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lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

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Insatiable. ( Jungkook x OC)

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC! Age difference!!! [ bet you’ve never seen all of this in one fic before? ]

[ Some notes : Born Vampires stop aging when they turn twenty five. Turned vampires stop aging when they’re turned. ]

Summary :

21 year old Hwang Sera is sick of being the only human in an entire clan of vampires. As an immortal human from one of the oldest bloodlines, she is a catch. The Vampire she marries would essentially be indestructible.

Which makes her an easy target for greedy vampires everywhere.

Determined to keep his precious daughter safe, her father hires an old friend , Jeon Jungkook as her full time bodyguard.

Jungkook is 35 years old ( well technically 576 years old ) , father to an adorable five year old kid and he has zero tolerance for Sera and her teenage shenanigans. But , he needs the money and he knows his son would be safe in the Hwang clan’s massive mansion.

And suddenly, after years of despising vampires, all Sera can think about is getting into the gorgeous vampire’s bed and maybe into his heart.

Chapter 1

“He’s so hot.” My sister sighed for the seventeenth time and I glared at her.

“He’s mine. Back the fuck off.” I bared my non existent fangs at her and she retaliated by showing off her own inch long fangs, eyes flashing ruby red in the confines of our huge sprawling bedroom.

The man in question, my sparkling new bodyguard wasn’t here now. He was downstairs at the party, being introduced to the others as the latest addition to our clan.

My mouth watered when I remembered his gorgeous, handsome face. And that body , God.

Sculpted by some higher being who wanted to show off, for sure.

I had never given much thought to losing my virginity. It certainly wasn’t by design that I hadn’t had sex yet but looking at Jeon Jungkook in a fitted black suit, midnight black hair falling into his lovely red eyes and those delicious muscles.....

I kind of believed in fate now.

This was why I’d always been repulsed by the vampires who courted me.

Because Jeon Jungkook had been out there, waiting for me.

And now fate had brought him here and he was going to be mine.

I stumbled over a stray bra, nearly face planting onto the floor .

God, i hated how messy Somi was but I was also eternally grateful that she had skipped out on the party tonight, volunteering to help me with the kids.

I ran a daycare in one of the larger cottages in the estate, keeping the little fanged devils in check while the parents went about their daily lives. On nights like this, when my father hosted guests from every clan in the country for one of his lavish parties, there was always a whole bunch of bite-happy toddlers in need of supervision.

Enter me.

I loved babies. I’d always loved them. They were adorable. And after three years of school , I was finally, officially qualified in caring for them.

Oh and by the way did i tell you that Jungkook had a son? Jeon Joowon was possibly the cutest five year old I’d ever seen and yes I was a little biased but that was okay. I was going to be the kids step mom , after all.

Listen, don’t look at me like that, I just really want to be with Jungkook okay?

I tripped over the same bra when turning back around and I swore.

Focus, Sera. You can day dream about hot vampire daddy later.

“ Why do you have to throw your shit all over the place like this? “ I whined, grabbing the offensive piece of fabric and tossing it at her. She caught is so fast I went a little cross eyed. My sister never missed an opportunity to show off her super-saiyan, vampire powers. That made her a crowd favorite with the toddlers and younglings .

“I still don’t think your choice of a career is smart. These fanged little beasts are impossible to control... ” She commented mildly, watching me stuff two whole cartons of baby wipes into the huge backpack I had propped against the bed. I’d forgotten to restock the day care with wet wipes and it was sheer luck that I had a pair of them lying around my room.

The very idea of entering a room full of babies and toddlers without baby wipes, made me shudder.

“Listen, they’re absolute angels when you listen to what they’re saying. Just because babies can’t talk doesn’t mean they don’t have preferences. All you really need to do is find out what each kid likes and help them feel comfortable -”

“Please stop.” She rolled her eyes and I glared at her.

“I’m a little thirsty. Can i have a sip..” She said softly and I frowned.

“You haven’t drunk from me the entire day. Are you okay?” I held my wrist out.

She shrugged , grabbing my wrist and casually sinking her fangs into the vein . Pain bloomed, familiar and somehow comforting , replaced almost at once by the gentle numbing of her venom. She drank a little and pulled back soon after, linking the puncture wounds for good measure. I watched the skin knit itself together , whole and unmarred in no time.

Perks of being immortal.

The knock on the door made me jump.

“Ms Hwang?” Jungkook’s soft, husky voice came floating through the door and I grinned, cheeks aching with how wide my smile was.

“You look like a maniac. Stop smiling.” My sister looked a little alarmed and I struggled to rearrange my features. Sticking my tongue out at her, I grabbed my sweatshirt, slipping it overhead quickly. I glanced at the mirror, grimacing a bit.

Being with toddlers meant no make up or hair left free.... and so I had a messy top bun, and just lip gloss to look presentable. While the entire party teemed with gorgeous vampires in low cut gowns and blood red lips.

Ugh.

I grabbed the backpack and waved to Somi.

“Come as soon as you can alright?” I begged her and she waved me off.

I rushed to the door, throwing it open and smiling wide.

“Hi oppa.” I said cheerfully.

“I’m not your oppa.” Jungkook said automatically, barely glancing at me and instead reaching for the backpack. He directed me to the stairwell on the side, the one that led straight down to the ground floor and out into the gardens. He went in first and I followed him, climbing down carefully.

I sighed, taking in the mouth watering width of his shoulders, encased in a perfectly fitted jacket. He looked so handsome I wanted to cry. And although he’d been here for a whole week month now, I hadn’t managed to get into his good graces.

“What do I call you, then?” I made to hold his hand when we reached the end of the staircase but he shook my arm off at once.

Did I tell you that he really can’t stand me for some reason?

“As I’ve mentioned a dozen times already, Mr. Jeon would suffice.” He said shortly. He held the door leading out into the gardens open and I walked through.

“That makes you seem so old.” I grimaced, shaking my head and he gave me an amused look.

“I am 576 years old.” He deadpanned. The daycare cottage was just a five minute walk from the mansion and the pathway through the garden was absolutely beautiful, well lit and covered in the brightest flowers.

I waved off his excuse about his age.

“you don’t look a day over twenty five to me.” I said with a shrug. He shook his head, clearly too tired to carry the conversation on. We walked in silence and I felt incredibly content, just with him near.

And he was going to be by my side for the rest of our lives, I thought softly. I would make sure of it. I’d never felt this way about anyone. Jungkook was a good man , evident in literally everything he did. He was kind, an amazing father and such a gentleman that he made me melt.

Jungkook had been turned at the age of 35. And so he sailed through eternity with the gorgeous good looks of a mature , well kept man. His hair was thick, just a slight bit of grey peppering the edges and his features were sharp and well defined.

“Is Joowon in the daycare already?” I asked with a smile and he nodded curtly.

“He has Mr. Pepper with him. He refused to leave him behind. please just make sure he still has him with him when he leaves. He can’t fall asleep without the bunny “ He said softly and I felt my heart bloom ten sizes.

“Of course, I will -”

“Jungkook !!!” The shrill voice broke the stillness of the night like a hammer through a mirror.

I turned around with a frown only to be greeted by the sight of a very pretty, very tall vampire in a blood red bodycon dress and a neckline that plunged all the way to her belly button. She had ruby red lips, and well made eyes. Eyes that now flashed red , dilating as they ran up and down his body.

I felt myself clenching my fists.

“I’m getting late....we need to go, I grabbed his arm trying to tug him along but he didn’t budge. i glanced at his face and felt my heart shatter at the small smile playing around his lips.

“Helena..... Surprise seeing you here....” He drawled, voice so much deeper than usual and I bit my lips. They knew each other?

The vampire had reached us now and she gave me a disdainful smile.

“Who’s this?” She asked with a laugh, “ Are you babysitting now, Jeon?”

I bristled. To my utter chagrin, Jungkook laughed to.

“She’s the kid I’m watching. The Immortal human of the Hwang clan.” He intoned dully.

The lady’s brows went up in surprise.

“:The rumors are true, ....The Hwang clan’s hidden jewel.....with skin like the rarest pearl and eyes that steal souls. Fiercely guarded ...a beauty like no other.... I thought they were exaggerating, but I see they were not. . You’re exquisite.” She commented , seemingly genuine in the compliment as her eyes roved over my features.

“ Um.. thanks?” I shrugged, not particularly flattered by the extravagant description.

The poets in my clan tended to be a bit overdramatic at times.

. She laughed.

“Are you unavailable for the night, then Jeon?” She turned her flashing eyes on him .

My jaw nearly dropped.

Did this bitch really just proposition-

“Afraid so.... Raincheck?” Jungkook smiled wide and he looked so beautiful that I had to bit my lips to stop from moaning.

Helena waved softly, eyes shifting back to me.

“Be safe, little human. When the sun goes down, the ghouls come out to play.” She grinned wide, letting her fangs grow long, past her lower lip, eyes red and bloody.

I stared right back. She laughed and waved before floating away into the night.

Jungkook chuckled.

“You’re not intimidated by us, then.” He said mildly as we began walking again.

“I spent the entirety of my childhood playing with vampires. Do you really think they didn’t spend every waking hour trying to scare me to death?”

He gave me soft smile, and then went back to staring straight ahead.

I relaxed when the familiar cottage came into view, the sound of laughing kids reaching me.

I held my hand out for the backpack and Jungkook gave it to me.

“I’ll just check out the backyard and see if al the gates are secure and then I’ll be right outside the door, alright? Call out if you need me...” He said sharply

“Will you come even if I call you oppa?” I bit my lips, grinning and he flicked my nose.

“Behave.” He said shortly. I sighed.

“I’m not a kid, you know.” I said softly and he gave me a look.

“You are to me. Now get inside.”

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

“There’s a monster behind the tree and I’m Hawkeye because I have the bow and arrow and Jieun is the princess.” Joowon said brightly, showing off the toy bow and arrow in his hand and I grinned, taking in his exquisite features. He looked strikingly like his father , except for the two adorable dimples that showed up everytime he smiled.

“That’s amazing... do you like fighting monsters?” I asked with a grin holding my arms out for him and he hugged me happily.

“Yes, I like fighting monsters and I like Mr. Pepper.” He waved the stuffed bunny in my face.

“Make sure you keep him safe, alright? “ I stroked the soft skin of the

“So what color does your daddy like?” I asked with a grin. I felt a sharp kick on my shin and I turned to my sister.

“Don’t use the fucking kid for your sinful aims, you dingbat!” She hissed and I glared at her.

“I did no such thing...I was just making conversation....” I hissed back.

“Dad likes black.” Joowon answered dutifully and I ruffled his hair. Jieun appeared then, having waited for her prince and gotten bored. She tugged on Joowon’s arm and I let him go, watching the two of them run off.

“Its only been a month, Sera.... I think you should tone down the infatuation. You know dad would never approve.” My sister said gently and I frowned.

“No he won’t, Dad loves me , he wants me to be happy.” I said shortly.

“Yes, but not with Jungkook. He’s a rogue vampire. He doesn’t have a clan. He has a kid ...”

“An angel of a kid...”

“he has a kid whose mother he had to kill because she was a bloodthirsty witch.”

i stared at my sister feeling anger build inside me.

“What does any of that have to do with how I feel about him?” I demanded , moving to stop one of the littles from tripping over a stray rubik’s cube.

“ You’re special. You’re being courted by some of the richest, most powerful vampires in the country and you want to go after the rogue , broke vampire who’s only here because he needs the money and the safety of our clan?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.” I said firmly.

Somi sighed.

“I’m just saying. Don’t be so blatantly open about your feelings. You’ll be putting a target on Jungkook’s back.”

I exhaled sharply.

“If anyone tries to hurt him, they die.” I said softly.

Somi chuckled.

“I know.... but still, he’s not looking for trouble. Don’t bring it to his doorstep.”

I didn’t reply, moving quickly to the other side of the room.

the words left a bitter taste on my tongue.

Mostly because my sister was right.

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

i stared at the tall strapping vampire, trying to comprehend what I was hearing.

“What do you mean he isn’t here for the night?” I demanded.

“He’s a little tired. He told me had a little too much to drink and he wants to sleep it off. I’ll be here instead ... Just for tonight.” He tried to smile reassuringly and I was momentarily distracted by very deep dimples but I could feel myself fuming.

“and he didn’t think of saying that to me himself? He had to run off while i was closing up the cottage?” I glared.

The Vampire chuckled.

“He told me you might protest.”

“Of course i protest, I feel safer with him...” I said sharply.

The Vampire gave me a deep sigh.

“I’ve been doing this for three centuries, Miss Hwang. You’re definitely safe with me.” He bowed his head.

“What’s your name?” I demanded.

“Kim Namjoon.”

“Fine , Kim Namjoon ssi.... Let’s go. “

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

Giving Namjoon the slip was a lot easier than I thought. I waited for him to greet my great uncle, and slipped between two waiters carrying blood cocktails and weaved into the crowd easily.

Jungkook’s bedroom was next to mine and it took me less than a minute to race up the stairs and to his room.

i banged on the door , determined to see for myself just how drunk he’d gotten.

The door opened and i took a deep breath.

“How dare you leave me-”

I froze when I realized that he was shirtless, fresh out of the shower. Water dripped down his torso , like little starbursts of liquid light and my mouth went dry. I swallowed, staring at the tightly packed abs, the dip of his v line as it disappeared into a fluffy white towel.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He growled angrily.

My eyes flew to meet his and then my gaze caught something red on his bed and I peered over his shoulder.

Pain lanced through my heart so sharp that I felt like I’d taken a fucking brick to my chest.

The sight of Helena, naked except for a red bra, stretched out on his bed got burned into my brain and I choked.

“You-” I began but he grabbed my arm, so hard that I knew I would bruise. He yanked me away from the threshold of his room, dragging me to the middle of the hallway as he slammed the door to his room shut.

“Where the fuck is Namjoon?”

“You ditched me to get laid? “ I hissed in disbelief.

“I can’t fucking believe you’re doing this-”

“Is she your girlfriend-”

“Sera-” he shook me again but I refused to back down. I had to know.

“Are you in love with her?!!!” I demanded, my heart breaking .

Jungkook growled.

“It’s none of your damned business!!” He snapped angrily .

“It is !!” I said shrilly.

“Why on earth-”

“Because I’m in love with you!!” I shouted and he froze.

He let go of me like he’d been burned and stepped back, staring at me wide eyed,.

“What did you just say?” He demanded.

“I want you. I want you to court me-”

“Sera stop.” He said sharply

“I’m not joking...I like you and-”

“Shut up.” He growled, his voice shaking.

I swallowed.

“If you say something as asinine as that to me , ever again... I will make you regret it. ” He warned softly.

I felt my heart jerk in panic.

“Jungkook-”

“It’s Mr. Jeon to you!!!” He growled.

I bit my lips, staring at my feet.

“I’m going to pretend this never happened. You’re going to go to your room and wait for Namjoon. If anything like this ever happens again, I’m telling your father.”

I laughed bitterly.

“I’m not fucking twelve years old you son of a bitch. Stop talking to me like I’m your toy or something !” I snarled.

“If you were my toy I would fucking spank you till you cry and lock you in a damn room!” He hissed.

I flinched.

He took a deep shaky breath.

“This never happened.” He said sharply. “ I’m not one of your boytoys. I have no interest in fledgling humans who know nothing about life. That's not the kind of woman I’m looking for. You’re not the kind of woman I’m looking for because you aren’t even a woman yet.”

“ Jungkook !!!” Namjoon’s voice rang through the hallway and I stepped back.

“Have a good night with your whore, Mr. Jeon.” I snapped, before turning on my heel and leaving.

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

Author’s Note : Hot DILF! Vampire Jungkook is hot. This brings back fond memories of me panting after my husband as a nineteen year old brat . I was a devilish teenager smitten with a twenty seven year old man. Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed :D

#jungkook #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fics #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook vampire #jungkook vampire au #jungkook reaction #bts vampire au #bts smut #bts au

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kuroos-babie · 4 years ago

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Falling in Love with a Single Mom HCs

Sakusa x fem!Reader | Kita x fem!Reader | Tendō x fem!Reader

[ Headcanons/MiniFics ]

Request: LOVED YOUR FALLING IN LOVE WITH SINGLE MOM HCS SHAKAKAOXVAIAL MOSTLY BOKUTO’S AHDIWIXBSIAO!! CAN I REQ THEM WITH SAKUSA KITA AND TENDOU?? TYSM 🤩🤩 —anonymous

a/n: once again,,, i love these hcs so much but i feel like omi was kinda ooc im so sorry (╥﹏╥) i hope u like these still!! i really enjoyed writing these, pls do tell me what you think (~￣³￣)~

❀ he's been watching you for a while now— his team's manager

❀ everyone knew you've recently became a new mom— as well as how your child's dad went MIA a few weeks after you gave birth, left a note breaking things off with you and saying he wasn't ready to be a dad

❀ you usually had your mom or a relative take care of your baby while you went to work, but this time no one was available so you had to bring your son with you

❀ standing by the corner of the crowded cafeteria, he kept on glancing at you obviously struggling to pacify your baby

❀ he didn't like the piercing cries of the child in your arms so he decided to help you, or so he convinced himself

❀ in reality, he couldn't take seeing you so panicked anymore— it agitates him so much

❀ he was trying to remember what komori taught him about babies as he walked over to where you stood

"have you tried feeding it?" he asked nonchalantly, standing a good foot away from you as he tried to peer over your shoulder

"him" you replied, exhaustion and frustration dripping from your tone, "and yeah, i just did"

you sighed

"give me"

it wasn't everyday that sakusa offered help so you jumped at the opportunity, supporting your child's neck and back as sakusa took him, doing the same

❀ he laid the baby on his chest, gently tapping at his back

❀ after a few moments he let out a small burp the baby not sakusa skdka

❀ he handed your child back to you, now silently chewing on his hand, saying he "just needed to burp"

❀ your face felt hot, embarrassed that you had no idea

❀ sakusa just placed a hand on your head and smiled behind his mask before leaving, he knows you needed all the help you can get right now and he, albeit wordlessly, made sure you're aware that he's willing to provide that help

❀ since then he regularly drops by your apartment and helps you clean and take care of your baby saying he's just making sure there weren't any germs near the kid

❀ lets you take naps as he watch your kid— but not before taking a bath, he has spare clothes in your closet

❀ the team notices how he's always over at your place

"omi-kun you're always over at y/n's, might as well move in with her"

"if she wants me to, i don't see any problem with it" he said so casually it made you whip your head to his direction

"do you... want to?" he looked away from you without an answer, avoiding your eyes, "omi-kun do you want to move in with us?"

