#in the meantime please enjoy these little fun moments as long as they last ;-; | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fairysluna · 7 months

Text

SINNERS — Chapter 4

After Maegor finds out his beloved niece is to be wed with her own brother, he absolutely loses his mind. He can't just let her go.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

PAIRING – Maegor I Targaryen x Fem!OC.

SUMMARY – A year has passed, Maegor's lies are exposed as Aenelys overheard a conversation and they both found themselves in a discussion that was interrupted by an unexpected visit and terrible news..

TW/TAGS – targcest (uncle/niece), age gap, angst, smut (humping, praising), cursing, maegor being his own warning, mentions of death, hurt/comfort, manipulation. if something is missing let me know!!

NOTE – finally i managed to sit and write for this, I'm sorry if it's not perfect, but I'm still struggling with my writer's block.😫 hopefully you'll like this!! pls enjoy🤍✨

WORD COUNT – 5.0k

PREVㅤ|ㅤNEXT

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

Maegor was unable to take his eyes out of her. His hand found its way to her back, caressing the soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. His little princess was exhausted after last night, which finished with her limbs shaking and her beautiful doe eyes covered by tears.

Aenelys had been behaving these past year, and Maegor was pleased with it. As long as he made her believe he was hers, nothing could go wrong. He was smarter this time; hiding his mistresses in brothels while her princess remained oblivious of his acts, waiting for his return and opening her soft legs to him because she was getting obsessed with the pleasure he could provide to her.

He was no fool, not at all. He knew there was no way he could be inside her without getting her with child, and that was no good for his plans… he needed her a maiden, he could not allow her to breed a bastard, not when her title and prestige were at risk. Those were two things he needed from her, her title and her legitimate child, but for that he must be patient, wait for the right moment.

But that does not mean he could not have fun with her in the meantime.

Maegor found himself searching for new methods of pleasure that would work for both, one of his favorites will forever be having her plump lips around him. The first time she learned how to please him with her mouth, she was acting shy and flustered, nervously touching him until he decided to control her movements. Aenelys turned out to be strangely good at this, pleasing him like no other.

"Not even the most expensive whore can suck my cock like you do, my sweet dove," he had told her as he wiped the tears off her flushed face. Aenelys smiled widely, feeling proud after realizing that she was better than anyone. She thought that he would only seek release in her after that… but how wrong she was.

There is no secret that Maegor had some carnal need that needed to be fulfilled, and his wish to be inside some tight, wet walls were too overwhelming to be ignored. This is why, after those times where he could not get satisfied by her touch, he would leave once he made sure she was sleeping, and seek that much needed release with someone else; his dear friend and favorite mistress, Tyanna.

Ser Draqos knew about his dirty little secret, for he would guard the princess door each night, seeing how her beloved uncle and lover would leave her alone for some common whore. It was hard for him to understand how Maegor, a man who had in his power a woman as sweet and beautiful as the princess, decided to sneak out like a rat in the middle of the night and lock himself in brothels with other women. It was nonsense that only a fool could understand.

But now Maegor was laying beside her, his big hand on her back as she started to move, her eyes slowly opening as she turned around with a small, sleepy smile. Maegor put his hand around her neck, not squeezing it but leaving it there as a sign of some kind of dominance over her, something that the princess loved to feel.

"How beautiful you look in the mornings," he whispered, brushing his nose against hers in a strangely soft touch. "Did you sleep well?"

"I always sleep well with you by my side," she murmurs in response. Maegor smirked, almost hearing the devotion in her voice.

Without saying a word, he pressed his lips against hers in a hungry kiss. Aenelys moaned; the sudden act made her heart flutter, still not getting used to these heated touches that made her limbs go numb. The butterflies on her belly blurred her thoughts as he possesively devoured her lips with a fervor that left her breathless. She squirmed beneath him, so easy to arouse. Maegor knew exactly the effect he had on her, and he knew that if he dared to touch between her legs he would find nothing but her sweet slick running down her thighs. Her flesh begging to be touched.

She sighed as he leaned back, a small string of saliva joining their swollen lips as Maegor's darkened eyes stared at hers with a hunger that made her legs shake. He had woken up with the intention of devouring her in every way, not satisfied with the action that took place the night before. Aenelys felt his hand roaming down her body, a small squeeze on her left breast before he positioned himself between her legs, spreading them open for him to see all of her.

She blushed, looking at him with those beautiful eyes that screamed innocence - or at least what was left of it. Maegor growled, his fingers involuntarily touching her soaked folds as she mewled beneath him, her hips moving upwards as she searched for more of his touch.

"Look how wet you are for me, my sweet doe," he mumbled, towering her body as he leaned forward, a shadow casting over her petite frame and hiding her from the sunlight. "And all of this is for me, right?" He asked using that husky tone that sent her into a submissive and pleading state. She nodded as a response muttering a small 'yes' that could be easily mistaken with soft gasps.

Maegor, discontent with that answer, put his hand back around her neck and squeezed it. Aenelys purred under his touch and a smug grin appeared on her uncle's lips.

"I made you a question, princess," he murmured as he brushed his nose against her cheek. "Answer me." His low voice caused chills down her spine, making her pearl throb with excitement.

"It's- it's all for you," she replied in a sigh, her voice thin and weak as he pressed himself against her. His length felt the warmth of her folds and a groan left his lips as she moved her hips, starting to hump on him.

"Good girl…" he sighed.

Maegor then started to move as well, his hips meeting hers in slow but hard movements that made her whine. His hardness rubbing against her swollen bud almost made her eyes roll, her hands holding onto his shoulders at the same time he kissed her. The muffled noises of their passion were echoing in the room.

"I can't wait to be inside you, my dear," he whispered against her lips, "I bet you would feel so good around my cock, squeezing me with that tight cunny of yours."

His words did nothing but to increase her arousal, her cheeks turning red as her mind flooded with images of him claiming her as his. Her mouth dropped open with a whine, her clit throbbing as he used his free hand to press himself further into her soaked flesh. Aenelys closed her eyes, her back arching as his grip around her neck tightened even more.

"Does it feel good, byka mēre?" Little one. That bloody nickname sent waves of heat all over her trembling body as she whimpered a response. "Are you going to cum? I can hear how wet you are, love… So needy for me."

She felt the knot of her lower belly starting to form, searching for that needed release as his name fell from her lips like a sacred prayer. After he let go of her neck, his lips wrapped around one of her sensitive nipples, licking and sucking the delicate bud as she frowned in pleasure and her whole body shook. The stimulation between her legs, plus his hungry mouth roughly working on her breasts, made her see stars behind her eyelids, her limbs shaking as her cries of pleasure became louder.

Aenelys fell apart beneath his thick frame, crying his name as she reached her overwhelming climax. Her breathing was fast, ragged. Her eyes closed as he kept moving trying to find his release - which was far to come.

After a few seconds, Maegor kept going in an useless attempt to feel that knot in his gut. The stimulation was not enough for him, and the frustration was growing inside him, losing his patience. Aenelys started to cry even louder, the overstimulation being too much that it became a bit painful. Maegor groaned.

He let go, trying to use his hand but it was still not enough. Aenelys saw his struggle and she tried to make things better as she noticed how his patience was hanging from a thin thread.

"I can… I can use my mouth-"

"Be quiet," he snapped at her as he stood up, lurking for his clothes around her chambers.

Aenelys covered her nudity with the thin sheets of her bed, staring at Maegor as a tiny feeling of inefficiency filled her chest, almost making her cry. It was not the first time this would happen, and even when she would offer to please him in other ways, he would grab his things and leave her room… just like he did this time.

The princess felt a slight pain in her heart as she was left alone, trying to convince herself that the next time will be different. Trying to convince herself that he went to the training yard instead of a brothel.

Though she was not very sure of that.

A few minutes later passed before one of her loyal maids entered her room, preparing a warm bath for her. Aenelys found herself relaxing in the water while Henela washed her hair. The princess had been unable to focus on anything besides what happened with Maegor, she wondered what she could do to be better for him, to please him and leave him satisfied.

"Are you still a maiden, Henela?" The princess suddenly asked, the lady almost blushed at the question.

"Uh… no, princess, I'm not," she hid her nervousness behind an awkward giggle.

"So you know how to properly please a man, right?" Aenelys asked again without shame. She turned around looking up at the flustered maid, the curiosity shining through her eyes.

"Well, there's many ways to please a man," Henela explained, going to search for the princess' robe. "You can use your hands, or your mouth-"

"I have done those things-"

"Have you?" She interrupted with surprise.

"I have," Aenelys nodded, standing from the tub and wrapping the robe around her body. "But it seems as if they are not enough… Is there anything else I could do to please him?"

The shock on Henela's face was undisguisable.

"I'm not quite sure what else you can do, those things usually work," she murmured, now feeling a bit embarrassed. "Has he ever… been inside you?"

Aenelys shook her head, "he does not want to," she sadly said. "He says a princess shall always wait for marriage."

"Is he planning to wed you?" Henela curiously asked.

"Yes," she nodded excitedly, "Though I'm not quite sure when, but I know we will get married someday…" Henela felt a tingle of pity on her chest after seeing her dreamy eyes and knowing the truth about Maegor. "He gave me this necklace when I was sixteen," Aenelys said as she grabbed the pendant hanging around her neck, "I think he gave it to me as a promise…"

"Pardon me for my intrusion, my princess, but is he not already married?" Henela asked.

Aenelys smile trembled a little and she shook her head, as if she was trying to downplay the situation she was in.

"Oh, yes, but here we're free, and we can get married even if he's married in Westeros, can we not?" she shrugged, still with a soft smile on her face that was so hard to watch for her maid. "Besides, Ceryse does not love him, not like I do. He deserves a good wife, someone who can give him what he wants."

"What does he want?"

"A child!" Aenelys excitedly said.

"Oh…" she simply said.

"How lovely would it be to be carrying his child," Aenelys murmured, standing in front of the mirror and placing her hand on her belly. "But firstly, I need to know how to properly please him. Is there any advice?"

Henela sighed, "Men usually like it when women take control or seem to be confident in the marital bed," she explained, "for that you need to be on top, riding him."

"Like a horse?"

Her maid giggled softly, "not quite, but the movements are rather the same. Moving your hips in circles or back and forth, it drives them crazy."

"Does it?"

Henela nodded.

"Please, also remember that men like to hear your pleasure, so you have to be loud, but try not to be too obvious about it or they will know you are lying."

"That is a bit confusing," Aenelys giggled. Henela laughed too.

"Men are complicated, my princess, but if there is something that can keep them interested is a good sexual companion… I'm sure Prince Maegor would be rather infatuated once he gets to bed you."

"You think?" Aenelys blushed.

"Definitely, my princess," she nodded. "Sometimes we can get them to do as we please by just opening our legs, they always think with their cocks."

"Henela!" She gasped, laughing at the word she used and slightly blushing. It was not very common for her to hear a lady using that term.

"It is the truth!" Henela giggled, making her sit in a chair in order to brush her hair.

"I think the fact he's waiting for me is the purest act of love," Aenelys murmured, her silly smile and dreamy eyes coming back to enlighten her face. "The fact that he stopped seeing his whores is proof that he actually loves me, right?"

The way the princess smiled made her feel pity again; she could only ask for the truth to be out. She simply nodded, hiding the guilt behind a soft look in her eyes. Henela had a special spot for the princess, and she was not going to be the one telling Maegor's little secret and eventually breaking her heart.

A few hours later she was walking towards the dining room to break her fast. A freshened look on her face as she had taken a hot bath and had her braids done by Henela, leaving any trace of sadness behind after what had happened inside her room. She kindly smiled at everyone who crossed her path; the princess had known how to win every servant's heart, which is why they would always give her pity glances as she walked - they knew what her beloved uncle did behind her back. No one dared to say a word, everyone was too afraid of the Prince to even think about confessing his lie.

Everyone but Draqos, who was standing in the hall being threatened by a very angry Maegor. Aenelys found them, slowing her pace and quietly approaching the corner to spy. She was able to see her uncle's back and Draqos' face under the sunlight. She frowned, noticing how her loyal guard was visibly mad, his eyes throwing daggers at the man in front of him as they seemed to have a not so friendly conversation.

She was not able to hear clearly, but her heart ached when she heard his last words before he left: "Consider yourself dead if you dare to tell her about this."

Aenelys frowned, her confused expression being plastered in her face as she leaned back in the wall trying to make sense of what Maegor had just said. That is when a hand was pressed on her shoulder, a touch so gently and caring. Draqos looked down at her lilac eyes, and with a single glance he knew that he had heard part of the conversation.

"What did he mean?" she asked softly, trying not to jump into conclusions.

"Princess, you shouldn't have heard that," Draqos sighed, almost looking ashamed.

"But I did," she firmly replied, "what did he mean?" she repeated, her eyes never leaving his as she was forcing him to answer her. "I demand you to tell me what is going on."

The inner struggle was obvious in his eyes as he immediately looked away, unable to resist the temptation to tell her the truth if he was staring at her. Aenelys silently pleaded for an answer.

"He will not hurt you if you decide to speak to me," she told him, softly speaking in an attempt to make him talk. "I will make sure you are safe, I promise."

With that, Draqos was easily convinced. His sweet princess was begging for an answer and he was not going to be the one to deny her of it. He would never deny her anything.

"I'm afraid the prince has been seen occasionally escaping during the nights, and sometimes during the days," he started, his voice somewhat soft as if he was trying to make everything less painful. "He visits the brothels almost every week, seeking companionship in the arms of a courtesan named Tyanna."

Aenelys pressed her lips into a thin line as she took in the heartbreaking news of the not so unexpected treason. Draqos got a bit worried when he did not see sadness in her eyes; he saw anger. Her soft, doe eyes turned into flames as she imagined that woman touching what belonged to her.

"How long has this been going on?" she asked.

Draqos took a deep breath, "it has never stopped, my princess."

She sighed, a shaky sigh that almost broke his heart.

"I need you to promise me something, Ser Draqos," Aenelys softly spoke as she took a step closer and looked up at him. Their closeness would not be well seen if someone walked in, but he was not going to be the one to push her away.

"Anything," he whispered, his deep brown eyes looking at her lilac ones with a devotion she wished to see in Maegor.

"You are my protector, you sworn yourself to me when we first arrived here," she said as she grabbed his hand. "I do not want just your protection. I want your loyalty and sincerity. Do not lie or hide things from me again."

"Princess-"

"Promise me," she demanded.

"I promise you," he answered without missing a beat, not even doubting himself. "My princess, I will always be loyal to you… Until my last breath."

Aenelys nodded, taking in his words and closing her eyes when he leaned to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering there longer than they should have; it brought some sense of peace and calmness. The princess muttered a small 'thank you', before she took a step back and looked at the floor, as if she was avoiding his stare. She excused herself before her expression hardened again and she walked away from him.

With a single glance to her determined steps, he knew where she was walking to, so he walked behind her just to make sure she would be safe.

Aenelys reached for the door and pushed it open, hard enough to disrupt the calm environment that had been established in the dining room. Maegor frowned as he looked at her, the sign of dried tears in her rosy cheeks immediately worked as a warning that something was not right, and the realization hit when Draqos stood behind her.

"Leave," she ordered to all the servants that were staring at her with curious eyes. Everyone left, except for Draqos. "You too," she told him.

"Princess-"

"Go," she interrupted him. Draqos doubted for a second, staying still while giving quick glances to Maegor; he did not trust him. However, he eventually turned around, reluctantly leaving the room.

Aenelys saw Maegor leaning back in the chair; his legs spreaded, his jaw moving as he was eating while a small grin appeared on his face. She knew he was going to tease her, a daring provocation in order to make her explode; she tried not to get caught up in that, but her feelings were all over the place, her heart was beating too fast and the ache in her chest did not seem to cease.

"You lied to me," she murmured, trying to make her voice not break.

"Did I?"

"You did!"

"Ah…" he scoffed, drinking from his tea as if she was not falling apart in front of him. "When did I lie to you, darling?"

"You are fucking a whore, Maegor," she mumbled, wiping a rebel tear as she looked to the floor. A small tsk was heard from his side.

"Well, that's the thing, little one." He stood up, and he slowly started to approach her. "I do not remember telling you I'd stopped fucking whores. It is not a lie if I never said it, is it? You just assumed it."

There was a silence where Maegor reached for her face, cupping her cheek with his hand as his thumb wiped the tears away. It was a gesture so delicate and soft that it almost made her sigh; her eyes closed, her lips parted slightly, and her heart skipped a beat. It brought some calmness to the turmoil of feelings inside her chest. His softness, that was hardly ever shown, made her almost melt into his touch once again, but then his own voice made her wake up from the trance he had put her in.

"Who told you?"

That mere question brought her back to reality. She thought about how many people knew about it for him to ask such thing. She thought about how ridiculous she must have been seen by the servants that already knew about it, for she would never hide her undying loyalty and devotion to him.

She pushed his hand away from her, taking a step back as the anger consumed her once again.

"No one did!" she replied, raising her voice. "You really think I was never going to find out about this?"

"My sweet doe," he softly spoke, trying to calm her down. "You need to understand that a man has needs-"

"I'm the one who should be satisfying your needs!" She yelled. "I'll be your wife, I will marry you, not her!" She spat the last words with utter disgust.

He took a deep breath, slowly starting to lose his patience.

"I know that very well," he whispered, taking a step closer. "But there are different kinds of pleasure that you cannot provide me with. You know that."

"I do not care!" She yelled again, this time pushing him away. Maegor was taken by surprise, and he almost lost his balance. Pure shock on his eyes as he saw her unexpected outburst. "I can be all that for you if you only give me the chance!" She whined. "I'm right here, uncle! I'm yours, and I will always be yours. Why can you not understand?!"

His anger was immediately shown as he unexpectedly wrapped his hand around her jaw, digging his fingers into her flesh - strong enough to make her stay still. Her eyes widened in surprise, a slight panic running through her eyes as she saw the rage written all over his face. She whined, now out of pain.

"You cannot understand simple things, can you?" He muttered so close to her face that she was able to feel his hot breath against her lips. "Is your brain so small that it cannot comprehend anything? You think I haven't fucked you because I do not wish for it?" He scoffed. "Oh, you silly little thing. I could spread your legs and bury my cock on that needy cunt of yours right here if that is what I want, but I won't; because I'm smart, and I'm patient, you know why? Because I could easily fuck a bastard into you." Those last words were spat with rage, the kind of feeling he had never felt with her up to this point.

He was wondering how she could not understand what he had been explaining to her for months. Her obliviousness to certain things made him furious.

"Is that what you want?" He continued, tightening his grip. "A bastard is a weapon against maidens as you, something they can use to steal your rightful position in the throne, is that what you want? People calling you the whore princess because you opened your legs to someone who's not your husband? Don't act stupid, I know you are more clever than that."

He let her go, and she stumbled backwards as she touched her jaw trying to soothe the tingling pain that was left there. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down as he stared at her teary eyes. Maegor then approached her again, two of his fingers lifting her chin forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Listen to me, my love," his tone changed, returning to be the soft and gentle one he would always use with her. "You want to feel me inside that tight cunny of yours? You want me to breed you until your womb is filled with my seed? That is fine, and you'll have all of that…" he made a pause, appreciating the red on her cheeks produced by his words. "But for that you'll have to wait until we marry. Is that clear for you?"

She nodded, reluctantly.

"Answer me," he demanded.

"Yes…" she replied in a thin voice, and he smiled pleasantly.

"That's a good girl," he muttered before he leaned and left a soft kiss on her forehead. A chill ran down her back, a sense of uneasiness settled in her chest. She remembered Draqos giving her the same gesture, and causing the complete opposite emotion. "Now… this is the last time I will bear one of these tantrums, do you hear me? I will not forgive you again."

She was about to answer, but the door was suddenly open and Draqos walked in. He noticed the marks on her jawline, he saw the tears in her eyes and the way she looked away from him, avoiding any eye contact. He clenched his jaw as he bowed in front of them, wanting nothing to scream at Maegor for hurting such a delicate maiden like her.

