#its late again at this rate my sleeping patterns will have to do a full circle

[hier--soir]

heart to heart

john price x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: john takes you away for the weekend, and nestled in a cottage on the countryside, you show him just how much you've been missing him. warnings/tags: long term boyfriend!john, john price never finishes his cigars, explicit smut, a little body worship, oral [m receiving], fingering [f], unprotected piv sex, multiple orgasms [m], some overstim [m], come eating x2, brief cock warming, idiots in love, porn with minimal plot. word count: 4.4k masterlist a/n: this was born out of me being physically unable to stop thinking about that middle picture being john price, so here we go follow @hier--soirupdates if you’d like to be notified when i share my writing

It hasn’t rained in six days.

Late autumn spins the countryside in its grasp; a warm cloak that sends the leaves golden and the grass dewy. In a small, unfamiliar kitchen you drop teabags into mugs and gaze out the window. Admire the vast acreage that surrounds the cottage, and the marshland beyond that.

The early morning rays are bright and cool, turning the cabinets a washy yellow colour around you as you wait for the kettle to boil.

Everything is quiet, calm. If you listen closely, past the sound of birds chirping and water bubbling, you can hear John’s heavy snores down the hall; still catching up on sleep after a long few weeks away.

When he came through the front door two nights ago, you’d been quietly surprised to see him home so soon. After not hearing much for almost a month, you’d resigned yourself to getting on with things in his absence. A fairly covert operation, you knew, so you’d spent your days waking to an empty house. Working and eating and showering alone and never exceeding the appropriate number of messages you could send him in one day without stirring worry. Little Angus with his long orange tail and his soft whiskers your only company in John’s stead.

Home at last, he’d wrestled out of his heavy boots and draped himself over where you lay on the couch. Soap opera long forgotten on the tele, he’d slipped an arm around the back of your head, held you to his chest and said, Let me take you somewhere.

The kettle whistles and you pluck it from the stove, still smiling at the memory. Douse the teabags in boiled water and watch as the windows cloud with steam. You leave his black, just the way he likes it, but soften your own with sugar and milk. Your toes are numb against the cool tile, and you rub them against your calf in search of warmth. Inside, your body is at sleepy old war with itself. One half longing to be back in bed, or perhaps to have not gotten up at all yet; the other half taking great pleasure in the mundanity of doing things like this for him again, after so long of not. Tap tap tap of an impatient finger against the counter until his tea turns the perfect colour, and then you’re on your way back to the room.

Leant amongst paisley patterned pillows and white linens, John looks a little out of place knuckling sleep from the corner of his eyes. A little too rough around the edges, too big, too hardened for such soft surroundings. In your brief absence, he’s drawn the curtains and nudged the window beside the bed open a crack. A long arm stretches out toward the sill, ashing a cigar onto the small dish he’s balanced there.

Naked as the day he was born, he lifts the cigar to his lips and blinks drowsily at you. Stretches his legs out, the muscles in his thighs straining, curled toes skimming the end of the bed. Eyes wandering, you kick the door shut with your foot and slink to the end of the bed, holding out his mug.

“’Morning,” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. Accepts the tea with a soft smile, the skin beside his eyes crinkling as he watches you crawl in beside him. Hands full, he twists an ankle around yours, face pulling up at the feel of your cold skin against his. “Jesus, you’re like ice. I’ll shut the window.”

“Don’t move,” you hush, nestling your head against his shoulder. “You’re right where I want you.”

John laughs softly, warm body vibrating against yours. “Is that right, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.” You watch him tap his cigar against the dish, sipping your tea and trailing fingers through the dark hairs on his stomach. Enjoy the way his body draws tense beneath your cool touch, goose flesh sprouting across his skin. “Middle of nowhere… unfamiliar town… no one will ever find you. You’re all mine out here, Price.”  

“M’all yours everywhere,” he says, abandoning his cigar in the dish so he can tug on the neckline of your—his—t-shirt. “This proves it, yeah?”

