#because imagine your six years old and your dad is frustrated at you because you’re not behaving like a grown man in the military

[calibrationneeded]

John dehumanizes Sam and Dean in different ways, but both in the way a solider would to keep a “level” head in a situation, which I think makes a lot of sense, as John was a marine.

Initially, he seems to view Sam as someone might view the “good side” in combat, something that needs to be defended even if it means laying down your life, but there’s no actual emotional connection, a soldier who loves this country doesn’t necessarily love the people. Later on after the demon blood incident it’s like a switch is flipped for John, and all the sudden he sees Sam almost as a traitor who needs to be taken out. It kind of makes me think of in zombie media when a character is turned and another one kills them without hesitation because it doesn’t matter if they used to be their loved one, they have to kill them for the greater good.

With Dean, he treats him kind of like a subordinate or fellow officer. He cares about him, but in the throes of what he sees as battle, if his comrade is taken out, he can’t always stop to save them, he would have to do what’s best for the greater good in the situation. He would feel sad if Dean died, but he would justify it by saying that, that’s the way war is, and that Dean was a martyr (as if Dean chose to be in John’s Sudo army). I think this is also why John is so aggressively hard on him because he doesn’t see him as his son, he sees him as a soldier who needs to be harped on.

This is also reflected in the canon because there are several times where a character will assume that Dean was in the military, and he will answer along the lines of that he did serve, but he’ll be vague. To be perfectly honest, Dean did essentially serve when it comes to the emotional toll, but he was never in an actual military position. 

“Even extreme grief may ultimately vent itself in violence--but more generally takes the form of apathy.” -Joseph Conrad (Heart of Darkness, 1899.)

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Career Day

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, crack, jjk men as dads / fem!reader

An: Your child comes home and says tomorrow is career day at their school. They want to bring you and their daddy to school to show off how cool you two are, but.. their dad doesn’t exactly have the most conventional job.

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA

SATORU

“My daddy is the strongest!” Your son explains to a room full of his peers. Satoru is proudly beaming next to him. You note how much they look alike. The white hair, the bright blue eyes. Your son looks like he came straight from Satoru and had nothing to do with you.

But your son, Aoi, definitely had your personality.

“Nuh uh. He can’t be the strongest. Superman’s the strongest!” Another kid protested with an unconvinced frown.

“Well, my daddy is like superman!” Aoi retorts, keeping his headstrong personality like his mama. “Actually, he’s even better than superman!”

“He’s not even wearing a suit!” A different child speaks up. You share a nervous glance with Satoru. He’s enjoying this all too much.

“He doesn’t need a suit to be the strongest, dumbass!” Your sweet boy yells, and you promptly cover his mouth. Satoru is laughing his ass off, making the entire situation worse.

Correction, Aoi trying out his dad’s signature hand signal and saying “domain expansion” made the entire situation so much worse.

“You’re grounded, Aoi. You can’t say those things to other people. It’s rude and hurtful.” You say as you and Satoru walk your young boy home. Aoi lets out a small frustrated groan.

“I’m still getting him ice cream.” Satoru interjects with a proud smile. “My boy tried to cast his first domain at just six-years-old. He deserves a sweet treat.” Two wide smiles look up at you, and you realize you’re outnumbered here. Rolling your eyes, you nudge Satoru.

“I want a girl next.”

SUGURU

Mimiko and Nanako begged Suguru to come to their school’s career day. He was of course hesitant to do so, given that Jujutsu sorcery was still a hidden art in Japan. He didn’t exactly know how to explain his career to a bunch of kids.

He had a plan though. He would just tell the children that he was a preacher at a church. It’s not… completely a lie. He was a leader for.. a type of church.

You and Geto walk into the cozy looking classroom and see a load of other parents there. Your husband grimaced at the thought of having to interact with all these… people.

You give Suguru a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “It’ll be okay. Anything for the girls, right?” You whisper into his ear, making him nod. Anything for the girls.

When it’s finally Mimiko and Nanako’s turn to explain what their daddy does for a living, your small family gathers at the front of the classroom. Plenty of small innocent faces and reassuring smiles fill the room.

“Okay girls, tell us what your parents do for a living.” Their teacher prompts with a warm smile.

“My daddy swallows balls for a living!” Nanako says proudly with a beaming smile.

The kids erupted into laughter while their parents gave you two disgusted looks.

To make matters worse, “He also hates filthy mo-“ Mimiko tries to add on, but Geto quickly covers her mouth with his hand.

After explaining what a vivid imagination your twins have, you go on to explain that Geto is a leader at a church, and well, that doesn’t go over too well either.

“Homeschool?” Geto suggests as the four of you walk home.

“Most definitely.” You agree. Mimiko and Nanako are now educated by you at the home, where they can’t out their dad for swallowing balls.

TOJI

“Mama, make papa come to career day.” Your young son, Megumi, demanded. He had a small little pout on his face, and his arms were firmly crossed over his chest. Behind him, Toji stood, shaking his head at his son’s determination.

He often did this: telling you to make Toji do something because you were the only person who could make Toji do anything. After all these years, mans was still wrapped around your finger.

“Baby, Papa’s job is kinda private.” You explain quietly as you pet Megumi’s soft hair.

The small boy’s look of determination shifted to a look of reserve. Even as a young child, he wasn’t great at showing when his feelings were hurt, but you could always tell.

“Gumi.” You say his name softly, bending over to look at the boy’s flat expression.

You were also the only one who could coax Megumi into showing his real emotions.

Tears welled in his eyes, and his bottom lip started quivering. “I don’t wanna be the only one whose parents didn’t come.”

“Oh baby.” You frown as you pull your son into a hug. You glare upwards at Toji, and his eyes widened slightly. He knew what that look meant. “You’re going to career day.” You say to him, leaving no room for argument.

The next day,

“Okay Mr. Fushiguro, what do you do for a living?” The teacher asks Toji as he’s sat next to Megumi. Your son is actually smiling, enjoying the fact that Toji actually came to career day.

“People pay me a large sum of money, and I take care of someone for them.” Toji explains vaguely.

“Oh! Like a doctor?” One of the kids asked with an impressed smile.

“Sure, like a doctor.” Your husband lies, knowing that he does quite the opposite of what a doctor does.

SUKUNA

The look on the kids faces as your tall, muscular, tatted husband walked into the classroom was hilarious. Most of them were completely mortified, giving Sukuna frightened stares.

Your husband was completely unfazed. If anything, he was soaking in the kids’ fear. He sat at the front of the room with a look of arrogance.

Your nephew, Yuji, sat between you two. No, he was technically not your kid, but he didn’t have anyone else to bring to career day. So, Unc Sukuna and Auntie Yn were to the rescue.

“And.. what do you do for work, sir?” The teacher asked in almost a judgmental tone as she eyed Sukuna. You couldn’t tell if she despised him or wanted to fuck him.

“I don’t work. I live off tithe.” Sukuna bluntly answered with a shrug. His lopsided smile never left his face.

“What’s a tithe?” A small child asked quietly.

“It means people pay me out of fear of that I’ll harm them if they don’t.” Your husband gives a child a sharp stare with a challenging smile. He wanted the kids to keep asking questions. The thought of scaring multiple children all at once fueled him.

“Like… beat them up?” Another child asked.

“Like eating their snot-nosed children.” Sukuna answered with a toothy grin. The children all shrieked and cried in terror. Hell, even their parents looked frightened.

“Ryomen.” You chide as you look over towards your husband. He was laughing maniacally, even slapping his knee like the old man he was.

Yuji never invited you two to another career day.

[sweeturavity]

Hay! Heh, I am a fan about your post, and i was wondering if you can do a bakugou x y/n post where they are 25 and have a 6 year old son named kanji that looks and acts like bakugou, and they are at a grocery store and kanji sees a toy and makes a BIG tantrum embarrassing Y/n, and bakugou let's out his strict father side, aka bakugou is 1 hero, so... yeah.... rich.. THANK YOU 😭

𝓒𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄

you loved your husband dearly—even though his attitude sometimes felt like wrangling a feral cat, you couldn’t imagine your life without him. katsuki was a great husband and an even better father. somehow, he managed to juggle being the number one hero, a title that came with endless demands, while still making time for you and your little family.

and then there was kanji. your six-year-old son who was, quite frankly, a miniature katsuki in every sense. the same fiery attitude, the unshakable stubbornness, the sass that could cut sharper than any blade. even the way he’d glare at people—it was uncanny. sometimes you’d swear you were looking at a younger version of your husband.

it wasn’t just his personality, either. kanji’s wild blond hair, sharp crimson eyes, and even the way he crossed his arms when he was annoyed? all bakugou. it was as if the universe had taken katsuki and hit the copy-paste button without consulting you first. you couldn’t help but feel a little robbed—after all, you were the one who carried him for nine months, dealt with the swollen feet, the cravings, the mood swings. and yet, kanji turned out to be a walking, talking katsuki replica.

but honestly? you didn’t really mind. even when kanji’s temper flared, or when he mimicked his dad’s bossy tone, it made your heart warm. because as much as katsuki’s attitude could be a challenge, you loved everything about him. and seeing those same traits in kanji, no matter how chaotic they made your days, was a reminder of the love the two of you had built.

you always knew how much your son looked up to his father—it was written all over kanji’s face. every little thing katsuki did, kanji wanted to do, too. he’d follow katsuki around the house, mimicking his movements, copying the way he crossed his arms or the gruff way he’d say, ‘tch’. kanji’s biggest dream, even at six years old, was to be the number one hero, just like his dad. and katsuki? oh, he ate that up.

“when you’re older, kid, i’ll show ya all the tricks.” katsuki would say, ruffling kanji’s already messy blond hair. “i’ll make sure you’re better than all those extras out there.” kanji’s eyes would light up every time, and the two of them would launch into some over-the-top conversation about training regimens and hero rankings. their bond was undeniable, built on the same fiery ambition and drive that katsuki had passed down to him.

but with that bond came the attitude. katsuki’s attitude. and you swore sometimes it was your curse to deal with two versions of the same fiery temper under one roof. kanji had inherited more than just katsuki’s looks—he had the same sharp tongue, the same unrelenting sass, and the same way of glaring at you like you were personally ruining his day when he didn’t get his way.

you loved your son to pieces, but oh, how your patience was tested.

you swore sometimes you could feel your eye twitch when your six-year-old son had the audacity to sass you. “kanji, clean up your toys.” you’d say, only to be met with an exasperated; “ugh, fine, mom. i’ll do it later, jeez!” complete with an eye roll so dramatic it could win awards.

“watch your tone, kanji.” you’d warn, and from the next room, katsuki would shout, “oi, don’t be talkin’ to your mom like that, you little brat!” and yet, you’d catch him stifling a laugh when kanji wasn’t looking, because deep down, katsuki knew exactly where the kid got it from.

there were days you swore you were outnumbered—two bakugous against one you—but deep down, you couldn’t help but love it. kanji’s sass, as frustrating as it could be, was just another reminder of the fiery, headstrong family you’d built. even if it meant you’d occasionally lose an argument to a six-year-old.

and that’s how you ended up in this situation. you were just trying to get through the grocery trip without any chaos. that was the goal. in and out—grab the essentials and avoid anything that might set off your six-year-old son, kanji. but, of course, life had other plans.

everything had been going smoothly until you turned down the toy aisle, rookie mistake. kanji’s sharp gaze zeroed in on a display of action figures, specifically a limited-edition hero toy that looked suspiciously like dynamight himself. his tiny hand grabbed your sleeve, tugging with determination.

“mom! mom! look! it’s dad’s toy! i need it!”

you gave him a soft smile, crouching down to his level. “kanji, we’re not getting toys today, baby. we’re just here for groceries. you already have tons of toys at home.”

big mistake.

his bottom lip jutted out, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “but i don’t have this one!”

before you could reason with him, he dropped to the floor in a dramatic fashion, kicking his legs and letting out an ear-piercing wail that had heads turning from all directions. your cheeks burned as you tried to calm him, murmuring soft words that fell on deaf ears.

“kanji, stop this right now.” you whispered, glancing around at the growing number of onlookers. “you’re making a scene.”

“i don’t care!” he shouted back, tears streaming down his cheeks. “i want it!”

just as you were about to give up and let the earth swallow you whole, a familiar voice cut through the chaos like a whip.

“kanji.”

you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. katsuki’s voice was low and sharp, the kind that made grown adults flinch—and it had your son freezing mid-tantrum.

before you could say anything else, katsuki—who’d been a few steps behind grabbing something off the shelf—appeared, his towering figure and unmistakable presence shutting down the entire aisle’s noise. his crimson eyes narrowed as he looked at kanji.

“oi, brat. knock it off.” he barked, his voice low and firm, the same tone he used as pro hero dynamight when things got serious. kanji’s sobs faltered for a moment, but he looked up at his dad with that same fiery determination katsuki himself had mastered.

“but daddy! i need it!” kanji tried, sniffling dramatically.

“you don’t need it.” katsuki shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. “what you need is to listen to your mom and stop actin’ like a damn spoiled kid.”

kanji’s bottom lip quivered. “but—”

“no buts.” katsuki interrupted, crouching down to kanji’s level. his tone softened just slightly, though his eyes stayed sharp. “you think screamin’ and cryin’ is gonna get you what you want? not a chance. that ain’t how it works. you don’t get somethin’ just ‘cause you throw a fit. you gotta earn it, got it?”

kanji blinked up at him, his tears slowing as the weight of his dad’s words sank in. he mumbled something incoherent, and katsuki tilted his head.

“what was that?”

“got it.” kanji said more clearly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“good.” bakugou said, ruffling the boy’s spiky blonde hair before standing back up. he glanced at you, his expression softening slightly. “you okay, mama?”

“yeah.” you muttered, still feeling the lingering embarrassment from the scene. “thanks for stepping in.”

he smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. “you’ve been dealin’ with his crap all day, huh?”

“you have no idea.”

bakugou glanced back at kanji, who was now holding onto your leg, looking thoroughly chastised.“now quit the damn tears and help your mom with the list.” katsuki stood up and ruffled kanji’s messy blond hair, his version of an apology for being so harsh.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. katsuki turned to you with a smirk, his tone lighter now. “what?”

“strict dad mode, huh?” you teased, trying not to laugh.

“damn right. kid’s gotta learn. can’t have him thinkin’ just ‘cause his old man’s dynamight he can get whatever he wants.”

later, as you loaded groceries into the car, you noticed katsuki handing a small bag to kanji, who lit up with excitement.

“you bought it for him anyway?” you asked, raising a brow.

katsuki shrugged, smirking. “don’t get used to it, kid.” he said to kanji. “this doesn’t mean you get what you want every time.”

kanji nodded enthusiastically, clutching the action figure like it was the greatest treasure in the world.

you rolled your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips. “strict dad, my ass.”

“hey.” katsuki shot back, pulling you closer. “i can be strict and still spoil my kid. he is a bakugou, after all.”

[yinses]

vertigo.

the one where toji is still a hitman and somehow remaining a dad albeit terrible one and you become more than just a neighbor to both father and son

rating: t wc: 3.6k+

a/n: this will be a super slow process as i'm still working out the kinks. but this was my follower event way back and i finally have the first part done!

it should be cliche. you know that trope where your neighbor knocks on your door asking for a grocery item and then the meeting spirals into a series of events that draw you together.

that could have been the plot line, if you were looking for romance between the responsibilities of maintaining a job and a roof over your head.

would have been the catalyst, had the figure standing in the entrance of your doorway not been three-foot-tall and looking like he already knew who to blame for this predicament.

and of course he did, because you’d both been here before.

“can i borrow some milk, please? dad forgot to pick up some.”

again.

last time it was the cereal.

the time before it was toilet paper.

there were a list of necessities your deadbeat neighbor never seemed to have around his apartment, leading his nine year old to trek across the hallway to your door.

megumi fushiguro had been a rather independent child since you’d known him for the better part of two years now. upon moving in, you would see him in glimpses: carefully taking the stairs up and down from the mailroom or dragging trash from one end of the hall to the next.

you would have thought he was the sole resident of apartment 2B if not for his lacking age.

it wasn’t until your fateful meeting after watching him struggle against the weight of a laundry basket full of clothes that you’d interjected yourself into his life and this met his father.

toji fushiguro.

you were hoping for a mother. albeit a bit stressed soul, too overcome with accountabilities to micromanage every daily task for her child. there was room there for you to offer your assistance without coming across as too threatening or invasive. you didn’t have a child but you could see how time could slip away from you. for a week you managed to forget detergent after numerous sticky notes and phone reminders.

so imagine your surprise when you’d balanced the basket to your hip, much to megumi’s annoyed but grateful huff, and knocked on the door.

the man that greeted you looked about as perplexed as you were, not expecting his son or anyone else to require entrance.

“and who are you?”

you knew that he had to have seen you, because all at once he was very familiar. a figure in passing that you’d seen slipping in and out of the apartment building at late hours. it was hardly a surprise that you found yourself seeking him out more often than not. he was a man made from pure steel and silk; muscled, back broad with a cut of a smile.

you figured he just had a night job not that he was neglecting his son.

“your neighbor,” you explain shortly, somehow garnering the confidence to thrust the basket assertively into his arms. the man doesn’t even stumble from the added weight. frankly you don’t think he would have cared if the contents went tumbling down.

“care to add in why you’re carrying our laundry?”

'sure bud, right after you explain why your six year old was doing it first.'

it what you thought echoed in your own head. you didn’t realize the words had bubbled past your lips before the man’s eyes narrowed.

you were met by a brief spark of uncertainty. you were frustrated, but that didn’t mean you were ready to face the wrath of your neighbor. but the impending scrimmage never came.

in fact, he laughed.

in your face.

to your right, megumi scowled further before squeezing past the two adults, pushing the door further open and giving you a glimpse of their home.

you were astonished a second time.

no, you didn’t feel like an asshole who imagined a debilitated flat with cracked tiles and peeling walls. that kind of damage wouldn’t do well with your landlord. the price that you paid for every month came with the expectations of mid tier living. it wasn’t a penthouse but it was quality arrangements.

which made you wonder why someone who could afford a 4K tv couldn’t be bothered to hire a proper housing service for his son. you could only get a glimpse of the living room from your view but what you summed up amounted to better arrangements than you could afford.

the man obviously wasn’t concerned with style but knew how to shop apparently.

just not for the necessities it seems.

“megumi likes to do things on his own,” he explains with a careless wave of his hand.

there was nothing wrong with encouraging independence in an adolescent but not to the point where it was detrimental to their health. megumi wasn’t the most social boy but he was far too young to be interacting with strangers without parental supervision.

your voice is flat and void of interest in coddling the lousy father, ‘’he’s a child.”

the man only hums with a curl of his lips that lets you know this isn’t the first time it was brought to his attention and certainly wouldn’t be the one that marks a change in anything. his heel kicks at the door, pushing it wider in invitation. but your gaze doesn’t travel further than the doorway, too taken with the way his gaze lingering on you instead.

“you’re welcome to come in and try to take the reins from him a bit. i’m sure we can squeeze you in somewhere.”

your face runs hot at the audacity of the man.

indignant but refusing to stomp your foot, you point to megumi and then your door. “if he needs something tell him to knock on my door. that way if you ever have to write a police report at least you know we’re to start. “

and then you turn on your heels, all too aware of the pair of eyes burning against your backside until your door slams shut.

it took some time for megumi to take you up on your offer, certainly not with any encouragement from his father. eventually it seemed that he accepted more advantages to faults leading him to start making small requests as if gauging your competence.

or consistency.

and you did your best to meet his expectations. you couldn’t have possibly imagined what could have come from this rudimentary arrangement but you recognized a child in need and rose to the role.

upon reaching your kitchen, you go for the cabinets first, pulling out a box of his favorite cereal. megumi doesn’t question the offer, already climbing his way onto the stool by the time you circle back around with a bowl and milk.

“toji’s sleeping?”

you don’t insult him by trying to pour either ingredient.

“yeah.”

“i took the time to make a list. even imported it onto that grocery app for him. he literally only needed to check out.”

“yeah.”

the roles should have been referenced. but megumi seemed fine letting you be his voice box of emotions. he’d already met his quota for wasting them on his deadbeat father.

you still didn’t know what toji did for a living, only aware that it was enough to provide when needed. he didn’t always remember to put food on the table but at least there was one in the house, among other expensive amenities.

leaning forward against the countertop, you find yourself contemplating the lingering mystery. while it had plagued your mind for the longest, it had never made its way to your lips. whether or not you would get an honest answer managed to stay your tongue.

there was obviously more to be added to their story, starting with his mother.

“why are you staring at me like that?”

he looked almost comical, bed hair still awry with milk dripping against his chin. despite his scowl there were moment like this that reminded you that he was still very much a child.

smiling, you leaned in closer. “just wondering how much taller you think you’re going to get when all you eat for breakfast is that sugary confection.’’

the boy looked back down at his bowl then at you. “ i get it from your house, so maybe i should ask you.”

the spark of laughter died as quickly as it came as your brow twitched. “i’m going to stuff you in that box, brat. then we’ll see how much you’ll grow.”

megumi didn’t laugh but the soft smile that graced his face was volumes louder.

despite his protests, you still escort megumi to the bus stop. you manage to guise most of it as a small detour of your own venture to the store, distracting him momentarily by adding his own request to your list. you'd grown into a habit of stocking your kitchen for two instead of the single household you lived in.

it was a more expensive way yo live, but the cost of duality over loneliness beat out any cost. ultimately, your ploy worked long enough until the squeak of breaks edged towards the sidewalk. unable to resist, you sneak a quick kiss to his cheek and wave eagerly as he trudges off with warm skin. it only takes a few moments for his face to appear in one of the windows, wave reluctant but present as the bus takes off.

presumptuous as it may seem, you like to think that you made his mornings a little better. he surely improved upon yours.

fingers snapping at the idea, you assigned a new task to your agenda. "a bit of change of plans, but i think he'd enjoy some ginger pork." you'd yet to understand the boy's obsession with ginger, but learned that he loved dishes that complimented it well. if anything it brought some variety and diversity to your culinary skills.

when you started towards the garage, however, you realized your pockets were missing the distinct jingle of keys. in your rush to see him off, you must have forgotten them by the door. megumi must have been to busy scolding you to notice as well, completely forgetting his chance to get on you about forgetting to lock your door.