"i said, if you wanted to" he replied, still avoiding your gaze and cheeks tinted red

❀ you met him at the wet market; well, your daughter did

❀ you noticed her run off while you were buying ingredients for your lunch and stocking up your fridge, quickly trying to catch up to her

❀ she was giddily running around, little 3 year old legs not taking her too far before bumping into a stranger's leg

❀ falling to her bum, your daughter looked up to see brown eyes looking down at her

"i'm sorry, are you alright?"

he helped the child up, holding her steady as he dusted off her bottom

by the time you caught up with the both of them, he already had your daughter in his arms, asking her where her mom was with a smile

"there she is!" she said with a giggle

"baby, what did i tell you about running off on your own?" you scolded her with a tired smile as kita handed her over to you, thanking him kindly

❀ after that encounter, he started to notice you more and more; in the wet market, around the neighbourhood, and in the topics of local grannies

❀ you moved in recently, shortly after your daughter's dad bailed out on the both of you, leaving you to raise her alone; or so he's heard

❀ he would always give you a soft smile and an acknowledging nod whenever you two see each other

❀ it wasn't until his grandmother asked him to bring over some vegetables to your house that he had the chance to have an actual conversation with you

"gran wanted you to have this"

"oh thank you very much", you beamed at him while taking the basket, "do you maybe want to come inside? i'll prepare some tea"

he was about to decline the offer, but the joyful look on your child's face the moment she sees kita convinced him to do otherwise

❀ the two of you talked over tea and snacks while your daughter sat on his lap, playing with his large hand

❀ you couldn't help but smile at the both of them, your daughter never one to be this playful with others, kita didn't seem too bothered either

❀ time passed and kita needed to go back home, much to your daughter's dismay

❀ he didn't want to upset your kid too much so it was decided he'll come back soon to play with her

❀ it became a regular thing for kita to stop by your house on his way home from the fields— spending time with you and your daughter slowly becoming routine

❀ he adored your child's little giggles and the way she insisted having him wear the flower crown she made, glancing at you to see you laughing at the sight had him imagining what life would've been like with the two of you

❀ till he realized he was already living that life— looking forward to seeing you both after a hard day of work at the fields, being greeted by warm smiles and a hug, eating dinner together and sharing laughter

❀ it seems like granny wouldn't have to wait too long for a grandchild

❀ he noticed your 2 year old boy looking—staring, at him from across the restaurant he was having lunch at

❀ so of course he decided to make faces in an attempt to make him laugh

❀ he wiggled his eyebrows at the toddler, waving his hands and cooing— though he wasn't sure if the baby even hears him

❀ the boy decided that tendō pulling at his ears and sticking his tongue out was a winner, letting out a short giggle

❀ you had your back to tendō so you were surprised to see your child laughing when you looked up from your meal

❀ turning around to see tendō making the silliest face, you couldn't help but laugh as well, your son finding it absolutely hilarious and is squealing in delight

❀ tendō's face heated up in embarrassment from being caught but he laughed along nonetheless, shaking his head as you waved your son's tiny hands at him and mouthing 'hello'

❀ he thought you two were adorable so he decided to come up to your table

"you babysitting your nephew? or is that your baby brother?"

you chuckled at him, "he's my son"

"oh"

the redhead's brain buffered for a few moments, "i should get going then, don't wanna offend someone" he laughed awkwardly, hand scratching at his nape

"oh no, it's fine. you're not offending anyone" his eyebrows raised at your reply's implication, "mind taking a seat? my baby seem to like you"

"your baby has great taste" tendō smirked as he slid to the seat opposite yours

"so it seems" you said with a tone that sent a blush straight to his cheeks

❀ the afternoon ended with your number saved on tendō's phone under the name cute baby('s) momma🥺

❀ he texts and calls All The Time; asking how your kid is doing and wanting to see the both of you

❀ after a while of talking and going out, you asked him if he wanted to come over to your place for a visit and he was simply ✨ecstatic✨

❀ spent the whole afternoon crawling around your living room chasing your son, squeals and giggles echoing throughout your house

❀ you've never seen your son be this comfortable with anyone that isn't you and you're just grateful that tendō adores your child as much as your child adores him

❀ when tendō walked up to you— your son in his arms, sleeping soundly on his shoulder, you offered to take the child but he refused and opted to pull you close with his free hand

❀ he leaned against the kitchen counter, both you and your son in his arms as you asked him in a whisper, "can you stay?"

❀ understanding what you meant was more than staying for the night, he answered with a definite "for as long as you want to, of course" before pressing a kiss on your temple

taglist: @churochuu @bakarinnie @faithieeee @strawberriimilkshake @paulazockt @pattys-got-cakes @hidden-otaku-stuff @haikyuubabie @shou-kunn @your-local-abyss @stcrryskies

✨send me an ask to be added/removed!✨

#sakusa x reader #kita x reader #satori tendo x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa headcanons #haikyuu sakusa #kita shinsuke #hq tendou #tendou #haikyuu tendou #tendou satori #tendou headcanon #tendou hcs #tendou x reader

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prfctethereal · 3 years ago

Note

Can you write James Potter smut please. Thank you

frosted hearts. | james potter

pairing: single dad!james potter x preschool teacher!reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: NSFW. smut, sub!james, dom!reader, talk of masturbation, talk of punishment, mommy kink, praise kink, tit sucking, thigh riding, slap and degrading kink only for a short amount of time at the end

summary: you are harry’s preschool teacher and one day james is late to picking his son up from school

It was hard to be around screaming toddlers, all day, every day. By the end of your long shifts, your head was blistered by the engraved sound of whining, moaning, and that smacking sound the children make with their lips.

But for the most part, you loved being around kids. Their tenderness brought so much joy to you and you were happy to have become an early childhood teacher. Your workplace was loving, with your fellow teachers continuously supporting you through everything. Even the kids were decently nice.

The age old stigma that kids were devil spawn seemed like the most foreign concept to as you coddled a near sleeping three year old, his warm body curled up to your side. Reading a children’s story to the kids, you felt so much adoration for the children around you, enough to make your cheeks rouge. All of them looked at you with doe eyes as you finished the last page.

“And the princess and the prince fell in love and lived happily ever after.” You closed the book with a soft clap. “The end.”

Looking around, the children beamed, flashing their pearly, toothy smiles towards you. In that moment, you felt at peace, almost content, knowing that you were bringing enjoyment to the kids surrounding you. Gently, you stroked the arm of the nearest child, Harry, as he slowly unraveled from your side.

“Miss?” Harry asked placidly, his tiny fingers down playing with the hem of your skirt. He looked up at you, fluttering his long eyelashes.

“Yes, Harry?” You responded, once you knew that he wasn’t going to speak without permission.

“Do you have a prince?”

At those words, you frowned, your smile disappearing from your face. Admittedly, you have been quite lonely for the past year. Focusing on work has been devastating for your social life. After your messy breakup with your previous partner, you felt like it was unnecessary to rush into another relationship. Quickly enough, those days turned into months, and eventually a year. Your dry spell was becoming quite unbearable.

As the winter months closed in, you wished for more comfort at night. The smoking fireplace could only fill your lonely apartment with so much warmth before you got desperate - needy - for something more. Some nights were spent with your fingers curled up into your cunt, tight from the months of neglect, desperately trying to churn some pleasure out of you, but, there was only so much your own fingers could do. They couldn’t go nearly as deep enough, or stretch you nearly as much as you so deeply desired. You were starting to become flustered just thinking about it.

“No.” Your reply was short, until you realised the kids around you would want a longer explanation. Sighing, you folded your hands in your lap, pursing your lips forward. “I’m not a princess of any sort. Even then, sometimes people don't have someone with them.”

“Just like my Daddy.” Harry babbled unprompted, dawdling away from you to join the midst of his pre-school friends. “He is all alone too.”

You knew Harry’s father, and just the thought of him made you curl your toes in delight. He was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Deep hazel eyes that light up when he laughs. Plump pink lips that frame his mischievous smile. Strong, muscular arms, complimenting his toned hands, that you can imagine wrapped around your neck...

Before you could even process the dubious insult thrown your way, you felt a sprinkling of fingers press lightly against your shoulders, snapping you out of your daze. Furrowing your eyebrows, you traveled your eyeline up, locking eyes with another teacher who worked there, Lily.

She looked absolutely wrecked. You knew she had been on the phone for most of the afternoon, for reasons you didn’t know, but you expected that you were going to be told now, as she beckoned you away from the kids.

“One moment.” You held up your finger, showing the kids an example of counting. As you walked away, you saw the kids out of the corner of your eye. They too had one finger in the air, repeating the same word - “One!” - over and over to each other. It was very cute.

“Roads have been closing because of the weather.” Lily started, her nimble fingers gesturing out of the frosted window panes. She was right; the roads were starting to look pretty bad. A thin layer of snow seemed to be shredding downwards, coating the town like powdered sugar. The sun stayed behind the clouds, not even daring to peek through, keeping the town in a cold flurry, and keeping the children inside. This was going to be a long shift.

“So, we’ll have to stay here longer tonight?” You asked, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. You brought the pads of your index fingers up to the window pane, feeling the chill of the temperature seem into your skin. WIthout realising it, you traced a heart shape into the frost, your own heart sighing as you exhaled.

“Hopefully not.” Lily replied. “I’ve contacted all the parents and have told them to come pick up their kids as soon as possible. This storm seems to not be slowing down any time soon. So, potentially, we might be able to go home early, if the children all get picked up before the snow gets too thick. And, don’t bother coming in tomorrow. The snow’s gonna settle, meaning there will be road closure all across town.”

“Great.” A sarcastic laugh poured from your mouths as you turned back to the kids, who were still being occupied by the thought of having one finger in the air. “We should start getting them ready then.”

You and Lily worked diligently side by side, bundling the kids up in layers of soft clothing, keeping them secure from the storm. The kids joined in too, helping to clean the classroom, picking up litter off of the floor, and clearing off tables. As you sprayed down the surfaces of the tables and kitchen counters, you hummed a soft tune, getting into the rhythm of cleaning.

While you were occupied with cleaning, parents started arriving, greeting their kids with loving smiles and gentle touches. You melted as the kids ran excitedly into their parents arms, wrapping themselves around their mums and dads, wishing to not let go. In those sweet moments, you felt a fleeting pang of loneliness. You longed for your own child, and with that, a loyal husband. You breathed out a sigh, something that was becoming quite regular for you by now.

As more and more parents arrived, you saw the sun trickle behind the horizon. Soon, the night sky appeared, painting the sky in hues of indigo and cerulean. As much as you loved the night, you didn’t love the idea of being stuck here all night, and neither did Lily, who was looking even more restless than you.

Her ginger hair fell across her face, partially blocking her vision as she lethargically signed out the second to last kid. Deep, violet bags were forming under her eyes, her skin borderline white from her exhaustion. It was getting hard to look at.

“Why don’t you just go home?” Your offer made Lily perk her head up. “You look way too tired to even continue standing on two feet.”

“I couldn't do that to you.” Lily yawned, clasping her perfectly manicured hand over her mouth. “And besides, Harry hasn’t been picked up yet. I still have to do my job.”

You looked at her with pity in your eyes. You hadn’t seen her this exhausted in years, and you knew her anxiety was bubbling up as more and more snow fell onto the ground. “Please just go Lily. It’s only Harry; I can monitor him by myself. You need to get home before the snow gets heavier.” Before she could butt in, you continued. “Besides, Harry much prefers me over you.”

Lily laughed, closing you tightly into a friendly hug. “Thank you so much. I’ll get you back another day. Are you sure you’re all good closing up on your own?”

“Go home.” You waved her away dismissively. Lily bounced around and in only five minutes, she had collected herself, and had dashed out the door, leaving only you and Harry in the pre-school.

He was looking quite tired himself, which was understandable. By now, it was nearly eight o’clock at night, a time you knew was well past his bedtime. Harry had curled himself up on one of the naptime beds himself, his raven hair falling over his eyes. Staying by his side, you caressed his back, until he fell into a soft slumber.

You felt lonely again. Harry was asleep and there was nothing left for you to do until Harry’s father arrived to pick him up. You knew a few things about Harry’s father, from the fleeting conversations you had had over the time Harry had been at this school. You knew his name was James, and he looked like heaven. Everytime you glanced his way, you felt yourself grow wet. It probably was a problem, but your secret crush didn’t hurt anyone, so you kept it secret.

Long after it had become dark, you finally saw canary coloured headlights glint in the distance. It was a relatively nice car, something you’d expect a well paid ministry worker, like James, to drive. You watched attentively as the car parked slowly and surely. Then, the car door opened, and you got your first look of James for the day.

He definitely looked a little tired but there was something endearing about it. His fluffy brown hair was slightly disheveled, as if he had run his fingers through it greatly. His round glasses sat low on his nose bridge, with his natural eyes scanning the area. There, he locked eyes with you through the window, the same window you had drawn your pathetic heart on. Right then, James was positioned right in the middle of the heart, condensation like a halo.

Before you knew it, James had opened up the door into the school, realising a sigh of relief when he was hit by the warmth of the classroom. Dramatically, he closed the door behind him, leaning up against the frame, apologies falling from his lips like rain from the sky.

“I’m so sorry I was late. Traffic was crazy. Too many road closures.” James seemed frantic, but the solidarity of the preschool was definitely calming his mood down.

“There’s no need to apologise, Mr Potter. Harry is delightful to look after.”

“Please,” James held out his hand, “call me James.” You intertwined your fingers with hsi, shaking his hand ever so lightly, the same hand you had fantasised about. It was everything you dreamed of.

“I should drive Harry home now.” James broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension, making you want to salivate. You didn’t like the idea of James driving in his state, especially since he looked so tired. If anything, he would need some caffeine in him before the journey.

You reached your hand up, stroking his right cheek with your left hand, concern filling your eyes. “Oh, please James, you look so tired. Let me make you a cup of tea before you journey back home. You look as though you need it.”

James chuckled. “Alright then, just one though. Besides, Harry seems to be having a lovely nap. Wouldn't want to disturbed him now, would we?”

You guided James into the back kitchen through a secret door. Here was your break room where you could have some peace and quiet away from the kids. It was one of your favourite places in the entire school, because even though you loved the kids, sometimes you just needed a place to help you unwind, and unwind you did. Countless times you had fallen asleep back here and had dreamed of James.

“We have Earl Grey. Is that okay?” You looked through your cupboards, eyes locking onto a small red box, tea bags flooding out of it. Personally, you weren’t a big fan of it, that's why there were still so many, but James didn’t seem to mind it.

“Please, sounds lovely, dear.”

You worked in silence, turning the kettle on to boil. Carefully, you dunked a tea bag into a mug, swirling it around in your fingers as you waited for the water to boil. The emptiness of volume was killing; you could’ve heard a pin drop. James was the one to speak up first.

“Harry really likes you. He talks about you often.”

“Oh really?” You chuckled in disbelief, facing away from James, fiddling with some lint of your sweater.

“Yes. Sometimes, he even calls you Mum. I’m happy that he has a mother figure like you to look after him.” You chuckled when hearing James’ words, which confused him. “Why are you laughing?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You said, reaching for the kettle. “He’s just not the only one to have called me Mommy before.”

James furrowed his brows, even more confused. “You have kids of your own?”

“Not quite.” You swung your head around, throwing James a cheeky grin. That’s when he understood what you meant. He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, his pants seeming just a bit tighter than before. It was definitely hotter in the room.

“What normally happens when people call you that?” James asked, testing the waters. As you stood to move around, the chair scraped against the wooden floors, alerting you of his prowling presence.

When he was a mere inch away from you, you smirked once again. “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?” You weren’t sure where this rush of confidence was coming from but you both seemed to not want to slow down.

Consciously, James raised his hand to your cheek, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. His soft hands lingered a little too long, before his eyes flickered downwards towards your lips. You knew what he wanted, but you never took him for the shy type. Something about this made you aroused. Needing relief desperately, you lunged forwards, connecting your lips to his.

It was everything you thought it would be. Hungry, passionate, skilled. Your lips melded perfectly together with his, as his lips sucked gently on your top lip. Yearning for something more, you moved your hands down to his ass, giving James an experimental squeeze. Just like how you wanted, he gasped, giving you the perfect entrance to insert your tongue into his ready mouth. He moaned, his lips vibrating against you.

“Show your Mommy how much you need her.” You pulled away, whispering those words at the shell of his ear. You could hear James whimper in front of you, positioning himself so he was straddling one of your thighs, as you were pushed up against the counter tops.

James’ fingers worked at the hem of your sweater. Eager to remove as many clothes as possible from you, he tugged at the edge, slow whimpers escaping his pretty mouth, as you tilted your head down to his neck, aching to leave soft love bites on his skin.

He was getting needier and more submissive by the minute, but to you, he was acting like a brat. “That’s not how we ask for something we want, is it baby? Use your words.”

“Please Mommy, may I take your sweater off?”

With a curt nod, you obliged, watching James’ eyes light up in fascination. Quickly, he pulled your sweater over your head, glad to see that your thin shir had stuck to the material of your sweater, leaving you in just a bra on top. His eyes were transfixed by the way your nipples were hard on your pert breasts, sticking out from your bra.

“Can I take your bra off please, Mommy?” James’ hands had already made their way around your torso, preparing for the inevitable.

“Yes love, good boy for asking.” You felt James grow harder against your thigh as you praised him, a thought that made you smirk in delight and what could be in store.

Like you were made of glass, James slipped the bra off of your shoulders, dragging it slowly off of your arms. You knew he wasn’t teasing on purpose, as it seemed that he was distracted by the sight of your tits, but you needed relief anyway, bucking your thigh up against his crotch as encouragement. “They’re all yours.”

Delighted, James leaned in, his whole mouth engulfing your nipple. With vigour, he bagan sucking, the pleasure of it going straight down into your core. You moaned loudly, something you learned that egged James on. Greedily, he started rubbing his hands down your side, eager to feel all of your skin. You didn’t mind though, as you were lost in your own moment.

“Good- good boy.” You stuttered out as James’ mouth left the centre of the nipple, beginning to suck small bruises into the side of your boob. Normally, you would punish him - well, anyone - for doing that without permission, but you didn’t care at that moment.

Content with his handiwork, James moved onto your next nipple, ready to give you the same amount of pleasure as last time. As he worked your nipple to a bright scarlet like the last one, you noticed a curious movement with his hips. Looking down, you saw James, rutting his hips into you, humping your thigh as if he was a bitch in heat. You moaned at the sight.

“You like that, huh? You like,” - you jolted your thigh upwards - “Mommy’s thigh?”

