freshly hurting. He didn’t want to ever, ever, say them in front of Kasia.

He knew if he did it would just get him another beating, but they were his. They were precious. They were a relic of Master that Kasia couldn’t corrupt.

He just had to keep his stupid mouth shut when it mattered.

For the first time since his arrival here, Rowe spent a whole day alone. The hours ticked by as he started to see shapes in the floor, and wondered if Kasia would ever return. Was this it? Had he got bored already? Would Rowe be left to die and rot after less than a week, his capture so recent he could still feel Master’s hands in his?

In reality it only meant that when Kasia did come back the next day, Rowe despised himself for the brief flash of relief. The man he was at the mercy of had returned to torture him another day.

Kasia had brought more chains, and restraints, always in his duffle bag, and Rowe had quickly learnt to shrink away at the mere sight of it. Rowe stayed curled up on the floor as he entered, eyeing him like a kicked dog.

“Did you miss me, pup?”

“Please,” he replied hoarsely. “Please give me f-food. Please.”

Rowe would never have dared beg with his first Master. But he had always known that he would be fed, eventually, once he had learnt his lesson. And of course, he’d never needed to beg Master Tomas. But here, there weren’t any rules. Nothing was guaranteed. So fuck it, he might as well try to prolong his life.

“Today’s your lucky day. I actually brought something. You’ll have to earn it, though. No getting on my fucking nerves, yeah?”

You’re the one who chooses to come here, Rowe thought despairingly.

“Okay, okay, just please-“

“Didn’t you just hear me?” Kasia kicked him in the stomach and Rowe moaned. He nodded, wincing as the burns on his neck pressed together.

“Arms up, come on.”

. . .

Tomas had made it from the shower to the downstairs sofa, and he was content with that. Not proud, no, proud would imply he was happy with himself in some way, but at least he wasn’t completely catatonic today. Luca had texted saying to answer the door if it rang, and a part of Tomas still wanted to impress him, despite it all. So he had showered and brushed the last of the blood from his hair. God, how many days had it been?

A small movement on the floor caught his eye. A spider, out of reach, too far to feasibly get him. He felt acutely aware of his own apathy then, as instead of shrieking or running away, he just stared.

The chance of the spider hurting him was practically zero. And yet he was still afraid. Afraid of it crawling over his skin, afraid that it might come near him in the night when he was asleep and vulnerable, and although he knew deep down that it wouldn’t, there was always the possibility of it deciding to run up his leg at any given moment. Even being near it made him afraid.

He thought of Rowe. He felt like he understood something. He sighed.

Luca arrived not half an hour later, banging on the door and shouting for Tomas as if nothing was wrong.

“Hey! It’s me- don’t leave me outside on this cold night. I’m only an orphan boy.”

Tomas pulled the door open. He couldn’t smile, but seeing Luca felt like the weight in his stomach was lifted slightly.

“It’s not cold. And you’re not an orphan.”

“I am happy to see you, though,” Luca said calmly. He was holding a basket, its contents hidden under a teatowel. “I brought you a pull-yourself-together hamper. Some ready meals, dry shampoo, fruit, and stuff. And the teatowel. ‘Cause why not.”

Already Tomas could feel Luca’s warmth seeping into him. He put a hand over his mouth and nodded. “Than- thanks, thank you, you know you don’t owe me anything-“

“I know, handsome lad. But the thought of Rowe being kidnapped is- god, it’s awful. Don’t worry, I’m here of my own free will. Sometimes you just need someone else in the house.”

Tomas let him inside, feeling guilty about the mess, then feeling guilty because he was the one who allowed it to accumulate.

“Let’s open a window,” Luca suggested, and Tomas sloped over. “Want me to get that spider?”

He shook his head, trying uselessly to hide his face. “It’s fine, it’s fine, you can let it stay, I’m sorry I don’t know why I’m-“

His own voice cracking cut him off but he pressed on.

“I’m fine, I really am.”

“You’re not. It’s okay.”

“Just- how- how the fuck did I let this happen. How did I not, I mean, I trusted him this whole- whole time and now it’s all gone wrong and-“

He sat heavily on the floor, leaning his face into the side of the sofa, not blinking, not seeing. He breathed out and time seemed to slow.

Luca’s hand rested on his shoulder, a gentle pressure to his fingers.

“What’s done is done. You can’t help Rowe by falling apart, and you definitely can’t help yourself like that either. It’s, ah, it’s hard. It’s really hard. But you can collapse and cry and disintegrate when Rowe is back, I promise. Do you know where Kasia lives?”

Tomas nodded. “I haven’t even thought about that. I can’t believe myself.”

“Hey, no falling apart okay?” Luca’s tone was firm, and it made Tomas pull his head up, to look at him. His hair, braided in two chunky plaits, hung asymmetrically, one past his collarbone and one down his back. His eyeliner was winged like the letter V, drawn out in a point that came sharply back over his eyelid. Pretty. “That’s good to know, though. You could catch him on his way in or out, try to strike up a deal, I don’t know. I’ve not exactly had any experience with kidnappings either.”

“Yeah, it’s fucking stupid isn’t it. This whole situation is stupid. Fuck.”

Luca just looked at him, a sad smile ghosting over his face.

“I just can’t stop thinking about all the things that might be happening,” Tomas confessed. “He’s unhinged, he really is. He’s sick. And he’s got Rowe and the police don’t care, no one cares.”

“I care. You care.”

Tomas didn’t reply and the words hung over them. Two people caring wasn’t much. But, he supposed, it was better than nothing.

. . .

Rowe’s arms would dislocate, they would they absolutely would, Kasia was setting him up to dislocate both his god damn shoulders or arms or whatever. Rowe could hardly tell where the pain was located, it felt like it was everywhere, burning through his like a fire burns a taut string.

The food- dog food, but still edible, still something- sat before him, emptied on the floor, and from where Rowe knelt he should’ve been able to lean and eat easily. But Kasia had his arms bound and tied to the bars of the cage door, pulling them back and turning any movement into agony. Not only was he bent out of shape, but the burns along his shoulders were irritated awfully. He was sure his skin would burst open any second.

It had been twenty minutes at most, and already he was exhausted. Sweat rolled down him, dripping off his nose. He could hardly breathe.

Kasia’s heavy boot pressed down on the crown of his head, and his moan quickly became a scream of pain.

“No, no please!”

“I thought you were hungry. I’m helping.”

The pressure doubled, forcing Rowe’s face closer to the dog food, until he was close enough to open his mouth and take a bite. Disgust flooded him, and it only increased when he chewed. He swallowed past the collar, his throat pressing uncomfortably against it, and oh god, it felt so good, it was food in his belly, he was thankful for it despite everything. Kasia seemed satisfied and released his boot, sending Rowe’s head springing back to relieve the pressure on his shoulders. The skin near his burns had ripped and were bleeding, but nothing was dislocated.

“You’re definitely still hungry. How about another bite?”

Before Rowe could speak, Kasia had grabbed a fistful of hair, shoving him down, the sudden pull on his arms a thousand times worse than before, worse than anything, the pain was clouding his mind and he couldn’t think of anything but the barest, most built-in responses.

He screamed.

Spit flew from his mouth. Kasia kept pressing, his fingers curling tighter together, and the burning on Rowe’s scalp joined the rest of his body. His fingers were surely purple with how hard Kasia had tied them. Rowe had lost all feeling beyond his wrists.

“Please!”

Kasia ignored him.

“Please, st-stop, please M-M-Master Tomas help me-“

“He’s not fucking coming you stupid dog,” Kasia growled and pulled Rowe’s face all the way down, cracking his chin against the concrete, a deep shooting pain through his face and remaining teeth. He moaned. More skin tore along his shoulders. “No one’s coming to save you.”

A kick sent him lurching to the side, twisting his body until he was sprawled with his back to the floor, staring up at his bound hands, which were a mixture of blue and purple and were not moving at all.

He turned his head to see Kasia grabbing a fistful of the dog food from the floor and stepping over him.

“Mouth open.” Rowe complied and Kasia smiled mockingly. “Good boy.”

The dog food was shoved in, packing against the walls of his mouth, Kasia’s fingers prodding his gums, and it took everything not to vomit. His stomach heaved but nothing came. All he could do was be a good boy, and eat.

“Tomas isn’t your Master. He’s not coming.”

Present tense, thought Rowe as his eyes watered from the taste. He’s not dead.

. . .

Tomas couldn’t stop his legs from shaking as he stood on Kasia’s street, his hands tucked under his armpits for warmth. Yeah, the shaking was definitely just from the cold. Sure.

By the time Kasia appeared, it was night. He stalked down the street, stumbling slightly, and Tomas realised he was drunk. If he hadn’t had a reason to be there, he would have walked away right now, and fast.

When Kasia got close enough, Tomas stepped out of the shadows, forcing Kasia to stop and fix him with a glare.

“Give him back.”

“Or what?” he asked flatly, as if this meeting was no surprise. “Hah, you look like shit Tomas.”

“Give him fucking back, what do you want for him, money? You’re torturing a human being you sick fuck.”

“I’m having some fun with a Pet,” Kasia smiled. “And if you start whining like this I will just kill him.”

Tomas stiffened. “You wouldn’t.”

“You so sure about that?”

“Let him go.”

“No,” Kasia pushed him once and Tomas stumbled back, hitting a wall. He blinked and Kasia’s face was pressed up in front of his. He stank of booze and cigarettes. “Fuck off or I’ll kill him. I’ll hurt him worse to make up for this, too.”

“No, fuck no just leave him fucking alone-“

Kasia swung once, but mercifully something made him miss. Carelessness, the alcohol, perhaps just the assumption that Tomas was too pathetic to move out of the way. His fist cracked against the wall and as he shouted in pain Tomas considered kicking him between the legs, spitting on him, whatever. But Rowe’s life was at stake so, like the coward he was, he ran into the night, Kasia shouting taunts behind him.

Luca looked up when he pushed through the door, panting. He’d run the entire way. Luca stayed silent; the look on Tomas’s face was telling enough.

“I’m a fucking failure,” he whispered, and started to cry.

#whump #pet whump #whump fic #dehumanisation #tomas and rowe #mine #enjoy!#i hope this is a satisfying chapter #will tungle tag people in this? who knows

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crowdedimagines · 4 years

Text

Meant To Be - Harry Styles

i am a WHORE for singledad!harry 🤩 3k

Just like nearly all of the other boys in the band, Harry fell right in line and became a father shortly after the release of his first album. He couldn’t have been more excited, being a dad has always been something he craved. The only thing he would change would be the fact that he wished it happened out of love, rather than a one night stand with a woman who would give up full custody only eight days after their son was born.

She was young, not ready for motherhood and definitely not ready to deal with being the mother of Harry Styles’ child, and that Harry couldn’t blame her for that. Even though he would never understand how anyone could leave a part of themselves. How someone could give up their own child.

So for a while Harry took a break from the public and raised his son. His fans were understanding of the break, just waiting for the day he would come back to them. He was alone, but never really. He always had the help of Anne and Gemma, not to mention all of the close friends who wanted to steal away little Sawyer who was truly a mini Harry. A mess of loose brown curls that were impossible to tame.

Sawyer was nearly three when Y/n came into their lives. She was soft and warm, and both boys were quick to fall. Anne introduced them, she had come across Y/n at her grocery store.

“Harry, you just have to meet her.” Anne gushed, following Harry around her living room as he picks up toys that had been littered throughout her house.

“Mum, I don’t think I need you setting me up. I’m not looking for anything right now.” Harry tried explaining, he was tired about his mother talking about this woman that she had encountered and befriended.

“You guys are meant to be!”

“Mum-”

“Trust me on this one, when I met her I just had this gut feeling.”

“What d’ya mean?” Harry asks, finally pausing to look at her.

“Like she’s going to be family one day.”

Harry didn’t have time for dating, not while raising his son and still finding time to write music. He would love to share his life with someone other than Sawyer, but he didn’t need it.

He wasn’t surprised even slightly when he came down for breakfast with Sawyer tucked on his hip to find out that Y/n would be joining them for lunch. His mother wouldn’t miss the opportunity of him staying with her. She was taking advantage of Harry making a week-long trip north to visit.

Lunch came fast and Sawyer was just getting up from his nap when Y/n knocked on the door.

“Y/n! C’mon in!” Anne ushered her straight through the front door.

“Your home is lovely.”

Harry heard her voice before he caught a glimpse and it would be a lie to say that his heart didn’t skip a beat when he rounded the corner and saw her for the first time.

She was talking enthusiastically with Anne that had something to do with the paint in the entryway. His mother had mentioned something about her being an interior designer. He didn’t even have to exchange words with the girl to know what his mom was talking about. He had the same feeling that she had, this girl was different.

“Hi!” His typically shy boy says loudly, revealing to both of the women that he was standing there.

Y/n turns to face them, a warm grin already gracing her face.

“And you must be Sawyer.”

Sawyer nods, turning back to his shy roots. He ducks his head back against Harry’s neck to hide away a little.

“Hi, I’m Y/n.” She greets, introducing herself to both of them now.

“It’s lovely to meet you.” Harry smiles.

“Likewise.”

After that they moved onto lunch in Anne’s garden. The conversation was overflowing, Harry had never felt to at ease talking with someone, especially not after having Sawyer.

Anne was all too proud to say ‘I told you so’ to Harry as soon as she shut the door behind Y/n. It was impossible to miss the connection they shared, and if that wasn’t enough she caught them exchanging phone numbers towards the end of their day.

They moved quickly after that, texting, calling, and facetiming as often as they could which lead to dates. Only a month after meeting each other Harry asked her to be his girlfriend. She was happy to say yes, and just thankful to be exclusive with the boy who had taken over her heart and mind the past few weeks.

So for months they dated, things going better than any other relationship they had ever been in. Harry loved her for everything that made her Y/n. For the way she treated Sawyer and respected their relationship.

It was only seven months into their relationship when Harry decided that he was going to propose, he wanted Y/n to be his wife as soon as possible. He knew after the third date that he wanted to keep her around, but it was a cold day in London when he knew for sure that she would forever be family to himself and Sawyer.

Sawyer was on day two of his cold, he finally had medication but he was still having trouble with his cough and couldn’t always breath. Harry was worried, but he had been through the flu and colds with Sawyer before. Y/n hadn’t and she had been more than attentive at the doctor's office. Harry couldn’t help, but smile over her concern and her many many questions.

She settled once they got home and meds that could help.

“I hate feeling helpless like this.” Y/n mutters as she takes the kettle off so that both her and Harry could have some tea.

“You’re not helpless, love.” Harry reassures, “Kids get sick.”

“I know.” She sighs.

She lets out a yawn as she brings over a mug to Harry at the counter. Harry presses a kiss to her temple as a thank you. They were both tired, checking in on Sawyer last night a little, making sure that he was still breathing. Y/n spent the night, like she always does. Rarely does she leave the Styles home these days.

Y/n whips up some dinner for them, earlier than they would normally, but they all need their sleep. After they’ve all filled their bellies with a sufficient amount of pasta Harry gives Sawyer a bath while Y/n cleans up their dishes.

“Daddy, I want Y/n to pick out my pajamas.”

Harry pauses drying off his son, pleasantly surprised by his request. Sawyer likes Y/n, more than most, but the bond that the father and son had was tough to ever beat. Anything that he could get from his father, that’s the way he wanted it.

“Y/n, you’re being requested.” Harry yells just loud enough for her to hear downstairs.

“What can I do for my boys.” She leans against the doorway to the bathroom, a smile on her face.

Harry gives his boy a nudge to ask her himself.

“Will you pick out my pajamas tonight?”

“I would love to.” Y/n grins, “Lets go little man.”

Harry watches from the floor as they take off together for Sawyer’s room. He listens to them talk softly in the next room for a while before he drains the tub and puts away all of the toys. Once he’s cleaned up a bit he comes in to see Sawyer tucked in his bed, Y/n sitting on the edge. She’s just given him his night medication to help him sleep.

“Goodnight, Soy.” She presses a kiss to his forehead, Sawyer smiling at his nickname.

She gets up from the bed and notices Harry watching them from the doorway. She pats him on the shoulder as she walks out, giving them space to talk a little and say goodnight to each other. By the time Harry comes back to their room Y/n is sitting up against the headboard, rubbing in a lotion over her arms.

“Is he out?” She asks, looking up.

“Yeah, I think that medicine knocked him out. I just hope he can sleep through the night tonight.” Harry sighs, he lets himself fall on the bed. Y/n reaches out a hand to lightly rub his back. They stay like that for a few minutes until Harry gets up to turn off the lights and take off his clothes to sleep. The pair fall asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

It’s a few hours later when Harry can hear a soft voice, it’s enough to pull him out of his deep sleep and open his eyes. The door to his bedroom is open and the light is on in the hall.

“Daddy.” Sawyer whispers, grabbing his attention, Harry looks down to see his son standing at the edge of his bed.

“Hey, what’re you doing up?” Harry sits up, wiping at his eyes.

“My throat hurts.” Sawyer barks out a few coughs.

“Alright, let's get you some more medicine.” Harry checks the time to make sure he can give him another dose before grabbing it off of his night stand.

“Can I lay with Y/n?” Sawyer asks after having taken his medicine and drinking some more water. His request shocks Harry, but he couldn’t blame the boy for wanting to crawl right in bed with them while feeling ill.

“She’s asleep right now, could you settle for me?”

Slowly tears start to fill Sawyer’s eyes. Not that he doesn’t have love for his father, but with feeling sick all he wants is to be in her arms. No one could tell you why, but something about being in Y/n’s arms had a powerful calm to them.

Harry looks over to see his girlfriend sleeping peacefully next to him. Sawyer simply raises his arms to be lifted into the bed which Harry obliges. Sawyer crawls over Harry’s lap and lads on the edge of Y/n’s hair making Harry wince.

“Y/n.” Sawyer whispers loudly.

She stirs and turns over to face them, surprised to be face to face with the little three year old rather than her own boyfriend.

“Hi lovey, how’re you feeling?” She asks, walking up a little more with each second so she can look at the teary eyed boy. He looks exhausted and it breaks Y/n’s heart.

“Hold me?” Sawyer asks simply.

Y/n lifts up the covers and opens her arms for him. She doesn’t even flinch as he openly coughs into her neck where he settles his head. Y/n lays on her back and wraps her arms around the boy, pulling the covers back up over them.

She rubs her hand up and down his small back, finally looking over to see Harry watching them.

“Did you give him some more meds?” Y/n asks softly, Harry nods and settles back in a little. It looks like this is how they’re staying for the night.

Every once in a while Sawyer coughs to break the silence in the room, Y/n never stops slowly rubbing his back. Or pushing the curls off of his forehead to press a soft kiss. She’s kicked off their blanket, growing too hot under all the close contact but never wavering in holding his son. Harry’s heart is nearly bursting at the seams at the sight.

“Marry me.” Harry’s voice a whisper soft enough just for him and Y/n to hear. He had been thinking about it all night, not to mention the weeks or months that he’s known her. Tonight has only confirmed what he already knew. Y/n looks over at him, noticing that he hasn’t changed positions and stays on his side to watch over his two favorite people.

“We don’t even live together.” She laughs, not taking his words for more than anything other than a lack of sleep.

“You take up over half of my closet now, love. You check back in on your apartment once a month practically to restock. Sawyer thinks you live here.” Harry looks down at his boy who he knows for a fact, if tonight has proven anything, it’s that he wants Y/n to be just as much a part of his life as Harry.

“Are you crazy?” Y/n turns to fully look at him now, taking in how serious he is being. It’s only been a few months, he can’t be serious.

“Y/n I could’ve proposed the moment you walked through my mother’s front door. I knew then and she knew before we even met.” Harry reaches out to tuck a strand back off her forehead behind her ear, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, even once you take it back in the morning once you’re no longer suffering from sleep deprivation.” She teases, still running her hand over Sawyer‘s back.

