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boba-xing · 4 years

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Captivating {Chapter 7}

Fem!Reader x Werewolf!Choi Seungcheol (SVT)

Warnings: swearing, dark themes/mentions of torture

Tagged: @suhappysuho @captain-brie @seekerbabygirl @moon8894 @yippee-kay-yay @sehunnies-hunnie96 @lovinggalaxies @brokenbutchocolate @amixoferrthang @onewoowonderboy @hhhhwww7 @9rachacha @sksk-x @haluim17 @jelly-fishy-babie @sakura-uji @psshwa

You’re sitting on Seungcheol’s bed, a glass of water in your shaking hand, barely able to speak. Your mind is flooded with a mixture of fear and wonder of what is happening downstairs. Since Seungcheol carried your frozen frame upstairs a silence has passed over the house.

Said man is currently sitting opposite you, at the end of the bed, clearly concentrating hard on what he should say. After what feels like hours of waiting he finally speaks, “You said you were interested in mythology...vampires and stuff like that.”

He’s looking at you now, analysing your fearful expression as you nod.

“Well, vampires don’t exist, of course.” he nods, “But, werewolves, well, they d-”

“You’re telling me that was a werewolf?” you breathe,

“Y-yes, yes it was.”

“In your living room?”

“It’s more complicated than that though.” he scratches the back of his neck, “You see, it’s kind of hard to say. I’m not sure if you’re going to believe me.”

You just stare at him.

“Well, me and the boys, we’re a pack...um, a pack of werewolves. We can turn into them, it’s just, well, that really.” He bites the inside of his cheek, blinking at you,

“What?”

“We’re werewolves.” he repeats, “I’m the leader of the pack, I’m an alpha and that’s why I have such authority over the others. And the blood on the shirt you saw on the first night you came here, that was from an attack...another pack.”

You look at him for a moment, taking in everything he’s saying and trying to understand what you think.

It’s bullshit.

You slam the glass down on the bedside table before storming out of the room and down the stairs, Seungcheol following close behind you. You turn around once you’re outside the door. “I’m not taking part in your sick fantasy! What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Is this some kind of furry convention or something?”

“___, I swear to god I’m not making this stuff up! I’m being serious.” he says, clearly frustrated.

Instead of answering him, you scurry down the driveway. You have absolutely no idea where you’re going to go considering you’re basically surrounded by woods with no transport. You pull at your hair, arm forcefully grabbed by Seungcheol to pull you back in his direction.

“For fucks sake, ___, I’m not playing. I know this is hard to believe, but don’t you feel bad for me? Even a little? I can’t help being like this. The boys can’t help being like this! This is just how we were born.” His eyes are wet with tears, “Please, just hear me out. We’re not going to hurt you, I’d never hurt you, you know that!”

“You’re crazy!” You rip your arm out of his grasp and rush away, legs carrying you as fast as you can down the driveway. You manage to pull your phone out, slowing down as you realise Seungcheol is no longer following you. You call Jihyun, your friend from work, and she kindly agrees to come pick you up.

You can feel Seungcheol's eyes on you as you wait for her to arrive and you already know he's going it'll only be a moment before he comes over.

And it is.

As he draws closer you see the tear stains on his cheek, and the determination on his face to pull himself together. "___, please listen to me. I would never lie to you. And I'm not crazy, even if I am, at least I care about you."

You look away from him.

"I know it's hard for you to understand, but I just want the best for you, I want you to be safe. I want you to be loved, and happy, and with me. I care about you, so much, please don't cut me off because you don't understand something." He begs.

Headlights drawing near catch your attention and you stand up as the car approaches, Jihyun's friendly face appearing in the window.

"Bye, Seungcheol." You say quietly as you get in the car.

---

“Please, please, let me go.” You beg, arms yanking at the handcuffs in hope you’ll somehow break free,

The dark figure in front of you just laughs, completely warped and unrecognisable.

“Please.” You cry, hot tears streaming down your cheeks as you pant, breathless, “I’ll do anything, whatever you want! What do you want from me? Please!”

“Maybe you should’ve listened to him.” the voice cackles,

“Listened to who?” You sob, letting your head fall down to face your shaking legs,

The voice doesn’t reply and instead you hear heavy footsteps drawing closer. You jump as a hand finds your neck, gripping it tight and squeezing, squeezing until all the air has left your lungs.

You wake up drenched in sweat, body shaking as you try to calm your breaths. Taking a moment to pull yourself together, you sit up and glance around the dark room.

You don’t like the dark.

With a sigh you make you your way to the bathroom and wash your face with some reluctance. Although startling, the cold water clears your lungs and calms you down.

You draw yourself over to the kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of water. You only take a few sips before placing it down on the counter, realising you forgot to close the curtains. A chill runs up your spine. Someone could easily be watching you right now.

You hesitantly make your way over to the window, glancing down at the street. There’s one car you recognise, and as your eyes meet the driver you realise he was already looking at you.

Slipping on a coat and shoes, you scurry down as fast as you can, rushing over to the car as soon as you’re out of the building.

“Joshua?” you ask,

“Get in.” He says after rolling down the window, “Not to go somewhere, just to talk.”

You nod, hopping in the car and shutting the door securely. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching.” he looks at you, somewhat serious, “In case anyone tries to get to you again.”

“Let me guess, Seungcheol sent you?”

“Well, yes, but I’d like to think I would’ve done it anyway.” a small smile forms on his face, “We’re friends.”

You nod, glancing down at your hands.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” he asks with a frown, “Not tired?”

“I slept terribly.”

“I don’t blame you, after tonight I wouldn’t sleep well either.”

You rest your head against the headrest.

“Listen.” He begins, “I know you don’t want to believe it, but the whole werewolf thing is true. And if you just gave us a chance, maybe you would realise we aren’t the man-eating monsters everyone makes us out to be.”

“Werewolves aren’t real.”

“It doesn’t matter whether you think they’re real or not, you like the fantasy, that’s why you drown yourself in fairytales and folklore. Sure, it’s not as scary, or as sweet, as it’s made out to be. But how can you run away from something you’ve dreamed of?”

“I watch horror films, that doesn’t mean I want to be in one.” You sigh,

“It’s not like a horror film.” he groans, “Sure we turn into big, dangerous wolves, but we’re still human. We’re still people.”

You look up at him.

“What is it you’re afraid of?”

“I don’t know any of you, like really know you. I’m supposed to be staying in a house with a bunch of men, who are apparently werewolves, with a...I guess...boyfriend? Who scares the living shit out of me when he gets mad and apparently knows exactly where I am all the time. It’s weird?! What part of that sounds appealing to you?” you explain, “And to add to that, I’m being stalked by some creep who drugs people close to me.”

