#this is the response to a) kids not putting their socks on but coming downstairs dressed as crocodiles

[elodieunderglass]

#swan comics #a swan in a santa hat #🦢 #I thought about posting this in response to someone #but that would be a bit too much I think #no harm done #least said soonest mended #but this is a conversation I have in my home as well so #perhaps we need a visual shorthand #where the FUCK is my CUP #this is the response to a) kids not putting their socks on but coming downstairs dressed as crocodiles #b) spouse mishearing something but gallantly giving an opinion on it that was so in depth I didn’t have the heart to interrupt #and c) someone explaining to me about the discworld reading order #on a post about the saddening lack of risk-taking and support for creators in the content-gatekeeping industry #none of those are crimes not even the socks #I can strongly understand the Considerations that beset and bedazzle you when you go to put socks on and how the best response is to put on #a fuzzy crocodile onesie #but it’s not what I asked. #like this is a good response to a different thing #please recall the input here - the assignment if you will - was about socks. I love what you’ve done here though #good contribution. you know what we’re keeping it. love it. #just don’t present it as if the original incident report can be marked closed now okay? #do not close the support ticket #the support ticket remains unanswered. #no I completely agree. the outfit DOES need green face paint too. a topic we can add to the queue when oddly enough you have socks on

[needcake]

Day 1: surprise/gift

Engport | G | 1.3k

@engportevents

.

.

Small socked feet padding softly across the wooden flooring woke him up on Sunday morning.

Their room was still dark, a faint sound of light rain coming from behind the closed blinds, Gabriel’s steady breaths coming from his side of the bed. Arthur reached blindly for the alarm clock behind him and opened his bleary eyes to stare at the red numbers marking over half an hour before seven. Gabriel grumbled sleepily and he agreed, putting the clock back down and returning his arm around his warm waist.

He was almost, almost, falling asleep again when he heard it once more: small feet trampling the floor going up and down the corridor, scurrying away like mice on a ship.

“I think the boys are up,” he whispered into the collar of Gabriel’s pajamas and his husband groaned tiredly, pulling the sheets tighter around himself and excluding Arthur from his cocoon.

“And why do I have to be?” came Gabriel’s sleepy response, to which Arthur couldn’t think of something equally smart to answer back so he just grunted at him, peeling back the warm covers and blinking at the floor to find his slippers.

He yawned out into the corridor and noticed a single raisin on the floor. Half a meter away he saw another one, and then another one half a meter away from that, trailing all the way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, he found the two scurrying culprit mice.

“What are you two doing up?”

A pair of Asian boys ages 8 and 5 looked over their shoulders at him, frozen and caught. It took one too many seconds for Arthur’s brain to connect the dots and fully understand what the hell was going on. There was spilled milk in the counter dripping down the kitchen tiles, an empty bag of raisins on the floor, eggshells on the counter, orange peels hanging from the kitchen sink faucet. His oldest was holding a pan on top of an open flame on the stove and his youngest stood on a precarious three-legged stool perched beside him, holding scissors.

There was also something burning.

“What the f—”

“You’re not supposed to see!” Leon yelled loudly, jumping from his stool and dashing towards him with the scissors and Arthur barely had time to dodge him and take a step back before the door was slammed on his nose.

He gaped at the door.

Then he huffed.

And then he went back for reinforcements.

“Gabe, wake up,” he said, turning on the lights and the human cocoon on the bed squirmed away, hiding his head under the pillow. “The kids are in the kitchen.”

More squirming. “So what?” came a tired response, muffled from under the pillow. “Come back to bed. They’re probably just making cereal.”

A plate crashed downstairs and Gabriel jolted upright, eyes wide open and alert.

“They are in the kitchen,” he repeated, with emphasis.

A multitude of expressions flashed through Gabriel’s expression, from horror to surprise to bewilderment, back to horror.

“And you just left them there? Arthur!” Gabriel whispered-screamed, untangling himself from his twist of sheets and emerging from the bed an angry butterfly, pulling on the first pair of pants he saw – Arthur’s – and stealing a robe from the rack – also Arthur’s –, spitting hair out of his face as he stood in front of him with his hands on his hips and clothes a size too small for his body. “There are knives in the kitchen! Open flames!”

He stepped aside and Gabriel passed by him, nostrils flared, pulling the sleeves of his robe up to his forearms and puffing like a dragon coming out of its lair ready to breathe fire over an unsuspecting village with Arthur hot on his heels.

As they reached the kitchen, Gabriel raised his fist ready to pound the wood into submission, but just as was about to the door opened a small gap and Leon stuck his head out.

“Vicente said Dad can come in, but only Dad,” he said, and Gabriel’s fist slowly uncurled, still held confusedly suspended in the air.

He looked behind his shoulder at Arthur and they pointed their fingers to one another in a silent argument over who ‘Dad’ was, both of them slowly turning their fingers back towards themselves.

Leon’s little hand darted out from the open crack in the door and grabbed the ends of Gabriel’s stolen robe, dragging him inside and shutting the door on Arthur’s nose again.

Arthur stood there, his mouth still trying to articulate his confusion, when a few seconds later Gabriel was pushed out of the kitchen and stumbled into him, hands catching on Arthur’s arms to steady himself and the two of them barely securing their footing before the door to the kitchen closed again.

He didn’t seem any less confused than Arthur though, which was something of a feat.

“I think…” he started, looking genuinely startled. “I think our sons might be evil geniuses.”

Arthur held his husband by the elbows and remembered to close his gaping mouth.

“Huh.”

-

Gabriel relayed the instructions he had received: they were supposed to stay in bed and wait for the surprise. So back to bed they went, sitting stiffly side by side, staring at the open door waiting for something to happen.

“Still think having kids was the right decision?”

Gabriel turned his head to blink slowly at him, not quite getting it.

“We could be sipping margaritas at a beach somewhere right now,” he continued, and Gabriel’s confusion dissipated, but it was replaced with a warm, humorous something he didn’t have time to articulate into words, because right as Gabriel opened his mouth to answer, a pair of tiny feet sounded on the corridor and the conversation was stalled in favor of both of them turning towards the door.

A pair of flour, butter, sugar-coated boys came in holding a tray of oatmeal-raisin muffins, burnt scrambled eggs, raggedly sliced oranges and tea, which was deposited at the foot of their bed.

“We wanted to surprise you,” Vicente said, and Leon shrugged slightly beside him, supporting a disgruntled little pout on his lips (much too similar to some of Arthur’s to go unnoticed).

And so he was the first one to break out of their stupefied stupor, internally shaking himself and sliding the tray towards them over the duvet. “Well, I’m very surprised,” Arthur said, putting on what Gabriel called his dad-voice, looking at the slightly under-baked muffins and the odd-chopped orange slices and the watery tea. “And you did this all by yourselves?”

Small heads nodded, and Gabriel huffed out a little defeated chuckle through his nose.

“Come here,” Gabriel said, opening his arms to welcome Leon and pull him up into the bed, setting about cleaning his flour-dusted cheeks with Arthur’s robe sleeve. “Whose idea was this?”

“Mine!” Leon piped from his lap, and Arthur saw the small honest smile on Vicente’s face.

He beaconed the child closer and silently asked for his glasses, giving them a good wipe with the hem of his sleeve before handing them back. “Was it?” he asked privately, and Vicente shook his head. He smiled at him and ruffled his hair, making space for the boy to climb on the bed with them.

Arthur winced at the taste of the tea, and Gabriel gagged around a bite of a gooey muffin. But their eyes met over their children’s heads and they held back their laughter.

“You know what?” he said, holding a moment of suspense, looking at his children’s expectant expressions and his husband’s amused raised eyebrows, a mess of sheets and crumbs and droplets of tea on the duvet, Gabriel in his robe and sugar on the kids’ noses and chins. He smiled at it all. “This is actually perfect.”

#engportweekevent #engportweek #engport #hws england #hws portugal #hws macau #hws hong kong #hetalia #a wild fic appears

[k3rm1e]

heyo!! i was wondering if you would mind writing hc’s for a reader who just had a major accomplishment but their parents don’t really congratulate them or anything, and then philza celebrates with them instead and tells reader how proud he is. i kinda want some dadza comfort rn :’) anyway, thank you sm!! have a great day <3

accomplishments

heyo!! i was wondering if you would mind writing hc’s for a reader who just had a major accomplishment but their parents don’t really congratulate them or anything, and then philza celebrates with them instead and tells reader how proud he is. i kinda want some dadza comfort rn :’) anyway, thank you sm!! have a great day <3

hello anon! i’m sorry i took a while to answer this. i went a bit off track with this and got A LOT more angsty, so i’m really sorry about that. If you want me to make a much more fluffier or mellowed-out version, i’d be happy to. please, read the trigger warnings before reading this.

i don’t plan on writing more angst-y things like this, especially not this angsty, so don’t worry. once again, please, if you would like me to rewrite this into a less emotional version i’d be happy to

cw: swearing

tw: talk of god and the church, slight manipulation, repetition of words

accomplishments:

  holy shit. you were in disbelief. a state of shock. one million twitch followers. one. million. followers. you were silent. shock can have many effects on a person. some scream and laugh out of joy, or a misplaced sense of mania. others cry, because they cannot handle it. some remain confused, because their brains are unable to conceptualize the event. you were silent.

  what should you do? would a “thank you” tweet be good enough or would it come off as insincere? should you wait to stream? or would that make people feel you didn’t care because you took so long? through the anxiety you could feel the true realization that you now had one million followers. like a truck, you were hit with the most excited feeling ever. getting up, you jumped around your room. you spun and jumped and cheered and whooped and yelled and smiled and danced and were overflowing with joy, with the acknowledgement that you had done it, you had really fucking done it. 

  opening the window above your desk, without a single fuck, you screamed. “WHOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! FUCK YEAH!!!!!!” let’s just hope your neighbors don’t wake up.

  you stayed up all night, celebrating. tweeting out a thank you, you received congratulations from your fans and friends while you talked with the people in your discord vcs.

  in the morning, your mother and father had woken up. with a newfound determination, you ran downstairs. streaming was your passion and you wanted to tell the world what you had done. but, because of limitations, your mother was your metaphorical world.

  “mom! mom! mom! mother, mother, mumther!!” you shouted, dashing down the stairs, tripping over your feet. stupid wood flooring and slidy socks.

  from your place at the bottom of the stairs, you heard her sigh, “yes, sweetie?”

  you bounded over to her, setting your arms on the kitchen counter. from the hallway you could see your dad, who was sitting on the couch drinking his sunday morning coffee. “mom! guess what?” without giving her time to respond, you shouted, “i hit one million follows on twitch! one freaking million!”.

  your mother didn’t seem as enthusiastic as you. “is that why you were causing such a ruckus last night? and, watch your mouth, even though ‘freaking’ isn’t a ‘true’ curse, i don’t want you swearing. especially not on the lord’s day. i couldn’t fathom going to church everyday, only to allow you to have a mouth like that.” she continued to stare at her work papers.

  “oh, uh, okay mother. dad? did you hear me? i hit one million on twitch.” you awkwardly turned your head over to your father.

  “she’s right, you know that, don’t you sweetie?” your father stood up, and made his way into the kitchen. “language like that, it’s shameful. surely, we don’t need you to have a private session with father paulson, do we?” your dad stood next to your mother, rubbing her back as he stared at you.

  “no, no, of course not. um, i’m gonna go upstairs now.” you turned around, wishing you could simply disappear.

  “without breakfast? are you truly that upset with us? we can’t have you ending up like those people, committing sinful acts and going to hell. god would never forgive you. we’re already taking a risk allowing you to stream, putting yourself out there.”

  both your mother and father stared at you. your blood felt like ice in your veins. the white walls of your house seemed so much brighter, yet duller at the same time. everything felt a white-pure-pink-orange. your breathing got uneasy. choppy. in, out, out, in, in, in, out, in, in, out, out for different increments of time. 5, 3, 2, 7, 10, 9, 6, 4, 1, 6, 8, seconds, over and over and over.

  “we just wanna protect you, dear. we love you, don’t you get that?” your mother stared at you.

  you felt like a scene in those movies. the ones that directly cater to teens who thought their lives were shit when in reality they just hadn’t grown up enough to make sense of something yet. were you one of those teens? or is this actually wrong. you don’t think it is, but you don’t talk to others about this. family matters stay in the family was a common phrase repeated in your household. the church was family, they could know. your mother and father, they could know. others, they must not know, never know.

  “of course, mother, father.” you wanted to force yourself to speak, but syllables were incapable of getting past your lips. your mouth was full of peanut butter from the sandwiches served in your elementary school cafeteria. but, the partly frozen chocolate milk always washed it down. “of course. i love you guys too. love you.” you smiled, a disgusting smile that felt violating to exist on your face, violating, violating, violating.

  you dashed up the stairs, to your room, up, up, up. running in, you wanted to slam the door, scream out the window, puch your pillow, smash your pc, cry, whatever you could do to get out your emotions. but instead, you lightly shut your door and slowly walked over to your desk chair to see who was online. you would go live later. it was only 5 AM, after all. they could wait. at least, you hoped they could.

  opening discord, just to see what everyone was doing, you saw philza minecraft was online. you went over and messaged him, ‘phil. philza. philza minecraft. vc please?’ in response, you received a short, ‘sure m8, gimme a minute’ you waited, until you heard the noise confirming he had joined.

  “good morning phil.” your energy from before had receded back into the confines of your chest. the prior excitement was gone and replaced with a feeling of fatigue.

  “morning mate, how are you? congrats on the one mill!” phil sounded excited, happy for you. you smiled, chuckling a bit.

  “i’m alright man, just tired. how are you? and, thanks for the congrats.” you smiled, feeling the fatigue set in.

  “i’m good. but you, you don’t sound very good. couldn’t sleep, could ya’? that was how i was when i hit one mill. way too excited to sleep.”

  “yeah. yeah, i’m just tired.” you were getting a bit too tired to talk. the day had barely started, and yet the full-body emotional exhaustion had set.

  “‘just tired’? the hell happened kid?” phil’s voice sounded concerned. fuck. the last thing you wanted to do was worry him. he had his own life and you had already caused enough trouble today.

  “it’s nothing big phil, seriously. just my parents.” there, a slight bit of information. family matters still within the family, just a few words.

  “they being shitbirds? or are you lying, and something big did happen?” he was being inquisitive, which was dangerous. questions were dangerous.

  “no, why would i lie?” his inquisitiveness would continue, you knew. so you spilled the metaphorical beans. “they just, just weren’t as supportive as i’d wished they were when i told them. i was really psyched, y’know? and them, just sort of, not giving a shit? i don’t know man, it just feels bad.”

  “i get you. it’s shit, when people don’t care about your accomplishments. my parents never really saw streaming as a true profession in the beginning, which led to shit like you describing. i promise it gets better though, even if it feels like shit now. and, for what it’s worth, i’m proud of you.”

  “it’s fine phil, you don’t need to try to make me feel better. i’m okay, seriously.” you didn’t need or want his pity. accepting it would feel patronizing.

  “no, you need to understand that i’m not fucking around. one million is a big fuckin’ thing, especially for you who hasn’t been streaming all that long to achieve. it’s fucking amazing, mate. be proud of yourself, for christ’s sake.” his fake anger chimed through your headphones. even though you were being berated, you still felt better.

  “thank you, phil. i needed that.”

  “your welcome, mate. and look, anytime your parents are being shit, don’t try to hold it all in. call me, or wil, or someone, okay? don’t hold that shit in.”

  you fake sighed, just to piss him off. “okayyyyyy….”

  “good. now, go take a nap or some shit. i love you, kid.”

  “love you too, dadza.” this time, your words didn’t feel forced. the smile on your face wasn’t violating, but an invitation to better times. it would be alright. okay.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt x reader angst #philza x reader

[fruitcoops]

I was wondering if I could request something? Maybe Sirius' first night at the Dumais' place and Dumo can straight away tell that somethings wrong. Sirius makes polite conversation and it all looks so painful until he retires for the night and Dumo passes by his room and he hears Sirius crying maybe? Because of what his mother said, and maybe because he has trouble adjusting to new situations? Just an idea that popped into my head :) Only if you want to write it <3 Thank you

Yes, I can! I love writing Dumo, but for some reason I don't do it that often--his and Sirius' dynamic is just so wholesome and wonderful. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for implied child abuse and broken glass (no injury)

The first thing Pascal Dumais noticed about Sirius Black was how quiet he was. At only eighteen years old, Sirius was taller than most of the other Lions, with broad shoulders and gangly limbs. Yet he moved almost silently, padding along the wood floors in his socks and speaking only when spoken to. It was…honestly, a bit unsettling.

Dumo had expected a rambunctious teenage boy, still high on the thrill of being drafted to the NHL—instead, he found himself the guardian-slash-landlord of a ghost. Sirius unloaded his meager belongings with little fuss and accepted no help, his pale eyes never lingering on either of them for too long.

Celeste poked her head into the living room in the early afternoon when they returned from the grocery store; Sirius was sitting ramrod straight in the smallest chair they had with a thick book in his hands. She knocked gently on the doorframe, and he jumped. “Sirius, would you like some lunch?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” he said in that unusually soft voice.

“It’s no trouble,” she assured him.

“I can make myself a sandwich if you have other things to do. Really, I’m alright.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

Sirius blinked, as if he hadn’t expected her to ask, then glanced at the clock on the wall. “I had breakfast at seven and a granola bar on the plane.”

“Sirius, it’s almost two.”

“Is it?”

“Come with me for a moment, oui?” She ushered him into the kitchen; Dumo wasn’t sure he would ever get used to seeing someone so physically imposing walk so small.

“Papa?” Someone tugged on the hem of his shirt and he snapped out of his daze, leaning down to lift Adele into his arms with a smile.

“Bonjour, mon chou! Did you have fun outside?” She nodded, wiggling a little in her excitement, and put her hands on either side of his face. Dumo’s stomach sank. “Why are your hands wet?”

“I washed them!”

“Why?”

“Because we played with chalk!”

Both the boys were at day camp, and Katie was down for her afternoon nap. Dumo wracked his brain. “Who were you playing with?”

“Sirius!” she giggled, then held the front of her shirt out. Wasn’t she wearing a different one this morning?“An’ he said chalk stains, so he lifted me up so I could wash my hands and helped me get my new shirt on when it got stuck and let me braid his hair! Can we keep him? Please, Papa, I wanna keep him forever!”

Dumo kissed her forehead as a wave of emotion tickled the back of his throat. Less than six hours in their home, and Sirius was already connecting with his children. “Oui, we can. Did you say thank you?”

Adele bit her lower lip. “I don’t remember.”

“Sirius?” Dumo called. The clanking in the kitchen stopped. “Can you come here for a moment?”

There was a beat of silence before he appeared in the doorway, looking paler than before as he walked over to them. This boy needs to eat more, the parental part of Dumo’s brain thought instantly. Slate-grey eyes flickered between them. “She—she had chalk on her shirt. I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

“It’s alright. What do you say?” Dumo asked, turning to Adele.

She turned a beaming smile on Sirius. “Thank you!”

His whole face softened in the blink of an eye and he smiled back, giving her a light fist bump. “Pas de problem, petit papillon.”

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

Sirius opened up a bit over lunch; Adele perched herself right in his lap with her peanut butter sandwich to his clear astonishment, but his smiles came easier after that and Dumo treasured each one. He was already grateful that Sirius did not seem like the type of asshole player that Dumo remembered from his high school years.

Marc and Louis returned to the house just as they finished, and though Sirius offered to help wash the dishes—the boy was a blessing, really—they shooed him off to play with the kids for a while. It would do them all some good to get out in the sun.

“Quiet, isn’t he?” Celeste remarked as they stood side-by-side at the sink. Her tone was casual, but Dumo saw the worry in her eyes.

He hummed in agreement. “He’s probably just nervous, mon amour. They can take a while to warm up.”

“Pascal, I don’t think—”

The sound of shattering glass echoed from the other room. The house held its breath. “Is everyone alright?” Dumo called, drying his hands on the nearest towel as his pulse picked up. “What happened?”

Hushed whispers floated out, followed by the pitter-patter of little feet. He hurried down the hall with Celeste hot on his heels. “I’m so sorry,” Sirius said as they entered the room. He was kneeling on the wood floor, gathering fragments of a small water glass in one palm. “It was my fault. I hit it with my elbow.”

Celeste frowned. “Boys? Adele? I know you were here.”

Dumo didn’t miss Sirius’ hard swallow, nor the sudden nervousness—no, that was fear—on his face as the three kids crept out from around the corner, looking guiltier than anything. Adele stepped forward, but Sirius stood in a smooth, instinctive motion, keeping her behind him. “It was my fault,” he repeated. Dumo’s heart sank.

“Adele, is that true?”

She looked up toward Sirius, who kept his broad hand ever so slightly in front of her shoulder. Celeste raised an eyebrow. “Adele Marie, tell the truth.”

“No,” she said.

“Come here, please.” Dumo watched Sirius’ breaths go shallow as Celeste beckoned to Adele, but confusion took its place when she crouched to her level. “Thank you. What Sirius did was very nice, but we don’t let other people take the fall for our mistakes in this house, Adele. We accept responsibility. Who broke the cup?”

“I was chasing Marc and we both bumped into the table,” Adele confessed, toying with the hem of her butterfly-patterned shirt. “It was an accident, I promise.”

“Did anyone get hit by the glass?” Dumo asked. All three shook their heads. “Sirius?”

He cleared his throat. “No, Mr. Dumais.”

“Marc, Adele, I want you to find the broom and dustpan so your mother and I can clean this up. Thank you for being honest. Sirius, there’s a trash can in the kitchen, but be careful of the sharp edges. And please, call me Pascal or Dumo.”

But he didn’t stop thinking about the visible alarm on Sirius’ face when Celeste brought Adele forward all afternoon. Something was not right.

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

If it wasn’t for the baby, Dumo would not have heard it.

Katie woke around midnight with a quiet whine, which devolved into whimpering, and finally into full-out sobbing for over half an hour. He carried her downstairs so she wouldn’t wake the others and gently rocked her, humming lullabies under his breath until his throat was dry and her tears abated. “There’s my good girl,” he murmured, drying her pudgy cheeks with his sleeve.

The last bits of sleep faded away as he set her down in her crib again, and he sighed. The season didn’t start for more than a month, but he had been looking forward to a few consecutive nights of solid rest before then.

May as well check on the others, he thought, wandering down the hallway in his thickest socks and bathrobe to stave off the nighttime chill. Marc and Louis were each out cold; he took the open book splayed across Marc’s bed and set it on his dresser, turning the lamp off as he left. Adele was curled into a tight ball around no less than four of her precious stuffed animals and he tucked the blankets back over her shoulder.

Dumo’s feet carried him down the stairs before his brain fully caught up, and he paused—Sirius had been in their house for a single day, and already he had the urge to look out for him. The thought should have made him feel silly, but instead he felt…peaceful. He felt right. There was a lost and near-silent boy in his home, who protected his kids within hours of knowing them. Of course Dumo was going to make sure he was alright.

Summer wind rushed past the wide windows as he headed toward the basement. It was warmer there, and he took a moment to mentally pat himself on the back for remodeling two years prior. Hopefully, Sirius would be comfortable.

A soft sound broke through his thoughts. Dumo stopped on the last step.

There was a harsh breath, then a sniffle, as if the person inside was trying and failing to keep their tears in past the point of no return. He heard a few shaky, weak inhales, then a choked noise that cut off abruptly with a gulp.

Dumo closed his eyes to hold back tears of his own and knocked lightly on the bedroom door.

Everything went silent with a rustle.

“Sirius?” he whispered, raising his voice just enough to be heard through the door. “Are you awake?”

There was no answer.

“Can I come in?” he ventured.

An unsteady voice answered. “Ouais.”

The door creaked a little as he opened it and stepped into the dark room. Sirius was nothing more than a clump of shadows on the far side of the bed, squished tight against the wall with all his blankets wrapped around him. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Je vais bien.”

“Can I sit?” Dumo fully expected Sirius to tell him ‘no’, to make an excuse, to pull some arrogant teenager nonsense.

Instead, he tucked his legs up and made room near the foot of the bed with another sniffle. “Did I wake you?”

“Non. Katie was crying, and I thought I’d check on everyone.” He settled down and scooted until his back was against the wall as well—Sirius was still hiding in a cocoon of his duvet, but his hand came up to wipe his face. “Do you want to talk?”

“About what?”

“You seem upset. I know the homesickness is hard for the first few days, but—”

“No.” The vehemence of Sirius’ answer shocked him into silence. “No. I’m not homesick. I just—so much has happened, and I—it’s—this is everything I wanted, right here, and—”

He broke off with a wounded noise that broke Dumo’s poor heart right down the middle. He moved closer until their shoulders touched; to his surprise, Sirius leaned on him and shivered. “How can I help you?” Dumo asked quietly.

“Your family…” Sirius shook his head and drew the covers tighter. “You have a beautiful family. You should be proud of them.”

“I am, every day.”

“Your kids love you so much.” It was barely more than a whisper.

Dumo sighed through his nose. “I know.”

“No, you don’t, they—you’re their hero. And not because of hockey.”

That was Dumo’s dream, laid out right in front of him. If someone he hardly knew could see that, then it must be true. The impact was greater than he ever could have imagined; his lungs felt tight. “Thank you. Is it alright if I ask you something?”

Sirius stiffened slightly.

“You’re not in trouble, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just…worried.”

He felt Sirius shift. “This is about the glass.” It wasn’t a question.

“Oui.” Dumo searched for the words and scrounged up any sliver of tact he could find. “Sirius, do you—what happens when you break a glass at your house?”

Sirius’ breath rushed from his lungs in a near-silent sob. Dumo gathered him close in his arms and held him, letting tears dampen his shoulder as he murmured soft reassurances in French. “I’m sorry,” Sirius croaked, though he did not move away. “I’m sorry for—for intruding, and for ruining your shirt—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Dumo gave him a light squeeze of comfort and felt him go a bit boneless. “And you are not intruding. We love having you here with us.”

“Really?”

He sounded so unsure. So young. Dumo wished he could take away whatever horrible things had been said to ever make someone so kind feel so small. “Yes. Adele, especially.”

“She’s so…colorful.” Fondness dripped from every word.

“She is,” Dumo agreed. “She came running up to me, and went ‘papa, papa, can we keep him?’”

Sirius laughed a little at his imitation and straightened up, drying his eyes on his hoodie sleeve. They sat quietly for a while until the shaking stopped and his death grip on the comforter loosened. “Thank you, Mr. Dumais.”

“Call me Pascal, or Dumo if you like. ‘Mr. Dumais’ makes me sound like a grandfather.” They laughed together, then fell silent once more. “And you’re welcome. Any time you need help, you can come to me. I might not be your father, but—”

“You’re better,” Sirius interrupted, wiping his nose. His shadow turned to face Dumo in the dark, and though he couldn’t see his face, he could picture the earnest expression. “In every way. Please don’t tell anyone about this, though.”

“It never even crossed my mind,” Dumo answered honestly. “I should let you sleep now. We have some busy weeks ahead of us, eh?”

“Bonne nuit, M—Dumo.” The name carried new weight and he let it sink in as Sirius laid back down and kicked his blankets back into place. Something told him this was the beginning of a very interesting story.

“Bonne nuit, Sirius. Welcome to our home.”

#fanfic #my fic #sweater weather #lumosinlove #sirius black #pascal dumais #celeste dumais #dumais kids

[missdawnandherdusk]

Love Story

Draco X Reader

Request: @dracofeltonmalfoy​: your heart breaks at seventeen when you realize that Draco doesn’t love you enough to not marry his betrothed, Astoria. It’s years later and though you’re still hesitant and bitter about what occurred, you still answer the call that Ginny makes to you to help Draco. 

A/n: Look at me posting!! And during midterm week no less!! Thank you so much for this request! (I promise I’m getting to the rest of them). And can I say that I am in love with grown up Draco? Like yes ma’am I’ll take them all. Maturity is attractive. Let me know what you think! I love y’all so much. 

“You don’t understand,” Draco paced the small room. “I have to marry her,”

“Sure,” I spat. “Marry Astoria. I don’t give a damn anymore Malfoy,” I hadn’t used his last name in such a malice tone in years. I could see the effect that it had on him, his face fell.

“Don’t say that,” He begged softly, “Please, I love you,”

“But not enough,” I raised an eyebrow at him. “What happened to everything that we planned? All of the things you promised me? Where did that Draco go?” My voice became thick with tears. “No, you’re so paranoid about your reputation... I’m not waiting around for you to figure out who you want or who you want to follow. I don’t care.” A heavy silence and I had decided. “Have a nice life, Draco.”

“Y/n,” He called as I stood to leave.

“No,” I snapped. “Just... no. I deserve more than this.” 

“I know,” He confessed in a small voice.

That was the last time I spoke to Draco Malfoy in years. At first, I was okay with it. I felt free. I had moved on, found someone new that made what he did to me hurt a bit less. It wasn’t the same, nor what I felt when I was with Draco, but it was enough for the moment. He didn’t last long, and my heart still waited for Draco on some nights, but I had grown up. I had grown confident. I was independent. I didn’t need anyone to tell me they loved me because I loved me. And that was enough. I had healed from having to walk away or face being cut off forever.

I assumed that Draco was happy. His union with Astoria was in the paper. The invitation I received was burned. Why he’d think to invite me left me aggravated and loathing him more than before. But that night I was weak. I cried for Draco Malfoy that night. I almost went. But I refrained. I knew nothing would change even if I did go, so I’d rather be left wondering than left crushed.

The next time I saw Draco’s name in the paper, it was splashed across the front page. A scandal that Skeeter couldn’t wait to publish and get her hands on. Astoria Malfoy caught in an affair with Blaise Zabini. I saw Draco’s stoic face, and though the image moved, and the small child in his arms squirmed, he remained static. I threw the paper down because though it was just a photograph, his eyes still bore into mine, in the same pleading look that he gave me before I left him. I wonder if he knew that I see the photo.