He hid his rage towards the prince as a serious semblance was drawn in his face, clearing his throat before he made his announcement.

"Prince, Princess… The Dowager Queen is here," he informed.

Aenelys looked up at Maegor, trying to find the same surprise on his face, but he remained nonchalant to the words of the knight, almost as if he was expecting his mother to arrive.

Before Aenelys could express her confusion, Visenya entered the dining room, dressed with her riding attire and wearing an unreadable expression on her stern visage. The princess noticed how her eyes scanned her body, her expression slightly changing when she noticed the marks on her neck, but returning to be a hard look when she paid further attention to the marks that were left by her son's tight grip.

"Mother," Maegor greeted her, bowing before her and grabbing her hand to kiss the back of it. "What brings you here?"

"I'm afraid I've come all this way to inform you both of something not very pleasant," she started, her voice low and almost lacking any emotion. Visenya turned to look at Aenelys and she sighed as she grabbed her hands; it was at that moment that the princess felt her heart skip a beat. "Is your father, princess," Visenya sighed.

"My father?" She asked with slight confusion.

Visenya looked at her son before looking back at the girl in front of her.

"The King unexpectedly died last night in Dragonstone."

She felt the tears clouding her eyes, her nose itching and that agonizing feeling on her chest. She covered her lips with her hand as a sign of shock and disbelief, feeling as if the world had fallen on her shoulders and the weight of guilt was pressing against her chest, causing her to breathe rapidly and unevenly. Aenelys looked at Maegor, whose face was lacking any surprise - she was too shocked to recognize the mischievous glint on his devilish eyes.

"How… How did it happen?" she managed to speak between deep breaths and sobs.

"The war weakened him," she explained. Aenelys was taken aback by this new information.

Information that Maegor already knew and decided to hide from her.

"What war?" Aenelys asked again.

"The war with the Faith Militant," she explained, "The High Septon took your disappearance as an offense, for his niece is Maegor's legitimate wife. People in King's Landing are accusing your father of promoting this relationship between you both, and they raised against his reign."

Her dress suddenly felt tighter, the difficulty to breath making her gasp as the tears fell down her cheeks. Her eyes looked at Draqos, the despair and desperation was clearly visible in her face. He took a step forward, but Maegor grabbed her first. The princess buried her face on his chest while his hand went to her hair, cooing against her ear while she uncontrollably sobbed, soaking his shirt with her tears.

Suddenly, the entire discussion with Maegor was easily forgotten, for the pain in her heart was bigger and almost unbearable. The guilt making it impossible for her to calm down.

"Your mother and siblings are waiting for you in Dragonstone for the funeral," Visenya informed her, "King's Landing and the Iron Throne are now empty…"

Aenelys thought it was quite odd the way she pronounced those kasts words, but her mind was too blurry to even try to process them. Maegor, however, found himself understanding the message between the lines, and he held her close to his chest and gave a soft nod to his mother. Things had never been clearer.

It was time for him to take what was rightfully his, claim his position as King of the Seven Kingdoms, and make Aenelys his queen.

Everything went exactly how he wanted.

BOLD MEANS I COULDN'T TAG YOU.

GENERAL TAG LIST — @borikenlove @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @gothtargaryen @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jamespotterismydaddy @padfooteyes

SINNERS TAG LIST — @hypocritic-trash-baby @misspendragonsworld @hangmanscoming @caramelcandescence @cold-v0dka @bellstwd @angeliod @uniquecroissant @winxschester @mrswhitethornbelikov @amygdtjhddzvb @vixemi @beebeechaos

#sinners #house of the dragon #maegor targaryen x oc #maegor targaryen fanfic #maegor i #maegor targaryen #maegor the cruel #maegor i targaryen #maegor i targaryen x oc #fire and blood fanfic #fire and blood #house of the dragons #house targaryen #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd x oc

271 notes · View notes

be-my-ally · 4 months

Text

Snowballs and Kisses

Hello darlings!! Merry Christmas! I hope everyone celebrating has a wonderful day, and everyone for whom it is a usual monday has a better than usual start to the week!!

I have been MIA the last few weeks on here, but never fear I have been busy behind the scenes and hopefully more things and fics will be finished very soon!! I cannot wait for my little new year break, and *finally* catching up on all the stuff I've missed!! In the meantime as a ittle teeny tiny Christmas gift please enjoy this timeskip for my Splashing Around ‘verse to Christmas Eve 1960 and my shameless OC self insert of what I’d like to gift Elvis.

a/n not totally accurate weather references: it didn’t actually snow in memphis in the latter half of 1959 but, this is fanfiction after all and it *was* very cold november 18th 1959. (I also cut a whole 4k of angst that will come out at some point as a separate chapter, Anita getting a poodle, and the colonel dressed as santa because honestly i just wanted to write and read fluff, but here's a warning that there may end up being more festive fics posted…a little late).

warnings: 18+, smut lite; gentle fingering and references to cumming in pants. UNEDITED

Graceland - December 1960

The excitement of having Elvis back at home for the festive season was only slightly tempered by the knowledge that it was his first Christmas at home without his mother. He’d not really tried to celebrate properly in Germany; sure they’d done the best they could, and he raved about the gift of a fully dressed tree for weeks, but it hadn’t been the same as it would have been at home.

This year though, Elvis seemed determined to restore the festive spirit. Perhaps even further than just restoration - an attempt to make it as bright and jolly as possible in response to both his mother’s passing, and missing the last two. He’d bragged to anyone who would listen about how excited he was to give out presents, his plans for even more lights than ever before; signs and lawn decorations.

While Louise was excited, it had left her in an almost constant state of anxiety, Christmas wasn’t just about the gift-giving… but it was a large enough part of it that it’s where her mind immediately went. From the moment he suggested they hang at Graceland that first year, from the first time they’d all pored over the letter to Frances, and his promises to “have a ball next Christmas”, giggling and whispering about what fun they were going to have the following year. From all of those times Louise had been preoccupied with what to get him and whether her secret plan was good enough for Elvis of all people.

That first year he had reiterated to them all and was absolutely adamant no-one needed to gift him anything and wouldn’t hear of anything being sent over to him. But his frequent calls and mentions of the upcoming holiday belied his actual feelings and besides, Louise wanted him to feel special. Wanted him to know they’d been thinking of him as much as he must have missed being home. It wasn’t until the 27th of November and the slightest of snowfalls had occurred, tiny little snowflakes, delicately falling down when the temperature had dropped just enough for the rain to crystallise when a flash of inspiration hit her. She couldn’t send it, so instead she’d waited patiently, adding to her bundle throughout the months. Now that it was almost time to give it though she was second-guessing that two year decision. Was it too juvenile? It’s just so tricky to buy for the man who literally has anything he could ever wish for. As the festive period hurtles on she resigns herself to having to hunt for a back-up gift…maybe a nice sweater. Maybe that will do. Or maybe it’s best to have options.

Elvis’ melancholia about the holiday doesn’t seem to stretch into Christmas Eve, and he encourages them with all the enthusiasm he’s ever had. The party starts from mid-afternoon and stretches long into the evening and night with all the makings of an excellent time from the music to the food until eventually they all find themselves around the extravagant tree to exchange presents. It’s a little chaotic, so many people about and frequently someone’s having to dive from room to room to fetch people or hidden gifts. Louise finds it almost dizzying when she finally manages to take a seat on the long sofa, catching her breath from being sent to find someone. She was already finding herself struggling to think whenever she glanced over at Elvis - he looked outrageously good in a white shirt, black trousers - well, he looked outrageously good all the time at the moment - but there was something about the feeling in the air of the day that made it all the harder to act natural around him. Elvis had been quiet for a moment, but now he was sat on his armchair across the room, looking for all the world like a king on a throne ready to bestow his generosity on the peasants. Except, that’s not the feeling in the room at all; it’s jolly and wonderful, picture perfect - all of them slightly tipsy on champagne and vodka cocktails and finding the evening all the more entertaining for it. He announces he wants to give the presents that he’s bought everyone before he opens his own, and Louise dips her eyes when he hands her a little bow-tied box. No-one else’s comes with a ribbon and she strokes it, feeling a glow emanating from her stomach and chest as she imagines his nimble fingers tying it on, totally ignoring the fact that she knows someone else probably wrapped it for him. Still, she tugs it off to hide from the others - not wanting to be teased about how such a little gesture has made her blush so strongly - and tucks it into her palm, fully intending on slipping it into her shoe or around her wrist in a moment, knowing she’ll keep it forever - wear it in her hair like a declaration.

When she looks back up everyone has a similar box and she opens it quickly in case they’re all the same - she doesn’t want to ruin her surprise. There, nestled in a little velvet box is a ring, a huge, gaudy red stone in the centre, almost too big for her finger. Louise is transfixed, staring at it, barely a thought in her head as she tries to wrap her head around the way it sparkles in the light. Despite the size of the gem, the band was more than a little small when she tries to slip it on, and she quietly puts it back into the box, not wanting to draw attention to her apparently larger than expected fingers. She glances around, suddenly coming out of her shocked obliviousness. Her face falling when she realises that everyone around her is unboxing similarly precious jewellery. She’s resigning herself to having to sneak it off to get it resized and hating herself a little for it, wondering if there are exercises she could do or maybe a special diet to shrink her fingers to size, when she suddenly realises all the other girls are turning each-other around, kissing Elvis on the cheek in thanks, or asking him to clasp their new necklaces. Louise looks back down at her box and the others. What does a ring mean? It’s been gifted with such casualness that it can’t possibly mean anything can it? When she looks back up Elvis is staring right at her, and she makes eye contact with him - her wide eyes meeting his laughing ones. He winks, and turns back to Red. She tries her best to distract herself from it, ooh and aahing over everyone else’s and keeping quiet about the little box clutched tight in her hand.

Half hour later Elvis is admiring his own little haul, when he catches her eye again,

“You forget about me Lou?” Louise cringes at being called out so publicly,

“Of course not!” She looks around the room, at the large group gathered there, “No, uh, why don’t you, well I’ve gotten you something else….It’s a sweater. It’s not great really, but I… your real gift I’ve made you, but,” She swallows building her courage, unsure why she’s so nervous suddenly when she’d been so excited for so long; the whole idea just seemed juvenile and silly now. “… you’ve gotta follow me for it.” He stares into her eyes for a second, before nodding and standing up, gesturing at her as if to say ‘lead the way’.

He grins at the boys when they walk out, making a salacious movement as if to suggest her gift may not be all too family-friendly to accompanying guffaws of laughter. She ignores it, even as her tummy churns; should she be offering that? Is that what he wants these days?

“Don’t laugh.” She asks nervously as they walk into the little pantry. Elvis looks bemused to find himself there, leaning against the wall of the tiny space

“I won’t” Louise nods, shutting the door, only to hear Elvis giggle, “You tryin’ to get me alone, doll?”

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“One hell of a christmas present! to be locked in a cupboard with a pretty little gal.”

She rolls her eyes, wiggling past him to get to the freezer,

“Close your eyes.” He obediently does so, and she reaches into an old box of ice-cream to pull out a Tupperware, “Hold your hands out.” And she puts it in his cupped fingers, “Ok…open.” He blinks down at the Tupperware.

“Um. Well, thanks, I’m uh, sure this will be useful.” Louise rolls her eyes, impatiently tugging off the lid herself, “Oh.” Elvis goes silent, staring at the three perfect, teeny snowballs balanced in the tub. Each resting upon a little piece of paper with Louise’s very best cursive handwriting spelling out the date; December 12th 1958, 18th November 1959, and 20th December 1960.

The silence stretches as Elvis stares at the box, and Louise starts to ramble nervously, “I was starting to panic this year, but at least I’d thought to pick some up back in January — it snowed so heavy on the 5th. I think it was, or maybe the 15th? I’ll have to check my diary… so I mean it isn’t entirely accurate that it’s all from the 20th - but I mean, I had to have something and well I know how much you loved it when, when your mother… and I wanted you to know I’ve been thinkin’ of you non-stop while you were away. So, here, the first snow from the garden from every year you missed.” Elvis is still staring at the box, one finger poking each little round ball.

“This really snow from two years ago?”

“Uh-huh… I mean I don’t know what you’re gonna do with it now, but it really is… been in that box in the freezer this whole time…I hid it from everyone. Every time someone said they wanted some ice cream I panicked.”

“Lou.”

“‘M sorry this is really stupid, god - what are you gonna do with some snowballs, I should’ve gone in with the other girls, got you something really good… I just - well, I thought you’d like it and I know you misse-”

“Baby, I don’t, I don’t know what to say. I… I didn’t think anyone would think of me like this, like mama did, ever again. I - well, thank you, Lou darling, this is, well, its the best damn gift I’ve ever gotten.” He grabs her arm, tugging her to him - pressing a hard kiss to her forehead, the force of it surprising her. “I’m gonna show everyone - c’mon - quick before they melt.” He runs out of the kitchen, leaving Louise to follow meekly behind.

He shows them off like he’s a new father, proudly holding them up in the box, delicately picking one of them up and sighing at it, holding it up at the light for everyone to marvel at. It’s a little ridiculous in some ways - everyone in the room had been gifted something hugely lavish, and yet the thing everyone was talking and gossiping at was a snowball.

Hours later the party finally winds down enough that Louise realises she’s one of the last few stragglers of a night so late it’s turned into Christmas morning. How she’d ended up in this position she’ll never know, and she questions it herself as she stands quietly in the doorway, watching Elvis fumble on the piano. Just his fiddling is beautiful, little snippets of remembered carols, before he hammers onto the keys, singing along to Santa Claus is Back in Town. Louise can’t help the breathy gasp that escapes her and he looks up at her, smiling almost teasingly, perfect glint in his eye as he pauses for a second to run a hand through his hair before he continues for another verse and a half. He stops almost abruptly, standing up to stretch before turning to her. She’s trying to find the words to explain how beautiful it was, how perfect he sounds - how she can feel it throughout her whole being, but before she can express those sentiments he’s in front of her and grasping her hand.

“C’mon,” He tugs her over to the armchair he’d been sat in earlier in the evening, “Over here hon, that’s it - you’re the last.” Elvis throws himself onto the chair, holding onto her, pulling her stumbling body against his. “You’re the last of my girls left…” He sighs melodramatically and Louise giggles uncontrollably back at him. She’d had an illicit two glasses and a half of champagne earlier in the evening; Elvis had playfully wagged his finger at her as she’d accepted it from Red although she’d seen him have more than a few drinks himself. She can feel the bubbles still settling into her tummy and head, fuzzing her thoughts a little and making her giggly and affectionate. Still, she wasn’t so tipsy she couldn’t call out his overdramatic behaviour.

“They’ve just gone home for the night. They’ll be back tomorrow I’m sure.” She shakes her head. He ignores her, crying out,

“I’m all alone!” He tugs her by her elbow, catching her as she stumbles into his lap, pulling her onto him, flattening her wide skirt. It wasn’t really the fashion anymore but while she’d been momentarily hesitant about her holiday dress she wasn’t self-conscious, and she liked how it made her shape look. Some might suggest the bow and petticoats were juvenile, but it made her feel more adult than the tighter styles that were starting to become popular with her peers, more herself than playing dress-up.

She snuggles under his arm, head pillowed on his chest, cheeks pressed against the little buttons of his shirt. He pretends to choke at her hair brushing his nose, using his free hand to flatten it under his chin and she grins, shivering against him as his breath tickles her skin. They stay cuddled for a few moments, sinking into the kind of happy exhaustion that seems to only occur on holidays. It feels different than before, although Elvis is more similarly carefree than she’d seen him in a long time. He’d grown up a lot over the years she hadn’t seen him, or so it felt, and his adultness didn’t match the image of him playing and fooling around that she had in her head. It’s an awful feeling, she thinks, that even with him right there, surrounding her, she still longs for a little more of the playfulness of the past.

Suddenly though Elvis shifts, interrupting her thoughts and murmuring against the top of her head,

“Y’hear that?” Louise stops breathing, and all she can hear is the solid thump-thump of his heart against her ear, he waits a second but she can’t work out what he’s referring to and doesn’t respond, he gasps “There it is again! Do you hear it?”

Louise shakes her head against him, frowning a little, “No?” She tries really hard to listen out, but other than the faintest hint of the music from the boys in the other room she can’t hear a thing. “The music?”

“No! No, listen.” He puts his finger to his lips, shushing her,

“I really don’t hear anything Elvis.” He wraps his arm around her waist a little tighter, tugging her up so she was sat more upright on his knee, her face close to his. He whispers into her ear,

“I think I hear hooves…” Louise frowns,

“Hooves!?” God, it would be just her luck that he’d gone and bought her a horse or something, and she’d have to act grateful even though she was terrified of them.

“Mmhmm, that’s right.” His hand rises up to brush across her back gently, fingertips dancing around her side, “Hooves. Hooves and bells.” He pauses for dramatic effect, jabbing his finger into her side in a tickling poke. His voice dips lower, as his arm squeezes around her, “Someone must have been a good girl this year.”

Louise grins when she realises what he’s implying and couldn’t bring herself not to play along.

“…You think it’s Santa Claus?!”

“Hmm, definitely…who else would it be, on the roof with hooves and bells on Christmas eve?” She giggles, both in response to his kind-natured teasing and his fingers poking her side with an exaggerated motion.

“Oh, I wonder what he’ll leave in my stocking…” Elvis hums against her hair,

“Mmm. Coal.”

“Nooo!” She giggles back to him, “You just said I’ve been a good girl!”

“You’ve been a very good little girl.” His voice has hit that low pitch that immediately sends a jolt down her spine, right into the pit of her stomach and she swallows, trying to keep up with the joke.

“Well, I’m, uh, I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is.”

“Mmhmm….” His hand brushes up her leg, “Bet ya I’ll like what’s in your stockings more…”

“Elvis!” She shrieks, playfully batting his hand away, he pulls it off of her, smoothing down her skirt, and resting it onto her lap for a moment. Louise feels her breath catching as he presses a kiss to the side of her head, brushing her hair out of the way and shifting her on his thigh so that she’s facing him. It’s almost a struggle for her to meet his eyes, she felt so desperate for his attention - but there was nowhere else to look that made her feel any less heated. His hair, god even his eyebrows were Elvis-enough to make her squirm. It’s only a second of him kissing her jaw, before she’s gasping for him, and before she knows what she’s doing she’s grabbing his hand and shoving it back on her thigh.

She’d kept herself for him, even as it felt that she’d been playing before, doing it for someone who would never notice or care - ostensibly in general, but really if she was truthful - for him. She’d touched herself, hadn’t been able to resist the temptation, especially after his deep voice came through the phone - but the other boys, the boys in school, the ones with blue collar jobs and careers, had all lost their appeal whenever she imagined kissing them, and her imagination interposed the image and feeling of him, his slippery body in the pool, the feel of him in front of her on the bike. He was thinner now, even still, than he was before, puppy fat replaced with lean muscles. His face shape changed just the tiniest bit, perhaps unnoticeable to some, but so very obvious to her, cheekbones and chin more angular than before. But his lips feel the same as they did before he left, and since his return home - she’d expected they’d have lost their eager nature, but still she can feel the hint of desperation as he presses them against her jaw.

She gasps, rocking against him as he roves down her neck - a place no one else has ever touched, tiny points of pressure feeling like a heat was expanding across her neck and chest, matching the clench of her thighs. His hand gently strokes up her stockings before he hitches her up, capturing his mouth with hers and shoving her underlayers up to her waist in the abrupt movement. Louise moves with him, desperate to stay in contact with his lips and she moans in upset when he starts to pull away.

