#like . how can someone be so miserable n unkind n mean to the people around him??? as if they aren't deserving of respect... it boggles me

[monstermp3]

.

[specialagentsergio]

baby kiss it better

summary: When D.C. implements a lockdown order, you and Spencer decide to quarantine together. There’s just one problem—he’s working from home, and his coworkers don’t know about you.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: a few swear words, but otherwise it’s just fluff

a/n: ahh, the secret partner trope. how i love it. this is set in 2020, but with the season 5 cast! i was feeling particularly self-indulgent, so i made reader a night shift worker. this is for you, fellow night owls. stay safe out there everyone, and wear a mask!

a/n 2: i don’t actually know what a doctor or physical therapist would recommend for spencer’s knee injury. this is just going on my basic understanding of anatomy (i took a class in it this fall!) and what i've seen on grey’s anatomy lol.

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

Spencer tries not to grimace as he shifts in his chair. Working from home during the lockdown had initially seemed like it came at a great time, starting just a month after his knee injury. Sure, he wasn’t thrilled about having to do almost everything digitally, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about being mobile.

Unfortunately, that had turned out to be a downside. Tethered to his seat by headphones, he hasn’t been able to get up and stretch his leg properly, and as a result, is experiencing more pain.

It’s only 8:30, but he can already feel it flaring up. It’s been happening earlier every day, likely due to the existing irritation from the day before. Today is Thursday, and he’s miserable—he dreads to think of what tomorrow will be like.

He’s wondering if there’s some way he could get out of work tomorrow when he hears the sound of the front door being unlocked. He looks up to see you pushing the door open with your shoulder, carrying far too many grocery bags than is reasonable.

“Be careful!” he exclaims, watching as you teeter to the side a little. You just wave him off and close the door with your heel.

Working from home may not have been the positive he was expecting it to be, but you’ve more than made up for it. The two of you had decided to quarantine together, and he’s really loved having you around. Granted, you’ve only been here since Sunday, but he’s starting to think that this is going to end with him asking you to move in with him for good.

He hears a thunk as you dump all the groceries on the kitchen table. Then you’re back in the living room, taking off your mask as you walk by so you can blow him a kiss. He presses his knuckles to his mouth to hide his smile.

Usually you give him a proper cheek or forehead kiss when you get home, but the team doesn’t know about you yet. It’s not that he’s necessarily keeping you a secret, he just... likes having you to himself, and he doesn’t really want it to change just yet.

He’s also not looking forward to the pitch Garcia’s voice is going to hit when she finds out he’s been dating someone for over a year without telling her.

“Are you listening, Reid?” Hotch’s voice makes Spencer focus back in on the screen.

“Oh, y-yeah. Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking that this choice of rope to bind the victims is interesting.” He doles out a few facts about it, which seems to do an adequate job of convincing everyone that he’s paying attention.

They take a break when the main briefing is over—Jack needs something from Hotch and Sergio has apparently knocked something breakable off of Emily’s kitchen counter. He slides his headphones off and mutes his mic. Apparently that’s a cue you’ve been waiting for, because only a few moments later you’re placing a mug of tea on his desk.

“Green tea,” you say. “Might help reduce the inflammation in your knee.” Then you’re lifting his foot off the small stool it’s resting on and sliding another pillow under it so his leg is more elevated.

“Wh—“ he starts, but you’re already hurrying back into the kitchen. You come back with a baggie of ice wrapped in a dishtowel in your hands, which you place it gently on top of his knee.

“Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off,” you say. “Then repeat with heat instead, like your physical therapist said. I’ll get the heating pad from the bedroom.”

“Hey, wait.” Spencer snags your wrists before you can walk away again. “How’d you know it was hurting?”

“Oh, I always know,” you reply. “You should have realized that by now.”

He thinks on that as you leave to get the heating pad, sipping his tea. You do always seem to just know, whether he’s in physical pain, a bad case is bothering him, or even if he’s just in a bad mood and doesn’t know why himself.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t feel incredibly lucky to have you in his life.

“I’m leaving it by this outlet behind you. Have you been doing your stretches?”

He bites his lip, hesitating because he knows you won’t like the answer. But he doesn’t have to say it; you can tell from his expression.

“Spencer. You know you need to be doing them.”

“I know, I do,” he insists. “I just... can’t really get up and do them with these headphones.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Okay, so take them off. Your laptop has speakers.”

“But I don’t want to disturb you,” he protests. Since you work the night shift, you sleep during the day, usually heading to bed around 11 AM. He doesn’t want the noise from the Zoom calls to keep you up. Much like the bullpen in the FBI building, the calls can get rowdy.

“You won’t,” you assure. “I’ll just shut the bedroom door.”

“I guess that works,” he relents. “But I feel weird getting up and stretching in front of everyone. Like, wouldn’t that be disruptive?”

You sigh. “Spencer, I understand it’ll make you self-conscious, but you want full mobility in your knee again, right?”

“Yeah, I do, I get it,” he says sullenly, looking down into his mug. “I need to do the stretches if I want it to heal well.”

“Hey.” You take one of his hands and squeeze it. “I’m not trying to annoy you. I just want you to get better and be in less pain. I don’t like to see you hurting.”

“You’re not annoying me. I guess I’m just... not really used to being taken care of,” he admits quietly.

“Well, I’m gonna fix that.”

The confidence in your voice makes him unable to hold back a smile. “Alright.”

You smile back. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Spencer’s about to tell you that you’ve done plenty when an idea strikes him. He tilts his head to the side. “Well, there is something.”

“Yes?”

“There’s some research—nothing too substantial, but still some—that says kisses can help relieve pain,” he says.

You laugh, but it’s not unkind. “Oh, so you want me to kiss it better?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, glancing away shyly.

“Okay, then.” You tuck his hair behind his ear and press a kiss to his forehead. “Better?” you ask softly.

He hums. “Better.”

“Good.” You stand back up and stretch. “Well, I’ll be awake for a few more hours, so let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Spencer puts his headphones back on—he wants to wait to unplug them until you go to bed to spare you from hearing anything gruesome—and looks back at the screen to find Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Garcia staring him down. Rather hesitantly, he unmutes his mic and asks, “What?”

Emily is grinning—she looks the more awake than she has all morning. “Is there anything you wanna tell us?” she asks.

“Yeah, Spence,” JJ chimes in, “any new developments in your life?”

“I don’t—” he starts, then it hits him like a truck. He remembered to mute his mic, but the camera was still on. Clearly, they all saw you kiss his forehead. He barely stops himself from hitting his head against the table; he covers his face with his hands instead and groans.

“Isn’t the whole point of all this that we stay away from other people?” Morgan asks, and Spencer doesn’t have to look up to know that Derek has a shit-eating grin on his face.

“People outside of your household,” he corrects without thinking.

“Oh my god!” Garcia shrieks and he winces, pulling the headphones off out of instinct. He’s not the only one—JJ jumps and yanks her earbuds out, and Derek lifts one side of his headphones away from his ear. Spencer hesitantly copies him, putting one half of his headphones back on.

“Jesus, Pen, you scared the shit out of Sergio,” Emily’s saying.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she says, then turns her attention completely to Spencer. “Boy wonder. You’re living with someone and I’m just now hearing about it?”

“I mean, you never asked,” he points out.

“Well, I didn’t think I’d have to!” she huffs. “You usually tell your friends if you’re seeing someone new, let alone living with them!”

“You do, maybe. Emily and I don’t,” he says.

Emily herself shrugs. “Good point. Fair enough, Reid.”

“Besides, we’re not living together,” he continues, “We’re quarantining together.”

“Right, because that’s such a big difference,” JJ teases. He glares at her in return.

Rossi returns to his desk before Penelope can start bombarding Spencer with questions. But there’s no reprieve for him—the man takes one look around and knows something’s up. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asks.

“We just found out pretty boy has a partner,” Morgan sing-songs before Spencer can say anything.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“And he didn’t tell any of us!” Garcia adds.

Spencer groans again and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “This is exactly why I didn’t say anything,” he mutters.

A knocking sound draws his attention away from the call. You’re standing in the bedroom doorway, your hand resting on the doorframe. “You okay?” you ask. “I just heard you groan.”

Spencer mutes his mic again and then leans over so he’s out of the camera’s frame. “They found out,” he sighs.

“Found out what?”

“Found out about... you.”

Realization crosses your face. “They saw me kissing you better?”

“Yeah. I forgot the camera was still on,” he says sheepishly.

“Well, it was bound to happen eventually.” You make your way over to him and take the ice off his knee. “It’s been twenty minutes, by the way.”

“Thanks. So, um...” He picks up the fidget toy you bought him when he was going stir-crazy in the hospital and starts messing with it. “What do you wanna do about this?”

“Whatever you’re most comfortable with,” you reply immediately.

“Okay, good answer,” he says. “But I actually want to know how you feel about this.”

“Well, I’m fine with meeting them, even if it’s just over Zoom. But if you’d rather wait, I’m fine with that, too. Really,” you add when he raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well.” Spencer looks back at the screen. Hotch has returned now, and even though he can’t hear anything, it’s clear they’re all waiting on him. Best to just do this now, he thinks, otherwise I’ll be hearing about it all day. “How would you feel about meeting them right now?”

You blink. “Um, okay. So long as you don’t mind me looking like I was up all night, because, you know... I was.”

“You look fine,” he reassures. “Uh, just stay put for a second. Let me ask if this is okay.”

He readjusts to sit in his chair properly. He starts to put his headphones back on, but you unplug them so you can hear what’s happening.

“You ready to continue, Reid?” Hotch asks. It’s business as usual with him—if he was told what happened earlier, Spencer can’t tell.

“Well, actually,” he starts, and nervousness bubbles up in his chest. He glances up and you give him a reassuring smile. “Actually, I was wondering if I could introduce you guys to someone first?”

Garcia squeals. “Ooh, sir, please say yes!”

“Just keep it quick,” Hotch says. He didn’t even hesitate—they totally told him.

Spencer takes a deep breath, then gestures for you to come over. You seem a little nervous as well, but you handle it well, walking around the desk and into the frame. “Oh, we should have gotten you something to sit on,” he laments when you lean over the back of his chair.

“It’s fine.” You drape your arms around his shoulders and adjust so your head is on the same level as his. It’s silent for a moment, then you say, “Well, introduce me, silly.”

“Oh!” He clears his throat, trying to ignore the heat he feels in his cheeks. “Um, this is (Y/N). My... my partner.”

The call explodes with greetings, everyone talking over each other. “Slow down, slow down,” Spencer pleads. This is all overwhelming enough—he doesn’t need any excess stimuli.

Once it settles, everyone takes their turn introducing themselves (you already know who they all are, though, as he’s told you so much about them). Then you field a few questions—what you do for work, how you met, what your favorite food is (that was Rossi—Spencer suspects that he wants to know for the first dinner party he can hold after quarantine is over).

It’s going well. Everyone seems to like you, and you’re getting by just fine. Until Garcia asks her question, that is.

“So, (Y/N), how long has boy wonder been keeping you a secret from us?”

Both of you tense. “Uh, you know what, I’ll let him answer that,” you say quickly. “It’s just about time for me to go to bed.”

“Wha—no. No, it’s not. It’s just barley past nine,” Spencer protests.

“Yeah, I’m really tired. I’m gonna try and get some extra sleep today.” You give a little wave. “It was nice meeting you all.”

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers desperately. “Not with that question.”

You feign a yawn. “Sorry, I’m just too tired.”

He watches you go back to the bedroom with a pout.

“Well?” Garcia insists when he looks back at her.

Spencer cringes and preemptively lowers his computer volume.

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

tell me what you thought here!

[unprofessional-bard]

Chapter 12 - The Development, Pt. I

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: TW for homophobia, homophobic guy gets kicked in the balls. mostly angst: tense situations, back story reveal (hints to disturbing cult activities/religious trauma??). smut: vulnerable/desperate sex, reader and joel being in love and soft w each other.

Summary: The reader and Joel unintentionally get more tangled up with Kiki and Ward –going on patrols, doing town duties with them etc.– which leaves the reader frustrated.

Word Count: 7.060

Author's Note: I feel like I proofread this 500 times but my apologies if it still sucks 😭

Enjoy!

"I think we earned a small break, don't you think so, Captain?" Kurt extended a beer bottle to you.

"I guess so, colonel," You offered a vague smile and reluctantly took the bottle from him.

"Oh, c'mon, cheer up (Y/N)!" Kurt put an arm around you and chuckled ironically. "It's the 4th of July..."

"Sure," You patted his back but appreciated his enthusiasm nevertheless. "It just doesn't sit right with me that all these other people in the QZ don't have the- the luxury we have."

"Oh, I know," Kurt let his arm go and nodded bitterly. "It ain't just, but there's not much we can do."

You nodded as well: "Well, be back in 5, gotta go piss."

Kurt laughed heartily and waved his hand at you as you walked away from the open area to wash your face, hoping to wash away the guilt as well. It was your first time in a different QZ– Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to be more specific and you weren't exactly having a good time. A big part of your company was wiped out, which had ultimately triggered your survivor's guilt. The situation was out of your control when hunters, bandits and a surprise horde of infected got involved; everyone acknowledged how there wasn't anything you could do, except for yourself. It had been 5 years into this apocalyptic mess, yet you still had trouble adjusting to it... but then again, no one ever really did.

When you reached the shared toilet areas, there were only three cabins. One was occupied, one was completely empty without the toilet itself and the other was simply too dirty.

