#phoenix's bouquet

[itsphoenix0724]

Can I request Azriel and Gardenia please? I’m a sucker for hidden families <3

Gardenia (Azriel x Reader)

Warnings: mentions of blood, angsty? kind of maybe, a happy ending though

Word Count: 1.3k

❀° Event Masterlist ❀°

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for requesting and participating in my writing event! I hope you enjoy what I've done with it! This is set when Feyre first comes to the Night Court! Please enjoy and feel free to reach out again! Slots for the series are still open so please request. I'm working through my inbox after being sick so if you did request I promise I see it! As always, constructive criticism is welcome! <3

Following the screaming bouncing off the stone walls in the House of Wind, Feyre finds herself in Azriel’s room. The sight alone is enough to make her want to vomit, let alone the metallic scent of blood staining the air. Madja is knelt beside Azriel on the bed, armed with a needle and thread, trying to stitch the wound he somehow sustained. 

The gash is massive and gaping. The cut starts in his lower stomach and stretches to his sternum. The combination of the stinging of Madja’s healing work and the wound makes even the stoic Spymaster scream like a babe. 

Feyre doesn’t know much about the missions Azriel gets sent on, and after this, she's not sure she wants to. 

“RHYS!” Azriel barely can grit out the words behind his clenched jaw. Rhysand is by his side in an instant, kneeling on the other side of the bed. Azriel turns his sweat-soaked head and grasps a hand with Rhys. 

“What do you need?” Rhys’s voice is grave, eyes darting between hazel eyes and the blood seeping out onto the sheets. 

“Go get her.” This is the most serious Feyre has ever seen Azriel. Rhys’s eyes dart to Feyre and then back to Az and nods once before disappearing into thin air. She doesn’t have any time to consider who “her” might be before Madja snaps at her to get clean water and bandages. 

It takes another hour but she and Madja finally get Azriel stable and asleep. 

Feyre feels like she could sleep for a lifetime as she stumbles out of the room. When she steps into the House’s sitting room she is met with the absolute last sight she was expecting.

Rhys is sitting on one of the armchairs, a small boy with Illyrian wings perched on his lap, and a heavily pregnant female is pacing in front of the roaring fire.

Three pairs of eyes snap to look at her for answers. 

“He’s stable, but he’s asleep.” she sees the female visibly sag with relief as tears well up in her eyes. She smiles at Feyre briefly, before looking at Rhysand who nods in return. She drops a kiss on the boy's head before she’s running down the hall.

Feyre looks to Rhys for answers as he bounces the boy on his knee. 

“Feyre darling, this is Atlas, Az’s son. That was his mate,” he dips his head down the hall as her eyes widen in shock. 

“Hello, Miss Feyre.”  The small boy smiles at her despite the dark atmosphere in the room. Looking at him she can’t mistake the babe for anyone else's, the mop of black hair and the wings make up the perfect picture. The only mismatching piece is the eyes, which she assumes belong to you. 

“Hello,” she gives the boy her sweetest smile and he seems to beam further at her. The boy averts his attention back to Rhys, and she realizes he can’t be any older than five.

“Uncle Rhys, can I go play?” He nods at Atlas who runs over to rifle through a bag and settles on a small mat set up in the corner. 

“I didn’t know Az had a family,” Feyre says settling in the armchair across from Rhys, blue eyes darting to the child playing quietly. 

“Azriel is very private,” he reaches over to pour a glass of whiskey, passing it to her and then pours another one for himself. He takes a long drink from the glass before continuing. “Because of the nature of his work, he keeps his family hidden away from almost everyone but the Inner Circle.” Violet eyes watch Atlas before he looks back at Feyre, expression surprisingly grim. “I can’t say I blame him.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You haven’t let go of Azriel’s hand since you sat in the chair perched beside his bed. It made you sick to your stomach seeing your mate lying there. So still. So pale. Completely at odds with the male you’ve come to know and love. You decided to keep your son out of the room. 

He doesn’t need to see his father like this. 

You had felt the panic drift down the bond, along with a brief electric flash of pain, and then nothing. Az had closed his end of the bond to shield you from his struggle, but you had been pouring concern down the other side. You had been trying to remain calm so Atlas wouldn’t sense your panic when Rhys appeared and brought you here. 

All you could do was watch the rising and falling of his chest to reassure yourself he was alive. He was breathing. He would come back to you like he always promised. You pressed kisses to each one of his knuckles and sent waves of love to your mate. You didn’t know how long it had been, hours most likely when hazel eyes creaked open to meet yours. It feels like you’ve released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You scramble to pour a glass of water and hand it to Az. He chugs it all in one go, and you refill it to pass it back to him. 

“Hello, love.” he manages a small smile, and you let out a wet laugh as you try to stop the tears flowing out of your eyes. He reaches a scarred hand out to wipe your cheek, and you turn your head to press a kiss to his palm. “I’m sorry,” he mutters out around a dry throat. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” You shake your head and squeeze all your love into Azriel’s wrist. You refuse to let his hand leave your cheek, needing the contact. You knew what being mated to the Spymaster would entail, and you swore yourself to him at the alter anyway. 

“I worried you. You should have Madja look over you. It can’t be good when you’re this far along.” You shake your head at him incredulously. Leave it to Azriel to be worried about you when he almost bled out. “Where’s Atlas?” he looks around the room, noting his son’s absence. 

“He’s safe. He’s in the other room with Rhys and Feyre.” You watch something in Azriel calm now that he knows his son is safe, and it warms something deep in your chest. You reach out to Rhy’s mind sending him a message to bring Atlas to his father. A moment later you hear footsteps coming down the hall. Rhys, Feyre, and your son appear in the doorway. Atlas runs into the room at the sight of his father. 

“Daddy!” You catch your son around the waist before he jumps right onto Azriel’s stomach. It’s not his fault, he leaps onto Az like this almost every morning. 

“Atlas,” You press a kiss into the inky crown of hair on your son's head as he squirms to get on the bed with his dad. “We have to be careful with Daddy right now because he’s hurt remember?” His big eyes look at you before returning to Az, now seeming to see the thick layer of bandages that cover his stomach. 

“Oh,” your son mutters, looking as if he’s been chastised. “I’m sorry, Dad.” Azriel gently pulls Atlas to his chest, planting kisses all over his face and head. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Azriel promises, his eyes welling up a little as he looks at his son. He can’t believe he almost lost this, his perfect family, and almost didn’t even get to meet his second child. Rhys clears his throat from the doorway, and Azriel meets his and Feyre’s eyes. He looks at you again and you dip your chin in conformation. 

He takes a deep breath, but Feyre’s basically already family anyway, even if she doesn’t know it yet. 

“Feyre, this is my mate.”

[shitpostingkats]

Somewhere, Kristoph Gavin's search history reads something like:

> People willing to deliver spider lilies to a hospital > Unscrupulous florists > How to get flowers delivered from prison

[cryptidwithacopiccollection]

He got hit by another car

[missjanenoelle]

Reading 📖 books 🙊

💐

[plumdale]

🤍 (2/3)

[quantomeno]

(Spoilers for the last three Ace Attorney games)

This joke has been sitting in my mind for ages and I finally decided to draw it:

For those who can't read my handwriting:

Apollo: I'm glad you're not guilty Nick! I've got news for you! I just discovered that Lamiroir is my mother, and Trucy is my half-sister and Sahdmadhi is my foster brother, and Gumshoe is my dog, and Mr Hat is my old Hoover vacuum cleaner, and ―

Phoenix: Gee, is this "Ace Attorney... or "Professor Layton and the Azran Legacy"?

It is a reference probably no one will get to a panel from an old Mad magazine Star Wars parody:

I wanted to make a Professor Layton version based on Azran Legacy, but the I felt the Ace Attorney version would be funnier. In honour of the original idea, I decided to reference AL in place of the TV show in the original.

Bonus scene:

Athena: Wasn't it lucky that Phoenix and Edgeworth were only second cousins... and could get married?!

Apollo: Yeah, great! But what a strange wedding this is! I've never ushered at a wedding where the guests were divided into THREE groups... The BRIDE's side of the family... the GROOM's side of the family... and the DEAD side of the family!!

I somehow put too much effort into this and not enough.

The referenced panel:

[pandoras-proxy]

When a short king tells you you're cute. 😳

[moondancediner]

Love of my Life

summary: the dagger squad meets hangman's best-kept secret

jake seresin x reader

word count: 1490

warnings: no editing, fluff

a/n: this popped into my head the other night... enjoy! also this gif makes me CHOKE ohmylord

song rec: love of my life - harry styles

masterlist

It wasn’t on purpose. Nights when you and Jake ended up at the same bar were never planned, mostly because your friends from work always wanted to go somewhere downtown, and Jake’s friends from work always wanted to go to the Hard Deck so there was never a chance for the two groups to intersect. 

Tonight, however, your friends had enough of hearing about all your nights at the Hard Deck with your fighter pilot husband who drops by work every once and a while with lunch or a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. They decided to venture out to the Hard Deck tonight for your monthly get-together and you weren’t going to miss an opportunity to ogle at your husband from across the bar while he played darts and pool with his Dagger Squad friends who just so happened to be in town visiting. 

And that’s exactly where you found yourself on this lovely Friday night. Your friend walked over to your standing table with another drink for you and you thanked her with a smile. She immediately started diving into some workplace gossip, keeping her voice quiet since so many of your colleagues had managed to make it out tonight. You half-listened to her go on how bad the break room refrigerator smelled the other day but your real focus was on Jake who was playing pool with Phoenix, Fanboy, and Bob. He had Bob on his team and you were surprised to see him actually give the man a chance to play without correcting or coaching him. 

You knew all about the Dagger Squad, when Jake was first sent out here you followed him, even knowing this wouldn’t be a permanent duty station, and he talked about everyone he was competing against non stop. From the moment he came home after training you were getting a full rundown of the days happening (you were sworn to secrecy of the top secret events, of course). You learned quickly who was who, even if you never got the opportunity to meet them. 

After the mission, you were pulling out boxes and getting ready to move what little belongings you brought over to the island when Jake came home and surprised you to your core. He accepted a teaching position here on the North Island and you were staying for the foreseeable future. 

You were shocked but over the moon. Jake would be in one spot for at least a couple years and wouldn’t be off on deployments and missions so often. You could start a family and he could actually be there for all of it. 

“Hello? Anybody home?” A hand waving in front of your face brought you out of memories and a trance you hadn’t realized you were in. You laughed and smiled at your friend, but not before catching the eye of Phoenix, who totally caught you staring at Jake. 

“Sorry, sorry, got a little lost there.” You waved her hand out of your face and took another sip from your drink. 

