#children of y/n's become y/n of their own story and so on and so forth))

[skzimagines]

"A love story."

It was no secret that Hwang Hyunjin was in love. He hadn't meant to tell anyone, but he writes it in his poetry, paints it in his pictures, talks about it when his mind drifts off about her and doesn't ever realize he's even doing it.

He pictured their lives together, how perfect they would be. How perfect he would make sure to make it. He'd give her the moon if he could. Buy her a beautiful house, with a perfect garden, give her beautiful children, even a huge, family-oriented wedding. Anything for her. She'd name it and he'd get it for her. There was just one thing though....

She didn't feel the same.

It's not that she didn't "like" Hyunjin. He is sweet, caring, artistic and of course beautiful. She just knew she was way out of his league. He was a straight A student, a perfect dancer... hell, the guy knew how to paint like Van Gough.... just for fun! And she was struggling to get good grades, barely made it through the year without calling it quits.

Even if she thought she had a chance with him, it was quickly swept under the rug by the thought of him being able to find so much better.

The two shared friend groups, so they were often times around each other. Which Hyunjin loved and to which she hated... not because he was around, but because she fell for him more and more every time, she was within two feet of him.

The group decided to have a picnic at the nearby park, since everyone had the day off. Getting together was next to impossible these days.

"You're going to fall on your face, idiot!" "I am proud to let you know... Iam very good with my hands!" Changbin and Han bicker back and forth as Changbin hangs from the monkey bars upside down. His face turns red from being in the position for longer than he should have been. "Just get down, cause we're not going to the hospital if you get hurt. I want to go home." Han laughs.

Further down the lawn, where they've laid out a blanket in the grass, setting all of their things together. Sits Hyunjin and y/n. Everyone has ran along and started their own things, leaving the two behind.

"Do you ever think they'll stop bickering?" She chuckles, asking Hyunjin. "Probably, maybe when pigs learn to fly." His face contorts into a disgusted look, embarrassed by his dumb reply. She makes him nervous. Being around her caused his heart to race, palms to sweat and his brain to become a straight fog.

He looks down at the paper that's sitting in his lap, taking in the beautiful drawing that he's made of her, for the past 30 minutes. He takes in every detail of her features and pastes them into the drawing. But somehow, it's never as good as the real her. It's almost as if her beauty is unattainable by any means.

"Whatcha working on?" She asks him, moving closer to try and get a look at his book. Hyunjin quickly pulls his book away with a quick "Don't look!" She slowly backs away from him with her hands in the air in defeat. He shuts his drawing book and sets it beside him. "It... It's just not done yet. It's not even that good." He scrambles to say, giving her a small smile.

"Hyunjin, come look at this!" Felix yells from the other side of the park. He looks at her to which she gives him a small smile. He stands from his spot on the blanket and makes his way to Felix.

She notices the small black book on the blanket. Left right where Hyunjin has left it. She looks over to Hyunjin, seeing his distracted with whatever Felix has found fascinating. She knows it's wrong, that she shouldn't look inside of it. But she grabs the small black book anyway.... sifting through the pages. She comes across many photos of flowers, thinking to herself that it must be his favorite thing to draw, considering the number of drawings of them.

That's until she comes across another set of very interesting photos... Her. A drawing of her from a few weeks ago, when they were all hanging out at the beach together. She flips the page to see another, this time it's from a few days ago, sitting in the library where she thought she was the only one there. She flips the page one more time, revealing the picture Hyunjin had been so quick to hide from her. It was her, sitting on the blanket, hair being tussled in the small breeze. Her finger slowly slides against the lines of the drawing, taking it all in.

A sudden scream from Changbin scares her from her thoughts and she quickly shuts the book and sets it back down. "Everything okay?" She asks him. "Yup! I fell..." He says in defeat, laying on the ground under the monkey bars. "I told you to get down bro, you never listen." Han says, walking away from him.

She looks over at Felix and Hyunjin and sees he's making his way back to the blanket. She gives him a small smile when he arrives back and watches as he picks up his black book and pencil, before he looks up at her and sees her starring. "Everything okay?" He asks. She smiles at him before giving a small nod. "Everything is perfect.." She replies quietly, before sitting back into the position he was drawing her in.

[redrydersrequiem]

Golden eyed phantom ch 1

Pairing Druig x reader

Rating explicit 18+ only minors ageless blank and non unadapted blogs will be blocked.

Plot: phantom of the opera au

Warnings: Some smut (im still learning how so go easy on me) fingering, dream sex, mind control but not dark)

The opera de popular was one of the crown jewels of paris, a place where dreams and nightmares can become a reality. It’s also where young (y/n) (l/n) found themselves living after the untimely death of their only living relative, their father.With no living family and no prospective husband (y/n) would have been homeless if not for Madame Ajak,the kindly dance instructor of the opera and a dear friend to the girls late father.

Madame Ajak became the mother you never knew, kind, caring, always able to cure any physical ailment that seemed to bother her or anyone else, with Madame came Sersi. She was another girl that had grown up in the opera. Madame Ajak was unable to have children of her own so she adopted Sersi when she was just a baby. The young woman was only a few years older then (y/n) and the two became fast friends. Sersi showed you the ins and outs of the opera house, really the ins and outs of Paris. Many times she would take you out and about to learn about your new home and everything in it including the rest of the people that would make up your new family. The first members you met came in the form of Gilgamesh and Thena.

Gilgamesh was the chief of security for the opera house. He was a giant boulder of a man well built and very intimidating at first glance, that is until he smiles at you and turns into the giant teddy bear he is. Always making sure all of us are safe and sneaking in baked goods every now and then. You wouldn’t know just from looking at him but he was an amazing baker, especially his pies they were to die for. With Gilgamesh came his partner Thena,she was gorgeous a goddess without even trying. She was the stunt, fighting and weapons expert for the opera and many other production houses in Paris. Many people thought she was a model but the mere thought made her grimace, “Why would I want to be a model and have to care what everyone thought of me?” Even though she had a tough exterior she was also very kind in her ways. Thena was determined for all of us younger girls at the opera to be able to protect ourselves, teaching everyone basic self defense and warning signs and so on and so forth. She was truly a ferocious mama bear if she wanted to be, to you she just became a protective aunt.

Next up was, without a doubt, your favorite trio, Phastos,Sprite and Makkari. All three worked backstage, keeping the opera house running as fabulously as it does. Phastos was the head engineer/ prop master. If something needed to be built he was the guy, his creations awe inspiring, some looking as though they had come straight out of the future, but he was still humble enough to answer any questions you or anyone had about the devices. Alongside Phastos worked sprite. She was young that was undeniable but boy was she talented, A true artist she was the head set designer and painter. Everything she created was so stunning you couldn’t even tell it wasn’t real. While Phastos was somewhat humble, Sprite was spunky, quick witted and sharp tongue when wronged. She halted being looked down on because of how young she looked and would lay into anyone who belittled her.

Makkari was a completely different story, even though she was deaf that did not stop her. Always with a kind smile on her face she ran around helping pull everything together. She was the resident lighting and stage hand always in the right place at the right time, almost like there were seven of her. When she wasn’t working she would be in the shopping district, dragging (y/n) with her to oogle all the shiny and sparkly Knick knacks, all the beautifully colored fabrics and imports coming in. In fact that's how Kingo was introduced.

Kingo was a fashionista, a real eye for how to make everyone look their best with one look.he was the opera's resident costume designer / understudy. Kingo dreamed of being on stage; he knew all the words, all the songs, everything, but sadly his time in the spotlight had not yet come. Everyone always reassured him his time would come, in fact you would always run lines with him whenever he was feeling down, he was over the top dramatic for sure but so entertaining. Probably the only thing more entertaining was picking on him with sprite and makkari. His reaction to the twos joke always brought a smile to your face, and was almost a bonding experience with the other girl.

During the day there was enough to distract you from your sullen thoughts. In particular the formation of a new found family, always there to relieve you of your boredom and loneliness but at night it was a different story. About a month after you had arrived you sat in the opera's small chapel, lighting a candle for your fathers soul. You guess your gentle weeping is what brought forth the angel's song, but all you really remember is the gentle glowing gold of the candles or at least you think it was the candles but you didn't really care as the feelings of calm wash over you with the soft timber of the angel's voice. At night or really whenever you were alone the angel would speak to you. Teach you the ways of the opera house and the music that went along with it. He was a mystic presence, always there but never in reach.

He invaded your whole life, when not learning from him at night your dreams started turning to him.

It would start with his voice, hearing it in your head as you drifted to sleep, the scene would change to a candle lit backdrop, soft smells of vanilla fill the air, a dreamy feeling wanders around you, then you would feel hands wrap around you. They were strong, long fingers as they wandered up and down your frame. You dare not turn around not wanting the feelings he provokes from you to end too quickly.

You watch as those glorious hands gently slide up your leg taking your thin night shift with them until they reach your core. A branding iron of heat in eloping you as he probes you. Fingers lightly playing with your clit as his lips caressed your ear, words ringing through your very soul it felt

“My beautiful beautiful muse, I've waited so long for you. I’ll never forget the day I first heard your voice, it was like hearing a blessing.”

You couldn’t even articulate words to reply to him shivering as hard as you were from merrily his touch.

“I can not wait for the day you truly belong to me. Mind. Body. And soul”

You feel his fingers stroking in tune to his words. Marking his point deep within your walls, but before you are able to climb to the peak a loud ringing sounds from beside you

“Ignore it”

You try of course but the ringing doesn’t stop. With each ring the scene around you shakes, deteriorating back into the blackness that waits behind your rapidly opening eyes. You sit up in shock, eyes trying to adjust to your bedroom as your alarm rings beside you. Your body still shivering from the after effects of the dream you just had.

Five years had passed, under your teachers guidance your gift bloomed but the only people you would even attempt to try to sing for would be your new family, and that was only light humming. The dreams became normal as well. Usually they happened after working with your mysterious and gracious master. You never learned anything more about him. All you knew was his voice but the one in your dreams seemed to evolve.

First was his hands and then his arms then his legs,his back,even a head of dark brown hair. But never his face. It was starting to vex you honestly, every time waking up from the pure euphoria of those dreams too have reality slap you in the face of how lonely you felt. Not that your new family did not appease your heart, in fact being with them was as natural as breathing. To be honest you couldn't describe what was wrong with you, all you could summarize it as was that it felt like part of you was missing.

A week after your 24th birthday the new owners of the opera appeared and with them came someone familiar.

“Listen up everyone!” Mr Richard's the old owner calls to everyone, all of us currently gathered on the main stag rehearsing the latest show

“I would like to introduce the new owners of the opera Monsieur Nelson and Monsieur Murdock.”

Everyone claps all clambering around to get the best views of the two young owners. You had to admit neither were horrible looking, you thought it was interesting for a blind person to want to buy an opera but it made sense to, even if he couldn’t see the performances, listening to them was the next best thing.

‘Thank you all, thank you we are both very happy to start our adventures in the arts.” Mr Nelson started “We would also like to introduce our generous backer Count Ikaris de solar.” Finished Mr Murdock to when a handsome brunette stepped onto stage to everyone’s approval and applause.

“Ikaris?” You gasped out as everyone continued to clap and awe over the count

“Do you know him (y/n)?” Sersi asks confusingly

“Yes, we knew each other as children. We were somewhat close before his family moved away, I can’t believe that's truly him.”

Before you get another word in, a loud clearing of the throat silences everyone. Mademoiselle Ayesha and her pompous son Adam, step through the crowd in their fine costumes. The madame was the current lead soprano for the opera even though you thought she couldn't sing for shit. Her voice was almost as grating as her attitude towards everyone. Sprite assumed the only reason she was given any parts was because of her stupidly wealthy family and late husband. But you choose not to comment on that. The woman stands there covered in gold and signals to the maestro to start at the top of her aria once more

Oh no she's starting again Sersi says from beside you already getting ready to cover her ears. In fact you can even see the housekeeping staff in the audience stuffing Cotton in their ears. The woman doesn’t get but a few lines in the aria her screeching tone ringing through the stage before the rolled up backdrop above her comes crashing down. The light but sturdy fabric lands on top of the soprano pinning her belly flopped to the stage floor to the shocks and screams of everyone around.

They rush to help the woman up but the damage to her pride is too great. She starts screeching about all the previous accidents directed at her, of all the misfortune and indignity that has befallen her and how she will not stand for it any longer. Mr Murdock simply stands there letting the scene unfold as Mr Nelson loses his mind along the diva as she. Stomps her heel gathering all her things, her son and their people and promptly leaving

The new owners were in a tissy (mostly foggy) wondering how they are supposed to open tomorrow with no star. How this whole adventure is now wasted. Madame Ajak promptly interrupts, saving Mr Nelson from a full melt down, handing the duo a dark black envelope with a giant red wax seal on it.

“Where did that come from?” You ask Sersi

“That confirms it then, It must was the phantom”

“The phantom?”

“Have you honestly not heard the others talk about this?

“No?”

She just shakes her head at you before filling you in on the details

“He's a mysterious person, some say he’s a ghost, others a demon but no one knows for sure. They say he's been here forever always making his presence known. In fact the previous owner used to pay him a monthly wage just to appease him, that and that box number 5 be kept empty for him whenever he wishes. Everything was going well but this past couple years he has gotten a little more devious.

“Why?”

No one really knows, and everyone’s afraid to ask or look around afraid they’ll never be seen again.

Before you can ask sersi more your name is being called.

“(Y/n)(l/n) can do it.”

What?” You had missed the conversation between the two new owners and Madame Ajak

One of your dances can replace the star diva from the past 5 years.? Your sure about that?

“Foggy why don't we give the girl a chance”

“Matt this is doing nothing for. My nerves

You stand there like a deer in headlight hoping you could somehow slip to the back and out of sight but Sersi sees you growing anxiety and gently but firmly directs you towards Ajak.

Madame gently took you from her daughter and lead you to the center of the stage

“Madame what,,,,but,, I,,,”

“It will be alright dear. I've heard you practice these last couple of years when you sneak off at night, and i know your teacher has taught ypu well”

“My teacher?”

Ajak just gives you a knowing look before she turns towards the maestro and nods at him leaving you standing there as everyone watches.

You hear quiet cheer from stage left where your little opera family all stand giving you thumbs up and right smiles, trying to ease your nerves, though it doesn’t really help, it's not till you look up towards the grand chandler that that gentle calming glow envelops your senses once more.

“From the top of the aria mademoiselle”

The band picks up and the music begins to play

To be honest you don't remember much after that. It was a whirlwind of activity. Being swept off stage and quickly fitted into costumes, stage managers telling you where you need to stand, color spotting you with lights all the fixing basically to make it seem like you were always meant to be in the role.

You didn't know that while you sang your heart out on stage a certain young count had finally taken notice of you

“(Y/n)?”

“That’s the girl that used to follow you around?” Count Arishem Ikarus’s father ask begrudgingly

“Yes father that's the daughter of that famous violinist tha lived near our old summer home.”

“Well, well we may have found ourselves a diamond in the rough after all. The elder count scrutinizes the crowd all gawking at the peasant, like she's a princess. All he sees is an opportunity to boost his family further, the gears of his plan already forming in his mind.

Phantoms pov

There she is at last! Right where she belongs, my beautiful beautiful muse.

[messedupfan]

The Last Supper

Summary: The team has their obligatory Tiktok POV party.

A/N: Hello! It's me, the problem, aka. slowest writer around. Hope it makes sense and that y'all enjoy!

Masterlist | All Chapters | All Stories Taglist

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You crash on your bed as you and Wanda return to the room. Exhausted from over exerting yourselves time after time. Your wife tiredly joins you with a heavy sigh. “Do you think they’ll miss us if we don’t show?” Wanda asks as her head falls to gaze in your direction. You let out a light scoff. 

“Trust me, it has crossed my mind,” you close your eyes for a second and focus on your breathing. Instead of the nagging feeling that this could be your last moments with your wife. “It could be fun to bond with them over more than just the mission. I think we’ll catch a second wind when we’re all together.”

Wanda’s groans cause you to laugh. “I’ve already caught my second wind. And me third, and forth. I’m not exactly in a state of having my rest tampered with.” 

“Why is that?” You ask, sitting up and looking over at her. 

“You know how I get when I don’t get enough rest.” Wanda mumbles as she begins to slip. You laugh softly and climb off of the bed. You pull her shoes off and flash something more comfortable on her body. You tuck her in before you jump in the shower. 

Even though you could have easily cleaned yourself up with magic, saving the time and energy, you take a shower to relax. Something about the warm water is soothing as it stings your skin and clears your mind. You stop thinking about losing. You stop thinking about the Scarlet Witch. But you don’t stop thinking about your wife. You remind yourself of the wonderful years that the two of you have managed to spend together in peace. Sure, there was an argument here and there. Every couple has their moments. And you wouldn’t change a single one of them. Not even the break the two of you had before the peace. Before almost losing each other for good. When she was seeing the Simon from your universe. And you were with a girl you can hardly remember the name of now. 

As you step out, you admire your sleeping wife and recall the day you reunited. The two of you had been separated for over a year by then. She was the one to put things to an end. You kept putting yourself at risk and she couldn’t handle living with the fear of losing you for good. You aren’t invincible Y/n! She didn’t like that you would sacrifice yourself so easily without considering what you would leave behind. I love you so much it hurts! But I don’t think that’ll ever be enough for you. Just go, go be the martyr you’ve always wanted to be. You’re free from me. So she kept you at a distance. Which wasn’t always easy with getting the same assignments and having to work together on the Avengers. To make it easier, you began to focus more on teaching sorcerers at Kamar Taj to be the best warriors they could be. Something the two of you do to this day, together. 

It took her a few months to move on. Simon had always made himself available to her. And always followed the orders he was given to a T. Never did anything to risk his life or the life of others. Always looking for another way out. However, he didn’t make her laugh the way you did. He had no desire to build the family the two of you dreamt of together. And most importantly, he wasn’t you. But Wanda was committed to moving on from you. She wouldn’t become a young widow someday, left to care for children on her own because you had to be the hero. You took a little bit longer to move on. When you found out about her new relationship, part of you felt betrayed. Part of you thought maybe that was why she really left you. It made you angry and bitter and you built a wall around yourself to protect your heart. 

Then you met someone that you thought might change things for you. That relationship was doomed from the beginning because you weren’t over Wanda. Despite how often you told yourself that you were. When Wanda caught wind of the news. She wouldn’t let go. Everyone that had an ear, she would talk on and on about how annoying this other girl seemed and how she wasn’t at all your type and that the relationship was never going to work because she wasn’t right for you. She didn’t stop until one night, at dinner with Simon, he cut her off and told her that if she wanted to be with you again then he wouldn’t hold her back. She thought his outburst was absurd but she apologized and stopped talking about you. 

A couple weeks later, you were convinced to come back to the Avengers for a very important mission. There wasn’t much time to prepare, the threat was large and imminent. The two of you somehow wound up in the same area. Working as the team the two of you have always been in order to stop an enemy. You knew how to make a move without getting in her way and were good about making sure she didn’t get injured. She knew when you wanted to combine power to make a certain move with just a look. Fighting along her side again felt like a romantic dance in a way. And you knew you had to have her be yours once again. Whatever it took. 

At the end of the battle, when tensions were high and the both of you were standing near each other, lucky to be alive, you walked up to her. You put your hands on her face to kiss her but you stopped yourself. Wanda gasped having you so close to her once again. She didn’t know if she wanted this again. You closed your eyes as you began to regret your actions. As you pulled away, an apology at the tip of your tongue, she grabbed your robe to keep you there. You opened your eyes to look into hers to see where her head was at. But they were shut tightly. So you closed yours again to just feel. You leaned in a bit more to feel her lips against yours, not quite kissing her just yet. She jerked her head back and let out a sharp breath. But she didn’t fight your light grasp. She didn’t remove your hands from her. She didn’t loosen her grip on your clothing. Then she made up her mind and kissed you. Both of you pulled each other closer. 

She couldn’t stop apologizing and telling you how much she loved you as she broke down in tears. You consoled her the best you could but you were feeling quite emotional yourself that day. You move her hair out of her face now as you flash on something nice for the event tonight. You thought it was a little ridiculous to be celebrating before the fight. But you suppose another day alive was a victory itself. You conjure a little note to let Wanda know where you are when she wakes. It didn’t matter that she could have figured it out on her own. It was part of good communication. You kiss her forehead before leaving.

You arrive at the dining hall where they were setting up chairs around the tables. You stop Jean and Raven where they are and you make a couple of hand motions that set everything up for them. The tables and chairs are out, a buffet is ready to serve, a bar is ready to serve endless drinks, and there is a table full of desserts and candies. “Ah, I love magic,” you say happily. 

Raven shakes her head, “Huh, I think I like you a little bit more.” 

“Uh-oh, don’t let Carol hear that,” Jean teases. 

“Shut up,” the blonde rolls her eyes, “I have to go change. Not all of us can be ready with the wiggle of our noses.” Leaving you with Jean alone in the hall. 

“That is offensive to my kind,” you throw out there jokingly. 

Jean smiles, “What is?”

“I am the Master of the Mystical Arts. There is a lot more that goes into my transformation than just a twitch of my nose,” you scoff dramatically. 

“Is that so?” She enables.

“Yeah, it’s a wave,” you hold your hand slightly above your head, “of my hand.” As you twirl your wrist and lower your hand, your outfit changes again. This time into a ridiculous clown that makes Jean burst out laughing. “What? Is there something on my face?” You cluelessly touch your cheek, allowing the paper white makeup rub off on your comically large red glove. “Oh no! Not again!” you say and you look up to see her holding her side. “It’s not funny!” You gripe and Jean tries to get the words out to agree with you but she can’t. Then with a wiggle of your big red nose, the clown outfit poofs away and you are back in the outfit you intended to wear tonight. 

“I will be sure to correct Raven before she strikes again,” Jean says once she’s able to get her words out. “I should get ready as well,” she takes a glance around the empty space, not sure if she should leave you all by yourself. “Where’s Wanda?” 

“Taking a nap,” you answer simply. 

“I’m surprised you aren’t with her now,” Jean says. 

You laugh a little to yourself. “Oh, if I sleep now I won’t get back up.” You don’t need to be a mind reader to know the woman’s conflict. “Go on, I’m sure someone will pop in here while I entertain myself.” 

“Are you sure?” She asks to be polite but she was already making her way to the door. 

“Yes,” you confirm. Once you’re all alone, you leave the area to go over the strategies while you wait. This wasn’t a typical situation, you’ve never been given this much time to work out a strategy before going against a threat before. There usually wasn’t time to make a group plan. It was usually instinct based and following whatever something could come up with on the spot. So, you wanted to take advantage of the time. 

“I knew you’d be in here,” Thor says as he enters the room. “Come on, put that stuff down. I'm making a rule, no one can return to this room for the rest of the night. There is a pungent odor, this place needs to breathe.”

“Damnit, man. How’d you know I'd be here?” You grumble as Thor leads you out of the room. 

“In truth, I didn't. I knew someone would be in here. Trying to work. There will be no time for work. No, my friend, there will only be time for celebration. Have fun! Remind yourself what you're fighting for. All of us need to. Our freedoms, our friends, our families, our lives! All of it!” Thor boasts. Although you were slightly annoyed that you couldn’t continue working, he had a point. The work will be there tomorrow. 

Well into the night the dining hall is filled with the team. The tables that were originally shorter and arranged in sections about the room were collected and pushed together to make one long table once Thor got to the room. With a snap of your fingers, you made the seating arrangements to help out. Thor thought you took the fun out of it so you undid the magic and took a seat and watched as Thor and the Asgardian soldiers moved the chairs to the table one by one. Now, you sit with your arm around Wanda's seat as you listen to Carol deliver a ridiculous story from one of her missions. Looking around at everyone smiling and laughing, Raven appreciates the moment of peace. “I’ve got to hand it to you Thor, this was a great idea,” she compliments. 

Carol tips the neck of her bottle towards Raven, “I agree! We should do this more often.”

Logan, who had returned a few days ago along with Storm and Charles, wanting to fight to keep their home. Raven and Jean were more than happy to have them back. Lights a new cigar. “The protectors of the multiverse, celebrating their victory against the evil bi-” Charles clears his throat and Logan rolls his eyes, “witch,” he finishes.

“If we survive this hell, we should do this every year,”  Jean chimes in cynically but no one lets it affect the atmosphere. 

You feel slightly concerned about her but you don't let it show. “When,” you correct. “When we survive this hell, we'll make certain to do it.”

Thor rises onto the table and drunkenly raises his massive mug to the air. “To the protectors of the multiverse!” His voice booms in the air and everyone cheers him along as he chugs all of the contents of the glass. You refill the glass from your seat, enchanting it to be on an endless loop, and he grins as he points to you, “Now that's what magic should be used for!” 

Another round of laughter fills the room before others request for the same to be done for them. You happily oblige. When you realize Wanda is one of the few that hasn't made the request, you nudge her to offer. She loves this spell. She turns to you as if you had snapped her out of her head and you move your gaze to her hardly touched glass of wine then back to her eyes and she is caught up. “No, not tonight, love. Thank you, but,” she leans in close to whisper, “I think one of us should be sober tonight.”

“Are you sure you want to volunteer for that? You've been more tense about this mission than I have,” you offer. 

Wanda shakes her head, “I’m fine, really babe. I'm relaxed and there is such a thing as having fun while sober.” You raise your hands in surrender as you laugh. This was new to you but you weren't going to argue it any further. 

Across the table Jean is paying too much attention to you and Wanda. She begins to miss Y/n and has to separate herself from the party for a moment. For most of the people that are preoccupied with their own conversations, the exit goes unnoticed. Except for Wanda and you. 

“I wonder what's eating her up,” you frown as you keep your eyes on the newly empty seat.  

"You should go check on her." Your wife whispers softly by your side, and you turn your gaze back to her, confusion written all over your face. 

"You sure?" You whisper back, uncertain, but the brunette just offers you a reassuring smile. 