“I know. But ___, just give us a chance, okay? Seungcheol really cares about you and he only wants you to be safe and happy. Come back home with me, and we can sort things out.” he pushes, knowing his next sentence would have him thoroughly beaten if Seungcheol knew he said it, “If you go a week and realise you don’t want to be around us, that’s fine, you can leave.”

This whole situation is crazy. You never signed up for this. You want to go back to your life before this, curled up in bed, single and eating pringles, but you know you can’t....and there’s a small spark of hope in your heart that maybe, just maybe this whole situation could work out? Maybe Seungcheol could be the one for you, and maybe this whole werewolf situation is real...but safe? You know you won’t be able live with yourself if you don’t follow this path. You need to know what happens.

“Please?”

“O-okay.” you nod, Joshua instantly beaming at you,

“Thank you!” He laughs a little, slamming his hand down on the steering wheel,

“I’ll be back in a second, I’m gonna go and get my phone.” you say before moving swiftly out of the car.

You make it back up to your apartment, rushing to your bedroom to grab your handbag and phone before scurrying back out to Joshua’s car. Of course, you fail to notice the previously full glass of water you left on the counter is now empty, and your purse is home to a small, bitter note.

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confusedweasleys · 4 years

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Elemental Desire (Part Two) - Stiles Stilinski x Reader

A/N: Ima back again for #quarantine! Yay. So yes I wrote this because people seemed to really like this story (I had people asking to put me on a taglist holy fuck!) Anyways this is for you guys? Also (spoiler) vote on who it should be at the end! LOVE you kiddos! (Also, sorry for the short chapter, kinda filler).

Request: @sry-stlinski

Triggers: the usual shit

Word Count: 1,011———————————————————————————————————

Surprisingly, it wasn't the cold that woke me up, or the pain. It was the smell - the god-awful invasive smell of gasoline mixed with Redbull and hot cheetos. Well fuck me. There's really only one place that exudes that particular medley - Roscoe. I tried not to groan aloud - I wasn't ready to talk to Stiles if he was in the car - as I remembered the events of the pervious night. How the fuck did he even find me? Wait-wait...Am I wearing any clothes? I disregarded my previous concern and quickly lifted up the blankets to find that I was still wearing my jeans - Thank god. Unfortunately, I was wearing a faded red Star Wars shirt, which I new for a fact belonged to Stiles. Well fuck. Before I had much time to process that fact, I heard footsteps form outside the Jeep, followed by the creaky opening and closing of the door.

"Y/N?" I willed myself not to move, though I knew I was delaying the inevitable. I couldn't stay asleep for forever. "Y/N, I know you're awake." Nope. Not gonna move. Stiles signed and hopped into the back. "Y/N. Y/N. Y/N." He poked me in the side. "Y/NY/NY/NY/NY/NY/N-"

"Fucks sake Stiles!" I said sitting up and slapping his hand away.

"Still not a morning person," he said, smiling happily.

"Not when I get woken up by assault," I grumbled, pressing one of the pillows that was in the in the back into my face. I am so not ready for this conversation. Maybe he won't mention it...?

"You jumped out of my car last night and ran into a fucking hurricane." Ok scratch that. Maybe play dumb?

"Excuse me?" I said shakily. I looked out from under the pillow, laughing at him. "I think I fell asleep in your car on the way home. By the way, did you call my mom?" I asked, vainly trying to change the subject.

"Yes, I called Momma Y/L/N," Stiles said. "But last night-"

"Thank god you said something, you know how she gets when-"

"Y/N. Stop trying to change the subject."

"I'm not trying to change the sub-"

"Y/N! I found you passed out, covered in bruises, blood, snow, in the middle of a fucking hurricane. Something is going on, and you need to tell me. If you're in danger..." As if he cares.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I said, annoyed. The voice was already back, after it caused me to have an elemental meltdown in the woods.

"What?" Stiles said, looking hurt.

"No, Stiles, not you. It's just - I just." I stumbled, at a loss for words. "I don't know how to explain it." Suddenly, everything just felt like too much. I felt hot tears well up in the corners of my eyes, and I quickly tried blinking them away. Tears were not the way to convince Stiles that everything was fine.

"Hey, Y/N don't cry. Whatever it is you can trust me I promise." He hugged me and wiped away my tears. "We've dealt with werewolves and creepy snake-lizards and fox spirits and literally every supernatural creature ever. Whatever it is, we can handle it." Well I guess he made the connection that it was something supernatural. Yippee. I think the magical hurricane might have been the tipping point. Oops.

"But Stiles I don't know- and it's not just me there's other things-" And then his phone went off. Which wouldn't have been a big deal, except for the phone was lying right in front of me, and the contact name clearly read Lydia Martin. And that was all the little evil voice in my head needed to really get going. See? He doesn't care about you enough to listen to you for one minute. Thank god Lydia was calling to interrupt you. She saved him. She really is everything to him. And you are nothing. Nothing.

"Can you shut up for one damn minute?" I whispered, feeling tears pool up in my eyes again. This was exhausting. The voice began to chant a mantra in my head, over and over again: Worthless. Insignificant. Least-loved. Easily forgotten.

I saw Stiles through the tears, saying something to me, a concerned look in his eyes. That was when I felt the wind. It was light, light enough that you wouldn't think twice about it. But I knew what it meant. It meant that I had to get out of there. I climbed into the front seat, easily slipping away from Stiles as he tried to pull me into the back. I was tired of running from him but I had to. I didn't know how to control this fucking thing. I was going to hurt him.

"Y/N. Y/N!" I heard Stiles shout my name as I burst out of Roscoe, blinking in the morning sunlight. Then I ran again. The voice continued to chant in my head. Worthless. Insignificant. Useless. I tried to block it out as I sprinted down a crooked alleyway, making rights and lefts to get far from Stiles. I felt the familiar weight rising in my chest. No. No. I need control.

"I need control." I said, stopping my running and planting my feet. "I need CONTROL!" I yelled, closing my eyes and throwing my hands out as if to protect me from the voice. Worthless. Insignificant. "STOP!" I screamed, feeling the weight tear from my chest again. It felt like pure energy had just left my body, banishing the voice from my head. I collapsed to the floor as a wave of exhaustion hit me. I opened my eyes to see the alleyway slightly destroyed. Water from burst pipes covered the group. Trashcans everywhere were overturned spilling our garbage. Dirt had been flung everywhere from the few planters scattered in the alley. Oh, and someone's car was on fire. What the fuck is happening to me?