“I’ll say,” she laughed, “I mean, I get it.” Her eyebrows wagged and you laughed heartily, throwing your head back. She was always complimenting your choice of husband and you had to agree with her, he was fine as hell. 

“Fuck, I think one of his friends just caught me staring,” you said once the laughter died down. 

“Remind me again why he doesn’t tell them about you?” 

“It started off as a joke,” you start, “he wanted to see how long it would take one of them to notice, and now it’s just an ongoing bet we have.” 

“A bet I am about to win, by the way.” Jake suddenly appears behind you and you’re happy to see him until his words sink in.

“You’re not allowed to interfere!” You point at him and he just laughs. 

“No interference, I promise.” He leans on the table you two are standing at and you almost forget about the bet for a second because his green eyes still captivate you even after all this time. 

“Well, what are you doing over here then?”

“See now, that’s where it gets interesting because someone caught you looking at me,” he tips his beer over in the direction of his friends, who scatter like chickens when you turn your head to look at them, “and they bet me $20 that I couldn’t walk over here and get your phone number.” 

“Hmmm, seems like fair play to me.” Your friend interjects, looking contemplatively between you and your cheating husband. 

A noise comes out of your mouth, somewhere between disbelief and betrayal. You only had one month left before the bet was yours and you could claim your prize and now this happens, the perfect opportunity falls right into Jake’s lap. 

“Did none of them notice the giant ring on my finger?” You hold up your wedding rings, which glint even in the dim bar lighting and Jake takes your fingers in his hand, bending them towards himself before placing a kiss on your knuckles. You swoon. It’s impossible not to. “Don’t try to distract me, you’re in trouble.” 

“Come on darlin’,” His hand fell away from yours but moved slyly around your hip, where it curled around the belt loops of your shorts, and just then, while his face was inching towards yours, your wedding song came on. 

“When did this song get added to the jukebox?” 

“I may have put in a special request.” His smile did you in. You met him halfway and when your lips met that familiar kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight. Jake pulled away just to smile at you some more before pressing a few quick kisses to your lips. When he backed away enough, you took the chance to look over his shoulder and see what his friends thought. 

The entire group was standing around, completely gobsmacked at what just occurred and you could only imagine what was running through their minds. 

“After you, Mrs. Seresin,” Jake whispered in your ear. You gave him the best glare you could but he just laughed and grabbed your hand to walk you over to the group of people you already felt like you knew. 

Jake chuckled as you got within ear shot. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet someone,” he pulled you under his arm and you automatically slid your own across his back, “this is my wife.” He said it with genuine pride, a stark contrast to his usual cocky tone everyone was used to. 

“Wife?” Rooster repeated, dumbfounded.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Bradshaw.”

You ignored Jake and introduced yourself to everyone with a quick wave. “It’s nice to finally meet you all.” 

There was a beat of silence while you watched everyone process what was happening, but Phoenix broke it with a laugh. “You’ve been holding out on us, Bagman!” 

“Yeah, what the hell, man!” Rooster seemed downright offended that Jake would keep such a secret from them and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“It’s not all Jake’s fault,” You come to his defense, “we had a bet going, which I just lost.” 

“What bet did you two have?” Bob asked, coming forward to introduce himself to you properly. 

You shook his outstretched hand, smiling. “We wanted to see how long it would take for someone to figure out he was married.”

“You… you don’t wear a wedding ring?” Rooster seemed to be having the hardest time with this revelation and it was cracking you up. 

Jake pulled his dog tags out from under his shirt, proudly turning them around to display his gold wedding band that perfectly matched the one around your finger. They both belonged to his grandparents and he was so proud to give you his grandmother's band on your wedding day. 

Phoenix studied the two of you for a moment, watched the way you started to sway to a song and Jake immediately joined in, watched how his attention always drifted back to you, and how his entire cocky dimenor melted away as soon as you were near. 

“So, what’s the story? How did you manage to bag Hangman?” Natasha asked, leaning her hands on the pool cue in front of her. 

Jake pretended to be offended. “I’m not that wild.” 

You roll your eyes affectionately before diving into the story of how you and Jake met. It was nothing spectacular or anything you would want to make a movie about, but it was a whirlwind romance that ended in the two of you married in the Seresin family’s backyard three summers ago. 

When you finished your story, all smiles for your husband, Rooster raised his beer in a toast. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Seresin.” 

Jake couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to let the team in on his best-kept secret, even if he was gonna pay for her losing the bet later on tonight. 

---

thanks for reading ily

Requests are open 🫶🏻

[itsphoenix0724]

Hi!! Could you possibly do Jasmine with Rhys for the bouquet event?

Hope you are doing well💜💜

Jasmine (Rhysand x Reader)

Warnings: none, very short I'm sorry

Word Count: 698

❀° Event Masterlist ❀°

A/N: This has taken me so long to write and I'm sorry it's short, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I may come back to it and add more at a later date, but for now, I'm calling it done

“Something bothering you Darling?” Your mate's voice purrs from the doorway, you look up from your mixing bowl, the repetitive motion of the whisk calming your frayed nerves. You hum, looking back to your work as Rhys makes his way into the kitchen. He wraps his arms around your waist, nosing at your hairline as he watches you bake. He knows you probably won’t talk about what’s got you so anxious, at least not until you’ve finished your dessert and had a slice of whatever cake you're making. 

Chocolate raspberry Rhys thinks, judging by splatters on your apron and the color of the batter that raptly holds your attention. 

He reaches a finger toward the bowl, spooning a taste into his mouth, his eyes close as the sweetness hits his tongue. Rhysand misses the playful roll of your eyes as he enjoys your creation. You catch his wrist as he tries for the batter again, and he uses the opportunity to maneuver you against his chest. You try to swat at him but he deflects it, and you let out a yelp as he lands a small tap against your backside. Neither of you knows exactly who started it but you end up softly swaying in the kitchen, the candlelight bouncing off the wall as the rain pattering the windows becomes your orchestra. He kisses you, holding your jaw like it’s the most precious thing in the world. 

Rhysand tastes like the cake you’ve briefly forgotten, sugar-sweet and irresistible as you’re lifted onto the counter. He takes care to move your bowl out of the way, not wanting your hard work to tumble onto the ground. The stress that hovered over you like storm clouds start to fade, the sun breaking through your mind as your mate peppers kisses on your neck and jawline. Violet eyes stare up at you, a feline grin stretching across his full lips. A laugh bubbles out of you as his smile tickles your throat. “Feeling better Love?” He mumbles as he takes another taste out of the bowl. You hum in contemplation, running a hand through his night-dark hair. A streak of flour lingers behind as you huff a laugh quietly, letting that be your retribution for the batter he’s been stealing. 

“Much, thank you.” You press a kiss to his forehead, sea salt and citrus flood your senses as you rest your chin on the crown of his head. You stay like that for a long moment, letting the rare moment of quiet linger and fall over you like a blanket. Rhys rubs soothing circles on the tops of your thighs as you simply enjoy the warmth of your mate. After a while, he releases you, content with watching you bake from the other side of the counter. You resume your baking, pouring the batter into a greased pan, and finally sliding it into the oven. Rhysand slides you a glass of wine across the counter, and you reward him with a peck on the lips as you start the frosting. 

Rhys loves watching you bake, he could stare at you for hours as you slip into the deep rhythmic concentration of your work. He thinks everything about you is beautiful always, but this version of you might be his favorite. The flour and sugar dusted on your apron, your hair mussed as your brow wrinkles in thought. This version of you is only for him, and he holds it as close to his heart as he can, keeping it locked away from the darkness in the world. You slide back up to him as soon as you finish with the icing, bumping his hip with yours. You tug at the collar of his shirt, and he obliges your silent request as he lowers his mouth to yours again, kissing with a heavier hand than before. You lick your way into his mouth as he grabs for your waist, hauling you onto your tiptoes against his chest. You taste like sugar, sweet and melting against him. If Rhys had the option he would do only this, be only this, for the rest of his life.

Your mate and nothing more. 

[dearsnow]

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

- phoenix and her girlfriend set you up with a wso they insist will be right up your alley. (robert “bob” floyd x fem!reader, fluff, reader is meant to be similar to bob, ie quiet, sweet, and nerdy, mentions of being drunk/having sex but nothing explicit)

word count: 2,003

a/n - this fic is parallel HEAVY, so don’t be surprised if you see the same phrase passed around. it’s truly a mindlink esque situation lol. and it’s 100% self-indulgent because the reader’s personality is so similar to mine (i am nothing if not a self caterer)

“Nat, I’m really not sure.” Bob tries to protest. “You know I’m no good with dating and stuff. Who’s to say she’ll even like me?” Natasha pats him on the back, firmly enough for him to know she means it.

“You guys are birds of a feather. Trust me, she’ll like you.”

“Jamie, I just don’t know.” You frown. She’s trying to set you up with her girlfriend’s friend, claiming that you’d be the perfect match, but you know you’re not the most amazing when it comes to meeting new people. You’re slightly awkward at best, socially anxious at worst. “He probably won’t like me. And if we’re really so similar, don’t you think it’ll be stiff and weird because neither of us can say the right, flirty thing?”

“You don’t need to be ‘flirty’ to have a good connection. Not every relationship is going to be like Natasha and I, all fire and flame. Sometimes it’s slow, and slow is good. It’s exactly what you need.” Jamie chides, putting a soothing arm around your shoulder. “Trust me. Birds of a feather, right?”

You shift uncomfortably in the booth you’re sitting in, Jamie’s hand rubbing the side of your arm comfortingly. It’s ten minutes before your supposed double date, and Natasha affirms that it’s about five minutes before he shows up. “Bob’s always early,” she stated, “so we can be even earlier to give you some prep time.”

You’re quiet. Shy, even, and you don’t have the best track record with social events. You’ve never really had a date that understood why you don’t want to get roaringly drunk and have sex in a bathroom and whatnot. The two girls, one in front of you and one by your side, have assured you that Bob will be different. He’s quiet too, but he stands up for himself. He’s strong and capable, with a humble attitude and the slight southern charm that you can bring home to your parents. If he’s really so great, though, what the hell is he doing going out with you?

Bob can see your booth through the door of the diner, and he steels his nerves quietly. He’s got this. He’ll make it a nice dinner, a nice experience, and he will not, under any circumstances, fuck it up. He owes you that much. He knows he’s probably not what you want in a guy. Natasha described you as hardworking, kind, and a good listener. He can’t help but think that you deserve much better than him.

He takes a breath and pushes open the door, the flowers in his other hand a little damp from his sweaty palms.

When he finally rounds the server stand, he can see you. And you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever had the pleasure of setting sights on.

He’s royally fucked, he thinks.