You heard heavy breathing from the occupied cabin, and instinctively decided to knock on the door to make sure the person inside was alright: "Hey, is everything..."

The moment you knocked the second time on the door, it opened just a smidge to reveal two men kissing, which made you gasp loudly and step back while alerting them.

"Oh god! I'm so sorry–"

"Oh shit–!"

You went to close the door, but immediately decided to turn around in panic, thinking: Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"I'm really sorry! I just wanted to use the toilet since the others are, well– Uh–"

"Fuck, what are we going to–" You heard one of them speak, panicked.

"Relax, it'll be fine," The other one reassured.

"Look, it's uh–" You tried again, slowly turning to walk out of there. "I wasn't here, we never saw each other, okay?"

"No, wait!" You felt a ghostly hand on your arm, but he didn't grab it, just tapped once to get your attention. "Please, you can't tell anyone!"

You raised your hands up mid air to do a stop gesture, trying to get him and his partner to calm down: "No, of course I won't!"

"Wait," The other man with blue eyes stepped out of the cabin. "You won't? You don't mind... us?"

"Mind you? It's none of my business to begin with," You assured both of them. "What happened here stays between us– hell, I wasn't even here as we speak."

"Thank you," He smiled and saw the way he clung onto his partner's –whom you noticed had hazel fleeing to green eyes– hand with his fingers. "Most people around here don't... appreciate us."

You nodded bitterly, a small, sad smile on your face: "I'm so sorry, I wish I could do something for the both of you��"

"What's going on here then?" A deep voice called from behind you, when you noticed a little too late how the man with green eyes' expression shifted to one of fear.

You turned around to meet a face you weren't familiar with: "Why do you wish to know?"

"Why do I wish t–" The guy gave you an incredulous look, interrupted himself and asked. "Identify yourselves."

"Corporal Robin Lazewski," Said the man with the blue eyes.

"Sergeant Cole Doxon." Green eyes followed.

"And you, missy?" The man stood before you at arms length with a sneer.

"Captain," You corrected him. "(Y/N) (L/N). Who might you be?"

The man's sneer disappeared when he realised your ranks were the same, but he still looked displeased: "Captain Phillip Moore. Now, I'll ask you again. What are you doing here?"

The question was more directed at Robin and Cole rather than you, and you knew why, so you stepped in: "Nothing that should worry you, Captain."

"Oh, but I know what's been going on. Had my eye on you two for awhile now enough to know exactly what type of people you are."

"These men are from my company, Captain," You intervened again, lying through your teeth without thinking about the consequences. "If you have a complaint, we can gladly take this up to Colonel Kurt Greenwood, as he is our superior."

The name made Phillip take a step back, clearly making him nervous: "Tsk, no thanks. Don't need to get more involved with your kind."

"If you wanna say something, mister, go right ahead," You growled and took a step forward, risking the possibility of a few days of detention without hesitation. The tension thickened, and thickened, and thickened then finally...

————

"Woah, wait, you just lied out of your ass to him?" Ellie suddenly interrupted you.

"Yeah," You sighed. "If he knew that they were actually from Pittsburgh I would've been... fucked."

"Shit," Ellie sighed. "Guy didn't even know his own soldiers... and then?"

"He said a few unkind words about them, and, well, I kicked him in the balls."

"Are you serious?" Ellie's eyes grew wider, beginnings of a laugh bubbling up in her chest.

"Hell yeah," You offered her your first smile the whole time you'd been lying in your bed together. She came to visit you for the evening, which was no doubt Joel's idea but it was nice of him of course, and ultimately decided to stay the night like you both did from time to time. Your husband, on the other hand, went to stay over at Tommy's to give you both some space.

"Dolly, you were both awesome and out of your mind! What if he caught you? Did they find out?" She asked, squirming where she laid.

"I got away with kicking him at that moment, got the boys out of there and went straight to Kurt." You put an arm under your pillow: "Told him we had to make a transfer, explained the reason. He got mad at me, sure, but he had some connections in the QZ. Later on the guy made a complaint about all of us, but all Kurt said was: Maybe you should worry more about the people suffering in the QZ rather than two people kissing. Maybe then, you can control these uprisings."

"Man," She giggled. "I wish I met Kurt– all of your team. You all were so fucking cool."

You gave her a crooked smile, the pains of your old wounds hurting as if they were new: "He was right, too." She gave you a curious look. "There are more important things people should worry themselves with rather than town gossip, like survival and keeping Jackson running."

Ellie averted her eyes at your words: "Yeah..."

"Look, I may not have the same fierceness I did when I was 25, but that's never going to stop me from kicking someone's balls if they disrespect you." She huffed a brief laugh at your words: "Jokes aside... You know, you can tell Joel, right?"

"Ugh, I don't wanna think about it," She groaned and turned to the right, face directed at the ceiling.

"Take your time. I'm not saying you should tell him, just letting you know that you can, if you want to."

"Sure, thanks..." She stared at the wall for awhile, the moonlight shining directly onto her beautiful features. After a while, she said: "I don't feel like he's being too honest with me, actually."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words: "How do you mean?"

She took her time with her reply: "He ever talked to you about what happened? Before we got here?"

"Not much."

"What about my... immunity?" Her eyes shifted to yours.

You felt like a piece of shit lying to her, making the burden on your shoulder get heavier. The bed felt like it could swallow you when you spoke nonchalantly: "Again, not much. Told me there were a dozen or so more immune people, that they ran some tests and–"

"Yeah, he took me out of there. Unconscious." She sighed and you felt like your uneasiness was showing, but actually you kept your composure. "Do you really believe that?"

This time you took a bit long to answer, walking over the minefield with careful steps: "I'm... I don't know, I'm not really buying it." She gave you a worried look: "But it isn't my business to interfere, either. I really don't know what to tell you."

Ellie just nodded and continued staring at the ceiling afterwards: "I just wish..."

"Yeah?"

"Nevermind."

You nodded, glad the conversation didn't go where you thought it would, relaxing into the mattress: "I heard Tommy brought you one of the comics you were dying to read."

"Yeah," She quietly took a deep breath.

"And? D'you like it?"

"I did actually," She seemed more enthusiastic than a moment ago, which made you relax even more. "But there was another cliffhanger! It wasn't the final volume!"

The next morning Joel stopped by briefly to get his stuff for patrol, kissed you goodbye while you were having breakfast with Ellie, then left. That's when she spoke up: "So? What are we doing today?"

"We?" You raised a brow.

"I got a day off, and you look miserable," She commented. "Not about to let that go to waste, so..."

"I was just planning on lying down for a bit."

"You've been lying down for ever, it's time you did something else!"

"Ellie I really don't have the energy for– for anything, right now." You sighed and helped her with the dishes.

"So... you also don't have the energy for the new game Jesse brought?" She side eyed you, offering a mischievous smile.

You hated feeling like this, not being able to do things with people you cared about because you simply couldn't. Everyone was understanding, of course, but you hated how this feeling had become a part of you overtime; way before you had reached Jackson, and before the death of your family. You even found comfort in it to a certain level, but if you could, you'd gladly get rid of it with a single snap of your fingers.

"I'd like nothing more honestly," You wiped your hands on a small towel on the counter and looked at her: "But we'll see, you know how I get."

If there was someone who helped you get back on your feet as quickly as Ellie and Joel, it was Maria – and Tommy.

But sometimes you really doubted if Maria truly was a maker of right decisions.

It was your first patrol with Ellie where you two went outside, very much like the patrols you took on, but it was still a bit new for her. She wanted to get involved with the patrols sooner than Joel liked: She's too young, it's too early for her, he'd say, but even though it's no age for her to be even seeing the stuff she saw, going through everything she went through, you were on Ellie's side on the matter. She was capable of handling patrols with you, or Joel and others; she was also more skilled than all the kids her age, but a part of you also wanted to keep her safe behind the walls of Jackson.

After a lot of reasoning with Joel, you had managed to convince him and were on your way to start the ski lodge route with Ellie. Maria had told you you'd be meeting with a couple of other people to do a sweep afterwards, but she was hesitant to tell you who. You knew something was afoot, for Maria never was a person to mince her words; it initially gave you an idea about who might be waiting for you, but at least you had Ellie to help calm your nerves. You hitched your horses at the entrance, then walked through the doors. Your jaw clenched and your posture visibly tensed when your theories were proven right and you saw who was inside.

Kiki and Ward.

You internally cringed when you made eye contact with Ward, who was... talking with Joel?

What the fuck is going on?

"'bout time!" Tommy appeared out of nowhere, startling you. "You're half an hour late, we were startin' to get worried."

"What's going on?" Ellie spoke instead of you.

"Well, we'll be heading back," He patted Ellie on the shoulder. "While the others'll do a sweep."

"But we just got here?" Ellie protested. "I thought Dolly and I–"

"Yeah, Tommy, what the fuck?" You whispered and stepped closer to him.

He huffed, it was his signature I'm just gonna put it out here so listen carefully stance: "Maria asked that you solve the issue between you and Ward."

"She didn't ask me shit, Tommy, just told me to get my ass over here. Without a heads up." You sighed and he gave you an apologetic shrug: "She's right, but is patrol really the right time for this?"

"Just shake hands and try to get along, you're partnered up with him."

Your eyes widened: "Tommy–"

"It'll be fine, (Y/N), don't worry." He said reassuringly. "Walt and Bruce went over to the back, you can fetch them and start. C'mon Ellie."

She squeezed your hand in an encouraging manner and followed Tommy out. You rubbed your face and ran a hand through your hair, then finally turned and walked over to the three: "Alright, I'll go get Walt and Bruce, then we can go."

"Sure," Joel offered a small smile and got up from where he was sitting with Kiki, but Ward remained seated with his arms crossed. You took it as an indication to wait for the others to leave so you two could finally talk.

"Well..." You said awkwardly.

"I'm sorry for punching you," He said, straight out, without dwelling on anything. "I get ahead of myself sometimes. I can't really control it when I get angry, I– I never knew how to. It was my only way to survive... and protect Kiki."

You blinked several times at how genuine he was, even his hard expression was softened to some point: "It's, uh– it's okay. Thank you, and sorry, for your nose I mean. It was a reflex."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," He nodded and got up, towering over you, then extended a hand over to you. "We're good?"

"Sure, 'course," You nodded and shook his hand. He pursed his lips and walked out, leaving you a little stunned. You immediately sighed in relief and made your way to the back room, where your memories of fucking with Joel resurfaced and made you smile a little.

"Alright, c'mon you guys, let's go–" You walked into the room and right then, you heard panicked shuffling with a gasp. When you understood what was going on, you immediately stepped back outside: "Oh, woah–."

Were they making out?

If you were honest, you saw it coming, but it still came as a shock. You debated on whether you should leave or stay, but when you heard the panicked voices from inside, you stood there, waiting to apologise as soon as they walked out. It was Walt who opened the door first.

"Dolly– Listen," He was calmer than he sounded back inside. "You... I mean..."

"Look, let me just say this: It's none of my business, and I won't tell anyone, so... It's okay. We can pretend this never happened."

He blinked, a bit dumbfounded: "You don't mind?"

"Walt, of course not. As I said, it's none of my business."

It was then, when Bruce walked out shyly: "You seriously won't go tell anyone?"

At that, you chuckled and looked away, your eyes watering at the memory of Robin and Cole you had told Ellie: "You guys are safe with me– in Jackson. I know some people aren't very open minded here, but just know that you have my support."

Walt suddenly hugged you tightly. You took a second, but immediately returned it with a gentler one: "It's okay."

"Thank you (Y/N)," Bruce smiled sincerely.

"It's the least anyone can do – show basic human decency," You said and smiled back after Walt pulled back. "Come on now, we're already late."

The three of you acted as if nothing happened, but the couple couldn't help the smiles spread on their faces.

"Alright, Doll," Joel began explaining once you stepped to his side to get on your horse. Tommy and Ellie were long gone: "Maria asked us to show 'em how we do our patrols..."

"But?" You already didn't like how Maria picked you two for them, so you scrunched your face up lightly.

"You'll be going with Ward, I'll be going with–"

"Kiki." The name left your mouth with clear discomfort. Joel huffed at your worrisome expression and rubbed your arm soothingly.

"I rightly don't know why we're even assigned with them," Joel kissed your temple gently. "But it'll be fine, sweetheart. C'mon, we have places to cover."

You gave his hand a light squeeze and tried not to look as troubled as you felt inside when you both rode up to the couples, then went separate ways. You were quite surprised Ward actually let Kiki go with someone else– with Joel, but you kept it to yourself.

"So, I presume Tommy or Maria, or someone must've filled you in on how patrol works?" You began once your horses had slowed down the long path.

"Sort of, yeah. Joel and Tommy explained how logbooks work."

"Well, I'll start of with three things you must stick to, then– always. One: Stealth is key to everything. Keep quiet and don't draw any attention to yourself. Two: Your partner is technically your life support. You don't leave them behind, but back them up when they get into trouble and plan routes or approach tactics together. Three: If you come across anything you can't handle– anything at all, you bring your ass back to town."

"Yes ma'am," It was the first time you saw him offer the smallest smile, which softened his hardened features.

For awhile, you rode quietly, until he asked: "Say... Where you from?"

You raised a brow at his question: "Well, would you believe me if I said I don't remember?"

"How is that possible?" He tsked.

"I– I don't know," You chuckled with a hint of bitterness. "I only remember moving to San Francisco with my parents when I was... Around two?"

"Oh so you're a Californian..."

