#me and my siblings have long ago learnt to laugh and brush it off and make a joke out of it

[evansbby]

.

[rebellconquerer]

hi, I don’t know if your inbox is still open for requests,if not that’s completely fine :). If so, I would like to request “Fuck, I need a drink to deal with you.” For Bucky x Sarah. Thank you.

It's a little long and a little different from my other bits of writing, less cute, more character study but I hope you still like it anon! Cross posted to AO3

She watches them get out of the truck, loud and boisterous in that way she's learnt means that they're ok. She knows they've been back stateside for several days already, spending extended time at the base in DC while Sam trains Torres and James continues his cross-country journey training special forces personnel. Hell, she had even video chatted with them but there is some part of her that does not settle, cannot settle, until she can touch them and see for herself that they are safe.

"You're a menace Buck, you know that right? Is it something about the 40s that made you and Steve like this or did the two of you find each other because everyone else saw how fucking crazy you were?" Sam asks, voice light with laughter.

Sarah watches the easy line of James' shoulders as he reaches into the back for his duffle, she can tell a lot about the headspace he's in based solely off of how he holds himself. She's had to learn his little tells because he still doesn't talk as much as she'd like.

"I trained with 12-year-old Dora's that were more impressive than this asshole and that was practically their after school program. It's not my fault he took exception to that comparison." James replies, glaring mockingly at Sam. She can tell they've been having whatever conversation this is for a while.

"You know if you keep breaking their soldiers the US military isn't going to continue inviting you back." Sam's smirk is playful though, clearly harassing James more for the sake of the harassment than out of any actual concern.

"Thank-fucking-Christ. See if I miss them." James grumbles, turning to face her with his duffle draped over his shoulders.

She is moving towards them before she consciously tells her feet to go. She isn't some damsel left behind though, so there will be no running and leaping into his arms, no matter how much she may want that. Instead, she strolls casually out her front door and down her porch steps with her arms tucked safely in her pockets, face excited, but in a cool and controlled way.

She watches as his smile broadens into a grin at the sight of her and her cool and controlled expression fails immediately as she grins back at him.

Sam makes a retching sound somewhere to the right of her but she isn't paying him any attention, thank you very much.

"Welcome back." She manages around her smile, technically to both of them but she's staring at James.

"Thank you, kind sister. You know it was a really rough couple of weeks, but it's the support of family that really holds us togeth- oh Christ, just kiss him already. It's not like watching the two of you make eyes at each other is any better." Sam ends in an exasperated mutter.

She chuckles lightly, her eyes darting around James' face, taking in the familiar blue of his eyes along with the healing bruises high on his left cheek. Her brother occasionally has good ideas.

He drops his bag on the dew-wet grass of the early morning and is reaching for her as she stretches up slightly to meet his soft, chapped lips.

"Sam, is it very hard being Captain America and having to stop white panther over there from doing stupid shit every ten minutes? As a matter of fact, yes, it is. Thank you for asking, sister of mine." Sam's voice grumbles as he moves away from them towards the front door.

His solo conversation forces a huff of laughter from her lips. It's become one of her favourite things, laughing into James' mouth. She pulls away from him, feeling sorted for the first time in weeks.

"Hi Sam! How are you? It's been so long since I last spoke to you 10 hours ago." She says brightly.

She watches the back of Sam's headshake ruefully as he keeps walking away from them and hears James pick back up his bag as he begins strolling lazily beside her.

"What's all this, then?" Sam asks as he gets to the porch, looking down at the three boxes piled outside.

"I'm not sure. It came last night. It's for you." She says with a small twist, turning to face James.

He raises his eyebrows in surprised confusion.

"For me? And it came here?" He questions.

Sam leans over, grabbing the still-sealed envelope off the top of the boxes.

"It came 'Care of Captain America' but yeah, it's for you." She says easily, hopping up the steps in one go and turning to lean her hip against the old wooden railing.

"Do you mind?" Sam asks James, already moving to open the envelope. James shakes his head, leaning on a post on the other side of the staircase.

Sam's eyes scan quickly back and forth over the letter before his mouth narrows into a small frown.

"It's from the Smithsonian." He finally says, handing the letter over to James.

"The Smithsonian?" James mumbles, taking the letter and she watches his expression freeze then go utterly blank as he reads it.

"Why is the Smithsonian writing to you?" She asks with concern.

Neither answer her for a moment just long enough that she starts to feel genuine concern.

"Dear Sergeant Barnes," James begins to read, pausing to clear his throat.

By the end of the sentence, James' voice has just the barest hints of a wobble.

"My name is Eloise Lambert and I have been the lead curator and researcher behind the Captain America and the Howling Commandos exhibit for nearly 40 years. I understand this must seem a drop in the hat to you, but it has represented my life's work. While I cannot begin to understand what it must be like to find out strangers have been heavily involved in the study of your life while you were still living it, please forgive me the eccentricities of an old woman to tell you that you were always my favourite.

During the initial stages of the creation of the exhibit in Washington and at its sister sites, several pieces of memorabilia were gifted to the institution by your family. In the intervening years, through research and the continued graciousness of your siblings, we have amassed quite an impressive list of items from your pre-war life. Additionally, in the often hard and lonely years that followed the blip, Captain Rogers also donated several items related to both your lives. It is my belief, however, that he gave us these items in good faith, believing you were permanently gone.

In the aftermath of the returns and the continued examination of the cultural damage that can be wrought by museums, especially with the years of discourse that followed the attack on The Museum of Great Britain, the Smithsonian has wrestled with what to do with the pieces that we have that are not fit for public showing. It is my honest belief that not only would your family and Captain Rogers want you to have these items, but that good morality compels us to return them to you. This endeavour has turned out to be harder than initially anticipated as though I am assured you returned after the blip, no one seems to know quite how to find you. With our continued efforts to locate you failing, and possible sightings of you with Captain America, we have decided to send these items to Captain Wilson in the hopes that they will eventually find their way to you.

Time is a cruel mistress, and as I approach the end of my life, the meaningfulness of old memories has become increasingly clear. I hope this has remained true for you as well, even through your painful but most extraordinary journey, however, should these items bring more pain than happy remembrance, please feel free to return them. The appropriate address is enclosed below."

He looks down at the unassuming boxes with the same carefully blank look on his face.

"Well… that's unexpected." He finally says, looking over at her with questioning eyes.

James drops to his knees, pulling one of the boxes to him at random and opening it gently. He lets out a soft breath as he pulls out the object on top.

Sarah strays closer, looking over his shoulder. It's a framed photograph of him in his military uniform, smiling easily at something behind the camera and in the right lower corner, held in place by some kind of cloth housing, is a small medal.

"Holy shit. Is that a Silver Star, Buck?" Sam asks, stooping down beside James whose thumb brushes reverently over the frame.

"Yeah," James says, voice cracking a little but a small smile curving his lips. "They gave it to me after Azzano, when I got back from Austria… the first time Zola…" he drifts off, glancing over at Sam.

The first time he had been captured. The first time he had been experimented on.

"I had sent it to my ma. They'd sent her a letter listing me as missing and presumed captured. Becca said she'd spent every spare minute she had in the pews at St. Leo's." He huffs out a small laugh, eyes going unfocused. "So I sent her the star and the picture in my next letter, as an apology."

Both Sarah and Sam are quiet, unsure what to say. A moment later James seems to shake the fog away and pushes the photo back into the box, standing abruptly.

"I'm gonna grab a shower, get cleaned up before the boys wake up." He mutters, old Brooklyn accent seeping in around the edges to soften his consonants, the way it always seems to when he gets lost in his past.

Sam stands slowly, making eye contact with her for a second before she steps up beside James.

"Are you ok?" She asks lowly.

He pushes the open box to the side of the door with his foot, then leans in and drops a quick kiss on her cheek.

"I'm good. Honest. I'll come back to it." He replies, shouldering his bag and stepping inside. She turns to look at Sam. He just shrugs and follows James into the house.

**********************************

The rest of the day continues like every one of her weekends since she began to be called mom more often than Sarah.

AJ wakes first and is downstairs pulling out dishes and mixing bowls for her because 'weekend mornings mean pancakes, mom!'

Then he's in the living room, TV on, watching whatever cartoon is his latest obsession. This month it's Clone Wars.

Sam comes down next, surprising AJ who hadn't noticed the truck in the driveway or the shoes by the entrance, so he's folded into the mandatory cartoons.

Cass is a late sleeper. Will sleep till the early afternoon if left to his own devices usually, but if Sam is AJs favourite adult, James is Cass's, so she's not all that surprised to see him at James' elbow when he does come downstairs in grey sweats and an old, soft-looking graphic T proclaiming Wakanda Forever. Bucky wanders into the kitchen, Cass right behind him and sets up to help with breakfast.

So the morning goes, with laughter and sticky spills and chocolate chips, until Sarah all but forgets about the boxes heavy with history sitting on her porch. It's not until much later, when the dishes are already washed and packed away, loads of laundry completed and her eyes tired from staring at income and expense spreadsheets from the restaurant, that she realises she hasn't seen hide nor hair of James and his shadow in some time.

Needing a break from excel, Sarah stretches languidly, feeling the bones in her back pop and realign before she stands, strolling through the house to find them. She hears the soft murmur of James' voice and the gentle cadence of Cass asking questions coming from the porch.

The door is propped open, only the screen door closed, so she can see them from the entryway and she has to stop to take it in for a moment. They are sitting on the floor, Cass in between James' outstretched legs with his back curved into James' chest, going through one of his boxes from the Smithsonian.

"And what about this?" Cass asks, pulling out a piece of ancient-looking folded paper.

"You tell me," James replies softly, unfolding the delicate age stained paper, hand over hand with Cass.

"Um, it's another letter. From Ruth?"

"My youngest sister,” James mumbles. “What does it say?"

"De-dearest James,” Cass begins to read. “I was so ple-ple-as-"

"Pleased," James corrects lightly.

"Pleased to read your most re-recent letter. We are so glad that you are away from the front for the next few weeks… what does that mean? Front of what?" Cass asks, turning to look up at James, whose eyes are sombre but kind, seemingly unable to look away from the old words.

"It means where the fighting was during the war."

Sarah stands watching the easy care James takes with her son and feels like she can't catch her breath. He's not doing it for her, she knows. He is sitting and sharing his life with her child, going over his reading with him, solely because he wants to. Because Cass wants to be near to him. She moves her hand to her chest, rubbing absently, trying to work out the heavy feeling that has settled over her heart.

"Why didn't she want you to fight? You're really good at it." Cass says with the carelessness of the young.

James hums consideringly, going through the rest of the letters in the batch in his hand. "I wasn't as good at it then, and she was worried about me."

She chooses that moment to join them. "What're ya'll up to out here?" She asks, coming to sit cross-legged on the other side of the boxes.

James looks up at her, eyes lighter than she expects, and smiles. "Just going through them, you know," he replies. She wants to ask if he is ok, if he needs time or space or any of the 20 other things she could probably come up with but thinks it might be better to just let him be.

She reaches into the box in front of her and comes out with another stack of papers. She gently pulls them apart then freezes. They're copies of his enlistment documents. The top right-hand corner of one has a faded, black and white photo of a man, barely more than a boy really, with familiar blue eyes but no hint of the darkness James carries.

"Bucky Barnes I presume." She says softly, holding the picture out to him.

Cass' little hands pull James' arm down to his level as he takes the photo so he can see too.

"That's not you!" Cass says, scrunching up his nose.

James makes a face and looks down at him askance.

"And why not?"

Cass shrugs. "You look so old now"

James absolutely cackles at that. Head thrown back, hand over his heart. Sarah tries to stifle her own laugh and look disapprovingly at Cass. Nothing beats the open honesty of the innocent.

"Real vicious, kid. I think I look ok for 106." He finally gets out.

Cass seems unimpressed, scrambling away from James to poke at another box as Sam’s head appears around the front door.

"What's going on out here? Grandpa is laughing?"

James just shrugs.

"Your nephew is speaking truth to power," Sarah replies with a smirk. James gives her a baleful glare while Sam takes in the scene around them, giving Sarah a significant look that she can't really read.

"Is this you too, Uncle Buck?" Cass asks, holding up a sketchbook.

Sarah looks over to see an impressive likeness of a young James in side profile, a small smile curving his lips as a thin cigarette dangles from the corner of his mouth.

James nods, holding his hand out for the sketchbook as a grin overtakes his face. Sam comes to sit, dropping down heavily beside her as Sarah switches to laying on her stomach, head perched on her hands. James places the dog eared book on the floor between them.

Cass scrunches up his nose again. "Is that a cigarette? Those are bad!"

James nods, looking up as Cass comes to lean heavily against his shoulder. "You're right but gimme a break. It was 1938. We didn't know that yet."

Sarah reaches out and flips through the book. There are drawings of the view from a fire escape at different times of day with the vague outlines of people coming and going, a few of a young woman with old, old eyes and a lot of sketches of James. Sometimes just bits and pieces of him, how his eyes look happy or sad or tired. His hands holding a cigarette or a beer or fixing things. Some are whole body portraits, from James in a full suit to him in nothing but an undershirt and trousers, his suspenders hanging off his shoulders.

The last few pages have several drawings of a delicate-looking young man who’s almost pretty, soft hair and a pointed chin, but with eyes that blaze.

"Who's that?" She asks.

James gets a complicated look on his face, wrapping an arm around Cass's small frame.

"Portrait of the artist as a young man." He whispers.

"No shit," Sam says softly, reaching to twist the book more towards himself. Sarah is so shocked she doesn't even remember to yell at Sam about his language.

She stares down at the image. She's seen the hologram of Captain America before the serum in museums, like everyone else, but it's always the same image: him in some military clothes with an ill-fitted helmet on, before it slides into that famous shot of him, almost 6 and a half feet of righteous fury. She studies the picture some more. She thinks she can see it, see him, in the curve of his mouth and the intensity in his gaze. She supposes America doesn't want the world reminded of the small boy behind one of the greatest symbols of 'American Exceptionalism'. She doesn't really know much about the man that Steve Rogers was. She never particularly cared for what he represented. She wonders now if he even liked what he came to be seen as.

"And the woman? She's in here a lot too." Sam asks.

James smiles crookedly. "His ma. Her name was Sarah."

When Sarah's sharp eyes flick to him, he's already looking at her, smile widening minutely before he sighs.

"She died a month after my 18th. TB. Money got even tighter after that. Eventually moved with him into a tiny little apartment near Red Hook, let my Ma rent out my room at home. Anything for a buck, you know."

Cass gets bored with the conversation and wanders back inside, probably to harass his brother.

Sarah looks at her namesake, trying to wrap her mind around this whole other life that James has lived. She flips through the pages again. By far the most common subject is James, the lines of him traced with familiarity and clearly with love. Sarah flicks her eyes up to James who is watching her quietly.

“Ask” he commands.

She makes a face. “What? I don’t know what you-”

“Just ask, Sarah.” he interrupts, eyes playful. She looks back down at the drawings, unable to resist trailing her fingers lightly along the charcoal lines.

“Well… I mean there are a lot of drawings of you here… were you two ever-”

“No,” he says with a put upon smile.

“Hey! You told me to ask! I didn’t even get to finish my question!” she chuckles. James rolls his eyes heavenward.

“God, I need a drink to deal with you,” he mumbles. Sarah pouts and Sam also starts to laugh. “You think you’re the first person to ask if I was sleeping with Captain America? God, if I had a nickel every time someone asked me, I’d be a millionaire.”

Sam shrugs. “Man, if I had a nickel every time someone asked me if you were sleeping with Steve, I’d be a millionaire.”

Bucky laughs at that. It takes him a minute to settle down.

"Steve got real sick winter of '37. Didn't really shake it for the rest of the next year. Would get a couple of good weeks then his breathing was shit again. Spent most of the year in bed. Couldn’t manage to do too much but draw… didn't have too many models though. So it was what he could see from the window and well… me. I think the priest came to the house 3 or 4 times that year.” he trails off, eyes seeming to stare past the sketches.

“Priest?” she asks.

Bucky nods, leaning back against the house. “Steve's ma was real religious. Wouldn'ta let us live it down if Steve passed without last rights. It was touch and go a few times.”

They’re all silent for a bit after that, letting it sink in. She looks back down at the drawings, how much they seem like they are about to start moving, how well they seem to capture James’ essence.

“He loved you though, you can’t draw someone like that without a lot of love.” She whispers looking up to see Sam and James share a look.

“Steve loved… hard,” Sam replies. James nods.

“Could be real irritable about it, but yeah. His pa died when he was real little. Ma never remarried. Between Steve being so sickly and his ma being a single mother, things were rough. My parents owned a little deli. Wasn’t much but it meant we were doing a lot better for a lot longer than a lot of people until we weren’t.” James says with a shrug. Sarah barely breathes, she’s never heard him talk about his past so freely.

“We lived in the same building. My ma had a real bleeding heart. Came over from Italy as a teenager… I don’t think she ever forgot how people looked at her in the beginning when her accent was real strong.” he scoffs. “Never forgot being run out of her own country either. Didn’t much take to what other people thought. Helped out whenever she could, practically adopted them. There were times when things got bad, I was all he had.” James eventually finishes.

She supposes she can see it then, why Steve Rogers risked his life, risked his freedom, to get James back. Sam just nods slowly, like he’s heard it all before. Hell, he probably has. Sam pulls the last unopened box to him and starts carefully going through it as Sarah relaxes in the gentle breeze in the early afternoon.

“Damn. Didn’t think they’d give this back.” Sam says, pulling a dusty old leather case with a glass front out. He flips the case open slowly, turning it to face James who lets out a quiet release of breath.

Sarah frowns. It’s a medal of some kind, but she doesn’t recognize it. “What is that?”

Sam looks at her, his face very solemn. “It’s a medal of honour. Highest military award you get. A lot of times posthumously.”

James takes the medal, looking down at it with wonder. “I’d never seen it,” he says softly. “Steve said it was Peggy who made sure we both got them. Wanted the world to know that we died for something even if no one could be told exactly what. I don’t even know who it was presented to." James stares at the small medallion with an expression of adoration on his face.

A moment later there is a loud crash from inside the house followed by a suspicious silence. Sarah moves to stand but Sam waves her off, standing first to go investigate.

James leans back against the wall, just staring at the small medallion while Sarah watches him. He's occasionally so much more than she expects and yet still so very human.

"You are handling all this a lot better than I expected you to." She says, unable to keep the thought in.

James pauses. "Honestly, I don't think I ever expected to get any of these things back, and I certainly never expected to have anyone to share all this with." He replies, looking at her with such deep affection, she has to look away.

"Can I ask another question that may make you uncomfortable?"

"You literally asked me if I was fucking my best friend 10 minutes ago, I don't think anything is off the table." He replies with a small smirk and a head tilt. She huffs out a quiet laugh at that.

"How come more things from this century don't seem to… shock you? No 'for coloured only signs', gay marriage, interracial dating… “ she adds, pointing between the two of them. "Most people your age have pretty set opinions on a lot of those things. "

He frowns, tilting his head in that way that she knows means she has shocked him.

"Where's this coming from?"

She shrugs, reaching for one of the small piles of letters littering the floor between them. If she's honest it's a thought she's had before, but always assumed it had something to do with him not being fully unaware of the passage of time given the intermittent awakenings of the Soldier, or the fact that he'd basically been kept as property himself. She'd never felt entirely comfortable asking before, but this James, the one who reads his old letters to her son, seems so much more like an open book than ever before.

"Just… being reminded that you really were born in 1917 and the world of your youth looked very very different." Is what she chooses to say.

James seems to think for a minute and she appreciates that. Appreciates him trying to give her an answer that feels honest to him.

"A strong man who has known power all his life may lose respect for that power, but a weak man knows the value of it. Erskine said that to Steve before he gave him the serum. Steve was fond of that quote." He says quietly.

She frowns.

"Not to call you out James but this guy might have been a few pounds lighter than you but I don't know if anyone would call him weak." She replies holding up the enrollment form with his picture.

