#she looked inside my oven ?? like oh have you cleaned your oven recently??

[hairtusk]

I have the actual worst luck on earth I am the most sopping wet and pathetic of all of god's poor little lambs

[w2soneshots]

Hey there can you please do something like y/n (also a YouTuber and she’s a very nice a sweet girl )y/n and Harry r dating and living together and Harry is doing one of those videos he does with Stephen,Chris and Will and maybe it’s just like she’s kind of in the background and cute little moments of her being in the video.

Lockdown -W2S

Words: 0.6k+

Warnings: none.

In which you and Harry spend an average day in lockdown together.

a/n: thank you so much for your request my love! I hope I did it justice💝🫶🏼

Liked by tobjizzle and 349,120 others

y/username: good morning🌅 @wroetoshaw

-comments-

freyanightingale: morning beautiful💞

-> y/username: 🫶

y/nfanpage21: you're both practically matching🥺

user81910592: what's Harry filming??

I've been with Harry for around a year. We got together just before January 2020, and when covid hit Harry asked if I'd move into his apartment with him. We spent all of the first lockdown together and became even closer, due to spending every day practicing trapped in his room. When September rolled around constrictions were being lifted but we were still spending a lot of time inside.

Harry, Chris, Will and Stephen have recently started doing group videos on YouTube. I've been in the background of lots of them but usually go into the living room (when Cal isn't doing something in there) and watch tv. Today they're filming "Ranking the top 10 YouTube videos of all time".

"I'm gonna start filming in a sec, are you gonna stay?" Harry asked, his keyboard clicking. "Mhm," I hummed "I'm just gonna put my AirPods in." I said. "Ok." He glanced at me with a smile. "Alright boys!" He said loudly to the computer, a few minutes later. After around ten minutes Harry said my name "y/n?" "Yea?" I said pushing myself up from the mattress to lean on my elbows. "Can you quickly react to this," he pointed to the screen "for the video?" He asked. I nodded "sure." I got up from the bed and Harry moved his chair back so I could sit on his lap. "Here." He said passing me his headset. I put it on and immediately the boys said hello.

I reacted to the video with a loud laugh as I leaned back into Harry. Then I said a quick goodbye and passed the headphones back to Harry. I sat back down on the bed while Harry finished the video, which seemed to be taking a lifetime.

Once he was finally done he plopped down on the bed. I took my earphones out and smiled at him. He smiled back "I'm gonna get in the shower, wanna join?" I raised my eyebrows then giggled "yes, yes I do." I said and we both got up off the bed. As we stepped into his bathroom we stripped our clothes off.

After we finished "showering" we dried ourselves off, got changed and headed into the kitchen to get some dinner. "You alright there Cal?" I asked the man stood looking at the oven with a confused look on his face. He looked toward both me and Harry "uh- yea, I just can't figure out how to turn this on." He said. I laughed "you've been in this apartment for over a year and you still can't turn the oven on?" "I haven't needed to use it, we've got an air fryer ya know!" He exclaimed. Harry chuckled "just press," he stepped forward to point to one of the buttons "that one mate." He said. Freezy nodded "oh, thanks."

Cal took his food to his room and me and Harry began making some simple, quick spaghetti bolognaise. "Mmm, this is just what I needed." I said taking another bite of the pasta. "Yea, this is bangin." He said with a quiet hum of satisfaction.

We cleaned up and headed back to Harry's room. We sat on the bed and Harry began scrolling through his phone while I tried to decide what movie I wanted to watch on his large tv. Harry hates anything that isn't a documentary or based on a true story, he thinks it's pointless watching fiction because you don't actually learn anything. Which I understand so usually while I watch something Harry will sit with me, but doesn't actually pay any attention.

I lay with my head leaning comfortably on Harry's chest, our legs slightly intertwined and his arm wrapped tightly around me. Just before the movie finished I drifted off into a deep sleep, lulled by the sound of Harry's heartbeat and the calming sound of his breathing.

[gottawritesomething]

Cry 'Havoc!'

Chapter 3 of Pride cometh before the fall (Gale FIC) (3/?)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 4.5, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

Isabel breaks into Gale's Tower for tea, that's it. Send Tweet.

TW: Allusion to Mystra

Wizards of the Coast and I are nemeses, so there is a lot of non-5e-compliant magic stuff

________________________________________________________

"“I cannot believe her. How dare she? She, she…ugh!” Gale threw up his hands. 

“Not to state the obvious, but this is what happens when you invite a stranger to your home,” Tara replied simply. At this point, Gale couldn’t help but feel she was right. What did this girl think she was doing?

________________________________________________________

The day of tea arrived faster than either Gale or Isabel had expected. Gale, for his part had made a valiant effort in cleaning the tower; the selected rooms almost looked like a conventional place someone might visit. The morning of, he’d decided to concentrate his attention on the food for the afternoon. Tara lazily watched him from her perch on a kitchen shelf as he bustled back and forth between the pantry and the oven. 

“Forgive an old tressym for prying further, Mr. Dekarios, but this does seem like an awful lot of effort for an acquaintance. I know you do like to put your best paw or, in your case foot forward on impressions, but certainly, this woman must already know of you and your many talents. Why such a fuss?” 

“I think you mean why such a fuzz, Tara.” Gale retorts, his head inside the oven. 

“I certainly do not!” Tara looked peeved. “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you’d made a friend. A proper mortal friend.”

Gale smiled knowingly; Tara had been particularly insistent about him branching out recently. The more time he spent in Mystra’s presence, the less in-common he felt he had with the mortals going about their day-to-day. 

“I don’t know if I’d describe her as proper…And I have only just met her; I will remind you.” Gale had returned to his erratic darting about. 

“All the same, I am thrilled for you. Furthermore, we’ll get to see her magical prowess on full display today.” Tara looked strangely smug

“What are you referring to Tara?” Gale asked suspiciously

“Oh, I assumed you’d intentionally left the tower wards in place.”

Gale’s face drained “Why didn’t you say something? What time is it? What if I don’t have time to disarm them? Tara!” 

“If she is timely, she should be arriving shortly,” Tara said, licking her paw absent-mindedly.

~

Isabel had found the tower with relative ease. Though ‘tower’ seemed to be a bit of a misnomer, it looked more like a very tall townhouse. Though the location was lovely, right along the water facing the ports. As she neared the base of the building, she noted a glowing purple figure next to the entry door. 

“Good afternoon, Gale of Waterdeep would like to welcome you to his illustrious home. He greatly regrets being unable to greet you in person, but I can assure you he will come to fetch you shortly once he’s contended with a minor predicament.” The Project Image of Gale remarks cheerfully. 

“May I ask what the predicament involves?” Isabel knew she was overstepping, but curiosity had gotten the better of her. As it often did. 

“Suffice to say there were some ‘barriers’ to making the tower a more welcoming place for visitors.” 

At that point, Isabel didn’t need much more information but decided to push further to confirm her suspicions. 

“Did he leave the protection wards in place on the tower?” she asked.

The projection looked at her warily. 

“At this time, Gale of Waterdeep is ensuring you have a safe and enjoyable visit.”

“While that is extremely thoughtful of him, tell him to leave them in place. I will find my own way into the tower.” Isabel knew she was being impertinent, and she also knew that Gale could see and hear through this projection as though he was standing beside her. 

The smile on the project had become strained. “I must strongly advise against this course of action. The protections placed on this tower were hand-crafted by Gale of Waterdeep, Waterdeep’s foremost archmage. Any attempts to breach the tower will be met by your inevitable failure and possible harm. Please wait here for Gale.”

“I appreciate the forewarning, and IF I fail, he’s most welcome to sweep in to save me.” Isabel gave her most charming smile and turned on her heels. 

“Again, I must insist -” The project started; Isabel waved her hand coating the figure in darkness. 

~

“I cannot believe her. How dare she? She, she…ugh!” Gale threw up his hands. 

“Not to state the obvious, but this is what happens when you invite a stranger to your home,” Tara replied simply. At this point, Gale couldn’t help but feel she was right. What did this girl think she was doing? He’d thought she contained many traits but blatant stupidity was not one he’d noted. He knew, as he’d thought she did, that however talented she was, they were not matched in ability. Attempts to break his warding could cause her harm, if not worse, for some of the more complex ones. She’d blinded his Project Image, so she was at least clever enough to know the spell allowed him to see her. But some spell trivia was not going to save her. No, that would have to be him.

He stood up from the table where the tea had been carefully laid out. And stalked to the window, glancing out, hoping to see her walking away from the tower if good sense had won out. He blew air from his nose, frustrated. He’d find her, probably a step or two past his door, and send her promptly on her way. He cursed himself for being so trusting. Mortals did like to test their luck. 

Behind him, the scones in the oven began to burn.

~

Isabel did in fact, know that there was no way she could break the wards Gale had put in place. She had instead decided to rely on what had gotten her through school with wizards. Creativity, an encyclopedic knowledge of spells after-effects, and most importantly, a considerable understanding of how wizards thought. It wasn’t their fault, she reasoned. Their casting necessitated linear procedures and clear rules. As a result, they tended to assume others would approach problems and solutions as linearly as they applied them. She suspected that were that ever to change en masse, rogues might be out of the job. 

She stretched, checked the darkness was still covering the projection and began to wander around the bottom of the tower. First, she had to pinpoint where the kitchen was most likely to be. He likely had wards against teleporting, mist, and phasing, she’d reasoned, so those were out. As she gazed up at the tower, she noted a window near the top that appeared to have steam or smoke rising out of it. She cast fly and took off towards the window, hoping very much for her sake that it was not laboratory smoke. As she grew nearer, she hugged the wall as close as she could, not wanting to be spotted, and recognized the smell of burning pastries. Excellent. 

She had surmised that, like most, wizards expected attempts to breach their towers to come from the entry or the roof. As such, most wards would be oriented in such a way to reflect that mindset. Additionally, (she very much hoped) they had been calibrated on the direct impact of a spell. The appearance after a teleport spell, the mist form solidifying, etc. Cast, result. Most wards she’d encountered focused on those two steps. She was angling exclusively for the third step, resolution.  

~

Gale had sent out Tara and an Scrying Eye to look for Isabel when he hadn’t immediately found her in the entryway. He still maintained hope that she’d perhaps given up and gone home. He was stewing in self-pity when he heard a great grinding noise coming from his kitchen wall. He swung his head, seeing the edges of a corridor attempting to open up in the side of his tower. 

“Did you honestly think I didn’t ward against a Passwall?” Gale shouted through the layer of wall still remaining. 

“I was positive you had, actually.” He heard a muffled response. He considered peeling away the ward that was preventing the wall from fully opening, but the embarrassment he’d suffered was already too grievous. Gale was feeling exceedingly vindicated, with just a touch of relief that she’d not been skewered on a trap below.

“So shall we have tea through 3 feet of stone for the next hour until the spell fades?” He asked smugly. Again, a muffled shouted response. 

“No need; I’ll be with you shortly!” With that, Gale watched the edges of the corridor fade, marking the dissolution of the spell. She’d given up. As Gale had suspected, she would. He stood, leaned out the window to call to Tara, and turned back to the wall. Where Isabel now stood leaned against it. 

“That is not possible,” Gale said incredulously.

“Not to argue, but clearly, it is as I am here.” Isabel was clearly at war with herself as her smugness seeped through her attempt to placate him with a smile. 

Gale strode forward. Was this an illusionary copy of herself? Had the corridor been an illusion?

If he had not been so incensed, he might have noted that the woman looked vastly more put together. Her copper curls pulled slightly back, framing her face; she’d traded her plain black serving robe for a deep green velvet robe corsetted with brown leather. He might have allowed himself to notice those things if he wasn’t containing his fuming. 

“How?” He asked simply; other words may have been harsher than he’d liked. 

Isabel’s eyes betrayed she’d realized she’d pushed him too far. 

“When the passwall spell resolves, it was designed to prevent people from being caught inside the generated tunnel. So it deposits them to the nearest safe surface. I had also ended my fly spell, so outside the tower would have sent me plummeting down, so as far as the spell was considered, inside was the safest place it could place me.” She carefully explained. 

Gale was impressed. He didn’t particularly want to be. But as he considered her plan's mechanics, he felt the anger slowly draining away. He wondered if he would have thought of such an approach. He breathed out slowly, letting the tension slide from his shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Isabel mirror his relaxation. 

He allowed an uneasy smile to return to his face. 

“That was an unorthodox approach, but you did manage to gain entry. However, I must insist in the future, if I ask something of you, know it is for your safety and not my vanity, and please comply.”

She looked down at her robes, brushing them off. She nervously met his eyes again. 

“That seems like a fair request. I apologize.”

Gale gestured to the seat across from him. Isabel strode across the room and took the place indicated. 

~

Isabel still felt a bit like she was buzzing. She knew that sometimes she pushed the boundaries of rules or flaunted authority, but she rarely felt poorly about doing so. She liked to think she often did it to prove a point, highlight a hypocrisy, and only occasionally to prove she could. But she felt genuinely terrible. He’d invited her to his home, and she’d immediately beset him. She was somewhat shocked that he’d allowed her to stay. They had been chatting for a few minutes about her time in Waterdeep and his time at Blackstaff, and the anger seemed to have faded. Her nervousness, however, had not. She glanced around the kitchen, which was gorgeous and well-stocked. Dark cabinets lined the walls, and a lovely brick oven warmed the room. The smell of the burnt scones (which Gale had apologized profusely for) had faded leaving a woody, old library smell. She suspected he might have a few in this tower. As she turned back to him, she heard a soft rustling from the window. And glanced over. 

She’d heard of tressyms before but had never gotten the privilege of seeing one in person. Isabel rose to her feet careful as to not startle it. She assumed it was Gale’s familiar but despaired at her lack of knowledge on Tressymspeak. She knew the tressym would be able to understand her but they could not converse. Carefully she bowed to the cat perched on the window. 

“Ah yes, Tara this is Isabel, and though I am sure she appreciates the notion there is no need to bow.” Gale chirped cheerfully

“I showing deference to the owner of the tower.” Isabel whispered, testing the waters on teasing. 

“Hmph, it appears she hasn’t died. So that is an improvement over what I expected.” Tara said, eyes narrowing. 

Isabel took a step back startled, she didn’t think tressyms could speak common. 

“Don’t be surprised dear. Some of us, are capable at conveying our intentions and communicating properly. Present company excluded.” Tara mimed a swat at her. 

At this, Isabel looked properly ashamed. Meanwhile, Gale looked pleased that Tara could scold even this tempestuous influence of a person. 

The rest of the lunch continued enjoyably, Gale confessed to some of his wilder days at Blackstaff as Isabel relayed incidents of Wild Magic gone awry. She’d gotten a hearty laugh from Gale by describing an unfortunately timed surge at a friend's wedding resulting in a displaced best man and an invisible ring bearer. 

Gale had gone on to describe his connection to the Weave. That there was nothing else in the world he could ever imagine himself doing. That it consumed his every waking thought and motivation. That every form of art paled in comparison, that at any given moment he could feel the essence of the arcane whispering in the breeze. At that point, he’d looked expectantly to Isabel. 

“I understand you cast with the Weave so you must be familiar. But does Wild Magic feel the same?”

There was such a shine to his eyes that Isabel couldn’t bring herself to dampen his perception of her relationship with the Weave. In truth, she had extreme respect for the Weave as a structure and infrastructure of which magic could be accessed but she’d prefer a physical painting to a conjured one. And Wild Magic was nothing like the Weave. 

“I think the clearest explanation I’ve seen is Wild Magic feels like standing in the center of a raging river. Everything moves fast and with such power, your focus is always on preventing being swept away. Everything around you changes with the rapidity of the current, there are no landmarks to commit to memory, no rocks to cling to.” Isabel began.

“Fascinating. I’ve read that particularly skilled Sorcerers can harness Wild Magic in a manner of speaking.“ Gale prompted her, seeking more details. His enthusiasm was incurably contagious. Isabel felt a smile forming as she leaned in to match his energy. 

“It requires extreme self-knowledge and trust in your ability while knowing your limits. You’re never going to shift the current but you know how to angle yourself to impact the flow downstream. Not getting bowled downstream alone takes a strong sense of identity and an unwillingness to lose yourself.” 

Gale leaned back in his chair musing. 

“For myself, the Weave acts as a brush dancing upon the canvas, a concert between the corporeal and the ineffable, unreplicable in feeling no matter the consistency of the result.”

“If you’re not a wizard what is your occupation then Isabel?” Tara interrupted, and both Gale and Isabel turned to look at her.

“Oh, I am… an Archeologist. Of sorts…”

“Mhm, and you don’t live in Waterdeep? Where do you call home then?” Isabel knew an interrogation when she saw one. 

“I tend to travel, I seldom stay in one place for long. My research tends to be fairly hands-on, so I go where I am needed. I actually procured a Pradler's Portable Room rather than continuing to maintain housing in all the cities I visit.” She offered. Pulling a large gold key from her robes. 

“If I recall you simply place a tiny doorway down and use the key to grow it to full size. Then unlock a door into a demi-plane. Am I correct? I’d considered an attempt to create one for traveling. You must give me a tour on your return to Waterdeep.” Gale’s eyes glistened. Isabel smiled encouragingly at him. With a start, she realized how late in the day it had become. She rose from the table.

“Speaking of visits, this was a lovely one but I’m afraid I must prepare for my departure tomorrow.” As she prepared herself to depart, words began to tumble from Gale’s mouth in rapid succession. 

“Of course, apologies for keeping you. Though I insist if you would be interested in a full-time position in Waterdeep, I would be happy to assist you. Perhaps another teaching position at Blackstaff? The curator at the Piergeiron Museum owes me quite a favor, I could introduce you. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a spell exhibition by the Sorcerer at The Field of Triumph perhaps they’d be interested in your talents.” He took a quick breath in. “Regardless, feel free to alert me when you’re next in town.” His tone had smoothed out returning to it’s normal cadence. Tara perched on his shoulders as they led her to the entry. 

“And here is the landing which you miraculously missed visiting.” Gale smiled cheekily. Isabel shook her head.

“Thank you for tea. Good evening to you both.” As the door swung shut Isabel heard a whispered indignation from Tara. 

“Did you think to mention she was a beautiful, this ‘friend’ of yours?”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Gale whispered back. With that, Isabel took off into the night.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, (Next Chapter)>Chapter 4, Chapter 4.5, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

[noellawrites]

It’s Always Been You - Moody Spurgeon x reader

synopsis: your father wants you to marry Gilbert, but you only have eyes for Moody

“How about that nice Gilbert boy? Have you spoken to each other recently? You know he is set for life, with being in possession of his father’s house and becoming a doctor and all,” your father asked as you set the table for breakfast.

“Father, Gilbert is simply my friend! I couldn’t see him in a romantic way. Plus, Anne is practically infatuated with him,” you explained.

Your father nodded apprehensively as he took a seat at the table. You grabbed the skillet with eggs and felt the warmth even through the oven mitt. That was how your insides felt whenever you were near Moody Spurgeon.

You had kept your crush on Moody a secret from your parents since you began falling for him. You didn’t want them to get any silly ideas and you certainly didn’t want them to disapprove of him because he wasn't rich. You wanted to find love on your own terms.

You lifted your baby brother out of his cradle and set him in his bench at the table. At sixteen months old, he was simply the most adorable and squishy baby.

“Breakfast is ready!” you yelled upstairs, where your mother was helping your little sister dress in her day clothes.

Your younger sister ran down the stairs followed by your mother. Your sister squealed as she sat down at the table. “Sissy made breakfast! Sissy made breakfast!”

“She sure is doing a splendid job learning to cook, isn’t she? In a few years, she’ll be ready for marriage!” your mother grinned, making eye contact with your father. Good grief.