A voice jolted me up from the group. "What the fuck Y/N?"

———————————————————————————————————

Taglist: @rogue-of-sound, @deansbbysblog

#stiles stilinski #stiles #stiles x reader #lydia #lydia martin #stiles x you #stiles fanfic #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #scott #scott mccall #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #scott mccall x reader #stiles x lydia #stiles stilinksi imagine

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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: Bedside Stories ch.2 (baon)

Summary: Edge is tired of being in the hospital and that is a fact.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Hints of Kustard Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Hospitals

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it on AO3

Read it here!

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With the IVs and all the monitoring equipment removed, the hospital room could almost be mistaken for a hotel. The walls were painted in cozily muted shades and the landscaped paintings were generic enough to match any accommodations they’d been given on their travels, even the most prestigious. The bed was the only distinguishing feature and even it was less confronting with the railings lowered; there was less concern about him tumbling out since the decision had been made to lower Edge’s pain medication to what he still considered unreasonable levels, but far more acceptable than the quantities that left his head swimming.

Currently the bed was somewhat sloppily made and Edge was settled on top of the blankets, fully dressed with his casted foot resting atop some carefully arranged pillows. Not generally one for fidgeting, he couldn’t help drumming his fingers against the bed-covers agitatedly. Today was they day the doctors agreed for his release; all they needed now was an orderly with a wheelchair and he could be out, away from this room and the four walls he’d been staring at for days.

It was honestly starting to verge on intolerable; he had crutches, the walk down to the parking lot was a short one with elevators to ease the path. And having to be the one sitting and waiting impatiently while his spouse read the release papers was a new experience, one he would have been happy to live without.

Particularly since Stretch seemed to be taking some measure of fiendish delight in it, his eye lights bright as they skimmed over the paperwork. He held up the checklist and said cheerily, “okay, babe, let’s go over this one more time.”

Edge sighed inwardly and nodded. He supposed he deserved this, considering how many times their positions had been reversed. It didn’t mean he had to like it.

Stretch looked down the slight protuberance of his nasal aperture at the sheet, “first question; what are you supposed to do this week?”

“Keep my leg elevated,” Edge recited flatly.

“right you are!” Stretch agreed, chipper as an abnormally cruel chickadee. “and what are you supposed to do every three hours?”

“Ice my leg to keep the cartilage from swelling.”

“you’re on fire, which, coincidentally, is not what you should do with your leg. okay, last one, this is a toughie,” Stretch leaned forward and asked with great solemnness, “when are you supposed to take your pain meds?”

Edge glared at him and gritted out, “As directed.”

Stretch beamed at him, flumping back into his chair. “a+, baby, great job! aced the exam.” His humor faded, replaced by an uncommonly steely determination, “so, this is how the week is going to go, yeah? the docs are highly paid medical pros who know what’s what and we’re going to follow the directions they gave us, that they went to many, many years of school for, and everything will go according to plan.”

“I’d like to think I know my own body best,” Edge muttered under his breath. Not quietly enough, Stretch’s eye lights flickered orange and he scrambled to his feet, stalking over to the bed to poke Edge in the sternum with a blunt fingertip.

“highly. paid. pros.” Stretch said firmly. “look, either you do as the doc says, or you might get to change your power stride into a drunken sailor lurch. follow the directions or you’ll never get to face Kevin Bacon in the dance off, yeah?”

“Yes, dear,” Edge grumbled. The situation was irritating, but blaming Stretch for his worries would be more hypocritical than Edge could stomach. Before Stretch could flop back into his chair, Edge hooked an arm around him and pulled him in, ignoring his squirming protests to tug him onto the bed and into his arms, pressing a soft kiss on top of his skull. “Love, I’m all right.”

“uh huh, sure,” Stretch managed to wriggle free enough to glare at him. “if i tried any shit and my excuse was ‘i know better than people who’ve gone to medical school’, you’d have my ass.”

Which was true, but aside from the point. “I’d like to state for the record that since I was admitted, at no point have I disobeyed any of the doctor’s orders.”

“not yet, anyway, but you’re still in arms reach.” Stretch gave up on clever escape attempts and settled against Edge’s side. “keep behaving at home, yeah? anyway, they should be springing us soon.”

“They should.” But there was no telltale sign of footsteps, nor the sound of rubber wheels on a tile floor and the irritable tension in his soul was on the verge of snapping. “Could you help me to my feet, I’d like to go to the restroom.”

Stretch pulled back, blinking with what would be a frankly hurtful amount of suspicion if Edge wasn’t sure he would have done the same thing were their positions reversed, “seriously? for what, all that healing grow you the ability to take a leak?”

“Don’t be crude,” Edge chided, “I want to wash my hands.”

“geez, i can bring you a wet washcloth, we’ll be home in like, an hour, why do you-”

“Please.”

Perhaps it was the urgency in his voice, but Stretch faltered, his sockets narrowing to show only the rim of pale white lights. It was perfectly true, Edge did want to wash his hands; even knowing that the hospital rooms were as clean as possible, everything freshly washed and sterilized, it wasn’t enough. He’d been here for days in this bed made up with sheets that weren’t his own, dressed in borrowed hospital gowns and subjected to sponge baths from the hands of relative strangers. The urge to scrub himself clean was constant and he was very much looking forward to showering in his own bathroom, but for now even though his release was imminent, his agitation was starting to slip his hold. At the very least he wanted to wash his hands with hot running water and plenty of soap before he put on a fresh pair of gloves, he needed that.

That Stretch’s expression abruptly softened was a small measure of its own relief, as was his nod. “okay, baby, let’s get you up.”

With some effort, Edge swung his legs off the side of the bed, Stretch helping guide the way. The cast was unwieldy, but it was hardly the first he’d ever had. Not the first broken bone or even broken leg, though Edge could admit it was the worst. He took a moment for his equilibrium to adjust before easing his weight into standing, faint spots dancing in his vision; it was the first time he’d been truly upright in days, but it was fine, just fine.

“okay, here’s the crutches--”

Stretch reached for them at the same time he did, and that was enough to somehow tangle the ends with both their own feet. They worked exactly as a lever should, knocking them both off balance and Edge tried to catch himself but the damage was done. All he could do was aim them both for the safety of the bed rather than the hard floor and Stretch yelped as they tumbled down to the mattress, Edge’s not inconsiderable weight on top of him.

That yelped turned closer to a wheeze as Edge accidentally jammed an elbow into his rib cage as he attempted to untangle himself from the maze of their limbs. By the time he’d managed to somewhat free himself, Stretch was laughing helplessly between pants for breath, “sorry, babe, that didn’t go as planned.”

