#the son was going back there and TOSSING all of it into OUR backyard and my grandpa got so mad he yelled at him and they threatened to call

[604to647]

Take It Off (a Strawberry Shortcake Super Bowl drabble)

1K / Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Summary: You host Frankie and the TF boys for The Big Game and are given a choice of which team's jersey to wear.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI pls). Established relationship, nicknames per usual (Shortcake, baby), oral (f!receiving), fingering, wee bit o' dirty talk, one (1) "daddy". Taylor Swift songs.

A/N: I cannot express just how much I do not care about The Big Game 😂, but just like last year, I wrote a Super Bowl drabble while the family watches football 🤗 This is our Strawberry Shortcake couple, but you don't have to read it (all you need to know is that Valentina is Frankie's daughter, Raynor is Reader's son and they're best friends). Apologies for this being barely edited - I'm trying to feign some interest as to what's happening on the field 🤭 Go Sports!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

🎶So take a look what you've done

'Cause baby, now we got bad blood (hey!)🎶

Giggling, hands still soapy, you lean away from the kitchen sink so you can watch the musical performance taking place in your living room. 

Frankie and his friends are watching Superbowl LIX at your house, and Uncles Santi, Will and Benny have been doing an admirable job entertaining two overly excited six-year-olds during the pre-game.  First up: the Puppy Bowl; cute, but the show inspired increasingly desperate, renewed pleas from Valentina for a dog.  When Raynor threw in his own puppy dog eyes to aid his best friend, Frankie, knowing he was in danger, had to hastily switch the channel.  After that came a rousing American football lesson using toys found around your living room – the whole thing almost ended up in a Miller brothers fight when Will’s Lego Elsa quarterback got sacked by Benny’s Beyblade before his Jellycat offensive linemen were set up.

The remedy was an impromptu Taylor Swift concert, with each Delta Force boy headlining his Era of choice - Raynor and Valentina their enthusiastic backup dancers.  Right now, Uncle Santi is in his 1989 era, twirling the kids around your living room with aplomb.

“You’re driving me crazy with that jersey, Shortcake,” growls the dangerous baritone kissing down the back of your neck.

Turning back to the dishes you want to get done before the game, you chuckle. Frankie looks more than adorable, pouting in his team colours, decked out in Chief’s gear – even his usual Standard Oil cap has been replaced by a bright red snapback.  Showing up with a coordinating Santi and Valentina, he brought both you and your son matching jerseys; Raynor donned his happily, eager to match with his best friend.  You on the other hand, are wearing a green Eagles jersey, matching the ones Benny and Will have on; with very little interest in the NFL, and even less loyalty to any particular team – you couldn’t say no to Benny when he held out the Philadelphia gear, pouting about being outnumbered.  The apologetic look you gave Frankie as you slipped into the green top did not prevent him from shooting back a (somewhat) joking look of disgust.

Frankie’s hands grip your hips, tightening over the jersey material as if to change its colours through force; playfully you wiggle back into his hold, “Maybe that’s why I agreed to wear it, Francisco.  So you’d rip it off of me later.”

“You’re trouble, baby.”

As if on cue, Will’s Red Era warble screeches into the kitchen:

🎶I knew you were trouble when you walked in

So, shame on me now🎶

Laughing, Frankie helps you with the dishes, the two of you finish in time to give Will and the kids a well-deserved round of applause as they close out the song, belting 🎶TROUBLE🎶 in canon.

“Going outside to throw the ole pigskin around before the game,” chirps Benny, tossing the football to Santi before scooping up a kid under each arm and heading for your backyard to a chorus of masculine whoops and high pitched first grader squeals and giggles.

“Not you, Trouble,” a hand pulls you back and towards your bedroom.

“Frankie!” you gasp, flushed and squirming when that same hand pushes you onto your bed after locking the door.

“Forget later, you’re gonna take that damn jersey off NOW,” snarls Frankie, dropping unceremoniously to his knees, bear paw hands roughly pulling down your leggings along with your underwear – he helps you kick them off before using those same big mitts to spread you wide.

The last thing you hear before throwing your head back against your mattress in a pleasure-soaked whine is something about how this cunt is the tastiest thing on tonight’s menu.

Frankie slurps and laps at your pussy like a man possessed, as if ravaging your cunt is his own personal contribution to his favourite team’s chances of winning tonight.  You try to muffle your cries of ecstasy as your boyfriend positively feasts, talented tongue dancing and dipping between your folds, face fully buried in his own personal heaven.  When two thick fingers breach your entrance and curl, you’re already closer that you thought possible – panting, you knock the red cap off Frankie’s head and fist his soft brown curls, “Frankie!  Fuck, baby… I’m so close!  Please, I’m so cl-“

The bastard slows down and pulls his mouth away.

Your head snaps up, death glare that could make a pro linebacker quake in his cleats aimed at the man between your legs.

“Say you’ll take off the Eagles jersey…”

“Francisco!!”

“… and wear MY jersey and I’ll let you come, Shortcake.”

Desperate, you nod frantically at the man who’s still sawing his fingers in and out of your cunt at an agonizing slow pace, “Yes, daddy, anything you say.”

“Good girl,” Frankie purrs as he resumes his previous pace, hefty digits thrusting through the glide of your dripping arousal – your body arches as you’re thrown back onto your bed with the force of Frankie’s conquest.  Strong aquiline nose nuzzling your throbbing clit, Frankie chuckles low at your mindless whinnying; he lays a soft, pitying kiss to your crying nub before latching on and sucking. 

You explode.

---

When the kids, Santi, Will and Benny come back in for kick-off, you’re just tipping a Wing Pit bucket of wings onto a plate to add to the spread – now wearing a bright red jersey.

“Awww, no fair,” whines Benny, grabbing a plate to load up, “you changed.”

“Sorry, Ben,” you grin with a happy shrug, “Frankie convinced me.”  Frankie stands right behind you, arm wrapped possessively around your waist, one large hand splayed wide over the bright Chiefs colours you’re now sporting, the other holding a chicken drumette – his BBQ-stained mouth stretched wide with a shit-eating grin.

Will walks by on his way to the pizza boxes, hand coming up to smack Frankie on the head, “Cripes, Fish – you’re such a messy eater.” You nearly drop the bowl of dip you’re holding as you choke at Will’s words and Frankie’s belly shaking laugh of a response, “Can’t help it, menu’s tasty tonight.”

Thank you for reading! If you like stories where Pbois eat out their ladies while professional sports is being played, perhaps you may enjoy Hat Trick Part 2 (The Playoffs) 🏒🤭

[dracoxsworld]

ARRANGED - “Take care of you” - Draco M. X Reader - PART 6

Draco was very busy the next couple of days. He went off looking for a new house for you both to live in. He insisted you be apart of the process, but you wanted to stay home instead. The idea of you living on your own officially slightly stressed you out.

You had always been provided things you needed; not that you doubted Draco couldn’t/wouldn’t provide for you, but things would be a lot more different now. Your mind was still mixed up after all that had happened; you’ve felt completely left behind in life, you felt like you were a background character in your own movie.

You and Draco got rid of all of the things that reminded you of Nicholas. Including a Daily Prophet snippet:

The Daily Prophet

Nicholas Heckons, a past lover of Y/N Malfoy speaks out against her current husband, Draco Malfoy. He claims she’s “brainwashed” and “manipulated”.

He also claims Malfoy is “violent” and “short-tempered” also very controlling of Y/N. Here’s the latest word.

“I feel bad for them both really, Y/N, stupid and naive. Draco will have to get used to that soon, really,” Nicholas Heckons stated to our press.

“I suppose they’re each others perfect match, I’ve tried to convince Y/N that Draco is a load of rubbish, but of course, she cheated on me with him. I wouldn’t expect her to listen to me.” claimed Heckons.

Well there you have it, folks. Are Draco and Y/N a match made in Heaven; or Hell?

“Bloody Git.” Draco mumbled to himself, trashing the magical moving newspaper into a trash bag.

“Don’t sweat it. He’s probably embarrassed.” You shrugged, tossing an old Quidditch jersey of Nicholas’. "It's bullshit. He's a load of bullshit." Draco swore. You walked over to him, crouching to his level, as he was sitting on the floor. You ran your hands through his hair, and smiled at him.

All the anger seemed to slip away from him, he smiled, too.

"You never told me if you found a new house," You stated to Draco. His eyes lit up again, and he took your hand and stood up, pulling you up with him. "I wanted to show you, Y/N. I know you say this stuff causes some stress, but I found one I've fallen in love with, I just want you to be in love with it, too." Draco confessed. You took a deep breath, and looked at him. You nodded. "Well, let's see."

Draco's hands quickly shot down to your waist, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, "Dray!" You gasped from surprise. You could hear his charming laughter. He walked with you over his shoulder to the bedroom door, where he set you down. He motioned for you to go out to the hallway of the manor, you both walked down the stairs and out to the entryway.

One of the employees of Lucius’ stops you both. His dark smile creeps on his pale boney face. “And where will you two be off to?” He croaks.

“We’re looking at the home I’ve picked.” Draco said sternly.

"How do I know you and this blood traitor aren't planning another escape?" The guard asked.

"Are you using your brain? Father has told you all to back off, we've gained his trust," Draco scoffed. The guard balled his fists in anger. "Now, do we have a problem, or do I need to get my father?"

The guard rolled his eyes, and stepped aside. "I am keeping my eye on you, Malfoy."

"That's Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy to you." Draco spat, as he took your hand and drag out out the front door. You finally could take a deep breath.

"That son of a bitch. We've travelled without guards before, what the hell was he thinking?" Draco huffed. "I'm not sure Dray," You sighed. Draco smiled down at you as you walked towards the Manor's extravagant gate. "I love it when you call me that."

You and Draco had apparated to the new home he had picked. It was gorgeous, made entirely out of brick, just like the Malfoy Manor. There was a tall, dark green fence surrounding the home, a large front yard, perfect to decorate with lush landscape, like large trees and bushes. You assumed there'd be a large backyard as well, you already dreamed of having a perfect garden, like Narcissa's. Draco could have all the flowers he wanted.

"What do you think?" Draco asked, smirking down at you, admiring the view as well. "Draco, it's- it's perfect." You voiced. "I mean, we could really build a life here, what did your father think?"

Draco shrugged, his hands in his pockets, looking at the greying-clouds. It smelled like rain. "He didn't react much, I am not even sure why he accompanies me." He admitted. You looked up at him, with affection in your eyes. Draco had clearly lacked a healthy father figure; and he's coming to terms with it and unfortunately, dealing with the aftermath.

When you're a kid, you tend to not notice things you are missing in your childhood. Thing's that are essential, almost nourishing for your growth emotionally. Draco was thrown to be in the Dark Lord's army at such a young age; even before that, forced under beliefs that might've not been his natural and true mindset. These were things you wished you'd realized before. He has a thick wall surrounding him; as thick and protective as it might seem, it didn't take much for it to melt away like ice. His silver eyes were glassy, he seemed stressed. You were hoping moving into your own home; just you and him may help his uneasiness.

"He may just miss having you around," You alluded; not sounding entirely truthful. Draco scoffed. You bit your bottom lip, but he laughed light heartedly. You laughed too, to avoid awkwardness.

"Unfortunately, a family is still moving out, we can't see the inside." Draco said gloomily. You could tell he cherished this home; and you did as well. It was just a waiting game. "Shall we go back to the Manor?" He proposed. You smiled and interlinked your arm in his and nodded. You both apparated back to the Manor.

-

You both walked into the Manor from door to find Lucius and Narcissa talking. They seemed very grave. Lucius looked at you and Draco, with a destructive look in his eyes. "Father." Draco greeted without emotion. "Draco. I've heard from one of my guards you have some sort of, oh; what should I say, Narcissa? Attitude problem?" Lucius recollected. Draco inhaled. "He is the one who gave us a problem." You spoke up. Draco's head snapped in your direction, his arm guided you to be behind him. You reluctantly obliged.

"Bark and no bite, Ms. Y/N?" Lucius chuckled mockingly. "Y/N is speaking the truth, father." Draco stated. His ears were turning red, and a vein in his neck that always pops when he's angry was visible.

"That guard was being a pain in the ass, accusing us of planning an escape!"

"I don't care what he was fucking saying, you must learn respect, Draco!" Lucius' voiced echoed off of the Manor walls. Draco flinched, Narcissa winced at the noise level of his voice, looking empathetic towards Draco and I.

Lucius stayed quiet for a moment. He inhaled a deep breath. "I clearly need to rethink you both leaving the Manor. You clearly aren't ready." Lucius voiced, turning away from you and Draco, facing the fireplace.

"What the hell? You can't keep us here forever. We are not your prisoners." I blurt out. Lucius swiftly turns to my direction and draws his wand, pointing it towards me. "You! You are the one who was venomous to my son's mind!." You drew your wand out as well, but Lucius performed an Expelliarmus charm, disarming you. You gulped and backed up, Draco immediately jumped in front of you, guarding you.

"That is enough!" Draco bellowed, his hand tightly wrapped around the base of his wand. Sparks flew out of Lucius' wand, you immediately recognized that it was the crucio curse.

"Protego totalum!" Draco cried, and blocked the curse.

"Lucius he is your son!" Narcissa bawled, throwing her body onto his arm. He looked down at his desperate lover, begging him to stop the violence against their own blood.

"I wasn't aiming for him, Narcissa."

Lucius lurched towards you and Draco. Draco's eyes were dark, looking up at his father. Lucius promptly shoved him out of the way, Draco toppled onto the floor.

"Draco!" You screamed, reaching out for him, but Lucius grabbed you by the base of your neck, pulling you towards him.

"Crucio!" Exclaimed Lucius, his wand pointing towards you.

"Y/N!" Draco yelled, but it was too late.

It felt like electricity was shooting through your body; you felt like you were on fire, as if a firework had been set off inside of your body. Traveling through each limb, making it excruciatingly painful. Your body jolted to the floor. You tried to scream and bellow in pain; but you couldn't. Your body folded onto itself.

"You son of a bitch!" Draco yelled again, he ran towards you, Lucius had his wand pointed towards him. "Leave her!" He began to say another spell until Narcissa's voice rang across the room, "Petrificus Totalus!"

You flinched, expecting you to be paralyzed, and unable to defend yourself, on top of being in this amount of intense pain, but you heard a large thump to the floor.

You felt so frail, you could barely lift your head up off of the floor, only to see Lucius completely paralyzed.

Narcissa was still from the casting position she was in previously, trying to catch her breath.

"He needs.... He needs time children, please go up to your room. Y/N, dear, are you okay?" She said, all in-between long, slow breaths.

"I don't know.." You admitted honestly.

“Draco, I will take care of you father here, please take care of Y/N.” Narcissa waved you both off.

Draco lifted you off of the floor, bridal style. You instantly cling to him. You look up and see a tear rolling down his cheek. A bruise was forming on his face from where he had hit the floor. “Draco, your face,” You said softly, your hand landing in his bruised cheek bone. “I am the least of my worries, Y/N. Especially right now.” Draco replied. His grip on your tightened. You arrived to your bedroom. Draco gently placed you on the bed.

He quickly went to his dresser, rummaging through what sounded like glass bottles. Draco finally found a small bottle containing a thin, red liquid. He handed it to you. You were still weak, and slowly raised your hand up to grab it.

“What is this?” You asked with a rasp to your voice.

“Wiggenweld.” Draco said, he seemed uptight. “A healing potion.” He added. You nodded and popped off the cork. You brought the bottle to your lips and downed the potion. A warm, numbing feeling went over you; then the numbing had gone away. Your pain was gone, you were no longer weak.

“I feel so much better, thank you.” You bummed to the platinum boy.

Draco seemed to be spaced out. He wasn’t facing towards you, he was instead looking outside of his window.

“It shouldn’t have even happened.” Draco stressed. “I should’ve been to take the curse.”

You shook your head. “Dray, I’m fine.” you had insisted, getting up from the bed, spinning around slowly to show him you’re safe. Draco stepped towards you, and placed his hands on your waist. His silver eyes meet yours. You’re unable to speak, like you’re in a trance.

“Your protection is my responsibility,” Draco began. “From now on, I promise I will protect you, but now I need to take care of you.” His voice was low, it was in a tone you’d never heard before.

“I need you to take care of me, Dray.” You say seductively. Your hands land on his chest, his hand remain on your sides, but are now slowly running up and down.

He looked at your eyes, then your lips. He held you closer to him, tightening his grip. You smiled up at him and stood up on your tip toes and connected your lips to his. It wasn’t quick, and simple like the ones you’ve had in the past. It was slow, and sensual. Draco was hungry for you, his teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you gasped lightly. He took this as an opportunity to slip his tongue toward yours. He backed up up onto the bed again.