“C’mon baby,” He whispers, “C’mon, Lou-Lou let me - let me say thank you,” He’s barely audible as he speaks against her lips between pressing bruising kisses onto them, “I just - wanna, wanna make you feel good, Lou doll.” She gasps out her agreement, eyes falling closed and her head falling into his shoulder as his fingers find their way to rub against the silk of her underwear. He shifts her again, balancing her so she can rock against his thigh and his hand, whilst also rubbing her leg against his covered crotch. Louise is almost surprised at the heat of him against her thigh, but her curiosity has no chance to be satisfied when he hooks a finger under the leg band of her panties, totally distracting her from anything but the feel of him under her and attempting to stay somewhat upright. His finger feels softer than she’d imagined, and yet, in comparison to her own the pads feel foreign, rougher and surer than hers ever were sliding into the wetness they find there.

“God, you’re so soft baby, so fucking soft in here, perfect for me, you been waiting on me, honey?”

“Uh-huh, waited, waited so long for you Elvis - didn’t, I didn’t want anyone but you.” He groans in response, his fingers moving faster. Until he’s forced to stop, tangled in the fabric and he growls in frustration. Louise feels it go straight down her body, and her thighs clench, trapping his hand even more. He pauses for barely a second to manhandle her up, just enough to roughly tug her panties down enough that it’s now entirely her bare skin rubbing against his hand and clothed thigh, the fibres of his trousers almost giving her a friction burn with her rapid movements. He continues as he was a second earlier, but now with far easier access he’s able to swipe his fingers across her clit, taking her to the edge almost immediately. She has no idea if this was something he’s always done well, or if this is a trick he’d picked up while he was away, but whatever the reason she was grateful. She doesn’t even consider how they were still, essentially, in public, too distracted by his slender fingers to be concerned about her now partial nudity. The only noise to break up their combined breathy moans is the layers of of taffeta rustling between them, as she continues to rock against his thigh, but this all changes when he delves his thumb into her wetness, bringing it back up to stroke circles on her clit, gently but repeatedly running it over her.

“Oh, Elvis?” She cries out,

“What baby? You’re so - I can feel you’re close,” His own breathing is getting heavier, and he holds her steady with his other hand grasping her thigh while his thumb continues to stroke her,

“I don’t - I don’t…” She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say, and before she manages to turn it into a complete sentence she’s shaking on him as she rides out her orgasm. He sees her through it, continuing to stroke her with the same pressure before rapidly shoving his hand down his own pants, roughly rubbing himself off to quick completion. She watches him closely, unable to do anything but stare as his own eyes slide closed, head falling back against the couch and mouth opening as he gasps out a high-pitched moan. It was about enough to make her shudder again against his thigh, the look on his face, his mussed hair, open collar and the noises of sheer pleasure. Louise finds herself bouncing on his chest as he breathes rapidly from the effort, and he holds her tight for a few moments while they both regain use of their limbs. Louise feels almost a little shell-shocked and she only really comes to her senses when Elvis shifts, wiping his hand on his trousers with a grimace and patting her thigh,

“Gosh that was, I, um, thank you El,” He grins at her, clearly pleased with his success, and he pats her leg again,

“Thank you, honey, for just about the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me earlier baby, it was just - I’m gonna treasure them snowballs forever, you’ll see.” She grins back at him before an unstoppable yawn takes over her face, “C’mon lil girl, time for bed.” She gulps, thinking about all the people on the house - worrying what will happen next,

“D’you…where am I gonna sleep?” Elvis frowns, little furrowed line marring his previously relaxed face,

“With me?”

“Oh,” Louise swallows, “Um, I think my parents will be expecting me - you know, Christmas morning’s all about -“

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll drop you home at the crack of dawn,” He winks, “-gotta make sure the house is all in order in any case anyway.” Elvis pauses, “Or, or you could invite your mama and pops over. They’d be more than welcome…nothing my mama liked more than a full house - especially at Christmas.” He’s looking at her with that earnest little boy expression again and it takes everything in her not to just suggest she should stay forever, it was so absurd that he’d want her to stay, instead of the other way around.

“Well…maybe I could stay. And, well, I mean, I could come over in the evening? If you swear you’ll make sure I get home in time -“ He’s quick to interject,

“Cross my heart darling,” She hums at him, and he motions the crossing of his heart across his chest, solemnly holding eye contact, “I swear.”

“Ok then, I’d love to stay.”

Somehow, and (despite his promises) to Louise’s surprise, she’s dutifully shaken awake and dropped off home, albeit not by Elvis himself, only a few very short hours later. Coming up the driveway of her childhood home it feels almost inconceivable that she should have spent the day and night how she has, and she wonders for a brief moment if she hadn’t knocked her head or something and just hallucinated the whole affair. She’s so in her thoughts that she doesn’t yet notice, as she traipses past the lounge and kitchen where she can hear her mother singing to quickly change, a new set of boxes under the Christmas tree. Elvis’ script on the gift tags declaring “To Louise, a very good girl, from Santa.”

taglist: (it's been so long that I've lost the list for this verse - lmk if you want to be added, or taken off!)

@lialocklear @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @thatbanditquee @lookingforrainbows @whositmcwhatsit @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @peskybedtime @powerofelvis @dkayfixates @shakerattlescroll

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #be-my-ally #splashing around #elvis x louise

116 notes · View notes

bambinella · 7 months

Text

Day 2 - Chase

MCU - Kate x Yelena

A/N: Been a while since I wrote for them, and I got this request a while ago, so I decided to combine it! Enjoy!

What Kate had intended to be a good day had turned out to be a nightmare so far. It had been one of her free days, and she had decided on spending it in the giant mall nearby, for the biggest part at least. She wanted to go shopping and see what else was nearby. Alas, things had not gone as planned. Some of the stores she had planned to go to were closed for whatever reason, a kid had run up against her with his milkshake and had ruined her favorite pants for the day. And worst of all? When she went to get ice cream to try and forget all the above, a seagull had gone and stolen it from her hand! What was a seagull doing in the city to begin with?? Those sea pigeons should stay at the sea where they belong.

So to say the least, she was in a pretty bad mood on her way home to her apartment. The one thing she could look forward to was cuddling on the couch with Lucky. However, when she approached the front door, she could see light coming from inside. She was pretty damn sure she had turned off all the lights, and since she had gone shopping she didn’t have her bow with her. Perfect. Grabbing the small pocket knife in one hand, she carefully opened the front door to peek inside. What she saw wasn’t what she had expected, and with a groan she fully opened the door.

“Yelena! You can’t keep breaking in just like that! I could have killed you!” Kate declared as she walked inside, looking at the blonde assassin sitting on her couch while cuddling with Lucky. Traitor. Yelena let out a loud laugh at that statement, as if she had said the funniest thing in the world.

“Oh Kate Bishop, you’re still as hilarious as last time it seems, please keep it up. And relax, I made a copy of your key the last time I broke in, so technically I didn’t ‘break in’ this time. I’m far too skilled for that,” She said casually, leaving the archer stunned for a moment. How many times had she broken in so far??

“Ugh, fine whatever, why are you here?” Kate relented, putting her things away in the meantime. She knew there was no way to kick Yelena out just like that.

“Because I’m bored, duh, so you need to entertain me,” The blonde said with a shrug, giving the archer a once-over. She looked… not great.

“Yelena, I just came home from the worst day in a long time, so I don’t feel like entertaining you,” Kate said with a defeated groan, trying to clean the dark, sticky spot from her pants with a wet rag.

“Yeah you look pretty terrible, what happened to you?” She asked, failing to hide the smile in her voice. Kate glared at her.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Yelena. I’m tired and I just want to sit down for a while, so if you’re going to stay, at least scoot over,” She said, making her way over to the small couch that was being held hostage. The assassin huffed.

“That’s so rude, I claimed your couch first,” Yelena declared, her stubborn side showing up. This didn’t stop Kate from sitting down way too close next to her.

“Scoot,” She said again, giving Yelena a prod in the ribs to motivate her. What she didn’t expect was the gasp and the jerk she got from it, and judging from the reaction, neither did Yelena, who was rubbing the spot on her side.

“Kate Bishop, what in the hell did you just do to me?” Yelena asked, looking at her with slightly wider eyes. She had been taken off guard by that little poke.

“I… poked you? Wait wait, does that mean you’re ticklish??” Kate declared, the dark clouds around her dissipating slightly. Oh this could be fun.

“What’s ticklish? Kate Bishop, stop speaking in riddles,” Yelena said with an annoyed huff. She did not like the look on Kate’s face. Ignoring the danger and pursuing her curiosity, Kate poked Yelena in the ribs this time, earning another yelp and a painful slap to her wrist. Oh she was definitely ticklish.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it, this is amazing!” Kate said with a wide grin, mischief slowly taking over as she looked at the blonde, who stared back uneasily.

“Did you hit your head while I was looking away or something? You better stop bein– hey! W-what do you think you’re dohohoing?!” Said blonde cried out as Kate suddenly grabbed her sides, a weird feeling spreading through her body. It made her want to laugh.

“I’m tickling you, duh,” Kate chuckled, now actually grateful Yelena had decided to break in. She was already less tired and grumpy than five minutes ago. She gently dug into the assassin’s ribs, and relished in the girlish squeal it got her.

“Kahahahate Bishop! Stohohop! I hahahate this! Let gohohoho!” Yelena laughed, and Kate could squeal. Who knew Yelena was this cute?? However, during her struggles to push Kate’s arms away, she managed to grab hold on one of her sides, causing her to laugh and jerk her arm back to protect her side.

“Dohohohon’t!” She giggled, before freezing as she looked at Yelena. It took the blonde only a second to put two and two together, and she smirked dangerously at the archer while catching her breath.

“Well well. I should kill you for touching me in the first place, but it seems you’re ‘ticklish’ too. So I think I’m gonna torture you with that,” She said. Kate looked at her with wide eyes yet didn’t hesitate a second as she jumped up from the couch, making her way towards literally anywhere far away from Yelena. Unfortunately for her, Yelena had the same idea and dashed after her.

“You’ll never catch me alive!” Kate cried out, nearly giggling in anticipation, only to get tackled to the floor mere seconds later. Okay so that statement was a lie. Yelena cackled as she sat down on Kate’s lower back.

“Kate Bishop, you should not have done that to me. Now prepare to die,” She said, digging her fingers rather roughly into the brunette’s sides. While having no real idea how to tickle, she was still doing a pretty good job.

“YEHEHelehehenahaha! Stohohohop! I’m sohohohorry!” She giggled madly, clawing at the floor to escape from the nails.

“Oh it’s too late for sorry now, Kate Bishop,” Yelena smirked as she crawled her fingers up onto her ribs. The brunette shrieked and tried to push herself up, only to find out that her arms had turned to goo from giggling so much.

“Plehehehease!! I’ll nehehever do it agaahahahain! NO! NOHOHHOO WAHAHAHAIT!” Yelena, of course, had ignored her plea and had moved her hands into Kate’s underarms, causing her to slam her arms to her sides as she rolled around with the limited movement she had. Yelena cackled at the sight.

“Damn right you won’t. You’re not even close to sorry yet,” She warned, yet it had a playful undertone. Still, Kate was at the mercy of the assassin now, who didn’t know mercy.

Legend says Kate is still laughing.

#tk community #tickle fanfic #tickling #tickletober 2023 #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova #Yelena x Kate #tickle fic

43 notes · View notes

addictedtostorytelling · 4 months

Note

Okay…that may just be one of my favorite chapters of “An Opposite of Echoes” to date - the sweet conversation between Sara & Grissom in the car, Sara’s conversation with Greg, and poor Grissom - I forgot he had the budget report to do too.

But now I’m suddenly becoming very aware that this series is just getting started as Sara mentions when her next therapy appointment is & when the ultrasound is (and the ever present hint about twins…in my mind I’ve already decided - she’s having twins).

I know you’re a busy person, but tell me that next installment in the Accidents universe isn’t going to be a year away once this story wraps to…please?

hi, @chelsshearman!

aw, shucks! i'm glad you enjoyed this week's installment so much! after putting sara through the ringer in the previous chapter, i thought it would only be fair to give her some quality time with her boys so she could recuperate a bit in this one.

though grissom definitely doesn't get the same kind of reprieve, poor guy! 😂

i'm happy to know you liked reading those conversations. i always have fun getting to "peel back the curtain" and show some of the between-the-action interpersonal moments with the team we so seldom get to see in canon.

it's wild to think there are only three updates left to go before this fic is completely posted—literally just a few more hours' worth of time within the universe of the story!

i will tease: the next chapter contains a couple of my personal favorite scenes, and i'm excited to share them with you and hear your thoughts, if you care to tell them.

as for when you might expect the next installment of the accidentsverse once "an opposite of echoes" wraps up, i honestly can't promise anything in terms of a timeline.

i have three to four more multichapter fics (tentatively) planned to span the rest of the pregnancy and the baby's or babies' birth. the first one would cover the events of christmas and its aftermath (i.e., the next few weeks in the story world immediately after "an opposite of echoes"), including the skype call with betty, sara's therapy appointment, and the 8-week ultrasound. the next one (or two, depending on how i ultimately split things) would cover some major events later in the pregnancy, and the last one would bring us through to the delivery day and the first little while postpartum.

though i know what these stories will cover content-wise, i can't tell you when to expect them.

i am a notoriously slow writer for a variety of reasons both process- and circumstance-related, and i learned long ago that whenever i try to predict when i'll be ready to publish something, i inevitably end up being wrong (and, unfortunately, never in a good "oh! i finished this story much sooner than anticipated!" kind of way).

i do intend to devote myself to "something in you i believe in" for the foreseeable future after "an opposite of echoes," and that fic will be my priority until it's completed, so i'm not likely to publish another big accidentsverse multichapter fic any time soon.

of course, since the accidentsverse is my happy place and still very much where i am currently living in my imagination, i'll say: though i can't state exactly when it might happen, since i always have little scenes and vignettes from this 'verse playing through my mind, there is a good chance i'll end up posting some fill-in-the-gaps-between-the-big-planned-multichapter-fics one-shots sometime before 2024 is out!

i just can't stay away from this geeky little family for long!

anyway, in the meantime, i hope you enjoy the end of the story. thank you so much for reading and for taking the time to share your thoughts and encouragement! 💙

p.s., re: the possibility it's twins: we'll have to see. sara will definitely be holding her breath until that ultrasound, for sure!

#answered #chelsshearman #aoe #csiverse #accidentsverse

4 notes · View notes

probablygayattorneys · 3 months

Note

Azran Legacy anon here. First of all, I want to say I'm very sorry if I ever seemed pushy about the game, I didn't mean to come off that way. I do genuinely hope things are going well for you and life is treating you well.

And second of all, since you finished the game, the one question I've been meaning to ask : what did you think about it? I'm well aware the game has its flaws, so if there's stuff you want to complain about, please do so and don't feel like you have to hold back on my account just because I love the game. Regardless I do hope you at least had fun with it. That's what matters the most I think. Also I've seen you complain about spoilers in the past. Some of these posts seemed more light hearted than serious, but still I hope the spoilers didn't ruin your experience of the game.

Anyways sorry for the long ask!! Surely Someday I'll finally come off anon. In the meantime, take care!!

You were a little pushy, but if we're being honest, I needed the push.

I don't want to get into it too much but last summer was probably the lowest point in my entire life, mental health wise. My dad had a cancer scare (well, he actually had cancer but it was just a mole so they had it removed, and it was basically like stage zero cancer, it was a pretty big nothing burger) and it triggered my bipolar into a depressive episode that was really, really, really bad. I didn't want to do anything, including playing Layton, so when you disappeared it just kind of seemed like nobody cared if I played or not, so I just... stopped, and when I finally started again, I had to get Juliana to hold me accountable.

That said, though, it probably was a good thing that I didn't at least finish the game while I was really down because I really do (did? I'm still working through it) love Emmy, and witnessing her betrayal very well may have been the straw that broke the camel's back and pushed me over the edge. I knew that they had to write her out somehow to explain why she's not in the original trilogy, and my fiancé assured me multiple times that she didn't die (until I kept insisting that she did and making up more and more outlandish standards and he was finally just like 'Okay, yeah, you're right, Emmy was sitting down and farted so hard she rocketed up in the air and was decapitated by a ceiling fan') but to be honest, looking back, I almost wish she had died. Because this means that it was a lie - it was all a lie. Every single choice she made was a conscious decision of that deception, and it was a lot like Phoenix's heel turn in AA4, except it wasn't just one moment and one decision, it was every single one, and she hadn't been honest the whole time. It hurt like a bitch. But the Professor seems to forgive her, so I'm trying to, too.

As for the spoilers - while I did try to mostly keep it lighthearted, I did have some pretty big things spoiled (or semi-spoiled), like Descole's identity or someone did reblog something with a whole paragraph that broke down the whole adoption thing but as soon as I realized it was spoiler-y, I stopped reading it, so really all I got out of it was the name Theodore, and based on context I was able to guess that I was going to learn that the Professor's birth name wasn't Hershel, but the whole family thing, with Bronev being his father and Descole being his brother was all a surprise. Still, I wish there hadn't been any spoilers, because I think I would have really enjoyed the game a lot more if I had been able to learn what the game wanted me to know when it wanted me to know it, because I think I would have enjoyed it more. However, I also accept that the main blame is on me. I'm the one who was playing a game ten years after it was released. You can't call spoilers when you had ten years to play it.

I'm also not sure I'm satisfied with the end. Like if you've been following me for long, you probably know that I love to moralize, and from where I'm standing, Descole was almost as bad, if not equal to, as Bronev, and the fact that Bronev got arrested but Descole gets to fly off into the sunset despite the fact that he kidnapped multiple people and held them hostage for months on end and tried to manipulate someone into destroying an entire town and killing everyone in it in the process? Does he get a pass just because he didn't succeed? Where is the justice? I get that he's supposed to be a tragic character, but if we extend mercy to him, in spite of his wrongdoings, where does it end? Do we also forgive Bronev because while his family wasn't killed, he did still lose them? Do we forgive Clive, because his parents died and that made him sad so he gets to try to destroy all of London? You could argue that Sycamore (and Emmy) both have a bit of redemption in that they're willing to sacrifice their lives to stop the golems, but so was Bronev, so again, we're back to square one.

That's really getting into the weeds, though. So I guess ultimately... It wasn't the worst Layton game, but it wasn't the best either. Part of that is going to come down to the fact that I was just in such a weird place mentally when I played it, but... I had fun, at points, and I'm glad I can now say that I've played the entirety of the Layton series, spinoffs included.

#parker's asks #like idk on a scale of one to ten #i would say it was a solid 7 #there were definitely things i would change #both about the game itself and my specific experience #but it is what it is #pl6 spoilers #al spoilers

0 notes

thranduil-aran-edhil · 1 year

Note

Re: Switchblades & Motorbikes

1) I AM IN ABSOLUTE LOVE WITH THIS FIC.

2) Would it be possible for you to tag all the S&M (hehehe) related posts with a specific tag? I just went through your posts for 30 minutes to find the very first one bc I wanted to take a look at the mug shots for the Diamond Dogs again :) that was fun but exhausting ^^ would really appreciate it ❤️

3) Speaking of the mug shots: who's the little shit whose tyres were stolen? I can't see a young blond boy in the mug shots 🤔 am I blind?

4) The amount of love and care and meticulous references in this fic is off the charts. Cannot stress enough that I am HOOKED and IN LOVE with S&M Milex! (hehe)

5) The tension and hair pulling and just small moments of (incidental) sexual arousal and impact - give me more! 🤌🫰 It's amazing!

6) The dynamic between the AM boys is pure love. Matt as Agile Beast makes me cackled every time.

THANK YOU and pls make this fic as LONG as possible, so I can love every update for a very long time (in the meantime Imma just go back and re-read)! ❤️❤️❤️

OH HEY THERE!!

THANK YOU AGAIN OMG YOU'RE SO SWEET

oh of course! i must have forgotten to tag that very first post, on it!

hehehe Amby is right at the last row, in the middle, the original model isn't blond, i might change him? i'm making a new edit for the next chapter

would you believe me if I told you I only noticed the S&M thing like... not long ago? LOL AND IM SO HAPPY MY REFERENCES ARE BEING SO ENJOYED, AAAAA

there's maaaany many more sexual tension moments, MAYBE EVEN A CHANGE IN RATING IN THE FUTURE

I HAD to make these boys the found family gang they were born to be, love how glued to each other they are in real life, it's so special. And Matt, with that cheesy nickname HAD to be like a street name thing, OF COURSE

thank you again, a thousand times for these kind words, they mean SO SO much to me.