“Mmm, so good.” James mumbled against your tit. You knew he was close to coming, but you weren’t quite done with him yet. Pulling him away from your body, you looked into his eyes to see a hurt expression, something you didn’t like seeing. Luckily, it wasn’t going to last long.

“If you can make Mommy cum from your tongue, then I’ll let you cum on my thigh, alright?” With an excited nod of his head, James immediately sunk to his knees, diving his head underneath your skirt. His fingers worked quickly, stretching the fabric of your panties to the side so he had the best access possible. When you heard a muffled “Oops” against your thigh, you could tell that your panties had snapped from James’ force, but you didn’t mind. He made up for it by being so damn skilled.

He dove in nearly straight away, his tongue licking straight up the lips of your cunt, lapping at it as if it was his first ever meal. The end of his tongue teased the entrance to your velvet walls, pressing in ever so slightly and pulling away, creating tension and frustration for you. But it felt so good.

“Feels so good, darling. Doing so good, my good boy. My good, good boy.” You knew he was spurred on by praise, so you gave him what he needed. Threading your fingers in his hair, you held him down slightly, taking the tiniest amount of control back.

When he began sucking at your clit, that's when you really felt the tide going out. It was ebbing at your senses, the only indication being your shaking body and the mewling whimpers coming from your mouth. This only encouraged James further to topple you over the edge.

Slowly, James brought his fingers up to your cunt, teasing your entrance with his finger. Then, he slipped it inside of you, feeling the way you clenched around his finger. You were so tight that James dreamed of how you would feel around his cock, these thoughts going straight to his straining dick in his pants. He needed relief, so he worked faster, inserting another finger and pumping faster.

You were so close by now. The combined stimulation of James’ lips suctioning at your clit and his fingers working in and out of you was too much. With one last hard suck, you felt your orgaasm wash over you like a tsunami. You could hardly hold yourself up, and that was evident by the way you toppled to your side. The only reason you didn’t hit the floor was because of James’ lightning fast reflexes, keeping you upright.

“Did I do good, Mommy?” James asked, his shiny eyes looking up at you with adoration, his lips glistening with your cum. You smiled sweetly down at him, stroking his cheek with your hand, until you pulled it back and gave him a harsh slap across his face.

“It was so good baby, but I thought I said only using your tongue?” James had the look of realisation on his face, but you kept going. “Naughty boys who don’t follow rules have to be punished, and I don't think you want to get put in the Naughty Corner, do you?”

James whimpered, but it sounded like he was enjoying the degradation. A smile spread across your face.

“Oh so you do? Good boy.”

#James potter #James Potter x reader #James Potter fluff #marauders era #marauders #harry potter

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years ago

Text

@damianwayneweek 6 (6-18): Baby Damian | Family bonding | First crush

Warnings: none

Notes: Short, sweet, barely edited cuz it's 1am. Please enjoy some de-aged Damian and frazzled Dick. Yes I'm back on my Damian and Dick bullshit. I just love them so much.

-o-o-o-o-

Three days, according to Zatanna. The magic that hit Damian isn't permanent, and should wear off on its own within three days.

Dick already doesn't know what to do with himself. He was hardly prepared to take over and raise a ten year old, let alone a toddler.

But here he is, sitting in the manor living room watching as a small version of his already little brother toddles around on chubby baby legs. He can't be more than two. He can walk around on his own well enough—though Alfred did block off all of the stairs in the manor anyways—and every so often he'll point at something and say... Something that sounds like a demand.

Dick wasn't really ever good with understanding baby gibberish. It doesn't help that Damian seems to have reverted in memories as well... so the things he's demanding probably aren't in English as it's not his first language.

Damian wobbles up to Dick, holding out a toy train that Alfred dug out from the attic that used to belong to Bruce. Dick takes it and thanks him, but Damian pays him no mind and returns to his toys, babbling about something only he understands.

It's so weird seeing him like this. All small, chubby, soft, and bright eyed. Dick doesn't know everything Damian has gone through... growing up in the League... and as much as Dick dislikes Talia, he knows she was the best mom she could be to him. She's raised him to be a smart, strong young man, and taught him to be able to protect himself in his dangerous surroundings... and of course Dick has known Damian long enough to have gotten through his walls and see the wonderful boy underneath, but as he watches this toddler squeal as another toy train turns on and runs on its own...

He cannot help but mourn the child Damian could have been. Should have been if every child in the world had the privilege of growing up in a safe home and no worries besides homework.

He shakes his head. He cannot think like that. Whatever child Damian could have grown into if he hadn't been raised by the League is still in there. Just a bit harder to bring out. Dick can feel himself getting closer every day.

Damian notices him shaking his head and makes a curious ah sound. He walks over to Dick, lifting his arms, and Dick assumes he wants to be lifted. He smiles at the kid and grabs him under the armpits and lifts him into the air perhaps a bit quicker than what he was expecting. The kid screeches as Dick lifts him over head and let's go for just a moment to catch him and bring him back down to his face.

Damian scowls a familiar scowl and hits Dick on the nose with his stubby little fingers.

"Bah," he scolds, and a laugh bursts from Dick's throat.

Yup, Damian is still in there.

-o-o-o-o-

"I'm beginning to understand why B adopted all of us when we were already in elementary," Dick complains as baby Damian screams in his wooden high chair—yet another thing dug up from the attic that probably belonged to Bruce.

Alfred hands Dick a rag with a smirk. The thrown bowl of mac-and-cheese is all over Dick's shirt.

"Master Bruce always had a tenderness for infants," Alfred replies as he uses another rag to wipe off the still screaming and complaining Damian. "He always found joy in finding whatever excuse he could to hold and play with a baby. We used to go to a church when he was still a child himself, and there was a woman there without a husband who would always bring her infant. He would always offer to hold the child for her during the sessions to give her a break."

There's a twinkle in his eye when he looks over at Dick. "I imagine that if this had happened to you, or your other siblings, when he was still around, he would have loved every second of it. Food throwing, tantrums, and all."

Dick can't help but smile. He looks over at Damian who's now kicking his legs and waving his now clean hands in a fit. "Still, I wonder what's making him so mad."

"He might not like the taste," Alfred says, "or the texture. Perhaps some experimentation is due."

After some expiration and a lot of screaming through baby lungs that couldn't possibly hold that much air, they find that Damian really likes tomato soup, apple sauce, and broccoli.

-o-o-o-o-

"Master Dick," Alfred speaks up on the first evening while they were showing Damian Pooh's Heffalump Movie. Dick was relaxing and watching the movie, trying to remember if he's seen this one or not, while Damian was on the floor playing with an old kitten stuffed animal.

"Yeah?" Dick asks. He looks over at Alfred, only to see Alfred raise an eyebrow down at Damian. Dick follows his look, then his stomach drops when he finds that under the recently shopped for infant clothes, is a full looking diaper.

Dick looks back up at Alfred.

"Please, god, no."

Alfred drops a diaper, a bag of wipes, and a cloth into Dick's hands. "Good luck, sir."

-o-o-o-o-

Dick's about to lose his mind. He did everything Alfred told him to. He read a bedtime story—Where the Wild Things Are, as it was Dick's personal favorite as a child. He made sure his diaper was clean. He turned on some white noise. He even gave him Zitka. Yet, everything he did, Damian would scream and sob in his borrowed crib until Dick picked him up and started to sing the lullabies sung to him as a child. He sings the ones from his own native language, and even though there's no way Damian understands Romani, the kid calms down and reduces to exhausted little hiccups and almost seems to fall asleep with his little fingers curled in Dick's shirt.

And the second Dick puts him down, the crying rekindles.

Dick doesn't know what to do. Damian cries and cries until he's held and sung to, but Dick can't hold and sing to him all night. He paces Damian's room, bouncing the aforementioned kid-turned-infant in his arms, mumbling tunes to whatever lullaby decides to leave his lips.

Alfred told him he has permission to wake him up if he needed anything with Damian through the night, but Dick can't bring himself to. Alfred already works so hard during the day and night, keeping the manor in shape and making sure Dick doesn't get himself killed during patrol... He shouldn't have to be relied on to take care of a grumpy baby that won't go to sleep.

No, no Dick can handle this. Damian is calm when he's held and sung to, so that's what Dick will do. He walks to the cradle and pulls out Zitka, then goes to his own bedroom to sit on his bed and holds Damian close to his chest, singing and bouncing him gently.

Eventually, Damian goes completely still against his chest, snoring slightly, but Dick's too fearful to risk anything now. He stops singing though, resorting to simply holding Damian and trying to keep his own eyes open.

He fails, but he wakes up in the morning with Damian laying on his chest, still fast asleep and drooling all over his shirt.

Dick doesn't look a gift-horse in the mouth. He shifts into a better position, then allows them both to sleep in a little longer.

-o-o-o-o-

Alfred discovers the problem quickly when Dick tells him how hard it was to get Damian to sleep. Turns out, Damian's teething. By noon, Alfred had returned from the closest grocery store with a few tools to help with that. He puts a few water filled plastics into the fridge, then gives Damian one to chew on in the meantime. And chew on it, Damian does. He gets slobber everywhere, but at least he's no longer so upset, especially once a cold one is exchanged into his grubby little hands.

-o-o-o-o-

"That's absolutely adorable," Barbara says over the phone. Dick's just finished sending her a massive amount of pictures he's taken of Damian after taking him outside to play in the backyard with the dogs. He's sent her the pictures mostly because he needs people to see how cute Damian is while trying to tackle a dog twice the size of him... but also partly because he gets the feeling once Damian's back to his normal age, he will make sure all evidence of this is destroyed.

Barbara is someone Dick's sure can keep pictures hidden in a safe place... just in case Dick wants to see them again after lying to Damian he deleted them.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick's beginning to understand why people like babies. Like, they're cute, yes. The sounds they make are cute sometimes too. The things they find funny are usually very goofy and enjoyable to watch. Their laughs are contagious, and their babbles are enjoyable to try and decipher...

But nothing beats watching them sleep, curled up against your chest. Full trust in you that you'll keep them safe. It's nap time, and instead of trying to peel Damian off from him and put him in the crib, he's decided to just let the kid pass out in his arms and use the opportunity to take a nap himself.

Apparently it's bad to always let babies sleep with you, but Damian's not going to be this small forever. Might as well enjoy holding him like this in pure peace while he can.

-o-o-o-o-

It seems Zatanna was generous with her prediction, as he wakes up with his breath being knocked out of him. Damian, his rightful age and dressed in his full Robin uniform, scrambles off of Dick's chest. It's all knees and elbows, and Dick's left rubbing his ribs as Damian pats his body, as if making sure he's really a 10 year old boy and not an infant.

"Good to have you back," Dick grunts, rubbing his eyes and holding back a grin.

Damian whirls on him and points an accusing finger. "I don't remember what all happened," he hisses, "but you will delete any photos immediately."

Dick bursts into laughter, grabbing Damians pointed hand and tugging him into a proper hug. Damian squawks just a little, but relents when Dick squeezes him tighter than what he would to an infant. Yes. This feels right. Baby Damian was cute and cuddly, but he really missed the prickly attitude of this rascal.

"Okay," he says, releasing his charge. "I'll delete the photos, after we tell Alfred you're back and you've changed out of the suit."

Damian huffs and nods. "That was horrible."

"I don't know, I thought it was fun," Dick teases. Damian glares at him and Dick grins back.

Yeah, he missed his kid.

#damianwayneweek2021 #damian wayne #robin #dick grayson #Nightwing #dc comics #jin writes #fanfiction

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mha-platonic-yanderes · 4 years ago

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Settling In: Elder Sister

Inspired by @i-cant-sing and their Yandere Todoroki Family series

There isn't a clock in your room. There is a bathroom but no clock. You don’t have a phone, but there is a laptop still on the desk. You could look at the time on there, but your curiosity isn’t worth getting out of this bed. The bed itself is absolutely massive, dwarfing you on all sides. You can stretch out and be nowhere near any of the edges. It’s the most comfortable bed you’ve ever slept upon. Knowing what time it is isn’t as important as the comfort this bed provides.

It’s early morning and the sun is just starting to rise. You know that much. Looking out of the window, you see the golden yellow sun illuminating the sky, pushing out the dark, depressing night sky.

It’s a new day, one filled with potential and hope. You aren’t immediately put off by living here. Sure, nothing will replace your parents, but Rei and Enji aren’t bad. They seem to be strict, but so was your last couple of homes. This is an upgrade, truly.

You can hear your door unlock. You turn to it, seeing Rei in the entrance. For a brief moment, you see a golden object much like the sun you were just staring at. Though, you blame it on a trick of the light. The door wasn’t locked; you didn’t lock the door last night.

“Ah, [Y/N].” A shocked expression quickly melts into the warm smile she gave you all of yesterday, “You’re up already. Don’t tell me you’ve been up all night!”

“Oh no.” You move to sit on the side of the bed. Though you had the ability to, you didn’t put the canopy part of your princess bed down. It’s a little babyish for your taste, though you’d never admit it, “I haven’t been up long. The sunrise was really pretty this morning.”

“I know; I saw.” Rei grabs your hands, helping you up and towards your closet, “Maybe I’ll wake you up earlier and we can watch it together.”

“Alright.” It’s your new favorite response. It’s perfect for situations you agree with, but have no other words to say on the matter.

Rei lets go of your hands and you let them fall to the sides of your pale pink nightgown. You didn’t really like this when Rei bought it, but you never said anything. You’ll try to stay in their good graces as long as possible.

“Now, let’s pick you out something to wear today while we go over house rules.”

She does exactly what she says she’s going to do. You appreciate her honesty, even if the clothes aren’t your style and the rule list is something you’ll probably not remember. She’s honest, unlike prior caretakers.

You’re handed a white sweater with bubblegum pink hearts on the elbows. They’re about as big as your fist, with the heart’s point pointing towards your wrists. With how it’s made, you can’t see the hearts. They’re for other people to look at. That’s the epitome of your new wardrobe. You don’t mind it too much.

The matching skirt is pink and pleated, not unlike the cheer skirts the cheerleaders at your old school wore. The white stockings ruin the cheerleader image, but they keep you warm. Every room Rei steps into turns cold. Every room Enji steps into becomes hot. You don’t imagine that Enji is here much, being the number one hero. But Rei is here, possibly all of the time. You’ll need to keep warm around her. Shoes are forgone. You’re probably not leaving the house today.

She leads you towards the vanity. The warm lights are flipped on and you look at yourself in the mirror. Wordlessly, she does your hair. You look yourself in the mirror. This is similar to how your peers used to play with dolls. She does your hair and dresses you up without allowing your input. At least she doesn’t make you stay silent. You’ve already had a home like that.

“Umm… Rei?” You ask tentatively, “What are we going to be doing today?”

“My other daughter is coming around.” Rei replies, smiling at you through the mirror, “She comes around, once a week or so, to check in on me.”

You smile back at her, looking away from yourself and at her reflection, “Alright.”

Rei helps you up out of the vanity’s stool. She leads you to another room. This one is wall to wall windows, near the center of the complex. Waiting there is a conservatively dressed adult, with mid-length, almost completely white hair. Red splotches break through the strands of snowfall colored hair. You’d think it would be a bad dye job, but the family pictures on the wall show a younger her, with the same red splotched, white hair. You like her hair. It’s interesting.

“Mom.” The adult woman pulls Rei in for a hug. When they untangle, she waves at you, “Y/N, right? Call me Fuyumi. Nice to meet you.”

She’s inherited her mother’s smile and cool air radiates from her. Fuyumi looks very much like her mother, except for the bright blue eyes Enji drilled into your soul yesterday. They’re kinder, softer. She doesn’t make you instantly uneasy, like he does.

“Uhh, hi.” You wave back, “Nice to meet you too.”

Rei grabs your arm. Her icy fingers drag you to another soft seat—this time, being this room’s light grey, almost white couch. You wouldn’t want to stain or ruin this. It’s way too nice. Fuyumi sits in an adjacent chair. It looks almost identical to the couch and contrasts with her dark jeans. Rei wears dresses

“I’ll start breakfast.” Rei comments, “Will you be staying for breakfast, Fuyumi?”

“Do you need help?” Fuyumi stands back up almost immediately, “I thought you all would’ve already had breakfast. We could help! You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

Rei laughs lightly, “Oh Fuyumi, you worry too much. As long as you two stay out of the kitchen, I’ll be fine. And besides, you two should get to know each other. I’m sure you’ll love Y/N. It’s impossible not to.”

“Alright…” Fuyumi responds, “If you say so.”

Wordlessly, Rei leaves and Fuyumi sits back down. The sun’s well in the sky now. You can see it through any of the countless windows. This would look cooler, when the weather wasn’t so nice. Though, the sunlight warms the room slightly.

“So... Y/N. How was your first night?” Fuyumi turns to you, smiling once again. Her worried expression with Rei has all but melted away. You don’t know why she’d be so worried about the adult, she seems extremely capable. Maybe it’s age? Or it’s because of something you don’t know about, yet? Anyways, it’s not your place to add.

“Alright.” You decide on answering the question and not asking your own, “I got to watch the sunrise.”

“I did too, back at my place.” Fuyumi comments, “though, it’s not as nice in the city, as it is out here.”

The Todoroki residence is on a massive plot of land. Nothing else is here for miles. If you squint, you could see bits and pieces of Mustafu off in the distance. But nothing is in walking distance, certainly. They almost have you in the middle of nowhere. It’s scenic, that's for sure.

“I like your outfit. It looks adorable.” You fight to scrunch up your nose at the compliment. Adorable. Images of toddlers fill your head. That’s not what you wanted. Though, it’s out of your control anyways, as Rei picked out your outfit this morning.

“Thanks.” Y/N chooses to reply with acceptance and push the conversation forward, “I like your outfit too.”

“You’re too kind.” Fuyumi asks, “So… tell me about you? What do you do for fun.”

You answer her question, only mentioning things that you’ve been able to do this past year. You don’t talk about things you did with your parents. Those are firmly in the past now. They’re dead and the things you did alongside them are too.

Fuyumi never pushes an issue too long and she tries to keep the conversation interesting. You appreciate it. There is never a moment you feel unsafe or insecure. Other homes haven’t been this pleasant. Sure, Enji unnerves you and being dressed like a doll is weird, but everything else is alright. You’re able to overlook it—especially if the rest of your new siblings are like Fuyumi.