You felt goosebumps on every inch of your body. Draco hovered over you.

“Let me take care of you.”

[h3r-h3arts-with-obx]

SECRETS BENEATH THE TIDES CHAP. 1 (hope yall like it!!!)

notes: hi guys!!! first chap here! chap 2 comin soon. I hope yall enjoy💗💗

Chapter 1 - Right Where I Left ‘Em

The persistent roar of chainsaws stirred me from a deep sleep, their harsh sound cutting through the morning stillness like a knife. Still bleary from the restless night, I rubbed my eyes and shuffled to my window. Peering through the curtains, I caught sight of a small army of yard workers outside, bustling around the backyard, chopping up the remnants of the storm that had crashed through just hours earlier. Hurricane Agatha had left her mark, and now it was storm clean-up day, a necessary but unwelcome interruption to my beauty sleep.

With a sigh, I trudged downstairs, the scent of strong coffee beckoning from the kitchen. As I reached the bottom step, I spotted my mom already up and ready for the day. She was sitting at the kitchen table, dressed in her usual work clothes—a pair of faded jeans and a bright blue t-shirt, her hair pulled back into a practical ponytail. She seemed unfazed by the chaos outside, the clattering chainsaws and shouts of workers filling the air. She glanced up from her steaming mug, a small, tight-lipped smile across her face as she noticed me. 

"Good morning, Andrea," she said, her calm, steady tone making me stand up a little straighter. Great, she’s still full naming me… I leaned against the doorframe, still processing the whirlwind of activity outside. 

"I guess," I replied, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. Mom looked towards me, her eyes scanning my pajama-clad form. "Put some clothes on and get ready. I’ll drop you at John B’s," she said, sipping her coffee. 

Now, that got my attention. 

Since Mom and I moved back to the OBX two days ago, unpacking, cleaning, and setting everything up have become part of my everyday routine. I haven’t had a chance to escape my chaotic life in Figure 8 to visit the Pogues, my real family. Despite our constant text chains, FaceTimes, and Google Meets, I've missed them. 

Honestly, I’m a blend of Pogue and Kook. My mom, Carol Whipper, is a Kook. She grew up wealthy, so there was always money around. My dad, Big John Routledge, was a Pogue. Or rather, he was, since he’s dead. I heard about Dad’s disappearance earlier this year. 

That makes John B. Routledge my half-brother, but it feels more like he’s a full-blood brother. We’ve always supported each other, even with over 3,000 miles between us. 

Mom and Dad were married for about a year before divorcing. Dad was a dedicated treasure hunter, that was his whole life, while Mom wanted stability. So, she took me up and left JB and Dad. John B. isn’t her son; his mom left a year prior. Mom never really liked John B. as we grew up—even all the Pogues, for that matter. She thought they were all troublemakers (I mean, they are) and believed they negatively influenced me. So, she took me away, away from my life and freedom, confined to the mainland. 

Or that's one of the reasons. Mom wanted to work in business, so she moved us to California. I didn’t wanna go at all, but when you’re a 13-year-old, there's not much you can do about that.

I give her a fast nod in agreement before rushing back up the stairs. I throw myself at my dresser after making it through the doorway to my room, which is now full of clothes thanks to my unpacking skills. I toss some items into a bag before selecting a crop top. It’s white and green, with Hamptons, New York, Long Island printed on it. I grab black jean shorts and a cute, simple, dark olive green bikini. After quickly sliding everything on, I head to my bathroom to brush my hair. 

I zip up my bag, snagging my white Converse by my doorway as I head out of the bedroom. “Mom!” I call, thumping down the stairs. Suddenly, my right foot slips out from under me, and I fall, crashing my knee onto the stairs. I let out a screech. 

“Andrea!” Mom calls. “Are you ok?” She rushes over from the kitchen, stopping right before my crumpled form. 

Once I stop, I sit gently on the stairs. “Yeah, Mom, I’m fine,” I say, my tone strained. Reaching down, I gingerly touch my knee. That's gonna leave a mark… 

“Fu-” I start, only to catch my mother watching me. “F-fu-fudge.” I look up from my knee to my mom. “I’m ready; let's go." 

She looks at me again before saying, “Jesus, Andie, I’ve never seen you get dressed so fast." I nod. “Not every day you get to see your family,” I swear I see her wince. But she knows damn well that the Pogues are more family than she ever will be.

“Ok then,” she walks into the mudroom and stops at the key hook near the front door. I tilt my head to one side and stand up. “Wait, I thought I was driving,” I say. “Massive branch fell on your car. Sorry, bug, it cracked the windshield.” Well, shit. 

“Oh.”

“I’ll just drop you off,” she says. I sigh and follow her path towards the mudroom. “I’ll be in the car waiting,” Mom says before heading out the front door. I nod and put on my shoes. I lean on my injured knee, only to grunt and pull away.

This is taking longer than expected. 

I bite my lip. Come on, come on. I glance at the car, Mom leaning against it, checking her phone or something. I stand up and limp out the door. Once outside, everything hits me. It's been three years since I left the Outer Banks, and oh, how I’ve missed it—the salty air, the sound of crashing waves, the summer heat. 

“Andie!” I turn to face my mother, who gestures toward the car. “Let’s go! I don’t have all day.” I jog over to her, half limping 

“I’m here.” I slide into the passenger seat, buckle up, and place my bag by my feet. Mom climbs into the driver's seat. “Alrighty,” she says, turning the key in the ignition. We leave the driveway, turning out of the street.

We sit quietly, cruising around the Figure 8 area as we approach the Cut.

“Andrea.” Mom starts. Her tone is serious. I look at her. “Don’t do anything illegal with your…brother when you go to see him,” she emphasizes with a disdainful tone. “I know what you all get up to.” 

My face tightens, and I press my lips together. “Mom, it’s not his fault. Any of theirs, for that matter. I choose what I do, ok?” 

“Okay. Just don’t do anything foolish.” Mom removes one hand from the steering wheel and places it on my shoulder. I tense. It's not that I don’t love my mom; it's just that our relationship has been strained since we moved. I’m not one for physical touch unless it's the Pogues.

"Mom, I'm not a kid anymore. I know what I’m doing. You don't need to worry so much about my choices." I say.

“I’m just trying to look out for you," Mom replies with a sigh. She then turns onto the road that leads towards the Cut. All the neighborhoods look messy, tree branches and random crap everywhere. A long silence fills the car as Mom keeps her eyes on the road while I send a message in the P4L🤙group chat. 

Me: pulling in soon. SO EXCITED TO SEE YALL. moms been kicking my ass

jombie: us too. jj claims to have polio this fine morning.

kieee: YES BABES. jj, omg ur such a drama queen

pope: Awesome! Can’t wait to see you.

jayj: bro im tired, we dont judge jb. andie, i challenge u to a cannonball battle ;)

→ Me: lets go fucker :D

The car slows as Mom pulls into the Château’s driveway. I’m already through the door. “Andrea!” Mom yells. “Sorry!” I say, putting my head through the window. She motions to come back. “You're probably going to ask to stay the night, " she says. I nod. “Be back at a reasonable hour.” 

I dash to the front door, bag in hand. “Thanks!” I shouted, closing the trunk before sprinting towards the front door. My nerves are nearly buzzing as I grasp the handle. The house has an odor of alcohol and smoke. I hear sounds approaching from the back porch. After dropping my bag by the pull-out bed, I step outside.

John B. throws branches off the HMS Pogue, which sits in the car attachment on the lawn. JJ stands close by, leaning against the side of the boat, not noticing my presence. Neither boy is wearing a shirt. My eyes stray back to JJ, who rubs his eyes and says something to JB. Oh my god, he looks so hot right now, his hair all messy, and his baby blue eyes-

“Andie!” John B exclaims, breaking my trance. “Hi!” I call, each of us walking towards each other and meeting halfway. I wrap my arms around him tightly. “Oh my god, it's been ages!”

“Welcome back!” he says, pulling away slightly to face me. “Shit, kid, you’ve grown quite a bit.” I snort. “Growth spurt. Remember when we were kids and I was taller than you?” He places a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Ouch. No need for the reminder.” I giggle. “How's life, bird?” I inquire, setting my hand on his shoulder. “Better now that you’re here, bird shit,” he responds, doing the same.

I pull away and turn backward towards JJ, who is already closing the gap between us. “Jayj,” I say, almost a whisper, as I lock eyes with him. We pull each other in for a tight hug. 

“Hey,” I murmur into his shoulder. “Sup,” he replies into my hair. I giggle.

We separate. JJ gives me a look. “Wow, you got hot,” he says. I lightly punch him in the shoulder, a smile breaking my lips. “That's all you gotta say since I’m back? Not, welcome back, Andie! Or I missed you, Andie!” He gives me his famous cocky grin, shrugging. 

“Stop tryna get with my sister!” John B calls behind him. He’s already walking towards the porch steps. JJ raises his hands. “All good, man, wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Good. Shall we get ready?” John B says, holding the door open. “I guess,” JJ mumbles, yawning. “No rest for the weary.” He gives me a wink. 

“Please, you sleep more than anyone I know,” I say, following JB into the house. I hear JJ scoff somewhere behind me. 

“So where are we going, JB?” I ask, holding the door open for JJ.

“So, I’m thinkin’ that Agatha pushed the crab outta the marsh, and we can get quite the haul today,” he says. 

“Hm, fun.” I walk towards the fridge as JJ goes to the bathroom, and John B. goes to his room. I already have everything I need. There's a bunch of random shit in the fridge, but I select a beer, Pabst Blue Ribbon—my favorite. We always drink this brand, but it's still good every time. I crack it open, guzzling it. John B walks into the room, a couple of towels in one arm and a t-shirt in the other.

“Whoa whoa, slow down, junior,” John B says. 

“Ohhh, that's the spot. Been forever since I had a drink. Can you blame me?” I ask, giving him a face as I take another sip. He sighs. “I guess not; you live with Carol, after all.” John B isn’t my mom's biggest fan. Since we’re half-siblings, we only share our dad, so he has no tie to my mom whatsoever. 

“She nor Figure 8 is my home. Doesn’t even feel close to right. Y’all are my home.” John B gives me a sweet expression before he moves down the hall towards the front door.

JJ comes over to the fridge, now wearing a tank top with zero traces of sleeves and swim trunks. 

“What even are sleeves?” I say, motioning to his shirt with my beer can. He grins. “I dunno, what are they?” I can’t help but let my eyes stray towards his muscular arms. JJ opens the door and reaches inside, coming out empty-handed. 

“Damnit, you took the last can.” He says, a pout on his face. “Finders keepers,” I say, sighing as he removes it from my hand and takes a long sip before returning it. 

“Thanks,” JJ says, walking towards the pull-out bed. “No prob, dog,” I say, shrugging at him. John B. comes back from down the hall. “Got the keys.”

“Alright, y’all! Let’s hit it!” JJ calls, clapping his hands before turning towards the back door. I finish my beer before placing it in the overflowing trash can. I follow with John B. “Lemme help you,” I say, grabbing some of the towels in my free hand. I open the door, allowing John B through before shutting it and joining the boys outside. The warm sun feels good on my face. 

We put our things on the porch couch before moving to finish clearing off the HMS Pogue. John B. and JJ removed the heavier branches while I grabbed those half the size. 

JJ calls for a break and complains about his lungs, so it's just JB and me. 

I take one of the larger, more jagged, and sharp sticks on the end closest to me. “Careful,” John B says, getting towards the other side. I back away slowly, but the branch is too heavy. “I’m gonna drop it!” The branch falls out of my grip, sliding down my forearm, sharp side against my skin. I squeal, tears stinging my eyes. JJ runs to me from where he stands against a tree on his phone. I hear him mumble a quiet “Shit!” before he comes to my side. “Are you ok?” JB drops the stick and comes to my other side. “Lemme see,” he says. There's a large cut, about an inch long. “Fucking shit,” I mumble as he touches too close to it. 

“Sorry, kid. You’ll live, though,” John B says, giving me a reassuring smile. “JJ, can you take her inside?” JJ nods, grabs my other arm, and gently pulls me toward the house. 

Once inside, he leads me to the counter, letting go of my arm. I grab a small dish towel as he pulls a first aid kit from a cabinet. “Are you okay?” JJ asks again as he searches for a bandage big enough to cover the wound. 

“Mhm,” I say as I sit down on a stool, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.

“Looks like it hurts.” He picks up a Band-Aid finally. “Aha.”

“Yup.” I raise my arm to him, removing the bloodied towel.

“It’s a bleeder for sure.” JJ takes my arm, his touch soft. I sharply inhale. “Sorry!” He says, pulling back slightly. He undoes the band-aid wrapper, placing it on the counter, and puts the bandaid on the wound. “That should do it,”

“Thanks.” He mumbles an “mhm” before standing up and throwing the wrapper in the trash can. “I’ll put the stuff away if you wanna go help JB with the Pogue,” I say, standing up and moving to pick up the first aid kit.

“Alright,” JJ walks out the back door.

 Once I'm done cleaning, I go outside to watch the boys. John B. and JJ load the boat trailer with the Pogue on it while I sit back and watch from the porch. Even after living in the OBX almost all my life, despite my father's teachings, I still don’t know how to do something like this. 

The Twinkie moves slowly, clearly reflecting John B’s driving skills—JJ gestures where to go. Once the boat is successfully in the water, the boys release the trailer. I grab our stuff and walk down the path. “Ready to go?” JB asks, taking some weight from my hands. “Yup!”

JJ helps me into the boat. “Madam," he says, extending a hand. “Thank you, good sir,” I reply with a giggle as I take it. He then pushes us off the shore and jumps in next to me. John B starts the engine, and the motor roars to life. I sit toward the back of the boat, with the wind whipping past my face.

[thesweetnessofspring]

!!!boo!!! (trick or treat)

any hcs of how everlark spends halloween / autumn in general? (and / or a moodboard emulating their autumn season vibes, if u want :o)!!)

One thing I keep thinking about the apple trees on the edge of the forest and the apple tree that had been in Peeta's backyard. So sit back (and put on this song if you'd like) for a drabble on the Everlark family apple picking.

I take a deep breath in, the air of autumn cool and invigorating as it flows into my lungs, while the afternoon sunlight bathes us in warmth. After a spring of dandelion salads and a summer of berries with cream comes my favorite season of all: apple season.

“Careful, baby!” Katniss rushes over to our son who starts climbing up the tree trunk. 

“Mama, I can do it!” he protests and scrambles up higher in the branch. Katniss lets him be but keeps an eye on him, hovering near the edge of the branches.

“Daddy, my basket’s full,” Our daughter leans backwards as she totters forward with a basket full of the red and gold apples. I catch the basket wider than our girl and lift it up and away from her. 

“There’s lots more up high,” our daughter says.

“I can get them!” Our son drops an apple into Katniss’s waiting apron.

“As long as you keep your feet on that tree,” Katniss says. “If you dangle like a monkey, you’ll be back on the ground.”

“You stay there,” I say. “I’ll get Mama and Daddy’s tree.”

“I’m getting the ladder for mine!” Our girl scurries to pick up the worn wooden ladder and swing it toward her tree.

“When’s mine gonna have apples?” Our boy asks.

“Any year now,” I tell him, reaching up to the highest I can to pluck from the crown of the tree. “You’ll have to be patient and wait until the tree is ready.”

“It’s not fair,” he says. “All the other trees have apples.”

“I had to wait nine years for mine!” Our daughter says, hand on her hip, the ladder perched against her apple tree.

“How long did you and Daddy have to wait, Mama?” Our son tosses two apples down at once to Katniss.

“For this first one? I think it must have been…ten years. Right, Daddy?”  

“Ten years,” I confirm. I’d started sprouting the seed from some of the wild apples at the edge of the forest, but only planted the tree a year later when things between Katniss and I got settled and I moved in with her. From there, it took ten years of care before we got any fruit out of the first tree.

“What about your wedding tree?” Our daughter asks, a new basket perched on the ladder step above her and filling up with more apples.

“Eight years,” I say. “It gave fruit right along with the first one.”

“I hope mine is only eight years,” our son says. “I want apples from my tree next year!”

“Maybe you will,” Katniss says. “All you can do is wait.”

Our son groans and I hide a smile by turning my face to the rustling green leaves and small, round apples. Now in Panem, kids can’t wait to grow up and ours are no different. There’s so much to do and experience and they don’t have the patience to wait and appreciate life as it is. Now in the fifth decade of my life, I know better than to wish for any moment with my wife and children to go by faster. 