I'm not sure what you consider long but I do have a clear path towards 8 chapters, and 30K written down right now with a bit more to go. Hope it's ok! have a GREAT day, please rest and get better! <3

#this is so sweet #i have never had a fic have this many people interacting and showing so much love #thank you TLSP fandom yall are diamonds #asks #jojo's things

1 note · View note

afrofuturism-112 · 2 years

Text

Blog #6

Blog Assignment #6

Adam Robinson

The GateKeeper

All of these blog posts on Afrofuturism have led me to my final piece of work, which was a short film I made for this course, AfAm 112B at UCLA, called The GateKeeper. The idea to this came to me during a discussion section where my TA presented the concept of innocence through two pieces of art she created, depicting children with balloons. We talk about how balloons are fragile and never last very long, but they provide so much amusement and joy. This made me think of stuffed animals and how at a certain age we are told that we can’t have them, or that we need to grow up, or something is said to make us get rid of those attachments. My TA mentioned that these people are acting as “Gate Keepers.” In that moment, this entire film flashed before my eyes and I knew I had to make it for my final project in this course. It includes elements of fantasy and assimilation, like the way the concepts are shown in the afrofuturistic film Sorry to Bother You.

(This next section may contain spoilers and can be read after viewing the film.)

Now, here are some fun facts about the film. The idea came to me a week after we had to turn in project ideas in the middle of our quarter, which is 10 weeks long. So, that means, the end of week 6 was when the idea came to me. It took me another two weeks to nail down my actors. Now, the film was supposed to have a different actor for the GateKeeper, but the night before the shoot, only 9 hours, my actor backed out. I didn’t know what to do. He then sent me information for a friend of his, who agreed to be in the film and learned his part in that short time. Filming took 5 hours. Then several days into editing my video editing software program malfunctioned and corrupted all my data. This had me in tears, not just for fear of what would happen to my grade but that I would not get the opportunity to see my film come together. Well, another software came into my life and I spent a full week of 8-12 hour days editing.

Now, the film deals with the idea of “gatekeepers” in our everyday life. These individuals can be anyone. They are people who decide that they need to share idea passed down to them, or that they have seen in society, that keep us from remaining as individuals. Now, not all of the concepts they present are bad, but they are often delivered before an appropriate time or before someone is ready or in a manner that was never needed. For example, kids might be pushed to let go of stuffed animals. Those toys are a symbol of their imagination and innocence. Sure, to some it might look funny or a little strange if they carry around the same stuffed animal when they are in their twenties or thirties. However, some of the discomfort we feel comes from someone’s ideas that having those toys with us wherever we go in our twenties and thirties is wrong or immature. Now, the choice to have such toys is not as important as the gatekeepers who took it upon them to show you the way. Now, toys is one topic, but people gatekeep when it comes to finances, religion, relationships, politics, personal views, weight, fitness, gender, and so much more. Remember, not all of the views are bad or wrong, but the gatekeeping until one conforms is the subject matter my film gets at. So as one watches they may ask themselves how and when they have been gatekeepers? They may also appropriately ask themselves if they were in the right doing so? The answers vary, but in the meantime please enjoy this short film made by an amazing cast and with a lot of love and care.

Also, the innocence of my child actors was kept intact by not actually having them remain in the scenes where the gatekeeper talks about deeper topics.

https://youtu.be/sR6KhVCFhwo

0 notes

myherowritings · 3 years

Text

PART 1. A VERY WELL-DESERVED TIP

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.0k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. my brief work as a barista is finally paying off. i suffered at sbux all to write this fic ✌︎('ω'✌︎ ) LMAOOO i frl had so much fun writing this and i’m very excited to share the next parts ;) i hope you enjoy this fic as much as i do!! xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

You were not looking forward to your new work schedule for the next month.

The employee who usually came in for opening shifts at four in the morning gave her two weeks notice...two weeks ago. And since you had your availability open (you knew you should’ve blocked it off and said you had morning class), your manager asked you to fill her place.

The night before your first—of many—morning shifts, you tried tricking yourself into thinking it was a good idea. And it almost worked! Sort of.

You told yourself waking up early when the sun rose worked with your body’s natural circadian rhythm and this experience may adjust your sleep schedule for a healthier one in the long run. Better health and wellbeing and lower risks of cardiovascular disease. Or something. You weren’t too sure exactly; you never paid much attention in biology but it sounded like something you’d find in a textbook, right?

When you arrived on your first day, the morning shift was just as hectic and chaotic as you expected. People in business suits with name brand bluetooth earphones in their ears and the latest new smartphone in their hand filled the shop and waited for their online order. It was as if they wanted the least amount of social interaction possible, which would be fine if being able to make connections with customers wasn’t the most interesting part about being a barista.

Although the cafe you worked at was a small business who actually (tried) to pay their employees fairly and wasn’t a purely money hungry franchise like the certain green siren, it surprisingly had gained enough traction in the area to rival one of those cheap, chain stores.

Good for the business, bad for sleepy workers who could barely function in the mornings.

But you enjoyed working here and the owners were kind, so you did your best to shove away the tiredness and put a bright and cheery smile on your face. The customers were grumpier than you were used to, but who wouldn’t be a little ill-mannered having to go to work at 5 a.m. and probably not leaving until 6 p.m. or later because of bosses who overworked them? Trying to get them their morning coffee with an amiable attitude to start off their day right was something you were more than happy to do.

It was too bad barely any of them gave you the time of day. They just wanted to get their caffeine and leave with as little human interaction as possible. It was understandable, of course, but it wasn’t the lively cafe environment you were used to during later shifts. You sighed, hoping the atmosphere would be friendlier when it wasn’t a major rush hour.

“Hi! I can help the next person in line,” you called for the twentieth time this hour. When they moved forward towards the cash register, you gave them a smile. “Good morning. I hope your day has been going well!”

“It’s been okay, thank you. And yours?”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you almost sputtered over thin air. Someone who actually replied back to what you said and asked about you in return? Even if the intent was a courtesy conversation that was meant to be quick and brief, the sentiment was there—the upholding of the values of common courtesy and human decency. Something too many people seemed to lack.

“I’m good as well! A little tired but what’s to be expected a quarter ‘til 6 a.m.?” you said with a laugh. “Thank you for asking.”

The customer gave a small smile in return and you internally celebrated for finally seeing your first pleasant expression this morning. “Must be even more tiring dealing with all these people. Doesn’t seem easy. I have to commend you for it.”

He was a tall, handsome man with a pretty face, soft-looking hair, and genuinely nice? There was no way this was real; you had to be dreaming.

You twiddled with the pen in your hands, taken aback and mildly embarrassed by the praise. “Just doing my job,” you said with a bashful look. “Thank you, though.” You cleared your throat, not wanting to hold the line up for too long, even if the customer was one you would rather keep talking to than the others. “Now, what can I get started for you today?”

“Right. Can I get a flat white in the medium size?”

“Of course.” You typed in his order into the register before asking, “And is there anything else I can get for you? Like a pastry? Today we have some freshly baked cheese danishes that are really yummy if you’d like to try!”

He thought for a while before shrugging. You weren’t sure if it was your eyes playing tricks on you or he actually had an amused look on his face. “Sure, I’ll take a couple dozen of those as well.”

“A couple dozen—?” your voice faltered. The suggestion of a fresh pastry was one you made to almost every customer, though most turned it down on the spot.

The cafe had a little weekly competition between workers to see who could sell the most pastries in the week and the one who sold most got...well, a free pastry and bragging rights. Admittedly, it wasn’t much, but nothing revved up sales like friendly rivalries. An order of a couple dozen was sure to land you in the top spot this week! Still, you had to make sure he meant it. You’d feel bad if he was just spending all his hard-earned office work money because he was trying to be courteous. (Or at least, you assumed he was some office employee.)

You cautiously asked, “Are you sure?”

Either your eyes were playing tricks on you yet again, or the look of amusement on his face grew even more than before as he said, “I’m sure. One medium flat white and, say, three dozen boxes of cheese danishes, please.”

“C-Coming right up!” you said, quickly entering his order and celebrating your free end-of-the-week pastry in advance. “That will be $42.81. Would that be card or cash?”

“Card.” He pulled out a sleek, black card with gold detailings on it and you never knew you could be sexually attracted to a credit card until now.

“Perfect! Go ahead and swipe, insert, or scan your card now. In the meantime, can I get a name for your order please?”

He scanned his card over the machine before looking back up at you. “It’s To— Ah, Shouto.”

“Shouto?” you asked in confirmation. You assumed it wasn’t ‘Toahshouto’. That sounded too much like the abbreviation used to remember how to find sine, cosine, and tangent.

“Yeah. Shouto.”

You smiled. “Well, Shouto, your order will be ready in a few minutes. Please wait over to your right to pick it up!”

He nodded.

“It was nice meeting you!” you called, waving goodbye. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“Thank you,” he glanced at your nametag, “Y/N.”

Oh, how nice it felt to be treated like a human by a customer and have them actually address your name— And not to say it in a condescending way either.

“Do individual baristas get to keep the tips here?”

You blinked, feeling your face warm up slightly. “We do, actually.” One of your favorite parts of the job, you had to admit.

“Glad to hear.” Shouto pulled out some crisp-looking bills from his wallet and placed one in your hand that said ‘100’ to you. “Thank you for your kind service, Y/N.”

“Wha—” Your eyes widened. You were expecting something along the line of three dollars. Maybe five at most. But a hundred? By the time you had processed what had happened he was walking away from the cash register. “Wait— Shouto...sir! I think you accidentally gave me the wrong amount.”

He shook his head, only briefly turning back to face you. “Nope. It’s for you,” he said simply. “I’m looking forward to the cheese danishes.”

His words left you stunned, but the next customer in line tapped their foot impatiently, signaling it was now time for you to take their order. You hoped the line died down before Shouto left the cafe so you could return the tip, but seeing as how the queue almost extended out the door, you had the sinking feeling that wouldn’t be a possibility.

“Hello, I can take the next customer in line!” you recited cheerfully, mind still occupied by thoughts of your last encounter.

The next few orders went along uneventfully (though you did manage to sell two more cheese danishes) and by the time Shouto got his coffee and pastry boxes, you still had a handful more customers to get through.

“Pardon me real quick,” you said apologetically to the woman in front of you. “Please give me one moment?”

She graced you with a nod and you thanked the stars above for an understanding patron.

“Wait— Excuse me, sir!” You waved in Shouto’s direction before he could exit the cafe. He glanced at you curiously but walked over. In a hushed voice, you said, “I really appreciate the tip, but there’s no way I could accept this much money from you!”

For the first time today, you say the hints of a frown on his face. “You cannot?”

“No! $100 is a lot! You already bought $40 worth of cheese danish pastries— Are you sure you meant to give that big of a tip?”

“Of course.” He took a sip of his coffee with a satisfied hum. “You getting up at such an early hour to take people’s orders with a kind attitude isn’t easy. Plus, trying to build rapport with each of them all while keeping the interacting swift is a difficult task itself. And it’s probably worth more than your current pay, the $100 tip, and then some.”

You blinked, stunned by his words. This man kept surprising you so many times in just one morning.

“I find it ridiculous how certain occupations are paid an ungodly amount more than others, especially when a lot of it comes from privileges you were born into.” Shouto seemed to mumble the last bit to himself, but you were still able to understand what he said. “It’s bullshit.” Before you could respond, he recollected himself. “Eat the rich, right? All that to say, please accept the tip. You deserve it. And I promise it’s of no detriment to me, so please don’t feel bad.”

Seeing the determined look on his face, you couldn’t help but stare at him before nodding. He didn’t say anything you didn’t already believe yourself, and if someone really wanted to give you $100, you weren’t going to fight them on it. Think of all the dumplings you could buy, you told yourself.

“T-Thank you then.” You gingerly placed the folded bill back into your pants pocket. “I think that was really insightful of you and I’m very grateful.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled before glancing towards the exit. “I’m running a bit late for work now, so I should be going. Have a good day, Y/N.”

“You too, Shouto. And… Thank you again!”

With a glowing expression on your face, you walked back to the cash register ready to face the day and talk to more lovely customers!

“Hey, little barista!” a gruff voice called from the line, snapping you out of your stupor. “Hurry it up already before you force me to complain to your manager.”

You internally sighed. You understood they were in a rush, but they still had no right to be that rude.

“Can you even hear me? Or are you too incompetent?”

Cue another internal sigh.

Yeah, okay. Maybe you did deserve this $100 tip.

Regardless of the rude customers that may have come in, at least you had your thoughts of a cute, kind businessman who went by the name of Shouto to get you through your shift. And you could only hope you’d be able to see him again.

a/n: the end of part one folks!! oh what i’d give to have gotten a tip like this when i worked as a barista BAHAHA only in my dreams. i hope you enjoyed this little intro part and are excited for what’s to come !! :3

what to expect in the next part:

~maybe~ y/n will see shouto again and,,perhaps,,get more tips from him idk who knows

old lady imparts some...helpful(?) advice

we briefly get to see shouto’s pov! ;D

3K notes · View notes

bvckys-doll · 3 years

Text

Masquerade

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: Y/N and her family are invited to a masquerade ball since Netherfield hall has a new owner: Lord James Buchanan Barnes. What (Y/N) does not know is that this will be her last night among the living.

Warnings: soft!dark themes here! A bit of manipulation. Blood! Pride and Prejudices vibes at the beginning of the fic.

Author’s note: I’m happy that I can finally post this one because I’m a whore for masquerade balls and vampires! Especially Vampire!Bucky! This goes out to @emily-roberts (who can’t be tagged unfortunately) since they inspired me to work on Masquerade here! Maybe this will get a sequel, i’m not sure yet.

You can find my masterlist here!

The year is 1867. Queen Victoria is still in power, and the country is at peace. At least, to the people who are lucky enough to live in the countryside in England. Especially the women who were the ones that learned the least of the ongoing problems around the world. At this time in history, they were mostly excluded from these kinds of conversations. Something (Y/N) was deeply offended by.

Most of the women around her had only one thing on their mind: the latest gossip and men.

Nothing would fit better into the gossip than a mysterious lord who had recently moved into the large estate near Netherfield Park. The whole city was in turmoil, and everyone wanted to get one of the coveted invitations to the grand inauguration party.

(Y/N) could still remember the day a few weeks ago when her mother was running around the house in a rage and talking to herself over and over again. Her father had tried to ignore his wife as much as possible.

“I have heard from Mrs. Brenstock that the new Lord of Netherfield Park is about to give a ball. A ball, Mr. Edwards! Can you imagine that? He doesn’t seem to have sent out any invitations yet, otherwise, we would have gotten one by now, wouldn’t we? Tell me I’m right” she had let herself sink into her chair. With the thick needle in her hand, she repeatedly stabbed her new embroidery cloth.

(Y/N) had been sitting across from her mother at the time and hardly noticed her rambling about the ball, as the young lady was too absorbed in her thoughts about her newest book, which was on the table in front of her.

For her mother, this was finally the chance to marry her off to a rich man. Perhaps even to the owner of the estate himself, since many speculated him to be single. Most women of (Y/N)’s age were already married, some even had children.

It wasn’t that (Y/N) wasn’t very talkative. If she was given a suitable subject, she could chat for hours, but her mother had always preached to her that no man wanted a woman with a loud attitude. Despite all this, (Y/N) didn’t kept her mouth shut and spoke freely about what she thought. Mostly.

It had been a month since that conversation between her parents and (Y/N) was now sitting with them in a carriage on their way to the estate of the new lord of Netherfield Park.

The letter had arrived about two days after the long discussion between her mother and her quiet father. (Y/N) seemed to be more relieved than her mother because she couldn’t bear her constant chatting and complaining about the ball.

In her lap was a white mask that her mother had brought home a few days ago. A masquerade. That was the order of the new landlord. An unusual way to celebrate a party, where you wanted to get to know the locals better, but (Y/N) didn’t put much thought into it.

With a calm look, she peered out of the window of the carriage and could see how the estate grew in the distance. The lights were shining through the high windows towards them as they rode the carriage to the large courtyard, where some other women were already getting out of their carriages and ascending the great marble staircase with their families.

Her father was the first to go out of the carriage, before he helped his wife out. In the end, he reached out to his daughter. For a brief moment, (Y/N) struggled with the wide skirt of her dress, before standing firmly on the ground.

Once again, she let her gaze wander over the courtyard and looked up at the broad facade of the estate. Suddenly (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a silhouette. Someone who seemed to be looking down at them and was watching what was going on. But before (Y/N) could take a closer look, her mother grabbed her arm and dragged her into the hall.

Upstairs in the said room, James watched how the carriages gathered in the courtyard and presented the different guests of almost every status. All came to see some of the wealth of the estate and the treasures that were on display in its halls.

“How many people will visit us tonight? Take a guess” Steve asked him. He was sitting at his best friend’s desk and had put his feet on the tabletop while he leaned back.

James’s gaze was still on the staircase as his gaze followed the woman who had just looked up at him. Yet he replied, “More than two hundred, I would say. Enough to get our bellies full for the next month. You’re going to keep them under control, aren’t you? We need posts at every door.”

“Of course. I’ve never worked sloppy before. You should know that”, Steve winked at him before he stood up and drained the last remaining blood out of his cup. The next moment he pulled some gloves out of his jacket and put them on “But answer me one. Why a masquerade?”

“You don’t want anyone to remember us by mistake, do you?”, a dark smile grazed James features. A similar smile came up on Steve’s face before he pulled the mask over his eyes and left.

In the meantime, the large ballroom of the estate had filled with guests and a small orchestra on a raised balcony played quiet music.

With all the hustle, (Y/N) wondered if she would even recognize anyone. The masks just made it harder to spot anyone she knew. Maybe she could get away from her mother. Time and time again she looked for familiar eyes.

Nervously, she again smoothed the wrinkles of her skirt and chewed around her lower lip. With each breath, it seemed to her as if the corsage of her dress was still lacing up.

Before her inner rambling could cause her to make her more uncomfortable, the hitting of a staff made the crowd go quiet. Everyone held their breath and turned to the source of the voice “Please welcome Lord James Buchanan Barnes and Colonel Steven Grant Rogers!”

The guests applauded in honour of the two men who were standing on a raised platform at the end of the hall. One of them stepped forward and raised his wine glass. (Y/N) couldn’t make out his features. Still, he wore a fancy dark suit with a wine-red tie. His slightly longer hair was tied with a ribbon in the back of his head. Although (Y/N) couldn’t see his eyes, they seemed pitch black.

“It is an honour to welcome you all to my new home. Until now, I have been welcomed with kindness in this beautiful little town and I am very happy to get to know you all better soon. I haven’t even lived here for a month, but it already feels like home to me. Let us all enjoy this evening. Sing, laugh and dance!”, his voice echoed through the room. It gave (Y/N) goosebumps.

He raised his glass to which his guests responded with the same gesture before they all took a sip of their drinks. It took less than five seconds, and the conversations were resumed. It was as if that greeting had never happened.

But (Y/N) could not take her eyes of her host. This was the person she had previously seen standing at the window. Before she could look away from him, he had already noticed her and seemed to reply to her stare. She tensed.

She hastily looked at the wine glass in her hand, from which she quickly took a short sip. The music started again. This time a bit louder than before because the guests began to dance. It wouldn’t take long for her mother to approach her once again and tell her daughter to find a suitable dance partner for the night.

“Do you see that woman over there? The one in the red dress and the white mask”, Bucky walked next to Steve as they made their way through the guests, who all respectfully stepped aside and bowed. Again and again, the two nodded to some people appreciatively.