-

Your walk to school alone was uneventful and pleasant. You never could get over the beauty of Prince Edward Island. Even though your secret dream was to attend college, you still hoped you’d return here later. Maybe you could be a schoolteacher like Miss Stacy. You thought you’d enjoy that.

The bird’s whistles in the treetops above caught your ears and the music put a smile on your face. It was late fall, and the leaves crunched under your toes like freshly-washed lettuce.

As you approached the schoolhouse, you noticed that all of your classmates were gathered around the side of one of the wooden walls.

As you began to nudge your way through, everyone stepped away from the board. There was one single note:

“Gilbert escorts (y/n) home every day.”

You swung around angrily. “Who did this!?” you yelled, staring into the eyes of your classmates as you accused them. Gilbert was nowhere to be seen, so you stomped away as your classmates began to snicker.

You threw the door to the schoolhouse closed behind you. Gilbert was the only one inside, not even Miss Stacy had arrived yet.

“Gilbert, what in the lord’s name did you put on that stupid board?”

“(Y/n), I’ve been meaning to ask you if—“

“Are you seriously about to court me? Gilbert, you’re just a friend and I don’t love you. I’m sorry.”

“It just crossed my mind when your father spoke to me. We have been alone together many times, and it isn’t customary to do so unless we are courting,” he shrugged.

“Gilbert, you know that’s a stupid rule. And when did you speak with my father?”

“He came to me while I was cleaning the house one day. Said he thought I was a fine young man and wondered if I was thinking about marrying you. He tried to persuade me into asking for your hand in marriage, but—“

“Oh lord, I think I’m going to be sick,” you moaned. Gilbert reached for you, but you shoved him hard and ran out of the schoolhouse.

You ran in the opposite way from where your house was, towards the forest and away from your classmates.

Tears flew from your eyes and your braids whipped at your neck, but you kept going.

You reached the end of the clearing and collapsed in the brush below the trees, sobbing and heaving. You couldn’t even worry about not looking pretty, you were so anguished by what your parents did to you. What they tried to do to you.

You felt even more sick thinking about how you already take care of your siblings. It wouldn’t be long before you would be expected to raise your own children. Especially with Gilbert Blythe, whom your parents tried to pawn you off on.

“(y/n), is that you? Are you okay?” Moody said as he emerged from the forest path he walked through every day on his way to school.

“N-no,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes on the sleeve of your dress.

Moody sat down on the grass next to you, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket.

“M-my father is trying to marry me off t-to Gilbert,” you said, sobbing harder.

Moody opened his arms to you, and you leaned in.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I-if I could something I would. But I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want me to court you,” he explained, rubbing your back gently.

“Moody, I have been in love with you for months and if you couldn’t see that, you must be blind!” you cried, tears streaming down your face.

“Y-you love me back?”

“You love me too?”

“Would you like to court me?”

“Moody, I would love to! I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else,” you explained, looking up into his beautiful eyes.

“I know it’s not very traditional but I would really love to kiss you right now,” Moody mumbled.

“Oh just kiss me already!” you laughed, leaning up to meet his lips.

[xoxo-teddybear]

The Talk - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader // ft. Bakugou’s daughter

Warnings: Crack, Fluff, Cursing, Sexual Mentions

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Summary: Katsumi has recently turned 8 and Bakugou thinks it’s time for her to receive the talk and tries to get Y/N to give it to her, however Bakugou finds himself doing the deed instead.

“Katsuki! Go!”

“No I just-“

“You have to-“

“But I don’t-“

“AH AH AH JUST GO!”

“nooOOO!!”

Bakugou and Y/N both spoke over each other saying those things until eventually Y/N pushed Bakugou into the room and barricaded the door to keep him inside. On the inside, Bakugou slammed his fist against the door demanding to be released.

“Y/N Bakugou! Open this door right now!” He screamed from the other side.

“Sure thing dAD,” she said dramatically, “after you do what you gotta do!”

“It’s DAD-DY TO YOU!” He screamed again. “LET ME OUT!”

“Suki! This was your idea!” You explained from the outside.

“Yeah but we’re a team! I thought we would be doing this together!” He said.

“Yeah well I didn’t wanna do it and since you insisted so bad that this just had to happen, you can do the deed!” You argued from the other side of the door.

“Y/N! You can’t keep me in here with that..that DEMON!” He screamed.

“Daddy?” Bakugou flinched as he quickly turned around with his back pressed against the door. He shook in fear as his smile trembled and his eye twitched as he looked at that thing on the floor. It was sitting in the chair holding a cup of hibiscuses tea while it wore a pink boa and tiara. It had an orange boa ready to go with an extra tiara on the other seat for the tea party that was currently happening in the girly princess styled bedroom.

“Yes princess?” He said to his eight year old daughter as she looked at him with a waiting stare. And yes we referred to her as ‘it’ before.

“You said you would join me for my tea party to give me the talk about something. What was it?” Katsumi said. Bakugou gulped in fear as he watched his daughter gesture to the empty seat. Bakugou slowly walked to the tiny chair and sat as his knees scrunched up to his chest. He cleared his throat as he put on the boa and tiara and looked around to see he was seated next to Mr. HoneyBear and Madam Unicorn. Katsumi poured him a cup of tea and he picked up the tiny ceramic, that was much too small for his large hands, until he heard his daughter clear her throat.

“Ehem,” she said. Bakugou stared and watched as she picked up her cup and stuck out her pinkie. His mouth formed an ‘o’ as he mimicked her actions and carefully took a sip. He placed the cup down as he placed his hands on his knees, making a small rhythm as he was nervous and didn’t know how to begin.

“Okay daddy! What did you wanna tell me?” She squealed. Bakugou looked around in nervousness. He didn’t even know how to begin the talk.

“Okay! Um...well. You see Katsumi..you are old enough to finally know where...umm...how...eh,” Bakugou stumbled over his words until Y/N poked her head in to help.

“Where babies come from,” she whispered and then shut the door again. Bakugou growled as he looked at the door.

“If you’re so good at this why don’t you come in here?!” He whispered yelled.

“Because you’re the one that wanted this to happen!” She whispered yelled back through the door.

“Coward!” Bakugou seethed. Y/N then opened the door again to give her two cents.

“Nice boa and tiara, PRinCeSS,” you teased. Bakugou threw one of the cookies on the plate at the door and it was going to hit you but you shut it before it could. Bakugou settled in his seat and tossed his boa to wrap around his neck and readjusted his tiara.

“Right Katsumi, it’s time for you to know where babies come from,” he explained to the eight year old. She stared at him with a raised brow as she sipped from her cup.

“You and Mommy already told me, remember? You guys said the storks bring down the babies!” She explained. Bakugou cringed at the memory of the time he almost slipped up and practically explained sex to his daughter when she was only 5. Luckily, Y/N saved his ass with the stork story.

“Right, but the storks just bring the babies..they don’t...create them,” he said.

“Oh! So then who creates them?” She innocently asked with the same doe eyes her mother had. Bakugou bit his lip in nervousness as he began to tremble again.

“Well you see...when two people..um, love each other..very....much....they Umm...at a certain time they’ll...” Katsumi began to get a little bored and yawned. Katsuki watched and just decided to rip the band-aid right off. He slammed his hands on his thighs as he spoke.

“You know what! Forget this! Katsumi! When a man loves a women, they’ll....” Bakugou trailed off as he realized exactly what he had to say. He stood up and put himself in the corner as he sat on the ground with his knees crunched up to his chest again.

“Daddy, just tell me! I’m getting bored and the tea is getting cold!” Katsumi whined. Bakugou sighed out as he returned to his seat.

“Katsumi, listen,” he exhaled before he began, “a man has this thing called a penis,” he cringed at his words, “and you know that a woman, like yourself, has a what?”

“A vagina. You and Mommy taught me the big girl words so that if something bad were to happen, I can properly explain and get help without confusing anyone. It’s part of my no-no square.” She said while casually messing with her toys.

“Right..and uh...your no-no square can only be touched by...uhm...your doctors with permission and..uh, in the far future, the one you love.” He explained.

“Like you and Mommy?” She asked.

“Uh..no..well..not really. Only in certain cases but you can trust that me and Mommy will never hurt you,” Bakugou said.

“I trust that! But what do you mean ‘love’ then?” Katsumi once again questioned.

“Well..love..as in like a boyfriend or a husband-“

“Or a prince?” Katsumi excitedly asked.

“....uh..sure?” Bakugou said, “but eventually..you and your...prince, OR PRINCESS OR ROYAL MAJESTY.. whatever you’re into, will eventually want to experience...something called..uh..sexual interco-“

*DING!*

“Whats that?” Bakugou asked as he pointed towards the timer.

“My brownies are ready!” Katsumi said and excitedly got up to get her desserts. Bakugou raised his brow in question as he didn’t realize his daughter could bake.

“Brownies?” He questioned.

“Mhm! I made them in my easy bake oven!” She said as she brought the tiny tray containing six mini brownies over to the table. “Try one!”

Bakugou looked at the tray and saw burnt pieces and he’s pretty sure he saw a bubble on one of the slimy brownies pop. He silently and subtly gagged but covered it up with a cough. He cleared his throat before he used a shaky hand to pick one up.

“And what’s the number we use to call in emergencies?” Bakugou asked.

“1-1-0,” Katsumi said.

“Good girl,” he said and took a small bite into the brownie. He chewed and bit into some hard, crunchy pieces but felt something else running down his throat. “Umm..Katsumi, Princess-“

“You like it? I tried really hard because I know you’re a great chef Daddy!” She happily explained. Bakugou couldn’t hate on his little girl’s brownies so he just had to ask a few questions.

“They’re Umm..delicious! A little burnt but it’s still very....very...good? But uh..what did you put in these?” He cautiously asked as he continued to chew.

“Brownie batter, duh, and sequence, rhinestones, and just a pinch of glitter!”

“HAH!” Y/N laughed from the other side of the door.

In the middle of Katsumi’s explanation, Bakugou swallowed the piece of brownie and began choking, he tried to get his cup of tea to wash it down but it was too tiny to do any good. Katsumi just watched in confusion as her father choked and sat down as she sipped her own cup of tea with a confused and almost sarcastic face. Bakugou lifted the tea pot and attempted to drink out of it but saw it was empty. He ran to his daughter’s door and tried to open it but Y/N still had it blocked. He blasted it open with his quirk and Katsumi just laughed at the scene with her hand covering her mouth and Y/N stood infront of the doorway in shock.

“Katsuki!” She yelled at her husband for breaking the door but he only ran down to the kitchen sink and turned on the faucet as he jugged down the flow of water. He finally stopped choking and after he finished his symphony of coughs, he flopped onto the couch.

Back with Y/N and Katsumi:

“Hang on love, just enjoy your tea and then wait here. Mommy will be right back.” Y/N said and then ran downstairs. She found her husband face down on the couch and laughed at him.

“Umm.. Katsuki..are you, pfft..okay?” You laughed out. Bakugou just poked his head up to glare at his wife and flopped his head back down on the couch.

“She can wait a few years for the talk. I’m pretty sure the universe just gave me a big fat fucking hint at that.” He grumbled into the couch.

“Hehe..I told you so~” Y/N said in a sing-songy voice.

“I tOLd YoU sOoo- SHUT UP!” Bakugou complained. Y/N just continued to laugh at her husband’s whine and just rubbed at his back to comfort his pain.

—

After cleaning up the mess Katsuki made at Katsumi’s door and helping her daughter wash up, Y/N finally put Katsumi to bed and met her husband down stairs. He was still on the couch but this time he was sitting while watching some random channel on TV. He noticed Y/N and opened up his arms for her. Y/N joined him on the couch but laughed a little as she cuddled into his side.

“Umm..Suki?”

“Yes love?”

“When are you gonna take off that boa and tiara?”

[drowsy-writer]

I Can't Stop— regulus black x reader

Summary: An unmovable object vs. an unstoppable force (aka Reader tries to get Regulus to bed) 

Warning:  cursing, angst, bittersweet fluff, crying

Notes: Reader has she/her pronouns and is a Hufflepuff; this can also be read as either romantic or platonic also yes I sometimes face claim regulus as Benjamin Wadsworth pls don’t @ me i’m new here lol

Hogwarts 1975

Every Hufflepuff knows that when 10:00 hits, the kitchen goes silent. No pots boil, no ovens switch on―without the house elves, the place is as silent as the library on a good day. The alluring scents of the day’s meals would linger in the air, hitting the face of every Hufflepuff who entered eager to make it to their common room and call it a night.

Tonight the smells of roasted chicken and creamy beef stew were replaced with the stingy aroma of coffee as two students sat at the end of the kitchen’s massive table, books spread out amongst themselves. Two gigantic porcelain mugs were placed within arms reach and a fresh pot of coffee sat between them.

“Find anything yet?” the Hufflepuff asked. Her [h/c] curls bounced slightly as she looked up from her piece of parchment, observing the pale Slytherin boy across from her scrunch his brows.

“No,” Regulus shut another book and tossed it on top of the stack next to him. He reached over to his mug, which embarrassingly had an orange flat-faced kitten painted on it, and downed its remaining contents. He then slammed the mug on the table and ran both of his fingers through his short ebony locks,” nothing. Yet.”

“House elves are bound to wake up soon,” [Y/N] mused. She cocked her head towards the tiny door sitting next to the fireplace,” maybe we should call it a night.”

Regulus groaned as he reached for the pot of coffee and poured himself another cup. The pot shook a bit as Regulus poured it, the bags underneath his eyes growing darker. [Y/N] looked at her friend and sighed.

“We’ve gone through almost the whole library, Reggie,” [Y/N] said. Regulus took a quick swig of his refilled cup of coffee and cracked open another book,” look! That’s even the same book you opened last night. Cover and all!”

“Nope,” Regulus held up the book and tapped his pale finger on the cover where it read Volume 2. It was [Y/N]’s time to groan as she took her own mug, this one with a silly looking dog on it, and sipped at the now cold contents. Her face scrunched up as she placed the mug down,” Zatara might’ve been a loon, but he was Bullock’s assistant. He probably hid something in here so Dumbledore or anyone else couldn’t find and burn it..” 

“What makes you think that Volume 2 is gonna have something when the first one didn’t?” [Y/N] had got up from her chair, cold cup of coffee in hand, and dumped it down the drain of the sink behind her. She turned the faucet on, rinsing out the mug and gently putting it back on the drying rack. When [Y/N] spun around, she was met by Regulus’s signature scowl,” don’t get your knickers in a twist. You know I’m right. I’m always right with these sorts of things.”

“I know,” Regulus hissed. He looked back down at the book,” but right now, I’m hoping you’re wrong.”

[Y/N] huffed as she sat back down on her chair again. A small yawn escaped her lips but she knew it’d be a while until Regulus decided to pack his stuff and leave. This was the case every night since 2nd year where Regulus and [Y/N] would stay up right before the elves came back in to prep for breakfast, reading and discussing topics both school related and pure nonsense. Neither knew how this little tradition started and, quite frankly, neither cared. It was a breath of fresh air for [Y/N] and a sense of normalcy Regulus craved for within his ever turbulent life. 

As of recently, however, their midnight meetings were overwhelmed with a sense of dread. It had been months since Regulus had properly been exposed to the world of the Death Eaters and of Lord Voldemort, courtesy of his mother. From then on, he had been put into an almost inescapable hole, one that he was intent of crawling out of. Regulus might've not had the luxury of running away like his brother, but he sure as hell wasn't going to give in without a fight.

“So if I am wrong, what’s gonna happen next?” [Y/N] asked.

Regulus quirked a brow as he stopped reading the passage he was on. Not even bothering to look up, Regulus clicked his tongue in thought. He then, to [Y/N]’s annoyance, shrugged his shoulders and continued to read.

“I don’t know. Haven’t thought that far yet.”

“What do you mean you haven’t thought that far yet? We’ve been looking into Horcruxes for the past three months and you haven’t the clue as to what you’ll do next?!”

“Something like that.”

“You're so—,” [Y/N] let out a muffled scream as she buried her head in her hands,” you're insufferable, you know that? Why am I even friends with you?”

“Haven't thought that far yet either,” Regulus smirked. 

“Very funny, Reggie. Now c’mon,” [Y/N] motioned towards the stack of books,” let’s stash these away. We’ve got a Potions exam tomorrow morning, remember?”

“Yes, I remember.”

Regulus didn’t make an effort to get up and continued to read through the book. As Regulus flipped through another page, [Y/N] muttered underneath her breath as she jumped down from her seat and walked over to the Slytherin’s side.

“Alright. That’s it.”

Before Regulus could make sense as to what was happening, [Y/N] wrapped her hands around his waist and hoisted him up from the seat.

“[Y/N]?!” Regulus sputtered, dropping the book from his hands,” let me go!”

“Oh shut it, Black! You need to get some sleep!”

Still in her arms, Regulus tensed as their bodies pressed against one another. He cursed himself underneath his breath as his face flushed red.

“Just put me down. Now.”

“No.”

“[Y/N]—!”

[Y/N] tightened her grip as Regulus squirmed within her hold. She dragged him from his chair to the middle of the kitchen where he finally pushed himself off.

“What the hell was that for?”

“You need to sleep, Regulus! You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends. You’ll fall back if you keep doing this.”

“Well what else am I supposed to do, then? Run away from my problems like my brother? Ignore them? I can’t just turn away from my family and pretend nothing ever happened!” Regulus shouted. His breathing turned ragged, as if he just finished yet another Quidditch match, “what would you expect for me to do?”

“I—I don’t know! I don’t have the answers for everything!” [Y/N] retorted. Regulus groaned as he turned around, intent on picking up where he left off in his book,” but I do know that when the time comes, whatever remnants of a plan you do have, you’ll be too exhausted to do anything about it!”

Regulus stopped in his step as he stared at the rack of spices before him, afraid of meeting his friend’s eyes. He took a deep breath, composed himself, and turned around. His eyes had yet to meet [Y/N]’s as they shifted throughout the room.

“Why are you—ugh,” Regulus sighed as he ran his hands through his hair,” I just—this is how I work, [Y/N]. You’ve known it since 2nd year. Even when I stop, I can’t stop. When I go to sleep at night, my mind is still racing with all this bullshit about purebloods and Muggles and—.”

“But you can’t just—.”

“—And the fucking potions test you won’t stop telling me about! There’s so many things in my mind that I think Bellatrix’s head looks healthy compared to mine! I can’t stop thinking about my family, my house, even Sirius for Godric’s sake! I can’t stop worrying that if I were to put a pause for even a sliver of a second, everything I’ll ever love will cease to exist. I can’t risk that [Y/N]. Not for a second. Not when I have so much on the line.”

[Y/N] looked down at the floor as her friend’s words ran rapid through her head. She touched her forehead with the palm of her hand, dragging them down until they met the bridge of her nose. 

“Fucking—I know that, Regulus. I just—,” [Y/N] gave a pained expression as she pinched the bridge of her nose,”—fuck! I just want you to be okay, ok? You’re my friend. My best friend, actually. It hurts like hell because there’s nothing I can do about it. I can get you as many books as you want, sneak out around the castle as much as you want, lie to as many people as you want , but I can’t—no. I won’t stand here and watch you whittle away. Not when I can do something to prevent it.”

Regulus swallowed hard as his eyes met [Y/N]’s and the pit that had been growing inside his chest began to increase, pushing painfully against his rips. He felt his lungs constrict and if Regulus didn’t know any better, he’d say someone casted a Crucio curse on him and it was slowly ripping his body from the inside out.

“I just can’t let him win, [Y/N],” Regulus mumbled. He leaned back on the table and pressed both hands to his face, rubbing at his eyes as tears began to build up in the corners,” I can’t let that thing win, no matter what.”