He shakes his head, digging into the box in front of him and pulling out another old frame with an ancient-looking sepia portrait, colour bleeding at edges. He hands it to her.

She looks down at it. It's a family. Woman, man, four children. Taken in that old-timey way that you only ever see in horror movies these days. James looks like he's maybe 16 or 17. It's truly stunning.

"This is them, isn't it? Your whole family." She asks. He nods, looking down at his hands.

"You know how I said, my ma came over from Italy?"

"Yeah"

"Well she did, but her first language wasn't Italian. It was Romani."

"Romani?" Sarah asks with a frown, she doesn't think she's heard of that before.

"They used to call them gypsies. Weren't real popular in the US. Neither in Europe. She'd spent a lot of her life afraid simply for being born what she was, but she was proud and tough and unwilling to be afraid anymore. She wasn't going to let any of us forget her roots. Wasn't going to allow any of us to turn into bullies."

Sarah stares at the faded photo focusing on the woman.

"What was her name?" She questions.

"Maria." He replies, voice soft.

She looks tiny next to the man in the photo, a dainty little thing with full lips set in a stubborn looking line and proud eyes. She can see the resemblance to James though, can trace the lines of his features in her face.

"She sounds like an amazing woman," Sarah says looking up, surprised to find James studying her with almost the same intensity that she was studying the photo.

"Yeah… I seem to know a lot of those." He replies, with a strange, crooked little smile.

She blushes at that, feeling heat spread along her face and down the line of her throat at the unexpected compliment. She holds his gaze though, lets the moment sit between them warm and heavy somewhere in her chest as the bird songs continue and the wind rustles through the trees. For a moment, sitting amongst the ancient memories that helped create this impossible man, time finally seems to pause in deference to them.

[sleephyjhs]

You’re Their Assigned Wife (REACTION)

all members are included under the ‘keep reading’ link

notes: this is based off the k-reality ‘we got married’ where a male and female idol spent time as a ‘married’ couple, i’m sure y’all know it

rules | m.list | requested by @agapeew

KSJ

One of your mid-week tasks to complete with Seokjin was to make some traditional kimchi, and before you had started, you were already excited. Actually, you found it quite coincidental that this would be assigned to you. When the cameras were off, Seokjin had led a bored atmosphere into an in-depth conversation about food. You learnt quickly that it was just one of his better traits; always feeling the need to lighten the mood.

To spread the added seasonings evenly, you’d poured the masses of chopped vegetables into a larger bowl of the floor. He slid his hands into plastic gloves and used all the strength of his arms to begin to churn the contents. As Seokjin began to act as a human whisk, you added additional ingredients to enhance the seasoning you’d already added. Picking up two chopsticks, you selected a small radish slice and fed it to him, “How is it?”

His playful moaning and emphasised nodding earned a chuckle from you. However as you were laughing at his honest reaction, you noticed his face begin to fall and almost twist in agitation. You watched as his arms begin to slow in their process, and so reached for the box of gloves to help him out, “You don’t need to worry, I’m okay!”

You frowned and swatted the air to make him remove his hands, “It’s fine, let me have a go.” He retracted his hand from the bowl and you plunged yours in their place. As you continued to stir, you looked up habitually to see Seokjin smiling, seemingly adoring you, “What?”

Seokjin’s smile softened as you picked up on his diverted attention, “You’re just... sweet,” you puffed a strand of hair away from your eyes, and watched it continue to fall back down as you pondered on his words. The rustling of his glove led to an uncovered hand reaching out for your face. As you paused in your churning, Seokjin pushed the loose hair behind your ear and admired your blushing cheeks, “There you go. Shall I have a turn now?”

MYG

As mildly introverted people, it had taken a little more than a few hours to fully open yourself to Yoongi’s company, more particularly to make any conversation you shared less awkward. After reverting back to childhood memories and a mutual love of the same films, Yoongi was quickly warming up to your presence.

It was strange to have to fake romance with another idol, especially with so many cameras. Kindling chemistry made your task much easier. Several days into your ‘marriage’, it was clearly time to shop for food items and other essentials, and as hesitant as he seemed, you were determined to make shopping as enjoyable for Yoongi as you could.

Without asking, he offered to push the trolley around the store and followed you diligently as you conferred on what to buy. At the very end of your journey, you spotted a large pack of bottled water that would easily have been enough for the rest of your time together. You shuffled and leaned down to the bottom shelf where the pack sat and slivered your fingers underneath to lift it, “Do you want some help with that?”

“Nope,” you grunted, struggling to lift it any further than a centimetre from the shelf. It was heavier than you’d anticipated, “actually, yeah.”

You grunted as Yoongi came to your rescue. He pulled up on the plastic packaging and aided you in placing it in the trolley, “Move your fingers,” he said. You looked at him strangely, and he smiled at your knitted brows, “they’ll get crushed! Move them!”

He jokingly scolded you, prompting you to tease a pout, “Don’t look at me like that!” He smiled, dodging your eye contact, “I’m only looking out for you.”

JHS

To wind down one evening, you made a joint effort to create a mini campfire in the yard. A small firepit, wood blocks and marshmallows was just enough to make a winter evening in the countryside more enjoyable.

On the backyard sofa, you reclined next to Hoseok. A blanket draped over your legs, but that along with the fire wasn’t enough to warm you up, “Are you cold? Here, take my jacket.” Hoseok offered, unzipping his branded winter coat.

You leaned away from him, rejecting his offer, “No way. It’s below freezing, keep it on. Could we share? Instead?” You nodded towards the blankets that kicked over both of your laps, and began to divide them more equally over you.

“Come a bit closer,” Hobi insisted, lifting his corner of the fabric to invite you under. You smirked at his natural generosity, and it wasn’t until he met your eyes that he noticed, “or morph into an iceberg if you’d like. Really, let me keep you warm.”

To add performance for the hidden cameras in the garden, you rested your head slowly on his shoulder. Hoseok, without much pause, slung his arm around you and shuffled his hand against your thick cardigan, “Comfy enough?”

You nodded in satisfaction, “Perfect!”

KNJ

For a segment in an episode, you and Namjoon had chosen face masks as an activity to complete. As a self-proclaimed skin care fanatic, you were more than excited to pamper the man who had quickly become a close friend of yours.

To emphasise the couple chemistry, Namjoon sat opposite you, crouched onto a small wooden stool identical to yours. His chestnut hair was pushed back, tucked away under a bright yellow headband, exposing his tanned forehead to your silicon brush, “Let me know if it tickles too much.”

Your prewarning was met with a dimpled smile as you started to spread the cleansing mixture across his risen cheeks. Rose pink clay pleasingly matched his dark eyes that could only focus on you. As you carefully distributed the face pack over his skin, you couldn’t help but grin at his widened eyes that followed yours so diligently, “You know, the more you look at me like that, the more I’ll have to believe you have a thing for me.”

Namjoon giggled softly, looking away from you for the first time since you’d begun, “What if I did?”

You looked down at your lap, flattered at his response. If you’d learnt anything about Namjoon in the past few days, it was that his tone of voice changed when his sincerity was meant to be heard, “Well then, that’s something for us to discuss when there isn’t a camera across the room.”

PJM

It had been a while since you’d spent so long away from your dorm and your members; you couldn’t help but feel slightly homesick. The kind of homesick that kept you up at night was the worst. To stop you from stirring around in the sheets and waking Jimin, you hung your legs over the side of the bed and stared into the blackness.

“Everything alright over there?” A sudden, raspy groan startled you. Jimin had followed you in sitting up in his place, rubbing his eyes that were still adjusting to the darkness.

“Hmm? Yeah, just a little homesick. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” You whispered, wrapping the duvet over your legs. The night camera should’ve stopped filming a few hours ago, but Jimin and you still weren’t close enough to be completely open around one another.

Jimin’s fluffly morning cheeks fell at your confession, “Can I help at all? I really hate to see you down.” He spoke softly, and yet you knew he meant what he said. For someone you’d known for less than a week, his compassion was surprising but sweet.

You stuttered, looking for any way to tell the time. Midnight was far behind you, and the summer sun was yet to rise, “Don’t worry about the time. Whatever I can do to make things better for you, I will.”

KTH

Filming such a programme in autumn had its benefits in what activities it made available. In addition to it being your favourite season, you’d learnt that Taehyung grew up in a similar setting to you. Daegu suburbs hid many roads that led to farms and orchards, where both you and Taehyung had spent many hours picking harvestables and chasing younger siblings.

As the director had learned of this shared memory, she organised an opportunity for you to recreate your childhood together. An apple and pear orchard waited on the outskirts of Seoul for you, “If they’re big enough, I can make you an apple pie?” Your promise to Taehyung had spawned a determination to make the most of a chance you hadn’t had in years.

After your basket was near enough full with apples, you’d spent your remaining minutes searching for larger ones to pluck. The perfect green apple hung just a bit too high for your grasp, and watching your struggle, Taehyung approached you from behind, “Need a lift?”

As you nodded, Taehyung squatted to wrap his arms around your legs and raise you up to the branch where you were able to take the apple that had caught your eye. Placing you back on your feet was less successful as you stumbled upon meeting the ground. A small shriek led to his hand catching your back , securing your balance. A heavy sigh of relief hooked a smile, “You didn’t think I’d let you fall, did you? I’d never let you get hurt when you’re with me.”

JJK

When your time together with Jungkook was coming to an end, you chose to spend a night at a karaoke bar. As you both owned the title of main vocalist in your groups, friendly competition couldn’t be missed.

To make it fair, you agreed on the same ballad to see who could score higher, and your winning score of 96 was enough to induce all of the excuses from Jungkook, “I let you win to ease you into the competition! Good luck in the next round.”

Many different verses and choruses later, and the tie between you was clear. To finish the hour you’d paid for, Jungkook suggested a ballad duet. You took the red lyrics and he took the green. The enchanting mixture of melodies coated the room with a romantic aura; you couldn’t help but switch between the lyrics and Jungkook’s eyes.

“That was really... something.” A shy grin closed the music as you returned your microphone to it’s slot. From award shows and concerts you’d attended before, you knew well that his vocals were stunning. But if you knew that yours could match so well with his, you would have suggested a karaoke much, much sooner.

“It really was. Maybe we could slip into a studio sometime? I heard you write songs.” How he’d heard that was unknown to you, but you were more than glad that he did.

^ hey! i remember you sending this before tumblr deleted all my asks, thank you for resending! i love this sm omg

[amydancepants-peralta]

The 5 times Jake & Amy tried to get some ‘alone time’ during the holidays (and the 1 time they’re successful)

Here is my entry into the @b99fandomevents Summer 2020 Challenge, for @peraltasames 💗 also available on ao3, as it is a little long ☺️

(For those of you playing at home, only part 2 is NSFW 🙊)

Part 1:

(where it all begins)

Attempt number 1:  The Santiago Family Holiday House 

“Thought I might find you here.”

Lifting her head up from its resting place in the crook of her arm, Amy doesn’t even try to suppress the smile that began to creep onto her face the moment she’d picked up on Jake’s voice.  

She cocks her head to the side as he falters mid-step, an obvious blush creeping onto his cheeks as he lifts his hands, raising two bottles in mock surrender.  “I mean, obviously I didn’t know that you’d be out here … I’ve never been here before and that’s giving off some real Creepy New Boyfriend vibes.  You know what, I’m just going to reset and start again.”  Digging one sneakered heel into the landing, he does a quick full body turn before Amy can give any type of reassurance; blinking quickly when their eyes meet again to indicate a Full Reset.  “Hey, Ames!  Your brother mentioned that you might be out here, so I thought I’d do something completely non-stalkery and bring you a drink.”

Chuckling, Amy reaches out for one of the offered bottles, riding that still new high that comes from hearing Jake Peralta refer to himself as her boyfriend.  “Thanks, babe.”

It’s Jake’s turn to grin right back, clearly enjoying her use of their favourite new term for each other; a colloquial word that still seemed kinda new - given it’s only been four months since they got together - yet somehow fits so well it’s almost a little strange to remember a time when they couldn’t refer to each other as such.  There’s a shared giddiness that floats between them as they clink bottles and take a sip, and her cheeks kinda hurt from smiling this much, but Amy really doesn’t care.  

Gesturing at the expanse of the relatively simple deck, Jake takes in the wooden panelling of the exterior walls before turning his attention back to his girlfriend.  “So … this is your little secret hideout, I hear?”

Nodding, Amy returns to her earlier position leaning against the high railing in front of her, letting out a soft yeah as her free hand runs along the timber paling.  

Built by her grandfather as a home away from the city several decades ago, the Santiago Lake House has long been considered a place of refuge for the family.  With six of her brothers, two uncles and her father Victor on the force, common holidays were rarely guaranteed off; and so this year they had elected a non-particular weekend in June as their opportunity for all to come together.  Save for a last-minute issue at Victor’s precinct pulling him away from the festivities, all eight Santiago siblings (and their mother Camila) had arrived earlier today for a well overdue holiday.  

While the majority of her family often preferred to gather around the oversized back deck, from a young age Amy had gravitated towards the more intimate side balcony that overlooked the water.  Stretching out from the family room situated on the second floor, the surrounding tree tops lent a sense of privacy the back deck couldn’t completely offer; and on the evenings when things began to feel a little too loud, Amy would often come up here to decompress, watching the night slip by as the moon silvered the lake before her.    

Taking a sip of his beer, Jake moves to stand next to Amy, resting his weight against the banister as he drinks in the view.  “I really like it.”  A small army of goosebumps appear on Amy’s skin, despite the dusk’s only slightly fading heat, as his arm brushes against her skin.  “Perfectly compact, with a great view.”  She can sense him grin, shoulder nudging against hers.  “Feels like you.”

Amy feels her cheeks heat up as a blush washes over her, grateful that the relative darkness of the almost night sky would be able to hide her reaction.  Jake was the very first boyfriend she’d ever brought to the lake house - a fact that Manny had announced very loudly in the middle of the private tour she had been giving earlier - and the look of elation and pride that had taken over Jake’s features at the discovery has remained fresh in her mind for the past few hours.

(It had never been an overly deliberate action, to keep previous boyfriends away from the lake house, but the thought of Jake joining in, within a minute of the date being set, had been so automatic that Amy is only now realising that the concept of being here without him had seemed completely illogical.)    

A melody played from Luis’ acoustic guitar is carried up to the two of them by a sudden breeze, cutting through the tops of the surrounding pine, and Amy lets out a small shiver: forever and always susceptible to the cold, regardless of the lingering summer heat.  Without missing a beat; Jake moves to stand behind her - covering her back with his front with the instinct of not only a gentleman, but a man who is very quickly taking complete hold of her heart.  

His arms come to rest besides hers along the edge of the bannister, and quietly Amy hopes that he cannot feel the rapid pounding of her heart through her jacket.  It felt a little ridiculous to act this way, like some kind of lovesick teenager drawing hearts all over her notebook, but dating Jake for the past four months doesn’t seem to have taken the edge off the way his presence made her feel.  

“So …. Tell me about David.”

As hard as she tries to avoid it, Amy feels her shoulders tense up - the urge to let out an exaggerated UGH almost too strong to resist.  She’d only touched on David’s presence briefly on the drive up to the lake house, and despite her own personal reservations, she supposed it was sort of fair that Jake might have a few questions.  Letting out a calming breath, Amy gives herself a quick reminder to keep her responding tone light.  “What would you like to know?”

“Uhh … well, look - the way his photo is displayed on that mantel in the formal lounge, and the clear adoration in your mother’s voice whenever his name came up made me wonder if he was on some super secret mission to Mars or something.”  Shaking his head, Jake knocks the lip of the beer bottle against his forehead.  “I honestly spent the first twenty minutes of polite chatter frantically rewinding all of our conversations over the last few years in my head, trying to remember you ever bringing up something like that.  Thank god he walked in when he did, or I’m sure I would’ve ended up saying something really stupid.”

Knowing that Jake can’t necessarily see her (okay, perhaps childish) reaction, Amy rolls her eyes at the mention of Camila’s unfiltered reverence when it comes to David.  “Yeah, he’s basically the ‘Do No Wrong’ guy … The Golden Child, as Julian and I like to call him.  It’s kinda always been like that, ever since he came home from first grade with a report card filled with gold star stickers and praise from literally every teacher he’d ever been in contact with.”

Swallowing his last swig of beer, Jake scoffs into the night sky.  “Gold stars are cool, I guess.  But any fool knows that the scratch-n-sniff stickers are where it’s really at.”

“Obviously.  Strawberry, the clear winner.”

His free hand landing on her forearm, Jake squeezes gently.  “I’d always been partial to grape, but strawberry just reminds me of that chapstick you use before bed now, and I am a big fan of those strawberry kisses to start my morning.”

Craning her head to the side slightly, Amy flashes Jake a grin before meeting him halfway for a soft kiss.  She, too, had become a big fan of morning kisses … and afternoon kisses, night kisses … basically any time she got to feel the pressure of Jake’s lips against her own was a winner in her book - and she knows she’s being a little ridiculous but she also really, really likes him.  Remembering their previous conversation as she pulls away, Amy shakes her head slightly before looking out onto the lake again.

“It’s worse at home, if I’m being honest - it’s basically the same shrine on the mantel, only at home we have a piano in the living room as well.  So … how well you’re doing at school or work or whatever, determines your position either on the piano or the wall of shame above the staircase.”

“I mean … I’m sure it’s not meant to feel like a wall of shame, babe.”

Amy nods, letting out a quick I want to believe you laugh.  “Tell that to Tony.  One semester, he wasn’t focusing as much as normal, and his grade dropped by a whole level.  Two days after he came home with the results, Mama conveniently decided to do a redesign of the living room - one that just so happened to include the shuffling of Tony’s school portrait from next to mine on the piano, to sitting at the bottom of the staircase.”  

Taking a long sip of Cristal, Amy pauses to take stock of the conversation. It felt slightly traitorous to be talking to Jake about the hierarchy that - prior to this evening - she’d only ever discussed with her brothers (minus one).  There’s never been a question over whether their mother loved them dearly - an abundance of love was palpable between the walls of both their family home and the holiday house - but it was also impossible to deny that the shadow of David’s successes, paired with Camila’s obvious praise, had loomed over Amy’s shoulders during her many late night study sessions.

This wasn’t the first time talking to Jake had led to Amy admitting more than she would to most - he had that (at times, irritating) ability to sneak past her guard long before they’d been anything more than colleagues.  But one of her most favourite details of their new relationship, aside from the why-did-we-wait-so-long-for-this sex, was the amount of nights they would stay up just … talking.  They’d learnt more about each other in the past four months than the last two years combined, and still she craves more.  Shaking her now empty bottle, Amy stoops to place it on the ground beside her before straightening, sighing in contentment as Jake’s shoulders rest against hers once again.  

“Eventually, Tony’s photo found its way back to the piano .. but the message was pretty clear.”  Letting out a rueful laugh, she shakes her head slightly.  “It’s no secret that I love a bit of friendly competition.  But … it’d be kinda nice if the rungs of the ladder weren’t always so far away from each other.”  

At the feeling of Jake’s lips pressing into her hair Amy lets out one last sigh, surprising herself with just how lighter her shoulders seem to feel.  A silence stretches between them as Jake drains the last of his beer, and just when she’s about to change the subject completely, he speaks.  

“So.  There’s a little known fact about me, that you should probably be made aware of now that we’re all smooshing booties offical stylez and whatever.”

Her lips curl up at the term.  “Oh, yeah?”

“Yup.  Obviously you’re already aware of my titles as Greatest Detective Ever, Badass MC, Amazing Lover, Fierce Defender of Good from Evil ..”

“Oh god, is this list ever going to end?”

“… Master dunker at B-ball, unofficially official taste tester of any and all sour candies … but!  What you might not know is that I am also a crazy good Hype Man.  Like .. the best.  All the others can just go home coz I kick the most butt at hyping things up and that’s just the facts.”