"an easy remedy," you quipped, taking two steps at a time to the third floor.

your door was unlocked, but thankfully closed as you popped in quickly to snag your keys from the nearby table. you barely took note of the second door closing in unison with yours.

"megumi's gone already?"

you considered ignoring him. you back was already turned and there was nothing stopping you from just unlocking your door and going back inside. dinner was still a ways away as it was. it was truly a wonder how one fushiguro could ruin your day so quickly after it was made.

"yes with breakfast. you're welcome." unable to resist the jab, you pocketed your keys and made your way back down the hall. you hardly made it past the next unit before his footsteps echoed your own. you cursed whatever devil rumbled under his bed to wake him this early.

"it's not as if we don't have food. i know i saw poptarts last night."

"he wanted cereal."

"pretty sure there is that too. or he didn't look hard enough."

against your better judgement, you rounded on him. "and the milk i added to your shopping cart? with all the other groceries you failed to purchase?"

jesus christ when had he gotten so close? you had to take a step back just to keep your nose from brushing against the cloth of his shirt. toji wasn't overly tall, maybe average at best to keep him from towering over you at excessive length. as if his build wasn't enough. even dressed in soft sweats and loose shirt, the man couldn't hide definition.

"the cart should still be there. with my card information attached. nothing was stopping you from checking out on your own."

except reason. despite his son connecting the two of you, there wasn't enough history for you to be comfortable spending his money freely, even with permission. you would rather eat away at your own bank account to provide for the boy.

you'd done the work, setting up his account for him and saving the login information on your own device to create his carts. you even set up a favorites list for different occasions. it all call with quick and easy delivery, as long as he completed the checkout process. something he managed to forgo every time.

"are you a child?" you asked with a bitter laugh. the man made it easy to assign megumi as the responsible party of the house.

the man in question only grinned at the jab, skin around his scarred lip pulling but gave nothing else. he didn't really need to justify it with an answer when the evidence was so blaring.

"heading to the store now?"

you didn't want to question why his guess was so accurate.

against your better judgment, you confirmed. "yes, i'm making megumi ginger pork for dinner."

"you spoil him."

'you don't nearly enough'. come to mind but you resist the urge. instead you carry on all the way to the parking garage, hoping at some point the man would lose interest and stray away. but he continued to pursue until you reached your vehicle.

when your brow raised in question, he only waved his phone as if it was enough.

"i have the list here. might as well knock it out. i'll even buy the ingredients for this special dinner."

shopping with toji fushiguro seemed like more trouble than it was worth. but the man didn't leave much up for argument as he descended down the hallway.

"fine."

it wasn't as if the man seemed capable of accomplishing it on his own.

he offers to drive, but you feel more comfortable behind the wheel as he clambers into the passengers seat. ultimately, it appears that your worries were your own as the man makes himself at home, head resting back against the seat while his legs take up any available space.

toji doesn't make small talk or fumble with the radio, just watched the passing traffic with that neutral smile of his. in fact, the entire ride was underwhelming uneventful. an odd take to have when you shouldn't have been expecting much in the first place.

eager to get started, you pulled a cart free of the cage and made you way down the first aisle. whether or not toji decided to follow closely behind at this point was beyond your care. this was your opportunity to properly stock megumi's house with some of his favorite, something that would easily overshadow ginger pork in the grand scheme of it all.

"looks like milk is first on this list."

how ironic.

toji didn't appear to have strayed far at all, lounging comfortably at your side with one hand holding his phone with the other stuffed in his pocket. his thumb slide across the screen as he worked his way down the list.

"you really think he needs all of this? seem like most of it would go to waste."

milk was two aisle over, but you could start with the rice and other grains available here. you followed the brands with you gaze in search of your preferred.

"whatever you don't want to buy i can pay for toji, it's not that complicated."

the man gave you a looked that could have been offended if he'd put enough effort into it, "i can afford whatever you want, doll."

hauling the bag of rice to the cart, you deposited it and resumed your way down the path. "good. then i shouldn't hear any more complaints."

did he ever stop grinning?

you shrugged and the motion caused your shoulder to brush against his arm. toji took it as a silent gesture to make way and step aside. one by one, you mentally crossed off another item from the list. every now and again, you'd add something fresh—all for megumi's benefit of course.

deciding that toji was indeed a resident of the house too (and the sole buyer), you reasoned to ask him for any of his own preferences.

humming through his though process, the man runs a hand through is hair and props his elbows on the side of the cart. "i did notice your list was devoid of anything particularly spicy. worried about a little bite?"

in truth, the blandness hadn't been intentional. when making lists for others, you tried to be as generic as possible. that was back when you had exceptions s that the man would simply check out when prompted to. you hadn't really considered specialized tastes. most of what you purchased for your own home was catered to megumi who never mentioned enjoying heated dishes.

"didn't know that was your thing. do you want to pick out something then?"

you found it impressive how civil this whole venture had become.

toji shifts his gaze away briefly before returning with an uptick of his lips, "i'll leave it to you."

or could have been.

with a huff, you go to steer the cart, forcing the man to right himself to avoid getting run over. rather than complain he just files back in behind you as you move from aisle to aisle.

you end up focusing more on spices then specific foods, already cataloging different dishes from your memory to take a shot at. its too early to tell if toji would actually appreciate the gesture, but fortunately there there was little that you wouldn't eat as well.

unable to resist, you snatched a few snacks and savory treats as well. toji eyed the selection with amusement but didn't comment on the spontaneous choices. maybe you actually picked something he liked or more likely he didn't care.

as surprising and albeit pleasantly non-confrontational this trip had been, you were aware of how long you'd already been in the store deemed it enough for the time being. least toji didn't binge through the entire cart, megumi would hopefully be able to enjoy some of it. though part of you still wished he would stop by just for company sake.

it was hard not to get attached to the boy.

as you brought the cart to the end of the conveyer belt, you turned to make a witty comment about helping unload, only to find the man ahead of the game with a few items already in tow. toji even nudged you away from the cart with an impatient hand.

"are you two together?" the question came from the far end of the conveyer belt where a young women waited with a scanner in hand.

toji replied neutrally, "i'm paying."

you watched as he made a show without effort. despite his lazy attire, he made it work for him shirt stretching and lifting to expose slivers of promise. a small tug against the cart still in your grip, pulled you from your observance as toji sent you a knowing look but didn't comment.

the same could not be said for the poor cashier still quite taken.

though you couldn't blame her, you'd been the same before you had the privilege of meeting him. if she was lucky maybe this would kickstart his own desire to finally come to the store and do his own bidding. then she could make the most of whatever she was after. likely nothing good for her.

your impatience bit into your kindness as you urged her own," i really need to get back home if you could please."

startled but easily composed, she managed a strained smile throughout the remainder of the process.

"come again!"

you take off the moment the receipt is in hand. your grumbling didn’t cease as you began unloading the bags from the cart. “she could have at least taken up our time after ringing us up.”

you jumped at the presence by your ear. toji collected the remaining groceries with ease and stored them away. “believe it or not, some people actually find me attractive.”

the problem wasn’t seeing or believing. you could do both of those well enough.

“it’s a shame then that i had to meet your personality first.”

against your better judgement, you decide that while megumi has a nice smile, his father has a pretty nice laugh.

remaining true to his new helpful occupation, toji carried the majority of the load to the building. where you would have taken the elevator to off set the weight, he confidently took the stairs. though the task seemed less daunting with two bags to his six.

"hang on."

toji paused by his door while you quickly rummaged through the bags and collected what you would need for dinner later. it was still early, but it would do good to marinate the meat in the time being.

he called out to you as you worked the key into your lock.

"now what?"

replying over one shoulder, you pushed open the door with the other. "now you go do whatever it is you do while i handle some other chores during my day off."

when you turned around, he was still there waiting, bags in hand. "sure you don’t need my help?"

you'd already spent more time alone today than you had in 2 years. it was unlikely that there was more that he could offer that you couldn't handle on your own.

"no, toji i think I’m good"

he studies you for a bit before shrugging.

"alright see you for dinner then."

unable to help yourself, you took the bait blindly. "i never invited you."

toji wiggled his fingers, "i paid. i invited myself," and snapped the door shut between you.

[capseycartwright]

what about buddie + small town au for the short fics ?

Buck had never imagined he’d end up back in his hometown, years after he first left - but after years of travelling, it had sort of made sense to end up back in small town Texas. He’d trained with the fire department in Dallas, and transferred up to the bend-in-the-road town he’d grown up in and (mostly) hadn’t looked back.

He’d had his reasons.

It just turned out that his reasons had ran as far from their hometown as they could, in the end. Buck - he’d been hurt by it, but he hadn’t been bitter about it, he wasn’t bitter about it. Life just - life wasn’t meant to work out in their favour, but that didn’t mean life was bad. Buck had bought a house, a house of his own, and he had a job he loved, and his sister was back in his life, and he could be happy. Really, he could.

August in Texas was one of Buck’s favourite times of the year. Not the beginning of the month, no, but toward the end of August, as the weather slowly started to change, and the sunsets seemed to get longer and more golden and fiery and orange, and it reminded Buck of those long hot Texas summers he’d lived so many of, growing up, working long shifts at the grocery store, and -

Well, being with Eddie.

Eddie Diaz. Eddie Diaz was Buck’s reason for leaving, and he’d been Buck’s reason for coming home. Buck had been a freshman, when Eddie was a sophomore, and Buck had been head over heels for him from the moment he’d spotted him at tryouts for the baseball team - Eddie had been a vice-captain, and Buck had trailed along after him like a sad puppy, frankly, and it hadn’t been until the summer after Buck’s freshman year of high-school that Eddie Diaz had picked him up in his beat up old pickup truck and they’d gotten milkshakes and driven out into the desert and Eddie had kissed him like Buck was worth something and he’d spent the whole summer desperately in love.

That was why Buck loved August.

He loved August - and he hated September, because that was when Eddie had ended it, and shattered Buck’s heart into a million pieces. He’d sort of held onto the desperate hope that Eddie might come back to him again, but then he’d heard from Eddie’s mom that he’d moved up to Austin, to go to college, and he’d dropped out and gone and gotten fucking married and six months later Eddie was a goddamn dad and Buck had ran as far and as fast as the could.

Still.

August reminded Buck of happier times.

Switching on the hose, Buck set about rinsing off the soap from the firetruck wheels. Dallas had been hectic, and busy, and constantly moving, and life back at home was quieter, and there was time for chores in the firehouse - and Buck always volunteered to wash the truck, just so he could watch the sunset, or the sunrise, the front doors of the firehouse garage open and the golden sand of the Texas desert stretching out for miles ahead of him.

It was a reminder, in a way, that regardless of how much it felt like everyone in town was in Buck’s business (especially his dating business), he was still a tiny, insignificant speck in the grand scheme of the universe. It was oddly comforting.

“Hey, hotshot.”

The voice was unbearably familiar, as Buck slowly turned to see Eddie standing in the doorway of the firehouse. He was still in his fatigues, and Buck tried to swallow the angry bitterness that rose in his throat as he gazed at the familiar camouflage print, Diaz printed in black, blocky letters on Eddie’s chest.

He’d clearly just gotten home.

Eddie’s smile was the same, soft, half-crooked smile it was when he was eighteen and he was at the centre of Buck’s entire universe. “I heard you’ve moved home,” he continued, voice soft. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you here again.”

Buck twisted the hose he was holding in his hands, careful fingers smoothing out the line before he replied. “I thought I had a reason to come home,” he said simply, looking everywhere except at Eddie. “But I was wrong. Clearly.”

“Buck….” Eddie stepped forward, his forehead creased with worry.

“Eddie, don’t,” Buck shook his head. “You called me, from fucking Afghanistan, crying, because you missed me, and you begged me to come home - and when I got home, Shannon was the one to tell me that you’d reenlisted. Without telling me, Eddie.”

“I had to, Buck.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Eddie - it might work with your parents, or Shannon, but it’s not going to work with me,” Buck dropped the hose, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He’d wanted Eddie for the last ten goddamn years, and he still wanted him more than he had the words for, and he fucking hated the bones of Eddie Diaz for making him want him, still, even after all this time.

Eddie was quiet, for a second. “I was terrified,” he admitted. “The divorce papers - they’d just been finalised, and I was terrified because I didn’t know how I was going to be a father to Christopher when our family was so broken - and all because of me,” he paused, voice shaking slightly as he looked intently at Buck. “And I was terrified of how I felt about you, Buck - because we were together for one summer, and somehow you’re all I’ve ever wanted since.”

“Eddie.” Buck didn’t know what to say - how to react.

“I know I can’t fix everything with a few nice words and an apology, Buck,” Eddie said, moving his hand, the bandage on his wrist visible for the first time. “But I’m here - for good, this time. So, I - uh, if you’d have me, Evan, I’d like to take you on a date. A real first date, this time - with dinner and drinks and not in the back of my truck.”

Buck couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I seem to remember us having a lot of fun in the back of your truck, that summer,” he teased, enjoying the way Eddie’s face flushed the most delightful shade of pink. “Eddie - I’m not the same person I was, ten years ago.”

“Neither am I,” Eddie reassured. “But I’m excited to get to know the person you are now, Buck. No - no stress, no expectations. Just me and you.”

And, well -

Maybe Buck didn’t hate September all that much, anymore.

send me a pairing & an au setting and i’ll write you a mini fic

[midnightwinterhawk]

I put together a little collection of Sterek and Steter fics for funsies. “Just a few fics”, I thought, “nothing too crazy.” Thirty fics later I had to cut myself off and finalize the list. You can thank @the-cookie-of-doom​ for the inspiration. 

These primarily fall under the Hurt Stiles Stilinski category because I apparently like to see my comfort characters suffer. Most of these have hopeful/happy endings but mind the tags. For reals.

Placed under a cut since I have no self control and this turned into a long post.

Sterek

adore to see your eyes fly by @1001cranes

(11,309 l E)

stiles is a pyromaniac, derek is a sociopath. a match made in some kind of heaven. teen wolf kink meme fill.

take my heart from me by @areiton

(23,188 l NR)

He didn't really mean to adopt Derek's pack of puppies. He didn't mean to make himself important to them.

To Derek.

He just wanted to keep them all safe.

That's all Stiles ever wanted.

"Why Can't You?" by @asterekmess

(3,602 l T)

Now. This was happening now, and he couldn’t be less prepared.

-

After a long night, things between Stiles and his father come to a head.

And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi

(30,314 l E)

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

A Victory March by @churkey

(2,688 l T)

When Stiles is eight he learns that nothing will be the same. His dad comes home one day after work and sits Stiles down for a talk. He explains that werewolves and all the monsters are real.

They're real and not hiding under anyone's bed.

Bury the Moon by darthjamtart

(16,592 l M)

First things get bad. Then they get worse. Stiles doesn’t know what he’s sacrificed until it’s too late.

Dying is the easy part.

Love's Violent Delights by @dexterous-sinistrous

(10,685 l E)

Derek caught the way the man’s eyes looked over Stiles before lingering on his ass. He waited for the clerk to place the key on the counter before he reacted.

Stiles startled at the loud noise, turning away from the pamphlets in the display box to see Derek pinning the clerk’s head against the counter. He drew in an even breath, looking between the struggling man and Derek.

Derek briefly looked at Stiles, hesitating before he saw the gleam of excitement in Stiles’ eyes and the hint of lust in his scent. “Ever look at him, or any other Omega, like that again, and I’ll slice your eyes out with my claws.” He shoved the man back, not caring of the commotion that was made as he snatched up the key from the counter.

Empty by @discontentedwinter

(48,034 l M)

Jordan Parrish is the new sheriff of Beacon Hills, a town haunted by its past.

Your Vision Borrows Mine by hazyascent

(188,781 l E)

Stiles has encountered a fair share of monsters before, way out of his league - the kinds that children are afraid are hiding in their closets and under the bed.

He’d even become one himself when he was void. The nogitsune was in his house, his body, and his mind.

But the worst monster he’s ever faced took even more from him and got away with it.

It’s why Stiles has never really been as terrified of werewolves and kanimas and darachs as he should have been. They’re really not that scary, relatively speaking, and he has a whole team on his side. They always found a way to win - until they lost someone they really loved.

Stiles doesn’t know how to be normal, not after everything he’s done and everyone he’s hurt. The nogitsune is gone, but another monster is on its heels.

His uncle is back. And Stiles has never felt more alone.

It Was a Wednesday by @isthatbloodonhisshirt

(80,129 l M)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”

Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.

Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.

“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.

“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

Tiny Houses by @ohmyjetsabel-blog

(77,183 l E)

"So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.

God, he dreams.

He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."

I'm There in the Water by @spaceprincessem

(15,878 l T)

“But it’s—” Derek paused, his words unsure, “it’s not like us,” he swallows hard, chin dipping to his chest in frustration, “it’s like a…”

“An abomination,” Stiles finished, nodding his head as he finally lets his gaze really look at Derek since Scott had pulled them from the water.

He suddenly wished he hadn’t because the way Derek looks at him makes Stiles feel like he is ten years old again. Like Derek is seeing him for the first time since they accidentally fell into each other’s orbit all those years ago. Like Stiles isn’t a burden or invisible.

Like he is enough.

Or five times Stiles felt like he was drowning and the one time he finally caught his breath

Gunplay is Not Really Our Kink by theroguesgambit

(2,577 l M)

“The rules to the game are simple. One bullet, six chances. You pick it up and take turns pulling the trigger on the other man, or we gun you both down right now. You play along, only one of you has to die. Fun game, huh?”

--

Derek and Stiles are captured by a group of hunters and forced to play a twisted game that only one of them might walk away from.

The Price by theroguesgambit

(18,452 l M)

Stiles must surrender the most important thing in his life to protect the town… and no one can figure out what it was.

Nieważny by Zethsaire

(2,037 l E)

The pack is gone, everything they've ever cared for destroyed. Now Stiles and Derek hunt the hunters, taking revenge in the only way they know how; blood.

Steter

Make Me Bleed by @asarcasticwitch

(2,304 l E)

Peter’s expression contorts, impressed or surprised, Stiles can't decipher, but the grin on his face proves he’s not exactly disappointed with the unexpected turn of events.

“Which bite exactly were you hoping for, hm?” The older man curls one hand around the back of Stiles’s neck, trailing his thumb along his pale, fragile throat.

Stiles tilts his head back in unyielding submission, giving the wolf no room to debate his sincerity. “I’m sure you can figure it out, Alpha.

Two Roads Converge in a Graveyard Town by @cywscross

(15,645 l T)

The Deadpool brings one more assassin to Beacon Hills. A man's gotta eat after all.

when you're going through hell (keep going for me) by cywscross

(57,022 l T)

Peter is abandoned in the aftermath of the fire, and Eichen House takes ruthless advantage. Six years later, when he's finally able to move again, he finds himself in a cell with a boy in a straitjacket.

(Kate’s biggest mistake was letting Peter live. Eichen House’s biggest mistake was letting Peter meet Stiles.)

Don't Fail Me Now by @discontentedwinter​

(36,315 l E)

Stiles goes to Derek looking for help.

He finds Peter instead.

Peter takes what he's wanted for a very long time.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

(56,525 l M)

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Bite Down by EclipseWing (@shadow-of-the-eclipse)

(27,586 l M)

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

Into Eden by @graciebirdie

(12,232 l M)

Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he'd hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn't turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.

Before you let go (and the light takes you in) by Issay

(4,032 l E)

Stiles makes one last errand - goes to leave flowers on all the other graves. Fuck, so many graves. The grief is as endless and as inescapable as the sky.

He goes home and there is a thing wearing his father's face, waiting for him in the kitchen.

Call My Name by KouriArashi ( @gingersnapwolves )

(81,370 l M)

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Hide my tears in the rain. by MrsRidcully

(6,865 l M)

After  years spent successfully dodging werewolves, evil spirits and wendigos,  it was a drunk driver who stole his Dad, a drunk driver with a  suspended license and a record sheet as long as Stiles’s arm. Stiles  would have laughed at the irony if he hadn’t been so busy screaming.

In My Veins Like Disease by romanoffbarton

(1,140 l T)

He tries to leave once.

Foreshock by @twothumbsandnostakeincanon

(22,816 l E)

The day Stiles’ mom died, he almost leveled his house.

Not on purpose. Not even by mistake, really. More by instinct.

Since then he's dug his fingers into everything his has left, holding on with desperation.

Desperation never stopped an earthquake.

Your Touch is My Choice by twothumbsandnostakeincanon

(2,171 l T)

The first time John does it, Stiles is two years old and about to run into the road.

“Mieczysław!” Heart pounding, John grabbed him by the back of his neck and got a hand around his tummy, snatching him back. “No, you have to stay away from the road,” he said firmly.

Shameful Company by Whispering_Sumire (@whispering-sumire755)

(38,779 l E)

"Did I turn into a unicorn?" Peter asks dryly, and Stiles glares at him for a moment before the laughter bubbles up, unbidden, nearly unwilling, and he looks so surprised at the sound, his shock dimming it for a moment before it bursts through with even more trembling ferocity. A long, thin, willowy hand curls into a soft fist over his mouth, and he's shaking, frail, more tears falling, but the copper of his eyes are glowing, crinkling around the edges and scrunched with mirth.