Oh my god, he’s so hot. You smile at him and curse a bit under your breath, careful to not let anyone hear. He’s everything you imagined and more, with sandy colored hair, bright blue eyes, and glasses that look like they’re just a little crooked. If you were bold, you’d reach across the table and fix them as he sat down. You’re not, though, so you just fidget with your hands under the hard wood.

He clears his throat and hands you a small bouquet of daises, sliding into the spot across from you. Nat gives a little self-satisfied smile from next to him. “Hi. I didn’t know what you liked, so I hope that’s okay. I’m- I’m Robert by the way, or Bob, whatever you prefer.”

You think your cheeks will split open from how hard you’re smiling. It’s such a small gesture, but the blush on his cheeks tells you that it’s earnest. “They’re perfect. Thank you, Bob.” You introduce yourself with the next breath, and he shakes your hand like it’s a business meeting. His palms are warm and just a little bit damp, but when his fingers curl around your own like they were meant to fit together, you couldn’t care less. “So,” you begin, somewhat shyly, “you’re Natasha’s WSO?”

When Bob hears your quiet voice, he knows he’s in deep. “Yeah. She’s a great pilot.” His praise earns him an elbow from Natasha, a silent ‘talk about yourself, dipshit’ evident in the action. He smiles nervously. “We do a lot of the weapons bits so the pilots can fly safely. How about you, what do you do?”

“It’s not as important and exciting as your job, that’s for sure.” You laugh before explaining exactly what you do.

“Honestly, that is important and exciting. I’m sure you excel at it, too,” Bob offers, somewhat bashfully. What makes your head spin is that he seems like he means it. He’s sincere, wonderfully so.

As that statement quirks the corners of your mouth up, Bob’s heart explodes. You’re charming and beautifully sweet, with a pretty smile and dashing eyes to boot.

Jamie enters your conversation carefully, like she wants to help but isn’t forcing anything. Natasha pipes in a few times, but overwhelmingly, it’s you and Bob. Neither of you have ever spoken so much in this type of setting before, and it’s great. You bounce ideas and jokes and quips off of each other like you were meant to. You feel like you were meant to, because everything just comes so easily with Robert Floyd. You’re finally talking to someone who understands every bit of you, polishing the hidden parts of yourself until they shine. You never thought you could feel this way with another person.

“Wait, have you read this book called For One More Day?” You ask, finding every opportunity to drag out a subject you enjoy so deeply. “It’s really sad, like a fictional memoir, but I think you’d enjoy it. The whole story is basically an ode to loving your parents while they’re still around.”

“I haven’t, but I’ll be sure to check it out the next time I go go the library.” Bob says, giving a slightly lopsided grin that makes your heart scream. “It seems right up my alley though. I like non fiction books, mostly, but I could go for a change every once and a while.”

Your food is almost forgotten in the midst of the conversation, and his is too. “When you do read fiction, what genres do you go for? I have a million recommendations, so help me narrow them down a bit.”

Bob will never admit this to his friends, but he’s an avid reader. He’s a sucker for a true story or anything about dogs, however, he’d read anything you could ever think to tell him about. He has already made a mental note to check out For One More Day and is currently making more notes as you list off more dog-central books. You, as you’ve told him, go for more of the fancy prose-d, heavy drama-d, and emotion-filled stories. It’s nice to see you like this, talking about something you’re honestly passionate about. The light in your eyes makes you look like a ray of sunshine.

Jamie grins at Natasha from across the table, utterly and unashamedly content that her plot has worked. Natasha rolls her eyes. “Alright, you two,” Nat says, “can we move on to something more exciting? Like planning a second date, maybe. One where Jamie and I can be happy at home while you two nerd out.”

Bob’s face reddens and you give a small, sheepish smile. “I’d like that.” You say.

“Me too.” Bob adds. Natasha can firmly say that she’s never seen him so happy, not even after a successful flight. It’s like he’s finally found the thing that made him tick, like you reached into his chest and wound up the gear box in his heart. “I’m free this Friday, if you’re up for it.”

You tap your fingers on the tabletop, thinking. “This Friday… this Friday is when I’m doing a book reading for the kids at our local library at lunchtime. We could have dinner after that, though.” You want to spend the entire day with him, but if a few hours is all you’re given, you’ll take it. You’d take anything.

Bob’s hands move to touch yours, just barely. His warmth radiates out, perfectly soothing your nerves. “If you want, I can make lunch and help you out at the book reading. I like those kinds of things, but I don’t want to impose.”

“You absolutely should.” You breathe. “You wouldn’t be imposing at all. In fact, I think the kids would really like it if Mr. Naval Aviator read a few books to them. You’d be like a superhero in their eyes.”

You’re a bit astounded by how much Bob’s face flushes. If you thought he was a bit pink before, he’s got a drunk man’s glow now. And you were being completely, one hundred percent honest when you said that the kids would like him. They’d love him. Micah’s father was in the Navy when he was younger, so there’s one connection, and April loves airplanes with a passion. It would be amazing.

“Then I’ll be there. Here’s my number, so you can text me when and where.” Bob slides a little piece of paper over to you, one that he must have written a bit ago, because his pen is securely clipped to his pocket. He likes you so much he wrote down his number while you were (probably) explaining your love for reading, or crafts, or small animals? You’re going to swoon if he keeps this up.

Natasha eyes where your hand is touching Bob’s. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. Now eat your food.” She gestures to your half-touched plates. You and Bob both stutter a little, completely having forgotten what you’re going to have to pay for.

The rest of the evening goes amazingly. You talk about so many subjects that by the end of the day, when the sun is slipping below the horizon, you feel like you’re floating on air— light and unburdened by the way you’ve been able to express yourself. Bob insisted on paying for your meal, and though you protested, a little part of you feels giddy that you’re worth spending money on. Bob walks you to your car, tucking your flowers into the cup holder between your seat and the passenger side.

“I really enjoyed that.” He muses. “I really enjoyed you. I thought Nat and Jamie were kinda full of it when they told me about this whole double date, but I’m glad they weren’t.”

“Me too, oh my gosh. I was totally expecting some stuck-up Navy nerd, but I’m glad it was you. I enjoy you too, Bob, probably way too much.” You’re standing by your door, but you feel like you can’t leave just yet.

He looks at you with something you hope to think is affection in his eyes before glancing down towards your lips. “I’ll let you get going. Text me anytime.”

You hesitate, staring up into his ocean blue eyes. Before you can stop yourself or tell yourself it’s a bad idea, you take the collar of his shirt in your hand and kiss him.

It feels right. His hand coming up to rest on your waist, his body pressed against yours as he stabilizes himself on your car, it’s everything you’ve always dreamed of. His lips work in tandem with your own, like they’re collaborating on some sort of secret mission, and he kisses you like he loves you.

His pupils are blown up and he’s panting just slightly when you pull away. He misses the feeling of your lips on his as soon as it ends, the tingling sensation working its way down his face. “T-Thank you…?” He whispers. You laugh, the sound music to his ears. He can hardly believe that that just happened.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Definitely.“

You give him a small peck on the cheek and step into your car, so happy you think you could explode. As you pull out, and as he waves at you from the parking lot, you make an effort to remember to thank Jamie and Natasha.

Who would’ve thought that you really would be birds of a feather?

Taglist: @seitmai

[ellecdc]

Come Back, Be Here (finale)

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 5.7k

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, hurt/comfort, fluff, use of Y/N

A/N: Holy. Friggen. Crap. WHAT A RIDE! Thank you all so much for enjoying this story with me - it has truly felt like the most niche book club and I have had so much fun chatting with you all. Feel free to send in requests for these lovely characters in the CBBH universe - I'd love to continue playing with them! xx

Lily and James Potter returned to 12 Grimmauld place on the 3rd of November – Sirius’ birthday. There were long hugs, a lot of tears and soft dinner conversation, but there would be no gifts or raucous celebrating. 

Regulus Black was arrested at Malfoy Manor as a marked Death Eater, but with the backing of James, Sirius and Dumbledore, the Ministry allowed Regulus to be placed on house arrest, confiscating his wand whilst he awaited trial. Dumbledore assured the group that because of Regulus’ defection, his support of the Order, and the memories that Dumbledore, you, and those who were present on October 31st provided the Ministry, Regulus would likely be acquitted of his charges, or at the very least receive a lighter sentence. 

Tom Riddle was quickly charged with treason, tyranny, countless charges of the use of unforgiveables, countless charges of leading or causing the death of wizards, witches, and muggles, countless charges of torture and brutality, eliciting fear and chaos, and illegal use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss and the act was carried out on the 5th of November. 

Peter Pettigrew did indeed receive a fair trial for his role in the Wizarding War. He was questioned under Veritaserum, and it was found that he was guilty of treason, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, the use of Dark Magic, and sexual assault and brutality. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Lucius Malfoy came looking for his son and was thus arrested by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the charge of being a marked Death Eater. He was questioned under Veritaserum which proved Lucius was guilty of harboring dangerous criminals, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, and the use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban. His property and vault at Gringott’s were seized by the Ministry and, after taking what was owed for reparations, was placed into his son’s name. 

The Ministry respected Narcissa Malfoy’s dying wish and placed Draco Malfoy in the care of Sirius Black and Y/N L/N. The Ministry offered the couple access to the Malfoy vault to support Draco’s upbringing, but they opted to leave it aside for the child to choose what to do with the fortune when he was of age.

Narcissa Malfoy’s funeral took place on the 7th of November. The blustery November air accosted the patrons which mostly consisted of Order members and a few of Narcissa’s friends who were able to dodge persecution for their roles or complacency in the war. She was awarded an Order of Merlin posthumously for her role - a title she now shared with you, Sirius, James, Lily, Remus, and later Regulus along with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. Draco left his mother a beautiful bouquet of narcissus, baby’s breath, lavender, and pink camelia’s. You and Sirius gave her a bouquet of edelweiss, fern, and gladioli. Blue hydrangeas and hyssops came from Regulus who was unable to attend due to the nature of his house arrest but were placed at Narcissa’s headstone by Lily and Harry in the family plot of Malfoy Manor. Andromeda, Ted and Nymphadora Tonks stood by you, Sirius, and Draco at the headstone during the funeral service as Dumbledore spoke of the bravery, loyalty, and dedication Narcissa showed not only to her son and her family, but to the greater wizarding world on the 31st of October. 

“There is not one witch or wizard amongst us today that does not owe Narcissa Black Malfoy a considerable debt. Without her bravery and cunningness, evil could very well have prospered, dooming us all to life of immense pain and suffering. She dreamed of a legacy - of a better future - for her own son as well as for every child of wizard kind. Narcissa was a beyond bright student during her time at Hogwarts, a strong leader in her social circle, a skilled healer during the war, and an incredibly brave soldier. Though, possibly her favourite and certainly her greatest role was that of a loving mother; for she died to ensure that her son would live to see a better tomorrow. Narcissa Black Malfoy is the type of person, friend, partner, and parent that each of us should aspire to be. May her legacy of love and loyalty live eternally.” He said as he raised his wand.