“Stay right there.” Harry throws off the covers, careful to not wake up Sawyer.

Y/n’s eyes follow him as he walks over to his dresser and digs around in the drawer closest to the bottom. She’s beyond confused until he lets out a soft cheer and comes back to the bed. A small black velvet box in hand.

Now Y/n realizes how very serious he is being. She didn’t think Harry would throw marriage around lightly, but they haven’t been together long. She would be lying if she didn’t say that she pictured the rest of her life with these boys.

A little black box which she’s ninety percent sure doesn’t contain earrings.

“I bought this with my Mum after our third real date. Before I even asked you to be my girl technically, I was afraid to jump the gun. So instead I made an investment, I didn’t know when, but I knew someday you would get this ring. I knew it then as much as I know it now that we are meant to be.”

He pauses to clear his throat, “Y/n let me ask one more time, will you marry me?”

“Yes.” She sighs happily, Harry kneels on the bed, crawling back over to her. She finally pulls her hand away from Sawyer so he could slide the ring on.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She shifts a little more so her and Sawyer are a little more tucked into Harry’s side. All three of them cuddled up together.

“S’pretty.” She holds out her hand, looking at it shine in the moonlight.

“Picked it just for you.”

Slowly after that they all manage to drift off to sleep once again. Harry couldn’t wipe the grin off his face even if he wanted to. They manage to sleep in until late morning, finally Sawyer ends up stepping on Harry, successfully waking him up.

“I want breakfast.” Sawyer says.

“Alright let's go.” He pulls him off the bed and they make their way down to the kitchen. Harry has managed to make pancakes, eggs, and fresh orange juice by the time Y/n makes it downstairs.

“You want to take this back?” She holds up her hand to show off the large ring that now adorns it.

“Not even slightly, do you?” He looks back to her across the kitchen island.

She shakes her head, a wide smile now gracing her face. She walks over and presses a long kiss against his lips. She had been afraid that it was all a dream. It couldn’t be real that she could be this lucky to be asked into such a blessing of a family.

“Y/n!” Sawyer yells loudly from his chair at the table, “Guess what?”

“What?” She asks back with just as much enthusiasm, breaking away from her little bubble of Harry.

“You have healing hands!” He grins showing off his teeth.

“I do?” She walks over to sit beside him.

“Yeah, I don’t even feel sick anymore! Isn’t that right, Dad?”

“I think it is, buddy.” Harry smiles, bringing over a plate to Y/n.

“Really? And we’re sure that the medicine didn’t have anything to do with it?” She looks around at the boys. Giving Harry a smirk.

“NO!” Sawyer quickly shuts down, “I didn’t feel better until I came to sleep with you guys.”

“Ahh, healing hands it is then.” Y/n presses a kiss to the top of his head as she gets up to trade in her orange juice for some coffee.

Anne and Gemma let themselves in, eager to check in on their favorite grandson/nephew and see how he’s doing.

“Good morning!” All heads snap in the direction to see who’s arrived.

“Grandma!” Sawyer gets off his chair to race over to them, “Auntie Gem!”

“How are you feeling, love?” Anne asks, kneeling down to his height.

“I’m all better!” He cheers, causing everyone to laugh at his enthusiasm.

“You’re all better?” Gemma asks, stealing a hug from the boy.

“Yeah, and guess what! Y/n has healing hands!” He answers before giving anyone the chance to answer, not that ‘healing hands’ would’ve been at the top of the list.

“Does she now?” Anne asks, walking over to the table to join us.

“Yeah, you have to feel them!” Sawyer insists, “She gives the best hugs too.”

“Oi, what about my hugs?” Harry interrupts, grabbing his son to tickle his sides. Laughter filling the entire room.

“I think I need one of those hugs.” Anne laughs.

Y/n happily gets up from her spot to pull Anne in for a hug. She could hug this woman forever, being a second mom to her truly and the sole reason she met the love of her life.

“I think I know what you mean, Sawyer. She’s got some magic in her.”

“Let me see those healing hands.” Gemma teases, coming over.

I roll my eyes before holding out my hands for her. Gemma just as easily becoming a hugely important part of Y/n’s life.

“Holy shit.” She mutters, taking Y/n’s left hand in hers.

“Language, Gemma.” Anne says, reminding her off the impressionable three year old two feet away. “I swear sometimes you forget who you’re with-”

“When did you two get engaged?”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #Harry Styles #singledad!harry

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elizabeethan · 3 years

Text

Never Nothing- Extra # 2

Another little extra for one of my favorite series!! Soft domestic fluff meets angst... There will be a follow up to this one, eventually.

For @the-darkdragonfly who wanted this to be a 12 part series… we’re halfway there baby

Rated T, mostly for language

~4300 words

Get added to my tag list (I keep one for everything!)

Read on Ao3

Read the rest of the series

Read my other stuff

~~~~

“Stop it.”

“I’m only trying--”

“No, stop it.”

“My love, if you’d just--”

“I don’t want to!”

“--you may find that you feel better.”

“I won’t. I will never feel better, ever, for as long as I live. I will feel exactly this horrible every second for the rest of my miserable life.”

Killian sighs softly, smiling at her despite how much it pisses her off and running his hand through her hair. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so uncomfortable.”

“Having a baby in August is not a good plan.”

“No,” he agrees. “I’m sure you must be feeling rather miserable.”

She nods, pouting. “Extremely miserable.”

He softly kisses the tip of her nose, taking out the sunscreen he’s been begging her to wear and squirting some into his hands. “Now, just imagine how hot you’d be if we were still in Phoenix.”

“Shut up,” she grumbles, leaning forward just enough for him to get her back.

“You’re the one who suggested we come to the beach.”

She glares up at him, her lips pressed into a tight line and her brows covering her eyes almost completely. “You’re on thin ice.”

“I think you’ll find there’s no ice this time of year, my darling. It’s very hot out; it would melt.”

He can’t blame her for being miserable. At 37 weeks pregnant in late July, she can’t seem to ever get comfortable. Her back hurts her endlessly, her hips are sore, she’s been suffering with horrible heartburn, and the mood swings are difficult to keep up with.

He wouldn’t have it any other way, though.

“Why don’t we get into the water? A bit of buoyancy is sure to help your back.”

She sighs in defeat and says, “I’ll probably just get sea sick. Or eaten by a shark. Or stung by a jellyfish.”

He kisses her nose once more and takes her hand, hoisting her off of the chaise lounge and placing his palm on the small of her back where he knows she’s sore. “I’ll fight off the sharks and the jellyfish, my love.”

“Promise?” she asks as she waddles towards the shore with him.

“Of course.”

She squeals as she tries to get into the chilly water, but once they’re in and she’s used to the cold, she relaxes a bit. His heart flutters when she leans back against his chest, letting him bear her weight as he runs his hand along her bump and presses a kiss to her shoulder.

Feeling her pressed against him makes the blood rush through his veins, and he’s glad for the cold water keeping any obvious signs of his arousal at bay. He’s always found her unbelievably sexy, but seeing her in her yellow bikini, her bump on full display, is enough for him to have almost kept her home today.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she grumbles, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the waves. “And no, we’re not doing it in the ocean.”

“I would perish at the thought of sullying your purity on a public beach, love.”

“Purity,” she scoffs. “I’m knocked up at 22. Nothing pure about it.”

He kisses her neck, then her cheek, and holds her close to himself, his bare wrist pressed to the side of her belly and his hand holding it tenderly. “We've talked about this, love,” he murmurs against her skin. “How this child has come to be is not important. What’s important is how fiercely the two of us love him.”

“I know,” she agrees softly, dropping her head to his shoulder and sighing as she lets herself relax further into his hold and into the gentle current of the sea. “I just wish… sometimes I just wish you were his dad.”

He sways the two of them together gently, letting the waves carry them, and reminds her, “I fully intend to be. Biology isn’t really a factor here, my love.”

She hums happily as she lets him support every ounce of her, effectively floating just below the surface with him holding her up. “I just feel… I love this baby more than anything. I don’t regret having him, I just kind of wish you'd been the one to knock me up.”

“Me too,” he laughs, “but it’s alright, because this child will be as much my son as any that I sire.”

“I love you. Sorry I’m a bitch.”

“You’re the furthest thing from it, darling. I’ll not hear you talking about yourself in such a way.”

She hums again and shrugs. “I could probably chill out a bit. I’ve been pretty snappy.”

“Well, you’re nine months pregnant.”

“Maybe I’ll keep being bitchy after the baby’s born.”

“I hope so. I like you when you’re fired up.”

She lies in his arms for a while, content to float almost weightlessly in the water as the pressure of the babe she carries is finally relieved. He feels the lad kicking about beneath the water, likely entranced by the dancing waves, and chuckles softly each time he gets a strike to his palm.

“What would you like for dinner, my love?” he asks after a long silence falls between them.

“Chinese food,” she answers immediately.

“That’s a nice dream. What do you actually want, Miss High Blood Pressure?”

“Baaaabe,” she groans, tossing her head back against his shoulder again and gripping his forearms. “I don’t want grilled chicken.”

“You don’t have to have grilled chicken. We can stop for fish.”

“The baby wants lo mein.”

“He can have some after he’s born and his mother isn’t at risk for preeclampsia.”

She grumbles some more, her words incoherent and inaudible over the sound of the water lapping around them. “Chicken,” she finally concedes. “But only if you make that sauce you made last week.”

With a snort, he asks, “you mean the one with the bacon in it?”

“That’s the one.”

“Alright, love. Let’s get you out of the water before you give birth to a raisin.”

“You’ve gotta work on your dad jokes.”

~~~~

The days seem to be getting longer and longer, time refusing to pass at a normal pace as she lives in constant torture and betrayal of her own body. She loves being pregnant, honestly, but it’s becoming a bit tiring. The baby she’s hauling around is heavy, and her back is killing her. Killian’s being very wary of her slightly elevated blood pressure when all she wants is Chinese food and chicken nuggets. Her mom still remembers her days as a perinatal nurse and won’t stop accidentally scaring her when she talks about what she’s seen during labor.

Killian’s looking forward to the delivery, and she tries not to let that piss her off. Of course, she’s more than elated to see him so excited for their child to be born, and she’s so lucky to have a partner who will be there for her throughout the whole thing. But each time he tries to show her something he’s read in a book, or a breathing exercise they can try together during contractions, she wants to chuck something at him. After all, she doesn’t believe that he’s truly ready for what her body will be doing in just a few short weeks.

“During a contraction, I can try to massage your lower back if you’re standing. How does that sound?”

“Standing?” she asks doubtfully. “I can barely stand during cramps.”

“Don’t let him fool you; the massages don’t help,” Granny says ominously while she places her plate before her. While he’s been very strict about her diet, Killian can’t keep her from getting her French toast from Granny’s on Sunday mornings.

“And did you have a walking epidural when you delivered in the Enchanted Forest, Granny?” he asks, his tone sarcastic.

She rolls her eyes as she places his eggs in front of him.

Taking a deep breath with her eyes squeezed shut, Emma places her hand on the top of her bump as a zip of hot pain rushes up her chest and into her throat. Killian’s silent and still as he watches her, holding his fork above his plate as his brows furrow while she waits for it to pass. Once the pain subsides, he asks, “alright?”

“Heartburn,” she breathes. He pushes her glass of water towards her encouragingly as she breathes steadily. “Damn.”

“It won’t be long, love.”

“Yeah, he better make an appearance soon. I wanna meet him so bad, and I wouldn’t mind if the indigestion went away.”

“Morning,” Ruby says happily as she refills Killian’s mug, much to Emma’s jealous vexation.

“Morning Ruby. What’s the report for this week?” he asks, happily going along with her perception of herself as the town crier.

“Not much, but there’s someone new in town. Can you believe that? The dwarves are doing some research to find out if that means we can leave.”

“Well, that will certainly be interesting,” he agrees, giving Emma a happy smile. They haven’t even bothered to attempt to leave themselves, although it’s suspected that they can.

“And everyone is excited to have a newcomer.”

“I’m sure he must be a really interesting character, what with him wanting to come to Storybrooke.”

Emma snorts, digging into her breakfast once her least favorite pregnancy symptom subsides completely.

“I haven’t met him, but I’ve heard he is kind of an ass.”

Moments later, her parents bustle into the diner and greet her with a broad smile as they approach them. “Hi honey!” her mom says happily.

“Morning,” she smiles.

“How are you feeling?” she asks as she and David scoot the two of them down in their booths. “How’s my sweet little grandson?”

Mary Margaret places a gentle hand over Emma’s bump and she stiffens just a bit. It always feels weird to have anyone but Killian put their hands on her belly. “Okay. He keeps flopping around and giving me heartburn.”

She hums in understanding, patting her belly. “Have you heard about someone new being in town?”

“We were just briefed by Ruby,” Killian answers.

“Well, I met him very briefly. He’s handsome and very charming.”

“I don’t think Emma or Hook care much about that, Snow,” David says, and Emma nods.

“Well, I heard he’s coming here for breakfast today. Isn’t that exciting? You two won’t be the newcomers anymore.”

Emma laughs and nods through another bite. “I guess that’s true.”

They continue to chat through their meal, David talking about his job as an animal control officer. Apparently, they’re thinking about adopting a dog he’d rescued a week ago, and Emma’s only seen him beam like this a few times in the short time she’s known him. Things are good, the French toast isn’t giving her heartburn, she thinks she’s going to have a good day.

Until the bell above the door rings.

And he walks in.

She takes in a gasping breath, her eyes bugging out of her head as she swings her head away from the door. “Alright?” Killian asks her softly, leaning over the table and taking her hand.

She shakes her head and feels his body go rigid with panic. If they weren’t trapped in the booth by her parents, she would grab his hand and run out the back door of the diner to escape him.

“Heartburn?” Killian asks softly, not yet alerting her parents of her sudden shift in mood. “Braxton Hicks? Contractions?!”

“No,” she croaks.

“What is it, angel? Talk to me.”

She chances a look towards the door and sees him talking with Ruby, probably flirting with her shamelessly. Then, she looks back at Killian and whispers, “Neal.”

He raises a brow in thought and then she watches as the pieces of the puzzle click into place. He nods once, looking towards the door and grimacing. Ruby starts to guide Neal towards a table and Mary Margaret gives him a friendly, excited wave before Emma can stop her. She wants to put her head through the table; maybe he won’t see her if she does that.

The only saving grace is the fact that she can spread her legs out and tuck her bump under the table. The last thing she wants right now is for him to find out that he fertilized the egg that became her son.

“Mary Margaret, right? Hi,” he greets casually. “And this must be your husband, and--”

He’s staring, but not at her. He’s gaping at Killian.

“What the… Hook?”

Killian looks as baffled as Emma must, and he gives her a look of confusion that tells her he has no idea what’s going on. Only, when he looks at her, so does Neal.

“Emma?!”

“You two know each other?”

“Oh my god,” she grumbles, dropping her head to her folded arms on the table. She’d pushed her plate away, unable to eat anything more as the stress of her sperm donor making an appearance in her life eats away at her.

“Darling, perhaps we should--” Before he can continue, she kicks him under the table, not wishing to let Neal know anything personal about her, especially the fact that she and Killian are together and that she’s expecting a baby in a few weeks.

“Darling? Are you two, like, dating or something?”

“Emma and Ho-- Killian live together,” her mother supplies, and Emma rolls her eyes.

“Huh,” Neal says in response. “You sure do move on fast.”

“Mate, that’s not--”

“I’m not your mate, pirate.”

Killian chuckles awkwardly and asks, “do we know each other?”

Neal looks like he’s ready to snap, perhaps jump across the table and strangle Killian at his cocky response, but he’s interrupted by the door opening again and Mr. Gold entering the diner. “Bae,” he calls, not yet taking notice of what he’s doing or who he’s talking to. “What are you doing?”

“Bae,” Killian breathes, staring up at Neal and Mr. Gold in astonishment. “You… you’re Neal?”

“What is going on?” Emma asks through gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than to escape. The position she’s put herself in in order to hide her bump is horribly uncomfortable on her back (and she probably looks ridiculous), and all she wants to do now is go home and sit on her new couch.

“What’s going on is your boyfriend is a piece of shit,” Neal spits at her. “You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

“What, like I picked you? Lot of good that did me, what with the police, and the court hearings, and the community service, and the--”

“Honey… This is Neal? I thought your name was Bae.”

“It was,” Neal grumbles back, turning towards his father and then back to Emma. “You told your parents about me?”

“Well, she kind of had to,” David responds condescendingly. “What with the--”

“Dad. Please stop.”

“The what?”

“Son, let’s go enjoy our breakfast and leave the family drama for later.”

The baby starts wiggling just as another bout of heartburn curses her, and she hisses, pushing her fist against her chest and leaning forward even more until she’s in an awkward position. “Honey, you need some tums. I told you, they’re safe for the ba--”

“I’m fine,” she seethes, swallowing and breathing deeply through the feeling of lava crawling up her throat. She wants to leave so badly, but the moment she moves to stand, her pregnancy will become more than obvious.

“Family drama,” Neal laughs. “That’s rich, isn’t it, Hook? First my mom and now my girlfriend?”

Emma glares up at him, practicing her mom-look. “Go away,” she insists.

He scoffs and says, “Ems, come on. Let's get you out of here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Bae is Neal?” Killian asks through continued astonishment, looking down at his hand with his mouth agape, his brows furrowed.

“Stop calling me that,” Neal snaps. “You lost your right to talk to me when you killed my mother and sold me to Pan.”

Emma knows this isn’t true; Killian told her the story about the Crocodile murdering his first love in front of him. He told her about how he found her son years later and wanted to raise him as his own. She just had no idea that her son was… Neal. Evidently, Killian didn’t either.

“Neal, go away. Leave us alone like you left me to rot.”

“I did that for your own good. You had to break the curse.”

“Right,” she scoffs. She wants nothing more than to rub in his face the fact that he abandoned her, homeless and poor and pregnant, but she holds in her anger. Truthfully, Neal leaving was one of the better things to have happened to her. It gave her Killian and their baby. It brought her to her family. It helped her find out who she is.

Those facts don't make his betrayal sting any less, though.

“Killian, maybe you should take Emma home,” her mother suggests through the haze of anger and confusion surrounding the table. He looks up at Snow, his jaw still dropped towards the floor and his eyes swimming with the guilt of his past, and nods.

“Aye,” he agrees, shaking his head and taking Emma’s hands. “Come, love. Let’s sail away.”

She wants nothing more than to agree, to nod and smile at him, taking his hands and letting him lead her out of the diner, but Neal remains firmly planted outside of their booth. If she stands now, she’ll reveal herself. She looks at Killian meaningfully with wide eyes, then glances down towards her belly and up in Neal’s direction.

He understands effortlessly and turns towards Neal, asking, “do you mind, mate? We’d like to head out.”

Neal rolls his eyes and concedes, stepping away from their booth and towards his father, and Mary Margaret and David stand to give them a path out of their seats. They're almost home free-- she can see the light at the end of the diner-- Killian leading the way and effectively hiding the evidence of her pregnancy. Or so she thinks.

Just as Killian’s hand reaches the door, about to push it open and gain their sweet escape, Ruby cuts them off with an excited greeting to Emma, reaching to give her a hug as she usually does and asking, “how’s my favorite little nephew doing? What is it now; three weeks to go?”

Emma freezes, eyes wide and face pale as Killian’s back goes stiff in front of her. The diner is silent, the early breakfast rush long over, and she knows Neal heard her. It’s confirmed when she hears the scratch of the chair against the floor as he stands and calls, “what, so he knocked you up, too? What a stand-up guy.”

The blood in her veins chills at his statements. Her jaw starts hurting with how forcefully she’s clenching it. She watches Killian turn around and fears that he’s going to confront Neal with the truth. In reality, though, he turns and looks only at her, taking her hands in his easily despite the fact that one is missing, courtesy of her ex’s father. “It’s alright,” he whispers, showing her just how much he understands her. Showing her that he can tell exactly what she’s thinking; can read the fear in her eyes at the thought of Neal finding out that this child is technically a part of him. “We can go,” he tells her.

