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enam3l · 1 year

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It's Rockstar!Eddies Birthday and his s.o. has organised an suprise party. What is his reaction and who will attend? 🖤 ( PS: Love your work)

i love this one, it might be my fave request! so naturally i got far too into it and it's no where near a blurb!!

the wish (rockstar eddie x reader) ficlet / fluff / the whole gang / cute joyce

you can see all rockstar eddie x reader stories and lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie or the masterlist! and check out my new series love, lola

The problem with dating a rockstar was there was always a party to attend. Eddie was inundated with invites every week: post-gig parties, promotional parties, venue launches and old school house parties. After a couple of months of fame, all those parties just feel the same. This made planning what to do for Eddie's first birthday with you so difficult. There was no denying, your man loved a party but at heart, Eddie was intimate; he felt most comfortable and content with the people he loved the most.

For nearly all of his life, birthdays were often just another day for an Eddie Munson. His mom gone before he could really remember the occasion and his dad too wasted to remember the actual date. But with Wayne, Eddie's birthday was the only date he ever remembered. Frequently, Wayne often forgot when his own birthday was but his nephews was etched into his brain. Holidays weren't an option at his workplace and money was always tight. Therefore, every year before Eddie could wake up, the older man would go to the bakery the moment it opened and get one cupcake. When Eddie would wake up, he'd be met with a grinning Wayne (a rare sight) a glass of chocolate milk and the prized cupcake with a flickering candle. Despite being told not to, Wayne would scrimp and save throughout the year, any change found down the sofa or in a pocket was added to Eddie's birthday fund. Between each birthday he would gather an amalgamation of trinkets for his nephew, curiosities found in junk shops, cool t-shirts from charity shops and always whatever latest record he'd seen Eddie eye up through the store window.

Once the candle was out, Eddie would head to school and Wayne to bed for his night shift later. Ignoring his uncles protests, he'd save the cupcake for later; the pair halving it in the evening before Wayne went to work.

School was spent head down, quieter than usual in a desperate attempt for the student body to never know his birthday and draw more attention to himself. Once he had Hellfire and later the gang, this was still understood by them. The word 'birthday' wasn't uttered until the bell rang and they'd meet at the picnic table and pass some birthday joints around. Hellfire would club together to get gifts that would aid their campaigns, Eddie always insisted if they must get him a gift then it has to be something useful they can all enjoy. So they'd get a new manual, some figurines or cool dice. Then, nicely stoned they'd to Gareth's, curb their munchies with pizza and watch a film.

The gang entering Eddie's life was the first time people truly made a fuss of his birthday. Heartfelt gifts were bought for him and he could never believe it. Even now he struggles to believe he has people who know and care about him so much that they would spend money on him and on things he'd treasure forever and never buy himself. Then, a real party was thrown at Steve's sprawling house. A tradition held up even once Corroded Coffin moved to New York and made it. Birthdays were always spent in Hawkins. Although whenever Eddie returned back to the city, an unnecessarily extravagant party was thrown by the label. Eddie would watch the bustling room full of people he barely knew who were merely enticed by a the promise of a good time - but it was never his own idea of a good time.

Without fail, every years wish as he blew out the candle whether it be on Wayne's cupcake, a homemade masterpiece by the gang or a gaudy 4ft cakey monstrosity ordered by his management, the wish was always the same. Eddie wished to have someone by his side. Last birthday, the wish was finally heard. Eddie met you at the beginning of 89 and now November had come back around and he was about to spend his birthday with someone he was in love with, for the first time ever.

After knowing about Eddie's past birthdays, you decided exactly what he deserved. As per tradition, he travelled back down to Hawkins although this time with you by his side. Sneakily, you'd suggested spending the night before sleeping over at Wayne's so they could have his birthday morning together. When you attempted to slip out the house, you were cornered by your boyfriend, squinted eyes scanning your face in suspicion.

'Where do you think you're going?'

You put on your best poker face.

'Letting you have some father son time! Catch up with your old man whilst I do some errands,' you smiled innocently.

Eddie put on his sulkiest pout.

'But I wanna spend my day with my girl, for the first time everrrr,' he whined.

'And you will! I'm all yours just give me a couple of hours!'

You put on your sweetest face that he couldn't say no to, pecked him and swept out the door. You slipped away to Eddie's own house in Hawkins. It was beautiful and just very Eddie. Back in New York you now had an apartment together but the status of where you stood concerning his house was unknown. He'd told you how it had always been his dream house and one day it finally went on sale and he bought it. Eddie was adamant one day this is where he would have a family - when he said this you hoped it was with you. But for now, the house was the venue for this evening. No ragers or anything, you'd decided to have something special because that's what he deserved. A big meal sat down with the people he loved and who loved him the most.

For November, the weather was good. Nice, dry and not too chilly. So as you'd been with Eddie, the gang had been setting up in accordance to your meticulous instructions. A long table was set outside on the patio in the large garden, prepared with blankets and a bonfire blazing to keep everyone warm throughout the evening. The table set with candle sticks and various decorations; a banquet fit for a dungeon master. For weeks you'd pestered everyone in Eddie's life to discover his favourite meals and snacks and tonight, that's exactly what he was getting. Just an intimate night with his favourite food and favourite people, the only interloper was a chef you'd hired who had been amused at the bizarre and varying menu.

The house was littered with balloons and banners. The living area set up with a makeshift bar and space cleared for a little dance floor, stereo system set up with Eddie's favourite songs and patio doors wide open out onto the table and crackling fire. It was perfect, just right for the perfect man. The final touches were adding the name cards to the table: the birthday boy, yourself, Dustin, Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Max, Lucas, El, Will, Mike, Joyce, Hopper and Wayne. Eddie would do something with the Corroded Coffin boys when he went back to New York.

Admiring everyone's hard work, you practically squealed and called your helpers over. Steve, Robin, Dustin and Joyce had been working overtime on the whole thing whilst you'd distracted Eddie.

'Thank you so much guys, it's absolutely perfect. Better than I imagined. I hope he loves it,' your hands clasped together under your chin, giddy with excitement and nerves.

'Of course!' Robin beamed. Dustin nodded in agreement, 'It's so sick, he won't believe it.' After a quick see you later, they both went off to do some last minute jobs. Leaving you with Steve and Joyce. Joyce took your hand sweetly.

'It's really beautiful, Y/N... all of this. What you've done for him, I hope you know,' she squeezes your hand and gives you a loving smile. After he'd narrowly escaped the Upside Down, Eddie finally met the Byers. A kinship quickly forming between himself and the boys who he saw himself both in. As for Joyce, she took one look at him and tucked him under her wing - she knew when a boy needed a mother.

Steve nodded to Joyce's words and once she'd left he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

'She's right you know and she doesn't just mean this party. You've changed him, for the better. Healed something in him that none of us ever could. You're... you're the best thing that's ever happened to Eddie.'

You look up at Steve, the pair of you are teary eyed. You're barely able to choke out,

'Thank you. He deserves it. He's my everything.'

Eddie sat in the passenger seat, arms folded and eyes again squinting in suspicion as you pulled up outside his house.

'What are we doing here? Thought we were just going to Steve's for a drink'

You sigh tugging him by his shirt sleeve. He looked gorgeous when he wore a button up, well barely buttoned up - he let it expose a good portion of chest.

'So suspicious Edward!' you sighed, 'we are, he just wanted us to pick some CDs up first.'

He just shrugged and followed you through the front door, completely unassuming. You were glad he was behind you and couldn't see the smirk you were failing to mask; proud of how well you'd lied. The house was completely dark and finally you led him into the living area. The candles and bonfire flickered outside, illuminating the group gathered at the table. Eddie squinted then gasped, hand instinctively grabbing you. Everyone finally noticed you and jumped up,

'SURPRISE!'

Eddie's mouth formed an adorable little O. His big brown eyes wider than ever, sparkling with the candle light. Looking between everyone then at you, then back at them, stuck in a loop until you tugged him outside. Eddie absorbed everything before him. Every single person he adored and considered his family sat there, chatting away and grinning and they were all there for him. The table set up like a medieval banquet he would've conjured up for a D&D campaign. And he noticed it littered with everyone of his favourite snacks. He pulled you back for a moment of privacy, arms holding you tight against his chest.

'D-did you do all of this, sweetheart? For me?' His voice and face was incredulous. You leant up to brush away some curls, cupping his blushed cheeks.

'Of course! Well, everyone helped. Wanted to give you a special day! I knew you wouldn't want a party so...'

Eddie crushed his lips to yours in a desperate but sweet kiss, one that said I can't believe someone loves me like this.

'It was always going to be special... I finally got to spend my birthday with someone like you,' he whispered after breaking the kiss.

You chuckled although weren't quite sure exactly what he meant but you knew it was meaningful. 'Well, Eds you just deserved to see how much everyone loves you. Feel as special as you make everyone, make me feel.'

'I love you, so much Y/n,' Eddie's eyes had grown tearful.

'I love you too,' you replied, blinking away your own tears.

Throughout the night, Eddie's smile got wider and wider. His hand rested on the table, never letting go of yours except to eat. And each course he gasped, questioning how on earth you found out about this specific meal he liked. It felt perfect, spending a night like this, just being able to talk to everyone he adored. Now with his busy lifestyle, it was something he struggled to do. Once the main course had finished, Eddie frowned as Wayne disappeared and you quickly followed. He hoped his uncle was alright, Wayne was quiet and kept to himself so this must've been quite surreal. Although, after the whole ordeal, he and Hopper had struck up a strong friendship. Bonding over being solitary men with excellent moustaches who somehow found themselves being parents. Just as Eddie was raising from his seat in order to find you both, you and Wayne appeared in the patio doors.

Smiles lit up on both your faces by a multitude of tiny flickering birthday candles. The whole group erupted into song.

'Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday dear Eddie,

Happy birthday to you!'

For the several time tonight, Eddie found his jaw dropped. As the two people he loved must in the world approached, he took in just exactly what they were holding. You and Wayne had a whole tray of those special little cupcakes he'd make sure to buy Eddie every birthday morning. Wayne could see the moment of realisation on his nephew's face and they shared a look. His firm aged hand gripping Eddie's shoulder as he blew out his candles.

Before you could process, a frosty finger was smeared against your lips and you couldn't scold Eddie when he looked at you like that.

'What did you wish for?' You giggled, transferring the icing back over in a frosty kiss.

'Secret,' Eddie smirked, ringed finger tapping his nose, 'but for the first time in my life, I had to think of a new one!'

'Oh yeah?'

'Yeah,' he smiled thoughtfully, 'after all those years of asking, finally got what I wanted... you.'

'Oh,' was all you could manage to say.

You're sure you could hear your heart burst now realising what Eddie had meant earlier. All you could do was wrap your arms around his neck and he pulled you onto his lap. The pair of you giggling like idiots as you fed each other cupcakes.

This, is what Eddie wished for this time. To spend the rest of his birthdays now with you and hopefully over time, the table would grow longer with more family additions.

my taglist angels: @whoahoney @lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos @munsonology @mseddiemunson @kreepja

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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year

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*clears throat and offers double chocolate chip cookies to GP Reader* Hello Mrs. Barber, I hope I am not being too forward in asking you these questions like I asked your dear husband last week. What are your favorite parts of your smokeshow husband's body and personality? And do you have any dating & relationship advice for this very introverted but very romance obsessed woman? Thank you so much for your time, you are like the cool aunties I've missed hanging out with.

Summary: It's Baby Girl's turn (also known as Mrs. Barber) to answer a few burning questions about her relationship with her husband, the infamous Andrew Barber. Written from Reader's POV.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Girl!Dad Andy Barber, Discussions of Fatherhood, Mentions of Oral Sex (Man Rec), Fingering (mentioned), Lloyd Evans-Drysdale, Punishments (mentioned), Spanking (mentioned), Fluff, Cursing, Minors DNI.

A/N: This installment of the A Growing Pains Interview Series also contains a brief reference to my fic, Handsy, where I first introduce Mr. Lloyd Evans-Drysdale. For more insight into Andrew Barber and his Baby Girl, please check out my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. ___

Hello! Finally, a question for me! I’m super excited, let me tell you. I believe we already know the ground rules with this…and I’ve sent Mr. Barber out of the room so we can all chat freely. I’ll show him this later. Maybe it’ll even earn me a reward. This girl right here has been on her best behavior this past week, which means no punishments!

You even have my promise to keep the hot streak going. Scouts honor, folks.

Let me start by saying that I love my sweet Andy Bear, and I am so unbelievably proud to call him my husband. He is by far the most amazing and brilliant man I’ve ever met. He’s also quite the menace, and I say that with all of the love. Whether we’re talking about his body or his mind, Andrew Barber is a fucking force, you guys.

But at the end of the day, my man is foine as hell. Andrew is a luscious piece of ass wrapped in one big, well-proportioned package. And speaking of asses, have you seen his? You could bounce a quarter off that butt.

Quick fun fact: I tried it. It worked. So then I kept doing it. I even made a game of it which actually took up the entire day.

Although, the kids kept asking why Mama was “throwing money” at Daddy. So, I just made up some story about Daddy being forgetful and leaving his coins around the house, which meant that I had to try to put it back in his pocket for him.

But I had to be careful, because I didn’t want him to feel bad about being so darn forgetful. Worked like a dream. I mean, our beautiful Barber Babies bought that tale hook, line, and sinker. Even BiBi! She seemed suspicious, but then I caught her offering Andy one of her little wallets just in case he needed it.

He was so touched by her gesture that he did eventually accept it. And then went out and bought her another one, complete with a matching piggy bank. Well, it was more of a llama bank – which also happens to be her favorite animal. Where he found it, I have no idea.

Can I just deviate from the physical for a second to talk about what a wonderful father this man is? It’s not always about the big, grand gestures with us. In reality, it’s about the small, more intimate moments. Yes, our house is chaotic at times. We have four children under nine-years-old, so chaos kind of comes with the territory.

And he handles it spectacularly – even when he fucks up. Now that might sound a bit harsh, but if I’ve learned anything from this whole parenting gig, it’s that you will fuck up sometimes. And we both do it, but he’s a wonderful partner who strives to be the best Dad he can possibly be.

I love watching him with our children. He’s so protective and encouraging. He reads to them every night, takes them on “camping trips” in the backyard, and coaches pretty much every sport they’re involved in. I don’t quite get the whole camping business – I don’t do nature, or bugs – but apparently the kids do.

And they love that stuff. We don’t stay out all night, but we set up tents and tell stories and enjoy campfire snacks. Everyone stays up well past bedtime and my sweet little A.J., who takes after his father in so many ways, keeps me safe from “dah buggies” by sitting in my lap. See, Andy told him that bugs scared me, so it was up to them to keep me safe. Which is exactly what he does.

Lord, help me when he grows up. I don’t know if I have it in me to live with two Andrew Barbers. But I guess I’ll just have to keep them, won’t I?

Oh! And in case you didn’t already know, Andy is also amazing company at tea parties. Katrina and Rory threw one the other day. They had me deliver a special, handmade invitation and everything. He picked out a suit, brought cookies from the local bakery, and even sat in a chair that was much too small for his bulky frame to be comfortable.

But he did it all for his girls without so much as a fuss.

I snuck a peek and nearly melted on the spot. And when we finally got a moment to ourselves, you can be damn sure that I got down on my knees with the quickness and sucked the soul out of my Big Man’s body.

He didn’t fully understand why until I explained it to him later, but he also wasn’t complaining either. That man is the most delicious mouthful you could ever imagine. Mr. Barber is, eh, very well endowed. But I’ve also had ages to refine my technique.

And he is always more than willing to let me practice. It’s actually very kind of him. That man has the patience of a saint – unless I’m deepthroating him. But otherwise his stamina is pretty top notch.

That aside, Andrew Barber is so completely and utterly devoted to me and this amazing little family we’ve built together that sometimes I get overwhelmed just thinking about it. I’ve never been loved so thoroughly or so deeply before.

If I’m being honest, and I am, it actually used to scare me. And sometimes it still does if I let it. But I also accept my handsome ogre for who he is – the same way he accepts me for who and what I am.

Meaning that I’m a fucking brat, which I am through and through. It’s not my fault. My husband brings it out of me even when I least expect it. It might have something to do with that cocky grin of his, or that arrogant swagger he walks around with from time to time.

It makes me want to wreak havoc in new and inventive ways on a weekly, if not daily, basis. Andy knows this, of course. He claims he knew I was a brat from our very first date. I still have no idea what he means by that, so whatever. I just let him think what he wants.

But we have fun together. And the things we do, the games we play…

It keeps things spicy. I guess you could say that it’s really Andy’s mind that turns me on. Couple that with his dominant and possessive nature and hot damn! Sometimes it can be a bit much to manage, but this girl doesn’t mind being slung over an impressive man’s broad shoulder every now and again.

I enjoy being manhandled. If it’s with the right man, that is. And Andrew Barber is definitely more than enough man for me.

Anyway, I think that’s all I’ve got for now. As for your question about advice…hm. I would encourage you to just be yourself.

But also, and I know this is much easier said than done, try to make yourself step outside your comfort zone. I’m saying go crazy or anything, but it might be worth taking a small risk here and there. Occasionally it’s okay to make the first move – even if you find that idea terrifying.

With Andrew…I made the first move. Of course he tells it differently, and yes he may have seen me first, but I made the first move. Which was something that I had never done before. And I was so unbelievably nervous. At the time I found it so strange to be drawn to a person like that, especially with someone who possesses such an intimidating aura.

But being just a little brave is ultimately what led me to the love of my life. Don’t get me wrong. My palms were sweaty and my legs felt kind of like jello, but I just felt like I had to try.

And to this day, I’m so glad that I did. Because it means that I get to live my own love story. And while it’s not all a bed of roses, because we do have our problems, I do firmly believe that I’ve found my other half. And it’s because we continue to take a chance on one another and the bond that we’ve built every single day.

Whatever you believe in, things happen for a reason. And when you find your person, you’ll know. They will accept you for who you are and will work hard to love you the way you need to be loved.

Just take a deep breath and have a little faith. Take a chance. Take a risk. But don’t settle for anybody, man or woman, who refuses to see your worth, girlfriend. You’re much too special for that.

Signing off with love – Mrs. Barber

P.S. I’ll be your cool Aunty all day long, boo! I’m always here if you need something or if you have more questions. Andy Bear and I screen these things together, but nothing is really off limits with us. And I will always happily take advantage of any opportunity to gush about the love of my life. Even if he is a menace.

P.S.S. I also forgot to mention that I love Andy’s hands. You know in romance novels where they write about the hero having perfect hands with long, nimble fingers sporting just the right amount of callousness? That’s him. And not only that, but my Big Man’s fingers are absolute magic. Or instruments of torture. Depends on the day, really.

By the way, my husband has the most delightfully one-sided rivalry with my favorite Hollywood actor, Lloyd Evans-Drysdale. It’s so funny! But the other day, I pulled up this interview where Lloyd cracked this eyebrow-raising joke about “all of his fingering being accurate” and watched it in bed right next to Andy. And then I may or may not have made some comment about how some men ought to be more like him [Lloyd Evans-Drysdale] and maybe take some notes.

My husband didn’t like that. I got in sooo much trouble for it too. I mean, if you consider being held down, spanked, and then fucked within an inch of my life trouble.

Completely worth it.

And in case you’re wondering, the answer is yes. All of Andy’s fingering is incredibly accurate in its own right. Even more so than Lloyd’s. And this girl has had more than enough orgasms to back him up.

Also, Andy would probably also like me to mention that he is, in fact, taller than my movie star crush. And that he’s never had to wear a lace-front wig because his hairline isn’t receding. My sweet man can be a bit of a mental patient, but I do love him...

So, I guess I'll just have to put up with it. For now. Thank goodness he's cute.

___

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

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sunshine | part 11.