Shielding his face from [Y/N], Regulus quietly sobbed as his friend stood in front of him, tears threatening to pour out from her eyes as well. Taking a deep, shaky breath, [Y/N] slowly walked towards her friend and gently wrapped her arms around him. Despite the slight size difference, [Y/N] was able to situate her friend so that his face was buried in the crook of her neck. She combed a hand through his inky, black locks.

“I know won’t,” [Y/N] said,” but I highly doubt snake face over there is going to wait for you to take a quick power nap. We’ll beat him, but not like this.”

Regulus’s grip tightened around [Y/N] and she felt his lips pull into a smile as a low chuckle emitted from him. 

“It’s amazing how you’re not a Ravenclaw with how much wisdom you spout out.”

“Well I’m far more interested in my friends then a bloody book,” [Y/N] stepped back, hands still wrapped around Regulus, and smiled,” now let’s clean up and head to bed. You deserve at least one good night’s rest.”

[dreamescapeswriting]

Our Future ~ JJK

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

GENRE: Established-Relationship, CEO Jungkook, fluffy

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

The sound of Jungkook's alarm blaring out made you smirk to yourself, he always struggled waking up in the mornings and this was the sixth time in a row his alarm would be going off. You got up from the sofa placing the book you were reading down onto the coffee table and walked into the kitchen to go and pour him his morning coffee. Jungkook would need it if he was going to make it through the day and so would everyone else who would be around him, he was never a morning person. Every morning was the same with him though Jungkook would wakeup late no matter what before rushing around the house to get ready. Screaming out whenever he couldn't find anything that he needed for the day which was why you made sure you knew where everything was for him.

"Baby have you seen my-" He went to call out but you cut him off,

"On the bathroom door, steamed and ready for you to wear." You called up the stairs as you heard him fumbling around hunting for his tie that went with his suit, Monday mornings were always the worst cause he didn't know where all the fresh items were. He shouted out a thank you before finishing his morning routine and you shook your head going back to making him something to eat.

By the time he came downstairs fully clothed you had a to-go breakfast ready with his coffee in a travel mug for him, he kissed your forehead as an unspoken thank you.

"What would I do without you?" He complimented as he took everything from you and began walking out of the front door, you stared down at the coffee table in the living room and shook your head. Sitting there were his car keys which he also needed to get into the office,

"Keys!" You cried out as you rushed over to the front door, carrying his car keys in your hand, you leant against the door frame waiting for him to turn around. He turned to face you and you held them above your head shaking them a little as you puckered up your lips for him.

"You can have them if you give me a real kiss," You giggled to him as he walked back over to you shaking his head as he watched you closely,

"Honestly, what would I do without you?" He groaned out in satisfaction putting his coffee and food down onto the table that was just inside the porch. You smirked to yourself as you brought the keys down from above your head and waited for him to kiss you,

"Probably waste away to nothing, never look presentable and be late to everything." You teased as he smirked at you shaking his head but humming along in agreement as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"It's the truth, you'd be nothing without me, probably just never show up to work-" He cut you off with a short and passionate kiss no matter how often it happened it still made you feel as though you were floating on a cloud. Smiling to himself he pulled away and grabbed his things from behind you, kissing your forehead as he turned to leave.

"I'll see you after work, I'll make sure dinner is ready." You leant against the doorframe watching him leave but he turned to look at you at the last second shaking his head,

"I'll be working late tonight. Jimin and Taehyung have some reports to finish and I said I'd help out...Being the kind and generous CEO I am." He winked at you as he got into the black car, placing his food onto the dash and drink into the cupholder.

"I'll keep you some in the oven then, you can warm it up when you get back home." You blew him a kiss and he pretended to catch it and place it in his pocket for later, you rolled your eyes at him he was always childish like this with you.

"Bye loser!" You called out before shutting the front door and turning to look around the house for something to do, you had some time off from work so you had to figure out something to do. Jungkook had around the clock maids to work in his huge house so there was no way you could clean up anything. There were still boxes from your old apartment that you hadn't unpacked yet so you decided to go and unpack them. Jungkook and yourself had been together for the last four years but you'd only just recently moved in with him since your lease was finally up. He asked you before but you'd never done it because of the lease, you turned towards the staircase and a voice filled the air.

"Do you want anything to eat? I can make you something before I clean the kitchen up." One of the maids - Miss Sana -  questioned as she watched you heading towards the spare office Jungkook had set up for you. It was a workspace away from work so you could still get everything you needed to do done,

"No, it's okay. Thank you though." You whispered to her as you began walking into the office, trying not to seem rude to her. She was one of the loveliest girl's you'd met but having someone run around after you, was still something you found odd. Jungkook was used to having people work for him but, all of it was still new to you having someone make your bed for you, clean everything for you. They'd offer to make you and Jungkook meals but you always refused, wanting him to have a homecooked meal from you.

"If you need anything please call me on the intercom," She called out to you just before you shut the door, leaning back on the door you looked around at all of the boxes at least all of them were labelled making it easier for you. It was mostly all of your work things that needed to be moved in. Things that would be going around the office like photographs, folders and other stationery items you had.

"Miss Y/l/n?" The same maid from the morning questioned when you pressed the intercom, she found it odd since you hardly used it unless Jungkook was at home and you were trying to find it.

"Hi, I just tried to get into Jungkook's office but it's locked. Do you by chance, have a key?" You questioned as you spoke into the machine, it felt weird to be talking to someone halfway across the house you hated doing it when Jungkook was here but in a house this big it was needed. Especially when he would leave his phone in a different room.

"I don't, I can call Mr Jeon if you like?" Her voice came out soothing,

"No it's okay, I'll call him." You stopped the intercom before phoning Jungkook's main office. He should have been on his lunch by now so it was no big deal for you to call him and for him to answer. Not that it would be a big deal anyway, he owned the business and could do what he wanted with it.

"Baby? Is something wrong?" He questioned, answering the call after just four rings,

"I was just wondering where the keys for your office are? I have a photograph I want to put on your desk." You laughed softly looking at the frame it was from your first date together. A collage of photographs all put together inside of the frame, Jungkook hushed someone on the other end of the phone and you frowned.

"It's locked baby, I have the only key. I'm sorry." There was a giggle from the other end of the call that wasn't from him or the boys, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried not to overthink things. It was probably just nothing.

"Oh...Okay, I'll leave it out and you can put it in when you get home? How are the reports coming along?" You questioned him as you waited for some kind of response but it sounded as though he was stalling as he thought of something to say to you.

"They're good, t-the boys are just inside the office with me," You knew for a fact he was lying he stuttered which was one of the dead giveaways that Jungkook was lying to you, that and you heard a female giggle so you knew it wasn't the boys.

"That's great. I erm, I'm going to leave you to it." You hung up quickly not wanting to overthink it anymore and Jungkook frowned looking at the phone on his desk. Jungkook knew you'd been cheated on the past and promised he would never do that to you, you were probably just overthinking everything. His assistant was probably inside the room with the rest of them. At least that was what you were trying to tell yourself.

That night you didn't see Jungkook come home you headed to bed around 10 pm after not getting any responses from his mobile or office phone, you figured he was busy with the boys. You left a small note on the kitchen door telling him how to warm his food up and headed up to bed but this morning there was no sign of him.  Normally you would wake up being cuddled by him but today there was nothing, the sheets were freezing as though he hadn't been home all night and his PJ's were in the same spot as the day before.

"Guk?" You called out when you heard the floorboards outside the bedroom door creak you were feeling hopeful that he'd just gotten up on time,

"N-No Ma'am, it's me." You sighed before dismissing the maid and laid back down against the sheets and stared up at the ceiling wondering if he'd even been home. Usually, you'd wake up before him or when his first alarm sounded but this morning there was nothing, no sign he'd even been home yet.

Heading into the kitchen the same note was on the door of the kitchen and his food was still in the oven yet another sign he hadn't been home all night.

"Miss Sana?" You called out to the maid who had just walked by the kitchen door, she turned to look at you with a small smile on her face.

"Did Jungkook come home last night? I-I cooked for him but he hasn't eaten it..." The maid looked over at the oven and then at you before shaking her head, you could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't sure about telling you about something.

"He was working late, called to tell me to not let you worry. He stayed at the office." Your mouth formed an 'O' shape at the thought of him being locked up in his office all night and day today. It couldn't have been good for him to spend the night on that sofa, you'd spent some time there and it wasn't exactly the comfiest of places.

"I'll take him some lunch later, and some fresh clothes. I hate the thought of him being all stuffy in his work outfit," You tried to seem hopeful and not worried that something was going on behind your back but it was hard when every sign pointed at that there was.

As you strolled onto the top floor of the office building you were stooped by four of Jungkook's employees, all of them asking what you were doing there and how you were doing. Jimin even rushed up to you to see what you had in the small basket in your hands,

"Lunch for Jungkook...He was here all night so I figured he could use some homemade food instead of that junk you get him," You teased poking Jimin's chest as you continued walking in the direction of the main glass office. Jungkook was sitting at his desk with a huge smile on his face as someone sat across from him made him laugh at something.

"Who's he with?" You questioned the assistant who was watching you nervously,

"It's-" The door to his office opened and he walked out,

"I'll call you later- Babe?" He stopped staring at the beautiful woman beside him and looked at you, the smile on his lips fading instantly as soon as he saw you standing there.

"Hi. I-I bought you some lunch?" You gestured to the basket in your hand and he sent you a weak smile,

"Go sit in my office, I was just walking Miss Jackson out." You nodded as you switched places with him and the woman, smiling at her but she avoided your gaze before walking off down the hallways. Jimin stared at you through the glass office and you bit down on your lip, it felt as though everyone knew something except for you so you placed the basket down on the desk and waited for Jungkook to come back to you.

"Sorry baby, hi," Jungkook whispered as he walked into the office again rushing over to you and bringing you into a hug but you placed your hands on his chest.

"I brought you some food and clothes, S-Sanna said you didn't come home," The original plan was to eat with him but after seeing people stare at you through the glass while you waited for him to come back you didn't want to sit there much longer.

"You're not eating with me?" He frowned looking in the basket at everything inside, he could tell it wasn't just meant for him.

"You and the boys should eat it while you work on the reports, are you coming home tonight?" He nodded at your question, he knew something was wrong with you but he wasn't going to press you for information here. He could wait until he got home later to see what it was that was really bothering you,

"I'll see you later," You turned your back on him to leave but Jungkook took your wrist in his grasp and pulled you back to him. You were standing between his legs while he rested on the desk looking into your eyes, he reached up to cup your face in his hands.

"I'll see you when I'm home. I'm not working late tonight," You snuggled into his touch trying to ignore the pit inside of your stomach that something was wrong, it was clear there wasn't when Jungkook was with you.

"You'll be home at the normal time?" You quizzed looking over your shoulder to see Jimin was still watching you both,

 "Yeah, the reports are finished. I'll see you later," He pulled your face to look at him and kissed your lips softly, you instantly relaxed against him and kissed him back. Pushing your hands into his hair as you relaxed into the kiss.

"See you tonight," You whispered to him before leaving him in the office and heading home for the night.

"Oh! Here," You called out as you rushed over to Miss Jackson as she scrambled to pick up something that fell from her bag,

"Thank you." She whispered as you reached under her car to grab the small navy blue box,

"No problem," As you looked up at her she seemed to panic, snatching the box out of your grasp and shoving it into her handbag.

"I have to go. Bye!" She yelled out, slamming her car door as she rushed to get away from you, you frowned watching her speed out of the parking lot but tried not to put too much thought into it as you headed home for the day.

The next morning you straddled Jungkook's lap as you waited for him to wake up, he was on his first alarm so you figured it would be nice to wake up in his arms this time.

"Morning baby," You cooed in his ear, biting down on it softly as you waited for him to wake up.

"Morning," He grumbled as he heard his second alarm beginning to ring, you reached out to shut it off for him but he slammed his hand down quickly on the phone and turned it over so the screen couldn't be seen.

"Baby relax, I was just going to turn the alarm off." You giggled but he opened the drawer and slid his phone into it, wrapping his arms around you as he turned you over to lay on the bed.

"Fifteen more minutes," He moaned out but you wriggled under his grasp, tickling his sides as a form of trying to get him to wake up.

"You'll be late if we have fifteen more minutes, come and shower." You whispered to him in a seducing tone but he didn't move,

"Kookie," You whined out to him about to ask him to join you again when his phone began to ring this time.

"Who's that? It's too early for someone to be calling you." You mumbled to him, reaching out but he shook his head.

"Leave it. It's nothing. Go have some breakfast." He slid out from the bed, grabbing his phone before he grumpily made his way into the bathroom without you. Your invitation to shower together going completely unnoticed by him, you sighed to yourself before getting up to change into something for the day.

Jungkook came down the stairs half an hour later rushing around, as usual, you gave him his drink and breakfast and he left without a kiss or goodbye.

"Mr Kim Namjoon is driving him around today, he isn't in the office," Sana said as she noticed the look of confusion written across your face but it only made you question it more, why had he told Sana where he was going and not you?

"I'm going out for a drive," You mumbled as you watched the car Jungkook was being driven around in pull out of the drive and head in the opposite direction of his office building.

"Miss Y/n? You're going to need something to eat!" Sana stopped talking when the front door slammed and she saw your car backing out of the garage. There was nothing she could do to stop you so she wasn't going to.

You'd followed behind Jungkook's car all morning keeping your distance, of course, you didn't want him to see you in case he thought you were going insane but he was in town. He hadn't gone into work at all, Jungkook and Namjoon were walking through the streets of Seoul while he hunted for something. Stopping at a book store, then a flower store and then a chocolate shop.

"What is he doing?" You whispered to yourself as you watched Jungkook sit down inside the chocolate shop, Namjoon glanced out of the window so you quickly hid behind a man carrying a basket.

"Sir, your girlfriend seems to be following us," Jungkook smirked to himself as he picked out the perfect chocolates followed by a box,

"I know, just keep acting as though we don't see her." He chuckled to Namjoon who just shook his head. Jungkook knew you'd been following him from the moment he got into the city, he'd seen you trying to sneak around behind them but you weren't all that good at being a spy.

"I have something planned, just let me lose her in my own time." Jungkook laughed to Namjoon who nodded along.

An hour passed after Jungkook left the chocolate shop and you lost him in one of the largest crowds you'd ever seen, they were all grouping around some music shop and you couldn't see him anymore.

"Fuck," You whispered as you sat down on a bench in front of the Han River, you knew it was probably insane for you to be following your boyfriend around but you wanted to know what he was doing behind your back.

"Y'know, you wouldn't be a good spy," You jumped up when you heard Jungkook's voice come from seemingly nowhere, you turned around to see him standing behind the bench holding everything he'd bought that day.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I came out for a jog." You lied as you looked away from him not wanting to feel ashamed of following him around, he sighed as he walked around the side of the bench to join you.

"You came out for a jog in this?" He touched the jumper you were wearing, it was one of the most expensive items of clothing you owned and you groaned at him feeling disgusted in yourself,

"I-I was worried you were out with someone else-"

"Like Miss Jackson?" You groaned as he let out a small chuckle at the look on your face as you nodded,

"Don't laugh, it's not funny...I-I look creepy following you around." He shook his head at you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he smiled,

"I thought it was cute, but you were kind of right. I did go to see Miss Jackson today," He handed you the box of chocolates and then the flowers.

"I didn't want to do this here but the plan I had wasn't going to work either," He was started to stumble and stutter over his words as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the box you'd gotten for Miss Jackson yesterday.

"Jungkook..." You whispered slowly as you stared down at the box, he was throwing it between each hand as he smiled at you.

"W-We can do this again, somewhere I can ask you properly but hiding this from you has been killing me this week." He told you as he bit down on his lip,

"I wasn't working late on Monday, I was working on this-" He held the box up in front of your face and you frowned wondering what it was.

"Remember, I'll ask this again properly later but Y/n Y/l/n will you do me the honour of marrying me?" The box flipped open to reveal the ring that Jungokook had been working so hard on all week long. It was a silver band with your birthstone as the diamond, he'd heard you speaking about your dream engagement ring before and wanted to make sure he got it all right.

"K-Kookie," You teared up as you stared up at him, he was tearing up as he looked at you,

"I love you. I want you to be mine for the rest of our lives," He whispered to you,

"Yes! Thousand times yes," You cried out as you wrapped your arms around his body and hugged him tightly, snuggling your head into his neck and sobbing as you agreed to marry him. He chuckled as he held onto you tightly,

"I'll do it again in a real setting-" He stopped talking when you shook your head and kissed his lips,

"You don't have to, this...This is perfect," You whispered to him as you looked into his eyes, he smirked slipping the ring out of the box before he placed it onto your finger.

"This is excellent," You repeated as you looked at the ring which was sitting on your finger perfectly,

"I love you," He whispered as he leant forward to kiss you, neither of you noticing the fact that a small group of people were clapping and congratulating you both on your future together.

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @rjsmochii​ @bisexualmess007​ @sw33tnight​ @innersooya​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​

[catflorist]

Warm (ao3/ffn) catflorist written for the beginnings with sasusaku zine 

Falling snow made Konoha quiet, but this corner of the village was always quiet. Sasuke exited the Uchiha compound with a travel pack hanging heavy on his shoulder. On this evening, with hours until the beginning of the new year, the emptiness of his clan’s district gnawed at him more than usual.

In a different life, he would be fire-jumping with his clan.

Before the new year, the Uchiha clan gathered and lit fires in the streets. They jumped together over the flames. With each leap, the fire fed on their sickness, weakness, and bad luck. It offered health and good luck in return.

Sasuke was not an animated child, but during this ceremony, he would jump high and wild like the others. There was a sense of invulnerability when arriving on the other side of the flame unscathed, then a burning drive to leap again. His feet were loud on the ground when he landed, because he didn't know yet how to move like a shinobi. Every year, he swore he would jump as high as Itachi, though he never could.

No fires were burning in the Uchiha district now, and no children were leaping. The gates to the compound creaked as Sasuke pulled them shut. He slipped into the tangle of Konoha’s winding streets.

Halfway to his apartment, pink hair flashed in the beam of a street lamp. Sakura turned the corner, arms crowded with grocery bags, and strode towards the crosswalk. 

Sasuke halted. She hadn’t spotted him yet. 

“Sakura ka…” he called. He could not say hello when he greeted her, only, Ah, it’s Sakura, like she was a phenomenon to remark upon.

Sakura turned her head. 

“Sasuke-kun,” she replied, eyes brightening. As her gaze flicked to the bag over his shoulder, her smile faltered. “Are you going again?”

Sasuke frowned, pulling on the strap of the offending bag. He had only recently returned to the village. Did she think he was leaving so soon? 

“I was visiting...” He turned his head in the direction of the old Uchiha district. “Gathering some things.”

“I see,” she murmured. “Then...do you have plans this evening? I’m going to make toshikoshi soba.” She shifted an arm, revealing the green onions and package of soba noodles peeking out of one grocery bag. “It’ll be too much for one person.” Her cheeks were pink, but maybe it was the cold. 

Sasuke usually preferred to be alone. Since returning to the village in the fall, he had his routine. It was not very different from his routine while traveling. In the mornings he trained. He cooked meals in silence and gazed at the view of the forest. In the evenings he tried not to sleep too deeply, his protocol to stave off the nightmares.

The only difference was that if Naruto pounded on the door enough, he might be convinced to spar. If Sakura was around, she healed his injuries. “Try to be more careful next time,” she would say with a crinkle between her eyebrows, which is what happened when she wanted to say more, but didn't want to push him.

She wore that same look now, gripping her bags tighter in case he said yes, eyes already down in case he refused. Snowflakes rested and melted on her eyelashes.

After sorting through his father and Itachi’s belongings, on a night when the compound should have been alive with fire, being alone wasn’t as appealing as usual.

“All right,” he heard himself saying.

.

.