She can’t help but to spin around, half turning to face Neal with tearfilled eyes, looking at him just once so that she can remind herself of the mistakes she’s made in her past. So that she can compare the despair he brought her with the joy that Killian brings so effortlessly. But it’s a mistake. She watches as his face falls, seemingly seeing just how pregnant she really is.

“Is that… are you…” He looks up at the ceiling, flexing his fingers as if counting on them. Counting the months since they were last together. Realizing it’s been almost nine months since their last encounter. Taking in just how large her bump is. “Emma…?”

She should just turn around and leave, or ignore him; refuse to give attention to his thoughts so that she doesn't spur them on. But instead, she lets out a choked sob and buries her face in her hands as her tears flow freely.

Killian’s hand is on her back immediately, running soothing circles along her skin as he moves to stand in front of her and blocks her view of the rest of the world, consuming her with only his ocean-blue eyes. “It’s alright,” he whispers again.

“Did she say three weeks left? Is that…”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, and although Neal’s voice cuts through the air between them like a knife, all she sees is Killian.

“I wanna go home,” she cries softly, clinging to his hand and hook.

“We will,” he promises.

“Emma, is that my kid?”

She can’t respond. All she can do is tilt her body slightly so that she’s looking past Killian’s right into Neal’s eyes, showing him the truth in her own. She can’t tell him with words that he fathered a child with her, but she knows that the look on her face is enough confirmation when his own pales and he drops back down in his chair.

He only stays there for a second before forcefully standing again, the chair colliding with the floor. Gold begs, “Bae,” reaching his hand towards his son, and Neal violently rips away from his father.

“Don’t!” He shouts. “Fuck.”

Before anyone can say anything, Neal is stalking towards Emma and Killian, and she almost feels nervous for a second, until he brushes past the two of them and slams his way out the door.

~~~~

Her lip trembles as he shuts the door, and she spins into his arms the second he locks it, bursting into tears easily. “He’s gonna take him,” she cries.

“Emma, no. That isn’t going to happen, love.”

She sobs some more, gripping his shirt with white knuckles, nodding into his neck and pulling him as close to herself as she possibly can with the bump between them. “He is.”

“You saw his face when he found out, darling. He has no interest. He’s already running.”

“Everything was so perfect. Now it’s ruined.”

“Nothing is ruined, my love,” he argues. “What makes you even say that?”

She shudders in his arms, whimpering pathetically as the hormones take over and the fear of losing her child consumes her. “I wanted--” she chokes. “I wanted you to be his dad.”

When he pulls away from her, forcing her face from his neck, she cries out again, pained at the thought that she’s losing him, too. “Angel,” he murmurs softly, soothingly. “I am his dad. Perhaps the lad will simply be lucky enough to have two.”

The violence behind her choked breathing is palpable between the two of them, showing him just how distraught she truly is as she asks, “you mean-- you mean you’re not leaving?”

“You silly thing,” he breathes through a gentle laugh, pressing their foreheads together. “Do you really believe that that fool coming into our lives will sway me? I love you. Both of you.”

Her bottom lip trembles again as his hand slides along the side of her belly, the baby kicking against his palm in greeting. The fact that he didn’t stir when faced with his biological father doesn’t get past her as he wiggles against his dad lovingly. She lets out one last soft, whimpering sob and sniffles before saying, “I love you. We both love you.”

He kisses her gently despite the tears and snot, making her laugh lightly. “Bae knows what it is to have an absent father, love. I’m… I’m truly shocked to know that the boy who lived on my ship all those years ago has done this to you. But I do believe that, now that he knows, he’ll do what he can to support you and the little lad. I believe he’ll do the right thing.”

“Maybe I don’t want him to,” she pouts.

He smiles, cupping her cheek, and says, “that’s valid. And I know you're scared. But we’ll just have to sort out what’s best for the little one.”

With a heaving sigh, she drops her forehead to his chest and shuts her eyes. “Right now, what’s best for the little one is a nap.”

“It’s only 10:30,” he jests, but despite his argument, he places his hand on the small of her back and guides her towards their bedroom. “Need a snack?”

“More French toast.”

“No. An apple.”

“Never mind,” she grumbles, pouting as she collapses on the bed and holds up her feet until he starts pulling her sandals off. He shakes his head as he laughs lightly, running his thumb over her swollen feet and kissing her cankles. “Killian?” she whispers quietly.

“Aye, love?” he asks, almost as softly as he crawls up towards her and helps her lean back onto the bed.

She grunts unattractively as her swollen body flops like a fish across the mattress, drawing a soft smile from his lips. “I’m scared,” she whispers when his front wraps around her back.

“Aye, love. I know.” His hand slides across her giant bump, the baby kicking him gently, and kisses just behind her ear. “But you’re going to be fantastic. You’re so strong, and smart, and capable of anything you set your mind to.”

“Then why can’t I just magic him out of here?”

“Bae?” he asks with a surprised laugh.

“Yeah, I’ve been trying since we got home.”

“You are a silly thing. And I love you very much.”

With a contented hum, she pulls him closer to her despite the heat. “I love you, but let me sleep now.”

“As you wish, my angel.”

~~~~

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx

#Never Nothing #extra #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #never nothing ff #cs fluff #cs angst

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babylooneytoonz · 4 years

Text

Where's My Baby? - Tommy Shelby X Reader

Requested by : Anon

Summary: Reader and Tommy Shelby have a young baby boy and one day, Tommy takes the baby out to the Garrison, only to end up forgetting the baby there and later, the reader is all worried and in tears and Tommy is angry at himself? They end up finding the baby in the end.

Warnings: Tommy being a lousy father | Garrison is still there | John never died | Grace and Charlie never happened |

Thank you to the creators for their lovely GIFs. These aren't mine. ❤️

"We are going to be fine, love. You need to go see your father." Tommy's index finger was tracing circles over the side of your neckline, his warm palm resting on your other shoulder squeezing it for support as he towered over you from your back, your body perched on a chair in the dining room with your eleven months old son, Daniel sleeping soundlessly on your chest.

Being a mother for the first time, you had your apprehensions leaving your baby alone with the household help, although you knew that Tommy was going to take good care of him. At first, you'd thought you would take Daniel with you to London but taking a small baby in a train, bringing him out to the world, was not something you wanted so early. There were all sorts of sicknesses going around outside and you felt that Daniel was the safest in the warmth of the Arrowe House.

"I don't know, Tom, I don't know if I can leave Daniel alone, what if he doesn't want to be fed ? Even the nanny called in sick today. What if he just doesn't stop crying? What if –"

"Love, calm down." Tommy walked up to your front and he knelt down in front of you, placing his palms on either of your knees, looking up into your moist eyes. "Daniel's going to be fine, I promise, I've asked Polly to come over for the day and she will take care of him."

You nodded, the corner of your lips ghosting into a frail yet reluctant smile. You knew he was right, there was no one other than Polly Gray who could take care of Daniel for you, and maybe, even better than you because she was much more experienced than you were. But parting with your baby was like pulling your heart out and handing it to someone else, even if it was for twenty four hours.

Also, there was the fact that you didn't have a choice. Your father, even though you were not on talking terms with him, ever since you had decided you wanted to get married to a Birmingham gangster– he was on his deathbed and he deserved to be given all the love he could from all of his family, at least when he was breathing his last, all past forgotten. You were already dressed and your tiny bag was already packed with a fresh set of clothes because you were only going to go for a day and be back tomorrow, the first train in the morning.

You let out a weak sigh when you saw Mary enter the dining room and clear her throat faintly.

"Mrs Shelby, I have packed your bag for you, is there anything else I can do? I can take the baby if you wish to?"

You shook your head at her, giving her a polite smile and sensing your reluctance, she gave you a brief curtsy and walked out. You finally stood up and carefully, placed your sleeping child in his father's arms, not failing to notice the way he beamed when he was holding his son.

"Tommy, love, make sure to lock the windows of his nursery at night."

"I know, and I will make sure I check his nappies otherwise he might develop a rash." He chuckled playfully, still looking down at the beautiful baby boy you two had created, together.

"Don't tease me." You muttered dryly, almost rolling your eyes at him as you leaned forward and gave your husband a soft kiss. "And please Tommy–" You pulled away, licking your lips, tasting the aftermath of Tommy's lips on you, "– Can you please not come home late tonight? For once, the work can be stalled. I don't want all the work to land on your poor aunt's shoulders. I'm already embarassed as it is. What the fuck must she be thinking? That's not even her child."

"Come on now, stop overthinking things, you know Pol loves the lad like her own."

That she did.

Daniel, ever since he was born, eleven months back, was the light of Polly's life – more so because she had never thought she would see the human side of Tommy Shelby. It awed her that day when she saw tears stream down her nephew's eyes when he heard his cries from the room upstairs for the first time.

"Well, I think I should stop stalling now." You sighed and finally took a step away, forcing yourself to look away. The more you would look at the angel in his arms, the more you will weaken in your resolve.

"I love you both." You whispered as you finally walked down the front steps of the Arrowe House towards the motorcar that was waiting at the doorstep to drop you to the station.

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

"What do you mean you have to leave? Come on, Pol, you can't fucking do this to me, not today. I have a potential business partner coming in to meet me at the Garrison in two hours."

Tommy shot a helpless Polly a glare of his own, his uncontrollable pacing all over the living room not coming to a halt, his hands fixed to his hips. No, this couldn't be happening to him, he had fuckin' worked hard to get this potential client to meet him for this business meeting.

"Tommy, I'm sorry, Esme needs me. She's in pain, what the fuck do you want me to do?" Polly snapped.

"Ask her to call for a fucking doctor maybe?"

"Fuck off, Thomas Shelby. You should cancel this business meeting that you have and for once, stay home and look after your own spawn." Polly spat out the words, flinching instantly at the harshness of her own words because that is now how she had meant to take out her anger.

"Fine, get out."

Polly shook her head at the stubbornness of his nephew. When was he going to learn?

"Thomas, you have to stop with this attitude. You're a father now –"

"Aren't you getting late now? I thought John's wife needed you." Tommy cut Polly off, his fingers toying with the box of cigarettes as he pulled one out and flicked it to his lips, his fingers now shuffling through his pocket to pull out the matchbox.

"You will never learn."

Shaking her head at her nephew, she grabbed her purse, swinging it over hurriedly over her shoulder, rushing out through the front door. The door slammed shut and the sound of Tommy's match lighting echoed through the air, smoke coiling around him as he stood like a stone statue in the living room, staring into the air, smoking.

It was just a business meeting, he thought to himself, and that too at the Garrison. He could always take Daniel along with him, also, the presence of a baby might even melt the old woman's heart and she might even get distracted enough to agree in doing business with him.

"Mary?" Tommy's voice rang through the halls and the housekeeper dropped the dusting she was doing at the voice of her employer and rushed out.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby?"

"Can you get Daniel ready and make sure he's dressed warm enough? I'm taking the baby out."

"Sure, Mr. Shelby." Mary kept standing there, watching Thomas leave the living room, his heavy footsteps moving away, towards his study. She frowned slightly as she made her way to the baby's nursery. Once Daniel was dressed up in something warm, she filled up his baby bag with a bottle of milk, some cloth nappies and a rattle that the baby loved playing with.

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Tommy was leaning by the doorframe, watching Mary as she zipped up the baby bag.

"Mr. Shelby, I'm sorry to ask but do you want me to come with you, to help with the baby since the Missus is not home?"

The idea appealed to Tommy. It would have been a lie to say he didn't require help with the baby. Had Daniel's nanny been here, he would have gladly accepted but he couldn't take Mary with him. For two reasons. One, he needed someone to take care of the house. Two, and the more important reason, he didn't need unwanted ears prying over his business deal. Besides, Daniel was a good baby, all he needed was to be fed once and then he fell asleep. Or, he would just play on with the rattle if he was awake.

"No thank you, Mary. You may go and resume your work."

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

If anyone was to see this hilarious sight, any gangster or any of Thomas Shelby's enemy, he would have rolled over the floor, laughing. It wasn't a daily sight that the leader of the Peaky Blinders walked into the Garrison with a stroller, the mindless babbles of a child echoing all through the quiet pub, all eyes on him. If he did feel embarassed, or flustered, he didn't show it.

The minute he entered, he pushed the stroller straight into the private room, the door banging shut. The business deal took over an hour and once done, the door opened once again and a woman with almost greying hair, her eyes like a Mohawk, stepped out, scanning the crowd with her eyes.

With the way Tommy's eyes were relaxed, his hand moving mechanically from his lips back down, a lit cigarette in his hand, it was pretty clear that the business deal had gone in his favour. He walked out with the woman to where her horse was, watching her as she left, galloping down the street like the wind, until she was nowhere in sight.

Maybe it was the stress that work actually caused him, because what followed after was something Tommy would regret for a long time.

Tommy Shelby forgot about his son and instead of going back to the private room to get the sleeping child, he mumbled something incoherent under his breath and walked out of the Garrison, smoking his cigarette. He slid into the motorcar, taking off his cap for a split second to run his hands through his matted hair, before fixing the cap back on. Turning the engine on, he slowly pulled the car onto the road and started driving back towards the Arrowe House, his baby completely forgotten.

It had been three hours since you had reached London. You had already met your father, having had a good one hour discussion with him. You were now sitting at your old home, the place where you had grown up, staring blankly at the ceiling. Your heart was getting restless, you had no idea what was going on back home and whether Tommy and Daniel were doing okay.

Finally, you stood up and huffing in frustration, you grabbed your bag, swinging it over your shoulder and rushed out of the room, running into your mother.

"Where on earth are you off to, lassie?"

"I'm going back home."

You bit your lip, your fingers toying nervously with each other. You were waiting for your mother to begin lecturing you on how you had visiting after years and now you were just going to leave but the words that exited her mouth left you in awe.

"T's okay love, I'm your mother too. I know what it feels like being miles away from your flesh and blood."

Thus, by the time Thomas Shelby was done with the business meeting at the Garrison and was driving back home, you had already stepped off the train at the Birmingham station. You pitched a ride with one of your friend's husbands who you knew worked at the station. It was a fifteen minute ride and he dropped you off at the gate.

Excited, you walked at a fast pace, towards the front door when you saw Mary dusting over a ceramic statue by the entrance. She saw you and almost gasped, not having expected for you to show up after the dark the same day you had left.

"Mrs. Shelby? Is everything alright? I thought you weren't going to back until tomorrow noon."

"I know, I know Mary, I just couldn't rest easy without Daniel. You know it's the first time I went somewhere without him–" Still talking to her, you stepped quietly into your home, the woman following you as she helped you take off your heavy coat.

"I suppose Polly must be inside eh? The house is so quiet." You looked at Mary, squinting your eyes with slight confusion.

"Mrs. Shelby, Ms. Gray had to leave early today. She had some work." Mary lowered her eyes for a split second and your eyes almost widened.

"Oh, I see. Thomas must be upstairs then? With Daniel?"

"About that, Mrs–"

You saw the woman look up at you with nervous eyes, her fingers toying with her white apron and you instantly knew something was wrong.

"Mary? Where is my husband? Is he with another woman? Oh my god, there's another woman up there, isn't it–"

You were already on your heels, storming through the hallway towards the bedrooms, the pleas of Mary falling on deaf ears.

"Mrs. Shelby, No. There's no woman. Mr. Shelby isn't home. He had a business deal to make so he took the baby along."

You stopped walking, your eyes narrowed as you turned towards her. You were furious, more so because you had thought you would find Tommy in bed with some other woman, but this revelation did not do anything to pacify you.

You clenched your eyes shut to calm yourself– it was alright, wasn't it? Of course Tommy would not have taken the baby with him if he was going somewhere that wasn't safe. You trusted your husband that much.

You had almost relaxed now and were climbing up the stairs on your way to your room when you heard the motorcar come to a halt. Tommy stepped out, shutting the door, his steps slow and dragged towards the front entrance. He placed the hand on the doorknob, twisting it until he heard a click and the door swung open.

He took of his coat, hanging it on the coat hanger by the entrance and was about to head straight to his study where he could sit and get some files sorted. You quietly made your way back downstairs only to come face to face with your husband on his way to the study. His eyes widened with surprise as he had not expected to see you.

"Love? You are back early."

You smiled softly, placing your hand on the railing as you gracefully stepped off the last stair and rushed into your husband's embrace.

"It's all fine, Papa isn't angry anymore. You tell me, where's Daniel?" You had by now wrapped your hands around his neck, but your eyes were scanning for the stroller.

It suddenly hit him.

Fuck.

Tommy's hand flew to his head, abruptly pushing you away in the act, his cap falling off, his hand grabbing a hold of his matted hair, almost tugging down on them. You kept looking at him, a horror sweeping over your face when you suddenly realized that Daniel was not with him.

"Where is my baby?!! Where's Daniel Tommy?!!"

It felt as though you didn't know who this man was – standing in front of you, his head almost hung low, his eyes clenched shut. Before you could ask him again, he had already turned on his tail and was speed walking towards the car.

"Thomas Shelby, wait! Will you fucking tell me what's going on?!" You ran along with him, trying to do anything you could to get him to answer you, grabbing his arm or blocking his way until he finally yelled at you.

"I FUCKING LEFT DANIEL AT THE GARRISON ALRIGHT? FOR FUCKS SAKE, WILL YOU MOVE OUT OF MY BLOODY WAY?"

Of course, he had left his baby at the Garrison. What kind of a father was he? You kept standing there, too numb to even react, almost leaning over the hedgerow, your eyes moist and cloudy with worry. What if something happened to Daniel? What would you do? How will you face Thomas Shelby without hating him for it? For fucks sake, you shouldn't have left. You shouldn't have gone to London. You cursed yourself.

Twenty minutes.

You kept walking around the lawn, waiting for a glimpse of your baby, to hear him babble mindlessly in your ears again when you saw the headlights of the car almost flash on your face before coming to a halt with a screech. Your husband stepped out, holding Daniel in his arm, talking to him.

"Will you forgive your daddy, love? Will you forgive me for being the bad, reckless father I have been?"

You walked up to him, your anger still pretty evident on your face and giving you one look, Tommy handed you the baby, not wanting to get into an argument he knew he couldn't win this time. You took Daniel and planted a kiss over his cheek, your tears finally spilling out.

"Mummy's sorry she left you, love. I never should have left. I should have known–" Your angry eyes shot towards your husband and he parted his lips, letting out a weak exhale.

"Love, I'm sorry, I–"

"You can sleep in any other room tonight, but you are not welcome in the bedroom. Not until you realize how you put our son in danger." You turned on your tail and cooing slightly to your son who was now playing with loose strands of your hair, tugging at them and giggling playfully, you walked into your bedroom and closed the door behind you, laying Daniel in Tommy's side of the bed.

Tommy wasn't a bad father, he had never let you feel that away ever but you didn't want him to do anything like this ever again and you knew you had to make sure he didn't. You were eventually going to forgive him, but that day wasn't today.

(I don't have a permanent tag list at the moment but I'm thinking of having one. If you want to be added, please send me message or an ask please.)

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders #tommy shelby

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rachelsteapot · 3 years

Note

Hi! 👋😁

Ok, could I please request oneshot with Thomas Shelby and his son Shelby reader (16) where his son gets really badly hurt because he was defending his friends? (maybe from rascists, harassers or homophobic people).

And one readers friend brings him home with cloth over his mouth and it’s soaked in so much blood. Someone pinned him (reader) down, beated him and cutted his cheek (his teeth are visible and the wound is so big it can’t be sewd up together) + they broke his arm (in his view left arm...does it even matter). He won’t die tho.

Please hit me with soft and worried Thomas and other Shelbys and Grays with his son (for once than female or daughter reader). Thank you so much if you write it.