One by one, every person present raised their wand to the heavens in honour of Narcissa Malfoy and her sacrifice to the wizarding world. Draco, Harry and Nymphadora, along with the Weasley children and Neville Longbottom who did not yet have their own wands raised a narcissus flower in solidarity.

The remaining marauders, you, Lily, and Regulus did indeed stay at 12 Grimmauld place for some time. The house was unrecognizable from the time Regulus and Sirius spent growing up there; it was bright, it was colourful, it was full of children’s laughter and squealing, it was a place people liked to come to visit, and it was chock full of love. 

The problem with the new and improved Grimmauld Place? 

Your tribe quickly outgrew it. 

As time went on, your memories seemed to return to you basically in full, and the full extent of your trauma reared its ugly head. For years you became hyper-focused on knowing where each member of your family was at any given moment, and a panic attack threatened any moment you didn’t have everyone important to you within your periphery. The Third Worst Day™ of Sirius’ life (in chronological order, the first being the day he almost ruined things between you two, the next being the day you ‘died’) was the day Lily and James suggested to you, him, Remus, and Regulus that they should perhaps fix up Potter Manor and move their ever-growing family there. It was partly the worst day because of how the idea of James and Lily moving away made him feel, but it was mostly because of the mental breakdown you had at the news. 

“You can’t! You can’t do this! I just got you back, we just got each other back. You can’t do this!” You shouted as everyone tried to get you to breathe. The numerous hands approaching you placatingly was in fact not what you needed at the moment, and you fell into a manic state.

Needless to say, the suggestion was not met well by you, and ended with you being admitted to the psychiatric ward at St. Mungo’s. Sirius sat at your bedside with your hand in his, Lily and James in chairs across from him whilst Regulus and Remus stayed home and watched the children. 

“I cannot live without any of you anymore. I’m sorry, but I refuse. I can’t do it.” Sirius admitted quietly to his friends as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

You had been dosed heavily with calming draught and dreamless sleep in order to prevent any seizure activity, which you became plagued with due to the trauma of the brain from memory retention and prevention throughout the war. 

“I can’t either.” James admitted, causing Lily to turn and face him.

“I’m sorry Lil’s, I know-” he cut himself off to take a steadying breath. “I know when we got married, you probably imagined us living at the Manor or maybe in another place as independent adults. After we lost mum and dad, I’m sure you imagined us taking that over in their place, and I think I wanted that too, but now, knowing what we know, I would have done things differently. I wish we had moved in with mum and dad and been there to enjoy their last few years with them. We had our own flat at the time and Moony, Pads, and Vix had theirs and I was so lucky that I got to spend as much time with Vixen as I did, being her order partner and all, but then she was gone, and I regretted ever spending a single moment away from her. Now...now I’m afraid that every second I don’t spend with you – all of you, any of you, my family – is a second wasted and I don’t want to waste another precious second. Not anymore. Not ever again.” 

Lily looked imploringly at her husband.

“You really are a bell-end.” She muttered fondly.

“Pardon me?”

“Do you really think I imagined us living alone in that big ass manor just us and our kids? What part of that do you think appeals to me? I love you, James, but a girl needs backup to deal with the likes of you.” 

Sirius and James exchanged a bemused glance before Lily continued.

“I want to live the rest of my life with my family. That’s you, James, and our kids, but it’s also Sirius and Y/N, it’s Remus and Regulus and Draco. Hell, if Alice and Frank or Marlene and Dorcas told me they wanted to move in I’d happily help them pack the boxes.” She laughed as she looked at you and Sirius’ intertwined hands.

“I think we’re all going to be stuck with one another until the end of time.” James said as he pulled his wife into his side.

Sirius smiled greatly at them. “Until all the mischief is managed.”

After that, the friends all agreed that none of them were willing to part from the group, and if for whatever reason anyone felt the need for more privacy, they would opt to build an outbuilding on the property.

“Oi! You’ve gotta knock, Prongs! Fuckin’ wanker.” Sirius had shouted as he hastily pulled the sheets up around the two of you.

“Uhm, maybe you’ve gotta lock the door, Pads.” James muttered with a mouthful of muffin as he came in to sit on the edge of the bed, completely unperturbed by the fact that the two of you were still naked and very recently involved in unmentionable deeds. 

Nevertheless, no one ever felt the need to build their own place on the property.

And Sirius made sure James got a taste of his own medicine a time or two after that incident.

Lily Evans Potter did indeed contact Healer Grundke at the end of the war and was brought on to work under her as an intern whilst she worked toward getting her Healer license. She spent many years in general medicine before moving fulltime to labour and delivery. Sirius often teased her that between the number of days she has spent in labour & delivery as a patient and as a doctor, he was surprised any of their other friends ever saw her. 

His nose was charmed green for a week.

Regulus Black was eventually acquitted of his crimes. He was placed on a sort of life-long probation in the form of a tracking spell on his wand that would alert the Ministry of him ever practicing Dark Magic. He opted to stay with his brother and his friends though he pretended to hate every minute of it. In truth, Regulus found great joy in being an uncle to Sirius’ and James’ children and Godfather to his best friend’s daughter Luna Lovegood. He declined the opportunity to join the Wizengamot, stating that as the rightful heir to the Black name, Sirius should be the one to take the Black’s seat.

Sirius Black, in Sirius Black fashion, dramatically refuted this idea. He did not want to pick up the mantle that was laid for him by the generations of Black’s before him; he refused to sit in the nearly still warm seat that his father had left. It took Regulus, Remus, and Lily all to tell him how much good he could do by not only bringing in a younger generation’s perspective to the Wizengamot, but as a wealthy heir to a pureblood line, a war hero, and an advocate for werewolf and muggleborn rights, he could bridge the gap between the left and right-wing members of the court.

It also helped that you had told him he’d be the only one capable of making the robes look punk rock. 

James Potter opted to be a stay-at-home dad and uncle to care for the children living at Potter Manor. The Potter vaults had enough money in them to last his family multiple lifetimes without every making a dent, and with the money Lily was making as a healer, there was no need to be worried financially. Also, being a kid at heart made him the absolute best friend of any child who met him. As the children grew older, he and Mrs. Weasley worked together to homeschool the children of the Order until they were old enough to attend Hogwarts.

Remus Lupin, never one willing to ride on his friend’s coat tails, spent the first few months following the war applying to various jobs through out Wizarding London. He had hoped that between his stellar academic record, his time spent as a prefect and tutor, his Order of Merlin, and his dedication to the winning side of the Wizarding War, that he would be able to secure a job within wizarding society. Unfortunately, it seemed the wizarding world still had a long way to go with the prejudice it held for werewolves. Walking through Diagon Alley feeling sorry for himself, Remus spotted a ���for lease” sign in the window of what used to be a pet store. He immediately sent an owl to the landlord and asked for a meeting. 

Though Remus tried to refuse, Sirius and James insisted on investing in Remus’ planned bookstore.

“I’m not borrowing money, Prongs.” Remus muttered defiantly.

“It’s not borrowing, Moons! It’s an investment! If anything, you’ll be making me more money.” He exclaimed excitedly.

“Moony, please,” Sirius added...well, seriously, “think of how pissed off my ancestors would be to know I’m investing their money in a half-blood werewolf’s business which happens to stock muggle literature?” 

With a mischievous smirk, the deal was settled, and the lease was signed. 

Remus wasted no time to get started at the bookstore. He walked into the small storefront and conjured a broom, deciding to start by sweeping up the hay and owl droppings.

No sooner had he started did he hear the door chime. 

“Oh! My apologies, we’re not quite open yet.” Remus offered as he made his way to the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you and Regulus standing in the entry.

“I should hope not. This place looks awful.” Regulus commented with a wrinkled nose.

You elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Looks like you could use some help.” You said cheerily as you held out a stack of papers. Remus took them gently to find your CV and cover letter. Before Remus could even look up, Regulus dropped his on top of yours in Remus’ hand.

“All my references are either dead or in prison so.” He offered with a shrug.

“I’ll vouch for him.” You said.

You were smiling at him so kindly and so sweetly, Remus wanted to cry. You had always been his biggest supporter; championing him through every milestone in Remus’ life. He was certain he didn’t deserve even half of the love you gave him, but he was eternally grateful for every drop of it.

“Thank you, guys.” Remus said wetly as he pulled the two of you in for a hug. Regulus groaned the entire time but when Remus finally pulled away, he had a slight blush. 

“Yeah, yeah. Well, what is family for?” He muttered which elicited a sharp gasp from you and a bark of laugh from Remus.

“Don’t be going soft on us now, Black!” Remus said with a laugh and ruffled his hair. 

“Fuck you guys, clean this barn up on your own.” He grumbled as he turned to leave, but the two of you wouldn’t let him.

He was grateful that you didn’t. 

Sirius eventually proposed to you – though beg was likely a more appropriate definition.

“We should get married.” He had said to you late one night as he came back to the bedroom after putting Draco down. 

You lowered your book into your lap as you considered him. “I beg your pardon?”

“We should get married.” He repeated plainly.

Your lip threatened to quirk into a smirk, but you kept your face blank. “And why should we get married?”

Sirius guffawed at you. “Uhm, maybe because we’re in love? And I’m the best and would be the best husband?”

You continued to stare at him.

“Why shouldn’t we get married?” He asked, now beginning to panic.

“I never said we shouldn’t.”

“Then why won’t you marry me?” He shrilled as he moved to kneel at the end of the bed.

“You’re the first thought in my mind when I wake up in the morning and my last thought at night before I fall asleep. Fuck, you make up the majority of my dreams too. Did you know that? Did you know that I go to the Ministry and count down the minutes until I get to see you again? Did you know that when you’re at work, I spend my time thinking about what you’re doing, who you’re talking to, what they’re saying to you and you to them? And not in a stalkery way, I swear. But I just think you’re the coolest fucking person ever and I’m jealous of everyone who gets to listen to you speak when I’m stuck at home or at work. And I watch you with Draco -our sweet boy - and our Godson and the other children and I get fucking giddy thinking that I get to spend the rest of my days with a woman so lovely. So, marry me. Marry me, damnit!”

It was a battle to keep your face straight but by the absolute grace of God you did before saying “Siri, babe, you’re coming off a little desperate.”

There was a brief pause before you got a “you cheeky little minx” and 45 seconds of tickling which turned into kissing which turned into touching which turned into so much more.

You were sticky and satisfied as you both caught your breath, still intertwined with one another when you said, “I will.”

“Hm?”

“I will.” You repeated as you leaned onto your elbow so you could look him in the eyes. “I’ll marry you. Marry me.”

