#the twelve days of evans

[jessieren]

The Twelve Days of Evans

Following @too-antigonish and others leads... I thought I should contribute to the Christmas spirit. I'm a little later than planned so today will have to be a bit of a catch up session for all the days I should already have posted lol

Are you complaining?? didn't think so...

NOTE: if you make it to No1 it is very definitely NSFW…

On the Sixth day of Christmas my Evans gave to me...

Six Morsetache taches

Five Morses Kissing

Four Scary Psychos

Three Sweater Vests

Two Churchy Evans

And one very fine naked ass...

(well it is HNW after all...)

[season-77]

I received a Christmas card from my British friend today, and I could hardly hold back my laughter because this year, that song has a completely different association for me.

[achilles-rage]

achilles-rage's twelve days of christmas

day one: it's beginning to look a lot like christmas (ft. evan buckley)

summary: decorating the tree with evan buckley and your daughter.

word count: 2.5k

series masterlist

a/n: you guys i'm so excited for this series!! i think this might be one of my favourite things i've written so far, it's so fluffy and it made me feel so warm and fuzzy lol!! also vivian is one of my top baby names so this feels self indulgent hehe. enjoy<3

warnings: none, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

You’re wiping down the kitchen island when you feel two tiny hands grabbing at the hem of your sweater, and you look down with a smile when you hear your daughter’s voice triumph the Christmas music echoing softly through your house.

“Mama!” your daughter, Vivi, practically yells, and you have no choice but to pick her up when you see her big eyes staring up at you. You lift her into your arms and set her on your hip, then continue wiping down the kitchen island while Buck takes care of the kitchen counters.

You can feel a thin layer of sweat on your face, and you’re sure you’re getting a rash from the material of the bright red Christmas sweater you’re wearing, but you don’t dare take it off. When Buck and Vivi saw these matching family sweaters at the store, they just had to buy them, and you’re still not sure who had to convince who to buy them.

You’ve just finished making some sugar cookies to decorate for tomorrow, and now it’s time to clean up, which has proved quite tedious when baking with a two-year-old that insists on touching everything.

You hum along to the music playing, and Buck turns to face you as his hands still for a moment, taking in the sight of his two girls in their matching sweaters. He loves to see your features mixed with his in your daughter, and it makes his heart full to see you both smiling and giggling together. His little family, finally complete.

When you’re done wiping off the counter, you turn to look at Buck, whose neck is slightly red from his sweater. You shake your head with a fond smile, and when he turns to look at you again, he brings you in for a quick kiss, bringing one of his fingers up to hold your chin in place. When he pulls back, he looks down at your daughter, and holds his hands out to her.

“Hi, baby. You wanna help me finish cleaning up while mama gets the ornaments ready?” he asks her in a high voice, and you look down at her right as she practically launches herself at him. The little traitor, you think. When Buck’s around, she’s practically glued to him.

“Dada!” she says as her little hands grip his sweater. He lifts her up in the air before he lowers her to his chest, and when she’s firmly wrapped in his arms, he leans down to blow a raspberry against her neck. She squeals loudly, her little giggles filling the kitchen as you and Buck look at each other over her shoulder, both of your chests feeling warm and full of love. 

As Buck and Vivi finish cleaning the kitchen and take the cookies out of the oven, you go to the living room and begin taking out the ornaments and sorting them. You put the breakable ornaments up on the fireplace, out of reach of tiny grabby hands, and put the less fragile ornaments onto the coffee table, in your daughter's reach and eyesight.

When they finally come into the living room, you see white powder all over their sweaters, and you raise a brow at Buck, who gives you a sheepish smile. 

“She threw the first handful.” he tells you, and you scoff, laughing softly as you shake your head.

“Right, blame the child.” you tell him sharply, although the smile on your face shows that you’re not upset. If anything, you wish you were there to see the flour fight.

“Where star?” Vivi asks when Buck puts her down and she walks over to the coffee table. You smile, thinking of the ornament she made earlier today when you were babysitting Jee. She insisted on using every colour she could imagine, although the ornament had more or less turned brown from all the paint mixed together. 

You found a kit to make your own clay ornaments online, and decided it would be a good activity to do with them right before Christmas. You also know that Maddie and Chimney would love a homemade ornament by Jee.

“It still needs to dry, lovey. We can put that up when Jee comes over.” you tell her as you bend down to her level, and she lets out a soft huff. Her dismay is quickly forgotten, however, when her eyes land on the Disneyland Ferris wheel ornament sitting in front of her. 

“Mickey,” she mumbles as she picks it up, tiny fingers brushing over Mickey’s nose. “We go?” she finishes, looking up at Buck with the poutiest face you’ve ever seen. She’s barely two and she already knows exactly how to get her way.

“You wanna go?” Buck asks as he picks her up, and when she nods hopefully, her hair bouncing with each movement, you know what Buck’s going to say. 

“Sure, we can go, baby. Now, where does that one go?” 

She points up to the top of the tree, and Buck lifts her up to sit on his shoulder as she leans out to put the ornament on one of the branches. While you watch Buck help her secure the ornament with a loving smile, you cross your arms over your chest, shaking your head before you speak.

“You really want to go on that Ferris wheel six times in a row again and do absolutely nothing else?” Buck looks over his shoulder at you once the ornament is safely on the tree, giving you a big smile. You got that ornament on your first trip to Disneyland with Vivi, and she insisted on going on the Ferris wheel as many times as she possibly could, not wanting to bother with anything else.

“Come on, how can I say no?” he asks with a shrug, letting Vivi down to grab the next ornament. 

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger.” you tell him as you close the distance between you. His smile widens before your lips meet his, and one of his arms wrap around your plush middle as the other hand cups your cheek. Your hands rest on his chest as you kiss him passionately, and you part from the kiss when he starts to sway you two back and forth along with the music, laughing softly.

“She learned from the best.” he tells you earnestly with a wink, and for a moment, the dull itch from the sweater and the fact that you’re overheating in your silly festive sweater fade, and all you can focus on is the loving look in Buck’s gleaming blue eyes.

“Look! Pretty.” You tear your gaze from each other when you hear your daughter’s voice, and when you turn to her, you both grin. Her arm is outstretched to show you that she’s placed another ornament low on the tree, this one a big Hershey kiss from when you took her to visit Buck’s parents in Hershey.

“Wow, look at that!” you exclaim just as Buck says “Beautiful, baby.” 

The next half hour or so continues similarly; you and Buck working on decorating the top part of the tree with the fragile ornaments while you let Vivi have free reign over the bottom part of the tree that she can reach. 

She insists on showing you each ornament once it’s on the tree, and both of you take turns on telling her how good it looks before you continue putting up the glass balls and ceramic ornaments from various vacations and big moments you and Buck celebrated before Vivi was born.

After a while, the tree is almost completely covered, and you hear Buck let out an exaggerated gasp as you fix the tinsel that’s been randomly thrown across the tree by your daughter.

When you turn, you see Buck and Vivi’s matching grins, and then he lifts her into his arms again, examining the ornaments she’s holding out ceremoniously in front of his face.

“Dada ornament.” she says in her excited little voice, although the word “ornament” comes out more like “ornent.”

“Did you get this for me?” Buck asks her and she nods furiously, giggling at Buck’s clear approval.

“She saw it at the store the other day. She wouldn’t let me put it back; insisted we had to get an ornament for daddy.” you explain with a fond smile, tilting your head to the side as you watch Buck place a big, audible kiss on Vivi’s forehead.

You watch as Buck once again holds her up on his shoulder at her insistence that the ornament be placed front and center on the tree.

Your smile widens when you hear her little giggle, watching her clasp her hands together beside her face and her shoulders raise up to her ears as she takes in the sight: a bright red glittery fire truck placed right in the middle of the tree. You walk up to them, wrapping an arm around Buck’s torso as you rest your head against Vivi’s side. You sigh as you take in the sight of the nearly-complete tree, letting out a silent laugh through your nose when you feel a tiny hand pat the top of your head gently.

“Star, mama.” you hear in your ear after a moment, and you lean back slightly to look up at your daughter, so happily perched on Buck’s shoulder. 

“Should we put up the star?” you ask her, and she nods enthusiastically as she begins to wriggle out of Buck’s grip. Buck helps her down as you go back to the almost empty box of ornaments, taking the white and gold star out of the wrapping. 

By the time you get the star completely unwrapped and turn back to your daughter, however, she’s already sitting on the floor playing with one of her discarded toys, now completely disinterested.

You sigh with a smile, then walk over to the couch directly beside the tree and climb on top of it. The top of the tree is just barely within reach, and you silently curse Buck for letting Vivi pick out the biggest tree she could possibly find at the Christmas tree farm.

As you stretch up to get the star on top of the tree, you don’t notice that Buck is silently watching you, his eyes glued to your ass as he licks his lips. He knows he should be offering you some help, but goddamn, he also can’t pass up a view like this. If Vivi wasn’t just a few feet away from you two, he’d have you bent over the couch, lips attached to your neck, and, hopefully, a new sibling for Vivi in nine or so months.

He’s only torn from his thoughts when he hears your daughter stomp over to the tree, her voice high and upset.

“Mama, I do!” she tells you loudly, which startles you. It’s a good thing Buck was on the way over to you, because her shrill voice startles you, making you almost lose your balance with one foot on the arm of the couch and the other on the seat cushion. Buck is quick to grab your hips, slowly helping you lower to the ground before you have the chance to fall. 

When your two feet are pressed firmly on the ground, Buck presses a quick kiss to the side of your neck before he picks up Vivi in his arms and lifts her up to the top of the tree. You hand her the star, then watch with a smile, but you’re watching diligently; ready to dive for the star if she doesn’t put it on properly. 

Luckily, your smart girl is able to put the star on top of the tree with little difficulty, her excited giggle ringing through your ears when she pulls her hands away and sees that the star is staying in place. 

When Buck lowers her to his chest, she holds her arms out to you, her eyes silently pleading to move into your arms. You take her gladly, kissing her warm cheek as you look at the way the tree lights reflect in her eyes.

“Look at that, lovey. You did so good!” you tell her, bouncing her on your hip. She smiles widely, wrapping her arms around your neck and squeezing you tightly. You feel Buck’s warmth wrap around you from behind, one hand resting on your tummy while the other rests on Vivi’s back.

“So pretty, Vivi. Almost as pretty as my girls.” He whispers the last sentence in your ear before he places a kiss right behind your ear, his hot breath hitting your neck and making you shiver.

“I love you.” you whisper after a moment, looking at him over your shoulder. He smiles down at you, then presses a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I love you. Thank you.” he whispers against your lips. When he pulls away, you raise a brow, confusion spread across your features.

“For what?” you ask, squeezing Vivi tighter against you when you feel her press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“For giving me my two favourite things.” he replies as his fingers dig into your tummy lightly and he tickles Vivi’s side with his other hand. You lean your head away as she squeals loudly right in your ear, laughing softly as Buck takes her from your arms and throws her up in the air.

“You want a cookie before we go to bed?” he asks her, and you narrow your eyes at him as you see her beginning to wiggle around in his grip, trying to get to the kitchen.

“You’re on bedtime duty tonight. I’m not gonna be up all night because you let her have cookies before bed.” you tell him sternly, although as you look at her bright smile and twinkling eyes, you know that you’d probably do the exact same thing as he did.

“I think I can handle that, mama.” he says with a wink. Once Vivi’s feet are back on the floor, she grabs two of Buck’s fingers in her little hand, leading him to the kitchen.

You three eat your cookies sitting on the floor in front of the tree; at Vivi’s insistence, and when you’re all finished, she’s almost asleep in Buck’s lap, her head resting against his chest and crumbs all over her face.

“You’re lucky the sugar didn’t catch up to her in time.” you tease Buck as you watch Vivi struggling to keep her eyes open, keeping your voice a quiet whisper so as not to wake her up.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world.” is all he says before he reaches out and pulls your lips to his, his hand on the back of your neck.

And he truly believes it. With you, and your little girl here with him, sitting in front of your beautifully decorated tree with Christmas music still softly playing from the TV, he doesn’t think life can get any better. And neither can you.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

No specific chapter tags

Read below or on ao3. You can also start from the beginning here.

Day 12: 2031

“What are you doing?”

“Shh!” Tommy waved his hand dramatically as he took a very slow, very precise step. “You're going to wake her up, Evan.”

“She's been out like a light for an hour,” Buck reminded him with a smile, “and I've got music playing in her room. So, what are you doing?”

Tommy lifted a foot, showing Buck the bottom of a black, rubber boot. “A little water and flour,” he explained. “I'm making Santa's footprints.”

Buck crossed his arms, leaning against the living room entryway. “It's sixty degrees outside. Where is this snow coming from?”

Tommy sighed. “It's magic."

“You know that's gonna be a nightmare to clean up tomorrow once it dries.”

“It'll be fine.”

“I'll remind you of that when you're scrubbing.”

“I need more,” Tommy said, ignoring Buck's comments as he stood still as a statue in the middle of the living room. “I have a spray bottle in the kitchen, and a plate with flour on it. Bring it to me, please?”

Buck shook his head, but went and got what Tommy needed. “Please tell me you're not stepping your feet into our good dishes,” he whined on his way back, setting the plate on the ground.

“They're new boots. We'll throw it in the dishwasher. Stay down there, spray my shoes.”

“Is this some new type of fetish for you? I know we're not supposed to judge, but...”

“Evan.”

“Okay, okay, I'm spraying.”

After each foot was sprayed and floured again, Tommy resumed his walk until he reached the front door.