I hope it's not too much. 😙

Love you, have a nice day/night. ❤❤❤

Sticks and Stones: Tommy Shelby x Son!Reader

Hi! Sorry that this has taken a while, I got a bit stuck on what to write. I’ve tried to stick as close as I could to this request but its not exactly what you asked. I hope you still like it though, I definitely enjoyed writing it.

Warnings: Homophobic language, gore?

Pairing: Platonic Tommy Shelby x Son!Reader

Tommy’s children grew up knowing they were Shelbys. The last name in itself was a title, like their father’s OBE, but different. It wasn't awarded, it wasn’t a gift: it was a curse.

In the sixteen years since Tommy’s wife had given birth to his second son, Y/N, Shelby Company Limited had shifted its sights from the underground world that it used to inhabit, partaking in new, legal, business ventures. While the employees knew this, however, the general public still heard the name Shelby and conjured images of criminals. So, when Y/N began joining his father’s world, he became determined to change the public view of the Shelby family, regardless of the cost.

It wasn’t unusual to find Y/N Shelby in a public booth at The Garrison, surrounded by a group of his friends. It was even less unusual to hear their rowdy tales and playful banter, especially as they were the youngest in the pub by quite a few years. Young people, especially young Blinders, like to make themselves heard, and generally don’t care who hears it. And just like any young Blinder, Y/N was no exception.

“One time- one time I swear I saw Uncle Arthur send a granddad flying because he was bad bad mouthing our John!” the boys screeched with laughter as Y/N slurred his way through a tale taller than the stack of bottles behind the bar, slamming his mug down on the table to punctuate his story. Tales like these were common, and fairly widely known.

“If it aint the Shelby fags, huh?” The insult cut through their joy like a knife, shattering the imaginary worlds that the teenagers had created. Y/N turned his head to find the source of this jab, discovering a sweaty, overweight patron. He scrunched his nose in disgust and turned back to his friends. This man must just be drunk, he thought, attempting to dismiss the sick feeling that was slowly growing in his stomach.

“Oi, look at me when i’m talking to you.” Y/N felt a hand grip his shoulder. He glanced across the table before exploding from his chair, sending it clattering to the ground. The young Shelby spun around and wrapped his fingers around his assailant’s collar, throwing him back against a pillar. Fire blazed in his eyes as the youngest Shelby leant forwards, his breathing throwing hot air onto the older man’s face.

“Don’t. call us. fucking. Fags.” each word was punctuated by Y/N sucking air between his gritted teeth. He slowly removed his fingers from the other man’s collar and, giving him one final shove, he returned to his chair. Silence had fallen on the pub; it was time for Y/N and his friends to leave.

The doors of the Garrison clanged shut behind Y/N as he pressed his flat cap onto his head, and shoved his hands into his pockets. Anyone would have thought he was the famed Tommy Shelby, if it wasn’t for the lack of gently smoking cigarette hanging from his lips. He and his friends left the pub and slowly began their walk home, continuing their rowdy guffaws and occasionally getting into playful fistfights. Eventually, as the lads continued on their way, their numbers dwindled until it was just Y/N and his closest friend, Colin.

“Mate, are you alright?” Colin’s question roused Y/N from his thoughts. He blinked and raised his head, looking across towards his friend as they walked in unison along the shaded streets.

“Yeah, just a fucking twat. I don’t get why he just didn’t back off, yanno.” Colin nodded, sighing slightly.

“My cousin, his dad was like that.” Colin started, “A drunk, constantly trollid an’ all that.”

Y/N nodded, blowing steam from his nose into the cold night air.

“I dunno mate, I’ve got a bad feeling about it is all,”

The pair continued on their way, footsteps echoing along the empty Birmingham cobbles, hardly speaking and instead enjoying a comfortable silence. Colin and Y/N had been friends for as long as they could remember, having done almost everything together since they were in nappies. They thought nothing of it when a third set of footsteps joined them, or the fourth, or perhaps they just didn’t notice. Until it was too late.

As Y/N and Colin turned the corner towards Y/N’s Small Heath residence, they were confronted by two larger men. Turning to check behind them, Y/N and Colin found that they were boxed in with two larger men behind them too. Suddenly, Colin felt the cold steel of a knife against his throat as he was pulled back against the third man, and released a strangled cry.

“What the fuck do you want?” Y/N hissed, darting his eyes towards his friend to check he wasn’t being hurt, catching sight of Coling struggling against the trunk like arms of his attacker.

“Fucking Shelby and his faggot friend,” the man which Y/N assessed to be the ringleader of this excursion snorted. “We want The Garrison and the Blinder territory. You’re all posh bitches now, no need for gang land,” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh sarcastically, setting his jaw and glaring at the assailants.

“I dunno why you’re asking me,” Y/n rolled his eyes, scuffing the dirt with the toe of his boot. “It’s me dad you wanna be talking with, but I doubt your chances will be good when he hears about this.” But Y/N was caught off guard when one of the thugs stepped forwards and grabbed his jaw with one hand, twisting his head and pulling the young Shelby’s back against his stomach. Now, both him and Colin were held prone, completely defenceless against anything these thugs would attempt.

“We tried that,” the supposed ring leader chimed in. “It seems that we were going to need a little more of a bargaining chip.” As Y/N struggled, the final thug stepped forwards and grunted at his companions.

“Hold Him.”

Y/N felt his aggressors’ arms tighten around him, pressing down on his throat and causing spots to form in his vision. He didn’t notice the fourth thug swiftly and deftly draw a knife from his pocket, all he felt was a flash of cold followed by a searing pain across his cheek. Warm fluid spilled from the heat and Y/N felt the cold air flood into his mouth. He screamed as the realisation hit: these people meant business if they were going to cut the Shelby heir.

“We would take your tongue, but that’s for next time, if you don’t comply.” The threat didn’t feel empty, causing Y/N to clamp his mouth shut, ignoring the pain caused by the action.

Suddenly, Y/N was thrown to the ground, his head colliding heavily against the hard cobbles causing the world to tilt on its axis. He groaned, his ears ringing as he attempted to stand before his body contorted under the kicks of steel capped boots. As three pairs of feet pummeled his young body, Y/N felt his ribs crack and snap, crying out in pain until it was all he could do to keep breathing. When he fell silent, the kicks stopped.

“I reckon that’ll be enough of a lesson for Tommy Shelby, OBE,” one jeered as the four stomped off into the night.

It could have been minutes or hours before Y/N felt a hand on his shoulder, gently rolling him onto his back. The movement sent bolts of pain through Y/N’s ribcage and he coughed, globs of black blood landing on the pavement.

“Y/N? Oh my fucking god, Tommy’s gonna kill me.” Colin… thank god he was okay.

“Don’t worry lad, we’ve just gotta get him home.” Uncle Arthur? What the fuck was Uncle Arthur doing here?

Y/n pried his eyes open, grunting in pain as he was lifted from the ground and cloaked in the smell of his uncle. His head spun as Arthur’s rocking walk sent shockwaves through his bruising limbs. A door opened, then shut, and finally, Y/N felt a hard surface meet his back. He heaved a ragged breath as his body relaxed, and drifted into a pained sleep.

In his dream, Y/N Shelby was jousting. He was riding a beautiful dapple stallion, charging at full pelt towards an opponent, clothed only in black cloth. As he got closer, Y/N lowered his pole and leant forwards, and missed. His opponent’s pole connected with his face, and then he was falling, off of his horse and into an abyss. His arms flailed as he tried to catch onto something, anything, that would save him. But nothing was there.

When Y/N awoke, the sky was grey. Not a grey like the horse in his dream, but grey like a storm, like the storm his father would bring on Birmingham when he found out about the incident. The teenager sniffed slightly and tried to shuffle into a seated position, but his attempts were interrupted by a sudden churning in his stomach. Forcing himself to move, Y/N leaned over the side of the bed and emptied his stomach of the minimal contents that remained. His retches caused movement in a darkened corner of his room, but Y/N was too exhausted to notice, all his aches and pains flooding over his slowly awakening limbs. Slowly, tears began to roll down his cheeks as the pain overwhelmed his mind, and the young Shelby succumbed to the pain and exhaustion.

“Shhh, don’t worry, Daddy’s here now. Nobody’s going to hurt you.” a warm hand was placed on his lower back, drawing Y/N back into the present. Wincing as he tried to move, Y/N was able to twist his head until he could see his father seated on the bed beside him. Gently, Tommy moved his hands until he was supporting his son’s weight and slowly eased him into a seated position.

“Dad?” Y/N croaked, wincing with the pain of his ribs and limbs, his words slurred by the stiffness in his cheek. Tommy turned his head, facing away from his son. He raised a hand to his face, pressing his fingers into his eyes, only moving when Y/N reached his arm forwards and rested his hand on his father’s shoulder.

“Dad, ‘m okay.” Tommy sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“It’s not about that, Y/N. It’s that it happened at all, that I couldn’t protect you. Your name put you at risk and I couldn’t live with myself if I lost you too.” Y/N blinked slowly, letting his father’s frustrations wash over him.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” Tommy shuffled into the space beside his son, spreading one arm over the teenager’s shoulder and pulling him close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut and he relaxed onto his father’s chest, breathing in the smell of whiskey and cigarettes that had enveloped his childhood. He was safe, and nobody was going to hurt him. Slowly, the youngest Shelby drifted into a dreamless sleep, determined that next time, he would not be so unprepared.

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footballfanfictions · 3 years

Text

The thrill of the chase - Chapter One

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Warnings: None for now but you know me, I like a little smut here and there...

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

"If I have to edit and upload one more post about golden boy, I'm going to scream" I groaned, rubbing my temples. It's not even 10am on Monday morning and I already want to quit my job.

Brianna is sat on a chair, flipping through a magazine opposite my desk, and although her job doesn't require her to be in an office, she spends most of her time here.

"At least your job involves more than just washing and folding sweaty socks with your dad." She mused.

I rolled my eyes at her. She didn't quite get how annoying it is to be a graphic designer and social media manager that is only given the same images to work with over and over. My eyes flick back to my computer screen and the grinning Male on it. He isn't completely unattractive but him being a footballer and what all the praise he has been getting lately must be doing to his ego was enough to put me off. I would go as far as to say I disliked the guy.

"So if you don't like Mason, who do you watch from this window?" Bri was suddenly up on her feet and standing at my office window. It was floor to ceiling and had a good view of the training complex and sliding door access. The office had used to belong to Jose Mourinho both times he had been the manager here, shunning the actual managers office for one where he could see the pitches clearer. The first team trained about 5ft from where she was standing and if one of them were to look up from their drills they would see her staring out at them.

I pulled her away from the window by her arm.

"I don't sit here looking out of the window all the time, I have a job to do"

Occasionally, if I was on a particularly boring phone call I would let my eyes wander over to the window just to see what they were up to, but never watched any one player in particular. I didn't even know who some of the new faces were.

"Personally I think all the ones around our age are really hot -" Bri then started listing the names off and it sounded like she named the entire 23 man squad by the time she was finished.

We were then interrupted by a knock on my office door and Bri's father Dave stuck his head round it and said "sorry to interrupt girls but Bri and I have some kits to organise." He looked more amused than angry, being pretty used to his daughter avoiding her duties by now. "You wouldn't mind bringing us two of those fancy coffees of yours would you Katie?" He asked.

One of the other perks of having Jose's old office was the coffee machine. He had it installed and compared to the muck that came out of the cafeteria's coffee machines, it produced gold.

"Will do." I replied as Bri scurried over to her father and out of the door.

I decided coffee delivery was a good way to get out of having to stare at all the social media channels for a few minutes.

Once the coffees were made I tipped them from the plastic cups into two mugs from the cupboard beneath the machine, it felt nicer to take them to my friend and her dad that way.

It was tricky negotiating opening my office door with each hand occupied by a steaming hot mug, but I managed to nudge it open with a combination of my elbow and the heel of my shoe. I was just praising myself internally for getting the door open when something knocked into the side of me, tipping the contents of the mug into my right hand over whatever it had been.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry."

I looked up from the hallway carpet which I was worried was stained with coffee, into the smiling face of someone wearing a training kit.

"No that was me, shit sorry. Have I just poured boiling hot coffee all over the star striker or something? Marina will kill me." I put both of the mugs down on the floor and ran back into my office, coming back out a few seconds later with a wad of tissues. I tried to dab the stain on his top with the tissues but they were pretty useless and he knew it too because he put his hand over mine to stop me.

"Don't worry about it love, I'm not star striker, I'm just the left back."

He didn’t seem mad about having coffee thrown all over him. Being a footballer I was half expecting him to throw a fit and go all ‘do you know who I am?’. But he didn’t. Instead, he gave me the nicest smile.

“Please let me get you another training shirt at least? I was just heading to the kit room with the coffees.” I balled up the wad of tissues and put them in the bin in the hallway just to the side of us and picked the mug that I hadn’t dropped back up. Brianna would have to go without and it served her right really for avoiding her job for most of the morning.

“Alright then.” He agreed. “Lead the way, I haven’t been here long, so not sure where to go if I’m honest.”

“Oh right yeah, of course.” I pretended like I knew who he was and that he had only just signed, unsure of whether he could actually tell that I had no idea. He probably did know that as I asked if he was the star striker, when in fact he’s a left back.

He followed me silently down the corridor to the kit room. I knocked once before entering.

“Is that you Katie?” Dave called from inside.

“No, it’s Starbucks” I laughed.

He opened the door, a pair of socks slung over his shoulder.

“Cheers love, come in.” He said.

I looked back at the footballer behind me and gestured for him to follow.

“I had a bit of an accident on the way here Dave and ended up pouring Brianna’s all over…” I was about to ask his name when Dave cut me off.

“Ben Chilwell! I was so chuffed that you’d signed. It’s about time we got an English core to this team back. God Katie did do a number on your shirt didn’t she?” he laughed, clapping Ben on the back, before he went over to a stack of the blue and white training tops.

Ben. Yeah he looked like a Ben. Undeniably he was quite handsome. I saw Brianna out of the corner of my eye, she was sat gawping at him with her mouth half open.

I tried to gesture to Brianna that she needed to put her tongue back in her mouth. She seemed to get the hit and straightened the way she was sat, playing it cool. I tried not to laugh.

Dave passed Ben a fresh shirt, and I got a whiff of the freshly laundered scent as it passed in front of me.

“Thank you so much.” Ben said, accepting the new shirt gratefully. “I’ll try my best to watch where I’m going in the future.”

He gave us all a smile and apologetically said that he needed to get back to training before he left the kit room.

“Blimey!” Brianna sighed once he was gone.

“What?” I asked.

“Sorry that you have to hear this dad, but bloody hell he was fit. I’m disappointed that he didn’t want to change here.” we both started laughing and Dave shook his head, muttering a ‘you two’ under his breath before going back to matching the socks up.

“I’m going to go too, do you want to get lunch later Bri?” I asked, hoping that she would want to walk to the shops with me. I needed a few things and I wouldn’t have much time after work to go.

“Only if we’re getting it here because I want to be in the canteen when they all come in from training.” she was gazing toward the tiny window in the kit room dreamily as she spoke.

I rolled my eyes but agreed.

I spent the walk back to my office wondering if Ben Chilwell actually was as fit as Brianna was making him out to be.

Sitting back down at my desk, I logged back into my computer. I had new emails sat in the inbox. One of them happened to be pictures of the new players for me to edit. I had an edit of every player in the team that I had ready for match days. On a match day I would be in charge of adding time stamps for any goals and then uploading the goal scorer’s picture. Recently, more often than not I had been having to upload the same few pictures of Mason Mount and it was getting a bit boring. The fans loved it though, he was our most retweeted player and often I would read the social media comments, all singing his praises. Especially the young women.

———————————————————————————————————

By the time it got to lunchtime I was sick of photoshop. My program wasn’t running very smoothly, probably in need of an update and I had grown more and more frustrated as the morning went on, having to restart it twice.

Brianna came to my office just before 1 and waited for me to finish off my last edit and lock my computer.

“Good morning?” she asked. “Because no offence you look mega stressed and we don’t need that kind of vibe if we are going to be around fit footballers for the next hour.”

I wanted to eye roll for the millionth time but I cut her some slack. She had recently had a really bad break up and her ex had been a proper bellend. Unfortunately for Bri, she didn’t have the greatest amount of luck when it came to guys. Her ex had broken up with her for another girl and had then continued to hook up with Bri, who had stupidly let him until I had convinced her what a bad idea that was. She was clearly feeling really lonely.

“Someone will come along you know, it doesn’t have to be a footballer.” I said, putting my hand on her arm and squeezing reassuringly.

“But Liam supports Chelsea, so how mad would he be if I got off with one of his favourite players? He’d be begging me to take him back then.” she smirked.

“That’s not what you want though right? To get back with him I mean.” I opened the door and we started to walk down the hallway towards the canteen while we chatted.

“No, I just want him to feel the sting of rejection and know how it feels for once.” she shrugged.

When we reached the door to the canteen there was a young lad with mousey brown hair kind of hanging around. His face lit up at the sight of us and I was slightly taken aback by it.

“After you.” He said, opening the door for us. He had a really strong Scottish accent that I hadn’t heard before. I guessed he must be part of the youth team. He’d probably end up out on loan after loan and we’d never see him again.

“That was strange.” I mumbled to Bri.

She shrugged, walking over to the back of the queue to get food. I followed her and grabbed a tray for myself.

I reached into the chilled drinks cabinet and picked out an iced coffee placing it on my tray.

“Glad to see that isn’t a hot coffee!”

Turning my head to the side, I saw that it was Ben again, standing behind me in the queue and then just behind him, my favourite person of all, Mason Mount.

“Yeah I’m on a final warning about spilling hot drinks over footballers so I’m only allowed cold coffees from now on”. I joked.

“I’m sure Benj will keep you warm in the winter.” Mason piped up.

I tried not to curse under my breath that he was butting into our conversation.

“Mate.” Ben said to Mason, shaking his head.

“What? she is fitter than you said.” Mason bantered back, looking at me rather than Ben.

“Thanks but I don’t need validation from you.” I bantered back, before moving along to the next chiller and picking out a caesar salad and an apple.

I heard the word “feisty” from behind me, but couldn’t tell which one of them had said it as I caught Brianna up in the queue.

She gave me a puzzled look and I shrugged, simply mouthing the word ‘boys’.

As employees we didn’t have to pay for any of our food which was a nice perk of the job and saved me a lot of money in eating out and packed lunches.

We took our food over to one of the tables that we usually sat at whenever we used the canteen and we were joined as usual by some of the other members of support staff.

Brianna was filling them in on my mishap with the coffee that morning while I scrolled through twitter on my phone. I liked to check how our social media platforms looked from the perspective fo the intended audience.

“You’re such a workaholic” Bri scolded me.

I looked up and apologised, tucking my phone away into my pocket.

“You two are polar opposites” Jane, one of the physios said. “I do agree with Brianna to an extent about some of the new faces. If I were a few years younger…”

Jane was a bit like our work mother. She was in her mid 50s and happily married with two teenage boys of her own to contend with. Because she had never had any daughters, she took particular care of me and Bri and loved to join in with our girl talk.

“I don’t think it would be worth the hassle personally” I shrugged.

Jane grinned. “You’re so sensible Katie, and probably right. Young men with too much fame and money probably don’t make the best partners. I tried to say that about my Martin too, back in the day. He was in the army and you know what they say about them!”

We both looked at her waiting for her to give us the answer.

“You know, a girl in every base town.” she laughed. “I tamed him though. Maybe don’t write them off completely.”

I wasn’t sure that I wanted to attempt to find a partner at all. I had been single since things that fallen apart with my ex when we both left uni. At uni we had a lot more time for each other, despite the different schedules and studying. When I had started working for Chelsea I put everything that I had into my job, desperately wanting to make a good impression. Hundreds of people had applied for the position and I wanted to make them feel like they had made the right choice in hiring me. So long days in the office turned into long days and evenings in the office, especially when Chelsea had late kick offs. I just found it easier to be in my office with the radio commentary on, sending out the tweets as the goals went in.