Turning her head slightly towards Jake, Amy glances up at her boyfriend from the corner of her eyes.  “I feel like there was a point you were making, here?”

Depositing his empty bottle along the far edge of the banister, Jake’s hands return to weave their fingers through both of Amy’s, staying close as she watches him take a heavy swallow.  Sensing that something important was about to be said, and that Jake may not be at the Locked Eyes Grand Gesture stage just yet, she trains her gaze towards the lake and waits. 

“What I’m saying, Ames, is that I am officially signing up to be your hype man.  I will literally have zero hesitation in pointing out your awesomeness to anybody that doesn’t immediately see it, and I just ..”  Pausing for a moment, he shuffles closer to her back, squeezing their gripped fingers tightly, and she takes no hesitation in squeezing right back.  “You need to know that … no matter what happens.  I’m always going to be there, cheering you on.” 

The unspoken definition of the no matter what happens hangs between them, the mere mention of anything but the two of them staying together sounding both unwelcome and impossible, and Amy nods against his chest. 

“I just …. They could rewire the stars with your accolades, Ames.  The fact that it goes over anybody’s head baffles me, let alone somewhere like here.”

She nods again, temporarily unable to speak as unexpected tears begin to threaten their escape.  There were an abundance of reports and awards that spoke of her achievements, and logically she knew that any task that she set her mind to could be mastered with relative ease.  

But to know that Jake not only noticed her triumphs, but wanted to actually (and, perhaps literally) shout them from the rooftops, meant more to Amy than she could have anticipated.   

He presses another kiss to her hair, and she holds onto him tightly.  There’s so much familiarity surrounding her right now - from the scratch of the logwood bannisters; the filtered laughter of her brothers and their extended families, to the slightly acrid smell of burnt marshmallows as Luis once again fails to make a decent s’more.  

Jake’s cologne with it’s spicy notes, and the overall sense of warmth he exudes, should feel foreign amongst it all … but standing here on the balcony with his arms stretched out comfortably on top of her own, Amy cannot deny that it feels less like an intrusion, and more like the final piece of life’s puzzle locking into place.  

Her voice cuts through the night, tone soft as she rests her head briefly against Jake’s shoulder.  “I’m really glad you’re here, Jake.”

The bridge of Jake’s nose brushes her temple as he dips his head lower, pressing a kiss against her cheekbone, and her heart skips at the simple intimacy of it all.  “Me too, Ames.”  

His fingers, still interlaced with hers, tighten as he pulls their arms closer to her middle; holding the two of them in a tight embrace as his continues a trail of kisses, letting out a quiet sigh as he follows her jawline.  It’s as his teeth begin to graze the outside edge of her earlobe - a guaranteed winning choice - that he begins to whisper, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine.  “So if I’m officially the first boyfriend you’ve brought here … does that mean there’s a bed somewhere that needs breaking in?”

Grinning, Amy turns in his embrace, releasing her grip on his hands so that she can throw her arms around her boyfriend’s neck and nod.  He gives her a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows, absorbing her laughter with a slightly longer kiss as his arms wrap around her lower body, and it only takes a moment when he pulls away and looks down at her - but in a moment, she knows.  

It’s a combination of things - a curated list of all of her favourite details about him coming together on a hazy June evening: the softness of his touch every time he was near; the warmth of his breath when it ghosted over her skin, the way he made her feel like she was the only person in the world that he could ever want to kiss.  She knows that it’s still technically early days, but as his fingers tip gently underneath her chin and draw her closer for the kind of kiss one doesn’t forget easily, Amy knows for sure that she is most definitely falling in love with Jake Peralta.  

It’s the kind of thought - the kind of kiss - that distracts even the most focused of people, and for that reason alone Amy doesn’t hear the heavy thud of Manny’s boots bounding up the staircase until it’s accompanied by his loud Busted! tone.  

“Okay amantes - time to come and at least pretend to be sociable with the family, yah?”

Amy’s lips pull away from Jake’s with a smack, swivelling her head towards her brother as she fixes him with a glare.  “We’re here for an entire weekend, Manny.  Plenty of time for family stuff.”

That frustratingly mischievous glint appears in her brother’s eyes - a sure sign of danger ahead - and Amy pulls away slightly from Jake.  “Ah-huh.  No biggie, Ma’s just been asking about your new boyfriend Jake, and is wondering where you’d gotten to … I’ll just tell her you’re both up here exploring the backs of each other’s throats, if that’s cool?”

Grabbing her wrist quickly, Jake yelps out a quick “Nope!”, gently pulling Amy towards the staircase.  “We were actually just talking about how we should go down and join the crowd, weren’t we Ames?”

Manny makes little to no effort to conceal his laughter as Amy’s response is a continuation of her glare, and he half-turns towards Jake as all three begin their descent towards the back deck.  “FYI, my bedroom is right next to yours, and I sleep real light … wouldn’t want to have to tell Mama about the things that go bump in the night, hey hermana?”

“You’ll get yours, manito.” Amy mumbles, linking hands with Jake as they move further away from their private oasis.  

There was a very good chance that this was Manny’s version of revenge (she may or may not have stumbled on her brother & his boyfriend last year, something she still swears to have been an accident) but now she’s both turned on and frustrated; knowing that as long as Manny has anything to do with it, there will be No Sex for her and Jake at the lake house.

Truly, she couldn’t think of a worse way to begin a holiday.  

*

(… is that a red light blinking?)

Attempt number 2:  Santa Barbara 

Jake’s eyebrows lift in surprise as the strength of Amy’s shove forces him into the couch cushions below, body barely settling against the base before she begins scrambling onto his lap.

Responding to his shock with a satisfied grin, Amy rests her hands on either side of his face to pull him in for a kiss, catching his soft moans and joining them with her own as it deepens.  

It isn’t until she’s begun to graze her teeth against the base of his neck that she catches her breath, whispering as her body begins to grind down against his - “I’m totally blaming you for this, by the way.”

“I’m not sure what I’m taking the blame for, but as long as you keep kissing me like that I’m pretty much going to admit to anything.”

She laughs, sinking her teeth gently into his shoulder and leaving a kiss in their wake.  “You and your hands, stroking up and down my back all night while I was trying to be the attentive and supportive sister.  It was driving me crazy, you don’t know how close I came to dragging you into the coat closet.”

The two of them had flown to Santa Barbara for a long weekend to show their support for Amy’s closest (aka: secretly favourite) brother, Miguel.  As the only Santiago child not to join the NYPD, Miguel had instead chosen to become a specialist in the medical field, relocating to follow a promotion in California.  This evening he was receiving an award from his peers at a gala uptown, and both Jake and Amy had jumped at the chance to attend - if for no other reason than a chance to get away, after months of double shifts and leads that had taken them absolutely nowhere.  

Amy had chosen a new dress for the occasion - black material that shimmered in just the right way, with a low-scoop back to avoid the unbearable summer heat.  Paired with her signature studs and heels high enough to do some serious damage if provoked, she’d felt like a million dollars walking into the gala on Jake’s arm - and had smiled ever so proudly as Miguel received his award.

The rest of the night, however, has become a vague memory … because all she can remember feeling - all she can remember even thinking about - was the way Jake’s fingers felt as they feathered against her exposed skin.  With his arm draped over her chair he’d been given the perfect amount of leeway throughout the ceremony, and the non-sensical patterns of unconscious action on her boyfriend’s end had sent a parade of tingles all over her body with every lap.  

Safe to say, once all the awards have been presented and they’d had the chance to congratulate Miguel once again, Amy had slammed down her fourth drink and found a convenient reason for her and Jake to leave.  Immediately.  

“To be fair Ames, you do look amazing tonight,”  Jake mumbled in-between kisses, running his hand over the expanse of her back to demonstrate his appreciation.  “Honestly, I’m blaming the dress for making my already hot girlfriend Super Mega Hot.”

She rewards his sweet declaration with a heated kiss, hands making quick work of his tie - loosening the knot with practised ease (she does, after all, fasten and loosen his work tie most days) and casting the fabric aside as she begins to tackle his buttons.  

A beachside mansion, owned by a friend of Roger’s, had been offered to be their accommodation for the weekend - an olive branch of sorts towards Jake that he’d begrudgingly accepted (the notion of his parents dating each other, something he was slowly coming to terms with).  Their delayed flight this afternoon had meant that Jake and Amy barely had time to dump their bags before getting changed and leaving again, but the floor-to-ceiling windows and expansive layout she’d picked up on their way out the door already suggested a very comfortable few days ahead.  

It is, in fact, only as Jake drops a quick kiss to her lips, suggesting they move things into the bedroom, that Amy stands and actually takes stock of her surroundings (a combination of four drinks and an irresistible partner can clearly only lead to a distracted mind).

Tugging onto her boyfriend’s hand as he continues leading her towards the hallway, Amy lets out a quiet wait a minute - and it’s just enough to pique Jake’s interest, turning to see what it is that’s caught Amy’s attention.  

“Ames?”

Raising her finger in a curious point, Amy surveys the room.  “Cameras.”  At Jake’s silence, she points them out as she slowly circumnavigates the room.  “One, two .. I count four altogether.  Four cameras, three of them video.  Trained to face the furniture, and not the beach.”

Hands on hips, Jake moves further into the centre of the room, frowning.  “Yeah, that is a little weird.”

Her eyebrows knit together as she walks towards the bookshelf next to the tv unit, inspecting a container that managed to catch her eye.  “Jake, there are like five different handcuffs in here.  All of them furry.”  Turning her head, she begins to read a few of the labels attached on a row of VHS tapes.  Genna and Nicolai … Matt and Lennon … “Cockpit Larry and the Mile High Stewardi?”  Swivelling quickly, Amy turns to gasp at Jake.  “Babe … what sort of place has your father organised for us?”

Running his hand along the back of his neck, Jake shakes his head quickly.  “Let’s not panic just yet, Ames.  This could all just be a series of coincidences that when put together seem really weird, but actually aren’t.  It .. looks like a normal house - except for all the cameras that seem to be directed towards the couch we were definitely just making out on, maybe a few sex tapes and what, in hindsight, might definitely be release papers waiting for us on the kitchen bench.”

“There’s what, where?”

“In fact, I bet if I lift the lid off of this bowl thing, we’ll find some delicious candy or potpourri or something … and it’s lube.  Many, many bottles of lube.  Hey, we’ve got the same flavour!”

Amy’s eyes widen, her face paling significantly as she feels her stomach drop to her feet.  “Oh god, this is a sex dungeon isn’t it?”

“If not, it’s the background of at least a few porn videos.”  Gripping the base of his hair in frustration, Jake lifts his head to curse at the ceiling.  “I should’ve known Roger wouldn’t know anybody with a normal house!”

Sensing the panic build up inside of her, Amy scours the room for her purse and heels, both of which had been discarded near the entryway mid-makeout.  The arousal that had been coursing through her mere minutes ago has all but disappeared, replaced by the overwhelming urge to take a shower.  She was all for porn, just as long as she wasn’t the star of it (one simply doesn’t find NYPD’s youngest female captain on RedTube) - and this house was the kind of place that, under a black light, would resemble a Jackson Pollock.  “Jake, we need to leave.  We almost had sex in here!”

“Almost being the keyword, Ames.  Unless … ”

“Jake!”

“Coming, my love!  Title of the sex tape that we definitely didn’t make here!”

*

(i’m sensing a pattern here …)

Attempt Number 3:  The Beach House

“Jake!  Jake’s girlfriend!  I just pulled Charles’s ear away from your bedroom door, thought you might wanna know!”

Startled, Jake lifts his head up so quickly it hurts his neck a little, both confused and irritated that his earlier activity of planting a series of kisses along Amy’s bare torso has been so rudely interrupted.  “Wait, was that …?”

Raising her head off of the pillow, Amy meets his startled gaze with her own.  “Did she just - ”

Their suspicions (and, in all honesty - their worst fears) were confirmed a mere second later as another voice booms through their (thankfully, locked) bedroom door.

“I’ve had a very stressful week, Gina!  What better way to lull myself into a restful sleep than by listening to the sweet lovemaking of America’s Dream Couple?”

“Oh my god, BOYLE!” 

Jake’s knees slide against the sheets as he sits up, lending a hand to Amy as she follows suit.  He lets out a defeated sigh as she pushes the hem of her shirt downwards again, leaning forward to grip his arm as he calls through the door - “Boundaries, Charles! … Thank you, Gina!”

“It’s a virtual feast for the ears, you guys!  Very soothing, to bear audio witness to the actualisation of love beyond a doorway.  It’s only weird if we make it weird.”

“It’s weird and creepy and not okay, Boyle!”  Squeezing his eyes shut, Jake cringes at the sheer notion of it.  Using his best nope voice, he continues.  “Good night!”

From their position on the bed, Jake and Amy hear the faint sound of Gina muttering come on, you weirdo; and they wait in careful silence, sharing flustered looks.  

The entire squad had all met up at Boyle’s ex-wife’s beach house this weekend, eager to continue the yearly tradition now that Holt and Jake had finally returned from Florida a month prior.  After a day of fun and frivolity (the two of them perhaps being a little unsubtle as they openly checked each other out in their swimwear); the happily reunited couple had snuck away as the evening’s drinks began to die down for a little … alone time.  

It had been Jake’s version of paradise, with Amy’s skin still feeling warm and sun kissed as his hands roamed her gorgeous body, and with a schedule of Absolutely Nothing planned for the following day, he intended to keep things going well into the early hours.  

That is, of course, until Charles (and Gina, but … mainly Charles) had put a total stop to it.

Amy’s hand squeezes Jake’s bicep, casting a wary glance towards the door before softly speaking.  “Wow, that was close.”

“Yeah.  I never thought I would say this in relation to sex, but … thank god for Gina.”

“I don’t even want to imagine the alternative.”

Shaking his head, Jake swears under his breath.  “You know what this is, right?”

“Charles forgetting basic social normalities, and grossly overstepping the line?”

“No.  I mean, yes - that, too.  But I think the main culprit here is the curse.”

“The curse?”

“The No Nookie Curse.  Tell me you’ve noticed it Ames, it can’t just be me.”

Cocking her head to the side, Amy tests out the term.  “The No Nookie Curse?”

Scooting closer to his girlfriend, Jake rests his palms against Amy’s thighs with the practiced comfort of someone who knows her body better than his own.  “Every single time we tried to initiate sexy times when we’re on holiday, something happens to interrupt us.  I’m telling you, we’re cursed.”  He grimaces, rolling his eyes.  “Which is probably because I didn’t forward that email on to seven of my closest friends back in 2013, but I was busy that day and - ”

“Jake.  There’s no way we’re cursed.  We had sex on our last holiday … didn’t we?”

“Do you mean that weekend at Dave’s cool beachfront mansion, that was also definitely used for porn films?”

“Oh right, the sex den.  Okay, but that’s a one-off.  We’ve been on plenty of holidays prior to that.”

“Like the lake house, where we were both so paranoid that Mama Santiago would find out what we were doing that we barely moved each evening?”

“Yeah, when you add it up like that it really doesn’t sound great.”

“I mean … there was lots of sex on the cruise once Doug Judy disappeared.  Good sex, too - not that we ever have bad sex.  But that was really good, life-affirming, post-declarations-of-love sex, that I’m completely certain we were able to have because we were in international waters, and therefore outside the curses’s jurisdiction.”

Covering Jake’s hands with her own, Amy squeezes gently at the mention of their cruise holiday and leans in for a chaste kiss.  “I’m pretty sure curse’s don’t have jurisdictions, babe.”

“How can you be so sure, Ames?  All I know is, whenever we’re on holiday and we try to get the good kind of naked, something always comes along and stops us.  And it really is a travesty, because you always get this crazy sexy vacation glow about you that just makes me want to cover your body in kisses, and yet somehow it just never seems to happen.”

“Wow, you’ve really thought a lot about this, huh?”

“Lets just say it’s been eating away at me for a while now.”

A lewd joke dies on Amy’s lips as she looks over at her boyfriend, taking in the obvious frustration in his face and realising how seriously he was taking the issue.  “Babe, I promise.  There is no such thing as a curse.”  Planting her hand on the other side of the bed, she lifts herself up, straddling his lap as he moves quickly to tent his legs behind her.  “And I am going to prove it to you - right here, right now.”

His hands land on Amy’s waist, holding her steady as she scrapes the edge of her teeth against his curve of his neck, carding her fingers through his shorter hair while her body slowly gyrates on his lap.  “God I love you, Ames.”

“Mmm.”  Amy takes in a deep breath, relishing the scent of the man she’d missed for so long, sighing when his hands reach down to squeeze her butt.  “I love you too, Jake.”  

The curse, the previous interruption … pretty much any kind of detail other than his name was disappearing from Jake’s mind with every press of Amy's warm lips against his skin, and he lets out a soft moan, gripping her body tighter as his hands begin to wander to her front.  

THUD.  

“OW! Rosa!”

“What the hell, Boyle!  I know Gina just pulled you away from here!”

Their kissing coming to an abrupt stop, Amy groans, tucking her head into the juncture of Jake’s neck and shoulder.  “Oh my god, again?!”

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Jake falls back onto the mattress, taking Amy with him and curling both arms around her protectively.  They listen as Charles and Rosa squabble in the hallway outside, choosing not to acknowledge the horror of it all this time around.  With a defeated grumble, Amy reaches for the comforter, covering them both up before returning to her safe place (i.e., Jake’s shoulder).

“What was that you were saying, about curses not existing?”

*

(okay, now the universe is just messing with us)

Attempt Number 4:  Team Building in Deer River

It’s Jake’s absent-minded humming of his current favourite song that puts a tranquil smile on Amy’s face on their return to the campsite, keeping her grip around his waist tight as the leaves crunch loudly beneath their feet.

Together with the squad, they had spent the day attending a team building event in Deer River - a state forest just far enough from the city that camping overnight had been the safest option.

After a full day of trust falls, puzzle solving and a group scavenger hunt, the couple had strategically erected their tent further away from the rest of their team, hoping to afford a little bit of privacy (and perhaps, a safe enough distance from Charles).  Following Jake’s exoneration, and the brand new addition of a shiny ring on Amy’s finger, a night away underneath the stars was exactly what they needed; and once everything was set up the two of them had wandered off into the woods for some time to themselves.

(Aka: totally disappearing into the surrounding trees and starting a makeout session that lasted longer than either had anticipated.)

(So much so, that the sun had almost completely set by the time they pulled away from each other, hastily returning each of their clothing to a suitable state before heading back.)

Intent on proving that the No Nookie Curse was only an amalgamation of Jake’s paranoid thoughts, Amy was determined to get back to the campsite and settle themselves into bed before anyone or anything could interrupt them.  Her plan involved waiting out the rest of the squad’s bedtime routines, before demonstrating to the love of her life that vacation sex was not only a) possible, it was also b) definitely happening.  

Whistling the last few bars of his song, Jake tightens his arm around Amy’s shoulder as a strong wind runs through the surrounding greenery - the fifth gust since they started walking back, all of them gaining in strength - already regretting not grabbing her scarf from their luggage earlier.  

“Just throwing it out there, babe?  Still on Team Outdoor Sex.  Sex in the woods sounds hella cool.  Daytime sex, though.  Now that the sun has clocked out, and the wind has clocked in, it’s actually kinda really cold.”

“Daytime outdoor sex does sound cool, if you disregard the bugs that will crawl all over you, the ticks that will suck on your blood and potentially give you Lyme disease … the bears that could come along at any second and attack us …”

“Really ramping up on the sexy talk there, Ames.”

Rolling her eyes, Amy squeezes Jake’s hand, linking their fingers together.  “All of these are things that would interrupt us, and while I’m still not saying that curses exist, I do think we should try to avoid any temptation for things to go wrong.”

“You’ve put a binder together about this, haven’t you?”

“Not a binder per se, but I’ve definitely done a decent amount of research.”  Stopping just shy of the clearing, Amy turns to face her fiancé, wrapping her arms around his waist.  “After all, this is the first time we’ve been able to get away since getting engaged.  A night away is just what we need, and I’m not letting a thing stop us from taking full advantage of this opportunity.”