“Yes, I suspected as much,” Edge said dryly. He was gathering himself for a second attempt, this time without the ‘help’, when a voice came from behind them.

“huh. didn’t think they allowed that kind of action in these rooms, but you do you.”

They both looked up to see Sans standing in the doorway, hands tucked in his pockets and his normal smile playing on his mouth. The dark stains beneath his sockets were a testament to his own days in the hospital, his normal hoodie and shorts rumpled as though they’d been slept in. Which was often the case hospital or not, but seeing it here seemed particularly poignant.

“heya, what’s up?” Stretch asked. He slithered out from under Edge in an eely little move that would’ve come in rather handy only five minutes earlier.

“only the sky and satellites,” Sans said easily. “heard they were springing you, thought I should stop by.” He stepped further into the room, but didn’t close the door, and his grin didn’t touch his eye lights. “hey, stretch, why don’t you go see how that wheelchair wrangling is going, yeah?”

Stretch gave Sans a brutally unimpressed look; he might cheerily claim the title of idiot, but he was nobody’s fool. Low and through his teeth, Stretch said, “i think the orderlies know what they’re doing, doubt they need an amateur to help ‘em.”

Implying that he wasn’t about to follow the unspoken order to leave. This new protectiveness was not entirely unwelcome; to be honest it was somewhat endearing, but Edge couldn’t allow it to take hold. He gave Stretch a gentle nudge, jarring him from his glaring with a quiet, “Go on, love, see what’s taking so long.”

If Sans needed to speak to him alone, then it was likely Embassy business and from the way Stretch looked between them with an expression of distinct unhappiness, he knew it. He started to reach for Edge, his fingers curling abortively into a fist before they touched what Edge knew was a lingering bruise down the side of his face.

“fine. wheelchair wrangling, sure, yippee-ki-yay,” Stretch said flatly. “yeah, okay, but if you upset him, remember that i’m the one stuck riding shotgun with him all the way home.”

Sans only gave him a wink and a finger twirl, “don’t even worry about it, i won’t give the edgelord a reason to whip out the big guns.”

The sound Stretch made was a step past rude and when he stomped out, he yanked the door closed with a near slam, echoing in the small room. Edge spoke before Sans could, asking quietly, “How is your brother?”

Sans seemed unperturbed by the change of subject, “doing all right. about like you, itchin’ to go home. he’ll be here a few days longer yet, they’d like to keep a closer eye on the noggin, but the docs say everything’s going as expected.”

That, at least, was a comfort. “I’m sorry.”

“ooookay?” Sans said slowly, bemused. He rocked on his slippered feet and something about that was upsetting; he’d given up slippers for sneakers some time ago. To see them making an appearance outside of his own home was disheartening, a step backwards. “mind telling me what for?”

The words came with some difficulty, clogging in his throat, but Edge forced them out, “Papyrus shouldn’t have been hurt. He was my responsibility.”

Sans was shaking his head before Edge even finished. “yeah, let’s back up a few steps here. look, you were leading the security team, but you ain’t the only one on it, and if i can forgive myself for not protecting him, i’m sure as fuck not gonna blame you.” Edge said nothing and Sans’s easy smile thinned, “but hey, since you’re going with unnecessary guilt, guess we can hop into why i’m here. after you get settled in at home and you get a mo’, might wanna check out the paperwork for your psych assessment. once you’re back on your feet, you need to schedule an evaluation with the department head shrinker before you can get back to work.”

Edge frowned, already shaking his head, “That won’t be necessary.”

Sans shrugged carelessly. “maybe, maybe not, but what it ain’t is optional. i had to do it myself. it’s only an hour or so, just a chat to make sure your head is on straight.”

“I don’t need a chat,” Edge said tersely. In fact, he was fairly sure it was the last thing he needed, and it was definitely not something he wanted. “I survived Underfell, this incident is hardly comparable.”

Never had Sans’s grin seemed so like his brother’s, sharp and darkly amused despite his blunted teeth. “welp, have i got great news for you, pal. you’re not in Underfell anymore, you’re here and either you play by the rules or you don’t play, you get me, little brother?” For all his vow not to stir Edge up, those two words made him startle, unexpected emotion heavy in his chest, “and you can keep your bitching about it, this ain’t my idea, it’s from higher up. but i agree with it. get it done, you hear me?”

“Fine,” Edge gritted out. It was a terrible idea and unnecessary, but arguing with Sans was less useful than shouting into the wind and expecting it to obey, “Is that all?”

“it was everything on my shortlist,” Sans said, all languid ease once again, “stretch should be back soon. go home, get some rest, watch some shitty tv, smooch your honey on his face as many times as you can. i’ll try to stop by once paps is back home, maybe we can schedule a playdate for you two martyrs, and you can chat about tossing yourselves on grenades or whatever else you have planned. maybe if you two idiots can stop taking on the blame for any shit that rolls downhill, you’ll have a good time.”

He started turning to door and Edge blurted, “Sans.”

Sans stopped, head tilting curiously.

It was difficult to ask, given the state of whatever the relationship between Sans and Red was, and yet, Edge’s normal sources were failing him; the Embassy servers were still closed to him and normally his brother would be the one he’d go to first. Therein lay the problem. “I haven’t seen my brother since the day they brought me in.”

“no?” Sans said lightly, but before Edge could do more than keep the tight hurt from showing on his face, Sans sighed tiredly, his head drooping, “yeah, i know.”

“Do you know where he is?” It burst loose and to ask this way, so straightforward and desperate, felt wrong, almost felt like a betrayal, but it was his brother and his bottled up concern was starting to leak around the edges.

Sans sucked on his teeth loudly, but the sudden sincerity in his voice weakened Edge with uncertain relief, “working on it. i’ll let you know if i get any bites.”

“Thank you.” It was all he could hope for.

Sans gave him a nod and then he was gone, sidestepping into a shortcut. Edge sagged back on the mattress, exhausted despite having done nothing today but a foiled attempt at standing.

If he couldn’t investigate his brother’s absence on his own, then Sans was as good as he could hope for as an alternate. He might be somewhat kinder than Red, but Edge recognized a commonality between them, especially when it came to seeking information with less than traditional methods.

Sans was wrong about one thing, though; it had been Edge’s responsibility to watch over all the diplomats, and he’d allowed his personal distractions to interfere with his duty. If his mind had been properly on the task at hand, the damages would have been so much less, and he could only imagine the fallout that the Embassy was currently dealing with because of it since his access had been taken away. It was strikingly similar to the events at the Golden City restaurant with Jeff, his distraction keeping him from protecting those he was supposed to keep safe.