Sakura had barely seen Sasuke since he had returned to the village. Now he was seated in her kitchen, tasting the toshikoshi soba she had made following her mother’s recipe. If she wanted, she could bump her knee against his under her small table.

“Your apartment...” Sasuke began. His voice was quiet, the same timbre as the hum of her radiator. 

“I don’t spend a lot of time here,” she interjected, palms itching. Her apartment was small and unadorned. She had cobbled furniture together courtesy of her parents, Ino, and a spare office in the Hokage tower. Half the time, she sneezed when she walked in the door, because she never found a moment to sweep the dust.

Sasuke’s shoulder rose and fell. “No, it’s not that.” He raised the bowl to his lips, taking a long sip. “It looks like it’s yours.”

Before she could wonder how he concluded this, Sasuke lowered the bowl to the table, a little too gently. Something about the movement told Sakura to pay attention.

“I was gathering clothes. Mine are worn from traveling.” He swirled noodles slowly in his broth. “I don’t have another way to wear our crest. What I found wasn’t in great condition.”

Sakura would never fully grasp the lonely responsibilities Sasuke bore as the last of his clan. If he did not wear the crest, there was no one else who would. He had to choose, every day, to be an Uchiha. Otherwise they would disappear. 

“If you need…” Sakura swallowed. “I can help. I know how to sew.” 

The sink dripped, once, twice. Sakura’s mouth opened, an apology bubbling to her lips, when Sasuke left the kitchen. He returned to his chair and spread the contents of his bag on the table: carefully folded articles of clothing, uchiwa fans decorating each item.

Sakura stroked a loose thread, where the fabric of the Uchiha crest was lifting away from the back of a dark haori. “They're not in bad condition,” she said. “They just need some attention.” 

“This was my father’s,” Sasuke said, fingertips grazing a deep blue yukata. He nodded towards the article in Sakura’s hands. “Itachi’s.”

Sakura touched her knee to Sasuke’s, soft enough to pass as an accident. He could easily move away, if he wanted to. He didn’t.

“There was a certain stitch we used to sew on crests,” he said. “But I was young. I never learned.” 

Sakura inspected the stitching pattern on the haori. It was not too different from a surgical stitch she knew. She unearthed her sewing materials from a kitchen drawer and started the careful work of re-attaching the crest.

When the task was done, Sakura lifted her head. Sasuke’s chair was empty, and the table was clear of dishes.

“Sasuke-kun?” she called. 

A soft grunt sounded from behind. Sasuke was leaning over the counter, next to a clean sink and a neat stack of dishes. He set aside a bottle of oil.

She frowned. “What are you doing?” 

Sasuke turned, gripping her old cast iron skillet. Its surface appeared to possess more luster, and less rust, than usual. 

“Your cast iron was rusting,” he said in disapproval. “I’m re-seasoning it.” He lit the oven and placed the pan inside with a clank. “It’ll need an hour.”

“You’ve made yourself at home,” Sakura said.

A faint smile raised the corners of Sasuke’s lips.

Sakura smoothed over the mended crest of Itachi’s haori. “How is this?”

Sasuke reclaimed his seat and leaned in. Their shoulders brushed. After a beat, he nodded. “Good.”

Sakura’s cheeks warmed, unexpectedly. “Being a trained surgeon doesn’t hurt.” 

The smile returned, closer to a smirk this time. He discovered her kettle, brewed tea, and set two cups on the table. Outside the window, night deepened, approaching midnight. 

Sakura slipped back into concentration. Tomorrow she would start off the new year with an early shift at the hospital. Instead of going to bed, she added a yukata to her growing pile of mended clothing. Sasuke remained a quiet presence beside her, sipping tea, making no move to leave.

Maybe, she thought, looping thread through cloth, we’ll do this again. 

Sasuke peered at her face. “What are you thinking about?”

“Hm? Oh...nothing. Smells bad.” The scent of oil pushed past its smoking point was filling her kitchen. “What are you thinking about?”

“The new year,” he said, tracing the lip of his teacup. “Old traditions.”

“Traditions?” she prompted.

Sasuke stood and slid his left hand into an oven mitt. “My clan...we used to do fire-jumping before the new year.”

“That seems very beautiful,” Sakura said, voice hushed. “I know fire is important to your clan.”

“Yes, it is.” 

“Why is that?”

Sasuke removed the pan from the oven. A dark, glassy finish replaced rust and dullness, every imperfection transformed under the oven’s fire. His eyes lowered. “It’s cleansing.”

Sakura stared down at the image of the uchiwa, symbolically fanning the flames of the Uchiha clan. Halfway through a stitch, she had an idea.

.

.

Fire-jumping was an exchange of energy, mutual agreement between human and flame. Both the Uchiha and the flames entered the new year warmer and stronger than before. 

It was a long time since Sasuke had done anything resembling tradition. He had not even celebrated his birthday since first leaving the village, out of the habit of prioritizing his quest for revenge over himself. Tradition was hard when only one person remained to keep it fed. And there was so much he didn’t know, that he had never thought to ask.

He wondered if he could manage to explain this to Sakura. 

Sakura’s eyes were fierce. She finished a stitch, barely looking, and disappeared into her bedroom.

The scent of lavender filled the air. Sakura paused in the hallway with a lit candle. 

“You can do it here, if you want,” she said, holding out the flame like an offering.

.

.

“Why aren’t you jumping, nii-san?” Sasuke asked, tugging once on Itachi’s sleeve. 

The streets were crowded tonight, loud with chatter, music, and crackling flames. The main avenue of the Uchiha district was dotted with fires every few paces, so people could jump down the length of the entire street. Sasuke’s chest was swelling with pride. This year, he had used his ever-strengthening katon to help otou-san light the fires.

Itachi crouched to Sasuke’s eye level. His face was softer than normal in the starlight and the warmth of the flames. “Maybe later,” he said, with a small smile, and a customary two-fingered tap.

As Sasuke frowned in disappointment, Itachi peered down an unlit alley. “I don’t know if the fire will help this year. I might have too much for it to take away.”

His brother’s statement was odd––casual, yet tinged with something Sasuke couldn’t understand. But the strangeness slipped from his mind once he rejoined the rest of his clan, the excitement of the ceremony taking hold of again.

Sasuke spent the next new year alone.

.

.

Sasuke was fourteen, footsteps echoing through the corridors of Orochimaru’s lair. Time had little meaning this deep in the earth, but reading the dates on Kabuto’s newest specimens had recalibrated him. The new year was days away.

Dim torches lined the walls. The fire beckoned him. Sasuke reached out a hand, considering. 

Itachi’s strange words, uttered a lifetime ago, rang in his mind. Sasuke understood what he meant, all of a sudden. The fire promised to cleanse him, to take the hurt away. But like Itachi, he was carrying too much.

He turned his back to the flickering torchlight and slunk into the cold dim of his chamber.

.

.

The day Sasuke returned to Konoha, the forest was under autumn’s spell. Between mossy tree trunks and golden leaves, he caught his first glimpse of the village, bright beneath departing clouds. 

“Okaeri!” Naruto shouted, a speck in the distance bounding through Konoha’s wide gates. Beside him, Kakashi raised a hand in greeting.

Sasuke crossed the treeline, and the steps of his journey quietly ran out. He halted before his old mentor and teammate, the village walls high over his head.

“Taidama,” he said. “What day is it?”

“The equinox,” Kakashi answered. 

Sasuke’s gaze swept across his surroundings. The village streets were damp with afternoon rain. Wet leaves clumped together beneath his sandals. No one else was waiting for him. 

Kakashi and Naruto exchanged a look.

“Sakura’s in the middle of surgery,” Naruto said.

“Hm,” Sasuke replied. 

It was a short walk to his old townhouse apartment. Kakashi presented him the key he had safeguarded, Naruto ordered him to come to dinner later that week, and then he was alone on the stoop. A stray cat emerged from beneath the stairs, interested in Sasuke’s appearance.

Sasuke palmed the key in his hand, facing the door. He was not sure what he would find in the apartment he had vacated when he was thirteen. Did he make the bed before he left? Would he find his old clothes still folded in the drawers?

There was a blur in the air like falling blossoms. Sakura was standing on the sidewalk, mouth parted, exhaling a deep breath. Her boots were splattered with mud and what looked like blood. She wore a sweater thrown on top of scrubs, a crumpled surgery cap in her fist.

“Sakura ka,” he said.

She straightened. “Okaeri, Sasuke-kun.”

He had wondered what it would be like to look at her again. Now he learned it was the same. The exact same.

.

.

Sasuke was seated in Sakura’s kitchen, his eyes unfocused. He saw a clan, together, jumping over fire to bring in the new year. His clan was gone, yet he was warm, and alive, and Sakura was looking at him over the candle’s fire.

He must have been silent for too long, because Sakura’s hand drifted down. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice wavering. “I know it’s not the same––it’s nothing at all how it should be…”

Sasuke rose to his feet and caught her hand. “It will work fine.”

It was not the same. But a flame was a flame. It promised to take his bad luck away, if he so allowed.

Sakura set the candle on the ground, casting the walls of her narrow hallway in a whirl of light and shadow. 

Sasuke closed his eyes and leapt. He leapt again, over and over Sakura’s small candle. Light footed, he didn't make a sound. 

When he opened his eyes, Sakura was leaning against the wall, head bowed. 

“Sakura. Your turn.”

Sakura’s brow furrowed. “It’s not my tradition.”

“I want you to,” he said, moving aside to create space.

Sakura took a breath, preparing herself. She bounded over the candle, twirling and twisting freely in the air. Watching her, Sasuke turned over a thought in his mind that he no longer wanted to ignore. 

With a final leap, she landed close to him. She leaned up on her toes, balanced perfectly between standing and falling, eyes shining from the joy of the movement. Sasuke steadied her elbow, even though she didn't need him to. It was a reflex, like dragging up a blanket in the middle of a cold night, or sighing after drinking water. He could not help but catch her.

It was not the same. There was the scent of lavender, a pile of clothing with freshly sewn Uchiha crests, and somehow, Sakura’s fingers wound together with his.

“You’re an Uchiha now,” he told her. Perhaps it was too blunt to say it this way, but it was true. Anyone who fire-jumped was an Uchiha. If he was the last, then he could shape his traditions, and choose who to do them with.

Besides, they always knew each other well. They only needed some time to know each other well again.

Sakura squeezed his hand, her calloused palm pressed to his. “We can do this again next year. Whatever you like.”

“I would like that,” he agreed.

The candle flickered. It was the start of another year without his clan. But he and Naruto would spar together tomorrow morning. He would feed the stray cats, oil the Uchiha gates, and wear the crest of his clan on his back. Sakura might reach for his hand again. Lately he wasn’t feeling so heavy. 

.

.

As years passed, the tradition changed. It was not a celebration the way it used to be. It was a moment for mourning, remembering. It also felt like beginning.

One year, he leapt over the flame holding his daughter. She wasn’t yet a year old, but her eyes already reflected the fire, like the eyes of any Uchiha. Sakura followed close behind. Everywhere around them was the comfort of warmth and good luck.

Sasuke was no longer alone. He hadn’t been alone in a long time.

.

.

.

.

notes: the fire jumping tradition mentioned in this story is inspired by chaharshanbeh soori, an iranian tradition my family and i celebrate as part of norooz (our new year, which occurs in the spring). i was not with my family this year, so i also jumped over a candle in the hallway of my apartment. it's been a long year. i'm sending my love to all of you!

[webslinger-holland]

Over Dramatic | Tom Holland

Summary: The heavily pregnant reader gets a little over dramatic when things don’t go her own way when making a special meal for their anniversary dinner.

Warning: Like…a few swear words

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Type: Oneshot

MASTERLIST

This was the day of their five year anniversary. She wanted to do something special for her husband and father to her future child. She stare down at the instructions in her cook book and followed them step by step. She had never been too good at cooking.

Between Tom filming in Atlanta for Infinity War and him finishing up the press tour for Spiderman: Homecoming, Y/N rarely ever got to see him. But alas, he promised he would be home for their special five year anniversary.

The thought of being able to be with Tom in just a few hours, excited Y/N. She wanted everything to be perfect for his arrival. She called Harrison, Tom’s best mate, and asked him to pick up Tom from the airport while she prepared everything back home. She set up a nice candle lit dinner and was planning on making his favorite dish.

“Add…one cup of oil,” Y/N read from the book, glancing between the book and the dish. She followed the instructions precisely and when she was done, she carefully put the casserole dish into the oven and set a time.

She wiped her hands clean on her apron, her hands brushing over the small baby bump. She made her way into the living room and flopped down onto the couch. Y/N glanced at the clock and made a mental note in her head that the dish needed to be ready before seven.

She had been running all over town today, picking up the ingredients for the dinner and the decorations. So it was no surprise that she fell asleep instantly. She was not awoken by the sound of the oven timer going off, but by the smell of smoke.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she sat up immediately. “Oh shit,” she raced into the kitchen, now seeing the smoke leaking from the oven. She opened the oven and the kitchen was quickly over taken in smoke. With mittens on both hands, she reached inside and grabbed the dish, pulling it out and threw it on top of their stove. “Shit,” she cursed to herself, now staring at the burnt meal.

She kicked the oven door and immediately regretted it. She clutched her foot in pain as she felt tears cloud her vision. Then she remembered:

“The pudding!” She raced over to the refrigerator and threw the door open. She scrunched her nose in disgust before reaching in and pulling out the so called ‘vanilla pudding.’

She had been craving it recently and asked her mother for the recipe. When making it though, it was suppose to turn solid. And now here it lay, liquidized in her sink.

“Shit, Tom’s gonna kill me,” she muttered before pouring the pudding down the drain. As if things couldn’t get any worse, she heard the sound of glass shattering from the dinning room.

She raced over into the dinning room and gazed at the catastrophe in front of her. Tessa, Tom’s dog, held the corner of the table cloth in her mouth and was slowly pulling it backwards, resulting in the dishes sliding off the table and onto the floor.

“Tessa. Stop,” she begged. When she took a step forward, Tessa bolted, dragging the entire setting with her. The sound of all of Y/N’s dishes, crashing to the floor. “No,” she choked back a sob.

She made her way back to the kitchen and opened the wine cabinet. Just her luck, it was empty. Tom had advised her not to drink anything while pregnant, saying it could ‘hurt the baby.’ But now she was desperate. Nothing had gone her way and Tom would be home in a few minutes.

Y/N lean against the countertop and let herself sink to the floor. She hugged her knees and cried to herself. She didn’t even hear the sound of their apartment door opening nor the sound of Tom calling for her.

When Tom walked into the kitchen, he saw his loving wife in a different position on the floor. She lay on her back, against the cool tiles. Her arms and legs spread out as she cried loudly.

“Darling? What’s wrong?” She kicked she right foot slightly in a fit. “Come on, love. Use your words.”

“N-Nothing w-went as planned tonight,” she cried.

“What do you mean by that, love?”

“I was g-going to cook y-your favorite meal but instead, I burnt it,” Tom stepped over her leg and passed the doorway. He went over to stand near her head and he just so happened to look into the sink.

“What’s this junk in the sink?” When hearing the nickname for her food, she cried even louder.

“It was suppose to be pudding,” Tom raising his eyebrows at her. She brought her hands up and covered her face with them. “I’m such a failure. I wanted tonight to be special and instead, I ruined it.”

Tom knelt down and cupped her tear stained cheek. “Hey, now. Don’t think negative. I’m sure we have something else in this house that we can eat.”

“B-But I wanted for you to h-have a good home cooked m-meal for once. You’ve been working so hard recently. You deserved this and I screwed it up. I am suppose to be a good h-housewife. I am suppose to cook for you. I’m suppose to take care of you,” she sobbed, gazing up into his big brown eyes.

“Well, darling. Nobody’s perfect,” he said, shaking his head. “And you do take care of me, more than you think.”

“How?”

“Well…you keep me going every day you’re not with me. You take care of my parents and brothers for me when I am not around. You,” he gently placed his hand on top of her stomach. “You’re taking care of our child. You’re carrying life!”

Y/N let out a small laugh and sniffed up her tears. Tom brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and continued:

“You are the most amazing, talented, and most beautiful woman I have ever met. I owe you everything,” he praised. He laced his arm around her shoulder and pulled her up into a sitting position.

Tom leaned back against the cupboards and pulled Y/N into his lap. Her forehead tucked into the crook of his neck and her legs draped over his. He rubbed her back with one hand and cradled her thigh in the other. He turned his head and pressed a gently kiss to her head.

“I love you so much. You literally have no idea,” he smiled. Y/N giggled slightly and nuzzled her face deeper into his neck, placing a kiss at the base of his neck.

“I love you too.”

“Happy Anniversary, love.”

THIS WAS MY FIRST TOM HOLLAND FANFICTION. IT IS NOT EDITED IN THE SLIGHTEST BIT SO PLEASE ENJOY THE CRAPPY WRITING! THANK YOU!!!

[originalhybridloverfics]

Bodyguard CH10

A/N: No, your eyes do not deceive you. This is in fact a new chapter. I'm sorry about not updating in what feels like 87 years. I found my way down the Edser rabbit hole and can't find my way back out. I hope you like this chapter.

Felicity looked up as she heard voices and saw Oliver and Digg talking in front of her door.

Her chest tightened at the sight of Oliver.

Over the past few days, she had tried distancing herself from Oliver once she realized her feelings for him were anything but platonic or professional and were growing stronger by the day.

However, it was harder to do than she anticipated. Especially when she was living with him, temporarily, and spent all her time with him.

Still, she did her best to create a distance between them. She made sure whenever they were at the shelter that they were never alone, and when they were at his place, she was careful to not spend any time with him with just the two of them that wasn’t necessary.

She refused group dinners and drinks, she ate breakfast on the go and she kept their talks short and strictly business.

Oliver was persistent of course but she more than held her ground and stuck to her conviction of shutting him out as much as possible.

She knew Oliver didn’t understand why she was pushing him away but she had to do whatever it took to protect herself and right now every survival instinct was telling her she needed to protect every part of herself especially her heart.

Fear was a monster. It was ugly and it was consuming. It crept beneath your skin, shook you to your core, and made you question everything, every decision you make, everyone around you.

It whispered doubts in your head.

Felicity feared the connection between Oliver and herself. It felt stronger every single day he was at her side.

It terrified her.

She was scared that the connection between them would grow strong enough for him to completely break her and she couldn’t shatter again.

It took her forever to pick up the pieces of herself that Cooper had broken.

And even then she was never able to fit her pieces back together perfectly.

Felicity, she was Fractured. Scarred. Damaged.

Oliver deserved better than what she could offer him.

He just hasn’t realized it yet but he will. She was saving them from pain in the long run.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Oliver clenched and unclenched his fist repeatedly, looking toward the door impatiently, sitting on a hospital bed.

He had spent half the day trying and failing to figure out why Felicity was suddenly shutting him out and the other half in the gym, training while John took over being Felicity’s full-time guard. Pair her orders.

Had he offended her in some way? Did his concern for her come across as too overbearing?

God, it bothered him that she was pulling away from him. It was like a sledgehammer was slammed into his chest and the feeling wouldn’t go away.

It was awkward as hell when they returned to his home. Felicity barely spoke a full sentence to him or stayed in a room alone with him for more than five minutes.

If he didn’t know better he would think she was afraid of him but that was crazy.

He would never hurt her. She had to know that, right?

His thoughts were going to drive him crazy.

The door to the room opened and in walked Tommy Merlyn. “When I saw your name in my folder, I thought I was seeing things. You hate hospitals.” Tommy looked his friend over. “You don’t look like you require emergency medical treatment.”

Oliver lifted his hands. “They might be broken.”

Oliver fought to keep a straight face. He knew his hands weren’t broken but he wanted an excuse to come to see his friend when he knew Tommy was busy working in the emergency room in the hospital.