Pushing herself up onto her tippy-toes, Amy pecks a quick kiss onto Jake’s lips, satisfyingly noticing their still swollen state from earlier activities.  “Besides, if the wind stays like this, I’m going to need something to help keep me warm, Peralta.”

“I’m sure I could think of something,” he mumbles in reply, leaning in for another chaste kiss and groaning when Amy pulls away, grabbing his hand and leading him back towards the camping ground. 

Quickly reverting back to their previous positioning - hand over shoulder, arm wrapped around waist - Amy is giggling at something that Jake has just whispered in her ear when Holt comes into sight, raising her free hand in a silent wave as they near him. 

“Peralta.  Santiago.  I’m thankful to have ended up on the same path as the two of you, as it was exactly your presence that I was seeking.”

Pushing a stray lock of hair out of her eye line, Amy nods.  “Jake and I went for a walk and must have lost track of the time, sir.”  From beside her, Jake subtly nudges his hip into her own, and she resists the urge to elbow him in the ribs.  “What did you need us for?  Do you need a hand with your tent?”

Wincing, Holt shakes his head slowly.  “Ahh, no.  Unfortunately, it would appear that your tent was not as securely fastened to the camping ground as previously suggested.”

Amy feels Jake’s hand slide down her back as it falls away - much like their hopes for the rest of the evening would soon do - and she looks over at her superior, confused.  “Captain?”

Turning, Holt points through the clearing towards the river, where in the fading light Amy and Jake can faintly make out the tip of their tent as it floats further away from solid ground.

Oh.

“The trouble with openings such as this, is that the prevailing weather meets very little resistance - and so as the wind has grown stronger we have all had to readjust our footings in regards to our own domiciles.  Regrettably, such distractions meant that the rapidly loosening fixtures on your tent went unnoticed by the squad.  Your lodging managed to catch the wind and set itself adrift on the water before anybody had a chance to attempt recovery.”

Running a hand down his face, Jake lets out a frustrated groan.  “Looks like we’re roughing it in the dirt tonight, babe.”

“Weren’t our sleeping bags in the tent as well?”  Amy responds, her face falling as Jake nods slowly.

Holt raises his hand, clearly intending to stop the couple from spiralling into total hopelessness.  “Fortunately, Kevin and I recently purchased a two room tent that has the ability to sleep ten people, which provides plenty of room for the two of us and Cheddar.  Provided you have an adequate amount of your allergy medication with you, Santiago, we can relocate him to our side of the canvas and offer you shelter for the evening.  Perhaps in the morning, we will be able to organise a retrieval of your now absent tent.”

Resting his hand on the small of Amy’s back, Jake nods once again.  “There’s a spare packet in our bags, which thankfully are still in the common area.”

“Very well.  Follow me, then.  Kevin has already begun making provisions for your stay, and I’m sure your earlier activities have left you eager for rest.”

Thankful, but also more than a little bit crushed that their plans had fallen apart so swiftly, Jake and Amy follow their captain through the campsite with fallen shoulders.  

Jake waits until Holt has passed through the mesh lining into their other ‘room’ before muttering low enough for only Amy’s ears to pick up - “The No Nookie Curse strikes again.”

And truthfully, Amy cannot come up with a single rebuttal - choosing instead to cup her fiancé’s face, and offer a soft kiss in commiseration.  Perhaps curses were real, after all.  

*

(seriously, how do those guys do it?)

Attempt Number 5:  Romance on the beach

“I’m telling you, Ames.  There has to be a secret propellor or something under there.  There just has to be.  I literally cannot think of any other way.”

Her shoulders shaking from all the laughter, Amy reaches out to rest her arms on either side of her husband’s neck and breaks her chuckle for a kiss.  “I know, babe.  You’re totally right.”

“I just … how else do they do it?”

Shaking her head, Amy breaks out into another round of laughter, keeping her grip tight so that Jake knows it isn’t directed at him (but rather, the situation at hand).

The Hamptons was their address for the next three days, the location of choice for Tony and his partner Luella’s upcoming wedding.  In true Peraltiago Vacation style, emergency renovations to the widespread home that all Santiago siblings were staying in had meant that they were short one room, and Jake and Amy had been the lucky couple to be allocated the sofa bed in the living room as their place of rest.  

(A fact that, once broken to them, had led to Jake coughing the word Cursed! under his breath, and in all honesty - this time Amy knew he was absolutely right.)

Fresh from their honeymoon (which, once their captain had left them in peace, had involved a lot of sex ��� amazingly mind-blowing, sometimes costumed sex - which only served to prove that the international waters clause of the curse still held strong), both of them had entered holiday mode with a renewed vigour to finally set things straight.  

Having a sunken living room, with a wraparound balcony looking down at them from above for a bedroom, led to Jake thinking creatively - pulling Amy towards the beach on the first evening, lifting her into his arms and running both of them straight into the ocean.

It was the stuff of fantasies: floating in the water with the one you heart adored, holding onto each other tightly as you make love, the waves lapping around you and the world disappearing for just a little while.  The kind of scene that every person has seen in a movie, or read in a book, and one that the newlyweds had actually intended to try on their honeymoon before realising that the beaches surrounding their hotel were rarely secluded enough for such activities.  

The reality, however, was vastly different - with the two quickly realising that the art of treading water, while clinging to each other and trying desperately not to drown, did not a sexy tryst make.  

It was mid-kiss that Jake finally broke away, sputtering out “Are the guys in all the movies secretly dolphins or something?”, all the while pushing frantic strokes through the water in an effort to stay afloat; causing Amy to burst into laughter - tears streaking down your face, ribs sore from all the shaking kind of laughter - clinging to her husband like a koala as he slowly walked them back towards the shore.  

Joining Amy in her mirth, Jake leads her over to the towels that he’d dumped on the sand earlier, spreading them out haphazardly and pulling his wife down to meet him.  “Okay, so now we know.  Sex in the water = not as easy as it looks.”

Thankful to have chosen a dress for their intended walk on the beach, Amy lifts the wet fabric from her thigh, squeezing out a small fountain of water as she gives Jake a sympathetic look.  “I’m sorry, babe.  It was definitely worth a shot - and bonus points for spontaneity.  Very hot.”

Jake’s hand comes to rest on her bared thigh, stroking her skin gently before leaning in for a kiss.  “It’s easy to find reasons for spontaneous sex, when you have a wife as hot as I do.”

“Mmm,” Amy moans into his mouth, abandoning the skirt and letting it fall back down with a splat.  The sand beneath the towel shifts as she digs her knees in; scrambling closer to Jake to deepen the kiss, knowing all too well that her horniness level was still sitting low on simmer.  

She breaks the kiss to nibble on Jake’s earlobe as his hand slides further up the dress, fingertips sliding over her butt, and Amy climbs onto his lap, lifting her hips slightly in silent invitation.  Her underwear slides down a moment later, lifting her knees and then her ankles until they’re being tucked into Jake’s pocket, and she takes advantage of the freedom by grinding down on his growing erection.  

Despite the cool sea water still dripping down her skin, Jake’s hands feel warm as he moves to caress her once more, palm digging into her derriere as he pulls her in for a heavy kiss, and suddenly Amy thinks she’s beginning to understand all the reasons why ‘sex on the beach’ is such a popular term.  

Jake’s fingers caress her folds shortly after, dipping one finger in before following with another, and it's everything Amy has been craving for, her husband’s lips leaving a trail of kisses along her jawline while she writhes on his lap.

It’s only as his hand pulls away, and her hips continue to sway closer to Jake’s body, that a whole other sensation begins to form.  Yanking her mouth away from the hickey she’d been creating on Jake’s neck, Amy presses a hand to his chest and whispers - “Jake!  The sand.”

“Mmm, yeah.  All soft and warm, it’s kinda hot.”

Shaking her head, Amy rears back further, only to let out a sharp cry.  “No, Jake!  I think the sand has gotten into … places.”

He blinks, shaking himself out of his makeout stupor.  “Wait.  Ames, are you okay?”

“My vagina is on fire, babe.”

Scrambling upwards, Jake reaches out to help Amy stand, wincing at her obvious discomfort.  “Do you want to go back into the water?”

Amy shakes her head quickly.  “I need a shower, pronto.  Oh god, I can feel all the little grains scraping.”

“Oh no, it would have been on my hands, and then I … I’m so sorry, Ames.”  Turning, Jake presents his back to her, bending lower.  “Here, jump up and I’ll carry you back to the house and straight into the shower.  I’m so sorry, babe."

His hands dig into her lower thigh as Amy rests her upper body against her husband’s back, pressing her forehead into his shoulder blade and letting out a groan.  “Okay universe, we get it!  The No Nookie curse is real!”

“It’s real and it sucks!”  Jake’s voice comes out in a huff as he rushes through the sand, grateful that they hadn’t strayed too far from the house.

“Ugh, why have people named a drink after this?!”

*

Part 2:

(and the 1 time they’re successful)

(I'm definitely seeing stars)

Jake’s grip on his wife’s hand holds strong as he leads her up to the highest point of the house, pausing at the base of the final set of stairs and gesturing for her to take the lead.  Amy gives him a curious look as she passes him, clearly intrigued, and he whispers a compliment directed at her butt (always a favourite) as they both begin their ascent.   

Holt and Kevin’s vow renewal ceremony was (finally!) taking place this coming weekend, and the squad - plus partners and children alike - had all convened earlier today at their allocated accommodation in the Berkshires.  

The house - like many in the surrounding neighbourhood - was larger than the precinct and all of their homes combined; stretching out into various wings and drawing the eye upward with it’s high ceilings and exposed stonework.  This time, Jake and Amy had gone to great lengths to ensure they were allocated their own room towards the opposite end of the home, large enough to accommodate a now eight months old Mac while also ensuring a modicum of privacy - a concept dearly treasured, after so many disastrous attempts.  

Exhausted after a full day of sticking to a rigid schedule of rehearsals and preparations alike, Jake had waited until they’d been able to lull their son to sleep in his travel cot before luring Amy into the hallway with the promise of a surprise; and he’s not entirely sure if it his proposal to her several years ago that finally got Amy on board with his surprises, or if it was just indicative of the trust he’d been able to earn - but either way, she follows eagerly with an excited grin.  

He hears the excited gasp that escapes her mouth as the door at the top swings open, the full extent of his plan coming to fruition as Amy moves further into the landing and turns to him with eyes that sparkled.  “Jake … this is amazing!”

Tucking both hands into his pockets, Jake puts on his best humble brag face as he joins his wife in the centre of the alcove.  “So I did a little research on this place before we got here, and as it turns out the owner/builder was a massive fan of stargazing.”  Nodding towards the low set walls that wrapped around the base, he turns to Amy with a proud grin.  “They’d built this landing solely for that purpose.  And tonight, it is our little hideaway.”

Amy’s eyes soften as she takes in the surrounding tea light candles, the blow-up mattress covered in blankets and pillows in the middle of it all, and the bottle of wine still chilling in a bucket of ice to the side.  “Wow, babe.  You really pulled out all the stops on this one.”

“One could say .. a whole binders worth of preparation.”

Her head swivels towards him, and he grins triumphantly.  “You made a binder for this?”  

“You haven’t even heard the best part.  The door we just went through is the only way in or out,  and I have the key right here in my pocket.  Rosa has stepped in to keep an eye on Mac, and has promised that she will only call if it’s an emergency.  She also seems to have figured out what we are doing up here, and appears to be equal parts impressed and disgusted.”

Amy nods, moving closer and resting her hands on either side of Jake’s neck.    

“Holt and Kevin are off with Laverne, Charles and Genevieve have taken Nikolaj camping half an hour away, and Terry and Sharon are exhausted from chasing after their kids all day.  Hitchcock and Scully had both an apple pie and a cake after dinner, so I can only assume that they’ve slipped into some sort of post-sugar high coma.”  Leaning in to press a soft kiss at the edge of Amy’s lips, Jake pulls away with a grin.  “What I’m saying, my darling, is that there is almost no chance of us getting interrupted.”

Moving closer still, Amy wraps both arms around Jake’s neck, carding her fingers through his slightly overgrown curls as she draws him in for a heart-pounding kiss.  “Looks like we’re kicking a certain curse’s butt tonight.”

Nodding, Jake initiates another kiss, waiting until he feels Amy melt completely in his arms before grazing his lips along the edge of her cheek, peppering tiny kisses in their wake.  “While I am definitely looking forward to breaking the curse, this is mainly just me wanting you to feel good, babe.”

“Mmm.  I’d say you’re on the right track.”

His teeth scrape lightly against her earlobe as he lets out a soft laugh, pulling their bodies closer together.  “You work so hard, Ames .. and you do so much for Mac and I.  You deserve to have a holiday, and really relax.”  Continuing the path paved earlier, Jake reaches the juncture of her neck and swipes his tongue against her warm skin.  “Let me make you feel good, babe.”

Amy lets out a moan, Jake’s hands wandering down the front of her jeans, cupping her centre through the fabric and rubbing with a slow rhythm; and he pulls away with a sly grin.  

“There is one tiny detail that we need to take into consideration, actually.”  Raising one hand, Jake gestures towards the open design of the landing.  “Out here it’s just you, me and the stars … and sound travels like crazy.”  He drops a tender kiss to her lips, leaving the intimation of both his and hers tendency to get a little loud during sex unspoken.  “In fact, you could even say it’s - ” leaning in, he flips into his Best Sexy Tone - “omnidirectional.”

“Oh, mama …”

“We’re going to have to try really hard to stay quiet, babe.”  Tightening his grip around her waist, Jake lowers his body slightly and Amy picks up on the queue, wrapping her legs around her husband as he moves them towards the blankets.  He lowers her carefully, shaking his head in wonder as she gazes back up at him: looking like some kind of heavenly creation amongst the mixture of candlelight and stars.  “I’m so in love with you, Amy Santiago.”

A soft blush creeps onto her cheeks, and Amy crooks her finger in a silent request for her husband’s presence, sinking her teeth into her lower lip as he covers her body with his own.  “I love you too, Jake.”  

Her hips tilt marginally upwards, rubbing her body against the fabric of Jake’s own jeans as she reaches for his fly, making quick work of the barriers as her hand slides inside to grip his rapidly growing erection.  Quick to follow suit, Jake pulls away from their embrace only to tug both his and Amy’s jeans off completely, casting both of their tops and underwear aside haphazardly and mentally congratulating his earlier decision to use battery-powered candles over real ones.  Setting fire to the highest point of a house is a great way to kill a mood - and ruin a wedding - and there wasn’t a single way that he was going to let the two of them be interrupted tonight.  

His erection rubs against Amy’s naked thigh as he covers her body once again, sweeping his hand over her curves as his hand heads directly to her centre.  He covers her mouth with his own while his fingers begin to explore, taking in the moisture they find and gently massaging just the way Amy loves.  Her hips sway beneath Jake’s torso, working with his deft touch as her hand moves to circle his cock, squeezing and pumping slowly … a familiar move that only made Jake last a full two minutes the last time she tried it.  

The two of them are straight-up moaning by now, rotating between messy kisses and heated breaths against shoulders and necks as they both work each other up with expert precision.  Contorting his back, Jake moves to sink his teeth into the edge of Amy’s right breast, desperate for a taste of her arousal but knowing all too well that if he moves too far away from her mouth, his wife will begin to really cry out, and the risk of exposure was just too great.   

Instead, he slides back up to press his lips against hers, the desire obvious as his bare crotch ruts against her own.  Amy’s responding moan is stuttered, her attempts to keep everything quiet obvious, and he grins.  

“You’re doing so well at staying quiet, Ames … god you’re so sexy.”  Tongue sweeping against hers, absorbing the moans that were gaining in intensity, Jake’s thumb rubs persistently at her clit, matching the tempo of her rotating wrist as they push each other closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh god Jake … fuck me.  Fuck me now, fuck me hard.”

Looping his elbow under one of her knees, Jake moves into position and enters Amy in a single thrust, feeling momentarily breathless as the warmth of her surrounds him completely.  Her other leg swings around to rest on his butt, holding him close as he pulls out and slams back in again, and truly, this has to be the closest thing to heaven.  

Pressing one hand into the base of the landing, Jake pushes down for leverage as he returns his right hand to Amy’s clit - resuming the circled patterns he’d initiated earlier - and Amy sinks her teeth into Jake’s shoulder as she comes with a muffled shout.  The feeling of her walls pulsing around his cock makes him descend into a state of almost madness, increasing the intensity of his thrusts until it’s all just pure instinct, chasing the euphoric high but nowhere near ready for any of this to end.  

Slipping her other leg from his grip, Amy digs her fingers into Jake’s shoulders as she rolls him onto his back, keeping their hips joined as much as possible to avoid any chance of disruption.  Her body is slick with sweat as she rises above him, planting her hands on his chest and looking down at her husband with a flushed and satisfied grin, rising and falling as she takes over Jake’s steady pace.  

“This is the best idea you’ve ever had,” she whispers, leaning down to circle her tongue over his nipples, sucking a love bite into his pec as she goes.  “Fuck, this feels so good.”  Rising again, Amy leans back until her hair is trailing down her spine, and the sight in front of him nearly pushes Jake over the edge completely.  

She looked so incredible like this, bare and open and clearly just letting her body take over as she swivels her hips into his thrusts, his cock glistening with her arousal as she slides up and down.  Jake has known, for a long time now, that there is nobody in the world that could ever be as beautiful as Amy Santiago, and tonight only serves to solidify his belief.  

There’s a bit more of a curve to her skin now, a soft swell to her belly that stands as proof of the their amazing son; and he knows that at times she feels self-conscious of the changes she cannot control, but he fell in love with Amy for a million reasons, and her body was only one of them.  His body has changed as well, after all; and probably will again over the course of the next fifty years, and there is nothing that will ever change the way they feel about each other.  

He tents his legs to a low degree behind her, offering support as his hands begin to cover every expanse of her body, thumbing the inverted arch of her breasts with reverence as they bounce against their joint movements.  Jake's not sure if he’ll ever win the lottery, but it’s clear that he’s already reached the jackpot right here in this moment, watching Amy hurtle ever closer to another orgasm.

It’s the faltered breaths and the occasional stilling of her hips that tells Jake that his wife is nearly there, and with gentle coaxing she falls forward again, mashing her lips against his as their chests press together.  Knowing that this is an angle that both of them enjoy, Jake digs his fingers into Amy’s butt as he lifts his hips off the ground, hammering into Amy as the steady motion presses her clit against his pelvis, whispering her name over and over as her fingers grip his hair by the roots.  Her body begins to shake, followed by a whisper of babe I’m close, and Jake pushes his body a degree or two higher.  

There’s a sharp sting against his skin as Amy comes, her mouth clamped over the edge of his shoulder as the need to scream is just too powerful, the vibrations of her moans reverberating into his intoxicated mind.  The sheer mixture of pleasure and pain is all Jake needs to let go completely, pouring himself inside his wife as calls out her name without suppression, and Amy’s hand clamps quickly over his mouth before the sound of his climax can travel too far.  

It takes a long while for either Jake or Amy to be able to speak, their bodies a jumble mess as they struggle to catch their breath, the silence only broken as Amy cranes her neck back towards the sky and gasps - “Wow, you really can see so many stars from here!”

From beside her Jake nods, still partially in a state of seeing stars of his own as his heart begins to return to a normal pace.  He lets out a gradual sigh as Amy shifts closer to him, curling her arm around his waist and tucking her head into his shoulder.  

Wrapping his left arm around her naked body (he’s not sure there’ll ever be a time when he will ever have enough of it), Jake raises his right hand for a high five.  “We did it, Ames.  We broke the curse.”

Amy’s responding laugh is loud, and probably carried over the grounds, but Jake doesn’t care at all anymore, and she meets his hand with a triumphant slap.  “Yeah we did!  Suck it, universe!”