I wonder if he knew that I still loved him even after all these years.

And I had no intention of crossing paths with him. Though I thought about it. A lot. And maybe I had actually written the letter before I burned it... but I decided that no. I was not interfering with his life.

I just never thought that he’d interfere with mine. Well, Harry interfered with my life. Well, Ginny did.

Ginny and I got lunch every once in a while, to catch up along with Hermione. Now that our Hogwarts days and the war was over, an amity fell between the three of us. And it was nice to see some old faces that didn’t cause my heart to rabbit trail into painful memories.

It was a phone call that I had gotten that interfered with my quaint Friday night. 

“Are you in town?” Ginny’s voice sounded strained and frantic.

“Yes, why?” I set down my book, standing.

“Can you come over? We... have a situation...” She voiced.

“What sort of situation?” I pressed, going looking for my shoes and cloak. “Harry just did a spell wrong and now he can’t speak English situation or Ron and Harry tried to do something stupid on their brooms and need medical attention sort of situation?” I teased lightly.

“It relates more to the former...” Ginny sounded almost hesitant to give me details. Her voice was suddenly far from the receiver and muffled. “No, Scorpius, put that down! Harry! No don’t encourage him!” That caught my attention.

“Ginny, what in Merlin’s name!?” I demanded.

“Please just get over here, you were better than we were at potions,”

“Ginny,” I baited.

“Thank you!” Was all she got out and I heard a crash before the line disconnected.

Utterly shocked and standing in deafening silence I let out a frustrated growl. After grabbing my carpet bag of miscellaneous counter curses, antidotes, and talismans I took the Floo network to the Potter’s.

And the sight before me was something that I would not have ever imagined. Draco was slung over Harry’s shoulder, looking intoxicated and completely out of it. Nothing like the cold refined man that I knew him to be. Then Scorpius was running around with Albus all trying to be corralled by James and Ginny while Lily laughed in the background, sitting on the counters.

Deciding that Harry could help with the children more than I could, I rushed to his side and took Draco off his hands, supporting him.

“What’s wrong with him?” I bit out, watching as Harry scooped up Albus as Ginny swooped in and caught Scorpius.

“Nothing, well, he’s been drugged but we’re sure it should wear off in a few hours.” Harry appeased, almost nonchalant.

“Drugged?” I demanded, leading Draco to a well-loved recliner.

“I’m finnnnne,” Draco slurred, his fine blond hair hanging into his eyes in a complete mess. “You have such pretty eyes Y/n,” Draco’s head lulled back against the recliner back as his half- opened eyes gazed into mine.

“Yeah, okay,” I smiled sweetly and gave an alarming look to Ginny—Harry having disappeared into the house with the three other children. “You’ve got to be bloody joking,” I hissed, nearing her.

“I know! Harry was filming him. You should have heard him on the way over. Wouldn’t shut up about you.”

“Get him upstairs.” I begged, exasperated and rubbing my face. “I’m going to find Harry.”

“What? Why?” Ginny’s eyebrows furrowed as she set Scorpius down now that he was calmed with the lack of the other children.

“Because no one makes fun of Draco!” I shouted, not realizing the depth of my words, or how much I sounded like I did back at Hogwarts... when Draco loved me.

Ginny and I both seemed to grasp this as I went red and sighed, going to find Harry. After throwing his phone out the third-floor window, I headed back down a level to where Ginny had taken Draco to a spare room. I found Draco asleep in the bed and Ginny leaning against the doorjamb.

“He’s still asking for you,” Ginny muttered. “He wants to know where the ‘fairest maiden has gone and when will she return’” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groaned, distressed. “How am I supposed to deal with him like this?”

“You probably know better than any of us.” Ginny pointed out. “Isn’t there a counter curse? Or something that you have or know?”

“In all my years I’ve seen nothing close to this. It’s like he’s drunk and on Veritaserum and Amorentia and believe me there is no legal potion out there with that sort of affect.”

“So... what do we do with him?” She asked.

“Wait it out? That’s all I know to do.” I paused. “I’ll stick around and make sure he doesn’t start to die or anything... but I can’t fix him,”

Ginny nodded and gave me a pity look. “Are you going to be okay?”

“That is not the question to ask right now,” I muttered, shrugging off my cloak. “Go on up to Harry and your little ones. Make sure Scorpius is alright, I’ll look after him,”

“If you need anything,” She baited.

“I’ll call,” I smiled.

Alone in the room, I sighed and stared at him before heading to the edge of the bed and sitting gently on the edge.

“Draco?” I asked softly, trying to hide the hurt that sparked in my chest. 

“Y/n, my fair maiden,” He slurred, trying to get up.

“No, no, you need to lie down,” I scolded, pushing him back down, pressing my hand to his forehead—he didn’t have a fever.

“As my lady commands.” He mumbled, causing me to withdraw my touch.

“Don’t.” I inhaled sharply. “You need to sleep Draco. You need to get better.”

“I’m already better with you here,” A dopey smile crossed his face.

“Oh my god Draco!” I snapped, standing, pacing the small room. “Stop saying things like that! You don’t mean them, and I don’t want to hear it!”

When I didn’t get a response from him, I looked over and he was fast asleep at an awkward angle. Sighing, I brushed the stray strands of silky hair from his face and slowly righted him, taking off his shoes and socks positioning him in the center of the bed. After I laid a blanket over him, I sat in the lone chair that was in his room and taking my book from my bag, started again.

It neared eleven at night, and he still hadn’t woken back up. My book finished, I sighed again and stood, stretching. Leaving his room, I saw Harry nodding off in his chair downstairs, Scorpius in his arms, also asleep.

“To bed with you,” I smiled, helping him up.

“Draco?”

“Still asleep.” I informed. “I’m gonna change and I’ll be back to watch him.” 

_______________________

Draco blinked, his head pounding, trying to keep up with the blurred image around him. The first thing he noticed was the blanket over him and his shoes were gone and that you were asleep in the chair next to his bed and this bed was most certainly not his—neither were you for that matter. His memory was fuzzy, and he didn’t remember much, and he didn’t like not remembering.

In an attempt to get up, he woke you, not sure why some part of him cared. He didn’t ask to be taken care of like a child. He processed that he was at the Potter’s for some godforsaken reason, and that you were next to him. Some part of him wished he was just having a really awful nightmare.

“Draco?” You asked sleepily.

Who else would it be?

“Yes,” He spoke quietly.

“Are you... you again?” You mumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He snapped, defensive that you were there, or anywhere near him. The nightmare continued.

“You were drugged... were acting weird for a while... I had to throw Harry’s phone out a window.” Your words made some sense... except the last part.

“Why would you do that?” He mused, enjoying your half-asleep state.

“He recorded you... was making fun of you... wasn’t right...” You stretched and rubbed your face yawning.

“I see,” There was a pang in his heart at your words. Something reminiscent in them. Maybe this wasn’t a nightmare after all.

You nodded and stood, staggering slightly. “How long have you been there?”

“What time is it?” You asked weakly. 

“Five in the morning,”

“Mhmm... twelve hours? Finished my book.” You gestured vaguely and yawned again. “M’gonna head back home.”

You started to walk towards the door and almost fell. He was there to catch you though. Your hands clutched at his shirt, running the fabric through your fingertips.

“Okay, yeah. You’re going to stay right here,” Draco muttered. “Because I am not dragging you down those stairs or back home.”

“I’m fine, I’ll get Ginny to take me home,” You yawned gesturing vaguely, your eyes still didn’t open all the way.

“No, you’re not. You’re sleep deprived, and whereas I can handle it, you can’t.” However long he had been asleep—twelve hours apparently—had given him enough rest to be completely awake and alert.

“You’re bossy.”

He chuckled at your sleep ridden words and moved you to his bed, tucking you under the blanket he had been under. You smiled and inhaled them deeply, relaxing instantly. He wondered why you thought of him as a reason to relax.

When he got up to leave, your eyes opened partly.

“Where are you going? You need to rest more. You were drugged.” 

“I’ve dealt with worse drugs Y/n,”

“Mmm I don’t think you’ve ever been like that. I’ve seen you high and drunk and that was... something else.” You mumbled. “Please rest Draco. Stay with me and sleep.”

Your words were like daggers to his heart. Were you aware that you were saying them? Surely you couldn’t be, because surely you wouldn’t ever mean them. It had been too long since you ever murmured those words.

“Am I not allowed to find to where my son has gone?” He mused, knowing you’d let him go for that and then be too far into sleep to notice that he didn’t come back.

You hummed in agreement he supposed. Just as he went to close the door, he heard you jumbled words again.

“Why would you say that?” There was hurt and confusion in your tone. “Why would you...?”

Not knowing whatever that was about, Draco closed the door softly behind him and sighed. He felt disgusting. He wanted nothing more than a warm bath and some fresh clothes and for Merlin’s sake a comb. But those things would have to wait, because bright blue eyes blinked up in the early morning as they always did.

“Good morning my little birdie,” Draco smiled, pulling Scorpius into his arms. “Quite a change of scenery here isn’t it?” He mused, to a nodding giggling Scorpius.

“Draco, you’re awake,” The tired voice belonged to Ginny, who sounded surprised even in her weary state.

“I am,” A quiet pause. “Thank you... I’m not quite sure what happened last night but...”

“Do you have any memory at all?” Ginny asked, taking out a jar of applesauce, setting a bowl and spoon for Scorpius.

“I... no. I was at the Gala, next thing I know, I wake up and Y/n is asking if I’m me again,” Draco thanked her and began to spoon feed Scorpius the apple puree.

“Are you, you?” Ginny asked, leaning against the counter before setting off to brew a pot of coffee.

“Quite,” He clipped. “What does that even mean? What happened last night?”

Unbridled terror set in Draco’s chest as Ginny recounted the night back to him. The only thing that kept him from breaking something was the toddler in his arms, clinging to him.

“I... I was asking for Y/n?” Draco asked, his voice shaking.

“Honey, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say even intoxicated and drugged, you knew she’d be there for you,” Ginny raised her eyebrow at him. “You wanna explain that?”

Draco shot her a cold look and went back to aiding Scorpius eat. Maybe that had been why you asked why he would say something like that... and that was a valid and honest question: why would he? He had gotten over you. That was that. He moved on.

Not that he loved Astoria. No, he could never see her as more than someone who drove you away from him. And perhaps that was the reason behind her affair. Maybe it was because she knew that he didn’t love her, and she didn’t love him. Some part of him wished that she had just been honest with him... then it wouldn’t be such gossip in the Wizarding World. They could have divorced and gone on their own ways. But perhaps not. The marriage was arranged. It would take more than a divorce to end it. Perhaps the scandal was for the best after all.

“Thank you for your hospitality, but I’m afraid I have to go,” Draco said softly. 

“Draco,” Ginny chided. “You can’t just leave her here,”

“I can do as I please,” Draco snapped harshly before remembering himself. “Thank you, once more,”

Draco only hesitated when he went to fetch his shoes from the spare room, and caught sight of you sleeping soundly, a soft smile on your face. Something in his chest distorted a bit more.

_________________________

I woke in the late morning, semi remembering why I was at Ginny’s, then it all came flooding back. I didn’t even have to ask where Draco had gone because I knew he had gone. I knew he’d leave at the first chance he’d get.

Apologizing and thanking Ginny, I headed back home to shower and don clean clothes. Ginny gave me a worried look and said to call if I needed anything. I assured her I was fine and wasn’t going to have an emotional breakdown. Crying while I showered meant nothing.

I was fine.

Monday at work, Harry found me in the staff room fixing a cup of tea.

“You’re going to have to talk to him eventually,” Harry nudged my shoulder as we stood at the mini coffee bar, not even having to specify who he thought I should speak to.

“I’m not gonna follow him around like a lost puppy Harry, I’m done with that.” I shifted the weight on my feet. “He’s grown, he can handle himself,”

“Well I get that, but you can... act human at least. You’re shutting him out completely.” Harry pointed out. “And I don’t think either of you want that,”

“I wouldn’t know what he wanted,” I sighed in vain. “It’s not that easy Harry,” I pressed, cradling my mug in my hands. “I haven’t worried about him before, why should I now?”

“Because when he was drugged all he could do was ask for you and you dropped everything to make sure he was alright and slept in a chair for a night to keep an eye on him?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“And maybe it was the drug and maybe I’m a decent person,” I refuted.

“All I’m saying I’ve been his work partner for a better half of five years and I’ve never seen him like this. He’s shutting everyone else out since the affair... everyone but you,” Harry’s green eyes reaffirmed his words.

I stared at my tea and didn’t say a word. I didn’t want to believe Harry’s words. I didn’t want to entertain the idea that maybe there was something left between Draco and I. But no matter how much I didn’t want to, I still thought about it all day during work, despite my best efforts.

How fitting it was that it was raining as I stepped onto the London street. Typical of London, no doubt, but it seemed as a sign all the same. Going to cast a shielding charm I froze when I saw in my peripheral pale skin and near white hair. I tried not to pay him any mind, but it seemed that whatever intentions I had were stopped by the words Harry had said earlier. My eyes wandered out to the city streets as rain started to fall slightly harder.

“Y/n?” Draco called my attention, his use of my name barely having any life in it.

“Yes?” I tore my attention away from the view.

“It’s raining,”

“Stellar observation,” I commented, remembering my shielding charm, creating an umbrella over me.

“Perhaps you would like to get out of it?” His voice was hesitant. “I suppose I do owe you for Friday night,”

That caught my attention and I finally turned to look at him. His was reserved, guarded. Yet there was something in his eyes that he couldn’t hide. A hope. A wish. A fantasy that I had written myself out of.

“You don’t owe me anything,” I finally whispered.

A sad sort of smile played at his lips. His eyes still didn’t leave mine as if we were transfixed on another, the stars wishing us to remain connected.

Screw the stars.

“Have a nice evening,” I ushered out before Apparating back home.

It was that night that I gave in. For the first time in almost ten years I gave in. There was a small fabric box tucked into my closet, collecting dust. Green and black with silver engravings. Tears streaming down my face, I sat on my bedroom floor and opened it.

It was every letter he wrote me. I should have burned them long ago, but I never did.

~

My Dearest, Y/n,

In the midst of this darkness, you are the only light I need. I’d face a world full of demons for the sake of you, my angel. I know it is dark now, and this path isn’t ideal, but I will fight for you, I will fight with you. Stand by my side my dearest angel. Be the fairytale maiden in this narrative and let me be your hero. I’ll never leave you, my love. And when morning light comes, I shall be in your arms again and my world will be complete.

Look after my heart, I’ve left it with you, 

Your Draco

~

My Beloved, Y/n,

Do you know what my paradise would be? You and me, away from it all. Free and able to love and live freely. Rainy days and warm cups of tea. Even without a fire to keep us warm, the warmth of your smile will keep me from freezing even on the coldest night. And though it may be nothing more than you reading a book or watching the sun rise, you’d be my goddess, the reason I existed, the one that I praised and prayed to each morning and evening. My paradise would be you and I, in a heaven of our own when I could worship you in every way, in every language known to man.

Your Draco

~

My Darling, Y/n,

How this summer grows longer with every day that passes. I wish that I weren’t away in Paris having to accompany my parents. I’d much rather be in your arms. And each night I watch the stars and the moon, knowing that you are doing the same. We are watching the same moon after all, no matter how far apart we are. That gives me more hope that you are true, and not a dream that I’ve let run wild.

And just as the night that I could not see the moon because of the clouds, I know that even now, though I do not see you, I know you are still there and that you still love me. You are my moon, my darling. You are my stars, my night sky. You hold every bit of majesty and wonder as they do.

I shall be back soon my love, 

Your Draco

~

Though the pile of unread letters was still tall, my vision was blurred by tears and heart wrenching sobs that broke from my chest. Hugging my knees and hiding my face in my arms, I wept. For the first time in years, I let myself mourn Draco Malfoy. For the love that I had for him. For the love that we shared. For the boy I knew in Hogwarts and for the man I resented. For the Draco Malfoy that called to me while drugged and inebriated. For the Draco Malfoy who had tried to make amends. For the Draco Malfoy I had turned down.

I mourned the girl in the mirror as well. For her broken jaded heart. For the years she spent alone and in denial. I mourned the girl who would still do anything for him if he’d only ask. I mourned the girl who was tired of trying to be strong on her own. I mourned the girl who craved companionship even though she was confident in herself.

I cried for the lovers in the letters. I held them close to my chest and cried. Tears dripped off of my cheeks and onto the faded aged parchment. Senseless words left my lips as I tried to rationalize these emotions. As I tried to make sense of this feeling—something that I had neglected for too long.

The hour was late as my fire burned lower and lower in my hearth. I sat curled up under a blanket on the floor with a mug of tea. Watching the flames, I let myself reminisce about the past. About Draco. About what could have been. A small smile lingered on my lips as gentle tears fell occasionally.

The rest of the week, I didn’t run into Draco. Not that I sought him out. Or that our departments ever crossed. Or that I cared.

I did however run into a former Malfoy in Diagon Alley a week after having to babysit Draco. 

“Astoria,” my voice was calm and gentle as rage lurked beneath.

“Y/n,” she seemed almost happy to see me as she came forward to hug me. My cold step back stopped her, her eyes finding my judgemental gaze. Her demeanor changed. 

“Of all the people I know, I thought you’d understand,” her voice was guarded and hurt.

“Thought I’d understand?” I nearly gasped, surprised at my anger towards her. “I know Draco like I know my own mind. I hope you’re happy because you’ll never find someone that trusting and kind again.” Our glares combatted another as tension grew between us.

“You walked out on him same as I did.” She accused. “Who do you think had to pick him up from that?” Her words were sharp as I took a breath in.

“I walked away because he had to marry you!” I snarled. “I’d never walk out on him if I had another choice!” We were starting to draw attention of passersby. I didn’t really care. “I chose his happiness over mine,”

“Oh really?” She didn’t seem convinced.

“I chose your happiness over mine, even.” I realized. “He had to get married. He had to marry rich. A pureblood. Someone his parents approved of. He desperately wanted their approval...” my voice fell as the memories came flooding back. “That made him happy back then, doing what he thought was right...”

“You should be thanking me then!” Astoria exasperated. “I gave him his happiness!”

“Are you serious?” I demanded. “You broke his heart! You left him with a child alone! You publicly humiliated him! In clearing your name from the Malfoy’s you’ve ruined his life! And you think he’s happy now!?”

“How about we ask him?” She countered; her gaze fixed on someone in the distance.

I whirled around, meeting curious jaded blue eyes as he strolled down the lane. 

“Draco,” The soft gasp left my lips.

“What’s the meaning of this?” His voice was calm despite the firmness it held as he addressed me, not Astoria.

“Nothing,” I answered softly. “It’s nothing,”

“Sure, defend his honor and call it nothing,” Astoria sneered.

“You don’t get to talk,” I snapped, turning back to her. “You’ve done enough.”

“Y/n,” Draco chided softly, taking a place beside me. “I can handle this,”

“Draco,” I argued, looking up at him only to be silenced by a steady pleasing gaze from his eyes.

“Astoria,” He finally greeted, and I could see his guard go up. There was a warning in his single word and something passed between them.

“Draco,” She nodded then turned to leave without another word. He went to leave as well, and I caught his arm.

“Draco, hang on,” I called.

As he faced me, a sadness lingered in his eyes. I wondered about Harry’s words and how he was shutting everyone out. Everyone but me.

“If that offer is still open...” I tested. “I’d love to get out of the rain with you,”

Calculations ran through his eyes and I could see each one. For a moment I thought my request was a lost cause. That he was about to turn me down as I turned him down not a few days ago. Our eyes locked and the stars seemed to draw us back together. Now... now I felt something different. Something new in my heart towards Draco. It wasn’t what it had been before, but something morphed, changed, unyielding.

“Alright,” He nodded with a sigh.

“If you don’t want to... you don’t owe me anything Draco,” I rushed out, taking a small step back.

“Publicly defending my honor might count for something,” He mused softly. “Shall we?”

“I think I mentioned tea,” A soft chuckle left my lips as we entered Florean Fortescue Ice Cream Parlor.

“This is a favorite of Scorpius’,” Draco murmured. “I’ve grown accustomed to it...” He paused. “You used to like it as well,” A small smirk lingered on his face. “Has that changed?”

“No,” I admitted, flushing a bit pink.

“Butter pecan, waffle cone?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Waffle bowl,” I amended. “I’m not a child,”

“Oh, I’m sure,” He let out a soft laugh and ordered for the two of us. He hadn’t changed either, he still chose mint chocolate chip in a sugar cone.

“So, where’s Scorpius, he’s not old enough for Hogwarts, is he?” I asked as we sat at a small table outside.

“Merlin, no,” Draco chuckled. “He’ll be six in January, and at the moment he’s with my mother. She watches him while I’m away at work,” He said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“How’s he doing with—um...” I asked timidly,

Draco’s smile sobered as his gaze dropped to the table to the used napkins that had gotten the stickiness off of our hands and left colorful wrappings from the cones.

“Or not,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It wasn’t my place,”

“Still the apologetic I see,” A sad sort of smile hit his lips. “And he’s taking it hard... harder than I am, I think. I knew she didn’t love me... I don’t think he ever understood it all...”

“I’m so sorry,” I offered.

He shot me an amused look.

“I mean it,” I insisted. “It’s not fair for either of you...” 

“Thank you,” Genuine gratitude held in his voice.

“Oi, Malfoy! Lunch ended twenty minutes ago!”

I heard a familiar voice and turned to see Harry walk into the small shop. As soon as Harry saw me sitting across from Draco, his demeanor changed and a grin grew on his face as if to say: ‘I told you so,’ but to which one of us I wasn’t sure.

“Hi Y/n,” Harry said cheerfully.

“Not a word, Potter,” Draco and I said simultaneously before catching the other’s gaze. Harry and I began to laugh, and I heard the gentle sound of Draco’s true laughter—something he rarely did, even when I knew him, but I cherished the sound all the same.

“I’m glad you two got to catch up, I am, but Draco, Mulligan has my arse because you’re missing,” Harry air-quoted the last word.

Sighing, Draco stood. “Y/n,” Was all he said as a goodbye before he and Harry set off.

I sat and stared at the empty space he left for a while, wondering what was going on between us. Was something going on between us? My heart said yes but my mind said no. I had forfeited the right to have anything with him. I walked away.

But still I wondered.

The next morning my phone kept chiming. Again, and again it wouldn’t stop with notifications and calls. I groaned and grabbed it off my beside table and squinted at it. A lot of the notifications were from friends and people I rarely talked too. One of them was from Ginny. I opened that one.

“How was your date?” It read and showed a picture of Draco and me at the ice cream parlor yesterday. We looked happy. The headline read:

Malfoy Moving On? Head Auror Caught with Old Classmate Sweetheart After Scandal

Then it dawned on me. This made the news. National news.

Scrolling through my phone, I found a number that I had but never called before. I had gotten it from Harry and Ginny long ago for emergences if Harry got injured on a case. I don’t think he knows I have it.

“Hello? Auror Malfoy,” A slightly tired voice answered, and it drew a smile on my lips before I remembered why I called.

“Draco,” I began, not knowing how to start this conversation.

“Y/n? How did you get my number?” In his weariness his tone was a lot harsher and blunt. His words stung.

“Harry gave it to me in case I needed it if something went wrong on one of your cases,” I explained softly. “I can delete it if you want... I was just wondering if you’ve seen this morning’s paper yet,”

“I have not,” He replied.

“Oh,” Anxiety grew in my chest. “Call me when you do?” I squeaked out. “Or don’t. Yeah, bye,” I quickly hung up and screamed at the ceiling, throwing my phone across the room. “Stupid Draco Malfoy!” I shouted at no one. Staring at the ceiling I wasn’t aware of how long I sat there.

Then my phone started ringing across the room. Of course, it was Draco.

“Hello?” I answered timidly.

“When can you be at the Manor? We need to talk,” Nothing scared me more than those four words.

“I—uh... half an hour?” I fumbled for words. “Draco—” The line disconnected. “Draco!” I yelled in frustration.

My body trembled as I got ready, knowing that that last time we had “talked” had ended our relationship and set us on different paths. I hoped to the stars that that wouldn’t happen again. I... I liked having Draco in my life. I wanted to be there for him, because according to Harry, I was the only one he would let in. Then there was the matter of whatever happened the night he was wasted and calling for me.

Taking the Floo network, I stepped into Malfoy Manor—a place I hadn’t been in over ten years. Draco was waiting for me in the grand foyer, appearing quite unkept, his hair a rumpled mess and his dress shirt still untucked, the tie hanging loosely around his neck.

“Hello,” I offered softly.

He hummed a greeting and motioned for me to follow him. I thought that I was going to throw up with the amount of anxiety bubbling in my stomach. I didn’t like this at all.

Leading me into the grand kitchen he nodded to the island bar where two mugs of tea had been set out. My heart panged as I looked at the warm liquid that held the right hue of creaminess and I wondered if Draco remembered how I took my tea after all this time.

“I’m having Mulligan and Granger take care of it,” was all he said as he took a careful sip of his tea, his gaze fixed upon the newspaper on the counter before us.

“Take care of it?” I pressed, frowning.

“The photos. The newspapers.” He filled in.

“No, I get that,” I almost rolled my eyes, “But why? It’s just gossip...” 

“Why?” Draco almost snapped. I looked to my tea ashamed. He took a breath. 

“Do you regret it? Yesterday?” I barely spoke.

“Why would I?” He acted if I were the insane one here, “We went out. We enjoyed each other’s company. It was fine.”

“Then why would you tell Mulligan to— “

“I didn’t.” He stopped me. “He told me he was doing it. He was supposed to have stopped it from ever happening.”

“You knew. You knew this was going to happen,”

“Yes, or something like it, and I tried to stop it. The press has been... unforgiving of my name and business as of late and I didn’t want to drag anyone else into it,”

I nodded and looked down till I heard him sigh.

“Especially not you,” He tacked on.

“What?” My sleep deprived brain was trying to catch up.

Draco pursed his lips and stared at the photo of us smiling at another on the front page.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe that I have forfeited the right to ask anything of you or hope to include you into my life in any way,” Melancholy riddled his words and my heart fell as I yearned to reach out for him.

“So, you’ve been avoiding me?” I didn’t understand the frustration I felt. “I... You—God above Draco.” I hissed. “Why don’t you let my make that choice myself? I forfeited that right just as much as you did,”

“I don’t see how,”

“I walked away from you... I made that choice.” 

“But did you have a choice?” Draco countered softly.

I didn’t have a response for that. Not a good one that I could defend well. Sure, I could claim I did and that I made the choice... but back then, our hands were tied. There was fear and war and uncertainty, and perhaps I didn’t have a choice after all.

He spoke before I had the chance to form a sound argument.

“As you know work with Harry as well.”

“Yes,” I acknowledged.

“And that a week ago Friday was a bit of a disaster for the both of us,”

“Wouldn’t be one of my least favorite nights, but a disaster... sure.” I drawled, raising an eyebrow. He ignored my taunt and pressed on.

“Harry suggested that I take you out to make it up to you. Hence the invitation that one day and then our date yesterday,” His explanation made me pause.

“That was a date?” I asked, anxiety growing in my chest of where this could go.

“I mean... it fit all the perimeters of a date.” He was testing the waters as much as I was.

I let out a short laugh.

“I suppose it did,” I nodded to the paper in front of us.

“He also said that perhaps I shouldn’t have to be inebriated to figure out and express my emotions toward you—or anyone for that matter,” He tacked on, a mumbled mess.

“I... you—”

“You asked me why I would say something like what I said,” Draco gave, pressing on, not giving me a moment to process. “I doubt you remember it—you were half awake—but... No matter how much I’ve lost the right and privilege, I want you in my life, Y/n. Apart of it, if you’re willing,”

They talked about time freezing around you and how everything comes into focus. And that there are moments when all of the heartache and pain will one day count for something, and perhaps this was it. This was that moment. That point that I could make all of the pain and tears mean something beautiful. Something not quite new, but no longer old and forgotten.

“I... I want you in my life too,” I whispered the confession. “It’s... it’s really nice... to have you back,” My gaze dropped to the counter and the tea in my hands as guilt pierced through me.

“Can... can you ever forgive me? For all the hurt and pain I’ve caused you? Have I done too much that there’s no hope?”

“I... I never blamed you.” I admitted. “Or if I did, I don’t now. But Draco, we’re both different people now. I... I need your patience. Because as much as I want to say yes, I... I don’t know. I don’t know what hurts are going to come back up or what scars might reopen... If you’re willing to deal with that...”

“If you’re willing to deal with the rumors and gossip and stuffy life that I lead... I’ll wait a thousand lifetimes for you to be ready again,”

________________________

The kindness and forgiveness in your eyes brought him back. Way back. To the Yule Ball when you had been introduced to him. It was a dance of formalities and posture. He knew that you were a bit of a flirt, but after spending time with you, he could see that your bright over-friendly personality earned you such a reputation.

When Draco was younger, when he was at Hogwarts, when you were by his side, he thought he knew three things that would never change.

The first was that he was a Malfoy. He had to marry rich, marry whoever his parents picked out for him. There was no debate about that. It was the way things were. Keep the pureblood line going and the wealth in the family, if not expound upon it. He was the only son of his parents and it was his duty to carry the name on, carry it higher. He was a Malfoy.

The second was that as soon as he saw your face, that all changed. There was no one quite like you. He had never met anyone who matched him heart and mind and yet somehow you were kind and gentle at the same time. Your intelligent eyes that made him forget his name. He knew there would never be a day that he didn’t love you. That freedom you gave. He loved you.

And thirdly: he was betrothed to Astoria Greengrass.

That was about a decade ago. Now, only one of those things held true. Blinking away the memories and thoughts, he met your intelligent determined eyes once more. Everything came crashing down around him. The truth.