“Seems wrong to not have Santa going up a chimney,” Buck said as Tommy carefully took off his boots.

“We don't have a chimney.”

“I could get a photo of Chimney and tape it to the door.”

“I know you're joking,” Tommy said, stepping closer to Buck, “but if you do that I might start committing violent crimes.”

Buck reached out and felt over Tommy's shirt. “You'd look hot in orange,” he decided as he leaned in for a kiss.

“Wait.” Tommy stopped him right before their lips met. He looked down between them, pointing at Buck's foot. “You're dangerously close to stepping on Santa's footprint.”

The moment ruined, Buck patted Tommy's chest. “I'm gonna bring out her presents.”

“I'm going to put these boots in three garbage bags, wash them when she goes to Maddie's on Friday, and give them to George at work on Saturday.”

“Why are you giving George your boots?”

“What do I need giant, black, rubber boots for?”

“Well, why does George need giant, black, rubber boots?”

“Are we really doing this right now, Evan?”

Buck rolled his eyes, raising his hands in surrender. “Getting the presents now.”

“Watch out for the footprints!” Tommy whisper-yelled as Buck headed down the hall.

Buck's only response was a low groan.

*****

The third time Tommy checked the time it was 4:45. He turned from one side to the other, wrapping his arm around Buck's waist.

“You're supposed to be sleeping,” Buck grumbled.

“Sorry.” Tommy pressed a kiss between Buck's shoulder blades. “I'm excited.”

“Really? Couldn't tell.”

Buck stretched out his legs, then turned over to face Tommy. “You know she's gonna be going nonstop once she wakes up. This is your last chance for rest.”

“She's been wanting that bike for months, Evan. And she already knows how to ride without training wheels. Can you believe that?”

“I can.” Buck brought a hand to Tommy's face, gently stroking his cheek. “You taught her well.”

“You ate the cookies, right?” Tommy asked, and Buck couldn't help but grin at him. He looked like such a child, wide eyed and ready to take on the day.

“I ate the cookies.”

“And the milk?”

“I drank the milk.”

“You think the note was okay?” Tommy asked. “It wasn't too wordy, was it?”

“Tommy,” Buck inched forward, pressing his lips against Tommy's. “Her Christmas will be perfect. You've made sure of that.”

“We've made sure of that,” Tommy corrected, giving him another kiss.

Buck ran his hand down Tommy's arm until he intertwined their hands, squeezing tight. “You okay?” he asked. “I know you're excited, but I- I also know Christmas has a lot of not-so-great memories for you.”

That was an understatement if there ever was one. Christmas of 2025 was one of the best for Tommy. Spent with Evan, his family, and the rest of the 118, the entire day was something out of a storybook. It was overwhelming and, once they got home, Tommy found himself sobbing in the bathroom. When Buck found him, Tommy ended up spilling his guts on every past Christmas.

By the time they were done, Buck promised that if he never wanted to celebrate the holiday again, he wouldn't have to.

But Tommy did. It's all he ever wanted, and he had it now, and it was good and terrifying and a lot to wrap his head around.

Then, they got their daughter, and Christmas had been taken up a notch every year since then. Buck always figured he'd be the one to dive head first into holidays, but Tommy quickly took the reigns, and Buck loved every second of it.

“I'm okay,” Tommy assured him.

“You'll come to me later if you get not okay?”

Tommy nodded. “Promise,” he said, wrapping his and Buck's pinkies together.

Buck scooted in as close as he could, closing his eyes as he entangled their bodies.

Just as Tommy thought he might be able to fall back to sleep, he heard the familiar patter of little feet heading toward their door.

“Get ready,” Buck mumbled against his chest.

The door flung open. “Daddy! Papa! Christmas!” She came running to the bed, jumping right on top of her dads.

“Whoa!” Tommy exclaimed, the both of them scooting back to give her space between them. “It's Christmas?!” he questioned.

“Mhm!”

“Are you sure about that?” Buck asked, cocking his eyebrow.

“I'm sure! Presents, please!” She grabbed both of their hands and began tugging. “Please, please, please!”

*****

Tommy got tears in his eyes as he watched his babygirl squeal when she saw Santa's footprints. He became even more misty when Buck helped her read the letter Santa left her. By the time she was tearing open her presents and screaming at the sight of her new bike, Buck had to put a hand on his back and gently rub up and down, soothing him so he wouldn't break down into full sobs right in front of their daughter.

He never tried to hide his emotions from her, but he also knew she wouldn't really understand her dad hyperventilating with happiness because he loved her so much.

“Can I go ride it?!” she asked, already snapping her helmet on her head.

“The sun's not even up yet,” Buck joked, but he knew he wouldn't win this fight. Tommy was already standing, quickly throwing the wrapping paper into a giant trash bag so they could go.

“Please, Daddy!” she begged, her bottom lip poking out.

He laughed. “I bet Papa is willing to take the first bike shift while I get breakfast ready, aren't you?” he asked, looking up at Tommy with a grin.

“Oh, absolutely!” he answered. “Go put on your shoes and grab a jacket, then we'll go.”

As she ran out of the room, Buck stood, wrapping his arms around Tommy. “Breakfast will take about an hour,” he said as Tommy pressed a kiss to his temple. “That enough time?”

Tommy rested his hands at Buck's lower back. “Yup. I'll take her back out after.”

Buck leaned back enough to look into Tommy's eyes. “You still good?”

Tommy nodded. “I'm great, Evan.”

*****

“Alright." Tommy clapped his hands together after making the final adjustments on her helmet. “You got this?”

“I got this!” she yelled, smiling brightly.

She got ready to take off, but stopped suddenly, leaning over and squeezing her arms around Tommy's waist the best she could.

“Oh!” he breathed out in surprise. He squatted down so he could give her a better hug. “What's this for?” he asked.

“For being the bestest papa ever and ever!”

She gave him a smack of a kiss on the cheek and let go, pushing herself forward and taking off on the bike.

Tommy wiped the tears from his face and started to jog behind her, his heart feeling more full than he ever thought possible.

One day, this would all be a distant memory to her. She may only remember bits and pieces, but she would hold in her heart the way her parents made Christmas as perfect as possible.

And whether she chooses to have a family of her own, or spend the holiday with friends that become family, she will pass the traditions on and Christmas will continue to hold a special place in her heart. Filled with good memories of endless laughter and unconditional love.

Juniper Buckley-Kinard was five years old when her Papa unwittingly taught her that sometimes good things last forever.

[mikereads]

Buddie x Christmas!

Merry Christmas Eve! Even if you aren’t in the mood to celebrate- here’s a quick edit I made for them!

[theladyofshalott1989]

💕 My boys 💕 (Sketch by me, reference used)

“I won’t let anyone or anything steal you away from me. You’re mine.”

- Book Two: Burning Bright, Ch. 7: The Stranger

[alchemistc]

Part One

Part Two

They make it past the second six months.

It's agonizing. It's wonderful. Tommy wants to scream.

"Why are you calling it your six month anniversary?" Hen asks, with a quirked brow, eyeing them both from across the twelve-top they'd scooped up (and modified under the careful scrutiny of the curmudgeonly bartender Joe) early.

Tommy's glad his hand is under the table. The nervous habit of running a thumb along the underside of his empty ring finger would be the kind of thing Hen notices.

"You don't just get a Mulligan on the first six."

It's been a year and a half since Tommy met Evan Buckley. Over, actually, since Evan had just gone a little insane instead of taking a step back to examine his feelings, at the start. It always makes Tommy wonder exactly how much he'd examined those first days with Eddie. He's heard the story, clips of it, bits and pieces scattered between everyone Evan knows, and he wonders if Evan will ever come to the conclusion that he'd had virtually the same reaction to Eddie, back at the beginning. It's settled, now. They are firm in their friendship, and any attraction that might be there isn't simmering under the surface waiting to blindside Tommy. But he wonders sometimes if Evan won't just bolt up in bed ten years from now to shake Tommy awake and tell him he'd had a crush on Eddie.

Ten years?

Christ.

If Evan ever knew how many times the future popped into his mind like a jump scare, he'd -

They're far past the deadline for annulment. At this point they're at "split the assets before you go". Can't quite talk your way out of a committed relationship six months post-marriage.

Neither one of them has brought it up, and Tommy is getting great at pretending like it's not a scythe shifting closer and closer every time the pendulum swings past him.

Evan tosses a balled up napkin at Hen and sticks out his tongue, and before she can do more than scowl there are five more people flooding through the door behind them to shout congratulations and drop into their seats to gossip.

---

Hiding it becomes a moot point. He's had it in his head this whole time that if it were to get out, it would definitely be Evan's fault.

The universe does enjoy a twist

He'd gotten a jumbled text from Evan mid-flight, and a more coherent one from Eddie when his captain asked him to turn the bird around and land, and he's a bundle of nerves as he spills through the barely open doors of the elevator and spots the rest of the 118 looking concerned off in the corner of the waiting room.

Eddie catches him first. Spots the look on his face and makes a valiant attempt to explain, to soothe his worry, but there's a nurse rounding a corner and all Tommy has gotten to this point is <Buck's being transported to Good Samaritan. He's stable but you should come.>

He's kind of an ass about it. He'll regret it later when she narrows her eyes and reminds him visiting hours have ended. He'll shoot back with the same shit he's gearing himself up for in this moment and they'll reach a detente.

"Evan Buckley. Do you have any new information?"

She eyes the flight suit he hadn't bothered to take off before booking it to his truck. Tilts her gaze behind him, to the 118, and maybe that's what does it. The idea that they're any more family than he is. "We'll inform family immediately with any updates."

Tommy can see Eddie wince out of the corner of his eye, but all he's thinking about is the hundreds of moments Evan's smile has left him breathless, all the promises they'd made each other that night with the neon lights of Vegas spurring them on.

"Seeing as I'm his husband, I'd like a full update. Now."

He regrets it the moment the words are out of his mouth. Not just because he's being a complete fucking dickhead about it, either.

The pendulum gets its first taste of blood and swings away again.

---

Evan grins at him. He's bruised and bandaged and high as a kite, and he's so fucking beautiful it nearly takes Tommy out at the knees. Thankfully he's already sitting.

Perched on a chair close enough to the bed that he's annoyed an orderly, a doctor, and two nurses, hand curled over Evan's in the bed, he's just finished confessing he can't keep a secret for shit and Evan is smiling at him.

The rest of the 118 is still waiting outside. He'd let Maddie go first, so it's likely Evan already knew this tidbit, but it doesn't hurt to be honest. Or so he's learning.

"You love me," Evan sing-songs.

Tommy sucks his lips behind his teeth to hide his grin. Blows out a breath. "So you're not upset?"

He looks - momentarily shifty. "Uh - don't be mad."

Tommy quirks a brow.

"It's - okay so you know how we have to update all our medical information every year for the insurance?" Tommy nods. Licks his lips. "Um."

The next sentence is a garbled rush. Tommy gets 'power' and 'just in case' and nothing else. "Say again?"

"I... Uh. I updated my forms."

That paperwork was due about two months after the Vegas trip.

"To... Just in case I was incapacitated, I wanted to make sure..."

"Evan," Tommy presses.

"You have, uh. Power of attorney. And you're listed as next of kin with Maddie. Just. Just in case."

It should freak the hell out of him. It should make him question everything they've been doing, with the open honesty crap, for the last eight months.

"I want a divorce," Tommy says, and then grimaces. "Shit, that's not what I - ." And Evan's grin gets wider. Like he knows. Like he understands. Like everything they've been building and breaking and rebuilding for the last almost two years has actually made him an expert at interpreting Tommy when he doesn't have the right words in the right order.

"Gonna need that ring you've got hidden in your moms music box," Evan says, and then someone is rapping impatiently at the door Tommy shut behind him as he practically shoved past Maddie to get to him. "I get to propose this time." Tommy bites back a choked laugh while half the 118 spill into the room to whisper-yell at them both.

[777heavengirl]

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poa!remus lupin x healer!reader one-shot ! warnings: angst ? mentions of war and death, eventual fluff word count: 4,014 masterlist

Remus Lupin was a handsome man. You had always known this, ever since fifth year when you got paired up with him in potions. It became your new favorite subject. He was not only gorgeous but bright and sharp as a whip. You could hear his sarcastic and witty comments from under his breath often, and the giggles that bubbled out of you were hard to contain. You had considered yourself decent friends, sharing more than one class with him and opting often to work together throughout your time at Hogwarts. He was even the reason you were a part of the order of the phoenix as the war broke out. 

It was a dark time, the insecurity and the panic. The sheer paranoia that draped over everyone like a coat made of lead. You lost contact as the war ended. His best friends were dead, or traitors. His family was dead and as far as you knew he retreated until the only mention of him was the pictures on your walls. You hadn’t laid eyes on the man for twelve years. 

But Remus Lupin was still a handsome man. Older barely, tired definitely. As Dumbledore introduced him as the new defense against the dark arts professor you couldn’t help but gawk. His shy smile was the same, a small curl of his lip as he looked sheepishly at the crowd of children. His light brown hair was longer than the last time you had seen him. He shaved it the year Harry was born, you always thought he looked quite good with the buzz. Matter of fact he had asked you to shave it for him. You’d never forget the trust he had in you at that moment, nor the feel of his head, his face in your hands. 