"No," Stiles chokes, chuckling wetly. "No, fuck you, a unicorn? What, like, Rainbowcreep? Zombiesparkle?"

[About a year before the fated Hale fire, Peter starts having nightmares that involve a woman with red hair. The nightmares lead to a spell that brings a man back through time, and, eventually, though the time-traveler is traumatized in the most horrific ways, and Peter's never been good with or for people, in general, they develop a bond that neither of them expects.]

Would You Forgive Me If I Called You Hope, Peter Hale? (Hope, By Any Other Name) by Whispering_Sumire

(10,099 l T)

Stiles has scars. He owns that, he accepts it, he's cataloged and memorized every single one, he's hyper fucking aware of them all.

//

"What do you want, Peter?" Having the more untrustworthy of the Pack getting protective weirds him the fuck out, leaves an odd fluttering in his chest, like moths, waiting perilously and suicidally to be burned.

He doesn't like it.

"You're injured," the man says, "and whatever it is, it's put you in enough pain that I nearly fainted when I-"

"- Used your werewolf mojo on me without my permission?" Stiles smirks, and Peter gives him a black look, crossing a leg over his knee and smoothing out some invisible wrinkle on his pants.

"Tell me the truth Stiles, how bad is it?"

[Or: The one where Stiles has scars, is more than a little fucked up, and Peter notices. He helps.]

[pinkmirth]

can i req some dad reiner fluff? i feel like he would have a lot of kids bc of the breeding kink 🥴 but yeah just some cute stuff pls thank uuuu!!

THE THOUGHT OF REINER BEING FATHER JUST DOES SOMETHING TO ME I- AJHSJS

THANK YOU SM FOR REQUESTING, ANON!! LET'S GET CAUGHT UP IN THE REINER BRAINROT TOGETHER <3

═════════°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═════════

—DAD REINER!

 (MODERN AU + MENTIONS OF PREGNANCY + FEMALE BODIED READER + FLUFF + SLIGHTLY SUGGESTIVE + REINER BEING THE BEST DAD EVER DUH + TW: SLIGHT LANGUAGE)

═════════°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═════════

Dad Reiner who was such a hot mess moments before he became a father to begin with. The pair of you are situated inside a hospital room, occupied with things much bigger than a sprained ankle. He stood alongside you, his beloved, all the while; Encouraging your efforts and attempting to ease your pain with the squeeze of your hand within his bigger one. As fretful as he feels, it's no surprise that Reiner ends up passing out a good few times, and he wasn't even the one in labor. Though, the hard part is now over, and all his worry has subsided.

Dad Reiner who recalls whimpering, weakly grinning, and eventually bawling of joy when holding his child for the first time. You'd never seen his cries mingled with such joy before. He cradles yours and his newborn within firm forearms and large, mindful hands. The pair of you sob and smile, ogle your baby with a relieved, content thrum in your heart. You allow Reiner to attempt squeezing into the hospital bed beside you, as broad and weighty as he is, with your child being held right between you and him. He’s a hot mess, but an overjoyed one who has you; and little Reiner x [Y/N] junior 🥺

Dad Reiner who converses with you for days before ultimately deciding on a name for yours and his daughter— Joyce Braun. He contemplated on “Karina”, the name of his dear mother. Though, he wants his little girl to be better than any past generation, and rather goes with a more revitalizing name, one that holds a simple, but deep meaning in his perspective. As obvious as it sounds, the name means “Joyful”. That's all he wants; for his kid to be happy in this life, happier than he ever was. Therefore, he bases her name, the root of his dear child’s identity, on cheerfulness.

Dad Reiner who tends to grow somewhat frustrated. Not with you of course, not even with Joyce’s incessant wailing in the early hours of the morning, but with himself. It wasn't as though he did anything wrong, he simply hopes that he won't. Begs himself not to fuck up with this whole “Parent” thing. If it wasn’t clear enough, Reiner wants to be nothing like his own father. He’ll never, ever shoo his child away and disregard them, but instead use those same hands to hold, guide, and lift them up. It doesn't take long for the blonde to snap out of his funk, because he's sure that he can become all the better for the sake of his little family.

Dad Reiner who wakes to your still, ethereal-like form every morning, and it's enough to make his day. A kiss to your neck, a nibble along your earlobe, and a couple repetitive rubs to your waist and thighs are enough to stir you right awake. And if that isn't the case, then it's usually the other way around; You pressing soft, lengthy kisses to his sharp, attractive cheekbones. Despite who arises first, there’s always one thing that's bound to happen— Joyce making her arrival into the bedroom via crawl, with a babble and a cute, happy little shriek upon seeing her parents.

The pair of you have no clue as to how she manages to make her way over to your room every time, but you're simply glad that she does so safely. It's Reiner’s cue to leap out of bed and scoop her off of the carpet and into his awaiting arms, clad in nothing but a white tee and the baggiest sweats. He appears disheveled, but it's still clear to see the main striking similarity between him and his pretty little daughter; Those amber brown eyes that hold the same warm, yellowish hue as his do.

He rocks the giggling one-year old, back and forth and right back again, gazing upon his squirming bundle of joy until you mention that he’s been doing so for a whole ten minutes. He grows sheepish and merely chuckles in reply, resting Joyce’s head upon his firm chest with a sigh. He could do this for ten hours more if it were up to him.

Dad Reiner who knocked you up a couple more times, and real damn good at that. There’s something of a breeding fetish that he’s got on him, which is the reason why your little family is now two kids larger. There’s Joyce, who’s now seven years old, along with her two baby brothers, the pair being a mere one year apart from the other. You and Reiner no longer have to worry about checking on Joyce in her crib, for she sleeps on her own bed now, like the “big girl” she claims to be.

Though, the boys now have you both occupied, and you’re lucky to have an older daughter who’s so understanding and rarely ever  grows jealous. Joyce, your girl who’s on more of the rambunctious side but ironically never pleads for attention, has been spending much more quality time with Reiner. Both you and him are busy with the boys, but the blonde tends to have free time on his hands every now and then. Besides, someone’s got to keep Joyce company.

Reiner happily obliges, and makes this father-daughter time worthwhile. Wholesome picnics to the park that always end in races back to the car and Reiner being a damned klutz and dropping his sandwich. Having a “spa day”, filled with Reiner’s not-so-great attempts at doing his girl’s hair, messy manicures and a hefty bag of makeup that Joyce “borrowed” from you. He spoils the girl as if the lot of you are rich (and since Reiner’s always got a hefty load of spare cash, you technically are), but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dad Reiner who’s a lot more used to this “dad” thing now, since it’s been a couple good years down the line. You and him have amazing bonds with each of your kids, but they seem to latch onto Reiner’s large, broad body at any given time a lot more than they do you. Joyce is twelve, the brothers are five and six, and Reiner’s officially a DILF— The finest one at that. His stubble stays nicely trimmed, along with the subtle creases at his eyes becoming a little more distinctive. Goes to work, and sometimes takes the kid’s lunches instead of his own, because that's just the Reiner Way.

He’s the ultimate father in practically every situation, even when looking out for peers and comrades. He doesn’t mean to, it’s just that habits easily stick with Reiner, and it’s rather difficult for him to let them go. Besides, with three kids, how do you expect him to not be in “dad mode”?

Dad Reiner who utterly loves having random little talks with his kids, and never invalidates them, not for one second. It’s almost as though he can see things in their perspective, and they don’t know anyone else better to vent to other than their dad and mom. Though, when they tend to babble on about something that’s rather popular within their generation, it gets hard for him to catch up. They proceed to call him “old” and receive a good chase around the house before they get caught and looped into a tickle attack, and that's basically the worst thing imaginable if you’re in the Braun family. The reason being is Reiner’s unparalleled speed, despite his age; Thirties to early forties, but he’s still extremely fit, and has no problem running a mile if he has to.

Dad Reiner who’s in love with his family and the person they’ve gradually helped him become. You cherish him and your kids like none other, and he does the same. Sometimes it abruptly dawns on him; He’s a dad, and he’s actually a good one, who would’ve known? He smiles to himself, allowing his amber eyes to flit over to wherever you are before his soft grin grows wider. You look back, blow a kiss, and he does the same. The action is exchanged before he strides over to give you the real deal— Though, your sweet little peck is all cut short when Joyce and the boys skip in and start making kissy noises, with you and Reiner laughing all the while.

═════════°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═════════

“Papa,” Gale, the youngest son of the bunch, calls aloud and gains his father’s attention. Reiner peers up from his book and gives a brief, questioning response. “Yes, dove?” It’s a simple, sweet nickname; One that he calls you, Joyce, and the boys.

“Mommy’s in the bathroom crying.” The blonde drops his novel with an punctuating hitch of his breath, the book falling upon the couch with a dull thump. “—Why? Is she alright?” Reiner, the man who generally keeps himself rather poised, is now frantic, sharp brows downturned at his son's statement.

“Uh, I dunno. She’s crying, but smiling too.” This then causes Reiner’s brows to furrow. “Smiling, you say?”

“Yeah. Can we go out to get ice cream today? I wanna get, uh.. Chocolate chip, please!”

Reiner lets a brief laugh slip loose at Gale’s query, but he has to prioritize his wife over a summertime snack. He then begins to make a beeline towards the bathroom, in search of you. “Soon enough, dove. I’ve got to go up there and check on your momma first, alright—?”

Gale then shrugs and hops onto the couch, little feet padding along the spacey seat as the leather creases underneath his weight.

“By the way, Papa,” Reiner then pauses, open to any vital information his son could give, “she has this funny stick thingy in her hand. It’s got two little lines on it and stuff.”

Reiner chokes on his breath, lower lip beginning to tremble and quirk into a smile. If the case is what he thinks it is, he’s got all the reason to bust out with the teary eyes and jovial whimpers, just as he did when receiving the news of his three expected children in the past.

“A stick..?”

“Mhm,” hums Gale, proceeding to jump upon the dark brown couch, “Mama probably wants some chocolate chip ice cream too.”

═════════°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═════════

[revengeisourlullaby]

If I Never Knew You Pt.1

Pt.2   Pt.3   Pt.4   Pt.5   Pt.6

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, arranged marriage plot, kinda royal au, some fighting, secret relationship, angst.

a/n: This is going to be a six part series. I’ve never done a series before, but I write so much anyway I thought why not make one. I’ll probably upload each part daily unless there is demand for them to come faster. I hope you enjoy. Requests/asks will be open if you wanna send smth to me! Although I will admit I am kinda slow in finishing requests. I have a lot to balance in my life so my apologies if I don’t get to them immediately!  

Word count: 1.8K

Loki x female!reader 

The sun shone through the window of your home, the golden rays warming up your cheeks and waking you from your slumber. Sitting up, you stretched, feeling the sleep vibrate out of your body. Tossing the sheets off your body, you swung your legs out of the bed and walked to the bathroom to begin your morning routine. Finishing with tending to the mass of hair on your head you trailed back into your bedroom to change into clothes appropriate for the day. An array of dresses always leaving you indecisive about what to wear.

Settling on an olive green one you walked towards the mirror and fastened the ties around the back of your neck. The loose sleeves draped over your shoulders, cascading down your back, and gold accents adorning the neckline. Finding your shoes, you slipped out of your bedroom, closing the door behind you, and walked down the hallway, the chatter of your family becoming more clear as you near the entrance of the main room. 

 “Good morning, mother. Father.”

It seemed you had slept in quite a bit, given your parents already eating breakfast. Your mother piped up

“There’s a portion left for you on the counter, my dear.”

Eying the food you decided you weren’t all that hungry yet. You had just woken up and your body had yet to settle. Declining, you grabbed your satchel and began to walk towards the door.

“But Y/N, you should really eat something before starting your day.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom. I promise. I’m just not that hungry right now. I’ll eat when I get back.”

Finally reaching the door, your father chimed in,

“You know, Y/N, just because you try to avoid the obvious, doesn’t mean it’s going to go away any sooner.”

Dropping your head, you sighed. You couldn’t seem to escape the duties of being a young woman in a world where royal obligations were something you were expected to partake in. Upon reaching the age of 18, you were supposed to be on the lookout for a decent suitor of a husband. The fact of the matter was, you were now approaching 22 and had yet to find someone acceptable, not only by your standards but by your parents. 

For this uniting of peoples would also be a uniting of families. You had until your 21st birthday to find a man suitable to everyone's liking and if you didn’t, arranged marriage was the next option. No one wanted to be known as the woman in Asgard who couldn’t get a man to offer his hand in marriage, yet here you were in all your glory. It was frustrating. 

If only they knew. 

“I know, Dad. Things are a little bit harder when I have to seek my parents' approval for my marriage.”

Your tone became short, frustrated at the entire situation. You already had someone, for a while now actually, but you hadn’t the guts to inform your parents because you knew they would shut him down. So you loved in silence. It was more than painful, not being able to be truly open with your lover, but you had yet to find the right time to pour out your heart to your family. Taking a deep breath, your grounded yourself and turned towards the door,

“I’ll be back later, I love you.”

Your mom got to responding before your father did,

“We love you too dear. Make sure to pay attention to who you’re around. Be safe.”

Smiling lightly you finally walked out the door and stepped into the fresh air that was Asgard. It never got old. The scent of the trees and freshwater that surrounded this place sent one into such serenity. Just being outside could allow your mind to drift elsewhere and forget about the troubles in your life. Walking as far as you could from your home you spaced out in the direction you were going. 

Coming back to when you accidentally kicked a pebble across the ground. Looking up you found yourself in one of the many gardens that surrounded Asgard. Walking to a marble bench, you scrunched up some of your dress in your hands, folding one leg under you before sitting atop it. Crossing your other leg across it and letting the fabric of your dress fall to the ground. 

Pulling your satchel into your lap, you grabbed your journal out of it and began to sketch the garden in front of you. Paying special attention to the detail of the flowers, wanting to make sure you entirely captured the essence of their beauty on paper. Lost in concentration, you failed to hear the footsteps approaching behind you. It wasn’t until you felt a hand rub small circles into your shoulder that you turned around. 

Hair fell in your face, obscuring your view of who was in front of you. Bringing your hand up to place your hair away from your face you dropped your pen on the ground. You went to reach for it, but a separate pair of hands grabbed it first.

“You seem to be quite the mess today, my darling.”

A genuine smile stretched across your features before looking up into the enchanting blue of his eyes. 

“Loki, hi! What are you doing out here?”

Sitting down next to you, careful to avoid your dress he spoke,

“Well, I was informed that a beautiful lady was sitting in the garden in front of the palace so of course, I had to go inspect the situation. And upon seeing a stunning shade of green draped over the bench, I had to introduce myself.” 

An airy laugh left your throat, blithe being showcased across your being.

“If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you fancy this beautiful woman.”

“How could I not? Her beauty extends beyond the physical. She's incredibly intelligent and the only one to unconditionally show kindness and love to those who deserve it. It’d be incredibly injudicious of me to not be aware of that.”

“Alright, alright Loki, you’ve buttered me up enough.” you chuckled

“It’s never enough, darling. And it’s not buttering you up if it’s true, which it is. So, against your wishes, I shall continue to do it.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. Looking down at his hands, you placed yours on top of his and gazed into his eyes once more. Glancing down to his lips and back up to his eyes, you slowly leaned in, Loki meeting you halfway. A kiss so tender you forgot it was Loki whose lips were tangled in a dance with your own. 

Loki moved his hand out from underneath yours and placed it on your cheek. You pulled away from the kiss and nestled your head into his hand, his thumb caressing your cheek allowing you to relish in the moment of being with each other. Flashing your eyes back up to his you asked,

“Shall we go for a walk?”

“Why not?”

Stuffing your journal and pen back into your satchel you untangled your legs and got up from the bench, Loki helping you stand up so that you didn’t trip on your dress. Taking your hand in his own, you two walked through the garden on a path that would eventually lead you to the entrance of the palace. 

“I’ve missed you Loki. I always miss you, I hate being away from you.”

“I know my love, I do as well, but you of all people know our predicament.”

You stopped in your tracks and turned in haste to stop him as well, making him face you. You brought both your hands up to cup his face, an idea flashing bright behind your eyes,

“Well, maybe we can change it! We can be the change to get rid of this stupid rule. I can’t imagine my life without you Loki. I don’t want to have to share my world with someone else. It’s only ever going to be you.” 

Bringing his hands up to your wrists, he looked deep into your eyes, sorrow and hope swimming behind his facial features. 

“Maybe we can, although we have to prepare for the worst...but that doesn't mean we can’t try.”

Giving a small smile, he moved his hands to the back of your head, thumb caressing your temple, and leaned in to kiss you. Giving you all the reassurance you could’ve asked for. Pulling away from each other you continued down the path hand in hand. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, serenity washing over you. 

Opening your eyes, you realized you were closing in on the front of the palace meaning you would now be in the public eye and the last thing you wanted was more gossip to fall upon you. Looking at your lover, you stopped walking, halting him in his tracks. Forcing him to turn around and look at you.

“What is it?”

You sighed, suddenly being overcome with emotion.

“Well, if we walked any further, everyone would see us and I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble for you…”

“...Trouble? For me?”

Loki scoffed, his signature smirk following.

“Love, all I’m known for is for causing trouble, I wouldn’t mind another notch on my belt.”

You were hesitant. You loved Loki and you knew your feelings were reciprocated through him, but it was difficult breaking from the chains of what you ‘were supposed to do’. It left you in such dissonance and yet you felt in your heart to rebel so fiercely that Asgard would immortalize your change. Your silence alerted Loki and he spoke again,

“Y/N, if we are to ever make any sort of change we cannot hide in the shadows anymore. We cannot separate and scatter like roaches when the light is shined upon us. We must bask in it. That is the only way we can possibly aspire to reach our goal of loving one another in true fulfillment.”

“You’re right.”

“I always am.”

You placed your hand back in his and Loki smiled down at you. 

“Ready to have the target on your back, Y/N?”

“As long as you’re by my side, I can handle anything.”

Walking out of the secluded area of the garden, you finally stepped into the light. For the first time in the last year being open about your courtship with Loki. Asgard’s God of Mischief and your parent’s worst nightmare. You felt armored for anything to be hurled in your direction with Loki was by your side and always would be. 

The anxiety of it all had yet to drain from your bones and you couldn’t help but draft up ‘what ifs’ in your head. As if Loki was scavenging through your brain, he gave your hand an inspiriting squeeze, bringing you back into your body and out of your head. If only you knew how the whispers of your choice in partnership would rain the fires of hell all too soon.

[sunjaesol]

My BFB is the one for me!

juke | human!au + brother!reggie | title from BFB // victorious

If someone had to ask her who the one constant in her life was, she would have to say Luke Patterson. Which was depressing, cause the guy went through life pretending to be a 90s heartthrob and, even worse, that list didn't even include her own mother. 

Julie met Luke when she was five and he was six. Her brother Reggie befriended him on the first day of school and the rest was history. "Soul-brothers" they called themselves, which would be cute if they weren't so obnoxious together. Separate, they were somewhat manageable. Put those two in the same room? Chaos would ensue. 

He was there for it all. Weekly play dates, birthdays, the occasional holiday, her mom's funeral, band rehearsals. And when Luke had a month-long falling out with his parents, he stayed with them. 

Realistically, that should make him seem like a brother to Julie. But neither Carlos or Reggie were as infuriating as Luke was! With the stupid band tees and the stupid smile and the stupid, relentless teasing he lovingly bestowed upon her. She lost count how many times he "poisoned" her soda with salt or woke her with a heart attack by playing his electric guitar. At least she had some grip on her brothers, being their only sister, but Luke… 

Luke and her had this interesting, little relationship that she couldn't quite put her finger on and it unnerved her. Like it was an itch she couldn't scratch. (Or maybe he was just an annoying mosquito buzzing around her and should leave her the fuck alone. Probably.)

Hopping down the stairs for her midnight snack, it was no surprise to her to find the idiot gaping into the fridge like a goon. With a nudge of the hip, she pushed him aside. 

'Hey!' 

'Either pick something or save power,' she retorted, grabbing a bowl of grapes. 

He snorted. 'I don't think my indecisiveness is gonna kill the planet.'

She shot him a look, an amused smile tugging on her lips. 'You wanna say that in the cute face of a polar bear?' 

Luke stared at her for a beat, a smile crawling on his own face and shaking his head with a chuckle. The fridge fell shut with the pride of a won argument swelling in her chest. 

'So why're you still up?', he asked as she flitted around him for the bread and peanut butter. Maybe she could sneak up a butterscotch cookie too - her dad won't notice one missing, right? 

Unscrewing the lid, she sighed. 'Mendoza's class is murdering me. I really don't get why we need to learn calculus. We're an arts school, not like any of us are going to use formulas on the set of a movie.'

When she passed him to get the orange juice from the fridge, he took hold of the jar, sliding it between his hands thoughtfully. 

'Just don't overthink it,' he shrugged. 

She rolled her eyes. 'Easy for you, obviously.'

His mouth fell slack, offended, as Julie put the bottle on the island with mirth glimmering in her expression. After years of sparring with Luke, she knew how to press his buttons and took great joy in doing so. 

Suddenly leaning into her personal bubble, he sputtered. 'Are you… calling me dumb?' 

Her hand pushed his face back with a scoff. 'Don't breathe on me. All I'm saying is that you look like you have elevator music playing up there 24/7.'

When she went to grab the jar from his hand, he moved it away. 

'Uh, I think you're mistaking me for your brother.'

'No-' Tried again, moved away. '-I don't think I do.'

'You do.'

She crossed her arms, resolute. 'He's part of the gifted program.'

It unfazed him. 'Yeah. And it means shit.'

She held her palm up, exasperated. 'Just give me the peanut butter, Luke.'

Raising it over his head with an infuriating smirk, the other tugged on a curl. 'No.'