Liabilities, Red called them. Called Stretch. His pretty little liability.

Even worse was a truth he hardly wanted to acknowledge. If he’d given in or ignored Asgore’s instruction and brought Stretch with him, Edge had little doubt his instinct would have been to protect him to the exclusion of all others. Protocol dictated that his concern should have been for the diplomats, but he couldn't pretend that would be true if his husband was there.

Edge shifted higher on the mattress, wincing as he struggled to arrange his cast back on the pile of pillows. The room seemed too quiet without Stretch, echoing emptily, and Edge let his head drop back on the pillows, staring up at the plain white of the ceiling as he waited for the wheelchair and the much-needed freedom to go home.

But the word ‘liability’ was heavy on his mind, and the voice was his brother’s.

~~*~~

As it turned out, the coveted wheelchair was so close to their room, Stretch came damn close to tripping over it when he sulked his way out. And yeah, it satisfied a certain vindictiveness in him to sweetly ask the guy if he couldn’t come back in a half hour or so, since there was important Embassy shit going on behind that closed door.

The orderly didn’t even grumble, probably too awed imagining what the top secret shenanigans might be to think about the fact that Edge was supposed to be off-duty, like, really off, not supposed to be doing any work at all and if almost getting blown up didn’t qualify a person for some paid time off, then that contract needed some review.

But even if it was satisfying to send the transport guy off while Stretch indulged himself in a little justified annoyance, it didn’t exactly keep the guilt from skittering on up his back. Stretch ignored it and wandered down to the nurse’s station where there were a few chairs and a table lined up in a sort of ‘waiting hallway’.

The chairs were even shittier than the ones in the rooms, thin-cushioned and cramped, and way too short besides. Stretch slumped down into one anyway, letting his legs sprawl out in front of him instead of trying to sit properly with his knees up by his ears. It was awkward as hell, but even that was almost welcome. Better to get all his sulks out before he got back into the room, because he honestly didn’t want to fight with Edge today, not when he was about to get him back home. Once they were there it’d be easier, he was gonna make sure of that; one week of rest wasn’t too fucking much to ask.

He was playing a very morose round of ‘Words With Friends’ on his phone, trying to figure out what he could make out of FIX with the letters he had, when the tippy tap of shoes on the tile made him glance up.

To his surprise, it was Toriel and Frisk, and they seemed equally surprised to see him. That at least made sense, he didn’t have many good reasons to be sitting in the damn hallway like an uncommon sort of houseplant.

“Why, hello, Papyrus,” Toriel exclaimed. Sweet lady that she was, she didn’t ask about his current location, even if her shrewd gaze said she certainly noticed it. Technically, she wasn’t a diplomat herself, she only came along as Frisk’s guardian, but try to explain that to anyone who met her, staring at the way she towered over most Humans as they looked up into her regal face.

Yeah, there was a reason that most Monsters still called her the Queen even if she and Asgore were divorced.

Hearing his name from her made Stretch smile reluctantly. Tori was about the only person who called him Papyrus these days aside from his therapist. It was per his own request, way back when she’d come to him and asked for his help with the lab work. She wasn’t his friend behind the door any more than Asgore was, but somehow, it was soothing to have at least one Monster call him by his real name. Plus, she had jokes; it was something, anyway.

Frisk offered a cheerful grin of their own. They were currently making the teenager years their own, all gangly limbs and flared rashes of pimples, but their smile was always warming. Good kid, worked tirelessly to get Monsters the equality that they damn well deserved. They’d gone a long way in showing Stretch that most Humans were all right.

Not that the little fucker from Underswap really deserved the title of Human, but yeah, anyway, that was trauma for another time.

Stretch forced a little leftover cheer into his voice, “hey, guys, what’re you up to?”

Toriel smiled, dimpling prettily through her short fur. “Visiting the other Papyrus.” Her laughter was bright and sincere. “He’s a dear, truly, but it is rather like eating a clock. Time consuming.”

“especially if you go for seconds,” Stretch added gleefully, and Tori let out another peal of laughter, shaking with it as she leaned against her child. Who only shook their head and took her weight stoically, their smile sincere.

“That was a good one,” Toriel sighed finally, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “But if you’d something a little tastier than an hour, we’re heading down to the cafeteria for lunch. Would you like to join us?”

“can’t,” Stretch said, with true regret. Wasn’t often he got to spend time with a pure spirit of the punny kind. Stretch jerked his head towards the hospital room door. “edge is about to get sprung.”

Toriel only smiled, unoffended, “That is wonderful news, dear, won’t you give him my love?” And as Frisk bounced impatiently, she chuckled again. “Apologies, our love. Yes, yes, dear, I’m coming.”

The kid gave Stretch a cheekily salute and darted down the hallway towards the elevators, but before Tori could follow, Stretch caught her arm.

"tori?” Stretch asked, low, “can i ask a favor?"

"Of course,” Toriel glanced at Frisk, who’d paused, looking back quizzically, and called, “Go on ahead, dear, I’ll meet you in the cafeteria.” She returned her attention to Stretch, her expression curious, “What is it?”

"you got enough juice for a little healing yet?" It’d been a few days, she should be replenished, but Stretch didn’t want to assume, not when he was already begging favors.

Immediately, suspicion filled her soft face, "Yes, why?"

He glanced distrustfully around the empty hallway as if someone might spring out of the walls before he tugged up his sleeve, showed her his wrist. The bruises swelling there were stark against the bone, slender, dark smudges only slightly wider than skeletal fingers. Toriel’s eyes widened briefly, then narrowed, studying them, but when she looked back up at him, Stretch met her gaze steadily. There were any number of Monsters here in the hospital with healing capabilities but none of them were ones he trusted enough to show. Not even Blue, but that wasn’t exactly about trust, now was it.

Very carefully, Toriel took his wrist in hand, the fur on her fingers ticklishly soft. Her thumb skirted over the mottled bruises as she murmured, "He wasn't quite awake, was he?"

Stretch said nothing, only nodded shortly, and her expression softened. "I spent a great many years married to a former soldier myself. Promise me this isn't an ongoing issue and I'll heal it."

"i promise,” Stretch said immediately, all stark honesty and he didn’t think he imagined a certain tension leaving Tori’s shoulders. “it's only the second time he's done anything like that in all the time we've been together.” Well, not including fun-time bruises, but that was probably some tmi. “and he was drugged to the gills, too. it was an accident, but my bro might not see it that way."

"You may be right,” Toriel said, with the tone of one who worked often with his bro and had a fair idea of his inner workings. “I have a slightly different understanding of these matters than he might. Hold still, now."