Summary: Y/N Riddle. Not much more has to be said. Life at Hogwarts when your dad is Lord Voldemort is an interesting experience. And four particular people at school make it even more interesting.

Warnings for the Series: THIS IS THE DARKER VERSION! IF YOU WANT THE LESS DARK MORE ANGSTY VERSION CHECK OUT PRINCESSE DE MORT

Pairing: Marauders x black!reader, eventual Remus Lupin x black!reader

Word Count: 7.4k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

Remus looked down when you suddenly clutched his arm. He patted your hand as you all kept moving. It was a shaky walk all the way to Gringotts. The goblin at the front desk didn’t say anything when you first walked in. You never had a Gringotts’ account before. It was almost laughable that you were a grown woman and this was the first time you had ever set foot in a bank. You put down the key that the Ministry gave you.

“I’d like to withdraw from my vault.”

“Name?”

“(Y/N) Riddle.”

“How much?”

You looked at Remus, not knowing how much anything still costs. He gave the goblin an amount as well as an amount requested in muggle money. The worker came back a bit later with a pouch of coins and a slip that said how much was left. Hermione and Ron scoffed when they saw the slip. You handed the pouch to Remus until you bought a bag. He pocketed the coins and bank key.

“Where to, (Y/N)?”

“Flourish and Blotts?”

“Let’s go.”

The bookstore was just as nice as you remembered. You dug around the pouch for three galleons. Each of the kids protested as you shoved a galleon into the palm of each of their hands. You shook your head when they tried to give it back.

“I’m your godmother, Harry. Godmothers give presents. Pick out what you like. Can I go look now?”

“Yes,” Remus said quietly.

They looked at Remus when you walked away to go look at books. He shrugged and told them to have fun and get what they wanted. They— Hermione— piled books into their arms. Ron bought school supplies. Harry got a single book for himself and then a book for you that he would give you later. You stretched to grab a book with a pretty purple color. Remus put a hand on your waist and reached up to grab it for you. You turned to face him.

“You’ve done that before?” you asked. “I… I think they took that memory. They took a lot of memories.”

Remus took the pile from your hands and took it to checkout. He knew all about dementors. He had to before getting a job at Hogwarts back in Harry’s third year. But, that didn’t make it any easier to see the effects in real time on someone he cared about. You took the bag of books and looked at what the children bought, telling them to keep the change.

“This is a good time. First good memory.”

The kids smiled at you.

“I feel.” You looked at Remus. “Better than this morning’s peaceful. It’s different, like sunshine.”

“Happy.”

“I missed this feeling. You smile when you’re happy, right?”

The kids and Remus laughed while telling you yes. You nodded and shark smiled. The corners of Remus’ eyes crinkled up again. He didn’t care how awkward it looked. He loved to see your smile, see that you were trying. With books acquired, the next stop was for clothes. You didn’t spend very long shopping. You weren’t happy about the fact that nothing fit because it wasn’t as if the way you looked was your choice. Remus took you to the bedding section for what you really wanted. You scanned every duvet and blanket. It had to be soft. Softer than anything you ever felt before so you would forget Azkaban whenever you were wrapped in it.

He and the kids were on a mission to help. They easily got rid of blankets that weren’t remotely soft. Others that had potential were brought to you to feel. Hermione came up to you with a blanket that was a blueish grey. You held the blanket, fingers rubbing the fabric. You nodded.

“I like this one.”

“Alright. Books, clothes, a blanket. Anything else?” Remus asked after paying.

“I’m hungry. Can I eat?”

“Yeah, we can all go eat.”

Remus tried to make it seem like a suggestion instead of a command. That was the next step for everyone, trying to figure out how to get you to stop asking for things that you didn’t need to ask for. It was scary how you were completely dependent. Fourteen years of rules. He was hoping it wouldn’t take fourteen years to undo. It wasn’t a good way for you to live and it was devastating that you became terrified if no one said yes or no. Dementors weren’t around but you couldn’t register it. No one wanted a repeat of this morning.

The pub was nice. Anything was nice to you. With the aid of his friends, Harry continued telling you school stories. It got quiet when everyone laughed but you. You found that you didn’t know how anymore. It wasn’t easy to mimic like a smile was. It was a sound that you weren’t even sure you could make. You noticed that Remus and Hermione had a habit of clapping their hands when they laughed. So, you looked at Ron— who had told the joke— and clapped. You leaned to whisper in Remus’ ear.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Ron told a funny joke,” he whispered back.

“How do I know when something is funny?”

“I… I don’t know. Everyone has their own things they find funny.”

You nodded and ate while they continued sharing school tales. So, funny was different from happy and peaceful. But funny was something you couldn’t figure out. When you felt not scared, you were peaceful. When you felt like sunshine, it meant happiness and that was when you should smile. Funny? You didn’t know what to do. An opportunity came up when Hermione mentioned the first time her parents went to Diagon Alley and were fascinated but also scared of literally everything. The table was erupting in laughter at the notion of Mr. Granger screaming when an owl landed on him as they were buying Crookshanks.

“Ha ha,” you said quietly after watching how Harry laughed.

His was the quietest and most controlled. It seemed like it was the easiest to copy. Your ‘ha ha’ made them laugh harder. They all gave you big smiles. For the rest of the time if anyone said something funny, the table tried to say ‘ha ha’ instead of laughing. Remus ordered a second sandwich and you turned back to him.

“Can… can we keep sharing a bed?” you asked. “I liked not being alone.”

Remus stopped eating. You looked away, worried that you said the wrong thing. He swallowed his bite of food.

“Yeah,” he tried to recover. “Yeah, we can.”

They all watched you stiffen up when a bunch of Aurors came in to get lunch— dressed in the Auror uniform. Remus watched you start to shake. He reached for hand.

“Can we leave?”

He didn’t say anything as he quickly got up along with the kids. Your head stayed turned as you watched the Aurors sit down. Remus swung an arm over your shoulder and tried to block the view. He could feel you shaking like mad. You didn’t do well with anything that reminded you of the night you were taken to Azkaban. You all stopped when you were far enough away from the place. Remus directed you to a salon. He motioned for you to go sit in a chair. The kids watched him pull out money and hand it to the witch at the counter.

“Give her the… uh, all the…” he pointed to the board behind him.

The witch laughed and turned to the other women in the salon. “It’s a clueless husband package!”

One of the other witches clapped. “Oh, we haven’t done that in a few weeks! Come on, sit here.”

Remus blushed at the name they called out, stuttering through a response that he wasn’t your husband.

“Please be gentle with her, she—”

“We know. Came out in this morning’s Daily Prophet, not too hard to spot her.”

Remus nodded. He escorted the kids out once you were seated. They all followed him around as he went to the Magical Menagerie.

“She had a cat,” Remus told them. “Small little thing named Missy. You know cats better than I do, Hermione.”

The girl nodded and went through the pets. Harry was furious at his godfather that morning but felt his anger dripping away. Remus was trying. Hermione came back with the cat she deemed as the calmest out of all of them. Remus nodded and paid. He told the kids that they could go home while he waited for you but they wanted to stay. They all sat in the waiting chairs, taking the water that the employees gave them, and watched you get a shoulder massage while a woman was doing your feet. They passed the time with the kids asking Remus a bunch of questions and him answering.

“Tonks was yelling really loudly,” Harry admitted. “We, uh, we heard what you said about fancying Auntie (Y/N). When, how did that happen?”

Remus looked over at you. The kids noticed an automatic smile spread across his face as he watched you sigh when the cucumbers were put over your eyes.

“The day I woke up to her caring for one of my cuts when I was too tired. She was always nice to everyone and cared even when we didn’t. She had no reason to help but said she didn’t want anyone else to be in pain. The basilisk in your second year, Harry, she knew about it. It was at her command and she could’ve used it but didn’t even after some of the worst things. All four of us kind of fell in love with her towards the end of sixth year.”

“Professor,” Ron said. They still called him that, it just felt right. “Are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t think so,” Remus answered truthfully. “I don’t deserve her and I fear she’d say yes, Pads and I are the only people she knows. I don’t want her to think that’s the only way she can stay with us— it’s a delicate situation.”

You approached them, showing Remus your nails.

“I asked for suns.” Your fingers wiggled the light orange background with darker orange suns on them.

“They look amazing,” he said as he grabbed your hand.

You all went home. When you asked to go outside before the sun set, Remus said he wanted to go with you. Remus didn’t mean to start tearing up again but neither he nor Sirius were going to be able to forgive themselves in a day. You wiped his tears and patted his head.

Comforting wasn’t something you were good at anymore but you knew all too well what sadness felt like. He kept apologizing for things that he couldn’t have done anything about. You tried to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. No one knew that you had never received a trial. They didn’t allow visitors to Azkaban. There was nothing he could have done.

Dinner meant everyone watched you sit with a blanket and a cat as you ate. The cat was a good thing for you. They had heard you murmuring to it whenever someone passed by. And the little creature was just a purr machine. A letter showed up to Grimmauld, not for you but for Harry. A few days later and you escorted Harry to his trial. The letter that came to Grimmauld was because he had cast a patronus charm outside of school.

As his godparents, you and Remus went with him. Remus left to go to a different department in the Ministry. Neither of you wanted to tell Harry in case it didn’t work but you were trying to get legal guardianship. Remus was going to let you have custody— you were wondering why he didn’t even put up a struggle. You understood when he said that he had fourteen years with Harry while you had none and splitting time was inconsiderate.

In reality, Remus didn’t want you tied to him by any means that you didn’t want. He could always see Harry whenever he wanted and it would be better than having to interact with the Durselys but he wasn’t going to have the Ministry enforce you being around him so he could be around the boy. He was just going to file the paperwork for you.

The officials overseeing the case got quiet when you sat in the visitors’ seats as Harry sat in the middle of the room. Your presence and how they messed up the first time made them very weary of how they approached Harry’s trial. Dumbledore and Mrs. Figgs’ words as his lawyer and witness were carefully considered. While it would only be expelling Harry and not Azkaban, they still wanted to be very careful. Some officials stopped paying attention to the trial and just looked at you. Of course it had only been a couple of weeks, nothing drastic could happen but they still wished you didn’t look so starved of everything. At least they could see the start of a person filling back out— partly because Molly tried to stuff you until you literally couldn’t hold food anymore.

The same pink woman who wanted to start a fuss at your hearing got her wish granted at Harry’s trial when she made it longer than necessary with remarks that you thought were stupid. Harry was let off with simply a reminder that if it wasn’t life or death, he has no business using magic outside of school until he comes of age. You jumped down from your visitor seat.

“Can we leave?” you asked the official.

They all knew about your condition, making everyone squirm even more at seeing it in action. The official told you yes while looking anywhere but your eyes. You stretched out a hand to your godson.

“Come, Harry, dear. Let’s go.”

The two of you left to go find Remus.

“You can still use magic,” you said.

“But the Min—”

“They track by house, not by wand. As long as you’re at Grimmauld, you and your friends are free to use magic. Just not outside the house.”

“Brilliant.”

Remus met you both, telling you vaguely that the paperwork was filed. If they ended up allowing you guardianship, you would move to a nice house where Harry could have a big room. You and Remus talked more in the safety of your bedroom that night. You told him that you wanted a job so you could feel like a better provider— Remus immediately said he would take up a better job and help you with Harry.

Jobs were questionable for both of you and he absolutely refused to accept your suggestions of letting you and Harry live off of your compensation, saying it was all yours to spend as frugally or frivolously as you wanted. He figured he would go back to Hogwarts. He had only left because he was worried that parents would protest a werewolf teaching but no one ever complained about his lessons. Students actually really liked him. He found that he actually liked teaching as well.

You didn’t know what you would do. You never got a chance to even work past cleaning Hogwarts. From school you became a spy and technically the Order did pay you but it wasn’t a real job. It wouldn’t be around forever either. But you didn’t think after Azkaban that you were capable of doing certain jobs that you might have in the past wanted to take. You turned in Remus’ arms. He looked down at you. He desperately wished to hold you like this all the time, that it wasn’t just because you didn’t want to be alone. But if the best he got was this then he would take it.

“Do you want to go to sleep now, Sunshine?”

You shook your head. Remus watched you put your chin on his chest and then put your head back down before repeating the action.

“What is it?”

“I…” you paused. “It might make you sad again.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“I don’t remember a lot of things like everyone else. They took a lot of memories…”

“I know.” He rubbed your shoulders. “It’s alright, Padfoot and I will help you.”

“I… I don’t remember any of sixth year except the sex.”

Remus’ hands faltered. He didn’t know they took that much. You looked at him.

“Was there anything important to remember?”

“Your father got you a bear for Christmas.”

You furrowed your brow. Christmas was at James’ house. You slowly nodded realizing there was a small gap in between being in James’ lap and then being in Remus’, that explained where the firewhiskey seemed to randomly come from. Your father’s packages must’ve included a firewhiskey with the bear. Remus wasn’t sure if there was anything else that was good he could tell you. His lip twitched when he realized something else.

“Do you remember the night you got hexed?”

“Which one?”

“After the pictures?”

“Mmm hmm. I came to your room and we made the deal again? I came to your room and— I only remember sitting in front of the four of you. Why?”

“Nothing,” he muttered.

He said nothing but you could feel his grip tighten. Remus wasn’t sure when they got rid of your memories but could only assume the worst length of time. They barely made it up to you when they tried to give you one sweet experience in the bedroom to make up for the year of roughness that they had put you through. And now you didn’t even have that. You settled down on him so you could sleep. He was left up thinking about how you only remembered all the rough spankings and harsh touches while you were alone.

The Order turned when you and Harry came home from Diagon Alley. You wanted to take him to get his school stuff— still asking before leaving the house. The stupor that the boy had been in ever since Cedric and the dementors almost killing Dudley was slowly fading away. Having you around was one of the best things. Everyone saw the way you doted on him as best as you could and how the boy ate it right up. Mrs. Weasley was a mother figure but she had seven other children that she had been focused on her entire life. Harry was yours as far as you both were concerned. You had time for him that he just didn’t get from others. The rest of summer was a healing of sorts for both of you. Harry made up most of the new memories you had— Sirius and Remus made up the rest.

You came back after putting up your blanket and grabbing your cat, Turnip. You sat down between Remus and Sirius and before you could ask, Sirius set down butterbeer and your lunch. He and Remus tried to be ahead of you in requests. You were still asking for permission to do everything so they had taken to being one step ahead of you. Food was given before you could ask. Sirius suggested showers and bathroom breaks once he figured out when you usually went— it was scary that it was almost the same time every day. Remus suggested going outside the moment he saw your mouth open. They figured that maybe if you couldn’t get a chance to ask questions, you would slowly stop.

“I spent my money today,” you told everyone. “By myself.”

“Yeah?”

They all became interested, this would have been the first time that you had gotten money out from Gringotts without asking someone first.

Sirius put a hand on your shoulder. “What did you buy?”

“I bought two things.”

“Big or small?”

“Very big.”

“Very big? Do we get to see them? Are they more blankets?”

You shook your head and shark smiled. “I bought James’ and Lily’s house, no one ever fixed it.”

“You bought it?”

“For Harry. I thought he might want it later even if it’s just to sell it.”

“That’s incredible,” Tonks spoke up. “What’s the other thing?”

“The cottage I wanted in Godric’s Hollow, I got good news.”

Harry was confused when you handed him the letter that Kreacher had dropped off before you both left for Diagon Alley that morning. He opened it up and read over it. The table watched his mouth drop open as he looked up at you.

“I can live with you? For real?”

“They approved.” You nodded. “If you want—”

“I want to,” Harry interjected.

“Okay. Harry and I are moving,” you stated.

“When?” Remus asked.

“This weekend—” You looked over at him. “We’re moving.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t ask you.”

“You didn’t.” He acknowledged.

“I didn’t… no more leaving rules.”

“Okay,” Remus said nonchalantly.

You nodded and stood up. “I’m going outside. I’m going to go outside and then get chocolate.”

They watched you set down Turnip, take your food, and leave. Moody laughed, hands clapping hysterically. The whole table erupted in smiles or laughter. This was the first real breakthrough that they saw.

The park was nice when you got outside even though it was a cloudy day. You frowned at the thought of potential rain. Rain was pretty but rain meant you had to be inside. You laid out your blanket and set down your little bowl of fruit and your drink. The bowl of fruit contained different cut up melons in the shape of stars— Sirius’ idea. You carefully ate the fruit and just sat there, content. The park added beautiful sounds and ambience to your sitting.

“Oh, no, don’t bother the lovely woman. Harvey, Mary come b—”

You looked over when two small lumps ran into your shoulder, making you jump to the high heavens. The small lumps were toddlers that were now sitting on your blanket as if surprised that running into someone would make them fall down. You gave a small wave that was returned enthusiastically. A very stressed young woman came running over.

“I’m sorry. It’s the first time their parents have been gone on a business trip and they’re really struggling with the adjustment.”

“It’s not a problem,” you said. “I can share my blanket. You seem like you need a break.”

“Thank you.” The woman sat down on the bench next to your blanket. “I’ve just been upgraded from day time nanny to full-time and, wow, am I not handling it too well— Oh, Mary, you can’t just touch strangers’ things.”

You didn’t try to smile in case the awkward look frightened the toddlers but shook your head and handed Mary a piece of fruit. Harvey began to whine until he was handed a piece as well.

“I have a godson named Harry, almost Harvey.”

The woman chuckled. “Harry sounds like a much calmer name than Harvey. Would you like to switch?”

“He’s fifteen.”

“Even better, he can cut his own sandwiches.”

You were grateful she turned to look at a jogger go by. You weren’t exactly sure how well your “ha ha” would go over with someone that didn’t understand. Mary had no concept of personal space. She crawled into your lap much to her poor nanny’s horror. You said it was fine. Truly, it was all fine. Neither baby shied away when you gave them a shark smile before thinking better of it. They just mimicked you like it was normal before digging into your fruit because giving them one piece somehow said they had free reign over the bowl.

Maybe that could be your new job, you thought as they took more fruit. Children don’t judge— babies. Babies don’t judge. And their emotions are simple. Your shark smiles and ‘ha ha’s would be fine in a daycare. You wouldn’t need complicated magic to take care of them— you were still struggling to keep your hand from shaking long enough to cast a spell. They said you’d eventually get the magic back. They said end of the year but you didn’t believe them. It felt like it would take a lot longer.

And you hadn’t really been determined to try and practice. You were still just trying to enjoy everything before they took you back to prison. Because you didn’t believe them about that either. If they threw you in so easily, why wouldn’t they take you back? Your father was still out there. Your spy cover hadn’t been revealed aside from the few who knew about it. You were still associated with Lord Voldemort and that was enough to get you your cell back you were sure of it.

Mary and Harvey waved their little fingers goodbye and gave you the same shark smile that you gave them. You chuckled, eyes going wide at the action. It was a genuine one. More of a snort through your nose but genuine. You understood what Remus meant by people had their own things they found funny. You didn’t realize what your smile looked like until the toddlers showed you and it was funny because you realized that you looked ridiculous. Today was a good day.

You got your stuff and headed to the muggle pharmacy to get chocolate. The lady out the counter observed you as you grabbed the chocolate. You were painfully aware of what you looked like still. You tried to push Azkaban to the back of your mind as much as you could but moments when people watched you made it hard. It was also during moments like now, as you reached for the chocolates which you found in the aisle with feminine products.

Apparently, the three chocolates that were most popular with women on their periods were put near the aisle so their panicked partners could easily get it for them along with whatever feminine products they needed. You haven’t had a period for a while. Dementors and not the best food tended to do that. More people had entered the store so you went to the pharmacy counter in the back where the older lady with the lab coat who was watching earlier gave you a smile, trying to seem as non-judgemental as possible.

“Um, about the…” You pointed to the feminine products behind. “When does it come back?”

“Are you in recovery, dear?”

You just nodded. How do you explain to a muggle that it was recovery from dementors not an eating disorder.