"Well, I suppose. What–" You saw the weird expression on his face: "Where are you from?"

"Idaho."

"Oh, and you're a potato farmer!"

You both shared a chuckle when he continued: "I wish that was the case. Would've traded everything to have been a potato farmer my whole life than..."

"Than what?"

"The shit I went through ever since the world fell apart."

You shrugged: "Don't we all?"

"I don't know about you, but none of those people in there –except for Kiki– would've preferred living as farmers..."

"What are you talking about?"

He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, broke eye contact and his whole stance changed. It took him a few silent moments, but he spoke eventually: "When the infection took over, a small church in our town offered food and protection to everyone there. They barricaded the whole town in a short time, a lot of people died in the process, but we actually made a safe environment– not as strong and well protected like here, though. The infected weren't occupying that part of the city too much, either, so we just made decent living... But in time, the priest of the church started controlling the community. In months everyone was on their knees praying– beggin' for forgiveness for their sins so that they survive this shit..."

"Oh..." You flinched, feeling sorry for him, your heartbeat picking up in worry. You were also unintentionally expecting him to get this story somewhere, pull out a gun and shoot you, or stab you with his knife– you were expecting an Axel case. They might have come all this way just to avenge a loved one who you might have killed, and even though your mind screamed that the scenario had no way of making sense, you still kept your hand on your pistol which was strapped to the side of your thigh that he couldn't see.

"It was fucked up, and I was young, I had no choice but to follow my parents... They died years later and that was when I met Kiki. She was so pretty, and– and kind to me. I really liked her, we were around... 18 and 20 at the time, I think. She helped me mourn my parents, we made really good company. Soon I realised I was falling in love with her."

Hearing these words from him freaked you out a little, if you were honest, because they didn't look very in love; but you were also curious about what the hell had happened to them.

"A year or so later we, uh– Understand this, we had to keep it a secret. If the priest didn't see a couple fit, they'd get punished, but if he did, he'd force them to... Have children, to– y'know."

You couldn't hide the disgust on your face, but he was too focused on somewhere else to notice it, the sorrow and trauma on his face making you feel bad for him.

"We didn't know if we were more scared of the punishment, or Kiki getting pregnant– neither of us wanted a child, we were so young..."

For a moment he looked guilty for saying that, but when you reassured him that you understood, he still looked guilty and regretful: "Naturally."

"Not too long later people started picking up on what type of relationship we had. One time one of the priest's..." A suden wave of rage washed over him– He spat out the next word: "Whores, caught us hugging each other, then we were brought before the priest. He didn't see us fit because we didn't take anyone's permission to get together."

Your brows also drew closer in anger as you listened: "I'm really sorry you two had to go through that."

"It doesn't matter, it was long ago; we escaped, and now we're here," Ward suddenly fixed his posture, looking thoughtful and upset at the same time. The conversation had come to an end.

"Listen, if you ever wanna talk to someone," You spoke hesitantly. "Our head doc Katherine holds weekly, uh, conversations," You couldn't bring yourself to say therapy, even though he'd find out sooner or later.

"I don't– I don't wanna talk about it," He huffed angrily and side eyed you where he sat.

"You seem like you need to, is all I'm saying," You ran a hand through your hair, wiping some sweat off your forehead in the meanwhile. "It's okay to do that, y'know."

"I don't need it!" He growled and turned his head towards you in a harsh motion. "I don't need your– stupid conversations–"

"Hey," You pulled on the reins in your hand, hard, and came to a stop. He mirrored your movements when you growled back: "Those stupid conversations actually help people. They saved god knows how many townsfolk, and participating in them doesn't make you less of a man."

"That's not what this is about."

Sure you wanted to counter, the look of offense in his face telling you everything you had to know, but kept your tongue: "I just suggested you could go, nobody's forcing you to! Keep it in the corner of your mind if you want, I don't care what you do."

With that you started riding again, missing the look of regret and worry on his face. When he reached your side a few moments later, he spoke quietly, softer: "You're right, I'm sorry."

You nodded: "Try not to take things personally, we're not your enemies. We're just trying to help."

The rest of the ride was quiet, but the good outcome of both you and Joel's pairing with the couple unfortunately had a bad outcome for you. Maria asked you and Joel to be patient and stick to them for a month or so– at least until they start to really fit in. You had to accept, thinking of how when you first came here Walt had switched his partner's because he was the first person one to get along with you.

The problem was, you weren't exactly getting along with them, or Kiki more precisely.

You didn't know if it was because of your pride or your reluctance to make a scene about it, but you kept quiet about your suspicions about how Kiki undeniably took a liking to Joel. When you subtly asked a question about how Kiki behaved on patrol, he nonchalantly explained how she picked up pretty quickly and appeared to be a much more normal person; but you left out the bit that whenever you or her husband appeared, she'd hiss like a cat.

Maybe you were simply jealous that a pretty woman like Kiki was hitting on Joel, even though you never doubted his intentions for a second. He seemed very oblivious to her and your hints at what you wanted to say, and that was pretty much your only way of finding comfort.

Ward, on the other hand, always looked at the brink of a breakdown when it got too quiet between you two. Joel also asked about how he was whenever you discussed the pair, and when you mentioned their background and how troubled he looked ever since, he raised a brow. He also mentioned how Kiki started wearing t-shirts throughout the week –sleeveless clothing– and he thought it had to do with some sort of survival condition related trauma, while you had other theories.

Theories that you, once more, kept to yourself.

Because there were always two ends on situations like this: Your theories were correct – she was right all along! or, you thought too much of it – you're so dramatic!

It was a little frustrating, not being able to tell these to any memebers of your family, except for Ellie, who came to understand– probably better than Joel or the others would.

"Yikes, I'm sorry, Dolly," She looked troubled at your worrisome expression when you finally broke and told her about your suspicions.

"Morton's fucking fork," You sighed and ran a hand through your hair nervously. "I honestly don't know what to do, it's too early to say anything but at the same time I feel like it'll be too late if I keep it to myself."

"Well, no matter what happens," She rubbed your shoulder reassuringly. "I'll be by your side. Always."

The words caught you off guard, the frustration of bottled up feelings and the subconscious weight of keeping the truth about what happened with the Fireflies from Ellie finally shattering and setting a few drops of tears free.

"Thank you– Oh, Ellie," She hugged you where she stood while you remained seated on your chair in the kitchen. "What would I do without you?"

"I know, I'm the light of your life," She joked, which made you chuckle briefly.

"Look, I also want you to know that–" You pulled back and took her hands in yours, then looked her straight in the eyes: "That I'd do anything for you. Whatever happens, I'll be on your side too, even if I can't intervene."

An emotional scene between a girl who found her mother figure, and a broken soldier longing for a deeper sense of tranquility eventually finding it in a girl– something she thought she'd never find.

"Christ, Joel," You immediately got up from where you were sitting in the living room and ran up to your husband as soon as you saw his dirty, tired state. It was god knows what in the morning but you couldn't sleep, thoughts of Kiki and Joel keeping you up for the second time ever since your mutual patrols started three and a half weeks ago.

"What're you still doin' up?" You carefully looked him up and down with worried eyes and ignored his exhausted sigh. You quickly but carefully hugged him, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

"Are you hurt?" You asked quietly after he immediately put his arm around your waist.

"Nope, just sore," He closed his eyes. "And a little dirty. Why aren't you asleep?"

You pulled back slowly and looked into his eyes, shrugging: "Couldn't sleep. And good thing I didn't."

"Dolly..."

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." You tugged on his large hand and led him up to your bathroom. After you arranged the tub to fill, you helped undress him, his pale face and tired eyes made you put extra effort to be as delicate as possible.

"You wanna talk about it?" You said after dropping his t-shirt into the laundry basket, while he took off his pants beside the door.

"There ain't much to talk about. We just..." You could feel your heart beat in your ears as you took his pants from him and repeated your motion, but froze in your place when he spoke again: "She saved me."

Your brows shot up quickly and the ache of keeping them crossed in a worried expression for so long immediately made its presence known: "My flashlight gave out, was tryin' to shake it back to life when a stalker grabbed me."

Joel scratched the back of his neck and lowered his head while you just stared and moved towards him slowly, his voice quiet: "I felt its– Its teeth on my neck right before Kiki jumped on it."

"Joel..." You sighed the moment you stopped walking, whispered, gulped and realised how bad your throat ached. He raised his head and gave you an utterly wrecking look, which immediately triggered you to walk over to him and hug him. His arms quickly shot up and wrapped themselves around your back. He buried his face into your neck this time and your hands ran through his hair, caressing the back of his neck soothingly. The way his arms embraced you was tight, but not enough to crush you– just enough to remind you where you belonged.

Home. That's what you felt like.

For the first time in many, many years, you finally found home again.

That exact feeling that made your eyes blurry with tears had struck first after fifteen years into the apocalypse, and it was the night after a particularly tough mission to handle some hunters around the area. The team had almost lost Kurt and Robin, the fear had been very overwhelming. The intensity of it all was nerve-wracking for everyone, so when Robin was back with Cole, they broke down crying in each other's arms. You couldn't bare to see them like that, so you joined with quiet whimpers and hugged them where they sat on the ground. Slowly, the rest of the group had joined, and when finally Kurt put his arms around you and them, everyone calmed down. That was home.

Family.

You inhaled his scent with tears in your eyes and a barbed wire around your throat, then hugged him tighter; the realisation of what might have happened had Kiki not been there washing over you like a tidal wave. All these months of doubting her– maybe you misunderstood her? Were you too cruel to Kiki in your mind? You sure as hell owed her now, you were more than grateful for what she did.

A sharp intake of breath from Joel and the warm wetness you felt on your neck confirmed that he was crying, so you turned your head a little to kiss his neck softly. It was rare that Joel cried, let alone open up like this, so you let him cry on your shoulder for as log as he needed. He didn't make a sound other than his occasional sniffs and sighs.

"I need you (Y/N)," He murmured after calming down a few minutes later, slowly shifting his arms downwards and kissing you deeply, pulling you flush against him. You kissed back, sighing into his mouth and slithering your hands down his back to the waistband of his underwear. You devoured each other at the doorway while the tub was still filling, the chilly yet still warm July night creating a thin layer of sweat between your bodies. He softly pushed you up against the doorframe, and his movements became more rushed the more your tongues danced against each other.

"Joel, baby wait," You pulled back and he stopped immediately. "The bath..."

You kissed a tear that was hanging on the edge of his cheek and reluctantly slipped away from his hold to turn the faucet off, and before you could turn back around, you felt his hands slowly sneak their way under your shirt and smiled softly at the feel. You turned completely, while he carefully walked you over to the counter and pushed you against the edge between the two sinks. He started peppering urgent kisses on your neck, making you sigh a quiet moan as your eyes closed, his hands roaming your body and eventually taking off the sleeveless undershirt off of you.

"What about the– the bath?" You barely managed to ask when he softly bit and kissed on the skin of your breasts, then moved down to tug your shorts down your legs.

"Later," He groaned when he saw the sight before him and immediately went to suck a few marks around your breasts, gently biting your nipples the way you liked it. You moaned and wrapped a leg around his waist so you could have his erection pressing directly against your pussy.

He lifted you up slightly and sat you on the cold counter, making you sigh as he settled between your legs, pulling his underwear off only for his erection to spring against your inner thigh. He was getting harder by the second, but before he lined himself up, he made sure you were taken care of to begin with. While massaging your inner thighs, he carefully bit and sucked on your neck, rubbing the tip of his cock between your slick folds in the meantime. You moaned quietly at his ministrations, his hands feeling wonderful around your legs.

After a while, you reached for his length and lined him up, allowing him to push in. You let out a soft moan by his ear and he did the same when he dived into your depths, then wrapped your arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. He growled, grabbed at your hips and thighs and started off with a slow but somehow rushed pace.

What you liked about a slower pace, first and foremost, was how you could feel everything Joel had to offer and how much more relaxed and focused he was. You liked it when he took his time, making sure you felt every inch and vein of his length– You also liked the tension building up more this way. With the patrols and chores taking up most of your constantly changing schedules, sex had started to become a bit of luxury again, too.

Your eyes opened slowly when he called your name desperately– moaned it. You slowly pulled back from your hug and looked him in the eyes, then kissed him deeply, his rhythm stable but the snap of his hips started to become harsher. His grip on your hips were equally desperate and bruising, but you liked it; it was also your own way of assuring yourself that Joel was still here, with you.

His pace picked up the more your tongues swayed together, then his hand went to the hair on your scalp and massaged the skin there, making you throw your head back and clench down on him with a mewl. Groaning, he kissed and bit all over your neck again, the skin slapping against skin making both of you near the edge.

He suddenly pulled out and away, gently helped you off the counter and turned you around. In one motion, he buried himself deep inside you again and moaned. You arched your back and he pulled your hair into a ponytail, then placed solid, sloppy kisses on your shoulders as he fucked you from behind.

"Shit– Joel," You gasped when he grabbed at your breasts, arms crossed and slammed into you particularly hard. He was getting closer with each passing minute.

"(Y/N)..." He groaned and pressed you down against the counter, trapping you between the cold surface and his hairy, broad chest while sneaking a hand down to your clit. He slammed into you three more times, which made you moan brief but loud ahs and ohs each time; your hands clawing against his hips and arms, leaving your own marks, throwing him over the edge when he thought about the pleasure he felt when your nails digged into his skin.

You both came with loud moans and held onto each other tightly, Joel pulling out the last second even though he really, really wanted to come inside you at that moment: He would never do it without your permission and talking about it first, but the topic was never brought up by either of you.