You had started your post as a secondary healer at Hogwarts around the same time Harry Potter turned 11. Albus insisted Madame Pomfrey needed the help, and as a trusted witch and now experienced and skilled healer after many years at St Mungo’s, you were the one for the job. After much bonding with the Potter boy, as he had the terrible habit of always needing medical care along with his friends you started to tell him, stories of his mother, of his father, and your time together at school. You suspected Albus Dumbledore was playing a game of chess. Remus’s appearance was no different. Maybe he was trying to introduce the boy to his parent’s old friends. Show him the love and care his parents had fostered with others. The way James and Lily cared for their friends like family, until their last seconds.

Lily Evans had been, until the day of her death, one of your closest friends. The two of you were basically inseparable, she always said muggle-borns needed to stick together. This closeness is what made your friendship with Remus so easy. It was like two overlapping circles of friends perfectly lining up, creating one. This also made it easy to fall in love with him. Lily always encouraged it, you could still hear the smile on her face as she spoke warmly about the man, how perfect he was for you.

Lily loved Remus. You suspected this was also the reason for his absence. Everyone deals with grief differently.

Or maybe he just really had no care for you after all?

You shook the thought away as you did your nightly duties. It was nearing the end of the first week of classes and you hadn’t dared talk to Remus. You were trying to come to terms with the undeniable fact that maybe it was best that you didn’t reconnect. He could teach from his classroom on his side of the castle and you could heal children from yours. Not in a bad way, but maybe in the way two people avoid each other because of too much shared pain. Because maybe looking at each other meant acknowledging how alone you were. It’s not like he had even looked at you either. You wondered if he thought of you. 

You thought of Lily as you cleaned. She’d huff at you if she heard your thoughts. 

“Ah yes Ms Y/L/N,” Dumbledore walked in, Remus in tow. The soft brown, wool sweater he wore made your heart clench. He looked like he always did, he looked like the Remus you grew up with. Not the stuffier professor robes you had seen him wearing around. “I do believe you are familiar with Professor Lupin’s-”

”predicament” Remus muttered but in the silence of the night it was clear as day. 

”ah yes, ever so verbose, the professor, but you are aware yes?” 

Of course, you knew, you had helped him post-full moon before while you were training to be a healer. While the war felt like it would blow down your doors at any minute. you simply nodded. You resumed your task of folding the sheets, opting to do it with your hands.

You were afraid to look at him, but you knew what Dumbledore would ask.

”I trust you can make sure he’s in good shape each month then?”

You smiled softly at the headmaster, “of course sir, i’ll tend to him when needed” Dumbledore smiled and nodded as he turned, patting Remus’s shoulder as he passed and disappeared into the castle's darkness.

You could feel Remus tense up as you were left alone, you felt suffocated even in the expansiveness of the hospital wing. 

“I have all the moon dates in my calendar professor,” the words felt foreign coming from your mouth but you couldn’t bring yourself to say his name. “so please don’t hesitate to tell me what arrangement you’d prefer I can go up to your room the morning after or if you feel like coming down as well”

Remus shifted on his feet as you spoke. He stared hard at the windows but he suspected you were also avoiding his gaze. 

“I think I can make it up here, don’t worry I’ll probably be okay,” You hummed, shooting him a tightlipped smile as he bowed his head and left. Your eyes never met. 

Remus felt like he might suffocate at any moment. His skin felt hot under his collar and he couldn’t remember if he had looked at you at all. He tried to picture your face. Had it aged at all? Had you changed? He could only think back to when you buzzed his head thirteen years ago. Your wide smile as the two of you laughed at his falling locks. It had been cathartic at the time, and he could still feel the ghost of your fingers over his face, over his head.

It was a fleeting thought, a flash of a life he had forgotten he had lived. Twelve years is an awfully long time, to not see someone.

He wondered how you had dealt with all of it. With the losses, with the absence of everyone you loved. He could feel regret worm its way into his heart. He had left you alone. You were each other's remaining friends. There was no longer anyone else, Lily and James, Marlene, and Dorcas were all dead. He presumed Mary was dead as well. Frank and Alice weren’t there anymore, not mentally.

He knew you took care of them. At St Mungo’s. He caught a glimpse of you once as you came into their room. Remus had just gone to visit, talk to them, and bring them flowers. Even if they didn’t seem to recognize him, Alice was entranced by the Lillies he brought. He felt content enough about it as he walked away, but then you walked into the room after. He knew you hadn't seen him, but he peeked in to observe you. With your nice smile and your caring gaze, you checked up on them, made sure they had been fed, ran through a small (although futile) therapeutic exercise with them, and put on a charm so the flowers wouldn’t wilt, so they make you happy for a long time Alice. Remus hated the pang of pain in his heart. He always knew you would become a good healer. He didn’t want to disrupt your life. You seemed well-adjusted. Or at least he hoped you were, but that was just the outside, and the outside doesn’t always reflect the inside.

Remus knew this especially well.  

-

This arrangement between you was barely touched on. Remus had come in only once in the two months that had passed for a small scrape on his neck. It made your fingers itch in anticipation. It was like you needed to feel needed. You knew he wasn't having the best time. He looked pale and ill and you fought the urge to drop something off at his door. 

"Severus I need to know if you're giving him Wolfsbane" You disliked dealing with Severus Snape. You didn't trust him. Not since the incident with Lily in fifth year. And rightfully so. Regardless of the headmaster's unwavering faith in him, you were convinced he was going to screw with Remus and his job. Whether payback for things in the past or simple jealousy. 

"I don't see how that's any of your business," He sneered at you as he turned away, walking down the dark empty halls of the dungeon's hallways. 

"I'm his nurse-"

"He won't even let you treat him, and if you knew what was good for you," he crossed his arms. You felt as useless as when he and Lily had started arguing in fourth year. "You'd forget about him, its pathetic-" 

You knew it was pointless to speak to the man. You often pondered if he saw glimpses of Lily in you just as you saw them in him.

You huffed as the two of you walked your separate ways. You felt sixteen again. Mindlessly, you walked to the defense against the dark arts tower. It wasn't a section of the castle you found yourself in often or at all anymore, your days as a student had long passed. You focused on the stone stairs. You felt like your hands were clammy and freezing at the same time. You didn't know if you were overstepping a boundary. 

Classes had finished for the day, the kids ran around the castle, some greeting you some not. You didn't mind. You knocked softly at his office door with your knuckles. You suddenly felt insecure about your red robes and white apron, it was nearly identical to Poppy Pomfrey's. She said something about yours having a younger silhouette. Whatever the hell that meant. 

"Come in," Remus's voice called out through the door. You turned the door knob hesitantly. You couldn't help but stare at the artifacts and books thrown and placed about. "Ah, welcome"

"I'm sorry for the intrusion," you still didn't dare say his name, it was stuck in your throat like a bubble of water and air that forms when you drink too fast. You felt like you might choke. "I just needed to know if you were taking a certain potion-"

Remus nodded, an understanding smile playing on his lips. 

"I am,"

"Okay good," you trailed off as you finally looked at him straight on. His hands had stopped their task, ink-dipped feather placed back on his desk as he also stared at you. You fiddled with your fingers behind your back. "I'm sorry, Severus wouldn't answer my question and I needed to know so as to not give you anything that might react poorly-"

"It's alright," Remus bit his lip slightly, you could tell he was bouncing his leg from under his desk.

"I'll take my leave then" you turned away from him. 

"Y/N" you stopped at the door, the cold metal handle cooling your hand. "D'you want some tea?"

You couldn't say no. Not to him. So you turned back and nodded. 

Remus smiled softly, seemingly relieved. 

-

Your tea time with Remus had been filled with content silence. Neither of you felt the urge to speak, it was a comfortable stillness as you sat side by side looking out his window. You didn't feel the need to express anything or address the twelve years that you were absent from each other's lives.

This felt enough for now. 

As the sun set you left, with a thank you and a small smile. He mirrored it. You felt like a bit of weight had been lifted and you spent the rest of the night with a small smile on your face. 

The next few weeks went along about the same, healer duties with the bonus of Remus passing by the hospital wing later on and having tea silently or you seeking him out in his office. You were afraid to talk, like you'd ruin it if you did. You felt as if your desperation to erase the last twelve years of silence and solitude might consume you.

But the full moon came around again and you desperately hoped Remus would come in the morning. For you to fuss over him, to make sure he was properly fed, to give him whatever sweets he wanted. You wanted to kiss the scars on his face as you once did, to run your fingers through his hair as you reassured him that it was over, that he was okay. Even if he kept his consciousness thanks to the potion, transformations were rough on him. You hadn't been able to even close your eyes.

You heard a knock on your door. You briefly glanced at the clock on your desk, 5:30 AM. Remus was out of it. And probably outside your door. You scrambled from your bed, closing the distance between you and the door, and cracked it open. Sure enough, the brown-haired man stood there, with his greenish-pale face and clammy skin.

"I'm sorry-"

"Remus please-" You dragged him inside, quickly directing him towards your bed. You made sure he laid down while you assessed him for any accidental injuries. As you got to work Remus watched you, the way you muttered to yourself as you read the labels to potions and serums to try and help him. Your dark blue silk gown flowed down your body, reaching right over your knee. It reminded him of a river at night. The lighter blue robe loosely tied around you pooled around ur feet as u crouched next to your medicine box. 

“Here drink this, it should make you feel better,” you say next to him, one leg tucked under your thigh, the other hanging from the side of the bed. You brought the small vial up to his lips, one hand under his head to try to bring him up. The green liquid tasted slightly bitter but he drank the whole vial without reproach. 

Remus sighed as he felt his body warm. You got up again, opening and closing cabinets, muttering to yourself again. You found a chocolate bar and a cloth with a sigh and walked briskly back to his side. Remus felt sadness bubble up from deep within. He thought of you all alone for so many years, he watched your face as you dabbed a warm damp cloth around his face. He hadn’t noticed before, how you didn’t look all that older. Tired, yes, beautiful, always. Last time he had seen you, the two of you were freshly 21 and you felt like you would eat the world raw. Now you were 33. Most people your age haven’t seen half of what you had. You had a frown on your face, and your eyes reflected a deep sorrow. 

You were so young. Remus thought of your time apart. He couldn't rationalize that he had lived so long without you.

You were both still so young.

”I’m sorry,” Remus couldn’t help saying it

”You don’t have to apologize for anything Rem,” your voice was barely above a whisper, you conjured some water in the glass on your bedside table. You went to help him drink from it and he grabbed it from your hand, sitting up.

“I do though,” his eyebrows stitched together in worry, he placed the cup back in its original spot. He couldn’t help but look away “I left-“

Your hands dropped onto your lap, you felt like your heart was falling out of your chest.

”You didn’t owe me anything, we just drifted-“

”Love you know that’s not true,” your head spun at the nickname, you hadn’t heard it come out of his mouth in so long. Old habits die hard. “I left you alone and we’re all the other has left.”

He shook his head and felt his eyes fill with tears. You could feel the tears start falling from yours as well.

”It’s my fault I should’ve tried harder-“ Remus laughed in indignation.

”Y/N it is not your fault,” as you tried to talk, to somehow convince him and yourself that your distance had been your doing, that you had been the one to cut him off, the one to leave, he grabbed your hand. “I was the one that stopped answering calls and the door, I moved away, I’m the one that did everything in my power to not think about what had happened and that included leaving you-"

Remus couldn't help but think the worst of himself, as he saw the tears stain your cheeks and your nose redden. You were full-on crying now, clutching his hand like he would vanish into thin air. Remus Lupin was someone who left. He knew this, he always had been, as a kid he ran from his problems. From his lycanthropy, from his mother's illness in his teenage years, from his father's sadness. He ran then, spending holidays at Hogwarts where he could pretend that the only thing that plagued him was the full moon, moving in with Sirius and Peter right after graduation. Being the first one out of the door after they had to go their separate ways for safety.

He was still a man that left. He left you as the both of you stood alone in the ruins of the family you had all built. He ran as far as he could. 

Remus Lupin was someone who left. And he feared that the look on your face now would forever make his heart bleed. Because how could he have let himself leave you?

But you didn't see that, and if you did you didn't hold it against him. Your tear-ridden eyes shone when you looked at him. He felt like he might suffocate under your gaze. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, for all the years he didn't, for all the times he almost did. Remus Lupin wanted to kiss you more than anything else in the world. 

That could wait, he had already waited a lifetime anyway.

He pulled your arm until your body collided with his chest, heart to heart. His hand pressed your head close to him, your hands gripping his soft sweater until your knuckles turned white. He buried his face in your hair as you both cried, sobs trembling through both your chests. Your knees on the bed as your top half lay on top of him. You didn't care, the only thing you could think about was how he was here now, how he held you, and the way his hand rubbed up and down your back. 

"Please never leave Remus," the words managed to escape you between sobs, and he could hardly manage to croak out a never again.

And he never would. Remus vowed to himself, at this moment with you in his arms, he'd never let go again.

He'd never leave.

-

It had become a habit for the two of you, to seek each other's comfort. You'd wonder what it felt like to kiss him. Although you were close now, there seemed to be a line neither of you would cross. Wary of the other's reaction. You figured that maybe after so many years any romantic interest in you had dissipated. 

So the habit persisted, he'd come beaten and battered after a full moon, Severus's potion-making is quite unreliable, isn't it? You figured he did it on purpose. And you'd patch the brown-haired man, only then would he pull you into his arms. Remus was soft and pliable, the exhaustion of the transformation made him melt into your body and your bed. He more often than not dragged himself to your room, even when the full moon was far, even when he felt good. He would make his way to your room, and you'd always greet him with your arms wide open and ready to press your bodies together until you fell asleep. He'd usually be gone by morning.