Warmth glossed out from her touch, the soft green of healing and instantly the bruises faded along with the lingering discomfort. A couple seconds of effort to keep back a possible defcon situation with his bro. Not quite a lie, not in his opinion, but even if it was, it was one Stretch could live with.

“thanks,” Stretch said gratefully, tugging his sleeve back down.

“Of course, dear. You take care now, won’t you?” To his bemusement, she leaned down and planted a kiss on top of his skull, the same way she might’ve to Frisk on any given day. “Take care of that husband of yours as well.” Her smiled turned tremulous. “I owe him a debt that I can never repay.”

“every day i can,” Stretch assured her, watching as she walked after Frisk. Come to think of it, might not just be a favor for him that she’d healed those bruises. Hiding them from Edge had been a hell of a chore, too, trying to keep him from feeling even more like shit about it, and not for the first time Stretch wished he was better at healing himself. It would be a nice trick for special occasions, for sure.

The sound of the wheelchair returning caught his attention and Stretch hopped to his feet, wandering back towards the hospital room. Looked like it was finally time to head home, and that, friends and neighbors, was probably gonna take all the patience he could get.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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words-and-seeds · 5 years

Text

You snore in your sleep. But… it’s adorable, okay - Staci Pratt x Rook - 1/1

Because Tumblr has decided to start eating asks, we’re going to do it this way.

“You snore in your sleep. But… it’s adorable, okay?” for Pratt/Rook.

NSFT. 18+ only! Lemony goodness.

Word count: 1,989

“You’re dead, Pratt!”

The words were accompanied by his uniform jacket smacking him in the face. Staci sputtered and tried to fend off his angry friend, but she was determined.

“Cut it out. Cut it out. Cut. It. Out!”

He grabbed for the jacket and yanked it from her hands. “I don’t get why you’re so mad about this, Die Hard is a classic!”

Since she’d been deprived of her makeshift weapon, Rook put her hands on her hips instead. “Classic yes, but it’s also the movie you choose every movie night. I love Bruce Willis, you know that, but I am so sick of Die Hard!”

Staci put his hand over his heart, mortally offended. “How can you be sick of yippee ki yay, motherfucker? It’s easily the best catchphrase. Of all time.”

“Easily.” Rook grabbed his lapels and tried to pull him closer, but since he was taller and definitely outweighed her, only managed to lift herself up to her toes.

“So pick something else, or movie night is cancelled. For all time.”

That was when they noticed they were nearly nose to nose, or as close as it was possible to be with the height difference.

Rook let go and backed away, clearing her throat. She knew the tips of her ears were bright red, she could feel the warmth, could feel it creeping up her neck and knew she was seconds away from blushing. “Anyway, I’m off late tonight, so you pick up the food.”

“I’ll be over around eight thirty, then. Pizza or Chinese?” Staci kept his own voice as nonchalant as possible, like he couldn’t care less about the answer.

Rook wrinkled her nose. “Neither. How about I call the Spread Eagle and have Casey grill us up a couple burgers? You can pick them up on the way over.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He couldn’t help the grin - even he would call it stupidly big - as Rook walked out, but he at least made the attempt to hide it.

Even so, he could practically feel Joey’s eyes boring into his back. “You, uh, you want to tag along, Joey?”

His fellow deputy was far too busy making gagging noises behind her hands to respond at first.

“And interrupt your little tête-à-tête? I don’t think so,” she said, once she was facing him again. “Me and my lady have other plans, anyway. Enjoy your...alone time with the rookie.”

And then she was gone, sauntering out the door before he could think of a clever comeback.

Later that night, about halfway through the movie - it was Jaws tonight - Rook had fallen asleep with her head against his shoulder, and was gently snoring away.

It was, like a whole lot of other things Staci found annoying on other people, strangely appealing when it was her.

Then again, it was getting hard to find something about her that he didn’t like.

He reached up to shake her shoulder, but paused, his hand hovering over her shoulder as he debated whether or not to wake her up. What he really wanted to do was slide his other arm around her and bring her even closer, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He also couldn’t bring himself to wake her up.

She had looked so tired when he’d knocked on her door, and she said her day had gone downhill since he’d last seen her.

Some rest would do her good, and if she was more comfortable using his shoulder as a pillow, who was he to push her away? Instead, he reached for the remote to turn down the volume so she wouldn’t be disturbed.

Rook shifted in her sleep, nuzzling his throat. She seemed to fit so perfectly against him, and her skin was so soft, he couldn’t resist touching.

Gently, so gently, he brushed his finger down her cheek. She made a little sighing noise, and it was all he could do not to lean down a press his lips to hers.

Instead, giving in just a little, he brushed his lips over her forehead.

Staci let his imagination loose for a moment, he imagined waking her with a kiss. Tilting her head up so he could take her lips and then work his way down to her neck - a neck that he wanted to nibble on - to her breasts, to that sweet spot between her legs.

But he wouldn’t. Not when she wasn’t awake, wasn’t aware of what was going on, and couldn’t give him a clear, concise ‘yes’.

With a sigh of his own, he let his head rest on hers.

The next thing he knew, something ticklish was happening to his neck. He jerked his head away, but it kept happening. Staci reached up to swat it away and his hand connected with something soft. Rook let out a soft grunt, and shifted.

“Not nice,” she murmured, nuzzling against his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Staci’s voice was slurred with sleep, and he wasn’t quite up on current events, but when he cracked his eyes open he could see pale morning light filtering in through her curtains. “Time ‘s it?”

“Mmhmm.” Her answer wasn’t so much words as a soft series of hums, but Staci could feel her drifting closer, could feel her lips brushing his neck. “Early.”

“Yeah.” His eyes drifted shut again, and he shifted them so they were lying facing each other, instead of her using him as a body pillow. He sighed when he felt her nuzzling against him, searching for his warmth. In response, his other arm went around her and he pulled her close.

“You snore in your sleep,” Rook whispered.

Even in his half aware state, Staci felt the indignation. “No. You.”

Not the most coherent - or mature - answer, but it was all he was capable of at the moment.

“But it’s adorable, okay?” She pressed her lips against his chin, then the corner of his mouth. “Staci?”

“Yeah?” he hummed.

He still hadn’t opened his eyes. Everything felt soft, lethargic. It was warm, and the room felt heavy and sweet. He wanted to live in this moment, wanted it to last forever.

“Is this alright?” Her fingers were cool against his skin as she turned his face towards her, but it was the slight anxiety in her voice that had him opening his eyes. His lips curled up into a smile and he closed the distance between them so he could brush his lips over hers.