“It really depends, some people see it in literally a few weeks, others take a whole year. You’re best off buying a pack of what you like so it doesn’t surprise you and then just wait.”

You thanked her and left so you could pack your stuff for the move. Harry opened the door for everyone. They weren’t sure if they’d ever seen a smile that big on his face. They had left the two of you alone for an entire week after moving out of Grimmauld so you could get your bearings. It was two days before the kids needed to go back to Hogwarts and you invited them all over. Harry ushered everyone in. They looked around from the front entrance. The cottage was nice. It was painted in warm tones and all the furniture was warm as well.

“Auntie! They’re here!” Harry turned to his friends. “Do you want to see my room?”

The adults watched the children— plus Fred and George— follow Harry into the house. You came down from upstairs as Harry started to go up them.

“Sorry,” you said as you gave them all hugs. “I was changing into something with sleeves.”

They all shook their heads because they understood as you shivered. You held onto Remus a bit longer than anyone else, loving how warm he was. You directed everyone to the living room as you set the food in the oven. Tonks tilted her head as they started walking to where you pointed. She stopped everyone when you left to go into the kitchen. They looked at where she pointed to the sidewall of the front entrance right next to them.

“That’s the exact number of days she’s been out of Azkaban. She’s still keeping tallies.”

They all shifted uncomfortably and moved into the living room like you said. You came back with drinks for everyone. You seemed the same as when you left Grimmauld. But they all noticed the immense change in Harry. You sat in between Remus and Sirius and just listened to people talk. The Order was sending people on missions again. Moody shifted awkwardly.

“Do you think you can go back out there, (Y/N)?” he asked. “You were the best help we ever got.”

Sirius wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You were a great help back then but they didn’t want to push you. You started shivering harder. Sirius looked around the couch, spotting a basket of blankets. He threw one over your shoulders and another over your lap. You looked at Moody.

“I don’t want to get sent back.”

“I promise no matter what happens, we won’t let you go back there.”

“Alr—”

Everyone became alarmed when your eyes squeezed shut. Hermione came running downstairs followed by the others that were holding onto Harry. He was clutching his scar and Hermione was just telling everyone how it randomly started hurting when they were upstairs. Attention went back to you when you called Harry over. None of them could understand but they all knew what parseltongue sounded like. Remus moved over so Harry could sit down. They watched you pat the boy’s head as it rested on your shoulder.

“You hear him too, don’t you?” Harry asked.

“You shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t still be attached, the residual should have worn off by now.”

“Maybe because you were in Azkaban? It wasn’t strong enough to detach completely?”

“Hmm, maybe… I’m sorry.”

Harry shook his head. “I’m okay.”

You looked up at everyone else. “Should we go eat dinner?”

Slowly, they all sat at the dining room table. Everyone was unsure of what just happened, not privy to the conversation between you and your godson. Remus and Sirius relaxed when you told Moody that you couldn’t do it. But it wasn’t for fear of going back to Azkaban. It was because of Harry. You knew when they took you to Azkaban and a year later you heard whispering. The whispers turned into visions and you knew your father was still alive. Which meant there were a few horcruxes left that they missed. They had gotten the snake, the cup, the ring, the locket, and the diadem.

You never knew where the diary was. But those whispers had let you know after it was too late for you to ever tell anyone. And then you had felt that pain one day and, based on your godson’s stories, knew that it was the same day Harry stabbed the diary. But the whispers never stopped and the visions only got stronger and Azkaban gave you time to come to the terrible conclusion that there was a seventh horcrux.

And you knew the seventh. You were sharing a cell with it. You had arrived at Godric’s Hollow quickly after James and Lily’s death. Whatever created a horcrux that night had settled on Harry but hadn’t attached. And you had arrived to save him, presenting a stronger and more stable host than the baby.

You didn’t feel comfortable spying and being away after discovering that Harry still had residuals from the little time that he was sharing his body with a piece of Voldemort’s soul. The last thing you needed was your father figuring out how to manipulate your godson without you having a way to get him. You had already written to him that just like before, you were headed to America. He believed you. He thought it was best after Azkaban. He expected you home when it was all over but thought you should find yourself again. Whatever he was doing, your father didn’t know that you were a horcrux. He was messing with Harry from whatever magic connection he thought he had to the child. You couldn’t let it slip to him that you were able to see it all which would happen if you went back.

You stood on Platform 9 and ¾ waving goodbye to Harry. He enthusiastically waved back. The cottage was going to be empty now. You weren’t sure what to do. Remus and Sirius seemed to sense that when you got quiet as you walked between them. They stood at the door when you leaned against the doorframe.

“Do you really like Grimmauld?” you asked them.

Sirius shook his head. “Fucking hate that place. Can’t get mum’s old picture down for anything.”

“Do you want to live here? With me?”

They both walked through the door, noticing how you relaxed. You had a thing about being alone. You had been alone for fourteen years and found it hard to cope. Even when you tried to think about how you were alone at Hogwarts, it was just different after being subjected to dementors. And Turnip’s constant meows weren’t enough to make you forget that. Sirius and Remus packed up their stuff from Grimmauld in less than two hours. Sirius took the guest room that was downstairs. Remus didn’t get to pick. He thought he was going into the final guest room upstairs but you asked if he wanted to share with you again.

He was warmer than any amount of blankets and cuddling Turnip could get you. He left the room for you to take a shower while he and Sirius tried to get comfortable in their new home. When Sirius left to go shower, Remus went upstairs to find you sitting on the bed in just a towel. He immediately moved to kneel in front of you when he saw a tear slip from your eyes. You shook your head.

“Good tears,” you said.

“Why are we crying good tears?”

“I feel a bit happy.”

Remus paused. That was the first time you had ever said that you felt happy. You had felt good, often you would say that you felt better than peaceful. But recognizing happiness had never really worked— it wasn’t as easy as figuring out calm and peaceful. You nodded your head and shark smiled.

“We dropped off Harry today. It felt good, he likes Hogwarts. I’m happy he and his friends are going back to a place they like… it’s not a lot, just a bit of happy. This much.” You held up a pinky.

Remus laughed and locked his pinky around yours. “That’s a good bit of happy. It’s a brilliant amount of happy.”

You went to bed holding onto that happiness. You spent most of your days holding onto that. There hadn’t been instances that gave you any more than a pinky of happiness but you took the small bit that you got. The happiness was apparent when you did things for other people. Sirius said nothing as you handed him another new blanket— his room was going to be overflowing with them soon. Remus had already warned the entire Order behind your back that you had a thing about buying people gifts now.

He told them to accept it, it made you feel better to see everyone warm and comfortable. He was sure that it calmed you to make sure no one could feel an ounce of what you did in Azkaban. So people accepted the blankets you sent them, the books with notes, and the drinks you made Remus or Sirius charm to keep warm. It got to the point where the entirety of Gryffindor was shocked the first time they all got owl deliveries with blankets because you remembered that Gryffindor dorms started getting cold after the first month of school. And then you had to send blankets to your House, especially after hearing a boy from Hufflepuff died. And then you felt bad so you sent blankets to all the students… and the faculty. And then because Harry was your godson, before Halloween, a second set of blankets and chocolate was sent to his House. Everyone thought his godmother was awesome.

The Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione were crying from laughing at the fact that this was how you were spending your compensation from the Ministry. Remus and Sirius were the same way when Harry wrote to them about it and then they picked up a bunch of letters at the post-office from students that they didn’t even know saying thank you. When her said to spend the money you were owed as frivolously as you wanted, Remus expected the house to be overflowing with stuff, not you adopting every child in Hogwarts. Both men only stopped teasing when it occurred to them that you were taking care of everyone to make sure no one at Hogwarts went through what you went through, at least not completely alone.

The teasing did resume, however, when they found out you sent a personalized blanket to Cho Chang with a stuffed toy pumpkin and candy. You looked confused because Harry said he liked her. Were you not supposed to do that? Sirius was a mess on the floor because both he and Remus knew that Harry wasn’t that smooth to ever think of anything like that and you wrote in the note that he picked out everything. Harry, on the other hand, wrote back that Cho was wrapped in the blanket when coming down from the owlery and gave him a smile as she held up the candy box.

The only downside to being in the cottage was Remus only found himself falling in love with you even more. Every shark smile melted his heart. He started helping you keep tallies on the front entrance when you panicked that he saw you doing such a thing. Sirius wouldn’t say anything but every time he saw the two of you he swore it was like staring at a married couple.

He kept trying to push his friend to say something through subtle shoulder shoves and looks with his eyes. The man even started dating again just to push his friend. Sirius’ last relationship wasn’t the best and after everything that was going on with Harry’s school, he thought it best to wait until Voldemort was defeated to get back into dating. But because he couldn’t stand watching Remus pine after you but not do anything, Sirius started going out a little bit and telling you both about his dates. Remus didn’t say anything but slowly became more open with you.

“We’re going now,” Sirius said as he gave you a hug.

It was Moony Night, something that was rougher now that it was just Sirius and Remus. You and Turnip cuddled on the couch and read while waiting for them. It would be a while before they came back. You had nothing to do but read until they got back, not wanting to go to sleep until you knew they were both safe in the house. You heard the front door open downstairs. Both men smiled as they walked through the house to see two cups of hot chocolate set down for them. Exhausted, they gulped down the cups and placed them in the sink. Remus trudged upstairs, for once jealous that Sirius was on the first floor. He put on sweatpants and decided he was too tired to do anything more.

You set your book down and grabbed the pot of cream when Remus laid down in the bed. He held his breath as you straddled him to carefully rub the cream on his face. Part of him hurt at seeing there wasn’t an ounce of recognition in your face that you two had done this before. You only remembered cleaning his cuts the first time… before he made you ride him. That memory made Remus move his hands from your thighs and just clutch the bedsheets. He couldn’t help but think of it when you were on him. Despite the promise of forgiving himself, certain things would always bring up bad thoughts. This was one of them.

He thought of it as you leaned over to start dabbing cream to the scratches by his hairline. He was pretty sure you hated that day. He remembered not letting you adjust— they never did— but you clearly weren’t having a good time in that position. And then he denied you because Wormtail had suggested they do that for the entire month of December and pushed you off of him. It got harder to ignore the bad thoughts after your revelation that you didn’t remember anything but the bad parts of sixth year. You knew that you had become somewhat close to them in seventh year. You knew that sex stopped but you didn’t remember a single way they tried to make it up to you.

That pained him the most, the fact that you spent Azkaban thinking that they just stopped but never tried to apologize. He thought that he should apologize again. Because you deser—

“Can I kiss you, Remmy?”

His thoughts were broken immediately. “What, I mean why?”

Your face dropped as you quickly moved to sit up. Remus recovered and grabbed your wrist— not too harsh because he honestly thought that he could break you know.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. “I jus— you want to kiss me?”

You nodded. “You help me a lot. I feel different with you now. Like… I feel… like outside and the bookstore and the happy pinky, all at once.”

You dropped your forehead against his chest. Remus could feel the heavy breaths as he rubbed your back. It was genuinely infuriating that you couldn’t find words to describe what you felt. You felt like a toddler any time you tried to express an emotion that leaned towards the positive side. It was never a problem when you were by yourself or with Harry. But now this was important to you and you couldn’t express what you wanted.

Remus’ hands danced across your back. He was tired, and pretty sure he was dreaming, but alert all the same time. His hand slowly moved to your face, careful to only cup your cheek and not your chin. He was never going to say anything, never. Remus felt it was unfair. He would forever feel like he didn’t deserve a chance with you for a host of reasons. But you asked to kiss him. He was sure you also attempted a confession. And he’d be damned if he ever denied his sunshine ever again.

“I love you, too,” Remus said. “Merlin, I do. I’m sorry for everything we did to you and I don’t deserve yo—”

“Don’t say that.”

“No, it’s true. I don’t. No one in this entire wizarding world deserves you, sweet girl. You’re too good for everyone. I love you so much. Can I kiss you?”

He waited for a nod or the word yes— he’d never do anything ever again without explicitly getting your consent. His lips pressed softly against yours. Hands left your face to rest back on your waist. Smiling into the kiss, Remus added a little more energy. You dropped your head into the crook of his neck when the two of you pulled apart. Remus felt a gentle kiss to his neck. He held onto you as he turned you both to your side. For the first time in a long time after one of his moon nights, Remus fell into a peaceful sleep.

(Part 12)

#remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x reader

20 notes · View notes

dialux · 2 years

Note

congratulations on your wedding!!! pls: number 7, your hc about the hot priest (fleabag) <3

Thank you!! I think most of my hc's about the priest have been described in this Fleabag YT fic, but here's some more:

He'd never liked football or rugby as a child- but there was something to the slow summer patience of cricket that sparked in his veins: the muddiness of pristine kits, the move and countermove, done hundreds of overs in advance; the clotted cream his father always bought him when they went to the official training grounds to sneak looks over the fence.

His dad dies two weeks after his eighth birthday of a sudden stroke, and they move away from Somerset a month later, to his mother's native London.

It's a long and arduous shift for the young boy; he rather hates his new, scrawnier classmates- the air in London's not quite as hearty, his mother tells him dryly, when he complains to her- and how he's automatically shoved onto the rugby team, and the spider plant he's been wasting his pocket money on, trying to get it to survive only for it to die and require another week's allowance to buy another. It takes him more than two dozen plants before one finally survives, through some lucky mixture of sunlight, water, and weather.

In hindsight, the stubbornness that pushed him to keep plugging away at the damn plant was what pushed him to take up astrophysics as a major in uni.

Also in hindsight, the fact that all he needed was the plant to survive- the result that he wanted- to stop working on the project is evidence for why he eventually washed out of the PhD program.

(More than results, it's the methods that matter, in those circles. He's never quite got the hang of that.)

His sister is happily rooted in the land of the living, but he's always been a dreamer. It's what his mother calls him, even in her will; they open it up to see that she's told his sister to watch over him, and to be in charge of dividing their familial assets equally. His sister does do it, painfully precise, for all that he doesn't care- they sell the London house once they both make it clear they don't want to stay in the city, and place the vacation home in Cornwall and the ancestral home in Somerset into a trust, held jointly by both of them. The share of the profits off the London house is enough to support him through the first, stumbling years of priesthood.

For a time after he meets her, he has a dramatic, passionate romance with a man- the other man is just returned from a stint abroad to Australia, and it's all very capital-h histrionic: they don't exchange phone numbers in favor of dead drops, they send letters in code and invisible ink, they have long, lingering fights and even longer, languorous sex to make up for it. They don't know what the other does for a living, and neither of them makes an effort to find out.

He gets enough material from that four month-long relationship to write two self-help books.

For a time, he goes abroad to do some public outreach efforts for the church in Sri Lanka, but ends up spending more time learning how to peel a pineapple barehanded than he does preaching; it works out for a while, until some do-gooder reports him and he returns to England in relative disgrace. The church shuttles him away from London quickly, though he manages to pull enough strings to ensure that away from London also means towards Somerset.

But it turns out that he doesn't actually want to stay in Somerset: it's all a bit too close to home, to be quite honest, and comes with the added responsibility of his sister constantly needling him to look into their shared house, to do some property management and trim the hedges and water the roses and sweep out the chimney- all things that he'd like to avoid for as much as possible.

A year later, they shuffle him over to Wiltshire, and he settles into the small town and friendly locale with stubborn vengeance. Close to home but not too close; the perfect distance.

The stargazing nights that he starts are something he used to do with his mother, but that, too, had been something they did in Somerset; when their family moved to London, his mother had become too busy to do such things regularly- too concerned with being their only breadwinner- and the London sky wasn't friendly to stargazing much either. There are times when he'll be peering up at Jupiter's rings or pointing out the soaring curve of Capella to Aldebaran to some small kid, and he'll feel a weight on his own shoulder, his mother hunching over him like he's a child once again: cold thumb sweeping over the bared skin of his neck unconsciously, eyes narrowed in thought and memory.

It's funny, he thinks sometimes, remembering her as she'd been, in the quiet sleepy hamlet she'd inhabited orbiting London: It's funny where our ghosts live.

(He tells her this, when they meet again, decades later, old and grey and laughing in the quiet town that he's refused to be kicked out of.)

(She laughs back, but where her younger self might have kept quiet, or diverted the topic, or gotten lost in herself- this one, older, sharper, easier, says, It's funny where we see them, I think, and he swallows the whiskey in his mouth and lets the warmth flood through his chest: and it still feels like falling in love all over again.)

#clearly between giving updates on wips and writing mini fics i know my poison of choice #my writing #fleabag #hot priest #hope you like it <333 #aslddfhjhfdf peeling pineapples barehanded is totes from the rosamund pike vid #and somerset's bc they're a bit. um. focused. on the cricket.#attonitos-gloria #dialux answers questions

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kogameh · 1 year

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I don't know where else to post this so. Uhh. All Nintendo systems we've owned!

We never had any real console and have always been strictly handheld haha. We also missed out on the 3DS because of, uh, tregic backstory™ reasons, we just couldn't afford one at the time (same story on why I never owned a drawing tablet growing up lol)...so uh, character development? I guess? It's gonna take me multiple occasions to even tell the story behind them so I'm just gonna dump them under the cut \o/

GBA Micro - Actually the first legit game system we owned! A friend of my late dad was selling it with Pokemon Naranja (yes technically my first Pkmn game is a bootleg cartrige'd romhack...), which is kinda surprising because my late dad knew nothing about video games at all- He only wanted to give a Pokemon game to the 10-years-old me and struck gold with this haha. I didn't even realize this model existed after the SP until years later, it's so small and sturdy! The screen is noticeably more vibrant and crisper than the SP even. This later got passed to my twin sis after we got a GBA SP.

GBA SP - My late dad also bought this from a friend months after we got the Micro just so all 3 of us siblings would stop fighting over the Micro- Okay kidding but. Yeah. (Ironically we never tried multiplayer with both GBAs because no shops ever sell GBA Link Cables here-) Actually has a Lot of Pikachu stickers, though obviously the ones on the top lid peeled off. The only reason it has...uh, seen better days is that my older bro keeps playing in bed and most often than not he always fell asleep mid-game so yeah... Imagine the number of times it fell off... I'm still too scared to even touch it anymore because the hinge feels like it could snap off any day now jkasghsgfhasj

DS Lite - Let's just say I got this as a sort of "graduation" gift from my mom as we finished our final elementary school year haha. The funny story is: I never bought a legit game for my DS since day 1. The seller we bought it from bundled it with an R4 card being all like "oh yeah pick 10 games from our catalog and we'll "install" it on your DS! But ofc if you want to add any new games, do come back :D". Didn't take too long for me and my bro to discover the R4 has an SD card... And can be attached to our laptop...And we found out DS ROMs from the interwebs work with it....... So we never came back........... To this day I have 0 ideas if the seller underestimated us or is sabotaging his sales like this. This still works like a charm even today after I replaced its batteries :D Also this might as well be the first ever red-colored gadget I've owned and kickstarted my obsessions with them ig haha.

Switch Lite - Uh, my twin sis bought this with her own pocket money months ago. Long story short she basically bought it because her friends really wanted her to play ScarVio on launch with them lol. Of course I got stuck in that FOMO too haha-- Plus it matches her baby blue/turquoise laptop and Intuos tablet! Albeit the "turquoise" in this one is more Miku Green™ leaning-

Pokemon Switch OLED - Ah yes I hope you guys know that I worked 3 vacation-less weeks for this knowing that I'll never ever be able to afford this from commissions alone ahahhahahahhahahahhahahahahhahahahahahahahhhah 😇 Okay. Well. On a lighter note. At first, I was more interested in the Lite because I didn't like any of the colors from the reg Switches but then this ver was announced when I'm still saving up so I'm just "Eh. It has mine and my sis' fav colors (red and purple respectively) so why not." Didn't regret though because I LOVE how nostalgic the sticker bomb pattern at the back!! Reminds me of how I decorated my GBA even!!!! And the dock is so cool!! My attachment also adds up unexpectedly as I ended up liking ScarVio more than I thought euhuhuhu....