“Katie, are you listening? You zoned out a bit again.” Jane said, waving her hand in front of my face.

“Sorry just thinking about my to do list” I mumbled, trying not to admit to them that I had been thinking about Rory again. Sometimes it isn’t the person that you miss, just the feeling of having someone.

“I was just making you aware that are three young men constantly looking over here.” she said, trying to keep her voice low.

I was curious so I looked, there were a few of them sat at the furthest table, but none of them were looking in our direction.

“Who?” I asked.

“Oh I don’t know the names, I just deal with the injuries.” she shrugged.

“Well that’s helpful then” Bri said, pouting. “I wanted to know which ones fancied me so that I could target my flirting.”

———————————————————————————————————

Ben

“Go and talk to her.” Mason encouraged me.

I shook my head, trying to focus on eating my food, although I hadn’t really been able to. I had just been using my fork to move it around my plate aimlessly.

“No.” I mumbled. “I barely even know the girl. She spilt her coffee on me then got me another training shirt.”

“Oh yeah.” Mason smirked. “Did she help you put it on too?”

“She got you a new training shirt?” It was Billy that spoke now. He looked really nervous and was pretty much doing the same as me, forking his food around rather than actually eating it.

“Yeah from that room with all the kits in” I responded.

“Oh.” he said quietly, looking down.

I caught on then. Billy had been ahead of us coming off the training pitch and I had seen him wait and then open the door for the girls with a big grin on his face. I had thought he was just being polite, but I now realised it was more than that. He had waited on purpose and obviously liked one of them.

“It was the brunette one. The little blonde was in the room too but it wasn’t here that me and Mase were talking about” as I explained I watched Billy brighten back up again. It was the other one that he fancied, not Katie, and for some reason I was relieved.

Mason caught on then too.

“Hang on, do you like that one or something? The kit man’s daughter?” Mason asked him.

He had raised his voice a bit in excitement so I gestured for him to speak quieter.

“Yeah only for the last few years, you know.” Billy responded, blushing a bit.

Mason would probably take the piss out of him for the rest of the afternoon and god forbid if Tammy or Jorginho found out, poor Billy would absolutely never hear the end of it.

“Have you ever tried to tell her?” I asked him.

“Only once, but I chickened out because I heard she had a fella” he shrugged.

“When was that?” I pressed.

“Couple of years ago, but then I kept being sent out on loan so couldnae’ really have asked her out any way” he sighed and put his fork down at the side of his plate.

I decided then that I was going to make it my mission to get Billy to ask that girl out. The worst she could say was no and he wouldn’t be any worse off than he was now. I could even use it to my advantage and casually speak to Katie about the two of them.

I looked over at her table again, she looked a little sad.

I had promised myself that I would focus on my career for a bit and not get involved with any girls for a bit, but here I was on day bloody one simping over a girl I’d only just met. I cursed myself for it.

#ben chilwell #mason mount #football fanfiction #football fanfic #billy gilmour

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

Text

Skyline Manor by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 12/13

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 12: Surprise

Emma felt the world around her disappear the moment Killian’s fingers threaded into her hair, his lips hot against her mouth as his tongue slid across her tongue. Emma couldn’t stop the groan that left her mouth when his hand trailed down her back, resting on her hip as he pulled her closer against him.

It was everything she had dreamt about and nothing she was prepared for. She had kissed him twice before, and he had returned her want with his own desire, but this was different. This was desperate yet deliberate and everything that terrified her.

“Swan.” He groaned. Her mouth brushed against his jaw.

“Don’t ruin it.” She nipped at his neck, her breath hot against his skin.

“We need to talk about this.” He moaned as her teeth grazed his ear.

“Do we really?” Her mouth was on his again, and he returned her attack with fever. “Can’t we just enjoy the moment for once?” She mumbled against his lips.

“What if the lad returns?” Her mouth continued its attack, as he tried to speak, her lips grazing his neck. His fingers were on either side of her neck as he pulled away. “Emma.” The look on his face was serious and she pouted as she sat back, dreading his next words. “I can’t give you what you need.”

“It seems like you have exactly what I need, or do you really not know what I need?” She mewed.

He narrowed his eyes. “From this vantage point, I think I have an idea, but I’m talking about long term. I told you I can’t…”

“You can’t have a relationship because you made a promise to your brother while drunk off your ass, a promise that you made out of some sense of guilt because a woman chose to stand on lies rather than be brave enough to stand up for the love that was given to her willingly.”

“Emma, a dalliance with me will only bring you pain and sorrow.”

“Or something worth breaking a promise for.” She said softly, her fingers ghosting across his chest, leaning forward to kiss him once more.

“Emma…” His voice was a plea, she was uncertain if it was in protest or mercy. And then his hand snaked in her hair, pulling her closer to him, his mouth hot against her jaw.

Mercy it is.

She clung to him as if her life depended on his next breath, she inhaled his scent, her body reacting to his every movement and touch. She was terrified of the way he made her feel, but even more frightened of him walking away. She could feel his hand under her shirt, hot against her flesh.

“Killian.” She breathed. “We are on a rooftop.” She said with a timid laugh, as he withdrew his hand from her shirt.

“So we are, love.”

She placed both of her hands on either side of his face. “What are we doing?”

“I believe they call it making out, Swan.”

~*~

“Do you think it’s been enough time?” Henry asked impatiently as he sat on the other side of the door to the rooftop.

“I haven’t heard any yelling, perhaps your plan has worked, lad.” Will replied.

“I’m gonna let them out.” Henry stood, turning the lock on the door, and prying it open slowly. As he peered through the opening he saw his mother and Killian sitting next to each other talking. They turned toward him, standing from their spot.

“Henry.”

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, tentatively stepping toward them.

“Of course, not lad. Your mother and I had a pleasant talk.”

“You did?”

“Yes, but Henry, you have to stop doing the things you’ve been doing, faking being sick, locking us on the rooftop.” His shoulders slumped. “Killian and I are friends.”

“Just friends?” He said with a pout.

“Look I know things have been difficult lately and confusing with what happened between me and Graham.”

“That wasn’t confusing, you didn’t belong with Graham. You just needed to realize it first.”

“Henry…” His mother started as Killian knelt in front of him, brushing his bangs from his forehead.

“Lad, I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I promise you that. You and I will continue to be friends, Smee would miss your visits, as would I.” Killian spoke to the boy, and he simply smiled.

“But you two belong together.” He whined and Will stepped up behind him.

“You and I will talk about your assistance in this later.” His mother warned Will.

“Come on Henry, let’s go get ready for bed.” Will said, leading Henry down the stairs. With each step, Henry tried to ignore the pain in his heart as he was taken back to his apartment in defeat.

~*~

The moment the boy was gone, Killian pulled Emma against his chest. “Are you sure this is the right way to do this?”

“You saw him, he’s so invested in what will happen between us. Can you promise him that things are going to work out?”

He frowned; he didn’t know what was going to happen between them. But when she asked him to take it one day at a time, to hell with the titles or commitments, just see where things took them, he couldn’t tell her no. Yet he couldn’t be certain that he would get any further than he had with Belle.

It would pain him to hurt the boy if things didn’t work out with his mother. So instead, they agreed to take it slow, privately. “You’re right, I just hate lying to the boy.”

“I know, and we won’t keep it from him forever, we just, we need to figure out what this is first. Just you and me, without everyone else’s interference. Besides, he’s been hurt enough.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, “Then I look forward to figuring things out.” He mused.

~*~

Captain Jones sat at a table in the corner of the tavern, sipping liquid from his stein. Each time the door opened, he peered toward the lit opening at each new inhabitant that entered the tavern. He didn’t dare wish to see the woman with the golden hair, yet he was disappointed each time she wasn’t there. He sighed, slamming his mug down on the table and prepared himself to return to the Jolly.

“Leaving without saying goodbye, Jones?” He turned quickly to face the hooded figure seated at the table next to him, the back of their green clock slipping slightly as the woman leaned back tipping her stein of beer into her mouth.

He looked around the tavern before walking to her table, dropping into the seat in front of her. “Venturing out of the castle unescorted again, Princess?” He chided.

She smiled and her sea green eyes danced with a playful glare. “And I thought we made a connection.” She continued. “Yet I had to hear about your departure from my son.”

“I shall send my condolences to the Duke; I hear he is without a wife.” He said playfully.

“It was never my intention to marry the Duke.”

“Dare I say I am shocked, M’lady.”

She sighed before continuing the conversation. “What awaits you in Arendelle? A dragon? A quest? Perhaps a lover?” She asked softly, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips.

“I fear I have an ailment. I have been bewitched; dare I say cursed.”

“What malady has befallen you, Captain?”

“There is a woman, so beautiful and alluring, yet she is not mine to have, and I fear that in the absence of this woman, no other being can satisfy my needs in her stead.”

“Surely, a man such as yourself, there must be a way for you to have this woman?”

“I fear that is not possible, her station makes her unavailable to me.”

“Perhaps she is not interested in her station, perhaps all the pomp and circumstance are of no interest to her. What then?”

The Captain’s smirk grew on his face. “She would be leaving a life of privilege for one of simple means. A bed, some wooden planks, and a sunset are all that a man such as myself have to offer a woman.”

“That all sounds very lovely.” She smiled. “But that is not all you have to offer this woman, is it?”

“Adventure, unexpected surprises, perhaps the love of a man who would desire and care for her like no other in his life.”

The Princess shook her head. “You speak freely of love, yet you did not intend to say goodbye.”

He smiled. “I had hopes that I would not need to.”

The Princess shared a nod of understanding, she knew what this would mean for her. “What of my son?” She spoke softly.

“We spoke this morning; he has asked to join my crew.”

Her head snapped up, “He did what?”

“Aye, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I would welcome a man like Henry aboard my ship, someone I could trust. But I also would not allow it without his mother’s consent.” The Princess seemed lost in her thoughts, so he continued. “Perhaps if his mother were to join him, for his safety of course, it would make her decision easier.”

“And what would we tell him of my presence?”

“That I offered you both adventure, and you were bound to seek it.”

“My brother will never permit it.”

“Are you not Princess Emma of Bostonia?”

“You know that I am.” She laughed.

“Then I do not think your brother would dare keep you from doing anything that pleased you.”

She smiled, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Then we should tell Henry at once.”

“I think that shall be an easy task.” The Captain gestured to the corner of the tavern, a man sitting alone in the corner booth.

He stood and the Princess rushed to his side. “Henry, what are you doing here?”

“I am my mother’s son.” He looked between his mother and the Captain. “When does our adventure begin?” He asked with a grin.

~*~

The next few months has been a blur for Emma. She and Killian spent many stolen moments sneaking around, spending time together, avoiding being caught by her son. Even with it all being new there was something particularly exciting about stealing kisses or shared glances that no one else could see.

In the evening, Killian would join them for dinner, Henry would tell them stories about his day, talking nonstop as if he had known Killian his entire life. Emma would watch the two of them after dinner, joysticks in hand as they fought whatever nonsense was on the screen and she knew with each new memory they created she was falling in love with the man.

During the day, Killian would show up at the diner, a flower in hand as they sat and enjoyed their lunch. Sometimes they spent hours just talking about nothing and everything.

“One day I want to go on a trip to nowhere.” She said with a laugh.

“How does one go on a trip to nowhere?”

“Haven’t you ever just wanted to take your bike and head out on the farthest road and drive until you decide to stop? No destination in mind.”

“So, you’re just with me for my bike.” He teased.

“I have had dreams about that bike.”

“Have you now, Swan? Do tell!”

“Maybe when Henry goes to Neal’s this weekend, I’ll show you.” She winked. Emma felt giddy with excitement, this would be the first time they would be alone without Henry.

“I have it on good authority that Belle and William are going to the movies on Saturday.” Killian’s hand rested on her knee under the table.

“Is that so? I believe Ruby told me she has a date.”

“Then we are truly on our own.” His eyes were boring into her, his pupils dark, a slight twitch of his lip that had her heart pounding.

“What ever shall we do?” She smirked.

His hand traveled up her thigh, warmth spreading through her as she watched his Adam’s apple bob at his throat, he swallowed, his eyes trailing up her body until they met hers. “I’m sure we can come up with something.”

~*~

Killian went in search of Henry’s book; he was sure he left it at his apartment the last time they came to dinner, but Killian had been unable to find the book the night before he was to go to his fathers. After an evening of searching his room, the book had still not been found.

And so Killian found himself crawling on his living room floor, his dog bouncing around him, his tongue hot against his ear. “Ok boy, I get it, I love you too.” Craning his neck, he peered under the couch, his phone shining a light in his hand.

“There you are!” He reached under the legs, dragging the book out from under the couch.

Henry would be pleased to have his book with him during his visit with Neal. Killian hated that the boy had seemed so downhearted about his visit. Neal had once again taken a trip out of town the past three months, and Killian had spent that time distracting the boy from the disappointment his father continued to present.

As he stepped into the hall, book in hand, he saw the man exit the elevator. He gritted his teeth as he made his way back to the apartment, stopping in front of the door. “Neal.” He said curtly.

“Must be my lucky day.” He mumbled under his breath, staring at him as he waited for someone to offer him access to Emma’s apartment. “Can I help you with something, Keith?”

“It’s Killian.” He corrected. “Did you have a good trip to… where was it that you went this time?”

“I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” The man complained.

Killian narrowed his eyes. “That boy may appear to be happy living in his own fairytale world.” He paused before raising his brow. “Did you know that he creates his own stories, I suspect about the people in his life.”

“He does a lot of strange stuff.”

He took a step toward the man. “He does what he must in order to be alright with the disappointment he continues to be afforded. One must ask though, do you want to be the hero in his tale, or continue to be the villain?”

“I’m his father, do you really think he’d make me the villain?”

“That depends on your actions. Perhaps you should spend more time being interested in the strange stuff you think he does, and less time using him to advance your love life.”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you have no right talking to me like this.”

“I earned that right when I spent my time wiping his tears, mending his cuts, listening to him talk about his hopes and concerns, and regardless of my feelings toward your parenting skills, the boy truly loves his father. So, it is my hope that you rise to his expectations instead of meeting my assumptions.”

The door opened behind him, and Henry came bounding out the door. “You found it.” He said with glee, grabbing the book from Killian’s hands.

“Aye, it was under the couch.” He glanced toward Neal before stepping into the apartment. “Did you get the Blu-ray you wanted to share with Neal?”

“Oh yeah.” He said excitedly. “Mom bought me the next season of Once Upon a Time, can we watch it?”

“It’s a good tale, Neal. Even villains earn their happy endings in this one.” Killian said with a knowing wink.

Emma came from the back room, staring at the three of them at the door. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were here Neal.” She turned toward Killian, “I can’t find the book…” Looking at Henry, she laughed. “Let me guess, under the couch.”

“Aye.”

“Alright well, he has everything he needs, he was having allergy fits yesterday, but I gave him his medicine, so hopefully he won’t be too sleepy tonight.” She handed Henry’s backpack to Neal.

“I’ve done this before, Ems, I think I can handle a weekend.”

“I know but it’s been a few months.” Neal started to respond when Killian cleared his throat.

“Have a grand time at your dad’s. I’m sure you’re excited to tell him all about your field trip last week.” Killian tried to give the boy ideas of things to talk about with his dad, they had visited the Natural History Museum and Killian had chaperoned. Henry had confided in him that he was nervous about his visit with Neal as he hadn’t seen him in so long, yet he was afraid they would have nothing to talk about.

“Oh yeah, just wait til you hear what Killian said at the Museum.”

“I’m sure that’s not what he meant, Henry, you should get going, I’d imagine your dad has plans for the two of you.” Emma laughed, pushing him out the door with Neal.

“I’ll have him back Sunday night.” Neal said, glancing back at Emma, his glare landing on Killian.

“Have fun, lad.” He offered before Emma shut the door behind them.

“I hate sending him away with him.” She groaned as the door clicked shut.

“I know, love. Perhaps one of these times Neal will surprise us and actually step up his duties with the boy.”

She snorted. “You’ve met him right?”

“People can change.” He said softly, running his hand through her hair. Her eyes flashed with golden flecks in the green hue of her pupils. He knew he had changed, lately something inside of him felt different. His time spent with Emma and the boy had opened him up to things he hadn’t known were possible.

A feeling of belonging.

“Come love, I have dinner ready to start on the stove.” Emma slipped on her house shoes and followed him back to his apartment. She wrapped herself in a blanket and curled into the couch, Smee resting on her legs as she flipped through the pages of one of the books Henry had left during their Star Wars marathon weeks previously.

Killian stirred the sauce on the stove, a feeling of contentment settling over him. He had done this for Belle previously, made dinner, entertained her in his home, but this felt different. This felt comfortable, as if a piece of a puzzle he had long lost finally clicked into place.

As they laughed over dinner, her eyes shining in the candlelight, he felt the words he wanted to say on the tip of his tongue. He had felt them long before tonight but didn’t dare breathe them into existence. The memories created with Emma and Henry were more than just moments of time that filled the day. They had become his life, his reason for every decision he made.

When he got off work, he often would pick up something from the store that Emma had mentioned needing or that Henry had spoken fondly of. When he had a day off, his first thoughts were where he could spend it with them. He rarely thought of himself on his own, each memory included them.

“Emma, love, I…” There was a knock on the door, pulling him out of the moment. “Sorry, I have no idea who could be here at this hour.” He stood from the table and opened his front door.

“Brother.” Liam said with a smile. “Surprise.”

“Liam, what brings you to Boston?”

“I had business in town, thought I could stop by and check in on my little brother.”

Killian rolled his eyes. “I’m hardly little anymore.”

“Are you going to let me in or are we going to continue this argument in the hall?”

Killian bit his lip and opened the door, letting Liam into the house. When Liam noticed the lack of lights and candles lining the room he paused. “Am I interrupting my brother in his element?”

Killian laughed and Emma appeared in the archway. “Oh, hello.”

Liam’s brow rose, “Hello there.”

“Liam this is…”

“Emma, right? We met a few months back in the hall.”

Killian paused, glancing at Emma until she caught his eye. “Aye, but I haven’t introduced her properly.” He stepped toward her, his arm trailing along her back. “Emma, this is Liam, my brother.” He turned to stare at her, her smile shining brightly. “Liam, this is Emma…” He paused. “My girlfriend.”

#skyline manor #stacy's fics #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan #captain swan modern au

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ashyblondwaves · 3 years

Note

Snippet idea:

Vision coming home from a mission and nobody greeting him at the front door which is weird.

He listens and hears crying from his and Wanda’s bedroom.

When he walks in, both twins are having a meltdown and Wanda is trying to calm them both down so they can go to bed but the hormones are making it so she’s about to throw a tantrum right along with them.

She’s tired, her back hurts, she’s off balance and at the mercy of her changing body/ emotions that can change at the drop of a hat.

When Vision comes in he helps Wanda wrangle the boys into their pjs and big boy beds and he holds her while her frustration bubbles over.

They get reacquainted in the tub once the boys are asleep.

Thank you for sending this! It just struck a chord with me so here we are jumping right back into the Outnumbered universe! I made the boys a bit younger, I hope that's ok and I hope you enjoy <3

Outnumbered: Are You Scared?

The room was dark and quiet save for the soft hum and flicker of The Dick Van Dyke show on the television.

Wanda lay on her side, Vision behind her with a supportive hand on her growing belly. A soft laugh escaped Wanda's lips, keeping it low so she wouldn't wake one of the twins, but her body jiggled with the full power of her amusement. As the episode ended, Wanda grabbed for the remote in front of her and cut the power on the TV. She turned, wrapping her arms around Vision's neck the best she could with the space her belly put between them.

"Are you scared?" Wanda whispered.

"Of what, my love?" Vision asked, reaching a hand out to brush his thumb across the apple of Wanda's cheek.

"To have a third baby," Wanda explained, leaning into Vision's hand. "What if she's colicky like the twins were?"