As our baskets’ capacity for apples has been met, we sit down on a blanket in front of the plucked trees and eat the crisp, sweet fruit. The taste reminds me of an apple tree I used to spend my falls gathering fruit from, my brothers and I competing for who could pick the most and our father showing us how to peel and cook them into the goods we’d sell, but sneak us each a slice to taste. 

Just like my family did then, we’ll take these apples and make some into pies or apple butter, others we’ll eat fresh, and some we’ll preserve in cans to use in the winter when the world rests from all of its work to nestle in with those we love. And its taste will bring with it the memory of this golden afternoon, forever ours to remember.

[bonfire-at-the-crossroads]

Jailbreak.

Eamon, Eamon, and Eamon’s cows have figured out that there is, in fact, no barbed wire fence between them and the lush green of the endless salad bar, just across the road. It’s just a matter of a step up, a slow sashay down the tarmac - and into our backyard.

They move in slow motion, there’s no hurry. They are huge. They are shaggy. They have horns. I look up from the rim of my coffee mug to see them parading past the window and into the field.

The Eamon Keaneys have lived along the lake road for at least three hundred years. A series of whitewashed cottages have clustered together over a very long time - some tossed like pebbles farther across the fields or tucked further into the hills - but they are all occupied by Keaneys.

The week we arrived into our cold construction site of a schoolhouse - Eamon pulled his tractor alongside the stone wall by the road, leaned out and asked “Are you my new neighbors?”

“I’m not sure?” sez I. “We’re new to Ireland, and maybe?”

“Ah. I hear that you are both retired police officers from NYC.”

Wow.

“Uhhhh......no?” I say - “but let’s go with that, because it’s SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING than the truth.”

He is hopelessly confused now, and this was my very FIRST experience of that quizzical look that I receive from all Irish folk when I talk to them. (I’m almost used to it now, as they never seem to understand my humor - and gawd knows I don’t understand theirs.)

He tells me he is Eamon Keaney, and lives down the lake road. I reach up to shake his hand, and he is once again utterly confused. Apparently women don’t offer to shake hands when introduced?

A week later a very old man strolls by with his pokey-stick, and introduces himself. “I’m Eamon Keaney”

But wait....I already met Eamon Keaney, and pretty sure he wasn’t you? “That would be my son. Eamon.”

But wait...there’s more. Later that day the first Eamon was passing by on his quad with a lad of about 8 perched on his lap in front of the bike. “This is my son Eamon.”

And so the roster goes...

Eamon the Elder - who is now actually 90

Eamon the Middle - big strapping chunk of a fella, maybe 50?

Eamon the Younger - an average-size 20-something in muddy wellies who drives the quad at crazy speed down the road...

Eamon, Eamon, and Eamon’s cows are at large in the back yard.

[bondedbyus]

What makes Father Happy (feel them special and important )

So hello, friends! How are you? 😊 I hope you're all doing amazing! 💖 We’re super excited to have you here at Aladean, where love and joy meet the most thoughtful gifts! 😍🎁

I mean, who doesn’t love a good surprise, right? 😂 Whether you're hunting for something special for yourself or looking for the perfect gift for someone else, Aladean has you covered with unique treasures. 💎💫 So grab your coffee, sit back, and let’s take a little journey through our collection – you're going to love what you find! 😄

friends, we’re diving into something truly special today – the bond between a father and his children! 😍💖 It’s one of those relationships that’s just irreplaceable and so heart warming, don't you think? 😊

So, let’s start with fathers and daughters. There’s something magical about that bond – it’s like they share this unspoken understanding that’s full of love and laughter. A father is often a daughter’s first hero, protector, and role model. 💪👧 And let’s be real, who doesn’t love when Dad is there to give you those "life lessons" while still making you laugh until your tummy hurts? 😂✨

Now, fathers and sons – oh my, what a special connection that is too! 👨‍👦 A father teaches his son how to be strong, kind, and brave. They have this dynamic where fun meets life lessons, and it’s just pure joy! From tossing the ball around in the backyard to bonding over shared interests, it's truly something unique. 🏀😄

So, no matter what, these relationships are timeless, everlasting, and filled with love. The laughter, the support, and the memories you build with your father stay with you forever! 💕 Whether it's through funny moments or deep heart-to-heart talks, these bonds are the foundation of life. 🌟

So, let’s celebrate our fathers, because they really do hold a special place in our hearts. 🎉💖 And trust me, you’re gone want to share this with your dad today! 😄

let’s talk about how we can make our fathers feel happy and important! 💖😄 Honestly, we all know that fathers are always out there working hard, trying to make everything perfect for their families. So, it’s super important to let them know just how much they mean to us, right? 😊

First of all, showing appreciation goes a long way. You don’t need to wait for a special occasion – just a little “Hey, Dad, you’re the best!” can make his whole day! 💌💫 It’s the little things that count, like asking about his day, or sharing a laugh over a joke only the two of you get! 😂

And hey, spending quality time with him is priceless. It doesn’t matter if it’s just a quiet walk, watching a favorite game together, or grabbing lunch – those moments mean more than we realize! 🏃‍♂️🍔 And trust me, the smile on his face says it all! 😁

And let’s not forget – giving him something thoughtful and personal shows you’re truly paying attention. It could be a gift that represents something meaningful to him, a hobby he loves, or even a heartfelt letter that expresses just how much you appreciate him. 🎁✍️ Trust me, he’ll cherish it forever!

In the end, making Dad feel happy and important is all about showing him love and making him feel like the incredible superhero that he is. 🦸‍♂️💖 A little bit of attention, laughter, and heart can brighten up his world in ways we can’t even imagine! 😍

what a heartfelt message that is! 🌟 Imagine gifting your father a beautiful set of decorative bells, and attaching such a deep, loving message to it. 💖 Let me help you express that beautiful sentiment in words! Here’s how it could go:

“Daddy, you are just like these bells. 🎶 You’ve always been the one to alert us when we’re in danger, guiding us with your wisdom and love. In our childhood, your voice was like the peaceful sound of bells, singing us to sleep with soothing melodies that filled us with warmth and calm. 🌙✨

Just like the bells, you bring positivity into our lives – a light sound that brings a sense of peace, especially in the summer breeze or on a sunny winter day. 🌞❄️ You’ve been our painkiller, healing us in every way possible, whether it’s physical or emotional pain. 😌💪

You are our alert alarm, our guiding star, our peace and comfort zone. Daddy, I wish you could stay with us forever, by my side, till my very last breath. 💫 And when that day comes, I want to take my last breath in your arms, on your shoulder, because you’ve always been my safe haven, my hero. 💖

Thank you for being everything we need. You are our everything. 🙏❤️”

Such a heartfelt gift and message would truly touch his heart. 💖🎁 You’re telling him how much he means to you in the most loving, beautiful way. It’s a message filled with love, gratitude, and deep admiration for everything he has done for you. 😄

😄 So, go ahead and tell your father just how much he means to you with a gift that speaks volumes – a beautiful set of decorative bells. 🎶 Trust me, when you present him with these, he’ll know exactly how much you appreciate him. 😍💖 You can even say something like:

"Dad, these bells are just like you – always there to alert us when we need help, always bringing peace and comfort, just like the sound of these bells that fill the air with serenity. 🕊️ These bells remind me of how you’ve always been my guide, my protector, and my hero. You're the one who’s been there for me through thick and thin – like a peaceful melody, soothing us all with your love and care."

I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you start tearing up a little while giving him this gift – the bond with your father is SO pure and SO emotional! 😭💖 It’s okay to cry a little, but hey, maybe throw in a hug to make it all even more heartwarming. 😄 Trust me, that’s the real medicine for the soul!

So go ahead and get those decorative bells from Aladean:

https://aladean.com/products/large-anchor-ship-bells-vintage-dinner-bells

and don’t forget to give him the biggest hug ever. It’s the kind of bond that’s built to last forever! 🫶💖

bye bye, friends! 😊💖 I hope you all have an amazing day, filled with love and joy! 😄 Take care, and don’t forget to show your dad some extra love today! 😘 Until next time, keep shining and spreading that good energy! 🌟👋

[themerrymutants]

🗣+ Enigma and Maeve

Meme: Send me 🗣+ the names of 2 muses on the blog, and there will be a random conversation written involving them. Tagging: @onlyheartaches Currently: accepting

"You seem strangely — alright with all of this," Maeve murmured eyeing the mutant cautiously, "I mean I just told you that sentient quadrapedal creatures never before discovered exist, I was one of them in a long ago life, and there are shadow entities that have been hunting me down throughout my lifetimes."

"I was adopted by a version of Lord Elrond, my son has been dropping into a version of earth 616 since he was 8, there's an eldritch being who'd been trapped in our backyard for millions of years by aliens because she was a genocidal dictator the fear of whom has been etched into our very dna," Enigma said as calmly as one lists chores, "said entity created an entire pocket dimension that is situated next to the school, our house, and is now inhabited by all manner of strange creatures. We're an interdimensional nexus. Oh! AND Lord of The Rings was historical in our dimension apparently. Either that or we merged with a dimension in which it was. Toss up really when you're an Xavier."

There was a very looong pause as the witch processed what all she'd just heard.

"Oh-kay." It was time to go back to the shop now and thank the gods she was normal.

[tswaney17]

Daddy's Snowball

This might be the cheesiest of cheesy fluff that it's almost cringeworthy. 😅 My one Christmas fic turned into an AU (honestly, who's even surprised?) so there will be three, possibly four parts to this that I'll be posting throughout the month. This first part, basically Az being a simp for his wife and son. Enjoy, and happy holiday's! 💙

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: tooth-decaying fluff.

Word Count: 1,820

Azriel had his hands, elbow-deep in the sink as he finished washing the dishes from their breakfast. Elain had made a brioche French toast that was unbelievably delicious—though everything she made was always wonderful.

His wife was currently cleaning the syrupy mess that was their son. By the time he finished eating, Azriel was pretty sure more of the sugar glue had ended up on his face and hands than in his mouth. He smiled to himself at the image.

Sunday was always his favorite day of the week. Because, on Sunday, he, Elain, and Kaden sat down for breakfast and then spent the rest of the day together. Sometimes they planned little day trips. Others, they spent lounging around the house just playing with their son. Kaden had quickly caught on to their Sunday rituals and started voicing his own suggestions for what they should do. Going to the zoo, watching a movie, or spending the afternoon at the park were just a few of his many ideas.  

He was finishing up wiping off the counter when a little hand tugged at his pant leg.

“Daddy,” Kaden looked up at him with those large, pleading eyes that had his heart melting in his chest. “Can we go outside to pway in the snow?”

A smile took over his face. “Of course. But we need to get our snow gear on.” He dropped the towel on the counter and held his hand out for him. “Come on, let’s go get changed.”

Small, tanned fingers grabbed his ring finger and pinky as they walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom. Azriel grabbed all of Kaden’s winter clothing, his snow pants, and a sweater, helping him change. “Your jacket is by the door and so are your boots. I’ll meet you down there.”

“Tank you, daddy!” he called, racing from his bedroom.

Az chuckled, shaking his head at the hyperactivity his son was now displaying from his sugary breakfast. Quickly pulling on his rain pants over his jeans and thick socks, he met Kaden at the back door where Elain was zipping up his jacket.

“Don’t forget your gloves,” she told their son, helping him stuff his hands into snow gloves. “And a hat,” Elain added with a giggle, flopping a blue beanie on top of his rogue curls.

She turned, eyes beaming. “You too,” she said and tugged a beanie over Azriel’s head.

He leaned forward for a quick kiss as their son slid open the door and plunged into the snow. “Can I convince you to join us?”

“Oh, no. It’s much too cold for me. Plus, this is good to spend time with him alone. I’ll make some hot chocolate for you guys and come get you in about an hour.”

Azriel pecked her soft, pink lips again. “You’re too good to me.”

Elain’s fingers slipped into the hair at his nape, holding him there for a few more seconds.

He would’ve stayed rooted to the spot in the open doorway, kissing his fucking amazing, beautiful wife, had a high pitched, “Daddy!” not beckoned him to the frozen wasteland they called their backyard. Elain’s gardens flourished the rest of the year, but very little could thrive in Velaris’s harsh winters.

“Coming, buddy!” he called out, closing the door behind him as he trudged out in the nearly two-foot-deep white blanket that covered their yard.

It was cold enough that Kaden didn’t sink too far in, the underneath layer frozen. But Az’s heavy, muscular body sent his steps nearly to the ground. He snatched his son around the waist, tossing him in the air and catching him under his arms.

Kaden squealed, falling into him as they both landed in the snow, the little one on his chest. The happy giggles coming from his son’s lips were one of his favorite sounds, ones he collected like precious stones to store and take out when he was having a bad day.

“Can you do a snow angel, Kaden?” he asked, lying him down on his back.

Those hazel and green eyes looked up at him in such wonderment. Azriel sometimes forgot how innocent children were until Kaden came into his and Elain’s lives. They were his providers, his caregivers, his everything. It gave him whiplash how much their lives had changed since his adoption.

“Okay,” he started, positioning his limbs. “Be a starfish.” He followed his orders, his limbs forming a spread eagle. “Now slide your arms up and down.”

Kaden’s arms shuffled, pushing the snow around.

“And your legs,” he guided gripping the tip of his boots to direct him into the proper motion. “All right, up we go.” Az grabbed him and hauled him into his arms. “Look at your snow angel, buddy!”

Those eyes widened in child-like astonishment. “Now you, daddy!”

Setting Kaden down on the ground, Azriel flopped back into the snow, swishing his limbs to create his angel right next to his son’s. White powder dusted his dark hair, collected at the collar of his jacket, but he didn’t care. Not when it produced the precious, toothy grin on his son’s face.

“You’re so big,” Kaden stated, pointing at his snow angel once he climbed back to his feet. “Will I get big like you, daddy?”

He ruffled dark hair under his beanie. His soul softened every time Kaden called him that name—it had taken a while for him to grow comfortable with it.

At one point in his life, Azriel believed he’d never be worthy of a wife, of children. And then Elain came along and turned every doubt, every insecurity, into something he fought to concur. His demons, his past, they couldn’t touch him because of her love, her undying affection. He adored her for it.

“One day, you’ll be as big and strong as me,” Az promised, cradling the back of his head, and letting his thumb swoop in his loose curls. He could see it, with Kaden copying a lot of what he did. Elain had probably two hundred photos and videos on her phone, catching him grabbing more meat and veggies after Azriel did, trying to mimic him doing pushups when he worked out at home, sitting at his desk scribbling on paper pretending to work with him, tinkering in his shed with him. It was, undoubtedly, the cutest thing.

Those sweet eyes lit up at his words. A few weeks ago, Kaden announced he wanted to be “just like daddy,” and Azriel would be lying if he said that proclamation had him both puffing up his chest in pride and wanting to sob at the same time. It also had him stepping up his game to be an even better role model for his son.

They rolled around in the snow, tossing handfuls of it up into the air and letting it rain down on them, when he asked, “Kaden, do you want me to show you how to make a snowball?”

“Yes! Show me, daddy!” he cheered, running to plop himself on the ground next to Azriel’s hip.

He grabbed a handful of snow, forming and shaping it into a perfect sphere, explaining to Kaden how to pack it and smooth out the edges. Over his many years of snowball fights with his brothers, he learned quickly how to create the perfect ball.

His son watched him attentively, trying to copy his movements. “Like this, daddy?” he asked, presenting Azriel with a misshapen white blob of snow.

Az had to hold in his chuckle, knowing that as soon as Kaden threw it, the ball would disintegrate in midair. “Very good, buddy. Would you like me to help you make one of daddy’s snowballs?”

He nodded his head enthusiastically.

Digging into the ground, he told him, “First off, you want to get the right kind of snow. The top layer is typically too soft to hold together, so go down a little bit and get some of the firmer snow underneath.” He helped Kaden dig down, collecting a handful of snow in his small, gloved palms.

“Next, we want to pack it together.” Folding his hands over his sons, he helped him tighten the snow into a firm ball. “And then, shape it so it’s round.” He dusted off some of the rougher edges until it was smooth. “And there we go, a perfect snowball.”

Az lifted Kaden to his feet, aiming him for one of the close trees. “Try and hit the trunk.”

He threw the snowball with all his might, the frozen thing missing the tree by a good three feet. Az laughed. “Good try, bud. Here, let’s make more and try it again.”

Sitting on the ground, not caring that his ass was currently frozen, he made snowball after snowball for his son who took every single one in an attempt to hit the tree trunk.

Finally, after thirty balls or so, he did, the bark covered in a splotch of white. “Daddy!” he screamed in delight. “I did it! Did you see?” A little body came crashing into his chest, arms thrown around his neck.