“I suppose,” you smile, lifting your mug to hide behind a sip. He watches you move, calculating and quiet as he sips his own tea. You fidget beneath the intensity of his stare, painfully aware of how well he knows you. That your want, your need, must be painted across every inch of your face.

“Love you in my clothes, sweetheart, I do.” John’s fingers curl beneath the hem of the shirt then, rough callouses tickling over your collarbones. “But you’re makin’ me feel awful naked.”

Heat flares in the base of your stomach and you chuckle, matching smirks splashed across your faces as you sit up and drag the shirt over your head. He watches as you flick it to the floor, gaze darkening as he looks over your body, focusing on the thin grey panties that cover the skin between your thighs. A thick arm curls around your waist, tugging you back onto him, and as you settle there his fingers slip down to fiddle with the band of your underwear.

“Cute,” he comments airily, middle finger dropping under the band to caress the skin beneath it.

Mug discarded off the side of the bed, you put both hands to his stomach now. Tickling his soft skin, playing with the hair there as you lean in and press a kiss to the centre of his chest. And then another, and another, with John simply humming, palm flattening against the small of your back to hold you against his side.

Your lips part, tongue dancing lazily against his nipple. Soft strokes until the flesh is stiffening and you’re practically purring against his skin, drifting across to the other one. You hear the soft clink of his mug hitting the side table, and then John’s hand falls against the back of your head. Thick fingers twist through your hair, playing as you kiss and lick over his collarbones, and the little tugs he gives have a low throb starting up between your legs.

“Feelin’ needy this mornin’, hey lovey?” John asks. His fingers come to the front of your face, cupping your jaw and forcing you to look up at him. Big blue eyes watch you pout, cheeks squished between his fingers as you nod.

“I missed you,” you say, turning to press your nose into his palm and inhale the smell of him.

His eyes soften, and all sense of teasing seems to slip out the window. “I know, sweetheart, m’sorry. Come here’n give us a kiss.”

His lips are soft against yours. Warm, and familiar, with a hint of Darjeeling. Pulling you up to straddle his waist, he coaxes your chest down against his and huffs into your mouth at the feel of your nipples against his skin, teeth sneaking out to smart at your bottom lip.

“Thought about you every day,” he mumbles against your lips. “Missed you every second, love, always do.”

You feel something hot and sharp spark behind your eyelids at those words, and flick your tongue against the seam of his lips, pushing it away, not now not now. You go soft and pliant against him; let him guide you through the kiss, coaxing your mouth open with his long tongue as his fingers dance down your spine. When his hand reaches the round of your ass he grips your flesh there, kneading it between his fingers and pushing down so your clothed cunt comes flush with his cock.

“Feel that?” John says, pulling away an inch to nose at your cheek. His cock is heavy between your legs, thick and stiff where it presses against the gusset of your panties. You gasp as he rocks his hips up, grinding against you until the damp fabric slips between your slick folds and rubs over your clit. “That’s how much I missed you, sweetheart.”

As he talks, the hairs on his moustache prickle against your lips, and you find yourself opening your mouth. Breathy moans spill as you roll your hips against his, lathing hot opened mouthed kisses over his jaw.

“Looked at your picture every night,” he continues raggedly, breath hitching as you suck at the hollow of his throat. His cock twitches against you, the slide only getting smoother as more slick spills into your panties. “Thought about comin’ home ‘n’ never leavin’ again, just so I could play with this pretty little cunt whenever I like.”

Your hips stutter into his and you whine, a tiny glimpse of an orgasm fluttering through you just from those words.

“S’yours,” you whisper against his skin, the words he spoke moments before dancing through your mind. “All yours everywhere.”

Faster than he can stop you, you’re slipping off his lap and settling beside him on the bed. Continuing the onslaught, you lick hot, messy kisses over the skin of his neck, across the broad span of his shoulders.

“My big man,” you say tenderly, fingers itching their way across his chest. You skirt your teeth down the middle of his sternum, squeaking a little when he murmurs in enjoyment and presses a hand to your ass again. “I missed your body so much.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.”