Tommy sent him a doubtful look, setting his clipboard down, he pulled on a pair of gloves and reached for Oliver’s hands inspecting them.

“You have some abrasions, and your hands are pretty banged up but they’re not broken.” Tommy started cleaning the blood from his knuckles and applying a healing and disinfectant ointment. “You want to tell me what you’re really doing here?”

“I needed to talk to someone. I need an outsider’s perspective.” Oliver told him.

“And this couldn’t wait till my shift ended?” Tommy inquired, wrapping Oliver’s hands up.

“It could have but I can’t promise I wouldn’t have gone at least a little bit insane from not talking to someone,” Oliver responded.

“Okay,” Tommy laughed. “If you’re that desperate to talk to someone I can spare a little time. What’s on your mind, Ollie?”

“I’ve been working this new job.” Oliver started.

“The bodyguard job for some client or another.” Tommy supplied.

“Right, “ said Oliver. “Anyway, I met this woman and she’s amazing, she’s beautiful, kind, smart and her strength astounds me and it’s complicated, cause she’s the client,”

“Wait, you’re sleeping with your boss?” Tommy said surprised. Oliver had always taken his job seriously and didn’t like to mix his personal life with his business life.

“No, it’s not like that.” Oliver protested. “We’ve never-”

“But you want to?” Tommy interjected.

Of course, Oliver wanted to. He had to be blind and idiot not to but what he felt for Felicity was more than an attraction. He had feelings for her.

And it was so real for him. Maybe the realist thing he’s ever felt for a woman.

The problem was he didn’t know how Felicity felt about him. He knew she was attracted to him but was that all it was for her? He hoped not.

“I like her a lot.” Oliver finally answered.

“If you don’t care that’s she your boss then what’s the problem?” Tommy inquired.

“I think...I think she might be afraid of me.” Oliver hated having to say the words. He hated thinking it but lately, he felt like Felicity was shutting him out to protect herself. From him.

The notion was a jagged blade twisting in his chest, carving him from the inside. ‘

“Afraid of you?” Tommy repeated incredulously. “You would never hurt a woman.”

“I know that but I’m not sure she does,” Oliver confessed. “She’s been hurt before her.”

“Oh,” Tommy said.

“Oh?” Oliver repeated. “Why do you say it like that?”

“Like there’s more meaning behind that one little word.” Oliver insisted.

“When you say hurt, do you mean physically or emotionally?” Tommy questioned.

“Both,” Oliver said after a moment.

“Then I can see why she’s not open to growing closer with you.” At Oliver’s continued look of confusion, Tommy elaborated. “Women with a history of an abusive relationship have a harder time letting any man close again because the last time they did they didn’t just have their heart broken. In most cases, the woman was hurt, emotionally, physically, and mentally. The physical wounds? Those heal if they’re lucky enough to get out but what stays with them the most are the mental wounds.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Oliver questioned in surprise.

“I’ve seen more than a few women come in here after being tossed around by someone they love since working in the ER for the last two years,” Tommy said. “Your girl, Felicity, if she’s purposely creating a distance between you, pushing you away then it is more than like self-preservation on her part. She’s doing whatever she can to protect herself and being alone is probably the only way she knows how to protect her heart.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Oliver asked.

“First, it’s important, you don’t push her,” Tommy advised. “Second, have a frank discussion about your feelings but you have to take her feelings into account, too. Tell her what’s on your mind, find out if she’s scared of you or of getting hurt, try and reassure as much as you can that you would never push her and finally, let her make the first move.”

Oliver nodded. “Okay,” Oliver grabbed up his coat, pulling it on. “Tommy, do you still get women coming in here recently who have been abused.”

“All the time,” Tommy admitted sadly.

Oliver pulled out his wallet and pulled out the business card for the shelter. “Give this to any of the abused women that come in here. It’s a place that can help them. They’ll be protected. Give them a chance at something better.”

Tommy accepted the card. “Do I want to know?”

Oliver patted his friend on the chest. “Thanks for the advice, Tommy.”

“Anytime, now get out of here. I have real emergencies to tend to.” Tommy walked out of the room, calling over his shoulder that a nurse would be in shortly with his discharge papers.

Oliver decided he wasn’t going to wait around for that and walked on out. He had a strategy forming in his mind, now he needed to get a plan together and make it happen.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Felicity was surprised when Oliver called asking for the rest of the night off but she allowed calling in one of the recruits to fill in for him.

She wasn’t sure what he was doing but it wasn’t her business what he did with his free time or what he considered important to take time off work for. It didn’t stop her from being curious about it, though.

She didn’t even know if he would be home when Digg drove her back to the apartment at the end of the day.

She said goodnight to Digg who walked her to Oliver’s door and didn’t leave till Felicity was safely inside using the key Oliver had given her.

Felicity shut the door and locked it behind her. Oliver didn’t have one of those state of art security systems which she knew because he believed he was his own security system. Who better to defend his home than himself.

“Oliver?” Felicity called out, walking into his living room. She tossed her bag on the couch took off her coat, throwing it over the back of the couch. She held onto the back as she toed off her shoes.

The smell of food filled the apartment, a delicious aroma that made her stomach grumble with hunger.

“In the kitchen,” Oliver called out.

Felicity walked into the kitchen to find the counter, set nicely for dinner as Oliver set a pan he pulled from the oven in the center, followed by a pan of bread.

“Did you make us dinner?” Felicity asked in surprise.

“I did,” Oliver smiled at her. “And I got you this,” Oliver turned and pulled out a bottle of wine from a container of ice. “Red is your favorite, right?”

“It is.” Felicity felt a flutter in her stomach, a light feeling spreading across her chest. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“I wanted to,” Oliver said, voice soft. “Sit please, everything is almost done.”

Felicity took the seat and watch him move around the kitchen a quiet smile on her lips, momentarily forgetting that she was doing her best to avoid him.

Sometimes the pull to him was just too strong to resist. Like right now.

He was always so at home in the kitchen. There was always this weight he carried on his shoulders, this alertness about him like he was prepared to be attacked at any moment, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing since it was his job to be ready to fend off an attack but it made Felicity want to pull him in her arms and tell him it was okay to let his guard down sometimes.

That need to assure him everything was fine always left a flash of fear behind. She shouldn’t feel this away about him.

Watching him now, it was like all of that weighed him down and kept alert fell away and she got to see Oliver the man and not Oliver Queen the bodyguard.

“How everything go today? Any new problems?” Oliver asked as he set the table with their filled plates.

“No new problems,” Felicity answered as he poured them some whine. “What did you do today?”

“Let off some steam, visited my friend Tommy, I believe I’ve mentioned him a few times.” Oliver took the seat across from her.

“You did,” Felicity confirmed, she lifted the glass of wine to her lips, tasting the liquid on her tongue, she hummed quietly to herself. “He’s a doctor right?”

Oliver nodded, taking a bite of the bread he made. “He is. Works in the ED.”

“This is the same Tommy from Thea’s stories?” Felicity asked. “Because I gotta say I was still expecting to be more of a wild card.”

“He’s both.” Oliver gave a small laugh. “He’s serious when he needs to be but he lets out that other side of himself after a few drinks but he’s a good man.”

“Much mike yourself,” Felicity said, taking a bite of her food.

Something warmed in Oliver’s chest that Felicity believed him to be a good man. That had to help his case in the larger scheme of things. He opens his mouth to reply but snapped it shut, listening as a sound of pleasure escape Felicity’s lips.

Her eyes were closed as if she was savoring the taste and there was a flush to her cheeks that wasn’t there before, her tongue darted to chase the taste on her lips.

He tightened his hand on his fork as desire shot through him, wanting to hear the sounds she was making, the look of pleasure on her face for a different reason, involving him, and absolutely zero clothing.

Felicity’s eyes fluttered open slow. “Wow, that is really good. I know I said before I really didn’t expect you to be such a good cook. It’s like dining at a five-star restaurant.”

Oliver laughed. He knew his cooking was good but it wasn’t that good. “You don’t have to flatter me, Felicity.”

“This is not flattery, it is fact,” Felicity argued, pointing her fork at him warning him. “Don’t knock what I say. If I say it's the best meal I had in years then it is.”

Oliver held his hands up in surrender, a carefree smile pulling at his lips. “Got it, it’s utterly delicious.”

“Exactly,” Felicity took another bite, her eyes closing as she savored the food.

Oliver wasn’t sure if he was turned on by her utter enjoyment or amused that she was so vehement that it was as good as she thought.

Oliver spent most of the meal just gazing at Felicity, enjoying just being in her presence. Felicity excluded this light and he felt it cut through his darkness.

Felicity offered to clear the table and do the clean-up. Oliver was quick to tell her she didn’t have to, he would take care of it but Felicity insisted in the end they compromised and ended up, doing it together.

“So, I was thinking that tomorrow I was going to go out and look for something bigger for everyone to move to, I figured I take you and Digg with me. I could use both of your expertise because we want somewhere that’s fortified, somewhere that’s big, something that can give them home and not feel like they're being locked away for their safety.”

“We can have Slade looked after everyone while we’re out.” Oliver agreed as they washed dishes. “I think I might have an idea about where we can look. I need to make some calls first.”

Felicity place the last dish in the cabinet and dried her hands. “Really? That’s great. The sooner we find somewhere the better.”

“I agree,” Oliver said. “Now that we have business out of way, I was hoping we could talk.”

“Talk about what?” Felicity's brow furrowed.

“I know things have gotten a bit tense between us,” Oliver began, turning toward Felicity, he took her hand in his and stepped closer. “I know you think I’m being over-protective but that’s not it, it’s more than that. This job isn’t a job for me. I want to protect you, I want to help people. it’s who I am.”

“I know,” Felicity nodded, looking up at his earnest blue eyes. “Who you are is why I feel like I can trust you and trust isn’t easy for me. I trust you more than I thought was possible.”

But still, there were things she would never trust in a man again. It wasn’t Oliver's fault. It is what it is.

Oliver copper her cheek and his warmth soaked into her skin, making her feel at home. “Do you trust that you mean more to me than a job?”

Felicity’s heart skipped a beat in her chest. “Oliver,” she whispered. She didn’t think he would address this thing between them so head-on.

Oliver fell to the look in her eyes, the way she said his name. Like a prayer.

He closed the distance between and pressed his mouth to Felicity’s. He felt her tense, her body freezing up and he cursed himself.

He shouldn’t have done that.

But then suddenly, he felt Felicity’s lips pressing back against his.

He pulled back to look into her eyes, see her reaction.

Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright.

“Felicity,” he whispered, voice low.

Felicity surged forward grasping his face in her hands and pulled his mouth back to hers.

Oliver groaned, he wrapped his arms around, pulling her flush against his front.

She was so small in his arms but so perfect, he licked at the seam of her lips. His tongue sweeping inside when she opened for him, tasting her mouth as her hands fisted his shirt and smooth up his arms, gripping his biceps.

He secured his hand across her waist and lifted her, sitting her on the counter.

He tilted her head back deepening their kiss, pulling her hair free from her ponytail and running his hands through her long strands.

Felicity’s hand moved over his back, hiking her legs up to wrap around his waist, pushing him closer.

Her hands dove into his hair, beneath slipping beneath his shirt. He didn’t care that her fingers trail across his skin. All he could think about was her skin pressed against his, her hands exploring her body.

He slipped one hand beneath her shirt, her skin was soft as he slid up her ribs, and gripped her pulling her forward and grounding his hips against her, desiring shooting through him.

Felicity gave a gasp and then she was placing her hand on his chest and pushing him back. “Stop, we can’t do this.”

Her words like ice on his skin. He stopped immediately, removing his hands from her body. “Felicity, I-”

“We can’t do this,” Felicity repeated, she pushed at him again and he took a step back giving her the space she wanted.

Felicity jumped down from the counter and ran her hand through her hair. “This can’t happen, Oliver. It’s important that we keep this professional.”

Oliver could see the way her hand shook, and how she avoided looking at him. Everything inside of him was telling him that she was scared. Scared of feeling something for someone? Scared of feeling something real. Scard to give her heart to someone again.

“I don’t think I can do that. It’s hard to be professional when you want to be with someone.” Oliver said, wanting Felicity to know how he felt. “I feel like we’ve been skirting around the attraction between us and I’m tired of pretending that I don’t have feelings for you.”

Felicity shook her head. “Oliver, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do. I know how I feel about you and no one can tell me what I feel. I think I know my own heart.”

“You don’t want me, Oliver,” Felicity felt tears gather in her eyes but she refused to cry. “I’m damaged. I won’t ever be good for you. You are amazing and can do so much better than someone who still has nightmares about a piece of shit ex.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Oliver said vehemently. “You're the most amazing woman I have ever known. You're beautiful and smart and resilient and have a strength inside of you that I have never known, Any man in the world would be lucky to have you. I want to be that man.”

“No, you don’t.” Felicity shook her head and took a step away from him.

Oliver wanted to pull her closer but it was clear by the way she wrapped her arms around herself she didn’t want to be touch in any way and he was going to respect that.

“I get it you’re scared, you’ve been heart in ways I can’t imagine, you were betrayed by someone you loved and nothing I say will change that but you don’t have to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you. I would rather die than to ever see you hurt let alone be the cause of your pain. Please, don’t turn away from this because you're scared I’ll be like him. I could never be like him.”

Felicity’s heart clenched painfully. Oliver’s words while meant to be reassuring were the opposite. He was making very clear how deeply he cared for her and it only made this harder for her.

“I know you won’t hurt me.” Felicity's voice shook with the effort not to cry, to stay strong. “I know you’re not like Cooper but I can’t let you get close. I can’t care about you so much that I let you have power over me.”

If Cooper taught her anything it was love meant having power over someone and she couldn’t let that happen again no matter what she felt for Oliver.

“I can’t do it.” Felicity felt herself breaking inside and was becoming increasingly difficult to keep it together. “I won’t.”

Oliver shook his head. Love wasn’t having power over someone. It was giving yourself to someone, it was caring for someone, it was putting their wellbeing and happiness before your own. It was trusting them with all you have. Your heart, your body, your soul, everything that made you who you are.

“I don’t want to have power over you, Felicity,” Oliver said earnestly. He needed to be open with her but he also had to let her make the choice of what happened next. “I want to be your strength. I want to be the pillar that holds you up when you need some help. I want to be the person you turn to but more than anything I want to love you and I want you to let me.”

His words were so beautiful and God, Felicity wanted to let Oliver be all those things but she couldn’t. “I’m sorry but I can’t. I just can’t.” She could no longer keep her tears in as they slide down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

A/N: I hope you like the chapter. The next Olicity update will be I Can't Let Her Die.

Thank you to everyone still here, reading my fics even though I take forever to update.

Tags: @mariestark @memcjo

Sorry about the lack tags but I lost my tag list for this story and can't remember all who wanted to be tag for this. Feel free to remind me if you want to be tagged so I can create a new list accordingly.

[kaimelia]

So I know you said your in a sad mood and whenever I am sad I think of amelink and donuts so I have a prompt based on that but I also know, you probably are in the mood to write sad stuff soooo here’s my compromise haha. Okay so something happens (that’s up to you) and then basically it ends in amelink being very cute at the end and talking it out with donuts. I hope this makes sense! I love your fics. Stay safe!

By Your Side

a/n: hi! thank you so much for the prompt, I know I went a bit off from it but it still ends with donuts and I hope you enjoy it :) thank you for the kind message too! <3

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

"Okay, I need to wash the couch cushions, clean the oven, and take out the trash," Amelia muttered, making a list of what she had yet to do in their apartment. Link raised his eyebrows.

"My parents aren't going to walk in here and think, 'Hey, let me go check if she cleaned the oven. Wow, she didn't; I guess she's not good enough for my son,' Amelia."

She rolled her eyes at him and walked towards the couch, unzipping the gray cushion cover.

"I haven't actually seen your parents since we first met. I want to make a good impression." He dodged the pillow she threw at him and picked it up from the floor.

"We facetime them at least once a week. This isn't a big deal." He tossed the pillow back towards the couch and moved to the trash can, taking the bag out. "I'll take out the trash; you go start the wash." Amelia smiled gratefully, hurrying down the hallway towards the laundry room. He walked back into the apartment a moment later to see her pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and standing in front of the stove.

"Where's the stovetop cleaner? The natural one so that Scout doesn't inhale chemicals?" He reached up to the cabinet above the fridge, pulling out the spray bottle. "You need to stop putting it up there. I'm short."

"Maybe I'm hiding it so that you'll stop obsessively cleaning," he teased, his sarcastic tone fading after she glared at him.

"Go get your son. He was fussing a minute ago," she retorted, taking the bottle from him. Link walked down the hallway and pushed open the door to their son's room to see him standing up in his crib.

"Hey, Scout!" The 10-month-old burst into a grin, holding his pudgy arms out to his father. Link scooped him up, kissing the boy's cheek as he did so. "You wanna go see Mama?"

"Mama!" He shouted, grabbing the collar of his father's shirt. Link led him back out into the living space and strapped him into the high chair, pulling a jar of baby food out of the fridge. "Mama," Scout repeated, his arm waving in the direction of his mother.

"Mama's gotta clean, buddy. Grandma and Grandpa are coming soon," she muttered, continuing to scrub the stovetop. "What time does their flight get in?"

"3 hours," Link responded, pulling a chair to sit in front of Scout. "I figured you two would stay here so Scout doesn't fuss too much."

"Bib!" Amelia yelled, seeing Link feeding Scout a spoonful of food. "Put a bib on him!"

"We have to change his clothes anyway; the little dude's still in his pajamas." The mother cringed as a drop of food fell onto the boy's shirt. "You look like you want to kill me."

"Only a little bit." She rubbed her forehead. "I'm just stressed. They haven't met Scout yet."

"It's gonna be fine, Amelia. How can someone not love this guy?"

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

Amelia paced nervously around the living room, her son resting on her hip and his chubby hands pulling at the ends of her hair. "Scout, leave my hair alone," she muttered, taking his hand away. "You're gonna be good when Grandpa and Grandma get here, right?" He reached back for her hair. "I'm not going to hold you if you keep grabbing my hair." He seemed to understand that, dropping his hand away from the strand he was tugging.

"Dada?"

"Dada's in the car. He's picking up your grandparents." There was a knock on the door, and Amelia rushed towards it, unlocking the door before opening it. "Hi!" She greeted as Maureen immediately pulled her into a hug.

"There's my grandbaby!" The woman cooed, holding her arms out. Amelia smiled while handing him to her, watching as Scout quickly grabbed a lock of his grandmother's hair.

"Sorry, he keeps doing that," she muttered, scratching her head.  "Oh, come inside!" Amelia stepped back and opened the door further, welcoming the woman into her and Link's home. "Where are Link and Eric?"

"Link wanted to pick something up. I just wanted baby time." The neurosurgeon grinned and crossed her arms over her chest. "He's so much tinier in person!" They settled onto the couch, and Amelia beamed proudly after Maureen commented on how clean the apartment was before diverting her attention back to Scout, who was fascinated by his grandmother's bracelets. Light conversation about the baby floated between them as they waited, and Amelia eventually led Maureen into the boy's room.

"Hey, we're home!" She recognized Link's voice immediately, poking her head out of the nursery and smiling at him.

"We're in here; what's that?" She asked, pointing to the box under her boyfriend's arm. He waved his hand to dismiss it, setting the box on the kitchen island.

"Don't worry about it." Amelia leaned into Link for a quick hug, pulling away after he kissed her forehead. She greeted Eric and then entered back into the nursery, where Link was telling a story about a stuffed tiger Scout had recently become obsessed with. She stood against the dresser, leaning ever so slightly into Link's side and sighing as his arm wrapped around her waist.