“Awesome job, Kaden!” He hugged him tightly, taking every advantage he got while his son was still young, knowing that when he got older, hugs would become less and less frequent. The realization had him holding Kaden closer.  

The sound of the sliding door opening caught his attention. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Elain, leaning against the doorframe with a smile gracing her face.

“Boys, come inside before you freeze. I’ve made hot chocolate,” she beckoned.

Azriel rose to his feet, still holding his son against his chest.

“With marshmallows, momma?”

Gods, the smile on Elain’s lips would one day make his heart stop. It was so beautiful, so bright, that it lit up the darkest corners of his troubled past. Made him feel warmth, unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

“Yes, with marshmallows. I’ve already put some in your cocoa.” She leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss Kaden’s reddened cheek and then placed another on his. “Come in before you let all the hot air out.”

He set his son down, halting him when he started to run off to the kitchen. “Boots and jacket off, buddy. We don’t track snow all through momma’s house.”

After stripping him down to appropriate houseware, Kaden took off for the kitchen where yet another sugary concoction was waiting for him. “He’s going to be bouncing off the walls today.”

Elain laughed, looping her arm with his. “Yeah, well, he’s sweet and deserves it.”

Azriel looked down at her in awe. Because he knew she was right. They wanted to spoil their son with love, and he did just that. Sitting down at the table, he clinked his mug with Kaden’s and then Elain’s, thinking just how lucky he was to have this perfect little family.

~~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

I’m not doing a tag list anymore because they’re really more trouble than they’re worth. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

[calumance]

mama hood being a chaperone for one of aidens school trips where they go away for a few days so calls at home with lil logan, maybe he’s toddler aged at this point, and they just have the time of their lives cause as we know, logan is obsessed with calum, and he’s just so happy to be with him cause cals been working so much and he’s not home too often

I went to "outdoor ED" when I was in middle school, and that's where I pictured mama had taken Aiden, that's not really established here, that was just the first thing that popped into my head 😂😂😂

WELCOME BACK HOOD FAMILY.

            It had been about fifteen minutes since Logan had fallen asleep on Calum’s chest. Calum’s legs were crisscrossed allowing Logan’s body weight to rest on his right leg. It was when Calum felt that deep sigh that he knew Logan was out like a light. A smile stretched across his face as he reached his free hand up towards the little guys back and gently rubbed up and down before resting his cheek on the top of his head. Calum closed his eyes out of contentment for a split second before he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.

            Carefully, he moved his body so he could pull his phone out of his pocket without waking Logan. When he looked at the screen seeing his wife’s name and the request to FaceTime, he smiled, although slightly confused. He slid his finger across the screen to answer and held the phone up. “Why, hello, my love. I wasn’t sure you were going to have signal?”

            “Ah, you see, there’s Wi-Fi here,” She took a sip of wine, “for the adults.” Her lips stretched into the most glorious smile as she laughed and then looked at something on the other side of her phone. “They also have alcohol and a specific lounge for chaperones.” When she shrugged and took another sip of wine, Calum laughed. “How’s everything at home? Good?”

            Calum looked down at Logan who was still deeply asleep, then back at the phone. “Everything is great here.” Calum then moved the phone to show Logan’s sleeping form and he heard his wife on the other end of the phone coo. “Tuckered him out I guess.”

            “Tell me what guys have been doing, and then I’ll tell you all about Aiden’s trip.” She said while raising her eyebrows. Calum smiled and looked down at little Logan before telling all of what they’ve done the past two days.

            Aiden and his mom left before Logan woke up. Calum was sitting at the dining room table in front of his laptop with his headphone on, drinking a cup of coffee, when Logan slowly padded his way into the room. Calum was quick to remove his headphones and summon Logan over to him. Logan rubbed the sleep from his eyes as Calum lifted him onto his leg, “Daddy, where’s mama?”

            “She left with brother, remember it’s just us this weekend.” Calum ran the back of his fingers down Logan’s soft cheek.

            Hearing that, Logan perked up and his eyes twinkled. “Just you and me?” Calum nodded then rested his forehead on Logan’s. “Can we do something fun?” He had another twinkle in his eyes.

            “What do you want to do, son? This weekend is all about you, and me.” Calum wiggled a finger on Logan’s side, causing the boy to giggle and squirm in his grip.

            Logan finally caught his breath and looked into Calum’s eyes. “I wanna swim with Daddy.” It broke Calum’s heart. The reality is that every summer Calum is on tour, Logan has never had a chance to enjoy the pool with him, only with his mom and Aiden.

            Calum let an empathetic smile stretch across his face, “Of course, let go put our swimmers on.” Together, they made their way up the stairs. Calum helped Logan change and then Logan followed Calum across the hall and sat on the edge of the bed while Calum changed. Once they were both in the correct swimming attire, they made their way to the backyard. Calum found Logan’s pool floatie and tossed it into the pool. Holding onto Logan, they both dipped into the pool. After Calum grabbed the floatie he placed Logan in it and started to drift through the pool with him. They splashed each other and played with some toys they had lying around until Logan was bored with swimming.

            They both changed into dry clothes and Calum sat Logan at the table with a coloring book while he prepared lunch. Calum looked up from his preparations to look at Logan. He was humming to himself with a marker in his hand while he swung his legs back and forth, happily scribbling on the page. After lunch was ready, Calum sat next to his son and they ate together, something they didn’t do very often, and almost as suddenly Calum had that thought, so did Logan, “Daddy?” Calum hummed in response, “you work too much.” Calum froze, than after a second focused his attention on Logan. “You never spend time with me, because you’re working.”

            Calum was pretty sure people could hear his heart shatter across the globe. “I know, baby, and I’m sorry. But I have to work to take care of you and brother and Mama.”

            “But can’t you take care of us by staying home?” It was then that Logan looked up from what he was doing, into Calum’s eyes, effectively destroying what was left of Calum’s heart.

            Calum wasn’t prepared for this. Aiden wasn’t bonded to him like Logan was. Aiden never asked these questions. Calum looked away from Logan and took a deep breath to try to gather his thoughts, “The only way I can stay home is if I work. If I don’t work, then we wouldn’t have all the things we have now.”

            “But you’d always be home.” Logan cut him off.

            His head dropped, why was he so bad at this? His wife would know just what to say if she was here. “I’m sorry I’m not home, Logan, but I’m home now, and it’s just you and me this weekend. We can do anything we want.”

            Logan’s head popped up, “Anything?” Calum nodded with a smile.

            A devious smile stretched across Logan’s face, and with that smile led to a day full of doing anything Logan wanted. Including going to the movies, playing on the playground in the park down the street, going to the mall, and getting ice cream. By the time they were on their way home, Calum couldn’t understand how Logan wasn’t exhausted, Calum was. Calum glanced in the rearview mirror, Logan was strapped into his car seat, the radio was playing, and Logan kicked his feet back and forth, singing along to the song that was on the radio. Calum smiled to himself before looking back to the road, as much as he hates to admit it, he wished he was home more too.

            It was about nine in the evening when Calum was finally able to get Logan to go to sleep. Figuring that he hadn’t taken a nap he’d sleep all the way through the night. After closing the door, Calum headed to the studio to get to work on some songs Michael had sent him.

            All four of the band members were on a zoom video working out some songs about an hour after Calum had put Logan to bed. They were trying their hardest to work through a song that no one could get onto the same page with. Calum was frustrated, and honestly reaching the point of pure exhaustion. With a frustrated sigh, he leaned back and took his headphones off, resting them around his neck. Almost at that exact moment, he heard a tiny cry from down the hall. “Fuck, hold on guys.” Calum said aloud as he removed the headphones completely before rushing to open the door.

            When he opened the door, he found Logan standing in the middle of the hallway, hands pressed to his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. Calum rushed kneel in front of Logan, “What’s wrong, why aren’t you in bed, baby?” Calum was quick to wipe the tears off Logan’s face. 

            Logan took a few labored breaths before attempting to speak, “I th-thougt you were i-in your room, a-and you weren’t.”

            Calum enveloped Logan into his arms and coaxed his head to his shoulder before walking Logan back to the studio. He sat back down in his chair, Logan still crying hysterically against his shoulder. “Give me a minute, guys.” Calum said before muting his microphone. Calum continued to comfort his crying son before Logan finally fell silent. “Want to stay with daddy while he works?” Logan nodded against his shoulder. With that, Calum put on his headphones and motioned towards the guys that he was back. “I have a guest joining me for the rest of the night.”

            It was like Logan wasn’t even there, the only difference was Calum couldn’t get to his bass, but everyone worked around it. Eventually, Logan fell asleep, and eventually it was late enough that everyone called it a night. As Calum was walking down the hallway, he paused. Normally, it was at this time that he would put Logan in his own bed and go cuddle the woman who shares his bed, but she wasn’t here. They were both missing her, and he knew it. So, instead of dropping Logan in his own bed, Calum turned to his own room and took Logan with him. That night, they both slept in the ‘big bed’ as Logan called it when he got a chance to be in it.

            When Calum woke up, he made sure to make Logan and him a big breakfast and do everything he wanted. Together, they played board games, watched Logan’s favorite TV shows and movies, made his favorite food, swam in the pool some more, took Duke for a walk around the neighborhood, made his favorite dinner, then finally settled on the couch to watch Logan’s favorite movie, Cars. “And that catches us up to this moment when you called me.” Calum says with a chuckle.

            “Please tell me you’re still watching Cars.” She says as the wine glass touches her lips.

            “The remote is too far away to change it.”

            “Don’t lie, you like it too.”

            “Shut up.” She laughed a hearty laugh and Calum chuckled along with her. “I miss you.” 

            “I miss you too, honey.” She said as she sat forward and looked at the phone with incredible seriousness. 

            Calum smiled and looked down at Logan and kissed the side of his head, “Tell me about Aiden’s trip, love.” With that, she smiled and wiggled to get comfortable and started explaining her last two days. Calum closed his eyes to listen to her talk, absolutely content with his life. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't really have a tag list anymore? So imma just tag my number 1 friend @talkfastromance4

If anyone wants to be added back to my tag list (I'm going to start writing more on the weekends) Please send me a message 😊

[formulax]

The Rebirth of Adam and Eve; a short story for my English class, following this prompt:

I am Eve, and I want to leave this place.

It is spring at our estate, and I am gardening. The estate, called Eden, is massive and modern, sharp and blinding white. Large windows reflect the too-blue sky, and a plain rectangular pool sits in our massive backyard. The mansion sits at the top of a big, green hill, but from the garden I cannot see much, for there is a tall white wall surrounding the property. It shields us, encases us, traps us. We are the highest home in the Hills, and everyone is always looking up at us. Every day I find myself pacing around the estate like one of those poor caged animals, running my fingers along the white wall. I want to leave this place.

I hear the sound of the gates opening, and I stand. Adam is home.

I do not hate Adam. He is kind. He laughs at my jokes, he smiles when I smile, and he gazes at me in the way a husband should gaze at his wife. He brings me gifts and offers me my favorite dishes. However, I do not love Adam. He is false. There is something robotic about him; everything he does is meticulously planned and perfectly presented. I hardly blame him because it was how he was raised to act. Father is very particular about the behavior of his sons, especially after losing one. So, Adam worships Father, because Father gave him everything.

Father owns a very large, very profitable software company, to which Adam is heir. He has incredible influence in the industry and seemingly infinite wealth to go with it, with his creations spread in stores across the world. Adam has prepared for inheritance for years, though not as long as his brother before him. And I will be the beautiful woman at his side, smiling and nodding while men talk of business, statistics, and programming. I am very good at acting.

As a child, wealthy myself, I wanted to run away and become a writer, fighting and struggling in the bowels of the city. My mother was quick to remind me that movies are fantasy. They don’t take women seriously there, she’d say, tossing my childhood scribbles aside like garbage. I never picked up a pencil again. I did not protest when I met Father, or when he told me I would marry his middle son. My future as a woman of value was assured. Adam made me, my mother would say. I believed her. I still believe her. Without him, I would mean nothing. With him, I am Eve, Adam’s wife. There: a title, to go with my name. The title of a trophy.

“My love!” My husband approaches, still in his work suit, his jacket over his shoulder. He is smiling, but he seems tired; he always is after work. His dark hair is neatly kept, and his deep brown eyes are happy to see me. I dust off my pants and drop my tools to greet him. He holds my face and kisses me. His kisses are always hesitant, brief, and born of obligation.

“How was work?” I ask, the same question as every other useless day.

“It was fine,” he replies, the same response as every other useless day. He holds my hand in both of his. “And how was your day?”

“Lovely,” I lie, offering him my signature smile. He smiles back, but there is something sad in it that I cannot quite place. I get hints of that, sometimes. I worry that my romantic indifference is beginning to show. I want him, need him, to think I love him. I cannot disappoint.

“Eve,” he begins, his voice heavy. He takes a breath. I am afraid. “Do you get lonely here, alone all day? Maybe I could... get you a dog. Or, maybe a cat? Or anything, dear!”

He is so beautifully ignorant. I laugh and pat his chest. I wish I could be more like him.

“I’m okay, Adam. I like the quiet.”

Adam offers me his arm, and I take it. Leaving my gardening tools on the ground beside the beautiful but meaningless fruits of my womanly labor, we walk inside.

It’s the next day when I see a figure in my garden, pulling petals from a rose. His hair is black, unkempt, and shoulder-length, and his skin is pale and tattooed. He’s wearing black leather in the spring heat, and he stands in contrast to the bright white wall behind him. On the back of his jacket is a pair of red dragon wings. He turns his head when he notices me.

“Hello Eve,” he says, and he grins. He faces me and pulls the last petal from the flower, tossing the mutilated stem aside. He has snakebite lip piercings, and his eyes are dark and mischievous. I recognize his face from old pictures Adam still keeps, but shouldn’t.

“Lucifer,” I say. He scowls and rolls his eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Call me Satan,” he corrects, and I nod. I will not deny him an identity.

Satan was once Lucifer, Father’s eldest son, and first heir to the company. He was deep in the process of training, having been declared heir since childhood. He was a model son, proper and polite, but one day he changed. He made his way into the company headquarters, destroyed years’ worth of work, and disappeared somewhere into the underbelly of the Hills. I never got to meet him in person, but the rumors made him out to be a selfish, sadistic snake. Adam has never confirmed or denied any of them. All I see in front of me now is a man, vaguely resembling Adam and Father, and yet so different from both. Still, his grin makes me nervous.

“How did you get here?” I ask, and Satan twirls a strand of black hair around his finger with a smirk. He doesn’t answer, so I choose another question. “What are you doing here?”

“Be not afraid, Eve!” Satan declares, startling me. He speaks quickly, with the cool and confident voice of someone raised to be a public speaker. He clasps his hand in front of him and takes a few prancing steps closer to me. “I only want to check up on you.”

“On me,” I repeat, raising an eyebrow. Satan nods. “Not on Adam?”

“Oh, him too, but he wouldn’t give me the time of day if he saw me.” He waves his hand dismissively and looks around. He squints against the bright sun and takes a pair of sunglasses from his breast pocket. “This place is hideous. Have you ever realized that?”

“Satan, it’s our house,” I reply, not exactly denying his claim. Evidently, he notices that, because he laughs loudly and pats my arm with a gloved hand.

“So we understand each other.” He leans away and turns back towards the wall before I can protest his claim. He scoffs at it. “This wall does its job well, keeping you from getting out. It sure was hard to get in. How long has it been since you’ve left this place?”

I hesitate, and he raises an eyebrow at me. The words don’t form for at least half a minute; can I really not remember? I cover my mouth and look away. Days blur together.

“You don’t know,” Satan observes, smile dropping. He tilts his head and squints at me, looking deep into my eyes as if trying to find my very soul. “I’m quite good at reading people, you know. Your sadness is palpable. This place doesn’t do well for the mind of a creative.”

“What?” Fear grips my heart; what does he know? He points between my eyes.

“Your eyes give it away, really. You examine people’s facial expressions like you’re describing and interpreting every detail in your mind. Are you saving this for a story, Eve? Do you need me to be more interesting?” Satan laughs as I stumble away. I grip my chest. “Sorry, dear Eve, I don’t mean to scare. I only mention it because I’m a bit of a writer myself.”

“Really,” I snap, threatened by his jovial tone.

“My newest story,” Satan says, digging in his pocket, “is The Rebirth of Adam and Eve.”

With his hand emerges a red flash drive, held tight between thumb and finger. The letter A is scrawled on the drive in black pen. Satan is grinning at it, and at me, with a sinister knowledge that I do not have. I consider his words: rebirth can mean a lot of things. It certainly means some sort of death for us both, but death does not have to be a negative, necessarily.