Panting while coming down your high, you were as disappointed as Joel was when he didn't fill you up with his thick cock– you were also as cautious as your husband about this, and maybe it was finally time to discuss it.

After recollecting yourselves, you both moved into the lukewarm water in comfortable silence, Joel laying against you between your legs and holding onto your hands which you had wrapped around his chest in a hug, resting his head against your own.

Some time later, when you felt yourself dozing off, Joel hummed quietly: "If you're gonna sleep let's move to bed."

"How did you..."

"Your heartbeat got real slow, figured you were dozin' off," He slowly got up with a phantom smile on his lips and looked into your sleepy eyes. This small gesture made you smile back, and after he took your hand in his and placed a loving kiss on your knuckles, you got cleaned and out of the bath. There was much to be said, but sleep overcame you both as soon as you laid on the soft, inviting mattress.

The next morning, Joel had some business in town with Tommy while it was your day off, so you both had the opportunity to talk during breakfast. After some discussion and honesty about how you felt towards Kiki, Joel figured there'd be nothing a good dinner wouldn't fix. You had to agree because of your self-doubt, maybe this dinner would help you understand Kiki's intentions better, and it would also be your way of thanking her for saving Joel.

"I have to tell you somethin', but promise me–" Joel chewed on his scrambled eggs after your reluctant agreement to the dinner. "–You won't get mad?"

You rolled your eyes and offered a small smirk after finishing your bite: "When do I ever get mad at you?"

"Oh?" He raised a brow. "Well, I was startin' to think you were jealous of Kiki, is all."

Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp: "I am no such thing! Joel Miller–"

"Oh boy," He took a sip off his coffee, having made his point.

You took a deep breath, rolled your eyes while they were closed and grabbed your own cup: "Look, I'm not jealous, I just..."

"Just what?"

You chewed on your lower lip while staring two holes into the cup in your hands, took your time to think: "I'm just worried."

"What's got you worried, sweetpea?" His expression immediately softened as he leaned forward, the pet name easing the tension in your heart a little.

"They're– really odd, okay?" You spoke quietly, occasionally meeting his eyes. "Doesn't it bother you just how different they act when they're not around each other?"

"Where're you gettin' with this?"

"I just don't want another Axel case." The room fell to a deafening silence when you said his name, but you continued when he didn't say anything: "Look, I simply can't help but think they're trying to get close to us on purpose."

"Oh darlin'," His eyes widened slightly as he got off his chair and stood beside you in a quick motion, putting his warm hands on your bare shoulders. "I understand what's got you all worried, but I'm sure this is all because of Maria puttin' us together for patrol. Don't worry your pretty little head with all o' that." He pressed you against his body in a hug, gently massaging your shoulders as he did: "Now, I gotta get goin', but when I come back I'll do somethin' to ease all that stress built up in these strong muscles of yours, huh?" He softly digged his fingers into your shoulder blades, making you sigh as you realised they were indeed very stiff. He offered a soft smile: "Agreed?"

"Agreed." You forced a smile in return, trying not to worry like he said. It was Joel, after all; if he said you had nothing to worry about, then you probably didn't...

... But that didn't mean you were going to shut out your gut feelings altogether. It was your instincts that always saved your ass when you were unsure about situations like this, or when you got in trouble with people in general. You could always beat yourself up for overthinking too much and being so doubtful of them, but for now, you were going to keep your guard up at all times and keep them at arm's length.

————

tags: @spideysimpossiblegirl @joelsgeetar @sherry-212 @peachymelon69

[writerffalse]

I don't know if the translation will be totally the same, since it was based on the Google translator, sorry.

N/b = boy's name.

C/y/e = color of your eyes.

— You can't do this anymore! — Liam changes, scaring the girl in front of him a little.

— You can't stop me! I want to help! — Y/n complains in a higher tone. If he wants to scream, I scream louder, that's what the girl thought.

— You can't take chances like that anymore, Y/n! It's too dangerous... — Liam lowers his voice, feeling exhausted. He just wanted Y/n to be safe, without being in danger, but it seems that the more he tried to get you away from everything, the more you got into the pack's affairs. — I can not lose you...

— You won't lose me, Liam! — Y/n exclaims tiredly. Tired of being underestimated just for being human, so what if she wasn't a werewolf? Or a Kitsune? Or even a hunter? Stiles was also human and that was not why they kept excluding him and putting him out of business. She could help, she wanted to help... But it seems that her boyfriend did not understand and that frustrated her.

— You do not know! — Liam yells running his hands through his hair aggressively and it irritates the girl a lot. He hated being yelled at. — Scott also trusted that he would not lose Allison and now she is dead!

Y/n takes a step back, feeling the impact of those harsh words thrown at her, it was as if she had been shot... A shot by the person she trusted most. Liam regrets his words at the same time they left his mouth, despite not knowing the hunter, he knew he had been a great friend of his girlfriend and knew that it hurt her deeply seeing his shocked and very hurt expression on his eyes, hit yourself mentally. It had crossed the line.

— Y/n... II... I'm sorry... — the boy tries to approach his girlfriend to apologize and feels his heart being broken when she walks away, shaking her head. And it was at that moment that he realized the shit he had done and did not know if S / n would forgive him so easily. — Please... Give me...

— No, Liam! — despite changing his voice a little, Y/n takes a deep breath to compose himself. — No, Liam...

The girl turns to get out of there as quickly as possible, she couldn't stand looking at the boy's face. I was too hurt for that.

— Where are you going? Y/n... — Liam calls her starting to go after her, but stops when the following words come out of the mouth that he loves so much.

— Leave me, Liam. I need some time. — she for a few seconds before completing so that he understood better. — A time without you, a time from you.

And that time lasted for weeks, the two did not speak for long weeks. The girl for still being extremely hurt by the phrase of the boyfriend and the boy — after much advice from Lydia — to give the space that the girlfriend asked for.

They were both miserable, but neither would give their arm to cheer to admit that they needed each other. They were so proud. Everyone around them was tired of seeing them suffer, but they couldn't do anything about it when the decision was unique to the teenagers.

Liam aggression problems had gradually worsened since the fight over the unfortunate feeling of his Alpha, Scott. The boy could not control himself in the face of a stressful situation and the rest of the pack always had to be two steps away from him so that he did not become among the students or even hurt someone.

Now Y/n, despite not wanting to see the boy or painted by another, needed him as much as he needed her. Her anxiety attacks increased in a surprising way, if she couldn't take it before, imagine now. She was exhausted, her dark circles very apparent indicated that, they were big dark bags under her eyes C/y/e, purple rings that she tried to hide with pounds of makeup, which was not much use, by the way. And these problems of aggression and anxiety attacks, only they could solve these problems. The boyfriends helped each other, that was a fact.

Everyone at the school was already aware that the couple were fighting and that made several people "excited". Especially a boy who was talking to Y/n at that very moment. Although the boys were happy that Y/n was "single", none of them were brave enough to approach the girl, knew about Liam's background and would not risk it that way. With the exception of N/b, of course.

If looks killed, they would be dead only by Liam's firing who watched the two of them talking, his hands were shaking with anger and he was trying to control himself as much as possible not to go after the boy, but if he kept hitting on his girl, I wasn't sure if I could control myself.

— Come on... It'll be cool. — it was the third time that N/b insisted that Y/n accept to go out with him. The girl had already refused the first two and was starting to get stressed by the annoying boy's insistence. The boy was nice, had a good chat and was distracting her lately, but it was just friendship. At first Y/n thought he just wanted it, but now he had doubts about it. All she wanted was for him to leave her alone at that moment so that she could go to her last class and finally go home to become a vegetable again.

— Look... Thanks for the invitation, but no. — Y/n already tired of all this, she turns to leave, but is stopped abruptly by a somewhat strong grip on her arm.

— I'll have to insist a little more. — The boy smiles in a strange way and she was ready to punch him in the face when someone else intervenes.

Liam, who was watching everything from afar, was just waiting for the right moment to disturb them both, but the fuse was to see him hold her in that unkind way, leaving his things on the floor, he quickly went towards the closet of Y/n under Scott protests.

— Hey man ... Let her go. — Liam speech catches the eye of the N / g who rolls his eyes.

— Y/n doesn't want your presence here, does it, Y/n? - N/b looks at the girl waiting for her answer but she keeps silent. At that, N/b turns to Liam. — She told me herself.

Liam looks at Y/n expecting her to deny that statement, but when he doesn't have it, he feels his heart break a little more. Y/n felt guilty for not being able to deny it, after all it was not a lie. I had even told N/b that I didn't want the boy's presence, but that was in the first week of the fight, when I was still very angry, but now there was no going back and there was no use trying to explain myself, they weren't even talking done.

— Just let me go, okay? — Y/n asked pulling his arm abruptly to get out of his grip ignoring the look of dog without owner of Liam.

— Wait a minute ... Let's talk, babe. — N/b pulls her closer and that's the trigger for Liam to explode.

— She told you to let go! — Liam cries out by attacking the boy.

— Liam! — Y/n exclaims in shock seeing the scene in front of him. She jumps back when the two boys start to grapple with each other. N/b punches Liam in the jaw which seems to infuriate him even more, because the boy is a werewolf and his problem with aggression, N/b face was already bathed in blood. — Liam stop! Scott! Separate them!

Y/n asks desperately for the alpha who had arrived there at that exact moment with the other curious students. The crooked-chin boy pulls his beta sharply and presses it with all his strength in the school lockers, Liam struggles furiously making Scott look sideways to see if anyone is watching them, noting that the students are helping N/b to get up — since he was about to pass out — he turns to Liam with his red alpha eyes.

— Liam, for now! — the uncontrolled beta calms down a little by the order of the alpha, taking a deep breath to calm down.

— What's going on here?! — Professor of Economics and Physical Education Coach, Bobby Finstock arrives screaming seeing the confusion that was there. The students leave in fear of being left for them, leaving only Y/n, Liam, Scott and N/b. — I don't want to know, everyone for detention! Now! And you, my son, try not to stain the floor with blood!

— You will stay here until I say you can leave! — Finstock yells when everyone enters the library. — Pack up all the books! Go, go!

The arrest would be to organize all the books in the library as punishment, Y/n was frustrated since she hadn't asked Liam to get into a fight for her, but she was also grateful. Scott had freed himself from the punishment by saying that he had only separated the two.

There were three of them and that wouldn’t be good for Y/n. She decides to ignore the two and start her work to leave as soon as possible, the tension was almost palpable and it bothered her in an unequaled way. The professor had already left saying that he had no patience to keep an eye on inconsequential young people.

N/b soon tried to start also going to one of the shelves at the back, Liam already decided to try to start a conversation with the girl. Preventing the passage of Y/n, it catches your eye.

— Y/n... — the girl looks at him in disbelief. — We can talk?

— Not now, Liam.

— Not! You will hear me! I know I am not sure in this situation, but that is not doing any good for either of them. — exasperates tired of the whole situation. — II want to apologize for what I said that day, I have no excuse for that, but I was angry and you know how I look when I'm like this. But I can't take it anymore, your lack is killing me! Thinking of you became my daily torture, I know I lost you for a stupid mistake I made, but my heart doesn't understand that you don't want me anymore... I ran for hours and hours in the forest every day in the hope that tiredness make me get you out of my head, I hate to miss you! I hate to be so dependent on you! But damn, I love you! I love you so much and I'm afraid of losing you! I don't know what I would do if you got hurt and...

His speech is cut off when Y/n throws himself into his arms and embraces him with all his strength, the two enjoy the first physical contact after weeks apart. Liam sighs in relief knowing that that hug means that Y/n had excused him, but in a mental note he remembers that his girlfriend is quite spiteful and that he would have to try harder to have his forgiveness definitively.

— Science says that love is like a drug... When I see you go into a trance, the adrenaline runs faster and stronger through my veins, my heartbeat is completely unregulated. The feeling of love is like cocaine, every day I become more addicted to you, the more I saw you far away, but I needed to get your forgiveness, but my pride was greater. I never loved anyone like I love you, because I never met someone as perfect as you. I love you and that's enough for me to be happy. My heart is sincere and my words are honest, I assume that I love you to infinity. I will not lie to myself anymore... I want to be with you every day of my life!

— I love you. — Y/n says emotionally with all the beautiful words that her boyfriend said.

— You guys are so cheesy. — the boy with his face all bruised ends with the cute moment of the couple leaving them irritated.

The two turn to N/b and say together:

— Shut up!

[ragewerthers]

Autumnal

Summary: All Prompto wanted to do was have a nice evening ready for Gladio when he got home from the Citadel.  Sadly Ramuh seemed to have other plans in store.

But with the help of a caring Alpha, poor eyesight and a Christmas gift gone wrong... maybe this evening won't be so terrible after all?

A/n: Hello there!  This is an F3S work for my friend @bgn846​!  I had far too much trouble deciding on which prompt to write so... I did them all in one fic!  The prompts were:

'1.One of the bros gets locked out of their apartment in the rain or snow or something terrible.  They call someone to come help, cuddles and fluff may occur.

2.A/B/O if you wanna try or just regular… Alpha Gladio surprises Omega Prompto with some flowers or something after a long day.  This is purely an excuse for fluff and purring.