It was December now,  and the cold made his joints feel brittle and ache. 

He had gone directly to your room after dinner, he couldn't help but watch you as you got ready for bed. He stripped down from his robes until he was only in a loose white tee and a pair of joggers he had permanently left in your room. The aches that resonated through him often made you forget that Remus Lupin was still a young man. You were only 33. The remainders of youth highlighted the shape of his body as he threw himself on your bed. The white tee shifted upwards with his arms revealing slivers of his torso. You couldn't help but look through your mirror as you brushed your hair. 

Your dynamic had become somewhat domestic, he'd watch you get ready and pull you into his arms to sleep together. You felt like a silly teenager, playing house. Like this was the life you were supposed to live, the soft music pouring from the record player, a soft song you heard many years ago. The type of song that makes nostalgia and melancholy settle in your heart. This was it, the life you were supposed to live was the way Remus crossed the room and pulled you by the hand. The way his arm pulled you close and you slow danced, laughing at the way you tumbled around. You deserved a soft life, one with chocolate frogs and slow rhythms. A life with laughter and joy, of feeling unjudged, of feeling safe and warm. 

A life full of love.

And as Remus spun you around and laughter poured from both your lips you couldn't help but feel your heart swell. It felt like a warm flower bloomed in your chest as you looked at his smiling face. He slowed your spinning around the room as the song came to a close but you remained in his arms, you could feel the tip of his fingers tug slightly at a lock of your hair. You couldn't help but smile up at him between giggles. 

"Can I kiss you?" his words were merely a whisper, like a ghost of desire. And you couldn't help but smile even wider, pulling his neck down to press your lips against his soft ones. He tasted of spearmint and chocolate, and you couldn't help but break into a smile, lips still pressed onto his. He leaned back, holding your face between his large hands. Laughter bubbled from his lips as he leaned in for a second kiss, head spinning, his lips soft but firm. He dragged his lips to your cheeks, pressing pecks on the apples of your cheeks, on your jaw, on your neck. Laughter bounced between the two of you.

Fifteen years of desire piled up to one kiss. 

This life was the one you deserved. 

[my-castles-crumbling]

Regulus's Amortentia

Hey guys! Someone requested I do some writing exploring the ways Amortentia can smell (that it doesn't always reflect romantic love) so I decided to so a series of microfics about it! I'm hoping to get a few of them done today.

Eight

The first time Regulus smelled the potion was when he was young. His father had always been an experienced and talented potioneer, something he passed down to his son, and so when the eight-year-old smelled the clear liquid, he already knew what it was.

He didn't know what it smelled like.

It was a vague smell, out of reach even when he breathed deeply, a hint of something, but not enough for him to grasp it.

He fled the room when his father caught him and yelled loud enough to make the cauldron rattle.

Twelve

Being taken under Slughorn's wing was a blessing and a curse. The tutelage of a Professor allowed him respite from the confusion of his house-- the push and pull of his kind friends and the strong ideas of those in years above him. But he also knew he was ostracizing himself by labelling himself the teacher's pet.

It was one day as he hid in Slughorn's study that he happened upon the cauldron again.

This time, he recognized the smell.

Cut grass and old leather. The scent of Sirius's hair potion that he always caught in his nostrils when his older brother pulled him into a secret hug when his parents weren't looking. A strange whiff of warmth, like the fire in the dorm he shared with Barty and Evan, and the smell of Pandora's sage she constantly burnt.

Fifteen

This time, he smelled it when he was stopping someone else from consuming it. Some horrible, sleazy seventh-years had been spiking the drinks of younger girls as a joke, enjoying the chaos of watching them run amok with love. So he'd taken to sniffing Pandora and Dorcas's drinks before they ate, just in case.

It was in Pandora's pumpkin juice that he caught the tendrils of the same hair potion, warmth, and sage as two years ago. But now, a new scent joined. The smell of the showers after Quidditch practice, the spicy soap that an older boy used. An older boy Regulus tried desperately not to look at.

Blushing profusely, Regulus took the drink up to the professors, reporting the potion.

Sixteen

The first time he encountered the potion in his studies was shortly after his first huge fight with his parents. They'd found out about how he'd reported the older Slytherins, and how he thought more about boys than girls. Sirius had left that previous summer, and Regulus had followed behind. His entire world had been turned on its axis.

And he'd also spent time with someone new. Someone with circular glasses and infuriatingly messy hair.

He shouldn't have been surprised, when the smell accosted his nostrils. When he stepped into the classroom and breathed deeply to inhale small scents of smoke and hair potion and leather and sage.

And sunshine.

He couldn't explain it, but the scent of the sun overpowered everything else, nearly knocking him backward.

And he shouldn't have been surprised.

But still, he gasped with the knowledge that not only did he love his brother and his friends, but he was in love.

With James Potter.

[megalony]

Second Chances

Hi, so this is my first Bobby Nash x reader imagine, thank you to the amazing anon who sent in this idea. I had such fun writing this and I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: Bobby feels like his relationship with (Y/n) is a second chance at happiness. Even though she is younger than him, and sometimes he worries he is holding her back. But then things progress further.

Enjoy.

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

When Bobby propped his feet up on the coffee table, a smile tugged at (Y/n)'s lips and she shifted around too. She shuffled down the sofa a bit so she was slouched down with her legs curled beneath her and her feet pressing into the arm of the sofa.

Both hands moved to curl around Bobby's arm and her cheek fell to rest on his shoulder.

The movie playing on the tv was good, it was entertaining enough, but it didn't hold (Y/n)'s entire focus. Her attention was split between the movie and the person sitting next to her. She wasn't sure why Bobby kept stealing her attention, it wasn't as if he had been gone for days or even weeks. He had been gone for little over twelve hours while he had been at work, and she was used to it.

She was with the Captain of the station, Bobby had to do extra shifts. He had paperwork to sort and file, leave to approve and deny, rotas to sort out and shifts to cover. His job was demanding and (Y/n) was used to his time needing to be split.

Maybe it was just because he was home.

That sounded strangely wonderful. Home. Home was where Bobby was. It didn't mean the house where she used to live with her sister when she moved to LA. It didn't mean that odd, vacant flat that had felt horrible to come home to when she lived on her own.

Home didn't mean spending evenings alone or turning all the lamps on so it felt warm instead of odd and deafeningly quiet.

It meant being here with Bobby. It wasn't a case of finding out in advance what shifts he was working so they knew when they could spend days together or stay over at each other's places. It wasn't a case of messaging him when she was alone and he was at work or when they were both in separate homes and separate beds.

Knowing there was someone else to come home to or who was waiting at home for her made (Y/n) feel alive. It made her feel safe and complete and like she wasn't alone anymore.

Tilting her head down a little, (Y/n) attached her lips to Bobby's shoulder and began gliding her fingers up and down his arm like she was drawing patterns and secret messages into his skin. She knew he was smiling when she felt him kiss the top of her head and she wondered if his attention was fully on the movie or if his mind was wandering too.

"Can I ask you something?"

(Y/n) bit back the urge to tell him that he just did and settled for nodding against his shoulder.

She leaned her head back so her chin was pressing down into his shoulder and her head was at an angle so she could look up at him. Bobby seemed to debate whether or not to look at her as he spoke or keep his eyes on the screen. He settled for inclining his head in her direction but she was sure his eyes were focusing on her lips rather than her gaze while he spoke.

"Do you ever think you're missing out?" His question was so odd and out of place that a quirky smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips.

"On what?"

What was she supposed to be missing out on? What had he been thinking about to make him ask something like that? Had (Y/n) missed something here about where this conversation was leading?

"Life, in general? Doing things, rather than being here with me?"

The smile that had graced (Y/n)'s lips faded when Bobby's words registered with her and she realised where he was trying to go with this conversation.

Her head lifted from his shoulder and she switched positions so she wasn't sitting with her legs curled beneath her anymore. She moved to drape her legs across Bobby's lap which made him raise a brow and grin, despite the nerves about where this conversation was going to lead them.

He watched curiously as (Y/n) let go of his arm so she could fold her arms across her chest. And the way she sank back into the sofa made Bobby raise a brow. She looked like she was making a statement; making herself comfortable and cosy as if to prove that this was where she was, where she wanted to be, and she wouldn't be moving from this spot anytime soon.

"No."

"You're sure?"

(Y/n) couldn't quite comprehend how Bobby could be so calm while he was leading them down this road.

This wasn't the kind of conversation she wanted to have because it wasn't something she often found herself thinking about. This kind of thing didn't bother her.

Sure, they'd had a few ups and downs in the beginning. Bobby certainly didn't look his age, but it was clear that he was older than (Y/n). Not a lot of people cared or made clear judgements, but (Y/n) knew it was something Bobby thought about from time to time. He couldn't seem to grasp that they were both in the same place in their lives despite the age difference that suggested they should be at different stages.

The age didn't matter to (Y/n), not one bit. She loved Bobby and she wanted to be with him; as long as he felt the same then age was just a number and time felt like a fantasy.

"Yes… what do you think I should be doing?" She couldn't help but ask because she was curious.

(Y/n) wondered what it was Bobby thought she was missing out on and what he thought she should be doing to better spend her time than being here in their home. Than being with him.

"I don't know… going out, dating, finding yourself. A normal life."

The way Bobby waved his hand as he spoke made it sound so passing, so fleeting and (Y/n) couldn't help how her smile faded and her head pressed further back into the sofa. Her arms dropped from her chest and she reached back out to curl them back around Bobby's arm. When she gave a small tug, he loosened his arm and let her drag him across until his arm was across her chest and his hand curled around her thigh.

"This is my life, right here. With you." The sincere tone to her words seemed to catch Bobby off guard and his head twisted to look down at her.

The way his brows rose in surprise worried (Y/n) because she wondered if he truly believed those thoughts. If he believed she should be somewhere else, that she wanted to be somewhere else.

(Y/n) wasn't a lost soul needing guidance, she didn't need to go in search of her missing pieces. Every part of her was here and all of her was screaming any time she wasn't with Bobby. This is where she felt at peace, this was her home where she wanted to be and (Y/n) was very happy with that.

She didn't want to go out dating people when she had someone she loved and someone who clearly loved her right down to her bones.

Why wasn't this life normal? If no one knew about the age difference, if no one asked or bothered to think about it, then their lives would still be normal.

So what if (Y/n) hadn't dated hundreds of people before she got with Bobby? So what if he had a family before he met her? Everyone had different tappestries woven into their lives, this was no different.

"You're really happy with this, with me?" The apprehension in his voice sent a dagger piercing through (Y/n)'s ribs, trying to reach her heart.

"There's nowhere else I want to be; and no one else I want to be with, Bobby."

If she wasn't happy, she wouldn't be here. (Y/n) wouldn't of agreed to move in if she didn't think that their relationship was going to last. If she wasn't truly happy (Y/n) would of kept her apartment as a safety net in case things went wrong or if she didn't see this as a forever thing. But she had moved in with Bobby as soon as he asked because it was what she wanted to do.

(Y/n) didn't want to go out looking for people to 'have a good time with'. Her version of a good time was being with Bobby. Whether that meant going out for a meal, or staying in like tonight and watching a movie, or going to meet his team and spending an afternoon with them. Whatever they did together was (Y/n)'s version of a good time.

This is what she wanted and she needed Bobby to see that because she didn't want him to feel insecure when he had no reason to be. He wasn't forcing her to stay home with him or holding her back from anything. In fact, it was the opposite. Bobby was the driving force behind almost everything (Y/n) did.

The way he smiled down at her made (Y/n)'s heart soar and she couldn't help but lean her chest into his arm so she could reach her hand out to cup his face. Her fingers cradled his cheek and her thumb brushed along his cheekbone as she stared lovingly up at him before pulling him down to her for a kiss.

She loved the way his hand tightened around her thigh and how he leaned into her, almost pressing her back into the sofa with a new sense of eagerness.

"Good, because I was thinking…" His words whispered against her lips as he rested his temple against hers. "I don't- I didn't have anyone to put as my emergency contact at work, if something ever happened to me. But maybe now it's time to add a name, to add you."

"Really?"

(Y/n) wasn't sure she had ever been anyone's emergency contact before. She had never been serious enough with anyone to be added as their contact at work. And she had never dated anyone with a job that meant they were more likely to be involved in accidents or incidents. Being an emergency contact always seemed like a far-fetched scenario, something that might never happen.

But in Bobby's line of work, it was something that was needed. If he went to hospital for any reason, who would they call? Who was close enough to him to come and visit and make sure he was okay and take him home?

Bobby had never added anyone before because the only people he was close to were his team. If something happened to Bobby while he was on the job, his team would be there with him so he had no reason to add any of them as his contact.

(Y/n) changed things. She lived with him now. She was his partner and he loved her. If something happened, Bobby would want (Y/n) there by his side, he could be calm in any situation, but having someone there with him to hold his hand and make everything feel okay was something he hadn't had in such a long time. It was something he wanted; something he needed.

"Really." He murmured quietly and he was unable to stop himself from smiling when he leaned across and stole a kiss from her lips.

When he kissed her again, (Y/n) moved her other hand so both hands were cupping his face. Her thumbs stroked across his cheekbones and she held him at bay just long enough to arch a brow and catch him with a serious look before he stole another kiss.

"This doesn't mean you start getting into trouble though. I'm thrilled to be your emergency number, but I don't exactly dream of getting that kind of call, you know."