“‘S good,” he murmured between soft kisses.

It was slow, and warm, and it felt so right.

It felt so natural for his hands to slide under her shirt and softly caress her sleep-warmed skin, just like it felt natural for her fingers to wind into his hair. Their kisses grew deeper, longer, but the pace didn’t change. Even as he pulled her shirt over her head, and her hands fumbled with the button on his jeans.

“Condom,” he whispered as her fingers worked their way inside his zipper. His breath caught as her fingers closed around his cock and pulled him free of his pants.

Rook pulled back slightly to look at his face. “You don’t have one?”

Staci flushed, it would have been hard not to. Not with her fingers still wrapped around him, stroking gently. God, her grip was perfect. “Believe it or not, I didn’t come here expecting this. I don’t have anything on me.” “And here I thought you were a boy scout. Always prepared.”

She kissed the tip of his nose and he shifted to take her lips again, but she pulled back, glanced down. Then she smiled and pumped her hand again, using her thumb to stroke the tip. His hips bucked and he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing her wrist.

“Baby,” he gasped. It was the first time he’d ever called her anything other than her name, and if the way she hummed and nibbled on his lower lip was any indication, she liked it as much as he did. “Stop.”

“I thought you’d like it,” she whispered, still teasing him with her fingers.

“I like it. I like it too much.” He struggled to calm his breathing, to control himself. He didn’t want to embarrass himself by coming too soon and ending this, but her sweet fingers were doing a number on him.

“I like it, too. I love the way you feel.” Their faces were a hairsbreadth apart, their lips brushing with every word they spoke. He could see how flushed she was, how her eyes darkened with arousal. It was intoxicating. “I want to make you come.”

His hand was still wrapped around her wrist, but at her words, he slowly released his grip on her and cupped her face in both of his hands. “I’m never going to say no to that, but I want to touch you, too. Can I?”

Rook nodded.

Staci worked at the drawstring on her pants, shimmying them down slightly before he slid his hand down under her knee. He lifted her leg until she braced her foot on a cushion, and then lifted his hand to his mouth. They couldn’t keep their eyes off each other as he licked his fingers and used them to circle her clit. She groaned, but her hand slowly slid up and down his length.

Once she was wet enough, Staci pushed two fingers into her and started to fuck her, slowly and deeply. Rook’s breath went shallow at the sensation.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered, his own voice less than steady. “Such a pretty wet pussy.”

Her breath caught on a gasp, then released on a shaky moan as his thumb found her clit, as he angled his fingers inside of her to find the right spot. He touched her until she bucked against his hand, until her eyes were glazed and her breath was coming in pants.

And she touched him, too. She gripped him hard and pumped his length in short, jerky motions that had his eyes squeezing tightly shut, had him making noises that made no sense. Until his whole body tensed and jerked.

When her orgasm finally arrived, she squeezed him tight and milked him through his own orgasm, sending them both toppling over the edge together. As soon as he finished, Staci took her hands in his and held on tight as his heart pounded in his ears.

With his eyes shut, and her hands in his, the world felt so far away. Like it was just the two of them, in their own private place, and nothing had ever felt so good. She had turned to jelly as her pleasure subsided, and he felt just as quivering and weak. His arms went around her and he held on tight, her head against his shoulder, his breath ragged against the crown of her head.

“Beautiful, beautiful girl,” he whispered, breathing in the scent of her hair. Words were bubbling up inside of him, words he had to choke back. “Are you okay?”

She hummed, pressing a kiss to his throat. “Yes. Yes, that was perfect.”

Rook leaned back slightly, and his arms loosened to allow her her space, but all she did was cup his face in her hands, stroking her thumbs over his overnight scruff. Impulsively, she pressed her lips against his in a quick kiss. She just couldn’t resist. “Staci...I-”

She cut herself off and glanced away. Staci had never felt so bereft. He wanted to know what she had been about to say. Hope, stupid, foolish hope, was bubbling up inside of him. But it was too soon for him to act on what he was feeling, much less admit to it, and the timing was all wrong anyway. Words said in the throes of passion were worth less than nothing.

So he kissed her, and he smiled against her lips, and he murmured, “you’re the one who snores.”

#mags writes #staci pratt #staci pratt x rook #fanfic #fc5 #far cry 5 #this one got a little out of control #and ends weird #and I'm sorry

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cptnsantiago · 4 years

Text

take me home

1/?

~ compulsive

read on ao3

Jake Peralta is a compulsive shopper.

From massage chairs to more massage chairs, if Jake sees something he wants, he gets it. This debt inducing habit lessens when he started dating Amy, but not even her rational thinking effect could stop him at times. Only two months into their relationship Jake had bought an actual lightsaber . Not the fake plastic ones for children, but the ones that look so real that even Amy geeked out a little when she saw it.

Marriage had brought this habit to almost a complete halt. With Amy’s master budgeting, Jake still had a little money to spend on whatever he wanted, but even he had just been putting it into savings for their future .

Their future involving a family, a new house for their family to grow one day. Amy couldn’t be more proud of how he had matured, still managing to keep the goofy personality that she fell in love with. She falls more in love with him every day, and she doesn’t want the feeling to ever go away.

So she thinks her heart might explode the day they figure out she’s pregnant. They had been trying for just under six months, and he had been so involved in her binders and her anxieties. He was there every step of the way, to listen to her fears and discussing the best positions for conceiving before making a very appropriate title of your sextape joke. When she realised they were out of pregnancy tests, he sprinted to the bodega and back in under ten minutes so they could know .

When the timer is up, he’s finally caught his breath but immediately loses it again when Amy is nodding her head frantically, a smile stretched on her face and fat tears falling down her cheeks. He spends some time with her crying on the bathroom floor before he’s rushing to get the pregnancy binder they had been working on together. So they spend the day reading the crap out of the binder, making doctors appointments, more research.

This is when Jake’s dangerous habit makes a comeback.

A bout of sickness had come over her in the late afternoon, leaving her exhausted beyond what she could possibly understand. Except she understood, because of the reading.

Amy last remembers resting her head on Jake’s lap, one of his hands stroking her hair while the other held his phone, still researching while a movie played in the background.

It’s dark outside when she awakes. Jake now has his laptop balanced on one leg while her head still rests on the other. Amy groans, burying her face in his stomach as she stretches her limbs out. “I don’t know if I like pregnancy.”

“It’s only been a day, Ames, give it a chance.” Jake teases, his spare hand moving back to stroke loose strands of hair out of her face. “Good morning, babe.”