Gah! He was so dead! Did he forget she lived with three men in this house?!

Without a second of hesitation, Julie barrelled into him and jumped to catch it. Luke snatched her wrist before she could with a laugh, a hitched puff coming right after as her elbow jabbed his ribs. 

He set the jar down at lightning speed and grabbed her other wrist. Both their arms were outstretched as her foot kicked his calf, hard. When he yelped, her left hand loosened and dove for the jar. Right as her fingertips grazed the glass, a strong arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back. An "oof!" left her lips, the breath kicked out of her lungs. 

Luke guffawed in her ear victoriously, whooping the house together. Curse words rolled off her tongue as she repeatedly slapped his forearm to let go. She felt embarrassingly small with her feet hovering above the floor and this power dynamic was not doing it for her confidence. 

'The fuck are you doing?' 

Julie smacked to the floor before the last words were uttered, a flabbergasted Reggie staring at the pair. 

Luke stammered. 'Uh…' 

'Your bestie held the peanut butter hostage,' Julie replied sardonically. 'Did dad wake up?' 

He shook his head, a peculiar expression fixed on Luke. Her gaze shot between the two. Were they having… a silent conversation? With the way their brows quirked an lips twitched, it seemed like some "bro-talk" Julie wouldn't even like to understand. 

'Don't break your head too much over Mendoza, okay?' Reggie added, smiling at her this time. 'Just relax.'

She sighed. Relax. Because the fear of failure got eradicated with the snap of a finger if she just relaxed. 'Yeah. Sure.'

The boys finally left, silence descended, and Julie made her sandwich. For some reason, the quietude made her uncomfortable. 

***

Though Luke was annoying at times, the band he was in - Sunset Curve - definitely wasn't. Reggie, Alex and Luke created it when they were thirteen and overzealous. Reggie and Luke met Alex the same year and bullied him into a friendship, all bonding over cliché lyrics and overused chord progressions. They quickly got better though, earning a small following and a hopeful future in the LA scene. Julie was very proud of her brother. All those hours practicing the bass until his fingers bled was finally paying off with each new gig they rocked. 

And as the Molina's were raised to appreciate good music, Julie often found herself sprawled on the leather couch as they rehearsed. Reggie used to hate it, saying she was being "sticky" and "distracting", but eventually found her useful whenever they needed someone to bounce ideas with. She has co-written many of their songs. It was then that Luke was the least annoying, when he was so entranced and passionate about music that he had no time to pester her. 

(If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that song-writing with Luke was when she felt like herself the most, enjoyed life the most. But Luke was stupid and she definitely didn't feel a vibe when they wrote, so honesty was obsolete.)

'Or else you'll get,' Luke growled in the mic, music crashing together in their signature punk-rock sound. 'Crooked teeth!' 

They shot into an electrifying interlude. Alex headbanging the sweat of his forehead from his fast-paced drumming, Reggie bouncing in his heels as he heightened the bassline and Luke… was being Luke. Julie looked up from her laptop as his strumming came closer, that signature grin fixed on her as his fingers expertly glided across the neck. Her typing paused, amused. 

Why was he so adamant about "impressing" her with a riff? He knew she liked their music (and has caught her looking at his hands… ugh, fourteen year old Julie had bad judgement), he didn't have to prove himself or something. 

She smiled. 'You're going to miss your cue, idiot!' 

Ignoring her exclaim, he bobbed his head to the melody and wiggled his brows. Her eyes drifted to Alex, the blonde staring at Reggie and Reggie staring at the back of Luke's head. This has been happening a lot, Julie realised. There was this weird energy whenever they were all in the same room. For a bit, she thought it was her that was the problem, but if she was, Reggie would've told her by now. 

Now Luke was really in her face, pushing her laptop shut with his knee and making those stupid expressions he pulled whenever Grace talked to him in the hallway. Never one to back down, Julie abruptly stood up and pushed him back with a challenging smirk. The boy was seventeen; he was in serious trouble if he lacked the spatial awareness and common sense. 

‘Sing with us?!’, he pleaded over the crash of the cymbal. Behind him, Alex’ brows went so far up it disappeared into his snapback. A nervous tug knotted in her stomach at his request, like she was afraid to disappoint him, and shook her head. Keeping up the attitude she nodded at the laptop he so valiantly closed for her. 

Pulling it against her chest, she pointed at his bandmates. ‘Go sing about some fucked up teeth more!’

‘Crooked teeth!’, they all yelled in annoyance. Proud to have executed her role an irritating, little sister, she hopped out the studio. If she felt someone’s gaze burning in her back, she must’ve imagined it.  

***

There was something to be said about Grace and Luke. Though it wasn’t Julie’s business (or anyone’s, for that matter), the coupling has always intrigued her. Or lack of coupling, really. Every few months they’d find themselves at each other’s lockers flirting up a storm for everyone to see to then ghost each other again. This vicious cycle has been on loop since sophomore year. Julie felt bad for Grace, the pretty senior girl deserved far better than Luke. 

Last night, Julie couldn’t sleep. ���Crooked Teeth” was blaring in her mind and haunted her dreams (and Luke’s stupid face) until she woke up in a sweat. Something was off. Like solving a math question and knowing the result is wrong but unsure where it all went wrong. Around four in the morning, it hit her. The bridge! It was all jumbled and clunky and she had far better ideas on how to craft it! She sat at her keyboard until seven in the morning, only to stop when a frustrated Carlos barged in, threw a pillow at her and yelled to “zip it!” Reggie and dad, naturally, slept through all of it. 

Now, a sleep-deprived, caffeinated and kind of manic Julie was bustling through the hallways trying (and failing) to find Luke. Sure, they butted heads a lot, but music has always been the glue. Temporary glue, but the fact remained that she and Luke were cut from the same cloth when it came to composition and lyrical prowess. (Not that she’d ever admit that. Ew. His ego was large enough as is.) 

And then she saw him. At Grace’s locker. Her breath lodged in her throat at the sight. It shouldn’t. God, it truly shouldn’t. But it did. Because Grace was pretty and Luke had one of those faces and they looked good together and it annoyed the fuck out of her. Like, who decided who went through puberty better. Julie knew she wasn’t unattractive, but she wasn’t Grace either. Tall and lithe and glossy black hair and a perfect nose. The ugly, green monster in the back of her head snarled about how her personality was probably off-putting, though Julie knew that to be untrue. Grace was, well, graceful. Genuinely kind. Gah! Since when did Julie hate on other girls? Pushing the voice down, she mustered back the previous excitement (the! bridge!) and paraded towards the pair. Luke saw her before Grace did.       

She rushed the last few steps and hastily grabbed the papers from the side pocket of her backpack. 'Luke! Hi, Grace. Okay, I know "Crooked Teeth" is finished, but I couldn't stop thinking about it and I had this amazing idea for the bridge.'

When he didn't react for a beat, stunned by her giddy attitude, her smile mellowed awkwardly. 'I mean… it's your song. You don't have to-' 

'No!', he shouted, frantic. Her brows raised in surprise. 'No, uh-' His hand flew to the back of his head, raking the ends of his hair. 'Yeah. D'you wanna go to the music room? To show me?'

Julie’s eyes flitted to a confused Grace. ‘Um…’

Luke caught on and shot the girl an easy grin. ‘Talk to you later, yeah?’ 

She shrugged. ‘I guess?’

Before she could say anything more, Luke snatched Julie by the wrist and dragged her to the nearest, open music room. The arts school was littered with them, though most had a reserved schedule. Luckily, one was empty. 

‘Okay,’ she said, tucking her hair behind her ears as she slid down in front of the piano. Luke sat next to her, expectant. ‘The bridge right now? It’s fine, but it’s not “wow”, you know? I was thinking about how the verses and chorus sound so visceral and loud, so the bridge should have something guttural. Like, primal. That’s a weird word to use, but, I don’t know, have it sound dangerous? Like - why’re you looking at me like that?’

A strange expression was plastered on Luke’s face. A half-grin and wide eyes, like he was scared he’d miss something, like he’d blink and she’d disappear. In other words: he looked insane. Then again, her exhaustion mustn’t look too appealing either. 

He shook his head, that smile falling away for something more timid. All the bravado he oozed while talking to Grace just moments before, was gone for shy eyes and fingers gripping the chain around his jeans. 

‘Nothing.’ He nudged her. ‘You kinda ambushed me here, Molina.’

Her words stuttered out. ‘I- I was just-’ Zeroing back on the keys with a frown, she said: ‘I’ll just play you the bridge.’

As she did, her mind was elsewhere. This wasn’t weird, right? They’ve done this before. Collaborated, gone to music rooms to bounce ideas back and forth, played until dusk. She knew it wasn’t weird. It was always just a matter of time before the next “ambush” came, as he put it. Soon, he’d barge into her room with half a melody and forced her to finish it. This was normal.

Then why did her skin ripple with anticipation from his intense gaze directed on her temple? 

When she finished, she kept her eyes on the keys. Suddenly, his hand appeared in her vision and softly patted her knuckles, urging her to look at him anyway. He had that strange look again, the sight letting the most peculiar feeling rush through her veins.   

Luke smiled. ‘I like it.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Wanna play it for the boys during next rehearsal?’ His brows raised with hope, head leaning her way as if he wasn’t already close enough. And he wasn’t close enough. 

Julie went on autopilot at this point, too enthralled by her emotions running wild. ‘Yeah.’ It came out breathy and foolish and if she had half a brain cell right now, she’d kick herself in the face for how dumb she sounded.  

His hand squeezed hers and then let go, that smile turning nervous. Oh God, did he notice how weird she abruptly got? ‘Cool. Sweet. Perfect. Your- this was perfect. I’ll see you, uh, -’

‘Yeah,’ she squeaked. ‘Whenever.’

When he left the room in a hurry, her face planted itself on the keys and erupted a harsh sound. Fitting, she believed. Her mind was a mess too. 

***

Then stuff began piling on and each time it did, Julie’s heart fluttered like the traitorous bitch it was. 

Like when Luke told her to tell calculus to “bite her” as a joke, but then she actually did during a test and somehow didn’t get a black out. She knew it was likely just a placebo, but the grin she earned later on when she showed him the B+ and he gave her the tightest hug was worth the pseudo-science. 

Or he found her in the hallway whenever they both had a free period and casual small talk turned to slamming each other into lockers or, more recently, pulled her outside to get boba from the place right across the street. Their boba hangouts were probably the strangest development of all, but it was… nice. Pleasant. If she ever secretly thought it was a date, then it must’ve been a sun stroke hitting her. 

Or she’d be doing her homework and he’d waltz into her room (because he was always at their house and that never changed) and randomly help her with a task or question. It was small and it usually slowed her down, but she hasn’t had the guts to turn him away either. She blamed his stupid smile. 

Or just yesterday they were all in the kitchen and she was peering over Reggie’s shoulder as he tried and failed to properly text his crush Kayla, when she said: 

‘Isn’t that weird? That you’re talking to a junior?’

Luke, who was looking over his other shoulder, scoffed. ‘Why would that be weird?’

Pointing at the emoji he should be using (the purple heart - duh!), she shrugged. ‘I don’t know. You just don’t see a lot of people date outside of their year. It’s, like, an unspoken rule.’

Reggie pouted. ‘Not helping, Jules.’

‘I am! Use the purple heart!’

Luke snorted. ‘Please, if you were asked out by some senior boy, you’d say no?’

The Molina’s looked up from the phone to shoot him a weird look. The boy shrunk under their stare, fingers nervously drumming island. 

Caution tinged her voice. ‘I don’t know… should I?’

The boys stared at each other for a beat. That “bro-talk” again, Julie presumed with a roll of the eye. Typical.

‘Yes,’ Luke trailed, unsure. ‘You should say no.’

A ball of disappointment dropped to the pit of her stomach at his words - hard. Oh. So he didn’t mean himself then. Julie froze. Why would she even want that? She was not returning to her fourteen year old self that gawked at Luke like an idiot. Nope. Not happening. Just because she felt flushed and ecstatic every Wednesday afternoon when they schedules lined up, that didn’t mean her crush has resurfaced. Totally. 

But then something even more maddening happened. It was Thursday afternoon, right before lunch, when Nick approached her by her locker. She’d been fervently texting a sick Flynn to get better when he started asking about dance class and how on earth he was supposed to master a calypso by Monday next week. He was clearly stressed and Julie gave him a hug. Just as she was going to offer her help (or redirect him to Kayla, as she was an actual dance goddess), a familiar arm draped around her shoulder and pulled her back. 

Julie was fuming. Luke decided to start acting like some jovial prick as he intimidated Nick with all these terror stories about his own dance assignments from last year and that “a calypso was just the beginning.” The poor guy was practically passed out from anxiety by the time his spiel was over. She couldn’t even yell an apology as he sped off and spun around the corner at lightning speed.        

The arm fell away, Luke stared at her ridden with guilt, muttered some half-assed “sorry” and rushed off in the opposite direction. A baffled, angry Julie was left standing there. 

If Luke thought he could be some white knight, he was dead wrong. 

***

She got lucky. Reggie mentioned beforehand Luke was coming over and knew that he, inevitably, would ascend the stairs. A pent-up Julie paced in her room, feeling that fever pitch come to a boiling point. Argh! Why was he so… infuriating?! (And attractive?! And charismatic?! Argh!) 

Then she heard it. His tentative steps up the steps. Like he knew. The fact that she was seemingly predictable left her cold this time, slamming her door open at just the right moment to snatch his wrist and roughly yank him inside. 

Before he could react, she yelled: 'What the hell, Luke?! Why did you do that?' 

Luke was a stammering, embarrassed mess. Good. 'Uh- I- I-' 

'You can't just act all overprotective or possessive like that! What's your problem with Nick? He's super nice and, you know, my friend. I already have two brothers, I don’t need one more!’

'I-'

'You don't get to decide who I talk with! Or save me or whatever fantasy you were living in! And-!' 

'I like you, Jules,' he blurted. 

Julie was blazing though. 'So? That doesn't mean that-' Until the words dried on her tongue, stunned. All else she had prepared to say flew out the window. The constant fluttering in her heart hitched. Did she… hear him correctly? 'W-what?' 

A beat went by, like he couldn’t believe he actually said that, but then word vomit spewed out. 'I- I like you? Like, on and off since I was eleven and I tried to not like you - I really tried - but you're just incredible and pretty and an amazing singer and you keep doing that thing with your lips when you have a thought and it's been killing me seeing Nick shoot his shot and-' 

Julie dove forward and pressed a kiss on his rambling mouth. Stretched on her tippy toes, she saw him freeze and stare at her in wonder. Slowly, her poor heart began to beat again, fast and fond and for him and oh my God, what was happening? 

'Did you just-', he croaked. 

Shit. Should she have asked to kiss him first? Her hands didn't leave his shoulders, alarmed. 'Uh… you just kept talking and-' She swallowed back her nerves and mustered a smile. 'If you wanted to be my boyfriend, you could've just asked.'

Luke blinked, completely in awe by her words. 'What?' 

Alright. Time to take life by the balls, Molina. 

'You didn't think I might like you back?' 

An incredulous laugh puffed from his lips, looking from her hands on his shoulders and then grabbed onto her waist. Jitters burst in her stomach at the sudden touch. This was actually happening. Holy shit. But God, how could she deny that bright smile and his warm smile and that giddy feeling that rippled her skin each time they hung out? 

'Can we try that again?', he breathed. 

His grin captured hers before she could fully nod, his hands slipping to her lower back and jaw without hesitation. Her arms slung around his neck, finally getting a feel for his soft locks of hair. Heat grew from her chest to her toes, curling from bliss. She felt deliciously empty and full of glee all at once. 

Her back fell against the door with a giggle. Just as he went back in, she pressed a finger on his lips. 

'Still doesn't make it right what you did.' 

'Yeah.' He kissed her again. 'Sorry.'

She tried saying more, but each word was muffled by another warm kiss of his intoxicating lips and all she could do was melt against him. The odd lyric that “heaven was his lips and larger than paradise” passed her by, hopefully reminding her of its existence in an hour or two. 

His fingers slipped under her shirt and dug into her heated skin. They became lazier, the kisses open-mouthed and smiling and already so amazing at first try. Julie has kissed a handful of boys before, but this? Unmatched. 

Two sudden knocks against wood. ‘Julie?’

They froze, Julie slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his inevitable snicker. 

‘Have you seen Luke?’, Reggie continued, confusion lacing his voice. 

‘No!’, her voice squeaked, still affected by their make-out. Cringing, she tried to level it. ‘Uh, maybe he’s gone to the, uh-’ His lips grazed her neck, teasingly. She pinched his arm, but he didn’t lean back. Asshole. ‘-uh…’

‘Julie? Everything okay?’

‘Yeah! Yeah! I’m fine!’ Julie pushed Luke back again, this time the boy giving her some space. The wolfish smirk he was sporting was one she either wanted to slap or kiss away. ‘Maybe he’s in the bathroom? Annoying Carlos? The studio?’ Not my room!  

They held in their breaths as they waited for a reply. Her mind was failing to catch up to what she’s just done. Here she was, with flushed lips and tingling skin from Luke’s actions as her brother was meandering on the other side of the door. How did she end up here? 

He blew a raspberry. ‘Okay…’ They sighed. ‘When you’re done making out, can you force Luke to start our project? Kind of an important assignment.’

Luke’s face crashed into pure horror, mouth falling agape and skin pale as a ghost. Julie snorted despite herself, dropping her head on his shoulder in an attempt to muffle her giggles but failing horribly. Of course, Reggie knew. His dreamy nature made anyone forget how observant he actually was, yet here he instantly he had his pulse on the facts. Or he’s always known about Luke’s crush on her. Probably both. 

Her smile stretched against the fabric of his shirt. Luke had a crush on her. Luke liked her. 

Reggie’s footsteps faded away, his bedroom door falling shut. Their gazes met again. 

Luke gulped, green eyes wide and oh so adorable. ‘He took that surprisingly well.’

Her chin raised, haughty. She hasn’t forgotten about that infuriating face of his just one minute before. ‘You kissed my neck.’

That look returned as he hummed, edging closer. ‘I did.’

‘You’re an asshole, you know that?’

His face brightened at her words, weaving a hand through her and making her sigh just like that. She was gone and she didn’t even know it. ‘And you’re-’ he murmured, softly kissing her lips, ‘-into that.’

How desperately she wanted to keep this going, she has heard what Reggie said. An important project due. She shouldn’t trouble her brother like that, even if making out with his best friend was far more appealing than anything else in the world right now.

The measly words puffed out. ‘You have-’ kiss ‘-a project-’ kiss ‘-with Reggie.’ kiss.  

‘Hmm…’ Letting her stand between his legs to be even closer and consequently shutting down any rationale, Luke mumbled against her lips: ‘One more minute.’

In the end, Luke stayed for another thirty minutes before Reggie barged in, dragged the boy from Julie’s bed by the collar and wordlessly trucked back out the room. When later that night she received a text saying goodnight jules 💙 she knew she hadn’t been dreaming.

And when Luke kissed her square on the lips the next day for everyone to see, Julie had inkling this interesting, little relationship of theirs was the just the beginning.  

@blush-and-books @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily @sophiphi @ourstarscollided

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Eight

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, Steve, Sam, OC Monique, Tony

Warnings: language, implied smut, talk of pregnancy/children, pregnancy scare

Chapter Summary: Sam finds out about Reader and Bucky’s secret. Reader has a scare that helps Reader and Bucky have a very important conversation.

Author’s Note: This was originally going to be longer but in light of recent events in America, I decided to postpone a violent scene (so warning for the next part: violence). It’s kinda short and I’m so sorry but I wanted to give you something. As always, feel free to buy me a coffee!

Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven)

Despite his frustration with finding out he was breaking way more than just company protocol, Bucky’s attitude simmered and eventually fizzled out as the day went on. You’d bet seeing you uncomfortably directing security where to put your lab equipment while Bucky’s cum stuck to the inside of your thighs had an impact on his mood.

The rest of the day went by surprisingly well, all things considered. You took the day to set up your at-home lab while Steve got groceries and cooked, Sam installed security cameras in all the common areas, and Bucky searched your place for any bugs or wires. No one was weird about things, aside from Bucky when you first arrived. Sam was his usual goofy self and Steve was a dad stereotype.

That night, however, Steve sat everyone down in your living room for a little chat. Steve and Sam sat on the sofa across from you and Bucky, almost like they were concerned parents talking to you before sending you to prom.

“Okay, time to address the elephant in the room. Who knew about who you are before it was leaked?” Steve asked, elbows propped on his knees and that signature crease between his brows.

“Other than dad, Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy, just Monique,” you shrugged. “But it wasn’t her. She has nothing to gain from telling anyone.”

“Well, unfortunately we’ll have to look into her anyway,” Steve sighed. “But if it’s not her, it won’t be a problem. And you’re sure there’s no one else?”

“What about that boyfriend of yours?” Sam asked.

“It’s not him,” you said meekly. “I never told him.”

“Are you sure he couldn’t have found out?” Sam pressed.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Sam nodded but added, “We should still talk to the guy —”

“I didn’t know,” Bucky interrupted from beside you.

Sam looked confused, but Steve next to him was smirking, clearly trying to hold back a laugh.

“What?” Sam asked.

Bucky leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his stance wide and fingers intertwined in the middle. If the situation wasn’t so serious, you’d be even more turned on.

“I didn’t know,” he repeated with a forced, tight-lipped smile. “I found out this morning and I was just as shocked as you were.”

“I said I was sorry!” you groaned, tossing your arms in the air in exasperation.

Bucky leaned back to wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you into his side. When he slid his arm over your neck, you instinctively gripped his forearm but the giggle you let out showed you weren’t trying to pry him off you.