3.”Is that a boob mug?”  This has absolutely no context for a reason. Hahah'

They were all so fun how could I pick?!?!? XD  

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26590126

Enjoy! :)

Word Count: 4187

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“You have got to be kidding me?!” Prompto growled under his breath, his fingers fumbling inside his soggy pants pockets as he tried to desperately locate his house keys, shifting his couple bags of groceries from one arm to the other in his search.  Was it unseemly for an Omega to growl?  Maybe.  Did he give any butts about it now?  Absolutely not.

The poor Omega had found himself swept up in an early fall downpour on his way back from a quick excursion to downtown Insomnia and really, why wouldn’t it have happened on today of all days?  It had been spiracorn dung since the beginning and no matter how much he’d hoped for it to get better it appeared it truly wasn’t in the cards.

Another gust of wind whipped its way along the street where his and Gladio’s townhouse resided, sending sheets of rain cascading over him once more.  Why was Ramuh being such a dick today?!

He could hear other people rushing behind him along the sidewalk, seeking shelter in their own homes because they could at least remember to grab their keys from the little bowl at the front door.  Hadn’t Gladio literally put it there months ago to make sure he would remember to grab his keys because he knew something like this was bound to happen?

After coming up short in searching his jacket pockets as well, the sound of something tearing and things hitting the ground instantly made Prompto want to scream.  And so he did.

“Oh come on!” Prompto shouted to no one in particular.  Glancing down he saw the paper bags he’d been using had become so soggy that literally everything he had bought now lay scattered along the stoop or was rolling down the few steps that led to the sidewalk.  At this point, though it stung to see his purchases become waterlogged, he couldn’t bring it in himself to chase after them.  If Ramuh wanted his groceries that bad he could take them! With another unseemly growl that made him feel slightly better, he thumped his head against the door as he tried to figure out what his next course of action should be.

There was always trying to call someone, but at this point his phone was probably so full of rain water it was useless.  Even then who was he going to call?

Noct was in an incredibly important meeting with the delegates from Altissia. It was supposed to help rebuild some of the trading deals that had been in place before Insomnia had fallen all those years ago.  He’d been working so hard to rebuild everything from the ground up and there was no way that Prompto was going to bother his best friend for something as silly as this.  Besides, he could stand some soggy underpants if it meant that Noct could continue to raise Insomnia back to where it should be and far beyond it as well.

There was always Ignis, but today really would be an ill advised day to bother the Beta as well.  If Noct was busy working on building trade deals then Ignis was more than likely pulling the work weight of five men to ensure that it happened.  The man had become more and more reclusive when it came to his time in the archives and pulling out as much info as he could to help create a better and brighter Insomnia.  And while there was definitely a reckoning coming for the Beta in the form of his three friends forcing him to take some sort of break or vacation, today was not going to be that day.  That being said, he would also rather face a thousand feral daggerquills then interrupt Ignis while he was in extreme Adviser mode.

Bringing a hand up, Prompto went to wipe at his face to clear away some of the rain water cascading off his fringe, but aborted the movement a moment later.  At this point it would be replaced in a nanosecond and he couldn’t find the energy to care anymore about it.  With a deep sigh of defeat he took a seat on the soaked cement stoop and tried not to think of his last option.

Gladio.

Prompto gave a quiet, little whine as he thought of his Alpha.  Gods he wished he could just warp back to this morning, wrapped up in the man's arms without a care in the world.  It was a simpler time.  A less soggy and cold time.  He remembered only briefly waking to the brush of soft lips against his brow, his nose and then his own lips as Gladio promised to be back as soon as possible.  The next time Prompto woke, the early morning sun had been replaced with fluffier autumnal clouds and the bed was far cooler without the living furnace that was Gladio

The Alpha had to get up early to be at the meeting with Noct and though the threat from Altissia was non-existent after everything, it still was better to err on the side of caution.  And if there was going to be a force to dissuade any brazen acts of unrest, Gladio’s presence was more than capable of stopping it.

So sadly that meant enjoying a little breakfast together, or a few extra stolen kisses on the front stoop before Gladio went off were off the table for the day.  Prompto found lonely mornings like this to be the roughest to start.  However, he also knew that Gladio preferred them having their mornings to themselves as well and that always filled the Omega with a little extra warmth in his chest.  Knowing that Gladio was going to have such a full day and that his own presence was not needed at the Citadel he’d decided that he would surprise his lovely Alpha with a nice home cooked dinner for when he returned to their cozy apartment.

Thus after spending the better part of the day buying groceries for a ramen dish he knew Gladio would love, and maybe buying a small dessert for them to share together later, everything went to heck in a handbasket.

If he’d spent more time thinking to grab his keys and check the forecast instead of imagining the smile on Gladio’s face he wouldn’t be in the predicament he was in now.

Soggy groceries strewn about the pavement, a chill settling deep in his bones and a wish in his heart greater than anything that he could just be back inside and restart the day from the beginning.

“Prompto?  Prom, what happened?!” The sound of someone shouting to him through the downpour and rumbling thunder had Prompto’s head shooting up, not even realizing he’d ducked his head down to hide against his knees to begin with.

His eyes had to take a moment to focus, but as soon as the familiar warmth of the person’s hand touched his cheek he instantly sagged forward.  Strong arms wrapped around him without hesitation and he felt the rain lessen minutely against his shivering frame.

“Gl-Gladio?” he stammered, nuzzling his face into the crook of his Alpha’s neck, taking in the scent of cool forests and wildflowers.  A scent unmistakably Gladio’s, but with an underlying hint of firesmoke.  The man was upset and Prompto hated knowing he’d caused it.  “S-Sorry… sorry, Gladio.  I… I was st-stupid and for-forgot my…!”  His voice was cut off by a rather unmanly squeak that escaped when Gladio’s arms shifted and he found himself being lifted like a blushing bride and held against his Alpha’s broad chest, shielded from the unkind weather.

“No apologies, Sunshine,” Gladio murmured softly and Prompto felt the way his partner easily moved toward their door with him.  After a little jostling he heard the familiar jingle of keys and soon they were entering into the small hallway of their home.  Prompto could tell he was without a doubt drenching the little carpet they had down with the water coming off of him and he was probably making Gladio chilled by being held so close in his soggy mess of clothes.

A miserable little whine escaped Prompto without him meaning to and he felt Gladio give him a soft squeeze.  “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.  You feel like an ice cube,” he murmured softly and this only made Prompto frown more, especially as he felt himself being carried toward their bathroom.

“I-I can go myself… you… you were wo-working all day.  I’m s-sorry,” he stammered only to find a soft kiss pressed to his forehead.  Looking up he caught the small smile on his Alpha’s lips.

“Please stop apologizing, sweetheart.  It’s not your fault.”

“But…,” he murmured only to find the man's lips now pressed against his own to stop him from finishing his sentence. As Gladio leaned back he nuzzled against Prompto’s nose, the deep rumble of a small purr vibrating through his chest and making Prompto’s bones feel like they were turning to liquid.  It only lasted a few seconds, but it was more than enough to quiet him and make him pliant for what Gladio had to say next.

“None of that,” Gladio murmured softly as they finally reached their bathroom. “The only time you should ever have to apologize is if something is directly your fault.  Do you control the weather?   No.  Would you have apologized to me on a sunny day?  No.  This isn’t your fault, Sunshine. Just a little bad luck.”

Prompto felt himself carefully set down on the bathroom counter, Gladio’s large frame moving around their small bathroom easily as he went to turn on the shower spray and grab his own towel for Prompto to use.  “Why does it always seem like I have bad luck though?” Prompto asked as Gladio closed the shower curtain and turned back to his mate.

“I don’t see what happens to you as bad luck.  Merely… inconvenient moments?” Gladio tried to offer, getting an unimpressed looked from his Omega as water still dripped from his fringe and down his freckled face.  “Okay… so maybe some of it is bad luck.  But it just means I get to come in and be your knight in shining armor and you know how much you love that.”  

The cocky little smile Gladio flashed him after that made Prompto snort, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth to quiet the noise. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured.

“But I’m not wrong,” Gladio teased, stepping forward and sweeping his mate’s damp fringe to the side to press a gentle kiss to his brow. “Now go on.  I’ll leave you to warm up a bit and I’ll bring in a change of clothes, okay?”  With another soft kiss to the tip of his chilled nose, Prompto already felt himself warming just from the presence of his Alpha.

Once Gladio stepped out, Prompto scooched himself off the edge of the bathroom counter, moving a bit slowly as his fingers still felt a little numbed and chilled from the rainfall.  Soon he was free of his soggy clothes, quickly put in the hamper, and was stepping into the wonderfully warm spray of their shower.

It wasn’t much longer that he was feeling more human and less like the Astrals personal punching bag.  The feeling had returned to his fingers and toes and if he chose to use Gladio’s body wash to wrap himself up in the man's scent a bit more he was sure his Alpha wouldn’t mind.  Pulling the curtain back he saw that his favorite pyjama’s, the sweats with chocobo’s on them and his favorite band t-shirt, were already on the counter waiting for him.  Apparently he’d been so engrossed in getting the icky feelings and weather off of him that he hadn’t heard the door open and close.  For such a big guy it always surprised Prompto how stealthy he could be.  Which generally made impromptu games of hide and seek a nightmare for him because the man was a walking shadow!

Soon he was changed, his hair toweled off with Gladio’s towel and hung back up to dry.  Now to figure out how he was going to save the evening from his ridiculous ‘inconvenient moment’ and do something nice for Gladio! Opening the door to the bathroom, Prompto only had a moment to think before he found himself literally enveloped in a blanket and hoisted back into the air with a squeal that would’ve put the best horror actress to shame!

Gladio’s booming laughter echoed through the hall a moment later and as Prompto wriggled his face out of the warm fabric he glared at the man.  “Wh-what are you doing?!“ he squeaked, finding himself once more being carried around in his darling's arms like a bride in a quilted gown.

“Making sure my Omega is taken care of, sweetheart,” he cooed, making Prompto try to hide his flushed face in the blanket which, he realized, was radiating heat.  He nuzzled his cheek against the fabric and a soft little trill of content escaping him making Gladio chuckle again.

“I see putting the blanket in the dryer for a little bit worked its magic,” he teased, making Prompto flush more, though his soft smile on his lips stayed.  Soon he was being deposited on their sofa, his favorite tv show already playing and something warm and delicious smelling steaming on the small coffee table in front of them.

“Did… is that Cup Noodle?” he asked as he saw the noodles presented in a far fancier mug then he had ever realized their house had and a fork already nestled in it, only waiting for him to pluck it up to dive into the meal.

“It is. I went back out to clean up what was left of the groceries and I saw what you wanted to make,” he murmured, taking a seat beside Prompto and wrapping his arm around the man to hug him close to his side. “I know it’s not homemade, but I hope it will still do.  If nothing else it should help warm you up even more.” Prompto felt his cheeks heating for the umpteenth time now at the sweetness of his mate, but also at how spectacularly he had failed.  Sighing quietly he nuzzled closer to Gladio, taking in a deep breath and just focusing on his Alpha’s warmth for the moment.  “I wanted to surprise you,” he whispered quietly. “You had such a busy day and… I just wanted to give you a relaxing evening.  All I managed to do was make you worry about me and look after me.”

Closing his eyes as he spoke he curled up a bit more in the blanket.  “I’m sorry.”

Gladio’s arm around him moved slightly and soon Prompto felt strong, calloused fingers gently soothing through the damp knots in his hair.  “You have nothing to apologize for, Sunshine,” Gladio whispered gently.  “And I’ll keep reminding you of that.  That you don’t have to apologize for things like the weather, or dropping something, or forgetting something... until one day those apologies don’t happen anymore.  Because there is nothing you could ever do that I would think you should be sorry for.  You’re my sunshine.  And sunshine has only ever made me smile and happy. No apologies needed.”

The soft reassurances and the gentle soothing to his hair was almost enough to make Prompto’s barely held together composure break and a quiet sniffle escaped him.  “Y-You’re too good to me, ya know that?” he murmured, a watery little giggle escaping when he felt Gladio ruffling his hair lightly.

”No… you deserve the world, Sunshine.  Don’t ever doubt that,” Gladio murmured softly, pressing a kiss to his temple before shifting and leaning forward.  “Now.  I think the noodles have cooled long enough and if you wait any longer they’ll lose their chewy integrity.”  

“Chewy integrity?” Prompto questioned, bringing a hand up to soothe his hair back down and feeling the weight in his chest lifting more and more.  “I feel like only Cup Noodle addicts would believe in such a thing.”

The dramatic gasp that left Gladio and the scathing look he was given had Prompto fighting another round of giggles as he brought a hand up to cover his mouth.

“I am not an addict!  I’m a connoisseur!” Gladio huffed before passing over the ceramic cup, fighting a smile of his own.

“Mmhm.  And I’m the queen of Duscae,” Prompto teased, stirring his fork into the noodles in search of a few veggies.  

“I’m gonna tell Iggy you don’t believe in the integrity of noodles.  You’re going to get such a lecture,” Gladio huffed, leaning back with his own cup and twirling a fair amount of the noodly goodness onto his own fork.

“Oooor… you’ll get an earful about your sodium intake again and… then… uh…,” Prompto paused as he turned to look at Gladio, watching as the man stared back at him in confusion.

“And… what?  Everything okay, Prompto?” Gladio asked carefully around a mouthful, but Prompto’s eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to process what he was seeing.

“Is… is that a boob mug?” he asked, looking at the coffee cup Gladio was currently enjoying his meal from.

Gladio almost choked on his half chewed bite, coughing and smacking his chest before looking at Prompto like he was the crazy one.