"We'll tackle that if we need to, darling," Vision assured her.

"What if you're not home again?" Wanda asked, bringing the thought of some of Wanda's hardest days as a new mom to the front of Vision's memories.

***

The door flew open a bag dropping to the floor as Vision stepped over the threshold and immediately changed from his human form when the door closed behind him.

"Wanda?" Vision called out, not seeing her or the boys anywhere on the first floor. Normally, Wanda was opening the door for him and pulling him inside, but this time it was eerily quiet downstairs.

His mind immediately cycled through disastrous scenarios that could have happened. One of the boys was sick and she rushed them to the hospital and didn't have time to call. Wanda herself was sick and unable to call. Why hadn't she called if she something was wrong?

Then he heard it. The shrill cries of his 8 week old sons coming from upstairs. Their bedroom. Wanda had to be in there with the boys.

"Wanda?!" Vision yelled out, speeding up the stairs three at a time as he descended upon their bedroom. Something had to be wrong for her to not even realize he was home.

Not bothering with the doorknob, Vision phased through the closed bedroom door to find Wanda sat in the middle of their bed. She was still in her lounge clothes, her hair up in a messier than usual top knot at the crown of her head. Her eyes were red from crying as she stared down on her screaming sons.

"Wanda...." Vision said tenderly, causing her to look up.

"Vis," Wanda's voice cracked with emotion at the sight of him. "They won't stop." Tears spilled over as she picked up Tommy and held him close, cradling the back of his head as she bounced him gently.

Vision acted quickly, pulling Tommy from Wanda's arms and plucking Billy from where he lay screaming on the bed. With a boy in each arm, he looked down at Wanda's disheveled form.

"I'm so sorry, darling," he said, voice laced with sympathy. "I will handle these two tonight. Please just take a little time for yourself and I'll be in when I've calmed them down."

Through tears, Wanda nodded, sniffling as she moved to get up from the bed. Her exhaustion was clear as she stood, slumping like she just didn't have it in her to even walk.

"I'm going to take a bath," she croaked out. "Please come make sure I didn't fall asleep in there."

"Yes, dear," Vision said, looking down at the screaming squirming bundles of joy in his arms. "Let's take this to your room, lads."

A change of scenery didn't calm the boys but Vision was determined to do this for Wanda after being gone for almost a week on a mission with The Avengers. Everything went fine except for the fact that Vision was torn away from his wife and newborn sons for so long. Seeing them screaming in their cribs caused guilt to run through his system. He'd never been needed two places at once before and he wasn't quite sure how to handle it. But at that moment, it didn't matter. The boys needed calming and he was going to be the one to do it.

"How about a fresh diaper and pajamas, boys?" Vision asked, his voice mostly muted by the screaming infants. He nodded to himself. "Right then."

He gathered his materials quickly. Two pairs of pajamas from the dresser, two fresh diapers, wipes, powder and two brand new pacifiers. Tommy was first and Vision slowed himself down to make sure he had the time to bond with his young son.

"What appears to be the trouble, Thomas?" Vision asked, gently setting the crying boy on the changing table as he looked up at his father with big crocodile tears spilling from his eyes. Vision carefully slipped the baby's arms from his outfit. "Now I know your mum has done everything she could for you. Why the tears?"

Tommy looked up at Vision, his cries beginning to cease as a hiccup jolted his body. He stuck his bottom lip out in a pout, looking as though he were about to start screaming again but instead he let out a sigh before another hiccup hit.

"That's right," Vision said proudly, fastening the fresh diaper to itself. "Nothing to cry about with a mum like yours." He finished by snapping the small buttons at the front of the baby's onesie pajamas and offering the pacifier to him. Tommy took it, suckling on it furiously as more hiccups made his small body jump.

As Vision set Tommy back in his crib, he set his sights on Billy, still crying furiously in his own crib.

"Round two," Vision said, picking up the other boy. "Let's freshen you up and have a little chat, shall we?"

He repeated the motions with Billy, arms and legs lightly pulled from clothing that was covered in tears and drool a fresh diaper to replace the slightly wet one Billy was in and then the pajamas.

"Billy," Vision said, tending to his son. "Look at your brother there, quiet as a church mouse now. Can you do that too?"

The boy seemed to be listening to Vision, eyes trained on his father's flesh and vibranium face. And the crying slowed to a whine.

"That's it," Vision soothed, offering the second pacifier to Billy. He took it eagerly and quieted completely. "Let's calm down now, boys."

With two mostly silent infants fresh and ready for bed, Vision took Tommy from his crib and brought both boys to the rocking chair in the corner of the room. He sat with a boy cradled in each arm. Since he was unable to grab a book his systems pulled one up and he read the words in front of his eyes.

"Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin," Vision read, feeling the tense infants relaxing in his arms.

As Vision read, he looked down at his boys periodically, now calm and asleep and looking as though they'd never cry for a single minute let alone for hours on end. Vision decided to finish the first chapter of the book before setting the boys in their cribs, just to be sure they'd calmed for the night.

"He nodded and went out, and in a moment I heard Winnie-The-Pooh--bump--bump--bump--going up the stairs behind him."

Vision closed the book his system had pulled up and looked down at his boys again, fast asleep. He stood up carefully and moved to the cribs, setting each boy down in his own space.

"Goodnight, boys," Vision said, finally exiting the room and walking down the now quiet hallway and straight into his and Wanda's bedroom, then into their bathroom. There he found Wanda soaking in the tub, her old clothes shed in a heap on the floor, steam rising from the water.

"Wanda?" Vision asked, making sure she wasn't asleep. "I've gotten the boys to sleep."

"Thank you," Wanda replied gratefully, her voice still cracking. "Join me?"

Vision didn't have to be asked twice to join his naked wife in the tub. He quickly phased out of his clothes and slipped in behind her, pulling her back against his chest.

"I've missed you," Vision said, pressing a kiss to Wanda's neck. "I'm so sorry you've had to do this alone."

"I missed you too," Wanda said, her voice still not quite right. She was crying again.

"What's wrong, my love?"

"How bad of a mother must I be that I can't calm my own sons?" Wanda asked, "Yet you calmed them in just a few minutes."

"I don't think I calmed them," Vision said honestly, holding Wanda close. "I think they just finally tired themselves out."

Wanda sighed and dropped her head to the side, giving Vision perfect access to her neck. He peppered kisses to the area, feeling her body relax against his with each kiss.

"You're not a bad mother," Vision said firmly, pressing a final kiss to the top of Wanda's head. "I won't hear of it."

"But nothing I did worked--"

"Shhh," Vision cooed, "They're colicky. It has nothing to do with your skills as a mother. This will pass. I promise you, it will pass."

"I'm so glad you're home," Wanda murmured.

***

"Are you scared, Wanda?"

"I'm scared of doing this without you," Wanda confessed, pulling Vision in for a quick kiss. "What if I have do this without you?"

"You'll never have to worry about that," Vision assured her. "It's always only temporary. I will come back. Always."

"How can you make that promise?" Wanda asked, voice almost in a panic. "What we do could get either one of us killed at any time without warning."

"We can't think like that, darling," Vision said, running a hand down Wanda's arm. "We have to trust that the other will always come home safely."

"Well I can't do that," Wanda snapped, pulling away to look Vision in the eyes. "And I don't think you can, either."

Vision looked away and he knew it would tell Wanda all she needed to know about his fears of losing her or having her lose him.

"I can't," Vision finally confessed, pulling Wanda back into his arms. "But we can't dwell, darling. We have to stay present. For Tommy. For Billy," he set a hand on Wanda's belly. "And for Big Bird."

Wanda laughed, music to Vision's ears.

"We aren't calling her that after she's born," Wanda said firmly, finally changing the subject.

"Of course not," Vision agreed. "But for now we can."

"For now," Wanda replied, closing her tired eyes. "Goodnight, Vis."

"Goodnight, my love."

#Anonymous #reply #asks #scarletvision #scarletvision fic #wanda x vision #wanda maximoff #vision #tommy maximoff #bill maximoff #wandavision #wandavision fic #outnumbered au #outnumbered au drabble

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mrsfrecklesmarauders · 3 years

Text

James Potter Supremacy

“James Potter is a bully toe rag. He was a bad person”

“Peter followed him around like a puppy. James treated him like shit, that’s why Peter betrayed him”

James yawned laying back on the chair. He couldn’t study anymore. He was done.

“Alright, Wormy. We need to sleep a bit to be bright and fresh tomorrow”

James looked at Peter. He seemed pale, tired, stressed nearly about to cry.

“Go ahead, James. I’m gonna stay for a little while”

“Mate, you need to rest. We’ve been in The Library all the bloody afternoon”

Peter shook his head, staring at his book.

“Come on, I’m pretty sure Pads and Moony are done shagging by now” he laughed a bit at his own joke.

But Peter didn’t laugh.

“That’s my point” Peter sniffed “We’ve been here the whole bloody afternoon and nothing seems get into my brain….” Peter was pulling his hair “I’m so stupid”

“You’re not stupid”

“I’m probably gonna fail. You guys are gonna get tops marks in everything and I might have to repeat the whole year again”

“Hey, hey…” James said facing his friend “Don’t discourage yourself Pete. You’re very intelligent”

Peter snorted.

“Yeah you are” James said “You’ve done incredible pranks with us…”

“None of them were my ideas…”

“What about the time we changed gravity in The Great Hall?”

“Moony’s idea”

“You turned into you know what, for Moony’s you know what furry little problem”

James turned around to see if someone was around, luckily no.

“I had your help”

Shit. Peter was so negative and down. James knew perfectly well that to cheer Pete up, they had to preach him, tell him he was doing things right. James tried to do that all the time. But there were times when Peter just didn’t believe him. That nothing could make him cheerful again.

“Okay” James said opening his own book “Page one hundred and forty what was it?”

“Forty-two”

James opened the page.

“Conjuration. Let me guide you up” James said

“I thought you were tired…”

“I’m gonna revise again, this test is gonna be difficult you’re right”

It would be easy piecey. Minnie usually asked a few questions and then they were supposed to write a little essay on the topic of their choice.

“But…”

“I made this helpful summary, I’m gonna read it. You should write this down”

Peter looked at James, then he smiled.

“You’re an imbecile”

“Don’t need to insult me Wormy, I’m bloody studying…”

“You…”

“Shh”

And James began reading. He didn’t have a summary but he tried to explain the subject as easy as possible.

Peter nodded and scribbled things on his parchment.

After a few hours. James pretended to study again. Actually, he was reading the same line over and over again. He already knew this stuff. And he was so bloody tired. But Peter seemed to be concentrating more, he muttered things to himself as he wrote them down. James smiled.

I knew you could do it, Pete.

Finally, both boys were kicked out if The Library by Madame Pince.

As they headed back to The Gryffindor Tower. Peter seemed to be relaxed. Cheeks flustered and a little smirk on his face.

James’ heart warmed up.

“Wow, thank you Pete. I needed that revision. I had so many things wrong”

He didn’t want Peter to think he had made James stay with him for nothing.

“Cheers James. You’re a good friend”

James smiled as he rubbed his friend’s hair.

“Come on, I deserve a kiss”

“What?”

“Just a little peek on the cheek, come one” James joked as he pointed to his cheek.

“No way”

“You said I was a good friend”

“Keep dreaming…” Pete rolled his eyes and walked away.

“Oi! Pettigrew! Just give in to my sweet face and give me a kiss”

“Shut up Potter” Peter laughed

“You shut up” James laughed as well

“Remus just stands James for what he did for him. But James was a bully. Remus should’ve stopped being friends with someone like that”

“Where’s Sirius?”

Remus asked as James approached him after Charms.

“With another girl” James rolled his eyes.

Moony’s face went down adopting a sad expression. It had happened before, when James mentioned Sirius’ girlfriends. James knew something was happening. James was no stupid. He knew his boys pretty well.

“And Pete?”

“Chess club”

Remus just nodded.

“It’s just you and me handsome” James winked.

Remus smiled a little.

“Why are you so gloomy to spend an evening with me? Am I that horrible?”

“Yes, James. You’re a nightmare” Remus said smiling

“Oi!”

“As long as you don’t talk about Quidditch, or Lily…”

“Bloody tosser”

James and Remus had dinner together.

“Did you notice how pretty Evans looks?”

James couldn’t avoid noticing her hair was longer, with soft curls all over it. Pretty.

“Why did I say about the Lily talk?”

“Fucking twat”

Remus laughed as he chewed.

James noticed he looked kind of sick and pale.

“Do you want my chocolate tart?” he asked “I think I’m full”

Remus beamed at that “Yes, please”

James smiled as he passed him the dessert.

Good Moony, eat up. You look miserable.

Sirius entered The Great Hall. His hair was a mess and his shirt slightly opened. Cheeks kind of red. Fucking wanker.

“Hello lads” he sat down serving himself some Pumpkin juice.

“I’m guessing you already ate, Padfoot” James commented

Sirius smirked.

James noticed Remus flinched beside him. He looked pissed.

“I have to say it, Ravenclaws might be studious and all, but they definitely know what they are doing” he winked.

James hated when Sirius behaved like this. He was an imbecile, playing to be cool and a fuckboy.

“You’re a wanker”

Sirius laughed.

“I’m glad you had fun, Padfoot” Remus said sarcastically.

“Don’t worry, Moony. I’m all yours now…”

“You know what? I was fine without you. Enjoying my tart, and you needed to come and ruin it”

“Lads…” James said

“Wow… Someone is not in a good mood. I thought the full moon wasn’t until next week…”

“FUCK YOU SIRIUS”

“Rem…”

“What am I doing? I just came here to share dinner with my friends, and you started insulting me”

“Then go! Bloody go with your new sweetheart or whatever…”

“Prongs…” Sirius complained

James raised his shoulders “I don’t know what’s going on…”

“You know what? I might go with Pru and have dinner with her…”

“I’m not stopping you!”

“You’re such a tosser Moony…”

“Thank you very much…”

“I can’t believe you’re on his side, James”

“I’m not in anybody’s side”

Sirius rolled his eyes and left furiously.

“Sirius…” James called after him.

But Sirius ignored him.

James raised an eyebrow to Remus.

“What was that all about?”

“I’m sick of him bragging about girls”

“Moony…”

“I’m not longer hungry” he stood up “I’m gonna go to the dorm”

“I’m coming with you”

As they were walking back, Remus stopped. And he leaned on the wall with pain.

“What is it Remus?”

“I’m fine.”

“Remus…”

“My hip hurts a bit”

“Let’s go The Hospital Wing”

“James, it’s nothing…”

“Don’t be stupid, Remus”

James hated when Remus didn’t take care of himself. He was clearly in pain, and he didn’t want to do anything about it.

“Remus…”

“Jus’ take me to the dorm, James”

James let Remus leaned on him as he placed his arm around him.

“This is ridiculous”

“Shut up, Lupin. You should be pleased you’re in this position with me. Anyone would kill to be on your shoes”

Remus laughed “Tosser”

James was smiling now. He loved making his friends happy.

“I’m still worried though”

“I’m okay…”

James didn’t insist. They got to their dorm and James helped Remus lay down in bed. James made Remus swallow a relaxing potion his mum had given him in case of any stress. Remus needed to sleep for a bit. Remus must’ve known what it was because he didn’t complain.

“Cheers”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to…”

“I’m fine, really” Remus smiled

“Moony…”

“Prongs…”

James sat down on Remus’ bed. He rubbed his friend’s hair gently.

“Sirius will stop seeing all those girls” he said “He’s gonna come back to us”

To you.

James saw Remus closing his eyes, the potion was taking effect now.

“You’re a good friend, Prongs” Remus said before drifting to sleep.

“James and Sirius were a pair of stupid boys who didn’t give a shit about anyone. Popular rich boys in a good position to bully others”

James waited for Sirius to come back. The letter he had received from his parents this morning must’ve been bad, because after that, Sirius disappeared all day. Remus seemed to be bloody worried, he had insisted on coming with James, but he didn’t let him. He had instructed Pete to take care of him. Remus needed to rest. The full moon had been the day before.

James considered having a smoke while he waited. But he thought better of it, he didn’t know how. And he didn’t want to go back and ask Remus for one.

Finally, James saw the figure of Sirius coming to the castle.

“Where were you?”

Sirius’ eyes looked puffed. He had been crying.

“Having a romantic moonlight walk by myself” Sirius laughed “You didn’t have to wait for me, Prongs”

Sirius wanted to walk by but James stopped him.

“Just stop with this, Pads”

“With what?”

“You can fool anyone in the world. Not me”

Sirius snorted “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

James was getting impatient.

“I’m very offended, Pads”

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think I ever did or said anything to make you believe that you have behave like this idiot fuckboy who doesn’t give a shit about anything or anyone…”

Sirius looked hurt “I…”

“Why are you behaving like this around me?”

“Prongs…”

“I KNOW YOU CARE, PADFOOT”

James didn’t mean to yell but he didn’t know what else to do. Sirius jumped.

“I know you care about your parents and it affects you whatever they say on those letters… I know you miss Regulus that you love him despite all….”

Sirius looked down.

“I know you don’t give a shit about any of those girls… You know? You’re hurting Moony…”

Sirius looked up at that. His eyes were glittery. He was biting his inner lip to avoid crying. James knew him too well.

“I didn’t mean to”

“Sirius you’re not made of stone. You’re allowed to feel”

Sirius shook his head.

“You…you don’t understand…”

“I do…”

“I have… I have expectations… Everyone is looking at me…”

“Fuck what they think…”

“I’m so…I’m so scared” Sirius had tears on his eyes.

“Pads… I’m your best friend. I don’t care if you break down…”

Sirius kept shaking his head.

“Sirius…” James said more softly “Come here…” he opened his arms.

“I…”

“Come here”

James hugged Sirius. His friend seemed to be tense between his arms.

“It’s okay to cry, Sirius. I’m not gonna judge”

“James…” Sirius whispered before bursting into tears.

“It’s okay Pads. I’m here” James whispered “I’m always gonna be here”

Sirius sobbed even more on his shoulder. Letting out everything he had been accumulating.

Later, as they approached the Portrait Hall, Sirius stopped James.

“Why would do without you James?”

James smiled.

“I honestly don’t bloody know. I take you ass out of the worst situations”

Sirius laughed.

“I do care about Moony” he said looking down, and kind of blushing? “I never intended to hurt him. He is one of my best friends…”

“But not your best friend, right? That’s me”

Sirius smiled “That’s you”

James smiled back “You should tell him then. Just fix things with Moony…”

Sirius nodded.

James entered the Common Room, climbing up to their dorm. Sirius followed. Before James opened the door, he turned to look at Sirius, he smiled and winked, letting him know everything was okay. And back to normal.

Then James opened the door.

“Hello boys…. Who fancies having his ass beaten by me in an Exploding Snap Game?”

“Lily should never have chosen James. He was a bully who molested her best friend and couldn’t take a no for an answer”

James didn’t particularly like Petunia. And he knew she hated him. And then it was Vernon, Petunia’s fiancé. James seemed to irritate Vernon with only his mere presence. He was eyeing at James with such furry and disgust, and he wasn’t even trying to be discreet. James felt uncomfortable.

Petunia was talking about their apparent perfect life. They had bought a new muggle car, that seemed to be a thrill for muggles. Vernon had been promoted on his job; James didn’t know what he did. He had explained but James didn’t seem to understand, it sounded boring. They were talking about the preparations for their upcoming wedding.

Lily seemed tensed. She had tried to comment and congratulate her sister. But that bitch shut her up. James was about to take his wand out and jink the shit out her. But he didn’t want to look like a mental on Lily’s house. And they were all muggles. James had to behave like a gentleman.

Lily’s hand moved nervously under the table. James took it on his own. Lily finally looked at him. James smiled. Lily smiled back grateful to have him here.

After dinner, James thanked Mr. and Mrs. Evans over and over again for the delicious dinner. Mr. Evans was nice. Mrs. Evans seemed to be a bit awkward around him. Lily had told him she acted like that around everyone magical.