His grip grows tighter, seizing the blanket with the tips of his fingers and sliding it over their skin before his wife has a chance to feel the coolness of the night’s sky.  He knows that they should probably head downstairs soon, sneak back into their bedroom and relieve Aunty Roro of her babysitting duties, but the afterglow of this moment feels too sweet to give away - Mac has been sleeping through the night for a solid two months now, and he knows that if anything had gone wrong they’d have known well before now.  

Amy’s lips ghost against his bicep as she lets her eyelids flutter close for a moment (a post-sex power nap often needed, rarely lasting longer than thirty minutes), and Jake smiles at the sight, letting her nestle in to his embrace as he gazes through the glass ceiling above them to watch the stars.  

He already knows that he won’t be able to find anything brighter than their future up there in the darkness, but for now, he’s content to watch the world pass them by for just a little bit longer.  

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @cakelanguage!

Wishing you lots of joy this holiday season, I hope you enjoy your gift ☺

Merry Christmas!

Read on AO3

*****

Calling Dr. Love

Magnus heard the Lightwoods before he saw them. Of the three siblings, he only knew Isabelle, and even then he'd only spoken to her over the phone once, but the coffee shop where they'd arranged to meet was quiet and the Lightwoods were making quite a ruckus as they walked in. Magnus stood up and turned around, a polite smile already prepared and ready to start evaluating his newest client - and his mind promptly went blank when he finally saw them.

Magnus was a dating consultant, one of the best in the business. People came to him when they needed help navigating the confusing world of relationships and dating, especially with the things like dating apps and speed dating sites muddying the waters, and Magnus was known for having a magic touch - teaching his clients tips and tricks on how to not just snag that first date with their dream person, but form a steady, long-term relationship with them. Magnus usually preferred to know as little about his client as possible before the first face-to-face meeting, so that he could get a more accurate first impression and know what he was working with, so he didn't know which of the two men with Isabelle was the brother he was supposed to help. But he had never hoped so badly that it was the shorter blond one instead of the tall, dark-haired man with the striking hazel eyes who was having a whispered argument with his siblings.

"Um, hi," tall, dark, and handsome said when he noticed Magnus, his eyes widening slightly.

"Hi, you must be Magnus!" Isabelle beamed and nudged her dark-haired brother forward. "This is Alec."

"It's very nice to meet you, Alec," Magnus said, swallowing his disappointment. It was fine - he was a professional, and there was a reason why he'd sworn off dating, ironic as it was.

They all took a seat and Magnus let them talk - or rather, Isabelle talked, with the occasional jibe from Jace. Alec just crossed his arms and scowled. He learnt that Alec was the eldest of four siblings, hadn't been in a steady relationship since college, and he worked as an accountant. He supposedly had been nursing a crush on a co-worker named Andrew, and Isabelle thought the office Christmas party that was happening in two weeks was the best opportunity for Alec to finally ask him out.

"Who's Andrew?" Alec asked with a frown, the first time he'd spoken since he'd said 'hi'.

"The guy from IT? The one you went to say 'hi' to that day when we went out to dinner with Mom?" Isabelle supplied helpfully.

"Oh, Underhill. I didn't know his name was Andrew," Alec said, and Magnus started to wonder if Alec's siblings had the right information. Why would Alec not know the name of the guy he was supposedly interested in?

"I'm glad that both of you are so supportive of your brother, but do you think I could have a chance to conduct the rest of this session just with Alec?" Magnus asked.

"Sure. Have fun!" Isabelle said immediately, and she and Jace both made themselves scarce.

Alec watched them wave at him from across the street, waiting until they were out of sight, then turned back to Magnus and said, "Look, I'm going to be honest with you. I'm not interested in Underhill, and I have no idea why my siblings think that I am."

"So are you saying that you're not actually in need of my services? Not that someone with a face like yours needs my help," Magnus said, and couldn't resist dropping a flirty wink. It would be kind of a relief, but also kind of a terrible tragedy if he didn't have an excuse to meet Alec again, but he had made a promise to himself years ago.

Alec licked his lips nervously. "Wait. I mean, I could probably use some general tips," he said hurriedly. "Besides, I know Izzy means well, and she went to all this trouble of hiring you."

"I tend to work better if you have a specific person in mind. My forte is in helping you present yourself in a way that will fit what your dream date is looking for, and everyone is looking for something different," Magnus explained.

"Oh. Isn't that cheating? I wouldn't want to get into a relationship with someone, then realise that they weren't really the person I thought they were," Alec pointed out.

"I don't mean that you should lie about who you are, just that you should show the facet of your personality that is the most appealing to them. It's really no different from putting in a bit more effort to dress up for a first date," Magnus said with a laugh. "The goal is to get your foot in the door, let them give you a chance. The rest is up to the both of you to figure out together."

"Ok. I may have someone in mind. But what if I don't know anything about him?" Alec asked.

Magnus plastered on a smile. He should have known that Alec was already interested in someone else. "Then Google is your friend. You'll be surprised at the digital trail people leave behind."

Alec wrinkled his nose. "That seems kind of invasive. No offence."

Magnus smiled and shook his head, waving off his apology. "Then try the old-school method. Do you have any mutual friends or acquaintances?"

"Yes, maybe. Or I could just go up and ask him," Alec said.

"Oh no. No, no, no. That'd be tipping your hand, and you'll have already made a first impression without the help of my expert advice," Magnus said, winking. "So why don't you find out more about this guy you like, and we'll meet in a few days, say..." Magnus flipped through his calendar on his phone. "...Wednesday? During your lunch break?"

"Sure," Alec said, then quickly added, "Ok, you don't have to answer this, but since you're a relationship expert, I'm assuming you're happily attached."

"Are you questioning my credentials, Mr Lightwood?" Magnus teased. "Actually, I'm currently single, and I prefer it that way. In this line of business, personal relationships and emotions may make me biased and compromise my ability to advise my clients."

Alec frowned but nodded in understanding. "Sorry, should I pay you for this session?"

"Oh, don't worry, the initial consultation is free. You can pay me when you land your first date," Magnus replied.

"You're really confident about this. Do your tips really work on everyone? What if they say they're not interested?" Alec asked.

"Not interested at all, because they're not into men or romantic relationships in general, or just not interested right now?" Magnus asked. "Maybe they'll tell you they need some space, or that they're focussing on their career, but what they're really doing is brushing you off without really thinking about it - because they don't even know you, so why should they give you the time of the day? The thing is, nobody wakes up thinking 'I hope I don't get to meet the person of my dreams today'. Even the most confident of us don't necessarily know what we want until we see it, and sometimes as part of my job I do a little bit of, well, engineering to create the circumstances for them stop and actually see you. But if you never give it a shot, you'll never know if it would have worked out."

"That's what I thought," Alec agreed.

--

When Wednesday rolled around, Magnus was both dreading and looking forward to seeing Alec again. On one hand, nobody could complain about having an excuse to look at that gorgeous face, but on the other hand, Magnus would have to sit there listening about the person who had caught Alec's attention.

The place that Alec had suggested was a cross between a blue-plate diner and coffee shop, and Magnus started to get the feeling that he was in trouble when Alec actually pulled out his chair for him like they were in a fancy restaurant. The place was worryingly quiet for lunch hour, but Alec was obviously a regular (and a creature of habit) because the waitress knew him by name and just asked if he was going to want his usual.

"What do you recommend?" Magnus asked.

"The breakfast stuff is pretty good, and there're vegan options too - I wasn't sure if you had any dietary preferences."

"I don't, but thank you for thinking of that," Magnus said with a smile.

They made small talk while waiting for the food to arrive, and Magnus couldn't help feeling that the quiet and cosy atmosphere, with both of them sequestered in a corner table, was a bit too intimate for his own good.

"So, what's the name of this guy you're interested in?" he asked Alec, turning the conversation to business.

"Um... Harold," Alec replied, tugging on his earlobe in a sudden nervous gesture and not quite meeting Magnus' eyes, looking down at Magnus' hands instead.

Magnus tried not to frown. It was ridiculous, but he already disliked the guy just based on his name. Alec and Harold sounded terrible together.

"What's he like?"

"He's my sister's friend and he runs his own business. My sister said he's into men as well as women, but honestly, I think he's kinda out of my league," Alec said.

"I very much doubt that, but what makes you think so?"

"He's really confident and vibrant, and he dresses well."

"You're a pretty smart dresser yourself," Magnus said with a smile. "Dark colours, simple but classic. You seem like you know what you like, and you don't strike me as being timid or lacking in confidence."

Alec shrugged. "I guess I'm just afraid that he's going to find me boring. My life is mostly work and family, maybe a drink at the pub with friends now and then."

"Switch out family for my cat and that sounds like me," Magnus said, laughing. "First rule, don't go in assuming you know them just because of what they look like."

"Ok, that's good advice," Alec said with a grin.

"Second rule, make an effort but keep your expectations low. Hopefully it leads to a serious relationship, but for now, you're just getting to know each other. Which leads me to another point I wanted to bring up - don't make your first date with this guy your office Christmas party. Even if he's a colleague, going to an event together makes people assume that you're already a couple, and that's too much pressure for a first date, or even a second date. At least take him out for lunch or coffee first, just the two of you."

"And if he agrees to go out with me, then what? I'm not very good at starting conversations."

"Just be present in the moment and pay attention to what he's saying, and you'll find your opening," Magnus said reassuringly.

Alec hummed and nodded. "Ok, I can do that."

The waitress came by with their food, briefly interrupting their conversation, and after she left, Alec cleared his throat.

"By the way, did you say that you had a cat?" Alec asked.

--

Magnus got back to his office at a little before two in the afternoon, but he was already ready to call it a day. Clary, who was a talented but struggling artist by night and his trusty personal assistant by day, looked up with a bright smile when he came in, but her face fell immediately.

"Are you ok? What happened?"

"Alec Lightwood is going to be the one client who ruins my perfect success rate," Magnus groaned. "Instead of talking about this guy I'm supposed to help him set up a date with, we spent his entire lunch break arguing about the relative merits of cats and dogs as pets."

Clary laughed in relief. "I don't know, that sounds like a great lunch meeting."

Magnus had to admit that it had been a really enjoyable lunch, but that was the problem. "I don't think I should keep him as a client. He paid for my lunch and pulled out my chair for me, Clary. And I have to confess that if I'd been in the market for a relationship - which I'm not - he'd be exactly my type. I'm probably not the best person to try to help him get this date with another guy."

"You're a professional, you can do it! I believe in you," Clary said cheerfully. "Besides, like you said, you're not interested in a relationship."

"Thank you for that vote of confidence," Magnus said wryly. "You know what, why don't you take the rest of the day off? I'm going to need to do some serious thinking to help get Alec at least one date with his dream guy within the next week, so that he'll have a date for his office Christmas party."

"Thank you!" Clary chirped, grabbing her messenger bag.

"Ah, I know that look - you're going to meet the mysterious girlfriend," Magnus said, smiling at Clary's infectious glee and excitement.

"You'll get a chance to meet her very soon," Clary promised, and Magnus couldn't help feeling just a little bit envious of her happiness as he watched her leave.

--

Resolving to keep his distance from Alec, Magnus decided to text Alec instead of arranging additional face-to-face meetings to coach Alec on how to plan the perfect first date. Unfortunately, they'd had as much luck sticking to business talk on the phone as they'd had at their lunch meeting, and they were currently sending each other pictures of the strangest creatures people kept as pets while Magnus was supposed to be catching up with his friends over drinks.

"Who the hell have you been texting all night?" Catarina suddenly asked.

"What? Nobody. A client," Magnus said quickly, shoving his phone back inside his pocket and taking a sip of his martini, only his first for the night because he'd been too busy texting Alec.

"And exactly what type of person is your client into? Considering you two were sending each other photos of lizards and octopuses," Ragnor said snidely.

"Mind your own business," Magnus said with a scowl, then scowled harder when his two friends exchanged a meaningful look. "He's a client. You know that means that he came to me with someone he's already interested in, and it's my job to help him get a date with this person."

"But he's sending you pictures of tentacles on a Friday night," Ragnor observed. "I'm not the relationship guru and even I know what that means."

"You know, if you were interested in him too, you could probably wipe out the competition without much effort," Catarina said. "What do you know about this guy he's interested in?"

Confident, vibrant, smart dresser, self-employed, bisexual, and a friend of Alec's sister. Wait a minute... On a hunch, Magnus glanced at his own hands and suddenly noticed that the watch on his wrist, a birthday gift from Ragnor, had the brand "Harold Pinchbeck" printed on the watch face.

Magnus' phone vibrated in his pocket and he dug it out to read the latest message from Alec, ignoring his friends' annoyingly smug looks.

Hey, I think I've got an idea for my date with Harold. Are you free on Monday afternoon for me to take you out on a test-run?

Ordinarily, Magnus would have declined without a second thought because he had a better sense of self-worth than that, except that he was starting to suspect that he knew exactly who "Harold" was. He dithered on his response for a while, then finally typed "Sure" and sent it before his common sense caught up with him.

--

"Where are we going?" Magnus asked.

"I told you, it's a surprise," Alec replied with a grin.

"A surprise location for a first date is a really bad idea, Alexander. It puts you in an uneven power position and is more likely to go wrong, since you don't know your date that well yet," Magnus scolded.

"But you also said that a first date should be memorable, and that people tend to remember things that they didn't expect," Alec countered. "Anyway, we're here."

"Beekeeping?" Magnus said in amusement as he stepped into the shop with Alec.

"Introductory class to urban beekeeping, followed by a honey tasting session," Alec clarified.

Magnus arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm sure this has nothing to do with the conversation we had about exotic pets."

"You did say to try to plan a date that might be in line with common interests," Alec replied, barely hiding his smile.

Magnus made a face at him, which made Alec laugh, but in the end he had to admit that Alec had planned a date that followed all of Magnus' rules. It was unusual, activity-based to minimise awkward silences, intellectually stimulating, and definitely memorable.

"How did I do?" Alec asked as they were walking out.

"Well, I'm sure Harold will enjoy himself as much as I did," Magnus said drily, then added a bit more seriously. "I had a lot of fun today, Alexander. Thank you."

Alec flashed him a lopsided grin and cleared his throat. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but why did you decide to quit dating?"

"Oh Alexander, that was one of my cardinal rules - don't bring up the exes on your first date," Magnus tutted.

Alec's lips quirked up a little. "But this isn't a date, so it doesn't count," he said softly. "Does it?"

Magnus heaved a sigh in mock exasperation and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, a little tempted not to reply, but honesty as the best policy was another of his own rules. "I decided to take a break from dating because I was tired of having my heart broken. My job is to help other people find love, but my own relationships seemed to be my blind spot, and I just seemed to be looking for love in all the wrong places."

"But someone once told me that if you don't give it a shot, you'll never know if it would've worked out," Alec said, repeating his own words back to him. "I hear he's kind of an expert in this stuff, you should take his advice."

Magnus laughed. "Alright, smartass. Then ask me out properly."

Alec grinned and ducked his head, then squared his shoulders and looked Magnus straight in the eye with a slightly more serious expression.

"Magnus, will you go out with me on a proper date tomorrow night?"

"Only if you let me take you out to dinner first. Right now, if you're not in a hurry to go somewhere else," Magnus said.

"Deal," Alec replied with a grin, and offered Magnus his arm.

--

And that was how Magnus found himself at Alec's office Christmas party that weekend as his date. Unfortunately, as expected the party was boring, served greasy finger food and cheap alcohol, and was full of people Magnus didn't know. But Alec had promised him that they could leave to do their own thing after he'd dropped off his secret Santa present, so Magnus was just walking around people-watching until Alec came back. He certainly hadn't been expecting to spot a very familiar face at the party.

"Clary?"

"Magnus! I was looking for you," Clary greeted him enthusiastically, kissing him on the cheek.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"My girlfriend works in the research and development department here," Clary explained. "I think you've met her. Izzy, I found him!"

At the sound of her voice, Clary's girlfriend squeezed her way through the crowd at the drinks table to meet them, and she turned out to be none other than Isabelle Lightwood.

Magnus narrowed his eyes at the two girls, who were looking entirely too pleased with themselves. "Oh no, you didn't."

"What's going on?" Alec asked, appearing behind Magnus. "Wait, do you know Clary?"

"She's my personal assistant. It appears we've been the victims of a setup, Alexander."

"We were just applying all the tips I picked up from Magnus," Clary said mischievously. "Sometimes two people just need a bit of engineering to create the circumstances for them to see each other."

"After all, who matchmakes the matchmaker?" Izzy stated airily. "Besides, I think Clary and I did a pretty good job."

Magnus exchanged a look with Alec that was both exasperation and fondness for the two girls, and eventually Alec just shrugged and grinned.

"Ok, yes, you did a good job," Magnus conceded.

"I'm done, do you wanna get out of here?" Alec asked.

Magnus nodded and they said their goodbyes to Clary and Izzy. The streets were full of people hurrying off somewhere, so Alec put an arm lightly around Magnus' waist and Magnus leaned into the touch.

"You know, you never did give me any dating tips past the first date rules," Alec said.

"Since we're already on our third 'official' date, not counting the beekeeping, I doubt you need me to give you more dating tips," Magnus pointed out.

"What about tips on when to go in for the first kiss?" Alec asked.

Magnus smiled to himself. "Whenever it feels right for both of you."

As they stopped at a crosswalk waiting for it to turn green, Alec pulled him a little closer. "How about now?"

"Perfect," Magnus murmured.

Magnus tilted his chin up to meet Alec's lips and they stood there kissing, heedless of the people milling around them, until the lights turned green, then red, and back to green again.

[jiminies-ahmee]

Brother!EXO Reaction:

Seeing a picture of when the two of you were younger

Requested by the lovely @yuniv-bluetea, I hope you like it xx 

“The reader is the younger sister of EXO and they find an old picture of them together somewhere.” 

M I N S E O K

Minseok was taking advantage of EXO’s two month break to visit his family, and of course, you. His little sister. He set his bag down in his room, grinning as he reminisced the days of his youth he spent cooped up in this room.

He sat on the edge of the small single bed off to the side of the room, his eyes flickering over all the little knick-knacks he’d collected as a child, but most importantly, the pictures. All the polaroids taken in those years to highlight important moments in his family’s life.

He stood up, his hands reaching for an album of photos tucked away in a bookshelf. The cover of it was a bright orange, making it stick out like a sore thumb amongst all the comics and children’s books. Flicking through the pages carefully, he chuckled to himself, snapping a quick picture of the photos on his phone to show the members.

He suddenly came across a picture of you and him, big smiles spread across the both of your cheeks as he rested his chin on your head. His smile faltered slightly at the sight of it, realising that this really was how his life had been not so long ago. The two of you had been so very close and you still were, but the both of your lives currently seemed so different to be picture.

J U N M Y E O N

Being back at home was very much a needed moment for Junmyeon. After travelling all over the world and only seeing his parents and you through a screen, the feeling of homesickness began to set in. Though your mother had been insisting on inviting all the family over for dinner in honour of Junmyeon’s arrival, you knew a big crowd was something he certainly wouldn’t want.

And so, the four of you found yourselves sitting on the couch after dinner, the television playing old videos taken in your’s and Junmyeon’s childhood. But it seemed your brother was more interested in the albums your mother had brought out for him to see. From them he recalled all those funny and sometimes sad stories captured within the image, a smile etching its way across his face as he couldn’t help but feel so… Happy. Seeing pictures of you and himself playing around in the backyard of your old house, climbing trees in the parks and just simply enjoying every moment meant everything to him.

And perhaps he didn’t show it as often as he should, you knew your brother felt that the tight-knit connection of your family was so very special to him.

B A E K H Y U N

It was quite obvious to everyone around you that you and Baekhyun had quite a close relationship, being the only children in your family. You both quite literally only had each other, and you didn’t mind that. You’d been going through boxes of miscellaneous items in the basement, in search of your parents’ wedding album. You coughed slightly at the dust particles in the small room and moved over to a pile of boxes in a corner of the room. Opening the first one you could get your hands on, you pulled out an album. Finally, you thought with relief before opening it to find a picture of a young you and Baekhyun sleeping on the couch. You frowned, realising you had never seen these photos before and continues flicking through the pages. Pictures of the both of you in different parts of the world, playing dress-ups in the living room and feeding each other.