Resting her hand over yours as she says, “I am. She looks like she could use a friend and I would send Raven but,” she looks over to the shapeshifter who's adoring gaze is locked on Carol. “Besides I'm sure she'd like your company.” You nod slowly, glancing back at the door through which Jean had disappeared a few minutes ago. When you look back at Wanda again, you offer her a gentle smile. 

"I'll be right back, save me something sweet." You ask as you stand up from your chair, and the brunette lets out a low giggle, nodding her confirmation, and you kiss her lips softly before you leave the table. You look around as soon as you're in the corridor, wondering where she'd gone. But you don't have to for long, because soon you see the red hair outside, her front resting over the edge of the balcony as she watches the night sky. You make some noise with your feet so as not to startle her as you make your way over, and smile back once she flashes you a small one. 

"Hey there... Is everything alright?" You ask as you rest your forearms on the balcony rail, looking at her with a mixture of concern and curiosity. The redhead casts a tiny smile before her eyes go back to the open area of the Institute - poorly lit by the moonlight - her fingers never stopping the fidgeting with her necklace in front of her collarbone. 

"Yeah, I just... I never really liked parties." She lies, but you don't push her to speak, nodding your head in understanding instead. 

"Yeah, me neither."

"I know." She answers softly, and your eyes are drawn back to hers in surprise. But she's looking at you the same way she did when she first saw you, or when you were talking in front of the picture frames in your living room, and the moment in the green house. Looking at you as if you were the person she knew, the one she loves so dearly. And that is now gone. You can’t carry the weight of that look anymore, so you clear your throat awkwardly, and look up at the starry sky above your heads. 

"It's a beautiful night tonight."

"It is." Jean agrees just a heartbeat after, her gaze following yours. "What a shame it may be our last." She adds sadly a moment later, and you furrow your eyebrows heavily, your eyes back on her figure once again. 

"Don't say that." You request, almost demanding, but the redhead only looks at you with a resigned smile. 

"It's the truth." She shrugs her shoulders before looking back ahead. "But I'm at peace with it, honestly. It's better to go than to be left behind again. I can't lose anyone else."

"You won't." You assure her, more because seeing her cry and hearing her choke on a sob breaks your heart than because you actually believe what you're saying. 

"You don't believe that." She sees right through you, sending you a small smile, but you shake your head in denial. 

"Of course I do." You confirm the lie, but it only makes Jean let out a tearful giggle. 

"You may not be my Y/n, but I can still tell when you lie. I am a mind reader after all." You can't help but laugh at that, a weak chuckle as you shake your head in amusement. Knowing you have nothing honest to say that'll comfort her, you decide to look for a different subject instead, something to take her mind off all that for a while. And you find it in her hand.

"It's a beautiful necklace." You point at the item she's still playing with, and Jean let her eyes fall to the pendant. 

"It was a gift." She tells, smiling at the small piece lovingly. "I never take it off." Her tone is nostalgic, sad, and you don't have to think too much about it to figure out who was the one who gave it to her. You.

 "Can I see it?" You ask instead, and watch as the redhead ponders for a second before smiling and nodding in confirmation. 

It is a simple necklace, with a dark leather cord and a circular pendant attached to it by a simple metal hoop. What is most striking, however, are the infinite golden dots inside the transparent resin, which move in magical harmony, forming the figure of a majestic phoenix, its wings flapping at a slow tempo. When you take the small item in your fingers, you can't help but feel your own magic pulsating there - although much weaker than the energy coursing through your veins. 

"Very beautiful." You break the silence then, letting go of the pendant and looking at Jean again, who nods in agreement, a small smile on her lips as she looks down at the magical bird over her blouse. 

"I thought it would fade away when... Never mind." The redhead shakes her head to pull the thoughts away feeling like a broken record, and before you can think about saying anything on that matter, she is plastering a forced smile on her face. "You should go back to them, have fun."

"You're not coming?" You try with hesitation, trying to read her features, but she makes it impossible as she looks away. 

"I'm tired, I think I'm going to go to my room." She answers, and you figure it's best not to insist, nodding your head slowly in understanding. 

"I see. Goodnight, Jean." 

You offer a gentle smile to the girl, who reciprocates with an appreciative one before saying, "Goodnight, Y/n."

Figuring the redhead wanted to be left alone, you don't wait for her to retreat to her room to go back to the hall where the dinner is being held. When you get there, you see that everyone is still talking. Vision and Ghost are by the window further ahead, apparently arguing about something. At the table, surrounded by Simon, Raven and a few of the men Thor brought with him, Logan and Carol are in an arm wrestling match, and the shapeshifter disguises a smile as she watches the other blonde win the match. At the other end of the table are Storm, Thor, Charles, and Wanda in what looks to be a rather enjoyable conversation. When you see your wife getting up and heading for the drinks table, you follow her. 

"Hey, gorgeous, you come here often?" You flirt as soon as you're close enough, resting your body against the table beside her in a seductive way. Wanda - at first startled by your sudden approach - casts you an equally flirty smirk as she brings her eyes up to meet yours. 

"Not really. I'm actually from another universe." She answers with a dismissive shrug of her shoulders, taking a sip of her grape juice. 

"No way!" You say, exaggerating your surprise. "I'll let you in on my secret then..." You lean towards her to whisper. "So am I."

"Oh wow!" The brunette covers her gasp with her hand, and you hold back your amused giggle to nod your hand in confirmation. 

"I know right? Sounds like a perfect match to me." You flirt again, leaning closer, but Wanda stops your movement with a raise of her hand, an apologetic grimace on her face. 

"Sorry, I'm married." You click your tongue, feigning dissatisfaction at the sight of her wedding ring, and the cute chuckle your wife lets out has you grinning like an idiot. 

"A lucky person there." You attest with a playful tone and honesty lacing your every word, but the brunette shakes her head in disagreement. 

"I'm luckier." She argues with an ear-to-ear grin, her eyes sparkling into yours in that way that makes you fall in love with her all over again. 

"Now that's bullshit." You hit back with humor that makes her giggle. 

Before your wife can say anything else, a third voice grumbles beside you, "You guys are disgusting in every universe."

You and Wanda exchange amused giggles at the comment Carol made. But instead of answering her, the items in her hands catch your eye. "Two glasses, huh?" You point out, and the blonde looks down at her own hands. 

"One's for Raven." She says matter-of-factly, but the way you and Wanda share knowing glances makes her eyes widen. "What? I'm only being a nice person!" She tries to play it off, but her red cheeks give her away and you only laugh some more, deciding to tease her further. 

"Since when?"

"I swear, Wands, you always choose the worst people to date, in every universe." It's Carol's response, ignoring your question completely to look, amusedly, at your wife, who laughs lightly at the banter she got so used to over the years. She tries not to think about missing that too much. Just enjoying its return. So the brunette nudges her friend lightly on the side, and the blonde rolls her eyes at your offended scoff as she walks back to where Raven is. You and Wanda follow her with your gazes until a thought crosses her mind.

"Is Jean alright?" The brunette asks curiously and furrows her brows with concern the moment your good mood crumbles. 

"She's scared. It's not like I can blame her." You tell with a shrug of your shoulders, and Wanda nods slowly, looking around for a moment. 

"None of us can." She agrees not long after, and you mumble in agreement, not really knowing what to say. The two of you fall into a tense silence after that, thinking about everything that could go wrong. But Wanda doesn't let the atmosphere be heavy for long, offering you a disposable plate with a slice of cake and ice cream. "Here's your something sweet."

"That's not what I wanted." You say after you check the desserts she had saved for you, and you bite back a smile at the sight of her almost disappointed frown. "I prefer this one." As you shower her face with little kisses, the brunette's frown turns into a warm laugh, her cheeks becoming increasingly red. The kissing attack only comes to an end when Wanda's mouth finds yours, and you smile against her lips as you kiss her softly. 

And it's with that kiss that you realize how little time you have spent with your wife - with so many training sessions and strategy meetings. Your body becomes very responsive to her immediately, and before you know it, the kiss becomes hungry, your hands roughly on her waist, pulling her close. If the sigh the brunette lets out and her fingers gripping your hair are any indication, she feels the exact same way.

"We should join the others." Wanda breaks the kiss to ask, her breathing was labored as your own. 

"Why?" You ask almost on autopilot, your brain too foggy by the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. 

"Because it's either that or I'll drag you to our bedroom." Your wife whispers for only you to hear, making your skin tingle everywhere. 

"I don't see a single problem with that." It's your teasing response, a smirk on your lips as you approach them to hers once again. Her hand comes up to your chest as a smile of her own grows on her mouth. But, instead of pulling you closer, she pushes you away. 

"Table. Now." It's her only warning before she sidesteps you, and you let out a short giggle, spinning on your heels to follow your gorgeous wife back to the table, where some of your teammates are. The term makes you hesitate on your tracks for a second. Teammates. You barely know these people, but it feels like the urgency of the threat you're facing together is enough to bring anyone closer. You try not to think too much about the fear of losing any of them as you sit by Wanda's side at the table.

The rest of the night, hazy memories are made with each other. Some break out into song, others dance foolishly on top of a table, more games are created with bets that upset the losers and boost the egos of the winners. By the end of it, around four in the morning, Wanda is helping you back to the room. She tucks you in the bed and whispers that she loves you after she is snuggled into your side. She kisses your cheek and falls asleep to the sound of your heart beat. Hoping that she gets to sleep to the sound again tomorrow night.

The Necklace

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @evenbeingcrazy1998 @olsensnpm @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife

[feyhunter78]

Hey it’s El again! Can I have an aemond one shot for the apprentice stories where Aemond wants a sword to near match his uncles (cause aemond is such a fanboy) and he meets reader whose an apprentice blacksmith. He doubts she can do a good enough job and asks for the head blacksmith but she’s now determined to prove him wrong. Better yet the head blacksmith come out and says he believes she can do a really good work. She makes the sword and aemond loves it. She then says how about a test run with the sword? And so they battle with the sword she made for him and her own. It’s a near battle but she beats him to his surprise and just becomes utterly enamoured with her. The two Bond for a period of time before confessing love and him now wanting to marry her, obsessed with the idea only she could bear having his children.

Alright babe this one is shorter than the last one, and not my best tbh, vv sorry about that!!! Also, I'm not good at writing fighting scenes, so I didn't spend too much time on it. I hope you enjoy it anyways though!!!!!

The Blacksmith's Apprentice

You’re used to people underestimating you. In fact, you’re pleasantly surprised someone doesn’t underestimate you. Judging by the look on the prince’s face, though, you knew you would not be surprised.

“I wish to speak to a blacksmith.” He said, looking around the smithy.

“And you are, my prince.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

He raised an elegant eyebrow. “You? You are a woman, I do not doubt you have the mind for it, but you obviously lack the strength.”

“How about you give me your request and I decide if I am strong enough to handle it?”

He nodded begrudgingly and handed you a sketch.

“Is this Darksister?” You asked, recognizing the telltale signs of Valyrian steel anywhere.

“No, it is to be like Darksister, but better.” He said.

Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “You do realize that is one of the finest swords in the realm.”

“Is this your way of saying you are not up to the challenge?” He asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You shook your head. “I can do it.”

You stood across from Aemond, sword in hand and an easy smile on your face. “You wished to test the sword, my prince, now is the time.”

He shifted his stance, grip tight on the thing of beauty you created. He nodded and the duel began.

Steel clashed against steel, ringing out through the empty yard, huffs and grunts of exertion joined, taunts were thrown back and forth by you both, and you hissed when he nicked your arm.

“Give up y/n, I am the better swordsman.” He said, ducking under your swing.

“Say I’m the finest blacksmith you’ve ever seen, and I will.” You taunted, returning his nick with one of your own.

He laughed. “Your arrogance will be your undoing.”

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you.” You kicked out your leg, catching him behind his knees and knocking him to the ground.

You rested the tip of your sword against his throat. “Say it. Say I’m the finest blacksmith in the realm.”

He looked up at you, a mix of heated emotions swirling in his eye. “You are the finest blacksmith in the realm.” He said, through a clenched jaw.

You sheathed your sword and helped him up. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He brushed off his leather tunic, “you should return to the smithy.” Then he turned and entered the Keep.

Aemond held his head in his hands, moons had gone by, and he could not banish you from his mind. Your smile, your laughter, your skills with a sword, your beauty, it plagued him day and night. He had taken to visiting you on a weekly basis, building a friendship and spending much more than he meant to on weapons he already had.

He could not stomach the thought of someone else’s hands wrapped around your work. You put so much of yourself into your creations, how could he allow anyone but him to possess even that small part of you?

He had to have you; no other woman would do. How could he bear children with anyone but you? Only you were strong enough, graceful enough, and had enough fire to raise his heirs. He groaned at the image of you beneath him begging him to seed you, of you rounded with child, a glow to your skin. You would be an excellent mother, and your children would be the greatest warriors the realm had ever seen.

A knee bumped against his and he raised his head.

“Are you feeling ill?” You asked, head tilted in concern.

“I love you.” He blurted out, cheeks flaring bright red.

Your eyes widened and you sat frozen in shock.

“I am sorry to tell you in such an undignified way, but it is true. You plague my thoughts, you bring me joy, and I—I wish to marry you.”

You blinked, coming unfrozen. “Aemond…”

He stood, obviously embarrassed and taking your hesitance as a rejection. “I am so sorry—”

You cut him off by kissing him. “I love you too, and I would love to marry you.”

A rare smile broke across his face, and he bent down, kissing you urgently, pushing all his longing and passion into his actions. He would have his wife, his skilled, capable, and ferocious wife.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010

[memarrymilf]

Just Kiss The Girl

Lady Lesso x Clarissa Dovey

Clarissa Dovey being a bisexual disaster, y/n is in here so beware.

AN: I need Fic, I make fic, you read fic, we love fic.Beep bop boop, I make story for the gay.

Lady Lesso was intriguing, she confused everyone who spoke to her- dramatic jumps in thought, her constant attempt at insulting everyone around her. Lady Lesso was an enigma, and no one wanted to solve the puzzle that was her more than Clarissa Dovey did. The dean of the school of good wanted to know more, she wanted to be her friend.

That was all. Nothing else. When the schools merged, she saw this as an opportunity for her to get closer to her sarcastic co-dean. Lady Lesso was elegance, grace, and calculated movements, and she, well she was chaos, kindness, and fumbling.

No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t match the perfect steps that Lesso would take, every step somehow held meaning when it came from her. Clarissa Dovey was not jealous. Jealousy is evil and, she was good.

Her heart ached for the lonely reader who locked herself away in the far back corners of Lesso’s mind. After the run-in with Sophie, she realized that she really hadn’t put that much effort into getting to know the woman she spent standing next to every day. The woman she spent most of her time around, the only one who could understand the stress she was constantly put under, she did have the same job after all.

Why she had not approached her earlier, she doesn’t know. Perhaps she had seen too much of herself in this woman, the one that was meant to be evil, and it scared her. Lady Lesso was already intimidating enough all on her own. She didn’t scare Dovey per say, but she was always at the risk of being on the receiving end of Lesso’s relentless mocking.

As much as she enjoyed their back-and-forth banter, she didn’t want Lesso to think that she wasn’t being sincere. She truly believed that she would enjoy her company. So, today when she approached her co-dean, she did so with the intent of getting to know her.

As always Lady Lesso was stood at the very front of the dining hall during breakfast, her ever-vigilant gaze settled upon the hoard of students. “Good morning Lady Lesso,” the dean’s eyes snapped up to meet hers. She had the most beautiful eyes that Clarissa had the pleasure of seeing.

“Good morning, Professor Dovey.” Lesso’s eyes moved away from hers and settled back onto the children.

Dovey cleared her throat, “Clarissa,” she corrected.

Lesso looked at her, confused by her statement. “Excuse me?"

Clarissa smiled, “You should call me Clarissa, we are trying to be friends, you know with the schools becoming one and all.” She knew that it was weak reasoning, but she knew it was the only one that she had. It would have been easier had it been anyone but the beautiful and intimidating dean.

Clarissa was not blind; she knew beauty when she saw it- evil was not meant to be that beautiful.

“Well, then it would only be fair for you to call me Leonora.” Clarissa smiled, truly and freely smiled- there was none of the false goodness that she felt the need to carry with her present in it.

They were making progress.

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

It has been two weeks since the schools merged, and Leonora had spent way more time in Clarissa’s office than she did in her own.

They had been speaking to each other in a much more familiar way, the way friends would- not like they did before, they were no longer strangers forced to be in each other's constant proximity. Leonora's insults were becoming less hurtful and more playful.

Clarissa was simply happy that she no longer had to fight off the urge to flinch at her new friend's words. She was sat at her desk, working through another round of complaints aimed at the Evers. They were meant to be good, yet it seemed that they just couldn't hold their tongues.

Leonora had a field day the last time she saw the number of complaints that Dovey was working through, so, to ensure that no mocking would be heard, Clarissa resigned herself to doing it within the few moments a day that she wasn't surrounded by people.

It wasn't that Leonora received no complaints, but her children were meant to be evil. Leonora seemed to take pride in the sheer amount of chaos that her children could cause within a day.

"I have another one," the door was slammed open as Y/N entered. She held up another pink slip of paper. Dovey set her pen down and turned her full attention to the professor before her. They did not look impressed, not even in the slightest.

Dovey reached out her hand, Y/N placed the paper down in her open palm.

As she read about the latest incident, she fought the urge to roll her eyes. It seems Beatrix and Hester had gotten into another fight.

Dovey placed the paper onto the pile of matching ones, "This is the third time this week."

Y/N nodded, "If they just realized that they were in love with each other, perhaps the constant fighting would come to an end." Dovey looked up at them.

"In love?" She questioned.

Perhaps she was missing something, but as far as she knew Beatrix was in love with Tedros for almost a whole year. "Yeah, do you really think that they would spend that much getting under each other's skin if they were not interested in each other?"

Dovey's mind started working at a mile a minute, she had seen so much of herself and Lesso in the interactions between the two teens. Had she really been so blind? "For the longest time I thought that you and Lesso were flirting too, so maybe my judgment is flawed, nothing has happened between you two so far."

Dovey stopped breathing, she and Lesso?

She wasn't appalled at the notion, the thought had simply never even crossed her mind. They were friends, nothing more.

"That's ridiculous." The words come out harsher than she intended.

Y/N nodded their head. "I see that now."

They turn to leave the room without waiting for Dovey to reply, "That however does not change the fact that the two of you act like an old married couple every time that you are in the same room."

The door banged shut behind them, with those appalling manners one would forget that they were the professor of Etiquette.

Dovey sat there for a moment. She wasn't attracted to Lesson, was she?

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

Dovey marched over to Lesso, she was sitting in her seat for lunch.

Lesso looked up at her as she approached, she stopped in front of her

Dovey didn't falter. "Are we flirting?"

"Do you want us to be flirting?" Dovey looked at Lesso's smirking face for a moment.

Lesso didn't look disgusted or angry, she looked amused. Not the same way that she did when she wanted to laugh, no, the way she looks when they have their late-night heart-to-hearts.

"Perhaps." She replied, lifting her eyebrows slightly.

They stare into each other's ey- "Oh for the love of everything good, just kiss already!" Y/N's voice was heard yelling from across the table.

Lesso leaned forward connecting their lips. Fireworks erupted behind Dovey's eyes.

She realized in that moment that she knew what it felt like now, this was love.

[sweetandsourstalker]

Stella just needs her own yandere in her life 😌

It's funny you say that, anon, 'cause I was already joking about Stella attracting a certain hacker. Is the fate of the child of a Y/N to be one themselves? Maybe.))

But this blog isn't about them. ;P So I'll let that idea hang in the background.))

[darling-i-read-it]

Supreme

Michael Langdon x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: bad parents/neglectful parents, 

Author’s Note: This is a rewrite of a fic I did called ‘Unless I Die’ that I loved the concept of but had a weak execution. I am much more happy with this version lmao. I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: The reader knew Michael in murder house and when she becomes Surpreme she meets him again. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

When Michael Langdon thought of love, he thought of Ms.Mead and you. 

His memories of you were less there than the memories he had of Ms.Mead. He didn’t even remember really what you were to him. He was in love with you, that he could remember. But were you in love with him? Was the girl who came to his home and was so very kind of him, in love with him? Or were you nothing more than friends? 

All of his memories with you were glossed over by time. They were a little bit rough around the edges and he wasn’t sure if his mind had changed the details but he cherished them. 

Still, he was never quite sure of your motives. He admired that, in the long run.

====

You took a deep breath as you looked yourself in the mirror. You were still so young. Far too young to be so concerned about the world ahead. But if your parents found out about the powers you had, you would surely be sent to some sort of madhouse. 

You shook your head and turned around. You had to go to school. You were probably going to be late but that was the least of your problems. You could walk. 

You stepped out of your home, narrowly avoiding your parents gaze. You started to walk down your street. It was a chilly day, leaves crunching under your feet. You put your headphones in and tried to find a playlist to listen to when you heard the screaming. 

“Michael! Michael stop it!” Constance Langdon ran out of her home, holding a flaming shoe. You raised your eyebrow, slowing to stop in front of her home. She tossed the shoe onto the concrete, stepping on it furiously. 

“Grandma!” a voice yelled and a boy ran outside of the home, holding another flaming shoe. He tossed it out onto the yard and you quickly ran over, stepping on it to put the flames out. You didn’t even think about it. The flame went out, leaving a burnt spot in the grass. 

“Everything okay Ms.Langdon?!” you called. She looked up at you and breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Constance, please.” She took out a cigarette and lit it with the singes of the shoe she picked up. She took a deep huff of it and then dropped the shoe to ground again. She took the cigarette out of her mouth. “Everythings just fine.” 

The boy was still standing there, staring at you. 

“I didn’t know you had a grandson Constance.” You and Constance knew each other decently well. When your parents annoyed you you would talk a walk around the neighborhood and she had called you inside for some lemonade one day. You had a couple of glasses of lemonade with her over the years that you had lived there. You knew of her children and what happened to them, through her and other stories. You weren’t sure how she got a grandson.

“Yes yes. He’s visiting from...overseas,” she said, dismissively waving the cigarette around. 

“I’m Michael,” he said happily. You smiled at him kindly. 

“Hey Michael. I’m Y/N.” 

“You’re pretty.” You smiled sheepishly and crossed your arms. 

“Thanks.” Constance looked between the two of you and her eyes lit up. She pointed her cigarette at you. 

“Would you like to come over?” You looked down the road and rocked back and forth on your feet. 

“I have school,” you said honestly. 

“Yes, of course. Perhaps another time? Michael is homeschooled, he would love some company.” You nodded and looked longer at the boy beside her. He was cute. He had gorgeous curly hair. 

“I’d like that.” Constance nodded.

“I’ll see you soon Miss. Y/L/N.” 

“See you both soon. Nice meeting you Michael!” you called as you started back on your walk. Michaels gaze followed you until you were out of sight. 

“She’ll be good for you,” Constance said, walking inside. Michael smiled.

=====

You came over that day, after school. You had no desire to face your parents so you went over there in hopes it would distract you from the world. Constance handed you a large glass of lemonade and left you alone with Michael so that she could have some peace and quiet. 

“So where are you from?” you asked. Michael and you were both sitting on the floor of his room. 

“Um...the house,” he said. You raised your eyebrow and nodded slowly.

“Interesting place,” you joked. You laughed a little bit at the absurdity and he laughed because you were laughing. 

“Do you have any music in here?” you asked. He shook his head.

“Music?” 

“Music. Like...music.” He shook his head, unsure what you were talking about. You raised your eyebrows at him, surprised. “What were you born yesterday?” He shook his head vigorously and you laughed at his aggressiveness. You took your phone out and connected your headphones. You put one earbud in your ear and then scooted closer to him. You held up the earbud so he could see it and then put it in his ear. 

You started to play a song and he jumped but quickly calmed down. You started to bob your head to the beat and he copied you, smiling brightly. 

His grandma wasn’t usually this nice to him. 

You closed your eyes, starting to feel the song but he kept his wide open, admiring your face to close to his. He looked at your features, watching as your face scrunched at the rise of the song. 

You were really pretty. 

The song ended and you opened your eyes slowly again like you were just waking up from sleep. 

“Did you like it?” you asked. He nodded quickly and he had such a gentle innocence to him that you couldn’t help but laugh. “Wanna listen to something else?”

“Yes,” he said quickly. You smiled and went to change the song. 

======

You went over to see Michael after school every day for a couple of weeks. He liked hanging out with you and you liked seeing someone who barely knew anything about you and the world. Constance loved you more than ever. You were practically the only person that Michael tolerated enough to not harm. 

You became quick friends.

He knew so little about the world that you felt completely safe when you showed him your powers. It was a rainy day and you were both sitting in his room. 

“I want to show you something,” you said nervously. He was looking out the window at the rain but quickly turned back to you when you spoke. He nodded softly.

“What is it?” he asked. You were sitting on his bed and you adjusted yourself, putting your legs underneath you. 

“Please don’t freak out.” He shook his head, face turning to a frown.

“I won’t.” 

He waited patiently as you held your hand out in front of you. You had never done this in front of another person before. You barely let yourself do it when you were alone. 

The wind started to pick up and then in an instant there was a ball of fire in the palm of your hand. He gasped, leaning forward to look at it. 

You looked up at him nervously but was surprised to see his face lit up in a smile. 

“I can do that too.” Your eyes went wide in surprise and the fire was gone. He held out his hand and in a second there was a ball of fire in his hand. Your mouth opened in shock. 

“I didn’t think anyone else could,” you hissed. 

“Me neither!” You crashed into him, hugging him tightly. You were so overjoyed, so happy that you weren’t alone. Who would have thought? 

He hugged you tightly too. He thought he was a freak, he had no idea that anyone else suffered from the same problems as him. And you no less! His favorite person!

Constance walked inside. You moved apart from Michael sheepishly and stood up.

“Your parents are here,” she said. You didn’t tell them to come or pick you up. You didn’t even think they knew where you went. You gave Michael a look before walking downstairs. Your mom was standing there, face neutral.