Honorable mentions: The PSP 1000. It's the only Sony we ever have and we never even bought it because..........someone left it at my parent's workplace and they never claimed it back for months so. yeah. played the hell out of W/inx Club out of it 7.5/10.

Also the N-Gage which was my bro's "GBA" when we had ours. The N-Gage was so damn cool y'all I've seen more people with an N-Gage than the DS around my area as a kid. Fucked up.

#kogami's diary #uh if you just dont like me posting this kinda stuff just lmk #but ive prob told you enough that im not rich :') and why im mostly overexcited about being able to get these (thats my only intention...)

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borderlinegamer · 9 months

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Fri, Sep 15

Our car is leaking oil. I don't know what exactly is wrong or how much it's gonna cost to fix but I'm exhausted. Things keep going wrong, why?

My dad has been a mechanic my entire life. When I was 16 I got my first car. It had stipulations. It was a totaled out 2001 or 2002 Volkswagen beetle in the color black. It was the car I wanted. It cost them $800 but the entire front end was missing except the engine. The stipulation was that I get a job, quit color guard and pay for all the parts and that I rebuild it with my dad. I'm positive my dad took some of my part money and used it for other things but it took an entire year to get the car built as he refused to do anything to it in the winter or put it in the garage to rebuild. It didn't have airbags or working seatbelts but it was finally built and drivable. It was only drivable for 6 months. It broke down a winter morning on my way to school. My dad refused to fix it and I had to buy another car which was a 1998 honda accord. I loved the honda so much. When my dad was getting siding on the garage the leader of the team doing it offered him a discount and some cash for the bug sitting in the backyard. My dad fixed the bug and took the deal without telling me. He pocketed the cash and didn't give me a fucking dime.

Fast forward to now and a few cars later my husbands car shit out on us. The transmission blew. We had 3k in savings and wanted to spend around $2500 for something old but reliable. We asked my dad to go with us to check it out in hopes he could spot something shady. My mistake was not realizing he's not at all reliable at the moment due to the divorce. He let us buy an absolute junker for $2400. First it was the exhaust, then spark plugs. We thought the nightmare was over and drove it 30 min to an odesza concert and the stupid light came on again. And now it's pouring oil in my driveway. We have maybe 1500 in savings. We are in about 3k on this car. My husband's not rich but wealthy has a million dollars in retirement and has bought the other siblings houses parents won't help us. My theory is because my husband didnt finish school when covid hit. The best they offered was an older Kia soul so his dad could make a business deal with the guy selling it. Not reliable at all with high mileage. These are the same people that were okay with paying a contractor AND his apprentice $300/hr to remodel their kitchen. The same people who brag to us about their millionaire friends paying for their entire wine country vacation while they griped about us asking for help.

I'm so tired. I didn't ask to be here. I especially didn't ask to be born into mentally ill ridden generational poverty.

*manifestation*

I will have money. I will have money to give us a better home and means of transportation. I'll have enough money so we can go on at least one vacation a year or to reduce my breasts to a comfortable size. We will have money and we won't have to watch your rich parents dog for only $200 when they were spending upwards of 1k a week to put her in a doggy hotel. We won't have to watch them not help us and also have my narc dad telling us it's our fault because we didn't wash his flea dog.

I want fucking change.

Edit: just got done cleaning out my car to get ready to sell. I drive a nicer 2012 civic but u haven't driven a long distance in about a year due to my ptsd so I figured we could sell it and get a nicer car for both of us to drive that's reliable. I had lent my dad my car a few months ago when his was badly damaged in a wreck. I found this present from him borrowing my car while I was cleaning it. I never noticed before because I don't really look up in my car.

My therapist asked me why I haven't cut ties, and I ask myself that every day. I don't know whether I want to die or him to die. Jesus fucking christ.

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brevium234m · 1 year

Note

What started your interest with coins?

Technically it started because I was really into chemical elements (absolutely obsessed about them) and I wanted to collect as many as I could. I suppose this stemmed from rock and mineral collecting, which started much earlier. Anyways, I was in high school (summer between grade 10 and 11, 2014), and thus a lot of stuff was inaccessible to me at the time, especially precious metals due to both me having little money and no knowledge of where to get them. I decided to join my friends on a trip to the flea market one Sunday, I had never been before. There was a guy there selling coins. I had seen plenty of old coins before, not too old but y'know we had a few stashed away at home, but the coin seller had a huge box of silver coins. I think my dad had a silver dollar stashed away at home, and maybe a silver dime or two, but I'd never seen piles of silver coins like that before. I sorted through them, dimes quarters half dollars and a few silver dollars, and I was intrigued by the obverse designs with the queen on them (I'm in Canada btw if you don't already know). There were some with obviously older variants of portraits on them, but there was one (used 1953-1964 on all coins) which really made me think. It was the youngest portrait of Elizabeth, and I had of course seen it on pennies and nickels before, but never dimes or quarters. Seeing the second portrait (1965-1989) coins made of silver in the box too, I realized that I don't see those coins because they were exclusively produced in silver while bearing that design, where the following design crossed into nickel coins. So with the second portrait, I would see no coins above a nickel older than 1968 in my change ever. Anyways this was fascinating because I was familiar with those others but not the silver ones at all. This also sort of sparked a greater interest of mine in money and currency, finance, economy, etc., in general. So back to the flea market- I bought from the coin seller a 1966 half dollar, which was a coin made of .800 silver, and thought it was so cool to hold such a nice little lump of silver. It became my pocket piece for the next few months. Made me think a lot about the value and meaning of money, about society and such. A few months later I went back to the flea market, and back to the coin seller. That time, I bought a 1952 silver dollar, which is the last year of silver dollar with king George VI on it (1937-1952). Sometime after this, I decided to see if I could get more coins with further back monarchs on them (I could double the size of this post talking about how that started and played out), and yeah after that my fate was sealed. In retrospect I can see I've always had some kind of interest, or not lack thereof, towards coins. So I think it was inevitable due to my nature of collect things and my interest in history and some interest in finance, that my interest and obsession with coins would materialize.

#this is long sorry not sorry #coin #ask tag #personal musings

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lovesanmotion · 3 years

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idol!dad!ateez in return of superman

A thank you gift for the 700 follower milestone!

Hongjoong:

- Would take his son to the company building and to his studio - His son would always be present backstage to his concerts and other gigs because he wants to let his son know that despite his heavy schedule, he loves him and is always thinking of him - The staffs would know his son - adoring and playing with him becaue he always brings him when he has the chance - Joong would happily take charge of how his son dresses, making sure he looks presentable to everyone - While Joong is rehearsing, his son would sit at the very front - And since I said the staffs adore his son so much, they would not hesitate to give him pocket money - Even the CEO who find his son so loveable wouldn't hesitate to pull out money from his wallet and hand it to his son - Obviously Joong would get flustered and return it but the CEO would insist and say something like "go buy him some ice cream"

Seonghwa:

- Like father like daughter, his daughter would be all about manners and being tidy - When the staffs brought food for the boys inside their dressing room, his daughter immediately pulled out coasters and placed them underneath their food incase they make a spill - The boys and the staffs would be warmed by the his daughter's thoughts and Seonghwa would be so proud - Seonghwa's daughter would think his company building is a one big playground that Seonghwa always has to run after her - "Aren't you having too much fun?" Seonghwa says, panting after he finally caught her - Wooyoung and San would always come over to his place and play with his daughter - Seonghwa's eye would twitch when he learns that his daughter's favorite uncle is Wooyoung

Yunho:

- Yunho brought his son for the first time to their company building - It was also the day he would record for their next comeback song - His son would get confused but wave his little hand with the people around the studio - Hongjoong would bring his son up to sit his lap and let him watch his dad sing - "Press this button and say 'one more time'" Hongjoong would tell him, pressing the little red button - His son's little pointing finger would press the button and say "one more time" just like what Hongjoong said - Yunho firmly believes that bringing his son to his workplace is the best because then would his son know how his dad is enjoying his job

Yeosang:

- While his wife is away with her members in a private resort, Yeosang brought his daughter with him on the first day of their two day concert in Seoul - Before rehearsals, Yeosang would carry his bundle of joy in his arms and every staff they bump into would stop in their tracks and would be in awe at the sight of his daughter - The staffs asking for a high five, fist bump or a kiss in the cheek to his daughter - When bringing her to their dressing room, her seven uncles would happily gather around her - Just like the staffs, they would ask for a high five or a kiss in the cheek - Wooyoung would be a little extra and would take pictures with her - While rehearsing, his daughter would sit in front, eating a lollipop and hugging a plushie that San gave to her - "Appa sing well!" His daughter would shout - Yeosang would have a smile on his face and wave at his daughter happily

San:

- San's son is a shy but lovable boy - Whenever San would introduce his son to the staffs of their company building, he would immediately turn around and hide on San's shoulders - While they are in the practice room, he would sit his son on the couch while he and boys practice their new choreography - While San's looking away, his boy would wiggle out of the couch to stand on his feet, stand on his tip toes to grab a bottled water prepared by the staff - Their manager would notice this and help his son reach the bottled water by handing it to him - Flustered, his son would mumble "thank you", bow, then hurriedly walk away - The boy's manager would be bursting in uwu's as he watches him run away after getting what he needed - "Appa I got you water!" San would turn around smile as his son would hold up it for me - Wiping the sweat with a clean tower, San would sit down on the floor, say thank you to his son and hug him before taking the water bottle

Mingi:

- Mingi brought his son to their group's first day concert - His son is just as hyper and active as him - While in backstage, his son would run to everyone and wish them well during the concert - A three year old wishing everyone a goodluck? Yep that's Mingi's boy - A few celebrities came to the concert but also decided to stop by backstage - So when they saw a cute little boy running around, they chased after him - When the concert starts, the staffs would prevent his son from running up the ramp and walking into his dad's performance - "My dad is performing?" His boy would ask, the flashes of bright light lit up across his face - The concert staffs would take care of his son for him - And when the concert ends, Mingi would be shocked to return to his son whose hands are filled with lollipops and pockets filled with candies

Wooyoung:

- "I'm the one going to be filmed later but why are you the one getting ready?" Wooyoung chuckles as he watches stylist noona comb his daughter's hair and tie her hair up prettily - The stylist tied her hair into four space buns and the rest of her hair flowing down her back - "What do you say to stylist noona?" Wooyooung would say to his daughter - Watching her turn around, she'd bow to her dad's stylist "thank you!" - Noona staffs would be giggling at how cute she is - While filming for their music video, his daughter would be sitting, eating pudding and watching her dad - But his daughter would start getting tired from sitting and place her legs up on her seat - "y/d/n, please sit properly" Wooyoung would tell her, immediately his daughter would place her legs down and fix her dress again

Jongho:

- While Jongho was busy filming for a korean drama, the boys would visit the set and would be in for a surprise as his son would be on the site as well - While the camera men took good shots of Jongho, the boys would take his son out to the convenient store and buy ice cream - Even though it was dark, Wooyoung would hold his hand while San and Mingi hold plushies in their hands - The plushies are there to protect them okay - When they returned back on set, they bought more than ice creams - Good timing because Jongho finished his scene and is already resting - While on break eating ice cream, Jongho would ask his son who are the members of his group - "Appa, stone uncle, plushy uncle, naughty uncle, rainbow uncle, pretty uncle.....and, and, nice uncle and dog uncle"

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 3 years

Text

Hooked

Summary: Harry and Y/n meet again. This time spending more time together and getting to know each other.

warnings/ disclaimers: Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of childbirth.

Harry was out searching for a book. He had left Loralie with his mother for the day since he had some errands to run and it would be a busy day. He had finished all of his books and he was on the search for another, maybe even some extra ones for his classroom. He had stopped by his favorite coffee shop and ordered his favorite black coffee to start his day of errands, then he went to the market to get everything for dinner tonight- he thought he might as well get it out of the way since he hates grocery shopping.

Now he’s on the way to a bookstore, he didn’t want to order it on Amazon or just go to a big chain store so he did a quick google search and found a small book store a block down the road from the coffee shop he had gone to. He wanted to find the book burning in water, drowning in flame- his sister had recommended it to him and now he was itching to read it.

He made his way to the bookstore, it looked like a homey place just from the outside of the store. It was a rust colored brick with two sconces on either side of the top of the book shop, a rather tall building- possibly a flat at the top. Harry looks at the cacti peeking through the windows, little flower stickers to decorate.

Harry walks into the book shop, opening the door making the golden bell at the top of the door frame sound off. As soon as Harry steps in he notes the warm scent, it smells like the owner had been baking cookies. “Hello!” He hears a cheerful voice sing while he steps toward the poetry aisle in search of the book. “Is there anything I could help you with today?” He hears the voice again making him turn his head. To his surprise it’s Y/n, he’s been thinking about her. “Oh, hi.” He says bashfully, smiling and stepping over to the cashier counter she was behind.

Y/n smiles, continuing to add price tags on the back of her new shipment of books. She had started her little business officially a bit after she had gotten pregnant with Milo. Milo’s dad had left her after she broke the news to him, they were in their early twenty’s (Y/n being twenty one and him being twenty two) so it was understandable that he didn’t want children yet but the way he dealt with the situation was just dramatic and too much on Y/n. So she put everything into her little book shop, she took out a loan and bought this place, starting planning and putting her all into it, it wasn’t easy but it was worth it.

“Hi Harry.” She says, adding a book to the stack. Harry blushes at her tone again, she’s hard to read. “Um… do you happen to have burning in water, drowning in flame?” He asks, whirling around her display of different styles and colors of bookmarks. He is a twenty six year old man, why is acting like one of his students who thinks he’s handsome? Y/n laughs, nodding while she pulls her mug up to her lips- Harry thinks it’s hot chocolate (and he’s right). “It’s in poetry, first aisle, third shelf, second row.” She says, impressing Harry in how she has memorized every single spot of her book store.

Harry gives her a tight nod, walking over to the poetry section and looking for the book. “Is this your place?” Harry asks, making conversation while the rest of the store is dead silent.

“Yeah, me and Milo live in the flat upstairs.” Y/n admits. Harry’s ears perk up, she didn’t say anything about a partner. He walks back to the counter placing his book down, not handing it over to her yet. “When did you open this place?” He questions, looking around the shop. He sees some crystals, some candles- that both look up for sale and also her personal ones. It’s cute.

“After I got pregnant with Milo. Right after Xavier left me.” She says, leaving Harry wondering. “Xavier is…?” Y/n sighs, rolling her eyes a bit. It’s only their second time meeting and she’s already giving him her sob story. “He’s what would be Milo's father.” She says, picking at her bare nails. She doesn’t consider Xavier Milo's father, he’s never been there for him so he’s not a father. Harry’s lips form a tight line, “um, Loralies mum died… so… we’ve all got baggage.” He laughs, trying to cut the tension.

Loralies mum had died, she died during childbirth. She already had a particularly painful and rough pregnancy with Lora and that was just extremely unexpected, Harry just thanks his stars everyday that his little one is safe with him. “That’s awful, Harry. I‘m sorry.” Harry smiles at her, “it’s okay. I’ve got my Lora so I’m okay.” Y/n nods, smiling and grabbing the book from between his fingers. “She’s a sweet girl.” She compliments.

Harry nods, feeling a little cocky over how well he has raised his daughter. “Is this all for you?” She asks, pulling out a small brown bag with the logo and name on it- they are cute. “Yes please.” Harry politely says, making her laugh under her breath. “If this is your first time here? You get a free bookmark with every book you purchase if it is.” She says, nodding over to the bookmarks. Harry nods, looking through the bookmarks and picking a random Fleetwood Mac one- cute, he thinks. Y/n adds the bookmark to the bag, setting it infront of him. “13.22” she says, Harry fishing his wallet out.

“Are you doing a lot today?” He asks, motioning down to all the books stacked around her while he hands her a ten and four singles. She shrugs, “the usual.” Y/n says, handing him back his change. Harry thinks for a second, pausing his response making Y/n a little nervous. “I could help?” Harry offers, setting his coffee on the table. Y/n gives him a questionable look, sharpening one of her eyes at him. “You want to put tags on books and reorganize with me?” She asks, making Harry laugh. He nods, putting a bookmark back in its place “see, I’m already helping.” He says cheekily.

Y/n smiles, shaking her head. “I guess you can help.” She says.

Soon enough they are sat on the brown carpet, mountains of books around them. Y/n has a blanket wrapped around her and Harry has his legs stretched out. Y/n is tagging books while Harry is setting by the book shelf closest to them organizing. “I swear they put something in the water fountain at that school, the kids are always running and screaming around my classroom while I’m trying to talk about how Van Gogh cut off his own ear.” Harry says, making Y/n loudly giggle, thinking about how Milo probably gives him a horrible time on Wednesdays.

“You like working where Loralie is?” She asks, Harry of course nodding. Loralie is his baby, he loves knowing she’s just up the stairs- especially if she were to get sick or hurt he would be right there to take care of her. “Yeah, I wish I could always be with Milo but one of us has to make the money.” She jokes which makes Harry laugh.

“She always comes waddling into my classroom screaming for me- which disrupts the class but I don’t care.” He shrugs, his mind going back to Loralie. “Oh shit, I’ve got to pick her u-“

“Hi! How are you, baby!” Y/n cheers, Milo running toward her then crashing into her in a hug. Y/n’s friend Mikaela had babysat Milo for the day while Y/n tried to get as much work done as she could. Usually on the weekends (like today) Milo will be in the store with her… which tends to distract her. “Um, I’ve got to go but we should do this again? Maybe… over dinner?” Harry asks, Y/n’s face lighting up.

“Are you asking me on a date?” She teases, Harry blushing and nodding. Y/n laughs, slipping her phone from her pocket, “take my number and we can schedule that date you’re begging me for.” She teases.

Harry gets her number, thanking her for the book and letting him stay before he slips out. Now he’s got to get back to Loralie. But he’s got a date!

Later that night when Harry and Loralie are practicing her memorizing her ABCs his phone beeps. He ignores his at first, just expecting it to be a stupid text from his friend Mitch, but once he looks down he sees Y/n’s contact name. “Keep going, bug.” Harry says, grabbing his phone from the carpet while they set on the floor of the living room, unlocking his phone.

Hii, im free next Friday :) let me know if that works with your schedule!

Harry laughs at her cute little smiley faces, trying to think up a response that doesn’t make him sound a thousand years older than her. The tip of his tongue sticks out while he types back his response, his eyebrows knitted in concentration.

Hello! Friday works, how about 5:30? I can pick you up.

He lays his phone back down and helps Loralie with her letters, pulling her onto his lap. “D is for Daddy!” She cheers, making Harry smile, chuckling and kissing her round cheeks while she squeals. Harry hears his phone ding, grabbing it and reading the response, thanking god she answered. He thought his heart would explode out of his chest. It was beating so hard.

That sounds good ☺️ see you then!

Harry got her to say yes, but now he has to deal with the anxiety of actually going on the date. What should he wear, where should they go? Should he be opening the door and pulling out her chair or is that not in-in dating anymore? He hasn’t dated since Loralies mum and his baby is two years old now, it’s been quite a long time since he dipped his toe into trying to charm a woman. He just hopes he’s still got it.

****************************

The day is here. Loralie is with her grandma so Harry can get ready for the date. He’s been panicking and running all around his little house. He showered and smothered himself in lotion and his best cologne- he wanted to smell nice for her. He was adding leave in conditioner to his hair (which he hardly remembers to do) to make it more silky and the curls look a bit prettier than they usually do- he doesn’t know much about hair, he just does what his sister tells him what his hairdresser tells him he should do.

He planned out an outfit, a pair of tan dress pants with a white tank top and a cardigan over it. He had thought over the outfit a bit too much, was it too casual for the date? Was the cardigan too much? He decided against his thoughts and layers some pearls on, sliding his rings on that were in a jewelry dish, placed in there before his shower. He takes a look in the mirror, readjust his cardigan before he gives himself a little nod. He feels good about this.