Steve followed his friend’s gaze unobtrusively and nodded briefly “Pretty little thing. Do you want to go play or save her all to yourself for the night?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but I am sure going to do something with her”, he winked at Steve and stopped at the edge of the dance floor, watching his guests dance. Shortly thereafter, Steve also left him to dance with his wife Margaret, who approached them.

While his friends were busy having fun at the party, James resumed his search for the woman he had just spotted. It did not take long for him to find her her standing next to an elderly couple, who seemed to have an exciting conversation with two other guests. The woman herself didn’t seem very interested in the conversation and kept sipping on her glass. That was his cue.

(Y/N) gave out a soft sigh and investigated her wine glass, which would soon be empty. She listened with one ear to the conversation of her parents but did not attempt to participate herself. The unknown woman just boasted how her daughter had married a wealthy man from Oxford some time ago and now lived there. (Y/N) was already getting ready for a sermon from her mother.

Once again, the young woman raised her glass to her red lips as suddenly-

“Excuse me if I bother you but would you do me the honour of dancing with me?” said a deep voice to her, which seemed quite familiar to (Y/N). Her gaze wandered from her glass to the chest of the man standing before her. Her breath was stunted. It was Lord Barnes looking down at her with a gentle smile on his lips. He held out his hand to her, but (Y/N) couldn’t take her eyes off him.

For a moment, it seemed as if (Y/N) had forgotten to have a normal and decent conversation when her mother stepped in and tore the glass out of her hand “She would be honoured to dance with you, Lord Barnes.”

A charming smile spread across his lips as her mother said so. But he turned his gaze to (Y/N) again and asked for her approval “I hope that is indeed the case.”

(Y/N) blinked. Once, twice.

“Yes, I would very much like to dance with you”, she now agreed herself and took his hand, which he still held out to her. He gently drew her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand “What a relieve.”

It was not only her mother who lost her breath at this gesture. Like in a trance, (Y/N) followed her new dance partner onto the wide dance floor, where people automatically made room for them in awe. Soon he stopped with her in the middle of the dance floor and pulled her to his chest, where she instinctively assumed her posture and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Slowly the music started anew. A slow waltz. Controlled, he guided her through the room, and it seemed as if (Y/N) had never done anything else in her life. Every step was exactly as it should be. It was as if they were floating over the dance floor. At least, it seemed like that to her.

“I hope I didn’t take you by surprise”, James remarked, looking down at his dance partner, who focused her eyes on his chest. The reason behind it was the fact that he was a lot taller than her.

Hastily (Y/N) shook her head as her cheeks heated up “Not at all, my lord. I was just surprised, that’s all. There are so many beautiful young women here, I wondered why you chose me.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have just chosen the prettiest in the room”, James replied, presenting her his charming smile, which made his eyes light up for a second. (Y/N)’s knees got soft. It seemed liked she had been enchanted by his aura.

It wasn’t long before the music became quieter and stopped. Together with the other couples, they stopped and applauded the musicians before James gave her his arm and whispered to her “Would you like to accompany me outside? It seems to be getting a little stuffy in here.”

A lie. It’s been years since James truly breathed air.

“I would love to.”, (Y/N) nodded and took shelter with her host before following him out onto the wide terrace. On their way there, (Y/N) did not notice James meeting the eyes of one of his men. It was Sam who stood near the exit and smiled at his friend. He knew James had found someone new to play with. If only it were for tonight.

“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” James looked up to the sky, where thousands of stars were glowing. It was more common here in the countryside. In the cities, the stars could be barely seen by the smoke rising through the chimneys into the sky.

(Y/N) followed his gaze and leaned forward against the wide stone railing. She nodded back, “Yes, it is. You haven’t seen such a sight very often, have you? I mean, I heard you moved out of town. What prompted you to do this?”

“The war and tranquillity I am looking for”, James replied honestly this time and turned his gaze back to (Y/N), who was still looking up at the stars, but noticed how he looked at her with his eyes: “You haven’t told me your name yet.”

“You didn’t ask for it either”, (Y/N) replied quick and smiled.

Oh, she’s cheeky. I like that.

He laughed for a moment and neck before he asked, “May I know your name, milady?”

At last, she looked at him again and her eyes shone as she replied with a smile, “My name is (Y/N). And I’m not a lady, my lord.”

The tension she had felt before in his presence was blown away. She felt comfortable in his presence, but she couldn’t explain why. He radiated a certain calmness that made her feel safe and comfortable.

He tilted his head to the side as he smiled, “The name suits you. But tell me, (Y/N), why would a pretty woman like you be alone with your parents at a party like this? There must be a man in your life.”

“Why? Because a woman like me needs a man?” she answered with a counter-question. She wondered how long he would put up with it. But it seemed that the remark would excited him more.

He raised an eyebrow, to which she smiled briefly and replied honestly, “I have a mind of my own, as my mother says. Most men don’t like this feature very well. In our small town, they want a woman who makes a man look good. She has to be pretty and smart, but not too smart for her to make the man look stupid. She needs to be educated, but not waste too much time on it. The piano is very popular with most men.”

“Women who only deal with the latest gossip have never really interested me. Besides, I like to talk to women who can keep up with my intellect. Someone like you”, James replied honestly again, leaning his hip against the stone wall to take a close look at her.

As (Y/N) fixed her posture to look him right in the eye, he stepped foward. He gently raised his hand and put his index finger under her chin to raise it so that she could not take her eyes off of him, “Men can be stubborn, especially English men. But we Americans love it when a woman has something more on her mind than piano notes and pretty clothes. How boring it would be to have someone with you who only agrees with everything you say. I have met lots of these women, but I have seldom encountered someone like you.”

Smiling, (Y/N) held his gaze as he took his hand from her chin and took her hand in his. She looked down for a moment but did not attempt to let go.

“You’re the first man to say something like that to me, and you seem to mean it”, she smiled and briefly squeezed his hand. From the gloves he was wearing, she didn’t even notice how cold they were. Once again, he put her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand, “I am glad to see my presence and my personality please you, Lady (Y/N).”

“As I said, I’m not a lady”, she laughed softly as her cheeks heated up once more. The smile on his lips made her knees soft again, “To me, you are one.”

With every moment that passed, he liked the young woman more and more. Something he didn’t expect. It was selfish, but he knew then and there he wouldn’t let her go. Not as fast as he had planned. It would be difficult to inspire her for eternity once he had done it.

A life like him could also be lonely and desolate. Many souls had already gone mad after being transformed and being unable to return to the world of the living. It drove them mad. He wouldn’t let his (Y/N) go crazy. Not so easily.

“My Lord?” her sweet voice tore him from the thoughts that were swirling through his head. His gaze fell back on her as she gave him a worried look. He gently brushed a strand of her hair from her face and smiled calmly, “Forgive me, I was in my head.”

“Do you think maybe we should go back to the hall? Your guests would also like to exchange a few words with you. I don’t want to besiege you forever”, (Y/N) glanced over her bare shoulder and looked at the tinted glass doors that shielded her from the guests. Many couples were on the dance floor together and seemed cheerful.

“I think my guests will be able to be just fine without my constant presence for a while. Besides, it would be a lie if I said I didn’t want to spend some more time with you”, he replied, following her gaze briefly before turning her gaze to him.

It seemed almost supernatural to (Y/N) that a man like Lord Barnes would take such an interest in her, but it was mutual. She didn’t want to leave him. Not yet. She was delighted with his company and gave him a warm smile before she replied, “And it would be a lie if I said I am not pleased by your interest.”

A burst of hearty laughter came over James' lips. It had been a long time since he had heard such words that had truly touched him. Smiling, he held her hand that was still in his, before leading (Y/N) from the terrace into the wide garden, where many lanterns illuminated their path.

(Y/N) had already placed her hand on his arm and followed him through the small maze that stood in the middle of the garden. The tall hedges shielded them from curious eyes as they disappeared deeper and deeper into the maze.

“My parents will probably be wondering where I am”, (Y/N) smiled as she followed James through the hedges, still holding his hand tightly in fear she could lose him. Apparently, he knew his way around the maze very well, for he guided them safely to a small square that marked the middle of the maze.

In the middle of the square stood a beautifully decorated pavilion, clad in red and white roses and ivy trees. James led her there and sat down with her on one of the two benches.

“Your parents know you’re in good hands with me. I would never allow anything…bad to happen to you”, James merely replied. (Y/N) couldn’t have known that evil himself was still holding her hand and concealing his cruel nature with a pretty face. He could feel her heartbeat speeding up a bit.

“You know, (Y/N), a life like mine. . . is very lonely”, he told her, looking at the flowers hanging next to him on a pole. Yet he noticed how her gaze stuck to him. In a calm voice he continued, “Although I am very wealthy and have seen so much of the world, I have been missing someone to share this life with for years. Someone who accepts me for who I am and doesn’t want to be with me just for my money and my land. Do you understand what I mean?”

His gaze fell back on her. (Y/N)’s eyes almost pierced through his head as her eyes turned glassy. A soft sigh escaped her as she gazed down into her lap.

“I understand you very well. Even though my mother’s efforts are straining me a lot, I still want someone who. . . likes me for me. Who wants me. Not for my dowry, but for myself. I have never spoken to someone who understands me as well. . . as you do”, she replied, being astonished at her words.

James Barnes was the first man she could talk to without having to pretend. Her slightly rough nature had not deterred him. He had been tenacious, but still kind and attentive. It’s been a long time since she met someone like him. His personality seemed to drew her even closer to him. As if there was an invisible ribbon, which now tied her to him.

“You are so much more than just your dowry and a pretty face, (Y/N). Maybe it’s too hasty, but it would be a pleasure for me to get to know you better. The real (Y/N), who doesn’t have to act and doesn’t want to impress anyone. I already know you a little, but. . . not quite yet”, he stroked her cheek, giving her goosebumps. In a good way.

A short smile grazed her lips as she put her hand on his, “I would also like to get to know you better, my lord.”

“Please call me James. The title is too formal for me”, he smiled gently at her and ran his thumb over her cheekbones as (Y/N) muttered softly, “As you wish,…James.”

Slowly, he noticed her pulse increasing. He looked her in the eyes again as he got closer, and she could feel his cold breath on her skin. For a brief moment, it seemed like a dream to her, but it became reality at the moment as his lips touched hers. (Y/N) froze. She wasn’t expecting that. Not yet.

Immediately he broke away from the kiss and pulled his hand from her cheek, “Sorry, that was a little too hasty of me.”

If there was still blood flowing through his body, he’d be blushed. For the first time in a long time, he seemed nervous and ran his fingers through his hair. But (Y/N) grabbed his hand and shook her head calmly, “No, please. I was just…surprised that you…feel that way about me.”

“You’re just…so different. In a positive way, of course”, he held her hand and squeezed it briefly once when (Y/N) was the one who came a little closer and leaned forward, “No, you must forgive me. I didn’t mean to reject you. I like you…very much.”

Now James knew it was the right time.

Slowly he leaned over to her and kissed her gently on the mouth. Sighing her eyes closed as the young lady returned his kiss a little cautiously. After all, he had more experience in it than she did. But only now did (Y/N) realize how cold he was. It’s almost freezing.

“James, you’re so cold”, (Y/N) gently detached herself from the kiss and held her lips as he stroked her cheek and put a strand behind her ear: “Don’t worry. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Once again, he conquered her lips and pulled her closer to his chest. A little more courageously, (Y/N) grabbed the collar of his suit and pulled him closer. She closed her eyes again as he slowly continued to kiss her but wandered from her cheek down to her throat. Her eyes remained closed as she enjoyed his kisses on her warm skin. His lips were still cold, but now she did not seem to care anymore.

Soon he could hear her rapid heartbeat as he lavished kisses on her neck. (Y/N) did not notice how his eyes darkened and his teeth stretched into pointed pillars.

For a moment, James wrestled with himself over whether he should really kill her or go even further. Still, one thing was very clear. (Y/N) would never see the light of day again.

"Forgive me." he breathed against her soft skin and closed his eyes before placing his hand over her mouth. Before (Y/N) could even realize what was happening to her, he rammed his teeth into her neck. Her scream was stifled by his hand, but her body didn't give up so quickly. Panicked, she pushed and pounded against his chest as James sucked the blood from her body. But all her attempts did her no good, as he was far too strong for her.

Finally, she slumped lifelessly in his arms and sank against his chest. Sighing, James detached himself from her neck and pressed another soft kiss to the wound where his teeth had pierced her skin moments ago.

Gently he laid the young woman on the bench and pushed her hair out of her face. Carefully he untied the ribbon at the back of her head and pulled the mask from her face.

"Just as I imagined, my darling..." he ran his thumb over her lower lip and looked into her lifeless eyes before pulling his own mask off his face and tossing it on the floor beside him.

He took her hand in his and kissed the back of her hand, "I'll take care of you, my angel. No one will ever be able to hurt you again. We'll be together forever."

#vampire!bucky barnes #soft dark theme #soft dark #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #female reader #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #dont repost #fanfiction #own gif #giphy #masquerade

386 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

hi eve! what do you think about a video where couples do the chapstick challenge? like jily vs coops and they compete to see what couple guesses more right! idk i think i would be fun

It's been too long since I wrote one of these--I missed them! Coops, Cubs, and SW Jily belong to @lumosinlove <3

“Welcome back, everyone!” Dorcas said with a smile to the camera. “It’s been over a month since our last big video like this due to scheduling, but we hope you’ve been enjoying our more active social media presence in the meantime. I’m here today with James and Lily Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and our lovely Cubs. How were your summers, everyone?”

“Hear that, Cap?” Logan’s grin was smug as the cat that got the canary. “I’m lovely.”

“Our summers were great,” Sirius said, ignoring him. “Lots of vacation time.”

“At our house,” Lily teased.

“Yeah, while you were on vacation. It’s called being a good godfather.”

“I’m glad you all had fun,” Dorcas interjected smoothly as she pulled three bags from under her chair. “Because we’ve got a very special game today. Inside these bags are ten blank chapstick tubes, each with a different flavor. One person from each team will apply the chapstick to their lips, and their partner will first have to kiss them, then guess the flavor. Finn, Leo, and Logan, your team will have two guessers.”

“They get two guesses?” Remus protested. “That’s so unfair!”

Dorcas shrugged. “They have to guess at the same time, and they only get one point per correct answer.”

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Y’know, Loops, you’re starting to sound pretty homophobic over there…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Remus sighed.

The camera cut; when it returned, Lily, Sirius, and Finn were seated in folding chairs with the bags of chapstick in their laps and a small sticky note in their hands. Across from them, their significant others were sitting with large headphones over their ears.

“Can you hear me?” Dorcas called.

Remus didn’t react at all as he messed with the trailing wire; Logan squinted at her. “Quoi?”

“I can’t hear anything,” James said loudly. “This is super weird. It’s just, like, humming. Honey, it sounds like Harry’s white noise machine!”

Lily smiled reassuringly and patted his hand. “A little quieter, lover.”

“What?”

“A little—nevermind.”

Dorcas’ mouth twitched with a suppressed smile. “Non-guessers, you can find all the flavors written on stickers at the bottom of each tube. Please start with number one on your flavor lists when you’re ready.”

Sirius bit his lip as he riffled through the bag, and Remus leaned forward to give him a light peck at the corner of his mouth. “I haven’t put any on yet!” he laughed.

Remus paused. “What?”

“I haven’t put any chapstick on.”

“Slower, I’m not good at lipreading.”

“Mon dieu,” Sirius muttered with a shake of his head.

Next to him, Finn had already applied his first flavor and was sitting with a happy smile as Leo and Logan thought for a moment. “Is it lime?’ Leo guessed.

“I think it’s lime,” Logan said half a second later. Finn gave them a thumbs-up and the three of them high-fived. “Called it!”

“That’s…lemon? Really sour lemon?” James guessed. Lily shook her head and showed him the tube. “Lime. Shit.”

Remus licked his lips. “Lime?”

Sirius nodded. “Oui!”

“Really? Hell yeah!”

“We’re at a bit of an advantage,” Sirius said as he put the lime in his lap and checked his list. “I wear chapstick all the time.”

“Why?” Dorcas asked, sounding rather amused.

“My lips get dry from being at the rink all day.” Sirius shrugged and put the next one on. A mischievous smile flickered over his mouth and he tilted his chin toward Remus. “He won’t leave me alone, either.”

Remus’ eyebrows pitched and he leaned forward. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You have to go slower, I really can’t—”

“Green apple!” Logan exclaimed, slapping Finn’s knee in excitement as Dorcas covered her mouth to hide her laughter. “I remembered what it’s called!”

“Correct!” Finn announced.

“I think it’s green apple,” Leo said.

James pulled away and rested his chin on his hand. “Kind of a caramel apple, but without the caramel.” Lily turned to face the camera with a look of disbelief. “So just a normal apple, I guess.”

“Yes!” Lily turned his face toward her with a smile. “You got it!”

“I got it? Woohoo!”

“That’s green apple.” Remus wrinkled his nose. “Tastes like those shitty candy apple lollipops, though. Did I get it?”

Sirius nodded and wiped his lips off. “Number three is pomegranate,” Dorcas announced.

Finn frowned as he dug through his bag. “I don’t—there it is. Wow, this smells really nice.”

Leo paused and smiled before kissing him. “That smells really nice!”

“Does it?” Finn laughed before moving to give Logan a kiss.

“Oh, I like that,” Remus said, kissing Sirius a second time. “No idea what the flavor is, but I like it. Hmm. I have to think about that.”

“Is that frosting?” James asked excitedly as he grabbed Lily’s hands. “Do you have frosting flavored chapstick?”

“No,” she laughed, shaking her head. “What the hell? It’s pomegranate.”

“It’s what?”

“Pomegranate.”

“Persimmon?” She rolled her eyes and showed him the sticker. “Wow, I never would have guessed that.”

“Is it cherry?” Remus guessed. Sirius shook his head and his face fell. “Aw.”

Leo and Logan shared a look as Finn kept his poker face. “I have no idea what that is,” Logan finally said. “It’s sweet, though.”

“Is candy-flavored chapstick a thing?” Leo wondered. Finn held the tube up. “Pomegranates are tart. That wasn’t tart.”

“What the hell is that?” Logan looked to someone off-screen and held one of his headphones away from his ear.

“Une grenade!” someone called.

“Oh! That didn’t taste like it at all.”

All four guessers kissed their partners within a few seconds for the fourth—almost immediately, they pulled away, faces twisting. “Oh my god,” Remus coughed, wiping his lips. “That’s grape. Oh my god.”

James’ nose scrunched. “It’s grape. I don’t like it.”

In a moment of direct action, Leo took the wet wipe Finn had been using and ran it over his mouth while Logan stuck his tongue out. “It’s grape, and it’s gross. No more cough syrup kisses, please.”

“You’re halfway there!” Dorcas called, chalking up their correct guesses on a whiteboard as Lily, Sirius, and Finn applied the fifth flavor.

Sirius held his hand up as Remus started moving in and sneezed. “Desolee. Okay, you can go now.”

Remus kissed him and recoiled in half a second. “More cough syrup? Are you kidding me? It’s not any better when it’s cherry.”

“Dorcas,” Leo whined when he pulled away. “The first ones were such nice flavors!”

“My head hurts just tasting that,” James said miserably. “It’s that awful fake cherry stuff.”

“That’s cherry.” Logan smacked his lips with a grimace. “Eugh.”

Dorcas held up five fingers for them to see as she spoke. “Just five more, and you’re all done. Those are the only bad ones.”

Lily lit up as she applied the sixth and James hurried to kiss her. “Oh, that one is nice! You always wear strawberry. It’s my favorite.”

Remus shrugged. “Kiss was great, flavor’s fine. It’s just fake strawberry, yeah?”

“Whew.” Leo’s eyebrows rose after the kiss. “Very st—”

“Oh, strawberry!” Logan interrupted. “Katie makes me wear something like that when we have tea parties.”

Dorcas added more tallies to her board. “Tremzy, you can’t hear me, but that’s the cutest thing you’ve ever said. We need pictures.”