“Come outside,” she said sturtly. You didn’t say anything. You just walked outside. There was a car on the side of the road, engine running. “We’ve packed your bags.”

“I’m sorry?” 

“We know about your...illness.” Your eyes went wide. 

“How?” 

“We saw you in your room the other night. You’ll be going to a school for girls...like you.” There was a tang of disgust in her voice.

“I don’t want to go. I have friends here! I can hide it, I swear!” Your mom grabbed your arm and shook her head, dragging you to the car. 

“Get in.” 

Michael watched from the window of his room. When he saw your mom grab you, he quickly started to rush outside. He couldn’t let you go. He wouldn’t let her hurt you. 

“I don’t want to,” you said. 

She opened the door and shoved you inside. She shut it again before you were able to get your bearings. She hit the top of the car and you tried to open it but the door was locked. 

You hit your palm against the car window but it was already moving. All good it would do was expel your anger. 

You saw Michael in the distance as you drove away.

Your mom died that day. You never were told how. You didn’t even know until months later. 

======

Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies seemed like a total bust. You were not happy to be there and still in shock that your mom had just kicked you out of your home without so much as a proper goodbye. 

Coredlia seemed nice and the other girls there were helping you with your powers.

You were happy to be able to embrace it but you couldn’t help but want to be embracing it with Michael. You thought about him often. 

He would have loved it there. With people like him. 

======

“What, you mean we have to find a new Supreme?” you whispered to Zoe. She nodded. 

“I think we’re all going to be tested,” she told you. You shook your head.

It had been a couple of months since you came to the school and you had been told about Fiona. But now you were being told that she was going to die soon so you needed to find a new Supreme? And that it could be you? 

You shook your head more vigorously.

“It’s going to be you Zoe. Well, I’d rather it be you. If it’s Madison then I think we’ll all suffer in our own little ways.” You didn’t mind Madison but there were times that you would rather her not be around. You were actually fairly friendly. She could just be a bit much sometimes. 

“I don’t know. I mean, I would like it to be me too,” she said with a small laugh. “But you have your own power too. It could very well be you.” 

Madison opened the door to yours and Zoe's shared room. 

“Coredelia says it's time,” she said. You nodded and shared a look with both of the women in the room before standing up and walking out the door. 

======

You passed the seven wonders with an ease that no one had seen in a long time. You didn’t even know what was happening when it was over and you had lost so many friends. Zoe had gotten hurt, Misty was gone. 

It felt more like a loss than a gain. 

  “You will be a fair leader,” Coredlia was with a small smile. She was very proud of you. She was hoping it was either you or Queenie but she would have been happy with anyone truly. 

“I’m sorry about Misty,” you said solemnly. Her breath hitched but she didn’t show much emotion. 

“We’ll find a way to retrieve her. One day,” she promised. You nodded.

“I believe that.” 

======

YEARS LATER 

“May I come in?” 

You looked up from your desk and at the door where Zoe was peaking in. You rolled your eyes at her formalites.

“Yes Zoe you may come in.” She walked inside and leaned against the door, a little bit nervous looking. “What is it? Are all the girls okay?” you asked. She nodded quickly.

“The boys school has sent a message.” 

“Oh?” You knew of the boys school of course. You had gone over there a couple of times but mostly they came to you when there were meetings to be done. It was rare that they sent you messages outside of the regular allotted time that you usually met. 

“They want to see you. They said that Cordelia and I may attend.” 

“Well of course you’ll attend. You always attend.” You didn’t like that they boys felt like they had the power to tell you who would come with you. 

“Alright. I suppose we’ll go then.” She nodded and started to leave to get everyone's affairs in order. “Zoe?!”

“Yes?”

“We won’t leave until tomorrow. I want to make them wait.” She smiled a bit and nodded. 

“Of course.”

====

Ariel Augustus, Behold Chablis, John Moore and Baldwin Pennypacker were stingy men. They constantly acted like they had been personally victimized but you being Supreme and you didn’t like them at all. You tolerated them for the sake of peace. 

“We have a boy who we believe will be Supreme,” Augustus said. You showed no emotion on your face, you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Zoe and Cordelia though, did not have that sort of refrain.

“I’m sorry?” Zoe said, appalled. Cordelia just stared, stunned that they would ever think about doing this. 

“There has never been a man as Supreme. Surely you must know this,” you said. Your voice was booming in the room. They stared at you. 

“Well yes but just because it hasn’t been done doesn’t mean it can’t be done.” You nodded, lips pursed.

“Well if I am to send a boy of yours to his death then I want to meet him.”

“Y/N are you saying you're considering-” Zoe began but you cut her off, eyes light and trained on the warlocks.

“I am saying I will meet him.” 

The men of the table stood and two left, to fetch the boy they deemed to be a future Supreme. 

“What are you thinking?” Coredlia said, as the men walked out of sight. You turned to her, face neutral.

“That they’re being ridiculous and I would like to meet their so-called talent. Who knows, maybe I’ll have Zoe duel him,” you muttered with a small smile. Zoe rolled her eyes nervously. The door opened again and you stood gracefully, eyes training on the door.

“This is Michael Langdon and he is the boy we think could be our next Supreme.” His eyes met yours. 

Michael had grown since you saw him. Grown into himself much more. He radiated confidence and his blonde locks fell over his face handsomely. He saw you and recognition flashed in his face. For a moment his composure dropped and he had a childlike excitement on his face. Then he was back to being guarded.

Emotion swelled in your stomach.

“I would like a moment alone with Mr.Langdon,” you said. You looked around the room with a gaze that said no one should argue with you. Zoe gave you a lingering look as she left the room but you didn’t meet her gaze. 

The doors shut and you held up your hand. He didn’t speak until you had flicked your hand. You made the room soundproof. 

“Witches and warlocks love to eavesdrop. Although I suppose you know that.” He ran up to you eagerly and hugged you tightly. 

“I was so worried about you!” he said quietly. You hugged him back. He smelled the same as he did. 

“I thought about coming to find you but I couldn’t leave the girls at the school. I sent one of the girls back to your home and you were gone.” 

“Some people came and took me. Now I’m here,” he explained. “You’re the Supreme.” He stepped back with realization.

“You want to take the seven wonders test?” you asked him slowly. 

“Yes. I do.” 

“If you fail you die. If you pass...I die,” you explained. “If you take this test we will never see each other again.” He shook his head.

“I will pass and I will save you. Think of it, the two of us together. We could rule the world. The problems between warlocks and witches would be gone,” he said, walking back up to you and putting his hands on your upper arms. 

“Michael I will die.” 

“No.” His face was hard. He truly believed what he was saying. “I won’t let you die. I would never let you die.” 

He grabbed your hand and turned it around so that your palm was up. He dragged your finger on your palm and his eyes met yours. 

“I thought I would never see you again.” You brought your palm up to his cheek and touched your forehead to his. He had grown some. 

“Fate brought us here,” you promised.

“And I will not let you die now.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 91

Title: Cope

Warnings: some profanity,  angst

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @secretaryunpaid​, @youflickedtooharddamnit, @jvstjewels, @asirensrage, @raith-way, @residentdormouse, @tragiclyhip, @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag

Tag list is OPEN

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860450/chapters/99156042

Huge thanks to the lovely and very talented @tragiclyhip​ for my  amazing story banner! Officially marking the second half of the fic :D

“Dad…” Knuckles rap repeatedly against the wooden Tanner’s voice breaking through the layers of concentration; speaking in between each knock. “...dad…dad…daddy!”

He doesn’t look up, continuing to hastily scribble notes on the pad of paper in front of him; anxious to get all the thoughts and ideas out of his brain before they all become too much to bear. Strategic and tactical plans; lists of possible places Esme could be hidden away, transportation to and from, the names of two man teams that work best together, the best suited weapons and amount of ammo they’d need. Seeking refuge in his office when life was suddenly too much to handle; the kids’ incessant whining and bickering and the physical fights he’d had to break up between Millie and TJ. Unable to confront his own anger and fear and worry; needing to concentrate on taking care of his children and how to aid them through such a difficult time. Estelle finally coming to his rescue; insisting that he take some time to himself before he said and did things he’d regret.

“What’s up, Nug?”

“Are you busy?” Tanner inquires, and leans against the doorframe. “Can I come in? I don’t want to bug you.”

“I’m never too busy for you, you know that. And you also know that if the door is open…”

“I can’t just walk in, dad. Mumma said so. She said to always knock. To always respect your space and your boundaries.”

“Your mumma tends to go a little overboard sometimes. But no, mate. I’m not busy. You can come in.”

Bare feet slap against polished hardwood as Tanner hurriedly pads into the room. His impossibly thick dirty blond hair still messy and tangled from sleep and bouncing and swaying with each step: bangs tumbling over his forehead and skimming the middle of his nose. Shorter and heavier than both his twin and older sister, he’s shockingly strong and agile; fighting with the ferocity of four grown men when it comes time to be pinned down for blood or dental work. Every day occurrences much scarier for him than the others; terrified of what’s going to be done to him and what it would feel like, but equally as scared of being restrained.

It had been one of the first signs that something was ‘off’; the extremely heightened fight or flight response and the level of rage and aggression that no child should ever possess. Little by little other things became more noticeable. An aversion to labels in his shirts and the seams in his underwear and clothes, complaints that denim against his skin was ‘painful’, sobbing and begging them not to ‘hurt him’ whenever they tried to brush his hair. The pieces starting to come together when combined with concerns they’d noted -but had been ignored by medical professionals- when he was younger. He had taken much longer to potty train than his siblings and spoke at a much later age. Developed severe hyperfixations and began the obsessive lining up of various objects. And then he dramatically regressed; fine motor skills weakening -and in some cases disappearing all together- and suddenly unable to make eye contact with others .

It took until he was eight to be properly diagnosed; the time in between spent being bounced back and forth between useless doctors, given medications that only seemed to make things worse, and handed various ‘labels’. So much precious and valuable lost until they were finally able to get into him a very sought after and respected developmental paediatrician in Sydney. By that time, the word ‘Autism’ was being frequently used in whispered, late night conversations; researching it becoming a near obsession for both of them. Getting Tanner the right diagnosis and help had become their main priority, and soon th other kids began to feel neglected; experiencing growing resentment and bitterness towards their brother and the attention that they felt he was robbing them of.

While the final word on Tanner’s diagnosis had been expected it had still been a kick in the gut; feeling as if the ground had opened up beneath them and was threatening to swallow them whole. Esme’s hand tightening around his with a strength he hadn't known she ever possessed; her fingernails digging into flesh and breaking through the skin. And when he’d looked at her, there’d been genuine fear in her eyes; her shoulders rapidly rising and falling as she struggled to breathe. That was one of her babies after all; she’d fought tooth and nail to keep him alive inside her womb, and had spent countless hours and sleepless nights by his side when he’d been deathly ill in the neonatal intensive care unit. They had already talked many times about Autism in length; what it meant for their son and the rest of the family and how they’d do whatever it took to help him be ‘the best Tanner he could possibly be’. But it had still rocked his wife to her very core, and Tyler could already see the wheels turning; the mum guilt settling in and bringing with it the questions of whether she’d done something to cause it.

He can still remember the moment she’d come completely undone; halfway to the truck as it sat parked in the hospital’s underground lot. He had simply asked if she was hungry; they could stop somewhere and grab a bite to eat and maybe go through some of the pamphlets and reading material the doctor had given them. She’d stopped in her tracks, dropping his hand in favour of turning into him and tightly gripping his shirt. Her much smaller and lighter frame collapsing against his; unleashing heaving sobs that wracked her entire body and echoed throughout the immense, cement structure. He had witnessed her in the midst of many an emotional meltdown over the years; spurred on by the pain of childbirth, the lingering trauma from Dhaka, the agony brought on by tougher therapy sessions. But he’d never seen her THAT vulnerable; everything from anger and grief to guilt and fear. And he’d simply allowed her to cling desperately to him; not uttering a word as a hand tenderly cradled the back of her head and an arm wrapped tightly around her trembling body. Those heart wrenching sobs combining with the dripping of water, muffled conversations on the lower levels of the garage, and the rumbling of idling engines. And that familiar scent that clung to her hair; coconut and honey mixing with the structure’s traces of gasoline, dampness, and exhaust.

In a way, it was the closest he'd ever felt to her; both extremely vulnerable and scared for their son’s future and worried what was in store not just for their family, but for their marriage as well. During their research they’d come across the horror stories; husbands and wives that couldn’t make things work under the strain of raising a child with special needs. A lot of people simply can’t handle it; the changes it makes to the family dynamic, the stress it places upon not only the child with ‘issues’ but the others in the house as well, and the fractures it can cause in even the healthiest of marriages. Both refused to be part of the statistics; they’d gone through a hell of a lot worse and come out intact on the other side. Tanner would be fine and so would their bonds with their other kiddos and so would their relationship. They’d make the effort and find the time and do whatever they had to stay connected to one another.

Both will willingly admit it hasn’t been easy; their calendars often filled to the brim. There’s seven children to care for and show attention to; schedules full of sports events, school and extracurricular activities, and Tanner’s various appointments and therapies centred out of Brisbane. At one point, their relationship did begin to suffer. Pushing each other to the back burner while running themselves ragged to tend to their brood; barely having the time or energy for adult conversations, never mind a date night away from the hustle and bustle. It had taken Doctor Klein to remind them what was at stake; many a marriage crumbling under the strain and children suffering from having their lives completely disrupted. They HAD to nurture their bond; anything else was unacceptable and would only serve to destroy everything they’d already worked so hard to build. Neither were willing to give up easily and from that moment on, made the joint decision to actively work on THEM; weekly date nights and a weekend away a month, spontaneous lunches out, an hour in the morning after the kids left for school devoted to sitting with one another and actually listening to what the other had to say. It wasn’t always pretty; both feeling neglected and resentful and missing one another. Sharing a bed together at night yet feeling incredibly disconnected; sex suddenly nothing more than seeking and finding pleasure instead of ‘becoming’ part of one another.

It had been hard truths they’d both needed to hear and the daily ‘clearing of the air’ became an integral part of keeping things together. Soon the negatives stopped appearing in their conversations; they laughed and teased one another more and they held hands across the kitchen table or while walking along the beach. They were reminded that they were far more than just spouses and two people raising children; they were one another’s life lines and best friends. And once they actively made one another a priority, things quickly changed; they were more relaxed around one another and the kids, no more tension hung heavily in the air and they no longer second guessed many decisions they’d made over their years together. Solidifying the bond they had together; built on the ruins of Dhaka and made stronger by unwavering faithfulness, profound trust, and immense love and respect.

“What’cha doin’?” Tanner inquires as he stands behind his dad’s chair; his unruly hair brushing against Tyler’s cheek as he perches on his tiptoes in order to lean over his dad’s shoulder.

It’s rare he gets THAT close to someone right off the hop; affection and physical contact not coming easily to him. His parents and siblings long ago learning that Tanner does NOT like people getting too close; he hates feeling boxed in and as if his ‘space’ isn’t being respected, and can quickly go into meltdown mode. It’s simply smarter -and safer for everyone involved- if they just ‘hang back’ and let him come to them. Sometimes it never happens; Tanner preferring a list of ‘safe’ people that don’t feed into his anxiety and make him feel restless and unsafe. He stays as far away from Millie as he can; her emotions and temperament just far too much for someone as sensitive as he is. Brookie and Addie he can take in small portions; able to spend time crafting and colouring and reading to them and then needing a sensory break. He still clings to TJ; idolizing his older brother and seeing him as both his fiercest projector and ‘bestest friend’. His twin makes him feel safe; able to rely on him to have his back ‘no matter what’. And while Declan is loud and boisterous, they get along surprisingly well; Tanner often commenting about the red head’s ‘gentle soul’ and ‘beautiful heart’.

“Just finishing up some work. Tying up some loose ends.”

Draping a forearm across his father’s collarbone, he repeatedly rubs his smooth cheek against Tyler’s unshaven one. “When it comes to mumma?”

Tyler nods. He’s not surprised by Tanner’s resolve and calmness; at times able to ‘shelve his shit’ and focus solely -and intently- on others. A trait that he inherited from his old man; the tunnel vision that enables you from being hurt even more and gives you a sense of reason and usefulness.

A blessing AND a curse.

“Just trying to get a plan going. Cover all the bases.”

“So you can go and kick some ass?”

“Exactly. What’s going on? Sleep good? I know it was a pretty rough night.”

“I slept alright, I guess. You were gone when I woke up, though. Why’d you leave?”

“I was uncomfortable. You were lying on my head.”

“It was warm. And cozy.”

“For you, maybe. You could have suffocated me.”

Giggling, Tanner lapses into a perfect impersonation of Leslie Chow in The Hangover. “But did you die?”

Managing a chuckle, he begins tidying his desk; hand throbbing at the simplicity of shuffling papers together and sliding them into corresponding folders.

“You can kiss me good morning if you want,” Tanner says, and nuzzles the tip of his nose against his dad’s cheek.

“You’re in a rare mood,” Tyler teases, and turns his face into his son’s; gently pecking the ten year old’s puckered lips. “Good morning.”

“And a hug,” Tanner adds, as he sets a sheet of paper in possession face down on the desk and then steps around to the side of his dad’s chair; arms wrapping tightly around his neck. “You can hug me back and stuff. I don’t mind.”

“Someone woke up on the right side of the bed,” he chides, and returns the embrace; a palm flat against the small of his son’s spine and the other gently cupping the back of his head. Eyes briefly closing as he presses a kiss to the side of Tanner’s head; breathing in the combined smells of salty air and watermelon scented shampoo. “What’s up? You behaving yourself? Not causing issues?”

“Never.” Noisily pecking his father’s unshaven cheek, Tanner scrambles up onto Tyler’s lap and leans back against him. Small hands reach for those much bigger and than his; a child’s fingers pushing their way through longer, calloused ones. “Are you behaving YOURSELF?”

“I’m too old and achy not to be.”

“You’re not THAT old.” Tanner pulls much larger, stronger arms around his body.

“Tell that to my body.”

“How old ARE you?”

“Ancient.”

“How old is that?”

“Forty seven.”

“That’s not that bad. Is mumma that old? Or older?”

Tyler chuckles. “Older? You’re lucky she’s not here to hear you say that. She’s younger than I am. By almost six years.”

“So she’s only forty one?”

He nods. “She’ll be forty two in September. We’ll have to figure out what to do for her birthday, yeah? Throw her a party or something? Take her away somewhere nice?”

“Both?”

“If she’s good. So what’s up, Nug? What’cha doing in here?”

“I wanted to come and see you. And Nanny Stel said that lunch will be ready really soon. She’s making burritos. Chicken AND beef. You know how much I LOVE burritos.”

“You love food in general.”

“And I wanted to show you something. That I made. Wanna see it?”

“Always.”

He is always the first one to see one of Tanner’s creations; pictures that he’s drawn or stories that he’s written based on his dreams and purely out of the wildness of his imagination. The person that Tanner goes to when he’s struggling with his emotions or feeling overwhelmed and in desperate need of a ‘safe place’; his dad’s deep, soothing voice and his solid body and his familiar scent working wonders to calm the child’s restless soul and jumbled nerves.

It’s a far cry from how their relationship had once been; Tanner the most negatively affected when things had been so rough in Colorado. Three years old and already feeling things much more intensely than his twin and older sister; terrified of his father’s erratic behaviour and ferocious temper. Never directed at him or the other littles, but most certainly at his mother; Esme the target when the demons of drug and alcohol dependency reared their ugly head. It had been a horrible time for all of them. Tyler unable to shake the belief he was a total failure as a husband and father; dabbling in construction and renovation work and becoming frustrated at the mountain of bills and seemingly insurmountable piles of debt. Hating that he wasn’t a better provider for his wife and three little ones and turning to the one thing he knew he could do and do WELL. He had returned to the job without so much of a conversation with his wife; immersing himself in the most dangerous of missions because they were the ones that paid the good money. His reputation had still been intact despite the injuries he’d suffered in Dhaka and the years that he’d been away; his lingering quickness and enviable skill set once more becoming well sought after.

With the harder jobs came the injuries. And combined with undeniable tensions and resentment between him and his wife, it had been a quick return to booze and pain meds. He could numb both his physical and mental anguish; functioning in a haze of liquor and Oxy and at least attempt to put on a brave and stable persona. In reality, he’d been terrified of losing everything; feeling the second chance he’d been giving slowly slipping away. Esme had fought with everything she had; every waking moment not spent caring for their babies had directed towards trying to save him. She’d desperately wanted to keep things together; loving him despite his shortcomings and his multitude of baggage and the side effects from a life filled with trauma. But the more she dug in her heels, the more he tried to push her away, truly believing he was unworthy of her and the life they’d created and fearing that he would destroy her. A year passing before things hit rock bottom; the volatile arguments and the vicious things he’d said to her and the holes he’d punched in walls and the doors he’d ripped off hinges. And the bruises he’d unfortunately put on her; grabbing her when she’d attempt to walk away in order to give him a chance to ‘cool off’.

He’s not proud of the man he’d been during that time. And he makes no excuses for it. He’d hurt her. Badly. And his children had suffered as well; witnessing the fights and hearing the things he’d said out of despair, fear, and anger, and seeing their mother cry. Tanner had been impacted the worst of all; wetting his pants whenever Tyler so much raised his voice, cowering in fear the moment anger began to darken his father’s eyes and harden his face. And nightmares; horrible dreams that would have the little boy screaming in sheer terror and waking the entire house.

That had been the last straw. Esme refused to allow her children to suffer anymore than they already had and she’d kicked him out. Rightfully so.

It took Tanner years to stop being afraid of his dad. Remembering the fights and the times daddy made mummy cry. Those moments when he told her that she was the worst mistake he ever made; he regretted ever meeting her and she’d done nothing but ruin his life. When he returned home, Tyler had attempted to repair things with his children; TJ and Millie willingly and easily forgiving him while Tanner refused to even go in his direction, let alone go near him. And the more Tyler pushed, the worse it became; his son becoming increasingly attached to his mother and his behaviour problems escalating. Marriage counselling hadn’t been the only therapy they’d sought; finding a reputable child psychologist to work with Tanner and hopefully get to the bottom of his lingering fear and apprehension. It had been heartbreaking; the realization that not only did his own child hate him, he had been the sole cause of it. In the end, the therapist had told him to make things right, he first had to accept the state of them; own up to the role he’d played in damaging his relationship with his little boy. Stressing that if he wanted to fix things, he had to step back; show patience and restraint and let Tanner come to HIM.

Slowly but surely, things started to mend. He’d thrown himself headlong into becoming a better man; concentrating on strengthening his marriage and working on his temper and communication issues. A gruelling, in patient six week stint in rehab had helped him get clean and sober; healthier than he had been years in upon discharge. As the trust began to rebuild, Tanner became less tense and his behaviour issues started to improve ; finally sleeping through the night with no issues and doing so in his OWN bed. The harder Tyler worked at being there for his family , the quicker the trust and the comfort started to rebuild; Tanner taking baby steps in allowing his father back into his life.

It started slowly; being in the same room together whether it was eating a meal or Tyler spending time with the other kids. Steadily progressing to the point of allowing Tyler to occasionally step in for Esme. Giving her the opportunity to sleep as he handled the making of breakfast and getting the littles cleaned and dressed for the day; chauffeuring them to and from school and often taking them out for ice cream and to the park. In the evenings, Tanner would cautiously approach as the rest of the family watched television together; sitting at his dad’s feet or close enough on the couch that their legs would touch. In the end, giving him as much time as he needed to observe from afar paid off; Tanner building the confidence and the trust needed to willingly engage with his dad. He allowed brief moments of affection or comfort and happily conversed at the dinner table; boasting about his accomplishments at school and proudly sharing any and all information about his latest hyperfixation. And he’d not only grown increasingly comfortable with asking for help with his homework or school projects, but when requesting bedtime stories and to be tucked in.

But it wasn’t until Tyler returned from New Zealand that the rift between him and his son had been fully repaired. Tanner the most emotional during their reunion; racing across the dusty driveway and throwing his arms around his father’s neck and sobbing uncontrollably. Daddy was home and he was safe and he was promising to never go away again. And just like that, everything was perfect and right in Tanner’s world once more.

It had only been uphill from there.

“It looks a little better today,” Tanner observes; brow furrowed as gentle fingertips examine his father’s badly injured hand. “It’s not as swollen. Just really bruised. And some of the bones look crooked. Are they broken?”

“Probably.”

“Is it still really sore?”

‘It’s not too bad,” Tyler lies, and convincingly bites back the pain as he wriggles and bends his fingers and thumb. He’s been consistently working on strength and mobility since the moment he opened his eyes; fighting through the agony as he used both hands to dress, forcing the right to complete handwritten paperwork, repeatedly squeezing an Indian rubber ball stolen from TJ’s lacrosse bag. And some practice on both unloaded handgun and rifle; concentrating on grip and the durability and speed of his trigger finger.

“Do you think it’s going to be alright? For when you go and look for mumma?”

“I think it’s going to be perfectly fine. All healed up.”

“You know what I think? I think you’re lying. To make me feel better. ‘Cause I googled hand injuries and something nasty like yours? It should have a cast on it. You’re probably going to need pins put in your fingers. To reset them and make sure they grow straight. That’s at least three months of healing after that operation. IF you follow doctor’s orders. And we know how you can be…”

“What’s the supposed meaning? How I can be? What…?”

“Dad, you didn’t follow orders after you had the old…snip-snip.” Holding up a hand, Tanner mocks a pair of scissors with his fore and middle fingers. “That’s why Kota and Brookie are here.”

Smirking, he drops a kiss on the top of his son’s head. “How the hell do you know this stuff?”

“I hear things. And after that Nathan guy, mumma used to catch you all the time doing things you shouldn’t. When you were trying to get better. And she’d tell you to just be patient and take things easy, but you wouldn’t listen to her and you’d just go ahead and hurt yourself. You’re very stubborn.”

“I am,” Tyler admits. “But you know who is worse? Your mother.”

“Oh, I’m not denying that. She truly is the worst.”