Draco didn’t have to marry rich. He had and the girl he married had an affair with another man and he was free from the obligation. He was no longer engaged to Astoria. He no longer had to entertain her listless petty stories or her frivolous shallow needs. He had a son. That kept the family name going, that kept the pureblood line alive.

But Draco still loved you.

And God damn him if he wouldn’t find every way to express that to you.

Maybe that was the reason behind his further actions. It was the reasoning behind why he reached out to you, stroking your face softly as he did long ago. He caressed your cheek as if it were precious marble, a sculpture given to him by the gods.

And for the first time in ten years, Draco didn’t have to fantasize what it would be like to kiss you again. He didn’t have to desperately cling to how your lips felt against his. He didn’t have to deny how much he missed you.

Frozen under his touch, Draco worried that perhaps this was something he should regret. That he should stop. That he should deny still.

But your hand came up slowly, not to push him away but to hold him close as he held you, cradling his face as if he were the most precious thing to you. Your fingers curled into his hair, causing the butterflies in his chest to set flight. Your soft sounds were met with his steady purrs.

His tongue danced with yours in a forgotten waltz. Even after all this time you still tasted the same: sweet, alluring, and faintly like chai.

But you pulled away all too soon for his liking.

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day, Malfoy,” A smile curled on your lips.

“‘Til death do we part,” He jested lightly, earning a slight giggle from you as you pulled away and rebalanced yourself on the barstool.

“So... are we doing this? Like actually doing this?” You asked, fear lurking in your voice.

“I will do everything I can to make this right. To do this properly. To give you what you deserve,” He couldn’t quite understand why you laughed this time.

“I know you love your rules and traditions, but Draco I don’t need any of that and I don’t want any of that. I just want you. To get to know you again. To get to know Scorpius. I want my friend back,”

The desperate plea in your voice mirrored in your eyes and maybe he understood you a bit better and maybe himself, because he wanted that as well. He wanted you in his life. Woven into it. And possibly the first step to having that, was to get to know you again.

So, he would wait. He would learn. And he would love you till his dying day. 

“That would be enough,” Draco smiled softly and took your hand into his.

A few months of dates and quiet nights and lunches together in the break room and the rumors in the papers seemed to fade and the shock value seemed to wane to others. But Draco was still amazed that you decided to stay by his side. That you let him back into your narrative. That you completely adored Scorpius more than his own mother ever did.

As you crouched beside Scorpius and a peacock on the Manor grounds as the three of you took an evening stroll, the smile you gave him made him believe that the past ten years were nothing but a terrible dream. A trial to prove that he had earned this reward.

Though you had asked for patience, it turned out that he needed some as well. Draco had no idea how deep seeded the betrayal from Astoria and his supposed best friend affected him. There were times that he grew angrier than he meant to. There were times he was harsher than he wanted to be. There were times he was more distant than he needed to be. There were times that he was more reckless than he should be.

And there were times when something lingered in your eyes that he didn’t quite enjoy. Fear, or hesitancy. There were new boundaries that you had, and he had learned to respect. You weren’t the same girl he knew at Hogwarts. You were independent, confident, self-made, but still kind and gentle. You didn’t depend on him for everything. You didn’t lean into every touch. You didn’t smile at every jest. His perspective of you changed, and he loved every change made.

A weekend when Scorpius had gone to his parent’s house in Paris for a weekend was the night that Draco truly felt alone for the first time in a long time—since you had been back in his life. As the hour grew later, he paced his study, debating on going to see you, knowing well you’d still be awake.

As the ghosts of his past came to life and overpowered your gentle voice in his mind, Draco was decided. Drawing his wand, he apparated straight to you.

“What in Merlin’s name!?” You demanded, wand drawn, looking frantic, only relaxing when you saw that it was him.

“I... couldn’t sleep. Everything is...” His voice was small, like a frightened child.

You lowered your wand as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. Running a hand through your hair you sighed softly. He knew he was asking a lot—too much even. It had been a boundary of yours. You weren’t ready to sleep with him—innocently, not sensually—yet.

“Well, come on then,” You smiled softy, sliding over in your bed. “Just like old times,” His memory flickered back to the sleepless nights in the dorms at Hogwarts behind drawn drapes.

“This isn’t me trying—” Draco started, not wanting to push your boundary. He’d sleep on the couch for Merlin’s sake. He just wanted to be near someone who cared for him.

“I know,” You replied softly, reading him like an open book, as you were always able to. 

“And I don’t—”

You rose from your bed, going over to him.

“Still trust me?” You whispered, your hands running up his arms, earning a shudder from him.

Draco nodded; his gaze transfixed on you. He knew what the question meant. It had been a routine of yours at Hogwarts. When he couldn’t seem to get a grip on the day and came to you at night, you were always there to care for him.

And you were there now.

Slowly you unbuttoned his shirt, leaving it to the floor. Going over to your dresser, you pulled out one a shirt that he recognized as his and placed it in his hands. He gripped the fabric tightly.

“You kept this?” His eyebrow furrowed.

A shrug left your shoulders as you neared your dresser again, opening another drawer. “Cotton or fleece?” The question was soft.

“Cotton,”

“I have flannel?” You offered, pulling out a pair of plaid sweats.

“That’ll do,” Draco smiled as you handed him the pants; he gripped them tightly as well.

“You’re safe,” You encouraged, stroking his cheek. “No one’s going to hurt you. No one expects anything of you. You’re alright here... You’re with me,”

“You knew I was coming,” It wasn’t an accusation.

“Eventually, yes. You hate nights alone.” The warmth of your eyes was intoxicating. 

“I prefer it when you’re here,” He admitted.

“Then go change and we can get some sleep, yeah?”

That night had been quiet. It had taken some time, but eventually you laid in his arms, holding onto him as he held onto you. Silent tears fell for the both of you—of fear and acceptance and a new beginning. A step forward.

..........

Draco paced the floor, keeping a close watch to his temper as you arrived, looking confused and worried. And with the scarce information that he gave to you, it was well placed. Without a word—fearing that it might not be a kind one— he led you into the den, to where Scorpius was sitting on the couch, looking guilty and repentant.

“Scorpius,” Draco’s voice was concise and controlled. “Would you care to explain exactly what you told me to Miss Y/n?”

Some anger leaked through. A gentle hand on his shoulder reminded him to find calmness. A gentle smile on your face appeased and welcomed Scorpius as he began to speak.

“I... well... mother left. And papa had these letters... I found them and...I didn’t know who she was... but I thought—” the young boy stammered. “Father always has potions on hand down in his study... I thought that—if I just... he could be happy again,” Scorpius’ voice broke as he started to cry.

Your face crumpled softly, and Draco could see that you yearned to reach out to Scorpius and gather him into your arms but you refrained.

“So, you’re the one who drugged Draco,” You understood his son’s words, not nearly as upset as Draco had been because something else held your attention. “You kept my letters?” You seemed baffled. “All this time?”

Draco scoffed and his face remained stoic, but his cheeks tinged pink, affirming what you had said. And possibly it was the right thing to call you over to deal with this because with calmness and kindness that he never could find, you reprimanded Scorpius.

“Do you understand how dangerous that was?” You scolded. “Potions are not something to be played with or mixed. You could have really hurt your father.”

“I know,” Scorpius cried out, tears falling. “But—he... I thought I could get some answers. Find out who he loved—”

Your eyes met his with wonder and curiosity. There was no escaping that one. Draco wasn’t sure he wanted to avoid it.

“Okay,” Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, his face folded into a pained expression. “We’ll talk about this later young man, now go start your studies.”

“Yes sir,” Scorpius nodded and disappeared into the house.

“Draco don’t be hard on him,” You pleaded, reaching out to him. “He’s just a kid,”

“I know,” Draco sighed, taking your hands. “That’s why I called you. I knew you’d handle it better than I ever could.”

“I’m not his mother, Draco,” You reminded him softly. “I don’t have authority here,”

Draco held his tongue before he really did ask you to be Scorpius’ mother but Merlin he wanted to. And maybe you could see that in his eyes because you looked down, flushing.

“He does seem truly sorry,” You changed the topic quickly before something was confessed after all.

“I think so,” Draco looked to the door from Scorpius had exited. Sighing softly, a hopeless chuckle left his lips. “As livid I am that he got into my stuff, and that I was drugged by a six- year-old, it brought me back to you,”

“I suppose it did,” You smiled. “As long as he promises to keep from your stuff, and to come to talk to you instead of taking matters into his own hands... I don’t see any harm.”

Draco nodded and pulled you into his arms, finding comfort in your solace and steady compassion.

“So...” You drawled, pulling away from him. “You kept my letters?” A mischievous smirk fell upon your face as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” He admitted, defeated. “I know, I know. It’s wrong and—” You burst out laughing, causing him to pause.

“I kept yours too,” Beaming at him, you reached up and stroked his cheek. “Granted I didn’t read them until again the day we got caught in the rain...”

Draco chuckled softly and drew you in for a kiss, marveled that you were even standing in front of him.

______________________________

There was a day that Draco did ask me. Another four words that made my heart soar and want to scream from the rooftops that he was truly mine. It had taken some time, make no mistake. It was redefining what it meant to be married and figuring out what it meant to marry for love and not advantage, but we made it. There was love, patience, and a strong foundation.

“Ginny, I can’t do this,” I whispered, tearing my eyes away from the mirror. “I... I’m not a wife... I—”

“Hush,” She ordered and fixed a hair that was out of place. “You’re the perfect one for him,” 

“But... me? Getting married? I can’t.”

“You love him, don’t you?” She tested, and I nodded, not trusting my voice. “And you can’t see a day without him in your future?” I nodded again, fighting back tears.

Ginny’s face softened. “I know,” She took my hand. “It’s a lot and it’s scary sometimes, but you deserve this. You deserve a happily ever after with a man who is willing to do what it takes to give it to you,”

I looked down at the floral lace of my dress, blinking away the moisture in my eyes. 

“Maybe you’re right...” I murmured.

“Of course, I am,” She smiled and picked up my bouquet, offering it to me.

Cannon in D began, and the door opened. My veil hid the water in my eyes and the fear on my face. Fears that faded when I saw him at the end of the aisle. He looked just as nervous as I did. It made me smile. It was so like him to be nervous about this. I almost laughed.

I took Harry’s elbow and inhaled deeply.

“You look beautiful,” He murmured.

“Thank you,” I mumbled back as we made our way down the aisle.

Harry placed my hand into Draco’s, and I felt secure. I felt safe and sure of my future. My eyes darted to Scorpius who I had seen grown up the past couple of years. He waved to me and I giggled before turning back to Draco.

There were tears in his eyes as he beamed down at me, our vows exchanged, and rings placed. 

“Don’t you cry,” I scolded quietly. “Because then I’ll start crying,”

“I’ve waited so long for this day,” He defended. “I’m allowed to cry,”

I laughed as my husband leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, sealing our promise to each other.

.

masterlist

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more like this:

beautifully beastly

together in paris

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[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Mabel’s Worry

Collab with @clownwry! They’ve been super sweet and very nice, and after getting inspired by this post, I decided to write a full on-fic about it... but then it spiraled out of control, so enjoy an angsty story featuring the sweater twins!

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel sat up quickly, breathing just as heavy as an Olympic runner. She shook her head to clear it and she hugged her knees in self-embarrassment. It was just a stupid nightmare. Vague, no real plot, but still carried the overall message, the fear, anxiety, and still made Mabel’s blood run cold and sweat sparkle on her forehead. She needed to calm down, get herself together. Milk. Warm milk.

And so she quietly got out of bed and left her shared attic bedroom for downstairs. Despite being gone for nine months, she still knew this dark home by heart. She could walk it blindfolded if needed, but the moonlight leaking in through the triangular windows helped her in her journey. That and a small light coming from the living room. Like a moth to a flame, Mabel sleepily dragged her socked feet to the room and peaked through the doorway, half of her face hidden by wood and shadow.

Grunkle Ford was sitting in the armchair, reading a book in the light of a lamp. Mabel’s spirit was lifted, relieved and happy to see him, but she was hesitant to bother him. He was happy with his book, she really shouldn’t bother him with her own stupid problems. She should probably just go get her drink and go to bed and leave him alone. But then Grunkle Ford’s instincts alerted him of a spy and he looked up and instantly smiled.

“Mabel,” His blissful facial expression dropped suddenly remembering that she went to bed a few hours ago and it wasn’t quite daylight yet. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

This really wasn’t like her, for words to fail leaving her mouth, for her to be silent or non-vocal. But all Mabel could do was barely step into the light, hands behind her back, and shrug with her eyes to the floor. She was silent because she was afraid of what she would say if she dared to give herself the opportunity to talk. Ford grew more concerned, but he knew what to do; he had more practice under his belt now than he did months ago. He smiled softly at his niece, closed his book and sat it on the dino skull, and patted his thigh. “Come here.”

Mabel looked up and bit her lip. The dame broke over her uncle’s kindness. With watering eyes she ran into his lap and clung onto him tightly, burying her face in his chest and whimpering as tears left her eyes. Ford hugged her back tightly and petted her soft long brown hair. The girl might be thirteen, but that doesn’t mean she would stop having nightmares or no longer need comfort. Moses knows, as much as he would deny it, Ford still had nightmares and still needed reassurance. Not to mention it was well-earned after everything he and his family had been through… everything he put his family through…

Mabel was mumbling something into his maroon sweater. Ford thought it was moans, sobs, but as he listened he could actually make out words. “M’sorry… m’sorry…”

“Hey, hey.” Ford said softly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.”

“... didn’t mean t’bother you…”

“Oh,” Ford cooed as gentle as a lamb. “Oh, sweetheart, you could never bother me. Never.”

Mabel sniffed. “M’sorry.” Whether she was still sorry for bothering him or sorry for being sorry was a bit unclear, but Ford decided it didn’t matter.

“It’s alright.” Ford eased. “It’s alright, my dear.”

After a few minutes of letting Mabel cry into his chest, Ford could feel Mabel make a sharp shiver in his hold. He got a pretty good idea, and so he gently had Mabel let him go. She whimpered like a puppy denied a treat, but she watched with sparkling eyes as Ford slipped off his maroon sweater, revealing a thin long-sleeved white undershirt, and he sweetly pulled it over Mabel’s head and smiled at her. She helped him by slipping her arms into the correct holes and she grinned as she now wore Ford’s old red sweater. Nearly every day he wore a Mabel Sweater she had made for her, whether she mailed it to the Stan O’ War while they were apart, or she gave it to him in person. Only every so often did he wear his old sweater, but they were both glad he did.

Mabel allowed her head to sink deeper into the worn yarn. Her senses and lungs were drowned in Ford’s scent, which brought along happy memories and good emotions. She hugged Ford again and he happily held her, petting her hair and just being there. 

A few minutes of silence passed, and Ford made a prediction that it was a good time to check on her verbally. “Feeling better? Mabel?” He looked down and Mabel was asleep, one arm still around him, one hand holding onto his undershirt. Ford chuckled warmly in his chest, slowly stood, and carried Mabel to the attic to tuck her in.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Dipper, they’re ready!” Mabel called.

Dipper hurried up the stairs and ran into his shared bedroom, plopped on the beanbag, and Mabel started the call on the laptop they had on the floor between the two beds. The grunkles answered at once, sitting at the table and grinning.

“Well hey there, gremlins! How was your week?” Stan greeted.

“Pretty good, just the usual school stuff.” Dipper answered.

“Did you get the package?” Mabel asked.

Ford grinned and picked up the large sealed box and placed it on the table. “Yes, perfectly intact! We picked it up in Pevek two days ago.”

“What?! And you haven’t opened it?!”

“Oh, well we thought we should wait until…”

“You two will freeze!” Mabel shook her head and smiled. “Open it and get warm!”

Stan rolled his eyes as he pulled out his pocketknife and cut the tape. “Sweetie, in the last two years we’ve been sailing you’ve sent us three trunks full of blankets, eight pairs of gloves, at least a dozen sweaters for each of us, six scarves…”

“Not that we don’t appreciate it, we always love your packages, my dear.” Ford interrupted. “But you work too hard. We’re never cold thanks to you.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Mabel said firmly.

“Oh wow! Mabel!” Ford gasped happily as he pulled out a new green sweater-vest with golden diamonds and a long-sleeved salmon button up. “This is beautiful!” Ford also pulled out a regular dark-orange turtleneck.

Stan noticed there had been two stacks of things. Ford had already taken out his stack, so the old conman grinned as he plunged his hand into the box and grabbed his new baby-blue sweater with a sailboat on it. “Sweet! And look here!” Stan pulled out another sweater, this one being a warm cream color with tiny pinetrees on the neck and wrists and waist of the sweater. “Wow, Mabel! Just when I thought your sweaters couldn’t get more impressive… this is so cool!”

Mabel blushed over the compliments. “I’m glad you like them. There’s still…”

“Oh, my dear, this must have taken you ages!” Ford pulled out one last item: a large knitted blanket to go with the others, this one made with very thick yarn that was as soft as the melody of youthful days. It was very large and could easily cover both men, and it resembled the sky perfectly, being dark blue with white specks.

“Thank you, pumpkin, this is amazing!”

Mabel grinned and said, “Just please stay warm.”

Ford smiled and nodded. “Of course we will. We’re always careful, my dear. And thanks to you I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be cold.”

Mabel wasn’t sure if she bought it, the number of times she saw their chattering teeth, tight jaws, and rosy cheeks and noses in pictures, but she decided not to fight it and she just smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~

There are some benefits to living in the glorious year of 2014. Many different forms of communication allow people to keep in contact, no matter how far apart they are. So not only did Ford, Stan, Dipper, and Mabel, text every day and send pictures and emails, they always had their Saturday night/Sunday morning video call. Always. So, of course, Mabel and Dipper were a little concerned when no one responded to their text messages to ask if they were ready for the call.

“Hey guys! Ready?”

“Rise and shine, sleepy heads! Can’t wait to see you guys!”

“Are you guys okay? We understand if you can’t make it this week.”

“Is something wrong? We’re not mad, but could you please text us.”

“Guys, seriously, this isn’t funny…”

“If we don’t hear back from you guys I will call the FBI! The CIA!”

“You guys do know how to use your phones, right?”

“Are you guys hurt?! ARE YOU DEAD?!”

Dipper looked up from his phone and across his bedroom. Mabel was in Sweatertown on her bed, buried in her favorite nightgown. Dipper sighed and moved to sit next to her. “Mabel, it’ll be okay.”

“They’re jerks.” Mabel mumbled from within the maroon yarn.

Dipper smiled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll get payback when they finally answer.”

Mabel lifted her head just enough to peek at his twin. “But what if they never do…” And tears formed.

Dipper rubbed her back and said, “They will. I swear.”

But they didn’t. As time ticked from ten o’clock at night to midnight to even three o’clock in the morning, Dipper and Mabel stayed awake, waiting for a response, both of them knowing any attempt to sleep was futile. And when Mabel’s phone buzzed and rang for a video-call, they both dove and Mabel clicked the green button with a shaking hand.

~~~~~~~~

Stan gave his brother the mug of warm water. “You’re an idiot.”

Ford snorted and sipped the warm drink. “This isn’t coffee.”

“You don’t need coffee, you need to get hydrated.” Stan collapsed into the couch next to his brother. His eyes landed on the wall-clock, and he shot up quickly and ran for the bedroom. “DAMN IT!”

“What? What is it?!” Ford gasped.

“It’s Sunday!”

Ford groaned and slapped his forehead.

Stan grabbed his phone and found a dozen text messages from each kid and some missed phone calls. “Ah jeez, I know you’re wiped out, Sixer, but we gotta talk to these kids.”

“I don’t care if I’m on my deathbed, we’re calling them.” Ford hollered back as he loosened the grip of his blanket and Stan entered the room. His brother sat next to him and called Mabel’s phone.

At once Stan’s phone lit up with two distressed looking kids, both with wide eyes but missing their bedheads. “YOU’RE OKAY!” The two teenagers cried out.

Stan winced. “Kids, we’re really really sorry…”

“What happened?!” Mabel gasped. “Grunkle Ford, are you okay?! You don’t look very good, are you sick?!”

“Mabel, sweetie, I’m okay.” Ford eased. “I… erm, I fell overb-...”

“YOU FELL IN THE OCEAN?!” Mabel yelled in horror.

“Ssh, Mabel!” Dipper hissed, eyeing the door.

“Are you okay?! Are you on your way to a hospital?! Do you need anything? We can hitchhike…”

“Mabel, Mabel, please, I’m alright, Stanley’s been taking excellent care of me.” Ford said firmly. “I’m sorry we scared you, sweetie, but…”

“Well, good!” Mabel snapped, visibly angry and now full-on scolding. Stan and Ford glanced at each other nervously, getting flashbacks of scoldings from their mother. “You should be, knuckleheads! We can’t tell if you’re even still alive unless you tell us! Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you hear?! If something happened to you… I’m glad you’re happy and doing what you love, but PLEASE don’t kill yourselves doing it!” Mabel bit her lip as she realized she was yelling, and she used the long sweater sleeve to wipe at her damp eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Aw, pumpkin, it’s okay.” Stan replied calmly. “You’ve got every right to be mad at us. I’m sorry, I should have at least texted you. But I honestly didn’t cuz I was busy keeping this dork alive.” Stan teased, elbowing Ford and making him smile. “So, yeah, that was really scary and that wasn’t fair, but he’s gonna be just fine and we’re both okay and you know that now. Right?”

Mabel held her knees and sunk her face into Ford’s old sweater, only her eyes and the top half of her face visible now, but she wasn’t looking at them. “Yeah… Yeah, okay…”

“Mabel,” Ford said firmly. “Mabel, look at me.” He waited until her eyes were on him, and he smiled softly and said, “We’re okay. I promise, we’re both okay.”

Mabel couldn’t help but return the smile. “Okay… okay…” She sniffed and lifted her head a little, but her chin was still happily buried in red yarn. “So, tell us what happened? Was it the Kraken again?”

Stan grinned at the opportunity for a story, and the kids happily sat and listened.

~~~~~~~~~~

Almost fifteen-years-old. Dipper should know better than to run off into the woods after a dangerous anomaly, but he did it anyway. Mabel stayed home to make sure the monster didn’t come back, and was soon reunited with her boys as they arrived, breathing heavily. Dipper was okay for the most part. His arm was hurt and he had a black eye, but he was okay, and their grunkles were only a little scuffed and there was a leaf or two in Ford’s fluffy hair.

Mabel hurried to Dipper, but instead of hugging him like the three guessed she would, she smacked her brother over the head.

“Hey!”

“Mabel!”

“You KNUCKLEHEAD!” Mabel screamed. “Don’t you EVER do that again, you hear?! Don’t you dare! What were you thinking?! You just HAD to go after it! Couldn’t go inside like a normal person!”

“Good to see you too, sis.” Dipper muttered. “I had it under control.”

“I don’t care! What if you never came back…”

Dipper blinked and interrupted her. “Aw, Mabel, that was never gonna happen.”

Mabel bit her lip, held herself, and looked away.

“M-Mabel, I’m really sorry…”

“Here, let’s get you cleaned up first, and then we’ll talk about this, okay?” Stan eased, sensing that they needed a time-out. “C’mon, kid.”

Dipper sighed and followed Stan to the bathroom where they kept the first aid kit, leaving Ford alone with Mabel, who was well prepared to talk to her.

“Mabel, my dear, you have every right to be upset with him…”

“How could he do that?!” Mabel looked up at her uncle. “How could he think for a second it’s okay to just run off like that?!”

Ford chuckled a little to try to lighten the situation. “You know your brother. He has high ambitions and is extremely curious.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Mabel snapped. “It’s still stupid and selfish! I know he needs to do what he loves, but doesn’t he know how much I need him?! How can he just leave me behind?!”

Ford stared at Mabel. Her voice was cracking, her lip was trembling, and something in her eyes was screaming to be heard. Ford thought for a second, then dared to ask, “A-Are you talking about Stanley and I as well?”

Mabel sobbed. She yelled out in pain and collapsed on the bottom step, burning her face in her hands, and sobbed her heart out. Ford was stunned to hear her cry so hard, in so much emotional pain. She didn’t even cry this hard over any nightmares, and he had dealt with a handful of them. Poor Mabel was crying so hard and violently she gagged and retched occasionally, her body torn if she could cry or not but it was out of her control.

Ford got on his knees before her, but did not touch her. It broke his heart to see her so upset. And he and Stan had done this? Whatever it would take to fix it, he would do it. He was reluctant, but if sailing around the world with his brother was causing this much pain for their girl, then they would both agree to dock for good. “M-Mabel…”

“I understand…” Mabel mumbled through her tears and into her palms. “I understand why you had to go… why you both wanna go… b-b-but what if something happens to you?! How many times have you both gotten sick or hurt or nearly killed?! I miss you all the time and I’m always worried I’ll never see or hear from you again!”

“Oh, Mabel, sweetie…” Ford reached out a hand to put on her shoulder, but Mabel threw herself into Ford’s hold and he hugged her back tightly.

“I get it… I understand why you have to go… so WHY do I still feel this way?!” Mabel sobbed, clinging onto his uncle for dear life. “I’m so angry and scared and hurt! But I don’t want you to stop, I want you to sail cuz I know it makes you happy, but I need you to be okay!”

A lot of things clicked in Ford’s brain. Why Mabel always sent packages full of warm clothes. Why she always asked what they ate. Why she always checked on them. Why she was very observant and asked if they were okay if something was slightly off. Why she easily got worried if she didn’t hear from them. And why she always hugged them like she never wanted to let them go.

 Ford blinked his stiff eyes a few times and forced himself to keep it together. “I’m so sorry, Mabel. You and your brother are everything to us. I love you two more than anything. If… If sailing causes you this much distress we can…”

“NO! No no no!” Mabel screamed in horror, holding on tighter. “No, please don’t stop cuz of me! I don’t- That doesn’t matter!”

“Mabel Pines,” Ford said firmly and readjusted his hold on her so he could look her straight in the eye. “You matter.”

“I-I know. I know.” Mabel breathed. “But… please don’t stop sailing cuz of me. Please. I don’t want you to stop. But… I want you and Grunkle Stan to be okay. I… I can’t lose you…”

A large lump was in Ford’s throat. He tried to swallow it away, but it didn’t work. He compromised and took advantage of the silence. He cupped Mabel’s right cheek with his left hand and wiped some tears away with his thumb. Mabel covered his hand with hers and turned her face into his palm.

“I understand, my dear. I do. And I’m so sorry. I swear, we won’t stop sailing unless we want to. You have my word. But I also swear to you that Stanley and I won’t let anything happen. We;re too scared of losing each other to let anything happen, believe me.” Mabel moved her eyes to his. “We will always come home. I promise.”

Mabel hugged her uncle again and cried into his shoulder, leaving him to rub her back and pray she would be okay. Ford opened his eyes and caught the sight of his twin at the top of the stairs. He must have heard Mabel’s screams and come to investigate, but decided to stay out of it. But a look from Ford told Stan that Mabel needed him too, so Stan climbed down the stairs, sat behind her, and hugged them both.

#GF #gravity falls #gift #collab #ford and mabel bonding #fanfiction #clownwry #sea grunks #angst #ANGST AND FLUFF

[endlinetheredeath]

First Contact part 2

“...Hello Human.”

I blinked a couple times as the words registered in my brain and as i went to open my mouth to respond nothing came out. This was of course the result of the momentary shock of hearing the English language coming out of the mouth of an alien. I closed my mouth and cleared my throat ...

“Well hello to you too, honestly I didn’t expect to hear English, but it is a welcomed turn of events. Did you learn the language or are you using a translator?”

The alien seemed pleased that i didn’t freak out and started a response to my question but was cut off mid sentence by yelling from inside the house...

“No i...” “Drágám mi volt ez a nagy zaj, és kihez beszélsz?...”(Honey what was that big noise, and who are you talking to?...

The yelling was not in English but in my native language, at first i had a bit of annoyance on my face but that turned quickly into mild amusement as I saw the alien looking rather confused. i turned around on my heals and shouted back to the voice...

“Pillanat...!!”(In a second...!!) and with that i turned back to the alien “Would you like to come in or ...”

The alien was now looking a bit worried as it answered my open ended question...

“I... well I don’t exactly fell safe on this planet ...” It looked around and looked as if it was getting more and more nervous by the minute. “and if you would agree to come on board my ship I and everyone else on board would be very excited...”

I narrowed my eyes but then gave a big smile and said...

“Well i would be honored to enter your ship, it’s not every day you get to go to space much less on an alien ship... just don’t kidnap me ok?”

The alien winched back a bit at my smiling but it seemed pleased i agreed to it’s proposal.

“Alright give a minute or two to put on some proper clothes and I’ll be right with you.” and with that i turned around to head back in.  I quickly discarded my coffee stained white t-shirt and shorts and grabbed my blue jeans, put on a pair of black socks, as well as i put on a fresh white t-shirt and on top on that i pull on my trusty woodcutter flannel, rolled up it’s sleeves and left the shirt open. With that i rushed downstairs picked up my one of my baseball caps the one i grabbed was a camo pattern one and my ol’ faithful hiking boots ... while i put them on i said...

“Hé anya elmegyek egy kicsit majd jövök...nem tom mikor szal ne aggódjatok... ok?”(Hey mom I’m going out for a bit I’ll be back...donno when so don’t worry...ok?)

Then came the response...

“Várj csak egy pillanatot fiatalember, még nem is válaszoltál a kérdéseimre és most hirtelennyében meg el akarsz menni!? Mi folyik itt?”(Wait just one second youngman, you didn’t even answer my questions from earlier and now you just want to leave all of a sudden!? Whats going on?

“Anya 30 vagyok nem egy kisgyerek, abba tudnád hagyni a “fiatalemberezést”? Amúgy is elhinnéd hogy ha azt mondanám, hogy leszállt egy UFO a kertünk mögé és egy űrlénnyel beszélgettem?(Mum I’m 30 not a small child, could you drop the “youngman” already? Anyway would you believe if i said, that a UFO has landed behind our garden and i was speaking with an alien?)