Your smile grew with each picture and you pulled your phone out, taking snaps of some of the photos to send to your brother. Upon hearing the numerous notifications from his phone, Baekhyun burst into tears having not seen you in so long. He saved each photo to his phone, setting his favourite one as his phone wallpaper to carry you everywhere with him.

Just know the next flight you’d be catching would be to your older brother’s side and you had absolutely no problem with that.

K Y U N G S O O

Kyungsoo was probably the best brother out there in your opinion, but many would say you were being biased. He’d cared for you since you could remember and had definitely taken his role as older brother quite seriously. He always carried a photo of the two of you with him when he was away on tour, always promising to come back and take you out to catch up.

It was late at night and the group had just finished learning the choreography for their upcoming comeback. Everyone had left, all of them ready to get into bed and switch off for a while before getting back to the studio again tomorrow. Kyungsoo, however, stayed back, panting slightly as he sat, leaning against the mirror. He pulled out the photo of the two of you, a smile etching across his lips as he sighed, head resting against the cool surface of the mirror. His thumb brushed over you face, chuckling to himself slightly as the story behind the photo came back to him in flashbacks.

Your parents had sent you out to the backyard to get some fresh air after spending most of the day indoors. The two of you had been making quite a racket before your parents had noticed you’d both gone silent. Anxiously, they made their way outside to see you and Kyungsoo ‘baking cakes’ with dirt and stray flowers that had grown in the garden.

Though Kyungsoo had pursued another dream of his, you’d gone on to make both yours and his dream a reality. You’d been accepted to a culinary school. Kyungsoo had helped you over numerous Skype calls with techniques and simple recipes he’d learnt over the years. You, his little sister, were his pride.

C H A N Y E O L

Chanyeol had always been known as the goofy, clumsy one, not only to his fans and band members, but to you too. You giggled as he tripped over his own feet on the screen, the beanie propped on his head sliding off slightly. He chuckled, moving his chair to sit in it. He sighed, his eyes trained on the computer screen which had a photo of you and him as kds as its desktop.

“So, we’ll be seeing each other in two weeks. You must be excited.” Your brother smirked. You rolled your eyes in response, his cockiness hadn’t changed one bit.

“Oh yeah, because I totally want to hear all my friends go on and on about how good-looking you are.” You groaned, shaking your head. Chanyeol laughed, his attention moved towards a framed photo on his desk which he reached over to grab.

He sat back in his seat, showing the picture to the camera. “Well, we are siblings after all, so you’ve got some of my good-looking genes in that DNA of yours.” Chanyeol joked. You laughed, moving closer to the screen to get a better look at the photo.

“I didn’t know you had a picture of us.” Chanyeol turned the picture back to himself, forwning.

“Of course I would, this thing has gone around the world with me. Gotta keep my little sister close to me.”

J O N G D A E

The boys knew how low Jongdae had been feeling lately. They’d finished promoting their new album and along with exhaustion came frustration and homesickness. Junmyeon had called you over the phone to explain the situation of your brother’s problem and you decided to send a picture of the two of you to him.

Though it made him cry and he wasn’t about to deny that to you, he felt much better being ablle to speak to you, even if it was over text. He posted the picture to the group’s Twitter account, as well as setting it as his wallpaper.

And, as a surprise, you planned to meet Jongdae secretly to cheer him up just that little more. As you pushed open the door to the dorm you could hear Jongdae whining about why Baekhyun hadn’t returned earlier. Bursting into a fit of giggles at how immature your older brother still was, you peeked your head around the hallway, Jongdae’s eyes going wide at the realization that it was you.

Y I X I N G 

Yixing had made it his number one priority to keep contact with you whilst he was away on tour. Though you talked everyday, seeing you through a screen and  in person were very different things and he couldn't deny that he was beginning to get sick of the Skype calls. 

Though his emotions were just teetering over the edge, it was a photo your mother had sent to him one day after a concert that Yixing had had enough. You were his confidante, always there for him while he did the same for you. The both of you had been so close from the beginning and it seemed like he just couldn’t get used to having you so far away. He immediately pulled a few strings to get you over to him, and within 3 days you were back by your brother’s side, watching him from side stage as his number one fan. 

S E H U N 

The age difference between yourself and Sehun wasn’t big and the both of you were quite content with that. You both got along well (most of the time), the time spent with one another was filled with laughter, a bit of bickering and good memories. 

The two of you were spending time after Sehun’s return home from tour, the both of you had been binge-watching a drama, but were in the midst of a small break. Your mother had been cleaning out a few things, several boxes scattered around the living room. You rolled onto your side, reaching over to one box to pull out an album. You beckoned for Sehun to lay beside you, the two of you flicking through the pages of it. Most of the pictures were of your parents when they had fist met through to their wedding day. 

Then came the pictures of Sehun after he had been born. You giggled at one particular photo of him with food all over his hands and face, “You used to make a mess of things back then too.” You joked, Sehun poking his tongue out at you in retaliation. “Aw, look, it’s us two!” You exclaimed suddenly. 

Sehun looked over the picture, a soft smile on his face as he glanced from the photo to you. He realised you hadn’t changed one bit. But he was completely okay with that. 

J O N G I N 

Jongin had been on a FaceTime call with your mum, the both of them chatting away about how their days had been going, what they planned on doing tomorrow. You had moved away from home to study abroad and it had been a long time since Jongin had seen or even heard from you. He decided that it was probably best not to distract you from your studies, but a part of him thought he wasn’t being a good older brother by doing so.

“Ah, Jongin, I went in to get something from Y/N’s room the other day and look what I found.” Jongin raised his eyebrows in anticipation as your mother left the view of the camera, popping back with a frame in hand. “Look at how adorable my children were once upon a time.” Jongin watched as your mother flipped the frame around, the image encased behind the glass facing him now. 

Jongin gulped, a faltering smile forming on his face as he saw that the picture was of you and him many years ago on your first day of school. The both of you were in school uniform, bright smiles on your faces and Jongin’s heart shattered at the sight of it. 

“Mum, I have to go really quickly. I need to call Y/N.” 

[creativeashproductions]

The Roommate // Steve Harrington

Summary: Finding out your college dorm roommate is a male was a shock but it slowly turns good when a tragedy brings forth your feelings. Soon you head to his hometown when an embarrassing situation happens when a certain curly haired boy decides to break in to see his ‘older brother’.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Reader, Dustin Henderson, Mr and Mrs Harrington

Words: 2434

Prompts # 5. “Damn you are a kinky motherfucker….I like it.”     15. “Well this is awkward…blueberry?”     26. “Wait, where are my clothes?”

Disclaimer: I do not own Stranger Things or the characters involved. I only own the Reader and her plot. I also do not own any gifs or images that may appear in this either. The desktop theme provides the owner of the gifs. I only own the prompts and plot of this.

Warnings: Swearing, death, angst, fluff and nudity

Author: Caitsy.

Requested: @maryland03

A/N: I tried to make the reader a POC but it may not have completely been obvious. I tried to make it so the reader can be relatable to many audiences.

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First year of college and it was already starting at a shitty pace from the minute you stepped into your dorm room. Somehow the college had accidentally paired you with someone of the opposite sex. You knew it the minute you walked in to see the teen male throwing a ball in the air that you’re adult life was already starting off shitty.

“Are you fucking kidding me.” You groaned dropping your bag on the ground with a huge thump.

“Can I help you?” The teen spoke sitting up on the average sized bed.

“Please tell me your the boyfriend of my roommate.” You begged with him.

“No this is my room and I’m guessing you’re my roommate?” Steve trailed off slowly taking in your form with as little interest as he could display. He was royally fucked because you were attractive.

“There has to be a mistake.” You cried tossing your other bags on the unmade bed on the other side of his. You sat down in despair trying to figure out a way to fix this mess but of course you had demanded you get the full college experience from your parents.

“We can make this work.”

“I don’t know you. How do I know you won’t check me out?!” You exclaimed towards him. He shrugged easily climbing to his feet and walking over to you.

“I’m Steve Harrington, freshmen.” He introduced holding his hand out. You hesitantly shook his head speaking up in a more friendly manner.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Also a freshmen.”

He hummed before bending down near his nightstand to open it up to a tiny little safe he had brought at the urging of his parents. He grabbed his wallet from inside and motioned you to follow him out of the door.

“We should get to know one another over some food.” Steve said at the doorway, “I got here two days ago and I’ve been mapping out the area.”

You were hesitant to join him with the words of safety from your detective father back in your small city. He had nailed it into you and your siblings minds about protecting yourself in any way and touring the city with a stranger was a huge problem with that logic.

“Where you from?” Steve asked shoving his hands deep in his light wash denim jeans.

“A small city near the college.” You answered, “You?”

“Hawkins, Indiana.”

“That’s a long ways away.”

“I was going to stick around Hawkins for a year for my girlfriend but that failed.” Steve mumbled shrugging as you walked down the decently populated streets.


“What happened?”

“Things didn’t work out. She fell in love with a mutual friend and called our relationship bullshit.” Steve sighed, “I’m over it. I’ll always love her but I’m not in love with her anymore.”

You were quiet remembering the breakup with your first serious boyfriend back in high school and while mutual it hurt still. You had given everything to him and he decided it wasn’t good when he left for college. Dating someone a year older wasn’t always the smartest thing to do especially when you believe you’ll have a life together.

“How long ago?” You asked looking at him.

“I’d say about a year ago.” Steve shrugged tugging you into a diner with a comically sized milkshake.

“I’m sorry.”

“It was for the best.” Steve shrugged again sitting down in a blood red booth near the jukebox playing some current popular song, “Learnt I was a shitty boyfriend but I discovered a passion.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m pretty good with kids. I started to babysit Nancy’s siblings and her brother’s friends in the last few months of my senior year and the summer.” Steve smiled thinking of the Party he left back in his hometown and the shit show that went down.

“Do you talk to them often?” You questioned leaning back.

“Yeah. This one shithead calls me every single night and it’s always about making sure I’m settling in.” Steve chuckled.

“Sounds like he misses you already.” You softly answered quickly giving the waiting waitress in the mint green dress uniform your order.

“He wouldn’t ever admit to that.” Steve laughed leaning back in the booth, “Sometimes I think he’s older than me.”

“How old is he?”

“Fourteen I think.” Steve frowned, “I know he’s not old enough to teach to drive but he is in his teens now.”

You noticed people were giving you odd looks from the stark difference between you from the colour of your skin to your hair. Steve was a more pale white with a massive hive of brown hair and some moles on his body. You however had coloured skin and thick dark brown black hair that was a monster itself.

“You sound like a proud father.”

“You know one of the shitheads jokingly called me ‘Mom’ and it’s actually relatable.” Steve laughed impishly.

“I want to meet them.” You grinned leaning back. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having him around as a roommate.

Halfway through your first year of college you received devastating news from your mother, in the early hours tragedy struck. In a fit of tears your mom explained your father had been gunned down on the job by a gang in retaliation.

You dropped to your knees releasing an anguished scream as the phone dropped from your fingers swiping on the cord from the wall.

“Y/N?!” Steve screamed skidding on his knees in the common room. He wrapped you in his arms as you sank into his body unsure if you could recover.

“Hello?” Steve asked into the phone holding your shattered form, “Who is this?”



“T-This is Y/M/N. I’m-I’m Y/N’s mom.” Your mother stuttered to the tall boys confusion. In quick words Steve learned the destructive news and swept you up into his arms to head back to your dorm room.

“Hey it’s okay. I’m here.” Steve cooed rocking you on his bed slowly. You pushed away to open your closet to grab your duffle bag. You started shoving items inside before Steve brushed your hands away, “What are you doing?”


“I have to go home.” You sobbed pushing him away to pack your toothbrush. You weren’t entirely sure what you had packed but you didn’t care when your Dad was laying in a morgue.

“No. You need to sit.” Steve sternly said leading you to your desk chair where he knelt before you, “Take a deep breath.”

You did as requested albeit a shaky one but with soothing words you slowly began to calm down even if you were still torn up. You didn’t know how long you were crying before you settled into a sleep. When you woke up you were tightly held in Steve’s sleeping arms on his bed.

“Hey.” Steve whispered softly as he woke up. Tears began to leak from your eyes when the reality set in.

“I have to go.” You whispered.


“I know.”

You sat up in shock when you noticed two of your bags packed and leaning against your bed with another suitcase beside it. You sat in silence as you looked at Steve in absolute shock.

“You’re coming with me?” You gasped shocked.

“Of course. I can’t leave my best girl to drive alone.” Steve said brushing your hair off your face. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as more tears fell from your cheeks. It took everything in you to not kiss him.

The road trip was quiet with little music played as your hands twisted the ring on your finger that your father had given you. You stilled when you felt Steve grip your hand in his tightly. By the time you had pulled up to your childhood home you were frozen.

“Come on.” Steve soothed helping you out of the car to the door. You opened it to see familiar faces milling around the room and in the centre was your mother.

“Mom.” You breathed wrapping her up in a huge hug. The twin set of tear tracks matching yours, “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Mom cooed brushing the falling tears from your face. Even in her darkest moment she only cared about you.

“Where’s Y/S/N.” You slowly asked looking for your younger sister.

“She’s in the backyard.” Mom whispered glancing to see Steve close to you, “Who’s this?”



“This is my roommate Steve.” You lightly blushed looking up at him. Mom sent a curious look at you before she stepped forward to greet him. You took this time to head out to your backyard when your little sister was.

Cross legged on the trampoline in a dark black dress was your fifteen year old sister playing to a piece of clothing. You kicked off your shoes to crawl up next to her. When your hand wrapped around hers she broke down. It set you off. 
Together you cried both of your souls anguished at the loss of the role model you had looked up at.

“I miss him.” She whimpered in your arms, “How am I going to go on?”

“I know. We’ll get through this together.” You whispered. There was so much you had lost with your Dad’s death from the bad jokes to the future weddings.

“Why him?”

“I don’t know.” You spoke kissing the top of her head just aching for the loss your sister had. Dad and her had been the closest out of your siblings with a set of interests that matched exactly.

The funeral was the worst of it from the routine events with your father’s department to the thick sadness coating the air. Nothing would be the same. Ever.

You saw your mom speaking to Steve while glancing at your little sister before everyone took their seats. Steve holding your hand tightly before he whispered in your ear.

“Your mom said that in a few months your sister’s father daughter dance is happening. I’m going to take her as a big brother.” That was when the floodgates opened.

Months passed by with many breakdowns at school with Steve there to catch you and in the dark times you bonded more with Steve. Midnight trips to the diner began to change, shared milkshakes and teasing until he kissed you that one night and soon a relationship began.

You went separate ways at Christmas to be with your families but countless calls were made during the duration of the holidays. Soon the New Year came and went until Spring Break came around and Steve asked you to come home with him. You accepted when your Mom said she was going to your grandparents in another country for the time with your sister.

“This is the high school I went to.” Steve said from the warm car. His hand clasped in yours as you drove to his house, “I played basketball here.”

“It’s so small.” You breathed watching as you drove passed.

“Well you grew up in a city.” Steve chuckled as he pulled into his childhood home. He noticed his parents cars in the driveway and a shot of excitement went through his veins.

The door opened to reveal his mother standing there as familiar as the day he left. It was rare she was home but when she was it was like being a family again.

“Mom.” Steve breathed as his mother hugged him tight. He pulled back when you reached him, “This is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N, this is my Mom.”

“Nice to meet you Mrs. Harrington.” You shyly spoke as she ushered you into the living room.

“It’s my pleasure.” She smiled as Steve’s father stopped at the sight of you. He had expected to see a white girl with straight hair and blue eyes but instead it was you.

“Dad this is Y/N.”

“Well you’re nothing like I expected.” Mr. Harrington said shaking his head, “My apologies.”

“It’s okay.” You smiled.

“I’m sorry about your father.” Mrs. Harrington smiled as you looked down with a mumbled thanks.

“Steve, your father and I have to run into Indianapolis tomorrow. We’re leaving in a few moments.” Mrs. Harrington apologized with a small frown. Steve wasn’t disappointment like he would have been back in high school, he had accepted his parents lifestyle.

“Okay.” Steve mumbled as he watched them carry their bags to the door.

“Call us if you have an emergency.” Mr. Harrington spoke, “Separate bedrooms also.”

The minute they left Steve gave you a tour of the house before showing you to the bathroom where the shower was. You felt sticky from the long drive and wanted to freshen up. When you got out you had forgotten a towel and had no clean clothing.

“Shit.” You whispered peaking outside the door.

You made a mad dash before you accidentally slammed into Steve and you both fell on the ground. Legs wrapped around him he blinked shocked at the sight of his naked girlfriend on the floor just outside his parents bedroom. You gulped as his eyes quickly went to look in his parents bedroom.

“So you walk around naked?” Steve awkwardly asked wincing when you tensed at the feeling of his hard on.

“You literally just looked at your parents bedroom…while I’m naked under you…damn you are a kinky mother fucker… I like it.” You trailed off trying to make light of the embarrassing situation. Steve had never actually seen you naked, sure you had slept together but that was usually under the covers or in dim lighting.

“No! I’m just trying to not think of how your wet body is under mine.” Steve weakly spoke closing his eyes tight.

“I don’t think it’s working.” You drying laughed as his hard on twitched against you. You both went to get up when a voice broke the air.

“Well this is awkward…blueberry?” You screamed at the stranger while Steve fell flat to cover you.

“Dustin!” Steve shouted at the boy.

“Hey buddy!” Dustin smiled not caring of the situation at hand.

“Turn around!” Steve shouted as Dustin’s eyes grew and looked at your bare legs wrapped around Steve’s waist.

“Oh. OH.” Dustin screamed closing his eyes and running into a wall in his haste to get to the living room, “I’ll be in here.”

Steve rushed to help you off the floor and help you into the bathroom before he started to hurry to the living room to reprimand Dustin.

“Wait! Where are my clothes?” You shouted to your retreating boyfriend as he cursed and came back with his shirt in hand.

“When your finished come to the living room.” Steve sighed, “I have to deal with the cock block downstairs.”

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@bilesmccall

[odderancyart]

Birthday

Tangled AU

Part 1: Adoption

Part 3: The Stranger

After The End: A Happily Ever After

Mostly domestic fluff, with some tones of Mother Gothel’s awful parenting (child neglect, child abuse, nothing graphic)

Blinking, disoriented, Red felt himself being shook. He let out a small growl, turning around in his bed. Closed his eyes again. Not yet. He didn’t want to wake up yet. Hugging his pillow tighter, he ignored the shaking for as long as he could, but then he felt a light slap on his arm. A warning. Groaning noiselessly, he opened his eyes for real again, yawning as he sat up. Fine. By the bedside, Gothel only gave him a quick glance before ordering him to come. After quickly dragging on a pair of trousers over his nightshirt, Red stumbled out of his small bedroom, still half-asleep.

Quietly, he began to pick up the dishes from whatever she had been cooking this morning. The dish water was pleasantly warm today. Luckily. Doing the dishes with cold water was abhorrent. Red stroked a coil of hair out of his face. He’d need Blue or Gothel to cut it soon, it was getting far too long for his tastes. Unable to help himself, he chuckled silently. His hair was too long.

Once the dishes were done, she was waiting for him. Gothel gave him an impatient look, pointing at the food tray on the table. Obediently, he picked it up. As much as he didn’t like her, it served absolutely no purpose to defy the witch. That was a lesson he’d learnt quickly enough after coming here. Following her steps, Red made his way upstairs, carefully balancing the tray so the overfilled cocoa cup wouldn’t spill anything.