“You know, you’re awfully damn smart. How’d you get so smart?”

“What can I say?” Tilting his head back, Tanner smiles broadly. “I come from good stock.”

Smiling, Tyler presses a kiss to his son’s freckled nose. “You most certainly do. You get that from your mumma. All the brains.”

“You and mumma are BOTH really smart. You’re just smart in different ways. Mum is book smart; she has a degree and she reads a lot and she’s really good at reading people and understanding people and what they’re going through. You’re more street smart. Look at how you can handle the bad guys! How you’re able to problem solve! Something goes wrong and you’re able to figure out a solution really fast. Maybe that’s why you and mum are so good together. Why you work so well. you're both really smart but at doing different things. You compliment each other.”

“That is probably the best way I’ve ever heard someone describe your mum and I.”

“You guys are different in some ways, and a lot alike in others. And you love each other and have a lot of fun together; you’re not just married, you’re besties too! I know people think you’re an odd couple ‘cause mumma is so tiny and you’re so big, but I think you’re perfect together.”

“I think we are too. Your mum’s pretty awesome. I’m a lucky guy. That she ever managed to come my way. And that she even gave me the time of day.”

“Why wouldn’t she? You’re a good guy. You’re not a bad person. So what if you kill people for a living?”

“I’m pretty sure killing people fits the definition of a bad person. And taking money for it…”

“But you kill BAD people. Not just any old regular person. Bad people who do bad things. We need less people like that. Good riddance, I say. And mumma kinda did the same thing for a living. I mean, it’s not like she didn’t know what you did.”

“Mumma wasn’t exactly as deep into it as I was.”

“But she still knew what you did and she still wanted to be with you. Something about ya she liked, right?”

“A whole bunch of something’s, I hope.”

“Do you want to know what she told ME?”

“I don’t know. Do I?” He slowly and carefully runs his fingers through Tanner’s tangled and unruly hair. “ How bad is it?”

“Not bad at all. It’s all good stuff. She told me that you were different. From everyone else she met through her job. You weren’t loud and obnoxious; you were quiet and serious and didn’t brag about killing people. She said you were good to talk to; smart and funny and attentive.”

“Smart and funny? That must have been the booze making me that way that one night in Dhaka.”

“She said you were ‘refreshing’ and that you seemed kinda nervous around her.”

“I was,” Tyler admits. “She was different, too. In a good way. A VERY good way.”

“And she said you had really pretty eyes. That there was a kindness in them. And a little bit of sad. You still had a lot of humanity left. For someone who’d been through what you had. I don’t really know what she was talking about. What HAD you been through? Austin dying?”

“That. And a few other things. That you don’t need to know about.”

“She also liked your arms,” Tanner continues. “And your hands. She said they were big and rough but could be really gentle, too. And then there was your butt…”

He laughs at that. “Yeah, she’s always had a soft spot for my butt.”

“Mumma REALLY liked you. Like, A LOT.”

“You think she still does?”

“Ummm, yeah! She’s married to you. She’s had tons of your tons. And she doesn’t just like you. She LOVES you.”

“Well, that’s good. ‘Cause I happen to love her. Now…” Leaning forward in his chair, he taps a fingertip against the paper Tanner had placed on his desk. “...what do you have here? A picture you drew? A story you wrote?”

“Not today. Today it’s something important. REALLY important.” Snatching up the item in question, the ten year old clutches it to his chest. “Now, before I show you it, I have to say a couple things. First, I’m still really, really, really sad about mumma. I miss her. A LOT. Just ‘cause I’m not constantly crying doesn’t mean I don’t.”

“I know that, mate. I know your heart. And how much you love your mum. I’d never question that.”

“Second, I’m also really angry. At the people who took her. First they steal her away, then they hurt you. I’m really pissed off. So I took how sad and angry I am, and put it towards something useful. Something that could help find mum. I can only cry for so long. I’m a man of action. Like you. I don’t like to sit on things. I want to do something! Anything. So…” Tanner flips the paper around and proudly holds it aloft. “...I made this!”

Tyler’s chest aches; a lump of emotion crawling up from the pit of stomach and constricting his lungs and heart. He’s rendered both speechless and tearful as he studies his son’s handiwork. A heartbreaking but lovingly crafted missing persons poster; bearing a picture of Tanner and his mum together and Esme’s basic information. It’s the photo that hurts the most; a close up of his wife and son taken on their last trip to Disney World. Esme holding Tanner tightly against her as they both face the camera; their hair mussed from the breeze and their skin sunkissed and the little boy’s lips stained bright blue from the slushie he’d been eating. And those smiles; broad and genuine as mother and son pose in their matching Mickey Mouse ears.

Neither parent had been particularly invested in the trip during the lead up; dreading both the extremely long flight and the juggling of seven kids at such a hectic place. But they’d made things somewhat easier on themselves and all the rugrats by renting a home instead of staying at one of the resort’s packed hotels; a bungalow on a quiet, tree lined street in Kissimmee that had indoor and outdoor pools and a hot tub on the master suite’s balcony. Once there, the kids’ excitement had made the trip more than worth it; Addie with her over the top emotional reactions to meeting Tinkerbell and Snow White, Millie on her best behaviour and helping take care of the smaller kids and joining TJ and Tanner on the rides.

On day three of seven, they’d decided to drop all the kids off at Disney World’s ‘day care centre’; making their escape before any of their spawn realized what was going on and then enjoying the park together. Esme’s joy had seemed to shine ever brighter and stronger than the kids; a forty year old woman who was in complete awe of her surroundings. He’d gotten a peek of that little girl that still existed inside of her; the one that had spent years looking for love and validation and a chance to just be a kid. And it had made him happy to give her that kind of experience; indulging in junk food and getting their pictures taken with various characters and buying her those mouse ears with her name embroidered on them. And he can vividly remember Esme flagging down a passerby and asking them to take a picture; insisting that while it wasn’t exactly Paris and the Eiffel Tower, she’d be happy with a kiss in front of the castle. He’d been more than happy to oblige; turning his baseball hat backwards and then cradling her face in his palms as he covered her mouth with his. Her lips sticky from the treats she’d consumed; tasting like a mixture of cotton candy, chocolate, and orange sorbet.

He had never feasted on anything more delicious in his entire life.

“Do you like?” Tanner asks, oblivious to his father’s threatening tears and the tremendous heartache. “That’s my favourite picture. It’s the one that I kept next to my bed. Mumma looks so cute, doesn’t she? Look at her freckles! The way the sunburn on her nose really brings them out! I have her freckles, you know.”

He presses a kiss to his son’s temple; desperately to keep it together. “Yeah, you do.”

“I don’t know how tall she is or how much she weighs. I figured you’d probably know and you could fill it in. Do you like it? Do you think it will help? Find mum?”

Nodding, he noisily clears his throat in an attempt to rid himself of the lump of emotion threatening to choke him. “I think it’s perfect, Nugs. It’s a beautiful thing for you to do. To help out like this.”

“I had to do something! I might be little still, but I can still help!”

“You’re a huge help. I know it’s helped me; having you come here like this. I needed it. Time with you. So thank you,” he kisses her son’s cheek. “For making this and coming to see me.”

“I didn’t know if you’d want company. I know it’s really hard. Being without mum.”

“It is. It’s very, VERY hard. But having you and your brothers and sisters? You all make it a bit easier to deal with.”

“I know you miss her. And it’s okay, you know. To admit that. How much you DO miss her.”

“I miss her a hell of a lot. I’m not used to this; not even being able to text her or talk to her. And I don’t like it very much. At all.”

“Me either.” Tanner briefly slides off his lap and then climbs back on; facing his father with both arms wrapped around his neck and their bodies pressed tightly together. “It’s alright, daddy. It’s okay to cry.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of that, believe me.”

“I didn’t mean to make you even MORE sad. I just wanted to help. I didn’t do it to make you upset.”

“I’m not upset. At all. Just a little emotional. Like I said, it’s a beautiful thing you’ve done for your mum. And I appreciate the help. You’ve got a big heart for a little bloke.”

“Do you think it WILL help? If we put those up? That maybe someone will see it and recognize mumma and know where she is? Do you think that’s a good way to do things?”

“Any help is good help. But I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you take that picture of you and your mum and put it back beside your bed. I know it’s your favourite and I don’t want it getting wrecked. You take it and I’ll find another one to use, okay? You keep that one just for yourself. That’s a special picture; just you and your mum together.”

“It IS my favourite,” Tanner says. “We had a lot of fun, didn’t we? At Disney.”

“We did. And when mumma gets home, we’ll talk about going again. But for now…” Moving Tanner onto his right thigh, he tends to carefully peeling the photograph from the paper. “...you take this and put it back where it’s safe. I’ll fill in the rest of the info and get a different pic to use.”

“Make sure it’s a good one! One where mumma looks really pretty! Not that that’s hard to find. She’s ALWAYS pretty.”

“I think so too. Although she’d say we’re pretty biased.”

“When you’re done with the poster, can you print up a whole bunch of copies? Maybe after lunch we can go into town and hand them out. And leave some at the bookstore.”

“I promised I’d take Addie and Brookie down to the beach. Keep them occupied. They want to look for rocks and shells and sea glass. Want to come with? Just tag along?”

Tanner nods. “I think I will. I’m in a rare mood today. I don’t want to stay inside. You promise you’ll finish this? That you’ll get a different picture and fill in the rest of the info?”

“You know what, I’ll do it right now. Why don’t you go and tell Nanny Stell that I’ll be in a few minutes. And don’t you dare go eating all those burritos.” He digs his fingers into his son’s side; tickling until the ten year old is squealing and squirming and begging him to stop. “ I’ll be pissed if you don’t leave me some.”

“She’s making tons! But I’ll make sure a bunch is left for you. Thank you, daddy.” Pressing a kiss to Tyler’s lips, Tanner slides off his lap. “For finishing this for me. I really hope it helps.”

“I think it will. You’re a good kid, Nugs. Full of heart.”

“It’s my mumma. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I mean, I’d do all of this for you too. But it’s different for some reason. I don’t know…” Sighing heavily, he clutches the photograph tightly to his chest. “...it’s my mum.”

“Your mum is a pretty awesome person. And you’ve always been really close to her.” Reaching out, he tucks strands of hair behind Tanner’s ears. “ I remember when you were born; how sick you were and how they had to rush you to the special nursery. Your mum was so upset; she had some complications and she couldn’t go with you. All she wanted to do was be with you.”

“But you stayed, yeah? With me?”

“I did. I either slept in a chair right next to you or in mumma’s room. It was the longest four days of my life, that’s for sure. The scariest too. You were just a tiny little guy. But tough. So tough.”

“Like you. And mum. You’re both tough. Just in different ways.”

“Your mum is…by far… the strongest person I have ever met. And I’ve met a lot of strong people.”

“That’s how I know she’s going to be alright. She’s strong and she can outsmart the bad guys. And you’re going to be out looking for her. There’s NO ONE that can do that job like you can. You’ll make them pay, right? For ever touching her?”

“I will,” Tyler promises. “Every last one of them.”

“Good. And don’t worry, dad,” Tanner curls an arm around his neck and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Mumma knows you’re coming.”

*****

It’s hard to even walk through the door of the bookstore; immediately accosted by all the things ‘Esme’. The jewel coloured couches and armchairs with their brightly patterned throw pillows, the neatly organized and well stoked displays tables and shelves, the chalk and whites boards covered in her printing; various colours of marker and chalk that display each genre, advertise the newest releases and best sellers, and list the treats and drinks being offered. It had always been a dream of hers; move to a quiet little town and open up a bookstore that would appeal to the locals and draw in the tourists.

From the moment she’d told him about it at the beginning of their marriage, he’d vowed to make it happen; initially putting away any extra cash he’d make doing construction and reno work while they lived in Colorado. Even when things got bad and he once more fell into the darkest recesses of addiction, he’d never touched a cent in the account he’d dedicated to making her dream a reality. Managing to live off very little of the money he earned on the job; staying in a cheap motel while the majority of his cash went to his estranged wife and their children. He HAD to take care of them; pay the bills and keep a roof over their heads and clothes on their backs and food in their bellies. And he’d remained determined to not only make amends and get his family back, but to hold up to the promise that he’d one day get her back to Australia. It had been a hell of a difficult secret to keep; wanting so badly to tell her about his plans whenever he’d visit the kids and she’d accuse him of not taking proper care of himself and ‘pissing away’ his money on booze and painkillers. But he’d kept it to himself; feeling no resentment towards her for the allegations. After all, she’d had every right to be upset; he had gone back to the job without telling her and he had reverted to being an active alcoholic and pill junkie. And he HAD hurt her. Terribly. The holes punched in walls had been long repaired and the ripped off doors had been placed back on their hinges, but he would never be able to take back the horrible things he’d said in fits of drunken rage.

He would have died had she not called him that night and begged him to come home; there’s no two ways about it. And he can remember what her voice had sounded like; tearful and pleading and full of worry. Telling him she loved him and missed him and desperately wanted to fix things; as long as he was willing to put the work in and agree to some ‘rules’. She would NOT live with an addict and she most certainly wouldn’t subject their children to that lifestyle; they deserved so much better than an unstable environment and parents that fought all the time. Yet she never put the blame solely on him; admitting to her own faults that had caused some of the issues between them. She carried a lot of baggage of her own; the years of emotional abuse at the hands of her mother, the horrific treatment at the hands of her ex husband, the damage that her family was hell bent on inflicting upon her second marriage. And there was resentment; the feeling that she had lost all of her identity and been relegated to nothing more than a wife and mother.

“We both fucked up,” Esme had stressed. “We both have toxic traits. And unless we BOTH deal with our shit, we aren’t going to make it. And I want to, Tyler. I WANT us to make it. I want that so badly. I want US…YOU… that badly.”

He’d been more than willing to do whatever it took to repair things between them; he was spiralling out of control and was likely only a handful of missions away from a very bloody and gruesome demise. And that would have destroyed her; wracked with misplaced guilt that kicking him out had b kickstarted his path towards death. He couldn’t fault her for her decision and it hadn’t exactly been easy on her either; desperately wanting to hold onto him and save him, yet having no choice but to cause tremendous agony and uproar in ALL of their lives. Her reasoning had been sound; the alcohol and drug dependency caused him to be irrational and volatile. He was a danger not just to himself, but to her and the children as well.

While initially he’d been angry, he’d quickly acknowledged and accepted his role in fucking things up. He’d crumbled under the weight of lifelong trauma and his overwhelming fear of being a failure as a husband and a father; he needed help and he knew it. It was terrifying even for him; reverting back to the person he’d been when Esme had first wandered into his life. A booze and drug addicted mercenary with a death wish; a recluse that hid himself away from the rest of the word as a form of punishment. He’d already begun missing visits with his kids; too drunk to show up at visitations and birthday parties and school events. And he hated THAT man; the one that brought tears to her eyes and broke every promise he made and made her feel nervous and afraid. When they’d made the decision to get married, he had promised her that he'd be the husband that she needed, wanted, and deserved; vowing to do better and be better than he had the first time around.

So it had been an easy decision; agreeing to all her terms and moving back in after a six week stay in rehab. Clean and sober and healthier and stronger than ever. Returning to Australia had simply been the final piece of the puzzle; the best thing he EVER could have done for his family. The emotional breakdown in New Zealand the unlikely catalyst he’d needed; walking away from job and the cash from the IRA sitting in the bank. Millions of dollars that had given them much needed stability and had made making a huge decision so much easier.

Yet he’d still held onto the secret savings account he’d opened up in Telluride; routinely transferring money into it and patiently waiting for just the right moment to surprise her. It would take until their tenth anniversary before he could make her dream a reality; the time in between spent growing and nurturing their family. Six successful -if not slightly stressful- pregnancies that would result in seven little ones in as many years; beautiful, amazing little humans that he didn’t quite feel he deserved. And they’d poured a lot of love and hard work into what had once had been just an average four bedroom home; transforming it into a dream home big enough for their brood. Extensive renovations and additions to both the main dwelling and the existing outbuildings; adding three extra garages that would be transformed into a businesses spaces and a gym. Little by little, they’d created their own slice of paradise on that dead end gravel road; acres of land to expand upon and woods to roam and a generous slice of private beach made of powdery, near white sand.

A week shy of their tenth anniversary, he’d wandered upon an empty store front in the quaint and cozy downtown area; calling the realtor and requesting an immediate tour of the building. Price hadn’t been a concern and he hadn’t even inquired about it; willing to pay the cost that comes with owning in a highly sought after area. Rich in foot traffic; locals and tourists alike that would enjoy someone like Esme and her little bookstore brightening up the street. It had needed a lot of work; foundation repairs, new roof and insulation, refurbishing of the hardwood floors and all new electrical. But to him it was perfect, and he’d been willing to spare no expense in order to bring her long held dream to fruition.

Somehow, he’d managed to keep his secret right up until the very end. Convincing her that they had to start their ‘trip’ earlier than usual; following in the yearly tradition of turning a one day event into a three away. Cairns had been her choice for their tenth; an easy, relatively short -and extremely picturesque- drive down the coast. With three still in diapers at home, she’d wanted to be far enough from them that it seemed like a proper get away, yet close enough ‘just in case’. It had been the first time away ALONE since Nathan had broken both his body and his mind; finally able to bear full weight on his badly injured leg and successfully weaned off any and all pain heavy duty pain medication. He had felt better than ever; relieved to have at least the physical nightmare behind him. No more living in chronic agony, no longer chained to his addictions, and finally able to resume the life he’d had before Nathan had nearly put him in the ground.

He had arranged for a late check in; planning to stop at the hotel and quickly unload their belongings before heading for dinner. Reservations at one of the fancier establishments; a renowned surf and turf place with top shelf whiskey and award winning wines. They’d only been there once before; a year prior when Riley had thrown Shaena a fortieth birthday celebration. Things had been rough; he’d been six months removed from a second knee replacement after a catastrophic failure of the original. It had been his own fault; pushing himself too hard, too soon and blowing out both the ACL and MCL. He’d still been using crutches and he felt like absolute shit about himself; hating the dramatic loss of both weight and muscle and the inability to put any of it back on. Esme would successfully snap him out of those moods; giving that tender smile and taking his face in her hands and pressing kisses to his brow and his lips. And forever looking at him like he was the most incredible man on earth.

That night, by the glow of their sister in law’s birthday candles, his wife had remarked about how beautiful the restaurant was; dipping into a second bottle of wine as she marvelled over the reflection of the moon upon the water and the smell of the salty air. As if she was an awe struck tourist and they hadn't spent the several years living in Queensland. She’d been particularly emotional; a mixture of the alcohol she’d consumed, the hell they’d been walking through since Nathan, and the love fest Riley was holding for her significant other. And she hadn’t been the only one feeling especially vulnerable; listening to her laugh as it floated on the breeze and marvelling over her smile. Finding himself caught up in thoughts of how -despite the enormous physical differences between them- they’d always seemed to fit JUST RIGHT. As they held hands atop the table, he had watched the way moonlight sparkled in her eyes and had enjoyed the sensation of the pad of her thumb repeatedly brushing against the base of his.

And he’d realized -just like that- that he’d fallen in love with her all over again.

Naturally, returning to Cairns had been easy to agree with; the perfect celebration of a decade together. There’d been naysayers; those who thought they wouldn’t make it six months, never mind ten years. Most who doubted them had had their own lives apart. Suffering through ugly breakups that were followed by even uglier divorces and custody battles. Yet they’d continued to grow even closer despite all the obstacles tossed in their way; their love and their bond deepening in the face of troubles that would tear much weaker couples apart. He’d found himself nervous about that night; their first time alone since his very near death experience and the clock counting down on the surprise he’d waited years for.

Even now, he can vividly remember what his wife had been wearing; a little black dress that she’d picked out just for that weekend. Just for HIM. One shouldered and fitting like a second skin and reaching just above her knee; rather daring for someone who’d given birth to seven children in as many years and had been struggling with her self confidence. But she’d rendered him absolutely speechless when she’d stepped out of the bedroom and he got that first glimpse of her. That dress perfectly paired with simple black heels, minimal make up and her hair pulled back into a sophisticated bun. All words had seemed to betray him, and when she’d stood on her tip toes and run her palms down the front of his dress shirt and straightened his tie, he’d complimented her the only way he could manage. Cradling her face in his palms and kissing her. Like it was the very first time.

Confusion had narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brow when he’d pulled up to that empty store; the windows covered in newspaper and a roofer’s scaffolding climbing up the bricks. There’d been a sign taped to the front window; “SOLD TO A VERY NICE COUPLE” written in bold, black letters. He recalls opening her door for her and offering a hand; the way she’d tilted her head to the side and looked up at him with the little grin she’s famous for. The one that starts with a sparkle of the eyes and her top teeth dragging over her bottom lip; her expression mix of apprehension and mischievousness. Once on the curb, he’d wrapped an arm around her waist, hand on her hip as he and pulled her tight against him. And when he felt her shiver in the chill of the night air, he’d slipped off his suit jacket and draped it around her; smiling at the way she giggled and finding himself amused by the sight of his tiny wife swimming in a pool of charcoal grey fabric.

He had stepped behind her, dropping a kiss on the top of her head and then settling his hands on her shoulders. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“This place. The store.”

“I think it looks empty. Why? What are we doing here? Who does it belong to? What…?”

“It belongs to you.”

Giving a small laugh, she’d tilted her back to look up at him. “What do you mean it belongs to me? What…?”

“I figured it was time that you had something all for yourself. It’s been ten years; since we got married and had Millie and started a whole new life. Look at everything that’s happened since then; six more kids, Nathan, our own business. It’s not like you’ve really had the time to do your own thing. You’ve been having babies and raising them and…”

“WE’VE been having babies,” she’d gently interjected. “I mean, I was the one who physically had to have them. But you had to have some part in it; not like I made them on my own. And I haven’t been raising by myself, either. You’ve always been really hands on.”

“I wasn’t in Colorado.”

“Colorado was a shit show of epic proportions. For BOTH of us. Please don’t do this, Tae. Underestimate the part you play. In my life, our kids’ lives. Things were horrible back then. You’re not the same man you were. We’re not the same couple. Please don’t think you don’t play a huge role in things.”

“I just think at times you’ve put in a lot more than I have. When it comes to our family. And I guess I worry you think it hasn’t been appreciated. Everything you HAVE put in. All the times you’ve totally stepped up and handled shit on your own.”

“I did what I had to do. To keep things together. You’ve done the same; stepped up the plate when I was down and out and couldn’t even get out of bed some days. And yeah, maybe at one time when things were really crappy, I WAS a little resentful. You were out working and sometimes I felt trapped and alone. I felt like I wasn’t Esme anymore. That I somehow lost who I was and the only thing I was good for was being a wife and a mother. And let’s face it, there were times I was a really shitty wife. Where I could have done A LOT better.”

“You were far from being a really shitty wife. You were a good wife who had a shitty husband.”

“We were both overwhelmed. And frustrated. Things happened so quickly between us and although we’ve regretted that, I think once things started going bad in Colorado, everything else caught up to us. It wasn’t all you. When things went to hell. I could have done things a lot differently.”

“You did what you could. Not like either of us had a lot to work with. Unless you want to count the stress.”

“It was hard,” she’d agreed. “But in the end it was worth it. WE were worth it. I like to think it made us a hell of a lot stronger; going through all of that and not letting anyone or anything yank us apart. I know it made us love each other and appreciate one another more; we got to see one another in ways we’d never considered. And I know at first almost broke us, but hey, all’s well that ends well, right? Because here we are, Tae. Ten years in. An entire decade! And for the most part, it’s been a great ten years. Or at least I think it has been, anyway.”

“I can’t think of anyone else I would’ve wanted to go through all the bad shit with. Come to think of it, I can’t think of another woman that would willingly put up with my crap.”

“Well lucky for you…” She’d turned to face him; smoothing her hands down the front of his shirt before hooking her index fingers over the waist of dress pants. And standing on her tiptoes, pressed a kiss to the underside of his chin. “... the right woman just happened to come along. One that COULD put you in your place. And keep you there.”

“It was also pretty lucky that she ended up being totally hot,” he’d teased, using a fingertip to clear a wayward strand of hair away from her cheek. “And that ass…”

Laughing, she’d briefly rested her forehead against his chest, then once more peered up at him; lips delicately curled into a smile, her eyes sparkling. “Leave it to you to come up with something just a bit pervy.”

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.”

“No. You wouldn’t. I’d honestly worry about you if you didn’t come out with SOMETHING dirty. So don’t ever change, okay? Because I kinda like you the way you are.”

“You know, I was just thinking the same thing. That I kinda like YOU.”

Grinning, she’d leaned her body into his. “Kinda, huh?”

“Just a bit.”

He’d kissed her. The brief, feathery brush of his lips against hers. And then had once more placed his palms upon her shoulders and turned her towards the empty storefront.

“What DO you think?”

Esme shrugged. “I think it’s got great bones and a lot of potential. Why are we…?”

“I just wanted you to have something that is ALL yours. Something of your own. That you could fix up and make it just the way you want. I know it’s been hard; concentrating on just being a wife and a mother. And I wanted to give you something that gave a part of you back. Am I making any sense right now?”

“You’re starting to get me very emotional is what you’re doing.”

“I wanted you to have something that was just YOU.” Gliding his hands across her shoulders and down her arms, his palms had settled on her hips; pulling her tightly into him. Ignoring the pain that had radiated across his lower back as he’d leaned over her; pressing a kiss to her temple before resting his cheek against hers. “Everything you’ve done, everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve given up, now it’s time to get something back.”

“I didn’t do any of it because I wanted some kind of pay off in the end. I did it because I love you. Because you’re my heart. And because from the moment I met you, I knew I wanted a life with you. And it’s been a good life, Tyler. It really has. It’s been a great life.”

“I just want to make it better. I know how hard things have been. I know that I haven’t always been the easiest guy to live with. In the same way I know that deep down inside of you? That little girl is still there. The one that wants her bookstore.”

“That’s what this is about? What this is for?” Her voice had cracked with emotion. “That’s what you want to do?”