"Nem de akkor is hova mész?”(No but either way where are you going?)

“Az űrbe az űrlénnyel... legalábbis azt hiszem az űrbe... na mindegy majd jövök.”(To space with the alien... at least i think into space... anyway i’ll be back.)

With that i turned and opened the front door and walked out, as i closed the door i could hear my mom say in a dissmisive tone (Kids...). I walked to our back fence and hopped over it to finally meet the alien face to face. 

It was looking kind of surprised as jumped the fence...

“So alright I’m here sorry for making you wait, nice to meet you face to face, my name is Tommy well Thomas Fisher if we translate my name into English...What's yours?” I said as i walk up to it still looking surprised and i reached out my right hand for a handshake. The alien looked down on my hand and instead of taking my offered hand bowed it’s head before answering my question.

“My name is Nakqr’hlirgmkoz but i don’t think you can pronounce it...”

“Yeah.. is it alright if I call you Nak because you are right i cant pronounce your name, and ...” i look at my hand as i pull it back and chuckle a bit “ yeah of course, you don’t know what a handshake is...“

“Yes, Nak is fine, our names are infamous for their difficult pronunciation even among other species in the universe ... shall we?”

The alien motions inwards to the ship and we turn to walk in, and as we do ...

“Can I ask a rather personal question, you don't have to answer if you don't want of course?”

“Yes of course, ask away.”

“Are you a male or female of your species? I ask because I cant decide just by looks...”

”I’m a male, and don’t fret sometimes even we can’t tell the difference.” he said with a cheerful tone to his voice as the door to the ship closed behind us.

He sat in the pilots seat and pushed a few buttons and the engine of the shuttle (‘couse it’s just the two of us and he talked about others as well on board his ship... yeah should have realized it earlier but here we are.) churned to life and without turning his head he said...

“You should probably sit down back there it’s not going to be a smooth ride.”

I did as told and quickly sat my ass down in a seat and tried to buckle myself in tough it took a couple seconds for me to figure out how. By the time i managed to strap myself in we were already in the air and the bright blue of the sky quickly darkened before my eyes until my vision was filled with a vast blackness dotted throughout with white dots of lights.

“Woah...” i heard myself say.

Nak turned his head towards me as i was staring out one of the windows of the shuttle.

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

“Yeah... i mean I’ve seem pictures but this is just wow...”

“We will be docking with my ship in a few minutes”

...

#sci-fi #alien #space #humans are space orcs #humans are weird

[childish-ish]

Yoo! *hands you subway sandwich* I absolutely loved the soulmate AU with Micheal making choices for each other. And I was wondering (if you can/want) what would it be like for Billy Lenz.

hii *fucking devours subway sandwich* thank u so much i love u <3 i would love to write for him! sorry if hes ooc :<

sorry it took so long too, i thought it said lOOMIS AND I LOOK BACK AND IT SAYS LENZ LMFAAAOOOOOOOO then i procrastinated xd its super awkward and weird, im sorry!! i tried- i was on major fucking writers block!!

bro u made me eat a bug dont talk to me

soulmate au.. makin choices fo eachother..

billy lenz x reader

also, just imagine like. a party right before christmas and they dont call the police to help them rather do it themselves, but then 1 girl calls and they're on their way at the end.. ya dig? ALSO I KNOW ITS HIS HOME BUT I DIDNT HAVE AN IDEA SO xd

"Hello?" You answer the phone politely, looking over your notes before closing the book as you wait in silence for a reply on the other line. "Hellooo?" You drag out the 'o' in hello.

"Y/n? Hey, hows'it going. Listen i have this party goin' on and I know you don't have jack-shit to do, so, why don't you come on over?"

Barb! Ah, that bitch.. should i? You thought over the pros and cons as Barb waited impatiently on the other line.

soulmate chooses: go to party.

"Yeah, I'm coming. Streets?" You ask, opening your notebook back up, flipping to a blank page as Barb told you the address. You hang up on the girl and rip the piece of paper off, holding it between your teeth as you lift yourself from your cushioned chair, grabbing your coat that hung on the back and quickly stuffed the address in the pocket of your coat.

eat bug or do not eat bug.

You furrow your eyebrows at the choices. Before choosing 'do not eat the bug'. What the fuck?

Of course you would choose not to eat the fucking bug. You weren't a dick. But your fucking soulmate was. You were totally gonna beat their fucking ass for choosing such choices.

You sigh, grabbing your coat on the way out. Your necessities jingling in your pockets of said coat. You shove your hand in, dragging out your keys, turning around to lock your door. Sighing once more, as you enter your car and start the ignition. You pull out the address. "Can't be too hard, can it?" You mutter, finally pulling out of your driveway.

"Hello!" You wiggle your fingers as a small wave at the unrecognizable woman who opened the door. "Hello." Sge greeted back softly. "Are you a friend of Barbs'?"

"You betcha!"

"Well, I'm Jess! It's a pleasure to meet you.. come on in!" Jess opened the door wider. You see a few other girls chatting lively. A glass or a beer bottle in their hands. You follow Jess.

"Y/n! You made it! Good job." Barb greeted you, immediately handing you a beer you watched her pop open. You grab it, took a gulp, and thanked her.

You spot an ant crawling on the counter by you. Jess and Barb began to argue softly. Background noise.. You debate on whether to wipe it up and eat it. You shake your heads of the thoughts to rid of the possibility of your soulmate choosing-

eat the ant.

You growl under your breath, crushing the ant under your index finger and wiping it off on your tongue. You swallow it with your spit.

Im totally beating my soulmates fucking ass.. you thought angrily, chugging the rest of your piss-tasting beer. Chug, chug, chug! You cheer yourself on.

soulmate chooses: chug.

You chuckle before downing the rest of your cheap beer. Barb hands you another wordlessly. A smirk planted on her lips as she watches you down another.

"You should really slow down, Y/n."

"Eeh come on, Jess." Barb rolled her eyes, tossing an empty bottle into the trashcan. "Her soulmate probably made her chug." Barb defends poorly.

"I suppose.. how about you chug some water?"

"Yeah.. that'd be best. I'm already feeling a fucking buzz!" You laugh, being the lightweight you were.

Soon. You had awoke in a extremely comfortable bed with a small headache.

"It's so quiet.." You mutter to yourself. Dragging your hand over your face before quickly pulling away, realising you already had acne that was beginning to sprout. You stare at the ceiling, glancing at the window. Still night-time. You turn your head to the nightstand. The lamp was on. A small glass of water.

"Awh." You smile at the thought of one of the girls leaving a cup of water for you, quietly closing the door behind them. You immediately sit up and chug the water, tossing in the two pills that lied on a small napkin right next to it. You swallow, lathering the pills up in your spit.

You stretch your arms over your head, before falling back onto the plush mattress layered in bedding. You sigh, before finally deciding that it was time to get up and see what was going on downstairs. If you were even upstairs.. you cant tell. Maybe you were downstairs? You continued your train of thought as you closed the door behind you politely. Not bothering to take the glass with you.

You continue down the stairs, hand sliding down the railing as you slowly step down each step, before noticing the sticky, yet not sticky liquid your hand laid in. "The fuck? Strawberry syrup, L-O-L." You lift it up to your lips, licking. Clearly not thinking as the taste registered.

"Pennies. Blood? Oops." You wipe your fingers off on your shirt, quickly continuing down the stairs. "Baaarrrb?!" You call out, awkwardly. "Oh. Who's the shit-face drunk lying on the floor." You step closer towards the dining area. "Barb? You fucking drunk." You snicker.

soulmate chooses: kick her.

You do so. Not like you had any choice yourself. Kicking her lightly in the stomach, you step away. "What the fuck?!" You shriek, slapping the hand that was placed in your shoulder. You turn around to face a rugged man in a dark sweater and black pants. no shoes? Yet socks on his feet.. "Who are you?!"

The person before you didn't answer before lifting up a single hand thay held a.. glass unicorn? The tip of the horn was covered in a red substance. You could only assume strawberry syrup once more.

"Murderer!" You shriek, grabbing the lamp next to you and chucked it at the offending man who barely dodged it. He screamed back in response before lunging at you; successfully tackling you to the carpet rug.

"I can't believe you, are my soulmate.. well no, i can." You place your index finger on your chin in a thoughtful manner as you stare at the ceiling. "Are you?"

"billy made you eat an ant." he snickers horridly in your ear.

As, Billy, with the biggest cock known to man, squabbled and licked the shell of your ear, muttering about pigs and boobs and pussies, you nod to yourself.

"I can just hand you over to the police, no problem." You hug yourself. "But could I, really? My soulmate. Who has killed people.. Barb. God, you fucking cunt!" You screech, rolling away from him, just to jump back on the wide-eyed motherfucker, wrapping your hands around his neck and your cunt being right over his crotch. Haha.

He gasped for air, short, uneven nails scratch at your hands.

Tables were turned, and you were back on the floor with Billy over you, screaming out profanities.

"I'm sorry, Billy." You apologize falsely. Tears streaming down to your ears, since, you were on the floor.. gravity? "You killed my friend, man. I didn't even know her that long!"

Billy leans over and licks the tears away. You flinch away, before he pulls you into his lap awkwardly, his head dipped down into the crevice of your neck and sniffed loudly before giggling to himself.

"Billy's pretty little pig. Billy's. Pretty pig. Pretty cunt. Pretty, pretty, pretty." He mutters, an odd sense of nostalgia washed over you, catching an odd scent that activated said nostalgia.

"Move bitch. Let me get fucking comfortable." You snap, pulling out of his hold and turning your body around to face him. Crotch to crotch as you wrap your legs above his own.. does this make sense? You wrap your legs around his and he crosses his legs, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you fiddle with his hair.

"Man, you are such a fucking dick. Making me do all those fucking things while i chose nice things for you.." You lay your head on his shoulder. Very much stinky, yes.

"We should dip though. Didn't one of the girls call the police while yo' dumb-fucking-ass was suffocating one?" You pull away, getting a good look at his face.

You wouldn't say he was.. handsome.. but you certainly wouldn't say he was ugly. His skin was.. a sickly pale yellow. His.. fuckimg huge brown eyes stared at you. His cracked lips were curled into a unnerving smile.

soulmate chooses: leave.

"Yeah. Let's go." You stand, offering him a hand.

Billy's blood coated calloused hand makes contact with your own. You gag, covering your lips with your free-hand. "Fucking disgusting." You mutter in disgust, enduring it for the sake of your new partner.

You shove Billy in the back of your car, slamming the door shut and sprinting to the other side, just to slip right before you put your hand on the door.

You swing it open angrily, sitting down and starting the ignition, ignoring Billy's giggles and mutters as he peers out the window like a little kid looking at snow for the first time.

break the window or tap obnoxiously.

You roll your eyes, the hint of a smile plastered onto your lips.

tap obnoxiously.

#slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasherslikebeetroot #billy lenz x y/n #billy lenz x you #billy the moaner x reader #billy the moaner #billy lenz x reader #billy lenz #black christmas 1974

[pedros-mustache]

mr. grinch

summary: javi was never going to be the all-out-for-the-holidays type, was he?

word count: 2.7k

warnings: borderline soft!javi (the heart wants what the heart wants), specifically related to the christmas holiday, a disgusting amount of fluff, x fem!reader

a/n: wrote a post about this concept and decided that wasn’t enough. my forte is angst and pining, not fluff, so forgive me if this is trash.

also: this will be repeated in the future, i’m sure, but if you have at all interacted with/commented on/reblogged/liked any of my previous fics thank! you! i would reply to each and every comment however that would require exposing my main (as this is a side-blog) and that’s not gonna happen. please know that i see and feel your love! xoxo! 

you long for the day after thanksgiving more than thanksgiving itself. 

sure, you enjoy the november holiday; it’s not like you hate it. especially since getting married, since having kids, you find thanksgiving means a little more to you now than it did prior to adulthood.

you enjoy packing the kids up and traveling across town to your mother’s house for thanksgiving breakfast and then packing the kids up again and going to javi’s father’s house for thanksgiving dinner. you enjoy sitting beside your husband, your hand on his thigh, as you watch your children play with their cousins or be passed around by distant aunts and uncles. you enjoy knowing that you’re safe, that javi’s safe, that the babies are safe. you enjoy knowing that you’re loved.

really, thanksgiving is nice, a good reminder of all that you have to be thankful for. but it’s just that: nice.

the day after thanksgiving, though... that’s when the real fun begins.

since childhood, your family has waited to decorate for christmas until the day after thanksgiving, and you’ve brought the tradition to your new household. javi tells you that your excitement for christmas overshadows thanksgiving, and maybe it does, but you really don’t care. not when christmas is ten times more cozy and festive than thanksgiving could ever dream of being. 

this year, you rise early on the appointed day and wake javi with a firm shake to the shoulder. he groans, rolls over to his stomach, and slips his head beneath a pillow.

“too early,” he mutters.

you exit the ensuite bathroom, rubbing your lotioned palms together as you prepare for a long day of unwrapping dusty boxes and fragile decorations. with a grin, you tap javi’s foot beneath the bedcovers. “get up before i sic the kids on you.”

he mumbles something under his breath, but the weight of the pillow muffles his words, so you leave him to his sulking. he’s never been a morning person, not in all the years you’ve known him. in a few minutes he’ll be up; you just have to give him time.

you find your son, tomás, awake and raring to go. six and a half years old and responsible as ever, it is his greatest joy in life to make his father proud. and though javier is a man of few emotional words, there’s a soft spot in his heart for both his children. today marks the first year tomás is old enough and capable enough to help his father with the outdoor decorations, and he’s already halfway dressed, his small feet shoved in tiny boots and his unruly hair snug beneath a baseball cap.

leaning against the doorframe, you watch as tomás struggles to get his arms through the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “you’re up bright and early,” you say, arching an eyebrow.

“wanna”—he bites his lip in concentration—“wanna help daddy today.” he drops his head with a heavy sigh. one elbow in particular remains stuck in the sleeve of his shirt, caught at a ninety degree angle.

you cross the bedroom to kneel in front of him and gently tug on his shirtsleeve. the arm once stuck at an uncomfortable angle flops to his side, and you smooth your hands over his narrow shoulders. “i’m sure you’ll be a big help, tommy. you just have to promise to do as daddy says.”

“yeah, i promise.”

with a squeeze to his arm, you cock your head to the open bedroom door. “go run downstairs and pour yourself some cereal while i get your sister up. daddy will be down soon.”

boots heavy around his ankles, tomás dutifully makes his way to the kitchen, his steps slow as he descends the steep stairs. his shoes clomp on the hardwood, and you hesitate, waiting to hear the cabinet doors open and shut, before moving to wake your daughter. you know by now that, though tomás thinks himself a fully grown boy, his legs often move faster than his brain, and you’ve had one too many tumbles down the staircase to show for it. the last thing you need today is a split forehead or bonked chin. 

like her brother, julieta is awake when you enter her dimly lit nursery. she gives you a gummy smile when you reach down to lift her from the small mattress, and she gurgles happily as you change her diaper and dress her for the day. her arms flap against her sides in joy as you enter your bedroom and place her on your bed. with practiced effort, julieta crawls her way up the bed and presses her tiny fists against javi’s shoulders. 

“come on, javier,” you say, pulling the covers away from your husband’s body. he groans in response, head still tucked beneath his pillow. “tommy’s already downstairs waiting for you.”

with a huff, javi turns to his back, drawing julieta with him, one broad hand splayed across her entire back. “getting up this early the day after thanksgiving is cruel and unusual punishment.”

“no—you’re just dramatic.”

“i think i ate too much pie yesterday.��� he sits up with a frown. “i’m gonna have a beer gut like my uncle before you know it.”

“maybe, but i reckon you’ll still look cute.” you grab his wrist and tug him out of bed. he keeps julieta firm against his chest as he moves. “you know i don’t like to waste time, so please move that cute ass of yours downstairs. it’s past eight-thirty already.”

javi tosses a surprised look over his shoulder as you shove him out of the room, plaid pajama pants and all. “you think i have a cute ass?”

“shut up,” you grumble. 

tomás sits at the kitchen table, bowl of cereal on his plastic placemat. he grins when javi enters the room, and a line of milk dribbles down his chin, which you are quick to wipe away with a stray napkin.

“hi, daddy.” rising to his knees, tomás swivels in his seat and braces his hands on the back of the chair. he watches as javi deposits julieta in her high-chair then sets about making his morning pot of coffee. “we’re gonna put the lights up outside today?”

without turning away from the coffee maker, javi nods. “yeah, champ. but, you know, i was thinking.” his eyes slide to yours as he shuts the coffee maker’s lid and flips the on button. “what if we did something... different this year?”

you still. julieta makes grabby fingers for the half of the banana that still hasn’t been sliced for her, and she kicks her legs against the high-chair. “different?” you narrow your eyes. “different how?”

“oh, i dunno.” javi leans back against the stove and crosses his arms over his chest. he has all the air of nonchalance, but you know this is a calculated attack. if you know anything about your husband, it’s that once he gets an idea in his head, he’ll work his way forwards and backwards to bring it to fruition. “just different.”

“so no lights?”

javi shakes his head in reassurance for both you and your son. “no, tommy, we’ll still have lights. just different lights.” for the crescendo of his argument, javi crosses the kitchen and crouches beside your chair. he squeezes your thigh, his brown eyes soft and pleading. “come on, mi vida, let’s spice it up a little bit. i’ve got it all worked out, so you don’t have to worry about anything.”

you toss your head back on a laugh. “oh, i’m sure i won’t!”

“trust me, baby,” he whispers, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, and, for a moment, focusing more on the patterns of your face than his end goal. 

you feel your resolve soften. how can it not? javi is decidedly undomestic, even with a wife and two kids. oh, he loves you; he adores his children. but it’s been a long time coming to get to this moment—him on his knees with his own holiday decoration plans. you’d be a fool to turn him down.

you shut your eyes and give him a nod. “okay, fine. i trust you.”

javi pops to his feet with a loud clap and equally as loud, “alright!” he points to tomás. “finish your cereal, kid, ‘cause we got work to do.” 

dropping a kiss to the top of your head, he makes for the stairs. his socked feet slide on the linoleum, which causes to tomás to laugh in amusement, but you’re too stunned by javi’s sudden change of mood that you can’t help but feel like you’ve been duped. 

spice up christmas decorations? you can only pray that whatever he has in store won’t get you a stern letter from the homeowner’s association. 

***

before beginning his mysterious outdoor decorating project, javi pulls all the boxes labeled christmas down from the attic. he helps you assemble the artificial tree in the corner of the living room, and he, though with a good measure of grumbling, adjusts and readjusts the garland draping the front door. 

but as soon as you give him the go ahead, he pushes you inside, makes you promise not to peek until he’s finished, and, like schoolboys up to no good, hurries away with tomás.

as the door slams in your face, effectively cutting you out of the fun, you glance at your daughter and roll your eyes. “men,” you say, and she coos in agreement.

it’s easy to get lost in your work for the remainder of the afternoon. there’s tens of ornaments to put on the tree and the little village to set up along the front windowsill. julieta follows as you move throughout the house. she crawls, or scoots on her bum, or rolls behind in her baby walker. she’s primarily a happy baby, and after tomás and his terrible twos, you’re thankful for a reprieve from the incessant crying and surly attitude. 

christmas tune after christmas tune drifts from the record player in the foyer, and you bump along to the music, finding the work of unpacking boxes and artfully arranging decorations is not so much work with a good playlist and a giggly baby on your hip.

after pausing for lunch, you resume with the finishing touches. the house looks cozy, you have to admit. the tree sparkles in its corner, and the quaint ceramic village display on the windowsill reminds you spending the holidays with your grandmother as a child. there’s miniature, stuffed snowmen in the kitchen that tomás made in school and papier-mâché carolers that javi’s aunt crafted in the hall. an advent calendar hangs from the back of the closet door, and a spring of faux mistletoe dangles over the dining room doorway.

you’re proud of your work, but more than that, you’re proud of the life you’ve made alongside your husband. when he’d proposed all those years ago (a dreadfully unromantic proposal of a ring simply slid across the table at a restaurant), he’d promised life with him wouldn’t be easy. he hadn’t been lying. still, you’ve made it this far, and you wouldn’t go back on your vows for the world.

it does surprise you that you haven’t heard a peep out of the boys for most of the day. tomás hasn’t so much as run inside to use the bathroom or grab a drink of water. either javi’s spicy christmas decorations were more labor-intensive than he’d originally planned, or he’d jaunted off to his father’s house to escape the responsibility, taking tomás with him. you can’t decide which possibility you’d prefer.

before you can pick up the phone to call your father-in-law, the garage door opens. javi sticks his head into the hallway, a wide grin on his face when he sees you.

“okay, we’re ready.”

you put a hand on your hip. “are you sure?”

“yeah, i’m sure.” he steps inside long enough to lift julieta from her place in the bouncy walker. he sets her on his shoulders, and she squeals as she grabs fistfuls of his hair. “i thought you trusted me?”

you place the phone on the receiver and grab your jacket. “don’t throw my words back at me, javier.”

he taps your ass when you brush past him into the garage. “you’ll love it,” he says. “but you have to close your eyes.”

“really? just how different are these decorations?”

“oh, it’s like nothin’ you’ve seen before, hermosa. now shut your eyes!” with an exaggerated sigh, you close your eyes. javi squeezes your shoulder, and you start to walk forward into the driveway. “tomás, keep a watch on your mother. make sure she doesn’t peek.”

javi maneuvers you until you feel the driveway beneath your feet give way to soft grass. he places julieta in your arms then squeezes both of your shoulders. you can feel the excitement in his fingers, feel it in the way he practically bounces with anticipation behind you. you have entirely no idea of what to expect, but if putting up christmas decorations has made javi this excited, no matter what the decor is, you’ll let him do it every year.

“ready, tommy?”

“ready!”

javi presses a kiss to the side of your neck, his arm winding around your stomach to pull you back against his chest. he is firm behind you, the solid foundation on which your family stands. “ready, mi vida?” his voice is low, and even after all this time, it still sends a shiver down your spine.

in lieu of answering aloud, you simply nod.

“okay. tomás, in three... two... one.” he squeezes your hip. “open your eyes.”

the air in your chest leaves in a giant whoosh as you take in his decorations.

“oh my god, javier,” is all you can say as you stare in dumb-founded shock.

javier laughs—a real, hearty laugh—as he watches your face. “isn’t it great?!”

it—it being a wooden cutout painted to look like dr. seuss’s the grinch.

it being that cutout pulling down a strand of illuminated colored lights from the gutter. 

it being the most half-hearted christmas decorations you’ve ever seen. 

“where on earth did you get that?”

“eddie from two streets away. i saw it in his yard and knew i had to have one, so he got another from his guy and gave it to me.” he shakes his head as he looks on in pride. “best forty bucks i ever spent. it’s been in the back of my truck for weeks!” 

“you are so lucky that i love you, javier.”

he laughs again, squeezing you tighter against his chest. “hey! i put lights on the bushes for you. that’s gotta count for something?”

dropping your head against his shoulder, you nod. “it does. and the more i look at the grinch, the funnier it is.” you hold up a finger. “but i’m not laughing yet.” 

you glance at your neighbor’s house, at the cookie-cuter lights lining the frame of their two-story, at the mechanical reindeer bobbing their heads up and down. you look back at your... grinch, at his twisted smile and tip-toed stance and the sad string of lights wound from his hand to the gutter. you snort in amusement.

“i’ve got to hand it to you—this is the most javier peña thing you’ve ever done. i’m almost proud.”

“i knew you’d love it.”

turning in his arms, you shake your head. “no, i just love you.” 

javi smiles and lowers his head to kiss you softly. it’s his way of returning the sentiment, and you preen under his affection.

but then you pull away with a frown. “wait a minute.” laying a finger against his chest, you tilt your head toward tomás. “where have you been all day? this set-up couldn’t have taken more than half an hour.”

javi cringes and glances at his son. he rubs a hand across the back of his beck. “yeah, about that...”

tomás appears from his place plugging in the outdoor extension chords. “daddy took me to the shooting range!”

gaping, you sputter to form a coherent sentence. “you what?!”

“tomás,” javi whispers, swiping his palm over his son’s hair. “you weren’t supposed to say anything.” he looks up through his lashes with a wry smile. “we did—yeah, we did go to the range for a bit.”

“oh, javier peña, you are so lucky i love you.”

javi grins, captures your chin between his fingers, and kisses you again. “yeah, i am.”

***

taglist: @insideafictionaluniverse​ @ladytrashbird​ @generaldamneron​

#javier pena x reader #javier peña #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier peña x reader #x fem!reader #pm writes

[im-in-love-with-pizza-bites]

It Takes A Village Chapter 14

Chris Evans x pregnant!daughter!reader

Series master list

Series summary: You find out that you're pregnant. After being kicked out of your mom's house you go to live full time with your Dad who you only saw once every few months. Will he react badly to you being a mom at such a young age?

Chapter Summary: You have some second thoughts before the babies kick for the first time.

Series Warnings: swearing, fighting with a parent, teen pregnancy, speak of abortion.

Chapter Warnings: Teen Pregnancy

You decided to not share the gender of the babies on social media, the press had just calmed down about them and you. Your dad was busy as he usually is the few weeks before he has to go film, not that you were used to it since you lived in texas. You were working, over the month you've been working you were able to save up quite a bit. Not enough to raise the babies, but it was enough for diapers and formula. When you go to LA you'll probably find a job in walking distance to his house there, since you'll still need money the money you have now isn't enough.

"Hi what can I get for you?" You asked standing at the drive-through window. You put in what they said, "that'll be $10.99 at the next window."

The car drove around and you smiled, at the girl who sat in the driver seat. "10.99." You said, she handed you her card, you swiped it before giving it back, "have a nice day!" You said smiling.

----

Your shift ended a little bit ago and you sat out front waiting for your dad to pick you up. You scrolled through Instagram mindlessly as you got sucked into your doubts and worries.

What if you ruin these kids' lives? What if Jake suddenly wants to be in the babies lives would you have to let him? Should you pick his last name just in case he does want to be in their lives? What if your dad changes his mind about helping you? Should you have kept them a secret from the press? Would've been a hard secret to keep though. How will you raise them? You don't know anything about guys.

You snapped from your thoughts at the sound a honking horn. You stood grabbing your bag putting it on your shoulder and hopping in the car. "Hey dad!" You said smiling at him.

"Hey bub." He smiled at you before leaving the McDonald parking lot. "So sweetpea.. I have bad news." He began.

"What?" You looked at him but he kept his eyes on the road.

"I have to go to LA early..."

"How early?" You asked, before you two would be flying to LA the day after your last day of school.

"Next Friday."

"But dad the last day of school isn't till the Friday after that." You said.

"I know bub... So you have two options.." He said.

"Go on.."

"Your first option is to stay with Grandma for the week then fly down on the same flight as you already have but alone, second option is you still stay with her but will get a plane to LA after school." He said.

"Okay.. The second option I guess." You said shrugging.

"Okay! Perfect bub." He gave you a quick smile. He'd always admire how you adapted so easily. Even when you were younger you adapted so easily to their divorce, he couldn't lie that was bittersweet to him. But now you simply took a little to adapt he doesn't know how you do it. If he did know he would know you just avoided of thinking of it. Break up? You didn't think of it. Kicked out? You didn't think of it. It would probably come to bite you in the ass but you weren't gonna change when it was working. "Remember you'll be flying alone so don't talk to any one except the flight attendants."

"Dad I've been flying as an unattended minor for most of my life." You smiled at him as he pulled into the driveway.

"Okay Bubba. Do you have any homework?" He asked as the two of you stepped out of the car.

"Nope, I did it on my break at work."

"Well then," he smirked at you, "Movie night?"

"Yeah! Can I pick? I want to watch mulan!" You said smiling at him.

"Okay, I'll order pizza."

You smiled running in. Dodger came straight to the door sniffing you before sniffing your stomach. It became a normal ritual, anytime you were in his sight when you came back he'd sniff your stomach to what you could imagine check on the babies. "Hey bud." You kelt down petting him.

Chris smiled before going to the kitchen to order pizza. You went upstairs, you got out of your work clothes into a sleeping shirt and some shorts. You looked in the mirror at the bump that can now be seen in your shirt.. You sighed, the thoughts from before coming back. It's scary knowing you have to raise the twins on your own. Sure you had your dad, but when you turn 18 you'll probably be on your own. In the span of a day, you lost everything you knew, texas had been your home most of your life. You planned on living there when you were an adult, you planned in raising your kids there well into your twenties is when you planned on that. But now your 15, pregnant with twins, and definitely not in Boston.

"Y/n! You coming sweet pea?" You heard your dad holler from the living room. You snapped from your thoughts, slipping on some fluffy socks before going downstairs. "There you are bub are you okay?"

"Uh.. Yeah I was just thinking." You said sighing as you put your hands on the baby bump.

"Bubba what?"

"Dad.. What if I can't take care of the babies?" You looked down. He sighed before you guys went to sit on the couch.

"Bubba... Your already doing great. You got a job, your taking on the responsibility of them even though your young.

"I guess so." You shrugged.

"Bub I was also worried I'd fuck my kid's life up. But look at you, I didn't fuck your life up." He said. You let out a giggle.

"Even if you did you could blame mom." You said. He nodded. You stopped giggling as you felt movement in your belly.

"What's wrong sweet-pea?" He asked worriedly.

"They're kicking!" You squealed. He was unable to stop himself when you put a hand on your belly to feel his grandkids kick for the first time, not that you minded.

"That's great! See they are on my side. Now let's watch Mulan!" He said. You nodded, he retracted his hands grabbing the remotes. Your hands stayed on your belly as the movie began. You didn't notice how Chris was smiling at you for most of the movie. When your mom had first told him you were pregnant he was afraid that if you were to keep the baby you wouldn't care for it. Sure he always wanted a large family but he wasn't going to just raise the baby he'd try his best to make you do it, but seeing how your hands didn't leave your belly he was relieved to know you'd be doing your best. It meant he could spoil them more. Like obviously. There was no doubt he'd probably be paying for a majority of their clothes cause when they're babies with no interests he still needs to spoil them.