“Happy birthday, my flower,” Gothel sang out as she opened the bedroom door. Her voice was a thousand times friendlier than it was when she spoke to Red. Not that he cared. He’d stopped trying to please her many years ago. Only Blue mattered to her, and even then, Red felt the concern wasn’t entirely sincere. He didn’t know why, it just felt wrong. Far too different from how the orphanage caretaker had cared for them, and they weren’t even her children.

In the bed, the covers moved. Soon, a bright-eyed Blue sat up. She laughed as she looked at them, and at the gift in Gothel’s hands. “Good morning, Mother! Good morning, Red!”

Feeling his slight frown melt into a smile, Red nodded back. Carefully avoiding stepping on the golden locks which spread across the floor, he walked up to the bed to put the tray on the night table. His sister grinned at him, excited. It only grew as Gothel came up to the bed as well, holding up the gift. She bounced in place as she waited. Red could feel his heart warm in his chest. Gods. She was the sweetest.

For a few moments, Gothel held the gift too high. Then she smiled as well, finally giving it to Blue. With a happy gasp, Blue quickly peeled the paper off it. Out fell a small jar, filled with something pink, and another with sunny yellow. Paint.

“Happy birthday,” Gothel repeated as Blue studied it.

After thanking her gleefully, Blue turned to Red, gesturing for him to sit down. Complying, he sank into the soft mattress. Such a soft bed. He smiled at her, pointing at their ‘mother’. What she said. Nodding happily, Blue took the cup of cocoa, sipping at it. Then she held it out to him. Offering him half, as always. Shaking his head gently, he pressed it back to her. It was her birthday. Furthermore, Gothel didn’t like when Blue did that very much. Said it was ungrateful. Red didn’t want her to get into trouble on her birthday.

“Now, Blue, how do you want to celebrate your special day?” Gothel asked sweetly, immediately moving Blue’s attention to her instead. Blue seemed to think, and Red’s eyes widened as she glanced toward the window. No. Don’t ask that. Shaking his head as much as he could without Gothel noticing, he stared intensely at her. Blue didn’t seem to see.

“Can’t we go out, Mother? I’m fifteen now – isn’t that old enough?”

Resisting the urge to sigh loudly, Red watched Gothel carefully. She never reacted well when Blue mentioned going outside. He really had no idea why, the outside wasn’t that bad. But it wasn’t like he could ask, and even if he could he doubted she’d answer. Gothel’s smile froze on her face. Tensely, she petted Blue’s head lightly.

“Oh, no, my darling,” she protested, suddenly squeezing Blue’s cheeks behind her hands. Pecking Blue’s cheek lightly, Gothel shook her head. “We don’t go outside. It’s dangerous. Just ask Red – he’s been there.”

As Blue looked over to him, pleading, Gothel glared at him. Biting his lip, Red nodded. Agreed with Gothel. She’d warned him; encourage Blue’s ‘antics’, and he’d get thrown out. Then he’d be on the streets, and Blue would be alone with Gothel. The disappointment in her eyes made his stomach ache, but he smiled reassuring. They would stay inside, but she’d have a great birthday.

Slowly, Blue nodded, defeated. For a moment, she stayed quiet, before a small smile showed up. “Then… can we have one of those cakes with the purple berries? Red too.”

The corner of Red’s mouth twitched. Good Blue. Whenever she didn’t clarify that, Gothel always tried to pretend like it’d slipped her mind. When both Red and Blue knew perfectly well she just didn’t want to ‘spoil’ him. Like he’d forget he was only here to keep Blue happy if he was given more than necessary. That if Blue grew tired of him, he’d get thrown out without a second thought. It had given him a lot of anxiety when he was little, but by now he knew Blue wouldn’t. Siblings didn’t do that.

Despite still seeming disgruntled, Gothel agreed. Blue’s smile grew, and she quickly jumped up from the bed to hug her. Gothel smiled, embracing her. Yet her smile seemed just a little too sharp for Red’s taste.

“When is your birthday, Red?”

Smiling, Red shrugged as he continued to brush out the long locks of golden hair. The question came every year, and every year Blue got no reply. Honestly, he had no idea, even if he’d been able to answer. He’d been too little to remember dates when he left the orphanage, and Gothel had never bothered to tell him. It wasn’t like it would be celebrated, even if he knew. So it didn’t matter. The hair was soft beneath his hands, oddly enough. They never could wash it properly, and it did spend its days on the floor, so he didn’t know how it stayed so shiny and healthy. Magic, probably.

Blue tilted her head backwards, looking up at him with huge sky-coloured eyes. Pretty. Looking considering, she reached out a hand backwards, brushing it over his. “I’d say it’s a shame you’re mute, so you can’t tell me about the outside, but then you’d never come here. I know Mother doesn’t want to scare me.”

With a soft sigh, Red petted her cheek and nodded. Even then, he grimaced at the thought of Gothel, and Blue giggled. “She’s not that bad. She only wants my best.”

Yeah, sure. Whatever she had to believe for them to stay together. Siblings did that, after all. Stayed together.

“Here’s your cake, flower,” Gothel sang as she handed the piece over to Blue. As her daughter gave her an expectant gaze, she rolled her eyes, quickly handing one to Red too. Unable to help himself, he grinned. Felt a little triumphant; it was always fun when Gothel didn’t have any choice but give him stuff or be ‘the Bad Guy’, as she said it herself. Still, he nodded in thank you. She only scowled.

As he dug in, he couldn’t help but smile. The taste of berries and sugar spread in his mouth. Delicious. At her annoyed gaze, he leaned backwards a little, made himself smaller. Ate quieter. But it was marvellous, and absolutely worth her disgruntlement.

Blue sighed happily as they curled up in the window, looking up at the sky. Blankets covered their bodies as the cool summer breeze fanned them. It was turning dark outside. Night was falling. Taking the last bite of his cake, Red grinned. This was the best part of Blue’s birthday. When Gothel had gone to hers, and the shining lights appeared on the sky. He knew they came from the capital, although he could not remember why. He remembered seeing them up close. Yet somehow, this was better. Prettier than seeing them from the street outside the orphanage, and homelier than seeing them with fifty other orphans.

Suddenly an excited eek came from Blue, and she pointed at the horizon. Shining lights were beginning to appear. “Look!”

Soon, the sky was covered in the lights. In lanterns. Yellow against the dark blue heavens. Smiling, Red watched as they rose, occasionally stealing a glance of his sister’s enchanted expression. Gods. No matter how much he disliked Gothel, he’d be forever grateful that she brought him here. This was life. Blue turned to smile at him, and he carefully mouthed the words, even though they were foreign on his lips, Happy birthday. She happily applauded his attempts.

Yeah. This was life.

[bforbookslut]

Angst and Sexy Take Centre Stage in Rachel van Dyken’s Infraction

I have given Infraction by Rachel van Dyken a ☆☆☆ rating. It is Book 2 of the Players Game series. It is New Adult Contemporary Romance. Skyscape publishes it. It will be published January 9, 2018.

The blurb reads:

Pro footballer Miller Quinton would do anything for his best friend and teammate—including “fake dating” his friend’s sister. What no one knows is that seven months ago in Vegas, Miller and Kinsey did a whole lot more than just kiss. Miller knows that this cheerleader is off-limits to him and any guy on the team. Still, he can’t stop himself.

Kinsey’s whole world is on the verge of crumbling. Her dad has cancer. Her overprotective brother is falling apart. Dating Miller may be a fake-out, but he’s the one guy who can make her forget about everything—including all the reasons she stayed away from football players. With each heated moment, Miller feels more like a safe place…even though he’s not safe at all.

Now temptation is testing every rule in the game of love. But how long can they go on playing when winning is a harder goal than either of them imagined?

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Merry Christmas guys and a Happy New Year! How was your Christmas? It’s always been a quiet affair for me, some time with family and just lazing at home. Keep an eye out for my 2017 wrap-up tomorrow because a new year means a new post! As always, my reviews may contain spoilers. I say may because what’s a spoiler to you may not be a spoiler for me.

I was disappointed with Infraction.

I absolutely adored the first book in this series, Fraternize. It made me laugh, cry and my heart ached with how much it made me feel.

Don’t get me wrong. Rachel van Dyken cannot do any wrong and Infraction was a good read. But, Infraction, felt like it was trying too hard. More often than not, it felt a little extreme, outlandish and lacking a realness. I didn’t devour it like Fraternize and in fact, I will guiltily admit that I was not interested in finishing it.

From the get-go, we know that Kinsey and Miller are going to be together. That’s obvious enough. Because of this, the entire book felt like one messy rollercoaster ride of “can you just fucking work your shit out and get together already???”. On the brighter side, we also learn a great deal about Kinsey and Jax’s background and their sibling relationship (which was turned up to eleven here) and we get to see Miller’s soft side. And, of course, we get more of Rachel van Dyken’s signature hilarious yet charming banter!

For a fake dating story, I expected a lot more unresolved sexual tension but since the sex was already over and done with in Vegas, Infraction was a hell lot more romantic. Once you’re past the sex, it’s all about falling in love and taking off the rose-coloured glasses.

Infraction follows Miller and Kinsey’s journey of being forced together and learning about each other. In the process, they also learn about themselves and naturally, fall in love. Is there a plot? I’d say the most generic one around. Boy meets girl, they fall in love, big drama happens to break them up, there are some tears and heart-to-hearts and then, the happily ever after.

It got a little boring at the halfway mark because Infraction does nothing new. I didn’t care for Jax’s overprotectiveness with Kinsey but if you’re looking for an answer, Infraction gives it to you.

But, finally, the book rounds a beautiful corner! The ending was gorgeous though and it brought tears to my eyes. Hint: it involves family which is such an important thing to both Kinsey and Miller.

We do get a lot less sports in Infraction, despite Jax being team captain and a minor focus of the book. Instead, it looks at domestic and sexual violence and cancer. I think Rachel van Dyken dealt wonderfully with both these topics without turning the romance into a sob story or a medical drama. I do wish Kinsey had more justice when it came to Anderson, her abusive ex, because she deserved it.

Speaking off, naturally, the focus of Infraction is on Kinsey and Miller with some sideshow of Jax. Although, I felt Jax played far too big of a role and took the focus away from Kinsey and Miller with his presence constantly looking over them.

I adored Kinsey’s strength and her feistiness in the first book, but she is reduced to a whiny, tantrum-throwing adult. With every turn of the page, someone had to reassure her of her feelings and “save her”. But after spending an entire life with Jax constantly breathing down her neck and making sure she’s fine, it’s not a surprise.

But the real gem is Miller. He was respectful all the time, even if he constantly wanted to rip Kinsey’s clothes off. He’s such a sweetheart and so caring. While I don’t have a maternal bone in my body so seeing guys do well with kids doesn’t really get me going, but Miller reassuring a dying child just pulled at my heart strings.

What really ticked me off about Infraction was Jax. His overprotectiveness and obsessiveness of Kinsey is unrealistic and I’d say borderline abusive. And the more I learnt of their relationship, the faster the stars dropped. He locked her in on prom night. Yet, no one seems to find that weird or called the cops on him. He has good intentions and he never intended to hurt her; clearly, he isn’t a predator of some sort. But Kinsey’s only reaction is to run away, cry, scream etc instead of confronting him like an independent adult.

I’m glad that in the end, Jax learnt to let go. And Miller had the best line to go with it:

“This is what love looks like, man, it protects, not by keeping everything hidden but by being honest.”

But it still bothers me.

I felt that Jax deserved his own book, if only to work out the mechanics of his relationship with Harley and his God-complex which I felt kept being brushed off and excused. I also felt that Harley deserved a lot more credit and spotlight. She felt unfairly robbed.

Rachel van Dyken is a goddess when it comes to banter. The writing is sexy and charming and laugh-out-loud funny. The push and pull and flirting (unintentional and not) between Miller and Kinsey is adorable. Especially calling each other Chicken and Waffles. Like, hello, guys? That’s something couples do so you’re not fooling anyone.

But, the sex just seemed blah to me. And even the tension just didn’t make my lady bits tingle at all.

Overall, Infraction didn’t leave much of an impression on me. I still loved it because Rachel van Dyken is a goddess but it didn’t live up to my expectations and perhaps, that’s my fault. I loved the previous installment far too much. I do hope there are more installments in this series (please give me the entire team!) because Rachel writes phenomenally and there’s something fresh and light about her writing.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with an ARC copy in exchange for an honest review. This review edition may differ from the final edition.

[kaibagirl007]

Belated Birthday Surprise

The 26th July was a date that Kaiba would never forget after having discovered it’s importance. The significance being that it was in fact his boyfriend’s birthday, something they had both learnt after Ishizu had helped Atem to decipher ancient Egypt’s calendar into modern day format. So it pained him that he’d pretended not to remember at all, though knew it was the only viable option he’d been presented with...

Over the last several months, Kaiba Corporation was struggling,- quite badly,- though he would never let on to the full extent of just how bad things were. Instead Kaiba chose to be seen shrugging it off as nothing more than an unexpected ‘dip' in the economy so as to keep his brother and boyfriend free from worrying. Yet in truth, matters were far worse as he strived to maintain dwindling partnerships.

It wasn’t completely unheard of that his company would have contracts terminated. Though that very rarely happened, and if it did it was because he felt the collaborating business gravely lacked in meeting the standards required of them. But ever since going public and revealing his relationship with Atem, his company had suffered drastically as a result.

Yes he’d been prepared to have the odd one or two bigoted businesses part ways, but hadn’t expected anything like the true scale when over a dozen contracts were ended within the first month of the reveal alone. Of course less than a third had actually had the gall to explain their decision directly. One of them however had even been brazen enough to ‘inform' him of the dishonour brought to his ‘family name', and that the only consolation was the fact that he wouldn’t be able to ‘spawn’ a dynasty of hafus with his chosen lover.

From then on he’d found himself working even longer overtime hours in an attempt to re-nagotiate as many contracts as possible so that only a few projects would be culled, thereby allowing his business to continue to thrive. It hadn’t been easy, and although he still maintained his major partnership with Industrial Illusions,- “I’d never leave you in the lurch dear boy, especially not over something so trivial as your choice of lover. Those narrow-minded enough to have done so don’t deserve to be acquainted with such brilliance as yours. You’re much better off without them trying to hold you to ransom with their discriminatory ways.”,- the withdrawal of smaller outsourced contractors meant that several projects had had to be placed on hold for now. Those included the expansion of KaibaLand theme parks both at home and abroad, his dreams of opening a school specialising in duelling and the building of his very own space station, as well as the his current labour of love in creating a duel disk that was powered by a person’s thoughts.

And had it not been for the fully booked week of numerous meetings,- that unfortunately happened to surround and occur on his boyfriend’s special day,- then he wouldn’t have been fortunate enough to have secured the deal allowing him to proceed with development of the Duel Links game designed for play on touchscreen devices.

Having purposely avoided any living soul that was likely to remind him of the importance of the date in the days leading up to it, the CEO then pled ignorance when his brother finally collared him the following day. A swift ‘apology' with the promise to make it up to Atem then appeased his sibling’s wrath. That then lead him to now; flying to a ‘secret' location.

“How much longer is this going to take?” Atem enquired as he sat in the back seat of the Blue-Eyes jet with a blindfold over his eyes.

“Not long.” Kaiba responded after having checked the remainder of their route on the navigation system. “We’re almost there; perhaps another ten, fifteen minutes max.”

“Very well… But no more loops! I wasn’t joking when I said you were in danger of re-seeing what I had for lunch.”

“No more loops.” He assured with a grin and pushed down harder on the thrusters to make sure they would definitely arrive within the timeframe he’d just given.

After another brief moment’s silence, it was hesitantly broken. “In case you’re wondering Seto, I’ve no ill feelings with you for having forgotten my birthday. Much like you, I’d rather not make a fuss. And it’s the first time in three thousand years that I’ve known the date myself, so I hardly expect anyone else to. You really didn’t have to go to so much trouble-…”

“It’s no trouble at all.” He cut in on the other’s words before he felt even more guilty by being assured that he’d done nothing wrong. “I had this surprise all planned for you. It’s just a little late in being given.”

“Of course it is.” Atem simpered, knowing that his boyfriend was far too proud to admit that the date had slipped his mind due to his busy schedule. That was all the other seemed to do lately; work. The fact that they’d be spending some quality time together was more than he could ask for. And away from Japan where they ‘hopefully’ wouldn’t be sneered at for being a same sex and/or mixed race couple. Yes, these next few days were exactly what the two of them needed.

It wasn’t much longer before the jet came to land at their destination. Once the cockpit visor lifted, Kaiba was the first to jump out,- quite literally,- and assisted his visually impaired boyfriend out of his seat too. When they were both firmly standing on the ground, he removed the blindfold to the sound of a rather theatrical, “Ta-da!”

Atem’s eyes took a moment to readjust to the bright sunlight now filling his vision as he looked out across rows and rows of grapevines. “Where are we?”

“In a vineyard.”

“I can see that!” He didn’t know whether to laugh or roll his eyes at the CEO’s deadpan response so did both. “I meant ‘WHERE are we’, as in what country?”

“France.” Kaiba declared as he then went to retrieve their bags from the jet’s storage compartment. “The Graves region of Bordeaux to be precise.”

“Bordeaux.” Atem quietly mouthed in awe at having been brought to the birthplace of some of the finest wines he’d ever consumed. Sometimes it amazed him at just how much thought his boyfriend gave things by catering them to his personal interests and tastes. “Wow, this was unexpected. Please tell me we're here to sample the wine.”

“Heh heh, not quite. Though you’ll certainly be able to do so during our stay."

“Well then, why ARE we here?”

“To make the ownership handover of my vineyard to you more impressive.” Kaiba pulled out a file full of documents and handed them to his perplexed looking boyfriend. He leant down and delivered an accompanying kiss. “Happy Birthday.”

Atem was too stunned to react as he tried to process what was happening. Finally he found his voice. “Wait a minute… how long have you owned a vineyard?”

“A good several years or so. It was one of my earliest investments that allowed me to keep Pegasus sweet with a continuous supply of wine. Costs like that can build up pretty quickly. I’ve saved myself a considerable amount of money in doing it this way.”

“And now this place is mine?”

“That was kind of the idea.” Kaiba suddenly began to feel nervous. Was his gift not liked? Had he somehow messed up? Knowing how much the other loved to drink wine, he’d been so sure that it would have been well received…

“You can relax.” Atem assured as he sensed the growing uneasiness festering behind those blue eyes surveying him. “I love it. Thank you.” He clutched the file close to his chest and stood on tiptoes to return the kiss from just a moment ago.

“You’re not just saying that?” He held the other close once the kiss was over.

“Of course not. Granted I am a little unsure of what it is you’re expecting me to DO with this place…?”

“That choice is completely up to you.” The CEO’s long fingers brushed blond bangs aside as he spoke tenderly to the one he loved. "You want to use this vineyard as your own personal lifelong wine supply, go right ahead. However, this place turns over a fairly decent profit,- the Claret produced here is especially popular with the British and Americans,- so it should set you up nicely if you wish to expand into a bigger empire. Or if you’d rather sell up-…"

“Monsieur Kaiba.” One of the vineyard’s workers approached the two men, completely unfazed by the affectionate display right in front of him. “The pressing process is about to begin if you’d like to witness it for yourself.”

“Can we join in?” Atem’s eyes seemed to light up at the announcement which had been made. He had such fond memories of him and Mana dancing together inside the huge pressing baskets. Oh how he’d love to relive such a simple pleasure.

“Oui.”

“Then we’ll be right there.”

The worker nodded in response to the shorter man’s reply and headed back to the processing shed.

“You certainly perked up.” Kaiba chuckled as he let go of his boyfriend from his hold and the two of them followed on behind.

“Wine pressing is fun.” Atem threaded his fingers with the other’s hand as they walked. “I’ve done it many times as a child. Haven’t you?”

“No.” The scoff came before the CEO could stop himself. “Besides, what’s so great about turning a wheel to push a plate down on some grapes?”

“A plate? You mean you don’t crush the grapes with your bare feet?”