Sirius stared at you in awe before pulling you down into his embrace for a searing kiss which once again turned into so much more. 

And you guys did. Marry each other, that is. It was a beautiful spring day on the grounds of Potter Manor with only your closest family and friends. It was perhaps a touch smaller than what either you or Sirius grew up picturing your wedding to be, but it was so much better than either of you could have ever imagined.

“...I thank my lucky stars every day that I get to love such a wonderful woman. There’s not one person in this world who deserves to know the likes of you, me least of all, but will do everything I can to ensure I get to keep what little light you’re willing to share with me forever. I have already loved you in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor, and in life and in death. There is not one planet in any universe, nor a timeline that exists where my love for you does not. I vow to you that you will never spend a day in this life not being loved by me. Wherever you go, I go; in this life and the next.” Sirius said through his tears. 

With a smile you began your own vows. “Sirius, I have had the absolute pleasure of getting to witness you become the man you are today. It wasn’t always easy or pretty, but I have seen you through it all; the good, the bad, the really bad, and the ugly. And I have loved you through all of it. As I laid dying, I told James that I didn’t regret a single moment of this life with you, and that is still true today. Every moment, all the blood, sweat, and tears, brought us here today - and I would still do all of it again if it meant getting to stand here today by your side. I made a vow that I would find you in our next life and I would love you there too. Well, here I am. I found you. I will always find you.”

Lily, Marlene, and Alice stood by your side, and James, Remus, and Regulus stood by Sirius’ as your magic was bound together, and you were pronounced husband and wife.

Sirius hung the framed parchment that Remus had found in the wooded area where he first met Regulus in his office. The note symbolized your dedication to him, to your friends and family, and your unyielding perseverance. The parchment was later joined by your wedding pictures, drawings that he and Harry had painted back in Grimmauld place as well as pictures Harry and Draco had given him since, and the first ever check he received for his investment in A Marauder’s Map to Books. 

You loved working at Moony’s bookstore; everyday felt like getting to hang out with your best friends even though you pretty much lived with them as well. It was nice to see Remus and Regulus in a setting outside of the parental/guardian role you’d all taken on following the war. You were surprised at first (though you supposed you should have known better) that Remus and Regulus worked really well together – Regulus’ uptight and serious façade was well balanced with Remus’ laidback and jovial personality. Regulus would handle the more difficult customers whilst Remus made sure every customer who came in felt welcome. Things often fell by the wayside or got overlooked when Remus was away due to the moons, and Regulus was quick to pick up the slack. Regulus would often get too caught up in work and forget to stay fed or hydrated, which Remus counteracted by briskly walking past Regulus and placing biscuits and cups of tea brewed exactly to Regulus’ liking before he could refuse. If you noticed Regulus’ cheeks tinge peak and a shy smile grace his lips – you didn’t mention it. 

Draco grew to be a very happy child; you and Sirius couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride every time that boy giggled or laughed. You kept your word and left the Malfoy vaults untouched save twice a year when Narcissa would purchase a gift for Draco on June 5th and December 25th. 

He was such a good son and an even better big brother. 

Draco was the most jealous of Harry when Harry became a big brother to his sister Jasmine Potter. It was hard not to chuckle at how proud the four-and-a-half-year-old was as he bragged about being the ‘bestest big brother’ and watching Draco skulk around the house. 

“I could be a big brother! Really, I could. I’d be so nice and gentle, and I would share all my toys!” He told you and Sirius solemnly as you tucked him in to bed. You assured him he would indeed be a wonderful big brother, but not to worry about it too much as you were sure Lily and James could use two big brothers for their newest addition. 

You both gave him kisses goodnight and closed the door behind you. You’d hardly made it two steps from the door before your husband had you pushed up against the wall. 

“I could be a really good daddy too, you know?” He whispered into your neck before starting to suck on your pulse point.

You couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped your lips. “Are you trying to tell me something?” 

Sirius kissed his way back up your jaw before slotting his lips against yours. “Perhaps we should give the kid what he wants.” He managed between kisses.

You chuckled.

“He gets everything he wants already, Siri.” You whispered back as you pulled his body flush with yours.

“What about me, hm?”

You pulled your head back to search his face. “Do you want another baby, Sirius?”

Sirius’ pupils seemed to blow wide at the sentiment. “I don’t so much want a baby as I want your baby, my love.” He whispered reverently.

Your restraint snapped and you launched yourself at him. He caught you as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.  

Approximately ten months later you gave birth to your daughter Aurora Black.

September 1st, Kings Cross Station

“Merlin’s saggy balls, how do you – for fuck sa– oh, got it!” Sirius could be heard behind you as he fought with the pram. 

“Would you watch your mouth?” Lily muttered.

“Yeah Pads, watch your fuckin’ mouth!” James loudly announced causing other parents to look over at the absolute freak show that was the Potter & Black family’s stepping onto Platform 9 ¾.

“Sorry.” You offered with a quiet smile to a particularly perturbed looking couple as they grabbed their smarmy looking child and ushered him away from the likes of you. “Wankers.” You muttered as they hobbled off.

“Who’s a wanker, mum?” Draco asked as he slid up beside you. The rotten child knew he wasn’t supposed to use such language but couldn’t pass the chance at getting to repeat your nasty comment.

“Presently, it’s you.” You commented while teasingly narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Oi, leave your poor mum alone! You’re buggering off to Hogwarts and leaving her with the likes of me for the next ten months.” Sirius said as he (finally) made his way to you with the pram in tow. The three-year-old twins seemed none the wiser that they just nearly got folded into the damned thing and thrown onto the tracks in a fit of rage. 

“My deepest condolences during this trying time.” Draco offered you severely.

Sirius scoffed and you laughed as you pulled him into an embrace. You were waiting for the day he pushed you away because hugging your mom goodbye in front of your friends was embarrassing. But today, you relished in the feeling of your first child letting you hold him tight.

“I’m so proud of you, Draco.” You murmured into his platinum hair.

“Thank you, mum.” He responded quietly. 

“Draco! Harry! Over here!” The sound of Hermione Granger interrupted your hug as Draco turned to wave at his friends. 

“Be good kid, okay? Look out for your sister?” Sirius asked as he pulled Draco into his own embrace.

“’Course, dad. I’m not new here.” He teased as he ruffled Aurora’s hair.

“Draaaccoooo...” She whined in response.

“Go see ‘Mione.” You ordered Draco with one last side hug. Harry and Draco swapped parents and siblings to give their respective goodbyes before heading off to catch up with their friends. 

“Are you ready, Rory?” Jasmine Potter asked your daughter kindly. She was a year above Aurora and was very excited to get the chance to show her younger cousin around the castle. 

Your daughter looked between her cousin and her parents before Sirius spoke up. “Jazz, do you mind giving us a minute?” He asked his Goddaughter.  

Jasmine turned to talk to James and Lily who were busy entertaining Posie and Lyra as you and Sirius bent down to talk to Aurora.

“What’s on your mind, love?” You asked your daughter gently.

Your heart welled as Aurora’s eyes turned glassy.

“I’m not ready.”

Sirius made a cooing sound as he wiped the tears from under her lash line. “What are you most worried about, my little star?”

Aurora sniffled miserably. “What if I’m sorted into the wrong house?”

You and Sirius couldn’t help but rear your head at the comment. Out of all the things you thought would be worrying your daughter on her first day of boarding school, which house she got sorted into was not it.

“Rory, that’s the exciting part baby.” You tried as you rubbed her arm consolingly.

“I get it, Ro, I was worried about which house I was going to be sorted into as well.” Sirius commented.

Aurora rubbed a fist against her eye as she turned to consider her father. “Really?”

Sirius nodded solemnly. “Really. You see, I came from a long line of proud Slytherins. I was supposed to get sorted into that house too, because I was supposed to be just like them. But I couldn’t be like them, I could only be like me. So, I was sorted in Gryffindor, even though my family didn’t like it.” 

“Did you get in trouble?”

Sirius nodded sadly. “I did.”

“But Ro, you know that no matter what house you get sorted into, me and daddy are going to be so, so, so proud of you. And we’ll be proud of you because you’re you, not because you were sorted into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor or Hufflepuff or Slytherin.” You added with a soft smile.

Aurora seemed to consider this. “Well, Harry and Jazzy are in Gryffindor, and Draco is in Slytherin. I’d like to be in one of those I think.”

You nodded at her, but it was Sirius who answered.

“That’d be pretty cool, huh? But listen, I met the most fantastic people in my house even though I knew no one in it when I first got sorted. Uncle Prongs and Uncle Moony were my dormmates for seven years and look at us now! Completely co-dependent and still living together.”

“What is co-dependent?” Aurora asked with furrowed brows.

“Not important. What I’m trying to say is, Rory, you are going to give that hat a run for its money, you know why?” Sirius asked.

Aurora shook her head.

“Because you are your mother’s daughter. And she is the the most loyal, the most cunning, the bravest and the smartest person I know. You���ve been raised by the most spectacular person, and any one of those houses will be lucky to have you. Got it?”

You watched as Rory took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before offering her dad a solid nod.

“Atta girl!” He said as he enveloped her in a hug and kissed her head. “You show that sorting hat who’s boss.” 

Aurora chuckled as she moved to hug you.

“I’m so proud of you, my love.” You said into her hair. She tightened her hold on you before letting go and stepping back.

“I think we’re ready for you, Jazzy.” You called, and the older girl came and took Aurora’s hand as they headed towards Draco and Harry to board the train.

James and Sirius wolf whistled and hollered, waving frantically as they watched the kids walk away. Hermione, Harry and Draco chuckled while Neville and Ron turned beat red at the attention.

You propped Lyra on your hip and the two of you continued to wave as the train pulled away. None of you stopped waving until you couldn’t see your babies anymore.

A sob tore its way through James, and you looked over to see Lily making alarmed eye contact with you as she awkwardly patted his arm and he and Sirius leaned into each other.

“First time?” An older woman asked as she went to walk past you.

“No” was yours and Lily’s chorused response as you peeled your husband away from his best mate and moved him toward the pram where your youngest two sat forgotten. 

“Lord, is it going to be this bad every time we send one of the kids off the first time?”

“It’ll be worse!” Sirius cried emphatically as he fell into your arms, basically crushing poor Lyra who was still sat on your hip. You looked over to Lily hoping for help only to see her in a similar predicament. 

“Sirius Black, at this rate our youngest three won’t ever want to come back to Kings Cross Station.” You muttered as you moved Lyra to your other hip so you could support your husband’s weight.

“Good! Then they’ll never leave me!” 

Your heart twinged as you patted Sirius’ back.

“Siri, look at me.” 

For a moment you thought he might refuse, but he unfolded himself slowly and stood to look at you. 