“What?!  No this isn’t a boob mug!  Look at it,” he said, raising up what was clearly the mug of a female torso.

Prompto stared at his mate in disbelief before pointing at it.  “I am!  It’s a mug… with boobs!  Where did you even get that thing?!”  In the few years they had been living here he had absolutely no recollection of that hideous thing and if he had seen it, it wouldn’t have stayed in this apartment for very long. “Cor gave it to me last year for Christmas.  He said it was a bag gift, which was weird because it was wrapped, but still!” Gladio groused as he narrowed his eyes at the mug, apparently trying to see what Prompto was seeing.  “It’s obviously two moogles next to each other!  Look!  They even have their bright red noses!”

Prompto slowly started to see all the pieces coming together in this one moment and honestly, it was both endearing and hilarious.  “Uh… I’ll be right back, big guy,” he said lightly, only just keeping the tremble of laughter out of his voice as he wiggled out of the warm blanket and ran to their room.  Quickly locating what he was looking for he returned with his old glasses in hand and handed them to his Alpha.  “Would you please, please, please humor me and put these on?”

Gladio had waited patiently for his mate’s return, but seeing the glasses instantly had him grumbling.  “What are you trying to say?” he questioned, holding the glasses as if they had personally offended his honor.

“Nothing!  Nothing, just… please?” Prompto asked, jutting out his bottom lip and making his eyes go extra wide in that way he knew Gladio couldn’t fight against… adding in a little whine making it a sure thing.

With a growl, Gladio begrudgingly unfolded the glasses.  “Fine.  But I’m gonna tell you the same thing I said earlier,” he reassured as he perched the glasses on his nose before picking up the cup again.  “This mug is just an innocent picture of… shiva’s tits!”

“Exactly!” Prompto crowed as Gladio’s now seeing eyes beheld the world’s most atrocious mug.  The absolute shock that crossed his mate’s features had the laughter Prompto had been trying to hide finally break free.

“It’s not funny!” Gladio whined, still gripping the mug in his hands and staring at it with betrayal.  After a moment his eyes widened in horror.  “I’ve been drinking from this at the Citadel!  I brought it home because it chipped and wanted to fix it!  Oh my gods I must’ve looked like such a dick!”

Prompto was positively beside himself now, his laughter high-pitched and squeaking as tears of mirth clung to his eyelashes.  Oh his poor sweet Alpha!

“Y-You… dihihihihidn’t?!  O-oh my gahahahad!” Prompto wheezed out, laughing so hard he was leaning on Gladio who looked like he wanted nothing more to have the sofa swallow him up.  The mug was now abandoned on the coffee table and Gladio had his head in his hands.

Slowly Prompto started to calm, a few stray giggles still bubbling up as he wrapped his arm around his Alpha’s shoulders.  “I’m sorry, big guy.  But… I think what Cor might have said to you was that it was a ‘gag’ gift.  Not a ‘bag’ gift,” he murmured softly.  Gladio groaned even louder as he heard that and shook his head.

“So not only is my eyesight going, but I can’t hear as well?” Gladio mumbled and Prompto smiled gently, pressing a soft kiss to the man's shoulder and soothing his hand over his broad back.  

“First of all, I was at that Christmas party and if the music was any louder you would’ve had to send flare signals to talk to anyone,” Prompto said gently, getting a little huff from his Alpha as he wrapped his arm around him and hugged the big guy closer.  “But as for your eyesight… you’ve definitely been squinting a bit more lately.  But… those glasses are cute on you.”

Prompto watched as Gladio’s ears tinged red at being called cute and he bit his lower lip as a smile appeared over his lips.

“Shields don’t wear glasses… and they aren’t cute…,” came the haughty little reply and Prompto found himself rolling his eyes.

“Well… my Shield just mistook a boob mug for moogles so I think there maaay be an exception to the rule,” he giggled softly.  “And while I hate to argue with my Alpha… he most definitely looks cute in glasses.”

Gladio finally peeked his eyes out, his cheeks matching the light pink of his ears and making Prompto’s heart flutter a bit.  Leaning forward he pressed a soft kiss to one of those warmed cheeks and finally saw his Alpha’s smile returning.

“I guess we both had a tough day, huh?” Prompto murmured softly.  “I got caught in a rainstorm brought on by the rage of Ramuh himself… and you found out you’re getting old,” Prompto teased his Alpha lightly, giving his side a little pinch and earning a squeak from the man.

“Hey!  I’ll show you old!” Gladio growled, quickly tackling Prompto onto the sofa and gathering up his giggling Omega in his arms, pulling him flush against his chest. “Do old Alpha’s cuddle?  I think not!” he mumbled from somewhere above Prompto’s head, making the blond giggle harder as he wrapped his arms around Gladio’s waist and snuggled closer to the warmth he adored. “I don’t know.  Should I do tests to find out?  Find some nice young Alphahaha’s!  Okahahay!  I won’t!  I w-wohohon’t!” Prompto squealed out as Gladio’s fingers teased at his vulnerable side, tickling him mercilessly for a few seconds before stopping.

“Shush it, you,” Gladio chided with a soft smile, glancing down at Prompto with a look that always managed to melt Prompto’s insides.  The omega gave a happy little trill at that and snuggled closer as Gladio’s arms wrapped more snugly around him.

“Well… now that your Cup Noodles have lost any and all texture and you’ve managed to lure me into a cuddle pile… why don’t you get some rest, Sunshine?” Gladio murmured, the quiet, deep timbre of his voice already starting to have an effect on the Omega.

Cuddling closer and hiding his face against Gladio’s chest, Prompto felt his eyes already starting to close.  The warmth of his mate’s embrace that he had missed since this morning enveloped him completely and finally, finally every bad thing from the day felt like it was starting to ebb away.

He felt Gladio shifting for a moment, hearing the faint sound of his glasses being placed on the coffee table before the man settled once more.  A hand soon made its way up to his hair, gently running through it and lightly scratching over his scalp and truly, this was all Prompto ever wanted or needed.

It wasn’t much longer that Prompto found a soft purr starting to escape him and a little smile flickered over his lips as Gladio soon responded in kind.  The Alpha’s deeper purr made Prompto’s mind go wonderfully fuzzy and he sighed softly.

Finally, after the struggles and ups and downs of the day he was able to be back where he had longed to be since the beginning.  In the strong arms of his Alpha, a soft smile on his lips and knowing that regardless of what little turmoils and inconvenient moments happened, he would always have Gladio there to pick him up, making him laugh and offer him comfort.  Hopefully he could do the same.

Perhaps he’d start by getting rid of that mug for him?

But that could happen after a nice autumn nap.

[lilhemmo]

WHY HAS NO ONE ASKED FOR ARRANGED MARRIAGE!AU SWEET PEA?? I would like that and love confessor ;-)

send me two au’s from THIS list + a ship/character 

a/n: please please please love this!! i love arranged marriage au’s lol hope you guys like it too!!

THIS IS OVER 5K WORDS SO BE PREPARED FOR SOME ANGST AND FLUFF AND LOVE 

-

The day you are engaged is the first day you meet your betrothed.

He’s tall with dark hair and deep eyes to match, towering over you as he walks towards you with your father in tow. He’s speaking to him and they’re smiling, which you hope is a good sign.

“My love,” your father reaches out to you and you walk towards him. He grins and you force yourself to mimic the expression, “Please meet Pearson Sweetwater, your betrothed.”

“So nice to meet you,” you force the words from your lips. You swallow thickly, introducing yourself by name even though he probably knows it already. He reaches his hand out, and you accept it. His lips are warm against your knuckles and if this weren’t an arrangement, you might admit that he were handsome and alluring.

But this is an arrangement, so you refuse.

The wedding is set for three months from now, and you are not going to be any part of it. You won’t pick the flowers, or the wine, or even the color scheme. You won’t support this patriarchal event because you don’t agree with it. It’s the least you can do to put your foot down where it counts.

You hardly see Prince Sweetwater in the time between when you were introduced and now, two weeks later.

He catches you off guard one night when you’re tending to your horse, Peaches. You’re brushing out her mane, considering taking her on a ride, when he materializes out of nowhere.

“Milady.”

You gasp, clutching your hands over your heart. You sigh when you make out his frame in the moonlight, relief flooding your shoulders.

“I apologize if I startled you, milady,” he takes a gentle step forward, using his hands as he speaks. His throat bobs as he approaches you, “Your father mentioned the stablehands prepared me a horse to ride for tomorrow. I just wanted to get acquainted so she wouldn’t be startled when I took her out tomorrow.”

“That sounds…” you pause, licking your lips, “reasonable.”

Prince Sweetwater smiles, looking down at his feet, and you take the moment to drink him in and appreciate his physique.

“D-Do you want to go for a ride?” you find yourself asking. “I, uh, I know the best trail.”1

He is quick to answer, “I’d love to.”

You mount your horse and he does the same, being ever so gentle and speaking to her sweetly. He pats her neck and grabs the reigns, holding them firmly in his grasp. You look over the back of your shoulder and smirk.

“Ready?”

Prince Sweetwater nods to answer, a gentle smile on his lips as you both urge your horses to trot forward.

You guide him towards the lake, but just before you get to the clearing that parts to the shore, you dig your shins into your horse and Peaches begins to gallop. You laugh to yourself as the wind whips through your hair, breeze chilling your skin.

You pull up on the reigns to heed your horse by the lakeshore. You turn Peaches so you can watch as Prince Sweetwater struggles to tame his horse into going at the speed he would like. You’re laughing as he approaches, his hair a mess and his cheeks bright red from embarrassment.

“I should hope that this will not be how our entire marriage will be,” he says, breathless, with a smile on his lips.

You shrug, a light smirk tugging your mouth skyward, “What can I say? I like to keep my company on their toes.”

You both slide off your horses and tie them to a nearby tree. Together you walk down the lakeshore, watching as the moonlight glints off the water. You’re silent for the first few minutes, but it is the Prince who breaks the quiet.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” he turns his head to look at you, a wild curl hiding his forehead. Prince Sweetwater licks his lips, “I hate that this is how we met. I wanted to come and visit sooner, I didn’t want-”

“It’s okay,” you reach out and touch his arm. You shake your head, as if that will give him further affirmation, “You’re a good man, Pearson.”

“You can, uh,” he stutters as his cheeks grow redder, “you can call me Sweet Pea.”

-

“I have been standing here for so long,” You whine, batting your arms around just enough to make your point but not enough to pierce your skin with the pins holding the fabric in place. “This is miserable.”

Your seamstress scoffs, “Milady, this is no way to treat your staff. Do not be ungrateful.”

“I am not ungrateful, just particularly unkind,” you sneer. “This is an affair of the patriarchy, not of me. Why don’t you have my father and the Prince sit through this miserable affair?”

The seamstress, Julianne, chuckles at your outburst, “Would you like to see the Prince in a wedding dress?”

You roll your eyes, “Does that mean I get to wear the pants?”

Instead of antagonizing you further, Julianne returns to her work and may stab you with her needles accidentally on purpose.

You cannot help it when you make your way to the kitchen. The servants there will make you anything you like, and right now you would like nothing more than a piece of dense cake and a large cup of fresh milk.

“That kind of day, huh?”

Sweet Pea’s voice makes your throat bob, and you almost spat out your milk. He smiles as he joins you at the table, leaning across it. The servants try to offer him something to eat, but he waves them off with two fingers in the air.

“I have been poked and prodded as if I were some sort of rat under experimentation,” you grumble. You stab another piece of your cake and belligerently shove it between your lips with a scowl.  

“If it makes you feel any better, I had to spend the entire day with your father, discussing how to merge our kingdoms,” Sweet Pea rubs his face with his hands and you can’t help the smile that splits your lips. “Talk about a difficult afternoon.”

You reach out and grab his hand in your own. Over the past few weeks, the two of you have developed some sort of camaraderie, an understanding of sorts. It keeps you sane to discuss your days with one another, as no one outside of the two of you could ever understand how the other feels.

“I would rather be in meetings about how to feed our people and how to keep the servants warm at night than be sewn into a dress and berated with peonies versus lilies.”

“Lilies,” he looks you in the eyes. His cheeks burn but he speaks anyway, “I-I like lilies.”

Biting your lip, you match his gaze, “Lilies it is.”

-

You thread your arm through his as you walk through the garden. It’s warm out, so you’re wearing a lighter gown that is gauzy and flows with the breeze. Your hair is up, allowing the wind to send a chill down your neck.

“I finally understand your pain,” Sweet Pea tilts his head downward to you, “I’ve had to do my fittings, and it’s misery.”

“Well, I’m glad I have someone to share it with.”

The two of you walk further through the garden, and Sweet Pea pauses for a moment to pluck a bright yellow flower from the bush. He turns, facing you and a bright smile tugs on his lips. He reaches up and brushes a stray lock of hair from your eyes and in the process, tucks the flower behind your ear.

You blush, “Thank you, your Highness.”

“Oh, stop that.” Sweet Pea runs his thumb down your jaw bone. He can’t fight the smirk, “You know I hate that, especially from you.”

“What was it I said the night on the lake?” You lean into his side and allow him to wrap an arm around your midsection. “I like to keep my company on their toes. I can’t let you believe I will make your life easy, my prince.”

“At least I won’t be wed to someone without a brain.”

Sweet Pea holds you close, so close that neither of you notice the group of royals looking on from their balconies, observing the budding relationship between two betrothed.