“Heh, sometimes I forget just how old you are… No, no-one makes wine like that anymore. That method died out centuries ago.”

“Oh.” Atem was saddened by what he heard. He wouldn’t get to have fun after all. No wonder people in this day and age were so gloomy all of the time if even the pleasurable tasks had machines to do it for them. He then glanced down at the document file held in his other hand. “Wait a minute! I own this place now, correct?”

“Yeah…?”

“So I could just instruct to have the plate removed and do things my own way?”

“I guess so… if that’s really what you want?”

“Yes, it is! Very much so!” He grinned upwards. “You’ll join me, won’t you?”

“Pfft, you won’t catch me treading on grapes with my bare feet.”

“Oh come on, live a little. It’s not like I’m asking you to strip down and do it naked… Not unless you want to of course?”

“There is no way you’ll get me to crush grapes with you, and definitely NOT without my clothes on.”

“But it’s my birthday!”

“No, that was last week.”

Atem resorted to pouting. Hey, it always seemed to get Mokuba whatever he wanted so why not him?

“N O, spells no.”

Damn, it didn’t work. “Okay then fine! I can’t make you do something you don’t want to do…” An idea then hit him. “But you DO realise the double standards you hold?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Well on the way here, did you or did you not, do a triple loop whilst we were in your jet?”

“Yeah, so? It was fun.”

“But did I have any say in it? No. I had to sit there and-…”

“Okay, okay; you’ve made your point! I’ll press wine with you just this once. But if I get grape juice in places it should never go-…”

“Then I’ll lick you clean.”

“…!” Kaiba froze just several steps short of the pressing shed door. He looked at Atem whilst displaying a curiously cocked brow. “You better be able to live up to that claim.”

“You know damn well I can.” A sly smirk was given in return. Sometimes his boyfriend was far too easy to lure into his playful traps. And whilst their time together for his special day may have been delayed until now, Atem had a feeling that this birthday was going to be his best ever.

@heartof-thepharaoh

[skandarismyturkishdelight]

I Despise You - Edmund x Reader (Pt.3)

Warnings: none

Characters: Edmund, Lucy, Peter and Susan Pevensie and (Y/N)

Setting: The Golden Age, Narnia

Blurb (???i think???): (requested by @alwaysinnarnia) The reader is a Swordswoman/Knight of Doorn and visits Narnia, soon getting off on the wrong hand with King Edmund. She stays in Narnia and they train together, and they become friends and maybe something more…

*

There was only one thought itching at the back of (Y/N)‘s brain.

“Come on, you’re too slow.” The king laughed as she was once again knocked to the floor.

Killing King Edmund.

She huffed a piece of hair away from her face and leaped back up, her knees were bent and she held her fists in front of her chest. The young king, in response, positioned himself and began to throw punches towards (Y/N)’s upper torso.

Peter’s order for King Edmund and (Y/N) to spend some time together to train was an absolute waste of time. She could have more affective progress training by herself, let alone a king she despised.

(Y/N) had been planning to rest until at least until noon to catch up on sleep she had missed on her travels here. Yet, there was a thunderous knock on her door at dawn and she had opened the door to a wide awake and annoyed looking Edmund Pevensie.

“What are you doing?” The King had asked as if (Y/N) was doing something utterly disgusting.

“Sleep,” she croaked underneath the pile of blankets she drew over her head.

He had scoffed with one eyebrow raised and shoved a set of tunics, trousers and two pairs of training boots into her arms.

“Be outside in five minutes,” he demanded to (Y/N) who was half disoriented. “We’re going for a run.”

“For a what!” She whisper-screamed furiously. “At dawn?!”

King Edmund rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You’re helpless.”

(Y/N) obviously went with him to prove him wrong, only to see that he was a much faster runner than her.

There were certain things about this king that made her want to strangle him. She couldn’t think of any at that moment though, because he had just punched her in the gut.

(Y/N) tried to ignore the pain and keep fighting, but she needed a break. She held her side and began to limp towards the bench area of where they were training. With her mouth set in a straight line and her teeth gritted together, she took a seat and let out an exhausted sigh.

King Edmund approached the bench and wiped his face with the ice cold water he had collected from a river nearby.

(Y/N)’s stinging stomach made it clear that he had bruised her. But she didn’t say anything about stopping; then he would think she was a quitter.

“We could stop if you want.” The King said. “I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.“

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She winced as she pressed her finger around her bruise. “For me to give up.”

He lowered his head and chuckled, the rays of the bright sun caught in his hair and lightened his dark eyes. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as he squatted down in front of her.

“No,” he replied, his lips slightly upturned. “I thought you’d want to check if you had any broken nails.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and her heart began to pound with fury. She shoved him onto his back and stood to keep a foot on his chest.

“Patronize me again and I swear I’ll kill you.” She said with a tone of terror in her voice.

“I was kidding.” He grunted. “Get your foot off.”

“No, no I don’t think I will.”

The king looked up at her, dead in the eyes, and said, “Are you seriously-”

“Edmund!” Someone called out, and Lucy approached them with a skip in her step. “Breakfast is ready! What are you two doing?”

“Sparring. With our fists.” (Y/N) smiled as she clapped her hands together. “Isn’t that right, King Edmund?”

He grinned towards his younger sister who also added, “Oh and (Y/N); a letter arrived from Doorn.”

“Thank you, Lucy.” The swordswoman responded with a wide smile on her face.

“Don’t be late!” Lucy called back as she ran towards the castle.

(Y/N) drew her gaze back to her opponent who now had his hands underneath his head. She took her foot off of his chest and unwrapped the bandages from her knuckles.

“You haven’t learnt to fist-fight in Doorn.” King Edmund pointed out.

“No, we haven’t. It’s pointless.”

“What if you didn’t have a weapon in combat?” He asked.

“I would use anything else but my fists.”

“But let’s say you don’t have anything else.”

(Y/N) pulled her boots on and stood in front of him. “I don’t need weapons. Give me one piece of rope and I could kill someone in more than five ways.”

“You really are up yourself, aren’t you?“

“You really want me to kill you, don’t you?”

He flashed a smile as he stepped forward, making the space between them slightly shorter. She kept her eyes trained on his dark, yet playful looking ones. She felt something brush her waist and soon realized it was hand. He felt the new bruise located there and (Y/N) held back a wince.

“Sorry about that…” he said quietly.

(Y/N) ignored her slightly rapid heart beat and drew away from him after stating firmly, “Think about where you hit next time.”

He laughed softly. “I will.”

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him to walk back up towards the castle.

She still felt his fingers on her waist.

*

(Y/N) took her time bathing and grooming herself. Her room began to smell like the fig and vanilla scented soaps, filling the air around her and making her sink deeper into the tub.

She hasn’t gotten around to reading the letter from Doorn yet, and her mind began to wonder as to what her parents could possibly want. (Y/N) had often taken care of businesses that her parents couldn’t solve. She was intelligent and an excellent problem solver.

Although, she couldn’t figure out why the young king was acting like that during their training session. When he touched her waist, it felt strange; and it wasn’t because of this bruise he created there.

(Y/N) was confused by that sudden action and why he did it. She had thought it was to catch her off guard, which worked.

She drew a hand through her tangled, damp hair and began to dry herself off and dress for breakfast. She settled on a long sleeved, white tunic and a crimson floor length skirt. The stitching of multiple flowers with a golden looking thread made it seem more vibrant.

(Y/N) shut the door of her chamber and pulled on her shoes.

“Lady- I mean (Y/N),” she King Peter’s voice to her right. A smile appeared on her face as she greeted him.

“You and Edmund seem to butt heads quite a lot.” He laughed as he guided her to the dining area. “I hope this training has done any good. You know, making you sort out problems between you.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “It’s difficult to talk to someone so ignorant.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s ignorant; just very stubborn.”

“Well, if you say that then you must be correct. I should make him a friendship bracelet to express how sorry I am.” she stated sarcastically, earning a laugh from Peter.

They arrived at the doors of the dining room and entered. (Y/N) was greeted by Lucy and Susan who both complemented her on what she was wearing.

“You know, if you really like the skirts I could get more for you,” Susan said kindly. “They look beautiful on you.”

(Y/N) smiled. “Thank you very much, Susan. I’d love that.”

“Sorry I’m late,” someone stated from behind her. She rolled her eyes as she recognised it as King Edmund who walked to the empty seat across her.

Just as he took a seat, two fauns appeared into the room and began to distribute the almost unreal looking dishes.

“You make it look like you’ve never seen a pancake before, (Y/N).” Peter chuckled.

“I haven’t,” She stated truthfully.

The sound of sputtering surprised her and she turned to King Edmund who was choking on water, his younger sister patting him on his back.

(Y/N) sent a death glare his way and he responded with another cough mixed with laughter.

“Come on, Ed.” Susan sighed, exasperated. “You should at least understand that she’s new to a lot of these things.”

“Oh, yeah.” Edmund held back a laugh. “I know all about that.”

(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, do you now?”

“Mhm,” he hummed confidently. “You really are something special.”

Silence fell across the room as she gripped her fork tighter, all the while having a stare down with the Just King.

He took another sip from his silver goblet as the fauns disappeared from the toon. (Y/N) leaned forward and placed her elbows onto the table, a sarcastic smile on her face.

“Oh, then do tell, your Highness. Maybe you should also address how abnormally thick-headed you are.”

“Oh look!” Lucy exclaimed worriedly. “Eggs.”

The king retorted, “But you definitely outweigh that supposed thick-headedness of mine. It wouldn’t be fair to not address the queen of big heads.”

“Um, guys we should start-” began Peter, who has then interrupted by (Y/N).

“You’re inconsiderate and annoying, and honestly the only way that it could be worse is that you don’t know how to treat other people.”

“And earlier today?” He said, his eyes dark and the corners of his mouth drawn in a straight line.

(Y/N) stopped suddenly. She put aside her rage for a couple of seconds and remembered how he touched her. “What?”

He scoffed. “Nothing. Because apparently I don’t know how to treat other people.”

“Alright you two, stop it.” Susan demanded. “Whatever it is that is going on, you should discuss this later.”

“I’d rather not.” Edmund Pevensie said. “Definitely not.”

*

(Y/N) felt the day go by extremely quickly; her training and sitting in the library made her lose track of time. She was now sitting by the fireplace in her room with a cup of tea by her side, reading about the history of Narnia.

Of course, she knew her own history. But she didn’t necessarily know the history of Cair Paravel, and how the Pevensie siblings came around to becoming kings and queens of this country.

Sunset seemed like hours ago, and as soon as dinner was over she approached her chambers and hadn’t come out ever since. She definitely didn’t want to face ‘him’.

(Y/N) hadn’t seen King Edmund all day after breakfast what happened at breakfast, and dinner seemed much more quiet and peaceful. She did feel quite guilty about saying how he didn’t know how to treat others. But she also knew it was somewhat true.

(Y/N) closed the book and turned to her tea which, she noticed, had gone cold. She sighed and removed herself from her comfortable armchair with the teacup in her hand.

As she exited the room, she heard the sound of crickets and the coldness of the castle hit her hard. She shivered in her nightgown and hurried faster towards the closest kitchens of Cair Paravel, the candlelights along the wall guiding her.

Upon arriving, she noticed how large the kitchen was. With multiple benches made of marble and shelves filled with hundreds of cutlery and plates. As soon as she found a small pot, (Y/N) immediately began to prepare some herbal tea.

She began to wonder around the kitchen in search for biscuits and some sugar before she heard the door open. In a panic, she grabbed a small knife hidden under the sleeve of her nightgown and leaped towards the door silently. The figure who had entered had her knife pressed underneath throat. The swordswoman then discovered who it was…

“What are you doing here?” King Edmund whispered.

“What are you doing scaring me like that?”

“I asked you first.”

She let out a quiet sigh a removed the knife from his neck. “I was just making tea.”

“No, I mean what are you doing up so late?”

“What’s it your business?”

He moved towards a cupboard on the left, taking out something. He placed an intricately detailed teacup besides (Y/N)’s before jumping on the counter himself.

“You wouldn’t mind pouring me some, would you?” He inquired quietly.

(Y/N) still couldn’t see his face in the dim candlelight.

“Are there any more candles around here?” She asked.

“Yeah, in the cupboard beneath you.”

She found a small candelabra sitting in the cupboard with stubs of candles. It was just decent enough to last for a couple of hours. Not that they were doing to sit here for hours.

“You put sugar in your tea?” King Edmund asked.

(Y/N) nodded in response as she lit the candelabra. She placed it on a large counter in the centre of the room and noticed that the king was now off the bench and looking in a cupboard.

He was wearing a white shirt and a pair of breeches, and his hair was sticking up in all directions. (Y/N) noticed sweat marks on the back of his neck which plastered his hair down.

“Did you go for a run?” She said.

He turned around and looked at her calmly. He looked different; like he was off guard and tired. What happened to him? He doesn’t look like this usually.

“No,” he replied.

(Y/N) began to hear the whistling of the pot and rushed towards it, careful not to burn herself. She removed the kettle from the fire and took it out as the king asked her how much sugar she liked.

She didn’t imagine herself in this situation; pouring tea for someone she deeply disliked.

“I was reading.” (Y/N) answered his question from earlier in the dead silence as she stirred her tea.

King Edmund sipped his tea and began to break his biscuit into little pieces. “What were you reading?”

She shrugged. “Just some history.”

“Oh.”

(Y/N) peered towards him. “And you, King Edmund.”

He looked at her with his dark eyes that somehow looked golden in the candle light. “I was sleeping.”

“You’re sweating and it’s freezing in here. You probably had some dream about training. I reckon you were doing terribly.

He chuckled softly as (Y/N) added, "I was definitely beating you, I could tell.”

She smiled softly and felt her stomach drop a bit. This wasn’t a conversation she imagined having. Was he messing around with her to get her off guard?

“No,” he said in response, snapping her out of her thoughts. “It was just some nightmare.”

“Oh,” she said.

“Listen, (Y/N).” He began, scratching the back of his neck. “I apologize for today; I’m not usually like that I was just worked up.”

“Is that an excuse for every insult you’ve thrown at me for the past three days?” She said angrily.

“No,” he stated. “But I apologize. I shouldn’t have said stuff like that.”

His tone of genuineness surprised her and she brought up what happened earlier. “And when you touched me?”

“What?”

(Y/N) mentally screamed at her rapidly beating heart to calm down. “When you touched the bruise you gave me, why did you do it?”

He peered at her with kind eyes and placed his hands around his teacup, his long fingers intertwining. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just wanted to see if you were alright.”

(Y/N) stayed silent, debating whether she should apologize to him or leave it be. But she spoke up: “I’m sorry for what I said today at dinner; I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

“You were only saying what was on your mind.” He stated moving just an inch towards her. “It’s alright.”

(Y/N) looked away towards the candlelight and sipped her warm tea.

“Thank you, King Edmund.” She muttered almost under her breath.

She felt his eyes on her but she didn’t turn to him, instead she looked down and smiled. “You still have a big head though.”

“Like I don’t hear that everyday,” he laughed. He then placed his teacup on the counter and stated, “Call me Edmund.”

[hellsbellssinclub]

Prompt that I'm not really sure fits into your requested parameter of Batman but I tried I'm sorry: Nightwing is the most protective and scary bamf you will ever see if you mess with one of the other Robin's. So I kinda want to see Batman all "What happened to my sunshine child?!"

Damian came back to consciousness slowly, his head ringing and the back of his skull where the stupid henchman had hit him was throbbing painfully.

Damn it all to hell. He was better than this. That little gang should not have gotten the better of him. He had gotten sloppy and now he was caught and now he would look weak to his family.

Oh, Grayson would not care. He would be more worried that Damian was hurt than he would be that he had been caught. But the others…

Father would be disappointed. While it was not outright said outside of Todd’s rants, Bruce Wayne had high expectations for all of his children and alies and he expected them to be upheld all the time. Damian knew, he knew that he was not in the league anymore and that he would not be punished for his failure but if he was to be honest with himself, Damian would have preferred the punishment to the silence and benching that was no doubt to come.

Todd was going to laugh at him. Call him weak and childish. The undead man would laugh and laugh and say that if he (Damian) was not carefully, than Todd would lose his place as the only real dead Robin.

Drake would not care. He would say nothing at all. He would look at Damian with indifferent eyes and walk away. How it burns him that Drake would do so. There was no love between them. And Damian doubted that there would ever be any at all. Drake was a threat and he set off everything in Damian with how much of a threat he was. Not even Ra’s came close to making Damian feel on edge.

At least the girls were better.

Brown would check him over for injures and fuss for a while. Gordon would update his comms with new trackers and would merely ask that he would be more careful. Cain would pat his shoulder and ask if he wanted to spar. She would understand.

But the rest of them…

Damian hated feeling weak or being seen as weak. Weakness got people killed. And Damian did not want to die. Nor did he want anyone of his family to die because of his stupid mistakes. They were his. They could not die.

The sounds of almost silent footsteps reached his ears as he began to force his eyes open. The ground was dirty and cold and a deep grey, he noticed. And the footsteps had stopped right before him. He turned his head slightly to the side and saw that the feet the belonged to was Grayson in his Nightwing glory.

Blinking slowly, Damian looked up at the taller man and was surprised to see that there was blood splattered across Nightwing’s uniform and that his fists were dripping in it. Was Grayson hurt? Was he hurt saving Damian? 

No, that was not acceptable. Grayson is not allowed to be hurt. Not like this. 

Damian opened his mouth to demand to know if Grayson was hurt or not, but instead of words all that came out was a painful cough that sent stars to his eyes from the pain.

“Shhh, easy Robin.” Nightwing’s gentle voice reached his ears as he screwed his eyes close. “You are safe now, tiny bird.”

Damian felt the binds that were holding his wrists behind his back fall and blood rushed almost painfully back down his hands as he was lifted into the warm, strong arms of the older man.

“I got you now. No one will ever hurt you again.” Damian opened his eyes in slow blinks as they began to walk out of wherever they were. As Nightwing carried him out, Damian could see countless henchmen on the ground, bleeding and broken from various wounds. All of them were still breathing but the sheer number of men laying there gave Damian pause.

Did Grayson do this all by himself? This looked more like Todd’s work than Grayson’s. 

But Todd was nowhere to be seen. If the undead man had helped, than he would have stayed to gloat. 

Damian looked up at the masked face of the older man whom he called brother and wondered, just what the hell was Grayson capable of. Of all of the Robin’s and ‘Bat Family’ as they were all known, Ra’s never saw Grayson as a threat. Grandfather’s files all stated that the man who held him now was soft and easily exploitable. 

Ra’s was wrong. Grayson was not weak.

No, Grayson was a lot more dangerous than Damian thought. He would have to look into this. But that would have to be later. Right now, he needed to rest. 

His eyes slid close once more as Nightwing carried him out into the cool night, the stars briefly twinkling overhead in his sights before he allowed himself to sleep.

-

“You know, you did not have to go in on your own.” Bruce said as Dick loaded Damian into the Batmobile. 

Dick sighed and gently brushed a strand of hair out of Damian’s eyes. “I know. And you know you could have easily stopped me.”

Bruce gave a low snort. “I learnt long ago not to get between you and someone you care about who is in danger.” Dick watched as the older man looked at the warehouse. “Next time though, take one of your siblings as back up. It is bad enough I am going to have to bench Robin for running off and getting himself hurt. I don’t want you to be laid up because you were injured again.”

Dick rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, ignoring the pain in his chest and shoulders as he did so. “You give me this lecture every time.”

“And yet you refuse to listen.” Bruce gave a small glare. “I preferred it when you were a small little ball of sunshine that actually listened to me.”

Dick gave a sharp grin at that. “Well I couldn’t stay nine forever B.”

Bruce shook his head. “Take Robin home. I will deal with the rest of this.”

Dick gently hit Bruce’s dark shoulder and did as he was told without another word. He was looking forward to getting back to the manor and making sure that his tiny bird was alright.

And to having a nice, hot bath.