While you wiggled in Bucky’s grasp to get comfortable, Sam’s eyes darted between the two of you in a mix of shock and curiosity.

“Man, how the hell did you get a girl like that?!”

Steve finally let his laugh out at this. Bucky just tightened his arm around your throat, making you moan quietly, just barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Trust me, she’s a pain in the ass,” Bucky teased. You giggled again and squirmed out of his grasp to straddle his legs, now that everyone in the room knew your secret.

“You can always be a pain in my ass,” you smirked as you draped your arms over his shoulders and scooted forward so your pelvis was pressed against him. He groaned in frustration and tossed his head back, gripping your ass cheeks in an attempt to ground himself.

“You better watch your mouth before I fuck you right here, right now, princess,” he practically growled. You bit your lip to tease him just a little bit more. He had only called you ‘princess’ twice but it was definitely doing something for you.

“I hate to be a buzzkill,” Sam started, “but her dad would skin you alive if he heard you saying that.”

“And then filet what’s left if he saw this,” Steve added.

“Bucky’d probably taste pretty good though,” Sam shrugged. “Especially if we got to the thighs.”

“Yeah, I’d go for the thighs,” Steve agreed, making Bucky roll his eyes.

“I’d go for something else,” you piped in.

“Okay, let’s end this before it gets out of hand,” Steve said. You frowned but plopped back onto the couch next to Bucky instead of on top of him.

The rest of the night was spent mapping out who knew about you, who might’ve figured it out, and what any of those people would’ve gotten out of leaking your secret. You adamantly ruled Monique out; she didn’t need the money or the attention and already knew the type of stress your secret put on you. And her concerned texts begging you to believe it wasn’t her and vowing to castrate whoever told the media helped support your case. Unfortunately, it led to a lot of dead ends. You knew it couldn’t have been Happy, Rhodey, or Pepper, but that left literally no one as a suspect.

Halfway across town, your dad, Rhodey, Happy, Pepper, and Bruce were going over their own documents and information to get to the bottom of it. None of the news stations were willing to divulge their source, claiming it was “anonymous” so they didn’t know who said it, but Tony wasn’t convinced. He was worried about you, but he also knew your temporary roommates were solid protection for you.

He just didn’t know the additional protection you’d need with one of those roommates.

•

Bucky was always great about your period. It usually only lasted a few days because of your birth control and was on the light side, but he had no issue with laying down one of his “safety towels” before laying you down during those three days. He even set reminders in his phone so he knew to be prepared. So when his reminder popped up on what was usually your final day, he walked in with a towel while you lounged in bed, but he was confused at your own confusion.

“Why do you have a towel?” you laughed.

“Babe,” he whined. It amused you to no end when the big bad Winter Soldier whined at you. “I’m horny.”

You laughed again as he tossed the towel onto the bed beside you and settled his weight between your legs.

“Okay? Why does that involve a towel?”

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Aren’t you on your period?”

It only took one second for the realization to make your breath catch in your throat. It took one more second for Bucky’s entire body to grow tense.

“You’re on your period, right?” he asked. The urgency in his voice did nothing but stress you out more. You pulled your body out from under his and ran into your bathroom, rummaging through the drawers looking for an old test you were sure you had lying around somewhere. You had personally only ever taken one as a joke, but you knew Britt had panicked and taken more than a couple at your place before she got married.

“[Y/N].” Bucky’s voice behind you as you crouched on your bathroom floor made you pause your searching. “Talk to me,” he pressed.

You didn’t look at him as you spoke.

“I’m late.”

He let out a huff behind you but quickly crouched beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders because if he thought he was scared, he couldn’t imagine what you were feeling.

“Okay. We’ll go pick up a test and cross our fingers in the meantime,” he said quietly.

“How are we supposed to get a pregnancy test, James? Everyone knows who I am now,” you snapped.

You hated how easily you could tear up because you didn’t want to cry over your situation, but the stress hit you too quickly for any other reaction to kick in first.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you muttered quickly, pawing at your face to wipe away stray tears. “I’ll call Monique and have her pick one up.”

“Okay.” Bucky was treading lightly, you could tell. “Do you want to be alone or do you want me to stay with you?”

You bit your lip and took a deep, shaky breath to push more tears back.

“I think I want you to stay.”

Bucky let you sit between his legs while you called Monique.

“Hey, what’s up?” she answered almost immediately.

“I need you to come over,” you said, trying and failing to cover the panic in your voice.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” You could hear rustling in the background and knew she was already sliding on shoes to rush over.

“I kind of need you to pick something up for me.”

“Anything.”

“Um… I need you to grab a pregnancy test.”

“A preg—” she paused. “A… okay, yeah, I’ll pick that up and swing by soon.”

“Thanks, Momo,” you replied quietly, tossing out the nickname you gave her after you two rewatched Avatar: The Last Airbender a couple years prior.

“See you soon, love you,” she said as you heard the slam of her door.

“Love you.”

True to her word, Monique knocked on your front door less than 20 minutes later. Since Steve and Sam practically interrogated her just a couple days before, they didn’t hesitate to let her in. She proved she wasn’t one to just let them toss around unsubstantiated accusations.

“Hey booboo,” she cooed as she stepped into your room. “I grabbed three different brands just to be safe and threw in a bottle of sparkling grape juice and a bottle of champagne, depending on what results we get.”

You couldn’t help but finally laugh at the cross between a cringe and a smile on her face. You practically lunged off the bed to give her a hug. She held you a second longer than usual and started leading you to your bathroom. When Bucky started to follow, she turned sharply.

“Uh-uh. You stay put. You’re the whole reason this is happening.”

“Monique, it takes two,” you chuckled behind her.

“And he’s the one who ejaculated in you.” You scoffed and grabbed her arm to tug her into the bathroom with you.

“We’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Bucky loved seeing how easily your best friend could immediately lift your spirits, but hated being sequestered in the bedroom.

The minutes ticked by even slower for you. Monique tried to keep you occupied as your phone and her phone counted down until the results would appear. One only took three minutes but the other two took five, so you anxiously stared at the three-minute test lying face-down on the sink until Monique’s phone beeped.

You breathed out an early sigh of relief at the test that read “NOT PREGNANT.”

“Two more,” Monique reminded you.

Those last two minutes felt even longer than the first three. But once your phone dinged, you and Monique each grabbed one of the two remaining tests. Judging by Monique’s squeal, you had the same results. You peeked over just to make sure and barreled through the bathroom door, startling Bucky as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Not pregnant!” you screamed in excitement.

You ran and tackled him, sending him onto his back on the bed.

“Do I need to remind you two what caused this in the first place?” Monique laughed behind you two.

All of your heads turned when your bedroom door swung open to reveal both Steve and Sam looking even more concerned than usual.

“Did you just say what I think you said?!” Steve asked.

“What do you think I said?” you asked, sitting up onto Bucky’s lap.

“We heard ‘I’m pregnant’!” Sam shouted.

“Not pregnant!” you clarified and held up the test you were still gripping. “No babies yet.”

“Yet?” Bucky parroted.

“Uh… yeah…?” you replied hesitantly.

It was something that seemed so far into the future for you two that you never discussed it, but you did want a kid or two someday. And judging by the scare you just had, it was something you should probably discuss soon, just in case.

But Bucky’s reaction pretty much answered your unspoken question. He moved a hand to the back of your neck and pulled you down for a forceful, heated kiss. He easily slid his tongue into your mouth and squeezed your ass — until Monique cleared her throat.

“You should probably use these next time,” she said as she tossed a box of condoms at you.

Bucky pulled away quick enough to catch the box before it hit you, but the rest of the room still laughed at your expense.

“You really like giving Stark a reason to kill you, don’t you?” Sam asked Bucky, who groaned out loud and collapsed back on the bed.

“I didn’t know!”

•

That night as you and Bucky were lying in bed — just a couple hours after your period finally started — you forced your nerves away and asked the big question.

“Hey, what were you feeling today? Before I took the tests, I mean.”

Bucky continued to stroke your arm, unfazed by the topic.

“Initially, fear. And then the more time passed, the more that fear turned into... excitement, I guess? I mean, I always wanted kids back in the day, but now I’m kind of worried, you know?”

“Why?” you prodded, propping yourself up on Bucky’s chest so you could look directly at him. He propped his head up with his hand to look back at you.

“Do I need to remind you that I was the deadliest assassin in the world 10 years ago?” he smirked.

“Well yeah, but not anymore!” you smiled back. “You’re my Bucky Bear now.”

“Mm, keep saying cute shit like that and I’ll actually get you pregnant next time.”

You giggled at this but shook your head.

“Monique got us condoms for a reason.”

“Do you want to use one now?” Bucky smirked.

“I gotta be totally honest,” you started slowly. You felt weird saying this but, “I don’t think I want to use them at all.” That cute little wrinkle popped up between Bucky’s eyebrows as he silently questioned your answer. “I just… I like feeling you.”

You swung a leg over his body to straddle him and pressed your body to his. Your lips attached to his neck before trailing up to his ear.

“I’m not against them if you want to use them,” you said softly. “But you should make that decision soon.”

He made up his mind real quick.

[ginanosakka]

You’re Wrong

Masterlist

The Scars You Hide | Next

You tried to focus on the words of the textbook in front of you, but after an hour of studying, it was becoming hard to care about what stops you from flying out of a car when you turn and how to create a math equation out of it. It didn’t help that it was late in the night that you finally found time to study, your mother dragging you out on a shopping spree where you were forced to smile and nod at whatever she wanted you to wear.

‘I don’t understand why everyone likes shopping so much,’ your thoughts ran off as you looked at the new clothes that laid in the bags sprawled across the floor for your maid, Jun, to put up while you were at school tomorrow morning.

When your phone dinged you jumped at the sound, but before you could even check what the message was and who sent it, something hard smacked against your window. With your unchecked phone in hand, you crept towards the window, cursing your parents for giving you the room on the first floor of your enormous home. Pulling the curtains gently as if whatever had come knocking wouldn’t notice you, you peeked outside and immediately let out a breath of relief.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered after throwing your window open and pushing your curtains to the side.

Katsuki stood outside your home, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants paired with those combat boots he seemed to love more than life. He looked nuts, and maybe he was if he decided to jump your gate and throw things at your window, but the look on his face told you that this wasn’t a time to give him shit on his matching skills.

“Just let me in, dork.” He grunted, and you complied silently by stepping to the side.

That was the first night of many nights when Katsuki couldn’t bare to be alone with his thoughts and came to you to fill in the silence with nonsense. He’d let you complain about your mother, your father, and your maid with only short responses and noises of acknowledgment. When he’d finally jump back out your window at an absurd time, something you worried about since Mina told you how he had a set bedtime for himself, you’d lay in bed with your heart full until you could finally sleep.

Maybe it was how much you talked and complained about your superficial problems. . maybe that’s why everyone hated you.

“You have to talk to her!” Mina huffed, tailing behind Katsuki on his patrol, both of them on duty protecting the city.

Obviously, Mina was more worried about rekindling a fire that was never truthfully lit than stopping a mugger.

Katsuki was doing his best not to shout at her, after the restaurant incident, he’d been forced to do damage control on his image. The reports wasted no time making a story out of it, calling him a temperamental monster for yelling at you. When he watched the video back on a popular tabloid site, Katsuki couldn’t help but agree as he saw the look in your eyes. Still, that was probably nothing to how you looked when he walked away all those years ago, but it’s not like he looked back then.

All it took was meeting you again for you to start taking over his life again, not only conquering his media image in hours, but also his mind with all the hypotheticals. It was hard for Katsuki to see himself as a father, but he’d been one for six years without even knowing. He wondered what your son looked like now and how he acted. Did he have a short temper? Does he even have a quirk?

That was another thing that bothered him; the fact that he didn’t feel any emotions about whether or not his child was quirkless. His whole life he saw people without quirks as weak — he couldn’t count the times he mentioned you being quirkless, let alone Deku — but it was like he couldn’t draw any anger or disappointment at the thought of his son being perfectly average. After looking at that picture, all he wanted to do was get to know his own flesh and blood, and he was still pissed that you took that away from him.

“I don’t want to talk to her and I never will. I’ll take her to court to get my kid if I have to, but I want nothing to do with some spoiled princess.” Katsuki spat, and Mina was beginning to get fed up with how he refused to listen.

She snatched him by the arm, forcing him to turn around and look at her. Even now Katsuki’s glares still sent a shiver down her spine, but she was much more frustrated than scared right now. His red eyes went against her black and yellow ones, neither of them being acknowledged by bystanders who moved around them on the assumption that this was just two heroes discussing something they had no business listening to. That was only kind of correct.

“Her dad threw her out when he found out! She had no one but herself, Katsuki! . . . I don’t even know how she’s surviving, and by talking to her and helping her, you’ll be helping Ryu.”

Katsuki’s glare melted at the last word she spoke and he found himself whispering, “his name is Ryu.”

The tension had vanished into thin air at the mention of his son’s name, the warmth that engulfed his body not being one he’d ever felt before. He’d never even met the kid and he already had Katsuki wrapped around his finger, and Mina knew it. A grin spread across her face when she realized it, and with that, the first phase of her plan was complete. Neither of you may know it, but the son you two shared could bring you two together.

“How was school?” You asked Ryu as you both walked home from his daycare, the school being a small walk from your cozy home and quite safe due to being in the less populated area of the city.

“Boring,” he snorted and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his displeasure. “No one cares about my quirk because stupid Nora can glitter in the sunlight!”

“Does it matter? You like your quirk, don’t you?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. . Did you ever get bullied for not having a quirk, mom?” Ryu looked up at you, his big e/c wide and curious for what kind of answer you’d give him.

‘Why do children have to ask tough questions? What happened to why the chicken crossed the road?’ You sweat dropped, and quickly tried to come up with a soft but honest answer.

You didn’t lie to Ryu about things, not even about why he was now your only family, but you didn’t present him hard truths that you didn’t think he was ready for. Basically, you gave a blanket answer; a broad answer that wouldn’t hurt him. He was only five after all, why the hell did a five year old need to know about dishonor and abandonment?

“Well, no,” you started gently. “My dad, your grandfather, kind of made sure that didn’t happen and I didn’t know that I was a thing until I was older.”

Until I met your dad.

You ran a hand through his hair and pulled him closer as you walked, “and now I definitely don’t need a quirk when I have you to protect me, right?”

Ryu smiled a smile so bright that you wondered if he could rival the sun, and it warmed you to the very core. That smile was what you lived for, it was the reason you found yourself and wanted to be better. You couldn’t imagine where’d you’d be right now if he hadn’t changed your whole world, the thought of living in your father’s shadow being unthinkable now. You’d trump him, you’d trump his entire company, and you’d trump everyone who used you.

‘I’m strong because of you.’

“Of course, I’m your hero!” Ryu cheered.

“That’s right,” you chuckled.

You came up on your house, and the smile and warmth you once had was taken from you so suddenly that you stopped in your tracks a few feet away from your door. Ryu gasped from beside you and you heard his bag drop to the floor, but you knew his shock was the complete opposite of yours. Both of you were looking at the tall blonde man that stood in front of your door, leaning against it staring into space until he heard the bag drop. His red eyes fell on the both of us and you stopped breathing, not sure of what to do, or better yet * what he’d do.

“You’re Dynamight!” The first words were spoken by your son, his high pitched voice nearly yelling those words as he took a few steps forward.

You watched Katsuki’s reaction carefully, trying to prepare yourself to get Ryu away from him if he even so much as snapped at him. This wasn’t how you wanted them to meet — you didn’t want them to meet at all — and from your last interaction, you weren’t sure if he even wanted to meet Ryu. Yet all you could do was watch for the time being.

Katsuki looked him dead in the eyes, his usual resting bitch face, but there was something soft about it that shocked you. He was in his hero uniform, probably coming straight here from whatever hero work he was doing, and there was no question on who told him your address.

You’d most definitely be strangling a certain pink pixie later.

“Yeah, you’re Ryu, right?” Katsuki said, talking the next few steps towards him and bending down to be his height.

Ryu’s face was out of your sight, but you could imagine he was exploding with happiness. “Yeah! How did you know? Did you come to recruit me for your agency?! Mom, did you know?”

‘If I knew he was coming I would have sent you across the country.’

“I didn’t, but why don't we invite Mr. Dynamight in? He’s probably tired,” you suggested.

“Oh yeah! Come in, we can talk about hero stuff and I can show you my toys!”

Ryu took Katsuki’s hand as you walked past them, brushing Katsuki’s shoulder gently and ignoring how your body yearned to feel that warmth more closely. You unlocked the door and let Ryu lead him in, closing the door behind them and taking off your heels. Both of you were technically still in work attire, yours being business casual while his was. . hero official?

Katsuki was probably unnerved by Ryu’s talkative nature, but you simply went to the kitchen like you usually did when you got home and rummaged the cabinets for your tea. As long as they were both in close range, you could take a second to pull yourself together so you don’t throw your child’s idol and father out of your home if he so much as breathes in a way you didn’t like. If you were to act out now, you’d really have to sit down with the boy, and if you weren’t ready for them to meet, you certainly weren’t ready for that.

Your tea kettle didn’t even get to whistle before you took it off the stove, pouring the piping hot water into a cup with your tea and adding the sugar. The noise had died down in the living room where you could hear Ryu tell Katsuki all he knew about him — which was a lot — and you were staring to become concerned that Bakugou had possibly said something that hurt his feelings or kidnapped your child, but those theories were put to rest when footsteps came into the kitchen.

“He talks as much as you did.” Those words affected you more than you’d like to admit, not expecting him to want to make any connections between you and the son you both shared.

“He’s my son,” you stated the obvious. Turning around to face him with your tea in hand, taking a small sip of the burning hot liquid as you gazed at him with cold eyes.

Katsuki didn’t know what else to say, he had no plan for what he’d do once he got here, only getting your address from Mina and refusing to ask for advice. He had never walked on eggshells with someone before, it was usually everyone else trying not to piss him off. He didn’t know if he was scared of you, or how wrong he was about you. He didn’t have a clue that you were living a normal life, and once he came across your house in such a small neighborhood without gates and security, he felt even more guilty about yelling at you in that restaurant.

“When I told you to tell me when you’re ready to meet him, I didn’t mean just show up at my house.” You said, and as calm as it sounded, he could tell that you were picking your words wisely. She obviously didn’t want Ryu to know who he was yet, and he didn’t think he wanted to either with how happy the kid was to see him as his idol.

How would he see him if he knew he was his dad?

“How did you do it? . . I mean, what do you do now?” Katsuki asked, choosing to ignore your initial statement and get the answers he was seeking.

You were getting tired of being questioned, but this is what you get for reaching out. “If you’re asking how I’m able to take care of us, it’s because I started my own business with the money I had saved up. Next question,” you answered casually as you continued sipping your tea.

“. . Why did you tell me now?”

He noticed that question seemed to break your composure, your cold and aloof expression turned sorrowful and your eyes stayed glued to your cup. Katsuki didn’t understand why he felt his stomach drop at the sight of it, but he blamed it on the guilt he already felt.

“Ryu started asking about you more. . and I thought maybe it was because I wasn’t spending enough time with him. . but the more time we spent together the more questions he’d ask about you. I had to face the facts that I can’t play the part of mom and dad, and he deserved to meet his real dad even if we never get along. He deserved to get to make his own impression of you,” you admitted.

Katsuki was once again speechless, but the spotlight was quickly torn off of him.

“He’s my dad?”

A/N: Annnnd we have a new chapter! I hope you enjoy, and thank you all for all the love on this book 🥺! I appreciate all the comments and revolves so much! Muah!

Taglist <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @damnirina @fireworkemoji102 @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa @ladybeautiful18 @vintage-teddyxo @mirakeul @regalmigraine

[whydoyouwantmyname]

Imagine being Sirus’s daughter

-You were born in the year 1978, your mother was a muggle who Sirius met at a punk rock concert, and they had dated for a few months before deciding they were better off parting way as soon as he revealed he was a wizard.

-When she gave birth to you, Sirius hadn’t even known she was pregnant, and she didn’t tell him until you were 6 months old, when she went to his flat and frantically knocked on the door.

“Olivia, it’s six o’clock in the fucking morning, why are you...” and then he noticed the baby carrier

“She is one of you Sirius, she made...” her voice loud with frustration as she hushed it, “she made all of her toy fly at me when I told her it was nap time, she once cried and all the lights blew. Sirius I can not have this thing live in my house.”

“Clearly not if you are calling her a thing.” He snapped before snatching the carrier out of her hand, “I suggest you sell all her baby things, I don’t want her having a single reminder of you in her life.”

-He slammed the door in her face, and quickly placed you on the sofa, and just stared at you, for an hour. Internationally he was freaking out, he was 18, Fresh out of Hogwarts, and had zero idea how to parent a child. So he did the only thing that made rational sense, and picked up the phone.

“Hey mom, I have to tell ya something....yes I know it is early, but I just couldn’t wait to tell you....No, no I am not in jail again, however you might wanna sit down for this one..... you’re a grandma.”

-The phone was silent, and next thing he knew his fireplace lit up green, and out stepped Euphemia Potter, who was still dressed in her night gown, her eyes wide as she looked at her son’s best friend, and then noticed the small child asleep in her carrier. “She’s beautiful.”

“Mom I have zero idea how to even...”

“Trust me Padfoot,” the name slipped so comfortably out of her mouth as he looked at her with panic, “None of us do. We just do it, and pray that we don’t accidentally hex them.”

-That morning Euphemia spent teaching Sirius all about how to care for a baby, but quickly learned his new delima, “Do you have anything for her?”

“No, her mother just dropped her off this morning, I didn’t even know...”

“Did she tell you her name at least?”

“No.”

“Well, how about [Y/N]? That’s what I would have named James if he was a girl.”