(Y/n) was overwhelmed and delighted to be important enough to Bobby that he would add her to his file at work. That he would allow his colleagues to ring her and ask her down to the station or to the hospital if anything was ever wrong. But she didn't want this to mean she started getting lots of phone calls like that.

Those weren't the kind of phone calls (Y/n) dreamed or longed to have and so far, Bobby had done well not to get into serious trouble or accidents at work. She would love for him to keep up that winning streak so this formality, this precaution, never had to be put to use.

She loved the way his eyes clouded over and he flashed her that smile that made her knees weak as he swooped in and stole her lips again.

"Deal."

Running his hand along his face, Bobby took a deep breath before he clicked the save button on the computer.

There it was, in black and white. There was (Y/n)'s name, typed up in the contact information on Bobby's file. There was her number beneath that and their shared address in the bottom column.

And right there, right at the end after it said relationship in italics, was the word Partner.

That was all he needed to add. That was all anyone needed to see if Bobby ever got into an emergency so they knew who to call and who he would want there by his side. He would want (Y/n), because she was his girl, the person he went home to after every shift. The person he loved.

He clicked off the file before he looked down at the paper form in his hands. Computer forms were safer, they were backed up and saved and there was a copy on the personell file at headquarters. It was there for everybody to find in an emergency. But that didn't mean that they didn't have paper copies too. Copies to keep in the filing cabinet so if something happened, the shift lead could look through and call whoever was down as the emergency contact.

Bobby neatly added (Y/n)'s name at the bottom section of his own paperwork that had been filled out by his hand over five years ago. Paperwork that had always remained blank since he moved to LA. Paperwork that always used to make him tear up and lose his ability to breathe.

He didn't feel like that anymore. He felt like he could breathe in relief, that he could smile and not be covered in crawling, itching powder that made him think he was drowning in guilt and grief.

He could move on and be with someone else and he didn't have to feel guilty about that. He hadn't done anything wrong.

Once the paperwork was filled out, Bobby put his file away in the cabinet and locked the drawer before he turned on his heels and clamped his hands down on his hips.

Now that he had made that milestone, it was time for the next one. Time to ask the team if they wanted to come round to his and (Y/n)'s place at the weekend. It was about time Bobby introduced them to the person who had been making him smile so much recently. He knew his team well enough by now to know that none of them were going to judge and he didn't have anything to worry about, as far as they were concerned.

He didn't have to worry.

***

(Y/n) felt like she couldn't breathe when she walked into the station. She could feel her chest tightening to the point it was as if she had an elastic band snapped tight around her chest and it was about to snap.

She hadn't been to the station that many times, and each time, Bobby had brought her down. She had never turned up on her own before and it almost felt like she was intruding. Bobby told her she could come down any time she liked, he said they encouraged families to come down and see them and have a drink and a chat, granted as long as they weren't about to rush out on a big call.

But (Y/n) still felt like turning up unannounced was somehow rude of her and that the team might not appreciate it.

"Hey (Y/n)."

Her head quickly twisted to the right and she managed a smile when she saw Buck heading her way. He had a tea towel tossed over his shoulder implying he had been up in the kitchen. (Y/n) knew Bobby had been teaching him how to cook lately; Buck seemed the only one interested in cooking, everyone else was more than happy for Bobby to cook for them.

"Hi."

"You looking for Bobby?" When she nodded, Buck looked over his shoulder and hollered "Cap!" and waved his hand to the the side. He gave her shoulder a squeeze as he walked past her when they both saw Bobby aiming their way.

(Y/n) could feel the nerves igniting in her stomach and fluttering up to her chest when her eyes set on Bobby. That charming smile made the butterflies amplify and she felt like her head was going to implode with all the thoughts rushing round in her mind.

She tried her best not to let the nerves get to her smile when Bobby reached out for her. She let herself melt into his hold when his hands found her hips and his thumbs began stroking up and down her sides in a soothing motion that (Y/n) found herself focusing on instead. She pushed up on her toes to kiss him and gave his shoulders a squeeze.

"Hey, everything okay?" Bobby's head tilted to the side as he looked down at her and tried to gage her expression.

She never said she was stopping by today and as much as Bobby loved people dropping in, it wasn't something (Y/n) was accustomed to doing. He hoped she was here for a friendly visit and not because something was wrong or she was nervous about something.

He relaxed a little when (Y/n) stole another kiss and he felt her hand move to cup the side of his neck as she nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, just wondered if you had a moment to talk."

Bobby couldn't help the way he shivered when (Y/n)'s hand tickled down the side of his neck and across his chest. If she wanted to talk he was more than willing to take her into the office and find out what had brought her down here.

"Sure." Bobby dropped his hands from (Y/n)'s waist so he could take her hand in his. He did a quick sweep of the station, but everyone was busy with their own tasks which meant he was fine to head into the office for a while.

He tugged on her hand and led the way through the station towards the corridor at the end. It made him smile when he felt (Y/n)'s free hand curling around his arm and he loved the way she pressed up into him as she walked right beside him. With her lips and nose pressing into his bicep, (Y/n) inhaled his scent and her breaths fanned softly into his shirt as Bobby led her into his office at the end of the corridor.

When they reached the office, Bobby motioned towards the chair in front of his desk but (Y/n) shook her head. She didn't want to sit down. That would make this feel formal, as if she were here for an interview.

She chose to lean her hips back against the desk instead and slump her bag down on the desk so it wasn't weighing down on her shoulder anymore. Her relaxed stance made Bobby smile curiously at her and he stood in front of her, close enough that he was practically stood between her legs.

He reached out so his right hand was on the desk right beside (Y/n)'s hip while his other hand held his waist. The way he looked down at her made shivers course up and down (Y/n)'s spine and she tilted her head back so she was looking up at him.

"To what do I owe this visit?" He hummed quietly while he leaned across and pecked her temple.

"Here."

Bobby was a little more than surprised when (Y/n) reached into her bag and then held out a small black box towards his chest.

He wasn't sure what he'd done to be given a gift. Today wasn't anything special, Bobby was good with dates and he knew nothing had been written on the calendar today.

He pushed off the desk so he was back on his feet properly and gratefully took the box. Curiosity burned in his eyes as he removed the lid to see what he was being handed.

Anxiety started to well up in (Y/n)'s stomach again and she moved her hands behind her to grip the counter so she could keep herself steady. She felt so anxious and unbalanced that if she didn't hold onto something, (Y/n) was sure she was going to melt into a puddle on the floor. Her teeth sank down into her lower lip tight enough to make her breath hitch in her throat and her eyes followed Bobby as he took out the keychain.

She hadn't known what to get to break the news. Somehow it didn't feel right to just blurt the news out and (Y/n) didn't know if she'd have the nerve to tell Bobby outright. She wanted to find a way to tell him, something sweet to try and show that this wasn't a bad thing.

Her eyes tried to read Bobby's expression and see what he was thinking, but he looked oddly blank. He wasn't smiling, he wasn't frowning or shaking his head or raising a brow or sighing.

He wasn't doing anything.

He had the small square box in one hand and the keyring in the other with his thumb periodically stroking across the inscription on the front. (Y/n) had seen the keyring when she had been out and thought it was rather fitting; something told her she had to get it, she couldn't just walk past. Almost like fate.

Bobby felt like he had been cast under a spell. All he could do was stare at the silver heart in his hand that read 'Our Little Love' in the centre.

Somehow, it felt as if the keychain had magically transferred into Bobby's system. It felt like that keychain was a heart of stone, slowly but surely sinking down into the pit of his stomach.

It didn't take much for Bobby to read (Y/n)'s expression. The worry in her eyes, the tepid, anxious smile on her lips. The way her fingers were tapping on the desk and the way she kept darting her eyes around the office. And the moment Bobby slowly dragged his eyes down to her stomach and then back up again, he could of cried. The look in her eyes said it all.

"You're pregnant."

(Y/n) found the will to nod, but she didn't know what to do. She wanted to reach out for Bobby. She wanted to take his hand and wrap her arms around him and lean into him and try to see what was going through his mind, but she couldn't. She didn't have the willpower to move from where she was resting against the desk. Moving felt too nerve-wrecking.

This wasn't exactly planned, and this wasn't something they had talked about. Of course, (Y/n) knew all about Bobby's past. She knew about his family, about Marcy and the kids and what happened. She knew Bobby had taken time and done a lot of work to come to terms with what happened and the guilt he had carried around with him.

Knowing he was comfortable enough with her and loved her enough to talk about his family and tell her when he was feeling low made (Y/n)'s heart soar. She was glad he trusted her.

But the subject of kids never seemed to happen.

Deep down, (Y/n) had been praying that Bobby would be happy about this. She wanted him to smile or cry or just say that this was a good thing. This was a piece of each of them. This was a family of their own, a baby.

(Y/n) loved Bobby, she loved him more than anything in the world and she could just imagine him with their baby. She knew he would be amazing, he had loved being a dad when he was with Marcy, despite how different that had been and how things had played out.

"Bobby, say something." The hitch in her voice made (Y/n) roll her lips together and she found the will to push off the desk.

She shakily reached out and curled her hand around his wrist, stepping closer until she was almost pressed up into his chest. He had to say something. He had to give her some kind of inkling as to what was running through his head right now. (Y/n) had to know his initial thoughts on this and what this meant to him. For him. For them.

"This… this, this is big."

Tipping her head down, (Y/n) brushed her hand beneath her eyes to wipe away the tears that were starting to fall.

That was all she needed to hear to know what Bobby thought about this. He was overwhelmed. He was becoming riddled with anxiety and as much as (Y/n) wanted to be mad about it, she couldn't. She knew there was a big, big chance that Bobby wouldn't react well to this news but (Y/n) had prayed that he would be okay with this.

She took a step back and moved both hands to run up and down her face to try and gather her senses and calm herself down.

(Y/n) waited another minute to see if Bobby would say anything else, but all he seemed to do was stare down at the keyring. The lack of a proper response made (Y/n) tighten her hand around his wrist until she was almost cutting off his circulation, but he didn't seem to notice at all.

"I- I shouldn't have come here." Her hand released from Bobby's wrist to cover her mouth and she hooked her bag back on her shoulder so she could weave around him.

She didn't want to stand in this office and burst into tears. She would rather go and wallow at home and let this news sink in for Bobby. She should have waited. She should have told him later, but (Y/n) had been too nervous to wait around once she found out. And she had been begging, praying and relying on the slither of hope that Bobby might just react happily to this to will herself to come here today.

It had clearly been the wrong choice.

Bobby finally snapped out of his trance and set the keyring and box down on the desk before he turned in (Y/n)'s direction.

"Hey, I'm happy about this."

The way he whispered the words and kept darting his eyes around his own office made (Y/n) smile sadly. She shook her head, smothering a broken laugh with the palm of her hand.

"Somehow I don't think you'd have to convince me if that were true."

If Bobby were truly happy about this, he wouldn't need to convince her. He wouldn't have to reassure (Y/n) that this is what he wanted. She would see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. But all she could see was wallowing anxiety and pain. The exact opposite of what she needed to hear to convince her that Bobby wanted this baby.

"(Y/n)- (Y/n) please." Her name growled past his lips and he set off into a sprint when she left the office.

He didn't want her to leave. She couldn't drop a bombshell like that and then leave. They needed to talk. Bobby needed her to stay, he needed to think and talk and work out what this meant and what they were going to do about this. Bobby couldn't finish the rest of his shift with this news playing on his mind, it was going to distract him and in his line of work he couldn't afford distractions.

He hurried after her just as (Y/n) walked out the corridor and onto the station floor.

Before he could think about it, Bobby grabbed her wrist and reeled her back towards him. When she stumbled over her feet, he stepped closer so she tumbled into his chest and his other hand planted shakily on her waist to steady her and stop her from walking away.

He hated the tears that were welling up in her eyes and the way she pressed her shaking hand into his chest made his heart tremble.

"I'm gonna go. I'll see you at home."

He didn't respond quick enough. He didn't know what to say because nothing was coming to mind. All Bobby could focus on was the fact that he was being given a second chance. Another chance to ruin another life; two lives if he included (Y/n).

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her but that was what was going to happen, he could see it.

(Y/n) brushed both hands across her face and shook her head to try and calm herself down. She could feel her arms trembling and her hands stayed covering her mouth as she tried to stop herself from crying. She didn't want to cry here, in front of the team. She was just starting to get to know them and make friends with the people Bobby worked with, crying in front of them wouldn't help at all.

"Are you okay?"

She almost jumped when Hen reached out and placed a careful, tender hand on her shoulder just before (Y/n) got to the station doors.

"Fine, fine." She managed to nod her head, even though she knew her expression was anything but convincing. She didn't want to talk to anyone. The only person she needed to talk to was Bobby, and he seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

***

Both Bobby's hands began to tap against his hips in tandem with his boot that was thudding against the laminate floor. He could feel his jaw beginning to grind when (Y/n) turned her back on him; again.

They needed to talk.

She had barely spoken a word to him since he came home and although Bobby knew he deserved it, he couldn't stand the silence. They had to talk about this, the air needed to be cleared and he had been stewing all afternoon on what he wanted to say and how to try and broach the subject with her.

Bobby had left work early, he hadn't been able to finish his paperwork, he couldn't keep his mind on the job and all the team had seen the way he was drifting when they were trying to work. And he knew the team had seen (Y/n) disappear in a wave of tears. They knew something had been wrong and they had felt the tension in the air.

It wasn't normal for their Captain not to talk to them and Bobby had only spoken to bark out orders when it was necessary.