“You should take this,” Satan suggests. His cryptic nature is simultaneously infuriating and intriguing. I’m convinced that he’s aware of this fact.

“And why is that?” I ask.

“You want something to change. I can’t say exactly what it will do for you, but it will do something. But—” He pulls his hand back. “Only if you show it to Adam.”

“So you can doom us both?” I accuse.

“So I can save you both,” he corrects. There is a sincerity in his eyes now that irks me. Something is telling me he cares for his brother, very deeply, and not just as an asset. “Eve, you don’t know how much power you have. This life can take a lot from you, but they can’t take your free will. Not really.”

“Free will,” I laugh. “I think you have too much faith. I’m only Eve.”

“No,” Satan exclaims, holding out the flash drive. “You are Eve!” And the way he says it is different, and the way he says it is beautiful.

I start to feel like myself for the first time since childhood. I take the flash drive.

It is late at night, and I sit in front of our computer, bouncing my leg and tapping the flash drive gently against the table. Adam sleeps upstairs, unaware of my troubled day. It occurs to me that I do not know what will happen when I hook up the drive to the computer. Satan destroyed years of company work; maybe within this drive is a virus, meant to take down the company entirely. Maybe doing this will ruin our lives. Maybe by rebirth, Satan meant that we’ll both be cast out onto the streets, as he did willingly to himself. Or maybe, he does want to save us. But save what? Our marriage? Our lives? Maybe it’s a warning, urging us to escape before some type of sinister attack. And if I show that to Adam, there is no guarantee on how he will respond.

Free will, I think. Satan was ambiguous but confident; I didn’t take him for an optimist. I’ve learned to distrust optimists. And yet, here I am. I stare at the flash drive. My breaths tremble. I am Eve, and Satan was right. I do want something to change. I want it so badly that I might do anything. I want it for both of us. So, I uncap the flash drive, and I plug it in.

I don’t expect the images that appear before me. I gasp, and lean forward, the light of the screen illuminating me in the dark. There is no trick, or virus, or warning. There are only paintings. Beautiful, detailed paintings, Renaissance-like with gorgeous depictions of fairies and sirens, dragons and devils. The stories are clearly told but critically complex. The colors are beautiful, setting strongly felt tones that bring me to tears. I find myself awestruck but confused; why would Satan show me this? There must be some hint somewhere that I cannot see. I realize that I need to show Adam, as Satan instructed. I stand and turn to seek my husband’s knowledge.

Adam is already there. He stares, shocked, with shaking hands. He is looking beyond me, at the computer. I open my mouth to explain, but he stumbles forward and sits in the chair I was just in. With one hand covering his mouth, he clicks slowly through the collage, shoulders shaking with sobs. In an instant, his head is in his hands, and he is crying. I gasp and go to him, afraid of what I have done.

“My brother,” he cries, “he gave these to you, didn’t he?”

“Yes, Adam I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you’d react this way!” I exclaimed. “I don’t know what happened with these, or with him, but I’ll cast that demon and these paintings out of my mind!”

“No, no!” Adam took my hand and held it to his chest. “Eve... these paintings are mine!”

“What?” I can feel his heartbeat underneath my hand. I realize I have never seen him cry. It is so, handsomely human of him. So, wonderfully Adam.

“Eve, when Lucifer was still around, I used to paint. As a child, I had these glorious images in my head, and—and I needed to get them out, somehow, so, I asked Father for a painting tutor. Back then, he was more accepting of those things, so he let me paint. But after Lucifer left and I became the heir, I just wanted to focus on work, so I stopped,” Adam explains, gazing longingly at the painting on the screen, where a man and a beautiful fairy woman are sitting under an apple tree and playing unknown string instruments. “Lucifer loved music. He would play the most incredible things on his guitar. But it led him astray from his purpose. So, I gave up my own passion, to show my loyalty. But Eve, you said my brother was here?”

“He said this flash drive would save us,” I admit, and Adam sighs. I smile in realization. “Oh, Adam, all he wants is for you to paint again! This isn’t a scheme at all!”

“No, it is,” Adam snaps, standing up. I see the fight within him, his creativity against the desire to be a proper son. “He wants me to do what he did, he wants me to leave.”

“Would that be so bad?” I take his hands in mine. “Adam, ever since I’ve known you I thought this life was what you wanted. But it’s killing you, just like it’s killing me! Do you really love this place? Love your job, your company?”

And Adam can’t answer the way he is supposed to. He breathes, and sobs, and shakes his head. He leans forward, and I embrace him as he cries. I run my fingers through his curly hair, and he sinks into my arms, into my understanding and care. I feel guilty over how much of himself he has given to me when I have given him nothing in return.

“As a child, I liked to write stories,” I whisper, and his breathing begins to calm. “They were silly, and childish, but I loved creating a world that could be wholly mine, when the real world wasn’t. It was a comfort to me, and everyone wanted to take it away from me. I don’t think I’ve written since I was a teenager, but I want to do it every day. Every day.”

It hurts more than I thought it would, but at the same time I feel a weight lift off my back, and a wall between us fall. Adam pulls away to look at me.

“You aren’t happy here, either,” he says, sad and guilty. I can only nod. His face pinks, out of embarrassment and anger, and he looks away. “You aren’t happy, and I offered you a dog. Eve, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Adam, it’s okay!” I hold his face and turn it back towards mine. “Now you know.”

“You should go,” Adam urges, leaning his forehead against mine. I do not know why my heart is swelling so much at his closeness.

“You should come with me,” I urge back. I feel more confident than I have ever felt, and I want him to feel it too. I want him to feel like himself again. I also, admittedly, do not want to be apart from him. “What if we left, right now, tonight? What if we found a place? Adam, we can do whatever we want. We can be whatever we want. We can create.”

“He would disown me, he would cut me off entirely,” Adam warns, the specter of Father still hanging over his head. I shake my head.

“I don’t care. Would you?” I watch his face as it twitches in thought.

“No,” he realizes, with widening eyes. He stands up straight, and bounces on his heels. He looks back at his paintings, and he smiles. It’s a beautiful smile, big and bright and real, and I realize I am falling, falling deeply in love with it. He takes my shoulders. “Let’s go—let’s go. Let’s go now!”

I laugh, and he blushes at me. He takes a hesitant step back, and suddenly, we become hyper-aware that we’re apart from each other. We stand there for a moment, longing, leaning towards each other. I wrap my arms around myself.

“We should get dressed,” I suggest. He gasps and nods.

We run, hand in hand, towards the gates of Eden. We are laughing, filled with fear and excitement and adrenaline. When we pass the large gate, there is a red convertible waiting for us. A familiar shape is sitting with his feet on the dashboard and his hands behind his head.

“Lucifer,” Adam gasps, stopping short. Satan grins and waves. Adam is suddenly afraid, holding a hand out to stop me. “Were you waiting for us this whole time?”

“No, I left for fast food,” Satan admits, reaching a hand over and lifting a large soda.

“It’s been a long time, Luce, I—” Adam mumbles, approaching more cautiously.

“Call me Satan,” Adam’s brother says, waving off past transgressions with a flick of his wrist. “I’m here to take you and the lady away from here. If you want that.”

“I... Of course,” Adam whispers, smiling. Satan laughs and starts his car. We climb inside, me in the passenger seat and Adam behind me. Just as we do, Adam’s phone begins to ring. He jumps, looks at the screen, and grimaces. “Oh, it’s Junior.”

Satan and I exchange glances. Junior is the youngest of Father’s sons, and the closest to Father by far. With Adam gone, Junior would become heir to the company. It would be fitting enough for him; as far as I’m aware, he loves his job. Adam sighs before answering the phone and putting it on speaker for us to hear.

“Adam, you should get back inside,” Junior’s voice warns, calm and diplomatic.

“Junior, you’ll take the company, and you’ll do well,” Adam reassures.

“You know if you leave here, you’ll never be able to come back. I’ll take up your forsaken responsibility, but you will lose it forever. You will lose everything. And we will all miss you.”

Adam looks to me for guidance. I hold out my hand; he takes it and squeezes it. I want him to remember the stroke of a paintbrush, the smell of the paint. I want him to remember what it feels like to smile, so I do it for him. I remember the scratch of a pencil, the exhilaration of watching the words in my mind string together in beautiful ways. We both look at each other, and think of artwork, and free will, and ourselves. Adam smiles back at me, so wonderfully himself, and I think he has fallen in love with me.

“Goodbye, Junior,” he says. He hangs up the phone. We all let out a breath. Satan is watching him, worried about him. Adam nods to him with a growing grin. “Satan, let’s go.”

“To rebirth!” Satan shouts.

“To art!” Adam adds.

“To free will,” I say, because finally, I am free. Finally, I am Eve.

[doubleleoenergy]

Daddy Issues

Nobody does it like you do. I know how much it matters to you. I know that you got daddy issues

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, fingering (female receiving), oral (male receiving), Daddy Kink, passionate sex

Word Count: 2361

Author’s Notes: My GRAYstans unite! I have unlocked a new passion for Daddy!Grayson. Also, my headers either feature the reader image as Malia Tate from Teen Wolf or Jane Villanueva from Jane the Virgin.

“Are you SURE you want to make Sledge’s doghouse from scratch?” You asked, following your boyfriend, THE Grayson Dolan, into the backyard. Grayson and you had just adopted a puppy that he was FINALLY not allergic to, and he had become quite obsessed with wanting the absolute best for your new pup

“Babe, do you REALLY want our son to have some basic and boring dog house for the backyard, or wouldn’t it be more fitting for him to have a MANSION like the king he is?” Grayson suggests, wagging his thick eyebrows at you.

You gently shove his side, rolling your eyes at his response. “Fine, Sledge and I will just MONITOR your progress by the pool.” You call back to the pup, watching him gallop towards you both, wagging his tail. Grayson moves towards the garage to bring all of the wood and materials needed for the project onto the grassy area next to the pool, arranging the pieces by length.

Sledge lays down in the grass next to your lounge chair as you sit down, tightening your lavender string bikini bottoms on your hips. Today was GORGEOUS, the sun shining and the heat not sweltering, allowing for the perfect day to tan while you watched Grayson work.

You decided to start by tanning your back, lying with your face propped on a towel in the foldout chair. Your hands hold your phone out, scrolling through Instagram as you soaked in the summer rays.

Grayson started his plans by sawing the boards to the perfect length, pulling a pair of safety goggles over the top of his tousled long locks. You eye him carefully from where you lay, watching as he handled the saw with ease, cutting the board to its perfect size before continuing on to the next piece. Your eyes linger on the curve of his back muscles squeezing through the black tank top that clung to his figure.

Sledge barked, pulling you from your daze, demanding attention beside you. You place the phone by your side, smiling down as you sit up slightly to provide your furbaby with the attention he craved. “Are you watching Daddy work? Well, so is MOMMY.” You coo, running your fingers through his soft fur.

A half hour goes by, Grayson diligently putting together the pieces of wood, sweat dripping from his hair down through his beard. You decide it’s a good time for a hydration break, Sledge following you back inside the kitchen where you grab two bottles of water along with a dish to pour some out for your pooch.

“Gray, how about you take a quick break?” You chirped, approaching him as he leaned over and inspected his work. You hand him one of the water bottles, opening the other and pouring half into the dog dish you set beside your feet, Sledge lapping happily at the bowl.

“How’s it looking so far, boss?” Grayson teased, standing back to let you inspect his work. You tilt your head from side to side, putting your fingers out as a ‘frame’, closing one eye and then the other. Grayson let out a laugh as he watched you pretend to inspect like a ‘real’ boss, a huge grin spreading on his face.

“I’d say it looks sturdy so far, keep up the good work, EMPLOYEE.” You place a kiss to his cheek, sauntering back over to your lounge chair, sitting down to let the rays tan the front of your body.

After a few minutes of lapping at the water bowl Sledge moves back over to you, rolling happily in the grass. Grayson feels sweat drenching his black tank top, a mixture of the heat of the sun and the work he was putting into his project. He grabs the hemline and tugs it off, tossing the sweaty material in the grass next to him.

You can’t help but stop and OGLE at him when he removes it, a sinful image playing out in your mind. Your eyes roam over his sculpted chest, remembering how it felt when you ran your hands up and down his abdomen. Your eyes move up to look at his hair, long locks sticking to his forehead as he continues his work on the dog house. Lastly, your eyes fixated on his hands, watching the veins protruding as he hammered nails into the wood, forming the outside walls of what would be Sledge’s humble abode. Grayson looked DELICIOUS, and you couldn’t help the way your stomach flip-flopped at the sight, his cerulean swim trunks clinging to his hips.

“Hey G-Gray, I’m gonna go inside, watch Sledge for me, please?” He nodded, eyes fixated on the task at hand. You took one last glance in his direction, taking a mental picture before pulling open the screen door and heading directly towards your shared bedroom. 

You needed relief after watching him work, he wasn’t even TRYING to seduce you and yet you still felt dampness between your thighs. You opened the bedroom door and shut it behind you. Your body stumbled forward, flopping back against the bed, shimmying out of your bikini bottoms, tossing them to the floor.

Your eyes fluttered closed, REWINDING the image of Grayson working outside in your head, the back of your lids acting as a screen for the projected image. Your delicate fingers slid down your chest to your core, circling around your bundle of nerves and letting out a soft moan. You pictured the way he tossed his shirt off, how the sweat GLISTENED on his skin, that perfect beard you refused to let him shave.

Fingers move lower, parting your folds and moving in and out of your core, arching your back against the bed. You continued pumping your fingers in and out, feeling that familiar buildup in your chest when you heard the bedroom door open, Grayson taking in the sight of you.

“What are you doing, babygirl?” He asked, arms crossing against his bare chest. Your eyes snap open, sitting up straight and pulling the blanket over you. As if he HADN’T seen what you were doing just moments ago.

“N-Nothing, I think I am just exhausted from the sun. I figured I needed to lay down and rest a bit.” You stuttered, a hand moving from below the blanket to scratch nervously through your locks.

Grayson’s eyes grew dark as he approached you on the bed, standing just at the edge of it and holding your gaze. “Babygirl, don’t LIE to me, you know I don’t like it when you lie.” He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at you, eyes still locked on yours. “Were you TOUCHING yourself?” He asked.

Your cheeks start to feel hot, a rosy blush spreading across them. “Y-Yes, I was. You just looked so good outside and I didn’t want to bother you while you were working so I came in here and-” Grayson holds out his hand, silencing you before you can finish your sentence.

“You’re forgetting the rules, babygirl, REMIND me what they are.” He questioned, his voice lowering an octave. Your bottom lip quivers, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. “N-No touching myself, only DADDY gets to touch me.” You whispered, your gaze darting to the bed to avoid his stare.

“Look at ME.” He demanded, his tone making your eyes snap up immediately. “Yes, only daddy gets to touch you, and what happens when we disobey, babygirl?” You swallow the lump in your throat, eyes going wide. 

“Y-You, you get PUNISHED.”

“Exactly.” He responds, two fingers beckoning you towards the edge of the bed. “Turn around, ass up.” You follow his instructions, crawling to the edge of the bed and turning around. Grayson’s fingers grab your neck, pushing your head down against the mattress. “You’re going to count to ten for me, if you stop counting we’ll start all OVER.”

The first smack across your ass made your pussy tighten, wincing slightly at the burn of his thick hand against your skin. “O-One.” You sputtered. 

“Good girl, keep counting.” He commands, sending another smack to your flesh.

“T-Two...three...four...five.” Tears are welling up in your eyes, a mix of both pleasure and pain through each strike to your tanned skin. You don’t want to falter though, you know it’ll be MUCH worse if you add more slaps to the count.

“S-six...seven...eight...nine...ten.” Tears are now flowing down your face, staining your cheeks in the light coat of mascara you had applied that morning. Grayson moves the pressure off your neck, letting out a deep breath.

“What a good GIRL, see, I knew you could be good for me.” He flexes his hand in a fist and then stretches it out over and over, relaxing the muscles as the sting starts to dissipate. “I think it’s time that I get a THANK YOU.” You know EXACTLY what he’s asking, turning around to face him, eyes level with the thick bulge in his shorts.

“Yes daddy.” Your fingers tug down the shorts, his thick cock springing free against his chest. You lick your lips before reaching up, taking his cock into your hand and SLOWLY stroking it. Your mouth parts, lips curling around the tip, sucking and licking before moving them lower and lower down the base.