#yandere todoroki clan #yandere todoroki family #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere #platonic yandere #slowburn tbh #yandere rei todoroki #yandere fuyumi todoroki #bnha #mha #rei todoroki #reader insert #y/n #fuyumi todoroki

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akaashigiri · 4 years ago

Text

Sleepy Jaegers

summary: eren and y/n are at a gathering at armin’s place, and their 2 year old is exhausted. eren is equally as exhausted.

pairing: dad!eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 1.69k

warnings: none, fluffff

a/n: sigh my baby fever possessed me to write this 💔 might make armin a father as well if people end up liking this one (i will anyway) 😋

These gatherings were almost like a ritual to the group.

There wasn’t ever a specific place they met, they would always gather in different places, wether it’d be the beach, a park, or at one of their homes. It didn’t matter where it took place, just as long as everyone was there. Everyone was obligated to come.

So of course that includes the littlest Jaeger.

It was mid September, and although the weather wasn’t bad at all, some didn’t really feel like going out to public places like the local park, so the group decided on Armin’s new place, since Sasha and Annie still have yet to see it (their homes are farther from the rest)

They were all gathered in the spacious living room; Jean and Sasha on the long couch, while Mikasa and Armin sat on the smaller one. Historia and Ymir shared the beige-colored chair in the corner of the room, while Annie sat on one of the kitchen stools as she watched Y/N and Connie do the dishes (Armin insisted, but the two almost threatened him if he were to touch a dish).

As soon as Eren walked in, he all but restricted anyone from sitting on the big beige reclining sofa, claiming that he deserved it for helping Armin pick it out. Eren was grateful for going to Ikea that day with Armin to pick out the sofa he was now slouched on, recliner out and all. It was now his favorite spot in the whole house (besides the kitchen, since he loved playing around with the smart refrigerator).

As Y/N passed another dish for Connie to rinse and dry, she suddenly felt a tug on her pants, looking down to meet the tired eyes of her daughter.

She was quick to rinse and dry her hands to pick her up, giving all of her attention to the little girl. “Aw, what’s wrong Mimi? Everything alright?” She asked, already noticing the fatigue on her face.

She only snuggled into her mother’s neck, giving her the simple response of, “Tired.” Her vocabulary was fairly short, due to the fact that she was only 2 and learned her words from the ones around her (Eren got in big trouble the day Y/N heard the word ‘shit’ come out of her daughter’s mouth).

Y/N wasn’t surprised she got tired easily today, since Jean gave her more candy then Y/N would usually allow. And with the way her, Ymir, and Mikasa were running around in the yard earlier today, Y/N already saw this coming.

“You’re tired?” she asked again, earning a nod from the crook of her neck. “Okay, mommy’s almost done. Go sit next to daddy until I finish, okay?” She tells her, moving her head back to face her daughter again. Myra nodded, allowing her mother to put her down.

Walking tiredly, Myra slowly moved through the kitchen and made her way to the living room, spotting her father laidback in the corner of the room, limbs sprawled out on the sofa.

Eren wasn’t sure if it was the father instincts, but he was the first to notice her presence in the room, stopping the ghost story Jean swears is real to bring his full attention to his daughter.

“Mimi’s come to save us, everyone!” Eren exclaims, throwing jazz hands up as everyone joined and cheered her on for simply walking in. Jean didn’t like what Eren was implying, but clapped nonetheless.

“You’re not funny. Aren’t dads supposed to tell good jokes?” He questioned, attempting to steal a fry from Sasha’s plate, but failing miserably as she only swats his hand away.

“No Jean, I think it’s the other way around, they’re supposed to be corny.” Armin butts in, watching with a smile as Myra finally starts walking towards her father.

Eren could already see the fatigue on her face, holding his arms out for her once she got a little closer. “What’s up Mimi, you tired?” Eren questioned, laughing as she instead of answering, simply lifted her arms up for him to take her.

She responds with a nod, her hair falling over her face as she was lifted onto his lap. As soon as she was situated, she wasted no time in making herself comfortable, wiggling out of her dad’s grasp and laying her stomach down on his, her head right above where his heart was.

“Nevermind.” he sighs, making the whole room burst out into laughter. This only made Myra whine, the loudness distrupting her attempt at sleeping. “Sorry Myra!” Sasha whispered, finally giving a fry to Jean afterwards.

“I wonder what got her so tired.” Annie questions, making Jean sink into the couch out of guilt as Eren sends him an irritated glance.

“Jean went and gave her a sugar rush before we got here. It was absolute hell.” Eren’s eyes furrow in frustration as he remembers earlier today and how hard it was for him to catch a nap without his energetic 2 year old jumping all over him. All while Jean was happily eating lunch with his wife.

“Okay, but I didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to have that much candy! Kids eat candy like crazy, right?” He attempts to defend himself, looking around the room for support, only to be met with silence.

“Yeah, thing is she’s not a kid! She’s a toddler! Dumbass.” he mumbles the last part, hoping that Y/N somehow wouldn’t hear. But she always found a way how.

“Can someone please slap Eren for me?” She yells from the kitchen. “Stop cursing in front of Myra!”

Eren has no time to defend himself as volunteers step up to do what their friend asked, but Mikasa was the quickest, and Eren was even quicker. He swiftly grabs Myra’s frog blanket from the bag sat beside him and hids his face in it, saving it from the harsh blow of Mikasa’s hand.

“You’re lucky I didn’t miss completely, I just don’t wanna wake Myra.” she confesses, walking back to her seat.

“God, I cant believe we almost named her after you.” Eren groaned, blanket still clutched in hand.

“Mimi’s close enough for me.” She smiles, noticing the way Myra starts to squirm a bit. “Throw the blanket over her, I think she’s cold.” She suggests, bringing Eren’s attention back to the little girl on his chest.

Eren is quick to unravel the rather big blanket from his grasp and take it in both hands to bring it in the air, watching it fall perfectly onto her small figure. The blanket basically covered his whole torso, the end tickling his neck a bit.

“Thanks again for the blanket, Historia. She loves it so much, a little too much.” he says, feeling his daughter move under the blanket so that her little arms were wrapped around his torso as far as she could go. “She won’t use the one I got her anymore.” he says with a slight frown.

The group laughs again, but quietly this time, not wanting the little girl to possibly wake up in a fit.

“I wouldn’t blame her, to be honest.” Jean shrugs, giving Eren a knowing glance, as well as a sly smirk. He knows how mad Y/N would get if he were to disobey her, especially a few minutes after she scolded him. Since Y/N was only a few feet away, Eren aggresively sticks his middle finger up to the man. It’s not like Myra could see through the blanket anyway.

“Are you gonna finish your ghost story, Jean?” Annie asked, although she didn’t believe a word. She just wants to see him make a fool out of himself.

Jeans eyes light up, snapping his fingers together as he sits upstraight again, ready to go into full detail once again. “Right! Okay, okay, so right when I went to shave my beard...”

Eren let’s Jean’s apparent ghost encounter story fade in the background, focusing on the shallow breaths coming from his daughter. He felt himself getting a little drowsy himself, as if her sleepiness was seeping into him.

He doesn’t waste time lifting the blanket a bit to wrap a protective arm around her small figure under it, adjusting his posture on the sofa and crossing his ankles over one another. His let his neck sink into the back of the couch, letting his head go as well so he facing the ceiling. With the warmth of the blanket and the little girl under it, he couldn’t help but close his drowsy eyes as well, finally giving in.

A few minutes pass and Jean is done telling his story, but of course, no one believes him. All except Historia. “Thank you, Historia! See I’m telling the truth. Morons.” Jean rolls his eyes at the way Armin and Sasha curl up as they laughed, Mikasa and Annie trying their best to hold in theirs.

Jean soon notices the person who would’ve regurlarly had the most to say was being awfully quiet. Getting ready to scold him for not listening, Jean is met with a site he has to admit, is the cutest thing he’s seen all year.

Eren was deep in slumber, soft snores coming from him and the little girl that rested as peacefully as he did on top of him. The print of his arm around her could be seen through the green blanket, as well as both of their steady breaths. They looked so comfortable, it would be a pain for them to get up soon, which they would have to eventually.

“Awww, they’re adorable!!” Historia exclaims from the other side of the room, which seemed to catch Y/N’s attention all the way from the kitchen.

“What’s happening? Is something cute happening? Someone take pictures!” She exclaimed, wanting to abandon the plates and take them herself, but thinks that would be rather rude to leave poor connie alone.

“On it!” Sasha and Jean say in unison. Both are quick to pull out their phones, Jean getting the more unappealing angles, while Sasha actually put some effort into it and snapped a few photos.

These were being sent to every single person on her contact list.

this was written at like 2 am sorry if there are typos i swear i reread 💔

also i’m currently working on a mob fic idk if ppl still like those but i most definitely do so watch out for that one :p

hope y’all liked this one lol

-aysha <3

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years ago

Text

A Soft Heart, A Sweet Soul

A/N: Honestly couldn’t tell you where this came from. It started off as an idea of Kieran coming to Arthur and reader for advice on how to talk to Mary-Beth because I absolutely adore Kieran and Mary-Beth but then it ended up turning into some camp shenanigans and well.... this happened??? This takes place at Horseshoe Overlook.

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff and camp shenanigans

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Kieran comes to you and Arthur for dating advice.

**gif isnt mine**

“What’re ya workin’ on?”

You tore your eyes away from the article of clothing in your hands to watch Arthur. He pulled up a chair just across from you and took out a cigarette.

“Just patching up some clothes. A fella I know likes to go around gettin’ into bar fights and scraps with a whole bunch of wild animals. He’s too hard on his clothes.”

He grunted as he lit the cigarette and leaned back in his seat.

“I ain’t that hard on clothes.”

“I have to patch somethin’ of yours every other day.” You teased, a grin coming to your lips.

He swatted a hand playfully at you, shaking his head.

“I don’t believe it.”

“What’s this from, Arthur?” You held the shirt you were currently working on up to show him the hole in the front of the shirt.

“That one wasn’t even my fault.” Arthur paused for a moment to look around camp, searching for someone. His eyes landed on Charles, who was brushing down Taima at the hitching posts. “That man over there started a fight in Valentine! Didn’t ya, Charles?”

“Charles would do no such thing.” You looked over at Charles, who wore a faint grin but didn’t look in your direction. “You didn’t start that fight, did you?”

“I didn’t start it, but I did finish it.”

“See, Arthur? He’s too nice.”

“Nice my ass.” Arthur muttered with the cigarette between his lips. “Anyways, the fella I was fightin’ tried to stab me but he wasn’t too good with a knife. Only caught the shirt.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll let that one pass since you did a terrible job at blaming Charles for causing it.” You nodded softly, biting your bottom lip to try to hide a grin.

“Them pants that you have over your lap have a busted out knee.”

“Yeah, I noticed when I was tryin’ to wash them. What did you do?”

“I, uh, I tripped.” Arthur tried to cough to hide what he was saying but just as he spoke Javier was passing by behind him.

“You what?”

“Shut up, Javier. This don’t involve you.” Arthur waved Javier off but Javier wasn’t giving up so easily.

“No, no, it does now.” He put one hand on the back of Arthur’s chair. “What happened, Arthur?”

Arthur grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I tripped goin’ down a hill when I was out.” He shook his head, holding the cigarette between his index and middle finger. “The hills over there in the Grizzlies East are steep. Hosea had me out huntin’ and didn’t warn me that it was so steep. And the rocks were loose under my boots and it all happened so fast-,”

“Poor baby.” You frowned, trying your best to not laugh. Javier didn’t shy away from laughing at him though as he moved away from you, throwing his head back and holding his stomach. The other few people around you, including Charles, Karen, and Hosea, also laughed.

“Yeah, yeah.” Arthur took a drag from the cigarette. “Laugh at me and my clumsiness.”

You reached over to pat his knee

A comfortable silence seemed to fall over camp. It was rare and peaceful. It was one of those evenings where little was happening. The sun was going down behind the trees and many of the lamps around camp were starting to be turned on.

Arthur was home before dark for once, which you were thankful for. You rarely got to spend time with him before it was time for bed. It was nice to be able to sit with him, even if you had little chores to do while you sat there.

“Thank you for doin’ that for me, pumpkin.” Arthur spoke, keeping his voice low so only you could hear him. He leaned forward in his chair, flicking his cigarette down onto the ground and then stepping on to it. Then he moved his chair a little closer to you so that if he wanted to, he could lean forward and kiss you.

“You’re very welcome, darlin’. You know it’s my pleasure.” You flashed him a smile. “I always love hearin’ all these stories about how you tear up your clothes on your adventures. It’s very amusing knowin’ you’re just like a giant clumsy toddler.”

“Are you gonna give me a hard time all night?” He raised a brow at you, a teasing glint flashing in his brilliant blue eyes.

“Oh, you know that’s my favorite thing to do.” You looked down at the shirt to watch where you were pushing the needle through. “If I didn’t give you a hard time, who else would?”

“There’s plenty of people to give me a hard time ‘round here.”

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Arthur’s attention. He turned his head to see Kieran making his way towards you two. Arthur let out a small sigh and leaned back in his chair, a little irritated that the peaceful moment between you and him had been interrupted.

“M’sorry to-to bother you, Mr. Morgan, Ms. Y/L/N. I-I just wanna talk to you for-for a minute, Arthur.” Kieran stopped a few feet away from your chairs.

“Me?” Arthur raised his brows, eyes widening slightly. “Why? You got somethin’ planned, O’Driscoll?”

“Arthur!” You scolded him, reaching over and smacking his arm.

“Ow!”

“I-I’m sorry to bother y’all.” Kieran turned to walk away, shaking his head.

“Kieran, don’t let Arthur’s bad manners scare you away.” You glared at Arthur before bringing your attention to Kieran. “Is it something I could help you with?”

Arthur ran a hand over his face, knowing very well you’d get after him later for his behavior.

Kieran didn’t say anything at first. He nervously messed with his hands and looked off to the side.

You followed his gaze, eyes landing on Mary-Beth.

“I-I just…. M’not too sure how to, uh, to talk to her, is all.” He spoke quietly. He looked back to you. “I thought maybe since y’all seem like such a nice couple that you might have some good advice you could give. I just don’t-don’t wanna mess nothin’ up.”

“Oh, that’s sweet of you, Kieran.” You smiled, then gestured to the empty chair sitting across the table from you. “Have a seat with us.”

Arthur opened his mouthed to object but decided at the last minute to not say anything about Kieran joining you both at the table.

“Just ‘cause we seem like a nice couple, don’t mean we are.” Arthur shook his head, motioning to you with his thumb. “She’s meaner than hell.”

“I’m the one sewing the holes you leave behind in your clothes, Mr. Morgan.” You reminded him, a little smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “Once they’re patched up, I’ll sell your clothes in Valentine. Make a decent penny, and buy myself something nice.”

“That’s a damn good idea.” Arthur chuckled, rubbing his scruffy jaw.

“Now shut up and listen so we can help the kid out.” You put the clothes in your lap on to the table so you could give Kieran your full attention. “Have you tried talking to her at all yet, Kieran?”

Just as Kieran was about to answer, Sean came over to the table.

“Why do you lot look so dead? Swear there’s more life in a cemetery.”

Your eyes met Arthur’s and he let out a sigh, knowing he’d have to be the one to make the sacrifice and draw Sean away.

“Hey, Sean?” He stood to his feet. “Come with me a second, buddy.”

“Sure thing, Arthur!”

“Have you tried talking to her, Kieran?” You repeated your question.

“Yeah, a little.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But it seems…. It-It just don’t feel like it’s goin’ nowhere. It feels like I-Ikeep messin’ up. I just don’t know what to say and-and it’s hard talkin’ to pretty girls. I-I get all nervous and stumble all over my words.”

“Just remember that she’s a person too. It’s okay to be nervous and to mess up with your words. She’s a really sweet girl, Kieran. She won’t think anything of it as long as you’re nice.”

“You think so?”

You nodded your head.

“You should’ve seen Arthur when he and I first started talking.” Your eyes found Arthur. He’d taken Sean across camp and distracted him with something. “He’s not the big brute he likes to make everyone think he is. He’s a sweet man with a big heart. The first time he ever took me out somewhere, he spilt whiskey all over me.”

“Did he really?” Kieran chuckled. “And-And you still talked to him after that?”

“Of course I did. It was an accident. He’s never done anything to hurt me.” You brought your attention back to Kieran. “You’re a good kid, Kieran. All of us here can see that. I’m positive Mary-Beth can see it too.”

“I hope so.” Kieran turned his head to look in her direction. “She’s really nice, Y/N.”

“She is a sweet girl.” You agreed.

“Thank you for talkin’ with me, Y/N.”

“Anytime, Kieran.” You gave him a smile and watched him leave.

You went back to working on Arthur’s clothes. A little while later, Arthur returned to his seat.

“That kid needs an off button.” He muttered, glancing over to Sean. “How did talkin’ with Kieran go?”

“Good.” You looked up at Arthur through your lashes. “I told him about how you spilt whiskey on me that time you took me to that dusty old saloon in Montana.”

Arthur groaned.

“Now why would you do that?”

“Because it made him feel better about being so nervous around Mary-Beth.”

Arthur fell silent for a few moments, his eyes finding Kieran and Mary-Beth. The two were sitting near each other chatting quietly. You looked over your shoulder to see what he was looking at.

“You think they’d be good together? You don’t think he’d….?”

“You’ve got to stop calling him an O’Driscoll, Arthur.” You looked at Arthur then back down to his clothes. “He’s one of us. He saved your life, you know.”

“I know.” Arthur let out a heavy breath. “Just…. Just don’t like it.”

“He’s not like them.” You finished the last stitch on the shirt and tied it off. “You can see it in his eyes, and in the way he interacts with everyone around here. He’s sweet. He just didn’t have the right start at life. Didn’t have the right people around him.”

“Sounds like you’re gettin’ soft on him.”

You rolled your eyes and threw the shirt at Arthur, hitting him in the face with it.

“You can be such a horse’s ass sometimes, Arthur Morgan.” You stood up and started to move away from the table but Arthur’s hand caught your wrist.

“I’m just teasin’ you, Y/N.” He put the shirt on the table and then tugged you over to stand between his knees. “Just don’t understand why you’re so keen on helpin’ him. You’re never this nice.”

“I am a very nice person.” You looked down at him, bringing your hands up to cup either side of his face. Your thumb brushed along his cheekbones.

On his right cheek, there was a faint white line that cut just an inch or so beneath his eye. You focused on that for a few moments.

“I know a fella that a lot of people think is hard and mean.” You whispered. “Many people wouldn’t think that he likes it when I brush my fingers through his hair at night. Or that when he can’t sleep, he likes to put his head in my lap and listen to me read.”