He had left Hen in charge for the rest of the shift and come home and he sighed in utter relief when he saw that (Y/n) was home too. He wouldn't of known what to do with himself if she had been out when he got back.

"Will you stop, please?" His hands reached out and curled around (Y/n)'s wrists, swiftly pulling her arms towards him and turning her away from the kitchen counter.

He couldn't stand and watch her flutter about the house in a panic, trying desperately to find something to do with herself to avoid this conversation.

He could feel her hands shaking in his grip and when she looked up at him, Bobby realised she was barely breathing, she was so nervous. He hated that he made her that nervous, that he was the reason she was panicking. That was the last thing he wanted to do here.

"I'm terrified, (Y/n)."

Bobby's hands tightened around her wrists until (Y/n) could no longer feel her hands. She tilted her head back so she was looking up at him and her teeth sank down in her lower lip again, which was now speckled with blood from how much she had been chewing on her lip from anxiety.

When he let go of her hands, he began to rub both his hands together and crack his knuckles. While (Y/n) folded both her arms over her chest.

All she wanted to do was move closer and burrow into Bobby's embrace. She always felt calmer and safe when he held her and they hardly ever had cause to argue. Even when they had been discussing the age difference in their relationship, they had never gone into full blown arguments.

When she didn't answer, it was clear she was waiting for Bobby to keep going. He was finally opening up and willing to talk and (Y/n) needed him to. She needed him to tell her what was on his mind and going through his head because she didn't know what else to do right now but listen.

"I- I messed up last time. I lost everyone I called my family and I buried my kids, that was my fault and something I have to live with. I don't- I'm grateful for a second chance, but I don't w- I don't want to lose anyone else."

Bobby had done something no parent should ever do. He buried both his kids. He lost them both and after that, he never thought he would meet someone else to share his life with, let alone have another child after what happened. He had resigned himself to the knowledge that his children were never going to get any older. He was never going to see anymore milestones, never take his daughter to prom or watch his kids graduate from school or walk his daughter down the aisle or see them have their own families.

That didn't look like it would be in Bobby's future and he was okay with that. He had come to terms with that. Having another child felt like a second chance he didn't deserve. Bobby wasn't a victim, he had been the reason he lost his family.

Did he truly deserve another?

"History doesn't always repeat itself Bobby, and this baby wouldn't be a replacement, you know that, right?"

(Y/n) looked like she was going to reach out for him, but when she saw the way Bobby tangled his hand in his hair and started to tug on the short strands, she stopped. Instead, she gestured to the limited photos around the apartment.

There weren't many pictures of Bobby's children. He had two photos of them on the walls, a drawer full of pictures in the bedroom and a photo album he only looked through when he was having a breakdown. It had taken him years to be able to have their pictures on the walls and face them every day, but Bobby was finally at that place now; because he was with (Y/n).

This baby would never be a replacement or a second chance, it would just be an extension of Bobby's family. This baby would grow up knowing they had two older siblings they would never meet but would always see in photos.

This would never be the start of a new life where Bobby would have to leave his old life behind and forget his family. (Y/n) would never do that to him or expect Bobby to forget his family. But this baby would be a part of them, it would be a new chapter in their lives. This was something (Y/n) desperately wanted to be happy about.

"(Y/n), I'm older than you." Bobby's jaw locked and his hands moved and began flexing at his sides, continuously clenching into fists and unclenching again like he was preparing for some sort of fight.

His shoulders tensed when (Y/n) scoffed and held her hands out like she didn't understand what that revelation was supposed to mean.

"So?"

What did that matter? They had gone over that so many times since they first decided to get into a relationship together and (Y/n) was tired of that subject. Being with an older man wasn't something that weighed heavily on (Y/n)'s mind and she didn't let it get in the way of their relationship or make things complicated because it didn't need to be complicated.

"You're at the age of starting a family, I'm not."

His words had (Y/n) pulling her sleeves over her hands which she pressed against her lips to stop herself from screaming in frustration.

"I'm… God, I'm quite a bit older than you, don't you think that might cause a few issues with a baby? People will see me with this baby and think I'm the granddad. Our kid will notice all the other dads at the school or on the playground are a lot younger than theirs. I don't want you or them to resent me for that."

"Bobby… you really think I'd t-think that?" The broken tone in (Y/n)'s voice made a tear cascade down Bobby's face.

Maybe he didn't think (Y/n) would believe that, but it didn't stop his mind from believing it.

Bobby had started a family over a decade ago. He had begun and ended his family, he wasn't at the preferred age for having a baby, no matter how badly he might want one.

He was afraid. He was worried of taking a baby out and have everyone believe it was his grandchild rather than his baby or have people look at them funny if the three of them went out somewhere. And then there was school and plays and activities to consider. Bobby would be the odd one out. He would be the elder one there at events, he would be the elder dad.

What would their child think? Would they be okay with their dad being much older than everyone else's? Would they think it was strange? Would they resent Bobby for that, would they blame him?

Would (Y/n) start to blame him? Bobby dreaded the thought of (Y/n) waking up in five or ten years time and wondering if having a child with someone older, with Bobby, might have been a mistake.

What they had together was special, Bobby couldn't stand to lose this or do anything that would change what they had or make it difficult. He didn't want (Y/n) or another child to resent him a few years down the line. He didn't want this to be complicated when it should be a happy time in their lives.

And he didn't want to lose anyone else.

Bobby realised a second too late that he hadn't answered her. He realised when the tears were streaming down (Y/n)'s face and she was walking away from him.

He felt rooted to the spot, tears flushing down his own face until he heard (Y/n) moving about.

He followed her into the bedroom, but his heart lurched up into his throat and he all but gasped when she slung her bag on her shoulder and walked out again. Bobby followed after her like a shadow, like a lovesick puppy desperate for her to talk to him and he grabbed her wrist and weaved in front of her to make her stop and actually talk to him again.

"What are you doing?" The panic in his voice made (Y/n) whimper and she took a step back so she didn't melt into his arms and give in.

"I'm gonna stay with Anna for a while."

They needed space. They needed to think things over and then decide what they were doing about this situation. Arguing wasn't going to help and neither was getting overwhelmed and panicked. (Y/n) would go and stay with her sister for the night, for a day or two until she and Bobby had things all figured out.

She wasn't sure whether it was easier or harder when Bobby didn't stop her.

He couldn't stop himself. As soon as the front door closed, Bobby grabbed the nearest thing to hand, which happened to be a candle holder, and tossed it against the wall. He watched the glass shatter and lumps of wax scatter along the floor resembling the broken pieces of his heart that Bobby couldn't mould back together yet.

He wasn't sure how long he had been sat at the kitchen table. He didn't know what time it was or where his phone was or what he was going to do. He had no idea if (Y/n) had messaged him, he didn't know if she had actually gone to Anna's or if she decided to go somewhere else. He didn't know if Hen finished the shift okay and if the team were all alright.

All he knew was that he needed to do something. He needed to explain. He needed to get all the thoughts from his head and the weight off of his heart before it gave out.

His fingers drummed against the table to the point he was sure he would be leaving indents in the wood and his knee jutted into the underside of the table every other second in a continuous manner.

But after another minute, maybe two, Bobby turned around. He found a spare piece of paper from the drawer behind him.

He snatched a pen from the bowl in the centre of the table and tried to write. He wasn't sure where he wanted to start, where it would lead or what he was doing.

All Bobby knew was that he had to do something before he imploded.

The tears trickling down his face splotched onto the fresh ink on the paper and created dark hazy blue welts across the page, but it didn't stop him from writing. It didn't stop him from pouring his bleeding, crumpling heart out onto the page that had (Y/n)'s name written across the top.

'I was the catalyst last time. I was the cause, the effect and the reason; it's my fault they're gone.'

Bobby didn't want to do it again. He didn't want to get so close to someone, to share his life and his heart and create a new life with them only to lose them both. He would love nothing more than to have a baby with (Y/n), but Bobby wasn't so sure he deserved it. And he would never want to do this if sometime in the future both (Y/n) and their baby would resent him.

'Maybe I don't deserve this second chance, no matter how much I want it. And if that's true, then I'm never going to be enough for either of you.'

***

Three days.

(Y/n) had been staying with Anna for three days and she didn't know what to do anymore.

She had been too nervous, too overwhelmed and sick to go into work yesterday, today as well. Morning sickness didn't combine well with anxiety and (Y/n) had thrown up everything she had tried to eat since she'd been staying with her sister.

Sinking back into the sofa, (Y/n) closed her eyes and burrowed her face into the cushion. She wanted to disappear. Well, she actually wanted to go home. Being here with Anna had been nice for the first night, to spend a bit of time with her big sister, but it wasn't home. This wasn't where (Y/n)'s heart wanted to be and she was becoming desperate to be back in Bobby's arms.

But she couldn't just go back home if her and Bobby weren't on speaking terms. She figured he was still thinking things over and deciding how he felt about this, and that was okay. He needed time, but (Y/n) didn't know what to do with herself.

She tried to focus on the sound of the tv that was on low in the background, but it couldn't overpower the thumping of her heart that was pulsing in her ears.

She didn't feel well.

She hadn't been feeling well for a while, presumably because she was too nervous to eat and kept throwing everything back up again.

A gasp tumbled past her lips and her hand suddenly moved down to press into her abdomen when a sudden pain jolted through her.

Her eyes snapped open and she tilted her head down to look at her stomach as if she could see through her skin and find the cause of the pain. Her eyes narrowed as her body tensed up and she waited, trying to hold her breath to see if she had just moved the wrong way and tensed a muscle. But when the pain ignited again and felt like a sharp cramp, her body started to shake.

She waited. The tv faded into static in her ears and she waited for a while, begging for this just to be her body telling her she had to go and get something to eat. But it didn't feel like it was her stomach that was cramping from lack of food. It was her abdomen, and they were turning into sharp pains.

"Oow… no, please."

Her palm pressed down into her abdomen and she slowly pushed up off the cushion and reached across for her phone on the coffee table.

Shivers coursed up and down her spine and her body started to tremble when she unlocked her phone and found Bobby's contact.

She called him without hesitation. (Y/n) had no idea whether Bobby was still at work or if he was in bed after a night shift or if he was getting ready for work. She couldn't remember what his shifts were this week and she didn't have the calendar in front of her to see what he had written down for his work pattern.

Her free hand pressed down into her abdomen and she creased forward, hating the tears that were beginning to streak down her face as she begged for Bobby to answer the phone. He couldn't always pick up if he was at work.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm glad you called."

His voice was like music to (Y/n)'s ears.

There was something bright yet deflated in Bobby's tone at the same time. He was relieved (Y/n) had called. He didn't want to call her first because he wanted her to let him know when she was ready to talk, she had been the one to leave, to take a break and Bobby wanted her to take all the time she needed.

That didn't stop him from sending a message every now and then, asking if she was okay, hoping she was alright and to message him if she needed anything. He wasn't good at being on radio silence.

The last three days had been hard. Bobby could barely concentrate; he didn't know what to do with himself. And he hadn't been home except to sleep, he went to work yesterday when he was supposed to have the day off because he couldn't stand to be home when (Y/n) wasn't there; it wasn't home without her. Strange, how he had gone from feeling comfortable with his own presence to hating his home if (Y/n) wasn't in it.

"Can you help me?" The feeble tone to her voice made Bobby's heart tense and his hand curled into a fist at his side until his nails were puncturing into his palm.

"What's wrong?"

"I- I'm getting cramps… Bobby, I don't k-know what to do." It was clear she was doing her level best not to cry and that made Bobby's heart stutter.

She sounded frightened. He didn't like that, not one bit. Why did she have to be in pain when he wasn't there?

"Are you still at Anna's?" When he heard her hum in agreement he nodded to himself. "Then I'm coming to get you. I won't be long, okay? Just wait there for me, sweetheart."

Bobby hated to panic Hen when he told her she was now in charge for the remainder of the shift, again. But he didn't have time to explain. He had to get to his partner. He had to go and get (Y/n).

All Bobby could see when he was driving was (Y/n) flashing before his eyes. Had he done this? Was this his fault? If they had talked properly three days ago and didn't leave things the way they did, would this be happening now?

Oh God, was she going to lose the baby? Was God going to punish Bobby for not taking this chance the moment he got it? Was this his punishment- was God punishing him again by hurting (Y/n)?

It didn't take him long to get to Anna's house and Bobby wasn't sure he was relieved or not to find that Anna's car wasn't there. He didn't like the thought of (Y/n) suffering and being in pain on her own, but at least this way he could take her to the emergency room and look after her himself.

He didn't even get chance to knock on the door. By the time he got out the car and hooked the keys on his thumb, the front door was open.

He hustled up the front steps, only now aware that he was still in his starched work trousers and cotton shirt, both of which smelled like smoke and were layered with dust. And he swiped the back of his hand across his face to smear off any smoke or dirt that was clinging to his skin.

"Alright sweetheart, I'm here." He passed over the threshold and found (Y/n) stood to one side, leaning heavily on the wall.

She didn't look well. Tears streaming down her face, lower lip wobbling, eyes hazy with pain and she had one arm deadlocked around her waist like it would do something to take the pain away.

Bobby was taken back when (Y/n) immediately pushed off the wall and almost fell into his arms. Her face burrowed down into his chest and her arm deadlocked around his waist while her other arm stayed imbedded between them, pressing into her abdomen.

"Talk to me," He murmured quietly into her hair while one hand held her arm and the other cupped the back of her neck.

"My stomach, it hurts." (Y/n) kept her face meshed into Bobby's chest with her nose squashed against his sternum and her fingers digging into his back like she thought he was going to be ripped from her hold at any moment.