His fingers move to grip your hair, a groan of delight leaving his lips. “That’s it baby, open your mouth, let me fuck that perfect mouth of yours.” You do as you’re told, relaxing your jaw and letting him slide further. Not only was he thick, but LONG, tears welling up as he pushed all the way in, your nose touching the skin right below his belly button. He uses your hair as his reins, bucking his hips in and out, a mixture of your spit DRIPPING from the sides of your lips down your chin and neck. Grayson keeps his eyes on you, watching you sputter around him, his teeth grinding together. 

“Fuck, so beautiful.” He pulls out abruptly, a string of saliva linking your mouth to his cock, and you feel utterly EMPTY. Grayson tilts your head up with his hand, ushering you to get up. “That’s enough, don’t want to cum in your mouth today, want to cum inside you.”

His hands push you back against the bed, untying the bikini top you still wore, revealing your bare breasts to him. His hand moves to grip his cock, rubbing the red and swollen tip against your folds, a dark smile on his face. “You are already SO wet, babygirl. Do you want me to fuck you?” You nod up at him but you know that’s not what he wants, he wants you to use your WORDS.

“Yes, Gray...I mean, daddy. Please fuck me, want to feel you cum inside me.” The words are satisfaction, the code that unlocks his motions as he pushes inside of you, working in slowly as your walls INSTINCTIVELY tighten around him, pulling him deeper. After a moment he bottoms out, holding himself there, looking down at you.

“So fucking tight, babygirl. Your cunt was MADE for me.” He moves his hips, pulling out almost completely before slamming himself back in, eliciting a whine from your throat. He continues at the same pace, pulling almost completely out and pushing back in fast, your voice becoming louder which each thrust.

“Gotta keep it down, you know Ethan is still sleeping. Wouldn’t want to wake him up. Or maybe you do, huh?” He asked, two of his fingers snaking between your breasts down to your clit, circling it. “Want Ethan to know that you’re a SLUT for my cock? How your daddy is the only one that can please you?”

You moan loudly, your voice hoarse from the way he fucked your throat earlier. “Yes daddy, I want EVERYONE to know I’m yours.” His hips slap into you over and over, fingers circling your clit with more pressure now. He can tell you’re close to coming, your walls clenching and unclenching him, your thighs shaking as his own hold you apart.

“Uh-uh, gotta ASK if you can cum babygirl, you know better.” Grayson’s free hand moves to your neck, wrapping around it JUST enough that your breathing gets harder, but not enough that you might pass out.

“Fuck, PLEASE daddy, want to cum on your cock, want to show you how good I can be.” You choked out, picturing the way his hands had moved around the wood and saw earlier that were now around your throat.

Grayson is pleased by your words, eyes focusing on your face and his fingers rubbing against you faster. “Yes, babygirl, CUM on my cock.” He can barely finish his sentence before your orgasm hits you, crying out loudly, tears flowing from your eyes with pleasure. He continues his movements, feeling your walls tightening around him and knowing he can’t hold on anymore. “Gonna cum, baby, gonna coat your walls with me, want you LEAKING my cum.” A groan of satisfaction leaves his lips, his cock pressed deep inside you as he spurts thick ropes of cum into you. Your eyes roll back into your head, closing them as you continue coming down from your high, his hand moving off of your neck so you can fully breathe. His hips stutter briefly, letting you milk his cock before he pulls out, noticing your dazed state.

“Hey...come back to me baby.” He whispered, moving to lay down next to you, placing gentle kisses all over your face. Your eyes FINALLY flutter open, a lazy smile on your lips. “Sorry about that, you really did just look so good I couldn’t help myself.” Grayson let out a deep chuckle, tugging you into his side, his fingers roaming up and down your back.

“Don’t apologize baby, next time just tell me and I’ll stop to USE you how you need to be used.” He glances at the door, hearing a whine from Sledge, pulling him back to reality. “Our SON wants you.”

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nope, YOU can deal with him now, you fucked all of the energy out of me.”

Tagging my GRAYstans: @midnightf​ | @certainaesthetic​

[myaimistrue]

part two of the fic for my content creator celebration! in this one, cas uses bobby’s story to take care of five year old jack <3 

read part one here (you probably wanna read that first if you haven’t)

read the whole thing on ao3 here

Cas always pays close attention to his son. Jack is at the age where he wants to get into everything, where the whole world feels like it belongs to him and him alone (a common phase for children that seems to have only been exacerbated by Jack’s brief stint as God), so he spends a lot of time exploring their backyard and asking questions and pushing boundaries. Cas understands all of this—he’s read about it in many parenting books—and is always careful to keep an eye on Jack. So he is watching Jack play with legos on the back porch through the window, and he is perfectly able to see the precise moment Jack jumps to his feet to chase a butterfly into the yard, exactly how he goes tumbling down the porch steps without anything there to stop him.

“Daddy!” Jack is already wailing by the time Cas scoops him up in his arms, frantically searching his son for injuries. His knees are bleeding, and his little hands have gone raw at the bottom of the palms; Cas’s stomach twists at the sight of his son’s blood. “It hurts.”

“I know, honey, I know,” Cas says, carrying Jack into the house as quickly as he can. Realistically, he knows that though Jack has been hurt far worse in his life and that this kind of injury is typical for young children anyway, but some instinct within him cries out in fear and worry at the sound of Jack’s sobs.

Cas sits him down in one of the kitchen table chairs and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Stay right here, okay, Jack? I’m going to get something that’ll make you feel better.”

Jack only cries harder, so Cas moves quickly, digging out their first aid kit from the mess that is the pantry and laying it on the table. He mops up the worst of the blood before pulling out a small tube of antibiotic cream.

“This might hurt,” Cas says gently. “But I’ll be quick.”

“No,” Jack sobs. “No, don’t do it if it’s gonna hurt!”

Again, Cas’s heart twinges. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

That only seems to make it worse, and Jack’s crying reaches a fever pitch. Cas feels frantic panic rise up in him—Dean has always been better at this part, has always known how to soothe, how to turn Jack’s tears into laughter into just minutes. Cas wishes desperately that Dean would get back from the store, but it twists uncomfortably in his gut to picture what he’ll find: a hurt, crying child and a husband still too inhuman to know how to comfort anybody. Even at his gruffest, Dean naturally knows how to take care of the people he loves, something Cas still struggles with; he always makes Cas think of Bobby, the rough gentleness he would have about him as he patched Cas up and poured him a glass of terrible whisky.

And then Cas knows exactly what to do.

“Jack, how about this?” He says. “If you try to take a few deep breaths, I’m going to give you permission to do something me and Dee never let you do.”

Jack’s sobbing slows slightly. “W—what?”

“Take a deep breath with me, and I’ll tell you.” Cas inhales, long and slow, and Jack does the same, still sniffling and hiccupping as his crying slows to almost a complete stop.

“Good job, Jack.” Cas smiles fondly and smooths some of his son’s hair back from his forehead. “Now, I’m going to get you cleaned up and put some band-aids on. It’ll hurt. But,” Cas grins in spite of himself. “But, while I’m doing that, you’re allowed to say bad words.”

“Really?” Jack’s eyes go almost comically wide. He always wants to curse—it’s a holdover, Cas thinks, from his time as a sort-of-adult—and Dean and Cas have had to have many conversations with him about appropriate language for little children. “I can? You won’t tell Dee?”

“It’ll be our secret,” Cas says, winking. Jack giggles.

He starts dabbing the antibiotic cream on the cuts before there can be any more discussion, hoping that will be the best way to handle it. Jack’s face screws up in discomfort, and with the utmost conviction, he says, “Dammit, Daddy!”

Cas is almost surprised by the fullness and joyfulness of the laugh that punches out of him at that. He loves his son so much it hurts, a pleasant ache behind his ribs. “Exactly, Jack. Just like that.”

It doesn’t take long to patch him up, after that. Jack takes delight in cursing, going as far as a single “fuck” that sets him off into hysterical giggles. By the time Cas is done, Jack is smiling brightly and swinging his legs back and forth.

“Can I go back to my legos, Daddy?” he asks excitedly, all the tears and pain apparently forgotten. “I didn’t get to finish with my town. They’re having a talent show ‘n I gotta make sure it goes good.”

“Stay on the porch where I can see you from the window,” Cas says as he repacks the first aid kit. “And dinner will be ready soon.”

“Okay!” Jack hops down off the chair and zooms away, tossing a “Hi, Dee!” over his shoulder as he heads outside.

Cas glances at the doorway, and sure enough, Dean’s hulking an absurd amount of grocery bags into the kitchen. He dumps them all into a heap on the table and grins triumphantly at Cas.

“You know you could just ask for help,” Cas says, exasperated.

“It’s a matter of pride, sweetheart.” Dean presses an obnoxious, smacking kiss to Cas’s cheek, and Cas rolls his eyes but smiles anyway as he returns the first aid kit to its proper place.

“Woah, everybody alright?” Dean asks, eyes catching on the white and red case Donna bought them as a housewarming gift (“former angel, hunter, and God, or not, everybody needs a first aid kit!”)

“Jack fell down the back stairs earlier. He skinned his hands and knees,” Cas says. He looks at Dean, then folds himself into his arms—he wants to feel Dean’s steady warmth, and he can now if he wants; it’s been a while, but Cas isn’t sure he’ll ever get over the wonder of having Dean as his husband. “He was crying, but I managed to distract him enough to get him patched up.”

Dean hums as he runs a hand up and down Cas’s back. “Yeah? What’d you do?”

“Something Bobby taught me,” Cas says. He thinks of that night by Dean’s bedside, of the quiet hush in which Cas felt so much younger, somehow, than Bobby sitting beside him.

“Bobby?” Dean’s voice has gone heavy, the way it often does when talking about someone they grieve. “What was it?”

Cas smiles to himself. “I told Jack he could say any swear words he wanted.”

Dean starts to laugh, and Cas feels the vibrations of it through the entirety of his body. He thinks that if he still had his grace, he would feel it singing in joy at the sensation. “Oh, Jesus. I forgot about that.”

“Me too. But then Jack was so upset, and I couldn’t get him to calm down, and I remembered Bobby telling me that story.” Cas pulls back but tangles their hands together, because he always wants to be touching Dean. He glances to make sure Jack is still safely playing on the porch, then back at Dean. “It feels like so long ago.”

“It was,” Dean says. He squeezes Cas’s hand, and he looks a little sad, thinking about Bobby. But around that, there’s a comfortableness, a contentedness, that Cas has only recently seen in Dean’s eyes; it makes him smile. “Never woulda guessed back then that we’d have a kid of our own.”

“Me neither.” Without intending to, they both pivot to look at Jack, at his solemn focus as he rebuilds a lego tower. That feeling of home, of safety and warmth, suffuses Cas from head to toe. It occurs to him that the first time he ever felt that was in Bobby’s house, watching the boys goof around and laughing at them with Bobby. Cas thinks of him, wherever he is, with Karen and Rufus and all the people he’s loved, and for the first time in a very long time, Cas prays—for peace, for love, for comfort and safety. For home.

[andreafmn]

Running In Circles - Chapter 3

Word Count: 1,854

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 3/?

A/N: This is a short one. Just fully domestic fluff and it makes me very happy, but letting ya’ll know this happiness will be kinda short lived. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 3

“Okay, buddy, let’s see.” I looked at the instructions in my hands from the fort kit I had purchased. It seemed simple enough and something Jack would enjoy inmmensly. “Let’s do this.”

“Yeah!” Jack exclaimed. Hotch laughed from the kitchen, insisting he had to at least cook some dinner. In the oven were the batch of brownies I had put in 10 minutes ago. It took about 30 minutes to finish the fort and the look on Jack’s face was priceless. Then he spent 10 minutes perusing my movie collection until he finally landed on Toy Story, once again. 

“Well, dinner’s ready,” Hotch announced, bringing a tray with three plates of spaghetti to the fort.

“Daddy, daddy! Look at the fort!” Jack jumped up and down. It was a simple square base, big enough for three people and a triangle top. We covered it with thin sheets and hung wire twinkle lights on the top. Jack had run to my linen closet and gotten a thick comforter to lay on the floor, as well as most of the pillow that laid on my couch. He also arranged a couple of his plush toys in there to keep us company, as he put it. 

“I see it, buddy. It looks great!” Hotch smiled brightly. “Now, what do we say?”

“Thank you, (Y/N)!”

“No problem, little man,” I smiled. “How about you invite your dad inside so we can eat some spaghetti?”

“Yes! Come on, dad!”

Hotch sat down next to me and passed a plate to Jack and me, putting a napkin on his son’s collar. The small kid smiled at his dad and dug into his plate without another thought, the sound of the movie filling in the background. 

“You know,” I mused. “It was pretty bold of you to cook spaghetti for an Italian.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, I hope it’s good.”

I smiled and took a bite of the noodles. Hotch stared expectantly to see if he passed the Italian test. I chewed slowly, dragging the process along, until finally giving him a thumbs up. Hotch sighed and smiled before digging into his own plate.

After finishing the pasta, I took the three plates to the kitchen and served three plates of brownie with ice cream for me and the Hotchner duo. When those plates were empty, Jack laid his head on my lap and his feet on his dad’s and watched the movie. An hour and a half later, the blonde boy was softly snoring and peacefully sleeping.

“Looks like the little man ran out of juice,” I said as I ran my hand through his soft hair. “I think we should take him up to the guest room.”

Hotch softly placed his hand under Jack’s arms and carried him up the stairs to the first door on the right, careful not to wake the tired child. I pulled the sheets away and Hotch laid the kid on the bed. I left the room to let Hotch change Jack into his pajamas and went downstairs to clean up and pack away the fort for Jack to take home.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” I jumped at the sound of Hotch’s voice and he laughed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay, and don’t mention it.” I sat down next to him on the island. “Whatever you need, seriously, I’m here.”

He smiled and engulfed me in a hug; time slowed down. For a moment, just for a moment, it was only us. There was no hurting, no unspoken emotions, nothing. I breathed in his scent and took in the warmth coming from the closeness of his body to mine. He relaxed into me and let himself be human for a change. 

All good things come to an end.

“Well, it’s getting late,” I said breaking the hug and clearing my throat. “Um, there’s towels in the guest bedroom closet and extra blankets just in case it gets too cold during the night.”

“Great, I’ll see you in the morning, then. Good night, (y/n).”

“Good night, Hotch.” I smiled and waited for his figure to disappear in the stairs before opening the doors leading to my backyard. I breathed in deeply and tried to easy my heartbeat.

“What are you doing, (Y/N)?” I whispered to myself.

I spent the night tossing and turning, trying my best to not think that the man I liked was sleeping just a hallway away. Before I knew it, the sun was peeking in through my bedroom window, announcing that I had wasted a whole night of sleep inside my head. 

So, I got up and went downstairs to work on breakfast. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, the works. I put a pot of coffee to brew and took out some toppings for the pancakes. As I was finishing with the bacon, I heard tiny feet running down the staircase.

“Morning, (Y/N)!” Jack exclaimed, hugging my waist since it was as high as he could reach. 

“Hey, little man,” I said ruffling his hair. “Wanna help me set the table?”

He nodded and grabbed the forks I was holding, placing them rapidly next to the three plates that were already on the round table.

“Jack, where’s dad?” I questioned.

“He’s still sleeping.” He shrugged.

“I have an idea, little man. How about we wake him up with some silly string?”

“What’s silly string?” My mouth dropped. I headed to the hallway closet and took out two cans of silly string.

“This, buddy, is silly string,” I presented the can. “You press the button here down and string comes out.”

“Like this?” Jack asked as a string of green plastic was expelled from the can. He shrieked gleefully and his excitement grew as he saw the grin on my face.

“Just like that, bud. Let’s go wake up dad.” 

He nodded excitedly and we walked up the stairs quietly. Once we reached the door, I turned the doorknob slowly and instructed Jack to go jump on the bed to surprise his dad. He smiled at me and when the door was completely open, he ran up to the bed and jumped.

When Hotch’s eyes shot open, Jack and I pressed the cans and shot silly string all over Hotch.

“Good morning, daddy!” Jack screamed as he flung the can around. Definitely a mess I’d have to clean later but very worth it at the moment.

“Morning, Jack!” The older man said as he brought his kid down tickling him slightly. “Is it safe to assume this was your idea, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, sir. It is,” I responded between laughs. “We have a very strict protocol in this household when it comes to wake up calls.” 

“That’s a very effective wake up call.” Hotch smiled.

“Well, now that we’re all up, we can eat some breakfast,” I said. “There’s some chocolate chip pancakes for you, little man.”

“Yes!” He excitedly left the room and ran downstairs.

“And there’s coffee, too.” I smiled and Hotch got up to join us downstairs.

“(Y/N), thank you.” Hotch said as he stood on the doorstep ready to go home. “This is exactly what Jack and I needed, and I have no idea how I’ll ever be able to make it up to you.”