The Evans started to be very busy with Petunia’s wedding. Her and her mother discussed about dresses and other stuff. They talked about decoration, food, music all that. As if James didn’t know some spells to prepare a ceremony in seconds. Poor muggles, James loved having magic.

Lily seemed sad, she felt out of place as she watched her family discuss those things.

“James, can we go somewhere else?” pleaded

“Of course”

James took Lily’s hand and dragged her to the kitchen. They needed to hide from the muggles to be able to apparate.

“Where do want to go?”

“Anywhere but here” Lily said with tears in her eyes.

James wiped them up gently, before apparating. James took Lily to The Potter’s beach house. It was the only place he could think of. It was his happy place. He had so many memories there. As soon as they got there, Lily began pacing.

She snorted

“They have the nerve… They just keep celebrating and being happy about Petunia and her wedding… And they don’t have any idea of what a horrible world we are living in”

James knew what she was talking about. The war. James and Lily had decided to join Dumbledore’s Order after graduation and fight.

“I have explained it to them… I really have. What I would do” Lily continued “And they just don’t understand. They don’t seem to care actually”

“Hey, Lils…”

“I mean until they don’t see something on the telly they won’t believe it, but there won’t be something on the telly… Fuck…”

“Lils…”

“And Petunia is now the golden girl because she is going to get married.... Since when getting married is better than giving up your life to fight for something good…”

“Lily…” James had reached her. He made her stop and look at him.

“And I’m doing this for them! James! I’m fighting for them!”

James smiled, stroking her hair.

“You need to yell”

“What?”

“You need to let it all out”

“I don’t…” Lily snorted

“Let me show you”

James took out his wand and performed a silent charm on the house.

“Now you can yell all you want without no one bothering you”

“I’m not gonna do that” Lily smiled

“Why not? You’re gonna feel better, trust me”

“James…” Lily bit her lip

“Like this… Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah”

James yelled. Lily laughed at him.

“Your turn”

Lily shook her head. She was smiling behind her sweater sleeve.

“Come on, babe. Trust me”

Lily took a deep breath before yelling.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

James laughed amused at his girlfriend.

“FUCK YOU PETUNIA!! FUCK YOU SNAPE!! FUCK EVERYONE!”

“FUCK EVERYONE!”

“FUCK EVERYOOOOONEEEEEE!!”

They both laughed. Then James pulled Lily towards him.

“Fuck everyone but you” she whispered now

James kissed her.

“I’m so in love with you Lily”

Lily smiled so beautifully that James’ heart jumped on his chest.

“How long that spell lasts?” she asked

“An hour or so, why?”

Lily blushed “Perfect. Let see if you make good silencing charms”

James’ face was on fire, he was sure he was bright red.

Lily laughed. And then she kissed him so fiercely, like she never had done before.

James heart was jumping on his chest. He was so in love with Lily that sometimes it scared him.

Lily began unbuttoning James’ shirt. He took it off.

Oh, bloody hell. He had had sex before but not with Lily. He was bloody nervous. What if fucked it up? James found himself breathing nervously and shaking for some reason.

Lily took off her sweater and dress. And she stood there only on her underwear. Lily smiled embarrassed.

“Oh shit…”

James sighed because he had no other words to say. But before he could say anything else, Lily kissed him again.

They laid on the nearest couch. James on top of her. He was still shaking, like a tosser. Why did this happen to him? He was supposed to be confident. But James was nervous, he really didn’t want to fuck it up.

Lily didn’t seem to notice. She seemed to confident and sexy, even though James knew it was her first time.

She smiled stroking James’ cheek. They stared into each other’s eyes.

“Are you sure about this, Lils?”

James was surprised on how shaken his voice sounded.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life” she said “I love you, James”

James was out of breath for a second.

“I love you too”

And James proceeded to kiss Lily’s lips, then Lily’s neck and breasts… He needed to warm up his body to avoid shaking.

“Oh James…” Lily sighed as he kissed her body.

This would be one of the most precious moments in James’ life. He was completely in love.

#harry potter #Marauders #maraudersera #James Potter #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #peter pettigrew #Lily Evans #jily #james potter supremacy #marauders fanfiction

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spideymarvelws · 4 years

Text

one true love.

Dark!Peter Parker x Dark!GN!Reader

Main Masterlist

Summary : Peter will go threw everything to keep you safe, protected and most importantly always his. He saw you as the person he observed and watched for the past few months, the sweet, kind girl that stopped to pet stray dogs or smiled at everyone who needed it. But somethings he never took notice of, some things that would’ve made him love you even more.

Warnings : THIS IS A DARK FIC! I am not responsible for your media consumption but if any of these topics or just dark fics on a whole trigger you please do not read! cursing, murders, blood, violence, mention of sexual assault, death, stalking, graphic description of a dead body, homicide, fluffy if you squint, use of guns and knifes.

A/n : If any description throughout the one shot does not pertain to a gender neutral reader please let me know :-) also if i missed anything in the warnings.

Word Count : 1.8k

...

The definition of love is something that never stays constant as its experienced from person to person. Even to that very being, the meaning changes every year, month, day even hour, from what that individual may feel in that moment. In some cases, it may be the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to someone, changing there life in ways they could never even imagine.

In other cases, it could break a person whole, bit by bit, tearing down at who they once were. Emotions like guilt and regret, jealously and remorse running through there veins, thinking that love is only made to destroy the ones foolish enough to believe it exists.

Then you have the rare case of love at first sight.

Now, some may argue that this concept that only seems to show up in movies and TV shows is complete bullshit, that it doesn’t exist.

“You can’t look at someone and automatically know they’re the one for you,” Ned said to him one day, pulling his head out of his chemistry book,“What if they’re an awful person? What if they do something constantly that you don’t like? Seriously, looking at someone and knowing there the one is just basing It of there’s looks or something,”

Peter didn’t respond, afraid that he might lash out at the only friend he’s managed to keep throughout the years. He thought about the last statement a lot, wondering if all he ever really felt was the physical attraction.

But no, that pull you feel when you look at someone for the fist time, watching there movements with whatever tasks they’re doing at the moment, even if it’s nothing at all. Falling entranced with there every gesture, taking in every curve and colour, memorising every feature.

It wasn’t just looking at their appearance, it was taking note of how they moved, how they acted, how they laughed, god there laugh is like music to your ears. It was watching and observing, that’s what Ned missed in his little speech.

Then of course you have the people who don’t believe in love, which was something he could understand.

Before he saw you.

For Peter, love was not a strong enough word to describe what he felt for his one true love. The way you made his heart stop with one smile, his face red with one touch, his hands sweat with one word. In your eyes, he found his entire world.

And he destined for you to be his.

The countess nights he spent dreaming of you, laying besides him. He longed to touch you, to feel your skin against his, to mark you with his love. He shocked himself with the self control he had to maintain around you especially when it came to the people you hung out with.

The amount of times he wanted to run out of hiding and crack the skull of some idiot who decided to talk to you or dare even look at you in any suggestive matter. The thought make him gag every time, but he’d like to think that you already knew that he was looking over you, that you belonged to him. That’s why you never took any of them on, that’s why you turned them down.

He couldn’t blame them for trying, but they had no chance since they would be gone the next day.

Which is why he hoped you could forgive him for what he did, for what he had to do.

The body laid in the back seat, wrapped tightly in a bag. There was no blood spilled, sadly, only the indents of his hands on the base of his neck.

It was fun, watching the life drain from his eyes as he listed off every bad thing he’s ever done, mainly to you, but he threw in a few more ex’s just to spice things up a bit more. Maybe he shouldn’t have killed him, maybe he should’ve just let him walk free with the threats he shoved down his throat.

But then he had to call you a bitch, from that point he knew his life would just be a waste of oxygen.

Peter let out a chuckle at the memory, at the fake confidence he showed, struggling in his hold. It truly was a sight to behold, one that made his realise why he enjoyed being Spiderman so much.

Seeing people suffer for there terrible mistakes and knowing that he had the power to punish them.

The drive was long and quiet, one of his hands was on top the steering wheel, tapping to an imaginary beat while the other settled on the arm rest. The streets were rather empty at this hour to Peter’s surprise, making him smirk that he would get away with the murder.

Maybe he could’ve stolen a better car.

But he was doing everyone a favour and he was keeping you safe.

He took a right into a dense forest, his car moving with with the bumps on the course road. When he felt like he was deep enough down the path, he hit the breaks, cringing at the squeaking noise it made.

Regardless, the exited the vehicle, opening the trunk to grab a shovel. He knew that there were a number of more efficient ways to get rid of the body, one that could’ve used his position in the avengers to his advantage, but his old techniques started to grow repetitive.

It didn’t take him as long as he thought though, the hole he dug was around eight feet deep and hopefully the right size to fit the body. Dropping the shovel to the floor, he walked back to the car not to worried about his surroundings knowing that no one ever visited this part of the forest.

He grabbed the body from the back seat, throwing it over his shoulder carrying it to the hole and tossing it inside without care. He smiled at the bag as he filled the hole a quarter of the way.

“Time to find an animal now shall we?” He whispered to himself, pulling out the hunters knife from the back of his pants along with a flash light, “Just incase,”

As he walked threw the trees and bushes, keeping look out for any movements he heard a gun shot cut threw the air. He gripped his knife, walking carefully towards the noise.

Oh how he was sorry for the poor lad that decided to be here this night, but he had too do what had to be done.

Suddenly he was sent back by a force jumping on his back. He fell to the floor with a thud, his body forcefully turned over with a gun pointed directly between his eyes.

“Y/n?” He froze, his breath becoming heavier at how close your face was to his. Now he understood why his spider senses didn’t alert him, because you weren’t a threat to him, you could never be.

“Peter,” you whispered, lowering your gun, scrambling off of his body much to his dismay, “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” He asked back, still shocked at you proximity to him, talking with him, breathing the same air as him.

“You answer first,” you said quickly.

“No you,” Peter said back, crossing his arms.

“I-,” you started, but looked down, trying to hide your bashfulness, but it only drew attention to the blood dripping from your hair.

“Baby,” Peter whispered, walking up to you to grab your face, any sense of self control left his body after seeing the state you were in, “What happened,”

Peter thought it was some attack on you and judging by the amount of blood covering your skin, you had to defend yourself. He expected you to look up with the innocent eyes he’s studied for so long, finally getting a chance to get a closer look.

But instead, you raised your head with a sinister smile gracing your feature, you stepped out of his embrace, taking his hand in yours.

“Let me show you,” you whispered, in an almost sultry voice sending shivers down his spine.

You pulled him to a tree, taking the flashlight held in his fingers and pointed the light to the base of the trunk. Peter stared confused at the sight, walking forward slightly to inspect the slumped body. It was tied down tightly with rope around the waist and mouth, cutting threw the skin deeply showing signs of struggle. There was multiple stab wounds in the stomach, words carved in there legs that he couldn’t make out with the dirt and blood covering them. He did however notice his name on her forehead and the bullet wound in the middle.

The streaks of blond in the hair falling in front of the face told him that this body belonged to Gwen Stacy.

“When she started talking to you I could see how uncomfortable she made you,” you started, looking to the floor while playing with the dirt with the sole of your shoe, “I- I didn’t like how close she got to you, and- and since she bothered you too I- I thought we were doing us both a favour,”

Peter stood back up, looking back at you. He wondered how somebody so insane could hide it so well. Even with the evidence painted over you, he still saw you as incapable of ever doing anything like this.

The thought made him laugh loudly, walking up to you and grabbing your face.

“I fucking love you,” he laughed more, making you smile brightly as he put his forehead against yours, “You’re perfect I swear,”

You laughed along with him, putting away your gun in your pack pocket, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’ve- I’ve so long for this,” you giggled, pressing your nose into his neck, basking in his sick scent, “But, what are you doing here?”

Peter giggled as well, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “Same reason at you my love,”

Your eyes widened, you placed your hand on his cheek, bringing his lips back into yours. It was longer and sloppier than the first, both of you getting use to the movements but also desperate for the feeling.

Peter backed you up against another tree, pressing his body against yours, his deluded mind not reregistering how fucked up the situation was, but he loved every second. His lips moved down to your neck, sucking and bitting at the skin, drawing out delicious moans from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you sputtered, biting your lip and tangling your fingers in his hair, both of you not paying mind to the blood, sweat and dirt, “I’ve- I’ve wanted this for so long Peter,”

“Me too baby,” he said, tightening his hold on your waist, “Me too, now how about we hide these bodies together hmm?” He tickled your sides lightly, grinning at the giggle you let out, “Then I’m gonna take you home and make up for lost time,”

...

--->Interested in more? check out my other Dark!Peter fic<---

Hearts, reblogs and comments always appreciated 🥰

Taglist: @jadegill @joyleenl @ietss

#peter parker #dark!peter parker #dark!peter #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x gn!reader #dark!peter parker x dark!reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #yandere!peter parker

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ghostlywritten · 3 years

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If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Three

James Potter x OC

Words: 3,1k

Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two

"What's going on between you and Potter these days?" Marlene asked as we sat at breakfast together.

"Nothing?" I asked back, not missing how Lily's eyes snapped towards me.

"It's not nothing," Marlene pressed, "You've been spending an awful lot of time together."

"So? Is it that weird that a boy wants to spend time with me?"

"Um, yes."

I gave her look at her blunt reply. "Well, it's true! You hardly ever have a boy paying so much attention to you. It's interesting." I tried to pretend that her words didn't sting. "Besides, it's Potter! He is in love with Lily."

"Well, it's not like we are being romantic in any way," I mumbled into my croissant (except for wishful thinking), "We are just friends."

"All of a sudden?"

"It just came about. What about it?" I said with an eyeroll.

"I'm just saying it's weird," Marlene muttered, "Not only has Potter started hanging around you all the time he has also stopped pursuing Lily. After all these years!" She leaned forward to whisper, "What if he is going to try asking you out from now on?" I almost choked on my coffee, coughing heavily.

"Honestly Marlene, your imagination is shocking sometimes," I said with a raspy voice. Marlene huffed, leaning back as she turned her attention back to her food, "Say what you want, I think my theory is not that off."

I just rolled my eyes. Lily stayed surprisingly quiet.

After dinner, I strolled through the halls with another bag of sweets ready in my hands as I thought over how to convince Madam Pomfrey with more than just repeatedly saying 'please'.

Knocking at the big wooden door, I opened to reveal the Hospital Wing surprisingly empty. "Wow, this must be the first time you don't have to tend to a student for once," I made myself known as I walked in leisurely, swinging the bag of sweets in my hands pointedly.

"Miss Grant, I do not have time for you. Please leave right now," Madam Pomfrey immediately cut off any attempt from my side.

"But you don't have any-"

"I'm really serious, Miss Grant," she said sternly, "I do not have the patience for your nonsense. Leave!"

I gave her an almost hurt – or rather scared – look when I noticed the curtains drawn around a bed in the far corner of the room. 'Huh, isn't so empty after all.' "Now!" I swiftly followed her orders.

Walking back towards the Common Room with a sullen glare at everyone passing by I was surprised to not see James waiting at the fireplace this time. I was even more surprised at the amount of disappointment I felt at the realisation. Sighing heavily, I plopped down on an armchair, deciding that I should wait for him for once, dropping the bag of sweets on the small table.

I stared at the fire for a long time, slowly curling myself into the soft leather as a yawn escaped me, thoughts mindlessly passing through my head and before I knew it, my eyes had drifted close.

I woke up to the feeling of something warm being draped over me, my lids fluttering back open after what felt like only a minute but was definitely longer according to the dimmed fireplace. I glanced around with drowsy eyes until a figure knelt down in front of me, revealing the one person I had been waiting for.

"Hey Grant," the messy-haired boy whispered gently.

"Hey James," I muttered back, snuggling further into the blanket, "What time is it?"

"Well past midnight," he replied, pushing a strand of hair back that had fallen over my face at my shuffling, "You drooled all over the leather."

"Did not," I denied, wiping the corner of my mouth and he chuckled quietly, "Where have you been anyway?"

"Just out and about with the lads. You know, causing trouble," he said with grin before his gaze softened, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I hadn't expected you to wait this long."

"I wouldn't have if I hadn't fallen asleep," I retorted and he smirked, "Sure." I blushed. I really would have left. At some point. For sure. Clearing my throat, I changed the topic, "Where are the others then? And what have you done this time?"

"Padfoot and Wormtail are already up…Moony, too," he added hastily and I briefly wondered why he seemed nervous when my gaze flickered over to the window.

The moon appeared from behind a cloud, a stark contrast to the black sky. It seemed to have been full last night and descending into the darkness once more; Before it would ascend into a full moon again next month...

The scales fell from my eyes. "…And for what we did, you will just have to wait and see…Grant?" James cut himself off when I sat up, wide awake.

"Of course," I whispered, finally understanding why Madam Pomfrey denied any internships since First Year.

It was because of Remus being a werewolf.

If I were to guess, I would say a lot of peeps in our year knew about it or at least suspected that something was off with the sandy-haired boy.

Oh, don't act so surprised, I'm not dumb. Even if I hadn't spent much time before with James or the rest of the Marauders before, we were in the same year for Merlin's sake! We had all the classes together and I had Quidditch practice with two members of the infamous group. You think it wouldn't be suspicious at some point how Remus kept getting sick every month like a lady having her period, looking like he got back from war each time like – I repeat – a lady having her period and the Marauders pampering him with chocolate the whole time?

Not to mention, how James would always give us one week off from any practice every month, which was more than out of his normal behaviour. It had brought up my suspicions in the first place around a year ago.

I confirmed it with one night in at the Hospital Wing during a full moon night, overhearing their conversation consisting of 'bad transformation' and 'Wolfsbane Potion'.

"What of course? Hello? Grant? I'm right in front of you and you are ignoring me?" James flicked my forehead.

"James," I exclaimed before I deflated slightly, wondering whether it would be a good idea to tell him I knew. He was deeply protective of his friends and hiding this kind of a secret for Remus must be huge for him.

"Yes?" he pressed, "What is it?"

"Eh…nothing," I said quickly, forcing out a huge and fake yawn, "I have to sleep. Good night!"

"Good night…," he called after me slowly as I raced upstairs, the blanket dropped on his head.

Now that I knew what held the school's matron back from taking anyone in I would surely get the internship if I told her I knew about Remus' secret already. I settled down in my bed with a giddy feeling that didn't have to do with James for once, finally having found a bright light in the dark tunnel.

My wide smile faded slightly though at the thought of the werewolf that was probably at the Hospital Wing right now. Would they ban him from school if they found out that I – and probably others – knew? I was sure, at least Lily would be aware of it being one of the smartest of our year. Not to mention she was a Prefect along with Remus.

I felt conflicted. Should I tell and risk him having to leave the school if Dumbledore deemed it too dangerous that too many knew? I could only imagine the amounts of owls flying into his office with Howler's of concerned parents voicing out their protests of a werewolf staying among their children if they were to find out, no matter how sweet of a person Remus was. I couldn't imagine the Headmaster would actually want to kick him out but I also doubted he would be able to fend off the many complaints in this case. Especially since he had kept it a secret for so many years.

Sighing heavily, I watched the bright light in the dark tunnel fade into nothingness.

The next morning came too soon and with it the pounding headache I woke up to. I refused to get out of bed for half an hour until Lily and Marlene all but dragged me off the bed with my blanket.

Trudging after the two chatting nuisances towards the Great Hall, I cheered up slightly at the prospect of food. But upon hearing the noise volume inside the big room, I wish I had just stayed in bed once again, feeling the loud clatter and talking painfully pierce into my temples. "Ughh," I growled, naturally settling down beside James as the girls sat on my other side, wary of my mood.

"What's up, Grant?" James greeted me cheerfully. I grumbled through the cinnamon roll in my mouth, "Hfsgr alfit ni dhahrt withd tjwis."