He makes his way over to Y/n flat, walking up the metal steps to her flat and knocking on the door. When she opens the door he notices just how amazing her home smells, just like her book shop. He needs to remember to ask her where she gets her candles. “Hi,” Harry smiles, looking his date up and down. She was dressed nicely. It was a sage green dress with spaghetti straps, it stopped a couple inches above her knee. Harry thought it was cute.

She paired it with gold jewelry and a black cross body bag. Dirty white vans to go along with it that added a child-like feel to the outfit. Harry thought that was cute too.

“Hi,” she smiles, glancing behind her. “You look nice.” Harry says, suddenly feeling hot. Y/n laughs under her breath, thanking him. “You look nice as well.” Harry smiles bashfully, looking down at his feet. “Thank you”

Y/n says her goodbyes to Milo, hugging and kissing him before thanking her friend again for watching him. It’s the same one from last week, Mikaela. They get into Harry’s car, a bit of awkward silent before Y/n breaks it, Harry stopping the tapping of his fingers along to the low radio once her voice interrupts it. “So, where are we going?” She asks, smoothing her dress out against her thighs.

Harry laughs, he’s not prepared for dates and for some reason he hadn’t thought about the most important part. “I’ll eat anywhere to be honest.” Y/n admits, looking through her window at all the different places.

Harry was looking around in a panic and he finally pulled something out of his ass that sounded good, especially on his teacher salary. “Olive Garden?” Harry says, trying to say it confidently but it definitely comes out as more of a question. Y/n’s eyes light up, she’s in the mood for bottomless salad and breadsticks. “That sounds heavenly.” And Harry is happy to hear that.

They walk into the busy restaurant, instantly getting escorted to a table. Harry is happy they didn’t have to wait- that would have just been embarrassing since he threw this together last minute. They sat in the booth, sliding in and getting comfortable. “So, how’s the bookstore?” Harry asks, pulling apart his breadstick. Y/n knocks her shoe with his under the table, she thinks it’s cute how bashfully he can get when just asking a simple question. “It’s good. How are your little art students?” Harry playfully rolls his eyes at her choice of words.

“It’s good. They are doing self portraits.” Y/n laughs, her eyes widening.

“How’s that going?” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “They look like shittier versions of Picasso’s paintings.” Y/n dramatically gasps through her laughs, “aren’t you supposed to worship the ground that man walks on? Why would you say that?” Harry rolls his eyes once again, chuckling at her. “I’m just behind honest!”

Their date goes on the same, they order their food, giggling while they eat and even getting into a little food fight with the leftover breadsticks. (They weren't being humble, they asked for another basket) They finished their food, “That was fun.” Y/n admits smiling. Harry nods, taking the check and opening his wallet. “Here,” y/n holds out her card, Harry shaking his head. “I’ll pay.” Harry shrugs her off, handing his card tucked in the black check book the waiter had brought over back to him before she can further protest.

Y/n scoffs, throwing another breadstick at him that he tried to catch but it’s too greasy. “Hey! I thought we had a truce?!” Harry questions her. She shakes her head, apparently swearing off the truce. Harry shrugs, thanking the waiter when he brings his card back along with their mints. “You better sleep with one eye open then.” Harry says, standing up and waiting for her. She laughs, standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. “I have a three year old, I basically sleep with them both open. You’re nothin’.” She says, Harry nodding his head in agreement. He knows just how she feels.

They drive back to her flat, Harry of course walking her to her door. “I had so much fun tonight.” Harry says, looking down before he looks up at Y/n. She smiles, blushing. She hasn’t dated since Xavier and she admired that to Harry tonight, they both admitted that they haven’t dated since their children’s parents so they felt a lot comfortable knowing they were both rusty.

“Me too, you’re a really sweet guy, Harry.” She says. She needs to remember to thank her forgetful little Milo for leaving his folder in Harry’s classroom. “Thanks for agreeing to go out with me. I was pretty nervous.” Harry admits a bit sheepishly. Harry is a bit giddy on the inside about them hitting it off so well, they were having the best conversation and at times they were getting extremely loud, probably annoying the people around them, but they didn’t care, they had fun. “Yeah, I was nervous as hell but I haven’t had this much fun in a while. Thanks for tonight.” Y/n smiles, leaning in for a kiss.

Harry’s eyes widen, but he still kisses her back. He hasn’t kissed anyone in so long he thought he had forgot how to for a second. His hands come up to cup her jaw, moving his lips with hers. “I’ll see you soon. Have a good night.” Y/n smiles, opening her door with red cheeks. Harry nods, a little flabbergasted. “Have a good night.” He says, trudging down her steps.

And now he’s hooked on her.

Tag list: @romionefp @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh

If you liked this please reblog and please tell me what you thought of it ☺️ thank you for reading!! I hope you all like the series so far I’m writing part three right now so it should come out soon ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

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wpdarlingpan · 3 years

Note

I have a suggestion! What about pan or jerome valeska kiddnaping the reader/oc? Ik its pretty basic, but maybe pan kidnapps her to obress Emma and Jerome kiddnapps her because he is fond of her appearance yk? Maybe a little bit yandere style.

Thank u I hope you like my suggestions!

Thanks for my first suggestion! I hope it’s good :)

Please let me know if there is something I should fix for later suggestions. Be it my writing style, or if you’d prefer me to make an OC for the story.

Also TW with just a mention of how Greenwood is charged with Rape and Murder. It’s only the mention and will not be brought up further.

Now on with the story.

Background information: Y/N is the daughter of Jim Gordon and Barbara. She isn’t associated with Barbra since she went slightly crazy. She considers Lee like her mom. Her dad is very over protective since he’s seen the dark side of Gotham. She is 18 years old and somewhat shy/innocent from being protected by her dad.

“Bye dad! Love you!” Y/N yelled out as she approached the front door of their apartment. She was hoping to leave before her dad could give her the talk she always got before leaving the house but luck wasn’t on her side. She also felt the teeniest bit of guilt for rushing out so quickly as she and her dad had a good relationship and she knew he was just trying to protect her.

“Wait.” He spoke coming down the hallway into the room. He knew she didn’t like the fact she had to go over rules before she left the house but he’d been even more nervous since there was a breakout at Arkham.

“Yes?” Y/N questioned.

“Got your phone?”

“Yep.”

“Charged?”

“100%.”

“House key?”

“Definitely.”

“Emergency money?”

“Right in my pocket.”

“Pepper spray?”

“Yep and with the safety on so I don’t accidentally spray myself... again.” She spoke while looking down sheepishly.

“All right love you kiddo. Remember what I said about those people who broke out yesterday.”

Jim spoke while lightly kissing the side of her head and let her go to school.

“I remember. Also love you Always and forever dad. Don’t forget you have a date with Lee later!” Y/N reminded before closing the door to make her way to the Gotham High school. Her dad had bought her a car so she would be more safe getting to and from school as he didn’t trust city busses or taxis. She didn’t mind though it was nice and she was able to play some music while she drove.

Once she arrived at the school she saw the cheerleaders loading onto the bus. She was a photographer for the yearbook and it was one of their first football games for the year so they send her to photograph for the team. She was way to shy to actually try out for it. Once double checking if her car was locked she put the keys in her pocket and made her way to the bus with her camera looped around her neck.

She got on first as the rest of the cheerleads were talking outside the bus with the coach. Y/N sat in the very back with her feet up next to her as a sign of ‘do not sit by me’ she was rather short so it was comfortable as well. She then pulled out her phone and began to text her dad that she was safely on the bus. He replied with a quick ‘ok’ and ‘be safe’ then she started to play a game on her phone as the cheerleaders began to load onto the bus. Once everyone was on the bus they drove away from the school at the cheerleaders were practice their cheers. The. Whole. Ride. It was beginning to get on her nerves as she preferred the peace and quiet but she knew that being on a bus with cheerleaders would be anything but. She grabbed one side of her headphones and began to play music. She lightly tapped her fingers to it and looked out the window.

They drove for about 20 more mins before they were stopped. A red truck had pulled in front of them and people approached the truck. She spotted guns in their hands. She quickly dialed her dads phone and begged for him to pick up.

“Y/N? What is it?” He could tell by her erratic breathing that something was wrong.

“There are people with guns on the bus! They just shot the driver. We are on (random Gotham street) please hurry!”

“I’m on my way! Try and stay on the line.” She said a quiet okay she a boy with red hair entered the bus. Jim quickly ordered police officers to make their way towards the scene.

“I want you all to know... this was a very difficult decision for us.” The boy spoke as he waved around his guns as if it was a toy. Y/N had already ducked down in her seat after a different person had handcuffed them to the seats. She wanted to stay out of of the seemingly ringleaders point of view as she watching her phone continue to hold the call with her dad and her headphone was in on low in order for him not to hear the phone. She still listened from her other ear to be aware.

“It was between you and a senior citizen bingo party.

In the end, we decided to skew a little younger.” He spoke while putting the gun to one of the girls heads. He walked towards the back of the bus as he continued his speech. She heard him coming and quickly tucked her phone into her pocket along with the headphones.

“Youth won the day. Sorry.”

He had reached the back to the bus and was about to turn around when he saw her tucked into the seat. She was very small and if he didn’t know this was a high school bus he would have thought she was a kid. She looked up at him with terrified doe eyes and he looked at her with a smile. He liked her. The innocence in her eyes that made him swoon. She clearly wasn’t like his whore of a mother. She would make a good partner.

“And who might you be.” He spoke while he used his charm. He lifted her chin up lightly with his unoccupied hand as the gun still rested in the other. She scooted as far away as she could with the handcuffs keeping her in place.

“Y-Y/N.” She stuttered out in fear. She was trying to hide not stand out. He moved her hand away from the start of the handcuffs and brought up his gun to which she began squirming at as it was raised.

“Shh, just going to get these off.” He attempted to comfort but it was honestly more frighting what was he going to do.

He shot the handcuffs and the bullet got lodged into the seat as she was detached from the seat but still had the cuffs around her wrist.

“You’ll be coming with me Doll.” He spoke while tugging her up from the seat as the cheerleaders continued to cry at the situation.

“No!” She attempted to struggle but she was too small to get away. But he held onto her. He tugged her out of the bus before giving her to Aaron. Since he didn’t trust Greenwood with his girl. Not like he trusted Aaron any more but he wasn’t charged for rape.

Aaron obeyed and tightly held her as Jerome put back on his crazy face and went back onto the bus.

“Give me an "O"!” He shouted to make fun of them.

“I said, give me a "O".” He shot the roof of the bus making the cry harder.

“O!” The cried out through their tears.

“ Give me an "N".” He spoke again with enthusiasm

“N!”

“Give me another "O"!”

“O!”

“What does that spell?” He questioned while greenwood handed him a hose that would spray gasoline out from the truck they had stolen.

"Oh, no!"

He walked up and down the isles of the bus and sprayed each and everyone one of them with gasoline while they all screamed in fear.

He finished and walked out of the bus and grabbed a lighter from his pocket.

“Ready? Okay!” Jerome said as he attempted to make the lighter work. The flame wouldn’t appear and Y/N continued to struggle in Aaron’s arms but for the man it was nothing. Dobkins was bouncing in his place with anticipation.

But it never lit.

“This is so embarrassing.” Jerome spoke harshly. He was making a fool out of himself in front of his girl.

“Anyone got a light?” He requested from the group of cheerleaders. Y/N was questioning if he really expected them to give him one since he was trying to kill them. He walked off after they all cried out a ‘No’ and winked at Y/N as she looked at him making her glance away hoping for her dad to hurry.

“I do. I got...” Dobkins replied while reaching into his own pocket to grab a lighter.

As Dobkins went to hand Jerome the lighter sirens sounded and police pulled onto the scene. She began struggling more as Aaron held her with one hand and shot with the other with little to no aim.

She saw as her dad got out of the car and quickly held up his gun. His heart stopped as he saw his daughter in the hands of one of the Maniax.

“Stand your ground, boys. They can't shoot at a bus.” Jerome smugly told the crew. He glanced at his doll to see her struggling still while eyeing one of the officers.

“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” Jim quickly yelled in fear one something hitting his daughter or the bus.

“Dad!” She yelled out as she attempted to kick Aaron but did little to no damage.

Jeromes eyes widened with surprise. Jim Gordon had a daughter? This would be two birds with one stone. He smirked as Jim looked panicked.

“Aaron, Greenwood, get the truck started. And pass me my girl.” Jerome demanded. Y/N was shoved towards Jerome who caught her with a arm wrapped around her waist. He spotted her phone in her pocket and tossed it onto the pavement so they couldn’t be tracked nor could she call.

The officers had ducked behind their cars as Jerome shot at them.

“We're gonna blow this barbecue stand, huh Doll?” He told her as he tugged her towards the truck as her dad tried to follow before he was shot at again.

Greenwood sat on the outside holding onto the bus with the hose.

“Light 'em up!” Jerome spoke as he turned around and made a round motion with his arm to Dobkins who struggled with a lighter as well.

Jerome laughed manically as he got into the truck with her on his lap to which she blushed making him smirk and they began to drive off leaving Dobkins with the police.

Soon they were out of view and Jim quickly drove the bus away from the flames that had fought when the lighter was dropped. He needed to get his daughter back.

Y/N had a blind fold put on her as they left the scene to head back to Galivants building. Once they arrived Jerome picked her up bridal style and carried her into the building. He was stopped by the man himself as he headed to his room.

“And whose this?” He questioned quite poshly. She couldn’t recognize the voice but it seemed familiar.

“My girl.” He replied looking Galivant in the eye with a murderous look, daring him to say she couldn’t stay.

“Fine. But she stays in your room. Wouldn’t suggest having her out here with Greenwood.” He spoke before walking away to his office. Jerome laughed at even the thought of letting Greenwood anywhere near her. He brought her into his room and sat her on the bed. He quickly locked the door with a key to which he placed in his pocket before removing the blindfold.

Y/N blinked to adjust to the light and when she did she quickly scrambled back on the bed, away from the boy in front of her.

“Oh Y/N your never getting away from me. Not now, not ever.” He spoke before laughing crazily making her whimper and her eyes water. She curled up in a ball in an attempt to shield herself away from the boy.

“Well Doll, welcome to your new home. By the way, the names Jerome. Jerome Valeska.”

Y/N began to shake, her dad had told her about his interview. She should have for the hint from the fact of his unsettling laughter.

She was utterly screwed.

Let me know if you’d like a quick part 2

Also, please suggest things to write 😁

#jerome valeska #gotham #story prompt #oneshots #jerome valeska x reader #jim gordon #male yandere #love at first sight #writing

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australiancarisi · 3 years

Text

Olivia Benson ~ Mother's Day

for @storiesofsvu one year bingo Square: Mother's day fosterDaughter!reader I have this whole universe in my head of Olivia with a teenage foster daughter that I've wanted to write for ages but I've never gotten around to it so maybe there will be more for this??? who knows... I just love Mama bear liv Words: 1264

“Y/n” you felt small poking on your arm. You groaned trying to stay asleep but the poking didn’t stop. You slowly opened your eyes to be greeted by Noah’s toothy smile.

“Yes Noah?” you mumbled

“It’s mother’s day soon” he whispered

“Yes” you whispered back. He climbed onto your bed, taking the wind out of you. With a huff you sat up, your sleep is officially gone.

“Can you help me?”

“With what?” Noah rolled his eyes

“With a present for mama!” he exclaimed. You had been living with Liv and Noah for just under 8 months after you had gotten caught up in the wrong crowd after your mother had died. You had managed to fall through the cracks at child services until you were brought in to svu. It was hard for them to place you and keep you safe so Liv put her hand up to be your foster mum while the case was at trial. It was only meant to only be for the duration of the trial but you were still here 8 months later.

“If I say yes will you leave me alone?” Noah nodded “of course I will. We can go shopping when I pick you up after school on Wednesday”

“But we meet mama at the precinct every Wednesday”

“Just have a think about what you want to get her, and we can hide it in my school bag”

“Promise?”

“Promise” you nodded

Wednesday came and it was your weekly routine. When the final bell rang you walked the few blocks to Noah’s school. He met you at the front gate and from there the two of you made your way the 16th, stopping past a little independent jewellery store where Noah had seen a necklace he wanted to get Liv. You quickly paid for it, stuffing it in your bag and getting to the precinct.

“You guys are a little late, thought I was going to send out an amber alert” Liv joked as you walked into the squad room.

“Yeah sorry, Mr Peterson held us back after the final bell” you rolled your eyes then winked at Noah when Liv wasn’t looking. The little boy giggled following his mum into her office.

When mother’s day rolled around, you woke up early to help Noah make breakfast in bed for Liv.

“Shhh Noah” you laughed quietly as he dusted the flour off his shirt.

“Mama’s gonna love this” Noah smiled as you finished stacking the pancakes on the plate before putting them on the folding tray table. You carried the tray for Noah who raced ahead to wake up Liv.

“Happy mother’s day mum!” Noah all but yelled in Liv’s face after jumping on her bed, wrapping his arms around her.

“Thank you my sweet boy” you placed the tray on the bed and, rather awkwardly, moved away from the pair “What’s all this?” Liv looked at you for a moment before turning her attention to Noah as he answered her.

“Pancakes! Y/n helped me make them! Oh and-“ with lightning speed, Noah ran out of the room for a millisecond, running back in with the present in his hand. “Open! Open! Open!” Liv chuckled and ran her fingers through Noah’s curls. Liv opened the small gift, that Noah had wrapped with a little bit of help.

“Oh, Noah it’s beautiful!” Liv exclaimed lifting the silver dainty necklace from the box “thank you my sweet boy” You leant against the doorframe to Olivia’s room and watched the pair together. They reminded you of you and your mum.

It had just been the two of you your whole life but you never felt like you missed out on anything. Your grandparents wanted nothing to do with your mother when she fell pregnant and your dad went away when you less than 3 years old - so it really was just the two of you. You’d spend weekends at the park or having movie marathons together. You’d cook together and on special occasions, she’d take you to see a broadway. It was the two of you against the world and in the 8 months of living at the Benson house, you had a feeling it was the same for Liv and Noah.

You subtly wiped a tear about to fall from your eye. Liv looked at you, either not noticing the tear or deciding not to say anything.

The rest of the day was spent lounging around the apartment. You putting the final touches on an assignment while Noah played in front of the TV. Taking a great from your homework, you made your way to the kitchen where Liv was making dinner.

“Hi sweetheart, dinner will be ready soon” Liv smiled over her shoulder to you. A moment of silence passed, you took deep breaths. “y/n? are you, okay sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah um” you took a breath to calm yourself “It-its my first mother’s day without mum...and I didn’t really know how it was going to go” Liv set the knife in her hand down, giving you her full attention

“I know y/n, I know how hard it’s been for you this past year and I knew today was going to be hard for you. Just know I’m always here”

“I know” you smiled “It actually wasn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be. Helping Noah with breakfast, it reminded me of cooking with my mum”

“And thank you for the necklace” Liv touched her neck

“That was all Noah”

“Amanda and I made a deal, since Noah, Jesse and Billie don’t have dad’s in their lives to help with this sort of thing we agreed that we’d help them, me with Jesse and Billie, Amanda with Noah” Liv explained, “Amanda told me that when she asked Noah about getting my present he told her he already had it, so I just assumed it was going to be something he made. I know he’s a smart boy but he definitely did not save his pocket money enough for this”

“It was nothing” you shrugged “But uh... speaking of nothing, I got you this” you held out a small gift bag. Liv smiled and took the bag, her smile growing as she pulled out a small teddy bear.