“Hotch, there’s absolutely no need.” I laid a hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze for reassurance. “I meant it when I said I’d always be here for you both. Whatever it is you need.”

Hotch smiled and left with an ‘I’ll see you at work’, and a Jack frantically waving from the backseat.

And that’s how our sleepovers started. Most of the times we had days off Hotch would come over and we’d build a fort with Jack and watch movies or played games. On hot days, we’d play around in the pool. Sometimes with the squad, but more often than not, just the three of us. If ever he needed it, I would take care of Jack so he could have a day to himself. These nights were happening so often, I transformed one of the guest rooms into a room for Jack. Hotch started leaving some of Jack’s clothes and toys. My house started becoming a second home for the Hotchner boys.

Slowly we grew closer and closer as friends, even if I wanted more. His friendship was too important for me to lose what we already had.

Back at work, it was business as usual. The team was none the wiser, but they could see that our relationship had gotten closer. JJ would always give me a smirk when she saw us hugging in his office, Derek would wiggle his eyebrows at me, and Penelope would silently squeal and flail her arms whenever she saw us in proximity.

Today was no different. Reid, Emily, Derek, and I were in the briefing room each stirring their wanted sugars and creams into the coffees I had brought in the morning. Reid quickly examining the box of donuts I had also brought along to pick the best one.

“Come on, baby girl,” Derek chuckled. “What’s going on between you and the boss man?”

“Well, Derek, if you must know,” I played along. The trio closed in as I pretended to look around for any eavesdropping ears. “Absolutely nothing. We’re just friends.”

“Come on, (Y/N),” Emily responded annoyed. “There has to be something. Friends don’t look at each other the way you both do.”

“My dearest Emily, I’m serious. I’ve just tried to be there for him in these very difficult times.” I sipped my coffee. “And I very much enjoy Jack’s company.”

“You know,” Spencer chimed in. “Oxytocin and dopamine, which are often referred to as the love hormones, affect pupil size. The brain gets a surge of these chemicals when you’re sexually or romantically attracted to someone. This boost of hormones causes pupils to dilate. So, really, if we wanted to know if something was happening all we have to do is pay attention to their eyes.”

“Thank you, Spence.” I laughed. “Now I’m gonna have to use sunglasses everywhere.”

“So that means there is something to look out for!” Emily chirped.

“No,” I cleared my throat. “It means that I don’t want to be stared at all the time by profilers, thank you very much.”

“Whatever you say, (Y/N), whatever you say.” Emily laughed.

After that, playful side eyes and nudges were implemented to our daily routine. They’d smirk whenever Hotch praised me and stared whenever he was even remotely close to me. At first it was funny, but it made me extremely nervous to think that Hotch could catch on. Although, it had been a couple of months with this behavior and thankfully, the unit chief had yet to figure it out, as oblivious to our teammates’ behavior as he was to my feelings for him.

Our friendship continued to flourish and strengthen as I pushed my feelings down in an effort to forget about them. It did not do me any good but, if this was the only way to keep him close, I would endure it.

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Tag: @ssamorganhotchner

[reidetic]

Whining and Dining (Spencer Reid/F!Reader)

prSummary: Reader teases Spencer by sexting him during a team dinner. Chaos and smut ensues. 2.7k word count.

A/N: Hi! I got to write this for @thisgirl-knm​ for our discord’s fic swap. This was so much fun to write, and I hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I loved writing it. 

CW: swearing, daddy kink, unprotected sex, penetrative sex

The dinner was one I had been looking forward to for a while now. We hardly ever got weekends off these days, what with the country seemingly crawling with killers. Rossi had planned a big evening at his house, fine dining a la David Rossi. So, there was pasta and wine to be had, and no shop talk allowed. It sounded like a blissful evening. There was only one problem. Spencer Reid had not touched me in weeks. It was understandable, as the team still didn’t know about us, and being on constant cases meant any time we got to go home we scrambled for our beds and passed out. But I was beginning to get impatient, and tonight I was determined.

“Y/n, are you ready?” Spencer calls from the living room, and I giggle to myself, turning to look in the mirror. I’m wearing his absolute favorite dress on me, paired with one of his blazers rolled to the elbows, the blazer resting just below the hemline of the dress. 

“I’m coming! Just needed to grab a jacket.” I toss a longer duster coat over my ensemble and pick up my purse and head towards him, and he smiles, a huge grin. 

“You’re wearing that dress.” He smirks a little and pulls me close to him, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Any particular reason?”

I laugh, not wanting him to see through me just yet. “Figured it was as good of an occasion as any. Are we still taking separate cars?” I reach up to grab my keys, and he grimaces but nods. He still hates driving.

“If that’s still okay with you. Less questions that way.” I know he’s right, but the feeling of hiding settles in my stomach like a rock. We both would never live it down, and the HR paperwork seems like a giant headache on top of all the other paperwork we’re drowning in. Not to mention the lectures, the seminars, it’s just a lot. 

“It’s fine, just double checking!” I lean up to kiss his cheek, and he opens the door, ushering me out.

The drive is innocuous, an easy half hour with Spencer following me out of the city. We’re the last ones to arrive, but I can easily blame that on traffic. After all, it’s DC. Pulling up, I marvel at the house before me. I swear it gets bigger each and every time I see it. I go in first, letting Spencer follow behind me a few moments later.

“Ah, she’s here! Benvenuta, darling!” I smile as Rossi opens the door and pulls me in for a hug, the smell of Scotch following him.

“Running a little late, aren’t we, y/n?” Morgan follows, his joking tone betraying his words. He reaches out and takes my jacket, hanging it on a coat rack to his left.

“You know how traffic out of the city gets.” I smile invitingly, making my way back towards JJ, Garcia, and Emily, taking a seat on the sofa beside them. “It is so good to see you outside of the bullpen.”

“Ah! No work talk.” Emily exclaims, handing me a glass of red wine. “We’re all here except Spencer. Where is he, anyways?” She muses, and I balk. Just as I’m about to make an excuse, the doorbell rings.

“Speak of the devil!” JJ laughs, and the greeting process begins again, with much less physical affection this time, save Garcia, who of course runs to hug him tightly. He’s learned to tolerate and maybe even enjoy her hugs over the years. 

For appearances sake, I call out a short, teasing, “What took you so long, Reid?” He shakes his head at me and just offers a simple excuse about getting caught behind a train out of the city. It works for the team, and we all chit chat for a while, nursing our drinks and pilfering Rossi’s precariously placed appetizers. Eventually, Rossi announces it’s time to move to the backyard for the main course, and small cheers fill the air. 

I make a quick excuse and step into the hall bathroom, pulling out my phone as the door clicks behind me. Opening up Spencer’s contact, I type out a small, teasing message.

‘Check your pocket.’

‘Y/n. What is this?’

‘You tell me.’

‘It seems to be your underwear, little girl.’ One seemingly quick second later, he follows it with another text. ‘You’re going to get us caught.’

‘Sounds like you should make sure we don’t, daddy.’ I slide my phone back in my blazer pocket and duck out of the bathroom, hurrying to join the others at the table. The only seat left is of course directly across from Spencer, seated in between Rossi and Emily. 

“Nice of you to join us, y/n.” Emily teases, and we all laugh. It’s nice to have a teasing moment between friends sometimes, and I intend to remind Spencer of that fully. After the attention leaves me, and focuses on Emily and JJ’s son, I pull out my phone and text him again.

‘You look distracted.’

‘I wonder why.’

‘Can I fix it, daddy?’

He sucks in a quick breath, choking on the water he’s drinking. He puts his phone back in his lap before glaring up at me briefly.

Morgan claps him on the shoulder. “You alright man?”

Spencer responds with a very obvious, “Yeah. I choked.” The team once again laughs it off and returns to their conversation, paying us no attention. 

‘You’re going to pay for that.’

I tune into the conversation then, purposefully ignoring the text, and pretend to not notice when the phone vibrates in my lap. Rossi is talking about his newest book, and I chime in with a quick, “Hey, we said no shop talk!” and Rossi relents, and Morgan brings up a subject change, something about Hank and Savannah.

I check my phone, and there are three messages waiting for me.

‘Are you ignoring me, little girl?’

‘That was a question.’

‘You’re in big trouble now.’ I stifle a giggle at that, and reach one leg across to him, slowly sliding my foot up his leg. 

‘Daddy, why? I’m innocent.’

‘Sure you are.’ He catches my foot and wraps one hand around my ankle, effectively stopping my teasing.

‘I am! You’re being mean.’

‘You’re about to see mean.’ He clears his throat and pretends to check the time. “It’s getting late, you guys. I should head out. It’s going to be an early morning for me.” He pushes his chair back and stands up, beginning to make his rounds. 

“Got some hot date, Reid?” I pipe up, laughing with Emily and JJ. What they don’t know will make for a funny joke someday.

He simply glares at me, offering Garcia her goodbye hug and makes his way back through the house. About thirty seconds later, my phone buzzes.

‘In 15 minutes, I’m going to call you. You’ll pretend it’s your neighbor, she’s been locked out and needs your help. Then you’ll meet me at my place. Understood?’

‘20 minutes.’

‘I said 15.’

‘Fine, daddy.’ I groan internally, knowing I’ve got a storm waiting for me back at his apartment. Good thing I’ve got tomorrow and Monday off, to heal the bruises he’s likely to leave on my ass.

Fifteen minutes later like clockwork, my phone starts to ring. I pick it up before anyone can see the caller ID.

“Hello?” I ask, as if I don’t know who it is.

“Remember what I said. I’m your neighbor, I got locked out.” I can hear his smirk through the phone, and it takes all I have not to huff. 

“Mary? You’ve been locked out? Yeah, of course, I’ll be on my way.” I hang up the phone before he can say anything else and extend a smiling apology to the team.

 “My neighbor got locked out. I need to go help her, I’ve got her spare.” The team is of course, smiling and accepting, and Emily comes to help me put on my coat and close the door behind me. 

“I thought your neighbor’s name was Beth.” Emily posits. I freeze, and turn to her with a smile.

“That’s what I said! Beth. My neighbor.” Emily smirks and pats me on the shoulder, laughing softly.

“Have fun with Spencer. Don’t worry, I won’t blow your cover.” She strides back towards the backyard and waves you off. All you can do is laugh, right? 

…

Emily takes a seat at the table, grins at Rossi and says, “You owe me 50 bucks.” 

Rossi groans. “Y/n admitted it? I thought it'd be the kid for sure.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a fifty, slapping it into Emily's outstretched hand while the team laughs.

...

The half hour drive home is nerve wracking and thrilling all at the same time. I wonder just how much trouble I’m in, or maybe he'll make it nice for me. He really won't be nice when he finds out Emily knows. 

I pull up to his apartment, nervously stealing the last on street parking in front. Guess his neighbors will have to walk. 

I make my way up to his door and shake off the nerves, settling back down into a bratty state. It's what he deserves, not paying me any attention. I bring a hand up to knock on his door, but he opens it before I can rap against the wood.

“Hello, little girl. You took quite a while.” He motions to grab my coat and ushers me in and closes the door. Even when he's angry, he's still a perfect gentleman.

“About that…Emily may have made a comment insinuating she knows that we are together.” The whole sentence comes out more like a squeak and he steps forward, pressing me against the door I just came through. 

“And who's fault is that?” His knee comes ip to rest in between my legs, the tiniest bit of attention under my skirt. He leans forward and starts to press kisses into my neck, leaving barely there traces of his tongue.

“I think we were both at fault there.” I snicker, craning my neck to give him better access.

“Oh? And who started the texting tonight?” One of his hands begins to snake down and trail back up my skirt, pulling me down on his thigh. “Because it wasn't me.” I whimper at the contact and he has the audacity to laugh at me.

“You could’ve s-stopped me.” I pull off his blazer, tossing it behind us and start to unbutton his shirt when he stops me.

He catches my chin and forces it up, looking into my eyes. “Did I give you permission?” 

“No.” Despite my words, my fingers keep up their work of undoing his shirt.

“Then stop, little girl.” His voice is a warning, low and quiet.

“Make me.” In one swift move he grabs both of my wrists and pins them above my head, effectively stopping any motion I might've made. Except for the part where I could grind against his knee.

“Oh, you pitiful thing. So needy for me that you have to rub against my thigh for just a little bit of friction, hm?” He's laughing at me, but he's holding his thigh just where I can get myself off, and I’m refusing to hold back my moans. So be it if his neighbors know what he's into. 

“Please, daddy.” Being held up against the door, there's only so much I can do for myself. 

“Please what? What do you want?” His words are kind but his tone is mocking, and his smile gives him away. He's having fun with this, torturing me.

“Please, help me, let me ride you, something, daddy, please.” I've never felt more embarrassed that I’m so turned on by being denied like this, but anything this man does turns him into more of a sex god.

He takes the begging, releases me, and sits on the couch in the living room. It occurs to me then that his blinds are open, and I decide then I don't care. If the team knows, the whole city can know. I swing a leg over his lap, straddling his thigh and locking my fingers around his neck. 

His hands meet my hips and he pushes me down on his thigh, giving me more of that delicious pleasure. “Go on, little girl. Ride my thigh until you finish. But you better ask permission first.” 

I bite my lip and nod at him, uttering a soft and whiny, “Yes, Daddy.” I rock myself back and forth, loving this attention I’m so desperately craving. I feel the pressure build in my stomach and throw my head back, moaning loudly as it builds and builds. 

“Let me finish, please? Can I please?” The sentence hardly makes sense but luckily he's feeling nice, at least this time. 

“Go on, little girl. Be good for me.” And with his words, it sends me over the edge and he kisses me, threading his tongue through my mouth and silencing my screams of his name. 

“Oh, thank you, thank you.” The brat is wiped out of me at this point, too tired to keep of the façade that he doesn't own me.

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head ever so slightly at me. “You made a mess, baby.” He pushes me off of his lap and motions for me to get his pants off, which I do, tossing them behind us. He makes quick work of my dress, seeing as how my underwear were already off and in his pocket from earlier. “Stand up.”

“Why?” I whine, slumping my head against the couch cushion. 

“Because I fucking said so.” He grabs my arms and pulls me up, all but throwing me over the side of the couch. 

He smooths over my ass, humming appreciatively. I feel his erection pressing up against me, and I arch my back and wiggle into him. 

“Oh so eager, my little girl.” He chuckles and traces a finger through my wetness, eliciting a louder moan than expected from him. “All this just from my thigh?” With no warning, he thrusts into me all at once. 

“Fuck! Daddy, you feel so fucking good.” I moan, the pleasure heightening my senses and making me feel all but drunk. One glass of wine at Rossi’s is nothing compared to Spencer's dick. 

He moves faster then, reaching a hand up to thread it through my hair and pull me back on to him with every thrust. 

“Little girl, you're so fucking tight. How are you always this tight?” He groans through clenched teeth, fucking me with an unfair but so rhythmic thrusts of his hips. He knew how to build me back up again and it showed.

“Please, just use me, Daddy.” I choke out, every muscle in my body preparing for my impending orgasm. 

“Oh, I plan to, sweet little girl. You teased me all fucking night, from the time we left to your silly little texts.” He reaches one hand down and finds my clit, rubbing circles and bringing me to the brink of orgasm for him. “You gonna come for me, baby?” He pants, drawing near to his finish. It had been two months, after all. 

Almost as if on cue, my release found its way out of my body and I came around him with a loud cry of his name. He yanks my hair and buries himself into me, filling me with his simple warmth.

He collapses on top of me momentarily, before drawing out of me with a hiss and falling onto the couch. 

I giggle and stand up, stretching my tired muscles. “Did you have fun, Daddy?” 

“Always do with you.” He smiles, and I lean down to kiss him deeply.

“I love you.” I say, and he pulls me onto his lap. He presses another kiss against my forehead.

“I love you too. I guess Tuesday will be so much fun, huh?” I groan, thinking about the implications of the team knowing.

“Yeah. But you're worth it.” I laugh softly, and wrap my arms around his neck. 

“You mean that?” I say brightly, batting my eyelashes at him dramatically. 