“Show me then,” he goads lightly, grunting around a smirk when you sink your teeth into the soft flesh over his ribs in response.

His fingers toy with the material of your panties as you drag your tongue over the dip of his belly button, and when you kiss the soft curve of his lower stomach, nose buried in the dark hairs above it, you feel him grip the fabric tight. You can see his cock in your peripheral vision. Swollen and heavy against his hip now. The tip has turned a pretty shade of dark pink, accented by little streaks of white where pre-come oozes from his slit and glides down his throbbing shaft. With your mouth on his belly, you reach out and wrap your fingers around him.

“Fuck,” John grunts, head lolling back against the pillows.

You smile, stroking him slowly as you drag your nose through his thick happy trail, all the way down to nuzzle against the dark thatch of curls above his base. Insistent now, his fingers push beneath the edge of your panties and drag through your slick seam.

You whimper, forehead resting heavily against his skin as he slides two fingers through the wet mess of you. Lewd sounds of your arousal fill the room as John traces featherlight circles around your clit, and your face heats against his stomach, fingers returning to their lazy pace around his length.

The throb between your legs has become a second heartbeat now, so strong that you’re sure he must feel it beneath his fingertips. If he does, he just sighs softly. Lets the thrumming of your cunt sync with the pulse in his fingertips, heart to heart, and murmurs low encouragements as you tilt your head to the side and begin mouthing at his cock.

“Missed my cock.” Your voice is low and unfamiliar in your ears, mouth overrun with desire and spilling your guts before you can stop it. “So pretty, John…”

Circling your entrance with a thick finger, he just says, “I know, love, s’yours. Go on.”

As slow as you can bring yourself to be, you lay gentle kisses down the entire length of him. Wetting your lips and gliding them over his warm, silken skin, before dipping lower and sucking his balls between your lips. A harsh grunt sounds behind you, and, as if in retaliation, he sinks two thick fingers inside you. You moan around his sensitive skin, holding his balls in your mouth and jerking him off until he’s trembling beneath you, broad thighs straining as he tries to hold himself together.

“That’s good, love,” he murmurs softly, almost speaking to himself as he curls his fingers inside you, humming when you grind into his hand. “Need ta get my fuckin’ mouth on you.”

But you just shake your head. Let his balls slip from your mouth with a soft pop before sticking out your tongue and guiding the weeping tip of his cock towards your mouth. Hasty, too needy for your own good, you slip your lips around him and try to take him deep on the first pass. Out of practice after weeks away, your throat constricts and you choke a little around him. So big, so overbearing, you’re too eager to be filled by him that you push and push until you’re gagging and sputtering. Cheeks hot and eyes downturned, you draw back, skin prickling as you hear him say something past the rushing in your ears. Take a moment to catch your breath and ground yourself, fingers tight on his thigh as your tongue swirls around his tip.

“This what you missed then?” he’s saying, collecting your hair in his fist to keep it off your face. “Hm, missed bein’ all full of me?”

“Mhm,” you hum around him, pulling back with a gasp only to press his head against your cheek. Eyes closed, you rub his ruddy tip against your chin, your lips, painting your skin with his precome. Feel the weight of him warm your skin and sigh in quiet delight. And when he groans, exhaling a heavy, ragged breath, you press your mouth around him again, desperate to hear him make that sound over and over again.

“Easy, darlin’, lemme see you,” John chokes out, thumbing sliding over the apple of your cheek. “So pretty with your lips around my cock.”

Heat floods your chest, and you drool around him. The words seem to trigger something in your mind, some insatiable desire to please, to make him feel good, because you’re relaxing, sinking your mouth down further on him. A low, drawn-out curse falls from his lips, fingers curling in the hair behind your ear.

Gaudy sounds of sucking and slurping fill your ears, and you would be self-conscious if it weren’t for the way John’s growls met them in the air. Wordlessly, he slips a third digit inside and the stretch brings a dull burn that has your mouth slowing against him.