“I didn’t have an Amanda growing up” you chuckled “The first year I got mum a mother’s day present without her knowing I was 7. I saved my pocket money and bought her a teddy bear. She loved it so much, every year I got her one...” Liv’s eyes filled with tears “so I just thought...it’s stupid I know-“

“It is not stupid, not at all” Liv reached out and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you to her chest. “I love it y/n and I love you” you squeezed her tighter at her words. It wasn’t the first time she had told you that she loved you, but it was the first time that you were letting yourself believe it.

“I love you too Liv” you whispered, you felt Liv’s heart skip a beat as she ran her fingers through your hair.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Noah frowned coming into the kitchen “What’s wrong? Why are you crying y/n?” you hadn’t even noticed that you were

“Nothing’s wrong Noah, happy tears” you smiled at the little boy

“Come on Noah set the table dinner is ready” Liv said, giving you one last squeeze. Your life had changed a lot in a year, some of it had been hell but you were thankfully for what had come out of it.

#law and order svu imagines #law and order svu fanfic #olivia benson x reader #olivia benson fanfiction #olivia benson imagines #storiesofsvuoneyearbingo

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vdlest · 3 years

Text

Nice to meet you

Characters:

TFATWS Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:

The restaurant where Bucky always take Yori to eat with him is where you actually work. You've been watching and staring at him for quite some time now, but didn't have the courage to introduce yourself to him. But what happens when Yori asked Bucky to take you out?

Warning:

None

There they are again. You see two familiar faces entering the restaurant you are working at. You've been seeing this guy who is in his late 30s accompanied by an elderly for quite some time now. You don't know if they are father & son, or anything, but one thing's for sure, you like the guy. You like him even if you don't know what his name is, even if you have no idea who he is. His treatment to the elder guy is enough reason to like him.

No one is taking their table so you took the chance to finally have a closer look of the guy you've been liking for quite some time. Whenever they come, you are either busy with another table or assigned in the cashier. But this time, the opportunity is in front of you.

So you took it.

"Hi, ready to order?" you asked them casually, even if your stomach is getting butteflies inside it. Is this his effect to you? You don't know.

The older man stared at you and smiled, "Just call me Yori. I can guess you're calling me "old man" in your thoughts," he joked.

Yori's joke made you chuckle, "Okay, Yori, nice to meet you. I'm Y/N and I'll be your server for today," you said as you get the paper and pen on your pocket to get their orders, but still no luck from the man you've been eyeing, you still don't know what his name is, "What can I get you for your lunch?" you asked them, glancing at the man who's still busy looking at the menu.

"I'll have Fish and Chips, old man's been craving it since last night," Yori said looking at you. Good thing you were able to switch your eyes to Yori, but when he smiled at you, he must've seen you looking at the man beside him. Yori's smile made you somehow nervous.

You tried to act normal and turned to the man beside Yori, hoping that you would finally know his name by the end of this day.

"How 'bout you, Sir? What can..." you weren't able to finish your question for him when his eyes finally met yours. It was only a matter of time before you realized that this man has a gorgeous pair of blue eyes. You cleared your throat, "What can I get you?" you asked him, dismissing the thought of fantasizing about him.

"I'll just have Clam Chowder," he answers you as he handed you the menu, "Thank you."

"Would you care for anything to drink, then?" you grabbed the menu from his hand, "You should..."

"You should ask her out," Yori said to the guy beside him, making your eyes widened in surprise.

His reaction was same as yours, he's almost embarassed to what Yori just said. Your cheeks are burning red in your guess, but you tried to be as professional as possible. One more thing, you don't want the guy to think that you're into him, that'll make things more awkward as it is now.

"Yori," the man glared at Yori before he moved his eyes back to you, "I'm sorry, he's just really like this from time to time."

You are already getting tired of calling him "guy" or "man." You've been wanting to know his name but God knows how?

"It's fine," you replied then you prepare yourself to leave, "If there's anything you need from me, just let me know. Thank you."

"His name is James," Yori said as you turn your back on them, but you pretended that you did not hear it since you're already inches away from them.

Now, you finally know what his name is.

•••

When their order is finally ready, you took a deep breath before heading your way to their table. Things are more awkward now. You wished that you weren't their server so you'll just get to watch and like him from afar. Not like this.

"Here's your order," you tried your best to smile from ear to ear, even though you're feeling embarassed and a bit awkward already. You put down their orders and once you're done you told them to enjoy their meal.

"So what's a pretty lady like you doing here?" Yori asked you.

Oh, great, small talk, you thought.

You badly want to go back inside the kitchen and start serving other customers but you remembered what your manager told you when the customers make a small talk with you — answer them and interact with them, that way they'll have the will to come back.

"I'm just saving up money to start my own business," you answered Yori.

You could see in your peripheral that James is looking at you. As much as you want to know what kind of look he's giving you, you fight that idea.

"I like business-minded people. They are the best in organization and handling things," he complimented. "You got a boyfriend?" he asked you another question.

You shook your head and smile, "No, I don't. I guess that's the downside of being a business-minded, no one dares to date you," you joked.

"I think I'll take that dare."

Your eyes traveled to James who suddenly spoke.

"I'm sorry, you're what?" you asked him.

"You think no one dares to date business-minded woman? I'll tell you, what," he smiles at you, "I like accepting dares."

Is he asking you out?

"Just in case you're puzzled with his words," Yori joined the conversation again, making you look his way again, "He's asking you out."

"Really?" you asked Yori.

Your eyes moved back to James and the way he stares at you makes your heart skip a beat, countless times. Your fingers gripped on the tray you're holding, trying to contain your happiness.

"What time's the end of your shift?" he asked.

You gulped, "I'm out by 6."

"Great, I'll come back at 6 to pick you up, then," he extended his hand towards you, "I'm James Barnes, but call me Bucky."

You reached for his hand, "Nice to meet you, Bucky. I'm Y/N." The touch of his soft hand on yours answers all your untold questions about him.

Ever since you saw him, you kept on asking yourself what it feels like to be his girl, what it feels like to be hugged by him, what if feels like to hold hands with him, and what if feels like to be kissed by his lips. But now, the touch of his hand on yours and the fact that you two have a date later is more than enough.

•••

When he said he's gonna be at your workplace at 6, he meant he's gonna be 30 minutes early. You asked him to sit down on one of the vacant tables, when he did, he handed you the bouquet of flowers he's holding. You didn't want to conclude that it was meant for you, but when he handed it to you, your heart melted like an ice cream under the sun.

As you finished your shift, you and Bucky went on your way. He said he already had everything planned out, so he did not bother to ask you where you want to go. Well, that's how you like it anyway. You want to be surprised.

The two of you ended up in the nearby beach, before you settled down in the sand, you passed by some food stalls and that's where you and Bucky bought food and drinks for your date.

"I hope you like sunsets," he said as both of you sat down on the sand and started munching over the food you guys bought, "I should've asked you abour where you want to go, but..." he seemed a little nervous so you cut him off.

"I like it."

His eyes went to yours and now he's puzzled, "You like what in particular?" he asked.

You smiled, "I like all of these. I like sunsets. I like how you planned this night for us. I like it. I appreciate it." You handed him his drink, "I'm not expert in date ideas as well, so no worries."

He chuckled and that's the only time you noticed how cute he is when he laugh and smile, especially his cheeks reaching for his eyes.

"I haven't dated anyone in decades so that explains my old fashioned ways and ideas," you don't know what he means when he said he haven't dated in decades.

"What are you? A 80 year old man?" you joked.

"Actually a hundred and six."

You burst into laughter but his face remained serious, "You are so funny, Bucky." You sighed as you stare on the sunset in front of you, "You know, some of my classmates bullied me when I was in elementary 'cause they think I'm an old soul or something, so don't worry if someone thinks of you as an old-fashioned or something. It's not really bad."

He frowned, "Why did they bullied you?"

"Because they found out that I'm listening to The Beatles, Paul Anka, Frankie Valli, and not into Britney Spears or something trendy during our time," you explained. You took a deep breath once more, "I guess I just really prefer old and classic songs. I find them amusing and the words that they used in making them feels like they are really talking to you and your soul."

You could still remember back in the day, you asked your dad to bought you a vinyl because you were fascinated by it.

"So what's your favorite song?" Bucky asked you.

"Can't take my eyes off of you, it's really classic," you said before taking a sip from your drink. "That was also my parents' theme song when they got married," sadness took over you when you remembered your late parents, "That was also the song I sang for them during their funeral."

You felt Bucky's eyes on you.

You turn to him and nodded to his unsaid question, "I'm an orphan now. They died because of a car accident. And when they died I used to live with my grandma but she died ad well three years ago, that makes me independent from then on. That makes me alone and living my own life." You tried giving him a smile, "How about you? What are your favorites?" you changed the topic.

But even though you already changed the topic he did not let go of the fact that something changed in your mood when you talked about your parents.

"I know how hard it is to lose both of your parents. I felt them too," he reached for your hand, making you shiver, "But if they'd see you now, I'll bet they're proud of the woman you are now."

You looked down and smile, "Why do you even talk like you already know me?" you asked him. "You and I just met," you reminded him as you look back at him.

"We just met but I've seen you and how hard you work in that restaurant every single time I was there and every time I pass by it," he revealed.

All along you thought he doesn't know you exist, but he does. He's totally aware of your existence and he knows how hard worker you are.

"Don't feel bad for being alone and independent, 'cause you should be proud of yourself. You know how to take care of yourself without depending or relying your happiness to other people. Sometimes living alone isn't that bad, it will let you experience things that will taught you a lot of lessons in life," you felt he squeezed your hand, making your eyes travel to your and his hands holding together.

You learned from him that he's not related to Yori, they are just neighbors and he's just trying to help Yori as the latter is living on his own.

Once darkness consumed the sky, the two of you head back to your apartment, which is only a few blocks away from the place where you work. You asked him if he wants to have a cup of coffee, he said yes but before you guys could enter your apartment, he received a phone call. After he talked someone over the phone, he said he needed to go.

"Is everything alright?" you asked him concernly. You noticed the sudden change of his mood after he took the call.

He nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry I need to go but I promise, I'll call you and text you." Both of you already exchanged numbers so you just got to wait when he will call and text you. But you said to yourself you're not gonna expect anything, "I had a wonderful time with you tonight and God knows I didn't want to end our date like this but I just got to go. It's call of duty."

You don't understand what he mean by call of duty but you have no other choice but to let him go.

"Take care, Bucky," that's all you could tell him.

You could tell in his reaction that he isn't happy with the answer he got from you.

Somehow, you are telling yourself to not expect anything from him. In that way, you won't get your hopes up and you won't end up getting hurt and disappointed. It's better that way.

You were about to close your door when his hand stopped you from doing so.

"Wha--"

Before you could say a word, he walked towards you and closed the space between the two of you as he leaned in to claim your lips.

The sweet taste of his lips makes your knees weak, but his arms rescued you and gently pinned you against the door. It's not long before you kissed him back and enjoy the taste of his lips.

Last night you dreamed of meeting him, of knowing him, and tonight, you'll be sleeping peacefully as you get satisfaction of meeting him, having a date with him, and getting the chance to kiss him. What a progress in a day.

When you heard your neighbor coming out the other door, you pulled away from your kiss.

You and Bucky stared at each other while waiting for your neighbor to evaporate.

Once your neighbor is gone, he kissed your lips one more time. When he pulled away, he smiled at you, "That's the first time I kissed a woman in decades, so if it's that bad, give me the consideration," he joked.

"No," you shook your head, "No one ever kissed me that good before."

His smile grew wider as he gave your cheeks a caress, "I'll see you when I get back."

"Don't promise anything to me, Bucky. Just do it," you said before entering your apartment and closing your door.

Like what you said, you will not expect anything for the coming days or even weeks. You won't do anything about it. You won't get your hopes up and wait for his move, it's up to him whether he'll call you or not. But a little part of you hope that he will.

A little hope wouldn't hurt anyway.

-v.dl

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel #bucky barnes fluff

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spaceorphan18 · 3 years

Text

Head Over Feet (2/14)

After Kurt and Blaine broke up the second time, they went their separate ways, living their separate lives in New York City. Fifteen years later, a retirement party brings them back together into each other’s orbit, with surprising, for both of them, consequences. Are they able to fit each other into their already complicated and messy lives? And are these newfound feelings real? Or just echoes of a past relationship?

Canon Divergent after Season 5.

Ao3 Link

A/N: Since the first chapter seemed to be such a huge hit - I'm dropping this today. This was all originally supposed to be the first chapter anyway! Going forward, I'm going to try to update once a month. Thanks for reading - and I hope you enjoy! :)

Thanks to @snarkyhag for the beta. :)

***

Chapter 2: Loser Like Me (Part Two)

Kurt Hummel loves sex. He loves the feeling of strong hands holding his body, rough lips against his skin, and a hard cock buried deep within him. And that morning he had woken up feeling particularly horny. He isn’t sure what exactly he had been dreaming about but his dick aches to be touched. And luckily he shares his bed with a very hot guy who doesn’t mind taking care of it for him.

He and Ian have been together a little over a year now, though this moving in together thing is new and still taking time to get used to. Sex, however, is not an adjustment they need to make. Ian doesn’t seem to mind Kurt waking him up with a hand on his cock, desperate to be fucked. Ian might be a little slow to wake, but not long after they start, Ian’s already pulling Kurt to a quick orgasm; Kurt spilling all over Ian’s fist as Ian pumps his hips into Kurt from behind.

The thing is, as much as Kurt loves sex, he’s not one to draw it out. Kurt finds himself holding steady onto the bed frame, staring at the wallpaper, as Ian takes his time fucking him. And the wallpaper is incredibly ugly. Seriously. He knows that Ian isn’t the one to have picked it out, but it’s a striped puke-green, burnt-orange, and tacky-gold, left over, most likely, from a renovation to the old building from the sixties. It’s a travesty that it’s remained on the wall so long, and if Ian would just fucking come already, he wouldn’t be forced to stare at it for so long.

Kurt fucks his hips back a little, hoping that Ian will pick up the pace. He leans back for a kiss (that wallpaper is seared forever in his head, god) and gives out a little moan. It’s a tiny bit performative, but it seems to do the trick, and Ian’s hips finally begin to snap, pushing him to his own orgasm.

“Fuck, Kurt, I could wake up this way every day for forever,” Ian says, sucking a kiss to his shoulder.

The word ‘forever’ echoes in Kurt’s brain uncomfortably. Kurt turns in Ian’s arms, quieting him with a kiss. “Happy to oblige.”

Ian goes in to deepen the kiss, but Kurt pulls away. Now that he’s feeling a bit satisfied, he wants nothing more than to take a shower and get ready for the day. He’s got about a thousand things to do, and he’s eager to get started. Ian tries to keep him close -- he’s always wanting to make out after sex -- but Kurt manages to slip out of Ian’s light grasp.

“Shower time,” Kurt says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Mmm, let me join you.”

The thought suddenly makes Kurt twitch but he tries not to show it. What is wrong with him? His incredibly handsome boyfriend, with his disheveled dark hair and playfully pleading light eyes wants to join him in the shower for a possible part two of morning sexy times. But having Ian shoved in next to him in their tiny shower stall makes him feel claustrophobic.

He pushes past his discomfort to allow Ian to join him. He even gives in to a little light making-out. But there’s no way sex is happening in that bathroom.

They do their morning routine together, bumping into each other in the tiny bathroom. The sink is covered in bottles and sprays, creams and soaps, razors and combs, and they have to reach over each other to grab what they need. Kurt is normally a very organized person, and when he moved in, he took the time to organize a side for each of them. But since then, Ian’s stuff has slowly migrated over to his side, and Ian’s slowly been using the products on Kurt’s side. And mostly, he’d be fine with the sharing if things would just keep their place. However, he doesn’t say anything, enjoying Ian’s good mood.

Ian suggests breakfast, wanting to go to the little bagel shop a few blocks down. He asks Kurt to walk with him but, just wanting a few minutes to check his emails alone, he declines. Ian throws a look of disappointment but heads out, stating he’ll bring Kurt something back. Kurt tries not to feel guilty about it, and reminds himself that there’s nothing wrong with wanting a few minutes to yourself. Besides, Ian’s still excited that they’re living together. He’ll calm down. Surely. Right?

Ian being gone gives Kurt a few minutes to pick up the apartment. There are clothes discarded in the living room, where they had been left after starting sex on the couch the night before. There’s an old pizza box sitting on the coffee table, a few mugs with half-drunk tea, and a scattering of papers. And underneath a pile of Ian’s sheet music is the mail from the previous week, most of which is Kurt’s. He clenches his jaw as he goes through it, annoyed that he’s just now seeing it.

There are a couple of old bills in here that need to be paid, as well as a bright red envelope that looks like an invitation sent from McKinley High. He looks over the invitation with curiosity, though something else quickly catches his eye. It’s a jewelry catalogue sent to Ian. Specifically, a men’s jewelry catalogue. And Ian doesn’t wear jewelry. Highly suspect of it, he looks it over, and a growing anxiety starts to spread. This could not possibly mean…

The door slams shut and Kurt jumps from his spot on the couch. It’s just Ian home from the bagel shop.

“I got your favorite, multigrain with that fancy whipped cream cheese that you like,” Ian says. He hands him the bag and gives him a kiss on the cheek before sitting down next to him.

“You didn’t give me my mail,” Kurt grumbles, taking the bag. Then adds a quiet, “thank you.”

Ian shrugs it off. “I figured you’d see it eventually. I’ve been wondering when you’d open that red envelope. I wanna know what it is.”

“Oh,” Kurt places the bag with his breakfast on the coffee table and picks up the envelope from his lap, opening it. He gives it a fond smile. “I guess my old choir director is retiring. There’s a party for him back in Lima.”

“Well, that’s cool,” Ian says, grabbing the invitation out of his hand. “Quaint. I’m guessing you aren’t going? I mean, other than mentioning your dad, I’ve never heard you talk about your time in Ohio. Hell, I’ve never even heard early New York stories. All I know is one day you walked into my piano bar, a full grown man, mysterious and sexy.” Ian wiggles his eyebrows. “Hard to imagine you in high school.”

“Well, I can assure you I was anything but sexy,” Kurt says. A flash of a memory crosses his brain - one of a performance in a warehouse, lots of boys in blazers, and a really uncomfortable situation for young Kurt. He shakes his head, ridding his mind of it.

“So, are you going to go?” Ian asks, far more interested in the idea than Kurt is.

Kurt scrunches his nose at the thought. He hasn’t stepped foot in Ohio for a better part of a decade. There aren’t even people from high school he still talks to, not on a regular basis anyway. It’s sweet of Will Schuester’s family to think of him, but maybe he’s better off sending a card or something.

“I don’t know,” Kurt says, he stares at the invitation, unsure of how he feels about it. “I don’t know.”

***

Wednesdays mean that Ian is home all day. He is a classical pianist by trade and his day job is playing with one of New York’s symphony orchestras. In the evenings, he usually plays gigs at local bars. But on Wednesday, he has time off from both jobs to be home all day. Wednesday used to be the day where Kurt spent all his time with Ian. Now that they live together, Kurt usually spends his Wednesday anywhere but home.

It usually lands him at his own job, running a small theater that he co-owns with his old friend, Elliott Gilbert. Technically, Elliott’s rich grandmother’s money bought the theater, and Kurt had been brought on to manage the projects and productions that happened there. It’s still quite a work in progress, as the building had been nearly condemned when they originally bought it a few years earlier. But with all their hard work, they’re beginning to draw in better productions, and this might be the first year they actually draw a profit.

When he gets in that afternoon, he finds Elliott up in the rafters, working on some of the lights. Kurt watches for a moment as Elliott finishes whatever he’s working on. It’s hard to say, but he has the toolbox with him, so Kurt can only guess it has to do with the lights nearly coming down the other night. They really need to get an electrician in, but Elliott’s pretty handy about these things, and will at least try to do what he can before they have to ask for help.

Kurt watches a good few minutes as Elliott finishes up and comes down the ladder.