“This is what we fought for, my love.” You said as you caressed his cheek. “So that our babies could go to Hogwarts and learn and be children and be free and be safe.”

“I still hate it.”

You laughed at his petulance. “Me too, actually. Do you think Hogwarts is hiring? What if we all just move there?”

“Great idea, Vix!” James cheered from beside you, eyes rimmed and cheeks glistening. “Lily flower could work in the infirmary, Padfoot could teach astronomy, you could teach muggle studies, I could teach flying, Moony could teach defence against the dark arts and Regulus could teach potions! It’s perfect!”

Though you had to admit this plan of James’ actually sounded pretty perfect, your attention turned to little Posie falling asleep in Lily’s arms. 

“Why don’t we discuss this more once we get these kiddos down for a nap, hm?”

Sirius found you later sitting in the sunroom with a book in hand. He thought you made the prettiest picture sitting in the soft sun filtering through the leaves of the trees outside, plants surrounding you with your nose buried in a book. So, he took a picture. 

“I wasn’t ready!” You whined with a smile on your face.

“You’re always ready.” He said as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry I was such a mess at the train station today.” He said as he lifted your legs off the loveseat to sit down and replace them atop his lap.

“You don’t have to apologize, Siri.” You said as you tapped him with your book. 

“I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” He commented, his gaze seemed far away as he watched the branches dance in the September breeze.

“You can do that tomorrow.” You whispered back.

A smile graced his face before he turned to look at you. “I love you; did you know? I don’t think I say it enough, but I do; I love you.”

He punctuated his sentence with three loving squeezes of the fat of your thigh.

“Sirius. Every breath I take means ‘I love you’.” You responded and sealed it with a kiss. 

You got an owl from Draco and Aurora later that night.

Aurora was a hat stall.

She was also sorted into the same house as her mum.

Thank you so much for reading! Can't get enough? Check out these CBBH themed one shots, or, feel free to request a one-shot from your faves in this universe!

[writingdumpster]

secret wife part two

pairing: Bob Floyd x reader

warnings: none

summary: part two to secret wife, accessible through my navigation, pinned to my profile.

word count: 1.7k

You were in the kitchen of your North Island rental, zipping around as you prepared dinner for the dagger squad. You had lemon bars in the oven and chicken cooking on the stove. Bob had mentioned to you that he’d shared your lemon bars with Phoenix before and they were Daisy’s favorite as well. Daisy was Bob’s sister. She was just one year younger than him and she’d become a close friend of yours since meeting her. When you’d invited her to dinner you told her to dress nicely because you wanted to take a photo for your instagram with her. You didn’t tell her about Bob’s friends coming and you certainly didn’t tell her how you thought Hangman would be perfect for her after only a few stories about him from Bob. Bob was quietly laying plates and silverware out, stacking napkins beside them as you arranged your counter for the guests to serve themselves. 

“Can you go get that, Robby?” You asked as you heard the first knock on the door. Bob went to answer the door and Daisy came bounding in. 

“Where is that beautiful wife of yours, Bob?” She asked with a smile.  

“What? No ‘Hello, Bob; Nice to see you?’ Just ‘where’s my wife?’” Bob teased. 

“That’s exactly right, Bobby Boy. Is she in the kitchen while you sit around?” Daisy asked as she toed off her shoes and headed for the kitchen. 

“Hey, y/n,” Daisy greeted as she walked in. She came in and took in all the food you’d made. “Is it more than just me?” She asked. 

“Some of Robby’s friends are coming over too,” you told her. “The ones who went on the mission with him.” 

“Oh, that’s great,” Daisy said with a smile. “Do you want any help?” She offered as there was another knock on the door. Bob went to go answer it and let Payback, Coyote, and Fanboy into the house. Fanboy had a bouquet of flowers with him. 

“You brought flowers?” Bob asked when he opened the door. 

“I told you it was weird, man,” Payback said. 

“You’re not supposed to show up to someone’s home empty handed,” Fanboy grumbled. 

“No, y/n will love it. The ones I bought her last week are dying,” Bob said. Fanboy smiled slightly. Rooster was striding up the steps to your house just as Coyote walked through the doorway. He had a bottle of wine in his hand and he handed it to Bob. 

“I told you it’s not weird to bring something,” Fanboy hissed at Payback. 

“That’s wine, not flowers. It’s a little weird,” Coyote piped in. 

“It’s not weird. It’s nice,” Bob assured Fanboy as he led his friends into the kitchen. You turned to see your new guests led by Bob with flowers and a bottle of wine in hand.

“Aw, who brought flowers?” You asked with a smile. 

“Fanboy,” Bob said. 

“That’s so nice,” you said as you took them. Bob placed the bottle of wine on the counter and went looking for the opener. Fanboy stuck his tongue out at Payback when you turned around which only earned him an eye roll in return. You began placing the flowers in a vase when there was one last knock at the door. Bob opened the door to welcome Phoenix and Hangman into your home. He instructed them to take off their shoes and then ushered them into your kitchen. You looked over at Daisy the moment you saw it was Hangman who had arrived. You watched as her eyes widened and a tiny smile spread across her lips. You smirked to yourself. 

“Right on time,” you greeted your newest guests. “Serve yourselves. Don’t be shy,” you said as you stepped aside. Rooster was the first to pick up a plate, giving himself a generous serving of the chicken you had made. The rest of Bob’s friends lined up, but Phoenix approached you before she grabbed a plate. 

“Bob told me you were going to make the lemon bars I like,” Phoenix said quietly. Her confidence was a bit shaky. She wanted you to like her. Bob had quickly become her best friend and she was worried that he hadn’t told her about you because you wouldn’t like her. She handed you a small gift bag. “I um, made this for you,” she told you. You opened the bag to find a hand knit scarf in your favorite colors. 

“This is so sweet. Thank you!” You said with a smile. 

“I know you’ll be back in Lemoore soon and it doesn’t get that cold there, but um,” Phoenix glanced down at her hands. “I thought maybe you and Bob could visit me in Norfolk sometime.” You smiled warmly. 

“That sounds wonderful,” you said as you pulled her into a hug. “I’m glad Robby has you,” you told her when you pulled away. 

“Yeah, me too,” she agreed with a smile. 

“Now go grab a plate before the boys eat everything,” you told her. You turned back and noticed that Hangman was seating himself beside Daisy. You’d managed to squeeze enough chairs around the dining room table. You settled across from Daisy once you’d gotten your own food. Bob kissed the top of your head as he took the seat beside you. Coyote, Rooster, and Payback were already eating but Fanboy sat there anxiously waiting for you and Bob to sit before he took a bite. 

“You didn’t have to wait for us,” Bob said as he took his first bite. 

“I told you,” Coyote teased before shoving another piece of chicken into his mouth.

“This is delicious,” Rooster gushed to you. 

“Don’t tell my mom, but this is the best food I’ve ever had,” Payback agreed. You thanked them with a smile. When everyone had eaten they all agreed that Bob must have fallen in love with you because of your cooking. 

“The cooking is great, but all she had to do was smile at me and I was hers,” Bob said as he took your hand upon the table. Phoenix smiled to herself, glad that her friend was so happy. 

“Robby and I will get this cleaned up. I’ve got dessert for all of you too,” you said. Fanboy and Phoenix quickly volunteered to help with the dishes. Daisy started to rise as well but you stopped her. “Relax. I’ve got enough help tonight,” you said before throwing an encouraging look towards Hangman. Hangman glanced over at Daisy. He started to open his mouth to introduce himself, but his breath caught in his throat. He cleared his throat roughly and then turned to her. 

“I’m Hang—” He stopped himself. “I’m Jake,” he told Daisy. Bob met your eye and you held in a laugh before you retreated to the kitchen. 

“Nice to meet you, Jake,” Daisy said with a smile. “I’m Daisy.” Jake couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. This wasn’t his signature cocky smirk though. This was a lovesick smile–one that was dripping with admiration and awe.

“Bob didn’t tell any of us he had a sister,” Jake said. Daisy smiled. 

“He doesn’t tell anybody anything,” she said. “He’s always been quiet.”

“And what about you?” Jake asked. “Did you take after your big brother?” Daisy laughed. 

“Not even a little bit,” she said. “I’m the family rebel,” she told Jake. 

“Let me guess…you went through an emo phase,” Jake guessed. 

“Oh, is it that obvious?” Daisy asked. 

“No, Bob puts on a playlist in the locker room sometimes and I know he doesn’t know anything besides country music. It’s got to be because of you,” he said. 

“Aw, my Bobby Boy still listens to my playlists?” Daisy asked. 

“I guess so,” Jake said with a smile. 

“He always liked the country. It’s how we grew up,” Daisy said. “I like to expand my tastes beyond just what played on the local radio when he drove us to school though.”

“I like country music,” Jake said. “But I’m mostly into classic rock,” he finished. Daisy smiled. 

“Bob says you play ‘Slow Ride’ on the jukebox everytime you go to some bar with him,” Daisy said. Jake blushed. 

“What else does he say about me?” Jake asked. 

“He told me you remind him of me,” she said. Jake grinned. 

“Do you like concerts?” He asked. Daisy smiled shyly. 

“Yeah, live music is great,” she said. 

“There’s a bar downtown that has bands play on Friday nights,” Jake spit out quickly. “Maybe…um, maybe I could take you?” He offered. 

“I don’t see why not,” she said with a smile. Jake grinned. 

“Great. That’s great,” he said, unable to wipe the grin off his face as he looked into her eyes. 

“I’ll give you my phone number before you leave,” she promised. Just then you walked back into the dining room with a tray of lemon bars, Bob trailing behind you with a fresh stack of plates. Everyone ate the lemon bars, throwing compliments your way with every bite. The dagger squad happily stayed to enjoy the night before Bob finally shooed Rooster out of his house, still remaining as he ate all of Bob’s leftovers. Bob turned back to you as he closed the door. You smiled warmly. He crossed the entryway and wrapped his arms around your waist. You raised your arms to rest on his taught chest. 

“I like your friends, Robby,” you told him. Bob smiled and kissed your nose.

“Your little scheme with Hangman seemed like it worked,” Bob commented. 

“You’re the one who told me that if I wanted Daisy to be stationed with us he was the best shot,” you reminded him. Bob chuckled. 

“He couldn’t stop smiling at her,” Bob said. “I’ve never seen him look at a girl like that at The Hard Deck.” 

“That’s because he was looking at her the way you look at me,” you said. Bob smiled softly. 

“And how’s that?” He asked. 

“Like I’m the only thing you care about,” you said. Bob grinned. He leaned down and kissed you lovingly. His lips were warm and strong against yours and you let out a small hum of satisfaction as he leaned away. 

“That’s because you are.”