“I’ll find some,” Finn promised.

Sirius rubbed his lips together and made a face; Remus laughed, running the pad of his thumb along his mouth. “Stop, I can’t kiss you like that! It can’t be that bad.”

“That would give me a headache,” James said, clearly disappointed. “It’s some sort of pineapple monstrosity. Pina colada? I liked the strawberry a lot better.”

“It’s pineapple. Does that count?” Lily asked. Dorcas nodded, and she gave James a high-five.

“That’s not bad,” Leo admitted with a shrug. “Tastes like the dried mango we get at the store, the kind with all the sugar on it.”

“I don’t have the first idea what that is,” Logan said. “Knutty, I’m letting you take the reins here.”

“You’re both wrong,” Finn said, enunciating every word so they could read his lips.

“Baby—” Remus faltered with a laugh and held the wet wipes out of reach as Sirius tried to take them back. “Baby, we don’t get a point if you wipe it off. Just one kiss, okay?”

“Fine,” Sirius grumbled. Remus pressed a sweet kiss to his upper lip and handed him a fresh wet wipe. “Happy now?”

“Oh, I like that,” Remus said. “It’s definitely pineapple. I can see why you hated it so much.”

“Cap, do you not like pineapple?” Dorcas asked. His intense wiping of his lips was the only answer necessary. “We’re in the final three. Sirius, your team is in the lead by one.”

“Come on, hubs,” Lily said as she put the next one on. “This is easy-peasy. We have to beat Cap or we’ll never hear the—”

“Mint!” Leo exclaimed, looking quite proud of himself. “Ooo, it’s like Christmas.”

“I can smell it all the way over here,” Remus laughed, though he didn’t pass up the kiss. “That’s peppermint.”

“It’s like a candy cane,” James said dreamily.

“He’s not going to like this one,” Sirius said as he capped the next chapstick. “I like it, though, and that’s all that matters. Pucker up, Loops.”

“Oh, hell no.” Remus leaned back as Sirius leaned in, keeping his lips out of range. “Nope, not a chance. That’s some plastic vanilla bullshit and I’ll be tasting it all day.”

Dorcas tapped him on the shoulder and he lifted one headphone. “If you don’t taste it, you don’t get a point this round.”

“We can take the hit.”

“What? No!” Sirius protested. “I had to taste the pineapple, remember?”

“I love you and I totally want to win this, but I really, really don’t want that taste in my mouth.”

“Fine,” Sirius sighed, wiping his lips off as Remus readjusted his headphones.

James’ face split into a beaming smile after his kiss. “Birthday cake!”

“No.”

“Shit.”

“Vanilla,” Leo and Logan said in unison.

Finn pumped both fists in the air. “Yes! We’re tied for first!”

Leo gave him a high-five. “I don’t know what you’re saying, but you seem excited about it!”

“Last one,” Dorcas warned. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“You should wear chapstick more often,” James said as Lily lined her lips. “It makes you so soft.”

“He has no idea how greasy my mouth feels right now,” she said fondly with a glance to the camera.

“Tell me about it,” Sirius agreed. “Alright, Loops, don’t pussy out this time.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. “You just told me not to pussy out, didn’t you?”

Sirius blinked at him. “I thought you couldn’t read lips.”

“C’mere.” Remus cupped his jaw in one hand and kissed him, then smiled. “Orange. Did we win?”

“Mmm, that’s what the oranges back home taste like,” Leo said, going in for a second kiss.

Logan licked his lips a couple of times. “Tastes like fancy orange juice. I like it.”

“In a cruel twist of irony, my lips are getting dry,” James said when they parted. Lily raised her eyebrows as he thought. “That’s orange. We won, right?”

“Take off your headphones,” Dorcas said, miming the motion until everyone could hear her before holding her scoreboard up. “Unfortunately, James and Lily are in last place with a score of seven out of ten. Cap and Harzy, your teams are tied for first place with eight out of ten.”

“We could have won if you didn’t have a personal grudge against vanilla,” Sirius said under his breath. Remus threw one of the chapsticks at him and Sirius dropped another down the neck of his shirt.

“Boys.” They both gave Dorcas a sheepish look and she shook her head. “Thankfully, we prepared for this situation with a tiebreaker. Nobody but me knows the flavor, and it is not written on a sticker. Remus, Leo, and Logan, you will not have to put your headphones on again, but you will have to correctly identify both flavors to get their point. You will write your answers on these whiteboards. You only get one kiss to determine your guess. On your marks, get set, go!”

Sirius swiped a decent amount over his lower lip and pulled Remus in with his hands on his cheeks; Finn practically used half the stick covering his mouth before collecting his kisses. “That’s interesting,” Leo murmured, tapping his dry-erase pen on his thigh. “That’s very interesting.”

Remus jotted down an answer and leaned back in his chair with a self-satisfied smile. “You know it?” Sirius asked with a grin.

“I do.”

“Is that your final guess?’ Dorcas checked. He nodded, and she took his pen. “Leo, Logan, do you have a guess as well?”

“I think I know one of the flavors,” Leo said cautiously, bending over to whisper it in Logan’s ear. He hummed in agreement, then whispered back.

“This is so intense,” James murmured, looking between the two teams as Lily perched herself on his lap. “I feel like I’m watching the Olympics.”

“If we get one of the flavors right and Loops gets both wrong, do we win?” Logan asked as Leo wrote their answer down.

Dorcas thought for a moment. “Yeah, sure. But only if Remus gets it completely wrong.”

“What’s the prize?”

“You already get to kiss your partners all afternoon instead of running drills. What more do you want?”

“Amen,” Remus agreed.

“Alright.” Leo handed over the whiteboard pen, though he looked nervous.

“Would you like to go first?” Dorcas offered.

“Coconut and lemon?”

“That is incorrect.”

“Ah, fuck me,” Logan muttered. “Loops, you’d better be wrong.”

Remus’ smile was even more pleased as Dorcas turned to him. “Remus, do you know what it is?”

“Well, Ms. Meadowes, I’m glad you asked. That’s Burt’s Bees honey and coconut.” He flipped the board with a flourish. “And it just so happens that my boyfriend bought that exact chapstick at the store last week and has worn it every single day since then.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Leo looked between them in shock as Logan’s jaw dropped. Finn buried his face in his hands. “Of every flavor on earth—”

“I promise it was not intentional,” Dorcas said, though she was laughing a little. “I literally rolled dice to pick it while I was looking at the website.”

Sirius looked to the ceiling as he pulled Remus’ chair closer. “Thank you, universe, for my terrible impulsive habits in the self-checkout line.”

Dorcas turned to the camera with a dimpled smile and spread her hands. “Thank you for joining us for the chapstick challenge, Lions! You can find all these flavors at the link in the description. Like and subscribe for more videos like this, have a great day!”

#remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #lily potter #leo knut #finn ohara #logan tremblay #coops #oknutzy #jily #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #lion pride #social media #chapstick challenge

207 notes · View notes

wishuhadstayed · 3 years

Text

Plus One

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word count: 3000ish

Summary: it’s baby time y’all!

Warnings: pregnancy complications, angst

Author’s Note: to those who have been waiting, I AM SO SORRY. I hope this will be worth it! Part 8? to Begin Again. Please feel free to yell at me in the comments if you feel so inclined.

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

Conversation flowed in the dining room and kitchen of the Hotchner residence as the BAU team and family impatiently anticipated the forthcoming announcement.

“It’s a boy, has to be,” Morgan mused.

“No way. Definitely a girl,” JJ contradicts.

“As much as it pains me to say, I think I have to go with Morgan on this one,” Emily admits.

“Garcia?” JJ inquires, “What do you think?”

“I have to agree with Chocolate Thunder on this one, love,”

“Are you all taking his side?” JJ asks with indignation. “I’ll bet you $50 that it’s a girl!”

“Oh you’re on, sweetheart,” Morgan complies with a winning smile.

“I don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy,” says Reid, “but I do know that I wouldn’t bet against JJ.”

“Thanks, Spence,” JJ replies, patting him on the shoulder. “Emily, Rossi? You wanna get in on the action?”

“Oh I am so staying out of this,” Prentiss responds. “Count me out.”

“I’m in with Morgan for $50,” Rossi states.

“Alright, but you’re all gonna be sorry,” JJ says with a smirk.

Overhearing the lively discussion, you enter the room.

“Children, what’s going on here?” You interject, “Don’t make me break up a fight.”

“Y/N! Just the lady I wanted to see!” Exclaims JJ. “May I?” She asks, gesturing towards your growing baby bump.

“Sure, go ahead,” you reply. “Do I even want to know?”

“We’re taking bets on the sex of the baby,” she replies placing a gentle hand on your belly. “And I am so totally going to win!”

“You can’t possibly know that, JJ,” Morgan interrupts.

“Call me crazy if you want,” says JJ, “but a mother knows.”

“I suppose you’ll all find out soon enough,” Aaron cuts in, placing a strong arm around your back and pressing his lips to yours for a quick, tender kiss. “Shall we?”

With that, everyone makes their way to the backyard, where a large golden balloon awaits.

Picking it up from the ground, Aaron asks, “Everybody ready?”

He didn’t really have to ask. The answer was unanimous.

“YES!”

“Jack, would you like to do the honors?” you inquire, holding out a safety pin for him.

“Can I?” he asks hopefully.

“Of course you can buddy. Just be careful, okay?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Dad and I will count you in, okay? On three.”

Together, you and Aaron slowly count, “One, two, THREE!”

A loud pop from the balloon momentarily startles the crowd and then..... a cloud of pink confetti floats to the ground.

“YES!” JJ shouts in her excitement. “PAY UP, LOSERS! We got a baby shower to plan!”

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

Several weeks later found you strolling through the back door of Rossi’s home into the yard where you’d married the man of your dreams not so very long ago.

This time it’s decorated for a slightly different occasion. Pale pink lanterns and streamers adorn everything in sight. A picnic table covered with a pink flowered cloth looks like it might collapse at any moment beneath the weight of a mountain of gifts wrapped in pastel paper. Heart shaped balloons are tied to the corners of another table on top of which is a giant bowl of pink punch, more food than you thought possible, and a breathtaking cake, decorated with tiny pink roses.

A tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality and you turn to see three beautiful, smiling faces. Women that you consider to be not only friends, but family at this point.

“Penny, Emily, JJ,” you say as your eyes begin to well up with tears, “This is too much! You shouldn’t have gone to this much trouble.”

“Oh this is the least we could have done for you, doll face,” Garcia interjects. “Nothing but the finest for my very best friend.”

“Don’t worry about it, my clean sweep at the gender reveal paid for most of this,” JJ jokes.

“You look absolutely radiant,” Emily adds, pulling you in for a hug.

“Where’s the boss man?” Penelope asks. “He’s coming isn’t he?”

“Oh yes” you reply. “He was helping Jack out of the car. He told me to come on in. He’s probably inside hanging out with boys for a minute.”

At that moment, you feel a pair of familiar arms encircling you, one across your chest and one just underneath your baby bump. A soft kiss on the cheek and he turns you around to face him. The tender look in his usually stern eyes melts you as he smiles and says,

“There’s my girls.”

“I love you, Aaron.”

“I love you too, darling.”

“Alright love birds, it’s time to get this show on the road!” exclaims Morgan, coming through the door with both Henry and Jack in tow.

“Thanks for keeping the kids entertained, Derek,” you whisper. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Mama. I’ve got it all under control,” he reassures with a wink.

“Should we be worried?” Aaron jokes under his breath.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Garcia offers, trailing off behind them.

Rossi and Reid bring up the tail end of the group, along with Jessica, Jack’s aunt, who had been previously supervising the kids.

“How are the parents-to-be feeling?” Rossi inquires.

“Overwhelmed, and so grateful,” you reply. “I know JJ said she covered most of it with her winnings, but I think we all know you pitched in too. And you’re a fantastic sport for letting the girls decorate your whole house pink.”

“Anything for some of my favorite people,” he replies patting you both on the shoulder.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Reid chimes in. “This baby’s really lucky to have such loving parents.”

“Reid, stop. You’re gonna make me cry,” you squeak out, pulling a tissue from your purse.

Just then, Jessica wraps an arm around both of you.

“Jess, you know you didn’t have to come,” Aaron says.

“Nonsense!” comes her reply. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

As you go to sit so you can open presents, Morgan pulls out the chair for you, then pulls one out for Garcia as they settle in to watch the kids.

Maybe you were mistaken, but you could have sworn you saw a flirty look pass between them. A mischievous grin crosses your face. Perhaps you should do a bit of your own matchmaking.

“Jack!” you call. “Don’t you wanna help Mama open some of her presents?”

“Yeah! Can Henry help too?”

“What do you think JJ?” you ask.

“As long as it’s okay with you,” she agrees.

The kids ran up to help with their very important present duty. Jack retrieving smaller presents and helping rip the paper. Henry mostly just playing with the shiny bows. Thus leaving Morgan and Garcia free of responsibility.

When the last present had been opened, and the last game played, Aaron made his speech.

“Y/N and I just wanted to thank you all so much for being here today. We love each and every one of you like family, and we are truly grateful for all your love and support. We are truly blessed to have such wonderful people in our lives. Thank you again.”

As everyone was leaving, Penelope pulled you to the side.

“Did you call the kids over for help specifically to leave Derek and I alone together?”

“Penny, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” came your reply. “I’m just getting too big to be bending over to grab the presents and I thought it would be fun for the kids.”

“If you say so,” she says with a skeptical look.

As she walks away, Aaron whispers in your ear, “You are so wrong for that, you know?” with a playful shove of your shoulder.

“Oh they’re perfect for each other and everyone knows it. Besides, she played matchmaker for us and look what happened,” you reply, rubbing your belly.

“Okay, okay!” he surrenders with a grin. “You’re right. You’re always right. You win.”

——————————————————————————

As the weeks crept by, your little family was not so patiently awaiting the arrival of its newest addition. Being pregnant and taking care of a 6 year old without your husband was extremely taxing, making the moments that you did have with him exceedingly special.

Moments like today. It was nothing exciting, just sitting on the couch, enjoying each other’s company, but sometimes that’s all you really need.

Seated across from each other, You can’t help but admire the sweet look on his face as he touches your belly.

“I still can’t believe we’re having a baby girl,” he mentions.

“Neither can I,” you agree. “She’s gonna be smart,” you state, resting your hand on top of Aaron’s. “A lawyer like her daddy.”

“She can be anything she wants,” he says, looking up with his smile revealing the stunning dimples that caught your eye on your very first date. “As long as she’s happy.”

“God I love you, Aaron.”

“I love you more, angel.”

But mom duty never stops.

“Oh!” you exclaim. “It’s almost time to pick up Jack from school and I haven’t even started dinner!”

“Don’t worry about it, babe,” Aaron says. “I’ll take care of everything, you just relax.”

“But I,”

“Ssshhhhh,” he interrupts. “No buts. I will pick up Jack, I will get dinner. You deserve a break.”

“Alright, if you insist.”

“I do.”

He leans in and gently brushes his lips against yours.

“I’ll be back soon.”

What felt like an eternity later, you hear the front door open and two distinct sets of footsteps.

“Mama!” Jack yelled, scrambling up into your lap for a hug. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, buddy,” you reassure, pulling him close to your chest.

“What’s for dinner, honey?” you ask?

A playful smirk forms on Aaron’s face, raising your suspicions.

“You’ll see. In the meantime, Jack how would you like to watch a movie with me and mom?”

You all settle on the sofa, Jack in Aaron’s lap and your head on your husband’s left shoulder. Just as you were drifting off to sleep near the end of the movie, a knock at the door startles you awake.

“Dinner’s here!” Aaron announces. “Come on buddy,” he encourages Jack. “Help me out.”

As you reach the table where the food is being laid out, tears begin to spring to your eyes.

“I got you fries and chocolate shake. And a cheeseburger. No mayo, extra pickles.”

“Babe,” you squeak out, “you remembered.”

“Of course I remembered. It’s all you talked about while I was away on my last case.”

You laugh and pull him close.

“I knew I married you for a reason.”

——————————————————————————

Around your 36 week mark, Aaron called from his hotel room to check on you.

“How are you, love?”

“Still pregnant,” you gripe.

“I know you’re exhausted, mama. I’ll be home tomorrow. Just remember the go bag for the hospital is packed and sitting right by the front door, just in case.”

“Yes, Aaron. You remind me every day. Honestly I think it’s bit overboard, I’m fine.”

“I just worry about you being alone while I’m gone is all. It never hurts to be prepared. Anyway, I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Love you too honey. Good night and be safe tomorrow.”

——————————————————————————

When Aaron arrived home the next night, he was greeted by the sight of you dozing on the couch.

Easing himself down on the edge, he swipes a lock of hair from your face. He softly kisses your forehead and watches as your eyes flutter open.

“Aaron?” you murmur. “You’re home.”

“I’m home,” he whispers. “How are my girls?”

“Better now that you’re home. I’ve had some pretty intense back pain, but otherwise fine.”

“Well sleeping on the couch probably isn’t helping,” he states matter of factly.

“Oh thank you doctor,” you reply sarcastically, giving his arm a playful slap. “I would never have known.”

“You’re welcome,” he says with a shit eating grin. “Let’s get some sleep.”And with that, he sweeps you off the couch, heading for the master bedroom.

——————————————————————————

You woke the next morning still in pain, but not wanting to disturb Aaron. You struggle to sit up, finally managing after a few tries. You pull back the sheets and immediately get a sense of panic and dread at the sight of blood on the hem of your nightgown and the sheets beneath you. As the tears begin to stream, you instinctively call out for him.

Waking up at the sound of his name he asks, “what’s wrong, baby?”

But he realizes the problem before you even get a chance to respond.

Amazingly he seems not to panic at all. The tears and hysterics don’t faze him at all. He simply grabs you out of the bed, carries your directly to the car, and buckles you in.

“Stay right here,” he instructs. “I’m getting Jack and we’re going to the hospital right now.”

What seems like an eternity later, but in reality was only a few minutes, Aaron emerges from the house with Jack and the go bag.

He peels out of the driveway and drives to the nearest hospital with no regard for the speed limit.

When you arrived to the emergency entrance, you look at him with a panic stricken face.

“I’m scared, Aaron.”

“Don’t worry darling,” he says soothingly. “I’m going to get you some help.”

The next thing you know several people are helping you out of the car and loading you onto a stretcher. As they wheel you inside he follows closely behind with Jack asleep in his arms.

“What going on?” you plead.

“I don’t know, love but they’re going to help,” he reassures.

Just then you overhear a member of the medical staff informing Aaron that he’s not allowed any farther.

“What do you mean he can’t come with me?” You wail.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but bleeding is very serious. Both you and the baby could be in danger. We need to get you treatment now and we can’t have any family in the room.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron says in a very calm and sure tone. “They’re going to take good care of you. Everything will be fine.”

“FINE? Nothing about this is fine!” you shout. “I can’t do this without you, Aaron.”

“Yes you can,” he replies, holding your hand. “You’re the strongest woman I know. You have to. Do it for her.” He says, placing his hand on your belly.

“We have to go now,” one of the nurses insist.

“Be strong for me okay?” He pleads, gaining a short tearful nod from you in response.

“I love you,” he calls out as they wheel you swiftly down the hall. Just before the stretcher is out of sight he hears your response.

“I love you more.”

——————————————————————————

Collapsing into a chair in the waiting area, mind racing with worry, Aaron does the only thing he can think of at the moment.

The phone rings, and then,

“Aaron! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon after a case,” Rossi says. “We don’t have plans today, do we?”

“No, Dave. It’s Y/N. We’re at the hospital.”

“Wow, I didn’t think she was due for a few more weeks.”

“She’s not,” Aaron explains, his voice beginning to break. “When we woke up, she was bleeding. From what I understand, it’s pretty serious. You’re the first person I thought to call.”

“Oh my God,” Rossi breathes. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Should I call the rest of the team?”