“I know it’s something YOU’VE always wanted to do. You’ve never let go of that. I just wanted to help it happen in some way. What DO you think? There’s a lot you can do with this place. You think it’s okay?”

“I think it’s perfect.” Swiping at the tears that escaped down her cheeks, she’d turned to face him. “YOU’RE perfect.”

“We both know I’m far from that.”

“I can’t believe you even thought about this, let alone went ahead and did it. No one’s ever done anything like this for me. Ever. No one’s ever done much of anything. And yet here you are, always doing even the littlest of things. And now the biggest of things.”

“You should know by now, Me.” Tenderly cradling her face in his hands, he’d cleared away the remaining tears with the pads of his thumbs. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

And then he’d kissed her. Right there in the middle of the sidewalk.

*****

As she tends to cashing out a customer, Clover gives a fingertip wave and a small smile; corners of her mouth curling up in a mixture of sadness and worry. He sees the pity as well; the ‘you poor bastard’ that normally comes when discussing the demons of his mental illness and the ongoing battle he fights to keep clean and sober. It will always be there; forever an addict, active or not. And in the past forty eight hours he’s felt himself spiralling out of control; longing for the escape that getting drunk and high used to provide him with. Needing it now more than ever; intense pain coupled with the agony of losing the most important thing in his life and not knowing how to get it back.

He gets Takota and Tanner settled in the kids area; preferred snacks and drinks from home that he’d packed and the oldest boy had dutifully -and proudly- carried in a backpack. The room is spacious and bright; three walls done in primary colours, the third plexiglass that enables parents to see in and kiddos to see out. Easily accessible book shelves no higher than his waist; the tops decorated in glass jars of betta fish and succulents in small clay pots. Plastic bins filled with toys and items to dress up in; princess dresses and Harry Potter scarves and superhero capes and all the accessories to match. On the weekend and after school it’s sheer madness; each day’s schedule filled with reading clubs and tutoring sessions and birthday parties.

During the week it draws the older crowd; those who like to browse the various sections or grab ‘free to read’ newspapers and magazines and hunker down in one of the many comfortable armchairs. There’s others that are daily regulars; those who come solely for the atmosphere. Retreating to the patio where they eat home baked goods, sandwiches, and soups and sip strong coffee, various flavoured teas, or lattes and cappuccinos. So loyal and devoted that mixed with stellar reviews from tourists, the store has been mentioned in over a dozen publications in Australia ALONE and many others worldwide. Earning such praises as a ‘refreshing gem’ and ‘a return to the simpler quieter time when bookstores were THE PLACE to go’ and ‘one of the top ten MUST SEE treasures in Queensland’.

Shortly after one pm on school day is empty and quiet, and the exact environment the two need. Easily overwhelmed by too many bodies and noise, they’re able to bond over their shared struggles and co-exist peacefully and happily. Tanner always more than willing to keep an eye on his little brother and aid him anyway; always available for a snuggle when Kota finds things a little too tough to deal with.

“You guys gonna behave?” Tyler asks, as Tanner excitedly dumps the contents of his in store mailbox onto one of the tables. “I need to talk to Clover. So if you’re just gonna bug me…”

“About mum?” Tanner counters, and begins arranging his letter by size and colour of envelope. “And my posters?”

“And a couple other things.”

“I might have to pee,” Takota informs him, as he pulls a chair over to the aquarium. Thirty gallons and built into the far wall; boasting multicoloured pebbles and plants and various kinds of fish. “I can’t tell you if I have to pee?”

“You know where the bathroom is.”

“I don’t like going alone. The hand dryer scares me. And you gotta wash your hands after you pee. And especially if you poop!”

“Tanner will take you to the washroom. No coming out for stupid shit, got it?”

“What’s considered stupid shit?” Takota asks, climbing up onto the chair and settling himself on his knees.

“Look, unless someone is bleeding or passed out or has broken something, there’s no reason for you to come out there.”

“What if I just miss you?”

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he runs a palm over his son’s hair. “Tell you what, if you miss me? Just knock on the glass and I’ll hear you and wave you out if it’s okay. Sound good?”

“Sounds good. Maybe Clover knows where mummy is. Maybe mummy has called her. Or texted her.”

“Maybe.”

“You should find out. Maybe mummy is stuck somewhere. Maybe she got away from the bad guys and she’s stuck somewhere and just needs you to go and pick her up.”

“You never know. Be good.” He drops a kiss onto the four year old’s head. “Please.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him, dad.” Tanner promises, and then drops his head back; smiling up at his father as he stands behind his chair. “He’s always good with me. He’ll watch the fish for a while. Keeps him calm. I’ll give him a snack if he gets hungry.”

“You’re a good big brother. You’ll be alright?”

“I got stuff to keep myself busy. Don’t forget to give Clover my posters. So she can hand them out to people.”

He holds aloft a manilla envelope. “I won’t forget. Remember, unless you desperately need me…”

“I got things under control, dad. Kota won’t give me a hard time. We’re buddies. Do you think maybe he’s right? That maybe mumma called Clover?”

“There’s always a chance. Stranger things have happened.”

“Mumma might be hiding somewhere,” Tanner reasons. “And might just need you to go and pick her up. Do you think that could have happened?

Ruffling his son’s hair, he manages a smile. “I think it’s good to be optimistic.”

****

Waiting for the bell above the door to chime and her customer’s departure, Clover steps out from behind the register. “I’m surprised you managed to get out of the house with just two in tow!”

“Brookie and Addie were fast asleep when I left,” Tyler explains, and offers a hand to Marmalade as she lounges in her usual spot on the front counter; the three legged ginger tabby purring loudly as she repeatedly brushes her face against his knuckles. “Shaena’s keeping an eye on them. Estelle took the other ones to a movie.”

“It’s good to keep them occupied. They’re still so young and everything is just so crazy and is probably so scary for them and they’re missing their mum and…” Blushing, she chews pensively on her bottom lip. “I’m rambling. I ramble when I’m nervous.”

“What’s there to be nervous about? You’ve never been that way around me before.”

“It’s not that you’re making me nervous. The whole situation is. I’ve never been through anything like this. Or anything even close to it! And I don’t really know how to act or what to say or…shit!” She claps a hand against her forehead. “Now I’m making it all about myself when I should be concentrating on you and the kids and…”

“There’s a lot of people concentrating on us. And I know it’s a pretty messed up situation. For everyone.”

“I just can’t believe it even happened. Was there any warning? Was somebody threatening her? She never mentioned anything to me. She never talked about anyone bothering her or creeping her out or anything like that.”

“Just someone from her past with an axe to grind. Feels like he was wronged in some way.”

“Well what does he want? What purpose does taking Esme serve? Do you think he’s going to hurt her? Do you think he’s going to do worse? What…?” Sighing heavily, Clover briefly closes her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just not very good in a crisis. Especially one that hits so close to home.” She tentatively reaches out; running a hand up and down his bicep. “How are you? How are you holding up? This can’t be easy. At all.”

He wants to tell her that it isn’t easy in the slightest. That it’s the most difficult thing he’s ever been through. Perhaps surpassing even the death of his son and the horrible decision he’d made in the months before. Life has changed so much since then; given a second chance and conquering some of his demons while managing -on the good days- to keep the others at bay. He’s not the same man he was when he lost Austin; he’d died on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. And while he’s still enormously flawed and often overwhelmed with the mistakes and burdens of the past, he’s come a hell of a long way. Blessed with a new life; surrounded by people who love him and accept and forgive when he can’t even forgive himself.

Now the person directly responsible for all of that is gone. And he’s unsure if he’s ever going to get her back.

Instead of the truth, he manages a reassuring smile. “I’m doing alright. Best that I can expect, I guess.”

“Look at you…” She reaches out to inspect his injuries; gentle fingers tracing the line of stitches and gliding over the various bumps and bruises. “...oh my God, Tyler. For them to be able to do this to YOU…”

“Just caught me by surprise, is all. I’m not as quick as I used to be. Reflexes aren’t as sharp.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. No one does. They would have had to take you down. Before you even had the chance. And there definitely had to be more than one. To do THIS kind of damage?”

“It was just bad luck. And a couple bad decisions. I’ll be fine in a couple days. Already feel myself getting stronger. And we’re getting a plan together. On how to find her. Nik will be arriving tonight. She’s a pain in my ass at times, but she’s damn good at what she does. And always has my back.”

Clover tightly squeezes his hand in both of hers. “I am so sorry. I can’t believe anyone would do this. Especially to Esme. Andy and I were going to pop by later. Just to see how you and the kids are doing. Is that okay? Do you mind? Andy’s been having a hell of time with this. He just loves you guys so much. We both do. He’d really like to see you.”

“I’d like to see him too. I would have called when I got back, but…”

“Things have been crazy, I’m sure. We’ve just been worried, that’s all. When Shaena called and told us what happened, we couldn’t believe it. It was like a really bad dream. I woke up this morning hoping that’s all it was, actually.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, and casts a glance towards the kids room; Tanner standing alongside Takota's chair as he points out the various types of fish and offers up random facts. “So did I.”

“And the kids? How are they doing? They’re still so young. And to lose their mum like this…”

“She’s not lost,” Tyler interjects, and then gives an apologetic smile; hating the tone of his own voice. “She’s out there. Somewhere. And I’ll get her back. If it’s the last thing I do.”

“Bring her AND yourself back. One is no good without the other. And the kids…”

“They’re coping. The best they can. Everyone’s feeling it in a different way. I’m going to keep them off school. Until things are settled. None of them are in their right frame of mind. And it’s a safety thing too. If someone got that close to Esme, who knows what they might be capable of. Last thing I need is them getting close to my kids.”

“Well if there’s anything you need…and I mean anything…please don’t hesitate to reach out. I know what you’re like. We ALL do. You close yourself off and you think you can handle everything on your own. And then you end up wearing yourself down. You’re no good to anyone if that happens.”

“I’ll be alright. Like I said, I’m already feeling better. Stronger. Another day or two and I’ll be ready to go. In the meantime, I need a favour.” He offers the manilla folder. “Tanner made a missing poster. He’s been putting them up all over town. You think you could put one in the front window? And the rest by the cash?”

“Of course! Anything to help. Anything.”

“Just keep them there long enough for him to see them. He’s got a huge heart and he means well, but nothing good will come of this. Last thing I need is someone calling the cops or the press about a missing person. And he won’t understand WHY it’s a bad idea. He just wants to help. And if I tell him the posters can’t be used, it’s only going to hurt his feelings. And he’s already been through enough.”

Flipping open the folder, Clover smiles down at the lovingly made poster. “Always amazes me the hearts your kids have. You’re doing right by them, you know. Both you and Esme are.”

“I only do well ‘cause I have to help me out. If I had to do it myself, I’m pretty sure things would just fall apart. Right now I’m trying to concentrate on that. Hurts too fucking much.”

A loud rap of knuckles against pexiglass captures their attention. Takota with his palms and nose pressed against it; head tilted to the side and his eyes wide and hopeful. Like a puppy at the shelter longing for a passerby to pay attention to him.

“He’s too much,” Clover laughs. “But damn cute.”

“He’s a character that one. Not to sure who he’s like. Mum or dad.”

“I don’t know. Something tells you might have been a bit of a nutter when you were little.”

“I had my moments. Thank you; for taking care of things on this end. Watching the store, now the posters. Think you could go around and take down the ones Tanner put up? I don’t want to do it in front of him. I’ll text you when we get home. That’s nowhere around to see you do it.”

“Like I said, anything you need. Anytime of the day. Andy and I will be there. No questions asked.”

He allows himself to be embraced; eyes closing as he loosely wraps an arm around Clover’s waist. Needing something...anything...to ground himself.

“It’ll be okay,” she assures him, and softly rubs his back. “Everything will be okay.”

He wishes he had her confidence.

[crybabyjuju]

Glamrock Monty x GN!Sick!Reader

A/N: I DID IT. I finally made a Monty story. :,) Feel free to ask for commissions. I don’t have much ideas.

You buried your face into your pillows as you were hit with another wave of nausea. You were only left to blame this on your coworker as you were suspicious of their sniffles the day before. You pulled your face out of the comfiness before you and took out your phone to see a miss call from your favorite; Monty. For some reason the animatronics at the megaplex were given their own phones. This, of course, was because the company received a lot more money seeing that the crew were more interactive with their fans online.

You may or may not have binged watched Sun’s Glitter Glue DIY’s.

You opened your phone to see what the alligator animatronic had sent you.

Monty: where u at

You: I’m sick. They’re not allowed to send me back to work until I’m feeling better again.

Monty: lmao get wrecked beitch

You chuckled at Montys text. You guys would consider yourselves friends, being that you both were always hanging out whenever you had the chance. Given the fact that you worked around the Gator Golf area, you both saw each other often. You would either see him on the floor helping out kids with their golfing, or up in the catwalks above you. You were always curious about what brought Monty to find peace up there.

One day, you took the decision during your break to go up and follow him. Luckily, you found a map that showed that there was a vent in the Mazersize that was able take you up into the catwalk. As you made your way to the end of the vent, you peeked through the small slits to see Monty walking and occasionally looking down onto the floor below. Unbeknownst to you, you were leaning just a bit too hard on the vent screen and-

“Son of a b-”

“Hello?”

You looked just a few feet below you to see the alligator animatronic peer up at you from the catwalk. “How’d you find me here?” He asked, his cajun accent hinted in his voice.

You patted the dust that you collected from the vent off of you and stood up. “I’m uh…” you nervously trailed off. “I’m Y/N. I was on break and you looked… lonely?” You answered truthfully. Monty crossed his arms and studied you closely. Even with his eyes hidden behind those funky sunglasses, you couldn’t help but feel anxious knowing his eyes were staring at you. “Wait a minute.” He said as his eyes widened and his arms moved to his sides. “You’re the one that works down on the golf course.”

You took notice of his tail swinging back and forth just for a moment. “The workers here usually kinda ignore me.” He admitted, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Well, I won’t ignore you. Heck, you’re pretty cool!” You gushed. Monty smiled proudly and lifted his sunglasses, revealing his fiery red eyes. “You wanna destroy little kids?”

Your eyes widened.

“In golf! No, seriously! I meant golf!”

Alas, Monty was programmed to be around children so he couldn’t help but let the little one’s win. Maybe there were a few older children he would taunt and you would stand there in absolute fear of getting punted by a 14 year old. The last thing you’d want is you passed out on the floor of the pizzaplex while a child fortnite dances over your unconscious body. You eventually managed to convince the gator that the kids didn’t want to have anything to do with him cause they knew they wouldn’t win against Monty.

Bringing you back to reality, you could feel the pounding in your head get worse and worse. You’re certain that at least Monty would understand your situation and won’t harass you whenever you get back to work. Then again, this was Monty you were thinking about. Monty, who asked you why you weren’t at work during a “closed for maintenance” day.

Your migraine started to become unbearable to the point you decided to take a nap. As you closed your eyes, you hoped that Monty would be fine a few days without you.

{}{}{}

You woke up to the sound of your phone being blown up with notifications. You groggily lifted your head and unlocked your phone to see that it had been Monty. “What the hell does this guy not understand about a sick day?” You mumbled to yourself.

Monty: the place is about to close

Monty: do u want to play among us

Monty: chica said she’ll join

Monty: nevermind she doesn’t want to play

Monty: ok im coming over

Monty: 

Monty: lol

You noticed that the last message was sent over an hour ago, so you assumed that Monty was still lost out there. You groaned in frustration; throwing your jacket on you and slipping on some shoes. Just as you were about to walk out your door, you began to hear a bang coming from the otherside of it. You opened your door to see none other than the animatronic gator himself.

“Monty,” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “how did you get my address.”

Monty handed you a file with your name on it. “It says so on your resume.” 

You snatched the file from his hand and threw it across the room. 

Monty nervously looked at you as you stared up at him. “You need to go back to the pizza plex.” You said. If anyone found out about the alligator missing from the zoo, all hell would break loose. You can just imagine all the youtube videos that are probably being uploaded of Monty wandering outside and spotted near your neighborhood.

“Can I just maybe hang out for a bit?” Monty asked. “Look, I’ll even make you something to eat. It’s southern hospitality.”

{}{}{}

Monty burned the food.

You don’t even know how. You walked away for 15 minutes and came back to an almost burned down kitchen. Turns out Monty has never cooked before. You weren’t surprised but you really should’ve seen this coming. 

As you both finished fanning out the smoke and tossed your charred what was to become food away, you started to feel exhausted.

Monty took notice of this and came up to you. “You feeling bad?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your warm body. He picked you up bridal style and carried you into your room where he laid you down in your bed. As he adjusted you into the soft mattress, you noticed he seemed worried and sincere about you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I just wanted to be here for you.” 

You smiled and held your hand up for the animatronic. “I appreciate you, Monty.” 

You grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bed with you. Monty crawled in and wrapped his arms around you, the cold metal cooling you off from your fever. You snuggled into the animatronic and slowly fell asleep in his embrace.

{}{}{}

“Pizza’s he-”

You opened the door and blinked at the robot in front of you. It was a staff bot from the pizza plex that delivered pizzas to your location.

“Is Monty in there?” You heard a voice coming from the robot. You took a few seconds to recognise whose voice it belonged to. “

“No, Chica. Uh, Monty isn’t here.” You scratched the back of your neck.

Suddenly, Monty appeared from behind you. “What’s with the wait?”

You slowly looked behind you. You panicked. “O-oh! Monty! What are you doing here?”

[tobesolonely]

it’s not christmas ‘til you come home

a/n: hello!! please enjoy this piece from my dad!harry universe! (u dont have to read any of them for it to make sense, but it would be cool if u did! loosely based on it’s not christmas ‘til you come home by norah jones <3 hope you enjoy! thank u to @harryysstyless​ for beta reading for me!! happy holidays everyone :)

warnings: SMUT, a bit of angst <3 word count: ~5.1k 

my ko-fi! thank you :)

December 23rd, 2:00 PM

For as long as you and Harry have been in a relationship, you’ve never not spent a Christmas together. 

Before expanding your family, you and he used to hop from party to party every Christmas Eve. Both of you would be absolutely trashed by the time Harry’s driver would drop you off at his house in the early hours of the morning. You’d sleep in until approximately noon, willing your hangovers to go away before finally making it down the stairs and into the kitchen to prepare two steaming cups of coffee. The two of you would then make your way into the living room and exchange gifts (where Harry always went way over the budget you’d set). 

Once you had your first child, Allison, your yearly tradition of party hopping and getting so drunk you could hardly put one foot in front of the other was no more. Instead, you and Harry opted for calm nights in, watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa until she eventually grew tired and got carried up to bed. You would wait an hour or so before springing into action, playing Santa and setting out all of the gifts she asked for and then some. Harry never forgot to take a big bite out of the cookie and carrot left out for Santa and his reindeer.

This tradition stayed the same once your second baby, Oliver, was born. Even though he was too young to know what was going on, Harry was still excited to spoil him rotten this year as it was his first Christmas. However, given the current state of the world, you were afraid Harry would not be here for the first time ever.

“Mumma, when’s daddy coming home?” your six-year-old, Ally, asked for what had to be the seventh time that afternoon. “I made him a drawing for his gift ‘nd I can’t wait for him to see it!”

“Let me see what you drew for Daddy, love bug,” you say cheerily, purposefully glossing over her question. Ally proudly holds her drawing up next to her face. She looks up at you with wide eyes, awaiting a compliment from you. 

“That’s gorgeous, bug! Daddy’s gonna love it,” you inform her. “Maybe you can stick a lil’ bow on it and set it under the tree for him, hmm?” 

“Good idea, Mumma!” Ally runs to the box where you kept all the supplies for gift wrapping, digging around for a pink bow to stick on the corner of her drawing.

While she’s preoccupied with finding the perfect bow to place on her drawing for Harry, you take a quick glance at your phone. He still hadn’t gotten back to you since last night’s quick conversation when he very briefly mentioned he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it home.

He was filming in Los Angeles. You shared your uncertainties about him going before he departed but in the end, this was an opportunity you didn’t want him to miss out on. You read the Los Angeles Times free articles on your phone daily, keeping track of the state of the pandemic in Southern California. You knew it was much worse there than it was at home in London. You feared what you were afraid of was sadly bound to happen— Harry may get stuck in LA.

You didn’t want to say anything to your curious daughter because communication with him had been so sparse. You didn’t know anything for certain yet. But what were you supposed to think? You knew flying nationally wasn’t a good idea at the moment, never mind internationally.

“Hey bug, d’ya think you can watch your brother for a moment? Mumma’s gotta go make a phone call.” 

You hear your daughter let out a slightly irritated sigh. “I suppose I can, Mumma.” Ally responds with a voice laced with exasperation. You chuckle slightly under your breath at your overly dramatic (much like her dad) six-year-old and head into the kitchen, quickly dialing your husband’s familiar number.

“Hello?” 

You let out a sigh of relief upon hearing Harry’s low, hoarse voice. 

“Hi, honey. Just checkin’ in to see how things are going…” you hear shuffling on his end. “It’s December 23rd, you know.”

“I know, love.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Six in tha’ mornin’ here.”

“I’m sorry, H. S’just Allison keeps on askin’ when you’ll be home and ‘m just so worried you won’t make it home on time and you’ll miss Oliver’s first Christmas—“

“Darling,” Harry interrupts your anxiety-fueled ramble. “‘M gonna make it home. Have I ever not been there when I said I would?” 

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m just worried, Harry. I hear traveling is going to get very strict because they’re trying to prevent people from going anywhere for Christmas…”

“Fine, then I’ll get my own plane with jus’ me and a pilot. Wear a mask the entire time and whatnot. Yanno I can make that happen if it’s necessary, pet.” 

Harry’s calm demeanor about the whole situation brings you a bit of peace. Perhaps you were catastrophizing something that wasn’t as big of a deal as you thought it was a mere two minutes ago. If he wasn’t worried about not making it home, you didn’t see any reason to stress about it— not for one second longer.

“Okay then,” you reply, still a bit wary of his travel plans. “What shall I tell your daughter? She’s drivin’ me up the walls asking where you are every twenty minutes.”

Your husband lets out a breathy laugh, causing you to giggle along with him. “Tell her not to eat up all the Christmas cookies before I get a taste of one.”

December 24th, 8:45 AM

Part of you was hoping you’d wake up on Christmas Eve and Harry would be tucked into bed next to you, plump lips parted, the sound of his snores the only noise in the room. However, you were a rational woman, if nothing else. You knew he wouldn’t be by your side when you woke up. 

You make your way down the hall and peek inside your son’s room. He was fast asleep, plump thumb in his mouth. You smile at your sleeping baby and gently close the door behind you, deciding to let him sleep in a bit longer before waking him up to feed him. 

Next, you walk to your daughter's room, gently pushing open the door in case she was still sleeping. Instead, you find her sat at her desk, deeply focused on what appeared to be another drawing. 

“Good morning, lovebug,” you greet your daughter in a sing-songy voice. “You’re up early. What are you working on?”

“Makin’ a letter for Santa,” she replies, not bothering to look up from what she was doing. 

“A letter for Santa?” You start racking your brain for anything you and Harry could’ve possibly forgotten to get for Ally, but you finished your Christmas shopping for your children way back in November.

“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly. “‘M askin’ him to make sure my Daddy is home by tonight so we can eat cookies together and watch Toy Story, Mumma.” 

“I’m sure Santa will make that happen for you,” you reassure her. “You’ve been a very good girl this year, been so helpful with Olly and doin’ so well in school. The least Santa can do is get you whatever you want.” You see her smile as she digs around in her crayon box.

“Can we wait ‘til Daddy gets home to make Santa’s cookies, Mumma?”

“Sure we can, bug,” Ally claps her hands together excitedly, bouncing around in her tiny chair. “Gonna go make some pancakes, does that sound yummy?”

“Can we have chocolate chip pancakes please?”

“Are you askin’ me that because your dad isn’t here to throw a fit about it?” You give her a knowing smile, causing her to giggle.

“Maaaaybe…” Your daughter turns to face you, swinging her legs back and forth.

“If I make your chocolate chip pancakes, you can’t tell your dad. Deal?” You hold up your pinky. Ally gets up and runs to you and you bend down slightly so she can link her finger with yours.

“I pinky promise, Mumma!”

“Our little secret, yeah?” she nods. “Keep an ear out for your brother for me, bug. I’ll be downstairs.”

December 24th, 3:00 PM

“Love? ‘M afraid I got some bad news...”

As soon as Harry’s voice comes through on the other line, you can tell whatever news he’s about to share with you won’t be what you’re wanting to hear.

“What is it?”

It’s silent for what feels like entirely too long. You get up from your position on the couch next to Ally, telling her you’ll be right back. After breakfast, she convinced you to watch Toy Story with her, which quickly turned into a whole Disney movie marathon.

“Not so sure I’ll be able to make it home.”

You’re not sure if it’s his calm tone that bothers you, the fact that you didn’t want him to go to Los Angeles in the first place, or simply the fact that you and your children missed him terribly and haven’t seen him in nearly a month–– but your mood changes from relaxed to undeniably outraged in three seconds flat.

“You’re kidding.” Your tone is sharp, venomous. Harry once again takes a moment before responding, knowing that the current tone of your voice means he’d best proceed with caution.

“‘M not, love. I woke up early and everything to try and get this sorted out, it’s 7 AM so I was gonna try and catch an early flight––”

“I told you I didn’t want you going to LA,” you cut him off, voice rising slightly. “You knew how bad the pandemic was getting there. I told you this would happen.”

“What do you suppose I do then, Y/N?” His tone is becoming equally as sharp. “Y’want me to tell ‘em, “Sorry, I don’t give a fuck about the travel restrictions. My wife wants me home so let's make it happen!” ‘S that what you want me to do?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Harry,” you spit. “I’ll give the phone to your daughter and you can tell her you won’t be home in time for Christmas, then.”

“Y/N…” his tone is calm again. Fearful. “Don’t make me do that.”