“You feel this tired and nauseous for a day and see how you feel.” Amy sighs, a smile still unable to stay off her face at the feeling of his hands in her hair. “What time is it?”

“8:30?” Jake guesses, before looking at his screen and confirming it with a nod. “Yikes, I’ve been on Amazon for three hours.”

“I’ve been out for three hours ?” Amy gasps, “I haven’t napped this hard since I got the flu in college and had to ask for… an extension .”

Jake takes a moment to laugh at how upset she still was about extending a paper all those years ago. “Okay, nerd. You’ve actually been asleep for about four and a half hours.”

“Four and a half hours?” Jake flinches at her screech but quickly recovers. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“It’s been a big day. You needed it.” Jake shrugs with a smile, “Plus I tried. You were passed out . Almost took you to the hospital but your breathing was fine.”

“I love you, weirdo.” Amy kisses him quickly before looking at the laptop screen. “Jake-”

“Now before you say anything-”

“Jake, you have 27 things in your cart!”

“It’s all important, I promise!”

Amy snatches the laptop out of his grip, scrolling quickly through the contents of the list. All baby things. Mostly onesies, but also a few books, a rattle. Amy then looks at the onesies. Novelty ones, of course.

Dad’s a muggle, mam’s a witch.

I still live with my parents.

World’s most expensive alarm clock.

I pooped today!

Yippee ki-yay mother father

Those were her favourites. Amy can’t decide if she’s furious or overwhelmed by love for the worst compulsive shopper she’s met in her life.

“I was gonna get rid of most of them, but they’re all so cute, Ames!” Jake pleads, chewing slightly on the inside of his cheek. “I mean Yippee ki-yay mother father !? That might be the best thing ever.”

“I like the Harry Potter ones.” Amy mumbles, “Although you wouldn’t be a muggle, you’d be a wonderful wizard.”

“ Please , I could kick Harry’s ass any day.” Jake scoffs.

“Okay, sure , you could kick the chosen one’s ass.” Amy rolls her eyes affectionately, messing up his hair up slightly. “Anyway, we can’t get any of this.”

“ Amy. ”

“ Jacob. ”

“Pleeeeease!”

“Jake, you’re spiralling.” Amy says sternly, “We need to have our doctors appointment first. It could be a false positive, an ectopic pregnancy-”

“Amy, you know that won’t happen.” Jake closes the laptop and puts it on the coffee table so he can take her hands.

“It could.” Amy shrugs, “Look, I’m just being cautious. And even so, we’d make a registry so other people can buy us things.”

“Ohh, you’re so smart.” Jake laughs, happy to change subjects. “Let me just get the Die Hard and Harry Potter ones?”

“I don’t want to enable this compulsive shopping habit.” Amy tells him, “We’ll end up with seven different breast pumps.”

“We’re going to end up with seven different breast pumps because of Charles, you know that.” Amy snorts lightly at this, “Ames, I promise you aren’t enabling a habit. Just those two things.”

“Okay.” Amy picks up the laptop again happily, “Just these two things.”

Amy was foolish. She was a fool in love with a compulsive shopper.

To be fair, it could be much worse . The big important things, he leaves for the registry. But when it comes to clothes and books, he was out of control. Especially after they find out they’re having a girl.

Amy’s growing love for her husband overpowers her annoyance at the Amazon deliveries every other week. Jake almost always has a shopping tab open on his laptop and his work computer. She knows that Charles also enables it, makes it worse even.

But Jake agrees to run every purchase by her so he doesn’t get anything completely unnecessary. So arriving home early one afternoon she’s surprised (but completely not shocked at all) to see a package she doesn’t recognise in their mailbox. It’s not Amazon.

Strange.

So she makes her way upstairs, collapsing on the couch with her hand resting on her small bump and resting for a moment before picking up the package again. Ripping the package open, a quiet gasp leaves her mouth and she feels herself immediately tear up at the soft book in her hands.

Animal Crosswords.

On the back, the small description tells her the book contained mini crosswords to help toddlers learn their animals while having fun . At the bottom they advertise other books such as Colourful Crosswords and Shape Crosswords .

It was perfect. Amy didn’t bother to stop the tears as she flipped through the book.

One across, an animal that goes ‘oink’ . Four down, an animal that goes ‘baa’ .

Amy loves Jake, so much . Jake loves their kid, so much . She can barely comprehend every emotion she’s feeling, and it’s not long before she’s sobbing.

This was easily Jake’s best purchase. Everything he bought was less compulsive and more thoughtful. The massage chairs back when they weren’t together were still compulsive, but it had transformed. It transformed into thoughtful, wonderful, adorable purchases. Amy was so lucky, and so was their baby.

Amy calms down to soft hiccups by the time Jake walks through their front door a half hour later. His panic has him immediately on his knees next to her, wiping the dried tears off her cheeks and frantically asking if she was okay. This starts a fresh wave of tears, but she’s almost smiling and giggling which changes his concern to confusion.

Being the detective he is, he soon spots the book in her hands and groans, “Damn it, I was gonna surprise you with that. I know I didn’t approve it w-”

Amy interrupts him with a kiss, his cheeks and mouth soon soaked with the tears that just don’t stop coming . “I hate hormones.”

“They’re definitely weird.” Jake chuckles nervously, “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” Amy laughs, wiping her cheeks again. “Where did you find this?”

“Etsy .” Jake tells her, “Homemade crafts and shit, Rosa told me about it. I suspect she sells jewellery on there.”

“Oh definitely .” Amy agrees, “I’ve been looking for it for a year.”

“Anyway, I just got one for now because I wanted to know what you thought about it.” Jake’s hand moves to her stomach as he speaks. “I know it’s not very useful for her for a little while but she’s half you so she’s destined to be a bit nerdy like her mom.”

“I love it, Jake. It’s so thoughtful, that’s why I’m so emotional.” Amy runs her fingers through his hair, smiling again when he presses a kiss to the top of her stomach.

“Also hormones.” Jake teases, another kiss to the side of her belly where they could both feel her kicking. “I’m glad though, because I contacted the account about making a spanish version for her.”

Amy whimpers as she tries to stop more tears from falling. “Really?” “Of course, it’s a great way to teach her I thought. And Rachel, the creator, agreed.”

“How l did I get such a perfect husband?” Amy drags him to eye level so she can kiss him softly. “And the perfect dad already, she’s not even born.”

Jake shrugs, poking her nose and her bump. “Being the perfect husband is easy. Because you deserve the world. Both of you. My girls.”

#peraltiago #peraltiago fic #b99 fanfiction #jake x amy fic #brooklyn nine-nine #my fics

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