-

“They are starving, father!” You shout, your voice ringing out in the castle hallway. Your cheeks are stained with tears as you cry out for your people. “We cannot sit idly by while the neighboring kingdom is offering an alliance, and food! We must do som-”

“You will head your place, child.” Your father’s hand shakes by his side and you wonder for a fleeting moment if he may strike you across the face for your belligerence. 

“I will not stand and watch while my people suffer,” you seethe before unceremoniously stomping out of the room.

Sweet Pea finds you later, pacing in the stables. Your cheeks and eyes are bright red from your tears and he feels a small piece of his heart break at your appearance.

“Darling,” he squats beside you and cups your cheek between his fingers, “What are your tears for?”

You swipe at your cheeks and sniffle, “My father will not accept the truce with Edenburg. His ego will not allow it, even though they offer the resources that our people need.”

“Edenburg would storm the halls and take the crown,” Pea smoothes your hair. He smiles sadly, “A king could not afford to provide an alliance to Edenburg. They would steal our land, our people, out from under us.”

“Look at you - we’re not even married and you’re already speaking as if you’re the king.”

Sweet Pea scoffs at your comment and instead of snapping at you, he kisses the crown of your head. He sighs, “Maybe we could expand the farming land? There are unexplored plots to the east and the south. They are probably rich with fertile soil, as the mountains would provide minerals in the run off from the heavy rains.”

“I cannot watch another one of my people suffer because we cannot provide,” you say with a firmness even you are surprised with. You muster a steady voice, “We sit, high and mighty in the castle with our food and drink, while they struggle to find clean water and some bread. We can provide for them, but we are too busy stuffing ourselves to pay attention!”

“Come here.” Sweet Pea opens his arms and you find solace there. His lips are buried in your hair and your arms find their way around his midsection. You sob into his shoulder, the sadness of your people a contagion as it seeps into your bones and culls itself in the form of your tears.

The next day, Sweet Pea is at your room early in the morning. He knocks on the door, asking if he may enter your chambers. You know how this will look, what with the wedding still weeks away, but you don’t care. You don’t plan to bed him.

“Get dressed, but not in your usual attire.” Pea is breathless as he speaks, his own clothing confusing you. He is wearing generic brown pants and a green tunic, nothing special, nothing telling of his status. His hair is mussed, his dark eyes shining.

You do as he says, a simple dress adorning your frame and flat shoes on your feet. You pull your hair back into a braid and don’t bother with any powders on your face. Sweet Pea offers you his hand and in haste, the two of you make your way to the stables and ride your horses off into town.

“What are we doing?!” You screech as you breach the castle gates. The guards let you by, on Sweet Pea’s authority, and you’re riding down the trail into town before you know what’s happening.

“I packed the horses with supplies,” Sweet Pea motions to the backs of your steeds. Surely, they are packed down with satchels and baskets, filled to the brim with food and water.

He smiles over his shoulder, and you feel your heart beating quickly in your chest.

You visit houses, attempting to remain anonymous so there is no attempt on either of your lives. You give out food and water, and commune with the commoners. They tell interesting stories of the town and the wedding soon to be had for the princess who lives alone in the castle.

Before too late, it is evening and the air has cooled to a balm, settling on your face and neck. You are around a fire with the fellow villagers, the meat and fruit you brought to them being passed to one another and shared - as it should be. 

“I hear that the Prince is handsome,” a young lady pipes up, a bashful blush on her cheeks.

You nod in agreement, deciding to mess with your companion, “Yes, I hear that he has beautiful eyes and a kind heart. The princess is lucky.”

“I hear that they are in love,” another teen girl speaks. She brings her bowl of soup down from her lips, “I hear that it was once an arranged marriage, but now they are so smitten with one another, they spend every waking moment together. How romantic?!”

One of the younger ladies looks to you, “Do you believe in true love?”

You lick your lips, your heart in your throat. You take a deep breath and force a smile, “I used to. My father and my mother were very much in love, but she fell ill. Had she not been courted to his side, she might not have died. She may have been able to live on and love another.”

“But she loved your father!”

“And it killed her,” you quip, your eyes stinging with tears.

Sweet Pea goes to grab for your hand, but you are standing to your feet and mounting your horse before he can react.

-

The wedding is a mere week away and you feel more overwhelmed than ever. You’re up to your neck in last minute decisions, none of which you really want to make, and everyone is looking to you. You want to crumble, but your status and your ego won’t let you. 

You’re tasting desserts to be had at the after-party when he finally notices the tears brimming in your eyes and the paleness of your cheeks.

“Everybody out!”

The servants scatter in mere seconds, leaving the dining hall bare save for you and the Prince.

Your facade breaks and you sob into your hands.

“We’re getting married, Sweet Pea!” You cry, your voice shaken. You sniffle and swipe at your face, “This is all for our wedding, to unite our kingdoms and build an empire.”

“Yes?” Pea phrases the word as a question as he slides onto the bench beside you, thighs touching. He pushes your hair from your face and gently drags your hands away so you can no longer hide your expressions.

“Do you not want to fall in love and marry her?” Your eyes are honest as you beg him for the truth. “Do you not wish to have your true love?”

“My princess,” he starts, a gentle smile on his lips, “I am beholden to you in a binding that I cannot break. You are my dearest friend, and I would not wish to have anyone else by my side as we go into this next chapter of our lives.”

“That’s just it, Pea!” You shout and stand to your feet. You snort out a sarcastic laugh, rolling your eyes, “I don’t want it to just be the next chapter of our lives! I want to love the father of my children. I want to love my life partner. I don’t want to throw away my entire life for someone to halfheartedly stand by my side and call me wife. I want someone to want me, to love me!”

 You spit on the ground, “I cannot take this any longer.”

Before you allow him to speak, you are gone between the double doors.

-

Sweet Pea has never felt fear in the same way that he does now. It is the day of the wedding ceremony and he is in the most uncomfortable of fabrics. His stockings are itching and his shoulder pads are stiff. He is stood at the edge of the alter, awaiting your arrival that he fears may never come.

You surprise him, though, with both your appearance and your beauty.

The ceremony proceeds as expected, predestined vows are shared and wine slips down your throats. You take one another by the hand, and the fated words are spoken by the priest.

“Do you take this Princess to be your lawfully wedded wife?” he asks, turning to Sweet Pea.

He is sturdy, as always, and he does not hesitate as he replies with his lines. He then takes the ring - the most stunning of rings - and slips it onto your finger. He gives you a look, as if telling you that this is your last chance to turn it all down and go your separate ways. And you know that he is honest and true, that he would let you go without a second glance and never hold you accountable for whatever happened next.

You interrupt the priest’s words with your own - “Of course I do, now give me the ring.”

The crowd erupts into laughter and the ring bearer places the gold band in your shaking fingers. You slide the ring onto Sweet Pea’s large fourth finger, your hands hovering over one another for a moment too long to just be an arranged marriage.

The priest ducks his head and says the final words: “You may now kiss the bride.”

You suppose you should have practiced this part, but Pea does something to surprise you. He takes you by the jaw and turns your cheek so his lips just barely touch the corner of your mouth.

Everyone sitting in the pews begins to clap, throwing flower petals as the priest declares you husband and wife.

It is not until later, when you are alone in your chambers, that you ask him why he did it.

“I want you to have your first real kiss with the person you love,” he speaks honestly. “I couldn’t take that away from you. Even if it means it isn’t me.”

-

The two of you share a room, share a bed, but you do not share the same body, not yet. Sweet Pea sleeps on the very edge of the bed, keeping his warmth and his body as far from you as he can without falling on the floor. He respects you - he waits for you to dress before using the facilities. He does not sleep in the nude and he normally wakes before you, so you’re used to being alone when you open your eyes first thing in the morning.

This morning you decide to go exploring. It has been eight months since the two of you were wed, and yet nothing has changed. You have not been declared Queen, your father has not stepped down. The tension between your country and the Sweetwater’s has ebbed, which was the entire point of your arrangement, so you’re delighted.

You pass through the halls, greeting your servants as you go by. They smile at you and wave in return. You’re not questioned as to where you’re going, but you know in your soul where your journey will take you.

The pads of your feet take you to the stables, where you see Peaches perfectly groomed and ready to take out for a morning trot.

You’re surprised to see Sweet Pea in the stall next to Peaches, but his back is to you. You reach your hand up to get his attention, but realize that he’s speaking to someone else. Instead of interrupting, you duck under the nearest stable wall and wait until he’s gone.

“I-I can’t just-”

“You can, and you will, Sweetwater.”

The voice is oh-so familiar. It is the voice of Sarah, your closest maiden. She is the one who brings you the doctor when you are sick or sneaks you an extra dessert after dinner is over. She is the one who ends your fittings early and always picks you the most suitable fabrics. She is your most trusted maiden, the one who you would do anything for. 

Why is she meeting with Sweet Pea?

“I love you,” Sweet Pea grunts out. “I love you, and I don’t want to live my life without you. I cannot stand to be under the sheets without your body to keep warm, to give me shelter. I cannot continue on without knowing that you will stand by my side and be my partner in life, and in love. I have been in love with your soul and your spirit since the day I met you, and I cannot contain it any longer. Will you be my wife?”

You didn’t expect your heart to drop from your chest to your feet. You didn’t think that you would spill over with tears fat enough to coat your cheeks. You didn’t believe that you would begin to shake until you can’t tell which finger is which in the blur.

The ferocious side of you wants to turn around and rip them limb from limb. How dare they conspire behind your back to have a secret marriage? Sweet Pea had all but given you an out the day of your marriage, had he not thought he could do the same?

You push yourself away from the stable and force your legs to carry you up the hill and back to your room. 

That is where you stay, that is where you never leave.

Sweet Pea is no longer allowed in your quarters. There is a secret chamber that is attached to your own, and you have Elizabeth, an older maiden, lead him to it. You have the servants move his clothing and bathing materials to the secret chamber, getting rid of anything that reminds you of him.

He beats on your door the first day, begging you to let him in, to tell him what is bothering you.

Instead, you become the silent princess.

Word spreads that the princess has fallen ill, which is why no one has seen her in three months. Rumors sprout from different mouths, some believing that you have found a new lover, some believing that you are highly contagious, and others believing that you’ve been murdered or taken your own life in your grief.

Only you know the truth - you have fallen ill to the sickness of unrequited love.

Months pass, and you really do feel like you’ve begun to catch an illness. You decide that you must get out in the sunshine, so you wake early the next morning and sneak down from your room to the stables. You push away the feelings that wind like a vice around your heart, remembering the last scene that played before your eyes when you were here.

“Peaches, you are my only friend now. This is a horrid place, full of liars and harlots,” you swing your leg over to mount your horse. You smack her on the backside and she carries you to your favorite place, the only place that can calm your errant mind.

You spend all day at the lake, soaking in the sun and dipping your toes in the water. You have cried until you have no tears left, your energy sucked out of your very soul until you find a rejuvenation here at the lake.

Finally, you fall asleep against the tree trunk, ankle-deep in the lake water with Peaches napping a few feet to your left. There is a book in your lap, but you forgot where you were minutes ago when your eyes began to grow heavy.

When you wake, the cool of night has taken over and the moon casts a shadow against the lake. Your toes are wrinkled and your horse is restless, but you know you must wait until later to go back. Others will spot you if you leave too soon.

You return to your novel, but your concentration is broken when Peaches begins to neigh and whinny, her eyes off in the distance. You grab the knife you stashed in your satchel, unsheathing it as you get ready to use it.

“Slow down, Princess,” the smooth voice speaks and your heart breaks all over again, “it’s just me.”

“Get away from me!” you shout, shoving the knife in his direction. “Do you not understand?”

“I understand that you’re hurt,” Sweet Pea takes a delicate step forward, his hands in the air. “What I don’t understand, is why.”

“I am not beholden to you, Prince,” you shout. The knife shakes in your hand. “I do not owe you an explanation and neither do you deserve one!”

“Darling,” his voice is sad, heavy, “please don’t do this. Please talk to me.”

“You don’t deserve me,” you shake your head. You swallow thickly, tears forming in your eyes and dripping down your cheeks. “You don’t deserve to have me beholden to you on behalf of your people. You got what you wanted, and now I am your slave!”

“Princess, I don’t know what you speak of. I don’t understand. Please help me to understand.”

You can’t help it that your heart softens at the sight of him. His eyes are so deep, his hands so inviting. You miss his hugs, you miss him holding you around the shoulders and burying a kiss in your hair.

“Please put down the knife,” he implores you, his voice breaking. “You don’t want to hurt me, I know that. I know you’re hurting, but you don’t want to hurt me. That is not who you are.”

“You don’t know me!” You snap, gripping the knife even harder. “You never knew me! You used me to get what you wanted, to get what your kingdom needed and then you began your own personal affairs. Why shouldn’t I run you through right here, right now?!”

“For one, that knife is too small to run me through. You would cause some damage, but you wouldn’t kill me.” Sweet Pea takes another step forward and daringly wraps your wrist in his fingers, slowly prying the weapon from your hand. “You’re hurting, please let me help you.”

“I don’t want your help,” you whimper feebly. You shake your head, tears still falling, “I want to be free of this burden.”

“What burden, darling?” Sweet Pea asks as he tosses the knife across the meadow. “Please help me to understand. I’ve missed you.”

“Do not lie to me,” you seethe through your teeth. You glare up at him, “Do not pretend that you do not occupy another’s bed. I gave you that chamber as a gift, and you dare flaunt it in my face?”

“Another’s-wh-what?” Sweet Pea flounders to put the pieces together as your sadness chips away to anger. It builds in your stomach, a fire being stoked in your belly. The heat crawls up your spine and flushes your cheeks.