[awxcoffeexno]

the patient - part 4

toxic!loganhowlett x reader

cherry wine

<< part 3 | series masterlist | fic masterlist | part 5 >>

summary: you and bobby are doing great but logan makes amends (he tries his damned best)

content: bobby and reader are having a grand old time but logan is suffering terribly at the hands of jean and he cannot seem to catch a break. reader is also extremely delulu towards the end.

warnings: 18+, mdni, apology sex, piv, lots of endearments used during sex, angsty sex, gentle sex, you'll-want-to-scream-at-reader-sex, all mentions of jean are actually referring to the phoenix who is extremely mentally unstable.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this was initially going to be the last part but I think I have some ideas + if you have any pls let me know because this has potential, especially w bobby

the days that follow are thick with tension between you and logan.

you’ve put distance between yourselves, trying to avoid each other as much as possible.

you spend more time with bobby, and it's so easy with him. bobby’s sweet and patient, his presence a balm for the wounds logan left behind.

often you have snow fights in the ground with bobby and his friends, other times you curl up and watch a silly nicholas sparks movie or two.

and,,, the sex is pretty good too. bobby might not have near two centuries of experience but if it's a good dicking down you need, he's happy to provide. plus he does this thing with ice… just thinking about it makes heat pool in your core.

"oi!" he says, finding you in the library on a particular chilly morning.

it's warm in here and emily brontë makes for great company.

you laugh as he scoops you up off the bean bag you're sitting on, pressing you against the wall and stealing a kiss. and then another. and then another.

"bobby!" you hiss. "what if one of the kids walk in?!"

"mmm…" he moans softly into your mouth, sliding his cool tongue against yours. "then it'll be a surprise biology lesson."

you smack his arm and he laughs, finally setting you down.

"emily brontë?" he asks, taking the book from you, careful to slide his finger into the pages so you don't lose your spot.

"ye, you like?"

"i love." he replies, flopping down next to you and opening the book, reading out loud from where you've left off.

yeah. it's so easy with bobby.

meanwhile, in the other wing of the mansion, logan’s world is crumbling. jean’s power over him is overwhelming, even the professor is struggling to reign her in, and in her attempts to bring logan closer, she’s slowly unraveling him.

she pushes him, tries to draw out the animal within, thinking she can control it, harness it. but logan isn’t a tool, and the strain of resisting her is breaking him apart.

you hear whispers from the other students, talk of how logan’s been snapping at everyone, his temper shorter than ever. even the mansion’s teachers, who are used to his rough edges, are keeping their distance. you’re not immune to the rumors, and each one is a reminder that despite everything, you still care about him deeply.

even so, during this time, logan tries to make it up to you, in his own way. he doesn’t apologize directly—he’s too proud, too stubborn for that—but you notice the small things he does. he leaves a cup of your favorite tea on your desk one morning, the steam still rising from the cup when you find it.

and the best part of it all is that he’s careful not to intrude on your time with bobby, even though you often catch him watching the two of you with a conflicted expression.

there’s even a day when you find a small bouquet of wildflowers left on your bed, the note simply reading, “you deserve better.”

it’s clear that he’s struggling with his emotions, trying to make amends in the only way he knows how. but you’re hurt, and you’re not ready to forgive him yet. you tuck away each gesture, each unspoken apology, knowing that it doesn’t erase the pain he caused.

the tension between you two remains, a storm waiting to break. the nights are the hardest for logan. jean’s attempts to mould him into something he’s not have pushed him to the edge, and he’s barely holding on.

he's begun spending his nights alone, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. he's too overwhelmed by jean and obviously, he can't have you anymore. the mansion feels like a cage, and he’s trapped within it, suffocating under the weight of his own thoughts.

night after night he takes this until it becomes too much.

you’re lying in bed, trying to distract yourself with a book, when there’s a soft knock at your door. you hesitate, knowing who it is before you even open it. you felt him decide several minutes ago and the nausea of the wait has you shaking.

when you open the door, logan is standing there, looking more broken than you’ve ever seen him. his eyes are red-rimmed, dark circles under them, and he’s trembling slightly, as if he’s barely holding himself together. and he's sopping wet. you hadn't even realised it was raining but by god, he's drenched.

“logan,” you breathe, your heart clenching at the sight of him. he smells awfully strongly of whiskey and tobacco.

“i can’t… i can’t do this anymore,” he says, his voice raw with emotion. there’s no pretense, no walls between you, just the man you’ve always known, stripped down to his most vulnerable self.

you let him in, closing the door softly behind him. logan’s presence fills the room, but it’s not the usual intensity you’re used to. tonight, he’s fragile, on the brink of breaking. he stands in the middle of your room, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, as if he’s trying to keep himself from falling apart.

without a word, you step forward and take his hand. he flinches at the contact, but then he grips your hand tightly – too tightly – his eyes closing as if he’s drawing strength from you.

you lead him to your bed, and the two of you sit down side by side. logan’s head drops, and he lets out a shaky breath.

“i’m sorry,” he says quietly, the words so soft you almost don’t hear them. “i’m sorry for everything.”

your heart aches at the sincerity in his voice. this is what you’ve been waiting for — an acknowledgment of the pain he caused you, of the way he hurt you. but seeing him like this, so broken, makes it hard to hold onto your anger.

you don’t say anything, just carefully climb into his wet lap, letting him know that you’re here, that you haven’t given up on him. you can feel the water start to seep through your clothes but you cannot bring yourself to care.

logan leans his head against your shoulder, the weight of it comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. you can feel the tension slowly leaving his body as he relaxes against you, and for a moment, the world outside doesn’t exist. it’s just the two of you, sitting in the dark, finding solace in each other’s presence.

“been an ass,” he mutters, his voice rough. “didn’t mean what i said. never wanted to hurt you.”

you swallow the lump in your throat and nod, even though he can’t see it. “i know,” you whisper. “but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”

logan sighs, his breath warm against your neck. “just don’t know how to fix this,” he admits. “but i want to try.”

the vulnerability in his voice tugs at something deep inside you, and you feel your resolve weakening. “logan… i don’t know if we can go back to how things were.”

you think back to bobby. and then you quickly wipe the thought away. if you dwell on it too much, you'll sabotage everything all at once.

“i’m not asking for that,” he says quickly, sitting up to look at you. his eyes are dark, filled with a mixture of regret and hope. “i just… i just want to be close to you again. i need you.”

it’s those last three words that break through your defenses. you’ve spent so long longing for logan to admit that he needs you, that he cares about you beyond the fights and the tension. hearing him say it now, when he’s at his lowest, feels like a lifeline – for both of you.

you take a deep breath, knowing full well you're probably making a mistake. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

something in his eyes shifts, and for the first time in days, you see the man you fell for. he leans in, hesitating for a moment, giving you the chance to pull away. but you don’t. when his lips meet yours, it’s gentle, almost tentative, as if he’s afraid of breaking you.

but you’re not broken. not anymore. and as you kiss him back, you let go of the anger, the hurt, and the frustration. all that’s left is the two of you, finding comfort in each other in the only way you know how.

the kiss deepens, becoming more desperate, more intense, as if both of you are trying to erase the pain with every touch. logan’s hands are on you, pulling you closer, his need for you palpable in every movement. there’s no hesitation now, no doubt—just the overwhelming need to be with each other, to find that familiar comfort in the only way that makes sense.

when you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, your hearts racing. logan looks at you, his expression torn between relief and fear. “i need you,” he repeats, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“i’m here,” you say again, and this time, you mean it in every possible way.

logan’s hands slide up your back, pulling you against him as he presses his forehead to yours. he slips them under your shirt and undoes your bra hook in a quick practiced movement.

"lo…" you whisper needily, pushing your fingers into his wet hair.

bobby was good— hell, bobby was great but with logan this is just something else. it always will be.

"i know, pretty girl. i'll take care of ya." he soothes, pulling your shirt and bra off you gently.

he lips are on your neck within a second, giant paws coming up to palm your breasts roughly. he groans when you rock your hips against his, squeezing your waist to still you.

"patience," he commands, only letting go when he's sure you'll listen.

carefully, he sinks his teeth into your neck again, perfectly in the spot that he knows makes you wild. you whine his name and it makes him smile against your skin.

"missed me, sugar?"

"so badly, lo! fuck…" you trail off as he moves his mouth down to suck a pink bruise into the soft flesh of your breast.

and then he's tugging on the waist of your jeans, pulling them over the swell of your butt, taking your panties with them.

"fuck, baby, look at you. making such a mess already." he runs his fingers through your lips and holds them up to show you, your sticky need webbing between his fingers.

he puts them in his mouth, sucking the nectar off and pulling them out with an obscene pop. it would make you blush but logan's said and done much worse with you.

"logan, please… been too long…"

"i know, sugar, i know. just wait."

his mouth is on yours then, and the mix of his tobacco and your need makes you moan as he eats your mouth out. sex with logan is always filthy, it's hot and messy and you're desperate for more.

he makes you sit up so that he can pop his belt off, the buckle hitting the floor with a clink as he shuffles his jeans off. his cock pops out, ramrod straight and red with need. how long has it been since he's found relief? you ache for him and with your need for him.

"c'mon, babygirl, sit," he directs, guiding you onto his cock. you're slick enough that your pussy starts swallowing him instantaneously.

"attagirl…" he groans, going back to suckling on your neck, making you mewl and whimper.

he tugs you further down, his grip on your waist bruising. lower and lower you sink down on him, walls fluttering around his girth as you moan his name helplessly. his cock is big, always too big, and it makes you bury your face in his neck. but his hold on you is unrelenting, holding you in place until he's balls deep in you.

"logan, please… please…" you beg, desperate to get him moving. having him like this, so fully in you, is overwhelming.

"look at me, angel," he encourages, voice uncharacteristically soft.

your eyes struggle to fix on his, but you manage with a shaky breath.

it takes him a moment to collect his own thoughts before it hits you what he's going to say next and it takes your breath away.

quickly, so he beats your vision to the point, he whispers, "i love you."

and fuck. the vision took your breath away but hearing him actually say it out loud makes you tear up and bury your face in his neck.

the moment is so raw, his furnace hot body making you sticky with sweat. his eyes burn holes into you with such genuine intensity, you get so desperately overwhelmed.

realising how much he's affected you, he gets you moving. he always knows what to do with you, even when you're crumbling. rolling your hips together, he kisses you deep and raw.

"let it go, baby, let it all go. i've got you." he encourages, making you pick up speed, his hands moving you steadily.

so you do. you finally, truly, let yourself go. you feel 19 again, letting logan take you like he did for the first time in that hotel room in the middle of bumfuck, nowhere.

it doesn't take him long, grunting in your ear, to get you to the edge. he feels the telltale squeezing of your walls and sees your eyes roll back into your head and knows right away.