"Okay, then let's get you down to the emergency room and get you checked out."

Bobby didn't like how quiet was on the way down to the hospital. He hated the silence, but he could understand that she didn't know what to say and wasn't in the mood to try and strike up small talk.

Every time he glanced to the right to check on her, he could feel his breaths running away without him whenever she winced. He watched how she had one hand resting on her stomach, but her shoulders twitched and pulled inwards whenever she had a cramp.

Although when she reached her free hand out and gripped his thigh, Bobby reached down and took her hand tightly in his.

(Y/n) stayed quiet when they got to the emergency room. As soon as they were inside, she burrowed her face into Bobby's chest again and huddled up beneath his arm that bound around her back like an iron bar of protection. She let Bobby reel off her information and what was happening and her eyes stayed closed even as he guided her across to sit down in the waiting area that was unusually quiet.

She tried to focus on the feeling of Bobby's hand gliding up and down her arm, and his lips that were attached to the top of her head. When he moved his other hand to rake up and down her thigh, she almost melted against his chest.

His touch made her feel calmer, but it didn't stop the thoughts from rushing round in her head. What if this was fate's way of making the choice for them? Maybe fate thought that this wasn't the right thing for them and was trying to take the baby away. (Y/n) didn't want that; but she wasn't so sure about Bobby.

"You're gonna be fine."

It was almost as if Bobby could read her thoughts. He stroked his hand up and down her arm and spoke into her hair while his eyes darted around the waiting room, taking everything in. He wished he had his rosary beads with him; it might have calmed them both down a little and he would of prayed.

This wasn't what Bobby wanted. He was worried about being given a second chance, but that didn't mean that he wanted (Y/n) to lose the baby. He didn't want that. This life hadn't started yet, but it was precious and Bobby didn't want to lose their baby.

When her name was called, Bobby kept his arm around her waist and let (Y/n) stay tucked up into his side. His hand squeezed her hip and his lips pressed a few dozen kisses to the side of her head as they followed after the doctor down into the assessment ward.

"Okay, the notes say you're experiencing cramps. Do you know how far along you are?"

(Y/n) sat down on the bed in the middle of the room, but when Bobby went to stand out the way, her hand immediately reached out for him. She didn't want him to sit at the back of the room or stand to one side, she wanted Bobby to stay as close as possible. She wasn't sure she could bear this if they were going to get bad news.

He was stood beside her within a second, his hand tangled in hers and his other hand cupping the side of her neck so he could kiss her temple.

"Ten weeks or so."

"Any bleeding?" She jotted down a few notes when (Y/n) shook her head. "Let's take a look, and then we'll draw some blood and go from there."

(Y/n) sat up on the bed and swung her legs over, but she couldn't look at the doctor once she lifted her shirt. Her eyes deadlocked with Bobby as he took a step closer to the bed, keeping tight hold of her hand while his other arm panned across his chest.

They both stayed silent as the doctor checked her stomach and prodded around for any sensitive areas. When she pressed on (Y/n)'s upper stomach she felt like she was going to be sick, but she knew she hadn't eaten anything to be able to do that.

She couldn't look. Once the ultrasound began, (Y/n) closed her eyes and turned her head in Bobby's direction. Maybe she shouldn't have told him. Maybe if she'd waited a few more days, this would of occurred and neither of them would of had to argue or sit in anguish for the past few days. Had this been inevitable? Or was she losing the baby because fate decided this wasn't in their cards?

"Well, bloodflow looks good, everything is in place. The good news is you're not having a miscarriage, the pains could be routine or from stress or not eating right."

When (Y/n) snapped her eyes open, she looked up but her jaw loosened when she watched Bobby's expression change. He didn't look shell-shocked or upset or confused or blank. He was smiling. (Y/n) didn't think she would see Bobby smile in regards to this pregnancy, at least not yet and she thought he would simply look relieved or squeeze her hand. He was smiling.

"Does- does that mean there's bad news?" (Y/n) pulled Bobby's hand close to her chest while his free hand started to glide up and down her thigh. She didn't miss the way he leaned towards her to try and get a look at the monitor.

It had been a long while since he'd been in this position and seen a baby up on the screen. His baby.

"Well that depends on your views on twins."

Twins. Two babies.

A shiver coursed down (Y/n)'s spine when she suddenly felt Bobby's hand cupping the back of her neck so he could lean over her. His lips attached to her temple but (Y/n) grinned when she felt him chuckling against her skin and squeezing her hand.

Reaching up, she cupped his neck and closed her eyes, tilting her temple more into his touch. This was good news. This was all good news.

***

"You sure you feel okay?"

A tender look spread across (Y/n)'s face as she headed inside and aimed for the kitchen. She could feel Bobby hovering close behind her, following her lead inside their home.

"I'm fine," She reassured, reaching her hand behind her until she found his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

She'd had some medication at the hospital to relax her and some anti sickness meds so she could actually have something to eat. She felt a lot better and because the cramps had gone and her blood works had come back fine, she had been sent home. She was fine. The babies were fine.

She dropped her bag from her shoulder and slumped it onto the kitchen table, but her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to one side when she looked down.

"What's this?"

Bobby had written her a letter? He didn't usually write letters to anyone, he wasn't even one for writing long text messages, he preferred to talk or argue or rant in person rather than on paper. But when (Y/n) picked up the letter which had her name in Bobby's cursive handwriting along the top, she couldn't resist.

It was addressed to her, if it weren't she would have inquired but left the letter alone.

She jumped when she felt Bobby's hands on her hips and his chin perching down on her shoulder, but she continued to read the letter. If he didn't want her to he would of said something or tore the letter from her hands. His lips attached to the side of her neck and he rhythmically squeezed her hips every now and then while he patiently waited for her to read his words.

His chest pressed down into her back like he was moulding himself around her like a blanket and it was comforting.

But (Y/n) could feel tears welling up in her eyes and spilling over her cheeks when she read his words.

He didn't have to feel nervous. He didn't have to have doubts or feel like he wasn't going to be enough for her and the baby- both babies. Bobby was always going to be everything (Y/n) wanted and needed, and their kids were going to feel exactly the same.

When she placed the letter down on the table next to her bag, (Y/n) spun around in Bobby's arms and looped her arms around his neck. She pushed up on her toes until she could attach her lips to the junction behind his ear but she felt the way he shivered when he felt her tears soaking into his skin.

Something soft crossed Bobby's face and he smiled tearily when he felt (Y/n) murmuring "I'm sorry," into his neck. As if she had anything to apologise for.

"That's my line."

Everything Bobby hadn't been able to say three days ago was written down in that letter. Every worry, every bad thought, every reason why he didn't feel like this was the life he deserved. It was all there for her to see, but right at the bottom of the note, he'd written another line of truth.

He told her the truth when he said he was happy. He may have been overwhelmed with anxiety, but he was still happy. He loved (Y/n) to the end of the Earth and having a baby with her was a dream Bobby never thought he would get.

"I can't help worrying, or believing that I don't deserve you or them. But I can promise to be here and do this with you. I want to be the best dad I can for them; for you."

[chronicowboy]

(we tried) we said we'd keep in touch | 6.9k

On the twelfth day of Christmas, the universe gave Evan Buckley twelve gingerbread men, eleven blueberry muffins (dropped one), ten scones, nine fruit pies, eight burns on his hands, seven stitches in the cut above his eyebrow, six oatmeal cookies, five loaf cakes, four nameless hook-ups in seedy bars, three strikes from Bobby, two best friends in Texas and one pregnant sister kidnapped by a maniacal serial killer.

All that to say—Buck isn't much feeling the festive spirit this year.

And everybody must be able to read the bah humbug on his face because Bobby somehow manages to wrangle them a day off on Christmas. Maddie offers to host at her house just so long as Bobby is in charge of the turkey—Chimney keeps talking about a deep fryer. Hen says her and Karen will be in charge of drinks, and even Grinch Buckley salivates at the phantom smell of the Wilsons' mulled wine and spiced cider.

Then, they all turn to him, and Buck is already making a list of the ingredients he'll need for a Yule log and a gingerbread house and those weird spiced German cookies that Buck can't pronounce and Eddie swears he hates but secretly sucks  down like a lab rat with cocaine. But—

Christopher is eight-hundred miles away making a gingerbread house of his own, maybe with Eddie, maybe with his grandparents. And no one will make them a chocolate Yule cake even though it's their absolute favourite, and Buck swears he got drunk off Eddie and Christopher's delighted faces when he'd unveiled his first homemade attempt at the station their second Christmas together. Or someone will make it, but they'll make it wrong. Frosting too sweet, not enough powdered sugar to make it look like a blizzard had passed through. They'll forget to chop the end off at an angle to make a little branch. And they won't make a little marzipan robin that Christopher won't let anyone eat because it's too cute.

Buck shakes his head like an etch-a-sketch. Erases everything but that yawning grief that seems to tear soul open just a little wider every day, so that the loneliness can flood in. He asks how everyone feels about trifle, sugar cookies, tiramisu. And it's fine.

Everything is fine.

(OR: buck is feeling very bah humbug, but he gets his christmas miracle even if it's a day late)

[jessieren]

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas

My Evans gave to me...

Eleven Evans Drinking (but only with two fingers...)

This one is especially worth the wait...

[milunalupin]

— two turtle doves

remus lupin x reader ★ 1.2k words

twelve days of nico-mas masterlist

It was the holiday season, and James Potter’s house was alive with warmth and laughter, a perfect contrast to the cold winter outside. The old manor, tucked away in the countryside, was bustling with the sounds of four excited Marauders and their three closest friends—Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, and you—who had gathered there to celebrate the holidays. It was a rare occasion where the entire group could come together with everyone's busy schedules, and James had insisted on hosting the event at his family’s house.

Sirius had already begun to set up an impromptu game of wizard’s chess, which quickly devolved into a mock battle with flying pieces and the occasional dramatic outburst. Marlene and Lily were in the kitchen, chatting animatedly as they prepared a mountain of food that seemed to replenish itself every time someone took a serving. James and Peter, who had taken to lounging on the couch, were discussing something in low voices, though their conversation was peppered with bursts of laughter.

But amidst the joyful noise, there was one person who wasn’t quite as carefree as the others.

Remus Lupin sat at the corner of the room, watching the festivities unfold, his fingers nervously tapping the edge of his glass. His eyes drifted to you. You were initially sitting near the fire, wrapped in a knitted blanket, but were dragged over by Sirius to help him clean up the chess pieces. Your hair caught the light in a way that made it look like you had little bits of starlight woven into it, and it was a sight that Remus had grown to appreciate more than he liked to admit.

The problem? Remus had drawn your name for the Secret Santa exchange.

His stomach fluttered at the thought. He had liked you for ages—since your first year at Hogwarts, when you’d enchanted him with all of your astronomy talk. But in all the time that had passed, Remus never had the courage to confess his feelings. Instead, he had buried them deep, convinced that someone like him—someone who had so many things to hide—wasn’t meant for someone like you.

He could still remember the panic that had set in when he’d drawn your name from the hat, his heartbeat quickening as he realized he’d have to gift you something. Something meaningful. What could he give you? What would you even like? Remus had spent the last few weeks combing through shops and stores in Hogsmeade, trying to find the perfect gift, but nothing felt right. Every item he considered somehow seemed inadequate for someone he treasured as much as you.

He sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his chair as he watched you, trying not to be too obvious. You caught his gaze once, offering him a warm smile that sent a jolt of heat through his chest. He quickly looked away, his face flushing in a way that was unmistakable to anyone who knew him well. Unfortunately for him, that would be everyone in the house.

James, ever the observant one, leaned over to him, grinning knowingly, “You’re not fooling anyone”.

Remus shot him a look that could have melted a frost salamander, but it did little to deter James, who was enjoying himself immensely. Peter, ever the second to James in enthusiasm, chimed in. “Yeah, mate, you’ve been eyeing her all day. It’s just Secret Santa, right?”

Remus groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think it’s just that,” he mumbled under his breath, but James’s grin only widened.

“I know, I know. Trust me, I’m rooting for you,” James said, giving him a little nudge. “On with it now, it’s time for the exchange.”

And with that, the room settled down, everyone gathering around the tree in the corner where a pile of neatly wrapped gifts lay. Marlene and Lily sat side by side with a smugness that was only slightly irritating—both of them had a reputation for picking perfect presents. You, on the other hand, were quietly fiddling with the edge of your sweater, still unaware that Remus was about to hand you a gift that would send his heart into overdrive.

As the Secret Santa exchange began, one by one, people took turns giving their presents. The room was filled with laughter and excitement as everyone unwrapped their surprises. James had given Lily a knit scarf she’d been eyeing for ages, Sirius had gifted Marlene a new pair of combat boots, and Peter, surprisingly, had chosen a book of obscure magical creatures for James.

And then, it was Remus’s turn.

His heart hammered in his chest as he stood up, holding a small, amateurly wrapped package in his hands. You looked up as he approached, your smile gentle and warm, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped moving.

“Here, dove,” Remus said, his voice surprisingly steady. He held out the gift toward you, his fingers trembling ever so slightly.

Your eyes widened with curiosity, and you smiled. “For me?”

“Yeah… I-I hope you like it,” he said quietly, his gaze meeting yours before quickly darting away. He couldn’t quite bring himself to look at you for too long.