“You’re being quiet,” Elliott says, carefully bringing down the toolbox as he reaches the bottom of the ladder. Kurt, hands in pockets, just gives a gentle shrug. “You’re not usually quiet, which means it can only be one of a few things. Something’s up with your dad. You want a favor. Or it’s boyfriend problems.”

“Well, my dad is fine, and I don’t need anything,” Kurt says. “So….”

Elliott lets out a heavy sigh, and places the toolbox on the ground. “It wouldn’t kill you to go to therapy, you know.”

“You’re not my therapist?”

“Alright, so this session is going to cost you three-hundred dollars,” Elliott looks at his watch. “You have twenty minutes. Go.”

Kurt lets out a laugh as he follows Elliott to the edge of the stage. Elliott jumps off but Kurt lowers himself to sit on the edge, his legs hanging off. Elliott makes a shrug for Kurt to get on with it.

“So, I was going through some mail, and I found this jewelry catalogue. It had a lot of men’s engagement rings,” Kurt says. Elliott makes a face as if to say ‘and…?’ Kurt purses his lips. “I think Ian might ask me to marry him.”

“Have you guys even talked about marriage?”

“Definitely not.”

Elliott doesn’t seem at all convinced. “Maybe it was just an ad then. I get shit like that all the time. I somehow managed to be subscribed to a women’s lingerie catalogue for years.”

Kurt still can’t rid himself of the low-level anxiety he’s been feeling about it all day. “Even so, I just… don’t like the idea.”

“I thought you and Ian were doing great?”

“We are, we are,” Kurt says. Elliott, again, doesn’t seem convinced. “Ian’s in the honeymoon stage of wanting to do everything together, and I don’t know. We’ve been together for a year. We know how we are. Do we really need to do everything together now that we live together?”

Elliott folds his arms across his chest. “Kurt, if this is becoming an issue, why did you agree to move in with him in the first place?”

Kurt stares up at the ceilings. The old, red curtains have a few fringes and tears, and Kurt wonders vaguely, if they should get new ones or if anyone would really notice. He kicks the stage lightly as he avoids Elliott’s question. “I mean, my apartment lease was up, and they were going to double my rent.”

“Oh, god,” Elliott chokes out. “Please tell me that wasn’t the only reason.”

“It’s not,” his voice squeaks a little too much on the words. “I also, you know, love him.”

Elliott shakes his head. Kurt knows judgment when he sees it. “This is just classic Kurt,” he says.

“You know, there’s nothing wrong with having an adjustment period with having to live with someone after I’ve had my own place for so long,” Kurt says, defending himself.

“Uh-huh.”

“I just like my independence.”

Elliott’s eyebrow is arched high. “Or you like sabotaging your relationships.”

Kurt scoffs, looking off to the side of the stage. They’re going to need to scrub this whole place down before allowing anyone to do a production here again. Elliott, however, is not letting him off the hook, and eyes him hard. “I do not do that.”

“Then why have I seen you more in the past couple of weeks than you’ve probably seen him?”

It’s a fair question, Kurt admits to himself. “Well, I do find you tolerable.”

“Kurt, you don’t find any of your boyfriends tolerable,” Elliott says. He almost sounds annoyed, but he knows Elliott’s limits and he knows he hasn’t reached them. But truth be told, he’s as sick of himself as Elliott probably is. “Who was that guy before Ian? That Matt guy? Why did you break up with him?”

He picked the scab, of course Elliott is going to rip open the old wounds. “Because he wanted me to be ‘a part of the family’,” Kurt replies, using air quotes to highlight his point. Matt had been a sweet guy, but his family had been his life. He hadn’t been ready to be a part of any family, let alone one that had been as close as Matt’s had been. He felt as if he had been suffocating every time they went to visit. “His family was crazy. I didn’t need to be a part of that.”

Elliott nods, continuing on. “Okay, and Joey was the one before that. I remember him because he helped clean up this place when we bought it.”

Kurt bites his lip. He did feel bad about that. Joey had been so quick to offer his time. But Joey also had been there. All the time. It had been too much. “He was super clingy,” Kurt says quietly, though he hates that he’s seeing the trend.

“Sure he was,” Elliott says. A grin slips onto his lips. “And then there was Steven.”

“He wanted to marry me six months into the relationship,” Kurt says. He snaps a little too loud, his voice echoing in the empty theater. Elliott remains amused, even if Kurt is not. “Who knows they want to get married six months into a relationship? Why are you getting on my case about this? It’s not like you don’t go through, like, three guys a week.”

Elliott throws his head back in a laugh. “Well, I am at peace with my slutty ways. Look, Kurt, it’s not about the number of guys you go through. It’s just that, well, honestly, I’ve known you forever. And I know you’re this old school romantic and the slutty ways will never be satisfying for you. Did it ever occur to you that the reason it doesn’t work out with these guys is not because you’re this progressive independent, but because deep down you want to be an old school married, and haven’t found the right person to be with yet?”

The gnawing pit in his stomach starts to fade as he thinks about the old fantasy -- the one he had as a kid, where you met your prince, and you lived happily ever after. Only, real life doesn’t happen like that. Most guys are not princes, and the ones who are don’t always lead to happily ever after. He knows better than to be unrealistic, but maybe he’s pushing people too far away.

“Do you think I’ve made a mistake?” Kurt asks, he begins bouncing his foot against the stage again.

Elliott goes soft in deposition. “You know I can’t answer that for you.”

“You’re probably right,” Kurt says. He thinks of Ian - of his kind smile and good heart. He shouldn’t be running, even if every ounce of him feels like it’s too much. “Ian is a good guy, and I’ve been…”

“Difficult?”

“I was going to say myself, but thank you.”

“I do my best.” Elliott playfully taps his knee. “If you want, though, you can crash at my place for a few days. I’m gonna be out of town. Some third cousin is getting married, and Mom insists that everyone be there.”

“No, I’m good,” Kurt insists. And then an idea hits him. “You know, I got an invitation to go back to Lima. Old high school choir thing. Maybe I’ll take a long vacation and do that. It could give me some time to clear my head -- reflect on my questionable life choices.”

Elliott gives a hearty laugh. “You haven’t talked about Lima in years. Besides, going back to Lima might force you to dig into your past, and we all know how much you enjoy doing that.”

Kurt swats at Elliott. “It’ll be fine. What’s the worst that can happen?”

***

After work, Kurt doesn’t go home right away. Instead, he opts to walk around the city for a while. There’s a slight chill, causing him to bundle his jacket a little tighter, and the sky is overcast, threatening a storm rolling in. He won’t be out too late, but he knows Ian is back home waiting for him and he’s just not ready for it yet.

His conversation with Elliott plays over in his head. He does like his independence. He always has. Even when he had been a little boy, his parents had let him play on his own. And after years of rejection from kids his own age, he learned that sometimes being on your own is your best bet. It’s not that he doesn’t like the company his boyfriends have brought him over the years. He just likes his space. And his peace and quiet. And his room to move about as he pleases. And sometimes boyfriends make him feel too tied down.

But he can’t help but think about what Elliott had said. The thing that seems to stick in his brain, wiggling to the forefront of his thoughts. Maybe he wants to be an old married? Maybe he does want that connection, that one person who seems to know him, who understands him enough that there will be days when they’re inseparable, and days when they’re apart. He likes the idea of coming home to the same face every day to see someone who can read him like a book, who will enjoy the same things as him, who will love him for the insufferable human being he always seems to be.

But are there really people out there like that?

Maybe he’s not giving Ian enough credit. When they had decided to move in together, Kurt thought it had been the most optimal choice. Living costs would come down. He’d have a partner to spend his time with. And the sex. God, Ian knows how to have sex.

But permanently? The buzz of anxiety begins to grow at the thought. There are too many little things about Ian, too many things about himself that just don’t feel right. It’s not perfect. Well -- it’s never going to be perfect, he argues with himself. But still…

The storm breaks sooner than Kurt expects, a sudden heavy rain coming down. Kurt stands on the street corner, looking up at the sky as he gets drenched. Maybe the universe is trying to tell him something, and he can’t help but laugh as the rain splashes his face.

Just as he’s about to head home, however, he catches a sign on the corner of a building. A sign advertising an open leasing on a loft, with a number attached. For a moment, he’s transferred back in time to all those years ago, when he lived in a loft in Bushwick with four other people all of whom had been trying to make it in the city. He hasn’t thought about that loft in ages. Hasn’t thought about those people in ages. God, what even happened to…

He tries hard not to think of the name that first pops in his head. But he can’t help but see the face. He shakes his head, as if attempting to get rid of the image.

Nostalgia hits him just then.

Nostalgia for a place he left long ago, for people whom he never thought he’d miss. He is going to take that trip to Lima. He does need a break from Ian. He does need to get his life sorted out. But mostly, he feels a soft ache for returning home -- even if he’s not sure where that is anymore.

***

A week later, Kurt finds himself rolling up to one of Lima’s three motels in a car he rented at the airport. It’s strange coming back to the city he grew up in and, yet, not returning back to his childhood home. He had thought about driving past, but he hadn’t necessarily wanted to see through the window to see whatever happy suburban family had bought the place. Instead, he had driven straight to the motel that he had booked himself the moment he knew he would be coming back.

There is something surreal about returning to the place you grew up after so much time has passed. It’s like time has frozen, remaining exactly the same as the moment you left, even if there are new storefronts in the old buildings, expansions where wooded areas used to be, and a real attempt, it seems, to clean the place up. It feels unchanged, and Kurt can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing. It’s just a thing.

It’s evening by the time he gets in. The motel room is bland and tiny, and the four channels on the TV don’t offer much entertainment. He lays down on the bed to stare at the ceiling, thinking if there’s anything he could do. Most places in Lima shut down before eight, even on a Friday night. And it’s not like he has anyone to call. He had been texting Mercedes Jones earlier in the week, shocked that her number had still been the same, but she had explained that she wouldn’t be getting in until very late and implied that whatever plans she had wouldn’t be with him. He had understood, and it’s not like he won’t be seeing her the next day anyway. Scrolling through his phone, he finds that he doesn’t have a single other contact from high school he could call.

Maybe he should just text Ian -- but as his thumb hovers over his boyfriend’s name, he remembers that Ian is probably playing a concert that weekend. And even if he waits until later when Ian’s home, he just doesn’t want to ruin Ian’s good time by explaining that he can’t quite quash the crushing sense of loneliness that seems to be his homecoming.

Why did he think this would be a good idea?

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a neon flashing light, and through the window he sees a building that he hasn’t thought about in years. Thinking anywhere is better than being stuck in that sad motel room for the next twelve hours, Kurt heads out into the night.

***

Scandals is, if nothing else, exactly how he remembers it. Not that his memories are anything more than fuzzy blips of moments from long ago. He remembers the same posters being on the wall, in the same tattered state. He remembers the huge, neon signs lining the walls. And god, the music even feels strikingly similar. There aren’t, he thinks with a laugh, any drag queens though.

The atmosphere is quiet for a Friday night. There are a few guys out on the dance floor, enjoying each other’s company, but most of the people in the bar are huddled in the darkened corners. No one looks up from their conversations to notice him come in. The bouncer is too busy flirting with a denim dressed, bearded guy leaning against the wall to notice him slip by.

He’s not a few steps in when he realizes coming out to a bar seems like a silly thing to do, but makes a deal with himself to have one drink before he heads back to the motel and to do the sensible thing in calling Ian.

But as he heads to the bar, he sees something that makes him freeze in his tracks.

Is that…?

It can’t possibly be…?

Blaine Anderson is sitting at the bar, casually chatting with the bartender as he sips a beer. Kurt is stunned to see him, his mind reeling at how this is even possible. There is only one gay bar in Lima. And he’s probably here for the reunion.

But still… Blaine Anderson, of all people.

There’s a tiny part of him that wants to run. Turn on his heel and walk right back out of that bar and not even worry about the formal meeting they’ll inevitably have tomorrow at the reunion. He doesn’t though.

He watches Blaine for a moment, in his element, throwing his head back to laugh at something the bartender said. It’s astounding to Kurt at how much and how little Blaine has changed. Age, it seems, has done him well. There’s less gel in his hair, allowing the natural curls to reveal themselves. His face is harder, jawbone more defined. He’s wearing a dark sweater vest, but no bowtie, and the shirt underneath is unbutton, revealing a wisp of hair on his chest. Blaine is no longer that young boy he once knew. Sitting at the bar is a man.

And yet… his movements are exactly the same. The way he crinkles his eyes when he laughs, the way he lightly touches the bartender’s arm while expressing his point, the way casually plays with the napkin on the counter. That’s still the Blaine he used to know.

Kurt takes a deep breath, releasing the tension running through him. He could leave… but he doesn’t really want to. It’s been a decade since they’ve seen each other. That’s enough time to let old wounds heal, right?

Kurt takes the plunge.

“I’m guessing this place rarely sees a man as gorgeous as you. Mind if I buy you a drink?”

Blaine turns around, utterly shocked to see him there. Kurt’s confidence slips as the silence lingers. Maybe this had been a bad idea. But then, Blaine breaks out into a grin.

“Kurt?” He says his name slowly, as if it’s unfamiliar in a way, but easily slides off his stool, going in for a hug. It’s awkward -- where do you put your hands and arms? How close do you stand? How do you properly greet someone you once agreed to share your life with? Someone who is a relative stranger now. It’s bizarre to him that somehow, Blaine still feels so familiar in his arms. “Please, join me.” Blaine offers the stool next to him as they slip apart. “I’ll definitely take you up on that drink.”

Kurt sits down, suddenly feeling much more nervous than he had been. Blaine waives down the bartender -- asking for beer, while Kurt shortly asks for an amaretto sour. He definitely needs something to calm him down. How is Blaine being so calm? Is he hiding it better? Or is it that he’s soon to be on his third beer?

“So, what are you doing here?” Blaine asks, placing his head on his hand, now looking amused. There’s no anger there. No resentment, or negativity. Blaine genuinely seems to be happy to see him. Based on how they had left things all that time ago, Blaine could have harbored some ill will towards him. But they are both adults now. And it had been a long, long time ago.

“I’m in town for Mr. Schue’s retirement party,” Kurt says. He rubs his legs, not sure what to do with his hands.

Blaine nods, finishing off the beer he had been drinking when Kurt had arrived. “Oh, yeah, I figured that. I meant, what are you doing here ?” He uses both hands to point down.

“Oh!” Kurt feels a little silly not understanding. Thankfully, the bartender brings them their drinks. Kurt wastes no time gulping half of it down as if it were a shot. “I saw it from the motel window. Call me crazy, but I was feeling nostalgic.”

“Huh,” Blaine takes a long sip from his bottle, narrowing his eyes as he thinks it over. “You’re not staying with Burt?”

“Oh, god, right you wouldn’t know,” Kurt laughs as he stirs his drink. “Dad retired a few years ago. He and Carole moved to Arizona to be closer to her sister.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

“I guess I could have stayed with Uncle Andy,” Kurt continues, remaining fixated on his drink as he talks. “He and his sons took over the tire shop. But we’re not exactly close. And he has, like, ten dogs. I’d rather take my chances with the motel.”

Blaine nods, sympathetically.

“What about you?” Kurt asks. “How’s your family?”

“They’re pretty good,” Blaine says, easily. “Cooper has three little girls. Here, let me show you.” Blaine wastes no time fishing out his phone, scrolling through the roll for a picture of three gorgeous young girls who all, clearly, take after Cooper. Kurt coos accordingly but he can’t help but notice Blaine’s left hand, and the indentation of skin where a ring used to be. It makes him wonder.

“So, what are you doing now?” Kurt asks, trying to relax on his stool. He rests his elbow on the wooden bar, and his head on his hand.

“I teach, actually. New York Institute of Fine Arts,” Blaine says, taking another sip of his beer with a laugh. “I mean, I still perform every now and then. But an adjunct professor was needed, and a friend of mine pulled some strings, and I just kind of fell into it. I love it though.” There’s no lie in Blaine’s voice. Blaine had always been a passionate person, but it’s clear by his demeanor that he loves his job.

Kurt smiles meekly, happy for him. “A private school, of course. How very you. Actually, now that I think of it, that’s not far from my theater.”

“You have a theater?” Blaine’s eyes grow wide with interest.

“Well, half a theater,” Kurt rocks his head from side to side, as if it’s a silly little thing, and not the pride and joy that he’s sunk most of his adult life into, now. He plays with the nearby peanut bowl. “The Gilbert Theater.”

“Oh, I know that place,” Blaine says. There’s excitement in his voice. Kurt isn’t sure why this makes him happy. “I thought it had been condemned. I mean - I’m sure you’ve fixed it up.”

“Oh we have,” Kurt says, thinking about all the work he’s put into it over the years. “Elliott and I renovated it. You wouldn’t even recognize it now.”

Blaine takes another slow slip of his drink. “Elliott? Like from college?” Kurt nods slowly. “Ah. So are you guys…”

“Oh, no,” Kurt quickly corrects. “God, no. Business partners only.” It’s such a funny thought to him. Elliott. They’re like brothers. No, he’s definitely not romantically linked with Elliott. There is someone else… but he quickly pushes Ian out of his brain. He doesn’t want to think about him. “So this is crazy, right? That we both ended up in the same sleazy place? Maybe the universe was trying to push us together again.”

Blaine gives an uncomfortable laugh. “Well, there is only one gay bar in Lima, but I suppose…”

An awkward silence grows between them. Blaine bops his head to the music. Kurt munches on some peanuts. They both avoid direct eye contact. The uneasiness that Kurt had felt when he first walked in begins to return. Maybe he should go.

The bartender breaks the silence, asking Blaine if he’d like another drink. There’s an ease there that Kurt picks up on. Blaine knows the guy -- like really knows the guy. Kurt shifts from side to side not sure what to say or do. He eyes the door, he can still slip out if he needs to.

“Man, I cannot believe how little this place has changed since I used to come here,” Blaine says, taking a look around.

“You mean when we were in high school?” Kurt asks. He’d hardly say coming the three times that they did a lot.

“No, it was actually after…” he trails off but Kurt picks up on what he’s saying. After they broke up. After he broke Blaine’s heart. Blaine kind of skips past the beat. Why dredge up all that old stuff. That’s what the reunion is for, right? Something turns in the pit of Kurt’s stomach. “When I moved back to Lima, I used to come here a lot. Thought maybe throwing myself into this place might make me feel better. Not so alone, you know?”

“Did it help?” Kurt’s voice is small.

“Maybe,” Blaine says with another laugh. “I don’t know, it was so long ago. You know it…” he pauses, thinking it over. “Alright, if I tell you something - do you promise not to run screaming?”

Kurt’s intrigued. “Of course.”

Blaine stares intently at his bottle. “After you and I ended things -- I came back to Lima. And I sorta, kinda dated Dave Karofsky for a while.”

Of all the things that Blaine could have said -- that is the last thing Kurt expects to hear. It makes Kurt chuckle into his drink. He can’t even picture it, it’s such a wild thought. “Wait, seriously?”

“Shocking, right?”

“A little. More so that you were into a bear.”

The tension breaks as they let go into easy laughter. The conversation becomes lighter as they begin to discuss old things. They talk about Dave Karofsky, and how someone who had once been Kurt’s ghost had turned into a friend whom Kurt sees every few years for lunch. Blaine mentions he had attended Dave’s wedding. Kurt mentions he had lunch with Dave and his husband last year. It’s strange how things can change so much in twenty years.

They talk about Dalton -- though not about that staircase. The staircase that will forever be burned in his memory for better or worse. Instead, they talk about Sebastian Smythe with fondness, though neither could say where he ended up. And about the one time Blaine sang at the Gap to impress a guy whose name neither can remember.