The babies kicking set something straight in your brain. You could do, your dad was telling you that you could do this, in a way the babies were saying you could do it. That was all that mattered.

A/n: here's a reminder Taglist is open...

Taglist: @toastisgood @coldmuffinpartycloud @thevelvetseries @uniquebeautyqueen

#chris evans x teen!reader #cevans #chris evans #chris evans x daughter!reader #teen pregnancy #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #daughter!reader #teen!reader #i'll be there to help you the whole way #it takes a village

[maybeimamuppet]

day 14 (with twins): decorating

day 14!! getting closer every day, folks!!

the twins are seven months old here!

enjoy!!

—————

“Caddy?” Janis asks while Cady feeds the twins their breakfast.

“Hmm?”

“It’s the fourteenth.”

“Oh. Yay,” Cady says happily. She smiles down at the babies. “You two are already seven whole months old! You’re growing so fast, oh my goodness!”

“They’re so pretty,” Janis says quietly, inching closer and resting her head on Cady’s shoulder. “Like, I know every mom thinks they have the cutest baby in the world, but they’re so beautiful.”

“They look like you,” Cady says quietly. “Especially now that they’ve gotten a little bigger. Their features are easier to piece out.”

“They still have those blue eyes, though,” Janis says happily. “Baby blues.”

“They are beautiful,” Cady agrees. “We made these.”

“You did a substantial amount more than me,” Janis chuckles. “But yeah, we did. We made some perfect little ones.”

Layla apparently decides she’s finished and breaks away, looking up at her moms with a little wiggle and happy sound. Cady picks her up and props her against her shoulder. “Yeah, we’re talking about you, happy girl! Are you ready for your pictures?”

“Aaah!” Layla squeals excitedly. Cady laughs and starts to burp her.

“Who am I kidding, you’re always ready.”

—-

Cady gets the babies dressed while Janis heads downstairs to get the backdrop sorted out.

“Aww, girls!” Janis coos when she turns around to see what Cady has done to them. They’re in soft white onesies that say ‘My First Christmas’ in gold letters. Cady paired it with some adorable thigh-high socks, one red and one green; and small gold bow headbands as a finishing touch. “You look so cute!”

“So does this backdrop,” Cady grins. Janis has laid their usual plushy white blanket out on the ground and made a large number seven out of ornaments (with all hooks and other hazards removed) in the middle of it. “It’s perfect.”

Janis helps get the babies laid out on their respective side while Cady goes to get their name boards so they can tell them apart. She returns to Leo back in Janis’ arms and Layla several inches away from the blanket on her belly.

“They’re getting so wiggly,” Janis chuckles. “Won’t stay put.”

Cady laughs and retrieves Layla, putting her back in her spot. Janis puts Leo back down as well and they both scramble for their phones before they run off again.

Leo giggles happily at her moms and starts chewing on her little feet. Layla is more of an action person and flips herself onto her belly to make her escape again.

“Where you going?” Cady chuckles. “You keep running away. You don’t want to take your pictures? Mommy and I want to see how much you’re growing! Come back here, goofy.”

Layla giggles as Cady flips her back over and positions her properly. Cady snaps some cute pictures rapid fire to try and get as many usable ones as she can. Leo cooperates, content to nibble on her toes and smile for the camera. Layla continues trying to escape, but stays put long enough for Cady to get a few cute pictures.

“There we go! Good job, girls!” Cady says when she’s satisfied with her quantity of pictures. Layla is finally allowed to roll wherever she wants, and Janis picks up a bent Leo who refuses to let go of her foot. “We should really do some more decorating, Jay, we don’t have anything up yet.”

“We definitely should get the tree up, at least,” Janis agrees. “Kinda running out of time there. What do you think, girls, should we have a decoration day?”

“Let’s have breakfast first,” Cady giggles as her twins both give an excited squeal in response to Janis’ question. “But that sounds like fun.”

—-

After an excessive amount of fruit for breakfast, it’s time to decorate. Janis and Cady leave the twins in their playpen for containment and safety while they carry in boxes and bins of decorations from the garage. After about the fourth, both twins are sitting and peering eagerly at them through the net of their pen to see what they’re doing.

Janis goes to sit on the other side and peeks back at their daughters. Layla happily gives her kisses through the mesh and giggles as Janis tries to tickle her. Leo is a bit more serious and eventually starts to cry, thinking she’s stuck and unable to reach her mommy.

“Oh, pumpkin,” Janis chuckles sadly. “It’s okay, come here, baby.”

Leo clings to her in relief when Janis lifts her out of the top of the playpen, sniffling miserably into her shoulder and relishing in the cuddles and comfort. Janis pats her back and hushes her gently.

“You’re okay, shh, my little bee. Come here, let’s find some decorating you can do.” she hums, rooting through one of the boxes. “Oh, yeah, here, let’s go put these stickers on the windows.”

Leo happily takes her offered window clings and pats them onto the glass wherever Janis holds her up to. Several are upside down or sideways, and a few fall down after being stuck on the wrong way, but they get the back door pretty well decorated.

“Good job, pumpkin!” Cady cheers when she returns with the last box and finds Leo’s head nearly brushing the ceiling to get the top of the door covered. “Making me nervous, but good job!”

“I’m not gonna drop our kid,” Janis huffs. “Again. Come here, Lala, your turn. Let’s go do the front.”

Layla babbles happily as Janis picks her up along with another stack of window stickers. She helpfully sticks them into place where she can reach after wiggling to being put down, resulting in a large quantity covering the bottom foot or so of the screen door.

“Good job, Lala!” Janis chuckles. “Little tightly packed, but I like the vision behind it.”

Layla then starts rearranging them, pulling off the ones she’s already stuck up and trying to put them somewhere else. Several of them eventually flutter off, including the most recent one. Layla whines in frustration and sticks it back, but tries to stick it back to another sticker and it simply falls off again.

“Goodness,” Janis hums when Layla gives a frustrated scream at her sticker. “You feeling angry, Bug? Come here. Try putting it here.”

Layla whines again when Janis picks her up, and rather aggressively slams her sticker against the glass. Janis carefully takes a little hand and runs it over the window cling to make sure it’s stuck on before turning Layla around.

“Cranky little ladybug. Good job, though, you got there eventually.”

“What happened?” Cady asks when they make a return.

“We had a little scream at some of our stickers.”

“Ah,” Cady laughs. “Those are frustrating sometimes, huh, Layla?”

“Apparently,” Janis chuckles. “Bottom half of the door is very well decorated.”

“Good,” Cady says. “Can you start unpacking the tree while I put them down?”

“Yep,” Janis nods. “You should stay, though. They can nap down here.”

Cady raises an eyebrow. “You have to be quiet, then.”

“I’m always quiet!”

“Mm, I can think of a few occasions,” Cady hums. Janis knows full well what she’s talking about and gives an indignant scoff. “Okay, fine. Just try to keep the profanity to a minimum.”

Janis gives another indignant huff. “I don’t swear in front of our babies.” Cady raises the eyebrow again. “Much.”

“I’m teasing. But seriously,” Cady hums, kissing her wife on the cheek and carrying the twins to the couch to get them to sleep. Janis grins at her and gets to work undoing the box.

The ‘no swearing’ rule is quickly broken. Cady hadn’t really expected it to last. Janis pulls the base of the tree out of the box and positions it properly. Elvira’s eyes light up and she makes a beeline over to hide beneath it, batting at Janis’ hands as she tries to separate the ‘branches’.

“Every goddamn year,” Janis sighs. “Oops.”

“I told you,” Cady giggles. “At least they’re not talking yet.”

“Thank goodness,” Janis hums. “Ellie, why can’t you wait until we have it all set up before you start claiming your territory? We leave it for you, can’t we at least decorate it first?”

Elvira just bats at her hands again. Janis sighs and grabs the middle section.

“We could just leave it like that,” Cady says quietly as she rocks the little ones to sleep. “Let her have that and put the top up somewhere else.”

“I wish,” Janis chuckles. “They asleep?”

“Just about,” Cady hums, drumming gently on Leo’s bum to try to coax her into a nap. “This one’s fighting me. But Lala’s out cold.”

“How do you do that?” Janis asks. “They fight me forever. You always get them down in, like, fifteen minutes.”

“I have the food,” Cady giggles. “And I know the tricks.”

“There’s tricks?”

“Yep.”

“Care to enlighten m- son of a bitch!”

“Janis,” Cady laughs. Janis looks up at her from under half of their tree, now on its side and on top of her. “Maybe hold off until I can help you.”

“I got it,” Janis grunts, trying to army crawl her way out from beneath the tree. “Why did we buy such a heavy tree?”

“We wanted a big one,” Cady says. “Can you get it?”

Janis continues wiggling and clawing at the carpet to escape, eventually freeing herself and throwing her hands up victoriously. Cady giggles at her as the baby finally drifts off in her hold.

“Yay, you’re free,” she whispers. “And these little squishes are finally asleep.”

Janis stands up and heads over to them, carefully lifting Layla and transferring her to her baby swing, then puts Leo in hers. “There.”

“The best little decorations,” Cady hums, wrapping herself around her wife. “And they’re homemade.”

Janis bursts out laughing and nods, pulling Cady’s arms tighter around her waist and linking their fingers together. “Made with love.”

“So much love,” Cady agrees. “Does this year feel different to you?”

“Kind of,” Janis nods. “It feels like a bigger responsibility, now. But it’s also more fun. I like seeing them experience everything for the first time.”

“I do too,” Cady agrees. “I like seeing the world through their eyes.”

“I think we’ve done good so far.”

“We have. Especially you,” Cady replies, turning Janis around and pressing up for a sweet kiss. “You’re the best mommy. Seeing you with them is the most wonderful gift I’ve ever been given. I love you so much.”

Janis blinks back a few tears and kisses Cady again. “I love you too. It’s been a hell of a year.”

“It has,” Cady nods. “Time for a hell of a Christmas, then.”

—-

Janis turns around after putting the top chunk of the tree in place when she hears a small yawn. She turns around to find Layla mid-adorable stretch.

“Hi, baby,” Janis coos, scooping her out of her swing and holding her close. Layla yawns again and rests against her shoulder as she blearily rubs her little eyes. “Aww, sweet girl.” Layla perks up when she sees the large tree and points to it. “That’s the Christmas tree, what do you think? You wanna help decorate it?”

Layla looks at her curiously. Janis looks back. Cady comes down the hall with some photos she’s printed to put in the twins’ ‘My First Christmas’ ornaments and finds them mid-staring contest.

“What are you two doing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Goofs,” Cady chuckles affectionately. “Tree looks good, lovely.”

“Thanks,” Janis replies, finally looking away from her daughter’s face. “Only fell on me twice.”

“A new record,” Cady laughs. Janis pouts and gently sets Layla on the ground.

“It’s up, shush. Lala, you get to help me with the lights.”

Layla happily takes the offered bundle of LEDs and wags it around with a delighted shriek. Janis chuckles and finds the end to plug it in.

Layla stares at the lights on her lap when they’re lit up, holding them in her little hands and looking at them with wide eyes. Janis chuckles as she grabs one of the bulbs and brings it to her mouth to gnaw on.

“No no, don’t eat the lights,” she says, gently removing them. “Do they all work?” Layla makes another excited noise. “Good! Can you help me get them on?”

Layla looks up at her curiously. Janis looks back again.

“Actually… hm.”

Layla giggles happily as Janis picks her up and starts winding the lights around her little body. She wriggles once she’s been turned into a little firefly, but can’t escape.

“Jay, you’re supposed to decorate the tree, not the baby,” Cady laughs. “She’s cute though.”

“I think we could leave her like this. What do you think, Ladybug, you wanna be the tree instead?” Layla gives a frustrated grunt and tries to wiggle out again. “No? Okay, come here.”

“Wait, I want a picture,” Cady says before she can do anything. Janis stands aside and lets Cady snap a few cute pictures of their little glowing burrito before she picks her back up and unplugs the strand.

Cady watches as Janis walks in a circle around the tree, holding Layla on one shoulder and using her other hand to position the strand of lights in the right place on top of the tree. Using the baby as a spool is not what she had in mind, but is remarkably ingenious.

“Huh,” Cady says. “Clever.”

“Tada,” Janis says, giving Layla a final spin around to free her from the last few lights. “Good job, Lala!”

“My best little decorator,” Cady coos, taking Layla and holding her above her head. “You’re such a good helper!”

Layla giggles and cuddles into her neck when Cady brings her back down. Cady smiles back, kissing her forehead and holding her close. Janis looks over her shoulder and smiles seeing the two of them together. Cady beckons her over, so she goes to join the little impromptu cuddle session.

Leo wakes up in the meantime, stretching and looking around curiously. Janis goes to get her so they can cuddle both twins at the same time.

“Hi, Bumblebee,” Cady coos, kissing Leo’s cheek. “You took a very long nap today, you must’ve been sleepy.”

“Mamamama,” Leo replies with a yawn. Cady beams and holds both twins close.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she chuckles. “My littlest loves. And my big love.”

Janis grins sheepishly and squishes her family in a hug again. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Cady replies quietly, peppering kisses against Janis’ lips. One of the twins gives a cranky whine at being squished, and both begin to wriggle in an attempt to get free. “Oh, shh, you’re fine. Let me love your mommy.”

No dice, another cranky whimper. Cady rolls her eyes lovingly and sets the twins down to play. Janis chuckles and leans in for one more kiss before she goes back to decorating. Cady follows and starts putting the ornaments on. Fragile ones go up high to prevent any baby incidents.

-

“Here, munchkin, put this on the tree,” Cady says, handing Layla a plastic lion ornament and pointing to a branch. Layla helpfully sticks it into the tree. She doesn’t actually hang it from anything, so it just falls off with a thunk. “Yeah, almost! Here, Bee, you try.”

Leo takes the elephant one she’s offered and immediately puts it in her mouth, gnawing on a leg. Cady laughs and lets her get a feel for it before gently pulling it to the tree. Leo carefully puts it on the branch Cady points to and claps for herself.

“Nice job, girls!” Cady laughs. “We’ll make some good decorators out of you yet.”

Janis laughs as Cady fixes the ornaments for the twins while they’re not looking, and finally pulls the angel out of her box. Cady had it made as a surprise for Janis for their first Christmas after they were married. Her dress is made out of little bits of spare fabric from their wedding dresses, and her hands have little lights in them that connect to the ones from the rest of the tree.

“I don’t know if we need her this year,” Janis jokes, holding Leo in her other hand. “Could just stick you up there instead. And we can rotate you and Lala out on shifts.”

“You’re such a dork,” Cady laughs. “How would you even stick them up there?”

“Duct tape,” Janis shrugs, holding Leo as close to the top of the tree as she can get her. “She fits.”

“We’re not sticking our baby on top of the tree,” Cady says, protectively grabbing her daughter and holding her close, even though she knows her wife is joking. “Either of them.”

“Fine,” Janis fake-pouts. “Tree gets a fake angel instead of our real ones.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Janis chuckles. “What do you think, girls? Do you like the angel?”

“Nananana,” Layla babbles, reaching out to taste the angel. Janis gently pulls it away.

“Nice to know you use the same word for angel, snow, banana, nap, and both your grandmothers,” Cady laughs.

“Nananana.” Leo continues.

“You want some ‘nanas? It is past lunch time,” Janis chuckles. “We’ll test the tree first and then feed you little monkeys.”

Cady picks up both babies and stands a good ways away in case of potential disaster. She’s not totally sure what could go wrong, but if anything could, Janis would manage to make it happen somehow.

But, miraculously, all that happens is the tree lighting up in the proper manner and looking even more beautiful than it did a second ago. The twins both shriek excitedly at the new glowy thing they can see.

“I know, right?!” Janis laughs. “We did a good job!”

“Time for a break,” Cady yawns. “I need a nap too.”

“We have time,” Janis hums. “Lunch and a nap.”

“Sounds perfect.”

—-

After doing exactly that, they decide to get a start on some of their outdoor decorations. The twins get bundled in several layers of their warmest clothes and their snowsuits and hats. Janis laughs for a solid ten minutes at the little baby marshmallows she now has on her hands.

Leo is looking curiously at the dancing Santa they usually put on the porch to scare any visitors. It’s cute, but if you’re not expecting the motion it can be startling.

“You like Santa?” Cady chuckles, helpfully scooting it a little closer to the baby so she can get a better look. “He’s gonna bring you so many presents.”

Leo continues looking and eventually reaches out to touch. Cady pops her up on unsteady little legs and coos quietly as her daughter gives the decoration a sweet hug.

Unfortunately, she missed the fact that Janis had already plugged him in. Santa alerts to the motion and lights up, beginning to sing and dance. Leo screams in fright and falls back into Cady’s arms in tears.

“Oh no, baby,” Cady says sadly, trying not to laugh. Leo wiggles into her hold desperately and continues crying into her shoulder. Janis unplugs the Santa and purses her lips.

“First ever traumatic event with Santa in the books,” she jokes weakly. “Poor baby.”

“Shh, snowflake, you’re okay,” Cady hushes, letting Leo cling to her and cry. Janis rubs her back to help comfort her. “It’s okay, we turned Santa off, shh.”

“Eee,” Leo wails, reaching for Janis for comfort. Janis takes over and starts gently rocking her to calm her down.

“Shh, baby girl, I got you,” she murmurs, kissing Leo’s forehead. “I’m sorry, baby, you just wanted to give him a hug, huh? Come here, it’s okay, shh.”

“She’s so upset,” Cady pouts, stroking a careful finger over Leo’s cheek to brush away some tears. “Doesn’t like Santa’s song.”

Janis continues hushing Leo carefully and rocking her around. Leo continues crying and clinging to her in fright. Janis resorts to some desperate measures.

“Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot

Prête-moi ta plume, pour écrire un mot.

Ma chandelle est morte, je n’ai plus de feu.

Ouvre-moi ta porte, pour l’amour de Dieu.

Au clair de la lune, Pierrot répondit

Je n’ai pas de plume, je suis dans mon lit.

Va chez la voisine, je crois qu’elle y est,

Car dans sa cuisine, on bat le briquet.

Au clair de la lune, s’en fut Arlequin

Frapper chez la brune. Elle répond soudain

Qui frappe de la sorte ? Il dit à son tour

Ouvrez votre porte, pour le Dieu d’Amour

Au clair de la lune, on n’y voit qu’un peu

On chercha la plume, on chercha du feu

En cherchant d’la sorte, je n’sais c’qu’on trouva

Mais je sais qu’la porte sur eux se ferma.”

Janis continues crooning her favorite French lullaby to her baby as she gradually calms down; one her father used to sing to her when she was little. Cady grins faintly hearing her wife sing to their baby.

“There we go,” Janis coos when Leo finally calms with a sniffle. “See? Everything’s okay. I got you.”

Janis dries Leo’s little eyes and rests her down by Layla to play. Cady comes up and holds Janis around the waist with a small smile.

“Your voice is so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Janis says, flushing in embarrassment. Cady smiles wider and tenderly strokes a strand of hair behind Janis’ ear.

“I think the rest of the decorations can wait until tomorrow,” she hums softly, pressing up on her tippy toes and nuzzling her nose against Janis’. “I think… we should go make some hot chocolate and snuggle our babies in front of a fire instead.”

That definitely sounds much better than standing on a snow-covered roof in the cold trying to detangle several strands of lights. Janis kisses her wife soundly before nodding in agreement. “A solid plan. Here.”

Cady takes both twins as Janis passes them to her, and holds them close with a slightly frightened squeal as Janis scoops the lot of them up.

“You’ve been lifting more,” she purrs when they’re safely back on the ground inside. Janis nods with a small smirk. “My big strong lady.”

“I have to be able to lift all my loves,” Janis says. “It’s paying off.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“Aaaaah,” Layla helpfully adds, wanting to join the conversation.

“Oh, yes, we love you too.”

—————

here’s the translation for the lullaby janis sings to leo (if it’s a bit off, i’ve used google translate for this. and also i just googled “french lullaby” and this is one that popped up. so, blame google.)

“In the moonlight, my friend Pierrot

Lend me your quill, to write a note.

My candle is dead, I have no more fire.

Open your door to me, for God's sake.

In the moonlight, Pierrot answered

I don't have a feather, I'm in my bed.

Go to the neighbor's house, I think she's there,

Because in his kitchen, we beat the lighter.

In the moonlight, Harlequin was gone

Knock on the brunette. She suddenly responds

Who knocks like that? He said in turn

Open your door, for the God of Love.

In the moonlight, you can only see a little

We looked for the feather, we looked for the fire

Searching this way, I did not know what was found

But I know the door on them closed.”

hope you enjoyed!! see ya tomorrow!

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway #mean girls the musical #mean girls on broadway #cadvent

[achliegh]

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 9:

FMRN

Would You Go With Me

My Stress

Today was the day, Leo was moving to Gryffindor with two sexy hockey players who actually want him. He hasn’t stopped smiling for the last 26 hours. He was currently in the shower while his boys packed a ‘sexy time’ bag in his closet. Casually bopping to the beat of FMRN as he rinsed off his body. Stepping out of the shower he starts drying off. Legs, stomach, chest, face and everything else. Walking to the closet for the connecting door to the bathroom he finds Finn sitting on a suitcase and Logan trying to zip it shut. Shaking his head he walks over to this plane clothes and starts getting dressed, just a simple pair of jeans, t shirt, belt and baseball cap.

The music was still in the background as Logan jumps up and whoops with triumph. Skipping over to Leo he pulls him in for a rather aggressive, excited, kiss with Finn following with his own sweet and gentle one of his own.

“That bag is crazy full, just so you know.” Finn smiles and kisses Logan’s forehead, the shorter of them was still buzzing like he drank six energy drinks. They heard a bell being rung for breakfast and all sprint over each other to get downstairs.

Judy does not play when it comes to breakfast.

After a healthy morning breakfast of shrimp and grits, or cheese grits if you are Leo, everyone started packing up the vehicles. Leo gets car sick a lot of the time in smaller cars so he is driving them to the airport, ‘them’ meaning Clay and Reg… Finn and Logan got kicked out into Thomas and Noelle's car. Logan fought a little about it but Finn knew that Leo still needed his space. So convincing Logan to go with him by offering a bag of salt and vinegar pork rinds, was rather easy.

Finn has noticed how easy to fall Leo is, he just hopes that Leo doesn’t hesitate with them. Logan didn’t make a very good impression the first time they left. Ever since then Leo has been, understandably, cautious around them. It hurts a little but Finn only ever notices after he looks back on a situation. How Leo looks unsure or hesitates to touch them.

He figured them living together might help Leo open up to him. He just wants him to be happy and safe with them.

“Why am I so nervous…? I have been talking about these two for the entire summer. Shouldn’t I be more excited?” Leo opens the gate with an app on his phone before setting it down in the cupholder. Reg and Clay share a look.

Leo has taken to getting drunk to open up about his fears, Reg and Clay have both become therapists for a sad Leo who isn’t thinking right. It usually stems from Logan's words he used to kiss Leo goodbye for the first time.

‘You are just… a guy who we had a fling’

‘You don’t mean anything to us Leo’

‘Stop being a fucking child Leo!’

Those words haunt Leo when he isn’t distracted in some way. It has gotten better ever since their trip to Gryffindor the first time, but they knew it still bothered him.

“Maybe it's because you are living somewhere away from Peanut for so long.” Clay smiles at him when their eyes meet in the rearview mirror.

“I did try and convince Logan to let him come with, but it was a no. I still can’t believe he is afraid of horses.” Leo snorts and visibly relaxes.

“You know you can always stay with me if you ever need anything, right?” Reg looks at him and gives him a soft smile. Leo squeezes his bicep in thanks. They continue the rest of the drive by Clay annoying Regulus until Reg climbs into the backseat to give him a couple of smacks with a bag of sunflower seeds.

A plane ride and a sleepy car ride later, Leo was carrying most of his bag into Finn’s apartment. He set everything down in the second bedroom and looked around. This was the smallest bedroom he has ever been in… But he was hoping he’d be spending most of his time in the master bedroom anyway. Biting his lip at the thought he is jolted out of his thoughts by two idiots trying to squeeze through the room door at the same time.

“I think we are stuck…”

“Non, I can get us out!” Logan pushes the bag that was in between then onto the floor and they both go toppling over. Leo couldn’t help that laugh that flew out of his mouth. He walks over to help them out just to be pulled into the pile on the ground. Right on top of his baseball bag.

“Oh fuck! Bat in my ribs!”

“You brought a bat!?” Logan is looking at him like he's insane but helps him stand after pushing Finn off himself. “How are you going to use that on the ice?”

“Lo… he plays baseball, not hockey.” Logan rolls his eyes and just ‘blah blah blah’s behind Finn’s back. “Why did you bring it though? It’s going to be too cold to play.”

“Gryff has an indoor batting cage, I looked it up before we left. Shouldn’t you know everything here by now?” Leo starts laying the bags out in a line and opening them up to start organizing the room. Clothes are first.

“Lo doesn’t get out much.” He gets a swift smack to the chest with a pair of long socks from said hermit. Rubbing his chest he smiles. “I have no excuse. Where do you want these?” Holding up the third pair of boots he has found while rummaging in Leo’s bags he holds them up.

“By the wall please.”

“So polite. Logan, you could learn something from him.” Logan makes a sound of offense and was going to say something back in return but Leo turns on his speaker and starts playing some country yeehaw shit, it's growing on him and he won’t lie about it.

“I love this song.” Leo grabs Logan by the wrist and pulls him close, one hand on his waist and the other interlocking their fingers. Swaying to the beat he suddenly pulls away to grab Finn's hand and spins him into his chest while singing “If I gave you my hand, would you take it And make me the happiest man in the world? If I told you my heart couldn't beat one more minute without you, Finn. Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea? Let me know if you're really a dream. I love you so, so would you go with me?”

Swinging Finn around as Logan watched in awe Leo is pulling away from Finn and holding his hand out to Logan. Breathing slightly heavy just smiling his bright chipped smile with his wild blue eyes. Logan can’t help but take his hand and let himself be spun so his back is to Leo’s chest as he mumbles those same words into his shoulder. “If I gave you my hand, would you take it? And make me the happiest man in the world? If I told you my heart couldn't beat one more minute without you, Lo. Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea? Let me know if you're really a dream. I love you so, so would you go with me?”

Hours of dancing and actual unpacking later, Logan had to leave to watch the kids while Celeste and Dumo head to their eye appointments. Leo was sprawled out on the sofa, mostly asleep, when he felt a kiss on his temple and heard some mumbling.

“I’m going on a run, I’ll be back. Okay?” Nodding a couple seconds later after the question sunk in, Leo gives him a quick peck on the lips and buries himself back into the couch.

When he wakes up Finn still isn’t back, his own phone is dead, and it's cold. He sets his feet on the ground after sitting up and a shiver runs through his body. Wrapping his arms around himself he walks to his new room and pulls on his thickest socks, that just happen to have a hole that his big toes catches on. He also decides to change into his one pair of sweats, the Lions ones from the hockey game, and the sweatshirt he wore with them. Putting the hood up and pulling it tight so just his face isn't covered, tying a little bow he doesn’t care how he looks, he’s warmish now.

Wandering into the kitchen and plugging his phone into an outlet in the island, he texts the boys asking what they want to eat, turning on the oven would feel nice. While he's waiting for a response he decided to look around. He walks into the living room where he was just napping to look at all the pictures Finn has of his team, family, friends and him and Logan.

Smiling he picks up a picture frame with Finn on some guy's back, Leo thinks his name is Kasey if he remembers properly. They are in a fountain but only Kasey is wet. He sets it down and picks up a picture that is not in a frame but just laying on the table. Odd. It is of Finn and Logan, they look younger and Logan has a blonde streak in his hair. They are smiling wider than Leo has ever seen them smile. Finn has his arm around Logan’s shoulder and Logan has his arm around Finn’s waist.

Their cheeks are pressed together. It’s sweet. Leo turns the picture over and reads what is written on the back.

‘The year I found the one.’

Leo smiles and sets the picture back down, walking over the wall that has pictures literally taped to it. He makes a mental note to buy some frames. He is taking in all the smiles of people he didn’t know, a man looking like Finn and Finn actually headbutting in a picture makes him laugh.

He hears his phone ding with a text notification, he makes his way over and notices the corner of a picture sticking out from under the couch. He pauses in his path and bends down to pick it up. It’s folded, but it’s a picture of Finn and Logan at the bonfire that Leo took them too. Leo unfolds the side of the picture and realises… there is a crease over his own face.

Ouch.

He folds the crease again and sees how it completely cuts him out of the picture. Leo actually has this same picture in the back of his phone case. Suddenly that tiny drop of doubt becomes flooding water filling up his head. Putting the picture down on the counter after he walks back over to the phone.

He opens his messages to the boys needing steak for dinner… maybe… Did they forget? He sighs and feels the doubt flooding from his brain to his heart. Shaky hands start some music to hopefully distract himself from the smell and texture of meat. Clicking his phone off he starts working on dinner.

Finn and Logan walk in the apartment together, laughing and still sweaty from the run that Logan joined Finn half way through. Taking off their shoes and setting Logan’s bag by the door, a heavenly smell fingers their nose holes.

They share a look of confusion for a moment when they realize the smell is actually steak… They thought Leo would have gotten the joke but maybe not. Maybe the ‘lol’ and ‘lmao definitely’ weren’t obvious enough. They make their way to the kitchen and hear the music and the sizzle of a pan.

They turn the corner to see Leo, looking rather sad. His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks slightly green, he is watching a small steak cook in a pan with no emotion in those normally challenging eyes. His hair looks like he has ran his hands through it and gripped it so it is standing wildly on his head. His hood is tied but not on his head. He is slightly shivering from either it being cold or something else.

Finn was the first to approach him. Resting his hand gently on Leo’s as they hold the spatula with a death grip, he takes the tool away and tosses it towards the sink and having no clue where it landed. Logan has taken it upon himself to turn off the stove and move the pan off the heat.