"So," Maureen spoke after handing Scout to her husband, turning to Amelia and Link, "we are thinking about moving up to Seattle." The couple's eyebrows rose simultaneously, and Amelia almost laughed as their expressions mirrored each other's.

"Wow!" She shook her head in surprise, feeling Link's arm tighten around her waist. "Why?"

"Half of Eric's office is moving to Seattle, and he was offered a position, and it just feels right. We'd be closer to you two and get to see Scout more often."

"Okay, but we're gonna need rules," Link chuckled. "You can't just show up randomly, and you've gotta look for a place that's not too close."

"What, you don't want to spend all of your time with your parents?" Eric teased, glancing down as Scout played with his fingers.

"I'm gonna have to say no," Link responded, dropping his arm to his side. "Alright. Why don't Amelia and I put your bags in the guest room, and then we can all take a walk?" He grabbed her hand, pulling her into the kitchen where they had previously dropped the two suitcases they'd brought.

"Okay, what's in the box?" She asked, picking up a suitcase. Link grinned.

"Snack for later. I figured this counted as a special occasion."

"You can't keep getting donuts! I keep eating them!" He shook his head in amusement as they set down the bags on the bed in the guestroom, looking over at Amelia.

"You were kind of spinning out this morning. I figured you could use something a little special," he spoke, stepping towards her. Link pulled her into a hug. "You don't have to freak out about my parents being here. They love you, I promise." She grinned.

"Well, I'm gonna have to get used to freaking out," she muttered into his chest, sighing at the comforting feeling of his hand gently rubbing up and down her back. "When are we having donuts?"

"After we all take a walk," he pulled away, grabbing her hand. "Reward for the torture of having to interact with my parents." Her nose scrunched as she shook her head.

"Now you're just being dramatic."

[callmemythicalminx]

Birds and the Bees 4- DBH Connor x Reader

Can be read as a stand alone!

Fandom: Detroit:Become Human

Warning: Talking ‘bout sex, Awkwardness

Summary: Now that you and Connor have been doing ‘The Devil’s Tango’ for a few months now, you’ve noticed something recently that seems too insane to be true. It’s time for you to see if it’s actually possible. 

A/N: I had to write another part of BATB for my first fanfic back after being away for so long. You guys really love this series and it’s one of my favourites too. Every since finishing part 3.5, I always wanted to add more as there’s definitely more ideas to be told with Connor and his innocense. I feel like this might be the last one, but who knows, I might write more in the future...

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

What. The. Fuck! 

This is actually happening. The stick in your hands confirms it- you’re pregnant. For the past two months, you’d noticed that you’d missed a few periods, nearly every morning waking up with a trip to the bathroom to throw up and your tiredness had been getting worse everyday too. You’d had initial ideas that it might just be stress or your irregular cycle making you feel ill, but eventually you had to come to the absolutely insane idea that you may actually be pregnant with Connor’s baby. 

You’d tried to put off taking a test because your mind refused to believe this could be happening. Not that you don’t want a kid, you’d love to have little versions of Connor and yourself running around. But you want kids much further in the future. And also, there’s the teeny tiny odd question of how the hell this has happened! You’re human. Connor is an android. For this exact reason, the two of you haven’t been bothering with protection with all the sex you’ve been having, as you’re both clean and your boyfriend is infertile- or so you thought. 

You don’t even know how he’s going to react to this. Will he be happy or sad? And how is everyone else going to react? Yourself and Connor have only been dating for over a year, so it’s much too soon to be having children. You take in a deep breath, sighing as you move your hands down to your stomach.

“I don’t know how you got in there little Floobie, but here you are. God, I hope your Daddy is gonna be okay with this”.

You walk into the living room to see Connor seated on the couch trying to complete one of his puzzles, the stick containing the proof of your future feeling like a burning weight in your sweaty palm as you approach him. 

“Connor? I- I uh- I have something I need to show you” You announce, breaking him from his deep concentration as he stares at the pieces in his hand.

“Y/N? Is everything alright? You look really pale and I can detect your temperature rising rapidly”.

You let out a short laugh, walking forward to rest your free hand on his arm as you take a seat beside him. “I’m fine Connor, I’m just a little nervous. I’ve just found out some big news”. He opens his mouth to question you, but your worried look has him stopping short. Instead of telling him, you decide to instead place the test in his hand so he can see it for himself.

As you move to do so, a million thoughts race through Connor’s mind. Are you sick? Are you leaving him? Are you finally gonna get a dog and you’re putting a collar in his hand? With trepidation, he opens his palm as your closed hand begins to open, his eyes flickering quickly as he tries to figure out what you’re about to give him. When the light weight of the stick falls into his hand, his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion and he tilts his head slightly to the side. You hold your breath as he brings the test closer to his face, his face tilting (nearly touching his shoulder now) as he inspects it. 

You wait for a reaction, a smile or a frown, anything. But he just continues to look at it. You begin to fear the worse when he finally looks up at you and-

“It’s not working”.

You copy his earlier movement as your own head now turns in confusion, looking at Connor's oddly very calm face. 

“What-what do you mean? I just used it. I just used three of them actually to make sure it was right”.

“So you are ill then? Y/N, darling, you should have just come to me, you didn’t need to waste your money buying these things. I am quite advanced with this sort of health observation, thanks to Cyberlife, but you already know that. Which is why I don’t understand why you’d-”.

“Wait, hold on Connor, what do you think this actually is” You ask, incredulously.

 “Um… A thermometer. As I said darling, it’s quite easy for me to simply look at you and take an accurate reading of your temperature, in fact I’ve noticed recently-”.

“Connor I’m pregnant”. 

He stops for just a moment. Then…

“Oh yes, I already know. Like I was saying, I’ve noticed recently that your bodily readings have been different than usual these past few months and on more than one occasion, I have detected that you’ve been sick in the mornings and hid it from me. I was getting so worried that I just decided to do a full body scan while you were sleeping one night and that’s when I realised there was new life growing inside you”.

“Connor… I-I… You... You knew I was pregnant?! W- why didn’t you tell me?”.

“I thought you already knew? Because of your periods? When a woman discontinues having a monthly release of blood, is it clear to see that she’s pregnant with new life. That and you haven’t been buying any new sanitary products or telling me to go out on calorie hauls everytime you go through that specific time”.

You breathe a deep sigh, of both relief and shock. In fairness, you probably should have realised Connor would have been able to sense you were pregnant- he is the most advanced detective android there is. You guess that your disbelieving of the possibility of this happening also overlooked the fact that your boyfriend is a robot genius.

“If you already thought I was pregnant, did you not question why I hadn’t told you?”

He looks away sheepishly, lifting his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I thought this was something that women just deal with on their own, the male doesn’t really do much in most cases of animals. The female is the one who cares for the baby with her body, the male is just there to protect and keep them both safe. So I thought it was just a way for you to keep ‘the bun in the oven’ to make sure you’re looking after it okay”. 

You blink. You blink again. Then you let out a small laugh and bury your face in your hands shaking your head. That has to be the weirdest thing to come out of your boyfriend's mouth, even after everything he’s said these past few months. When you look back up at Connor again, you see him looking at you, head titled again and you let out another laugh, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. 

“Oh Connor… We’re not animals, even though we do act like them sometimes, especially rabbits,” You let out another small laugh, while Connor smiles nodding in agreement “, Couples bring their babies into the world together, supporting each other. Granted the woman does do pretty much all of the work, but the man doesn’t just ‘protect’ and keep them safe, though it is appreciated. They help keep the mother healthy, comfortable, relaxed, loved- like you will right? You do want this baby don’t you Connor?”

“Of course, this is what I’ve wanted since we first made love”.

“Wait… what?”.

“Well, ever since you told me that sex is primarliy to create new life, I have been questioning Cyberlife about installing a new function within me to make me fertile. Though I have been quite enjoying our love making, I still haven’t been able to get the thought out of my head that we haven’t been doing it properly. So thankfully, Cyberlife agreed, on the grounds that it will be a good step in the right direction of progressing human-android relations”.

“So when did you become fertile?”.

“About half a year ago, maybe more”.

“Jesus, Connor, we’ve been having so much sex, it’ll be a wonder if I’m not pregant with twins”.

“I know, I’m surprised it took that long for you to become pregnant. And, statistically speaking, twins are only 3-4 out of every 1000 births, and there are many contributing factors. Sex can contribute to some extent, but it in our case it seems to have helped massively. Just last night, I did a scan again and saw that there are in fact two life forms inside you- how did you know darling?”

“Only 3-4 out of every 1000 births, eh? Well, that’s- WAIT WHAT?!?”

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

“What the fuck?! Twins” Hank utters as he places his half eaten burger down on his arm rest. 

To be honest, it probably wasn’t the best idea for you and Connor to tell him that you're having two children at this specific moment in time, eating the food that you had brought him for dinner to help ease this situation. The smarter thing to do would have been to tell him before, then give him the burger and drink from his favourite takeaway to calm him down. But as you sit there next to Connor with guilty smiles on your faces as you look at a horrified Hank who looks like he’s gonna be sick, you definitely know you should have told him sooner. 

“Wait, wait, wait, how is this even possible?! You’re an android and Y/N’s human, how does that work?”

You begrudgingly reply “It’s a long story”.

Connor however has no shame and immediately launches into re-telling the story of how you two began having sex. You have no power to stop him as you know this story is getting told no matter what because he is Connor afterall, so you simply sit back and stare down at your wine glass in embarrassment, feeling like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. 

Every once in a while, you’ll look up and see Hank growing progressively more green as your boyfriend retells how he first asked about sex and then anal, and then your many different sexual escapades including the one where he was in a meeting with Amanada, and then finally how you got pregant. Connor, still as innocent as ever, goes into great, unneeded detail not realising that this isn’t something he should really be telling his dad. Even Sumo looks sick, paws nearly over his ears as he lays at your feet. 

Finally after some time to reflect on what has just been said to him, Hank, looking equivalent to a cucumber in colour and looking faint, mumbles “So you two rabbits have been doing it everywhere huh?”.

As Connor happily nods in response, you sit in shame, taking a much needed gulp of wine, then another as Hank takes a big sip of his own drink.

 “We even did it on your desk.

Wine. Soda. Everywhere. Again.

*Sigh*

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

A/N: I realise a year later that I wrote the reader to be drinking alcohol during this... while she's pregnant. Don't drink if you're pregnant fellas, my dumbass forgot that 😌

[supernaturalwritingbunker]

Apple Pie Life-Dean Winchester

Summary: Dean is finally living the life he’s always dreamed of. He has a wonderful wife, a baby and a great job...But was that the truth?

Warnings: Fluff, Slight Angst, Paranormal Influence, Language, Daddy!Dean.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Words: 2370

Tag List: @elskinner45​ @you-a-southpaw-doll​ 

A/N: First Story on This Blog! I hope you all enjoy! To be tagged in Dean One shots, Message me, comment or submit an ask!

Dean’s P.O.V. ~ 2010, Lawrence, Kansas

Humming the words to Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd, I slowly climb out of Baby, my 1967 Chevy Impala, passed down to me from my dad when I got married to Y/N four years ago, after we’d been dating and engaged for a little over a year. Mom and dad were so happy when I finally settled down. Sammy had been off at Stanford for a couple years, and getting close with his own girl, Jess, when I met Y/N.

She and I had hit it off the moment she walked into my mechanic shop, trying her best not to freak out about the fact that her car had pretty much just died on her. Since it was a newer car, a 2003 Honda Civic, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d know what to do to fix it. My specialty lies in fixing up classic cars, always has been, ever since I was old enough to help my dad work on Baby.

At the time Y/N walked into my shop, I’d only recently been learning how to work on the newer style cars. Despite my hesitancy at being able to fix her car, the look on her face, the distraught, the panic...it just tugged at something inside me, and I knew I’d do whatever it took to fix her car for her. 

Only, I wasn’t able to. The car was beyond repair. Even my adopted Uncle Bobby couldn’t fix it, and he can fix almost anything. So, after he and I towed Y/N’s car to his salvage yard, and I made it back to my shop, I offered Y/N a ride to wherever it was she needed to go in town. It was a quick trip to the diner to get her some to-go food before I dropped her off at one of the town’s motels.

That was when I learned she was new in town. That she had just moved here from a small town in the New England area. Just before she got out of the Impala, since Dad let me drive it today, I gave Y/N my number and told her to give me a call tomorrow, and I’d take her up to Uncle Bobby’s salvage yard and see if we could find her a new car that would actually work. 

It didn’t take long after finding her a new car, a 69 Dodge Charger, that Uncle Bobby had on the back part of his lot, that Y/N and I started dating. Six months after we got together, I popped the question, to which she said yes, and not even six months after that, a year to the day we met, Y/N and got married in a small, intimate ceremony. 

She and I moved into this cute little, 4 bedroom, 2 bath farmhouse with a yard big enough for our two Golden Retrievers, Zep and Cash, and our bluetick hound, Lenny. We wanted a place big enough for if our family, well mom, dad, Sammy and Jess, came over and stayed the night or something. And, we also wanted it to be big enough for when we started to grow our own family.

When we first moved in, there wasn’t a fence around our yard, but after a weekend and some help from dad and Uncle Bobby, I had one up, and could let the dogs run around freely. As I close the driver’s door, and step away from Baby, Lenny comes running over from his spot on the porch, and jumps up, putting his front paws against my chest.

I laugh as I pet him. “Hi, boy! I missed you too!”

He barks happily, his tail wagging. I chuckle and gently push him off me and keep walking to the porch. Lenny bounds along behind me, happy that I’m home. I pet his head again before opening the front door, kicking my boots off, and stepping inside.

“Honey? I’m home!” I call, setting my keys on the hook by the door.

“In the kitchen!” I hear my wife call out.

I smile to myself. My wife. After four years of being married, the thought of being married to Y/N still has me grinning like a fool. I pad across the hardwood floor in my grey socks, making my way to the kitchen. Pausing in the doorway, and leaning against the frame, I tuck my hands in my pockets and smile even more at the sight in front of me.

Y/N dances in the kitchen, our little girl, MaryJo in her arms, as she sings our song and bakes something. My stomach growls as the smell of an apple pie in the oven wafts across the room to me. I smile and push myself up off the door frame before walking over to my little family. I place a kiss on Y/N’s cheek, making her jump a little but giggle as she smiles up at me. 

“How was work, sweetie?” She asks, moving MaryJo slightly.

I smile as I lean down to kiss our four month old daughter’s head, earning a giggle in response. I lean against the counter, and look at my beautiful wife, taking in the sight of her in my shirt. 

“It was good. Extra slow so I was just fixing a car from Bobby’s salvage yard.” I say, grinning.

She giggles. “Is that why you look like you went four rounds with an oil bucket and it won?”

I laugh and look down at my oil stained t-shirt. “I suppose so, baby. You know those old things are covered in so much dirt, grime, and Chuck knows what else.”

She giggles. “That’s fair. Mine definitely was.”

“Mmm. She was. But she’s all clean, and running smoothly now!”

“Thanks to my amazing husband.” She whispers, leaning up to kiss me softly.

I grin as she pulls away. “Mm. Your amazing husband? Hmm. He sounds like a pretty cool dude.”

“Oh, he is! And he’s a sweetheart and an even better father.”

I smile. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah! See, our daughter, she just loves him to pieces, and has him wrapped around her finger.”

Chuckling, I sneak a glance down at MaryJo, and wink when I see her staring up at me with an adorable, gum-filled smile. She squeals and wiggles in her mama’s arms, making her laugh softly and rub her cheek with my thumb.

“Well, it’s a good thing her daddy loves her to pieces too.” I say, looking back at my wife.

Y/N giggles and nods. I smile and watch her cook. 

“How was your day? You girls do anything fun?” I ask.

“Oh, definitely! Let’s see...we napped...mommy did some work while MaryJo napped again after lunch. Um...oh, she got a bath. Then we snuggled and watched Ice Age. After another nap for Princess, and more work for mommy, we decided to bake a pie for when daddy got home.”

I smile. “Sounds like an amazing day! Work’s still letting you work from home? Not still pressuring you to get back to the office?”

Y/N smiles and shakes her head. “Nope! Luckily I can still do whatever I need to from the house. Although, I have to go in one day next week, to turn in the case files I have here and pick up some new ones.”

“Sounds like a plan, baby. Let me know, and I’ll take the day off from the shop, and stay home with our Princess here.”

She smiles up at me. “Maybe Wednesday?”

“Sounds good to me, baby.” I smile, leaning down to kiss her head. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up and come help you finish cooking, yeah?”

“Go get cleaned up, but don’t worry about helping. Dinner’s almost done. And it’s a surprise.”

I chuckle. “Yes, ma’am!”

I give her another gentle kiss before bending down and kissing my little girl’s head, getting another giggle as I do. I smile and make my way out of the kitchen as the front door opens, causing me to look up. 

“Sammy? What are you doing here, brother? I thought you weren’t due to come into town for another couple weeks.” I say, confused, as my younger brother steps inside, looking a little panicked.

“Dean!” He exclaims, rushing over to me, and pulling me into his arms. “C’mon, man. We gotta get you outta here!”

I push him back a little, even more confused. “What do you mean, Sam? I just got home? And Y/N’s cooking dinner.”

“Y/N’s here? Dean! It’s a trap. It’s not real!”

I glare at my brother. “My wife and daughter are real, Sam! They’re just as real as you and I! And so is mom, dad, and Jess!”

Sam sighs. “Dean. Mom died when you were 4. Jess died while I was still at Stanford, right after dad went missing. That’s why I got back into hunting. And, dad...Dean, sold his soul to Yellow Eyes to save you after the car wreck. You know this. Now, c’mon. We gotta get you outta here before the Djinn comes back.”

I stare at my brother like he’s grown a second head.

Suddenly, everything goes black for a second as I blink and when I open my eyes again, I’m no longer in the farmhouse with Y/N and my daughter. Instead, I’m in an old warehouse, leaning against Sam.

“Sam?” I croak out, my throat dry.

“I’ve got you, Dean. Don’t worry. We’re gonna get you outta here. We gotta hurry. The Djinn’s gonna come back soon though.” My brother replies, holding me up.

At the sound of a growl, he and I both look. A Djinn comes running at us. I pull away from Sam, knowing that neither of us will be able to properly fight with my leaning against him. It doesn’t take long for us to destroy the Djinn, even with my weakened, still slightly drugged state. Sam helps me back to the Impala.

For once, I don’t oppose and argue as Sam holds his hand out for the keys. I toss them to him and slide into the passenger side of Baby. Sam gets in and cranks the engine.

“Burgers before we go back to the hotel?” Sam asks.

“No.” I mumble.

“No? Dean? Are you okay? Passing up a burger.”

“No. I need to see Y/N first. I have to tell her something.”

Sam nods. “Alright. Well, she’s at the motel room, waiting. So, we’ll get burgers and go back there.”

I nod and look out the window. Everything that happened while I was in the dream state from the Djinn’s poison floats through my head. And, I want something that every Hunter wants but rarely gets. A family. A shot at a normal life. And, I want it with Y/N. Even though I’ve been denying myself that for the last first years since I came across her on a hunt, I still want it.

And after that dream, the one that felt like reality, I want it even more. There’s no more denying, no more hiding, no more lying about the way I feel about Y/N. And I have to tell her. By the time Sam makes it back to the motel room, I’ve scarfed down one of the four burgers he got for me, and start feeling like myself again.

The moment he parks Baby, I’m out of the car and rushing into the motel. I bust into the room so quickly that Y/N nearly falls off the bed from jumping sky high. Hurrying over to her, I help her get steady on the bed again as I kneel in front of her. Taking her hands in mine, I look up at her.

“I’ve tried denying it. Tried hiding it. Tried lying about it. But I can’t do it anymore.” I start.

She looks at me confused. “Dean? What’s going on? Are you ok?”

I nod. “I will be. I just gotta tell you something.”