He chuckles and says, “Always.” 

taglist:  @dontkissthewriter @imagining-in-the-margins  @sunlight-moonrise​ @httpnxtt​ @samanddeanstolethetardis221b​ @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ @fanficlibrary82​ @dreatine​ @andiebeaword​ @zhuzhubii​ @prettyricky187​ @reidlusts​

[cursestothemoon]

Hey lovely! Is it ok if i ask for a blurb or hc (whatever suits you the best) with fred? Like after the war and everyone makes it (as well as freddie) and the people from the order and the weasleys (with their partners) have Sunday meetings at the burrow, like them having dinner and playing quidditch or outside having like a bonfire night and everyone tells stories 🥺

All Of Us

F.W. X READER

Warnings: mentions of war/battle, mentions of past injury , kind of sAD WOW I WASN’T EXPECTING THAT, mentions of people who had died, one curse word, mentions of being nauseous 

The wind swept through the tall blades of grass, each haulm moving balletically in the hills that rolled behind the warm, brown, slightly askew, home. During the months of war the Burrow had been a symbol of safety, for you, the Weasley children- old and young- and members of the order. 

The second Wizarding War was a dark time for most people, trust dissolved into code words and relentless questioning. Remus Lupin sat with a plate half full of pancakes absolutely bathing in sticky sweet syrup- breakfast had ended thirty minutes ago- as he tickled his son, bouncing the small boy on his knee. It seemed to have been a lifetime ago when he had begged Harry to let him join the hunt for horcrux, begged to free his wife and unborn child of his self. 

“Uncle Pads is here!”  The voice followed a familiar pop. 

Sirius Black waltzed through the room greeting everyone, his head of healthy hair-ever since the war was won Sirius seemed to glow- bounced around his face. A dark veil had followed Sirius around most of his life, growing up with the cruciatus curse as a guiding hand and the cracking of human bone morphing into that of a canine was a sound he knew would ring in his ears for lifetimes to come. 

You walked over to Sirius with a soft smile, “Hi, Sirius.”

The quiet buzz of the group had grown into a rowdy rumble of voices and laughs as Bill and Charlie Weasley joined in, coming from the backyard. You made your way to the bottom of the stairs, waiting to hear Fred start to descend the stairs. A stumble sounded from the top of the steps, followed by a few grunts as someone went down the stairs one step at a time. You moved to watch Fred slowly make his way down. 

Fred was laughing, eyes crinkled, an honest chuckle passing his lips made the crumbling of the wall behind him almost unnoticeable. What was noticeable was the weight of the rubble hitting him, it had knocked the air out of his lungs and he was sure that was it. He thought of you when it happened, he hadn’t told you, but he thought of you and he thought of never seeing you again. Fred decided he just couldn’t allow that. 

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, yours going around his waist, as you two walked into the kitchen. Fred now walked with a limp, the wall had caused him to lose feeling in a little less than half of his right leg and injured it beyond magical mending. His new gait was something he worked to get used to, the pain slowly but surely fading with each day. 

“Thanks, love.” He smirked, leaning down to give you a quick peck on the lips before walking over to his brothers. 

Your time to admire Fred was cut short as Ginny and Tonks apparated next to you, Ginny on your right and Tonks on your left. 

“I hope one day it won’t be so nauseating catching you eye fucking my brother like that.” Ginny said with her face screwing into one of disgust. 

You gave her shoulder a playful shove, “Shut it.”

Tonks laughed at the both of you before suggesting to get lunch ready, a tall feat when there were over ten people starting to get hungry. 

The day passed with the same lightness of the morning and noon, and more people made an appearance for the traditional Sunday at the Weasley’s. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Minerva Mcgonagall had even decided to attend dinner, showing up just as the sun started to set. 

McGonagall usually had to fight the urge to shed a few tears when she arrived to these dinners. Little Remus Lupin sat with his wife and son, a blinding, boyish, smile making the scars on his face disappear completely. Charming Sirius, who had suffered through so much, now holding a newborn baby-Bill’s first- with such gentility you could barely tell he only learned such care at age fifteen when James Potter took him into his home and held a crying boy with the same gentleness. Harry looking over his godfather’s shoulder was almost too much for poor Minerva to take in, he looked just like James. 

“Where do you think you’re going, poppet?” Fred asked as you removed yourself from his lap, stretching as you stood up.

The older woman watched with a smile as you pressed a loving kiss to your boyfriend’s forehead before walking into the kitchen, presumably to help Molly. She remembers when you two had gotten together, flamboyant as it was, who could forget it? It was your sixth year, and Fred had walked into the Transfiguration classroom with so much vigor he hadn’t seen you trying to leave. The force at which he knocked into you had knocked you to the ground and caused Minerva to let out a gasp. From that point on Fred had made sure to turn the charm up to one hundred and you two were dating in no time. 

Seeing the way Fred looked at you made Mcgonagall sure that she’d be receiving a wedding invitation soon. 

“Alright dinner’s ready! Bill! Charlie! Put that quaffle down and come help the others bring the second table out.” Molly called, her head sticking out from the kitchen window.

Bill and Charlie landed on the ground and tossed the quaffle they had been playing with onto the ground along with their brooms. The brothers jogged into the house, only to come out holding up the end of a table helping Sirius, Remus, and Ron. 

You helped set the table along with George and Ginny. The napkins were folded, utensils placed uniformly near each plate, and strings of lights strung up around the dining area- curtesy of you, George, and your wands. 

Everyone sat down to eat, Bill pulled out Fleur’s chair before sitting next to her and placing a hand on her growing bump- Molly cradling her first grandchild to her chest. Remus, Tonks, and Teddy sat next to each other, Remus helping cut up his sons food into manageable pieces as Tonk’s morphed her face into that of different animals to keep the toddler entertained. George sat on the right of Professor Mcgonagall and Sirius on her left, both talking their former head of house’s ear off- Angelina Johnson was a hot topic for George, she had noticed. Harry and Ginny sat at the end of the table, Ginny talking animatedly about something as Harry listened with a lovesick gaze. 

“Seems like I haven’t seen you for ages.” Fred smirked, sitting down in his usual chair- the one right next to yours. 

You turned to look at him with eyes that clearly had tiredness weighing them down, “I’m sorry, helping kept me busy, there are more people here today.”

Fred brought his hand to rest on your thigh, his thumb caressing the skin with a calming back and forth motion as his other hand cupped your jaw. He brought your face towards his, your lips met in a tender kiss before he pulled away not before giving your nose another soft kiss. 

“Tomorrow I’m keeping you all to myself.” He lowered his voice, hand gripping your thigh now. 

You rubbed your foot against his shin, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Fred gave you a wink before turning to his food, you following suit, giggling into your mashed potatoes. 

Dinner progressed with stories shared and gentle smiles passed between the close knit group. Sirius talked theatrically, his hands flailing wildly as he told the story of the time the ‘Marauders’ had pranked the entire house of Salazar Slytherin with a rogue stag in the common room. 

“We barely got Prongs out of there in time, Filch was hot on our trail.” Sirius grinned along with a giggling Remus. 

Silence fell over the group as Sirius’ eyes started to water, Remus not far behind. Suddenly, heavy emotion had blanketed over everyone as they thought about everyone they had lost to get to where they were. You gripped Fred’s hand under the table, hoping to ground yourself for a moment. 

Sirius raised his glass of fire whiskey slowly, a tearfully smile painting itself onto his handsome features. 

“To us... all of us.”

tags:

@siriusement

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989​

@lifeofkaze

@theorangedrummer

@maraudersgirlxx

@famdomhideout

@raabya

@an2402lths

@escapingrealitybyreading

@readyg0erge (it wont tag i am sorry)

[sunaswife]

Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

🔪: wow it’s been awhile how is everyone?! I apologize for being a shitty writer but sometimes you just don’t have motivation

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter 11

“You’re up early.” You heard and you looked up from your laptop. “I could say the same for you. You always needed your beauty rest.” You joked and Rin laughed. “You do know work can wait. You shouldn’t overwork yourself.” Rin pointed out. “I know, this isn’t really work. I was so distracted yesterday with our talk that I didn’t get a lesson plan ready for the kids so I have to rush and do it right now because I have the kids on a schedule and—“

“Relax.” You felt his rough hands on your shoulders. You completely froze, your heart started racing. “Like I said you overwork yourself. When I finish packing up all my crap you can teach me and we can do it together, okay?” Rin leaned forward to see your face. “Um..yeah sure.” You gulped and looked back at the screen. “Oi, your face is red. You have a fever or something?” Rin asked and tried touching your forehead but you smacked his hand away. “No I’m fine. No fever.” You assured and took a sip of your tea. “Oh so you’re falling for me is that it? Did I make you blush?” He teased and you elbowed his stomach. He winced and hunched forward. “Go pack or stay with Osamu.” You muttered and began to furiously type on your laptop.

“Alright Alright geez. Don’t miss me too much.” He said sarcastically and you rolled your eyes. “Wait before I go.” He said and you looked up with raised brows. “You’re allowed to have pets here right?” He said. “Yeah why?” You asked. “I have my dog...remember..?” He bit his lip. “Oh geez.” You groaned and rubbed your temples. “Don’t worry, he has his shots and everything. He’s trained too. Like he plays dead and stuff.” He said. “Plays dead? A more convincing argument would be like sitting or opening the fridge and getting a can of beer.” “He’s a dog not a servant.” He argued, “How big is your dog?” You asked. “Mmm medium sized, smaller than a German Shepard but bigger than a Jack Russel Terrier.” He said and you raised another brow.

“You act like I know dog breeds. Hell I didn’t even know you knew dog breeds.” You said. “I got chewy’s mom after the whole incident and she really distracted me when I had episodes, she had pups and died since she was sick so I kept one of her pups. I kind of became obsessed with dogs I guess you could say.” He replied. “Fine, is he an inside or outside dog?” You asked, “Both but he sleeps inside.” Rin said. “Okay, I’ll get the back ready for him so he can get cozy and mark his territory or whatever dogs do.” You said. “He’s actually at my parents house, Osamu’s apartment doesn’t have a backyard for pets of his size.” He said.

“Well then that means we take a car instead of a train to Hyogo, right?” You asked and he nodded. “Okay cool. Now hurry and you’ll make it back in time for lunch or snack time.” You waved him off. He chuckled and gave a mock salute and he was gone. You took a deep breath and leaned back in the dining chair.

“What have I done?” You asked yourself. You avoided Rin’s emotional confession yesterday, but now you can’t stop thinking and getting confused with your own emotions. You chugged down your tea and finished making the lesson plan for today. Today is focusing on math and science. Tomorrow is language arts and history.

You got this.

You’re an independent woman.

Relax

“Damn you, Rintaro.” You huffed.

“Remember-“ you started off pointing a finger at Rin. “Do not give in to their puppy faces when they want candy, we already have some at home. We don’t need more.” You started and he nodded. “I’ll remember to get your almond milk, you still drink it right?” You asked and he nodded. “Why doesn’t daddy drink regular milk?” Rini asked, “He’s lactose intolerant.” You replied, “What’s lack toes interant..?” Akira asked, “My body can’t handle the sugar that’s in milk.” He said as you you began looking through the grocery list while he pushed the cart.

“What happens if you drink milk?” Rini asked, “His stomach will hurt and he’ll make the bathroom all smelly.” You teased and the kids said a synchronized ewww, Suna suddenly flicked your forehead and you lightly smacked his hand away. “Stop embarrassing me in front of my kids.” He huffed. “Stop embarrassing me in front of my kids.” You mocked under your breath and the kids giggled.

“Alright fruit. What kinds of fruit do you want this week?” You asked, “Strawberries!” Rini said, “watermelon.” Akira chimed in. “Rin?” You asked, “O-oh I can pick?” He asked completely confused, “Obviously, you live with us now. It’s your house too.” Akira said in a duh tone.

For a second it felt like time stopped when he saw you laughing with the kids, you all live together now. Like a family...an odd family but a family nonetheless. He’s already told you that he still loves you, and he respects your decision whether you don’t want him back or you need time. But at least you’re in his life and that’s all he wanted—no, all he needed.

“Green grapes..?” He asked, “Hey I was thinking grapes too!” You chuckled and the kids saw how their two parents divided and concurred the produce section, throwing in fruits and veggies into the cart.

“Y/N..” Rin called and you turned to see him and the kids making puppy dog eyes. He was holding a packet of chuupets, the ones where you freeze them and you can break them in half to share. You already had a half pack at home, “Seriously? I thought I had two kids not three.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “But chuupet is life.” Rin replied

“Chuupet is life.” You kids nodded, “You guys don’t even finish the ones we have at home.” You told your kids, “Because they have sugar and you won’t let us eat a whole bunch.” Akira defended, she was right. “Fine, one packet. We’ll buy one packet every two weeks.” You said and Suna fist bumped the kids and tossed the chuupets in the cart.

These past two weeks with Rin and the kids have been eventful. Rin has begun helping you with lesson plans, he likes the idea of homeschool because you both have hectic schedules and you’d rather watch the kids then hire a babysitter or nanny. The awkwardness between you both has died down and you’re comfortable in this new environment. You and Rin made a contract to split everything 50/50 and hung it on the wall of your living room as a joke.

Life was very much easier with Rin around and you began teaching him how to use a planner, he wasn’t keen on taking one with him everywhere but he found an app that works just as good. Everything was new to him as well, it was a bit hard to keep up and even though he doesn’t really like change he was comfortable as well. He just needs to stop staring too much when you’re cooking or helping the kids with school work. But it’s so hard for him to look away, you’re just so beautiful.

In his memo app he even has a list of Rini’s allergies and phone numbers for the kids doctor, dentist, and school. He was grateful you didn’t just toss all of this responsibility, when you called the doctor to schedule a six month check up, he was listening intently and took mental notes on what to ask.

He was also glad he got to know a little bit more about you as well, he didn’t know you had cooking karaoke time for the kids. The kids would sit on the counter laughing at your performance of ‘Let It Go’.

Also your favorite flower changed it’s no longer daises, you also can’t stand the taste of pickles anymore because when you were pregnant you craved them and now the smell makes you wanna vomit.

There was so many new things to discover in your little family and he was grateful that you allowed someone like him to waltz right in as if he didn’t break your heart. You were too kind for your own good.

He felt more confident now as he drove to his parents house with your head against the window, asleep. He looked at the rear view mirror and saw the kids sleeping as well with their mouths open and their snores filled the car. He smiled softly and looked back at the road, he passed the arcade he used to take you, as well as the old drive thru movie theater, and the road that led up to the hills where he took you on your guy’s first date. Before he knew it he saw his childhood home and he carefully parked the car to not startle the kids.

“Y/N..wake up.” He shook your shoulder lightly, your eyes slowly widened and you turned to him with tired eyes. “We’re here. I’ll help you take down the kids and you can go inside, I’ll have my dad help me bring in our bags.” He said softly. “Okay..thanks Rin.” You yawned and opened the door to go get the kids.

“Wake up princess.” You said as you unbuckled Akira’s car seat. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, she opened her arms for you to carry her and you rolled your eyes playfully. You held her in your arms and she wrapped her arms around your neck and rested her head on your shoulder. You grabbed her fox plush with your free hand and closed the car door. Rini was already running around and stretching with Rin.

“Akira you don’t wanna stretch?” You asked and she shook her head. “Are you really that tired..? You teased and she nodded. Rin grabbed some bags with Rini helping as well, he could only carry a backpack that barley had anything inside. You followed Rin up the familiar steps and he rang the door bell.

Soon enough the door opened and it was Rin’s dad, “Oh it’s been so long.” He sighed as he held his son in his arms. “It has.” Rin replied and slowly pulled away. He put the bag down to carry Rini and brought him eye level with his dad. “This is my son, Rini.” He spoke up and his dad gasps.

“He looks just like you.” He said and Rin nodded. “Yeah I get that a lot.” He chuckled. “Hi Rini, I’m grandpa but you can call me pops or gramps.” He said and Rini’s eyes widened. “Grandpa?” He asked and he nodded. “I always wanted a grandpa!” He yelled and tackled him in a hug. Rin’s dad took a few steps back with Rini in his arms and he chuckled. You gave a soft smile. “This is also my daughter Akira, they’re twins.” Rin spoke up and his dad look as you turned to show him your sleeping daughter.

“There’s two?!” He asked. You gave a small nod, “You must be Y/N, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He said. “It’s nice to meet you too Mr. Suna.” You said. “No need for that just call me Kauru.” He smiled softly and you nodded. “Alright, Kauru. Thank you for allowing us into your home.” You said and he waved off. “Your mom should be here in a few she just went to buy some groceries.” He told Rin and he nodded.

You were shown to Rin’s old room which is where the kids will be sleeping, you and Rin will be sleeping on futons in the living room. Akira had finally woken up and her and Rini were outside playing with Rin’s dog. A car horn honked outside and Rin and Kauru went outside to help with the groceries. You followed them as well to help and that’s when you finally met Rin’s mother.

She gave a small glare and scoffed, she walked past you, purposely bumping her shoulder with yours. She clearly stated you weren’t welcomed and you had no idea of the shit storm coming your way.

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Thank you for being patient and understanding!

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