“[Y/N] Euphemia Black, I like it.” He smiled, looking over at a surprised Euphemia, “What? I always hear that it was a muggle tradition to give your daughter’s your mother’s middle name.”

-After that she took you and Sirius out to a muggle baby store, and the grocery store, and bought you everything you could ever need. The whole time you were with the two, you never cried, you just stared at them with your [Y/C/E]’s and played with the small rattle Euphemia bought you. Once you returned to the flat, she flicked her wand and you watched in wonder in her arms as all the furniture started to assemble itself, while your father put all the baby food and bottles away. Soon he was putting the clothes she had bought you on the hangers, while Euphemia rocked you to sleep, your eyelids heavy as she looked down at your smooth face. Her trance was broken though by Sirius’s soft voice, “How do I know I wouldn’t turn out like her?”

“Because you would never allow yourself to. I know your mother was a vile woman, who had no regard for her children, but you Sirius Black, are the greatest thing she ever created. Besides you are an amazing friend to James, and I can only imagine you will treat this little girl as well as you do my son.” She stated before slowly raising and removing the maroon and gold sweater from his fingers, and hung it up for him. “Now, I am sure Lily is already at the house frantically worrying about this wedding that’s in a few days, so I will give this precious angel to her daddy, and call you tomorrow?”

“Of course, give them all my love.” Sirius smiled as she gently placed you into his arms, before looking to him, “You will do amazing things [Y/N], I just know it.”

-For the next week Sirius didn’t allow anyone into his flat, he just wanted to spend that time admiring your features, and learning how to be the fun dad. However after 7 days there was a pounding on his door, and behind it stood a tall, lean man, with shaggy brown hair, and glasses. In his arms were neatly wrapped boxes, and a stag plushie sat on the top.

“Really, you couldn’t have bought her a dog one after her father?” Sirius joked as James smiled, his voice filled with joy as he replied, “Never.”

-The moment you saw James, you immediately smiled, and crawled over to his feet as quickly as you could, your hands grasping at his pants as he sat the boxes down on the kitchen counter. “So you must be [Y/N]?” All he got as a reply was a giggle, and soon you were up in his arms.

-That afternoon you spent attached to James, and while him and Sirius talked, he would slowly dance around the flat with you, or throw you in the air, which also caused you to release a loud giggle. Sirius’s stress would rise quickly when he did, but once you were safely back in his hand, James would look at his friend and smile, “Don’t worry Pads, I won’t hurt our little princess.”

-Soon there was more knocking at the door, and behind it was Remus, and Peter. The man of the house quickly enveloped his friends into a hug, and opened the door wider to reveal James holding you upside down, as giggles filled the air. Quickly he lifted back to the vertical position and spun you around quickly, until you leaned into his shoulder. When he stopped Remus looked to Sirius, “Clearly we know who her favorite uncle is going to be.”

“Bullshit Mooney, she is going to love you all the same.” Sirius reassured as James stroked your back, “[Y/N], ready to meet your other uncles?”

-You immediately leaned out of James arms and right into Remus’s chest, your hands going to his face as you patted it quickly. However soon your fingers were tracing the light scars on the man’s face, your touches were delicate as you lightly brushed his warm skin. Remus tensed slightly under your touch, almost scared that you would cry within seconds, however you quickly placed your head onto his shoulder, and cuddled into him, causing Sirius to smile, “Told ya.”

-Peter was terrified to touch you, he preferred to just watch you interact with the others, and when you tried to climb up onto his lap, he stiffened. You immediately started to tear up, causing James to quickly scoop you up.

-That afternoon you napped on Remus’s shoulder.

-James and Remus both volunteered to change you, Peter was too timid to even try.

-Later that evening there was one last knock, James jumped up immediately and reached out to Sirius for you, a smile on his face as he said to you, “Alright [Y/N], now you are going to meet one of the most important woman in my life, but don’t worry, it doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

-When Lily saw you, her hands went to her face, as she silently freaked out, “Merlin, she is beautiful Padfoot.”

“Not as beautiful as her Auntie Lily.” James replied as you leaned forward and allowed Lily to hold you. She quickly cuddled you into her chest and smiled.

-As soon as Lily arrived you refused to leave her, not even James, who you were previously attached to could take you away from her, if they tried your eyes immediately watered.

-James pouted a bit about that, but Lily just chuckled and stated, “Don’t worry Love, I am sure she still loves you.”

-That night you fell asleep in Lily’s arms, and soon she was softly walking towards your nursery to put you to sleep. She smiled though at the sight of the stag plushie, and made a mental note to pick up one to represent the other boys.

-When she returned to the parlor, she smiled at the sight of the four young men, who were currently gushing over the small infant who was sleeping.

-That night when it was just James, Lily, and Sirius, he asked them if they would be your godparents. They agreed.

-The next day Lily arrived to the flat and handed Sirius a wolf, a rat, and a black dog plushie for you, and then she sat on his couch with a cup of tea, as they discussed life, your small body seated upon Sirius’s lap as you chug to your black dog plush.

-Whenever Lily saw a cute child’s outfit she would pick it up for you.

-Remus was famous for buying you books

-Peter often bought you random trinkets

-James always bought you toys.

-On full moons, Lily would babysit you, which you enjoyed, especially once you were older. She normally would play disney movies, and read to you 100 stories. She was always ready to play dress up, or paint with you.

-On nights where the order would met Euphemia and Fleamont would watch you, at their own estate. You enjoyed going to the Potter’s, and would crawl or toddle to each different room on the bottom floor. You also had a habit of falling asleep in the parlor with the pair, Fleamont normally was reading to you out of one of his many book, while Euphemia held you, her fingers tracing through your hair.

-Once they were done either meeting or fighting, Sirius, James, and Lily would drag themselves into the manor, and head to the parlor, where they would smile almost immediately at the sight of the small girl asleep on the couch.

-Sometimes when you would cry, Sirius would transform into the dog form, to which you would stop crying immediately and cuddle into the raven color, soft, fur.

-Your first word was Dadda, quickly followed by “Pong” which you would yell often at James.

-You knew all of your uncles by their Nick names, and sometimes they would find themselves calling each other the names you had assigned. James was Pong, Remus was Ooney, and Peter was Ermtail. You called Lily, Elily

-You were the flower girl in James and Lily’s wedding, they had you sit in a wagon, which was bewitched to move down the aisle, and once it stopped at the end, Sirius went to scoop you up, and held you beside James and Remus.

-When James turned to Sirius to get Lily’s wedding band, you were the one holding it out to him, with a smile he plucked the small golden band from your little hand and whispered, “Thank you darling.”

-At the reception each of the marauders danced with you, even Peter, however he only danced half the song with you, before passing you off to Lily. Remus walked up beside the timid man and clapped his shoulder, “Don’t worry Wormtail, you won’t break her.”

-Albus and Minerva were obsessed with you, each one taking time to hold you and shower you in attention. Minerva looked at Sirius at one point and whispered, “I can already tell this girl is going to be a handful, just like her father.”

“I hope so Professor.” He joked as she carefully handed you back.

-Lily and James both danced with you together, and some of your favorite pictures were taken that night, as James and Lily spun you around, or swayed together with you on your uncle’s hip.

-Your father and you were the last ones on the dance floor, his breath smelled slightly of fire whiskey, and your eyes were heavy, but that didn’t stop your father from holding you close to his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, as he softly swayed you.

-That night when you arrived back to the flat, he carefully placed you down onto the changing table and quietly changed you out of the dress you had surprisingly worn the whole day, and into a pair of Jammies that Euphemia had gotten you. As he placed you into the crib, he couldn’t help but notice how much you had changed in such a short time. He spent the rest of the night sitting in your room, watching you sleep as he pondered the thoughts of his current life.

-For your first birthday, they had a small gathering at Jame’s and Lily’s flat, Lily had spent the whole day before decorating and cooking, while James attempted to help. However as your Uncle Remus would later tell you once you were older, all your Uncle James did was eat the cupcakes Lily had been making, which resulted in her sending James to Sirius’s flat, where he sat with the Marauders, joking and drinking while you were left in Lily’s care. (Who had picked you up when she dropped of James)

-When you arrived your attention was stolen by all the decorations, which were all natural colored, but had a bit of sparkle to them. Your father however was taken by the food spread that Lily had made, “Goodness Lily, are you feeding an army?”

“Have you seen the way you four eat Pads? You basically are an army.” She sassed as she extended her arms towards you, “Besides, I will spare no expense for this little bundle of joy.”

-When Remus arrived you were on the floor with your father and James. However at the sight of Remus, you pushed yourself up from the floor, and wandered towards your uncle, however after three steps your balance caused you to fall, and look up towards Remus with tears in your eyes at the fact that you had failed. Sirius staring at you in wonder as Remus scooped you up.

-Those were your first steps.

-Lily had made you your own little, jam filled, smash cake, it was completely covered in green frosting and on the top of it sat a tree, which she had purchased completely made of chocolate. In different tones blue frosting she had made a small pond, and within the smears of blue she wrote upon it Happy Birthday Darling in red frosting. Meanwhile all the adults got to eat the cupcakes, which she had filled with raspberry jam. Sirius couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked towards James, “Your future children are going to be so spoiled.”

-Later that night when it was just James, Sirius and Lily, they told him Lily was pregnant, and that they were going to tell his parents the next day. They also revealed that they wanted to name Sirius The Godfather. “We figured we would return the favor.” James joked as he looked down towards your small frame, the brand new teddy bear tucked your your face as you sucked your thumb in your sleep.

-That night you and Sirius had a sleepover with the Potters, and when you awoke that morning James and Lily were already gone. This left Sirius to gather all of your presents and hurry home with them, after feeding you some eggs, and apple juice.

-That night while you sat on your father’s lap, there was a knock upon the door. Cautiously Sirius put you down in your crib and advanced towards the door, wand drawn. When he looked into the peephole he saw the back of his best friend, upon opening the door, he saw the red rimming of his eyes, clear evidence of his sorrow. Without saying a word to Sirius he just walked past him, and straight into the nursery, where you giggled with excitement to see your Uncle. His lips forced themselves into a smile as he leaned in and picked you up, his feet dragging as he flopped into the rocking chair and held you. Normally you would have been squirming, wanting nothing more than to play with him, but you knew he just needed your stillness.

-It took Lily an hour to call Sirius’s, “Is he there?”

“Yes, he has just been sitting with [Y/N], not saying a word...”

“He hasn’t told you?” Lily cut him off

“Told me what? Did something happen to the...”

“No, no baby Potter is fine. But Sirius... I am so sorry. Euphemia and Fleamont caught Dragon Pox’s. When we went to the house they weren’t there, the neighbors had said they saw an ambulance, so we rushed to Saint Mungo’s. By the time we arrived....” her voice slightly broke but that was all Sirius needed, “Mum’s dead, isn’t she?”

“Sirius, I am so sorry. Dad’s not doing well either, they estimate he has maybe a week.”

-With that the phone dropped, and his feet took him to his friend, fresh tears covered both their faces as he gently wrapped James in a hug. None of you moved for what felt like forever.

“Can I stay here tonight?” James finally whispered, his voice hoarse, as Sirius muttered, “Of course, as long as you like.”

-Fleamont passed away two days later.

-When James and Lily introduced you to Harry, you were obsessed. You wanted nothing more than to always be near the small bundle.

-The Marauders loved having two babies to spoil now. However Peter was still extremely timid around you both.

- There was only once where you were jealous of Harry, but that was just because James was holding him, and not paying attention to you lightly tapping his leg. You just sat down at his feet, and silently started tearing up, which Lily immediately noticed. This caused her to quickly advance towards James and removed Harry from his arms, James had a look of confusion, until he heard your small sniffle. Quickly he scooped you up, and apologized.

-You loved trying to help Lily with Harry. However sometimes you were too helpful, but Lily never scolded you, just corrected the behavior.

-There was one night where she was left to watch you and Harry while the order handled some affairs. You hadnt spent a night there since they had moved to Godric Hollow. She awoke to hear muffled whimpers from her son’s room, and quickly rose to collect her house coat and check on him. Upon passing your room she hadn’t noticed that your door was open, so when she opened Harry’s she was surprised to see that you had climbed into Harry’s crib, and were softly singing a nursery rhyme Euphemia had taught you to him. His eyes growing heavy as you looked towards Lily, “He was sad, now he’s better.”

“I’m sorry Love, did his crying wake you?” She whispered as she carefully lifted you out of the crib with the sleeping boy, as you gently nodded your head, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh there is nothing to be sorry about, I just wish I had the camera out to record that precious moment. How about next time though, you come get me?”

“Deal.” You smiled as she placed you back into the bed, and tucked you in.

-The next morning she told the others what you had done, and joked with Sirius, “You know she’s going to make a fine older sister someday.”

“My darling Lily, that would require me setting down, and that is not happening any time soon.” He teased back as you lifted your arms with pride, a clear plate infront of you as you giggled, “Done!”

“Splendid, now thank Auntie Lily for the pancakes, and say goodbye to everyone.” Sirius smiled as you did as instructed, and gave everyone, except Peter, a syrupy kiss on the cheek.

- the day after Sirius did missions for the order he normally wanted nothing more then to spend the day with you, in the flat. Normally you would both do arts and crafts, or he would watch what muggles called VHS tapes. You guys also spent the day eating snack foods, your favorite being Orange Maids, your father’s was chocolate.

-When Harry turned 1, you were excitingly running around the house, Harry crawling after you as the three adults sat on the couch, whispering amongst themselves. You had no idea how the conversation they were having would change your life forever.

-You once asked why Uncle Ooney never came to the flat anymore, to which your dad just told you Moony was sick. You had no idea that they ever suspected him of being a spy.

-The first time you saw Peter in the house at Godric Hollow you felt like something was off, and avoided him more than normal.

-It was two months later, you hadn’t known yet that this would be the last day you saw Auntie Lily, and Uncle Prong. Your father was extremely cautious to make sure you weren’t followed, and carefully snuck into the house. When you were placed onto the ground you took off running through the house, wanting so badly to show off your costume. The whole house was decorated, candles were lit everywhere, and streamers dangled from the living room ceiling. When you entered the kitchen however the counter was lined with food, and Harry sat in a high chair at the table, a tired James sitting beside him, as Lily stood at the stove.

“Uncle Prong, look at my costume!” You instructed, as he looked away from the Cheerios that littered the tray, and smiled at your outfit.

“Wow, we’re identical.” He gasped as you raced over and gave him a hug, Sirius stood in the doorway as Lily looked at the two of you, turning her head slightly she whispered, “Was this her idea, or yours?”

“She told me she wanted to go as Uncle Prong, figured it won’t be too hard to pull off.”

-That night you all stayed in, Lily was playing a muggle show on the tele, while you all sat on the couch eating candy. As your eyes grew heavy, Sirius looked down toward you, and whispered to his friends, “We best be on our way.”

“Oh come now, you only just arrived 5 hours ago, why don’t you two spend the night and in the morning...”

“I would love too, but I unfortunately have to get this little one home, would hate to have her dressed like your ugly mug two days in a row.” Sirius joked as James pretended to be offended.

-You sleepily gave both James and Lily a hug, unfortunately Harry was already asleep in his room so you were unable to say goodbye to the small baby that had been dressed up as a Lion that year.

“I love you.” You softly whispered to them during both of their hugs, they tightened their grip in response and replied back.

James: I love you to the moon and back my dear.

Lily: I love you too my little Prong.

-As soon as you got home, you fell asleep in your costume, Sirius didn’t have the heart to wake you up to change so he just closed your door and let you be

-when you awoke, it was to your father’s screams, and the slamming of the door. When you crawled out of bed, you saw the man your father called Albus, standing in your living room. He lowered his head, and sank to the floor, his eyes watery with tears as his soft weeps overtook him. They only paused however when he felt your soft touch. It was then Dumbledore looked to you, and whispered, “Do you want to go see your Uncle Remus?”

-When Dumbledore arrived to the cottage in the woods Remus had, he softly knocked. Your small frame in his arms, as Remus opened the door. “Remus.” His voice was soft, “The worst has happened.”

-When Dumbledore left, Remus was sitting on the couch, his eyes glassy as he looked towards you, the child of a man he had been convinced to be a traitor. But he knew Sirius, he knew Sirius would never betray his friends, yet.... here you were, no one had any idea where your father was, or how Voldemort died. But he did know one thing, he needed to take care of you while Sirius was away.

-Two days later you saw your father again.... on the front of the Daily Prophet, you would learn later in life he had went away for murdering Peter Pettigrew, the man who really betrayed his friends. But no one would ever know.

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

[doll-collecting-aerialist]

Meet Altynay: Chapter One

(I’d put it under a cut, but I’m on mobile)

Altynay propped her head up on a mountainous stack of pillows, aching to be outside, or anywhere else really, instead of having to hold her baby sister in a stuffy hospital that smelled like alcohol and pee.

The moonlight sparkled on her sister’s red face, permanently fixed in a squabble, even though she was asleep. The clock ticked on the wall.

three am…

When will they be back?

Altynay didn’t let her mind wander for too long, and took out her homework, juggling her workbooks and pencil among the cords that were helping to keep her sister alive.

Your parents need sleep too!! She chided herself. Stop being ungrateful!!

Ungrateful. Ungrateful. Ungrateful. Ever since her sister had been born a month prior, that seemed to be the only word adults used to describe Altynay. If they even noticed her. Usually they went straight for the baby.

Altynay was ungrateful for crying when her mom left in the middle of the night to take her sister back to the emergency room, and she was ungrateful for being upset when the only food in the house happened to be Mayo and a single slice of cheese. She was ungrateful on her birthday when she stormed into her room because everyone brought presents for her sister, but didn’t bring any for her. She was ungrateful. Ungrateful. Ungrateful.

Tears dotted the rough paper of her math notebook as she realized she couldn’t do any of it. She hadn’t gotten much sleep in the past week, and must have zoned out during math class.

“If you don’t do this, you’re going to get another demerit and have to move your behavior clip down to red!!” She gritted her teeth. Her teacher didn’t make exceptions.

Truthfully, the math homework would have been easy on any other day, at home, with a clear mind and some sleep, even without the instruction. Before her sister was born, math was Altynay’s favorite subject, and she could do equations up to Algebra 2.

Altynay took a couple deep breaths and focused back on her worksheet.

“See? It’s just times tables.” She told herself, “You like times tables.”

She finished her homework just as a nurse Altynay didn’t recognize walked into the room.

Altynay gave a small wave. “She’s not had any major changes. She got air in her line a couple minutes ago and I fixed it because the beeping was upsetting me, I hope that’s alright?”

The nurse looked around and gave a dramatic sigh. “Where are your parents??”

Altynay anxiously bit her lip. “They’re in the family room. Mama hasn’t slept in three days, and papa is taking care of her. We have to hold my sister up at an angle or else she aspirates.”

“It’s against policy for children to be left unattended.” The nurse gave Altynay a look as if she should know that.

Altynay did know that as an avid worrier and sign reader, but she had done this before. “The nice charge nurse with the maple leaf scrubs lets me hold her while my parents rest. She says I’m very smart and careful.”

Altynay contemplated asking the nurse if she needed an Advil and some coffee, as that always seemed to soften her parents’ frustration, especially these days, but the nurse was already out the door, no doubt on her way to the family room.

The pit in Altynay’s stomach grew when Mama and Papa appeared in the doorway, the harsh yellow lights in the hallway illuminating just how tired they were.

“I’m sorry.” Altynay whispered, handing her sister over to her dad, as her mom pushed the suitcases together and created a makeshift bed.

Her dad gave her a wretched look before mustering a curt “go play” followed by a “somewhere that’s not in this room” and a “I’ll find you around six am to take you to school.”

Altynay hurriedly shoved an outfit from her suitcase into her school bag before leaving the room. She would change in the school bathroom.

The lights buzzed over Altynay’s head, and her eyes stung from the sudden change from dark to light. Gurneys and wheelchairs pushed past her, all accompanied by herds of people.

But Altynay was alone.

She felt small as she shrunk into a corner of the larger than life elevator. Was she invisible?

“What floor?” A tired looking doctor asked.

At least that was confirmation that she wasn’t completely invisible.

“Five.” She let him punch the number for her. She didn’t actually have a floor in mind. She knew her father would expect to find her on the ground level, or the family services level, but Altynay didn’t want to be findable right then.

Altynay learned quickly that as long as you didn’t look lost, scared or suspicious, that most doctors would brush past you. She wandered the fifth floor, filing the diagrams posted on the wall into her photographic memory, and listening in on conversations. The hospital wasn’t all bad. Altynay wanted to be a surgeon, and she often told herself that this was just a head start.

Sometime later, Altynay found herself being shaken awake by a concerned face. She must have crashed on one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, most certainly not by choice.

“Do you know where your parents are?” The face most certainly didn’t mean to be imposing, and the gentle smile that accompanied the question squashed any off handed remark a rudely awakened Altynay may have otherwise come up with. “Don’t make me go back up there.” Altynay groaned. “I’m not lost, just tired. And I’m not a runaway patient, before you go accusing me of that. My sister is the one who keeps trying to die.”

“I see. Well, why don’t you walk with me?” The doctor held out his hand.

Altynay suspiciously took it. “I’m not going back to my parents. Or my sister. Or that nurse. They’re all mean and I hate them.”

“Are you hungry?” The doctor asked.

Altynay looked up at him, trying to remember the last time she ate. “Maybe. Please no more popsicles, I haven’t had any fruit except that time when my friend’s dad packed her a bushel of bananas for lunch. I want fruit.”

The doctor chuckled. “I can do that.”