“Okay?”

I take a deep breath. “I love you, Y/N. And, I know this life, being a Hunter, ain’t exactly the easiest one to live when you love something. But, something happened and I realized I couldn’t fight it anymore. I had to tell you. Had to at least try. I love you. And, I want a shot at normal, or at least as normal as we can get. You. Me. A kid. Or four. I don’t care. I just want you. By my side. I got a brief taste of it, even if it wasn’t real and I crave it.”

Y/N’s eyes go wide and she opens and closes her mouth a few times. “You...you love me? THE Dean Winchester loves me?”

I nod, not taking my eyes off her as I swallow deeply. “I do. And I want the Apple Pie Life with you, Y/N.”

 Before I can get another word out, to tell her that it’s okay if she doesn’t want to say it now, or ever, she pulls her hands from mine and cups my cheeks and leans forward, pressing her lips to mine. I smile into the kiss and lean up towards her a little more, deepening it just a little, putting all of  my no longer hidden or denied love into it. 

As we kiss, something I’ve never felt before, a shock of purely happy energy courses through my body. When we slowly pull back, she rests her forehead against mine, keeping her hands on my cheeks.

“It’s ‘bout damn time you said that, Winchester. Only took you four years.” She whispers. “I was beginning to give up on ever hearing you say that, and the chance for me to say it back.”

“Say it back?” I whisper.

She giggles. “Such a bull-headed man sometimes, Winchester. Yes. Say it back. I love you too.”

I grin from ear to ear and kiss her again. Pie has always been my favorite thing in life, and I want the Apple Pie Life. I need it. And, I need the Apple Pie Life with Y/N.

[justcafewriter]

Bittersweet

pairing : Oda Sakunosuke x Reader

genre : a mix of fluff and angst (only a little bit of angst i guess ^^;)

warning : contain death

prompt : roasting sweet potato

summary : a bittersweet memory always find its way to you whenever winter come

word count : 2.4K

a/n : another story from a different prompt for the 12 days of cheer collab. the general idea was to have Makoto as the main character and fluff as the genre but I recently have Oda brainrot thanks to my dear friend, Clio :') so here we go.

The sound of your kitchen timer ringed loudly, making you swiftly walk to the kitchen and stop where the oven is and turn it off before you put on your kitchen gloves and open the oven's lid. The smell of roasted sweet potato filled your nostrils, a satisfactory smile appeared on your face as you're checking if it's properly roasted and it did. You look at the clock, it's now 9am and you just need to change your clothes before you're finally ready to go. 15 minutes later, you're already in your bestest outfit, a necklace with a home-shaped pendant decorating your outfit nicely, you're wearing a bit of makeup and let your hair loose. You look at your reflection, smiling as you think that you look the way someone you'll meet like.

After you put on your shoes, you're ready to go with a box of roasted potato in one hand and a bouquet of flowers that you've already arranged yourself in another. A mix of Pink Camelia, Pink Carnation, Red Chrysanthemum and Forget-Me-Not. You look at the bouquet in your hand before your eyes drift to the frames that's standing on the table not too far from the entrance of your apartment.

One of the frames contained a photo of a young man with reddish-brown hair, his azure eyes seemed so gentle as he was smiling happily. Another frame contained a photo of you and that young man, there's a little scribble on that photo saying "first date with Oda ♡". You smile upon seeing those photos, a warm feeling crept inside your heart as you see the smiles both of you wore in that sacred moment.

With a heavy sigh you finally get out from your apartment. The weather is not that nice but you can say that it's not bad either, especially since it's December now. As you're walking, you see a lot of people around, some busying themselves buying gifts for Christmas and you're giving note to yourself to not forget searching for one.

It doesn't take long until you finally arrive at your destination. You're walking toward a big tree and lay a small blanket before you sit on it. You're smiling as you see the one who you want to see resting there.

"I'm here, Oda." You whispered as a gentle smile appeared on your beautiful face. "And I bring roasted potatoes too!"

Suddenly, your mind traced on the first day he finally has courage to talk to you.

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7 years ago

You were eating your favorite curry at your favorite small shop like you usually do when suddenly a tall man with stubble came and asking for 'usual'. You look at his figure before you try to continue eating your food. Yes, try. Because the man who just came was also the reason why you keep coming back to the shop. He gave you this mysterious aura which told you to not get too close to him but also at the same time you drew to him and your eyes landed on nothing but him.

Silent filled the room, only the sound of the chef (also the owner) cooking could be heard when suddenly the man beside you asked, "How's the kids?" which was answered with, "Like usual." By the chef.

Again, silence filled the room. You try to continue to eat when suddenly the man beside you said, "Do you like sweet potatoes?" You paid him no mind since you thought that he was probably talking to the chef again but then you felt a pair of eyes looking at you, so you were looking at your right only to be watched by a pair of beautiful azure eyes. You tried your best to not spit on your food because you swear that the curry seems like entering the wrong hole.You tried to gulp down that damn curry before you sipped the cold water beside your plates.

"You're asking me?" You asked, looking at him with your doe eyes, you saw a tint of pink appear on his cheeks.

"Ah, sorry if I'm being rude and yes I was asking you." He said as he rubbed his hair.

"I.. I like sweet potatoes." You said again, you weren't lying, it's not like you love them by lots but you enjoy eating them.

"Good. So you wouldn't mind to join us later? If you have time of course." A sheepishly smile appeared on his face.

Your face brightened at the invitation, not gonna lie, you were so interested at this man so having him inviting you was something that you'd like to have.

"Well, what time is later?" You asked, no matter how happy you feel you need to play it cool.

"Uhm.. later as in after we finished our meal." He answered. "I heard a saying that said, 'women have another stomach for dessert'."

"Well it's very much true and I feel like I need to accept your invitation, especially if it's coming from a gentleman like you." You said and the moment you said it, that man knew that you were a very special person and he knew that you would change him in any way possible.

"My name is Oda Sakunosuke." That man said while stretching out his hand.

"My name is Y/N." You said, while gripping that man's hand. The moment his large hand wrapping yours, you knew that you couldn't escape to fall for him more deeply.

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"Y/N-san! Odasaku! come here, come here. Sakura has practiced her singing skill and she will sing for us!" Kousuke, the oldest kid of orphaned children who Oda adopted said as he was welcoming you and Oda. It has been a year since you were dating Oda and you've met the kids countless times so they already welcomed you like you're always belonged there. Oda never knew why he introduced the kids to you and told you that he adopted them all. Well, he knew why. He wanted to know how your reaction would be. He was glad when he saw that you were very much okay with him having kids despite he was only 21 years old at that time.

"Oh, Y/N-san! You brought a lot of sweet potatoes!" Another child named Katsumi said after he appeared from nowhere.

"Yes, I'm gonna make roasted sweet potatoes because Odasaku said that you guys like them and we couldn't enjoy them that much last year."

"Your roasted potatoes taste so delicious." The youngest kid, Sakura, said as she approached you. The rest of two kids also joined you and Oda while they were agreeing to what Sakura said.

"Okay, okay. Odasaku and I will clean the sweet potatoes before we roast them so you all can prepare things in the living room and clean it up a bit. You say you will help uncle right?" You said and all the kids accepting your guidance before they stormed into the living room.

"How can they listen to you so well?" Oda said once the kids left the kitchen as he approached you. He wrapped his hands around your waist before he inhaled your scent and put his lip close to your jawline before he kissed it, that gesture made you turn around so you were facing him and process to kiss his lips before saying, "It's a secret."

A laugh erupted from both of you. Oda then pulled you closer to him before he planted a kiss on your lips, a passionate one if you could tell. The kiss made your feet feel like jelly and your lips burned in sensation of his sweet, honey taste lips. His stubble roughly rubbed the skin around your mouth but it didn't give you any effect to pull away.

"Uhm!!" You heard someone try to disturb the moment you have with Oda so you broke the kiss only to find the oldest kid, Kousuke gave you a 'what-the-hell-are-you-doing' look. "Sorry to interrupt but the potatoes won't roast themselves aren't they?" He snickered.

You and Oda were stuttering as you both tried to reasoning your action. Fast forward, all the seven of you were already in the living room with a warm roasted potato on the table and warm green tea accompanied it.

You were listening to Sakura singing a Christmas song then after that you were just listening to the kids rumbling about their days before finally the show that the kid wanted to watch has started. It was suddenly quiet, you were sitting in the back with Oda sitting beside you and his hand was around your waist. You put your head on his shoulder as you also lingered your hands around his torso. Both of you sit there in silence, watching the kids immersed in the movie that they watched.

After the movie finished, you saw the kids were all sleeping. Oda then moved them one by one to their bedroom with you helping him by preparing their bed and tucked them once Oda put them on their bed. After you tucked the last kid, both of you look at the sight of five angelic kids sleeping figures and you couldn't help but feel the warmness inside your heart and you knew Oda felt the same because you felt a pair of strong arms lingering around your waist as he hugged you from behind.

"One day… One day we will move from this town, we'll move to another place near the beach, where the kids can run as far as possible, where the kids can enjoy much sunshine while they're playing outside, where they will have baby siblings and play with them and teach them one thing or two. I, I'm sorry for being so selfish but please bear with me a little more. I promise you everything will be better." You heard Oda say those words before he kissed your crown. You, on the other side felt your tears run down to your cheeks.You knew about his occupation yet you still accept him and love him with all your might. Mafia who doesn't kill. That was what his colleagues called him. And you knew the reason why, he told you about it, about his dream, about how he wanted to be a writer, how he wanted to have a house with a window facing the ocean as he wrote the continuation of his favorite book. He shared his dream with you, shared his obsession and you were very much so supporting to his idea.

"I will wait as much as possible if it's come to you. To the kids that I thought of my own. That's how much I love you, Oda." You whispered but it was loud enough for Oda to hear.

You felt Oda broke the hug before he asked you to close your eyes and you did. Suddenly you felt a cold metal at the crook of your neck, then he told you to open your eyes. The first thing you did was to look down and there you saw a necklace with a house-shaped pendant. You ask him what it was about and he told you that it was a token, a token to what he promised to you; the next stage of relationship.

You couldn't help but crying at his explanation, he was so shocked because that wasn't the reaction that he expected.

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It was less than a year when you heard news from Oda's friend, Dazai, that Oda was seriously injured. Your head was spinning like crazy and your heart was beating so fast it felt like it'd burst out from your body anytime. The time when you come to where Dazai told you, Oda was long gone, his body already cold and lifeless. That was when your world sinked into hell, when your heart broke into pieces it couldn't be repaired, when you couldn't even scream in pain as you saw a lifeless body that belonged to a man who you loved dearly.

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A single tear escapes from your eyes as you reminisce the memory of your now deceased fiance. You saw his name engraved on the tombstone in front of you before you put the bouquet that you bring on top of his grave. It has been 4 years since Oda left you, and you also learnt about the kids he adopted, that they were also already dead because they caught up in Oda's last mission. Another tears escapes and run down to your cheeks, you try to hold it because you already swore to only show Oda your happy side, to not make him worry when he's watching you from heaven above.

"It's okay to cry." You hear a familiar voice of Oda's friend, Dazai. "I bet that's what Oda would say to you." He says again as he's walking towards your direction.

You saw him holding a small bouquet of flowers.

"Zinnia. Thoughts of absent friends." You say as you look at the flower.

"Longing for you, I'll never forget you, I love you and True love memories." Dazai says after he placed his bouquet next to yours. "Odasaku was so lucky to meet you." He says again.

"Both of us are lucky to meet each other, but not lucky enough to be together in this life." You smile bitterly as you spit on your last words. The words are surely hurt and the reality you're facing now is surely cruel and Dazai knew what kind of hell you've been through after you learnt a sadistic truth 4 years ago, after you learnt the fact that you lost the most important person in your life.

"I still feel thankful that you live your life to your best, that you carry out Oda's dream and even you're doing more than he can do. You build an orphanage, you're taking care of unfortunate children and I'm sure Oda is gonna be proud of you." Dazai says as he pat your head, like a big bro he is.

"That's the only thing I can do." You say.

"It's getting cold now, let me take you home." Dazai offers and you decide that it's the time you need to go.

"Till then, Oda." You says before you rub his tombstone and accepting Dazai's offer to take your hand and walk with him, leaving a bittersweet memory behind you as you leave the cemeteries.

collab taglist: @animatedarchives @azxmii @yamaguchi-stan

[obxlife]

Cake and Buttercream (JJ x Reader)

A/N: This is the last request I have in my inbox and after this fic I’m going to start working on a project I have planned! Oh, and also, I’ll be writing more Kie and Pope fics too.

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word count: 3,729

Request: Hi lovely😊please may I request a JJXreader with them baking, including the whole works; J bein an impatient little shit and sneaking the food before it’s ready, food fights, kisses while being*covered*in flour which ends with reader shoving more food in his face(cue food fight pt2)? I feel like J wouldn’t really help at all like he’s more of the sit on the counter and claims that taste-testing the food *is* helping? Could the reader be a kook if possible, please? Well done on ur test by the way!😊

Summary: Basically what the request says. It’s pure fluff of JJ annoying the reader while she tries to bake

Warnings: I think swearing…? Tbh, it’s just a lot of fluff

CAKE AND BUTTERCREAM

The table that was in the middle of the kitchen of the Chateau was covered in ingredients for the cake you were making. You loved baking, and it just so happened that Pope’s birthday was around the corner, so you were making him a vanilla buttercream cake. You had enlisted Kie to make sure he didn’t come anywhere near the Chateau that afternoon because you wanted the cake to be a surprise. As you had explained to John B before, even though Pope knew you were going to be baking something for him, you didn’t want him to know what you were baking.

JJ had promised to help you, stating that he was a loving boyfriend and that he wanted to just chip in on the work. You, however, knew that he couldn’t afford to buy a gift for his friend, so you were letting him in on the present you had planned. You also knew that JJ was a sucker for bothering you while you baked, and you knew for a fact that he was going to make a mess as soon as he arrived. You wouldn’t have it any other way though. JJ made baking a lot more fun. 

You had just taken the bowl out of the top shelf when JJ tore open the door of the house and tumbled into the kitchen. He perched himself on top of the counter and smiled at you. He rubbed his hands together before saying, “Tell me what to do, chef!”

You rolled your eyes at his antics but the smile on your lips didn’t fade. “Start by washing your hands. And then put an apron on.”

JJ groaned but listened to your instructions. He knew how much baking Pope’s cake meant to you, and he knew you wanted it to be perfect, so he complied with your demands. 

After placing the apron above his head he noticed you had taken the brand new bag of flour from the table and began to pour two cups of it into the bowl in your hands. He wrapped his hands around your waist and kissed your temple, before sticking his hand into the bag of flour and scooping some up. JJ pressed his hand into your face just as you were adding the extra fourth of a cup of flour to your altered recipe. 

The flour in your boyfriend’s hand reached your face and created a cloud around you. Some of the flour reached JJ’s shoulder as he laughed at you, tumbling away from your possible wrath.

“JJ!” you shrieked while laughing. You grabbed some flour into your hands and threw it at the blond boy, after making sure the bowl you were working on was safe. JJ managed to dodge most of what you threw at him, but he quickly realized that he was defenseless against you. After all, the recently opened bag of flour was in your right hand. 

“Babe, baby,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. He approached you slowly, afraid you might throw more flour at him. “Let’s call a truce.”

You rolled your eyes once again but put the flour down in acceptance. “Fine. And don’t mess around until the batter is done and in the oven, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” JJ nodded, mock saluting you. “What do we have to add to the batter?”

“Give me the baking powder and the salt please.”

JJ obliged to your commands, grabbing both ingredients from the table behind you. In the meantime, you took a whisk from the first drawer under the stove and placed it in the bowl. You watched as JJ opened both of the ingredients, and then rubbed his hand on his cheek, leaving some flour upon it. You smiled and dusted it off making him turn towards you.

“What?”

“You have flour on your face.”

JJ smiled and leaned down to kiss you. Your flour-dusted hands came up to grab his face, smiling into the kiss. After breaking apart, you noticed you left even more flower upon his cheeks than before, you giggled as he wrapped his hands around your body. 

“If you think my face has flour, you should see yours,” JJ muttered as he brought out a teaspoon from another one of the Chateau’s many kitchen drawers. 

“Is it two teaspoons or two and a half teaspoons of baking powder?” he asked as he was already putting one of the teaspoons into the bowl.

“Two and one fourth,” you told him while taking out three-fourths of a teaspoon of salt and placing it in the bowl. Once JJ added the correct amount of baking powder, you commanded him to whisk it all together. You took out another bowl to begin working on the rest of the ingredients. 

You grabbed onto the mixer that was placed on the table and put the paddle attachments in before plugging it into the wall. Then you took the soft butter (which you had left out all morning) and took three-fourths of a cup of it. You tossed that into the bowl before you and added a cup and a half of white granulated sugar. You began to mix them together with the mixer, causing JJ to whine that the noise was too loud and that he was tired of whisking the dry ingredients.

JJ dropped the utensil in his hand into the bowl and plugged his ears, hopping up on the counter for the second time that afternoon. His fingers were still in his ears as he watched you blend the ingredients together until they looked pale and fluffy. JJ wanted to stick his finger in and get a taste because it looked amazing, but he knew you would slap his hand away. So, just as you turned to grab the eggs, your boyfriend stuck his finger deep into the butter and sugar mix, sticking it in his mouth before you could turn around. 

You were holding the carton in your hands when you turned to see JJ licking his finger clean, and you playfully glared at him. 

“J, please let me finish the batter before you go sticking your finger in it.”

The boy smiled and hopped off from where he was, knowing that for the next part of the recipe you would need his help. 

As you always did when working together, JJ grabbed the mixer and placed its speed on low while you cracked three of the largest eggs into the bowl. You let them drop one at a time, making sure JJ completely mixed it into the rest of the ingredients before adding another. Once you finished with the eggs you placed the carton back onto the table. Grabbing onto the vanilla extract, you poured one and a half teaspoons into the bowl JJ was still mixing.

“My arm’s tired!” he began to whine. You sighed. JJ always did this when he was the one mixing the ingredients together. It always happened after he had been holding onto the mixer for around five minutes, and would complain. He somehow always managed to convince you to take over so that he could rest.

“Can you please take over for me, Y/N?” he tried to sweet talk you. It worked. Always.

“You’re such a baby!” you exclaimed as you took the mixer from his hands. JJ made a show out of shaking his arm, whining about how it felt like it was going to fall off. You knew he would soon begin to complain about how long of a process it was to make a cake. 

“J, I need you to help me by adding the dry ingredients and the cup of buttermilk. But alternate them, please! I know you always forget to do that.”

JJ opened the buttermilk and approached the bowl you were working on. He began to add a little bit of the dry ingredients and then he added some buttermilk. He continued to do this until you noticed he was adding too much of the flour all at once.

“J!”

He put the bowl down and looked at you as if you had startled him. He latched onto the buttermilk and began to add it to the mix while softly pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Sorry, I got distracted. You’re just too cute.”

Even though you and JJ had been dating for almost a year, you still blushed whenever he complimented you. So you weren’t surprised when your cheeks heated up at what he had just said. JJ smirked, knowing he still caused you to blush made him feel good about himself. You would always joke around and tell him he was just cocky.

Just as you were about to turn off the mixer, JJ said, “Why does this take so long?” You laughed, knowing that your previous predictions were right. You turned the machine off and placed a kiss to his lips, before saying, “We’re done with the batter.”

JJ tried to hold onto your waist and pull you into another flour-y kiss (you both hadn’t dusted off from before) but your hands pressed against his chest and went to latch onto the pan. Before dumping the mix into the pan, you dipped your finger in it and turned towards JJ.

“Want to try it?”