"just like that, pretty girl… come for me, just like that."

you slump in his arms, falling over the edge and letting him help you ride your high. you pant into the crook of his neck, entirely spent, moaning happily when his climax follows yours.

he tips back carefully, holding you to his chest and pressing soft kisses into your hair.

"i'm sorry," he murmurs, rubbing your back soothingly. "i love you."

your eyes snap up to him, narrowing, but his are closed and he doesn't see you. you try to read his mind and see if he means every last word of it. it isn't for the lack of trying but logan's gotten awfully good at blocking you out in the last few weeks.

so you take a deep breath and just like that, you forget everything about bobby and believe him. you believe him.

--

helloooo, sorry about the delay on this one, i'd written it a week ago but wanted to make some edits (I never made them TT).

pls lmk if y'all have any requests for this one!!

love, d <3

--

<< part 3 part 5 >>

taglist: @beeingaflower, @uhnanix, @kokomixxk, @nighwingsdiscordkitten, @iluvloganhowlett, @reidsworld , @aleynaleia , @gboy2008 , @thegirlfromthemovies , @swthxrry , @mattymurderdocks , @malfoys-demigod , @angelcvts4u , @chxrrybomb22 , @coolio2195 , @fictionalmen-dilflover , @twinkleteaparty , @gracierae18, @brucebannerswifey , @evasmlp , @m1cky-y-y, @deaky-with-a-c, @capswife , @abarelyexistentbeing , @seasonofthenerd , @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @theoraekenslover , @starbuni , @fandomhopped , @techwrecker , @oakenshieldlover

[darling-stardust]

WHAT WAS HE MADE FOR?

Bonus images and text below cut:

Barbie is always in fashion babes I love her immensely and I love HERM immensely hahah....

I wanted to do a paper doll type of image and had no idea who I would draw, and then this hit me like a ton of bricks. I worked on this for 6 days LOL

Please let me know if you guys would think this would be a fun print? I might make one for myself anyway lol

Tumblr hates my guts so feel free to open images and explore

Here is the text for the image:

From the Makers of "Slap-Bracelet of Befriending", "Kellogg K-Nife", and "The One Ring to Repulse Them All"-

Dungeons and Daddies present:

BUILD A BOY - featuring - Hermie The Unworthy

Hermie is not your typical teen -ager, he is the son of a Non-Euclidean Being and the King of Hell !

Posing as a student of Teen High from Chaparral High School, Hermie's special interests are acting with the drama department, working up on stand - up routines, and being actively left out of the minds of his friends - turned - spouses Scary Marlowe, Lincoln Li-Wilson, Normal Swallows-Oak-Garcia, and Taylor Swift (no, not that one) while assisting on their quest to save the world their parents f*cked up.

He's also got his eyes set on stealing the Teenie the Teen mascot as a prank for Chaparral - And all before Finals ... If he can make it out alive!

Dress him - pose him- give him a tight five routine to perform!

He's an actor! He wants to do it!

"He's just a thing! Put an outfit that you want on him and he's going to look how you want him to look - it's for a purpose, he's not a person."

CHOOSE FROM A LARGE WARDROBE OF COSTUMES

Dark Acadamia- pinafore dress with lace button down and fashion heeled booties (book not included)

Joaquin Phoenix's "Joker" - Suit with loafer shoes and reusable face paint

School Dance* - Suit and heels with a single rose picked from his mother's garden

*pair with a veil and bouquet for an intergalactic wedding! (sold separately)

[autumntouched]

If Lost Return to Jake

Summary: Jake is a simp. It says so on his shirt

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x GF!Reader

Warnings: mention of sex but nothing explicit

A/N: Got drop kicked HARD today (at least a Phoenix fic was born for later), went looking for comfort, and came across something I whipped up a few weeks ago based on a chat @glen-powells and I had about t-shirts Jake definitely owns. Could be better, but it made me smile

As soon as you get home, you change into leggings and a sweatshirt and curl up on your bed. You’re exhausted from a long week at work and planning your friend’s bachelorette party. You wish you’d told her bridal party only, but you adore her and it’s her special weekend so you’ll put in the extra work to wrangle fifteen women for a weekend in New Orleans. Five minutes, you tell yourself. You’ll start dinner in five minutes. But ten minutes later, you’re still curled up in the cozy nest of your comforter and after twenty minutes you start to wonder whether you can skip dinner altogether. Try again for breakfast in the morning.  

You’ve just resigned yourself to letting your stomach growl itself to sleep when you hear keys in the door, and Jake calls your name. You let him know that you’re in the bedroom. Your body aches, it’s so tired but just the sound of his voice has your heart rate stumbling over itself in excitement. Guess you’re cooking dinner after all. You bury a groan in your arm, but you’re already smiling. 

He’s still in uniform when he eases the door open. In uniform and holding a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers. Maybe you fell asleep. If you are, you’re already looking forward to seeing where this dream goes because those twinkling green eyes and dimples are really doing a number on you. 

Your brain catches up to the moment and you fly up. “Wait, what are the flowers for?” You can’t quite hide the pitch of panic in your voice that you’ve forgotten an important date. You have to put multiple alerts in your phone for anniversaries and birthdays and still sometimes they slip past you. 

“Oh, these?” He’s trying to sound off-handed, but he’s beaming at the excitement edging out your concern. “Just a pretty excuse to drop in on an absolutely stunning woman.” He lays them on the bed beside you because you’re already waiting for him on your knees. Jake runs his hands down your arms, his rough fingers skimming the sensitive undersides of your forearms and wrists as he lifts them around his shoulders and sidles closer. You’re practically nose to nose. “Also thought she might like something to eat,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “So I stopped and got her some dinner.”

“Such a simp,” you smile, still amused by his teenage cousin’s wry assessment of him after you met his family at Thanksgiving.   

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush to him. “And proud of it,” he brags before claiming your mouth. 

So when you’re scrolling through endless Etsy pages for your friend’s bachelorette party and come across a “Proud Simp” t-shirt, you giggle and immediately add it to your cart. You wrap it for him as beautifully as you wrap his birthday and Christmas gifts. You might be bad with dates, but you’re a wiz with some paper, ribbon, and a little tape. 

“What’s this for?” Jake asks when you go to his place to give it to him. You’re so excited to see his reaction that you nearly blurt it out. 

“Open it!” You rush him. 

But he notices how beautifully you’ve wrapped it and takes his time carefully trying to preserve your work, and it makes you want to shake him and kiss him all at once. 

You go all warm at the way his face lights up when he sees your inside joke in t-shirt form. Immediately, Jake strips off his black tee to put it on. But once you glimpse his muscled chest and the dark trail of hair from his pecs down into his low slung shorts, you decide he can also lose the shorts and everything under them for now. He’ll have plenty of time to wear your gift after he’s thoroughly thanked you for it. 

And thank you for it he does.

Jake wears it. A lot. At first you think it’s just around the house, but as he spends more and more time at your place you realize he wears it out too. To run errands, to football nights with his Dagger Squad buddies Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy despite their teasing, even to pick his cousin up from the airport when she comes to visit. 

Her latest assessment of him? “Please get help.”

You draw the line at him wearing it to his commanding officer’s cookout, which he pouts about until he’s distracted by your braless sundress with the spaghetti straps crossed in the back.

For Labor Day weekend, you fly to Texas to visit his family. He picks you up from the airport. When he gets out of the car to kiss you and load your bag into the trunk, you laugh at the t-shirt he’s wearing. It says ‘I’m Jake.” 

“Did you forget your name or something?” you ask, trying to figure out if he’s playing a prank on you. 

“You’ll see,” he promises, the lines around his eyes growing more prominent with his suppressed smile. 

There’s a tissue paper wrapped box on your seat when you get into the rental car. “This better not be a ring,” you blurt out, trying not to hyperventilate. It’s not that you don’t know at this point that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him. But your younger brother just got engaged, and you know your future sister-in-law would feel overshadowed if you took that step just now.

Before he drives away from the curb, Jake gently cups your chin and runs his thumb over your bottom lip to calm you down. “Sweetheart, I’ll wait as long as you want me to pop the question.” One of his mischievous smiles flip flops your heart, and you close your eyes as he kisses the scowl of concern from between your eyebrows. “Personally, I think this is better than a ring though.” 

That statement warns you what’s to come, but you’re still not prepared when you lift a t-shirt from the box. 

“If lost, return to Jake,” you read. You mouth the words, trying to put together what it means until you realize it’s the same color as the shirt he’s wearing. 

You feel the blood drain from your face. “No.”

“No what?” he chuckles, taking his eyes from the road for a moment to check your expression. He laughs even harder at what must be a look of horror on your face. 

“I’m not wearing this, Jake. The people who wear these carry AARP cards and have those help I’ve fallen and can’t get up buttons. I’m not even old enough to have a geriatric pregnancy! And if lost? When do I get lost?” 

“When you drive with the gps on mute,” he answers a little too quickly. Your face lets him know he’s made a big mistake. He adds even faster, “But I’ll never make you unmute the GPS because this proud simp loves it when you need him.”

Flashing you his biggest, most you-know-you-love-me grin, he reaches across the console and takes your left hand. His thumb strokes the place on your finger where an engagement ring will one day rest before placing a quick, but lingering kiss there. “C’mon sweetheart,” he says quietly, but you can hear the sudden weight of emotion in his voice. “I promised to wait to ask you to marry me, so how else am I supposed to let you know that I’m never going anywhere before I leave?”

This man really knows how to wreck you. He’s in Texas to say goodbye to his parents before he deploys until March. After growing up with your dad’s deployments, you swore you wouldn’t fall in love with a Navy man, but Jake had other plans for you. “Wear it with me please?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you agree, too choked up to say more. You know from experience crying before a goodbye only makes it harder. There will be plenty of time later to let his gift catch your tears. 

You put on the shirt before you get to his parents’ house because you know it will make his family laugh and that’s what you want to remember later too, the laughter. 

Arm slung over your shoulder, in your paired “I’m Jake” and “If lost return to Jake” shirts, he takes you to his favorite ice cream shop. You both laugh at the judgmental looks the teens and even some people your age give you. His cousin, Danny, insists she’s too embarrassed to be seen with you two. 

You wear the shirt to see him off and again when he gets home. And as soon as you’ve flown into his arms and kissed every inch of his handsome face (you’ll save the rest of him for later), he sets you down so he can show you that he’s wearing his too. You notice his shirt is as faded as yours from going through the wash so many times.

Gathering up his seabag, he hooks an arm around your shoulders to hold you close as you walk to the car. “I’m thinking it’s about time we sealed this relationship with something a little more durable than cotton,” he says. “What do you think?”

“I’m tired of people asking me where’s Jake,” you agree. “So yes.”