“Yeah, I think that would be best. I could really use some help with Jack. He’s still asleep for now, but,” Aaron pauses for a moment, choking back tears. “I don’t know what to tell him when he wakes up,” he finishes quietly.

“Just hold on, Aaron,” Rossi replies. “We’re coming.”

——————————————————————————

Within an hour, the whole BAU team was crowding the hospital waiting room. Hugs were exchanged and Aaron had handed a still sleeping Jack off to JJ.

Everyone waited in tense silence, not knowing quite what to say.

“I’m scared out my mind, Dave,” Aaron confines to him. “I can’t lose her. I’ve been through too much already. And Jack, God it would crush him if anything happened to her.”

“I think he’s waking up,” JJ whispers.

“Dad?” He asks in a daze as he wakes. “Miss JJ? Where are we?” He questions now aware of the unfamiliar surroundings.

Coming over to squat down in front of him, Aaron does his best to explain.

“Well buddy, this morning mom got sick, so we brought her to the hospital, and the doctors are taking good care of her.”

“Is she going to be okay?” he inquires. “And my baby sister?”

“I hope so, the doctors are working really hard to make mom better okay?”

“Daddy, we should say a prayer for Mama,” Jack responds. “And my baby sister too.”

“I think that’s a great idea, Jack,” Aaron responds, as he quickly turns away to wipe a tear.

The whole group gathered closely around Jack and Aaron. Everyone took turns saying prayer for the health and well being of Y/N and her unborn daughter.

Moments after the last amen was said; just when Aaron thought he would die if he waited a moment longer, a doctor came through the doors.

“Mr. Hotchner?”

Aaron stood, bracing himself for the news.

“Is it alright if I speak in front of the group?”

“Yes, they’re family. Please, just— do you have news about my wife?”

“Sir,” the doctor continues with a look of concern. “You all may want to sit down for this.”

——————————————————————————

Tag list: @ange-must-die @agenthotchner @moonstuffsteve @poetsacademia @hotchners-slut @arganfics @ladyreapermc @rousethemouse @less-intelligent-spencerreid @tgibstan @themanip @word-scribbless @quillvine @glizzieborden @miss-united-ace @samayoshito

#aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #thomas gibson imagine #thomas gibson x reader #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner #1 800 aaron hotchner

354 notes · View notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 3 years

Text

Domesticated Drabble

Pairing: Bang Chan x Y/N

Genre: Marriage AU; Sequel; Drabble

Warnings: So. Much. Fluff. (small smut scene at the beginning); language

Request:

A/N: Finally finished this one! Please enjoy another taste of my favorite AU!

5 Years Later

“We’ve got five minutes,” I whispered against the pulse point on Chan’s neck, the throbbing vein pumping hard as he panted for breath from above me, eyes shut tight together as he moaned.

“I’ll blow at any second,” Chan cursed, laying sloppy kisses wherever he could reach while fucking me hard and fast.

“Your cock feels amazing,” I practically purred, digging sharp nails into the milky white skin of his back, legs closing in around his waist to keep him close.

“Oh, sweetie, you’re laying it on thick this morning, aren’t you?”

I clenched a vice-grip around the length pumping inside me in response, sending Chan’s hips stuttering against my own. “I’ve got kids in the next room who can wake-up at any second. Excuse me for trying to inflate your ego.”

“That’s not the only thing inflating,” Chan gasped, curling his fingers through mine.

“You’re gross,” I huffed, closing my eyes and throwing back my neck as best as I could in this position: laid out under my husband, orgasm approaching at a meteoric-level speed, and sweat coating my skin in a delightful sheen as the muscles around my abdomen worked overtime to milk Chan for everything that he had before the moment was ruined by my kids.

I half-expected them to burst into the room unannounced at any second, oblivious to their parents fucking in much of the same way that created them in the first place. Locked together with limbs intertwining, sucking in each other’s air, and kisses rough and demanding.

Fuck it had been far too long since Chan and I had last done anything even remotely this intimate, and it was still necessary for us to go at it as fast as possible to prevent unwanted eyes from accidentally catching us at the height of our passion.

I couldn’t help but glance at the clock, realizing that we had been fucking for almost ten minutes, and the alarm had been set for 7:00 AM so that I could somehow wrestle my kids together for their first day of school.

Damn, this is gonna turn out to be a very long day.

“Are you close?” I asked Chan, connecting our lips for a sweet kiss since I personally knew that they were a weakness of his.

“Yeah,” he said, features collapsing into a look of pure concentration as a guttural moan found its way crawling up his throat to release itself at the same moment when I could feel his release emptying into the condom separating us from complete skin-to-skin by a thin layer of latex.

But I insisted on wearing them now.

“You’ll cum too, sweetie,” Chan whispered, laving his tongue across the pad of his thumb before reaching down to connect with my clitoris, drawing rough circles in random patterns to snap the physical breaking point: holding my tongue to prevent myself from screaming as I rode the waves of pleasure until nothing was left but a delicate haze and the sensation of Chan’s cock still stuffed inside my spent pussy.

As it turns out, aftercare with Chan was the equivalent of my husband spewing my praises while insisting on letting his cock soften completely before pulling out: cock warming at its finest.

“Do you plan to pull out?” I asked him, smirking when he whined and buried his face into the side of my neck.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been like this,” Chan remarked.

“The kids need to get up soon,” I said, although there was a sleepy pull weighing down my eyelids. A good fuck tended to wear me out. “They’ve got their first day.”

“Yeah,” Chan agreed, but he made no effort to separate us. In fact, I could imagine us both easily falling back to sleep.

“You’re coming right?” I asked around a yawn. “To their Kindergarten orientation or whatever the hell they call it.”

“Of course,” Chan said, and he finally lifted his head from my shoulder, gaze soft as he took his time to explore my features. “I can’t miss that.”

“What? Watching the teachers drag them away for the first day of the education system they’ll be stuck in for the next thirteen years?”

“You have a way with words, sweetie.”

I grinned. “Maybe I’m just using words to deny the weirdness of my kids starting school and making me feel like I’m 100 years old.”

“It feels like they were just born,” Chan agreed, and he slowly rose himself into a sitting position, climbing out of bed to give me the best view of his naked ass.

“Your ass looks great by the way.”

“Thanks,” Chan snorted, reaching for a pair of black slacks from the floor. “I’m taking a shower.”

“Fine,” I groaned. “I guess I’ll go awaken the sleeping monsters.”

“Let the chaos begin,” Chan announced, closing the bathroom door behind him as I reached down deep into the reserves to muster enough energy to finally get out of bed.

At the risk of sounding too long-winded, the best way I could describe my twins was with a touch of irony. Because, despite looking identical to one another, my girls couldn’t be more opposite in terms of personality.

Leah, the eldest by one minute, was boisterous, loud, and unapologetic when it came to being herself. She was the epitome of a social butterfly, jumping from one person to the next and asking questions that occasionally raised a few eyebrows because of their brazenness.

Her sister, Rose, was nothing like that. In fact, Rose hardly spoke at all, choosing to listen instead, and offer her voice only when she truly felt the need to include it. Of course, side-by-side, they were another thing altogether, far too energetic for me to handle.

This morning was no exception, chasing Leah around the house because she refused to change out of her pajamas, questioning me relentlessly on why it mattered that she had to change.

“I should wear what I want!” she insisted, and I had nearly lost my patience with her until Chan entered the room, and he was one of the only people who could talk through to Leah.

Him and Felix, of course.

Before Felix moved out, he and Leah were practically inseparable, and I could see her uncle’s influence in a lot of different ways.

“You want to look your best to make new friends, right?” Chan asked her, and after a laughable look of concentration, Leah nodded and allowed me to change her into a much more suitable dress.

“There,” I grumbled, turning my attention to Rose who was more willing to be dressed.

“Let’s go have breakfast, yeah?” Chan whispered to Leah, and she smiled and giggled at her father as he took her hand and led her into the kitchen.

I scoffed at how easy he was able to manage her, glancing at Rose who was even more quiet than usual. “Aren’t you excited for your first day?”

She shrugged, looking down at her hands. “I don’t want to leave you.”

I could feel my heart breaking at her sweet words, cupping her face between my hands as I tried to reassure her that she would still see me in the afternoons and evenings. “It’s just a little break,” I said, but I knew that Rose was harder to convince.

In the meantime, Chan and I worked together to have both twins fed and ready to leave the house, packing them lunches for school before ushering everyone out the door because we were teetering on the edge of being too late.

At least Chan had the wherewithal to warm-up the car, and it gave us more time to fasten everyone into their car-seats before pulling out onto the main road, speeding into the downtown district with the clock ticking away. “Well, at least the other parents will think we’re irresponsible.”

“I’ve got this,” Chan said, and I shivered as he toed the gas and grazed just going over too fast.

“At the risk of getting a ticket-”

“Relax, sweetie,” Chan interrupted, reaching over to take my hand. “I’ll handle everything.”

“Uh-huh,” I murmured, glancing up into the rearview mirror to see Leah and Rose engaged in their learning tablets. Even if they were a few minutes late, my kids would still be the smartest. I had made sure of that, spending countless hours with them reading as many books as I could buy, digging out paper and pencils to practice their names and alphabet letters, and reading tons of online articles about the best methods to ensure your child’s early learning set them up for the most success.

Right? So what if we were a little late.

“Mommy? Why can’t you both stay with us at school?” Rose suddenly inquired from the backseat.

I sighed, turning around to face her. “Mommy and Daddy both have to go to work, okay? We’ve already had our turn at school.”

“Our turn?” Chan chuckled, and I pivoted in my seat to glare at him.

“That’s the kind of language we should be using with them!”

“Did you read that from an online expert?”

“As a matter of fact, I did!” I huffed, and I caught his smile, letting me know that he was just messing around.

“I just want them to do well,” I whispered, and his expression instantly softened at the sound of my tone.

“You’ve done so well, sweetie,” Chan reassured me, squeezing my hand even tighter as he turned into the school’s parking lot, finding an empty spot near the back.

Immediately, I was at the back door, reaching inside to help Rose out of her seat, spinning her around to help her with her brand new bookbag. “There,” I said, once her attention was on me again. “You’re ready.”

“I don’t know...” Rose trailed off, and her eyes held all the uncertainty of a five-year-old who was used to staying at home with her parents and uncle. Not the unfamiliar presences of her peers.

“Hey,” I said, kneeling down to meet her gaze straight-on. “I know it seems scary, but I promise that you’ll really love it. I was the same way too on my first day, but my mom gave me the same advice, and guess what? She was right. I ended up loving school, and if there’s a little piece of me in you, then I know that you’ll have so much fun that you’ll forget all about your mommy and daddy.”

Rose’s eyes grew bigger, shaking her head in a manner that was quite endearing. “I won’t ever forget you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” I said, pulling her close for a hug as Chan and Leah emerged from the other side.

“Everything okay?” Chan asked, looking between me and his daughter.

“Just fine,” I said, ruffling Rose’s hair before standing tall again. “Let’s go inside.”

The classroom was already full of students, and I was glad to see some parents lingering, which meant we weren’t as late as I had thought.

“Told ya,” Chan snickered, and I gave him a playful glare before turning my attention to the approaching teacher: an older gentleman with a head of pepper and salt colored hair and kind eyes.

“Hello,” he said, addressing me first. “I’m Mr. Park.”

“Hi,” I said, accepting his handshake. “These are my daughters: Leah and Rose Bang.”

“Ah!” Mr. Park remarked, glancing down. “I’m excited for our twin students! Please, have a seat wherever you’d like.”

“Go on,” I encouraged them when I caught their matching looks of insecurity. “You have each other,” I added, reaching down to wrap their fingers together, giving them one last smile before Leah bravely led her sister further into the room, selecting an empty table near the back.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you,” Mr. Park said, and I noticed that he had grown a little too close, gaze lingering for far too long.

“Yes,” I agreed, “And this is my-”

“I’m Chan,” my husband interrupted, inserting himself between me and Mr. Park with a brusque movement. “The father.”

I rolled my eyes at his tone, watching as Mr. Park hesitated before nodding and shaking Chan’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you.”

I smirked, waiting until Mr. Park had moved on before leaning in to Chan. “What was that, dear?”

Chan scoffed, searching the room for a moment. “He was flirting with you, sweetie. What did you expect me to do?”

“Well, it could be from our morning romp, but it kinda turned me on.”

Chan raised a suggestive brow at my comment, but I gave him a cheeky smile in response before walking in the direction of Leah and Rose’s table. “Look at you two,” I remarked. “I think you made a good choice.”

“I like seeing outside,” Leah said, and I nodded and tucked away a wayward strand of hair.

“You’ll both stay together, right?”

I received synchronous nods in response, and there was a lot of relief on my end knowing that my girls would be just fine.

“We’ll be here to pick you up at 2:00,” Chan said, pointing to the analog clock above the door. “Okay?”

Two more nods. “Remember to have fun. You’re gonna learn so much, and maybe you’ll even be smarter than daddy.”

I managed to elicit two laughs in response to that, and Chan chuckled as he wrapped an arm around my waist. “Be good, alright?”

“Yes, daddy,” Leah replied diligently while Rose nodded her head, attention drifting to a book sitting at the edge of the table.

I smiled knowing that she was showing interest, and then I realized that there was a deeper part of me that was having just as much trouble leaving the girls as they were having with leaving me and Chan. But the other parents were starting to leave the room, and with one more exchange of our goodbyes, Chan and I were walking away from our girls, keeping our own hands locked together as the door closed behind us.

“Woah,” I sighed once we were outside in the hallway. “That was harder than I expected.”

“It’s a big step,” Chan said, and he wrapped an arm around my waist to pull me closer. “But they’ll be okay because they’re ours.”

“Oh,” I laughed. “Is that so?”

“Of course,” Chan said, giving me a perfectly serious look before a smile overtook his features, and any previous doubts were vanquished by the sincerity in that smile, and I knew that as long as I had Chan, then nothing would ever be too difficult to overcome.

347 notes · View notes

rebrandedbard · 3 years

Text

Gifted Glances Stolen Smiles

wc - 2391

Ao3 link.

Jaskier is trying to get Geralt to smile, but he just can't seem to figure out what it takes, and he maybe gives Geralt a goodnight kiss while he sleeps. In the meantime, Geralt thinks they're already in a relationship that's moving at the speed of a glacier and he's sweet about it.

Did Geralt ever smile, Jaskier wondered? The man was stoic at the best of times, and at the worst, his face was warped with displeasure. It was a treat to see Geralt relaxed: the lines of his wrinkles would soften, his brow unfurrow, and—if Jaskier were very lucky—Geralt would close his eyes and rest awhile, looking nearly content.

Jaskier liked it best when Geralt slept. He was always the last one asleep, the first one awake. It was a rare thing to catch Geralt unconscious, and Jaskier was sure that was by design. But twice he’d woken in the middle of the night and found himself nose to nose with the sleeping witcher. The first time, it had been nearly impossible to see his face in the darkness, but the second, the moon had been almost full, so big and bright, and she’d cast her light upon his face. It was like the light which fell through the windows of a cathedral to embrace the masterworks of great artists upon the altars. And what better pedestal for Geralt than a soft pillow? If Jaskier had his way, he’d wrap Geralt in the finest linen sheets, lay him on a down mattress, all bathed in lavender for a restful night’s sleep. He wondered what his face would look like then. Beautiful, no doubt.

Geralt had almost seemed to be smiling, softened in sleep. Jaskier had not been able to help himself. He tipped his head forward and placed the gentlest kiss upon his brow; a silent good-night, and a blessing for pleasant dreams. If he tried, Jaskier could trick himself into believing Geralt really did smile after.

Alas, Jaskier lamented: Geralt wasn’t one for smiling. But then again, he’d never been one for talking much either, and the next day he was unusually chatty. Geralt had said, ‘Good morning’ and used up a few of his precious fifty words a day to complain about Jaskier’s breath before breakfast. When they’d sat down to eat, Geralt asked if Jaskier wanted to return to the room, have his sleep out while he went off to see the alderman. A very unusual offer. Geralt often had Jaskier tag along to collect payment, as Jaskier had a persuasive tongue. With Jaskier at his side, Geralt received most of his payment in full.

“Are you trying to trick me, witcher?” Jaskier asked. “Trying to give me the slip and make off while I’m asleep? Tell me, what have you put in my morning tea? Have you spread some sleeping draught on my bread instead of jam?”

He took a great bite, swallowed it down with a monstrous slurp, then pretended to gag. He threw a hand over his forehead and went limp over his plate.

Geralt rolled his eyes and nudged Jaskier’s foot under the table.

“I live!” Jaskier gasped theatrically.

“It’s a miracle,” Geralt deadpanned.

Jaskier grinned and tucked back in, chewing at a more gentlemanly pace. “So. What is it? Have I got bags under my eyes or something? You’re being generous.”

“I just thought you might be tired.”

“Well, that was courteous of you. But rest assured, I am well rested.”

Geralt hummed. He returned to his breakfast without another word, and Jaskier regarded it as a fluke of the early morning.

Until it happened again in the market.

They were returning from their meeting with the alderman—only stiffed by one silver coin—when Jaskier wheedled his way into an extra hour of shopping. Geralt followed along at Jaskier’s side while he flitted from stall to stall, abusing this sudden burst of generosity to have a bit of fun.

“Look at this, Geralt!” Jaskier held up a little floral sachet embroidered with two stars. It was filled with lavender and chamomile, with just a hint of cinnamon.

“This,” he explained, “is a charm for good dreams. See these two stars here? They’re wishing stars. The first grants blessings for good dreams during your first sleep, the second for your second. You see, most charms try to lay a sort of blanket-blessing for the whole night, which is why they never work. My grandmother made one of these for me when I was little and she used both stars. I never had a poor night’s sleep with it under my pillow.”

“Hm.” Geralt picked up the sachet, examining it with an amused expression.

Jaskier liked when Geralt looked smug. It was not the smile he truly wanted, but anything like a smile was a blessing to see. He was always glad when Geralt enjoyed himself.

Geralt dangled the little sachet in front of Jaskier’s nose, swinging it slightly. “And how did you sleep last night? Are you in need of a sleeping charm?” he asked.

Jaskier stiffened. That made twice that Geralt had suggested sleeping poorly. Jaskier had been sure he’d been asleep, but now he had an inkling that he was being made the fool. He lightly tugged the sachet from his hand and returned it to the stall.

Geralt resumed his silence after they left the market.

That night, Jaskier slept with his back to Geralt. He thought he could feel Geralt’s eyes on the back of his head long after they snuffed the candle. He nearly jumped when he felt the arm wrap around his waist.

Geralt pulled him to his chest and spoke in his ear. “Calm down,” he murmured. “You’re thinking too loudly. I can’t sleep.”

Jaskier nodded, heart racing with nervous energy.

“This too,” Geralt said, placing a hand over the thrumming in his chest.

“I’m afraid that’s out of my hands.”

“It’s in mine. So relax. You have nothing to fear with me.”

That was … a strange sort of comment. Strange, and oddly calming. Jaskier played them over in his head, imagining them in a new context. He closed his eyes, taking in the feeling of Geralt wrapped around him, warm and steady. Geralt’s breath tickled his neck. And yes, Geralt had his hand over his heart. His heart was, in many ways, in Geralt’s hand.

Jaskier smiled, cracking an eyes to look up at the moon. “I’m not afraid of any werewolves sniffing about tonight if that’s what you were thinking.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Hm. So what do you think I’m afraid of?”

Geralt only hummed in reply.

Jaskier turned under Geralt’s arm. “Oh no, I said ‘hm’ first. You have to say something else. I already used it in this conversation.”

“Hm,” Geralt replied again, a funny little smirk on his face.

“I’ll smother you,” Jaskier threatened, putting a hand on Geralt’s pillow to make good.

But Geralt took the hand from under his head and wrapped it around Jaskier’s. “Wish you would,” he murmured.

“Come now, Geralt. The pay wasn’t that bad. And I don’t really mean to suffocate you; you don’t have to hold me back.”