Altynay didn’t know why she found herself babbling to someone she barely knew. Normally she was shy and skeptical, but the nice doctor actually seemed to care about her. He didn’t call her ungrateful, or yell at her for trying to help. He found her a fruit salad and tucked her into an unoccupied bed. Altynay didn’t realize how much she missed being treated like a kid. It felt wrong to wish for life before her sister was born, but it was hard for nine-year-old Altynay not to, when days and nights were spent in the hospital, and she could barely remember what her own bedroom looked like. Altynay fell asleep almost immediately, surrounded in swirling images of her baby sister’s unused crib, and all the “can nots” that came shortly after her sister’s birth.

9:00 AM.

Altynay begrudgingly peeled herself out of bed. Late again. At least her homework was done.

Altynay texted Papa on the flip phone her parents gifted her, which was already on its last legs, despite it being “For Emergencies Only.”

Sorry for being late, can you take me to school please? xoxo

She put on her change of clothes as she waited for his reply, thankful that her tardiness meant she wouldn’t have to change in the school bathrooms.

Sorry pumpkin, your sister had a bad night. I should stay here with your mom. Take the bus again? I’ll make it up to you.

Altynay felt a pang of guilt. While she was sleeping, her sister was struggling to stay alive. Mama probably didn’t get the sleep she needed, she thought.

Her eyes stung with tears as she boarded the bus. Papa always said it wasn’t her job to worry about them, but she couldn’t help but feel responsible. She pushed her ball of upset back down, imagining it rolling out of the bus, never to be seen again. It seemed to have grown trifold in the past months.

What mattered now was school. Altynay couldn’t slip, no matter what happened. Afterall, like her teacher said, there were no exceptions.

[starrybethany]

Maybe Someday - Matthew Tkachuk Imagine Part 4

Matthew Tkachuk: Maybe Someday Masterlist

Word count: 3.3K 

It’s kind of awkward at work on Monday. I give Matthew a brief wave in the hallway, unsure of whether to approach him or not, and when he just smiles back and walks away, I decide against it. If he wanted to talk to me, he would. On Tuesday, Charlie stops me in the hallway to ask about the skates.

“Oh, he loves them, thank you so much,” I respond graciously.

“Yeah, anytime,” he waves me off, “Oh, captain.”

My heart flutters at the call out to Matthew. I can’t believe that he’s captain of the Calgary Flames now- I still remember laying on his bed with him late at night, whispering our deepest desires to each other.

He told me that his biggest dream is to win the Stanley Cup as the Calgary Flames captain surrounded by all of his closest friends and family. He’s almost there.

“Hey,” Matthew stops beside me. His body heat radiating onto mine makes me nervous, but I try my best to hide it.

“Hi.”

“How’s her son’s skating?” Charlie grins.

“All three of them did really good,” the captain praises.

I bite back my grin at the compliment.

“All three of them?” Charlie asks in confusion.

“Y/N, her son, and her daughter.”

“You have a son and a daughter?”

I nod, suddenly realizing that we’ve only talked to Charlie about Wyatt. Somehow, Naomi never got brought up in conversation.

“Do you want any more kids?” He questions.

My eyes widen at the inquiry. Truthfully, I’ve never gotten it before. Most people know of my single status and no one asked me and Curtis since we broke up soon after Wyatt’s birth, so I’ve never thought of it too much.

“I don’t- I’ve never- um,” I stutter through the question, feeling hot under Matt and Charlie’s gazes. I know that Charlie is asking it for Matthew, since Matthew has always wanted a big family, but I don’t know what to tell him.

He and I aren’t even dating- I can’t think of him in that sense right now, I just can’t.

Luckily my phone ringing in my pocket saves me. “Excuse me.”

I step to the side, answering the phone with relief. By the time I’m done, Charlie and Matt have already left for practice.

~

Jammies and silly movies are a tradition that we do once a month. On the first weekend of the month, the kids and I spend the Saturday lounging around in our pajamas, eating as much junk food as we want and watching cartoon movies- whatever they want to watch we watch.

Wyatt is snuggled up to me on one side, Naomi allowing me to rest my arm over her shoulder as we watch Hotel Transylvania 2.

My phone ringing on the end table startles me. Truthfully, I don’t get many calls on the weekend. I don’t talk to my family anymore, so no one is inviting me over for dinner, I don’t have many friends- at best, it’s Curtis asking how the kids are.

I answer it, seeing that it’s from Kelsea. “Hello?”

“Oh Y/N, you answered, thank god,” she gasps in relief.

“Kelsea, what’s wrong?”

“There’s an emergency, the floors went in the wrong room and they painted the walls the wrong color and-“”Kelsea, take a deep breath,” I reassure her, despite my panic on the inside. “Look, I’ll be there in about a half an hour, okay? Then we can get it all figured out.”

“Okay.”

I hang up, sighing in frustration. I hate to be ditching my kids, especially when we’re in the middle of one of our favorite traditions. Sometimes, though, work needs to come first- especially when it’s a big project like this.

I know my boss would hand me my ass on a platter if I just left it for Monday.

The kids are still invested in the movie, laughing at the funny comment Mavis just made, so I take the chance to dial up their dad. The phone rings. And rings. And rings. His voicemail begins and I scoff, ending the call.

“Okay kids, sorry to ruin this day but we have to go in to work for a little bit,” I inform them.

“No,” Naomi whines, throwing her head back like a teenager would. “Can’t you just leave us here?”

“You’re six years old Naomi, not sixteen,” I snicker at her remark, pulling her up to stand by her arms. “Come on, it’s just for a little bit. Go throw on some clothes.”

The kids and I climb into the car ten minutes later, Naomi still grumbling about the movie. I promise her that we can finish it later, but she continues to grumble about it as we walk into the building.

Wyatt begins to whine as well, tiredness from missing his afternoon nap kicking in. I pick him up, ignoring the pain in my lower back at the action, and grab Naomi’s hand to pull her down the right hallway.

“Okay, so the floors are in the wrong room, the walls are the wrong color, and what else?” I question, stopping beside Kelsea as she scrolls through her phone in the lounge room.

“We can’t find-oh, you brought company,” she comments, looking up from her phone to notice my kids.

I know, it’s not ideal for me to be bringing my kids in to work, especially when my work is a construction zone. But it was last minute- what was I supposed to do, just dump them on my elderly neighbor? Curtis wouldn’t answer his phone so I couldn’t give them to him.

“Yeah, it was pretty last minute so I couldn’t find a sitter,” I tell her, gripping Naomi’s hand a little bit tighter.

“That’s fine, sorry about this,” she blushes sheepishly. “The wrong hardwood was put in the lounge room, the painters used the paint meant for the trainer’s room in the bathroom, someone broke a bottle of wine on the new floor and no one will admit who did it, and the new orders are delayed.”

“Okay,” I take a deep breath, “We have a lot to get done. Why don’t you call some people to see how much it would cost and what it would take to get the stain out of the new floor, and I’ll call the paint store about getting new paint?”

She nods, heading down the hall towards her office. Unfortunately, I don’t have an office here, so I wrangle the two kids into the empty lounge room and pull out my phone to make the call.

They shout while playing with one another, something that usually makes me smile, but seeing as how everything is going wrong and I’m at work on a Saturday, it makes me even more stressed out.

“Kids, can you be quiet please while I make this call?” I request.

They nod and lower their volume but since the room is empty, it echoes around the space.

“Hey,” a voice states from the doorway, “I thought I heard familiar voices in here.”

I turn around to spot Matthew leaning against the doorframe, Naomi squealing and running across the room towards him while Wyatt follows closely behind.

“Matthew! What are you doing here?” The young girl asks, jumping into Matt’s arms. He picks her up with ease, balancing Wyatt in the other arm.

I try to hide my drool.

“I work here, bud.” He laughs. “What are you doing here?” I know the question is actually directed at me- there’s no reason they would be here if it wasn’t for me.

“A bunch of emergencies,” I sigh. “Do you happen to know who caused that stain?”

I point towards the tennis racquet sized red wine stain on the brand-new hardwood.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but it might have been an old friend of ours,” he gives me that knowing smirk.

“Hanny?”

He does his tell. Turning his head away from me, trying to hide the smile that’s growing on his face.

I widen my eyes, letting out a breath in exasperation.

“Okay, well, guess I know who to shake down now,” I murmur, pulling out my phone and rubbing my forehead in stress.

“Do you, um, maybe want me to take them while you work?”

My head shoots up to look at Matthew. He doesn’t look insecure, like he’s asking out of politeness, but he also doesn’t look confident either- like he thinks that I’ll immediately say no.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I could just hang out with them and show them around while you handle some things.”

I think about it. The kids know him, he’s good with them- that much I can tell by watching how he dealt with them while ice skating and the way he’s gripping onto them now. He’s clearly going to keep a watchful eye on them so nothing will happen to them.

I need to stop being an overprotective mom who needs to be by her kids 24/7. Maybe it’ll be good for them to spend time with something besides me or Curtis.

“Thank you, Matthew,” I smile at him. I can tell he’s surprised by how quickly I accepted, thinking that it would take longer than that to convince me.

“Just text me when you need them back,” he responds, slipping out the door and saying something to the kids to make them giggle.

I can’t help but smile, letting the weight lift off of my shoulders. I still have so much to do, but that’s two less things, or people, to worry about.

~

“Noah Hanifin, just the person I wanted to see,” I state as I step out of the lounge room into the hallway an hour later, calls to the paint store and the manufacturers for the delayed orders made.

He’s bouncing a ball against the wall, something I’ve never understand until Matt explained to me that it’s for coordination.

“Y/N, hey I heard you were working here,” he greets me, stopping his bouncing to give me a mock salute.

“And I heard that you spilt wine on the new floors in the lounge room,” I respond.

“Tkachuk,” Noah curses under his breath, clearly plotting revenge for his captain.

“Doesn’t it sound fair that you pay to replace them, then?”

“Yeah I guess I can do that,” he shrugs like it’s no problem. It probably isn’t to him, the Flames posted the other day about his new, expensive contract.

“Good, I’ll give you the bill when I see you next,” I grin at him, turning to find Kelsea.

“Hey, I saw your kids with Chucky earlier,” he comments before I could walk away.

I turn around slowly, unsure of where this conversation is going.

The balls make little thuds as they hit the wall. “I haven’t seen him that happy in a long time.”

My heart drops into my stomach at that remark. I hope with all of my heart that it’s just because he’s around kids- he always did like kids. I hope that it has nothing to do with spending more time with me.

“It’s good to see you two back together again. I can tell you’ve grown in the last couple of years,” he continues.

“We’re not dating,” I mumble.

“You’re not? So, you’re trying to hurt him again?” He pauses the bouncing, choosing to raise an eyebrow at me.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid, Noah,” I exclaim.

“Well, I don’t think you’re doing a very good job at it.”

I fold my arms across my chest, looking down the hallway in thought. “What can I do about it now, though? He’s attached to my kids and they’re attached to him.”

“Ask him out.”

He acts like it’s that simple.

“It’s not that easy, Noah,” I murmur.

“Then make it that easy.”

The conversation ends when Kelsea calls out my name, ushering me down the hall towards her. I try my best to focus on my conversation with her and fixing the numerous problems that have arisen, but I can’t get Noah’s words out of my heads.

I don’t want to date him out of fear of hurting him again- but if I don’t date him, I’m hurting him again.

Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

~

By the time all of the fires are put out, I’m exhausted, and I want nothing more than to watch Mavis show up all of the kids at the skatepark.

“Mommy!” I turn around to spot my two children running down the hallway towards me, clothes covered by baggy Flames jerseys falling off of their bodies.

I wrap my arms around them, pulling them into a tight hug and kissing their temples. My eyes move up to see Matt walking down the hall towards us slowly, a smile of adoration gracing his face. I pull away from the kids, rising to my feet and tugging at Naomi’s sleeve.

“What is this?”

“Matty said that we couldn’t go to the game without his jersey,” Naomi informs me.

“It’s rigilous,” Wyatt adds.

My eyebrows scrunch in confusion, trying to decipher what he’s trying to say. “What?”

“Rigilous,” Wyatt repeats.

“Ridiculous,” Matthew laughs. The toddler nods in confirmation.

My eyes widen when I realize what they just told me. “We’re going to the game?”

“Yeah,” Naomi cheers.

The curly-haired man gives me an apologetic look, knowing he promised them something without discussing it with me first.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But they really want to go tonight- if you’re too tired I can see if one of the other wives or girlfriends can watch them,” he suggests.

I narrow my eyes at the suggestion. Nobody’s going to be taking my children to their first hockey game except me. He looks startled at my sudden mood swing, and honestly, he should be.

You don’t promise kids something without talking to their parent first- it’s similar to Curtis promising Wyatt that he could play hockey without discussing it with me, except Matt has no relation to the kids except through our friendship.

“No, I want to be with them.”

He nods hesitantly, looking at his watch and giving it a disapproving look. “I have to start getting ready soon. Do you want me to show you to your seats?”

“Yeah,” I reach out to grab Wyatt’s hand and hold my other one out to Naomi. To my and Matt’s surprise, she grabs Matt’s hand instead. I watch as he tightens his grip on the small girl and begins to lead the way down the hallway.

“What did you guys do today?” I ask, mainly to my children but also asking my ex-boyfriend.

“We met Matty’s teammates,” Naomi cheers. I wonder when she started calling him Matty- clearly sometime today, since I’m pretty sure she was calling him Matthew earlier. I guess she feels a lot more comfortable with him now that she got to spend the day with him.

“And played hockey,” Wyatt continues.

“You played hockey?” I repeat.

“We have some mini sticks laying around,” Matt informs me.

“Mommy, guess what,” Naomi gathers my attention.

“What?”

“Wyatt and I beat Matty and Sam at hockey.”

“You did? Good job, guys, I’m proud of you!”

“Thanks, mommy,” she turns around to send me a beaming smile. When she’s turned back around, Matthew turns around to do the same. My heart stops in my chest at the gesture. Him, holding my daughter’s hand, smiling at me, leading me through the halls of the Scotiabank Saddledome so I can see him play for the first time in about seven years- there’s something so, domestic. Something so familiar.

And I can’t put my finger on it, but I want it in my life more.

~

The Flames end the night with a win. I want to celebrate and feel excited for the team, especially Matthew, but I feel so drained and all I want to do is tuck my kids into bed and go to sleep.

I’m buckling a half-asleep Wyatt’s seatbelt when a voice calls my name. I glance over my shoulder to see Matthew approaching us, an unbuttoned coat showing off his suit. I can’t help but swoon at the sight.

“Good game, Matty, congratulations on the win,” I tell him, the exhaustion evident in my voice.

His smile transforms to a look of concern when he hears my words. “Thanks. Are you, uh, alright?”

“Just really tired,” I give him a tight-lipped smile. “I want to get home and put these guys in bed quickly.”

“Y/N, you look rough,” he tells me honestly.

I laugh at that. “Thanks.”

“No, seriously,” he states, “I don’t think you should be driving in this state.”

I sigh. “I don’t really have a choice. I just want to get the kids home.”

“Well, let me help you,” he offers.

I give him a confused expression. “What do you-“”I can drive you guys home and help you tuck the kids in to bed.”

“I couldn’t ask you-“”But you’re not asking, I’m offer. Actually, I’m demanding,” he smirks at me, moving to open the passenger side’s door for me.

I roll my eyes but finish buckling Wyatt’s seatbelt and close the door, sitting in the seat and letting Matt close it behind me.

“I forgot how tiny you are,” he chirps me, moving the seat back so he can sit comfortably. I give him an unamused look at the chirp, but it makes his grin widen even more.

“What about your car?” I ask as he pulls out of the parking garage.

“Hanny drove me here today,” he responds.

“Don’t you want to let Noah know that you don’t need a ride home?”

He shrugs me off. “He’ll figure it out.”

I scoff at his nonchalant attitude but don’t respond, turning to stare out the window in amazement. I can’t remember the last time I was the passenger in a car, and not the driver who had to worry about listening to two kids talk about their days and passing them snacks and drinks.

He gets my address since it’s already programmed into my car, meaning that I can doze off on the twenty-minute drive home.

“Hey, baby,” he shakes my shoulder gently, rising me from my light slumber.

“Hm?”

“We’re home.”

“We’re home?” I echo. He chuckles and I open my eyes to see him giving me a soft smile, obviously amused by my tired state.

I yawn, stretching my arms before opening my car door. “I’ll get Naomi, you get Wyatt?”

“You just go straight to bed,” he assures me.

“Matt-“”Y/N,” he interrupts sternly, giving me a familiar look that I know better than to argue.

I enter the kids’ rooms and set out their pajamas for them before changing and doing my nighttime routine, laying on my bed and hoping for a few more moments of relaxation before I have to go put them to bed.

I’m awoken a while later by the other side of the blanket being lifted, a body sliding under the. covers beside me.

“What are you doing?” I mumble, opening my eyes just enough to see Matt as the guilty party.

“Sleeping next to you,” he answers quietly. I nod, too sleep deprived to tell him otherwise. Plus, I’m not going to kick him out of my house when it’s nearly midnight and he doesn’t have a safe way to get home.

“Did you change the kids and tuck them in?” I question, hoping he says yes just for the sole purpose of me not having to get up and out of this cozy bed.

“Yes.” He reaches a hand forward, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Without even processing it, my hand reaches forward, fingers gliding up and down his forearm. He relaxes into my touch and for the first time since we reconnected, everything between us feels complete.

We were always meant to end up in bed together, exhaustion and exhilaration all setting in.

I just wish my clearheaded self would realize that.

[evening-starlight]

Daddy’s Best Friend

Tag List is OPEN - Dm or comment if you’d like to join

All Works Master List

DBF Master List

8

Word Count: 1450

    Amaris takes a steadying breath as she knocks on Tom's front door. It had been two weeks since the family dinner, and the forbidden lovers have kept their distance to avoid any more conflicting feelings. The only reason she's here is because Armel is busy in a night class, and her father is using the house for a business meeting.

    The siblings came up with movie night tradition when Will first started to hold meetings in their family home. Tom was the first to offer, wanting to spend more time with his honorary family.

    So when William told them about his meeting, they all rejoiced that they got to go back to their favorite tradition with Tom. Only, Amaris was freaking out on the inside. She had an hour between when her dad's meeting started and when her siblings would come to Tom's. Amaris was going to spend time with Armel; instead, he was going to a late-night class.

    And here Amaris was, standing in front of Tom's door with a pounding heart. She knew she shouldn't be this nervous to see her best friend; he was always there for her. But that doesn't change the fact that when Tom opens the door in a tight white tee and grey sweats, her heart skipped a beat or two.

    Tom won't lie, he chose that shirt for a reason. Maybe a little subconsciously, but he went with it. If he can't have Amaris, Tom's going to show her what she's missing. He smiles brightly, welcoming her with a signature Tom bear hug. "I'm so pleased we're doing this again." He smiles.

    Everything was normal, Amaris had to remind herself as she stepped inside his home and slipped off her shoes. "I've missed our movie nights so much. The ones with Armel just didn't hit right," Tom smiles smugly as he leads the way to the kitchen, where he's cooking popcorn three different ways. One batch with no seasoning or butter for Danica, one with extra butter and salt for Juno, and a double batch of kettle popcorn for Tom and Amaris.

    "Armel isn't as experienced as I am, so that doesn't surprise me," Tom says, his back to Amaris as he returns his attention to the popcorn pot. Amaris gets hit with a wall of emotions with the phrase. But why?

    "What's that supposed to mean?" She asks defensively as she sits on the counter, eating bits of Danica's popcorn bowl.

    "Nothing, just that I have more experience making your movie nights the best." Tom shrugs, smiling over his shoulder at her. Amaris looks skeptical, eyeing Tom over while she eats a handful of plain popcorn. "When did you start eating that shit?" He asks, gesturing to his least favorite kind of popcorn.

    "Armel eats his popcorn like Danica does, so I got used to it. Though, I can't wait to have your kettle corn again. I've craved it." Tom laughs at Amaris throws her head back, dramatically inhaling the scent of kettle corn before humming. "So good," She says as she dips her hand into her sister's bowl again.

    Tom smacks her hand playfully. "Quit that; you won't have enough for my amazing kettle corn." Amaris visibly pouts but giggles as she thrusts her hand in Tom's face.

    "Kiss it better; you hurted me." Tom throws his head back in a full belly laugh before leaning in and kisses Amaris's hand better, maintaining eye contact. It shouldn't be as erotic as it felt to either of them. It was nothing more than friendly antics they've shared before.

    The tense silence that fell over them is cut short when the popcorn starts popping, tearing Tom apart her and his hand out of hers, where it belonged. They stay silent longer, thinking over the events that unfolded seconds ago.

    "You know?" Amaris asks, changing the subject. Tom hums in response, glancing over at her. "You should teach Armel how to make the kettle corn. I think he'd enjoy your version of it." Tom rolls his eyes before putting on a fake smile.

    "I'd love to teach your little french boy how to cook," The minute the words leave his mouth, Tom regrets it. He sees Amaris shift uncomfortably in her spot at the harsh words he used.

    "What's your problem with Armel?" She asks as Tom pours the kettle corn in a bowl to cool down. Tom thinks over his words. He could tell her everything; that he's confused but can't stop thinking about that gorgeous mouth on his or stop thinking about having her in his bed.

    But he won't. "I don't have a problem, darling. I'm just saying I'd love to..." He's cut off by Amaris raising her voice slightly.

    "That's bullshit, Tom. You shut off when I bring up Armel and get snippy in your comments about him." She slips off the counter, standing with her arms crossed. "So what is it? Did he say something to you you're protecting me from?"

    "I'm not protecting you from him," Tom huffs, running a hand through his hair. He can't say much more because if he does, he'll ruin everything.

    "Than who are you protecting me from, Tom?" Amaris asks, voice softening.