He nodded, placing a hand on my shoulder in understanding, "I'm sorry but what?"

I sighed, looking away from him only to face the sole reason I didn't manage to sleep last night, looking as bad as I felt. No, scratch that. He looked worse, a deep-set tiredness visible in his usual bright blue eyes.

"Oi. I don't bother her. My presence is a gift to her," James boasted, causing his and my friends to roll their eyes, "Right, Grant?"

Guilt swapped over me like a wave. Here I was, moody about not being able to appease my parents with an internship I wasn't even sure I wanted when Remus had probably been through a painful night... "Did James bother you again?" the sweet boy asked with quiet amusement, "Don't worry, you will get used to it." I felt ashamed at how he tried to cheer me up when it should be the other way around.

'Merlin, I would suck as a Healer. Better face that sooner than later.'

"Sure, you are the light of my life," I said indifferently, now feeling even worse than before as I looked at the chuckling boy in front of me. 'I really shouldn't complain.' Fishing out the reserved chocolate bar from my robes I handed it towards him as "prepayment for the notes of the upcoming classes".

The lessons came, saw, conquered and soon enough the sun began to set. I was going to do the routinely visit to Madam Pomfrey when I realised I wouldn't need to do that anymore. Sighing, I almost mourned the money I had spent on all the sweets for the matron and how much was still left for her. 'Meh, might as well end the tradition properly,' I thought to myself but decided to just leave the small bag at the door of the Hospital Wing, not bothering to bother her this time.

"You are back early," James announced my arrival loudly as I walked in through the portrait hole, interrupting his talk with Sirius at the fireplace, "How did it go this time?" he asked as he shooed his friend away. The black-haired heartthrob of the school muttered something under his breath before he left with a 'Night, Grant' accompanied with a cheesy smile.

"You didn't have to send him away," I pointed out as I plopped down next to him.

"It's fine, he was just pestering me," James said dismissively, "Has Pomfrey agreed this time?"

"No," I replied shortly, leaning back against the sofa.

"Don't worry, she will at some point."

"No, she won't...," I trailed off, looking away from his brown eyes, "I will stop asking."

"What? Why?" James asked surprised.

I shrugged, "I'm just tired of her saying no all the time."

"Sure, it can be tiring but you can't give up!" James exclaimed and I glanced at him, wondering why he would keep encouraging this if the future of one of his best friends could be at stake here. "Look, I can assure you it will be worth all the rejections once you get what you've always wanted."

"Ah," I hummed, understanding, "you mean Lily."

"Yes."

"But...haven't you given up?"

James blanched, "W-what?"

I raised an eyebrow, "I'm just wondering. You've stopped asking her out."

"Right...I..have given up on her," the boy said, clearing his throat. Wow. He actually said it. It was one thing assuming he would give up on his proclaimed love of the life and another to actually hear him say it.

"How come?" I inquired quietly.

James bit his lip. "I'm just tired of her saying no all the time," he repeated my words almost mechanically.

I laughed. "Then why are you telling me not to give up?"

"Because you haven't tried hard enough."

"Excuse me? Honeydukes?" I protested, indignantly.

"Yeah, yeah, it's a good start," James agreed with an eyeroll, "But you could change your tactic."

"How?"

"Help her when she needs it," he said, "You say she is always busy when you go there. Just start helping her out with small things and she might recognise what she is missing."

I pondered on his words, seeing no wrong in it. Once again, he surprised with how intelligent he could be if he wanted to.

But nonetheless- I sighed, "I will see what I can do."

"Good," James nodded, satisfied.

I looked at him pensively, "When did you realise it?"

"Hm?" he looked at me, "Realise what?"

"That you want to give up on Lily?"

"I do not want to-," he cut himself off, biting his lip, "I did not want to give up."

"But you've realised that you have tried hard enough now?" I asked and his eyes flickered away, nodding slowly.

"Yes...," he said, "I have tried enough."

I looked into the fire, leaning the side of my head against the couch and keeping silent as he sat beside me, deep in thought.

"I mean...it's been so many years," he interrupted the serene quietness around us softly and I peeked at him through the corner of my eyes, "Three years. And she hasn't budged once. Why?" he ran a hand through his hair and I noticed he always did that when he was frustrated.

"I did tell you once that you should get to know her more," I told him, "Be civil."

"I have been civil!" he said hotly, "I haven't asked her out for over a month, kept our interactions polite with nothing more than a hello and bye. Do you know how hard that was?" My eyes widened at his sudden outburst and he caught himself, biting his lip, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...you know."

"Hey, it's all good. We're friends now, right?" I reassured him, patting his back, "You can let it all out. I'm a good secret keeper."

James looked back at me and a tiny smile graced his lips. I tried not to stare at his handsome face for too long.

"Thank you, Cecily."

"You must have kept it all in for a while now," I mused, watching him rub his eyes.

"Yeah, I guess...," he trailed off as he leant back and for once I could catch a glimpse of tiredness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. His lids fluttered close and his tense shoulders slackened. My breath got caught in my throat when I noticed he was starting to relax around me, his guard down when I hadn't even realised it was up.

What it revealed would be something I wouldn't have ever thought about him: a small, vulnerable boy, his heart hurting just as much as anyone else's, who would get rejected by their crush. Probably more so since he would hear it multiple times a day. If any boy I had ever dared to ask out - which wouldn't ever happen because I'm not that much of a Gryffindor - and he would say no to me, I would probably crawl into my bed with a bag of sweets from Honeydukes for at least two weeks. Or until the bag was empty.

I slapped my hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump with a yelp, "What the hell, woman?"

"You are not going to give up, James Potter," I announced gravely, "If you want Lily to become your girlfriend then you are going to do more than try hard enough."

"I have-"

"I'm talking about more than being civil or throwing fireworks around people's eyebrows."

James rolled his eyes, "I told you it wasn't on purpose! Padfoot is lying!"

"Whatever," I dismissed him before turning sirius, "You can feel down about it. But you shouldn't ever give up on something you truly want." James sighed heavily. "You have to at least know that you've really tried everything. And I mean, everything. All is fair in Love and War."

The messy-haired boy stared at me, his glasses shining slightly from the flickering light of the fire that also started reflecting in his eyes, slowly but steadily, "You're right. I won't give up."

"Good," I nodded satisfied.

"As long as you don't, either."

"Hm?"

"You are not going to give up on that internship," James stated, solemnly holding up his little finger, "Pinky promise." Looking from his serious face to his pinky finger, I couldn't help burst, my laughter echoing through the empty Common Room. "OI! Don't laugh at me!" James huffed, still holding his hand up, "This is important."

"I know," I said through my giggles, "It just looked funny to me."

"Oh, I look funny to you?" James said, amusement glinting in his eyes before he suddenly reached for my waist, fast as the Seeker he was, and I protested loudly when he started tickling me, "I will show you funny!"

"James! Stop! No!" I yelped, laughing involuntarily as he kept his tirade up until I was left breathless with laughter, "Please, stop!"

"Alright, alright," James chuckled, his face beaming at my own flushed one as I tried to catch my breath, accutely aware of how close he still was to me. His smile faded slightly as we stared at each other. "Now let's try again," he said more quietly, holding up his pinky once more. I giggled slightly but hooked my own around his, feeling slightly bad that I was going to give him an empty promise. "We won't give up. And whoever does, owes the other one wish." Gulping slightly, I nodded in agreement, wondering what he would wish for since I had already given up.

And I knew he never would.

Chapter Four

#james potter #james potter x oc #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders fanfiction

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

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Grow Up Fast-Fred Weasley x Reader (Part 2)

(GIF credit to @everygif)

Part 1

Masterlist

Prompt List

‘OMG! I loved Grow Up Fast-Fred Weasley x Reader! I’ll love to see a part two where they go get the baby back! Hopefully if you have time, it was so cute‘

‘Grow Up Fast was so cute and amazing!! Part 2???‘

‘loved you’re recent Fred piece on the baby! just wondering if you could do another one along those lines but the reader is pregnant with twins and the whole family is finding it special obviously because Fred’s a twin, just something along those lines 💖‘

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, George Weasley x Reader (brother-in-law), Weasley family x Reader (in-laws)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Adoption, pregnancy symptoms/pregnancy talk (throwing up/check ups/scans/trimesters), lots and lots and lots of fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Are we really doing this?” I excitedly breathed out, squeezing Fred’s hand.

He slightly nodded, looking apprehensive himself.“We really are.”

We were stood inside the orphanage, and this wasn’t our first time here. Ever since the baby had left our short care, something had felt off in our lives. In the beginning, we blamed it on the shock of it all; it’s not everyday that you find an abandoned baby behind your shop. Even George pointed this out, saying that our minds seemed to be elsewhere. So here we stood, waiting for the care worker to come back down the hall, but this time she wouldn’t be by herself.

I held back an excited giggle when she turned around the corner with the baby in a carrier. He was awake, kicking his legs about under his blanket, gurgling away as if he knew he was going to his forever home. I tried not to start crying, even though my emotions were all over the place, but it seemed that Fred was happy to let the tears fall. Smiling up at him, I quickly made him face me, giggling as I wiped away his tears. We didn’t exchange any words, but he nodded his at me as if I had asked if he was alright.

“Here he is, little Tommy.” the woman beamed, handing him over to us.

Fred held the carrier in both arms, and we cooed at Tommy. We had helped pick out a name for him when they couldn’t find any recent hospital records, they had no idea where he came from or who his mother was. And just like that, we were taking him home with us.

Once home, we found ourselves lying on the bed, with Tommy in the middle (just like we had the first time we brought him home), and just staring. We had fed him before, meaning he was now sleepy, slowly dozing off.

“What do we do know?” Fred whispered.

“I don’t know.” I honestly answered.“It feels so strange to have him home again, even after seeing him in the care home for so many months.”

“I wish we were there to see him properly grow, he’s so much bigger now.”

“Well he’s here now. And it’s almost his first birthday, we should start planning.”

Fred chuckled, eyes widening when Tommy stirred. Tommy opened his eyes, face scrunching up to cry when I pulled him closer, holding onto him. He calmed down, a few whimpers escaping him before he nodded off again. I glanced at Fred, who was already looking at me, sharing a smile. This was our life now.

A few more months passed, filled with getting used to being parents; the late nights, early mornings, dealing with the ear piercing cries and smelly nappies, but also the bursts of giggles, funny noises and cuddles. So many of our friends and family had come forward to help, giving advice and wanting to get to know the new member of the family. Molly had been extremely enthusiastic after finding out we planned to adopt Tommy. She had worried that there had been problems with us, that we weren’t able to have babies of our own, though even after reassurance, she was still excited. And she offered to babysit way too much (though sometimes that was used to our advantage).

Now it was the day of Tommy’s first birthday. Since there were no hospital records to show his birth date, they had to give it their best guess. Nevertheless, Tommy was going to have a proper birthday. We had decorated the home, our presents were stacked next to the fireplace, the cake was displayed alongside the rest of the food, and I had picked out his outfit for the day, now all that was left to do was wait for the guests.

“Wow, look at my handsome boys!” I exclaimed when I entered the living room, seeing Fred holding up Tommy to look at himself in the mirror.

Fred gasped, turning around so that they were looking at me.“Tommy, look at mummy! Good thing she put in an effort too.”

I scoffed a laugh.“Is everything ready?”

“Yep. Guests should be arriving any minute.”

“Today is all about you Tommy.” I tickled his stomach, laughing with him as he squealed.

The party went amazingly. My family and Fred’s turned up at the same time, all loudly entering our home, gifts in hands, talking over one another. It was hard to take it all in, trying to answer all their questions as they passed me their coats and took off their shoes. Although all their excitement got the best of them, instantly going to greet Tommy and Fred, I didn’t mind, relishing the sight of our entire family together; it was the simple things in life that you could miss, and this was one of them. The day was filled with laughs, too much food and bad singing. There were also nudges towards Ron and Hermione, as well as Harry and Ginny about children, and poor George was being told to keep his search going for the right girl. Both grandmother’s wanted time with Tommy, but I knew he was going to become annoyed being passed around too much. Everyone was content watching him sit up by himself, cushions surrounding him in case he fell, playing with his toys.

Sitting back with Hermione, I found it hard to concentrate on her words. I suddenly felt tired, and also didn’t want to even think about the lunch I had served up. Trying to keep up with the conversation, I sipped at my water, feeling ill. Perhaps I was over tired from the late nights with Harry, we hadn’t had a gathering like this in a while, it was a lot to keep up with, especially when you were one of the hosts. I excused myself, quickly walking to the bathroom. Just as I was about to splash some water on my face, a horrible feeling rose in my throat, and I found myself bent over the toilet being sick. No, surely not, I couldn’t be could I?

Luckily I wasn’t throwing up for long, taking a moment to catch my breath, causing me to cough. Slowly standing, not feeling dizzy now, and quickly brushing my teeth as I flushed the toilet. Checking my reflection, I sighed when I saw how pale I had become. People would definitely notice, if not, then Fred certainly would. I had to act normal, be as bright and bubbly as I was ten minutes ago.

Upon my return, there was music playing, Ginny and Hermione swaying with Tommy on the floor whilst our parents conversed, and the lads talked about something unrelated to babies, families or weddings. Passing by them, I smiled, needing a glass of water. I realised Fred had followed me into the kitchen, sighing as I realised I would have to tell him.

“(Y/N), you don’t look well, are you OK?” Fred asked closely, his hands rubbing my arms up and down as he stood behind me.

I nodded after taking a sip of water.“Yeah. I’m fine now.”

“What does that mean?”

I turned around to face him, leaning back against the counter.“I um...I was just sick in the toilet.”

“Should we take you to a doctor? Do you need healing? What are your symptoms?” he rushed.

“No, I’m fine really. Perhaps I ate something bad....or....”

“Or what?”

“Fred, your mum babysat for us a couple of weeks ago.”

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“We were alone, all day and all night...can you connect the dots?”

It took him a few more seconds before it clicked, and as his eyes widened, I had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop him from yelling.

“Yes, Fred, I might be pregnant.” I whispered.

“Uh, am I interrupting something here?” Ron said from the doorway, confused when he saw the position we were in.

“Uh, y-yes! Fred was about to yell about the cake, but...but we didn’t want Harry to hear and get too excited.”

Ron furrowed his eyebrows at us as he slowly stepped back.“OK. I mean, he’s only one, I’m sure he wouldn’t have realised.”

Removing my hand from Fred’s mouth, I let out a sigh of relief.“Look, we don’t know if that’s true yet, so for now, don’t even think about it.”

“But, if you are...” Fred trailed off, smiling to himself.

“Would...would you be alright with that?”

“Would you?”

We hadn’t come back to that conversation, instead trying to focus on the rest of the party. Because Tommy was easily tired out, they didn’t stay for much longer. At any other time, I would insist they stay, even after putting Tommy to bed. However, I wasn’t being a good host as I let them put on their shoes and coats, each waving goodbye to little Tommy. With the door closed, and just the three of us leftover, Fred and I flopped onto the sofa, letting Tommy roam and tire himself out.

“I’ll book an appointment for this week.” I mumbled, trying to not let my eyes droop.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Fred said.

“I...I don’t know. It would be nice but George might get suspicious.”

“Would it be so bad if he found out? You know he would keep it a secret.”

“That’s true. Alright, come with me. Let’s find out together.”

And that’s what happened. Unfortunately it was almost another two weeks before I was able to be checked over; there had been a strange atmosphere as we waited, that’s all we were concentrating on. Tommy still received as much love as he usually did, but there were times where I would stress about the future. Tommy was just one, and if I was pregnant, there wasn’t going to be a big age gap between the children. That would be hard. They would be toddlers together, there would be screaming, crying, toilet training, the money for nappies, clothes, toys....but every time I found myself down that hole, Fred was there to pull me out, consoling me, assuring me we would be alright with one more child.

I had been bouncing Tommy on my lap as we waited for the doctor to see us. Fred had to take him away from me, worried that I would cause him to be sick, but it was a nervous tick. I was extremely grateful to have Fred with me, concentrating on his thumb running over the back of my hand, and the gentle kisses he would place on my forehead. But the appointment went by in a flash, and as we walked outside, I couldn’t help but squeal in excitement and shock, exclaiming loudly to everyone around me;

“WE’RE PREGNANT!”

George obviously had to know first, seeing as we took the day off work. But he was sworn to secrecy. We wanted to keep it under wraps for a while, waiting to see what my first trimester was like. The excitement was almost too much for me, I couldn’t stop picturing what it was going to be like for Tommy to have a sibling. Another person to add to our family, someone else to give our love to. Things were going well, of course there were the horrible symptoms, though I said to myself over and over again that this would be worth. The weeks whizzed by, and soon, I was starting to show, meaning Fred and I couldn’t stop rubbing the tiny bump. I had bawled when Tommy rested his head on it one night, as if he understood his brother or sister was in there.

We knew it would be impossible to keep it hidden anymore, and I seemed very healthy so far. We were also bursting to tell our friends and family, trying to think of ways to announce it. Fred suggested huge fireworks that wrote it out, but I knew that would be too much. Instead, he settled for a cake where the icing would start writing out the message ‘We’re Pregnant!’ when the candles were lit. Once again, the family found themselves squashed together, this time meeting at the Burrow. Tommy stood on Harry’s lap, clumsily using his face to balance himself as Fred and I caught everyone’s attention.

“We thought we would bring you all something special, a thank you for supporting us through the entire adoption process and for helping us get used to being parents.” I explained, pushing the cake into the centre of the table.

The candles had just been lit, and as everyone licked their lips at the sight of it, they realised what was happening. Screams, hollers and cheers erupted throughout the small room, causing me to burst into tears at the happiness. This was good, this was going to be an amazing chapter of my life.

My mother and molly would send me pregnancy books, recipes for meals that were good for the baby, or just natter on and on about advice, side effects, and what childbirth actually entailed. Sometimes it was a bit too much, I would wish they held some details back. The checkups were going well, Tommy’s behaviour was getting better as he grew, also Fred’s enthusiasm seemed to never die down. However, it had come to that certain appointment, the one some couples longed for. It was time to find out the gender of our child. The results we were given weren’t what we were expecting.

Stepping into the shop, I relaxed when I saw it wasn’t too busy. Fred was desperate to tell his brother the news. As he went to get him, I laughed at Tommy’s wide eyes, taking in all the colours and noises. Fred gestured for me to follow him into the stock room, getting their workers to take over the floor. As I stepped in, flashbacks to Tommy as a newborn came to me. How strange, it was almost like a full circle.

“So, what’s it gonna be then?” George grinned.

I giggled at Fred who was almost jumping up and down in excitement.“Go on then, I said you could tell him.”

“Well, Georgie, it’s a boy-”

He threw his arms up in the air.“Yes! I knew it!”

“And a girl.”

“Wait, what?” his arms slowly sank down.

“We’re having twins! There’s going to be another set of Weasley twins!”

George responded with a loud cheer, throwing himself onto his brother in an engulfing hug. They were patting each other on the back, at first jumping about before they calmed down, swaying side to side.

“Freddie, that’s amazing! (Y/N), you’re going to be massive!”

I scoffed a laugh, knowing he meant no harm.“Thank you very much George. You’ve already earned yourself a whole weekend of babysitting.”

“Have you told mum yet?”

“No,” Fred said,“you’re the first.”

“She’s going to go crazy.”

“So is mine.” I stated.

“Who would have thought, eh? Another set of twins?”

“I’m going to finally know what it was like to raise you two. Perhaps I should have a masterclass from your mum.”

“She’ll give you lots of tips, and stories about how much of a terror we were.”

“Great, looking forward to that.”

Leaving the shop, Fred took over carrying Tommy in one arm, his other hand holding mine. We dawdled on our way home, seeming to be in no rush as we took in what news we were given today.

I smiled as I placed a hand on my bump.“Fred?”

“Hm?” Tommy was already falling asleep on his shoulder.

“Are we really doing this?”

He smiled back.“We really are.”

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