“She woke up early to write a letter to Santa to tell him she wants you home by tonight, Harry,” your tone softens as well. “Even Olly has been asking for you. Swear his new favorite word is ‘dada’.” He laughs at this as do you, and the shared tension that was present just minutes ago dissipates. 

“Just… lemme try a few more things before I tell her, yeah?”

“Harry, it’s already three here,” you gently remind him. “Even if you do make it home today, she’ll be asleep by the time you’re home. I think you just need to tell her.”

Your husband sighs, knowing you were undeniably correct. “Alright. Give Allison the phone, please.”

December 24th, 8 PM

“Almost time for you to head to bed soon, yeah Allybug?” Your daughter lets out a loud sigh in response, not shifting her gaze from the television to you. Ever since Harry told her he wouldn’t be home in time to eat cookies with her, she’s hardly said a word. She’s never experienced a Christmas Eve without her father so understandably, she was missing him tonight.

You shift Olly, who was falling asleep nursing on your lap, into a different position so you could face your daughter directly. From your new position, you can see just how tired she looks. 

“‘M not sleepy, Mumma. Gonna stay up and wait for Daddy,” she informs you of her new plans. “When Daddy is home that’s when it’s time for bed.”

“Ally, remember what Daddy told you on the phone earlier? Santa won’t come unless you go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna sleep,” she’s quickly starting to grow upset. “Not until Daddy tucks me in!”

You purse your lips, not wanting to argue with your headstrong daughter when your son was so close to drifting off into his nightly milk coma. Turning your attention back to the movie that was quietly playing on the television, you decide to drop it for now and try again later.

December 24th, 9:05 PM

Not more than an hour later, Olly is upstairs in his crib fast asleep whilst Ally is still laying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, fighting sleep. She was determined to stay up until her father walked through the front door, and you knew getting her to agree to go to bed was going to be a battle and a half.

“You’re not ready to go to bed yet, Ally?” Her eyes fly open once she hears you addressing her.

“Not yet, Mumma. ‘M not sleepy yet.” Her words are a little slurred due to the exhausted state she was in. You hum in response.

“Could’ve sworn your eyes just shut for a minute there,” you pause for a second to see if she’ll look your way. “Must’ve just been my old lady eyes playin’ tricks on me, y’think?”

“I wasn’t sleeping!” She immediately defends herself, frown lines indenting her forehead. “Can we drink more hot chocolate?”

You knew if you wanted your daughter to fall asleep within the hour, another sugar rush wasn’t the best idea. You instead offer her a hot cup of sleepytime tea and she excitedly agrees once you tell her it’s her father’s favorite type of tea to drink at bedtime. You place her down on the kitchen counter while you fill the kettle and wait for it to whistle.

“What are you looking forward to the most from Santa, bug?” 

Her eyes light up at your question. “Well, I really want a new bike! ‘Member Mumma? How I asked him for a pink bike? And I also want a cool swing set! Since we haven’t been able to go to the park in so long,” her smile falters and she looks down at her dangling feet. “I want Daddy to come home the mostest, though.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to break in two upon hearing your daughter admit that Harry being home would be the greatest gift of all. “So do I, lovebug. He’ll be here in the mornin’ to watch you and your brother open all the gifts Santa got you though, don’t you worry.”

For everyone’s sake, you hoped that was true.

December 24th, 11:50 PM

Sleep wasn’t coming easy. 

You finally got your daughter to bed at around ten o’clock and waited thirty minutes before laying out your children’s gifts. It took much longer than it usually did considering you had to do it all on your own. Harry was usually the one to quickly assemble the larger toys while you laid everything out around the living room. 

Despite it taking longer than desired, you were proud that you got it all done without waking your children up. Consequently, that meant you were now left all alone with your thoughts considering you had no more tasks to occupy yourself with. 

You kept contemplating calling Harry, but you weren’t sure if he was busy on set or not. Surely he was immersing himself in work to distract himself from the fact he would not be spending Christmas with his family. 

Deciding you may need a cup of the sleepytime tea you offered Allison earlier, you quietly get out of bed and open your door, sock-clad feet padding softly against the wooden floors. It’s unnervingly silent in your home–– the tea kettle coming to a boil being the only source of noise. You keep unlocking and re-locking your phone, finally deciding to call your husband to see how he’s spending his day. It goes to automatic voicemail.

You assume the reason for this must be that he’s busy filming on set and set your phone down with a sigh, standing on your tiptoes to retrieve a mug from the cabinet. You mutter a slew of curse words under your breath intended for Harry who always puts the mugs up far too high even though you tell him not to.

Right as you begin pouring the now boiling water into your teacup, the faint jingling of your front door causes you to startle so badly that you nearly drop the kettle on the ground. You try to think back to everything Harry ever told you to do in the event of an intruder but your mind goes blank from fright. Deciding to use the scalding water as your weapon, you slowly creep towards the door, your only plan being to fling the water on whoever it was as soon as they got the door open. As soon as you hear the lock click, you flick the lid open that covers the spout and draw your arm back.

“Shit––”

“Harry?”

Your husband jumps slightly, his eyes blinking rapidly in an effort to adjust to the dark living room. You reach beside him and quickly turn on the light, shakily letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He looks exhausted, his hair is an absolute mess, and his eyes are red from sleep deprivation–– but he’s home. You set the tea kettle down on the coffee table and fling yourself into his arms, breathing in the scent of the man you haven’t seen in a month. He drops his bags at his feet so he can properly embrace you, pulling you into him.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays like that for a moment saying nothing, just breathing you in. “Missed ya so fuckin’ much.

“How? I thought…” you trail off. “You said that they said…”

Harry laughs quietly. “Remember what I told ya? I said to ‘em, ‘Don’t give a fuck about your travel restrictions! M’wife wants me home.’” You laugh at him, knowing he was far too kind to talk to anyone that way. 

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically. You pull him in for another hug, placing wet kisses along his jawline. “I’m so happy you’re home. The kids are gonna be over the moon, especially Allison.” Harry hums, surveying the room.

“Looks like you did a good job in here, Mrs. Claus. See ya even assembled some toys all by yourself,” he quirks an eyebrow. “Were you jus’ pretendin’ not to know how to do it all these years so I’d be stuck with all the hard labor?”

“Maybe.”

He pulls you back into him, tickling your sides. “My sneaky girl,” he bends down so his lips are level with your neck and sucks gently, causing you to let out a quiet moan. You see his eyes land on the tea kettle that was sitting forgotten on the coffee table. “Making a cuppa? Can I have one? ‘M freezin’.”

“I can think of something else we can do to get you warmed up,” you reach for his hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “If you know what I’m gettin’ at.”

“Hmm…” Harry releases one of his hands from your grip and taps at his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Not too sure I can say I know what you’re sayin’. Maybe you should just tell me?”

You frown. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

“Y’know I’d give you the entire world if you asked me for it. All you gotta do is tell me what you want from me and it’s yours–– ‘m sure you’ve known that since the first day we met, though.” Harry takes a step back, crossing his arms across his chest. Even in his thick winter coat, you can see the way his biceps flex, and it makes you even more feral for him.

“Fine,” you say quietly, feeling yourself start to grow shy under his intense gaze. “I’m kinda... in the mood.” You say it so softly that it would most likely be inaudible to Harry if he wasn’t standing mere inches away from you. Harry throws his head back in laughter and you quickly shush him, not wanting any of your children to wake up.

“In the mood? C’mon, pet,” he uncrosses his arms and reaches for one of your hands. “Tha’s not tellin’ me what you want from me. Tell me exactly what you want, lovie.”

“You know what I want, H,” you tell him with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “It’s been a month. Yanno I want you to fuck me, why are you makin’ me say it?”

Harry gives you a shit-eating grin. “You jus’ said it. I didn’t make you say anything.”

You roll your eyes at his immaturity, already in the process of lifting your nightshirt (one of his old t-shirts that’s become just a little too tight on him) over your head. “Are we gonna get to it or not? Because if not, I’ll just go back to makin’ myself some tea and call it a night––”

Harry takes half a step towards you and reaches up to cup your face, colliding his lips with yours. His lips are a little chapped and taste of his favorite rose lip balm. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, knees going weak as he walks you back onto the couch.

“You’ve been eatin’ up all the sugar cookies, haven’t you? Can taste it on ya. Thought those were for Santa,” he’s pulled away from you to examine your face. “A bit naughty of you, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Please stop referring to yourself as Santa when we’re about to have sex, Harry.”

“You’re not bein’ very kind to the person that’s about to go down on you, are you?” He sucks harshly on the valley between your breasts, wanting to be sure a deep-colored bruise will appear on your skin later. “That’s okay. It is Christmas, after all. ‘M in a giving mood.”

“Stop talking and get to it then.”

Harry slides off the couch and onto his knees in between your legs, gently kissing your thighs. “Cute pair of undies–– s’like you knew I was comin’ home tonight.” Before you can respond Harry’s fingers are tugging at the waistband of your underwear, eager to get them off of you. He presses light kisses to your core, mumbling about how much he missed the smell of you and how sweet you tasted. 

One hand is resting across your stomach while the other one is in between your folds, spreading you open. You try squeezing your thighs around his head, overwhelmed by the feeling of your husband’s lips around your clit after being away from him for so long, but he removes his hand from your stomach and pushes your thighs back apart.

“Feels so good,” you’re breathless, tangling your fingers in Harry’s hair as his hollowed cheeks begin to suck more roughly on your clit. “Missed you so much. Missed this–– us.” 

Harry pauses momentarily to look up at you. “I know, angel. God, do I know.” He attaches his lips back on you, swirling his tongue around your clit as you  choke back your moans. The hand that is holding you open moves down to toy at your slit as he wordlessly checks to see if you’re okay with his fingers being in you. 

“Please,” you say softly, encouraging his next move. He spits on his index and pointer finger before slowly sliding both of them in you, immediately curling them up. “Oh, Harry. Fuckin’ love when you do tha’...”

“Know you do,” His response is curt, simple. He’s focused on the task at hand–– getting you off. He uses the hand that’s lying across your stomach to rub tight circles on your clit, sensing you’re nearing your orgasm from the way you’re starting to clench around him. “Such a good girl fo’ me, darlin’. Gonna make a mess on my fingers in a second, aren’t you?”

You nod as you try to control your breathing and the loudness of your moans. The last thing you wanted was for your daughter to come down to inspect the source of the noise. “Fuck, Harry.” 

“Come on, darlin’,” he gently pinches your clit, causing your body to jolt at the sensation. “Gimme a good one. A lil’ welcome back gift for me, hmm?” 

Your hips are bucking up to the rhythm of his fingers slipping in and out of you as your orgasm quickly approaches. “Har, I’m close…” it comes out sounding more like a warning than a statement. He moves the two fingers he has inside of you in a back and forth motion, coaxing your first orgasm out of you.

“Tha’s my girl,” he whispers, not stopping his movements even as your back arches as your first orgasm rolls over you like a giant wave. “Givin’ me a good one jus’ like I knew you would. Jus’ like you always do. M’ sweet girl.” As you’re starting to still, Harry pulls his fingers out of you and holds them up to your mouth, instructing you to suck them clean. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can properly lean in to steal a kiss from him and notice a rather sizable tent has formed in his pants. Harry gives you a sheepish grin as he palms himself, hissing from the feel of his palm against his cock.

“Want me to do somethin’ about that?” You scoot over on the couch and pat the spot next to you, signaling for your husband to sit beside you. He lifts himself from his seated position, stretching his legs out a bit before plopping down beside you.

“Are you offerin’ me a blowie?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Can we skip that an’ you can jus’ ride me instead? Think I’d quite like that.”

“Oh you would, would ya?”

Harry nods and unzips his pants, taking himself out. He licks his hand and gives himself a few pumps. “Still on birth control, I’m assuming?”

You roll your eyes as you move to straddle him. “Only been gone for a month, Harry. Of course ‘m still on it, you goof.”

“Can never be too careful. I don’t think now’s a good time for another lil’ one, do you? Think we should at least celebrate Oliver’s first birthday before we try for another one.” His hands are on his hips as he lines you up over his cock, helping you slowly sink down. You missed the burn of him which was even more intense than it usually was considering it’s been a while since he’s taken you.

“I think you’re right,” you reply. You rest your head on his shoulder while you adjust to the size of him, needing to take a moment to yourself before attempting to move. After a short adjustment period you begin rolling your hips, grinding against him in a way that was also bringing pleasure to your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your last orgasm.

Harry’s eyes are fixated on the way your breasts bounce in front of him, the way your stomach slightly jiggles each time you crash back down onto him. His lips are caught in between his teeth; you’re hoping he doesn’t break any skin so you don’t have to hear him whine about how badly the bruise hurts him later.

“Ridin’ me like your life depends on it,” Harry mutters. “Fuckin’ love takin’ you like this, angel. So fuckin’ deep.”

You simply hum in agreement, brain far too foggy to form a coherent sentence. Harry notices your movements starting to become smaller, lazier, so he puts his hands on your hips and decides to take over. He’s thrusting up into you like you’ll up and run away from him if he doesn’t give it his all. He cups your face with one hand and gently guides you towards him, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

“Fuck, H,” your eyes are squeezed shut and your wrap your arms around his neck, feeling your second orgasm quickly approaching. “Rub my clit please, almost there.”

Harry’s fingers immediately come down to rub at your slick nub, not faltering his relentless pace in the slightest. “Clench around me again, lovie,” his voice is higher than usual, whiny, and you know your husband is just as close as you are. “Love when you do tha’, jus’ need you to do it one more time.”

You do as he wishes once more, knowing once he cums you’ll be directly behind him. Harry lets out a string of expletives as he releases inside of you, pulling you tightly against his chest as he rides out his orgasm. You continue riding him, not slowly down as you chase your own release next.

“Harry,” you’re in a trance-like state, chanting his name over and over as you bring yourself over the edge. “Harry, fuck!”

“That’s my good girl,” he says quietly, rubbing your back as you rest your head on his shoulder while you catch your breath. You feel him beginning to soften inside of you so you lift yourself off and lay back on the couch, legs still shaking. It’s quiet for a couple of minutes as the two of you reveal in the afterglow of your orgasms, Harry gently running his fingers along your leg.

“Round two in the shower?”

December 25th, 6:42 AM

“Mumma! Santa came and he left lots of toys–– Daddy?”

Harry lets out a dramatic “oof!” as Ally jumps onto him, pulling the covers back. Her eyes are wide and she giggles are Harry pulls her into one of his infamous bear hugs, placing kisses all over his face.

“Mornin’, love bug! What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“It’s Christmas, Daddy! Santa came!” she sits back on her feet, a confused look on her face. “Did Santa bring you on his sleigh last night after me ‘n Olly went to bed?”

“Y’know what? He told me to keep it a secret, but he did,” Allison gasps in response to his news as she processes it, placing a little hand over her mouth. Harry sits up and gets out of bed, scooping her up in the process. “How ‘bout we go make Mum a cuppa before we see what Santa got for you and Olly? Tha’ sound good? Let’s let them sleep for a while longer, hmm?”

As you hear them exit the room you take a second to reflect on how lucky you are to spend another Christmas with you beautiful family before drifting back off into a deep, albeit short, sleep.

[theclassiccake]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how in the original Peter Pan, Peter canonically goes and continues to "kidnap" future darling children, so what if there was one generation where, y/n being the mother in this case, was super overprotective (in an almost comical way) because she didn't want her child being swept away by Peter because she knows how dangerous Neverland is, but somehow gets swept up into their adventure? But now that she's older finds herself relating to/spending more time with Hook instead? Would you happen to have any headcanons for that? (Can be romantic or platonic, really up to you! I just like the concept).

An absolutely great concept, omg!! 💕

(This ended up being longer than I thought it would agdsgfd)

No warnings, apologies for the delay and any typos

Being a member of the Darling family, you've heard the stories before. Countless times. About the boy who never grew up, Peter Pan. You'd be living better off if you had a dollar for every time you've heard that name...

Peter Pan.. even as an adult, it still left a bad taste in your mouth. The stories never appealed to you very much as a child. Instead, you couldn't help but resent them.

Despite only hearing about Neverland and never being there yourself, you still had your worries plague you.

You found yourself becoming more paranoid as the years passed. Often checking the locks on your windows or looking for any odd shadows in your room. It turned into a habit and stuck around by the time you had your own child. Their name was Jessie.

You love them with all your heart, you truly do. The only thing is.. they happened to grow a fascination for those same stories you dreaded listening to.

They learned about Neverland through your distant relative, Jane. She would recite her adventure as well as her mother's. Jessie loves whenever Jane visits, since she would be the one to talk about Peter when you wouldn't.

She understood your concerns and you're thankful for the times she tried to reassure you. Yet you still worried...

---

It was a night like any other, quiet and peaceful as you tuck Jessie into bed. After checking their room one last time, you go to close the door and head to your bedroom. You make your way down the hall, running a hand through your hair as you feel the exhaustion set in.

Then you catch a glimpse of something by the window.

It passed by too fast for you to make out, but it shined brightly like a lantern. And you could've sworn you heard a small bell ringing...

You felt your stomach sink.

In a haste, you rush back over to the nursery. You swing the door open and desperately search for Jessie. You freeze at the sight in front of you.

The window, that you made sure to lock, was now wide opened. The curtains swaying back and forth from the cool breeze. On top of that, Jessie's bed was empty with no sign of them in the room.

In a panic, you run outside the house fearing the worst. You look up to the night sky, hoping you're not too late. You call out to Jessie once you spot them, they turn back and happily wave to you as if they weren't floating dangerously high off the ground right now.

Tears threaten to stream down your face as you plead them to come back down. Jessie thinks for a moment, then gets an idea.

They go to grab Tinkerbell and shake her until plenty of fairy dust comes out. The dust lands ontop of your head and makes you sneeze. Suddenly, you feel yourself slowly floating up.

Jessie beckons you to follow them and wastes no time to catch up to Peter. With much effort, you manage to fly higher off the ground. The stars litter the night sky in beautiful unorganized patterns.

You desperately try to catch up with Jessie, hoping that you'll be able to stop them before they leave for good. It wasn't long until you lost sight of them though.

You frantically look around, but can't see anyone. You try to recall the stories you've heard, there was a certain way to find Neverland you were sure of it.

A star- no two stars. You needed to find two of them. If only you could remember.. You're about to give up when you notice two bright stars next to each other, glistening in the dark of night.

Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning.

Now it was all coming back to you.

---

It feels like it's been hours since you were searching for Jessie. The night was already slipping away as the sun began to rise. You couldn't find a clear sense of direction with the clouds flooding your vision.

You would've chosen different clothes to wear if you knew the night would lead to you chasing down your kid. And you flying in the air.

You're beginning to think that you'll never find them. They haven't been without you for this long before. Will they be fine without you? What if you never see them again?

Will you be okay if you don't?

You feel the panic setting in once again. But something else feels off. Like you were physically sinking. Rather quickly.

Before you knew it, you started to fall from the sky. Past the clouds and towards a large clearing of water. You barely had the time to register where you were. For certain, you did see an island and a huge rock in the shape of a skull.

And.. was that a ship??

Everything went black before you could tell for sure.

---

You wake up to the murmur of voices, along with a slight headache. Your eyes squint under the harsh sun, blurring your vision a bit. The voices around you become quiet. Once you sit up straight and your sight clears, you try to process what you're seeing.

A group of middle-aged men covered in tattoos and tattered clothing. A rancid smell makes you want to cover your nose. You decide against it when you noticed the weapons they carried.

You take a look around and confirm that you are indeed on a ship. An old one at that.

Okay then.. you're making a wild guess in thinking they're the pirates. Or at least they're supposed to be? If anything, they look like knock-off versions of the costumes kids wear on Halloween.

You're about to say something when a door swings open from (what you're assuming is) the captain's quarters. The crowd of pirates blocks your line of sight, preventing you from making out who it is. But you have a feeling who it might be.. pfft yeah right.

The group makes way for the captain as he saunters over to all the commotion. Now standing in front of you (with a short older man at his side), the captain takes a moment to study you. His cold gaze makes you want to shrink.

A man with long black hair dressed in ringlets, a thin mustache rests above his lips. He wears a remarkable red coat with a feathered hat to match. In one hand, he holds the hilt of a sword, kept in place by its scabbard. And the other hand.. you see that he doesn't have one. Instead he wears a polished hook...

A breath hitches in your throat once you realize who this man is.

Captain Hook.

He asks his crew mates about you. They speak over each other and try to explain they saw you fall from the sky like a comet. You fell into the water and they brought you onto the ship to dry off.

You almost miss Hook's question, still trying to figure out if you're just having a weird dream. He asked how did you end up here of all places.

Well, he hasn't killed you yet so that's good. Maybe you still have a chance to go find Jessie before you lose them forever.

You stand up and brush yourself off. You force yourself to look at the captain, afraid that he might think of your avoiding gaze as a rude gesture. You don't know him personally, but from the stories you've heard you still don't want to take any chances in offending him.

You try to recall the events from last night. It was late and Jessie was supposed to be asleep. Instead, you found them flying through the air with.. Peter. Next thing you knew, you started flying yourself and tried to chase after them. But they got out of sight and left you aimless. You remember falling and waking up here.

Hook's shoulders tense at the mention of Peter. His hand gripping the hilt of the sword tightly. He turns to the shorter man next to him (who you now know is Mr. Smee) and orders him to have you brought into his quarters.

Hook looks you up and down, his face scrunches up a bit. He tells Smee to find you something more suitable to wear.

---

You sit in the captain's quarters with an uneasy silence. Fidgeting on the antique chair you're sitting in. You take notice of the luxurious decor around the room. He.. definitely has very expensive taste, it's a lot nicer than the furniture you own.

Hook is across the room, his back turned to you as he studies a map on the table. He puffs out a cloud of smoke while looking it over. The cigar holder in his hand is certainly one of a kind, a design you've never seen before.

It's still difficult for you to believe that all of this, and the events that occurred last night, is real. You've come to the conclusion that you're not dreaming. Unless you are dreaming, then it's scaringly realistic.

Real or not, finding Jessie is your main priority. Nothing else matters right now, you just want to make sure they're alright.

You jolt in your seat at Hook's voice. He asks who this "Jessie" is, on account that you mentioned them earlier.

You sigh and explain to him they're your child. You're here to bring them back home, you need to know they're safe. But with Peter, you're not so sure. If only you were able find that wreck less boy first.. maybe he could lead you to Jessie.

Hook lets out another cloud of smoke with a huff. His back still turned to you as he snuffs out both cigars. He looks up from the map and takes a moment before speaking again.

He says you're both in the same dilemma and he sympathizes with you, truly. He's been trying to track down Pan many times before with no such luck. But perhaps you could help each other out.

You ask what he means by that..

He swiftly turns to face you, wearing an overly polite grin. Hook explains if you help him find Peter, he'll help you find Jessie. A win-win situation in his book.

You don't answer right away, so he continues.

He goes on to say that Jessie's safety isn't guaranteed with Pan. The boy knows nothing of responsibility who can't even take care of himself let alone another child. The sooner he's found the better.

You consider it for a moment. Logically, you really don't have a lot of options right now. You're stranded in a strange new place with no where to go while also trying to find your kid. You need all the help you can get.

Even if it's from a villian.

Looking up at the captain, you see his hand extended out expectedly. You stand up and shake his hand with a firm grip, he smiles with satisfaction.

He takes your arm under his and heads towards the door. Suggesting that you both start a search party.

---

You're getting restless. How long has it been, weeks? A month or two? Maybe longer? It's hard to say for certain.

Hook assisted you in your search for Jessie, as promised. In return, you tagged along with him during his pursuit to find Peter.

Both missions haven't been much of a success.

As you were starting to feel helpless, the captain was becoming relentless. You don't know how he does it. The whole time you've been stuck here, Hook didn't give up. Whether it's by sheer determination or just stubbornness, you can't tell.

Whatever it was that drove him, it made you hold onto what little hope you had left.

There are times he would push himself too much, you've noticed. He would skip meals and only get a couple hours of sleep. Or just wouldn't sleep at all.

Smee usually reminds Hook to eat or rest up, and he abides. But now.. it's like he's more hard-headed than normal. As a result, Hook snaps at his boatswain whenever the issue is brought up.

You haven't known him for too long, but you can tell he's stressed out. No matter how much he tries to mask it. You started feeling worried for the man, surprisingly.

One day, you stepped in for Smee despite his warnings. Hook resided in his quarters, hunched over the table and staring at the map once again. Puffing on his cigar holder in the soft candle light. A regular routine you learned.

The night was getting colder by the minute, you decided to bring him some tea. You doubt he'll actually eat anything you bring him, right now at least. So you're starting off with something more subtle.

Walking up to him, you gently place down the teacup on the table. He sighs in annoyance and turns with an irritated look. His expression eases up a little when he sees you instead of Smee.

You explain that you accidentally made too much and thought he might've wanted some. You didn't want it to go to waste.

He studies you for a moment, as if trying to spot something. But all he finds is the kind eyes and gentle smile you're giving him. He quickly looks away from you, putting out his cigars and grunts out a quiet "thanks".

You place a hand on his shoulder, making him tense up. You tell him to try to get some rest and bid him goodnight.

---

It became your new routine with him. On the nights Hook would stay up late, you made him a fresh cup of tea. Telling him goodnight with a hand on his shoulder. Later on, you started bringing him snacks such as biscuits or a small pastry.

You were glad to find out that he ate them everytime. Leaving an empty cup and a clean plate on the table in the morning.

You made a bold decision in bringing him dinner one night. Grilled salmon and fresh broccoli with a lemon slice on the side. A dish Smee put together himself. You replaced the tea with a glass of water this time.

You say goodnight to Hook, but he grabs your hand before you can walk away. His gaze avoids yours, he hesitates before asking you to sit with him. You kindly accept and he hastily gets up to pull out a chair for you. He returns to his seat once you sit down and thank him.

You both sit in a peaceful silence, you gaze out the window as he picks at his food. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his glances towards you. They were quick, but you still caught them.

He jolts a bit when you turn to him and ask how he's been. Hook stares at you, unsure of what to say. You.. want to know how he's doing? He says he's alright, supposedly. You ask if he's sleeping well.