“Leo?”

“Are you using me?” Leo just blurts out what he is thinking and automatically regrets it from the look of hurt on Finn’s face and the look of anger on Logan’s.

“Let's talk about this while we clean these.” Finn holds up Leo’s hand to inspect the tiny knife cuts he accidently got from chopping onions. Being pulled towards the bathroom, Leo is told to sit on the counter. He does. Logan takes the peroxide from Finn and wets a couple of cotton balls with it.

Scrunching his nose as Logan dabs his small nicks he looks up at Finn who is holding two boxes of bandages, one box is Bob the Builder theme and the other is Hello Kitty. Smiling Leo nods towards the Hello Kitty ones.

“What makes you think we are using you?” Leo zones out for a second, thinking about the song that is still playing in the kitchen and how they need to turn the music off. “Leo.” He remembers that he was being asked a question and clears his throat.

“I don’t know, It’s just that you guys were already together before I came into your relationship. I just feel like maybe I’m just here to piss people off or as some… I dunno fetish maybe. I know it hasn’t been super long but I thought that maybe you would have one or two pictures of me. And I saw the folded one where it’s folded over me…” He is avoiding looking at Logan at all costs.

“I can’t speak for Logan,” Finn cups his cheek and makes him look at him. “But I really really like you, and I’m definitely with you, for you.” Smiling at him Leo lets himself be kissed and melts into it. Pulling away they both look towards Logan, who seems to be lost for words.

“I can’t believe you would think of us like that!” Finn gives him a warning look and Logan takes a deep breath. “Sorry, I just- I’m not good at this type of stuff. I’m really bad at expressing my feelings and emotions, usually I show them in other ways.” He takes Leo's hand and plays with his fingers. “I’m sorry I just snapped a second ago, I’m used to Finn speaking for the both of us… but I’m realizing that makes us ‘one’ in this relationship when obviously there are two of us that really want you.” Leo smiled a little and lifted Logan's hand to his lips giving it a few kisses.

“I really like you too, Lo.” he smiles the tiniest smile and turns to look at Finn. “I like you too.”

Logan and Finn lean in to kiss Leo’s cheeks at the same time. Smiling, Leo lets himself receive the affection without worrying if it's real.

He can worry when he is alone.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

[glowingspence]

Extended family

[What if Cat had Spencer's child and Spencer is left to take care of it? At least he has an old friend to help him.]

Paring: Platonic Moreid

Word Count:1878

Ao3

Chapter 3:

“Do you think this is a good idea?” Savannah whispers late at night a few minutes after Derek slipped into bed with her.

“What is?”

“He needs more than our help, he is traumatized.”

“We will get him some, I promise.” Derek turns on his side facing her. “You are okay with this right?”

“More than okay, believe me I know how much he means to you and I know how much you missed him.” Comforting Savannah lets her thump run over his cheek. “And I did too”

“I-”

“Yes go over” She shoots him a knowing smile

“Thank you” Derek kisses her on the lips before getting out of bed again, walking through the corridor towards the room Spencer is staying in, who the moment Derek lays down on the free side opens his eyes and scoops away. "Just me" He pushes Derek away as fast as possible before laying down again. "I am here if you need anything."

They get woken up by the babies cries and Derek takes the kid and walks towards Spencer's bedside for him to take it but Spencer turns around and covers his ears with his hands so Derek leaves the room with him, changing his diapers and making him a bottle while Spencer is curled up on the bed, crying because he knows this is wrong, he knows he should be there for Theo but he can't. He can't move from his spot, he can't stop the tears.

In pain he wraps his arms around his stomach, pulling his legs up and just hopes that this is somehow over soon. That this was a mistake. That someone fixes this. That someone will tell him that he doesn't have a baby. That this was all wrong.

“You aren't my mom” A small voice appears at the bedroom door making Spencer flinch and seeing a boy standing in the doorway. Holding the door handle with one hand. “What are you doing here?” He walks closer to the bed while Spencer buries his face further into the blanket but doesn't take his eyes off him. “Hello?”

“Your mom is in the guest room.”

“Why? Who are you?”

“Spencer” For a moment the kid is quiet but then climbs onto the bed kneeling down beside him.

“You are uncle Spencer right?”

“No”

“I don't know another Spencer.” He states and then goes to pull at the blanket.

“Hank don't” Savannah steps in, grabbing her son under his armpits and carrying him off the bed. “Our guest is still sleeping so we leave him alone.”

“His name is Spencer”

“I know, it's Uncle Spence.” She tells him with a smile.

“He said he isn't uncle Spencer.” Hank tells her.

“If he doesn't want to be called that we need to respect that okay? But he is the man we told you about. Daddy's friend.”

“I know mom. Dad has a picture of him on his phone.”

“And what did I tell you about looking at our phones?”

“Dad lets me sometimes.”

“Alright, go brush your teeth and put socks on the floor is cold and then we can go downstairs together. There is a surprise.”

“Another one?”

“Of course, go on.” She waits for Hank to run out of the room before approaching Spencer. “You okay?”

“Want my baby?”

“You want him up here?”

“Please”

“I am gonna tell Derek okay?” Shyly Spencer nods, burying his nose in his blanket. “Why don't you sit up and lean against the headboard? This way you can hold him? Or we can lay him next to you?”

“We can?”

“Of course”

“I’d rather sit up”

“Whatever you want. You will figure out what is most comfortable and what makes you two feel safe.” She watches Spencer push himself up leaning against the headboard.

“Do you think I will know too?”

“Why wouldn't you?”

“You know- you know because- I don't know.” Nervously he plays with the blanket on his legs. “People say autistic people lack empathy.”

“And others over empathize-”

“Pretty boy?” Derek interrupts him, Theo in his arms as he steps into the room. “Good you are awake, do you feel up to taking him? Believe me there is nothing like baby cuddles in the morning.”

“We just talked about it” Savannah encourages Spencer, not being able to take her eyes off the baby. “Remember when Hank was this adorable? Now he knows the whole list of swear words.”

“And who's fault is that?” Derek questions and walks towards Spencer. “Here take him.”

“Hey you” Spencer whispers as Derek places him in his arms and then goes quiet just looking at him not really sure what to do.

“He ate good, can't say the same about his old man.” Derek jokes, placing a hand on Spencer's shoulder that he quickly shrugs off. “What do you wanna have for breakfast, kid?”

Nervously he pulls Theo closer to himself, watching him reach for him while Savannah gives Morgan a subtle clue to take things slower.

“Mom who is the baby?” Hank interrupts the moment and walks into the room to see better.

“That is uncle Spencer's baby, come here kiddo” The boy runs over to his father letting him pick him up. “This is Theo”

“Hi Theo”

“We are gonna have to be really careful with him okay?”

“Yes because he is a baby” He states and then leans down.

“Ask first, please.” Derek reminds him, being aware of the fact that Spencer has besides the name hardly a connection to Hank.

“Can I come closer please?”

“Yes but be careful.” Spencer whispers and Derek lets his son down who crawls towards Spencer and kneels down next to his legs facing him.

“Can I touch him?” Hesitant Hank leans forward, his hand hovering over Theo’s head. “Spencer?”

“He nodded, sweetheart.” Savannah helps him out. “Spencer doesn't like looking into your eyes, so you gotta pay attention after asking a question. The nod was meant for you.”

“I look people in the eyes.”

“I know, pretty boy. But you don't when you are already overwhelmed. She was just helping.” Derek calms him, knowing that Spencer isn't going to take everything Savannah says as a good thing when in his mind Savannah is probably a huge reason why Derek left the BAU.

“I know.” Spencer snaps causing Hank to flinch back.

“Alright, why don't we leave you alone for a little bit?” Derek suggests. “I am gonna go downstairs and make breakfast with Savannah, you just send Hank down if you need anything okay? He is gonna keep you company, right buddy?”

“Yes” Hank exclaims and leans forward gently moving his hand over the baby's head. “His hair is so soft!”

Spencer looks up at the child hovering over his son as Savannah and Derek leave the room to give them some privacy.

When Henry was born Derek thought the fact that JJ made Spencer his godfather is a nightmare because he thought that children in combination with Spencer's autism won't go along which was something that turned out to be a worry he wouldn't have needed to have because children are a lot more sensitive. Especially when they grow up with it it's just normal to them so Henry has actually always been someone to just click with Spencer.

“He is only eight days old so you have to be careful.”

“I am already four!”

“You were this small ones too. I saw you at the hospital when you were born.” Spencer tells him and gently guides Hank's hand away from Theo’s face.

“Can I hold him too?”

“No”

“Is he heavy?”

“No” Spencer shifts a little bit, concerned about what Hank will do.

“Why can't I hold him?”

“Because it's a lot of responsibility and I said no.” Theo moves in his arms, making a small sound ones.

“When can he talk?”

“We don't know that yet.”

“When can I play with him?”

“Not yet” Anxious tears form in Spencer's eyes. “You need to stop asking so many questions. I don't like that.”

“But Dad says you know everything.” Bored Hank curls up next to Spencer against the headboard, slipping with his short legs under the blanket too. “His hands are so small, look how they look compared to mine.”

“Yours are really huge already” Spencer tells him and lets Hank touch Theo again. He is not very sure what to do with the two kids. “Hank, can you maybe not lean on me?” He questions scared that he has no right to ask that from a child. “I don't like it”

“Why not?”

“It hurts me”

“Why?” The boy asks while moving away from him.

“Because I- I have- I- we have things in our body, that tell our brain informations-and- and some of these things- are different from yours.” He tries breaking it down as fast as possible, he just wants Hank to stop.

“Why?”

“It happens.”

“Can it happen to me too?”

“No”

“Why does Theo not hurt you?”

“He makes me really uncomfortable actually. But it's okay. I have to get used to it.”

“Did Daddy have to get used to me too?”

“Believe me when I say he loved you even before you were born.”

“But you don't love Theo?” The boy questions with a frown on his face.

“I will” Hesitant Hank leans his cheek against Spencer's arm. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you used to me too.”

“Derek just called.” Emily announces and steps back into the conference room. “Spencer and Theo are with him and his family, he is going to take them in until everything is settled.”

There is a relief on the team's face, all of them having seen Spencer at the hospital. Especially Luke and JJ tried to support him there but he has been on autopilot, just trying to keep his baby safe from Cat and what she might have planned.

“Spencer will obviously have some time off.” Emily continues, “but if that changes any time soon I expect everyone to be supportive and not to judge him. Derek is doing what is best for both of them and he told me that he will do everything so the kid gets raised with Spencer in his life, he just doesn't know if it's gonna be like the average single parent household. And he asked me to tell you this because he knows that Spencer takes a lot of reassurance from you guys and the last thing Derek needs right now is someone pressuring Spencer into loving that child because Derek is convinced Spencer does already but will need some time.”

“Is he- is he accepting him?” JJ asks hesitantly.

“Derek told me Spencer was protective over him yesterday but once they got cleared up and showed him that they aren't gonna hurt his child, Spencer started to keep his distance for a while. But it has only been one day home with him and he just needs time.” They all stay quiet for a moment before Emily speaks up again, “The Morgan's are aware that this might not be situational, if it is what Spencer needs, they will raise the kid. Theo won't be left alone, no matter how this ends, he will have a loving family.”

#extended family au #derek morgan #spencer reid #my writing #criminal minds #angst

[imagineaworlds]

I Love You (Part Fifty-Eight) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: SMUT!! Cursing. Dom/sub relationship. Dirty talk. Bondage (belts). Sex toy (vibrator). Edging. Impregnation kink. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, Hotch refers to them as female when saying “good girl”. Drugging(s). 

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 9646

Timeline: A few weeks after part fifty-seven.

Criminal Minds Discord Server

Mine and Hotch’s anniversary was approaching, and even though we had vacation days saved up, we decided that we weren’t going to take time off to celebrate. It was going to be over the weekend, but still. If Strauss wanted to call us in for a case, we were going to show up. But, Rossi didn’t want me and Hotch to worry about it because our anniversary was more important, according to him, so he told us that he wanted us to focus on each other and not work. On Friday afternoon, Rossi showed up at our door, and without warning, he put a ring of keys in Hotch’s hand while saying, “No work. Not a single second of it. I want a figlioccio (godson) before I die or so help me.” When we asked what all of this was about, he dodged by giving us an address and strict orders to stay away until Tuesday morning.

“Dave, what is this?” Hotch questioned, turning the keys over in his hand.

He explained that he still had a place out in New York City that he didn’t use anymore. It was all ours for the weekend so that “Mom and Dad can have a little alone time.” I blushed at his comment. Our strict orders to stay away included a less than “veiled” threat that he would go to the Director himself and have us fired on the spot. I remembered thinking to myself that he was being a little hyperbolic, but I understood his point.

So, when Morgan showed up an hour later—something that was apart of Rossi’s plan all along, it seemed—we packed a few bags, got in the car, and we started driving up to New York City. Morgan had apparently asked if he could babysit Scarlet and Jack with Jessica while we were gone; but Hotch seemed absolutely terrified that we would come home to a burning house, even though I was insisting that it would be fine. I trusted Morgan. I knew that he wouldn’t actually let anything happen to our kids, especially since I got to see up close how good he was with Scar while Hotch was gone in the Middle East. One day, he was going to be a great dad. Besides, Jessica was going to be there, which meant that Hotch really had no reason to worry because we trusted her around our kids all these years, and Morgan was just like another big kid. She could wrangle all three of them, if she needed to.

When we arrived at Rossi’s place, I felt my jaw practically hit the ground. When he said he had a place in New York fucking City, I just assumed it was a small apartment, since that was the extent of what most of the city could afford. But not David Rossi. Not the Italian millionaire who insisted on spending his money on small, stupid, worthless things, like cigars and expensive pancetta. I should have known. If he was going to buy a place out there, he was going to go above and beyond, and he was only going to give me and Hotch the best of the best. That was why he gave us the keys to this place for the weekend. It was a huge floor-through apartment on the top floor of one of the nicest buildings around. Getting up there was a challenge, but it was also fairly simple, in some weird way. There was a doorman, and there was security which we had to check in with since we were unfamiliar faces. However, once we mentioned David Rossi, everyone’s demeanor changed. They all started apologizing for the inconvenience, and they were practically begging us to tell them if we ever needed anything… even though we really wouldn’t need anything at all. We just wanted to get upstairs. So, they all magically left us alone.

Up in the apartment, Hotch and I couldn’t help but laugh at how big and ostentatious it was. This felt absolutely ridiculous Was it necessary? No. However, was it incredibly nice? Yes. It was a relief to be alone again with no work, no friends, no kids, and absolutely no worries. It was just me, him, and an ugly bear rug in the living room.

Hotch let go of the bags he had brought up before turning and sweeping me off my feet. I gasped then giggled. It had caught me so off guard, but now that I was in his arms, I didn’t care about anything else in the world. All I could think about was his eyes. They were staring right into mine, searching for little signs that told him how much I loved him. And that was when I noticed a familiar sparkle in his eyes. It was the sparkle that said he loved me so fucking much that he’d die for me, but also that he would do anything I wanted for me… everything.

I kissed his jawline, just under his earlobe. “I brought the black box,” I whispered seductively.

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

“You don’t want to see the city or get dinner first?”

“No, Sir.”

He set me down on my feet. “Find the bedroom while you’re getting undressed.” He spun me around so that I could lay eyes on the hallway where the bedroom could be. As I took my first step in that direction, I felt him slap my ass, making me giggle, and he chuckled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said, taking off my shirt slowly while walking, then turned to throw it at him.

I picked up my pace. Kicking off my shoes, then sliding out of my socks, I could spot the bedroom in the distance, the door wide open, practically inviting us inside after a long day of driving, and what was sure to be a long night, too. Racing down the hallway, I hopped and shimmied out of my pants, catching myself on one of the walls every time I wobbled and nearly tipped over. I was standing in just my panties and bra now when I entered the bedroom, finding the forest green comforter that I sank into as I jumped onto it.

That was when I heard shuffling outside. I bit my lip, hurrying to reach behind me so that I could unclasp my bra before Hotch could come in and scold me for not obeying his command by getting undressed faster. As my bra fell, I tossed it to the side. Just as I saw his shadow creep towards me, I laid down and lifted my hips up so that I could push my panties down, and then set them to the side for him, if he wanted to use them as a gag, or if he wanted to put them in his pocket, or even if he just wanted to disregard them entirely by throwing them onto the floor.

“Look at you,” he teased lightly, his voice lower than usual. There was his Dom space. I recognized it immediately without even having to look over at him. “So good for me, baby.” I dared to glance at him with a smile creeping onto my face. “Put your hands at your sides for me. Keep your legs together.” I did as I was told. I wasn’t willing to rock the boat just yet, though I knew I would once the opportunity presented itself. “My good, obedient, eager whore.”

I melted at his words. “Yes, Sir,” I croaked, even though I meant to sound confident. I swallowed hard and tried again. “I’m your good, obedient, eager whore.”

He grinned ear to ear. After taking a second to admire me as I was sliding into sub space, Hotch looked around the room for somewhere to set the black box. When he had decided on the desk to my left, he headed there without saying anything. I was so anxious. I wasn’t sure if it was because we were somewhere other than our bedroom at home, or if it was the fact that we had both slid into our respective headspaces so easily, or if it might’ve had to do with the fact that Halloween had only been a couple of weeks ago and I was still entirely obsessed with everything we had done before we were interrupted by the kitchen timer downstairs. Was he going to punish me like he had that day? Was he going to reward me for being so good to him? Would I even get his cock at all? So many questions were swirling through my head, and I wasn’t getting any answers just by watching him dig through the black box.

Hotch approached the bed with two belts in hand. My eyes widened as I watched him expertly loop one of the belts up to make homemade handcuffs. Without even having to demand anything of me, I stuck my hands out in front of me, and he smiled while sliding the belt onto my wrists before tightening it as much as he could. I hissed. His smile didn’t fade in response, though—in fact, it only seemed to grow. As he pushed me onto my back, a wicked smirk replaced his grin. Curiosity and anxiety were coursing through me because I had no idea what was about to come. There was still another belt lying there. But Hotch didn’t go for it yet. He stepped away to grab something else from the black box. When he turned back around, I saw that he was holding a hitachi wand—actually, our only one, though Hotch insisted we should get another just so he could torture me even more, to which I told him no in order to spare myself.

The wand started to buzz after he plugged it into the outlet next to the bed and under the bedside table. I tensed at the sound. This wasn’t going to be good. I almost regretted bringing the entire black box with me in the first place, because now that we were there, I could see in hindsight that it was going to be a very long weekend for me. We had only just gotten to the apartment, and Hotch already had me in sub space. Tuesday felt like a millennium away.

“You don’t cum without permission, slut. Understand?”

I nodded eagerly. “Yes, Sir.”

“You’ll hold it if I tell you to.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl…” he muttered, finally hovering the wand over my left nipple until I could barely feel it. I moaned lightly. “You don’t have to be quiet, baby. We’ve got the whole floor to ourselves.” He leaned over me. “And no one’s going to stop this.” He trailed the wand over to my other nipple, rolling it around until it was hard. I bit back a moan. Hotch grabbed my cheeks roughly in his hand and said, “Don’t hold back. Stop that.” But I didn’t let go of my lip. He squinted at me. “You’re really going to be a brat right now? Of all times? Now?” I didn’t answer him. Hotch growled lightly under his breath, sitting up and pulling the wand away from me entirely. “Fine. I won’t let you cum, then.”

“No—” I immediately tried to apologize, but Hotch stopped me with another glare.

“What did you just say?”

I tried to make myself small, hiding myself as far into the mattress as I could. “Sorry, Sir.”

“It’s too late for that.” He turned off the toy before settling it between my thighs, pressing it up against my bare, soaking wet pussy. I rolled my hips. “Stop moving.” I didn’t stop, though. In response, Hotch slapped my thigh harder than I was anticipating, making me yelp. “I said, stop moving, brat. Don’t make me tell you again.”

With the vibrator sitting between my thighs, he moved my legs so that they were pressed together, keeping the toy there without any work. And then it finally made sense as to why there was another belt. I watched as Hotch took the length of the brown belt in his hands, smoothing it out until he found each end, and he pulled it taught, making me flinch. He smirked. We both knew what he was planning on doing with that, and while the thought was certainly appealing to him, I knew that it wasn’t any good for me.

“Lift your knees,” he ordered.

I bent my knees upward just enough so that he could slide the belt under my thighs, and then he pushed my legs down roughly in order to tie the belt around my legs, completely prohibiting me from spreading my legs. The worst part was, Hotch had tied it just over the wand, which meant that no matter how much I squirmed, no matter what I did in an attempt to make it stop, the wand wasn’t going to budge away from my clit. It was going to stay there until Hotch was through with watching me suffer.

As I suspected, Hotch turned on the toy, making me jolt in response to the sudden overwhelming stimulation that was coursing through me. The worst part was… it was on the highest setting. He wasn’t starting out easy, and he wasn’t giving me a chance to relax or get into it. He knew what I wanted. He knew why we were there. He knew what would destroy me. He wasn’t going to take it easy on me.

“So sensitive,” he whispered to himself, dragging his fingertips up and down my thigh as slowly and lightly as he could.

I gasped as the toy hit a sensitive spot. Without thinking, I rolled around and cursed, “Fuck, Aaron.”

He grabbed my hip, making me settle on my back again. “Manners.”

But that wasn’t the point of having the entire weekend to ourselves, now was it? No. The point was that it was just us, without kids or work for once, and I could do whatever I wanted as long as it got him riled up enough to keep us both in bed until Tuesday. There was one thing that would work. Since getting married and having kids, it was really hard for me to maintain my brattiness because any moment we did get alone had to be fairly quick, because who knew when Scarlet would start fussing up again, or if Jack would need something, or if the office would call with a new case? If we wanted any adult time together, it had to be fairly fast and simple. But now there were three days and four nights ahead of us where I could finally be a tease again, just like old times. Like on the plane to St. Louis… How I missed those days. The tiniest thing I’d do would trigger Hotch, setting him into Dom space, giving him any and every excuse to punish me. I almost wished we could go back in time. Not that I would give Scarlet up for anything… but… those early months of dating were so simple and free. For just this weekend, we could afford to be like that again.

So, I did what any good brat would do. I looked him dead in the eye, and I said, “Make me.”

Hotch’s entire demeanor changed. He was already angry with how quickly I went from being his “good, obedient, eager whore” to the brat that was willing to challenge him on every little thing, just because I could. This anger was different. The look that washed over him reminded me of the good old days. We had just started dating, and I told him all about the black box and what it meant to be a Dom, and he just… There was this look of hunger he had when I got bratty. He used to jump me any chance he got—not that he didn’t anymore; it was just different now. But I saw it just then. I saw it as the words left my mouth, and I was immediately filled with regret.

He shook his head while walking to the black box again. “’Make me’,” he muttered, chortling. “’Make me’. Huh. Sure. Yeah…” He grabbed something from the box. “I thought I wanted to hear you scream for me,” he turned with a ball gag in hand, “but now that I know exactly what I’m going to do with you, I don’t think I want to hear your pathetic cries for me to stop or slow down…” He kneeled on the bed, forcing my jaw open with a rough grip on my cheeks. He shoved the gag into my mouth and quickly fixed together the buckle under my hair. “’Make me.’ You don’t get manners at all now. No, ‘Please, Sir’,” he mimicked my pathetic, pleading voice whenever he was edging me, “and no ‘Stop, Sir’, or ‘Sir, I can’t take it anymore!’ because you’ll take whatever I give to you.” He pressed the vibrator against me as hard as he could, tightening the belt around my thighs to make sure it would stay like that. “And no fucking cumming.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I kept squirming my fingers stretching for the toy that was torturing me. It was brutal. The highest setting was stimulating me to the point that my legs were all ready shaking, and I was a whimpering mess behind the gag. I was going to get close soon. I kept stretching my fingers for the wand, trying to pull it away just to catch a break because I didn’t want him to edge or ruin me. Some part of me wanted this to all be on my terms so that I could just find relief by climaxing, but Hotch wasn’t going to give me that satisfaction.

Hotch intertwined his fingers with mine to stop me from reaching. I squeezed his hands. My hips bucked, my head thrown back into the mattress, and I let out a scream. All he did was snicker. I was so close already—Fuck, fuck, fuck!

He turned it off just as I got to the edge. I thrashed around more violently this time, pissed that the stimulation was gone just when I needed it most, but Hotch and I kept holding hands, refusing to let go. He chuckled and brushed my hair out of my face.

“Is it bad that I want to see you cry?” he asked me.

I whimpered. “Sir—”

He turned the toy back on. “I think we’ll keep edging until you cry. Maybe then you’ll have learned that your place is to use honorifics, and that’s it.”

“Sir—”

“Shhh…”

I wiggled my hips to make the toy flick across my clit, which only made the stimulation 10x better, which was taking to the brink faster. “Sir, Sir, Sir, Sir—” I screamed again when he turned it off.

“You have to go slower, baby girl. The faster you edge, the worse it’ll be.”

“I hate you,” I mumbled behind the gag, drool running down my chin.

“No, you don’t.” He turned it back on, but this time on a speed that was much slower, making it harder and longer for me to edge. “God, you look so pretty.” He leaned down to take my nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, making me moan pleasantly instead of screaming like I had been. I melted into the bed. “So, so pretty for me…” He kissed the other one. And then his phone started ringing, startling the both of us. He groaned and sat up to turn it off, but he froze when he spotted the same. “It’s Sean,” he told me with a confused yet worried tone. “Stay here.”

I whimpered and tugged at the restraints as he started walking out of the room. He answered the call and closed the door behind him. I moaned out as the vibrations hit a sore spot on my clit. Now that he was gone, he wasn’t there to stop me from wriggling around, so I started twisting and turning while trying to find a way to release myself or get the vibrator to move off my clit just to give me a break. But there was no way out. The son of a bitch tied it to my thighs so hard that moving only made it worse. I whimpered around the ball gag again as my orgasm started to build again. At least he wasn’t there to take it away now. He would never know. If I just raced towards my climax, I could finish before he’d come back… Yeah. That was a good idea…

The door burst open just as I thought I could get away with it. I shook my head and cried, knowing that he was going to take it away as soon as possible, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. “I am so sorry, baby,” he apologized sincerely. I looked at him with wide, curious eyes. He wasn’t apologizing in a teasing way. Hell, he wasn’t even in Dom space anymore. Something happened with Sean on the phone. “I have to go.” He stretched over the bed to turn off the vibrator. I moaned as I edged, throwing my head against the mattress. “I’m sorry…” He started unclasping the belt around my hips so that he could pull the toy away. “Sean’s in trouble.”

“Gag,” I tried telling him, though it was muffled and hardly coherent. Hotch somehow understood, because the second the rope was loose enough for me to wiggle out on my own, Hotch reached behind my head to unbuckle the ball gag.

“Don’t talk yet,” he warned worriedly, grabbing onto my jaw to hold it open so that I wouldn’t hurt myself. When the gag was out, Hotch set it on the bed. “Just relax.” He slowly helped my jaw close. “I’m going to make this up to you, I swear—”

I shook my head and sat up. “What’s wrong with Sean?”

Hotch sighed and shifted on the bed so that he could uncuff my hands. “I’m not entirely sure. I just need to meet with him and take care of it—”

“I’ll go with you.”

He shook his head. “No. He’s my burden, and I— I feel bad for leaving you like this—”

“Hotch, this doesn’t matter while Sean’s in trouble. You’ll make it up to me later, just like you said. Your messes are my messes. Remember?”

Hotch threw the belts next to the ball gag. “I’m so sorry.”

I smiled lightly at him. “If it makes you feel any better, you’ve edged me worse before.”

He chuckled and pressed his forehead against mine, his eyes falling shut. “I will make this up to you.”

I kissed him quickly. “I’ll clean up and then we’ll go.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” I kissed him again, then wiggled off the bed, hurrying to the bathroom. “Sean Hotchner…” I sighed to myself. If he weren’t my brother-in-law, I would have killed him myself. Acting like this was alright in front of Aaron was easy, but the truth was that I was frustrated… in more than one way.

----

The Edinburg was where we were meeting us with Sean. As we pulled up to the club, we saw the cops, medics, and witnesses all standing around in the cold, trying to wrap up the scene. Sean spotted us right as we got out of the car. We approached the barricade around the club, flashing our credentials to the cops that were trying to keep us out, and they let us pass through without any problems.

“Thank you, guys, so much for coming,” Sean said, dropping his cigarette on the ground and putting it out by grinding the toe of his shoe against it.

“I didn’t think you were allowed to smoke in public in New York,” Hotch said coldly to his brother.

He slowly started sliding his arm around the small of my back, pulling me close. He hadn’t finished dropping yet, I could tell, and he probably wouldn’t for a bit because his mind was still racing with what we had been doing—and I knew that because I was still thinking about it, too. We were supposed to be there for Sean. He called us, asking for help, and that was what we were supposed to be there for, but the endorphins were still coursing through us which was why we hadn’t settled down to completely focus on Sean yet. We just had to give it a few more minutes.

“You’re not even going to warm up to the big brother act?”

“I figured that it would save us time. You called during our anniversary.”

“So, that’s why you guys are up here.”

“Yeah. Care to tell us what we’re doing here now?”

“The girl I told you about, the one who died, her name was Anna. The cops think that she OD’d, but I’m not… I’m not so sure. She was bleeding everywhere, Aaron. I mean, out of her eyes, her nose, her ears. You don’t do that when you’re overdosing.”

“And you would know?”

“Aaron!” I hissed.

That was rude. I knew that Hotch was done with Sean, he had said that much since Haley’s death, and even when Sean showed up to our wedding, they didn’t talk, but he had no right to say that. Sean was his own person. If he was struggling and needed help, we should’ve been a safe space for him to turn to. But if Hotch kept this ‘tude up, Sean wouldn’t have anyone.