You were thankful that the sun had finally gone down all the way and that most of the gang was gathered around two of the fires on the other side of camp. They wouldn’t be able to interrupt or witness your moment with Arthur, who very rarely liked any sort of public displays of affection. The ones who did witness it were Mrs. Grimshaw, who had been doing her mother hen rounds to check and make sure everything was in line, and John, who was keeping patrol just outside of camp. Grimshaw pretended to not see anything as she kept walking, humming to herself with a cigarette between her fingers. John smiled a little. It made him happy that someone made Arthur so soft.

“Who is this fella?” Arthur asked, his voice low and a little raspy. His eyes shut for a moment as you leaned forward to kiss his brow. He settled his hands around your hips, just holding you where you stood between his legs. “Might have to fight him.”

“Silly man.” You giggled softly, running your fingers back through his hair. “I’m a good judge of character, Arthur. Have a little faith in me.”

You started to step away from him. As your touch left him, his hand found yours and he stood up so he could pull you into his arms.

“I have faith in you. It’s the O’Driscoll I don’t trust.”

“I’m gonna start keeping count of every time you call him that and there’s gonna be consequences.” You squeezed Arthur’s fingers.

“What kinda consequences?” A grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Ones you won’t like.” You pulled your hand from his and looked around camp.

Mary-Beth was sitting on her bedroll reading by a lamp. Kieran was brushing down his horse just outside of camp.

“I’m not saying you have to be friends with him, Arthur.” You turned your attention to him as he stood from his chair. “Just stop callin’ him an O’Driscoll.”

He let out a rather exaggerated sigh and ran a hand over his face.

“If it makes you happy-,”

“It would make me very happy.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at you. You innocently smiled.

“You drive me crazy, woman.” He put his arm around you and started to guide you towards your shared tent.

“You know you wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Of course not.” He kissed your cheek. “I like the crazy.”

“Did Charles really start that fight in Valentine?”

Taglist: @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl

If you’d like to be on my taglist, please go here! If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader fluff #arthur morgan fluff #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 arthur morgan #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fic #rdr2 fic #red dead redemption fic #red dead redemption 2 fic #queenxxxsupreme #oneshot #fluff

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theweasleysredhair · 4 years ago

Text

Slipping Through My Fingers [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 3396

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: A series of snapshot memories through the years between Fred and his daughter. [Based on Slipping Through My Fingers by ABBA].

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @valwritesx @hufflrpuffforfred @cappsikle @kiwi-sloan @potter-redheads @pigwidgexn @twinkyjohnson @sarcasticallywitty15 @tyyyweasley @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @wonderful-writer @marauders-loving-queen @vogueweasley @marvelettesassemble @thisismynerdyself @gcdric @loony-loopy-lupinn @gloryekaterina @tinylumpiaa @locke-writes @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whiz-bangs78 @oh-for-merlins-sake @heavenlymidnight @aylinw3asley @vivianweasley | message or send an ask to be removed! unfortunately, my taglist is closed until further notice due to hitting the max. amount allowed on one post!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: this is a fred x reader but focuses more on fred w your daughter bc i’m a simp for dad fred pls help

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

If you asked him, Fred would say his happiest day was the day he married you. Watching you walk up the aisle in your white dress, pretty smile on your face, was a sight engrained into Fred’s memory forever.

He was irrevocably in love with you, this he knew, and that day just made him fall for you even more - his heart had beat so fast when he saw you walking towards him, looking like an angel.

He didn’t think his life could get any better.

That was until the day he held his little baby girl in his arms for the first time. He felt an overwhelming feeling of adoration for the tiny infant whose whole hand could only just clasp around his finger. This little baby who depended on him so fully, his little bundle of joy wrapped in a pastel purple blanket, knitted by Molly.

He was wrapped around her finger from day one. She was a complete daddy’s girl, only settling to sleep when in her father’s arms, immediately stopping crying when being held by him. Often, he’d fall asleep with his baby girl laying on his chest, his hand holding her in place as she snuggled into his sweater.

He’d take her to his shop, holding her as he spoke to customers, whilst he served them at the tills, enjoying when they asked him questions about her - about his beautiful little baby who could barely open her eyes yet, but who owned his heart completely.

By the time she was a few months old, Fred insisted they were best friends, spending as much time as he could with her, looking after her whilst you went back to work. He was almost besotted - she was his soft spot, possibly the only person besides you who could get him to do whatever they wanted.

“Say dada! Come on, Evie! Say dada! Dada!” Fred stood in front of his little girl, who was sat in her high chair, giggling at the funny faces he was pulling at her.

She’d been making sounds for the last couple of weeks and you were both sure she was going to start speaking soon - something you were both excited about. Fred was determined that her first word would be dada, her being so fond of him and all, and couldn’t wait until she finally said it.

“Ba!” The baby announced excitedly, kicking her little legs in the chair. Fred grinned at her, “Yes darling, ba! But please say dada! Dada!”

At the silence, he sighed, “Fine, what about mama? Can you say mama?”

“Mmm?” The baby pursed her lips and blew a spit bubble at him.

“Are you trying to get her to speak again?”

Fred looked up at George, who entered the kitchen, and sighed again, “She’s gonna do it! I swear! She’ll say dada!”

George stepped into the baby’s eyeline and she began squirming in her seat, letting out a loud, happy squeal and banging on the tray in front of her.

She tried to point at the younger twin, who grinned at his niece and poked her cheek, making her giggle, “Hello darling! Someone’s happy to see me, aren’t they?”

She opened her mouth and Fred held his breath, hoping she would speak, before shaking his head fondly as she simply hiccuped, uninterested in saying anything at all.

“These things take time, she’ll say it eventually, you can’t rush it,” George reminded his twin, who leant against the fridge, not taking his eyes off the baby.

“I know,” he glanced up at George, “I just... I can’t for her to say-“

“Dada!”

Fred’s eyes widened, George nearly dropping the glass he’d gotten down from the cupboard.

“Did she just-“

“She did! My baby girl said- Oh Evie, my amazing, beautiful, smart little girl!” Fred lifted her from the chair and cradled her into his arms, “Did you say ‘Dada’?”

“Dada!” She cheered again.

“Y/n is gonna kill you for getting her to speak whilst she’s not here,” George said, amused.

But the words didn’t register to Fred, who was too busy lifting the baby up into the air and back down again as she squealed.

As she started getting closer to being able to walk, Fred made it his mission to baby-proof your home, ensuring she couldn’t hurt herself on anything. She was currently shuffling everywhere on her bottom, with the occasional attempt at holding the couch to help her stand up.

Every time she did this, you both encouraged her to try and move towards you, most of the time receiving blank stares or the occasional laugh.

This time, however, your little girl seemed more determined to move around by herself.

“Come on, come to dada!” Fred called to her with a reassuring smile. He glanced over at you, winking before his attention settled back on his daughter.

“Dada!” The infant babbled, grinning at Fred, who was crouching with his arms out around a metre distance away. Her wide eyes beamed at him as she let go of the couch and made a couple of wobbly steps towards Fred, her own little arms reaching out for him, before losing her balance and falling onto her bottom just in front of her dad.

“Evie, princess! Did my clever little girl just walk?” He cooed, clapping his hands together as the baby smiled at him. He scooped his daughter up and she clapped her little fists together copying his previous actions, before letting out a giggle - Fred swore he’d never heard something so adorable.

“You’re so smart, aren’t you baby girl?” You smiled, taking the baby as she held her arms out to you.

“Mama!”

Once she mastered walking, you found that you couldn’t get her to sit still for anything. A ball of energy just like her father, she happily ran around the place all day, especially enjoying when Fred would take her into work with him.

“We need to leave, come on Evie!” Fred held out her coat, watching as she crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head, “No! Don’ wanna!”

Fred sat beside her, “We’re going to daddy’s work though! Don’t you want to come?”

Her resolve relaxed a little as she raised her eyebrows, staring up at him, “Daddy wor’?”

“Yes princess, daddy’s work. And if you’re good, we could get you some ice cream before we go?”

She immediately stopped pouting, peering up at him through her dark lashes in excitement, and bouncing around in her seat, “Ice ‘eam?”

“Yes, ice cream!” Fred agreed, “Should we go?”

She nodded immediately and stood up, allowing him to put her shoes and coat on whilst she happily babbled out a story to him.

She grabbed his hand as they walked to Diagon Alley, stopping off for ice cream as promised, before she noticed the familiar orange building in the distance and suddenly let go of his hand, darting off through a couple of crowds of people.

“Wait, Evie, come back!” Fred called out, dodging people, running after his toddler, who was surprisingly fast when she wanted to be.

She ran through the doors of the joke shop and found George quickly, the latter busy restocking some shelves near the entrance, a box in his hands. At the sound of the door opening, he looked over and smiled softly at the little girl who had entered.

“Unca Geowge, I got ice ‘eam!” She announced happily to him, holding out the ice cream cone to him and ignoring the fact that ice cream was now running down her fist.

“Oh Merlin, you’ve got ice cream?” He faked his shock before noticing it was everywhere but in the actual cone, “Well you’ve definitely got it all over you haven’t you, darling?” He left the stock where it was, placing the box he was holding on the floor, grabbing the handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and crouching down to wipe her hands and cheeks.

“There we go, much better,” George nodded at her and she offered him a toothy grin.

“Tank you, Unca Geowge.”

He laughed as he watched an out-of-breath Fred nearly fall through the shop door, “No problem, sweetheart.”

“What did I say about running off, Evie?” Fred scolded her, though thankful that she had found the way to George without getting lost - he didn’t want to have to explain that he lost your daughter to you.

The little girl turned to her dad and dropped her head, pouting, “No’ to dwo it.”

Fred lifted her up and went to tell her off again, but stopped as he looked in her eyes, his face softening, “It’s okay baby, just don’t do it again, alright?”

She nodded, “I won’t.” Then, she turned away in his arms and dropped her ice cream cone onto the floor, before looking back up at her dad innocently, “I done wiv ice ‘eam now.”

“Evie,” he sighed, before placing her down on the floor and letting her run off towards George, who hid a laugh as Fred cleaned up the floor.

“You know what Mum would say,” George grinned, watching his brother pick up the cone and drop it into the bin beside the till counter.

Fred opened his mouth to answer, when suddenly there was a loud crash and the twins turned to where the noise came from, a stand of vials having fallen over.

Evie’s mouth was open as she pointed to the vials rolling across the floor, “Oopsie!”

“Karma,” Fred groaned, before moving off to clean up again after his daughter.

Wrapped around her finger, you always said. He’d do anything and everything his little girl asked of him, never being able to tell her ‘no’ without going back on his word once he saw her trembling bottom lip or puppy eyes.

You kicked off your heels as you entered your home, glad to finally be back after a long day.

“Hello?” You called out, rifling through the post that had been left on the table. You frowned when you didn’t receive a response, but the sound of giggling came from upstairs and you dropped the letters back where they were, going off to find your husband and daughter.

“What’s going on here?” You asked as you pushed the door to Evie’s room open, placing your bag down in the hallway and entering in. Fred looked up, and you stifled a laugh, noticing that your little girl had roped him into letting her do his makeup - if the lipstick on the cheeks and bright blue eyeshadow were anything to go by - a pink feather boa hanging round his neck, along with some costume jewellery clip-on earrings, a tiara and, your favourite, a way-too-small hot pink tutu around his waist as he sat at the little table in her room.

“Can’t you see, mummy?” Your daughter blinked up at you pointedly, “We’re having a tea party! I made daddy into a princess like in the stories you read to me!”

“He makes a very pretty princess, doesn’t he sweetie?” You grinned at Fred - who winked dramatically at you - before pressing a kiss to your daughter’s head as she nodded in agreement with you.

“Tea, daddy?” She asked, lifting her teapot and pouring her ‘tea’ into his cup without waiting for his answer. He raised the cup to his lips and stuck his pinky out, showing off the plastic rings he was also wearing.

“Delicious,” he confirmed as he placed the cup back down.

After spending nearly all their time together, Fred found it extremely difficult to say goodbye to his daughter on her first day at Hogwarts, not wanting to part from his little girl who he adored so much.

You walked along the platform, reminiscing about your own Hogwarts days, and hoping your daughter would make just as many happy memories as you watched families say goodbye to each other and friends reunite. Fred was holding her trunk, and she clutched your hand tightly.

“I’m scared,” you daughter admitted to you, looking around at all the Hogwarts students running around, laughing and boarding the train.

You lifted up the hand you were holding and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, “You’re going to be just fine, baby. You’re gonna have an amazing time, and probably won’t even want to come home!”

She laughed, “I’ll always come home, Mum.”

You pulled her into a hug, “We’re only an owl away, you know that.” Evie nodded, “I know.”

“Gonna miss you sweetheart. Who am I supposed to prank your Mum with now? I’ve lost my partner in crime!” Fred grinned, laughing as Evie ran into his arms.

“You’ve got Uncle George,” she nodded over to where said younger twin was stood, saying goodbye to his eldest.

“Don’t tell him, but I prefer you.”

Evie giggled, before grabbing her trunk from Fred and bidding you both goodbye. She took a few steps towards the train, before turning back around, dropping her trunk and running back over to you, giving you another hug, before moving back into her dad’s arms.

“I love you both so much,” she mumbled, before heading to re-pick her trunk up.

“We love you too, princess,” Fred replied, watching as she headed towards the train. She settled into a compartment after a minute or so, and waved at you both through the window. You waved back, offering her a reassuring smile.

“Is it too late to have another one?” Fred joked, his hand snaking around your waist and sliding into your back pocket.

You slapped his arm playfully and let out a laugh, shaking your head at him. You watched the train leave, smiling sadly and waving again, before glancing at him, “What are we gonna do with an empty house?”

Fred winked as you began to head off the platform, “Oh I have a few ideas in mind.”

The goodbyes didn’t get easier each year, but the time apart was helped by the letters Evie sent to you, always keeping in touch where she could. You kept each of her letters, reading them when you missed her most.

Her latest letter held news you’d been waiting for since you’d sent her off, rushing to write her back as soon as you’d received it, and before Fred got home from work to help with the response.

“Did you read her letter? She’s going on a date!” He called through to you in the kitchen. The shock in his voice amused you, though you were expecting some kind of resistance to this new development in your daughter’s life.

“I know!” You replied cheerfully, stirring the food on the stove, “The boy sounds so lovely!”

“Y/n, love, I don’t think you understand,” Fred frowned as he entered the kitchen, heading over to press a kiss to your lips before continuing, “Our baby girl is going on a date with some pathetic thirteen year old boy. I was a thirteen year old boy once! I know how they think!”

“He sounds really nice! And Evie seems to really like him,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed another kiss to his lips, one he returned immediately, “Besides, you asked me on a date when we were thirteen, look how we’ve ended up!”

“That’s different.”

“How is that any different?” You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to stir the food again.

Fred pouted, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and leaning his chin on your shoulder, “Because that’s my baby girl.”

“Your baby girl who is going on her first date. It’s exciting!” You insisted, “And anyway, I may or may not have already written back to her saying you approve...”

Fred’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping comically, “You did what?!”

Fred was always going to be apprehensive about any boy Evie mentioned she was dating - you assumed that much - and the day she came home for Christmas, completely upset, did not help this matter.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Fred growled, his first clenching as he thought about the no-good boyfriend - well, ex boyfriend - of his little girl, who had thought it was a good idea to break up with her just before Christmas.

“Fred, no-“

“I’m gonna kill him with my bare hands.”

“Fred-“ You tried to calm him down, knowing that though his anger was justified, it wouldn’t make Evie feel any better.

“Look at our little girl! Look what he did to her!” His face softened as he glanced into the living room at his daughter, who was curled up in the corner of the sofa, eyes closed, tears staining her cheeks.

“Look, I’m angry too. But what she needs right now is a lot of chocolate, cuddles, and her parents’ support. She doesn’t need you yelling about the boy, okay?” You looked at him pointedly, waiting for him to nod at you. When he does, you smile at him and gesture towards the teen girl, “Go see if you can cheer her up, eh?”

“It’s what I’m best at.”

Eventually, much to yours and Fred’s delight, Evie found a man she ended up falling for completely after she graduated from Hogwarts.

He was kind, smart, definitely charming, and you took a liking to him immediately. Fred took a little while longer, however he eventually admitted he really liked the guy, and loved how happy he made Evie.

The day he came to you both asking for Evie’s hand in marriage, you agreed without hesitation, and when your daughter came to you to show you her ring, you’d screamed in happiness and starting talking weddings immediately, bringing out catalogues and deciding on a dress together.

“You’ll do my hair and makeup, right Mum?” She had asked.

“Of course I will baby!”

You sat her on your bed on the morning of the wedding, humming as you twirled her hair into an intricate style and applied her last minute makeup touches.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” you whispered, pressing your lips together as a few tears escaped your eyes.

She leaned over and wiped the tears away, pulling you into a hug, “Thank you, Mum.”

She stayed with you whilst you got yourself ready, laughing about old memories, and talking about the future, about memories you were yet to make.

You’d just finished getting dressed when Fred knocked on the door, bringing in your daughter’s wedding dress that Molly had been so kind as to alter for her.

He placed the dress down on the bed carefully, turning to look you up and down and whistling as you shook your head at him, before he turned to Evie, who was smiling up at him.

“When did my baby girl get so gorgeous, huh?” He grinned, leaning down to hug her.

She returned the hug with a laugh, “Dad, come on, stop it! You’re gonna make me cry, and Mum just finished helping me do my makeup.”

“I can’t help it. I look at you and I still see my little girl. But you’re all grown up now, I guess you’re not so little, huh?”

Evie smiled, pulling away from the hug to look at him, “I’ll always be your little girl, Dad.”

You finally ushered Fred out as you helped your daughter into her dress, adding last minute touches where needed.

“Where did the time go, eh?” You asked her, looking at her in the mirror, “I feel like you were a baby just yesterday.”

She smiled at your reflection, “Time flies when you’re having fun, right?”

When Fred saw his daughter in her wedding dress, he swallowed, feeling how he did when he had to say goodbye to her on Platform 9 3/4 every year - it was bittersweet, knowing she was leaving, but also just knowing she was going off to live her life, and make her own happy memories, made it all worth it.

“Ready to give me away?”

And as he looked down at his daughter, her excitement evident and barely fighting the grin that spread from ear to ear, he swallowed and couldn’t help but smile back at her.

He nodded, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He felt her cling onto his arm and smiled to himself softly.