And for a moment, unprovoked, Blaine mentions his husband. It’s a startling jolt into reality, but Blaine doesn’t give him any more than a name and a passing story about having to explain to his husband why he refuses to shop at The Gap. It’s not like Kurt hadn’t heard Blaine had gotten married. He doesn't remember who had told him or when or even how he had felt about it. Blaine had wanted to be married. He got his wish. And Kurt is happy for him. He wants to be happy for him. Still, that missing ring…

As they reminisce, the bartender brings them more drinks. The room begins to feel warm and familiar. Kurt isn’t sure if it’s alcohol or Blaine that is making him feel so comfortable so far from home. They talk about high school and old friends, people whom they’ve lost touch with and people they’re looking forward to seeing tomorrow. Kurt learns that Blaine developed a surprisingly deep friendship with Santana Lopez. Blaine learns that Kurt hasn’t talked to Rachel Berry since college.

“I just couldn’t after that show,” Kurt explains. They’re both giggly from drinking too much - Kurt having to hold his hands up when the bartender offers him a third. “I mean - not that she even tried to keep in touch with me. But my god did you watch that thing? It was terrible! She was fine - she was always fine. But who decided that would be what America wanted to see for a decade?”

Blaine snickers into his drink. “Well, personally I was offended. ‘Slaine’,” he uses both hands to make air quotes around the character’s names, “was written out after year two. I was like ‘fuck that’. It’s just as well. Had he stayed on, I might have had to sue their asses for defamation of character.”

“You are not wrong,” Kurt says, unable to stop laughing as he thinks about it. He puts a hand on Blaine’s shoulder to balance himself so as to not fall off his stool.

Blaine notices and smirks. “How drunk are you right now?”

“Less drunk than you are,” Kurt smiles into his glass. He is buzzed but not at all drunk. In fact, he feels good and relaxed and happy. When had he last been this happy? “Anyway… All I know is that a terrible writer wrote ‘Cert’ as the sassy yet sexless gay best friend. And he stayed on the show. The. Entire. Run. If anyone has the right to sue, it’s going to be me.”

“Well, for what it’s worth. I don’t think Cert was anything like you,” Blaine says. He leans in close. Kurt can smell the sweet scent of raspberries. “Personally, I thought you were always sexy.”

Something in the atmosphere shifts. Suddenly, Blaine is close. Close enough that he can see the depths of Blaine’s golden eyes. There’s something there that Kurt hasn’t seen in a long time, and it causes him to break.

He’s not sure what it is that makes him say it. He’s not sure if it’s the heaviness of guilt, or the friendliness of Blaine’s demeanor, or the fact that all of this nostalgia is causing him to reflect on his life’s choices - but he can’t help but let the words stumble out. “Blaine, I’m so sorry.”

Blaine looks at him, genuinely confused. “For what?

“For a lot of things, I feel like I owe you an apology for so many things,” Kurt rambles on. “I was not in a good place and you… I shouldn’t have ended it. I mean I shouldn’t have ended it the way that I did. I shouldn’t have hurt you like that. And I’m sorry that I did.”

Blaine takes a moment to think it over, as if he’s processing everything Kurt’s saying. “Kurt…” he lets out a sigh. “You weren’t the only one who was a mess back then. You don’t have anything to be sorry about. We had a good thing. We had a great thing, even. But it’s fine. It’s all in the past, and I’m fine.”

Kurt feels a bit of relief wash over him. Maybe this is why he needed to come back. Maybe he had just needed to bury his demons. He feels lighter than he has in, well, a while. He reaches out for Blaine’s hand and squeezes it. It feels comforting in his own.

“Look at us now, all grown up,” Kurt says, a smile sliding across his face. “I mean, you’re married and I’m…”

“Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s an open marriage.”

Blaine places his free hand just above Kurt’s knee and squeezes, ever so lightly, he holds it there, stroking his thumb along the side of his thigh. It’s an invitation. His cock gets there first, as he watches Blaine’s hand, firm and strong. His brain becomes fuzzy, but all he can fixate on is the urge to have Blaine’s hand travel up. This is closure, right?

“Come with me,” Kurt makes the quick decision not to second guess this. He grabs onto Blaine’s hand with purpose, sliding off the stool and taking Blaine with him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Blaine smirk as he throws out a few bills on the counter to pay for the drinks.

***

They’re in the bathroom stall, where Kurt vaguely remembers making out once back at the end of his senior year. They never would have done anything as daring as have sex in a public place, but just kissing, even in a place that accepted it, felt naughty and fun back then.

Now, he couldn’t care less that there are people who might know what they’re doing. His desire is too strong, his brain clouded in a haze of need to taste Blaine again; the wonder of if it will feel so good after so long. The room is broken up into stalls, dimly lit, and smells as if they are the next in a long line of gay men who will use this place to relieve themselves in more ways than one. Kurt pulls Blaine back to the farthest stall, ignoring that there’s another couple occupying another stall, the panting sounds of their fucking echoing in the room. It only turns him on more.

Once the stall door is locked, Blaine looks at Kurt, his large, dark eyes more sure than Kurt is about this. It almost throws him off kilter but Kurt looks to Blaine’s mouth, and suddenly he remembers all the things that can be done with it. His resolve broken, Kurt lunges for a kiss.

Blaine kisses back with force, pushing Kurt back into the wall. Kurt doesn’t even care that the metal bar for handicap use is pressing against the back of his thighs. He just wants to feel Blaine. They kiss deeply, wantonly. His sense memory returns and suddenly he feels like a teenager again, hungry for Blaine back when he had been first discovering what sex is. Kurt moans into the kiss that encourages Blaine to slide his tongue against Kurt’s.

They’re all hands and mouths, wrapping themselves around each other as they make-out. Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s neck, combing his fingers through Blaine’s curls as he pulls Blaine closer to him, enough so that their bodies are sliding against each other. Blaine brings his hands down to Kurt’s ass and squeezes with both hands. Fuck. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s gotten so hard so fast.

They begin to rock against each other as they kiss. Kurt can feel Blaine’s hard cock pushing up against his own. If they keep going at this speed, he is not going to last long, and dammit, he refuses to come in his pants.

Kurt breaks the kiss, only for Blaine to start kissing along his jaw and down his neck, Blaine’s touch is electric, and Kurt can’t help but feel dizzy with pleasure. He loses himself in Blaine’s embrace, soaking up the feeling as much as he can. It’s been fifteen years since they’ve fucked - how can this possibly feel so good?

Blaine works his way back up to Kurt’s mouth, though this time, Kurt is able to slow it down. Kurt busies his hands with the buttons on Blaine’s pants. Blaine takes a slight step back, allowing for Kurt to pull him out. Kurt takes a quick second to look down at Blaine’s cock; his thick and delicious cock. If only they weren’t in a bathroom stall right now, Kurt would take his time devouring that cock. Instead, he takes to stroking it, becoming satisfied with the low moans and grunts that are eliciting Blaine’s mouth.

Blaine steadies himself against the wall, as he begins to pump his hips in time with Kurt’s strokes, fucking himself into Kurt’s hand. “Let me,” Kurt says, in a low whisper, biting gently at Blaine’s lips before they fall into a sloppy kiss. Blaine is close - he knows Blaine is close, he can feel it as Blaine arches further into his hand. Kurt speeds up his hand, deliberate in his strokes. It’s a little rough, but Blaine becomes more and more undone, uttering little obscenities as he closes eyes and allows himself the pleasure. Blaine comes, jolting into Kurt’s hand, and lets out a moan that Kurt covers with a kiss.

“Give me a second,” Blaine says, breathlessly, holding firmly against the wall as he comes down.

Kurt smirks, licking the come off his fingers. His own cock is throbbing with need but there’s something incredibly satisfying seeing Blaine loose and fucked out.

Blaine takes a second to put himself back in his pants and then goes down on his knees. This isn’t at all what Kurt had been expecting, and his eyes go wide as Blaine sucks a kiss over Kurt’s clothed cock.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Kurt says, feeling a little guilty. Blaine’s legs are sticking out of the stall door and anyone could interrupt them.

“Shut up and let me blow you, Kurt,” Blaine says, a wicked grin on his face as he unzips Kurt’s zipper. Kurt’s cock bobs free, and like a man allowed to drink water after years in the desert, Blaine sucks Kurt all the way down in one go.

“Jesus, fuck Blaine.” He really doesn’t care if there’s anyone else in there who can hear them. Blaine had always been good at blow jobs; always so eager to give them, and Kurt’s glad to know that Blaine’s enthusiasm hasn’t changed. Blaine sucks him down, greedily, and he loses himself in the sensation of Blaine’s velvety mouth on him.

“I’m curious about something,” Blaine says, pulling off. Kurt can’t imagine what, but he doesn’t have to wait long to find out. Blaine begins to stroke him, slowly, drawing it out. Then sucks a kiss to the tip of Kurt’s cock, using his tongue to swirl and tease it, before he sucks him down once more. Kurt lets out a heavy groan as his knees nearly buckle. “Huh. So that really still does things for you?”

Kurt can’t help but give a little laugh. “Shut up and finish me off, Blaine,” Kurt manages the tease despite him now being desperate to come.

Amused, Blaine obliges, sucking Kurt into his mouth again. Kurt closes his eyes, taking it all in as he lets Blaine take him over the edge. He spills into Blaine’s mouth, Blaine being able to swallow with ease -- something, he notes, Blaine hadn’t been able to do before. As Blaine pulls off, he licks his lips, and remains on his knees for a long moment.

The atmosphere then shifts suddenly. Blaine looks down for a long while, and Kurt can’t tell what Blaine’s feeling -- Guilt? Sadness? Regret?

“Thank you for that,” Blaine says, his sincerity layered with something that feels like finality. Blaine gives Kurt’s hip a kiss before helping put Kurt back into his jeans. There’s something strangely intimate about it, and despite the fact that Kurt is feeling blissed out from his orgasm it’s now tinged with a heavier, unknown feeling. Blaine gets to his feet. There’s a lot going on behind his eyes that Kurt can’t read, but Blaine says nothing, only gives Kurt a soft kiss on the lips. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Blaine leaves the stall but Kurt stays, unsure what to make of everything that happened. A lot just happened. A lot. And as the buzz of sex begins to wear off, a sickening gnawing grows in his stomach. He just had sex with his ex-fiancé whom he hasn’t seen in years. He just cheated on his boyfriend. But what makes Kurt feel the worst, as he slides down the wall to sit on the sticky floor because his legs can no longer hold him, is the realization that for Blaine - that might have been his way of saying goodbye.

#s.o. writes things #head over feet #klaine #klaine fic

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

Text

princesse de mort | part 12.

Summary: Y/N Riddle. Not much more has to be said. Life at Hogwarts when your dad is Lord Voldemort is an interesting experience. And four particular people at school make it even more interesting.

Warnings for the Series: This whole story is angsty, hurt/comfort, smut, will end in fluff but goes through all the other stuff first. this is like a mild dark fic? just shy of being dark?

Pairing: Marauders x black!reader, eventual Remus Lupin x black!reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

With a belt tied around it, Remus’ jumper turned into a dress. Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, agreed to come with the two of you when you asked. Despite everything, they thought that you managed to still look good. Not the same as the pictures but there was a resemblance. You all took the Floo Network to Diagon Alley. You clutched your husband’s arm as you all stepped into the crowd. It was a shaky walk all the way to Gringotts. The goblin at the front desk didn’t say anything when you first walked in. You never had a Gringotts’ account before. It was almost laughable that you were a grown woman and this was the first time you had ever set foot in a bank. You put down the key.

“I’d like to withdraw from my vault.”

“Name?”

“(Y/N) Lupin.”

“How much?”

“The Ministry should’ve given you more,” Ron said.

Hermione nodded. “They can’t try to put a price on what they did, you should be as rich as Harry.”

“It’s alright,” you said. “I think this pouch alone is more money than I ever had in my entire childhood. I don’t think I’ve touched a galleon until today.”

You handed the pouch to Remus until you bought a bag. He pocketed the coins and bank key.

“Where to, Sunshine?”

“Flourish and Blotts?”

“Let’s go.”

“I’m your godmother, Harry. Godmothers give presents. Pick out what you like. Can I go look now?”

“Yes,” Remus said quietly.

“You’ve done that before?” you asked. “I… I think they took that memory.”

Remus took the pile from your hands and took it to checkout. He knew about dementors. He had to before getting a job at Hogwarts back in Harry’s third year. But, that didn’t make it any easier to see the effects in real time on someone he cared about. You took the bag of books and looked at what the children bought, telling them to keep the change. Remus looked down when you interlocked your fingers with his again.

“This is a good time. First good memory.”

The kids smiled at you.

“I feel.” You looked at Remus. “Better than this morning’s peaceful. It’s different, like sunshine.”

“Happy.”

“I missed this feeling. You smile when you’re happy, right?”

The kids and Remus laughed while telling you yes. You nodded and shark smiled. Remus kissed the top of your head. The corners of his eyes crinkled up again. He didn’t care how awkward it looked. He loved to see your smile, see that you were trying. With books acquired, the next stop was for clothes. You didn’t spend very long shopping. You weren’t happy about the fact that nothing fit because it wasn’t as if the way you looked was your choice.

In the end, you bought a bunch of belts and made Remus buy clothes he liked. You would just belt his clothes. The only personal things you bought were underwear and shoes. Remus took you to the bedding section for what you really wanted. You scanned every duvet and blanket. It had to be soft. Softer than anything you ever felt before so you would forget Azkaban whenever you were wrapped in it.

Remus and the kids were on a mission to help. They easily got rid of blankets that weren’t remotely soft. Others that had potential were brought to you to feel. Hermione came up to you with a blanket that was a blueish grey. You held the blanket, fingers rubbing the fabric. You nodded.

“I like this one.”

“Alright. Books, clothes, a blanket. Anything else, Sunshine?” Remus asked after paying.

“I’m hungry. Can I eat?”

“Yeah, we can all go eat.”

“Why are you laughing?”

“Ron told a funny joke,” he whispered back.

“How do I know when something is funny?”

“I… I don’t know, Sunshine. Everyone has their own things they find funny.”

“Ha ha,” you said quietly after watching how Harry laughed.

“Aunt (Y/N), how did you get with Uncle Remus?”

Ron nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been wondering that too after… that… thing?”

Remus looked at you. It was something he was curious about too. When he had poured his heart out before asking to kiss you, he thought you would have said no. All you said was that you forgave the Marauders for whatever they had done. But if he was being honest, he expected you to be with James.

If you were going to give any of them a chance romantically after what happened, he thought it would have been James Potter. You were always in his stuff growing up and he was the softest on you when it came to doing things you liked. James actually permed his hair once because you wanted one of them to go get your hair done with you and he didn’t want to just sit around in the salon.

“Remmy was quiet. He liked to read like me… you were nice.”

“I was awful to you at a point.”

“I know. But everyone was because everyone was afraid. Even after the truth, only a few of you were ever nice. I don’t know, you were just right for me.”

Remus kissed the top of your head again. The kids watched the way he looked at you like you were his whole world. Harry couldn’t help himself but ask now that you were here. Remus told him the story once at the very end of third year when he was devastated that they let Pettigrew escape. But Harry wanted to hear it again, especially with Remus in such a bright mood. So the boy asked when did Remus fall in love with you. Remus knew the answer without even thinking about it.

“The day I woke up to her caring for one of my cuts when I was too tired. I wouldn’t admit it until much later but she kept doing it every full moon. Right before seventh year, I finally worked up the courage to say something. The day was perfect with the rain outside.”

“I remember that,” you said. “That day was good. I was… when you asked to kiss me, I felt…”

Remus grabbed your hand when the shallow breaths started. It hurt to not know what feelings were anymore. They said they would come back. As you made new memories, feelings like happiness would come back eventually. The Golden Trio watched you grow increasingly frustrated. It felt like being a toddler despite the fact that you were a full grown adult. You couldn’t process any emotion that was more positive than negative. But you wanted Remus to know.

“I felt… like… how this butterbeer tastes.” You held the warm drink to his lips, watching him take a sip. “Yep, how it tastes.”

Remus smiled. “I love you, too.”

“I. Love. You. Warm butterbeer is love, love tastes like butterbeer.”

“Yeah, it does, Sunshine.”

You all went home after eating. When you asked to go outside before the sun set, Remus said he wanted to go with you. It was the first time that the two of you had been truly alone since you got out of Azkaban. It was the first time Remus allowed himself to cry at seeing what happened to you. You wiped his tears and patted his head.

The middle of August came and you escorted Harry to his trial. He only told you about three days before the letter showed up that before he came to Grimmauld, he had cast a patronus charm outside of school. As his godparents, you and Remus went with him. Remus left to go to a different department in the Ministry. Neither of you wanted to tell Harry in case it didn’t work but you both were trying to get legal guardianship. At least for his last few years at Hogwarts.

The officials overseeing the case got quiet when you sat in the visitors’ seats as Harry sat in the middle of the room. Your presence and how they messed up the first time made them very weary of how they approached Harry’s trial. Dumbledore and Mrs. Figgs’ words as his lawyer and witness were carefully considered. While it would only be expelling Harry and not Azkaban, they still wanted to be very careful. Some officials stopped paying attention to the trial and just looked at you. Of course it had only been two weeks, nothing drastic could happen but they still wished you didn’t look so starved of everything. At least they could see the start of a person filling back out— partly because Molly tried to stuff you until you literally couldn’t hold food anymore.

“Can we leave?” you asked the official.

They all knew about your condition, making everyone squirm even more at seeing it in action. The official told you yes while looking anywhere but your eyes. You stretched out a hand to your godson.

“Come, Harry, dear. Let’s go.”

The two of you left to go find Remus.

“You can still use magic,” you said.

“But the Min—”

“They track by house, not by wand. As long as you’re at Grimmauld, you and your friends are free to use magic. Just not outside the house.”

“Brilliant.”

Remus met you both, telling you vaguely that the paperwork was filed. If they ended up allowing you and Remus guardianship, the two of you would move to a nice house where Harry could have a big room. Sirius might come with. You never knew with him. He would either come with you or stay in his own place, potentially start dating again— Remus said he had a boyfriend four years ago and a girlfriend three years before that. Whatever he chose, you would make sure there was a room for your best friend as well.

You and Remus talked more in the safety of your bedroom that night. Jobs were questionable for both of you and he absolutely refused to let the family live off of your compensation, saying it was all yours to spend as frugally or frivolously as you wanted. He figured he would go back to Hogwarts. He had only left because he was worried that parents would protest a werewolf teaching but no one ever complained about his lessons. Students actually really liked him. He found that he actually liked teaching as well.

“Do you want to go to sleep now, Sunshine?”

You shook your head.

“I have a question. They took some of my memories of us kissing but I still have some. But I can’t remember a single time we had sex, only when we were all at Hogwarts… did we have sex after the photos got out? Ever? Did the dementors take all those memories?”

“No.” Remus shook his head. “We never did. After everything, we just went slow and never seemed to get around to it.”

You rested your chin on his chest. “Can we?”

“What?”

“I… I remember it feeling good, those memories weren’t happy enough to take the feeling out.”

Remus’ grip on you tightened as he immediately apologized. He would always remember when James asked you that night if you liked most of what they did to you. They all thought their hearts would break when you had said no. That admittance forced them to acknowledge the reality of the fact that they used you only for their pleasure and how fucked up it was.

“But even the rough stuff felt kind of good,” you said. “I want to feel more of it… please?”

“Are you sure?”

Remus wasn’t sure if touching you was a good idea. He knew you didn’t like that everyone looked at you like you were fragile but he couldn’t help it. It was hard not to look at you that way. He looked you in the eyes as you said that you were sure and asked him again. Pleasure was the only feeling you really remembered and you wanted more. You wanted to feel good. Remus slowly leaned in to kiss you. He missed you so much, missed the feeling of your lips on his. He moved both of you so you were laying on the mattress and he was hovering above. Remus deliberately kissed down your body. He was going to show you how to be loved sweetly, something they never gave you in the past.

(Part 13)

#remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x reader

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