    Tom lets out a frustrated sigh followed by, "Myself, Mari." The words hang in the air between them, and Tom wishes he could take them back. But they're out there, so he might as well finish. "I know it's wrong, but I can't stop these feelings. I told you I didn't remember the kiss because I didn't want to. It was wrong to be kissing you, but I can't stop thinking about how perfect it felt since then. But you're with Armel like you should be. He makes you happy and loves you more than I ever could," He finishes, watching for any change in Amaris's demeanor. She stays shocked, processing the words coming out of Tom's mouth.

    "I dated Armel to get you out of my head," She admits. "He makes me happy, yes, but he's not you. You're the one I've always wanted Tom," Amaris steps closer to Tom. "You're the only guy who's been able to keep my attention longer than six months. I've wanted to know what you tasted like since I was old enough to know what kissing was," She whispers, lips hovering over Tom's.

    She shouldn't be doing this. She's with Armel, and he loves Amaris so much. But this is everything Amaris has dreamed about for years, only this time he's sober. They stay there, lips a breath away for what feels like an eternity. Both of them wanted this, so why was it so hard to make that final move.

    Amaris takes the final leap, connecting her lips to Tom's. This was her choice, and Tom didn't force it. He was waiting for her to take the chance, for it to be her choice.

    Tom's hands cup Amaris's face, bringing her closer while her hands wrap around the outside of his bicep that strains against the white shirt. The kiss caused sparks to fly in both of their minds, sending shockwaves down to their toes.

    The kitchen counter bumps Amaris's bum as Tom backs her up. "Jump," He mumbles against her lips, helping her sit back on the counter where she was minutes ago. Tom rests one hand on the small of her back, pulling her chest flush against his while the other tangles itself in her hair. Meanwhile, Amaris has one hand on his well-toned bicep and the other in his hair.

    Kissing Tom was everything Amaris imagined it would be. His lips worked against hers gracefully yet passionately. They felt like nothing she's ever felt before, raising goosebumps along her arm and neck.

    Tom deepens the kiss by biting on her lower lip, enticing small moans out of Amaris's mouth, which Tom finds stunningly sublime. She pulls a small fistful of hair at his actions, pulling a low groan out of him.

    The sound sends a pulse to her center, making her scoot closer on the counter towards Tom. He was like a drug to her, and she never wanted to come up for air. The kiss was all she ever needed to continue living. Fuck food and water; she just needed Tom's lips on hers.

    They jump apart at the sound of the doorbell, startled out of their daydream. The couple stare at each other in shock, still holding each other. Amaris is the first to break out, pushing Tom out of the way to get to the restroom. She turns around to look at him first, pointing a finger at him. "No one can know. Understood?"

    "Understood."

Taglist: @queenofallhobos​ @kingtwhiddleston​ @cynic-spirit​

[baubabble]

“Subtle Differences” Final Part - Hotch x F!Reader

PART I    PART II

Summary: You and the rest of the team head to take down the Unsub as the search for the killer and Allison Wilson comes to a close. You and Hotch team up to take the loft, having each other’s backs. With all the unresolved tension between the two of you, will you finally make the first move? Or will he? Final Part of Subtle Differences. 

Word Count: 4064

Warning: CM Violence, Blood

Song I Wrote To: “Next To Me” by Imagine Dragons

Note: Thank you all for sticking with me on this one! I was only planning on making this a one-shot, but I had too much to say! My next CM work is going to be Reid x Reader and will be just one part, but I have other ideas too. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. 

-------

Standing in the locker room of the SPD, you struggled with your bulletproof vest. 

Frustrated, you tore it off and started again. “Let me.” Hotch’s soft voice reached your ears as he walked up behind you. You let go of the straps and he tightened the vest around your torso. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he fastened the velcro straps, his hands pressing along your stomach and shoulders. 

Hotch trailed his hand down your spine and you let your eyes close at his touch. He then rested his forehead against the back of your head, closing his eyes as he took a moment to be calm. Slowly, you reached your hand towards him and after hesitating for a second, you grabbed his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers with his. 

This was the most physical contact you had had with him. You stayed like that and something felt so intimate of just being in each other’s space. You could hear his breathing and feel the way he leaned into your back. This was much more than just a few gazes or smiles on the odd occasion. 

Aaron was touching you as if he had been waiting to do it for a while. Maybe it was because you were about to put yourself into the line of fire or because he was finally willing to take a step in your direction. Whatever it was, you were drinking it in.

Moving your hair off your neck, he flattened the last strap, letting his hands linger on your shoulders for a moment as he pressed his nose into your hair. Delicate fingers traced the skin at the top of your spine and you shuddered beneath his touch.

Neither of you said anything as you stilled in your small moment. 

Eventually, Aaron released your hand and leaned back. “Are you okay?” he asked and at the worry in his voice, you turned around to face him.

He was already outfitted in his vest, his earpiece hanging around his neck while his sidearm sat on his hip as always. He looked down at you with concern in those beautiful eyes of his. In that silent locker room, all you wanted to do was hold his face between your hands, but you had a job to do.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. 

“Are you sure? If you need more time, I can have you run communications from here,” he said. You gave him a small smile, fighting to keep your hands at your sides. 

“Aaron,” you breathed and his eyes locked onto yours, nearly taking your breath away entirely, “I’m okay. I promise.” Hotch nodded and then handed you an earpiece. 

“Alright,” he said, smoothing his hands down your arms before stepping away. “Let’s go. You’re riding with me.”

————

Following Aaron out to the SUVs you placed your earpiece into your ear and double-checked your weapon. Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Perotta were taking one SUV, while you, Rossi, Reid, and Hotch took the other. Sliding in next to Spencer, you pushed up your sleeves and caught a glimpse of the scar that now permanently marked your arm. Spencer was watching you, but you ignored him as Hotch started the engine and began driving towards Belltown. 

On the way there, Garcia called the entire team. “Okay, superheroes,” she said in greeting, “I have the 411 on our guy. Alan Rhett, thirty-two-years-old, born in Spokane and moved to the big city only a couple years ago. He’s worked for Ground Express for the past six months and before that never really held a steady job.”

“What else?” JJ asked. 

“Well, this guy is smart and by smart, I mean crazy smart! He holds two degrees, one in art history and the other in structural engineering. I wouldn’t put it past him to have his place enforced with some kind of fancy doodads,” said Garcia.

“I hate when they’re smart,” Rossi said and you smirked. 

“Garcia, is there any history with a woman in his life?” Reid asked. 

“Definitely, my tall friend,” Penelope said. “When Alan was seven, his mother went missing for almost two weeks. It turned out that she had fallen into a vat of chemicals at the factory that she worked at. It ended up preserving her body until the foreman found her a week and half after she died. Yikes, it says she drowned in the stuff.”

“Well, there’s the stressor,” you said. “But what was the trigger? It couldn’t have just been that one painting.”

“From the medical reports I am seeing, it looks like after his mother died, dad just shoved him onto his grandmother who wasn’t the nicest of people. She blamed Alan for his mother’s death and even abused him at times. Oh god, she used to burn him with hot candle wax,” Garcia said.

“Garcia, what happened to the grandmother?” Hotch asked. 

“One second,” Penelope said, “oh, she died one week before Mason Walker was killed.” 

“There’s the trigger,” Spencer said.

“When we get on scene,” Hotch began, “Dave and Prentiss, I want you to take the Westside while Morgan and Perotta take the East. JJ and Reid take the back. (Y/L/N) and I are going to go through the front. Our priority is finding Allison. There is a good chance she is still alive.” 

“One more thing,” Garcia said. “It seems there is a firearm registered in the unsub’s name and according to his bank records, he bought ammo for it just before Mason’s abduction.”

“He won’t hesitate to shoot his way out,” Morgan reminded everyone. 

“Which makes him that much more dangerous,” said Hotch. “Everyone needs to be vigilant and remember this usub is smart and is unhinged.” 

“Stay safe and come home,” Garcia said. 

“Always,” Rossi said and then you arrived at the loft. 

————

The team split up into the designated teams and after speaking with SWAT and Perotta’s men, you entered the building. 

The loft was a solitary unit on an abandoned street. Everything else around it was either torn down or foreclosed. You kept close to Hotch as you two entered the front of the building. SWAT officers took the side corridors as you and Aaron moved into the main building. 

Keeping your guns up, you had his back, keeping the both of you safe as you cleared each room. At the end of the main hallway, a pair of double doors stood ajar. You ran ahead, bracing your hand on the door handle. You waited for Hotch’s signal. He kept his gun balanced and then nodded to you.

With a swift pull, the door opened and Hotch rushed in. You followed close by, ready to cover him at all costs. However, when you both entered the secondary hallway, it was empty of threat. Though, something else had made you both pause. “What the hell…” you whispered as you slowly lowered your gun. 

The dark corridor was speckled with electric torches that created an eerie glow. The walls were painted a dark charcoal color and dripping down every inch of them was thick, red wax. The same wax that Rhett had covered his victims in. 

“Do you think he considers this art?” You asked Hotch as you began walking again. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Aaron said, keeping away from the wax. The entire scene looked like something out of a horror movie. You suddenly felt very closed in as if the walls were moving toward you. Swallowing thickly, you tried to stay focused as you followed him. 

At the end of the hallway, there was another door. Light was coming from the crack at the bottom and you could smell something...putrid. You and Hotch moved towards it. Aaron’s face was full of determination as he scanned your surroundings. The rest of your team were speaking in your ears, explaining that they were clearing rooms. 

The two of you had stayed silent since entering the wax-filled hallway. Pressing your ear against the door, you tried to hear anything that would indicate what was on the other side, but nothing was reading through the thick wood. You shook your head at Hotch. You then tried the doorknob and it didn’t budge. Stepping back, you gave Aaron some room. He braced himself and then with a sharp kick of his right leg, the door gave way and Aaron rushed forward.

The next moment moved in slow motion. As soon as the door flew open, you had a split second to react. Reaching out, you grabbed Hotch before he even realized why you were doing it. Dropping your weapon, you took hold of his arm and pulled him backwards into you. He stumbled but held onto you as you steadied him.

You were flush against him as you gripped him tight. He was breathing heavily, as were you, as you stared at one another. Your breath mingled with his as you tried to keep your heart rate under control. You failed miserably. His eyes were on yours as if he was drinking you in and for a fraction of a second, his gaze turned to your lips that were slightly parted. 

You wanted to enjoy the moment, but the air hit your nose and it was near acidic. Breaking the gaze, you looked to your left and your mouth fell open. “Hotch…” you whispered. You reached up and took hold of his chin, turning his face towards the open doorway. 

Confused, he fully turned and saw what had you shocked. On the other side of the door, the ground was nonexistent. The floor was dug out significantly and now resembled a very deep Olympic-sized swimming pool. The red wax-filled this room as well and at the bottom of the pit were four skeletons and two other bodies that were well beyond recognition. All six sets of remains had been coated in the unsub’s signature blend of wax and clay. 

“Morgan and I were right,” you whispered in horror, “he’s been doing this for a while.” Hotch shook his head in disgust as he looked around the hallway behind you when he spotted something the two of you had missed.

“There,” he said, gesturing to another door that was ajar just to the right of the mass grave you now stood above. Hotch leaned down and grabbed your gun, placing it in your hand. “Are you with me?” 

“Always,” you said without hesitation, and then the two of you disappeared through the door as the smell of death and decay followed after you into the darkness. 

———

The rest of the hallways were void of the horror show from the first. 

Whatever the building had been before Rhett had taken it as his home, it definitely wasn’t usually inhabited by people. Rats scurried at your feet and you fought the urge to shoot every single one. Pushing through the final set of doors, you met up with Rossi and Prentiss who had entered from the other side. 

“Anything?” Prentiss asked.

“We have more bodies,” Hotch explained. “He’s been doing this for longer than we thought.” Prentiss grimaced and then a muffled cry drew your attention followed by a crash. All four of you ran towards the sound that came from behind a partition at the far side of the room. Rossi and Hotch tossed it aside and there, lying on a surgical table, was Allison Wilson. A funnel was placed into her mouth as she was strapped down and fighting her restraints. 

You ran to her side, pulling the contraption out of her throat as Emily released her bonds. Allison was crying as you held onto her. “It’s okay, Allison, we’re the FBI,” you told her, helping her sit up. 

“Thank you, thank you,” she sobbed. 

“Where is he?” Hotch asked. Allison pointed to a stairwell.

“Roof,” she croaked out. “He has a gun.” Prentiss took hold of Allison, calling for medics while Rossi urged you and Hotch to go after the unsub while he secured the scene. You and Aaron raced for the stairwell. 

“Rhett is heading to the roof,” Hotch said to the others over the coms. 

“On our way,” JJ said back. You took the stairs two at a time as you prepared yourselves for what you were running into. Breaking through the roof access door, you were immediately met with gunfire. You and Aaron dove for cover behind the air conditioning unit, hitting the ground hard. 

“You okay?” Aaron asked, checking you over. You nodded and then rolled to the other side, ready to fire back as needed. You took calming breaths as the phantom shots were now very much real. Aaron gestured for you to flank Rhett from the left and you move silently along the roof.  

“Alan Rhett!” Hotch yelled. “It’s over! We found your other victims and we have Allison!” 

“You have nothing!” Rhett yelled back. 

“We also have Terry Owens!” you said. “Remember him? The man you tortured?” 

“He was a coward. They all are!” 

“Who is ‘they’, Alan?” you asked. 

“Everyone!” he shouted and you peeked around the corner and saw Rhett was waving his gun back and forth, trying to target you and Hotch. His hands were covered in the wax and his eyes were wild. 

“How did you get the women to cooperate, Alan?” Hotch asked. “Did you threaten them?” 

“It was easy,” Rhett said with a laugh. “I knew where they lived with their precious families.” You cringed at his words. His ruse was simple, threaten the victims’ family and you’ll get them to do anything. It was textbook. “Doesn’t matter. They were going to leave their families anyways!” 

“Like your mother left you?” Hotch asked, getting to his feet and moving to be in Rhett’s line of sight. You followed his movements on the other side of the unsub. 

“Shut up!” Rhett yelled. “Don’t talk about her!”

“It was an accident, Alan,” you said as he looked wildly at you. “She didn’t leave you on purpose.”

“She did! They all do!” 

“Is that why you kill the women the way you do? To preserve them as art?” you asked, taking a couple of steps closer to him.

“(Y/N),” Hotch warned, but you ignored him. 

“You wanted them to be beautiful and for them to be eternal like paintings. Right?” Rhett was nodding. “I saw your work downstairs. It was very nice,” you said, trying to find a thread to pull on.

“You think so?” he asked, his gaze falling on you as if he wasn’t quite looking at you. 

“Yes, Alan,” you said. “You are a true artist. Why don’t you put the gun down and you can show me more?” Rhett was smiling at you now, but his gun never wavered. 

“They were my best work,” he said. “I worked so hard on them, but I never did seem to be able to get them just right.” Hotch moved in closer as you faced down the killer. “You know what? You would be so perfect,” Rhett said before turning his gun on you. You didn’t have time to react as a gunshot echoed around you. 

However, when it was over and you checked yourself, there wasn’t a scratch on you. Instead, Rhett lay on the ground with a single bullet hole in his forehead as Hotch stood with his gun raised, breathing hard. “Hotch!” Morgan’s voice came as he, JJ, Perotta, and Reid came running across the roof from the Southside. 

“We’re okay!” Hotch yelled back. Morgan reached you first, grabbing your arm. 

“I’m okay,” you promised him. He then went to check on Hotch as Reid and JJ went to you. “Son of a bitch was gonna shoot me,” you said. 

“You seem to be making that a habit,” Spencer said, giving you a hug. “Let’s try to break that, okay?”

“Yeah, Doc,” you said, squeezing him back. “I like that idea a lot.” 

------

Once you were back on the street, you went to find Allison. 

You got there just as the medics were loading her into the ambulance. Emily was with her, holding her hand the whole time. The ringing of the gunshot was still fresh in your mind, but you were slowly calming down as everything was coming to a close. The killer was dead, Allison was safe, and now you had the opportunity to give closure to even more families from the victims you found on the first floor. 

“Not a bad first case back,” Rossi said as he joined you. 

“If you say so,” you said with a shrug. Rossi pulled you into his side and you rested your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked. 

“For being you,” you said simply. Rossi squeezed you tighter. 

“Any time, kid.”

Spotting Perotta, you excused yourself and headed over to the detective. 

“Detective Perotta,” you greeted. He turned to you with a smile. 

“Good work, Agent (Y/L/N),” he said. “I can’t thank you and your team enough. I can’t even imagine what would have happened if he had continued.” 

“You would have caught him eventually,” you assured him. 

“More people would have died without the BAU and for that, I am grateful for your help,” he said and then offered his hand. You took it, shaking it twice. 

“Good luck with everything, Perotta,” you said and then turned to go. As you headed to the SUVs, you caught sight of Aaron as he spoke with the police chief. Your eyes met his and you smiled at him. He gave you his signature smirk and nodded. Ducking your head, you got in the car and let all the tension in your body sink into the leather seats. You were ready to go home.

-------

You were the first one on the jet. 

You sat in your seat, leaning back as you waited for the rest of the team. When the door opened, you expected to see Emily or Spencer, but instead, it Aaron and he was alone. “Hey,” you greeted, sitting up straighter. Hotch placed his bag down and then joined you, sitting next to you in the plush chairs. “Where is everyone?” 

“They’re on their way,” he said, peeling off his jacket and laying it over the back of his seat. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I just needed a moment alone, you know? Collect my thoughts,” you said and he nodded. 

“How are you really?” he asked with a knowing look. You sighed, unable to resist him, especially when he looked at you with those wonderful eyes of his. 

“I’m still a bit shaken,” you admit. 

“I figured,” Aaron said softly. The two of you just sat there for a moment, listening to the pilot doing his pre-checks and you were reminded of the moment in the locker room. It now seemed like a lifetime ago rather than just this afternoon. Aaron had never been so...open with you. You longed for his touch now. Even if it was something as subtle as tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. The thought alone made your skin feel as if it was on fire. “You did well today,” he complimented, taking you out of your thoughts. 

“So did you,” you said. 

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he said, and then his fingers trailed along the scar that spanned along your arm. His touch felt like electricity as he moved back and forth. 

“Thank you, Aaron,” you said softly. “Thank you for having my back today.” His fingers stilled on your arm and then they moved towards your hand. His movements were methodical and he was taking his time just as he had earlier at the precinct. 

“We make a good team, don’t we?” he asked, looking at you from under his lashes. Just as you had before, you rotated your hand and laced your fingers with his. 

“Yeah, we do,” you said and then swallowed thickly. Aaron’s thumb began rubbing circles along the back of your hand and then he slowly lifted his other hand to your cheek. You didn’t breathe as he moved in closer. Aaron pressed his nose against yours, tilting your head up so he could get a better angle, and then, he kissed you. 

It was as if fireworks were going off inside your head, replacing the barrage of gunfire with bright colors. Aaron kissed you with a tenderness you didn’t even know he was capable of. His hand left yours and came up to cup the other side of your face. Instead of fire, all you felt was warmth as Aaron Hotchner held you. You kissed him back with as much emotion as you could muster at that moment. 

Eventually, he pulled back and his warm breath cascaded over your lips. Leaning his forehead against yours, he smiled. “It’s about time that happened,” you said with a smile of your own. Aaron chuckled, leaning back slightly, but keeping his hands on the sides of your neck. 

“I’d have done it sooner if I had picked up on your...subtleties,” he said, his thumbs rubbing against your skin. You tilted your head to the side slightly, looking up at him. 

“And I thought you were a profiler,” you teased. Aaron raised a brow, leaning in again. 

“Funny,” he said, “I thought the same thing about you.” His lips met yours again and this kiss was anything but tender. Hotch gripped you tighter as he kissed you with a fierceness only he had. You gripped him by the shoulders, pulling him even closer to you. Aaron nudged your lips apart as he explored your mouth further, savoring the way the two of you just fit perfectly together. Your hands crawled up his neck, fingers cascading through his dark hair.

You had imagined many times what it would feel like to be kissed by Aaron Hotchner, but nothing had prepared you for the real thing. He was gentle and passionate and every move he made had you sinking into him further. It was the best kind of high you had ever experienced. 

When you both had to breathe, you pulled back, and with kiss-swollen lips, you pecked him once more. “So, does this mean that I pass my eval?” you asked with a smirk. Aaron rolled his eyes. 

“It was never in question, (Y/N),” he admitted, “I just needed an excuse to be close to you.” 

“Weren’t very subtle about it, Aaron,” you teased. 

“I knew you’d catch on eventually,” he said with a smile. Aaron kissed you again until he heard the team approaching and then he pulled back with a sigh. “How long do you think we have before they all figure it out?” he asked. 

“Rossi already knows,” you said, leaning away from him.

“Does he?” Aaron asked, amused. 

“Apparently, I am a lot easier to read than I first thought,” you said with a shrug. Aaron reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his touch linger before pulling away. 

“On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read.”

“Is that so?” you asked, intrigued. He nodded.

“However, I am very much looking forward to learning how.” You smiled at his words just as the team boarded, talking animatedly. The two of you smoothed your shirts and hair before anyone noticed anything, but Dave had caught you immediately. Rossi winked at the both of you and you thought you would die of embarrassment right there, but then, you felt a warm hand on your leg. Hotch gripped your thigh, rubbing it soothingly and you felt calmer already.

The rest of the team followed Rossi onto the jet, completely oblivious to what had just transpired onboard. Rossi sat across from you and Hotch so you could be close to one another just in case another member of the team caught something. You would have liked at least the next six hours to be just about you and Hotch and hopefully, they would be. 

Leaning back in your seat, Hotch kept his hand on you at all times and as you flew across the country, light began to shine through the small breaks in the window shudders and at that moment, you had never felt more at peace.

“Sunrise is the reminder that we can start new beginning all over again." - Rupal Asodaria