Sean shook off the comment to continue telling us what happened. “My manager wouldn’t let me call 911 until I got her outside so that the club wouldn’t be liable; but by then, she was already dead.”

“Is this the first time this has happened here?” I asked.

“No… My girlfriend, Linda Heying, she died last week the same exact way.”

“She didn’t abuse or anything?” Hotch questioned.

“No. She drank, but after—” He stopped himself so that he could tread lightly. “After something that happened a few months ago, the two of us got clean, and we stopped using.”

“Using what?”

“Not the point, Hotch,” I whispered. I looked at Sean again. “Do you know of a third one?” Without a third case, it wasn’t federal, which meant that we couldn’t take it. But Sean nodded, which meant that the case was ours now if we wanted it. I sighed and looked at Hotch. “Rossi’s going to kill us.”

----

While the team was on the plane, Garcia called to let us know that there was a similar situation in another club just after the victim at The Edinburg. Six people died of apparent drug overdoses, but they had been bleeding the same way Anna and Linda had. So, this had turned serial in less than a night. Whatever had been tampered with—drugs or alcohol, probably the latter considering that Sean was adamant that Linda didn’t do drugs at the time of her death—had made its way into both clubs on the same night. The likelihood that it could be found elsewhere was rising. If we didn’t act fast, this was going to get out of control.

The team was discussing the case and the profile on the jet without us, though. Hotch and I were holed up in the Field Office that we hadn’t stepped foot into since the bombing five years ago. It honestly felt as if no time had passed at all. We had shown up at the office, and everyone was taken aback by how much Kate looked like Haley, and everyone was convinced that her and Hotch had a history—and I was sure of it, too, because they didn’t act like friends all. Kate was always hanging around Hotch, hugging him every chance she got, talking privately and intimately with him, only valuing his opinion. Hotch told me that I was crazy, though. He convinced me into thinking that him and Kate had never done anything, and I believed him, and it never even crossed my mind again until he finally fessed up a couple of months back when I asked him to lay out all of the lies. They did have a history together, but it meant nothing to him. They were just friends in his mind. During that very case, he lost his friend. He lost someone who meant a great deal to him, someone who reminded him of Haley, and at the time, we thought about how hard it would have been to see Haley bleeding out like Kate had, thinking that it would never happen. We were so naïve back then.

I held onto Hotch’s hand when he started fidgeting and bouncing his knee. It was hard for him to be back and to not see Kate, to know that both her and Haley were now gone, and that I was all he had left. He brought my knuckles to his lips and placed a ginger kiss against them as a silent thank you for sitting silently with him.

“We should talk to Sean since he knows the most about the other victims.” He pushed himself to his feet before he could continue overthinking, and he immediately walked towards the interrogation room where Sean was sitting.

“Hotch—”

He closed the door on me, though, so the only way I could spy on them was by heading into the mirror room. Hotch sat down across from his brother. “Six kids bled out last night, just like the others. How well do you know these people that you’re working with, Sean? I mean, they wanted to avoid a liability by dragging a victim out of the building before deciding to help.”

“Listen, Thane hooked me up with the job a couple of months ago. What comes with that is bartending, cleaning, and looking the other way when something’s going down. Linda and I started dating a few weeks after that.”

“By looking the other way, did you suspect that any of the employees were dealing?”

“No. Just buying.”

“What was it that you were addicted to?”

“Aaron—”

“You need to be honest with me right now, Sean, if I’m going to help you.”

Sean sighed and sat back in his chair, wiping his face clean with his palms. After collecting himself, he dared to look back at Hotch. “Cocaine.”

“And you’ve stopped.”

“Yes?”

“And you’re not involved in anything illegal?”

Sean’s posture changed to something stronger, more adamant, but his eyes kept shifting as he answered, “Yes, but I’m not!” He was lying. Through and through, no doubt about it, he was lying.

Hotch noticed it, too, because he left the interrogation room without another word. When he opened the door, I saw Strauss and Rossi coming in just behind him. They must’ve had a long drive from the jet.

Rossi crossed his arms over his chest. “We just got off the phone with Reid, Morgan, and JJ on our way here. Apparently, they found out that the drugs are made up of PMMA, which is a highly lethal drug with delayed results, so Reid thinks that all of the victims weren’t getting high, which was why they kept taking more and more until they overdosed.”

“This is the first time we’ve found evidence of PMMA in the United States,” Strauss said, “and the Director wants it gone. Did your brother tell you anything?” Strauss asked Hotch. He shook his head. “Well, he has to know something, right? Agent Greenaway said he was lying.”

“About something else—”

“He could be hiding things from us. He might not talk to you because you’re family, so, Dave, I want you to give it a shot.”

Rossi shrugged and immediately reached for the door, seeing no problem with going in. Sean didn’t know Rossi. Whenever he had actually been around to meet the BAU, it was while Gideon was around—and the wedding didn’t count because Sean spent all of his time at the open bar. Rossi was a stranger. Sean probably knew how to get away with lying—or at least thought he did—but with Rossi, he would be thrown off his game, which would potentially give us an edge.

So, we watched from behind the mirror.

“Where’s Aaron?” Sean asked as Rossi sat down across from him.

“In cases where family’s involved, we like to have an unbiased agent perform an interview for another perspective.”

“Am I a suspect?”

That was an interesting question to ask. I mean, if he were innocent, he wouldn’t have asked a question at all, he would have waited for Rossi to proceed so that he could just answer all of the questions as honestly as possible. Asking a question made him seem guilty. The way he shifted in his seat uncomfortably, too, was a red flag.

“Should you be?” Rossi asked, squinting suspiciously. Sean rolled his eyes. “How well did you know the second victim, Linda?”

“We used to date.”

“’Used to’?”

“Yes. Before she died.”

“You know, that’s funny,” Rossi sat back, “because most people would say, ‘We were dating when she died’. But you referred to your relationship as though it had been a past tense situation before her death. Am I right?”

Sean nodded. “Yeah. We broke up after we had a fight.”

“Over?”

Strauss turned to look at Hotch, distracting us from the interrogation. As she asked, “Aaron, do you think you’ll still be able to work this case? I need to know,” Rossi asked another question about the argument when Sean didn’t respond at first. What Sean answered with caught Hotch off guard.

“My using… I stopped, though, because of her.”

“When was that?”

“Two months ago.”

“Any relapses?’

Hotch stormed out of the room. I tried chasing after him, but the door slammed on my face slowing me down. I could hear Hotch yelling at Sean from the hallway. “You’d rather not say?! I asked you about this earlier and you said it didn’t matter! People are dying, Sean!” I stumbled into the room, running into Hotch’s back. His stance didn’t waver. “What was it? Heroin? PCP?”

“Jesus, Aaron, who do you think I am?!” Sean exclaimed.

“Clearly, I don’t know!”

“Hotch,” I whispered, grabbing a hold of his bicep, trying to pull him out of the room with me. “Hotch, stop,” I pleaded. “Aaron!” I finally pulled him out of the room and slammed the door behind us again. “Stop this right now! Stop!”

“He’s been lying to us—”

“Which seems to be a running theme in your family.”

Hotch stopped in his tracks. “Y/N—”

“You’re staying out of this until we’re done dealing with Sean—”

“—Y/N—”

“You’re done! Go wait in the boardroom.” I pushed him away, making him stumble towards the room where the team was just walking into. He opened his mouth to say something else. “Go!” I sighed as Hotch officially turned around, his head lowered in shame, and he wandered off. “Sean Hotchner… You motherfucker…” I opened the door again and stepped in. I sat beside Rossi. “Sean, listen to me.” He stared at me. “You need to tell me and Rossi the truth right now before we let Hotch come in and actually deal with you the way he wants. If it were up to him, he would have cut you off years ago and blocked your number. If he comes back into this room, I guarantee you he’s finally going to do it. So, we need the truth. Right now.”

“It was ecstasy!” Sean yelled over me. It was like he was trying to prove something, though I wasn’t sure what. “I got it from Thane.”

“Your boss? The same guy who told you not to call the cops until the dead woman was outside of his bar. You didn’t think to mention that earlier? That’s a lead—”

“Thane may be a dumbass, but he doesn’t kill people.”

“Does it not occur to you that if Thane is the one with access to the drug supply, he might also have access to the person who is doing this, then?”

Sean froze. The entire room was silent as it dawned on him that Linda’s murderer had been under his nose the entire time. “I… I didn’t… How could I…” He fell silent again.

There was a knock on the window to our right, making Rossi and I look over. It was Hotch. I rolled my eyes, thinking that he was asking to come back in, probably after convincing himself that he could be calm about it, which we all knew he couldn’t. But then he held up a case file. There had been another incident. Rossi and I excused ourselves from the conversation with Sean and headed out to the hall, waiting until the door fell shut behind us to ask what happened.

A family was found dead in their house by their daughter who was returning from school. They were on the floor, bleeding from every crevice imaginable, but they were already gone by the time paramedics got there. The thing was, they were a nuclear family in an upper-class neighborhood. They weren’t high risk at all. Why would they take ecstasy in the middle of the day?

“That’s why I’m sending you, Morgan, and Reid,” Hotch said. “The rest of us are going to stay here and keep looking into PMMA and where it’s coming from.”

So, that was how Reid, Morgan, and I ended up in a living room covered in blood and puke, a crying girl sitting in an ambulance outside, covered by a shitty trauma blanket. There wasn’t a single hint of ecstasy anywhere. Morgan and I searched the house while Reid tried profiling the parents, and the family as a whole. According to him they were a happy family. It didn’t seem like they had any problems beyond mild marital issues, which he discovered when he found the bill for couple’s counseling hidden underneath the mother’s journal in her bedside table.

“Nothing here suggests that these two would ever try any drugs, even marijuana,” Morgan said. We were standing in the kitchen now, looking around. “So, why would they suddenly use ecstasy and know how to properly dispose of it before anyone could find it?”

“Maybe they didn’t do X,” I said, shrugging.

“They had been drinking…” Spencer muttered to himself, grabbing a napkin to pick up a wine bottle that was sitting on the counter. I opened the dishwasher to see two wine glasses in there. He was right. “They probably just got home from work, decided to unwind before their daughter would come home.” Spencer carefully set down the bottle, then raced to go find Gina for a drug testing vial. When he returned, he used the dropper to suck up a bit of the wine, then squeezed it into the vial. It immediately turned blue, letting us know that it had been dosed with PMMA. Spencer stood up straight. “The Unsub wants to increase his body count. He doesn’t care who he hurts. There’s probably dozens to hundreds of spiked bottles still out there.”

“Should we put out a warning?” I asked.

“And create mass hysteria?” Morgan scoffed. “We have no concrete proof that there’s more of these bottles out there. We should start by tracking this bottle, then go from there.”

I nodded an agreement. “I’ll call Hotch to let the team know that we’re looking into wine now.” I grabbed my phone and stepped away while dialing him. He answered with his name. “Hey, we’re just finishing up here,” I told him. “Their wine had been spiked, so you guys might want to start looking into where they got the bottle and whatnot.” Hotch hummed and agreement. He didn’t really sound like he was listening. “Baby?”

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll tell the team.”

“Your brain’s scattered, I can tell. Talk to me.”

“I’m still worried that Sean knows more than he’s letting on.”

“You just need to give him a break for now, I think. He might loosen up.”

“That’s not the problem. He’s already tense, but it’s because he’s worried about protecting himself from the law and the big brother act.”

“Just take it easy on him, my love. Please.”

“I told you I was done with him after Haley’s death. Why—”

“Because he’s family.”

He sighed heavily. “I know. Listen, I’ve gotta call you back. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Bye.”

Just as he hung up, I whispered, “Bye.”

“Is he okay?” Morgan asked from behind me, scaring the absolute shit out of me, making me physically jump with shock. He chuckled. “Sorry.” I caught my breath and turned to face him. “Seriously… Do you think he’s okay?”

I shrugged. “I think he will be. I think that right now he’s just sick and tired of cleaning up Sean’s messes, but without Sean, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe the two of you shouldn’t be here. Maybe that’s why Hotch is annoyed.”

“You think he’s mad because I’ve been pushing him to work the case when we were supposed to take the weekend off?”

“I think that he’s mad that he loves his brother enough to give up a weekend alone with you just to get dragged back into all of this when you were supposed to be focusing on each other.”

“When did Derek Morgan get all wise about relationships?”

“I’ve always been wise about relationships. You just always forget it.”

Hotch was already calling back, so I abandoned the personal conversation with Morgan to answer what was hopefully going to be a work call. Thankfully, it was. Hotch called again to let us know that Sean wanted to go back to the club to talk to Thane while wired up, potentially giving us information on the Unsub, or at least enough to take down Thane and everyone else responsible for what happened to the victims at The Edinburg.

“Are you sure about this?” I inquired.

“I already tried arguing with him, but he’s stubborn.”

“Sounds like that runs in the family, too.”

“Ha. Ha,” he laughed sarcastically. “Can the three of you meet us at The Edinburg? We’ll have an undercover van to wait in.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too.”

----

When we jumped into the van, Hotch was listening to the live audio feed coming from Sean’s wire under his shirt, but he stopped somewhat to catch us up on everything. Sean had mentioned that he was talking to the cops. Because Thane was on edge, he demanded to know everything that happened at the precinct and how much the cops knew. Sean played it smart. He said exactly what Thane wanted to hear, and it gained his trust and got the heat off his back. Hotch was actually impressed.

Morgan handed me a vest to put on. As I did so, Hotch continued to explain that Sean was bringing up the spiked wine right now to see if he could get a reaction out of Thane, now we were just playing the waiting game. If Thane said anything incriminating, we were going to move in. If Sean was in danger in any way, we were going to move in.

“Maybe you should dump that wine, just to be safe,” someone in the background said. We all stopped to listen.

“Right,” Thane agreed. “Sean, I need your help with something.” It suddenly sounded like they were on the move. “I need you to dump these.” He was getting Sean involved with a crime to make sure he wouldn’t tell the cops anything, which was smart on his behalf.

“You don’t want me to dump the whole case?”

“No, just those two for now.” Thane sounded really freaked out and on edge.

“Something wrong?”

“Yeah… I, uh… I could’ve sworn there was another case of that stuff.”

Sean hesitated for a second. “I don’t think so.” He sounded nervous now, too. “Nothing’s gone missing since I last did inventory. Everything’s here. Besides, if it really is gone, it’s probably for the best. Just means it’s one less thing to dump.”

“It’s not here… No, no, no, no, no. It’s not here!” Thane smashed something on the ground out of anger. “Fuck!”

“What did you do, Thane?”

“I spiked the wine, you idiot. Three other bottles were in that case.”

“Why the hell would you do that?”

“I thought it was just X! I thought it was going to loosen the girls up!”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t X, Thane!” Sean yelled angrily. “Linda’s dead because of you. Where did you get it? You son of a bitch! She was sober and you drugged her!” The sound of punches being thrown echoed through the speaker, making all of us jump into action.

Just as Hotch made the call over the comms to move in, SWAT raced in to arrest the employees that had been sitting around with Thane beforehand, but Hotch and I rushed straight to the back room to help Sean. Thank had a box cutter out, lunging at Sean. I stopped him by kicking the back of his knee forward, making him fall to the ground. Without hesitation, I knelt down, grabbing my handcuffs from the back of my waistband, and I started arresting Thane.

“You okay?” Hotch asked his brother.

Sean, still upset about the whole situation, silently pushed past his brother and headed outside. I pulled Thane to his feet. Hotch and I glanced at each other for a moment, but I silently shook my head, letting him know that he shouldn’t go chasing after Sean unless he wanted to make things worse, which I knew he didn’t. So, I took Thane outside while Hotch stood still.

As Morgan and I loaded Thane and the other employees into the SWAT van that would take them into custody, Hotch came running out, fear and panic washed across his face. I raised a brow at him. He was running back and forth on the sidewalk, looking high and low. Did we miss something? Was there another bottle somewhere? Someone hiding?

“Hotch, what’s wrong?” I asked him, closing the doors of the SWAT van. Morgan patted it, letting them know they were free to go. “Hotch, what is it?”

Hotch didn’t say anything. He only turned his phone around to show me the screen and the text message from Sean that said: “I’m sorry.” Sean ran for some reason, and Hotch was left worried about his little brother again. Fucking Sean. He did this every time, and there were only so many times that I could keep defending him and continue convincing Hotch to stay in contact with him. He was making my job really fucking difficult.

“Sir, we found the club owner, Jim Peters,” a SWAT agent said after jogging over to us.

“Where?” I asked.

He looked at me, shocked that I was taking the lead and not Hotch. He cleared his throat. “Couple of blocks from here. His car was wrecked with him inside.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s dead. The M.E.’s there now.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Morgan mumbled under his breath.

The four of us started walking there, taking the SWAT agent’s lead, and Spencer caught up to us, following along my side. When we got there, he immediately parted from us to talk to the M.E. What a fucking shit show. Peters must have been trying to run away from us when the Unsub caught up to him. First, Linda, then he tried going for Thane but fucked up and drugged Anna, and now Peters was dead. Was he going for employees of the club? That had to be the answer, unless someone else fucked up the car and it was just a random hit and run—but considering that we were standing in a dark, quiet, abandoned alley, I highly doubted that this wasn’t motivated.

Reid came to tell us what he knew. The car crash had trapped Peters’ legs, preventing him from running away, but it was the PMMA that had been poured down his throat that actually killed him. So, it was definitely motivated. This was premeditated, the violence indicated a personal grudge because of the overkill, and the fact that this was more personal than any of the other murders.

“It’s too much of a coincidence,” Hotch said. “Sean ran, then this happened… I’m going to have Garcia run a background on Sean.”

“Come on, Hotch,” Morgan said, “you can’t think that it’s him.”

“I don’t, but I can’t eliminate him as a possibility now until I know what he’s hiding.”

I shook my head and sighed. “Absolutely not.” Hotch looked at me, bewildered. “You’re obviously not thinking straight, Aaron. Listen to yourself.” I shook my head again. “Go take a walk.”

“Y/N—”

It was like déjà vu when I insisted again that he leave and he reluctantly and angrily turned to leave the alley. Morgan and Reid were staring at me. They couldn’t believe that I had the audacity to bench Hotch, and that he actually fucking listened to me; but I think some part of Hotch knew that I was right, which was exactly why he listened and left.

“So, what do we know now that this guy is dead?”

“The Unsub doesn’t care about who dies now,” Reid explained. “The innocents were just a distraction, but the real targets, it seems, based on the brutality, are the employees of The Edinburg.”

“So, it’s personal.”

“Yeah.”

Morgan’s phone started ringing, probably with a call from Garcia because he smiled and answered with, “Hey, baby girl.” And then he put the call on speaker.

“Oh, you guys are going to love me,” Garcia said excitedly.

“We already do.”

“Yes, but even more now. I just found out that our first victim at The Edinburg that Sean knew about, Erik Sullivan, and our recently and dearly departed Hatchitt parents, all withdrew money on the days of their deaths from the same ATM. Where is said ATM, you might be asking yourself, well, it’s located in a bodega two blocks from The Edinburg.”

“You’re right, we do love you, Garcia, thank you,” I said. I looked at the boys. “You wanna go check it out while I talk to Hotch?” They nodded and started walking towards one of the black SUVs. I spun around on my heels once they were gone, looking far and wide for Hotch, only to find that he was relaxing against a brick wall on the opposite end of the alley, hiding in the shadows. I headed over to him. “Okay, Batman, what gives?”

“I’m still worried about Sean,” he admitted. “I hate that I am, though, because I’m honestly sick of this. I keep saying it again and again, but I really mean it this time, Y/N, and I need your support on this.” He looked up at me. “I told you that I was done playing his games after he didn’t show up to Haley’s funeral. I found out that you had invited him to the wedding anyhow—”

“You knew about that?”

“Of course I did. You suck at lying to me.”

I smirked. “Or so you think.”

He grinned, too, but after a moment, it faded again. “Once I know that Sean’s safe, this is over. I don’t want our family getting dragged into anymore of my brother’s messes. My job is to protect you, love of my life,” he put his hands on my cheeks, “and our children back at home. Being raised by a distant relative who’s prone to bad habits isn’t a good role model to have around. We’ve worked too hard to protect Jack and Scar to have Sean keep coming back and fucking it all up.”

“I get that, Aaron, I really do…” I put my hands on his shoulders. “But Sean is our family the same way Jessica and Elle are. Therefore, his messes are always going to be our messes. We can’t forget that.”

“I can, and I’m choosing to after this.”

“Hotch, he’s your brother.”

“I know, which is why I want to protect him right now.” He groaned when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. “Hotchner.” His attention suddenly snapped up to me. “Sean, I need you to come in. I think that the Unsub might be targeting Edindurg employees. You’re safer with us at the precinct.” Silence for a bit. “I know that you didn’t kill him, Sean. I also know why you ran.” A beat as I raised a curious brow. “Just come in so that we can protect you. No, wait, Sean—” Hotch pulled the phone away from his ear after his brother hung up on him. “Shit.”

My phone buzzed this time, and I almost expected that it was Sean, for some reason. My hopes dropped somewhat, though, when I saw that it was just JJ, letting me know that Thane cracked without much pressure, giving us everything he knew. We knew about the entire distribution line now because we offered him protection against the Unsub. He told them that the PMMA was coming through a private airport outside of the city. Garcia was already looking into employees who could’ve had a stressor recently to convince them to smuggle the drug and distribute it as a means of murder.

I told Hotch as we headed back to the SUV so that we could race back to the office to catch up with everyone. When we got there, JJ, Rossi, and Strauss were on a video call with Garcia as she looked something up. They asked where Morgan and Reid were. I told them that they were going to take a look at the ATM and the bodega where the victims had supposedly bought the wine, just to see if we could make a connection there. Hotch and I took a seat when no one said anything else.

“Uh oh,” Garcia muttered, typing faster.

“Uh oh?” Strauss questioned.

“I ran financial records for all the people who work at the Franklin Airport, just like I said I would, and I found this one baggage handler, Mike Spiers, who’s been making ridiculously large cash deposits to his checking account on a weekly basis.”

“That could mean he’s the Unsub.”

“That’s what I thought at first, too, but then I found the ‘uh oh’ part. He’s been dead for four weeks.”

“Someone’s taken his place. Whoever is making those deposits is our Unsub,” Hotch said. “It’s probably another baggage handler who knew about Spiers’ death and was paid to look the other way, just like Sean was at the club.”

“Garcia, do any of the baggage handlers show a history of drug abuse?” I asked her up on the screen.

“None. They’re surprisingly squeaky clean.”

“What about drug-related deaths in the family recently?” Hotch questioned. I thought about how great minds thought alike.

“I saw something earlier…” She trailed off while researching. “Larry Feretich—Right, yes, okay, I got it. Larry Feretich’s daughter died two months ago of a suspected ecstasy overdose—I’m so sorry I didn’t spot it earlier, Hotch.”

“You weren’t looking for family; it’s okay.”

“Where did she die?” Rossi asked.

“The Obsidian, which is the other club that Jim Peters owned.”

“There’s the stressor and the personal vendetta for you.”

“Where is he now?” Strauss spoke up.

“He’s scheduled to be working right now.”

Hotch pulled out his phone and started texting someone. “Morgan and Reid are already half way there, we’ll send them to meet up with SWAT and arrest him.”

“Seems like Sean can come back now since we’ve exonerated him,” I said. I stood up and passed my hand over his, knowing that I couldn’t plainly touch him while Strauss was around.

Hotch nodded. “I’ll let him know to meet us at the penthouse, I suppose, since our weekend isn’t technically over yet.”

“You’re damn right it’s not. I meant what I said about a godson,” Rossi joked.

We smiled politely at him before waving goodbye to everyone and heading out of the Field Office to go back to the penthouse. In the car, while I was driving, Hotch texted Sean. I took his had in mine and squeezed. We were okay. Our weekend wasn’t completely ruined yet. Everything was going to be fine.

When we got there, Hotch stayed in the entryway, waiting impatiently. I asked him what was wrong. He looked at me and shook his head, insisting that it was nothing.

“We don’t lie to each other, remember?” I interrogated.

“I’m not lying, baby, I’m just protecting you from the truth. They’re different.” He looked at me. “Can you accept that this one time? For me?”

I nodded, then continued to wait with him silently until there was a knock at the door, encouraging Hotch to quickly open the door and invite Sean in. He waved politely at me and I returned the favor. Hotch was staring at me, though, trying to tell me something that I didn’t recognize this time around. I knew all of his looks, but not this one.

“Can you give us some privacy, baby?” he whispered.

“Sure. I love you,” I whispered back, leaning in to kiss him quickly.

He grabbed my hips. “I love you, too. I’ll meet you in there soon.”

We kissed again before letting go of each other, giving me the freedom to wave goodbye to Sean over my shoulder, then make my way to the bedroom.

-----

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc​ @Braty-angel @Braxdix

#Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 31

Series Masterlist

Chapter 31

Warnings: A few curse words, smut

Word Count: 8200

Fred opens the door and helps you into the living room, the hospital having released you. You still have some pain killers, and will be sore for a few days possibly longer.

Unfortunately the twins aren’t ready, so you had to leave them, which took an hour longer than it should have. Fred had to practically pull you from the NICU with tears barrelling down your cheeks. It wasn’t that difficult given that there was a wheelchair waiting for you in the corner and he can easily carry you. If it wasn’t for Oliver you would have put up more of a fight, but he needs his parents. As much fun as he has been having with your grandparents you know they have been struggling to keep up with him the past few days.

Walking through the house you see some shoes haphazardly thrown by the door, dishes rinsed in the sink waiting to be washed, there are some papers scattered on the table all the outcome of the limited time Fred has spent at home the past week. In the bedroom you see a pile of clothes that has been building in the corner and a few towels in a pile on the bathroom floor.

“Sorry, I haven’t spent much time here” Fred explains leading you to rest against the vanity.

“Babe it’s to be expected” you groan while he picks them up taking them to the hamper.

“I just wish I cleaned up more” he yells from the closet. “Just with spending time with you, the twins, shuttling Oliver back and forth this all kind of got put on the back burner” his voice getting quieter as he gets closer to the bathroom.

You know it’s true, Fred never being the messy type. He struggled with the mess that came along with Oliver; the diapers and never ending laundry mixed with limited sleep lead to clutter he never anticipated. That and he didn’t realize how much stuff babies need so storage was always an issue at your old place. It stressed him out never being able to get ahead of it, but eventually he learned to deal with it; accepting some things were out of control and some days kids are messy.

You smile seeing him walk back into the room, Fred’s face lighting up at the same time. He walks over to you placing a soft kiss on your cheek then he makes his way to the shower turning it on. He walks back helping to slowly peel you out of your clothes. You wince slightly from the pain having to lift your arms which causes a scowl to cross his face.

His eyes slowly scan over your body, but not in a wanting desire filled way; he is looking at your bruises and scars this being the first time he has laid eyes on your body since the accident. His eyes stare at your bruised ribs, hands gently rubbing up your arm tracing the faded colours of your skin. He sighs bringing his eyes back up to yours, shooting you a soft half smile.

He returns to the shower and places his hand under the stream adjusting the dials slightly “almost ready” he says stepping back closer to you. You shiver slightly from your exposed skin in the cool air in your bathroom, your nipples hardening. He pulls his shirt over his head and grips his pants, pulling them and his boxers down in one fast motion. You stare at his naked body, a confused look on your face.

“What are you doing?” you ask him as he stumbles out of his socks.

“Never had a problem with me being naked before” he smirks holding a hand out for you. You take his hand and step forward chuckling “I don’t have a problem with it, just wondering why you are naked.”

He helps you into the shower and you feel the warm stream hit your back “I just thought you could use some help, you’re still in a lot of pain. You can barely take your shirt off” he says adjusting the shower head to hit your hair. He gently runs his hands through your hair you tilt your head allowing you to gaze in his eyes.

The last week has been hard on him, the pain written all over Fred’s face; but today he finally looks at peace. He is still tired; physically, mentally and emotionally, and likely will be until the twins get home but getting you home has been a major relief to him. You coming home means Oliver gets to come home and the first step towards normalcy.

His beard is pretty grown in but given they are in the conference finals that doesn’t shock you. But his mustache that’s a different story. He had been trimming it to keep it from getting into his mouth, but it’s longer than you have ever seen it. It is fully curled into his mouth, but since he refused to leave unless it was to get Oliver it’s not that shocking.

He picks up your shampoo and begins massaging it into your hair. You sigh at the contact having forgotten his delicate touch eyes sliding down his body following the water dripping down his hard chest. You tilt your head, following the trail of water down the ‘V’ of his abs, onto his member.

“Hey” he says tilting your head up, directing your gaze to his dark brown eyes “gonna get shampoo in your eyes. Besides my eyes are up here” he jokes rubbing conditioner into your hair.

“Isn’t the pot calling the kettle black” you mumble with a mischievous grin on your face. Fred doesn’t respond busy rinsing the body wash from your body, but you can tell by his smirk he heard you. When he is done he reaches around you to turn the shower off, you place a quick kiss on his cheek your hand gripping his hips. He turns his head to look at you and smiles and kisses you on the lips; you taste the water that has pooled on his upper lip.

“You need to shave babe” you whisper, his hair tickling your upper lip.

“Been a little busy” he replies stepping away. He grabs a towel from the counter; rubbing it over his arms before wrapping it around his waist. He tucks it into itself, hanging low on his hips under the crease of his muscles. Next he grabs a towel gently wiping down your body before wrapping it around you. The soft fabric feels amazing against your skin having spent the past 8 days with cheap hospital bedding and towels.

“Well you have time now babe” you say as he brings another towel to your hair; dabbing the ends of it.

“We’ll see, kinda like it” he grins trying to wrap it around your head but it unravels in his hands a few times. He loudly groans attempting to redo it but it falls onto the floor landing in a pool of water.

“It’s fine, don’t worry I’m just going to nap soon anyways” you laugh knowing he won’t be able to get it to stay on its own. “I mean as long as you’re fine looking at my hair when it dries crazy.”