“You need more sleep. You’re slow-witted today.”

Jaskier frowned. “And what do you mean by that?”

“Go to sleep, Jaskier.”

So he did, and things were relatively normal as the week progressed. Evidently, Jaskier looked rested enough, and Geralt no longer felt the need to make comments. Perhaps that had been all. Jaskier had to admit, he was tired. Or perhaps it was more convenient to pretend. He didn’t like thinking that Geralt had woken, and he didn’t believe Geralt would toy with him.

They were on the path again, and Jaskier returned to his musing. What, he wondered, would make Geralt smile? He told jokes at the tavern at the next town, hoping to steal one little grin. Now and then he cast a look over his shoulder to see if Geralt might laugh, but after the first few jokes he had to concede. He spent the rest of comedy hour focusing on his circle of patrons, laughing and drinking while he waited for Geralt to finish his lunch.

In the evening, he worked the same crowd, hopping round and round in a dance as he played his songs. He played a few songs Geralt had deemed not horrendously irredeemable in the past to see if that might do the trick, then tossed in a few cheeky verses of ‘Fishmonger’s Daughter’ for good measure. He bought Geralt an extra ale. A second plate.

Geralt never did smile, but at least he looked pleased.

When Jaskier had a moment spare, he brushed Roach and polished her tack. It would seem this quest of his was never-ending. All month long he’d been asking himself the question, and honestly, his efforts were uninspired. He wasn’t doing anything more or less than what he would normally do, sprinkling in little treats here and there which he thought Geralt might enjoy. There wasn’t anything special in it. The lack of imagination bothered Jaskier and he knew that if he wanted Geralt to smile, he would have to think of something bigger, grander!

But Geralt was different. Geralt didn’t mull over these things. It was surprising, yes, when Geralt went out of his way to do things for him, but he didn’t agonize over doing them. As easily as Geralt set his bags down at the campfire, he might place an apple by Jaskier’s elbow. The day might be long, but Geralt would set up camp at midday to let them rest, just when Jaskier was aching for a good lie down.

Jaskier lay awake after his first sleep some nights, watching him, thinking it over. The more Jaskier thought about it, the more he became aware of the little things Geralt did. They were more frequent now. At least once a day, Geralt did something to make him smile. All Jaskier wanted was to do the same.

What, Jaskier asked himself. What would make him smile?

He stood in the tailor’s mirror, asking himself the question once more as he adjusted his new doublet. He turned this way and that, plucking at the sleeves. It would be autumn soon enough, and he needed to dress for the season. He thought a nice red would do.

Geralt sat on a stool to one side, a new cloak folded upon his lap. It was Jaskier’s treat for the day, and he had bullied Geralt into accepting it.

Jaskier’s eyes flicked to the side of the mirror. He hoped he might steal a glance of Geralt smiling at the new cloak. It was a black wool, lined with soft fleece. It was still a bit early to wear anything so heavy, but Geralt was always telling him to think ahead. This village was known for their particular breed of sheep, and the coin was good, so Jaskier thought it wise to invest in the warmest, softest wool in the east. Silently, Jaskier dared anyone to try and find a more thoughtful gift than that! It was a smart gift, he thought, and to his great shock, he saw it at last.

Geralt was smiling, a real, true smile. Not a smile born of politeness, nor a wry grimace, not a smirk, but a genuine smile. But Geralt was not looking at the cloak.

Geralt caught Jaskier’s eye in the mirror.

Jaskier turned and said, “You’re smiling.”

“I do that,” he replied.

“Not often. I hardly ever see it.”

Great shrugged. “You’re too busy most of the time.”

“I’ve been trying to catch you smiling all month long! I’ve been constantly vigilant. How could I be too busy?”

“You’re singing. You’re talking and dancing, writing. Having fun. I like to watch you do it,” Geralt answered. “Almost as much as you like to watch me sleep.”

Jaskier flushed. “You know about that?” he asked.

Geralt stood, setting the cloak aside, and crossed the room to stand beside him. “I don’t mind. It’s no different from my watching you.” As he spoke, he carefully slipped his hand into Jaskier’s. “I understand if you still want to move slowly, but some nights I wish that you would kiss me again. I thought you were trying to tell me you were ready for more.”

Jaskier’s heart stopped.

Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s shoulders, looking at their reflection in the mirror. “Even so,” he said, leaning his head against Jaskier’s cheek, “I’m happy where we are now. I’m all in, Jaskier. However long it takes, I don’t mind waiting.”

“Waiting?” Jaskier squawked. He did not currently have the capacity to process everything Geralt had said, and Geralt had said quite a lot—very plainly spoken—in less than a minute.

Geralt nodded. “As long as you need.”

“You’ve been waiting on me. Waiting for me to … I beg your pardon, but did you say you wanted me to kiss you?”

“I did.”

Jaskier’s limp hands remembered themselves. They rose to cover over Geralt’s arms. Jaskier simply gaped into the mirror. Slowly, a smile lit up his eyes.

“Hey, Geralt?” he said.

“Hm.”

“I bet you a gold coin I know a way, guaranteed, to make you smile again on command.”

Geralt chuckled. “You’re broke.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m guaranteed to win.”

“Given your tone, I have a funny idea I’m about to win something as well.”

Jaskier turned in Geralt’s arms and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Geralt hummed. “I love being right,” he said.

“And what else do you love, my dear?” Jaskier brought a hand up to curl a teasing finger around Geralt’s long white hair. He felt giddy and silly. He wanted to dance and sing and act a fool, then leap into Geralt’s arms. But never mind the leaping; at that very moment, he was right where he wanted to be.

Geralt shushed him. Slowly, he unwrapped himself from Jaskier and walked back to the stool. He picked up the cloak and wrapped it around himself, after which he bumped Jaskier out of the mirror to have a look.

“My new cloak,” he answered.

Jaskier laughed and bumped him back. “I have excellent taste.”

“You do.” And Geralt adjusted Jaskier’s ruffled tie.

They stood together, side by side in the mirror, stealing glances at one another. No, not stealing, Jaskier realized, for this was allowed. He would not steal glances this day forward. From now on, they would be a gift. So he gifted Geralt with another glance and winked.

And Geralt smiled.

#drabbles #my fic #witcher #the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #this is just pure fluff

112 notes · View notes

sunnynii · 2 years

Text

Smitten

a/n: recently I ordered a comfort letter from a favorite character of mine, but it wasn't as promising as I had hoped. So I decided to try this for myself, with none other than the man of romance himself :)

tags: fluff, some suggestiveness, a bit of comedic touch, kaeya x gn!reader

image credit

context: Enjoy this letter from kaeya, to you, as you're out on the road adventuring while he's in his office in the Knights of Favonius Headquarters.

My dearest love,

I know it's been quite some time since I've last sent you a note like this, and I can already feel the ringing in my ear from your voice bouncing around as you scold me, but fret not because I adore the sound of your voice (even as it's complaining and whining). Heh, you know this is all in good fun, because all are privy to how perceptive you are, and how quickly you're able to tell when I'm hiding the content I feel in those moments. It's one of your habits I can never seem to escape, try as I might, you just seem to always see right through any charade I put up.

I do miss the feel of having you nearby, flitting about the room and touching the little knickknacks i keep on my shelves and desk as I work, picking up stray pages off the ground and making side comments about the mess that's always in here. Which, might I add, may or may not be cleaned up as of this moment. What can I say? You've rubbed off on me~

It's not the way you would organize things though, and I can't exactly place my finger on it, but something's off about the way I've done it, as if it's missing your touch. Although I too, miss your touch, and you can interpret that as you wish.

Yes yes, I know it is I who usually initiates the all the teasing and touches, but let's ignore that for now shall we?

But alas, my darling love, none of these words can fully relate how much admiration I have for you. Sleeping without you by my side these past couple of days has been just absolutely horrid, and that's without what you'd call "my usual dramatics". It's difficult not having you there, feeling your warmth as you ask for those extra few minutes. Little do you know, I was planning on asking the same. I truly never can get enough of how perfect you feel against me, how beautiful you look. The morning sunshine always seems to bless you in the earliest moments, as if you were the sun god themself. I've often reached my arms out to pull you close to me, only to find nothing but empty space, and it's because of this that I can't help but count down the days until I can sweep you up into my arms once more.

Although my longing for you is as evident as the sky is blue, I do take pride in knowing my beloved spouse is out there exploring to their heart's content, doing what they love most with that determination that none can shake. You are such a powerful being, my dear. It's quite attractive~, while it is also very admirable. The way you handle yourself, and the way you fight fills me with a sense of reassurance that you will indeed come back home to me. Your independence will always be something that I adore and encourage, as this was apart of the person I fell in love with (as begrudgingly as we did, considering how often we used to be at each other's throats. You were such a feisty woman and were so intent on hiding how in love with me you were. It's quite amusing to reminisce on , don't you think?).

Ever the strong vixen that you are, please do remember to take care of yourself my sweet. Try not to forget that in order to be at your best, as you so often boast about being, you need to stay healthy. Drink to your hearts content and eat all of the foods you find along the way, and maybe even tell me about them in the next letter you write me? I would very much enjoy hearing about the different palettes you've encountered, and the different beasts you've tamed.

That being said, I wish not to keep you from your fun any longer, so I shall continue to dream of you in the meantime, until I can once again show you just how smitten with you I am, and always have been (Even as you threatened to throw me to the pack in Wolvendom for stealing your belongings countless times). Expect nothing but the most chivalrous of displays when I hear of your return, I'll be one of the first to greet you and of course, the only one to capture your lips with my own. I love you, to the ends of the many realms and back, and I would gladly shout it from the tops of the towers here in Mondstadt if needed. I adore you, and every part of that delectable enrapturing body of yours. You may be the fire to my ice, but you warm even the farthest depths of my soul in the most pleasurable of ways. Never forget how closely I hold you in my heart, my beloved partner. I bid you a good evening, night, or morning and hope when you read this, you think of me as well.

Yours truly (and forever),

Kaeya Alberich <3

#kaeya x reader #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya is husband material #genshin fluff #kaeya x gn reader #i love kaeya <3 #he's so dreamy #sigh #kaeya fluff

19 notes · View notes

inkofyoonkoo · 2 years

Text

I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in | Teaser

I know I'm a ghost and I should focus on my WIP, but I swear I'm writing and as soon as this oneshot is finished I'll go back to them. For the moment, please have this tiny snippet absolutely not edited and subjected to very possible changes! Also, please burn your eyes enjoy this awful banner that doesn't make sense at all, but it actually does if you read the story 💔

(a very few info about it: there’s a 10-years age gap between the characters, but everyone is of age; character death; it’s not a carefree story -even if I’m trying to keep a lighthearted style! I don’t know what’s gotten in my mind but I needed to write something bittersweet 💔)

P.s. to the very kind people who left me a nice comment on the last chapter of "I'm on the run" or any other story here or on AO3/Wattpad and are still waiting for a reply: I'M SORRY! I swear I've read you a dozen of times, but between the holidays and taking care of my new house I don't have much free time (adulting sucks 😊). In the meantime, THANK YOU. I love you a whole lot 💓💓💓

You know it. The acquaintance the pair of you are nurturing day by day shattered somewhere, in a place so distant you can't easily reach to patch it up with a stitch of two.

After all, Jungkook is just a boy.

He doesn't know what it means to love someone with deep passion and end up on your own, carrying on your shoulders a tons of projects you'll never be able to fulfill because they seem perfect only with the person who left you behind. Maybe… Jungkook is getting tired to spend-waste his time with a woman who has more sad days than happy ones -actually, he's probably regretting the day he decided to let your lives intertwine.

You hope he is...

"I'm sorry," you start, feebly. Jungkook doesn't look at you. "I really am. You should… you should be having fun at the festival. You could meet many guys your age." You bend your legs close to your chest, circling them with your arms. "You'd have much more fun there," you mumble, resting your chin on your knees.

Jungkook taps a finger on the bowl, the fishes dash away. "It's ok. I'm having fun here, too."

You turn to him, cheek adhering to your knees. Through your lashes, Jungkook looks like a disappointed kid who can't catch the attention of the two gold fishes swimming in a circle; deep inside your heart, you're aware that it's you, the main cause of his disappointment.

"Fireworks are about to start," you continue, ignoring his previous statement. Jungkook inhales sharply through his nose. "If you go now, you're still on time--"

"I said it's ok," he interrupts, pouty, "It's ok. I want to stay here, with you." Words fly out in a whispered hush, graze your spine in shivers. "I'm having fun with you, (Y/N). It's just…" he straightens himself, his hands flickering in the air. "I'd like to do more. You don't seem happy… never." His stare now trails to you, but there's no trace of boredom or annoyance in his doe eyes; the only visible crack is sadness, and it pinches your sense of guilt. "Are you happy, (Y/N)?"

You don't know if he's referring to the moments you've shared up to now, or in general. Whatever it is, you don't reply.

In all honesty, you aren't. For a very long time now. But… you sometimes are. There are little, quick-whispered moments in which your brain forgets about Namjoon and life seems a wonderful journey to discover again: when Jin spills one of his awful jokes, exhaling his windshield laugh; when he bumps into your house without warning, bringing a dish he personally cooked for you. When Yoongi delivers you his gummy smile; when he calls you in the middle of the night because he needs some advice. When Hoseok calls you only to make sure that you're doing fine; when he sends you souvenirs from all the places he's visiting. When Yoongi and Jin's mothers invite you to have some tea with them. When Jungkook… is here.

Jungkook, waiting for you on the other side of the street, throwing rocks to entertain Bam. Jungkook, inviting you to have a walk together. Jungkook, showing up at your place with cans of beer and the proposal of a movie night made of trashy Z-movie. Jungkook, sitting on your sofa while watching cartoons and commenting out loud, Bam and Moon resting their muzzles on his thighs. Jungkook, letting out his airy laughter. Jungkook, bending down while drawing random sketches in his notebook.

Jungkook… just him.

"I am. Sometimes…" you manage to say, still affected by your own thoughts revolving around the boy.

"But you were more with your husband." It's not a question, the next comment tumbling off his mouth. You stiffen. It's like Jungkook immediately caught the reason behind the perpetual winter that's conditioning your life. "Would you be happier if he came back?" He hesitates, almost scared about the consequences his words might trigger. "If you miss him so much, you should tell him. Maybe you can solve things and he'll be back." A light grimace crosses his face, but he goes back to scrutinizing the fishes before you could actually notice it.

"It's complicated." You brush your thumb on your wedding ring. "I feel like I'm suffocating when I miss him."

"What do you miss the most?"

The question is easy; the answer should be even more. His smile accompanied by two adorable dimples; his low voice; his chuckle; his hand resting upon your forehead when you used to use his lap as a pillow while he was reading; the passion dancing along his voice when he explained to you topics he loved; his: "I love you" blurted out when you least expected it, breathed out like they never weighed upon his heart...

"Small things. Things I only knew," you say, instead. Your heart quivers, he's the first you're revealing this. "Like… he couldn't dance well. But he always used to pull me into an awkward dance party while we were cooking. He was so clumsy. I lost count of how many things he broke because he accidentally hit them." You let out a chuckle, Jungkook gives you a little smile. "Or when he used to talk to his bonsai every morning. He treated them with so much care, like they were his little children." You swallow, the way his fingers used to caress the tiny leaves appear in the back of your mind. "Or… ahm, he used… since we've started dating, he used to dedicate small poems to me every day. He wrote it on napkins, ripped pieces of paper, sticky notes… I stored them all in a diary." Flush spreads to the tip of your ears, sweetness is dripping in your chest, washing away your sadness. "I haven't read them since he's been gone, but I remember each one of them by heart." Your shaky stare engulfs into his own, dark and intense. "I know that anyone can do these things--"

"But they're special because he was the one doing them," he completes the sentence for you, corners of his mouth quirking up. "I know what you mean." His eyes crinkle in the corners, then he turns toward the fishes.

You stare at him. You'd love to open his skull and catch his train of thoughts -because it really feels like he knows what he's talking about. "Have you ever loved someone like this?"

Jungkook scratches his nape. "Don't know if it's love. But… lately, I think about all the things I love doing alone, and… dunno, it would be nice to do them with her." The moonlight kisses half of his face, you'd like to caress the visible portion and swipe away the sadness sprinkled on it. "Is it love, to you?"

"I don't know. Love is different for everyone. And I'm sure, you'll understand it on your own if it's love or not." You go back to watching in front of you. "Like… There were some things I loved to do on my own, and Namjoon too. But my whole life… I could only picture it beside him."

"And I still do" is left unsaid, but judging from the heavy breath Jungkook just exhaled, he perfectly captured your meaning. It takes him quite a few seconds to stand up, hands brushing on the jeans to clean them. He's about to go away. You aren't surprised at all. He's probably tired of staying here, listening to the words of a woman who can't let go of her husband's memory.

You stare at the garden, the moonlight kissing the plants and flowers. It's interesting this evolution, considering that Jungkook claimed more than once about his incapacity to let his past relationships grow in something deeper; you'd like to tell him that he's just to give himself time and be patient, that someday he'll meet a person and all the pieces will go to their right places on their own. That he's an incredible boy, and you're sure that the person he'll love with a passion of a thousand suns will be the luckiest soul on Earth--!

The screeching sound of footsocks pressing on the wood sends shivers down your spine, all your whirling thoughts sinking into oblivion. Cold wraps around your bones. You're used to people coming and going. Jungkook isn't different from all the men who came after Namjoon. Jungkook is…

Jungkook stays. He's standing there, across from you, hands curling around the hem of his t-shirt. He sits down, using his crossed feet like a cushion, fists laying on his lap.

"I envy your husband," he blows out, with an honesty that makes your muscles tense all at once. "You've got such beautiful eyes when you talk about him. Or when you… think of him." He scratches his head. "I wonder if I'll ever find someone who will look at me like this."

"You will."

He hesitates, nose scrunching a little. "And… What if the only person I want to look at me like this will never do it?" His question lingers between the pair of you like a broken melody out of tune, drenched with an awareness that rips your heart apart.

You shift your stare on his face, scrutinizing the sombre expression dancing across his features. You're about to tell him that he should go. Panic cripples up your heart and you want to tell him to go. To go back to when he was a stranger and you were the only person treating him like he was invisible. To go back to the big city and live his life at his fullest and--!

A sudden whistle pierces through the silence, capturing your attention. You set your eyes up to the sky, watching a thin sparkling line crossing the dark veil before opening in an ocean of reddish sparks with a blow.

"They started…" you feel guilty. He could've been witnessing them side by side with the other spectators, breathing in the excitement plaguing the atmosphere if you only didn't have a breakdown. "Namjoon loves them so much…"

"I love them too." A small pout tugs at his lips.

"You should turn, then. You're missing a wonderful sight."

"No. I'm not…"

You swallow. Jungkook stretches and you tilt your head back in the slightest, dizzy for his warm breath fanning against your mouth. "I… I'll go away this weekend. I promise a friend I'll spend it with him," he starts, voice dropping two notches deeper and reverberating through your chest. "But I'll be back on Sunday night. Like, I'm not going away. I'm staying." He breathes in. "So… Monday morning? Same hour?"

Your heart thumps wildly.

You nod, tears threatening to roll down. The way he's treating your encounters like a promise between you two… it's a supernova explosion of tenderness that makes you all warm inside. You tell yourself that Jungkook is acting like this because you're the only one he knows. You try to keep in mind that he's doing it because it's summer, he wants to have fun. You remind yourself that all of this will be over within two months.

Two months…

Jungkook turns to the side, his cheek brushes for a second against yours. He rests his head on your shoulder, wrapping you in a feeble embrace. His breath is a nice sound amidst the explosions of the fireworks, the screaming and laughter of kids playing in the street.

It-he reminds you of happiness.

You can't get used to this.

#I'm also adopting another writing style #can we call it so?#like small scenes and not an ocean of thoughts #if you want to fuel my motivation YOU'RE WELCOME

33 notes · View notes