Hook lets out a chuckle. Telling you his bed has seen better days, that's for sure. He looks at you surprised when you laugh softly, a small ounce of pride swells within him.

The two of you continue to talk for the next few hours. As the night progresses, Hook evidently becomes more comfortable. Cracking a joke or asking you a question. By then, his plate and glass are already empty.

---

You pass the cigar back to Hook, exhaling slowly. You normally don't smoke, just on occasion back home. But never around Jessie.

Home..Jessie.. that's right, the whole reason you're here. For a moment, it felt like you didn't have a worry in the world. But you remind yourself why you're here in the first place. And you're once again reminded that you still haven't found Jessie...

Hook asks how you've been, taking a notice in your changed demeanor. You give him a tired smile, saying you feel alright supposedly. He chuckles a little, but recognizes the state you're in.

A moment passes. He can't help but apologize to you, not knowing what else to say. You tell him there's nothing to be sorry for, this was your own fault really. You should've been more careful, more aware. And you could've sworn that damn window was locked.

Hook hums at that, saying he figured you were a member of the Darling family. You ask how does he know for sure. As you recall, you didn't mention your surname. He sits there with an amused grin, informing that you didn't need to tell him. He could already guess for himself.

He elaborates when you stare at him confused. Throughout his time on this island, he noticed Peter would take a brief "vacation". To London of all places, but not without reason. It started with Wendy and her brothers. Then her daughter Jane and so on.

Maybe it was because Peter missed an old friend from a time long gone, maybe he believed he could "find her" again. Either way, it kept him motivated to bring more of the Darlings to Neverland.

Hoping at least one would want to stay. Though none of them did. Not for too long, but the boy was persistent. He kept returning to the Darling house for years to come. Hook's met almost all of them at this point.

Expect for you. But seeing how kind-hearted and strong-willed you are, he instantly knew you were a Darling as well. Though he wonders why you're here now, he can't remember anytime when an adult came to Neverland. Let alone fly to Neverland.

You try to explain that you were.. cautious in your childhood. Not superstitious per say, just careful as a kid. The adventures about Peter and Neverland didn't grow on you, but instead made you paranoid. As a child, you always made sure every window and door in the house was locked. Checking three times or more.

You were afraid of the idea of being taken away by a stranger and never coming home. You guess that's why you both haven't met each other until now. Peter couldn't find his way in and get to you. Until he found Jessie.

Tears form in your eyes as the weight of your situation comes crashing down. You look away from the man in front of you, covering your face with your hand. The last thing you want is to be seen crying.

Hook leans over the table, gently taking your wrist and moving your hand. You stare at him as the tears fall down your cheeks. He takes a silk handkerchief in his hook and wipes your tears.

Hook speaks softly, telling you that he'll find them. He won't give up until he does, he promises you that. You have his word. Even if it takes him a lifetime, he won't give up until the search is done.

You don't know what to say. His words leave you speechless. No one's ever spoken to you with such.. devotion.

Devotion. Is that the word you're looking for?

You sigh as the tears subside, Hook wiping them away calms you a bit. You remove the handkerchief from his hook and thank him. He pauses and opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it after noticing your hand on his hook. He just realized he was still holding your wrist.

You both just stare at each other in silence. You smile at him warmly, slowly taking his hand into yours. With your other hand gently holding his hook.

His face turns a dark shade of red as he gulps loudly. His mouth quivers slightly, making his mustache twitch. Like the hands on a clock, you think in amusement.

Before you can say anything, he moves away from you to stand from his seat abruptly. He straightens himself and clears his throat. Avoiding your eyes once again, he says it's quite late and that you both should be in bed.

You bid him goodnight and he does the same before quickly walking off. Leaving you alone in your thoughts. You turn to look out the window and heave out a sigh.

The captain is.. not at all what you were expecting. He doesn't seem all that bad, just misguided. He's still helping you look for Jessie after all. And he hasn't threatened to kill you, so that's a plus.

You're main priority is to find Jessie and bring them home, that hasn't changed. But until then, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to get to know the "villain" of the story.

What's the worst that can happen?

[nanagoswife]

Noticing You, Noticing Me

Chapter Six

Summary: Reader and Obi-Wan begin the writing of the letters. Throughout the passing months, there's significant moments that neither of them forget...

W/C: 3.3k

Warnings: angst, mention of passed away parent

- - -

The first letter from Obi-Wan came in two days after he had left. At the time, you were walking with Anakin as he was in between meetings. He may have been the one who’d prefer managing the troops, but he could more than hold his own when it came to politics.

Anakin gave you a teasing smirk as the messenger handed you the letter. “Is it from your boyfriend?” he said while playfully nudging his shoulder into yours.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t keep yourself from smiling.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my… friend.”

Your brother looked at you disbelievingly. “I don’t think you can call someone just a ‘friend’ when you two nearly kissed. Twice.”

Shock filled you. Your eyes widened as you whipped your head to look at him.

“Oh yes. Did you really think Varlo would keep that a secret? Or Padmé?”

Embarrassment filled you. You weren’t surprised about Padmé. Her and Anakin were a couple. What confused you was Varlo telling Anakin about the night at the ball. He seemed like he didn’t care, so you thought he would keep quiet.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” you stammered.

It caused Anakin to laugh. “It’s fine, sis. I’m happy for you. Prince Kenobi is a good man. Besides, mom and dad seem to even like him.”

You felt your embarrassment change to happiness. “Really?”

“Really,” he said with a soft smile. “I’ll let you get to reading. I’m due for an appointment with Sir Fisto.”

The two of you said your goodbyes before you made your way to the gardens. You once thought that your spot on the bench under your favourite tree was special before, but not like now. Now it was where you and Obi-Wan had spent most of your time together. It was where he held your hand as he comforted you.

When you sat down, you wasted no time. As you read the first words, you smiled.

-

My darling,

I hope that your world at home has felt just that little bit brighter since those days as it has for me. Commander Cody has noticed a change in me, and I am proud to say I know why.

Despite this, I miss you as every second passes. As I promised, I will find a way to visit you again. The moment I know of a day, I will write you immediately to tell you. Who knows? Maybe I’ll know when I’ll be able to see you next in the next few weeks.

Anyways, my dear, I hope you are well and I wait in anticipation to see your first letter. The thought of hearing your thoughts again excites me. Especially if you have any stories from your villages left. I would be more than delighted to hear about the little younglings that vie for your attention.

May this find you well and that you haven’t forgotten me in these days. It would be truly heartbreaking if it were so.

Yours,

Obi-Wan Kenobi

-

You couldn’t get to your room fast enough. It was the only place that you could think of that had a quill and ink and, most of all, privacy. Elation filled you with each quick step you took.

The letter may not have been long, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he missed you just as you missed him. Not only that, but he wants to hear more stories. Perhaps you’ll send him a few. Or would that be too much?

In the end, it didn’t matter. If you knew him, he wouldn’t mind. He’d probably say he’d rather more than less.

So, you took your quill in hand for your reply. Starting off, after saying that you missed him as well and that you felt the same, about his remark about children being ‘younglings’. It was the most adorable thing in the world to you. You only wished that he had called them that when he was still here.

-

And that’s how it began. The two of you wrote each other every day. His letters would always arrive early in the day, and you would write a response just as quickly. This went on for five months.

Some were simply just the two of you conversing back and forth. Others… Well, others were most purely love letters. They were always mainly from Obi-Wan’s end. His way with words was a lot more elegant than yours. Yet he would always let you know that your insecurities were unfounded.

It was always sweet when he made sure that you weren’t being stupid or that you were doing something wrong. Most of all, he helped you through a new transition.

As the days went on, more and more people started paying attention to you. After all of these years, people were finally seeing the work you did for your kingdom. Hardly anyone was using you as a gateway to your brothers. They were truly coming to you!

When you had told Obi-Wan, he was so proud of you. He said how much you deserved the recognition. You had asked if it was his doing but he swore it wasn’t. He may have told a few people about you but he didn’t push them to learn more about what you do.

Padmé, other than Obi-Wan of course, was your biggest supporter. She would rave about how popular you were getting.

Yes, you may be getting popular. Some would say even more than your brothers. Though, a small part of you wished that you could go back to the way it was before. You wanted to go back to the days that only Obi-Wan noticed you.

You had confided in him one day about it. He had written in response: My darling, I understand how you feel. Unfortunately things like this will change. I do apologize if it were due to me, but just think. Maybe this will benefit you in the future. Just think, if you needed assistance in aiding a village or town, you have people who know what you do that would want to help. I hope that you realize how good this could be later on just as I do. If not, then there may be a way to get it closer to how it used to be. Either way, my dear, I hope this makes you feel better.

In truth, it had made you feel better. It made you look at the true benefits your newfound popularity had. Not only that, but it didn’t affect your life as much as you had thought at first. It was just new.

Now, one thing that happened a few times were days that you missed him. Those days it took over your thoughts to the point where you hardly left your room. It usually lasted for a few days and Obi-Wan was always there to talk you through it.

There was one string of days where both of you were in the same slump. Those were some of the deepest conversations you had ever had with each other. Whether it was saying how much the two of you cared for the other, or if you were telling each other about your darkest thoughts.

Obi-Wan had sent this one specific detail that had you simultaneously wishing you were with him and at least glad that he felt he could also confide in you. It was: Sometimes I think of my mother during days like this. I think of how I wish she were still here, to hear her say how happy she is that I found you. I do really believe that she would’ve loved you. And it’s days like this that I miss her the most. It’s days like this where I miss you. Days that I long for your gentle touch against my cheek. Wishing that I could hold you in my arms as we finally have the kiss that never happened. Honestly, darling, I exceedingly wish to be with you during these days and I wish I have found the time to come to you. But this time will still unfortunately have to wait to my dismay.

Forever yours,

Obi

Despite how strongly you agreed with Obi-Wan in that letter, you couldn’t help but feel a warm, bubbly sensation in his signature. You had started calling him Obi in your letters fairly early on. Other than that, him saying forever yours was something he had only recently started saying at the time. It made you smile each and every time.

For him to address himself by your nickname, though, made your heart flutter.

When you had written back, you consoled him when it came to his mother. From what you have told me, she sounds like an amazing woman. I would’ve loved her right back if we had the privilege to meet. As for being in your arms, I also deeply wish to be back there. Each ghosting touch and the feel of your hand in mine makes me yearn to feel it again. I yearn to fully feel the press of your lips to mine rather than a light graze or pressed against my knuckles. I will look forward to the day we meet again.

Your darling,

Y/N

Of those days, they weren’t the deepest of them all, but they were up there. After that, the dark spell of days was shared only ever briefly. Mainly switching between the both of you, each comforting the other as the longing to see the other grew with each passing day.

One day, he had written something that had you puzzled, yet feeling excited. The line was: We will see each other sooner than you know, my dear.

“Varlo, may I ask you something?”

He gave you a mischievous smirk, “I think that just was one.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you know if anyone is scheduled to visit in the next week?”

Varlo looked off in the distance as he thought. “Other than the people that now only want to talk to you, no. Not that I know of. Why?”

“No reason,” you said, looking back down at the letter. Could he have possibly found a time where he could come back? It would make sense as he didn’t truly tell you that. He probably wanted to make sure he actually could before telling you.

Either way, you wrote your normal reply. Adding in details about how this amazing festival in Naboo was happening in a few days. It was called the Festival of Light and it was something you had always attended. Whether it was because Padmé wanted you there or if you went on your own, it didn’t matter. Other than Anakin, you were usually the only one in your family to go.

You wished that Obi-Wan could see it. It was such a beautiful festival. Your favourite part was the first night where lanterns would be released in the sky. They all floated until they looked like stars themselves, lifting everyone’s dreams in hopes that they will be met.

It was wonderful. What a sight it was to see all of those lanterns become stars. You always had thought that Padmé’s father was a genius to start this tradition. The tradition was well received the minute it was introduced. Although it started before you were born, you had known it all your life. You attended it all your life. Now you wish you could attend it with the one you wished to be with all your life.

That would just have to wait.

-

“I thought you were supposed to be meeting with General Yoda?” you asked Anakin who had his arm linked with Padmé’s. She giggled as Anakin pretended to ponder what you said.

“I was supposed to. A more important matter came up though,” he said with a playful tone. His smirk was a mischievous one as he caught a glance at your friend.

Confusion filled you. What could be more important than a meeting with the high general? With the way he looked at Padmé, though, you assumed that may be the reason. Everyone knew he would drop everything for her.

Anakin looked over at you and you must not have been hiding your confusion as well as you thought you were. To the best of his ability, he nudged his elbow into your arm.

“What? Can I not just spend time with my little sis and my beautiful wife-to-be?”

You rolled your eyes as Padmé spoke, “You mean even more time than you do already?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was true. He was almost always with one of you or Varlo. If you tried to separate Anakin from the ones he loved, or at least tolerated, he would have a fit. He craved attention and companionship and you didn’t blame him. It was something that you never knew you needed until you met Obi-Wan.

“Ok, one question you can’t try and dodge, where are we going?”

“Well, you see, sis, that is another question I will dodge. You know why?” You shook your head. He leaned closer whispering, “It doesn’t matter.”

You groaned, slapping your hand against your forehead causing your friend to break into a fit of laughter. All you wanted to know was what he had planned. There had to be something if he no longer was meeting with General Yoda. No one just stood up the man either. Yoda may be a wise and calm man, but he could easily take you down any day. Whether that be physically or verbally.

“Why do you so badly want to know anyways?” Anakin asked. This time sounding genuinely interested.

“No one just reschedules with General Yoda. Especially not you so I’m curious as to the change of plans that involves both Padmé and I.”

Anakin actually seemed shocked by what you said. Almost as if he actually hadn’t thought of an answer to a statement like that. So, he was silent for a few moments. That was, before he finally came up with, “You’ll see.”

Now you were more confused than ever. Was he setting up something with Varlo? Was this all going to be a trick? It wouldn’t be the first and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Or maybe it was a new person that wanted to meet you.

Thanks to Obi-Wan’s words, you had grown used to constant meetings with people who wanted to ask you about what you do. There were some who asked what was going on between you and Obi-Wan, but those questions usually didn’t last.

You knew there were rumours that people thought the two of you were an item, which was true, but some were disconcerting. Some had thought that he was taking advantage of you for power gain. Others had painted your family in a dark light, saying that they were using you as a way to gain more allies rather than caring about you.

Thankfully, those rumours were rather rare to come across. Plus, Obi-Wan had always told you how they didn’t matter. The two of you found each other, and chose each other on your own. Not because of any outside influence or any ulterior motives.

Your thoughts were racing, unable to settle on one possible answer to what Anakin had planned. You would’ve said Padmé hadn’t known either, if it weren’t for her ultimate calmness. If she were as confused as you, she wouldn’t be as composed or… excited as she seemed to be.

Those racing thoughts were put on hold as your journey led you to the gardens. The sights never failed to put your mind at ease. Now was no exception.

Usually you would come here to read Obi-Wan’s letters. It was free of crowds, leaving you in privacy as you looked over the beautiful handwriting. For a time, you had even kept a satchel that held all of his letters in the garden. That didn’t last long as one day Varlo found them.

In his usual annoying ways, you had to fight to get them back. He teased you, positioning them out of reach until he was done with his entertainment. It was something he did often, lately. Teasing you or playing jokes that would often go too far. A small part of you wondered if it were because he was slowly taking up the role you once held. You hated to see that people no longer seemed interested in Varlo’s political accomplishments. Yet, he didn’t need to take it out on you.

So, the letters had found a different place. A place where Varlo couldn’t find them and hide them and a place that should’ve seemed like a no brainer from the start. Your bedroom.

Even so, the garden was where you would read them. Sometimes you would even write your letters on that bench under the tree.

As the three of you walked through, you listened to the conversation your brother and friend were having. They really were a cute couple, no matter how much you teased them. Listening to them talk only proved this.

The closer you got to the tree, the more you saw excitement grow in both of them even as they seemed to be normally conversing. Now you knew something was up. What kind of plan could Anakin come up with that got them so excited, but never tell you? You thought you were used to being a third wheel before, but this was amplified.

You let it go. It’s not like this was the first time something similar has happened. With that being said, you took a slight lead ahead of the two. A small part of you was hoping that, as soon as you got to the tree bench, you could stay there. That way you could feel close to Obi-Wan although you weren’t.

Continuing on your path, you noticed that Anakin and Padmé were drawing further and further back. Were you walking that quickly, or did they slow down without you realizing. With all of that considered, you just shrugged and kept going. If they wanted to catch up they would tell you.

There was one last corner to turn before you would finally be able to seek some peace.

When you turned the corner, you froze. Were you seeing right? Was this even possible? You turned to look at the other two, but they weren’t there. Was this what they were so excited about? It had to be. Why else would they now have up and disappeared right as you arrive here.

Obi-Wan stood from the bench, facing you with a smile that you could tell he was trying to contain. He still looked just as handsome as the day he had left. The outfit he was wearing was similar to the one he wore at the ball, but much more toned down and casual. Well, casual for royalty anyways.

Tears were building as you smiled bigger than you ever thought you could.

“Obi!” you exclaimed as you could no longer hold back. You ran to him, crashing into his outstretched arms. The feeling of them coming around your back and pulling you in close was enough to make you start sobbing.

“Hello there, darling,” he whispered into your hair. Gently he rubbed your back as he slowly swayed from side to side, refusing to let you go. Even if he did, you wouldn’t.

As you buried your face into his chest you smelled the hint of cinnamon that was mixed with just him.

“I missed you,” you mutter into his chest.

“I missed you too. With all of my being,” he said, making your heart flutter. There were days you never thought you would hear his beautiful voice ever again. You no longer had to worry about that. He was here, holding you as tightly as you were him.

- - -

@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @mackycat11 @generousrunawaydonut @imabeautifulbutterfly @animalgirl05 @blondekel77 @cosmicsierra @badbatch-simp24

[mitsungo]

We are already this far! And this has turned into more of an Akaza x reader story 🌸 I’m sorry Kyo— for now it’s just Akaza, patience, patience. Plz excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes! I’m on vacation right now and I have been adding to this when I get inspired! The next part will be the last part which I hope to finish by Sunday! Because we need closure! No cliffhangers! Not here! 🍡 Enjoy for now! Also time is like super super uh 😵‍💫 just stick with the plot okay! 😭

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ❄️ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Y/n was currently working on a kimono, the client was none other Kocho Shinobu, the insect hashira. It was daytime, so Akaza wasn’t able to be visit her, though he wish he could. He was currently down in the cellar of the mansion. Waiting for Y/n to signal him that sundown was already here. Shinobu was a very good friend of Y/n’s, and she personally would check up on her and the baby. Or babies, as Y/n would put it. Something in her told her that she were going to have twins. It was a gut feeling.

“Y/n, you really shouldn’t overwork yourself. Your body is turning very weak lately, I fear that you will fall ill if you continue working yourself too much.” Shinobu said to her one day when she came to check how Y/n was doing. “I won’t fall ill Shinobu-chan. Don’t worry so much, I’m a strong woman. I can handle this. Come now, sit down with me.” Y/n said softly, patting a spot next to her. Shinobu frowned slightly with concern. “Don’t be worried. Like I said, I am fine. Shine me a beautiful smile would you? I hate seeing a frown on your face! It disheartens me!” Y/n teased Shinobu, letting out a small giggle as Shinobu shaked her head with a smile.

It had passed around six months now, and y/n was getting sicker by the day. Her body was very frail and sickly, she couldn’t really walk around anymore either without help. Her aunt and uncle refused to leave her alone anymore but she would tell them that she needed to be alone sometimes. Senjuro and Shinjuro would come around and visit Y/n often, Senjuro more worried about Y/n’s health than anything else. Mitsuri and Shinobu would drop by too, especially Shinobu who would give Y/n medicine to help with her health and pain that she would have at times. Akaza on the other hand would visit rarely for personal reasons as he told y/n. She didn’t argue, as her energy didn’t allow her to do so. But when Akaza did visit, he would hold her and make sure she had water nearby and the medicine Shinobu gave her. Everyone, including Akaza agreed that y/n should not continue working on anymore kimonos or anything that requires work. Y/n also didn’t argue, since she was too tired to even try and everyone would notice it too.

“Y/n? Dear? You have a letter from Tanjiro-kun!” Her aunt said behind the door. Y/n immediately stopped reading the book she had in her hands. Her aunt slid open the door and gently put the letter down next to her futon. “You finished your tea already. I’ll go brew you some new tea for later.” She told y/n, picking up the tray and leaving the room quietly. Y/n smiled softly, grabbing the letter and opening it. Kamado Tanjiro, he was a very kind and gentle boy that Kyojuro had met during his hashira meeting and his last mission. Tanjiro had come by one day to deliver some last words from Kyojuro to y/n, which made her burst out into tears, then proceeding to grasp Tanjiro into a hug, causing the young boy to cry as well. Ever since that day, the both of them wrote frequently to one another, with y/n telling him about her pregnancy, wishing him luck on his missions and other things. Tanjiro would write about his missions, or his day, or how Zenitsu and inosuke missed her and how much he loved reading about how y/n and the babies were doing. Another point to y/n on how she knew she was going to have twins, when Tanjiro visited her one day during her early months of pregnancy, he assured her that she was having twins. Still, no one believed the two, though Zenitsu too assured her that she was pregnant with twins.

A few days later, Tanjiro and Nezuko had stopped by to pay a visit to Y/n. It had been around two weeks since they had last seen her, and Tanjiro was dying to speak to her. As Tanjiro and Nezuko walked to her residence, he couldn’t help but think about how much of a mother figure y/n was to him and Nezuko. She reminded him of his mother, her gentle and soft spoken nature caused him to think of his mother when y/n spoke or laughed. When she hugged him the first time they met, Tanjiro was left in a state of shock, the warmth was that of a mother, a loving and kind embrace. They both arrived in front of the mansion and immediately saw the gate open. It was Y/n’s aunt.

“Oh! Tanjiro-kun! Nezuko-chan! Good timing! I just brewed Y/n some tea! Come in! Come in my dears!” Her aunt waved, yanking Tanjiro and Nezuko in before they could even greet her. “Thank you very much Mrs. L/n!” “I told you to call me aunt! We are like family now! Don’t be shy dear!” Mrs. L/n giggled, putting a hand over her mouth, her eyes closed. “Ah yes sorry Mrs— erm auntie.” How much he missed visiting the L/n residence.

“She’s in her room! You know where it is darlings!” Aunt L/n said, before leaving to go get the tea. “Come on Nezuko, let’s go see Y/n!” Tanjiro grabbed Nezuko’s hand and they both quickly made their way to her room. “Y/n.” Nezuko softly said. “Yeah that’s right—!” The doors to y/n’s room slid open, interrupting Tanjiro. “Tanjiro. Nezuko. I’m so happy to see you both again.” Y/n smiled softly, her arms wrapping themselves around the siblings. Tanjiro’s eyes widened, “You can’t be up mother!” He quickly realized what he said, his face flushed red with embarrassment. Y/n laughed weakly, still hugging the two siblings.

After getting settled and drinking some tea, y/n pulled a small box out from her drawer. “I want to give you both something. As you both have been very kind to me, my family and my children.” Y/n said, pulling out two small handkerchiefs, one patterned like Tanjiro’s haori and the other like nezuko’s kimono. Y/n handed them to the two siblings, Tanjiro bowed his head, taking the piece of cloth and looking at it closely. It was a snowy mountain, it reminded him of his home, the snow, the trees, the grey sky. Y/n was taken by surprise when Tanjiro embraced her, tears falling from his eyes. “I’m—.” Tanjiro started but was cut off by y/n embracing him back tightly, Nezuko joining in, both children nuzzling themselves into Y/n’s hug. “You both, are one of the many greatest treasures blessed to me. I am so glad to have two wonderful children like you both.” Y/n said in between tears, Tanjiro looked up at her, a warm gentle smiling adoring her face as tears fell from her eyes. The two of them cried softly, Nezuko blinking in surprise at why her two favorite people were crying.

When Akaza arrived later that day, y/n was a bit shocked but she quickly welcomed him into her room. Akaza went to give her an embrace but he stopped midway. She smelt different, and it irritated him. Just who the hell was she seeing during the day? He had gotten familiar with a few scents, her aunt, her uncle, three friends that she refused to give the names of, but these two new scents were just unbearable, he had smelt one of them somewhere before, but he couldn’t remember from where. Y/n picked up on his new mood and looked down slightly, preferring not to say anything, as Akaza could easily get annoyed when he is in deep thought. Y/n sighed, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. Suddenly, a wave of pain hit her like a rock, she didn’t know what it was but it was almost as if it was a cramp. She let out a small gasp, covering her mouth quickly so Akaza couldn’t hear her, but Akaza had noticed and was already by her side.

“What’s wrong Y/n? What hurts? Tell me! Where is the medicine? Come on! It has to always be near you! You know this!” He cried, looking around for the medicine Shinobu had given to y/n for pain. “It’s in the cabinet. Top shelf.” Y/n replied, putting her hand on her stomach. As Akaza was looking for her medicine, she started to hum a tune, rubbing her stomach to soothe the babies down. “On wintery days, up on the snowy hills, a house not far from the village—.” A few small kicks from her stomach caused y/n to stop singing. She was surprised, her babies have never kicked once. Akaza froze immediately at how silent the room had become, he swiftly took the medicine and was by y/n’s side in less than a few seconds. “What happened?” He questioned, glancing back and forth at her and her stomach. “The babies, just kicked me.” Y/n answered, tears brimming from her eyes. Akaza was in shock, his eyes moved to look at y/n’s, she looked back at him, her eyes now sparkling like the stars. “Akaza-kun, I want you to know something.” Y/n started, picking up his hand and moving it towards her stomach, placing it on top. “I might die, giving birth to the babies. But it is worth my own life, as any other mother would do the same for their children. These babies, will have a life worth living, they will be able to experience what it is to grow, to love and to cry. Even though, their parents won’t be around.” Akaza’s eyes widened at her words, how could she calmly say such things? Does she not fear death? Why is that? How is that possible? No, he could not let her die, not when she had children to live for. “You can not die. You must not die!” He cried, gripping her hands tightly, causing her to flinch and look at him with surprise. “These children, can not live without a parent! They need you! Their mother! Their mother is most important person in the world! That is why you can not die! Their fathers may not be alive when they are born and when they grow up! But they will have you! And you will tell them all about their fathers, their lives and their wills! So you have to promise me….” He paused, staring intently into y/n’s eyes, who’s eyes have started to spill more tears. “…you have to promise me that you will live! For you! And for our children!” Akaza yanked y/n into a kiss, he could not be able to cry one single tear, as much as he wished he could, but y/n knew this, as she was crying much more now. “I will have to leave you. This is my last visit. I only wish. We could have spent much more time together. If only then…if only, no, this is how it must be. I’m sorry. I—.” The words wouldn’t come out of his mouth, he couldn’t say it, he didn’t have the courage to do so. Y/n gently gripped his hands, bringing them up to her heart. Akaza stared in awe, as y/n’s tears finally stopped.

Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn’t they just be together a bit more? Was it too much to ask for? He was going to be a father, after all these years, and yet he had to leave it all behind. His little affair with Y/n, his own child, his love, his kindness, his warmth, it would be all gone. All of this happiness will disappear after he leaves, after he steps foot out of her mansion, the final battle was approaching, and y/n knew it too. Why was the world like this? No, he had a role to fulfill, he must continue fighting, no matter the cost. Akaza was a demon, he ate and murdered humans. He was a monster, a very strong monster too, yet this woman who someone managed to entangle with his emotions, caused him to see beauty in the world just for a little bit. The woman who’s fiancé he had killed with his own hands, he took her only happiness away and still she found new happiness with him. And now, with twins on the way, she would be happy even more. How beautiful. Akaza felt himself stand up with y/n by his side, going near the window in the room, they stood in front of it, hands intertwined together. She kissed the knuckles of his hands, and opened her mouth,

“You are one of the most understanding, kind, respectful and wonderful persons I have ever met in my life. I am thankful for having such a sweet person with me for this long. I owe you so much Akaza-kun. So please take care of yourself.” She reached her hand out towards his cheeks, his eyes widening with confusion, her smile, was the most genuine he had ever seen on a person throughout his entire life as a demon. “Fight with honor, and do the best you have ever done in your entire life, as this is the last blessing I will give you…” Y/n’s hands fell to her sides, her eyes glimmering with passion and determination. He knew this was it, this was their last day together. As he jumped from her window, into the garden, and onto the fence. He looked back one more time to see her, just to see her before he left for good, his heart aching as he heard her words slip from her mouth.

“Akaza-kun. I love you too.”

[celestialevie]

Flower Boy // George Weasley x GN! Reader

Summary: AU where y/n is working at the tattoo shop, while their best friend is an owner of a flower shop. What happenes when expecting to see your best friend for lunch, you end up meeting a tall ginger man. Warnings: fluff, mention of food, tattoos, flowers, George being absolute charmer Word count: 1.7k a/n: enjoy this aboslute fluff of a fic!! and again, english is not my first language so if there are any mistakes please do not hestitate to let me know about it!! ' Evangeline ' is an oc of mine, so she might appear in some of my fics as a side charachter. Also credit to @bwbatta for the dividers!!

Being a tattoo artist was one of the things you were proudest of. It wasn't easy to become one after neglecting art for so many years during High School. But after your best friend opened her own flower shop, she helped you get your inspiration for art being constantly surrounded by flowers and stories of why people were getting flowers. You were happy with everything but not knowing that wasn't the end of your happiness. It all started when you were on your lunch break and decided to swing by your best friend's flower shop to visit her. Expecting to see a small blonde girl behind the counter, you were shocked to see a tall ginger man standing there instead. '' Hello, how can I help you today? '' When ginger looked up, he felt as if someone kicked all of the air from his lungs because before him stood a beautiful person with y/h/c hair and y/e/c eyes. Smiling at them as they approached the counter, they were even more beautiful up close. '' Hi, um I'm looking for Evangeline? I didn't know she hired someone new. '' Ginger laughed, nodding his head. '' Ah yes, I'm only here temporarily. Unfortunately, you just missed her, she left to go on a lunch break with my uglier twin. '' You only laughed at that. '' Too bad, but can you please let her know that y/n looked for her? '' He nodded. '' I'll let her know. I'm George by the way. If you ever wanna ask her for me. '' George wiggled his eyebrows, making you shook your head. '' It was nice meeting you, but I have to go now. Please don't break any of her flowers she's not afraid to commit murder if you break something in her shop. '' his eyes widen, making you laugh as you were leaving but his voice stopped you. '' Hey! You come here often? '' he asks '' Considering I use to work here and my best friend owns it, yes. '' and with that, you left the shop, heading back to your workplace.

As the clock turned changed time to 8 pm, you relaxed finally going home after a stressful day. Just as you were open the door, Evangeline barged in. '' Hello, heard you've been looking for me. '' She grinned at her best friend, attacking them with a hug. '' Hello to you too,'' you said returning the hug '' I see the tall ginger you failed to mention to me kept his word. '' smirk appearing in the corner of your mouth as you recall your encounter with him from earlier today. '' It seemed to me you left a trance on Georgie boy. '' Evangeline wiggled her eyebrows, making you laugh '' You can't do that to me, I wanted to have lunch with my best friend only to find she ditched me for and I quote the ginger man '' uglier twin '', leaving me to get almost a heart attack. For a second I thought I walked into a wrong shop. '' Both of you walked out of the shop, heading towards your apartment. '' Speaking of that date, you also failed to mention you were dating someone, and here I thought we tell each other everything, tsk tsk. I'm disappointed. '' you nudged her, blush creeping on her cheeks. '' Oh my god are you blushing? He's making you blush just by thinking of him? You need to tell me about him. '' and so she did. She told you how his name is Fred and along with his twin, he has 6 siblings, making both of them the middle children. It was very interesting to know about a man who took an interest in my best friend. Deciding she'll spend the night at yours, you both got cosy into pyjamas and watched movies until you both crashed. The next morning you went together to work, letting you know she'll come to your work for the lunch break. So when your lunch break came, you didn't expect her to walk in with the same ginger man from yesterday. '' y/n/n, I brought us a bodyguard to keep us safe during our lunch break. '' grin played on her lips, making you shake your head. '' Yeah because we're so in danger that someone is gonna try and kill us while eating Taco Bell. '' George snorted, making you look at him. He looked even cuter than yesterday if that's even possible. Maybe there was something in gingers that you'd yet to discover that makes them so attractive. '' So flower boy, what do you do when you're not being a bodyguard or taking care of Evie's flower shop. '' he was grinning at the nickname. '' I own a joke shop with my brother, but we're currently redecorating inside so we had to close it for a week or two. '' An attractive businessman, that's a first one you snorted to yourself. Spending an hour with two of them, turned into a mostly back and forth conversation between George and you. Soon Evie had to leave, her lunch break coming to an end. To your surprise, George asked you if he could stay for a bit longer, which you said yes to since you had no client for another hour. He asked you about your art style, which, according to George made your eyes sparkle up with happiness, making him chuckle when you started to ramble not even noticing. '' You're rambling. '' he chuckled making you blush a little. '' Sorry, sometimes I can get carried away without even noticing. '' George smiled, taking your hand in his, making you look at him. '' Don't apologise, it's adorable. '' blushing even harder, you looked at the clock making you realise that in 15 minutes your client should be coming. '' Oh shit I didn't even realise how much time has passed already, I have to prepare for the next client. But hey if you ever want a tattoo you know where to come. '' You said and with that, you disappeared somewhere behind in the storage, kind of hiding from flower boy, because he's starting to make you feel things you haven't felt before.

Everything was happening so fast, in the next few days he kept coming either alone or in a company of Evangeline. She knew what she was doing and she was enjoying it. You even got to meet Fred, him wanting to meet the fascinating best friend of his girlfriend and the person who his brother can't seem to stop talking about. So when George asked you out, you said yes having nothing to lose. Deciding on a picnic, both of you packed some food, and he picked you up after work, leading you to a park. He prepared a blanket and put down the baskets where food and drinks were, sitting down and relaxing. '' How was your day? '' you began the conversation. '' It was good, mostly spent the entire day thinking of what to bring for our date tonight. '' a smile appeared on his face. '' How was yours? Any interesting tattoos you did? '' so you told him about this older guy who had half of his back tattooed with some weird game character, which made him laugh. Looking up at the sky, it looked amazing. '' Isn't the view beautiful? '' a grin played on your lips as you looked at the stars. George was only looking at you, and how beautiful you looked under the stars. If he wasn't already falling, he definitely would've now. '' Yeah, it couldn't be more beautiful. '' you looked at him and he was looking at you. '' Stop looking at me like that! '' He grinned at you, placing a hand on your cheek. '' Like what? '' he said softly while looking you in the eyes. '' L-like I've placed all the stars in the sky as if I'm the most unique thing on this planet. '' you were avoiding his eyes, knowing you wouldn't be able to breathe if you do. George had other plans, because he softly placed finger under your chin, making you look up at him. His eyes were filled with so much adoration, making you get lost in them. '' I've been looking at you like that ever since we first met, darling. I've grown quite fond of you from the first time our eyes met. '' a smile was spread on both of your lips '' God how much I love seeing you smile. I like you so much, love. '' placing your hands on both of his cheeks '' Can I tell you something? '' you said quietly almost a whisper. '' You can tell me anything. '' ''I like you too flower boy. '' even bigger smile was on his lips. '' Could you say it again? '' you furrowed your eyebrows. '' Were you not listening? '' he shook his head. ' No, I was, I just like the sound of your voice. '' you shook your head at his goofiness. '' Can you kiss me? '' a grin appeared on his lips '' Thought you'd never ask. '' and with that, he placed his soft lips on top of yours, lips mending with each other. It was like fireworks exploded inside you, from how much happiness you felt in this moment. Everything was perfect.

The next day you decided to visit Evangeline in the shop, expecting to see I guy you've grown s much fond of. And there he was stood with Fred and Evangeline, his beautiful smile playing on his lips. '' Hello, hope I'm not interrupting a big secret meeting. '' you joked as you approached them. George pulled you in his embrace, placing a small kiss on your temple as he sneaked an arm around your shoulder. '' Of course not love. '' you smiled at him, starting a conversation with him, not noticing how Fred and Evangeline were looking at the two of you. '' I haven't seen her smile like that in ages. '' Evie said, '' Hey flower boy, '' Fred began only to be shot by a dirty look by you. '' Hey, only I can call him that,'' you said and with that making everyone laugh including yourself. This is the happiest you've been in forever, and you could only hope it could stay like this forever.

[lordabovehelpme]

Every day and every night- Din Djarin x Reader

Request: Heyy Lordy I was wondering what’s Din and Y/N’s night routine is. Like how do they put each of the kids to bed and do they sit and talk by the fireplace after or go to bed or blah blah blah😘❤️- @jedi-jesi

A/n: Hello my dear!!!! This is such a cute idea!!! I hope you like it. Muah xx

This is the next chapter to my Days filled with love series. You can find the first part here! :) 

Warnings: children, mature themes!!! 

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Your routine starts at dinner. Myles and Din walk in from where they were training outside. Your son rushing to sit down at the table while his father gives you a kiss. Dinner is loud, but you love every second of it. Laughs and giggles erupt from the children as they dig into the food and the loving glances your husband sends you from where he sits beside you. After a while his hand will find purchase on your knee, never straying from it’s spot.

As the plates start to become less full of food, the children will ask Din for a story. Sometimes they are about his childhood before pledging to the creed, sometimes they are about his time in the covert, and other times they are about you. The children watch him with opened eyes and wide smiles. They ooh and ahh when appropriate, but also understand when the stories become sad. Your husband's voice will stay steady but his eyes fill with sorrow, the hand on your knee squeezes and sometimes he’ll bring your own hand to his mouth to press a slow kiss to the back.

After everyone has finished eating, Myles and Reeza will grab the plates and pots on the table and walk them to the kitchen. Grogu follows behind them, trying to help with the smaller items. The twins start to become restless, knowing they are about to be put to bed in a few hours.

The three eldest children will rush outside to catch the final few hours of light. Their laughs and screams echo through the meadow and into the house. You walk to the kitchen and start to put dinner away and clean the plates. Humming a tune you grab your sponge and start to fill the dishwasher. Hands find your hips and his own press up against you. His moustache and stubble tickle your neck as he presses kisses to it.

Giggling you lean into him. “If you’re going to be here, make yourself useful and dry those bowls.” When he doesn’t make any sign of stopping, you stop your hands and turn around in his hold. Pouting, you stick out your bottom lip. “Please?”

His eyes scan over your face and a faint smile rests on his features. Leaning in he sucks your protruded lip before grumbling something about how the kids should be doing this.

Finally after everything has been put away and the kitchen is back to its normal state, you grab Tobbi and Isabet and walk outside. You and Din snuggle together on the porch and watch as the twins wave their little arms in your laps. Myles, Reeza, and Grogu scream as they run around playing some game.

Tobbi will pull at your shirt and you smile, knowing that hungry gleam in his eyes. The mandalorian will happily watch as you either bare your breast for his children or rush to the kitchen to grab the bottles of milk you desire. He’ll hold and keep one twin entertained while you care for the other, only to switch when they need to be burped.

This has become one of your favorite moments. How peaceful your husband looks holding your children. His faint smile and the lines that form on the sides of his eyes, that dimple that you just want to kiss and kiss. The way the muscles in his forearm twitch, promising to keep whoever is in them safe.

But when he meets your eyes, when those beautiful brown eyes meet your own, your entire body fills with warmth. You can feel the sparks and tingles of his love when his eyes trail over your form. It’s hard to not smile, to not succumb to those plump lips, to resist his passion for even a second.

That’s the beauty of marriage, you don’t have to resist these powerful desires. You both lean in and press against one another. It’s not fast or rough, but slow and never ending. You’ll love another until you’re beckoned from one of your offspring.

“Mom stop kissing Dad and watch us!” You giggle and press one more kiss to him. Smiling wider when you pull away and he chases your lips, eyes still shut.

“Alright, I’m watching.”

“I’m watching too.” He pulls the baby in his arms closer, trying to fight his grumpiness.

After the sun sets you call the three children back to the house and remind them that their muddy shoes are to be left outside. They all say “I know” and grumble but that doesn’t stop you from pressing a kiss to the top of their heads.

“Run along and go get ready for bed.” Ushering them into the house you smile as they rush up the stairs. You can hear the faint trickle of water as the shower is turned on and the faint yells of “I want to shower first.” and “No, you take all the hot water.” Shaking your head you grab your husband's hand and lead him inside.

The two of you walk to the nursery and start to calm the twins down. You coo and snuggle the children, murmuring how much you love them. It warms your heart every time, every time they try to fight their sleep. Their little eyelids flutter as they try to stay open.

“Mama.” Isabet will reach out for you, whether she’s in your arms, or even your husbands. The mandalorian will frown at the way his daughter's hands will open and close as she tries to squirm from his hold.

“I’m right here baby.” Walking over you’ll cup one of her chubby cheeks. She’ll smile and finally her eyes will close. “Goodnight sweetheart.” She’s out like a light.

“Why am I not enough for her?”

You take her from his arms and softly place her in her crib. “It’s not that you’re not enough, it’s just that in this stage she needs more of her mothers touch.” You turn your attention to where Tobbi peers up at you from his crib, his little feet kick and he smiles. “Hello little man.” Picking him up, you start to rock back and forth.

His hands attach to the sides of your hips, his mouth presses a kiss to your neck. “I need a mothers touch…” another nip to your skin, “and it seems that there is one right here.”

Giggling, you shimmy out of his hold. “Your father is being irritating.”

“I think persistent.”

“Insatiable.”

Tobbi, having no idea what is going on, just laughs and pats at your cheeks. You tickle his belly and his eyes close, nuzzling further into your embrace. Din walks over and presses a kiss to his son's head, softly caressing the mop of brown curly hair.

The soft breaths of both twins fill the room. Setting Tobbi down in his crib you press a kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight my love. Sweet dreams.”

Both you and the mandalorian silently walk out the door, but you can’t but to peek back in. “Come on cyare. They’ll be okay.”

Nodding, you close the door and walk to your room, your husband not far behind you. He pats at your bottom and you smile over your shoulder. “Stop that.”

He grabs a clean towel from the laundry room and playfully wacks you with it. “Go take your shower and stop harassing me.” He nips your cheek and gives one more squeeze to your butt before leaving.

Once again, you shake your head at his antics, settling down onto the bed. But a mother of five never truly gets a moment alone. “Mommy!” Reeza rushes in and climbs onto the bed, falling into your arms.

You press kiss after kiss to her face and she squirms. “Where are your brothers?”

“Umm, I don’t know.” As you go to question her further, both boys walk through the door. “If you give me five credits I’ll tell you where they are.”

She giggles as you kiss at her again. “You rascal!” You start to tickle her.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, mercy!”

After a couple more tickles, you stop and press one final kiss to her temple. Myles and Grogu crawl up onto the bed and snuggle in next to you. Wrapping a fuzzy blanket around all of you, you share stories as you wait for your husband.

The bathroom door opens and out walks your husband. He rubs his head with that fluffy white towel, biceps bulging. Those cursed grey sweatpants that make your heart stop. He smiles as he walks over. “What are you three doing?”

“We’re snuggling with mommy.” Reeza informs him.

“More like you’re stealing my wife from me.” His large hands pull away the blanket and he drapes himself over you all.

“Daddy stop! You’re heavy!” Reeza pushes your husband off of her and he chuckles.

“Move over then and share your mother.” He moves between your legs and rests his head on your chest. His arms drap over the children and pull them close, effectively keeping everyone in the room within his hold.

The five of you talk and talk until they start to tire one by one. Gorgu’s small snores echo as Reeza tries to keep her eyes open. Even as they get older, they are still your small babies.

“Time to go to bed, hum?” Pressing a kiss to Myles head, he smiles and nods.

Your husband rises and takes Reeza into one arm and Grogu into the other, both of them fast asleep. He nods at Myles, “Say goodnight.”

Myles wraps his arms around your neck and you pull him closer. “Goodnight Mom.”

“Mm, goodnight. I love you.”

He leans away from you and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Love you too.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You watch as your husband carries two kids and the third follows behind him.

After a few minutes he comes back to you, jumping on the bed and into your arms. Kiss after kiss is pressed to your skin. “Now I have you all to myself.”

You gasp when he bites hard onto your neck. “Stop, I need to go brush my teeth.” Wiggling from beneath his frame you escape to the bathroom. He follows closely behind you and sits on the toilet, happily watching you as you go through your routine. Every now and then you’ll make eye contact through the mirror.

“You’re so beautiful.” He reaches out and pinches at your hip.

“Ank yu.” You smile as toothpaste foams at your lips, toothbrush sticking out of your mouth.

He chuckles. Once you spit and get all of the paste out of your mouth he pulls you towards him. Turning you around so you face him, he presses the side of his head against your stomach. His arms reach around your hips and keep you against him.

Your fingers comb through his soft curls. “I love you.”

He lifts your shirt and presses a firm kiss right above your navel. “Love you too.”

Once in your jammies and your husband in his boxers, the two of you lay under the security of the covers. His hands run up the length of your thigh and his lips press against the skin between your two mounds. He always tells you it’s his favorite spot on your body. He loves how soft and sensitive your skin is there and how it smells so much like you. No faint smell of soap or laundry detergent, just purely you.

It’s how he calms himself down; overwhelming his senses with you. His hands pulling at your skin as you writhe below him. Soft gasps and groans fall from your lips from the pleasure he pulls from you. He moves against you with meticulous and strong thrusts. Your mouths dance together with passion and lust.

Once the two of you calm down, he rests his head in its spot on your sternum. His arms wrap around your waist, keeping you close. Your fingers trace along his features, eyes closed and mind still fuzzy from your visit to cloud nine.

That’s how you fall asleep. Sometimes he stays connected to you, sometimes you beg him to get up because you have to pee. But you always fall asleep in his arms. Faint whispers of love and adoration. Right there, perfectly slotted into his embrace.

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Next part: Save the Day

I hope you all liked this chapter! Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment!!! Y’all’s comments really make my day. 

Love you guys, Lordy :) 

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Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi @coldlilheart @remmysbounty​ 

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[yn-dreamlife]

For them

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Angst, death, character death, reader death, no happy ending

A/N: I've finally completely read the Harry Potter series despite having watched and loved them my whole life. Fred Weasley has and always will be one of my favorite characters who brings me great comfort. Upon reading his death this is what I came up with immediately, I've had horrible writers' block for about a week so I guess enjoy it despite the fact it is so depressing.

A/N 2.0: It just deleted half of what I wrote so I cant promise that this re-write I'll be posting will be as sad as it would have been but here you go still

She could barely stand, the pain from her abdomen seemingly nothing compared to the pain of her heart now. There was no way, this can't be true. But as she staggered forward slowly on buckling knees she knew it was. Fred, her Freddie laid before her, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

She couldn't hear the calls from the two other gingers close to Fred. Percy was begging, begging her to understand he hadn't meant it, that he hadn't meant to distract Fred, that he would never want his brother to be killed because he had made a mistake. Ron was trying to pull her away as the corridor they were now in was being assaulted by giant spiders.

She no longer knew what was happening, nothing around her mattered except for the man in front of her, the man who laid before her already gone. She stumbled towards him her knees finally giving way as she collapsed to the floor beside the man she loved.

Her trembling hand reached toward her fiance her crimson-covered fingers brushing his cheek as if to rouse him, "w-wake up Freddie," she whimpered as tears burned down her skin. "I-it's... you-you have t-to get... get up now." It had to have been a prank, he had to have just been trying to have a laugh with her.

But deep down, she knew. A woman was screaming, she could not process that it was her own. "Please, please get up Fred- I-I can't... I can't do this on my own. I need you!" But her calls went unanswered, Fred remained lying on the floor unmoving.

Her mind was swimming with thoughts, thoughts of what she would never get, thoughts of her and Fred getting married. Images of Fred holding his own set of twins- their set of twins. Imaged of her working at the shop as their children played behind the counter. Images of just her, Freddie, and two cups of tea for company on the roof of the shop as they watched the sunrise.

But those thoughts and images were being taken from her, rapidly disappearing into the darkness as others swam forth. Her, George, and Lee mourning Fred, thoughts of late nights up sitting in the bathroom and hand clutched to her mouth and the other to her abdomen as she held in the sobs so as to not wake anyone else. And just as her dreams and hopes for a future were becoming drowned in darkness so was her world, the fight, the battle she was still a part of was fading.

She looked down at her abdomen, there was so much blood- too much blood. She wouldn't be able to heal this, no one would be able to heal this in time. She could feel herself growing weaker as she laid beside her fiance in the small nook where a suit of arms had been.

She barely remembers brushing away Percy, Ron, Harry, and Hermione telling them to continue fighting. She barely remembers Harry and Percy bringing Freds' body here to keep it safe.

But as she laid her head down on the familiar chest he could convince herself for a moment she wasn't dying. If she squinted the corridor long since destroyed around her became their bedroom. the crimson-covered stones she laid in where the crimson sheets of their bed, and the explosions of battle- long since muffled to her where the still-beating heartbeat of Fred.

There was a part of her that was happy, a part that was happy she wouldn't have to live a life filled with the agony she had experienced within the few minutes of knowing her fiance was dead. A part of her that was happy she would get to be with Fred in life after death, that they would be together in a world with no pain.

But another part of her was scared, a part of her was frightened and a part of her- the biggest part of her was mourning what she would leave behind.

She was leaving George and Lee alone in their grief, Lee who was one of her best friends, and George who she had spent every holiday with since they were eleven years old. Would they hate her for leaving them too? Would they know how much she missed them even now? Would they forgive her?

All she could do was hope that they would, and hope that she would not see anyone else she loved for a very long time because if she would that would mean they too had died- a thought which she couldn't handle.

As her eyes closed for a final time, her own smile ghosting on her lips she uttered her last words, "I'm coming, Freddie."

___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Y/n Y/l/n died in the arms of the man she loved, she died what could have appeared a peaceful death in her sleep had it not been for the deep claw marks through her stomach.

George remembered perfectly what he had seen, the image of his best friend and twin brother lying dead yet still embracing each other engraved in his brain. The image that plagued him whenever he tried to cast his patronus charm, the image that would haunt his every nightmare.

But George Weasley continued to live, he continued to love, and most importantly he continued to laugh. Because although half of their group was gone Lee and him refused to let their spirits die. Although yes it hurt, and some days were hard George continued to laugh for his brother- for his other half. George continued to laugh for his best firend- for the girl who had been with him since he was eleven.

George could still remember how he felt the very day he found out. The way the sobs racked his very soul and how he could barely breathe. The feeling of relief when he saw Ron and realized he had only lost one brother, the feeling of anguish that that brother had been George. He remembers holding his mother as she begged for Fred to be joking saying how she would never make him dress up for anything again if he just got up.

But he didn't stir, he didn't pop up with a wide grin and proclaim that they all looked like blubbering babies. There was no bright giggle that emanated from his side as you to popped up and made a witty remark about how it would take more to kill you. No, instead the only sound that was heard was the sound of his own anguished cries.

George and Lee had lost half of their group, when thoughts like that come to George he can't help but think of Remus Lupin. But he wasn't Remus Lupin, he had only lost two of his friends while he had thought he lost three. In this regard, he was thankful that he only lose Fred and y/n, but that wasn't true, was it? Others had died, others like Remus Lupin and his wife Tonks, something he thought of often and that pained him too.

But now as he looked down at the gravestones of his two best friends there was the smallest smile on his lips. Because he knew somewhere out there they were together and they were happy. He knew that somewhere out there those two were swapping stories with the three greatest pranksters at Hogwarts. And, he knew that someday he would get to join them but not for a very long time because he had to continue on, he had to live... for them.