Fred rolls his eyes at you “dealt with your bad breath the first couple days I can deal with your wild hair” he says picking it.

“You said it wasn’t that bad” you yell.

“I lied” he responds your eyes going wide. “If I didn’t you would have tried to get up to the bathroom and you were supposed to rest.” The edges of his lips curl upwards slightly “it wasn’t that bad (Y/N).

“You’re lying” you say in a firm voice pretending to be mad your lip curling into a pout. Fred leans forwarding prying the pout from your face with his delicate kiss.

“But back to your facial hair” you smile and Fred just shakes his head helping you to the bedroom. He leaves you on the bed; you notice the duvet is crinkled having been quickly thrown on the bed. All but one pillow remain on the bed, the rest scattered on the floor. Not that that surprises you, Fred hates the pillows you have on the bed, saying the 10 décor pillows are excessive and unnecessary.

You sit on the bed goosebumps developing on your skin. Water dripping from your hair down your body sending a chill through your body. Fred walks in from the closet having exchanged his towel for grey sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. He has yet to brush his hair, damp red hair splayed across his forehead water droplets glistening in the lights.

He hands a pair of your grey track pants and one of his hoodies in his hands. He helps you get dressed, pulling the corner of the duvet back but you shake your head.

“Downstairs” you whisper knowing Oliver will be home soon and you want to spend as much time with him as possible.

Sometime later you are awoken by the sound of the front door closing. Oliver’s excited chatter echoing down the hall, and Fred trying to keep him quiet.

“She’s sleeping so we have to be quiet” you hear Fred say softly followed by a saddened “oh” from your son.

You don’t know how long you have been sleeping for but your body is starting to ache. You are lying on the couch in your living room; Fred brought your pillow down for you and placed a blanket over you while you slept. You sit up resting on your elbows and turning slightly to look down the hall waiting for him. You hear Oliver’s soft footsteps while he walks down the hall, his face lights up when he sees you are waiting for him.

“Mommy” he exclaims taking off running towards you.

“Hey Oliver” you laugh as he jumps on the couch wrapping his arms around your neck.

“Hi mommy” he says hugging you back. Fred walks in setting Oliver’s bag down in the room. Your eyes follow him while he grabs some drinks for everyone while you hold Oliver tight to your chest. You wipe away a few tears once Oliver finally pulls away “why are you crying mommy?” he asks concerned.

“Oh I’m just so happy” you respond pulling him back towards you. You kiss his head “I am so happy that I’m home and that your home with me.”

“I missed you” he sings pulling away when he feels the weight of the couch shift. Fred sits beside you pulling Oliver onto his lap handing you a drink and some pills.

“Want to watch a movie?” he asks him and Oliver nods in response

“What movie” he asks kissing his forehead. “Toy Story” Oliver responds causing you to smile.

Fred adjusts the pillow resting it against his thigh turning on the TV. You lay your head back on the pillow, placing a hand on his thigh. Fred gently runs his hands through your still slightly damp hair. His soothing actions and the pain pills you are on cause you to drift off partway through the movie begins.

“He’s asleep finally” Fred says crawling into bed later in the evening.  “He wanted to stay with you, took a little convincing and 3 more stories.”

You laugh looking at him “sounds about right.” If you’re weren’t so sore you would have objected to Oliver sleeping in his bed, but you know you just need a couple nights rest without a squirmy toddler beside you.

“He missed you a lot” Fred whispers pushing some hair behind your ear, your hand lightly resting on his hard chest.

“I missed him too” you smile “and you, come closer” you say. Fred shakes his head at you causing a frown to develop on your face “I don’t want to hurt you” he says placing his hand on your forearm.

“You won’t, I promise” you respond lifting the duvet up for him. Fred hesitates his thumb gently rubbing your chin “how is this different than you lying beside me in that tiny hospital bed?”

“I never slept in that bed, I lied beside you but always moved to the cot to sleep. I knew I couldn’t hurt you if I was awake. When we sleep we move around and I just….I don’t...”

“Okay babe” you whisper running your hand across his chest. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed, it has been weeks since you have slept in the same bed as Fred. You have been yearning to wrap yourself in his arm, your head resting on his chest being lulled to sleep by the rise and fall of his chest. But after everything you understand his reluctance and shoot him a soft reassuring smile.

Fred grips your wrist bringing it to his lips for a kiss. He stares at the bare skin mumbling something before getting out of bed. He walks over to the hospital bag tearing everything out of it; you rise up to rest on your forearm watching him having no idea what he is looking for. Not that you mind, he is only wearing a pair of tight boxers that show off his sculpted glutes and thighs while he bends over. So you would be content watching him for a while.

He finally finds what he is looking for and walks back over to you. He takes your wrist wrapping the white gold bracelet around it and fastening the clasp. “The hospital had to take it off” he explains while you smile at him “but you look like your missing something without.”

“I felt like I was missing something” you respond eyes getting heavy.

--

“Babe you need to go back to hockey” you say to him. Fred hasn’t played a game since the accident; he has been reluctant to leave your side unless it’s to go to the hospital to see the twins or the store.

“Your parents are here, my grandparents are nearby. The twins are getting better, and stronger. Your team needs you” you say hands resting on his hips. His parents arrived a couple days ago and have been helping with everything while you recover.

You thought once they arrived Fred would get back into hockey knowing both you and Oliver would be in good hands during his absence, but that hasn’t been the case. Fred ended up going to a couple practices but still hasn’t given them a timeline for his return despite your encouragement. The Penguins are down 0-3, game four being tonight in Pittsburgh, they told him if he feels ready he can start game 4; thinking the change in net could help spark the team.

“My family needs me. You are more important” he responds looking over the stove spatula in his hand.

“I am doing better; I’m moving around, no longer on my pain meds. I am fine. The twins are fine, the doctors are happy with their progress. Your mom will make sure everything is fine” you say turning your head to the island where your son is colouring. “Do it for Ollie.”

“Do what for me?” you hear Oliver peak up at his name.

“Go play hockey tonight” you respond to him.

“Yay daddy!” he cheers running to Fred who scoops him up laughing.

“You should go Frederik; you know I raised four kids. Some people might say I know what I’m doing” Charlotte says from the couch.

He shoots you a glance and shakes his head groaning “we’ll see.”

A few hours later you are on the couch with Oliver, his parents downstairs watching a movie. Fred walks into the living room in in his navy pinstripe three piece suit, his hair has been lightly styled, but you can still see the waves from his curls. He has on a crisp white dress shirt with a red tie tucked behind the vest. He is adjusting the sleeve of his jacket, doing up the button when he looks up to see you staring at him with a grin across your face.

“Can’t look at me like that babe, not for at least 5 more weeks” he jokes kissing you softly.

“Then you can’t look this good” you mumble against his lips, feeling yourself instinctively get wet by his presence.

“You told me to go to hockey, you made me look this good” he says kissing you again.

“Bye daddy, have fun at hockey!” Oliver says wrapping himself around Fred’s legs. “I ordered you guy’s dinner, it will be here at 5:30” he says kissing you on the forehead. After dinner you and Oliver cuddle up on the couch watching the game.

Fred is having an amazing game, stopping every shot; completely in the zone. Oliver sits beside you and claps and cheers with every play Fred makes, you can see the pride radiating off of him. Charlotte laughs watching him “Fred used to be like that watching his dad play” she smiles turning back to the TV. Ernst asked Oliver if he wanted to go to the game, but he said he wanted to stay home with you resulting in the 4 of you watching in your living room.

You notice Oliver’s eyes getting heavy at the start of the 3rd period, you expect him to fall asleep, but you end up falling asleep first. You are awoken a little while later to Fred’s arms gently cradling you while he holds you against his chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep” you mumble against his chest.

“Are you serious? You’re supposed to be sleeping not up late watching hockey. Should be getting you in trouble for staying up so late, Oliver told me you made it part way through the third” he whispers placing you in the bed.

“He didn’t fall asleep?” you ask him.

“No, he was on the couch, reading to you while you slept. My mom tried to take him to bed and he said no I’m staying with mommy” you laugh at the strong willed nature of your toddler feeling the weight from duvet being pulled up your body. “Now go back asleep” he says placing a kiss on your lips before standing up to get changed.

“Wait” you mumble “how was the rest of the game?”

“We won 3-0” he says hanging his suit in his closet.

--

“Hey babe you’re up early” you hear Fred say through a raspy morning voice, wrapping his arms around you. You set your coffee on the counter and turn around in his arms you can see the bags that have developed under his eyes that are struggling to stay open. You bring your hands to cup his cheek running them through his beard bringing his face closer to yours. “I’m just so excited, I couldn’t sleep” you squeal kissing him.

Today after more than 5 weeks in the hospital the twins are coming home. It has been hard only getting a few hours with them every day, but today you finally get to bring them home. You thought that the best feeling was a week ago when you got to hold them for the first time but you were wrong. You know when you finally walk out the doors with them it will be the best thing ever. Fred’s arms wrap around your back and hold you tight to him “we can’t get them until 10, its 6:30” he laughs.

“I’m going to get ready!” you chirp, ignoring him and heading to shower.

A little while later you have done your hair and makeup when you are standing in your closet. You are in a pair of dark wash straight cut jeans and a bra trying to decide on a shirt. You look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the scar from you C-section, and some of the weight you haven’t lost from the pregnancy. You scowl running your hand over the stretch marks on your stomach.

“You look amazing elskede” you hear Fred say and you turn around and see him leaning against the door frame. You don’t know how long he has been standing there, but he knows exactly what you have been thinking the entire time. He walks over to you and puts his hands on your sides “I love you, and I think you look absolutely stunning.”

You roll your eyes slightly and shake your head at him “lose the weight, don’t lose it, gain more. I don’t care. I’m not with you for your looks just like you’re not with me for mine.”

“Eh” you joke shrugging causing Fred to laugh “I mean this” you point up and down his body “it’s very nice.”

You can practically hear his eyes roll in his head “just wait until I retire, dad bod all the way.”

You stand on your tippy toes and kiss him while laughing, arms wrapping around his neck. His hands slide to the small of your back, his pinky hooking through your belt loop while his mouth opens more for yours. You taste the coffee on his breath as his tongue slides in your mouth. You rock your hips up against him and he groans pulling his hips back “babe you can’t, doctor’s orders.”

“For me” you whisper in his ear “not you.” You bring a hand down and begin to palm over his jeans when he grips your wrist and pulls it off him. A pout comes across your face he quickly kisses it away “it’s almost 8:30, breakfast is ready. Come eat so we can bring our boys home.”

He gives you a playful tap on the ass before leaving the closet. His teasing sends shockwaves immediately to your core; you huff in disapproval mumbling under your breath before pulling on a white tank top with a light pink jacket.

“You ready to go babe?” you ask Fred who is sitting on the couch. He stands up and comes over to you “mommy I come too?” Oliver asks getting up from his toys.

“No buddy, you have to stay here with Christie” you say to him.

You see his eyes well up, bottom lip quivering, he has been having a rough couple days since Charlotte and Ernst left. They stuck around for a couple weeks after the series ended in a game 7 loss. Fred stepped in with a shutout in game 4 and helped them win 5 and 6 but game 7 went to the Leafs in an overtime loss.

They were hoping the twins would be discharged and they could have some time with them, but unfortunately they still had to stay in the NICU for a couple more weeks. The NICU tries to limit the number of visitors which resulted in them only seeing the twins twice during their trip, which is also why Oliver hasn’t spent much time with them. That and hospitals aren’t the most exciting place for two year olds.

Your eyes shoot up to Fred and you sigh, Fred crouching down beside you. “When we come home we will have dinner and play a game okay bud” he says rubbing his hand up Oliver’s arm. You watch him sniffle his tears back and turn around walking away from both of you.

“He will be fine babe” Fred says pulling you up to your feet. “The boys will be home soon and all three boys will be home causing mayhem” he says which earns a light chuckle from you. “Toys and books everywhere, food stuck under the couch cushions. Mini stick games in the basement, wrestling matches” he continues.

“That sounds amazing” you say laughing “I can’t wait for that crazy life with you.”

“I can’t believe they are coming home” you hum walking into the NICU picking up Noah from the incubator. You look to Fred and see him sitting in a rocking chair holding Lucas with no shirt on.

“Where is your shirt?” you ask eyes going wide. Your five pound son looks incredibly tiny pressed up against his 230 pound body, but perfect at the same time.

“Skin to skin contact is good for babies in the NICU, but it also helps them to bond with their dads, the smell or something” he explains smiling at you. “Where’d you go babe?” he says softly returning his attention to Lucas.

“I told you last week I had an appointment today” you explain wiping some spit from the corner of your son’s mouth. You walk over to the couch beside Fred and sit down eyes locked on your son.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah just a check up on things since the accident” you respond the edges of your lips curling upwards. “Everything is fine” you coo in your baby voice. You bring Noah’s forehead up to yours and place a soft kiss on him.

Fred’s gaze bounces between you and Lucas for a few minutes before leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips “this is amazing” he whispers when he pulls back Lucas cooing lightly in your arms.

“I know I can’t believe they can come home today” you say putting your head on his shoulder.

A half hour later you have swapped babies, when Lucas starts to fuss in your arms “I think he’s hungry” you say.

You had been pumping milk for the boys and bringing it with you, but hadn’t brought any with you today. Dr. Lang was supposed to discharge them over an hour ago but was called away for an emergency so you are patiently waiting his return for all of you to leave.

“You can try feeding” the nurse says to you from across the room. “It might take a bit to get them used to it, but they will catch on.”

After a little bit of a struggle and some help with a lactation specialist, he finally latches on. The familiar feeling of him feeding, the feeling you had begun to hate near the end with Oliver because of the pain is the greatest thing you have ever felt. Tears fall from your eyes as he eats; Fred stares at you for a minute placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I feel so complete” you say looking into Fred’s dark brown eyes. He smiles looking into yours, a genuine smile one you haven’t seen on his face in a while; since you woke up from the accident.

A few minutes later their doctor comes to complete the final check before releasing them. He takes Lucas from you and completes the exam and giving him the green light before handing him back to you. You buckle him into his car seat, and turn your attention to the exam on Noah. You walk up beside Fred, and he gently places a hand on your back pulling you in close while you listen.

You immediately smell Fred’s cologne which captures your attention. You look at him and see him in a tight grey t-shirt with a pair of dark washed jeans. He has a navy blue ball cap resting a top his slightly untidy hair from when he pulled the shirt over his head. It has been getting harder over the past few weeks, to keep your hands off of him. You hadn’t been together for over a month before the accident, long before your argument. So it likely has been 10 to 12 weeks since you last slept together making everything he does buckle your knees.

If that wasn’t reason enough the pool is open and he has spent a big portion of his time in the water with Oliver. Wet sun-kissed topless Freddie has always been a soft spot for you, Freddie interacting with Oliver another soft spot; combining those things and your knees almost always giving out every time. Lying next to him at night, his hand resting gently on your waist, his hand running through your hair, him just being beside you in bed has been torture not being able to act on it.

After Noah’s exam Fred takes him to put him into the car seat the hospital staff leaving you. You walk over and stand by Fred when he buckles up the straps “this is it” you say excitedly looking at Noah “ready to go home!”

You feel Fred grab your hand, you turn to look at him and see him on one knee. You stare down into his brown eyes that look back at you full of love and adoration “we got to get going babe” you say turning back to Noah.

“(Y/N)” he says softly pulling your hand back turning you towards him squeezing your hand. “You are the most amazing woman in the world. You have brought me the three most beautiful boys and I can’t imagine going through any of this without you. I wouldn’t have made it through these last 6 weeks without you, you are my rock, always have been. Over three years ago I went out for one drink, I ended up with a lot more than I bargained for.” You laugh lightly at that, tears filling your eyes. Fred brings a hand up to the corner of his eye wiping away his tears chuckling lightly at himself. His hands reach out grasping your left hand in his before continuing “you came into my life so unexpectedly but I wouldn’t change anything. I love you and I can’t imagine doing any of this without you” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small blue jewelry box opening it and your jaw practically hits the floor.

“(Y/N) will you marry me?”

“YES! Oh my god yes Fred, of course” he slides the ring on your finger and stands up pulling you into a deep passionate kiss. Your hands slide through his beard his resting on the small of your back. You moan into the kiss your hands sliding up his face pushing his hat off his head. You hear it hit the floor, his hand dropping lower to your ass. You’re on your tippy toes tongue swirling around his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck “oh sorry” you hear someone say causing you to pull apart; a nurse having walked in to check on a baby in the NICU.

You’re eyes go wide and you turn your back hiding your embarrassment against Fred’s chest. “Sorry about that” he responds clearing his throat, a hand gently touching yours.

“No it’s okay” she responds you can hear how flustered she is without even seeing her face “I was just getting something.”

“We were leaving anyways” Fred explains pulling back from you. He looks down at you, embarrassment plastered on your face. He smirks at you, you hiding your face in your hands. You hear her footsteps descend out of the room; Fred’s hands pull your arms down and you into his chest.

You look up at him a large grin plastered on his face but embarrassment still showing on yours “sorry” he says brushing your hair behind your shoulders. “I was going to wait until we all got home, but I just couldn’t wait.”

You run your fingers over his forearms “babe are you apologizing for proposing?” you ask staring into his golden brown eyes.

“No, but I am sorry for doing it in the NICU” he laughs. “I had a plan, a more private plan. Dinner, candles, music, the sunset. Ugh it was such a good plan” he groans.

You smile chuckling at him “babe none of that stuff matters. I don’t care how you propose just that you did.” You wrap your arms around his neck pulling his face closer to yours “we’re getting married” you squeal.

“Mhm Mrs. Andersen” he mumbles a hand returning to your back bringing you closer to him but before he can do anything Noah begins to cry in the car seat. Fred chuckles and places a quick kiss on your cheek “forgot babies have a radar for when you touch their mom” he groans. You pull apart laughing and Fred turns to pick up both their carriers with ease. He walks out of the room first you trailing behind, you feel yourself getting wet watching him from behind. You see the veins of his biceps, his back and shoulder muscles barely straining with the weight. The fabric clinging to his torso being stretched around his flexing muscles makes your panties immediately dampen, you bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from moaning for everyone to hear.

A little while later you open the door and Oliver comes running to greet you “my brothers” he says as Fred sets the carriers down. Fred pulls him into his arm for a hug “yeah, they are home now. This one is Lucas and this one…”

“Is Noah” Oliver claims. “When can I play hockey with them?” he asks earning a laugh from both of you. “In a little bit, they need to get a little bit bigger, a little stronger” Fred responds.

“Right now they will be just doing a lot of eating and sleeping so they can grow. But soon they will be big enough to play with you” you say hugging him. Oliver wanders off unimpressed with that answer, all he has been talking about is playing hockey with them for months. You chuckle slightly shaking your head while you and Fred take the twins to sleep in their bassinets.

“You like your ring babe?” Fred asks when you sit beside him on the couch.

“Honestly I haven’t really looked at it” you say laughing. “It was such an amazing day, but this ring could be plastic I wouldn’t care.”

“Better not be plastic for what I paid for it” he laughs.

“I just mean, this isn’t about the ring, it’s about what it represents” you say kissing him. You sit up on your knees running your hand through his beard “it represents us; our family, our crazy love story and I honestly couldn’t care what it looks like or where you got it.”

You bring your lips to his for a soft kiss “but now that you brought it up” you giggle pulling away.

You bring your left hand closer to your face examining the beautiful engagement ring sparkling on your finger. There is one large oval cut centre stone that shines in the light, and is surrounded by multiple smaller halo diamonds. There is some of the smaller diamonds going down the platinum band.

“This ring is so beautiful” you kiss him again.

“You deserve it babe” he says kissing you back and pulling you into his lap. He brings your fingers up to his and slides the ring off you. Confusion washes over your face and he brings up the band “see that” he says showing you the engraving on the inside of the band. You pick the ring from his hand reading the tiny cursive on the inside.

Du var ventetiden værd 12-02-2021

“You were worth the wait” he whispers and you feel tears prick the corner of your eyes.

“Fred” you whisper as he slides it back onto your finger. Your eyes look up to meet his gaze your fingers becoming intertwined with his. “It’s too much babe, like way too much” you say not even wanting to know the price tag that comes along with it.

“Nonsense elskede, nothing is ever enough for you” he kisses you again in a deep passionate kiss. “You do so much for me; I would give you the world if I could.” The smile plastered on Fred’s face has yet to dissipate since you were at the hospital becomes engulfed in your lips. You bring him in for a deep passionate kiss his hand sliding to your side; “yuck daddy” you hear Oliver chirp from his toys. You both pull apart and start laughing with your foreheads still touching.

“Daddy gave mommy her pretty ring” Fred says to Oliver.

“It’s so pretty mommy” he responds building with his blocks. You turn to Fred eyes narrowed slightly “you took him to see the ring?” you ask knowing he doesn’t have the best track record with secrets.

“Yeah you were sleeping and I had an appointment at the jewelers to pick out the setting so I had to bring him. When we came home you were still asleep so I think that helped him not being able to tell you right away. But he said it was the prettiest ring ever” you smile at that, having to agree with your toddler.

Later that night you crawl into bed having just got the twins down, Fred joins you soon after having put Oliver to sleep. You slide up beside him in the crook of his arm, him pulling you against his chest. His hand gently strokes over your back rubbing soft circles. You sigh at the contact, softly running you your finger up and down his stomach. You both lie there in a state of silent bliss for the first time in months, your family finally complete.

Your finger slides low, feeling the hairs resting just above his pelvis. You lay your hand flat, palm sliding across his lower abs, “(Y/N)” he groans a sharp exhale exiting his mouth.

Your head tilts up to look at him, the edges of his lips curling up slightly. “What” you ask innocently batting your lashes.

He shifts a bit under you; bringing his hand to grip your wrist “behave” he grunts.

“Why?” you ask coyly rolling more onto your stomach. You free your hand and begin to palm over him through his boxers again.

“We can’t” he says while your lip attaches to his neck sucking softly. A moan leaves his lips, your leg hooks over his “who says” you whisper nipping his ear. You straddle him, lips peppering his neck and collar bone. You roll your hips feeling his semi-hard member for the first time in over 3 months.

“(Y/N)” he groans shifting under you trying to free himself but it only encourages you, sucking harder on his neck. He carefully flips you onto your back “you have to stop. It’s not fair to start something you can’t finish.”

A grin crosses your face “well good thing the doctor cleared me to finish this.”

“Oh yeah” he smirks arms resting on either side of your head. His hands tangle into your hair lips hovering an inch from yours. You bite your bottom lip nodding up at the large Dane above you. Fred brings his lips down to yours locking you in a kiss. It is a heated kiss full of passion and hunger, both of you yearning for this long forgotten touch.

His lips gently attach to the sweet spot below your ear; you tilt your neck allowing him more access a soft moan leaving your lips. His hand slides under your tank top, finding your perk nipple; he gently massages it while your back arches off the bed.

He gently spreads your legs with his thighs and brings a hand up the inside of your thigh to your slit. He runs it over you feeling some juices that have collected “fuck baby” he mumbles “your soaked.”

“Have been for weeks” you moan feeling his digits dance around your entrance. His thumb begins to softly graze over your swollen bud. You feel his two fingers gently open your folds waiting to sink in. He drops his head onto your shoulder and huffs in disappointment.

“What is it Fred?” you whisper sensing his hesitation.

“I don’t want…what if I hurt you” he asks softly.

“We went through this after I gave birth to Ollie, and you didn’t hurt me then” you explain bringing your hand up into his hair gently running it through.

“Yeah but last time you weren’t in a car accident that almost killed you” he says to your chest head buried between your breasts. “It’s different than last time” he whispers pulling his head up resting on his forearms.

You cup his face gently running your hand through his beard “babe I love you and how much you worry. But I am fine; the doctor said so. I promise you I am fine” you draw his lips down to yours kissing him softly.

Fred’s eyes shift over your face while he processes your words. “If you want to wait then we will wait, but whether we have sex tonight, a week from now or a month from now these worries won’t go away. They won’t go away until we have sex and you see it’s true. But my preference is to have sex with my incredibly sexy fiancé tonight” you pop the word fiancé, it being the first time the word has fallen from your lips.

“Fiancé” he hums “I like that” a large grin plastered on his face.

You raise your eyebrows at him a sideways grin on your face feeling him shift above you. “Well get used to it fiancé” you grin. His mouth re-attaches to your neck gently nipping the skin causing whimpers to slip from your lips.

“What about birth control babe? We haven’t needed condoms in a while” he murmurs against you skin gently biting your neck.

You gasp brining your hands to his broad shoulders the warm feeling of his breath drawing you closer. He sucks on your sweet spot your nails digging in slightly to his skin. “Well” you moan “I didn’t get any today but the doctor said breastfeeding is effective at preventing pregnancy” you trail off feeling him massaging your sensitive breast softly. Your eyes roll slightly into the back of your head his mouth trailing lower down your chest where the shirt allows.

“And I’m going to make an appointment for an IUD soon and then no more babies” you say between your moans. He bites your tank top and pulls the fabric lower with his teeth exposing your breast. His mouth attaches to the freshly exposed skin “but until then we should wait no?” he mumbles.

“We can wait until I get an IUD which I don’t even have an appointment for, or you can run to the store and buy some condoms” you groan tilting your neck while his teeth gently graze over your nipple. “But the doctor said breast feeding is 99% effective for six months or something.” “That’s pretty good” he mumbles pulling your shirt over your head reattaching his mouth to your breasts.

“Yeah and I’ll get an IUD before then” you groan hands sliding down his back. “Babe their sensitive” you groan while he sucks on your breasts.

“They are also larger than normal” he smiles popping his head up to look at you.

“Both the result of breast feeding” you respond laughing at him. You feel his hard member pressing into your stomach through his boxers.

Your hand slides further down his firm back feeling the curve of his muscles while he exhales above you. Your hands reach the elastic of his boxers; they slip under the band and begin to pull the fabric down his ass. You gently grip it and squeeze, pulling him toward you earning a chuckle from him.

He pulls your shorts down your legs and you feel his hard member pressing at your entrance “you sure” he asks one final time. You nod and feel him slowly slip in your walls causing you to take a deep breath in.

He stops only partially in watching your face scrunch up, slowly exhaling “it’s okay” you whisper. He pulls out almost all the way and slides back in at a painfully slow pace, again not using his full length. He does this a few more times allowing you time to stretch and familiarize yourself with him.

Your hands grip the hair on the back of his neck while he continues his slow pace. You arch your back and roll your hips trying to bring him deeper but he pulls back still not bottoming out in you. He rocks his hips in and out a few more times, you bend your knee and his large calloused hand runs up and down the back of your thigh slowly keeping his gentle rhythm inside you.

“Babe” you groan putting your hands onto his shoulder pushing his body away from you causing him to pull out. Fear washes over his face thinking something is wrong. “I’m not going to break” you push him onto his back straddling him.

You grip his member and line yourself up slowly drop down on him, taking him in. You feel your walls fully take him in; you stare at the man below you for a second allowing a smile to cross your face. You rise up drop down on him, Fred allowing you to set the pace, his hands gently holding your hips. Your hand drops onto his lower abs your head falling backward while you continue slowly rising on him.

Soft moans begin to leave your lips, your lashes graze your cheeks. His thumb presses into the sides of your hips a grin crossing his face as he relaxes watching you. You hand slides up his chest, your hair falling in front of your face while you slowly increase the pace. Fred brings a hand around his thumb resting against your hungry bud.

He locks eyes with you and you nod; his thumb pressing soft circles bucking his hips up into you. Your hand slides across his chest slick with sweat to his shoulder; digging into him. You fall forward Fred catches you while he sits up in the bed bringing his mouth to your swollen breast. His other hand trails up your spine lightly grazing your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. You shudder against his touch while his hand makes it way to your hair tangling into it.

You feel your high approaching, the familiar burn building in the pit of your stomach. Fred flattens his tongue licking around your nipple; your arms wrap around his neck running your nails against his scalp.

“Close baby?” he mumbles sucking on your neck.

You bite your bottom lip deep moans leave you as you are unable to respond, though you know Fred knew the answer before even asking the question. After 3 and a half years Fred knows your body almost better than you do, and he noticed your telltale signs as soon they started.

Whimpering at the sensation overcoming your body, you draw him closer; pulling your body against his. He bites your shoulder and you cry out head falling backward. He uses this as an opportunity to nip the exposed flesh along your collarbone.

Fred’s hips continue to lift from the bed, him now taking over the pace. You feel him stutter getting close to his high. His thumb presses firmer into your swollen bud as you feel your walls starting to flutter around him.

“Cum for me (Y/N)” he strains.

A few more thrusts and you feel the coil in your stomach snap, you clench pulling him deep inside of you. Fred grunts before twitching inside of you, and you are flooded with his familiar warmth. He shoots wave after wave of cum into your pussy while you moan into his shoulder. After a few thrusts Fred stills under you allowing you both to capture your breaths.  

“You okay babe?” he asks tilting your head to look into your eyes. You nod a few soft whimpers leaving your lips in response. You sit there in bliss Fred brushing the hair off your forehead. After a deep breath the edges of your lips curl up into a smile “perfect” you finally whisper in response.

His fingers gently run over the curves of your body settling on your waist. He slowly lifts you up slipping out of you, a mixture of juices spilling down your thigh while he sets you beside him. You go to lie down but Fred quickly picks you up, pulling you against his sweaty bare chest. He brings you into the shower, sitting you on the bench, the cool marble sending a chill through your body.

Fred turns on the water and looks at you, goosebumps covering your body teeth clattering. He runs his hand under the stream turning his attention to you laughing at the sight “it’s not cold, you’re so dramatic” he laughs. He reaches out wrapping his large hand around your wrist pulling you against his hard chest.

“You love it” you chuckle arms wrapping around his waist guiding him backwards to the stream.

“Mhm” he hums spinning you into the water “I sure do fiancé.”

Next Chapter

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