You carefully tore off the paper, revealing a box containing small silver pendant in the shape of a crescent moon, delicate and shining with an almost ethereal glow. Beside it was a matching pair of star earrings that sparkled as if they had just been pulled down form the night sky. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you lifted it from the box.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, turning it over in your fingers. “Remus this is too much."

Remus swallowed, suddenly feeling like the weight of the world was pressing on his chest. “It… it reminded me of you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “The moon, I mean. It’s kind of… I don’t know… I thought you might like it. You like astronomy... and stuff."

You looked at him, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The room felt strangely quiet, as if the air had thickened with the unsaid words between you. Finally, you reached out and gently took his hand, your touch sending a warmth through him that he hadn’t anticipated.

“Remus,” you said softly, a genuine smile on your face. “This is… more than I could have ever asked for. It’s perfect, thank you."

His heart skipped a beat at your words. He could feel the blush creeping up his neck, and he struggled to maintain composure, his fingers still tingling from the touch of yours. The rest of the group was watching, but for a moment, it didn’t matter. Remus finally allowed himself to look you in the eye, and the unspoken connection between you two was more than words could ever convey.

“Well,” Sirius, ever the instigator, raised his glass. “To Moony, the Marauder with a heart!”

The rest of the group joined in, raising their glasses in a clink of celebration. Remus shot them all an exasperated look, but his heart was light. When the noise died down, you looked back at him, still holding the pendant in your hand.

“You’re welcome dove," Remus said softly, though his voice was steady now. “I’m glad you like it.”

And as the night went on, the warmth of the holiday season wrapped around you all, filled with laughter, food, and the simple joy of being together. For Remus, however, the most perfect gift of all had just been given—because for the first time in a long while, he felt like maybe, just maybe, there was hope for something more between you and him.

— taglist ♥︎

@willowlovestheweasleys

[achilles-rage]

achilles-rage’s twelve days of christmas

day five: mistletoe (ft. evan buckley)

summary: buck, your best friend, tries to get you under the mistletoe.

word count: 2.1k

series masterlist

a/n: i love how this turned out hehe. i find writing for buck so easy so this was so fun lol. anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: none, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader, barely edited (sorry lol)

It’s no secret that your best friend is in love with you. He’s constantly trying to spend time with you, which would be normal for a best friend to do if he weren’t always trying to touch you. If you hug him, he’d slowly slide his hands down your back towards your ass, just bordering on more than friendly when you finally let out an exasperated “Buck!”

Or when you were spending the night at his place, he’d insist on you both sleeping in his bed, on the argument that no one should have to sleep on the couch. He’d pull your back flush against his chest while his hand moved up your plush tummy, letting his thumb ghost along the underside of your breast before you snap and call out his name again.

Yes, it’s no secret that Buck is in love with you, to everyone except you, apparently.

No one blames you, of course. He’s flirty with everyone, you know that. You also know that sometimes he likes to cause trouble, just for his own entertainment, and, to you, it seems that his favourite way to do so is to make you so flustered and shy that your brain practically shuts down.

His most recent way to see your sheepish, embarrassed expression is by teasing you to no end about the mistletoe that you put up in your apartment when decorating for the holidays.

The first time he saw it, you saw the smirk grow on his face as he stepped closer to you, now standing directly under the kitchen doorway as you watched him with furrowed brows from the stove.

Before you could figure out what he was smirking for; you had completely forgotten about the mistletoe that you haphazardly hung up while unpacking your decorations, he spoke, his voice low and smooth.

“What’s this? If you wanted me to kiss you, you should’ve just said so.” You scoff, rolling your eyes with a smile. You watch as he raises his brows, holding his hands out to his sides as if presenting himself to you.

“I’m not. It’s just a decoration.” you tell him, heat rising in your cheeks as you walk closer to him, ready to pull down the mistletoe from its spot. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. You know that for him, this is another way to mess with you.

“Oh, is it? Come on, you know the rules.” he practically purrs, pulling you close once you’re within arm’s reach of him. He holds onto your wide hips firmly, looking down at you with that same smirk plastered to his face, and you can feel every thought leave your brain as you feel his breath on your skin.

“I’m not kissing you under the mistletoe.” you whisper, but God, do you want to. You part from him after a moment, forcing yourself away from him before you become even more tempted to kiss your best friend. He’s joking, for fucksake, you think.

He lets his hands drop from their home on your hips as you back away, trying not to let his disappointment show. As much as he wishes you’d just give in to his advances, he does love messing with you, although he feels a little bad.

He would stop immediately if you ever were to act uncomfortable with his touches and his words, but you always laugh them off, which he’s thankful for. He can be impulsive sometimes, he knows that, but he can’t help it, especially with you. He knows he probably shouldn’t continue with his flirting; you’re his best friend, after all, and he doesn’t want to make things weird, but you’re just so pretty.

The rest of the night continues normally, and ends with his head on your lap as you try to finish the movie he insisted on watching over his snores. One of his hands is firmly placed on your thigh, right in front of his face, and although your legs are asleep from the odd position you’re in, you don’t dare move. He looks so peaceful, and for this brief time, you imagine he’s yours, for real.

His mission continues for the next few weeks leading up to Christmas, switching between blatantly asking you to step under the mistletoe, and tricking you into walking under it so he can surprise you.

The time he almost had you was when he called you from your living room, seemingly in a panic. You dropped the glass of water on the kitchen counter and ran towards your living room, dread filling your belly at his tone. You’ve never heard him like that; he’s usually the level headed one in times of stress.

When you ran through the doorway of your kitchen, however, your soft body collided with his hard one, and you let out a gasp as his large hands grab your upper arms to steady you.

“Buck, what are you-” you begin, but he cuts you off with a quiet “ah” as he nods up to the mistletoe that you’re now both standing under.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief, glad that he’s okay, and in that short moment, with your guard let down, you almost do lean up and kiss him. You only stop when you feel one of his fingers move to the underside of your chin, tilting your head up just that little bit further.

You blink rapidly as you turn your head away, letting out an exasperated laugh as you push his chest lightly.

“You’d really fake an emergency for the bit?” you tease, trying to calm your racing heart as you back away.

He shrugs, a smirk on his face. He’s a little disappointed, but he doesn’t let it show.

You think you’re safe when he invites you over to his apartment a couple days before Christmas, claiming to need some help with deciding on which gift Jee-Yun. You’re a little confused when he asks; if he really found a few gifts for her, he’d just give them all to her. You know he’d give her the world if he could.

Nevertheless, you head over, ready to give him some probably-not-needed advice.

Your heart warms when he opens his apartment door and you see at least ten gifts laid out on his kitchen island. As you make your way over to them, you see that a lot of them are a child’s dream, but a parent’s nightmare, and you laugh softly.

“Did you run any of these by Maddie and Chim?” you ask as you tear your eyes from the gifts and look over at him. He smiles sheepishly, shrugging as he grabs the closest box.

“Come on, make your own slime? She would love that! She’s obsessed with slime!” he replies, and you shake your head, laughing at his excitement.

“Well, which one do you think she’ll like the most?” you ask, looking over the rest of the gifts. Bracelet making kit, make your own markers, gemstone dig kit. It’s a lot, but it’s also sweet. You know Jee would like any of these things, and it makes your heart swell knowing that Buck cares so much about his niece.

“She’d like them all so much.” he replies in a huff, sitting down on the island stool. You sigh, walking back over to him and putting your hand on his shoulder.

“Buck, I really don’t know why you’re trying so hard to decide. We both know you’re gonna give her all of them.” you tell him, ducking your head slightly to meet his gaze.

He looks up at you suddenly, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Good. Thanks.” is all he says before he stands up, his inner turmoil suddenly gone from his face as he shoots up from his seat. “Since you’re here, I might as well show you something.”

You furrow your brows in confusion as he begins to lead you to his living room, a hand on the small of your back, but then you huff, stopping in your tracks as you turn to look up at him beside you.

“Stop trying to get me under the mistletoe!” you practically shout, having finally seen the bundle of mistletoe he has hanging from his loft.

“Come on, have you ever been kissed under the mistletoe?” he asks, grabbing your hand and trying to pull you over to it gently. He keeps his eyes on you, walking backwards, but when you don’t budge, he drops your hand, continuing to back up until he’s in place.

“Well, no, but-” you begin, but he’s quick to cut you off, a mischievous look on his face.

“Me either. Don’t you think we should? Just once?” he asks, and you huff, shaking your head as you look away. You want to more than anything, but you can’t imagine the pain you would feel if you were to have to go back to normal after the kiss, have to keep pretending you only like him as a friend.

“Please?” he finally says, his voice much softer than you’ve ever heard it. You feel a little guilty for fighting so hard as you look up into his big, blue eyes and see the pout on his lips. If there’s one thing Buck knows how to do, it’s get his way.

“If I come over there, will you stop?” you ask after a moment, sighing softly in defeat.

He nods quickly, a hopeful smile spreading across his face as you take a step forward.

“I promise.” is all he says before he grabs your hips and pulls you into him. His lips meet yours hungrily, and you feel dizzy as one of his hands cups your jaw, tilting your head up to deepen the kiss.

The kiss is desperate, and passionate, and you can only follow his lead when his tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth and invading your senses as he melts into your plush body.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and before you know it, he has you backed up to the wall, pressing his body into yours as your back hits the wall.

“Buck, I-” you begin, parting from his lips and looking up at him through hooded eyes.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” he murmurs before his lips are back on yours, trying desperately to commit your taste to memory.

You finally relax completely into him, and your knees feel weak as his words sink in. He wants you. You’ve been holding back from kissing him, or letting him touch you, all this time, even though he’s wanted to do it just as badly as you’ve wanted him to.

He leads you up to his room as you continue to give each other sloppy kisses, and when you wake up the next morning, neither of you want to go back to being just friends.

On Christmas, you and Buck go to Bobby and Athena’s for Christmas dinner with the rest of the 118 and their families, but neither of you have told anyone that your relationship has recently changed.

All is revealed, however, when Buck eyes the mistletoe hanging in their living room, and he’s overwhelmed with the urge to get you under it again, to show everyone that you’re his. Finally.

As everyone talks in various small groups around the house, Buck excuses himself from his conversation with Bobby and Hen, situating himself under the mistletoe as he watches you talk to Maddie and Chim about all the gifts Buck had gotten Jee.

He calls you over after a minute, his voice just loud enough for you, and Maddie and Chimney, to hear a few feet away.

When you turn around and see where he is, you roll your eyes, letting out a quiet laugh as you raise a brow.

“Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” you tease as you walk over to him, drink in hand as you wrap your other arm around his shoulders.

“Trust me, this is exactly where I want to be.” he murmurs before he drops his head down to press his lips to yours. This kiss is softer than the first one you shared, more gentle and tame, but it makes your head spin nonetheless.

When you finally pull away, you both stare into each other’s eyes, everyone else in the room gone as you bask in the presence of each other. Buck can hardly contain his happiness. He can’t believe that you’re finally his. Finally, all his flirting had paid off.

You’re so caught up in each other that you don’t hear Maddie’s comment behind you, leaning closer to Chimney to whisper “well, it’s about damn time.”

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[cjlouwho]

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Been getting these guys ready: Five little fics to start off 2025 😘

[veryberryjelly]

almond milk, two sugars

evan buckley x fem!reader

lyric prompt ; 'i pay attention to things that most people ignore' - all american bitch - olivia rodrigo

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ⚜︎ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

your time at the 118 may not have been very long compared to some of the other firefighters tenure, but it had so far been the best six months of your life.

your hours were adaptable, even if you had regularly worked twelve hour shifts every day.

your coworkers were friendly, so much so that any free time you had, you often spent with them.

whether it was going to the gym with eddie, having dinner with hen or grabbing coffee with buck before or after a shift.

and you loved doing all of that with them.

which was why you always hated cancelling plans on them.

but sometimes it was unavoidable.

which was why you had to message buck that you were running late so you couldn't grab coffee this morning.

your phone hadn't charged so you had no alarm to wake you early enough to grab coffee.

but that also meant that you were uncaffeinated as you hurried into the station for the beginning of your shift.

once you arrived and you saw that there was no urgency for you to rush around, you slowed down, put your things in your locker before climbing the stairs to the kitchen to make yourself a coffee.

you greeted those who were sitting on the couch as you made your way over, going straight for the coffee pot.

as you reached for it you noticed a takeout cup beside it with your name scribbled on the top.

your brows furrowed softly as you picked up the cup, expecting it to be trash that you had forgotten to throw away, but when you found it to be full your brows furrowed softly.

thankfully, the questions you hadn't been able to ask yet were answered when you heard a voice behind you.

"i grabbed you a coffee on my way in."

you turned to find buck stood with an identical cup in his hand, presumably filled with his regular order.

" figured you wouldn't have time this morning and i thought i'd spare us all your decaffeinated wrath "

his words caused a laugh to bubble past your lips.

" thank you, i'm sure the entire team is grateful for your generosity" you joked as you took a sip of the coffee, unable to stop the smile spreading over your face when you realised he had gotten your order right.

" and i am very grateful to not have to drink crap. how do you know my order ?" you hadn't been to coffee with buck often enough for him to know your order so well.

" i pay attention to things that most people ignore. " he explained which just made your smile widen .

" well it is very appreciated, thank you. and i promise i'll be ready to meet tomorrow morning "

there was a brief silence as you picked up your coffee and took another sip, but buck quickly broke it.

" how about we meet tonight instead? "

his question caught you off guard and caused a slight tightening in your chest.

" for, like a date ?" you questioned, wanting to clarify the nature of this meet up.

" yeah, for a date "

@sunnyhoneyyyyyy