No matter what, no matter where life took her, she would always be his little girl.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

Text

Learning to Swim

Request: (whenever you have time of course.) What about a post-war draco malfoy x reader where after astoria dies draco and scorpius are left alone for a couple years then he sees y/n a friend from Hogwarts and they fall in love again (you can decide how). this is my vision and I'm a sucker for post-war fics with draco. 🥺💕 - @obx-beach

A/N: I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO MUCH. Thank you so much for requesting it and for trusting me with your request! It got away from me but I really wanted to explore this idea in depth because for me, anyway, grief isn't something that disappears over time, but rather, becomes bearable. Please read the warnings before reading, I cover some heavy topics. As always, I hope you like it!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: heavy talk of grief and loss, some swearing, mentions of food, alcohol consumption, mentions of ghosts, a very cheesy ending.

Word count: 11.9k

Draco so rarely finds peace nowadays; a consequence of a confidently walking toddler who’s penchant for curiosity has him grabbing at what he can – the paper, the rug, the dog’s tail.

Draco so rarely find peace nowadays, but once a week, on a Saturday, he drops Scorpius off at his parents. His mother and father doting over the blonde-haired boy who looks more like his mother everyday despite the argument from Narcissa – “He has your nose, Draco!”

On the days he drops his son off at the manor, he apparates to the familiar black gates. They squeak whenever he opens them and no matter how many times he visits, he never remembers to bring the oil he promises to fetch.

Now, he doesn’t look at the names as he makes his way towards the familiar row, hands in his pockets, shoes sinking in the wet grass.

Before, he’d drag his feet. Reading every name he could as he struggled to come to terms with his disbelief and grief.

The granite headstone sits prettily above its plot; the marker for Draco to slow his pace to an amble.

She had died a Malfoy but had been buried in the Greengrass plot.

Draco had known of Astoria Greengrass for years; had been schooled with her sister but had known the family personally for years due to similar social circles, and as a result, social functions. Draco spent ball after ball getting to know the younger Greengrass sister much to the chagrin of Pansy Parkinson who still held a candle for Draco since their fling ended in Fifth Year.

He worked up the nerve to ask Astoria to dinner after a particularly hellish function where his father had pushed him to dance with every available girl that looked his way. For the most part, Draco accepted – wanting to keep his father happy and his mother hopeful. But through every dance, through every twirl on the floor, his eyes would wander back to where Astoria sat very intently focused on the napkin design.

On his third circuit of the dancefloor, Draco broke away from his dance partner earning a glare for his disrespect. He apologised with a smile but turned to the brunette sitting alone; he held his hand to her, and she took it with the grace of a well-raised daughter.

They span around the dancefloor; circle after circle after circle. They laughed, and they smiled, and they settled into a happy silence. One Draco felt so comfortable in that by the time they had finished their second dance together, Draco was certain he wanted to marry her.

By the end of the night, Astoria knew she wanted to marry him.

They were married less than six months after that night.

Three months after they were married, Astoria announced her pregnancy. Rumours started; stating that was the real cause for their quick wedding. But their families knew different; their families spent the entirety of the pregnancy wrapped in a cocoon of worry.

Then blood curse on the Greengrass family meant that Astoria would die at a young age, and Draco had prepared himself for that. Though, in private, he researched what he could to see if he could break the blood curse. This meant, however, the pregnancy was watched closely by Narcissa, by Daphne, and by multiple Healers flooed in from St Mungos.

Nine months later, on an unusually warm day in January, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was born. Immediately, Draco knew that though he had his hair, Scorpius had his mother’s eyes and mouth.

Three hours after the birth of her son; as she held him tightly in her arms, watching him with the love only a mother could know, Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass took her last breath.

-----------

The months after her death, Draco barely coped. He woke up in the mornings solely for Scorpius and Scorpius alone. He devoted his time to his son, marking every milestone in his baby scrapbook which on occasion he would take to his wife’s grave and go through it with her. Scorpius never visited the grave; for starters, he was too young, Draco wouldn’t let his son go through that but his son knew that his mother was no longer with them.

But that didn’t stop Scorpius asking for his mother after a nightmare had pulled him from sleep.

Narcissa tried to help; tried everything she could to help with his grief – at one point even suggesting he go see a psychic, but the fear of transference was enough to put Draco off the idea.

He didn’t have the heart to tell his mother that he didn’t need a psychic to tell him Astoria had made it to the other side and that she had found peace.

She haunted him nearly every night.

Flashes of her white night gown in the corner of his eye; glimpses of her beautiful face in the mirror.

His heart would race, and his palms would sweat as the panic set in.

For a long while, he believed himself to be going insane. The sheer grief he felt at the loss of his wife driving him to madness as though he were Heathcliff suffering the loss of his Cathy.

------

Draco had memorised the inscription on her headstone after visiting for a month straight.

He had memorised the path to her grave by the end of the first week; the soil still needing to settle.

His feet knew where the uneven ground would be, so it was all dodged expertly.

Draco has very little to say to Astoria when he kneels in front of her. He updates her on Scorpius; promises that he will bring him soon, but it was still too early for his son to see his mother.

In fact, most of his time at the grave is spent in silence. His knees soaking wet from the morning dew still covering the grass.

“Draco? Is that you?” A chiming voice asks as Draco’s head remains bent over his wife’s grave. He releases a sigh before looking up to see that it’s you – someone he hasn’t seen in years. The last he saw of you; you were stood defiantly facing the hordes of Death Eaters in courtyard at Hogwarts.

“(Y/N)?” He asks.

You frown, pointing towards the grave where his wife lies in perpetual sleep, “I heard, but I didn’t believe. I’m sorry for your loss, Draco.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “Why are you here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You hold the flowers in your hand up in response, “I lost my grandfather less than a year back. I visit every week.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. He was a great man.” Draco murmurs, shame washing over him from his curt tone.

“Thank you,” You murmur quietly, “It’s still hard.”

Draco wants to offer words of comfort; to tell you that pain eases over time, but he would be lying to your face. The pain doesn’t ease, and the grief doesn’t lessen, it simply moves to one side and becomes bearable until something reminds you of the one you’ve lost whether it be a sound or a smell and then the pain washes over you like a tidal wave and you start to wonder whether you’ll come up for air or simply drown.

Draco decides not to say anything; turning back to face the woman he had pledged his life too.

You walk away after a slow nod; you wouldn’t get anything more out of him now.

-----

They say that time heals, that grief lessens, but it doesn’t.

Draco loves his son; he adores his son, but he cannot help but see him as a reminder of what he lost on the day of his birth.

He had gained a son; an heir to carry on the Malfoy name but he had lost the love of his life.

Draco leaves the graveyard soon after his encounter with you; feeling surly with how he had spoken to you.

He searches you before he leaves, but he finds you knelt at the grave of your grandfather with your head bent as the silent sobs rack your body.

He leaves you to your privacy; understanding that right now, intrusion is the last thing needed.

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

Draco sits in the living room of his marital home that night; a tumbler of whisky in his hand as he leans back in the chesterfield armchair gifted to him by his parents as part of their wedding present.

The wedding present being the house.

There are reminders of Astoria all over the house; from the pattern of the curtains to her photos lining the walls. She was everywhere. How was he was supposed to start living his life when his house remained a mausoleum?

He feels the hand on his shoulder; he doesn’t need to turn to see who it is.

“You need to stop doing this, Draco,” She murmurs.

He sighs through his nose, “I don’t see why.”

“You’re hurting everyone around you; you didn’t use to be like this.”

“It’s been a trying time, love.”

“I know it has. For both you and Scorpius, but it’s been three years, darling.”

The air in the room has become cold; too cold. To the point where his breath has started to fog; he takes a sip of the amber liquid to warm his body through.

“I can’t forget you, I won’t. He has no memories of you; he needs me to remember you.”

The voice behind him shakes, “My love, you’ll never forget me. I live on in him.”

Draco doesn’t say anything; the lump in his throat making it impossible for him to speak. The absolute yearning with him has him reaching up to take the hand settled on his shoulder.

The tears start to fall when his hand falls through the ghostly spectre.

-----

Morning comes and Draco wakes in the same chair he had fallen asleep in. He scratches at the stubble lining his face as he stretches his legs, bones popping as he stands to full height.

The clock on the mantle chimes seven times and Draco supposes he should start the day and collect his son from the Manor. He hadn’t been in any state last night to have him at home; it was better for Scorpius to stay with his grandparents.

The light to the bathroom flickers as Draco drags himself into the shower; the hot water and lavender shower gel doing a good job at leeching the tension that had become set into his shoulders.

He wipes the steam from the mirror before lathering his face with shaving cream and beginning the soothing action of shaving. Narcissa preferred him clean shaven anyway; believed that the stubble made him look like a vagrant.

A flash of white in the corner of his eye has Draco freezing with the razor halfway to his cheek.

His hand begins to shake, and he places the razor back in the sink as he braces himself on the counter. He counts to ten before he dares to look back up at himself in the mirror.

He was being haunted.

------

In the years after the Second Wizarding War, Narcissa had taken it upon herself to entirely renovate Malfoy Manor from the dark, dank place it was to make it more of a home for her family. A home in which Draco should have been raised in.

Narcissa greets him at the door with a kiss on the cheek and a concerned look that only a mother could pull off.

“Good Morning Mother, how are we today?”

“I’d be a lot better if you looked better. Did you get any sleep?”

Draco nods, thinking to the few hours in the armchair, “I got some.”

“Not enough by the looks of it, but at least you shaved. Have you eaten yet?”

He shakes his head, “I came straight here.”

“Luckily for you, Scorp is still eating.”

Draco hangs his coat on the grand railing by the door before following his mother through his childhood home.

His son beams at the sight of his father walking through the door, “Dad!” he yells, dropping his piece of fruit and jumping off his chair. He runs to Draco, wrapping his arms around his legs.

Draco chuckles, picking his son up, settling him on his waist, “Hey there squirt, did you have a nice night with granny and grandpa?”

Scorpius nods, still chewing his last piece of breakfast, “Yeah, me and granny baked, and she let me eat the mix!”

Narcissa lets out an overdramatic gasp, “That was our secret, Scorp!”

Scorpius laughs at his granny’s reaction, “I had to tell Dad!”

Draco tickles his son’s stomach; grinning at the laughter leaving his son’s mouth.

He had never known a world with his mother; and he never would, yet here he was as happy as any three year old could be.

“Are you joining us, Draco?” His father’s voice sounds; breaking Draco from his melancholy.

Draco clears his throat, letting Scorpius down so he can sit next to Narcissa at the table, “Yes, I think I will.”

Anything to not go back to the house so soon; anything to avoid seeing her in the corner of his eye or in the mirrors.

Narcissa nails him with a look she has made entirely her own after dealing with a supremacist order for over a decade.

Draco wavers under his mother’s stare; ready to drop the pretence and cry in her arms.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he grabs the bowl of strawberries and scoops a spoonful onto his plate before reaching for a waffle and grabbing his knife and fork.

“Lucius, darling, why don’t you show Scorpius your matchbox collection? I know he’d love them.”

“What are matched boxes?” Scorpius asks.

Narcissa laughs lightly at her grandson’s pronunciation, “Match boxes, sweetheart.”

Lucius stands from the table; knowing very well what the determined look in his wife’s eyes meant, “Come on, my boy. I’ll show you my collection; I want to see if you can count how many there are.”

Scorpius’ eyes light up at the chance to make his grandfather proud; he jumps down from the chair before reaching to grab Lucius’ hand. Together, they leave the dining room, Lucius prattling about the history of the match box and why they needed to be collected.

Narcissa waits until they’re out of earshot before turning on her son who on the outside, almost pulled off looking so put together. Inside, she knew, was a broken man desperate to find a way to lessen the pain.

“It’s been three years, darling.”

“I know,” Draco answers; resisting the urge to groan.

“How often are you visiting her?”

“Once a week now.”

There was a point in the first months after her death where Draco would visit the graveyard every day for hours. He didn’t even say anything; he just sat on the perfectly trimmed grass in front of her grave and sobbed for the life that had been lost and the future that had been robbed.

Narcissa nods, “That’s good, Draco.”

Draco nods; he had gotten better in the years since her passing but Narcissa would never understand what it feels like to lose a spouse a year into a marriage that should have lasted an eternity.

Narcissa sighs, “Do you think it’s time now?”

“Time for what?” He asks; voice hard.

“To think about finding somebody else? I’m not saying you need to do it right now, Draco, but it’s something to think about.”

Draco sees red, but he tries to keep a lid on his temper for the simple fact that it is his mother sitting in front of him, “I lost my wife, mother. She died giving birth to my son; your grandson. She died and now Scorpius doesn’t have a mother and I don’t have my wife standing beside me. I think I’ll take all the time I need to recover from this.”

Narcissa sighs, “Of course, Draco. You know I didn’t mean it as an insult.”

Draco rubs at his eyes; feeling wretched for the way he had spoken to his mother. She barely left his side after Astoria’s death; she had been the one to pull him away from her body.

“I’m sorry, mother. It was a tough night.”

“You’re having a lot of those, I’ve noticed.”

Draco’s lip begins to wobble, and he thanks Merlin that Scorpius is out of the room, so he didn’t have to watch his father fall to pieces.

Narcissa folds her son into her arms with the care only a mother could show. She strokes his hair as he sobs against her.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” Draco sobs.

“Neither did we, my love.”

-----

Draco feels better after talking to his mother. Lucius returned fairly quickly after Draco had dried his eyes; Scorpius following on his tail, chattering about what he planned to do when he returned home.

Draco opens his arms for his son who happily falls into them; preferring to be carried rather than walking unless he was running around the gardens or the park.

“Do you have everything you need?” Draco asks his son.

Scorpius nods as Lucius holds up the small overnight bag that holds his clothes, pyjamas and his priceless teddy, Wellesley. It was the first thing Astoria brought when she found out she was pregnant. Scorpius treasured it like nothing else.

Draco takes the bag from his father; well aware of the extra treats hidden there. Scorpius had Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy wrapped around his little finger.

After they apparate home, Lucius and Narcissa watch the spot in which their son and grandson disappeared. Hands clutching the other; both worried sick over their only son.

-----

He fills his week with his son; adventures, hide-and-seek, visits to the library. Draco makes sure Scorpius fills his day with activities designed to educate but to also have fun.

It’s also a way for Draco to keep his mind drifting to the one person who no matter how he often prays and wishes, will always remain absent.

The park is one of Scorpius’ favourite places to visit. He has a personal aim to swing as high as he can without giving his father a heart attack.

They spend their hours doing all sorts together, and every night before bed, Draco tucks Scorpius in tightly. Dropping a kiss to his son’s head and then his teddy’s head, Draco wishes Scorpius the sweetest of dreams.

On a night, Draco lets the memories of his short marriage consume him. He doesn’t wear his wedding ring on his finger anymore, but rather, attached to a chain he wears around his neck. He twists this chain for hours on a night thinking of the mother that Astoria never got the chance to be.

------

Draco’s visit to the graveyard is shorter this week on account of what happened last time. He knew what happened in the living room was down to the fact that he had spent too much time at her grave, lamenting how much he missed her.

It was expected that she would answer his calls.

So he resolves to make this visit shorter; long enough to clean the area and replace the flowers but short enough to not tempt fate and spectres.

Draco recounts to her tales of Scorpius’ week. Draco laughs and beams like a proud father when he tells the story of Scorpius adopting the family of Nifflers from their copse at the bottom of the garden. He had been so proud of himself; walking all the way back to the house with a four Nifflers in tow who had deemed Scorpius as one their own.

“You’d have thought he was a Scamander,” Draco laughs, patting the loose grass from his suit pants. “I think he could very well excel at Care of Magical Creatures but it’s too soon to tell, my dear.”

Eventually, Draco stands, wiping down his black suit trousers and whispering a goodbye.

Draco is a few steps away from the black, creaky gate when you bustle through; bouquet in hand, sad smile on your face.

You pause in the gateway when you see Draco standing before you.

“(Y/N),” Draco greets, “I was hoping to catch you. I wanted to apologise for how I spoke to you the last time I saw you.”

“Draco, there’s nothing to apologise for. You’re mourning your wife; the last thing you need is someone invading that space.”

“All the same, I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”

“I accept your apology, Draco.”

“Would you like to join me for a coffee? It’s been years since I saw you last, and I think it would be nice to catch up.”

You glance between the flowers in your hand and Draco waiting patiently for an answer.

“It’s okay if you don’t. I understand if you want to be with your grandfather.”

You bite your lip, glancing back to the flowers, “Do you want to come with me? All I need to is say hello and change the flowers. You don’t have to, though.”

Draco shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. I’ve had my visit today, so I don’t mind waiting with you.”

You smile at him gratefully, “Thank you; he’s just this way.”

Draco follows you as you walk the well-trodden path to your grandfather’s grave. He doesn’t let himself think as he follows, and as a result, almost bumps into you when you stop in front of a grey granite headstone.

“Hi Grandad,” You greet, “I’ve brought someone with me today, I hope you don’t mind. I’m just changing your flowers though because then we’re going to get coffee.”

You turn your attention to Draco when you finish speaking, “It’s morbid I know but it helps me process. I know he isn’t hearing me, but I can vent here and somehow I always find a solution to my problem.”

Draco nods, “I do the same with Astoria. I tell her about Scorpius and her parents though I know they visit just as much.”

You smile at the blonde-haired man before discarding the dried out flowers to one side, replacing them with the fresher, brighter flowers.

Draco watches you through the process; not missing the way your eyes dart between the headstone and to something just past it.

For a brief moment, Draco wonders if you’re being haunted too.

-----

The coffee shop is warm compared to the brisk wind that howls outside. Draco’s body relaxes as he takes in the familiar scent of bitter coffee beans; it was a recent love of his, but now, he wouldn’t find himself going a day without a cup of the acrid liquid.

You unravel the scarf hanging around your neck before taking a seat at a corner table, “I didn’t think it would be this cold today. It makes me glad I overdressed,” you chuckle.

Draco laughs politely; his own coat now hanging on the back of his chair.

You smile, “Do you know what you want? I’ll go order.”

“Nonsense, I’ll order, I invited you here.”

“Well I won’t turn down free coffee, I’ll have a latte please.”

“I’ll be right back,” is all he says before leaving the table to order.

As the drinks are being made by the teenaged barista, Draco starts to second-guess his intentions for why he asked you for coffee in the first place. All week the conversation he had with his mother had been replaying in his mind, and then he runs into you as he’s leaving the graveyard. Before he knew it, the words were flying out of his mouth and he was unable to stop them.

He’s panicking, but he doesn’t find himself regretting asking you.

He’s only regretting his intentions as to why he asked you.

He’s been alone for three years. He has Scorpius, and his parents, but he doesn’t have anyone he can talk to on a night when the air is quiet, and the moon is high. He doesn’t have that one person that he can simply hold and know that everything will be okay.

Then and there, he lets himself admit it: he’s lonely.