JJ nodded his head eagerly and closed his lips around your finger, enjoying the sweet taste of it. Then you turned to the counter again, and after buttering the pan, you let JJ dump all of the batter into it with the help of a spatula. You then placed it into the preheated oven, knowing you had thirty to thirty-five minutes to make the buttercream that was going to cover the cake. 

You grabbed all of the bowls you had used and put them inside of the sink, letting some water run over them before closing the tap. You would wash them later. You turned, looking for the spatula before realizing that JJ was licking it off. You giggled at him before raiding the kitchen to find another bowl. 

Once you did so, you grabbed onto the carton of eggs again and placed it next to the bowl. 

“JJ, can you bring me the trash can?” you asked your boyfriend. He did as he was told while you were cracking the first egg, not letting the yolk fall into the bowl.

“How do you do that?” JJ asked, curiosity lacing his voice. You laughed at him for the millionth time that day, and he blushed, a little embarrassed at his question. 

“When you crack the egg, you have to tilt it a bit so that the yolk doesn’t fall into the bowl. But since we want to get the most amount of egg white for the buttercream, we have to pass the yolk between the shells so that more of the white can drip down. See?”

As you spoke you were doing what you were explaining, knowing that JJ was a visual learner and was going to try to do it for himself. 

“Can I try?” he asked you. 

“Yeah, but get me a little Tupperware so that I can put the eggs yolks in.”

Following your orders, JJ fetched a little recipient to place the yolks and then grabbed onto an egg himself. You helped him through the process, instructing him on what to do and placing your hands over his if necessary. You liked how his tongue was sticking out of the side of his mouth in concentration, and you noticed that his brow was furrowed. You placed a kiss to his cheek as he dropped the shells into the trash and grabbed onto another egg. 

As he got through the eggs, which you told him had to be six in total, you grabbed onto the sugar and poured another cup and a half of it. You dumped that into the bowl as JJ was finishing with his last egg, and then you grabbed the mixer and began to blend the ingredients together. JJ wrapped his hands around your body as you worked, pressing soft kisses to the side of your face and your neck and letting his face rest on the crook of your shoulder. He liked watching you work and bake. It calmed him down, for some odd reason, so he tried to bake with you whenever he could.

When the mix was almost ready, you passed the mixer to JJ, ordering him not to stop. Then, you grabbed a pot and put about two inches of water in it, placing it above the stove and lighting a small flame beneath it. Once the water was simmering, you told JJ to stop mixing and bring the bowl to you. You placed it in the water and took the whisk that was on the counter. 

JJ watched as you mixed the eggs and the sugar until it was no longer grainy. He noticed how you had forgotten to place your candy thermometer in the bowl, and turned to get it from the kitchen. He had already seen you do buttercream so many times he was sure he knew the recipe by heart. He found the thermometer between the bag of flour and the bag of baking powder, grabbing it before thinking if he should throw more flour at you. 

Probably not a good idea right now, he told himself. JJ turned and placed the thermometer in the bowl, causing you to throw him a thankful glance. When the thermometer reached 160 ℉, you removed the bowl from the pot and began to mix the ingredients with the whisk until the meringue was stiff. 

“J, can you please turn the stove off?”

The blond followed through with your instructions. You then passed him the whisk and turned to cut some butter into cubes. Once you had two cups of that, you took the whisk in JJ’s hands and replaced it with the mixer. JJ groaned, knowing it was his time to mix, but you didn’t listen as you began to add the small cubes of butter into the bowl. Once you were done, JJ’s groaning had become so annoying that you replaced him behind the mixer, while asking if he could pour two teaspoons of vanilla extract into the bowl.

“This is taking so long,” he told you once he had finished helping. You continued whipping the mixture together, trying to make it smooth. “Why does it take so long?”

You sighed. “Good things take time, J.”

The blond only groaned louder. “That’s what you always say.”

“That’s because it’s true. Take us, for example.”

It was true. JJ was the best thing to happen to you, but it had taken you both two full years before you got together. There was a lot of denying feelings, jealousy, and crying during that time, but it led to the best thing that had ever happened to you. And to him as well.

“That is true,” JJ smirked while coming close to you again. You let him hug you to him, pressing your back into his chest just as you finished mixing. You unplugged the machine and turned in JJ’s arms so that you were facing him. 

“We’re almost done,” you whispered to him before pressing your lips to his. Just as you were getting into the kiss, you felt him dump a bunch of flour on top of you. 

Shooting your eyes open, you yelled, “JJ!” before grabbing some flour in your owns hands and pressing it against his face. He coughed a little but smiled, reaching for the carton of eggs. You knew this was going to lead to one of your classic food fights, and as much as you wanted to have fun with JJ, you needed to finish Pope’s cake.

“Babe, stop!” you pleaded, covering your head with your arms. “Let’s finish the cake first, please!”

JJ put the eggs down and scooped you up in his arms, smirking at your reaction. “It’s only two in the afternoon and you’re already begging.”

You smacked him on the chest before smiling. You turned to look at the table and saw the food coloring you brought. “What do you think we should draw on Pope’s cake?”

JJ pretended to think for a second before deadpanning, “A scholarship paper.”

This cost him another smack on the chest from you. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Okay, JJ, while you think of a real answer to my questions, let me take the cake out from the oven.”

As JJ began to think of what Pope may like, you began to cut the cake in half, creating two layers for the future cake. Then, you evened the top out and grabbed the platter where you were going to place it. You added a little buttercream to the bottom of the platter and placed the first layer on. Then, you grabbed a larger blob of buttercream and spread it out before placing the second layer on top. You began to work on the crumb coat while JJ remained quiet, still thinking about what Pope may like. 

You placed the cake into the fridge. You had to let it chill for twenty minutes before decorating it, so you decided you could begin washing the bowls and spoons you had used to make the cake. 

“How about we give it a cool design and make it look like marble?” JJ offered, knowing you were good at doing that. You nodded.

“But what about the top of the cake? I was thinking of drawing something on it.”

“How about we just write ‘Happy Birthday Pope’? He won’t care much about a drawing, really. Well, unless the drawing is Kie, he won’t care about it.”

You laughed as you began to raid the kitchen again. This time, you were looking for three smaller bowls and one bowl that was medium-sized. Once you had all of them, you separated a bit of buttercream into each one, leaving the largest amount of buttercream white. In the other bowls, you placed red dye, green dye, blue dye, and yellow dye. You began to mix them as JJ helped you, only catching the blond slipping his finger into the buttercream twice. You had smacked his hand away both times. 

JJ then sat back as you began to work on decorating the cake, admiring you from afar. He noticed how you were fussing under your breath about your baby hairs and trying to pull them back. He noticed how you seemed to bite your lips while you concentrated, he noticed how your eyes would scan every ridge of the cake while you tried to even it out. He noticed how your hands looked big while working with the small bags of icing but how they looked small while working with the larger ones.

This was why JJ liked helping you around the kitchen. He felt like your demeanor and ethic while working were calming, and he noticed things he had never noticed about you before. He liked watching you concentrate and dedicate your time to something as trivial as a cake, knowing that you did so because of the love you had for the person whose cake you were doing. And most of all, he enjoyed being with you. Deep down, JJ knew that you didn’t need any help in the kitchen and that you let him help only because he asked you to. You would make space for him to work even through his whining and complaining (although he mostly did that to rile you up).

“Hey,” JJ called out to you just as you placed the cake in the fridge again. “I love you.”

You would never get over the fact that JJ loved you. It was just baffling to you that someone like him, fun and charming and amazing, could love someone like you, small and boring and not much compared to other girls.

“I love you, too,” you told him as you took a seat on his lap. He wrapped his hands around your waist and dusted off the flour from your face. It was still there even an hour after he had thrown it at you. You both leaned in, kissing each other with passion and love. You melted into his arms, loving how they felt around you, his thumb brushing against the skin right above the hem of your shorts. Your hands were pressed against his chest, one of them playing with the shark-tooth necklace that was around his neck. 

All of a sudden, you felt something crash against your head before a slimy liquid was dripping down the front of your face. 

“JJ!” you shrieked realizing that he had cracked an egg over your head. He laughed as he tried to wipe the liquid off from your face. In anger, you grabbed onto whatever ingredient you had bought and threw it on him. The bottle of vanilla extract was open, luckily for you, and you drenched your boyfriend’s chest with it. 

He pretended to be mad but laughed as he grabbed onto the sugar and the flour and threw it upon you. However, he was still underneath you, which meant that all of the ingredients he had poured on you were falling on top of him as well. 

Your food fight continued for only a few more minutes, only stopping when you realized how dirty the floor of the Chateau was.

“We should clean up,” you muttered to JJ. He whined and leaned forward to kiss you again, not wanting to move at all. You smiled softly into the kissed and pushed your boyfriend back. 

“C’mon,” you told him while standing up. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

As you turned towards the bathroom and turned the water on, you looked back to JJ. He had a broom in his hand and was sweeping the floor. 

“I thought I said ‘let’s get cleaned up’.”

JJ only tuned towards you, confusion dancing around in the pool of his eyes. 

“Do I have to spell it out? I want to take a shower with you!”

JJ’s eyes widened, dropping the broom and almost falling down as he tried to make his way to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and pressed you against the counter. 

You spent much more time in the shower than you did cleaning up the kitchen.

[ofmermaidsandmarauders]

stolen dreams took our childish days chapter 4

Read on AO3 or FFN

March 2020

Fergus was playing in the yard when he heard the yelling. He was allowed to play outside when Jamie was home and cooking dinner because the man could watch him from the kitchen windows. He had seen Claire’s car pull up a few minutes ago and was surprised by the noise inside. His body tensed when he heard the smashing of glass. It was only then that Fergus realized it wasn’t the excited kind of yelling that the couple usually did. No, this was angry. He sank to the ground, clutching his knees to his chest. He just knew that at one point they would crack.

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“You can’t just make these decisions without me, Jamie Fraser! I am your wife. That means your partner!” “Aye, I ken fine well what ye are, Sassenach. And I am entitled to purchasing what I damn well please wi’ my salary. You canna tell me what I can and canna buy!” Jamie knew that his argument was weak, but he was refusing to back down as he had just been trying to do something nice.

In hindsight, Jamie should have consulted with Claire before renting a beach house for an upcoming weekend. He knew that she would likely have it off work and thought it would be a fun way for them to celebrate the upcoming holiday. It would be the last one before Fergus had to finish out the school year with no breaks. He thought the lad would enjoy the open air and sand beneath his toes. He also thought Claire would enjoy the break, but he was apparently wrong.

“You better be fucking joking! I know you don’t truly believe that you don’t have to consult me on this type of spending! We have bills to pay, Fergus is going to need summer clothes, your car is up for inspection soon! Jesus Christ, sometimes I think you truly are daft!” Claire’s words spat out at him, dripping with vitriol.

“Daft? Daft? I’m just trying to make sure the lad has some good memories! Excuse me for tryin’ tae give him some fun! You’re always fecking workin’! I thought it would be a nice time for us to bond but I guess no’!” Jamie froze as the accusation came out of his mouth. Claire worked hard and that was something he had never pushed her on. In fact, Jamie wanted Claire to work. She was a skilled surgeon, and he knew that it was her passion. She was made to heal others. It was the reason he agreed to take on fewer responsibilities at work; he wanted Claire to have the career and family she dreamed of. “Sassenach, ye ken I didna mean what I said.”

“No, just… No.” Claire held up her hand, stopping him from apologizing. She left the kitchen without another word, shutting and locking the bedroom door. Taking some space from Jamie would be good. They had both said harsh things that they didn’t mean, but it didn’t make the words hurt any less. In fact, it hurt more knowing it was said with that exact intention in mind.

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Jamie looked around the kitchen trying to figure out what exactly had just happened. One minute he was surprising Claire with a relaxing long weekend away with their foster son, the next they were screaming at one another and she was storming out.

He knew he needed to find a way to apologize. He would respect her request for space and then deal with things later. For now, he had a child to feed. Jamie checked on the chicken that was roasting in the oven before grabbing the glass he had been drinking from. He peered around the kitchen before sneaking over to the liquor cabinet, refilling his tumbler. As he went to shut and lock it once again, the glass slipped from his hand and shattered against the white tile.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, the shards flying everywhere. Glancing at his arm, Jamie felt a sting and recognized that one of them must have pierced his skin, the whiskey causing it to burn more than it should have. He set about cleaning up the mess before taking a peek out of the window to see Fergus pressing his curled body against the trunk of the tree. Finding it odd, Jamie excused the behavior as the oven’s timer dinged. He could ask questions later.

Calling the young boy in for dinner, Jamie went to the bedroom and let Claire know their food was ready. He gathered a plate for himself and Fergus, allowing Claire to prepare her own if she chose to join them.

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Fergus appeared timid as he climbed into his seat, looking between Jamie and the hallway. When Claire came out a short time later, her face clean and hair washed from a recent shower, Fergus noted that her eyes were glassy. He had seen that with his own mother on plenty of occasions. A fresh shower to hide her tears and remove any traces of scratches or odd marks.

His eyes slowly raked over Claire’s body, inspecting her for any cuts or abrasions. He didn’t see any, but she had put on a sweater and some pajama shorts. She could be hiding them beneath her sleeves.

The couple was silent as they ate, directing any questions at Fergus. He answered them easily, though it felt like he was on edge the entire time he ate. His stomach was twisted into knots and he was afraid that he was going to throw up if he forced himself to consume much more.

After a few minutes of tension, Jamie’s face lit up as if he had suddenly remembered something.

“I saw ye outside earlier, by the tree? Was everythin’ alright?” Fergus was trying to remember the moment that Jamie was talking about, but it quickly dawned on him that it was when Claire and Jamie had been arguing, and he had gripped onto the nearest thing. It was something one of the counselors taught him to do when he felt his body start to get nervous: lean against the nearest wall or door, close his eyes, and focus on his breathing. He wished that they gave him ideas that actually helped.

“Oh, I was just playing a game,” Fergus answered lamely, not sure that Jamie would believe the lie. Jamie studied his face for a moment, but didn’t push him on the excuse.

“Fergus, what’s the matter, lad? You gobbled up yer afternoon snack, I expected ye to devour yer meal,” Jamie commented with an arched eyebrow. Fergus peered down at his plate for a moment before spearing a piece of chicken onto his fork.

“I guess I’m just not that hungry. Sorry, Jamie,” he apologized, forcing himself to chew and swallow the small piece on his utensil.

“No need to apologize, lad. Jus’ finish what ye can and we can wrap up the rest.�� Dinner was silent after that, Fergus’ ability to eat diminishing with each moment that Jamie and Claire ignored one another. He slunk away from the table toward his bedroom once he was finished, pausing in the hallway to eavesdrop on the adults. He couldn’t hear their exact words, but he knew they were arguing back and forth again. He lost track of how long he was standing in the hallway, their voices muffled by the walls and their movements. It got suddenly silent and he froze. Fergus could feel his pulse throbbing in his ears, heart pounding. He wasn’t sure how to make himself calm down. His breathing came faster as he heard a clattering and bolted toward the kitchen once more. Fergus knew that sound; it was a common occurrence when Adam launched something at his mother.

“Don’t touch her!” he screamed, launching himself at Jamie, his tiny fists curled up and pounding into Jamie’s back before he even knew what was happening.

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“Are we going to discuss the issue at hand?” Claire asked Jamie coldly, her arms crossed over her chest.

“You ken fine well what ye’re doing, Sassenach. Crossing yer arms over yer chest in that way!” he accused, jabbing his index finger in her direction. She gave a glance down at her chest, a smirk appearing on her lips as she stepped closer to him.

“And what about it? Afraid I’ll convince you to cancel your major rental with my womanly ways?”

“Aye, and I damn well willna be canceling the rental! ‘Tis two months away and that is plenty of time tae get everything in order tae go on a trip!” Jamie was becoming flustered and took a deep breath before placing both of his hands on her upper arms. The only way this was going to get better was if he took the opportunity to apologize. “I hope ye know how verra sorry I am, mo chridhe. I wanted to do something kind. I apologize for what I said earlier. I was sore, ye ken?”

“Aye,” Claire teased as she leaned her forehead into his neck. “I’m sorry, too, Jamie. I didn’t mean what I said. I know you just wanted to give us a nice surprise. It’s a very sweet gesture.”

“Next time I’ll be sure to discuss it wi’ ye before making any grand gestures.” Jamie wrapped his arms around Claire’s waist, lifting her onto the table. Her foot caught around one of the legs of the chair and knocked it to the ground as he leaned forward to give her a kiss. Her lips moved in time with his own, hands settling against his large shoulder blades. Jamie suddenly stopped kissing her, confusion on his features.

“Wh-?” Claire’s question trailed off as she watched Fergus burst into the room. His cheeks were splotchy and his eyes were welled up as he began to punch his fists into Jamie’s thigh and back.

“Whoa!” Jamie exclaimed, grabbing Fergus’ arms to get him to stop hitting him. “What in the devil?!”

“Don’t you dare hit Claire!” Fergus screamed, trying to wrench his body away from Jamie’s. Claire sat on the table, stunned by his outburst. Jamie let out a soft chuckle at first, then let go of Fergus when the boy finally stopped jerking himself around.

“Did ye think I was hurting Claire? Och, no. Only kissin’ my wife,” Jamie explained, letting Fergus look at Claire for confirmation, at which she nodded.

“I knocked over the chair with my foot, that’s all. Jamie would never hurt me.” Claire hopped off of the table to right the chair before taking a seat in it, pulling Fergus close to her. She let him gather his thoughts before lifting him into her lap. “We did fight, yes, but we would never lay a hand on one another other than out of kindness and love. I need you to understand that, Fergus.”

He nodded solemnly, resting one hand on Claire’s arm, the other holding onto her hand. Jamie squatted so that he would be level with Fergus, his knees creaking as he bent.

“I hope ye ken I wouldna ever lay a hand on Claire out of anger or pain. Nor would I lay a hand on ye, lad. ‘Tis important that ye ken I care for ye as my own and wouldna want to see ye in pain.” His words were soft and he lifted a large hand to smooth back Fergus’ curls from his face. The boy looked calmer now and gulped before allowing himself to speak.

“C-can I have a glass of water?” he asked quietly, now feeling silly for his reaction. Jamie noted his expression but nodded, getting him the water as requested.

“I hope ye feel safe here, Fergus. I canna imagine how scared ye were and what ye have seen before,” Jamie spoke soothingly, letting his hands rest on Fergus’ skinny legs. “Claire and I just want to see ye safe and happy.”

“Oh,” Fergus exhaled, his eyes welling up with tears again. “Adam used to… he would fight with my mama and I would hear yelling and banging. I could never stop him.” His shoulders shook as he began to weep, leaning against Claire for comfort.

She looked at Jamie frantically, though her arms automatically wound around his small frame. She had no experience with children and was only hoping that she was doing this right.

“It’s alright, hush now. You have no need to be scared of us. We’re going to keep you safe,” she whispered before remembering she was not supposed to make promises she couldn’t keep. For a moment she felt guilty before another thought popped into her head. Fuck that. Holding Fergus in her arms, his body shaking with fear and tears, Claire knew she would go to the ends of the Earth to protect this small boy from any person or thing that threatened to harm him.

Her own eyelids brimmed with tears as she felt a fierce need to keep him safe and see his tears end. Giving a quick look at Jamie, Claire saw that he had a wide grin on his face. It was the same look he had worn when she graduated with her medical degree and could begin practicing medicine at the hospital. That was his “proud” smile, he had told her later that night when she commented on it. She couldn’t help but smile back at him for a brief moment when she realized that he was smiling like that because he was proud of her maternal instincts.

“It will all be alright. He canna hurt ye anymore,” Jamie whispered before pressing a kiss to both Fergus’ and Claire’s hair. He knew how Claire felt because he felt it as well. He would do anything to protect this little family they had built together.