“Did you ever think that we could love each other, Pea?” Your tough facade finally breaks and you let a sob seep out of your mouth. “I thought that I could push past the lack of natural love born between two people and see that I had to fulfill duties for my kingdom. I thought that I could learn to love you, that I could be okay with our arrangement. I thought that-”

You lick your lips and look up at him, meeting his glassy eyes with your own. You stand strong, shoulders square and jaw defined, “Was any of it real, Sweets? Any of the conversations and the hand-holding and the secret-confiding?! Or did you string me along until you no longer needed me? Was I but a means to an end?”

“What are you talking about?!” Sweet Pea grasps you by the shoulders, holding you square in front of him. “All I’ve ever done is love you!”

“Don’t lie! Do not lie or I will have you beheaded for it.”

Sweet Pea’s lips part in a cry and he drops down to his knees in front of you. He grips the backs of your thighs in desperation, tears of his own traveling a path down his cheeks and dripping onto the ground below.

“I’ve never lied to you,” he speaks. “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that I was beholden to you, even if not of my own volition. My heart took one look at you and decided that you were the end for me. I would die by your side, chained to you at the soul.”

Sweet Pea ducks his head against your stomach, burying his face into the fabric of your dress. He sniffles, and when he speaks his voice is muffled by the clothing, “I tried my hardest to keep from loving you because I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t love me back, but the more time I spent with you, the harder I began to fall.”

Looking up at you, he continues, “I fell and I fell and I fell and then we were wed. I wanted to kiss you so feverishly that day, but I had to restrain myself because I knew you did not love me. How could you? I came into your kingdom, stole your hand in marriage, and forced you into a life of captivity. You are a free spirit, unable to be tied down by anyone, even me. I could not bear it if I was the reason that you felt chained.”

The rawness of his voice makes your soul ache and you cannot stop the tears as they fall relentlessly down your cheeks. He takes a short, labored breath and continues on bearing his heart to you.

“I wanted you to love me so badly that I wanted to propose to you like a proper lover,” he admits quietly. “I-I wanted to give you my own ring, a ring I received from my great grandmother.”

Sweet Pea withdraws a ring from his pocket, producing a simple gemstone slotted against a silver band in front of your eyes. Your lip trembles and you stutter, “B-But Sarah-”

“It all makes sense now.”

He laughs, standing to his feet, “I was practicing on Sarah. I needed to run through my speech before I went to the castle to speak to you. I had a whole evening planned. I made us a picnic basket to take to the lake - I even helped Janie in the kitchen to cook your favorite tarts.”

Pea’s face falls as he turns the ring in his fingers, “And then I found out that you were banishing me, refusing to see anyone. A piece of my soul died that day when you refused to let me in.”

You reach up to cup his cheeks in your hands, “You were going to propose to me? After we’d already been wed?”

“I know it’s foolish,” he admits, “but I wanted us to have our own story. And I love you.”

Fresh tears surface and you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close to you. You swallow thickly and sniffle before whispering, “I love you too, Pea. I-I’m so sorry I didn’t come to you before.”

“Doesn’t matter now, my love,” he nudges his nose along your jawline, leaving a fire everywhere he touches. “All I need to ask you now is…”

Sweet Pea drops to one knee, the ring in his hand. Before he can muster up the words, you’re tackling him to the ground and kissing him senseless.

Your lips are on his relentlessly. His hands hesitate, but soon he is gripping you by the hips and kissing you back with fervor. Your teeth knock together but you don’t care how sloppy this kiss is. It is long overdue.

“I want to be your life partner,” Pea whispers against your neck, kissing over the hot flesh there. He drags his tongue and teeth down your shoulder to your collarbone, murmuring along the way. “I want to stand by your side and see you as my equal. I want you to be mine, body, soul, mind. I want every piece of you.”

You gasp as his teeth are bared against your skin, sending a shock of excitement down your spine. He smirks with his lips still at the crook of your jaw, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Your hands are in his hair, bringing him back to your lips so you can kiss him again. It’s deeper this time, and you wonder if you’ll ever want to come back up for air.

Thankfully, you have the rest of your life to figure it out.

[dmitri-smerdyakov]

Most Definitely a Scamander - a Newt/Tina + Rolf fic

Tagging: @pinkdiamonddolphin

a/n: The two sections of this fic take place at different points – close together but not on the same day. Hope that clears up any confusion!

Summary: “I mean, you have freckles and…and my awfully untidy hair… I’m afraid you’re most definitely a Scamander, whether you like it or not.” (Or: Newt and Tina comforting their grandson Rolf)

The afternoon sun was warm and lovely; there was the sound of children chattering and laughing, and all of the Scamander and Kowalski grandchildren were playing together quite blissfully.

All except for one, that was.

Rolf wiped his nose on his sleeve, not caring that his mother said it was ‘dirty’, and pushed himself against the back of his grandmother’s favourite chair; she usually sat here with the Kneazles, stroking them while she read a book or smiling fondly while she knitted something – she would make room for him on her lap though sometimes, if he wanted a cuddle with her. Currently his grandmother was outside with the rest of the family, probably talking to her sister, and he didn’t want to disturb her with his bad thoughts; it would be unkind to ruin her afternoon.

Zippy, the youngest of his grandmother’s Kneazles, hopped up on the armrest and nudged his head against the boy’s; Rolf stroked him behind the ears, still not feeling better when he purred happily. Usually petting his grandparents’ magical creatures made him feel happy and pleased – but his heart just wasn’t in it today.

He was so caught up in his sadness that he didn’t notice his Nana Tina entering the room – he only realized when she stopped in front of the chair, looking rather worried.

“Rolf, dear, what’s the matter?”

He sniffled, shaking his head. “’m f-f-fine, Nana.”

“You’re crying,” She corrected, and she put a hand on his knee. “Oh, come here – come and tell me what’s got you so upset.”

Rolf suddenly reached out for her, crying into her shoulder when she lifted him up into her arms; he was young and still rather small for his age, thankfully, otherwise it might have been a tad more difficult. Tina shushed him gently, sitting down so that she could settle him on her lap as she listened.

“I’m…” He sniffled, shaking his head. “I’m odd.”

“Odd?” Tina repeated, looking somewhat confused. “What makes you say that?”

“People say stuff,” He told her miserably, not meeting her eye. “They say mean stuff ‘cause I’m…’cause ‘m darker than everyone else.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “That doesn’t make you ‘odd’ at all, Rolf, I promise.”

“But…But…” A few tears tricked down his face. “The other children…they make fun of me ‘cause I’m darker, a-and…and they said that…”

Oh, Tina had heard some of the things said about Rolf; he was the youngest of their grandchildren, a surprise given that their son Leo hadn’t been planning on children, but still very much loved and adored. She’d seen some of the things written in the papers by journalists, however – it was mostly lies fabricated for the sake of drama, lies that so-called ‘famous author’ Newt Scamander was disappointed that his son had married a woman he’d met on his travels in Nigeria, that Rolf was quite literally the ‘black hippogriff of the family’. Fabricated stories of themselves, Newt and Tina both found funny to some degree because of the ridiculousness of them – but ones about their grandchildren were, of course, crossing the line and extremely inappropriate.

“You don’ love me as much as the others!” Rolf cried, fingers clutching at her clothes.

“Don’t be silly,” Tina sighed, rubbing his back with soothing circles in the hopes of calming him down. “We love you very much – just as much as the others. Your skin has nothing to do with anything.”

He pushed his face against her collarbone, shoulders shaking. “No, you don’t…’cause I’m darker than everyone else, ‘cause ‘m not like Bram or Mari or the others-”

“Rolf, dear, look at me,” Tina interrupted steadily, and she waited until he lifted his eyes to her. “You’re no different to Bram, Mari and the others, not in that way at least – you’re all wonderful in your own ways, and we wouldn’t trade any of you for anything… You’re just like your grandfather too, you know.”

He wiped his nose on his sleeve again, looking rather unconvinced. “How?”

“Well…for one thing, you’ve both got the unruliest hair I’ve ever seen,” She teased fondly, and he let a giggle slip when she mussed his hair. “And you both love magical creatures – I think Zippy, especially, is very taken with you...”

The Kneazle mewled in agreement, watching from his perch on the armrest as his tail flicked happily. Rolf was smiling somewhat sheepishly.

“You’re covered in freckles, just like your Grandpa Newt,” Tina continued affectionately, and he laughed quietly when she bopped his freckled nose. “And, to add, I love the both of you very much.”

“Oh, I love you too, Nana!” Rolf announced, throwing his arms around her.

She was beaming affectionately as she embraced him, squeezing tightly. “I know you do, Rolf. Now, don’t forget what I’ve told you: no matter what anyone else tells you, me and Grandpa Newt love you very much – and nothing will ever change that.”

Rolf was sat on the bed, as expected, back against the wall and face buried into his pillow as he cried loudly. Newt sighed before walking into the room, wondering what he could say that could possibly make the situation any better.

The next person he heard implying that Rolf was different or unwanted because he was “coloured” would be hexed, he vowed – Tina was still rather handy with those kinds of spells, after all, and he was certain that she’d have no problems whatsoever hexing such people.

“Rolf,” He muttered, tucking his hands into his trousers as he debated what to say.

He didn’t need to; his grandson looked up, face tear-stained, and reached out his arms for some kind of comfort. Newt immediately scooped the boy into an embrace, settling on the edge of the bed as he cradled him; the tears soon started again, sobs muffled by the fabric of the Magizoologist’s shirt, and he waited patiently.

It wasn't fair, Rolf cried to him, tiny shoulders shaking; it wasn’t fair that he was the odd one out, that he didn’t fit because his mother was black and he was considerably darker-skinned than his cousins. He wanted to be normal, he told his grandfather miserably, shaking his head: he wanted to fit in with the rest of the family, wanted to stop having people stare at him like he was an animal in a zoo because he was different.

Eventually Rolf’s sobs quietened down into hiccups, and Newt gave a heavy sigh as he rubbed at his grandson’s back. “I know that you’re very upset – and I’m very angry that someone implied…well, they don’t matter,” He stated firmly. “I know what it’s like to not fit in; I was considered strange when I was younger too…I still am in some ways, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry,” Rolf mumbled, giving a loud sniffle. “I’m sorry I’m not white like you and Nana and Daddy and everyone else.”

No child deserved to be made to feel that way – it was awful, and his heart felt heavy inside of his chest. “Don’t be silly,” Newt tutted, fishing in his waistcoat pocket for something he could use to dry the tears from the child’s face. “There’s no need to be sorry at all – the ones who say things, now they’re the ones who should be sorry, not you.”

“I…I don’t fit in,” Rolf said unhappily, still pressed close to his grandfather. “I don’t look like a Scamander, that’s what someone said.”

“Now, that is ridiculous,” Newt scoffed in disbelief. “Why, you’re every inch a Scamander, I can assure you – while I’m not sure that’s something to be particularly thrilled about, I can tell you that you’re most definitely a part of this family. I mean, you have freckles and…and my awfully untidy hair… I’m afraid you’re most definitely a Scamander, whether you like it or not.”

They were both silent for a few minutes as Rolf calmed down, wiping his eyes but not moving from his perch on Newt’s knee; it was only when he’d finished drying his tears that he seemed to slump a bit, relaxing tiredly in his grandfather’s arms.

“Nana Tina said I’m like you,” Rolf muttered quietly, looking down at his hands.

“Hmm. Funny that,” Newt mused, grinning to himself. “I’ve always thought that you’re like your Nana Tina actually.”

His grandson looked puzzled by this admission. “How? I don’t look like Nana or do any of the stuff that she likes to do.”

“Well…you have her eyes,” Newt stated fondly. “Big brown eyes – and you smile exactly like her, Rolf.”

“I…I do?”

“Oh, yes,” The Magizoologist chuckled, patting the boy’s unruly hair. “Your Nana Tina has the most radiant and wonderful smile I’ve ever seen; when she really smiles, you know it because it makes you feel warm and loved – you have that same smile. Let me think now…ah, yes, you’re both very stubborn too, and – though she won’t admit it – very….ticklish!”

His grandson giggled as long fingers suddenly started to tickle at his belly, clearly trying to distract and cheer him up. “S-S-Stop, Grandpa!”

Newt grinned, pulling his hands away. “Alright, alright. Now, I think it’s time you got some rest, my lad – we’ve got an early start with the Graphorns tomorrow.”

Rolf pouted but gave a nod anyway, allowing his grandfather to tuck him underneath the blanketsl his eyes were wide as he examined Newt, curious. “Grandpa? You and Nana…you really love me as much as the others? You’re not saying that to make me feel better?”

“Of course we love you – just as much as the others,” Newt agreed fondly – though he didn’t dare say it aloud, his grandson was just like Tina in that they were both rather insecure in some ways. “Don’t worry, Rolf – after all, worrying means-”

“-you suffer twice,” Rolf yawned, closing his eyes and rolling onto his side. “I know, I know. G’ night, Grandpa Newt.”

Perhaps Tina was right ��� perhaps Rolf was more like him than he had thought.

I had no idea on Scamander grandchildren names (shrugs) Bram means ‘raven’ and Mari is short for ‘Mariposa’ which apparently means ‘butterfly’ (it has Spanish roots?) So, yeah, not sure if I’ll stick with these names, just used them for now. I’m also unsure as to which of my Scamander kids had children of their own (other than Leo, who is Rolf’s daddy in my fics).

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