Astoria had been everything for the eighteen months they had been together. He was utterly devoted to her; completely besotted by her. Draco knew that he had found the love of his life; he just didn’t expect her to be taken from him so soon.

But still he wonders.

He wonders if it’s time; he wonders whether Astoria watches him and urges him to find someone new.

To feel that rush of falling in love all over again.

The clinking of mugs rips Draco from his internal debating. He thanks the barista with a smile, picking up the tray of drinks and walking carefully back to where you wait for him.

You thank him as you pick up your latte, “You looked to be thinking pretty intensely over there.”

“You were watching me?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you say, “I got bored of the view of the café.”

Draco nods; sipping tentatively at his coffee, wincing before adding another sugar to taste.

“What were you thinking of? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind. I was thinking of Astoria,” he admits.

You simply nod your head; understanding completely that a widow would think of his loss.

“How are you coping with her loss? It’s been a few years now, hasn’t it?”

“I could ask you the same question about your grandfather,” Draco murmurs, “We’re coping okay. Scorpius is thriving; he’s such a smart three year old and I know I’m biased but he retains information like a sponge.”

You laugh, “I was going to ask you about your son, I’m glad to hear he’s happy.”

“He doesn’t have any memories of his mother, but he knows who she is. He has a framed picture of her in his room that he says goodnight to every night.”

“He sounds precious, Draco.”

Draco nods; thinking of his dear boy, “He is. And I know she’s proud of him, I just feel it in my bones.”

“I’ll bet my last sickle that she’s proud of you too.”

Draco blinks fast; ridding the sudden tears away. “Thank you,” he whispers, taking another drink of his coffee to distract from the sudden wave of emotion.

He clears his throat once the wave has passed, “I asked you here to catch up; not for me to ruin the mood with my grief. How have you been? I haven’t seen you since the war.”

“You can talk to me about this, Draco, I don’t mind,” You state before continuing, “I’ve been well – I travelled a lot after the war. The whole realisation of life is short really hit me, so I left the country for a bit; travelled through Europe before jumping ship to America.”

Draco’s eyes widen, “That’s incredible. Where was your favourite place to travel?”

You glare at him playfully, “That’s such a hard question!”

He laughs lightly, “Still – you have to answer.”

You tap your fingers against your thigh, thinking his question over. You had loved everywhere you visited; feeling extremely fortunate to have met such a range of magical communities as well as integrate yourself within muggle society for a time.

“I think it would have to be this tiny island in Greece; it is said that in ancient times, the locals believed it was the end of the world, and if you went any further, you would fall off. I stayed there the longest; around a month where I explored the island, ate their food, and drank with the locals. It was the best time of my life.”

Draco inhales sharply at your words; not realised that he’s instinctively leaned towards you through your speech. He leans back into his chair, running a hand through his hair, “It sounds wonderful,” he whispers.

You nod; eyes glazed somewhat as you think back to your time on that heavenly island, “It really was.”

You shake yourself from your reminiscing, “What about you then, Draco? I know about the wedding, and your son, but what did you do after the war?”

Draco waves his hand in a nonchalant fashion, “Nothing as wonderful as travelling the globe though I did go to France on my honeymoon. I trained as a Healer straight from Hogwarts; I’ve been at St. Mungo’s since Scorpius was born.”

“That’s great, Draco! I always knew you would make a great Healer ever since I saw you in Potions.”

Draco ducks his head, “Thank you, I enjoy the work. Are you working now?”

You nod your head, “I work for the Daily Prophet; writing real articles and not the trollop that Rita Skeeter used to waffle on about.”

Draco barks out a laugh, surprising himself at the volume of it, “I remember her coverage of the Triwizard Tournament! It was so awful.”

You beam; eyes bright with joy, “Weren’t they? I promise I’m a much better writer… not to sound big-headed.”

“I completely believe you; I’ll have to start keeping an eye out for your articles. I haven’t read the paper in so long. I haven’t had the time if I’m honest – I get my news from my mother.”

“How are your parents? I heard about them after the war.”

“Mother coped so well. She made it her mission to entirely renovate the house, and with it, the Malfoy reputation. She donates to charities now; her focus is children orphaned during the war. Father struggled, but he’s found his purpose for life again in Scorpius. Last time I was there, he showed him his collection of matchboxes.”

You laugh lightly, “That’s brilliant. I’m glad to hear that they’re doing well.”

“How is your family? I remember your mother from Kings Cross, always running to meet you off the train.”

“She’s doing okay,” You sigh, “She struggled after my grandfather but she’s working her way back to herself.”

Draco nods in understanding; he felt nothing but pride and a sting of jealously for your mothers process with her grief. Here he was, three years later, and still reaching out to the other side of bed only to grasp at empty, cold sheets.

However, as all things must, your time together comes to an end. The coffees are drank; coats are pulled back on and goodbyes are said on the pavement.

Draco walks away from you; apparating back to his home feeling lighter than he has in years.

------

Draco takes Scorpius to Diagon Alley on a Wednesday morning.

His son had been particularly restless the night before; a nightmare waking him. Draco does what he can to chase the monsters away before scooping up his only son and carrying him to the master bedroom. Scorpius sleeps soundly after that, but Draco remains awake – mind plaguing him with memories of Astoria but also of the coffee he shared with you.

It’s noon when Scorpius begins to pester his father for lunch. In his own words; he’s starving, and he hasn’t eaten in hours.

Draco laughs at his son. Three years old, but utterly dramatic. He kneels down so he’s eye-level, “How about we have ice cream for lunch?”

Scorpius’ face lights up and he begins to jump in his spot, “Can we go now? Please?”

Draco nods, holding out his hand for Scorpius take so he doesn’t get lost in the short distance to Florean Fortescue’s. He had lost him once; and whilst it was only two minutes before he found him, it was two minutes, he never wants to relive.

Draco lifts Scorpius so he can see the rows of flavours behind the glass. Scorpius’ eyes are wide as he checks the colour of every flavour. He even goes so far to press his face to the glass, fogging it up. Draco chuckles at his son’s antics; knowing full well he’ll pick the same flavour he’s gotten on every visit.

“Have you decided?”

Scorpius nods, “Chocolate please.”

Draco places Scorpius on the ground, “One chocolate tub, and one caramel fudge swirl tub please.”

Florean nods at the young Malfoy family with a large smile; watching them sit down at a window table before bringing their ice creams to them.

Scorpius attacks his chocolate tub with ferocity. Draco touches his son’s hand, “Slow down, squirt. You’ll get stomach ache.”

Scorpius looks as if he doesn’t believe his father’s word but not wanting to risk the chance of a stomach ache, he slows his pace. Carefully scooping the frozen treat before eating. His legs swing as he watches the scores of witches and wizards passing; they all look to be hurrying somewhere yet Scorpius doesn’t know where, but seeing all the different people, keeps his attention squarely on the window.

Draco works his way through his ice cream faster than his son; his weakness being the caramel fudge swirl that Florean makes fresh every day. He settles for drifting once his tub is empty and Scorpius is happily distracted by whatever he’s watching out of the window.

Draco begins to wonder about his son’s future – something he’s done a thousand times since his birth. He wonders about what Hogwarts house would best fit his sons personality; though he knew that the Sorting Hat would be the final word on that. But Draco can’t help but ponder over what attributes his son will demonstrate – will he ambitious enough for Slytherin? Courageous enough for Gryffindor? Loyal enough for Hufflepuff? Creative enough for Ravenclaw?

He had eight more years to ponder over it, but it’s still a question he’d like answered. However, Draco would still adore his son no matter his house.

“Draco?” Your voice sounds, breaking him out of his deliberating.

“(Y/N),” He greets.

Scorpius turns from people-watching, taking in the visitor standing at their table.

“And you must be Scorpius, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N).”

Scorpius shies away slightly from the new person, inching back a bit in his chair.

“It’s okay, Scorpius,” Draco reassures, “I went to school with (Y/N).”

You nod, “I did! I was in Slytherin with him, and he was so smart! He still is; he’s a Healer isn’t he? Isn’t that so cool?”

Draco blushes at your compliments but it brings Scorpius out of his shell.

“My dad is the coolest! He fixes people when they are very sick.”

You nod seriously, “Yes, he does. It was very nice to meet you, Scorpius but I have to get back to work with my ice cream.”

Scorpius smiles, his teeth on show, “Goodbye!”

“It was nice to see you, Draco,” You say, smiling at the blonde-haired man.

“It was nice to see you too, even if it was so brief.”

You laugh, “Work calls I’m afraid, but I always have an ice cream, so I wasn’t going to let work stop me,” You wander back to the counter where Florean waits with your cone, “I’ll also cover Draco’s bill too, Florean.”

“You don’t have to,” Draco begins to protest.

You hold your hand up, smiling gently, “You treated me to coffee. I’ll treat you to your ice cream.”

Draco nods, wordlessly. Scorpius watches him with his eyebrows furrowed.

You take a lick of your cone, “I’ll see you soon, Draco. Have a nice day, Scorpius!”

And like that, you leave the ice cream parlour, heading back to the office where a pile of work awaits.

Draco leans back in his chair, disbelief clear on his face.

“What’s wrong, dad?”

Draco shakes his head, “Nothing, squirt.”

Scorpius shrugs, determining it adult stuff. “I like the lady who spoke to us.”

“(Y/N)?”

Scorpius nods, “She was really nice.”

“She is. She was nice when we were at school together.”

“She’s a good friend.”

“She is,” Draco murmurs once again, mind in another place entirely.

Scorpius lets his father have his moment; turning back to the window, wondering if he might get to see the nice lady named (Y/N) again.

------

Two months pass, and January’s winter gives way to March’s spring.

The gardens at his home and at the Manor have started to bloom beautifully meaning that Draco is constantly surrounded by floral aromas that make his head spin and Scorpius sneeze.

Draco starts to see more and more of you at the graveyard. After each visit, you seem to wait for the other – always asking whether the other would like to go for a coffee; very rarely refusing the offer.

He enjoyed the time he spent with you; Draco felt like he got to make up for the lost time he was an arsehole at Hogwarts.

The more time he spent with you; the more he started to feel the urge to begin his life again. But the hauntings continue; he continues to see his wife in the mirror; hearing her voice on a night whispering to him that it’s okay to move on. But hearing those words from the mouth of the woman he promised an eternity with racks his entire body with guilt.

But it’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t want to stay away from you.

The more time you spend with Draco Malfoy; the more you can feel yourself fall for him – his smile, his eyes, his mind. You just hoped that the landing wasn’t going to be too rough.

------

Draco drops Scorpius off at the Manor before heading to the graveyard for his usual Saturday visit. He blindly hopes to see you again after running into you at the ice cream parlour and seldom seeing you after but refuses to let himself dwell too long on the hope.

He was visiting his dead wife, after all.

He still grieves for her; still reaches for her in the middle of the night, but there are times through the day where he doesn’t feel so weighed down by grief – where he feels as if he can begin functioning fully once again.

But then that brings the guilt.

And that leads to the sightings.

And then that leads to the visits.

It’s a vicious cycle, and he’s desperate to break it.

He knows logically that Astoria would always be a part of him; he sees her every time he lays eyes on Scorpius but the small voice in the back of his head tells him often that he isn’t ready to let go yet.

And all Draco is desperate to know is: when?

-----

You find him knelt before her grave. He’s silent; simply staring at her headstone, reading the words that are already seared into his mind: Beloved Daughter, Wife, and Mother.

You place your hand on his shoulder and he jumps at the sudden contact. He relaxes once he sees it’s you, “(Y/N),” he breathes out, “I thought you were someone else.”

“I can tell,” you murmur, “Are you okay?”

He nods silently; gazing at the headstone once again, “I will be.”

“I can stay with you, if you need me.”

He shakes his head, “Go. Go see your grandfather; tell him hi from me.”

You want to laugh but nothing comes out. Draco looks at you; his blue eyes bright, “I’ll be okay,” he says gently.

The softness of his voice has you stepping away, “You know where I’ll be if you need me.”

Draco nods, hearing you walk away from him.

He’s a man made entirely of conflictions. He watches you from the corner of his eye and wonders whether he is finally ready to start his life again after Astoria; ready press play once more and see what happens but the sheer fear that runs through him, paralyses him.

He doesn’t know what to think; he doesn’t know what to do.

All he knows is that in the handful of times he has seen you, you make him want to live again.

----

Your time with your grandfather comes to an end, and you stand from where you had knelt, murmuring a goodbye.

You can’t miss the way Draco remains in front of his wife’s grave. Standing just after you; stretching out the tight muscles in his back that had stiffened the longer he had sat there.

You sigh at the sight; mindlessly wondering if you would ever find a love that would impact you this much.

It was unintentional; it hadn’t meant to happen but the feelings you once harboured for the Slytherin Prince were returning in full force the more you saw of him.

But now, there was so much more to consider.

At Hogwarts, it was social groups that kept you from ever revealing your crush – that, and Pansy Parkinson. Now, though, Draco was a widower still very much in love with his dead wife, and he had a son that came first.

You know you need to tread carefully, but there was something addicting about the man’s presence. His way with words; his hand gestures; how he’d slip off into his own mind – it all had you caught; you were hook, line, and sinker.

You make your way back to the blonde-haired man, “What do you say to another coffee? I wish I could have stayed longer the last time I saw you, but work, you know?”

Draco nods; looking very much as if he wants to accept – the words being on the very tip of his tongue, but he sighs heavily, “I can’t today, I need to grab my son from my parents.”

“Oh,” You shake your head – of course, “Another time then! I’d like to see you again soon.”

You make to walk away but a hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, “Would you like to come with me? I need to grab Scorpius but we’re making dinner tonight and you’re welcome to join.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be. Scorpius has been asking about you.”

That makes your decision for you, “Alright, I’ll join you for dinner.”

Draco smiles; letting go of his hold on your wrist, “I usually apparate to the manor, do you mind?”

You shake your head, placing a gentle hand on his outstretched arm.

Within a second, you’ve landed at the seat of Malfoy power for the last century. Draco was right you realise; Narcissa had lightened the manor up. Flowers border the main path; stemming from Hyacinths to white Lilies, to Irises. Colour lives up the home immediately, and the warm light coming from the masses of windows only makes the place more welcoming.

“I remember visiting here when I was a youngster,” You start, “I remember it being cold and uninviting… no offence, but now it feels so warm and happy.”

“That’s my mother’s influence,” Draco states; smiling wryly at the sight of all the flowers, knowing too well of the masses of Roses behind the manor.

Draco sounds the knocker three times before Narcissa pulls open the door with the smile reserved only for her son. She blinks twice before registering your presence; then she needs to do a double take.

“Afternoon, Mother,” Draco greets; leaning in to kiss her cheek which Narcissa returns distractedly – her eyes still on you.

“Draco, dear,” She greets, “And who have you brought with you?”

“Straight to the crux, aren’t we?” Draco laughs, “This is (Y/N). Surely you remember her?”

“Not Anthony’s granddaughter?”

You nod your head; ignoring the spear of grief flung through you at the sound of your grandfather’s name, “The very same,” you greet, “It’s lovely to be here. I was just mentioning to Draco how gorgeous your flowers are.”

Narcissa beams; her flowers are her pride and joy other than the son who had battled so much and came out the other side only stronger. “Thank you, my dear. Lucius and I were so saddened to hear of Anthony’s passing – tell me, how is your mother doing?”

“Better, thank you. She took his death as a blow – well, we all did but she took it the hardest being the only daughter and losing my grandmother so young.”

Narcissa nods; ushering you into the foyer of the grand manor, “We sent flowers, but we’re sorry we couldn’t make it to the service.”

A lumps forms in your throat at the mention of the service. It had been a beautiful and respectful service, but your memories of it were tied with the heart-clenching sobs of your mother as he cried about how she missed her father. It was a hard day and night for all; very few had dry eyes.

Draco notices your hesitancy at replying to his mother; notices the glazed look in your eye. He wraps his arm around Narcissa’s shoulder, distracting her from asking you any more questions, “How was Scorpius today?”

“Like always, an angel,” Narcissa coos, “Lucius has started to teach him French.”

“French? So early?” Draco asks; keeping a wary eye on you.

“Nonsense, my love. You were three when we started to teach you the basics.”

“You speak French?” You ask; mind now focused back onto the conversation. You shoot a grateful look to draco; he replies with a soft, kind smile.

Narcissa nods, “Most of our family does. Draco has spoken French fluently since he was nine years old.”

“Oui, maman,” Draco responds cheekily.

Narcissa playfully hit her son’s shoulder, “Hush you. Scorpius is with your father in the Library – shall we go grab him?”

Draco nods; desperate to see his son after hours apart, “Are you okay to follow?” he asks, throwing a glance to where you remain rooted.

You shake yourself free; banishing all thoughts of Draco and his speaking of one of the most romantic languages on the planet from your head.

You follow with a sheepish smile, “Definitely. Even I’ve heard tales of Lucius’ library.”

Narcissa chuckles, “He spends more time in there; researching and reading anything.”

“What does he research?” You ask; curiosity piqued.

“Anything – the pagan tribes of the celts at the moment. He’s focused on the history of Wiltshire at the moment; I’ve had stop him twice this week from apparating to Stonehenge and scaring the tourists.”

Draco pauses; falling into step with you as Narcissa opens the library doors, “My father needed something to do after the war; historical research turned out to be his niche.”

“It sounds like he’s having one hell of a time,” You comment; not kissing the grin that stretches across Draco’s face.

“Scorp, darling, your father is here!” Narcissa calls out after not having found her grandson where she had left him with his grandfather.

It’s hard to miss the footfalls of the toddler as he runs through the shelve stacks, crowing, “Dad! You’re back!”

Draco catches Scorpius in his arms, “Hey there, squirt. How was your day?”

“Fun. Grandpa taught me about the selts.”

“Celts, my boy,” Lucius says, appearing from behind one of the many shelves, “A hard C. Celts.”

Scorpius’ eyebrows furrows as he repeats the word again, “Celts.”

Lucius claps, “Excellent! We’ll make a historian of you yet.”

Scorpius beams at the pride rolling off Lucius in waves; he almost doesn’t notice you standing next to Draco.

“(Y/N)!”

“Hi Scorpius,” You greet.

“Why are you here?” He asks.

You laugh at his curiosity, “Your father invited me for tea, is that okay?”

The young boy nods, “We’re having pasta.”

You smile, “I like pasta.”

Scorpius nods again, and just like that, it’s settled.

Draco hitches Scorpius higher onto his hip, “He wasn’t much trouble?”

His question breaks his parents from staring at the exchange between you and Scorpius. Lucius smiles at Draco, “Scorpius is never any trouble.”

“Thank you for looking after him again.”

“It’s no bother to us. We love the boy,” Narcissa comments; blinking away what look to be like tears.

“We’ll see you soon, no doubt,” Draco says, “Say bye to granny and grandpa, squirt.”

Scorpius yells his goodbye with a large smile.

Draco holds his free arm out to you, and the three of you apparate to his home in the next village over.

Draco’s house is nowhere near the size of Malfoy Manor, but it is still large in comparison to the two bedroomed flat you rented in Diagon Alley.

It’s perfectly symmetrical you realise as Draco opens the garden gate. Two windows on either side of the pale green front door. Always a Slytherin, you think as you follow Draco up the main path. He readjusts Scorpius as he reaches for his key; putting Scorpius down as he opens the door.

Scorpius reaches for your hand, “I’ll show you the kitchen,” he states, leading you through the large foyer to a room just to the right.

The kitchen is the biggest one you’ve been in. The island being home to a breakfast bar where Scorpius tries to climb up to before you cave and place him on one of the stools.

Draco follows closely behind; opening the fridge to grab the ingredients for dinner.

You hop off a stool, “What can I do to help?”

Draco pauses, “You need to sit down, I said I was cooking.”

You roll your eyes, “I want to help, so what can I do?”

“Add the pasta to the pot when the water starts to boil. I’ve already salted the water.”

You nod, rolling the sleeves up on your blouse. Draco doesn’t miss the small tattoo on your left forearm, “When did you get that?” he asks as he starts to crush and chop some garlic.

You look down to the now familiar swirling patterns below the crook of your elbow, laughing, “I got it after our Eighth Year. I snuck out to a muggle artist and got it done; mum hit the roof.”

Draco laughs, moving on to slicing the tomatoes in two. You look down at the pot of water, happy to see it boiling. You add the pasta to the pot, stirring twice before stepping away from the pan.

You sit back down at the breakfast bar; ruffling Scorpius’ hair as you do so. The blonde-haired boy giggles, “Can I see your arm?”

You glance at Draco to check that he’s okay with Scorpius seeing your tattoo. Draco nods and you hold out your arm for Scorpius to gaze at your tattoo.

He reaches out a small finger, running it over the ink gently, “Did it hurt?”

You shake your head, “Not a bit.”

“Dad has a tattoo.”

You stiffen at his words; so does Draco.

The Dark Mark that mars Draco’s arm wasn’t spoken about when it was placed on his forearm, and it wasn’t spoken about now. It has been years since the Dark Lord was vanquished by Harry Potter yet his mark upon the house of Malfoy had definitely been left.

“It’s pale but I’ve seen it.”

Draco clears his throat, saying somewhat brokenly, “Dinner is almost ready. Go clean up, squirt.”

You help Scorpius down from the stool; grinning as he rushes away to the downstairs bathroom to wash his hands before dinner.

As soon as he’s left, you turn your attention back to Draco who’s stirring the pan of pasta quietly, “I’m sorry, Draco.”

“For what?” He asks incredulously.

“For showing him my tattoo. I didn’t think he would bring up yours.”

Draco shrugs, “It’s okay. I’ve learned to live with it, and like squirt said, it’s pretty faded now.”

You nod, “I’m glad. Where do you keep your plates? I’ll grab them for you.”

“Second cupboard on from the fridge. There’s a small plastic one for Scorpius there too.”

You grab the three plates, wandering back to where Draco is adding the pasta to the sauce simmering away in the pan. Scorpius rushes back into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table by the window.

“Show us your hands, squirt. Are they clean?”

Scorpius holds his hands up, waving them at his father. Draco squints, pretending to look over his son’s hands with extra care, “Very good. Are you ready to eat?”

“Yes!” Scorpius shouts, legs kicking under the table.

Draco laughs, “Well it’s a good thing it’s ready then!”

Draco takes over yours and Scorpius’ plates first before grabbing his and the cutlery. He cuts up Scorpius’ pasta before settling in his own seat and starting to eat.

“This is so tasty,” You compliment, “One of the best meals I’ve had.”

Scorpius nods rapidly, working through his own mouthful before saying, “Dad is the best cook! You should try his pancakes!”

“Thanks, squirt,” Draco replies, smiling at him.

“I’ll have to try those pancakes one day,” You murmur, casting a side glance at the blonde-haired man sat to your left.

“I think you will,” He replies, effectively knocking the breath out of you.

Of course, you would rekindle feelings for your teenage crush when he’s now a widow and a father. You wanted to roll your eyes, but instead, you focus your gaze back to your meal.

The dinner is soon over, and the plates are cleared away to the sink where they’ll be washed after dessert.

Dessert is a slice of chocolate cake and ice cream; a treat from Narcissa. Scorpius makes as much conversation as he can; telling his father and you about the day he had at his grandparents where he learnt about the mystical celts and Stonehenge. Soon, though, his eyes start to droop and his final spoonful of cake clatters to the plate.

Draco scoops up his son; cradling in his arms as he once did those years ago. Draco murmurs an apology to you as he carries his son from the kitchen to his room, but you wave him away.

To help, you collect the plates and start running the hot water, adding dish soap as you go. You’re almost finished with the final plate when Draco returns from putting Scorpius to bed.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

You shrug, “I don’t mind – it makes me feel useful.”

“Alright. You washed, I’ll dry,” Draco bargains; grabbing the tea towel from the counter and picking up the first plate.

“Did he fall asleep okay?” You question.

Draco nods, “Out like a light, I had put his pyjamas on for him.”

You chuckle, “Bless him.”

“He really likes you,” Draco comments.

“Well, what’s not to like?” You quip, grinning, “I really like him too. He’s a credit to you, Draco.”

Draco finishes drying the final plate; putting them back in their assigned cupboard.

“Thank you. Would you like a drink, or do you need to be at work early?”

“I do, but I’d like that drink.”

Draco pulls two glasses from the display before reaching for a bottle of red wine. You already knew that you would wake up tomorrow with a headache, but it was worth it to spend more time with him.

Draco pours two glasses before handing one to you. He grabs the bottle and his glass, leading you to the living room across the foyer.

You take a seat on the maroon couch, taking a drink of wine before placing the glass on a coaster.

“Thank you for the meal. It was delicious. Where did you learn to cook like that?”

“That is all part of Narcissa Malfoy’s rearing of a good husband. She started teaching me to cook before I left for Hogwarts and would give me lessons every school holiday.”

“Well, you’re very good. I’ll be thinking of that pasta for days.”

Draco smiles at you from over the rim of his wine glass and your stomach flips.

“Why did you tell your mother that it was just dinner?” You question, referring to the incident earlier at Malfoy Manor. You take another sip of wine, watching Draco the whole time.

“Mother has it in her mind that it’s time for me to find someone new. She worries that I’ve been alone too long,” Draco drawls wryly.

“What do you think?”

Draco swishes the remaining wine in his glass; reaching for the bottle to refill.

“I don’t know,” is his answer as he tops off your glass too.

“Are you lonely?”

“You really are a journalist, aren’t you?” He teases.

You roll your eyes, smiling, “Are you though? Lonely?”

Draco locks eyes with you; the answer is on the tip of his tongue, ready to make its entrance but he’s interrupted by the cry of his son.

Wine glasses are placed hurriedly as you both rush to the young boy’s room; his cries getting louder.

The both of you fall into the room in a hurry; desperate to help Scorpius. Draco shakes his shoulders, bringing him back to reality.

“Scorpius, Scorpius – it’s okay, open your eyes.”

“Dad?” Scorpius asks; his voice a sob.

“It’s me, squirt. I’m here.”

Scorpius opens his arms for his father. Draco picks him up with no hesitation; cuddling his son to his side – drying his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“It sounded like a bad one,” Draco comments.

Scorpius nods, “I don’t want to go back to sleep, I’m scared.”

Draco looks torn in two. On the one hand, Scorpius needs to sleep otherwise he’ll be as cranky as a Hungarian Horntail tomorrow. However, on the other hand, Draco won’t force Scorpius back into another nightmare by insisting he sleep.”

You step forward, perching on the end of Scorpius’ bed, “I have an idea, but you need to be all comfortable and cosy, okay?”

Scorpius nods timidly; rearranging himself against Draco’s side, cuddling his beloved teddy tighter.

“Are you cosy?”

He nods once more.

“Okay, I’ll begin: Once upon a time in a far off land there lived a king who was very lonely. He had tried for years and years to meet the love of his life, but he felt defeated for he hadn’t found the one…”

It takes over an hour – three stories and two muggle songs before Scorpius is soundly sleeping once again.

Draco shifts him with the expertise of a parent before leaving his bedroom with you in tow.

He goes to close the door, but you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him. “Leave it open two,” you start, “the light from the landing will comfort him a little if he has another nightmare.”

Draco leaves the door open a crack. Turning to you, he says, “I don’t know why I never thought of that.”

You shrug, “It’s something my mum used to do for me.”

“You were incredible in there by the way,” Draco compliments as you descend the stairs together.

“Thank you,” You murmur shyly.

“Where did you learn those stories and songs?” He asks, “I feel like I should take notes for next time,” he chuckles half-heartedly.

You laugh too, “The stories I made up years ago and the songs are muggle ones I heard on my travels. I used to babysit my younger cousins for extra pocket money – I got to be creative very quickly.”

“Well it paid off,” Draco comments, eyes flickering to the stairs.

“It certainly did,” You murmur; eyes following Draco’s.

It’s silent for a few moments; the both of you thinking of the other without the other knowing. You, terrified to tell him for the fear of rejection. Him, terrified about letting down his dead wife.

You both go to speak at the same time and promptly burst into quiet laughter.

Through the span of the conversation, you’ve gravitated towards Draco – bodies angled towards each other, hands close to touching, heads close together.

If you leaned forward an inch, your mouth would be on his.

The alcohol coursing through your veins makes the connection for you as in the next second, you’ve leant forward and attached your lips to Draco’s.

He doesn’t respond at first; too in shock by your boldness but when you’re about to pull away, he wraps a hand in your hair, keeping your mouth pressed to his. Lips glide together seamlessly. He bites down on your lower lip, making you gasp. He deepens the kiss then; shifting on the couch to press you further into it.

Your hand make their way into his hair, and Draco groans against your mouth at the feel.

But it’s all too much and you need to pull away.

Chest heaving, you drag your mouth away from Draco’s. He nuzzles his nose into your cheek, pressing little kisses across your jawline to your ear before sitting back up.

“I didn’t expect that,” You gasp.

“Neither did I, but I’m not mad about it.”

“You aren’t? I did just jump you.”

Draco laughs, “It would have happened sooner or later.”

“Really?” You ask; a note of happiness unmistakable in your voice.

Draco nods, running his thumb across your lips, relishing in the fact that they’re swollen because of him.

The wine has gone to your head, and you feel your eyes begin to droop before the first yawn hits. You sigh, pulling away from Draco’s distracting touch, “I think I better head off.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to leave.”

“Why, do you want me to stay, Draco?” You tease.

He nods, “I can’t offer much, but this couch is really comfy.”

“And where will you be sleeping?” You ask; the wine making you more brash.

Draco blushes. You take back your words, “I’m sorry, Draco. Red wine goes straight to my head.”

“Don’t be, it’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t. I just propositioned you and all we’ve done is kiss,” You groan, dropping your head into your hands.

Draco pulls your hands away from your face, “(Y/N), it’s fine, really. The blanket on the back of the couch is really warm; grab it will you?”

You feel your face heat as you reach for the large grey blanket draped over the back of the couch. Draco stands momentarily to toe off his shoes before settling back down on the couch. You slip off your own shoes before clambering onto the couch next to him.

This was all so intimate.

Draco throws the large blanket over you both. Once suitably covered, his arm slips around your waist and your hand rests on his chest.

Neither of you say anything. No words need to be spoken now; everything expressed through actions alone.

With a kiss to the top of your head, Draco falls asleep unafraid of what he’ll meet in the morning.

--------

It’s the sunlight that wakes you. Bright light warming your face; you flutter your eyes open to find you face to face with Draco’s chest. Neither of you had moved in night; if anything, becoming closer together. At some point, his legs had tangled with yours and your hand had gripped his shirt so tight, it came away wrinkled when you loosened your grip.

You sigh happily; then you glance at the clock on the mantle piece where the hands make it abundantly clear that you were going to be late for work.

Extracting yourself carefully from Draco’s hold, you pick up your shoes from the floor. You search quickly for a spare piece of paper and a pen; scrawling a note for Draco to read when he wakes.

With one last look at the man you had fallen for in such a short amount of time, you apparated away.

-----

Draco wakes not long after you leave; feeling oddly light without the weight of your body pressed up against him. He frowns when he realises that you’ve left without a goodbye but with a glance at the clock, he doesn’t have much time to worry about it.

Scorpius would be awake any minute and demanding breakfast.

Draco sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. It had been so long since he had slept with someone by his side; wrapped around him the way you were, and he was happy to admit, he had missed the feeling of another human pressed so tightly against him, he could feel every contour in their body.

He almost falls off the couch when he notices your note lying on the table. He grabs it with shaking hands:

“Had to go to work – meet me for lunch if you can? Thank you for last night. You still owe me pancakes – (Y/N).”

He feels like a teenager again experiencing the rush of his first crush. He runs a hand across his face; standing up to get a start on breakfast. He folds your note in two before sliding it into his wallet for safekeeping.

It’s then that Draco realises he has two things he needs to do.

-----

Draco drops Scorpius off at Astoria’s parents for the morning. Apologising to his son for bailing on their plans of the park and the library; Scorpius simply pats his father’s face in goodbye before running to his grandma and grandad Greengrass.

Draco waves at his in-laws before apparating to see their daughter.

-----

The graveyard looks entirely different, but Draco knows nothing has changed. What has changed is him, and he need to tell Astoria.

Kneeling in his usual place in front of her grave, Draco releases a shaky breath.

“Hi darling, I know I’m early for our visit, but I have something important to discuss with you,” He looks down at his hands before continuing, “I think I’ve met someone, and I really want to pursue it. I want to see where it goes.

“You have to understand, darling, I never thought I would love again after you. I really didn’t and for three years, I’ve been an island with just enough room for Scorpius. I didn’t expect it, but it happened, and I like the way (Y/N) makes me feel. I feel excited again; my hands are shaking from the very thought.

“Scorpius likes her by the way, and she likes him, but they both know they won’t ever fill the role that you were supposed to. And I think they’re both happy with that knowledge.

“I’m not asking for your permission, but I am asking for your forgiveness. For not loving you harder; for not taking more time to be with you; for not apologising immediately after every argument. But I’m ready to start living again and I’ve found someone that makes me want to live again; that incites that spark of life within me, and I desperately want to see where it goes.

“I haven’t seen you in a while; around the house. I think you realised what was happening before I did and finally made your peace with it. I can’t ever forget you and our time. I see whenever I look at our little boy, but I’m ready to begin again, and so I shall.”

Draco stands from the grave feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had to speak to Astoria before he could speak to you; he had tell her his choice but to reassure that he would always love her, but his heart was ready to make room for another person.

And that person was you.

With one last glance at the marble headstone, Draco apparates to Diagon Alley.

----------

The offices to the Daily Prophet newspaper lie in a side street just off the high street. He signs in at reception but asks the receptionist not to alert you of his presence. The receptionist flushes when she realises that she’s now part of a romantic plot. Draco smiles at her gratefully as he makes his way to the main lift, asking for your floor.

He taps his foot the entire ride up to your floor, annoying every single person in the lift with him. But he can’t help it; he’s both excited and nervous.

In a few moments, he’s changing the direction of his life forever, and he couldn’t feel more ready to start.

The door opens on your floor and Draco rushes out, followed by the happy sighs of those journeying to higher floors. He wants to laugh at their reactions, but the butterflies rioting in his stomach make him feel as if he could vomit right on the muddy brown carpet.

It’s not hard to find which desk is yours by the amount of trinkets on there. Files are precariously high in one section, and then the rest of the desk bar the cream typewriter is covered by snow globes and tiny figurines of landmarks from your travels. From this first look at your desk, Draco already has a sense of what your flat will look like.

You gasp when you see Draco standing in the door to your office, “Draco, you’re early for lunch.”

Draco walks up to your desk; his hands shaking through it all, “Let me make you pancakes.”

“What?” You ask, breathless.

“Let me make you pancakes,” He repeats, “I want to make you pancakes in the morning.”

“Really?” You sniffle; tears collecting.

Draco nods, “I’m still grieving, but I always will be. However, that doesn’t mean my life needs to come to an end and I realised that I want it to continue with you by my side so… let me make you pancakes every morning.”

Tears have started to fall down your face and you sniffle before speaking, “Okay. You can make me pancakes.”

Draco beams; eyes crinkling. He leans in close to you, whispering, “Do you think you can get off early?”

You grab your bag before he finishes his sentence, “Let’s get out of here.”

Draco holds his hand out for you to take. At the feel of your skin against his, a jolt of electricity runs between you. It takes everything in him not to drag you into a kiss in the foyer of the building.

He waits until he’s in the street.

Like a gentleman.

He waits until the coast is somewhat clear before pulling you into his side and drawing your mouth to his like you did last night. Your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you.

It’s not your first kiss, and it won’t be your last, but this one kiss means the world to the both of you.

Through it all, you’ve learnt to swim.

-------

A year later:

Scorpius is almost five years old when he visits his mother’s grave for the first time in his life. He had been less than three weeks old when she was buried in the Greengrass plot

Scorpius watches as his father kneels before her first; apologising for his absence and asking for her forgiveness.

But then he looks to Scorpius; where he stands with his hand holding onto yours tightly.

Draco beckons to Scorpius with an open hand. Scorpius staggers to his father’s side immediately.

“Hi Mum,” he whispers.

Draco’s hand is firm on his son’s shoulders; a comforting presence.

“I miss you,” he starts, “I know I never got to know you, but I miss you. I have your picture in my room, so I know what you look like, and Wellesley. I’m starting school soon; a small magic school with kids like me and I’m really excited. Dad’s doing well. He was sad for a while but he’s happier now and he talks about you more with (Y/N) who I like too. I want to come back, and I think Dad will let me, so I’ll see you soon, Mum.”

And with that, Scorpius walks away, happy to have finally met the mother had wanted to meet for so long.

Draco watches his son potter back to the still creaky gate in awe. You join his side; fingers tangling in his. “How are you feeling?” You ask, watching Draco’s face.

“Happy and in love,” is Draco’s reply.

*****

Muggle songs:

Johnny Ace - Pledging My Love

Paul Anka - Put Your Head On My Shoulder

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