Your eyelids flutter as his thick fingers stroke at your walls, searching for the spot that makes you spill every time, but your wanton cries of desperation are muffled by the heavy weight of him on your tongue. In slow, measured movements, he begins to shift his hips in time with your head. Feeding his cock to you and grunting when he feels your throat go soft and easy around him, letting him slip further in until your nose buries in the hair at his base.

John watches you, the blue in his eyes almost entirely swallowed by desire fattened pupils. Rakes his gaze over the way your lips stretch around his thick cock, tears dancing on your lashes as you take him in your throat. The heady taste of him is intoxicating, and you can only hold his gaze for so long before your eyes are rolling back, stomach pulling tight as you swallow around him.

Stuffed to the brim with John, John, John. He’s everywhere, filling your mouth, your aching cunt; it sends your heart racing, thighs trembling as your orgasm begins to crest.

Molten heats swims in the base of your stomach, curling and bubbling there as he you ride his long fingers, moaning his name around his cock. But just as you feel everything begin to go tight and tingly, John’s pulling on your hair and dragging you off him.

A thin strand of spit dangles between his tip and your mouth and he snarls at the sight, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Fuck, c’mere,” he huffs, squeezing insistently at your shoulders. “Wanna feel you on my cock when you come for me, yeah?”

Mind a hazy blur, you let the weight of him fall from your mouth, the hinge of your jaw still burning as you peel your underwear down your legs and spread yourself over his lap. John doesn’t pull his hand away though. No, he keeps his fingers between your legs, pumping them in and out, slowly, as you hover over his cock.

“My girl,” he says, eyes focusing on where the puffy lips of your cunt almost touch his cock. “My filthy, sweet girl.”

“John,” you puff his name, abdomen tensing when he rubs his thumb against your clit. Balanced on your knees and the tips of your toes, your legs shake a bit. Fingers dance forward to touch his shoulder, desperate for an anchor.

You frown a little, swollen lips parted in a torturous mix of desire and confusion, but he just offers a filthy grin and says, “Tell me you missed me again.”   

“Oh, fuck off,” you smart instinctually, lips twitching when he barks a laugh and slips his fingers from your wet clutch, grasp drifting to your waist. “Please.”  

“There she is,” he rumbles, jaw tensing as you glide his tip through your folds, coating him in your slick. A heavy rush of air spills from his nose. “My impatient girl.”

Once he’s got you on his cock, it doesn’t take long for you to fall apart.  

He lets you keep having it your way for a bit. Watches, gaze heavy, as you bounce on his cock, hands gripping his shoulders for leverage. You squirm on him, face twisted up as you adjust to the thick stretch of him after so long. It burns and aches between your thighs, but you can’t help but keep coming back for more, sinking down on his length faster each time. He tilts his head forward to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning against the plush of your breast when you arch your back, crying out at the feeling of his teeth on the sensitive bud.

After a while he slots his greedy lips against yours. Presses hot, sucking kisses to your mouth, swallowing down every gasp and moan that crawls its way up your chest. The bristles of his facial hair scratch at your cheeks, your nose, and you love it. Have desperately missed the way it warms your skin as he presses his tongue inside your mouth and tastes behind your teeth.

Using his hold on your hips, he rolls you against his lap. Meets you thrust for thrust until you start to soak his length, jaw going slack as he growls into your open mouth.

“Fuckin’ hell, love, that’s it,” John groans, fingers tightening on your waist as your cunt pulls tight and hot around him. Thighs shaking, you let your forehead fall against his chest and ride out the flood of your orgasm. “I know, darlin’, I know, I’ve got you.”

Fingers fly up to grip the back of your neck, his other arm snaking around your waist as he continues fucking up into you. His cock presses hot and heavy into that soft, gushy spot deep inside you and you shudder against him, helpless little moans slipping from your parted lips. Face smushed against his hairy chest, you drool a little. Feel it pool between his pecs and smear across your cheek as your eyes roll back, dopamine pounding in your veins as he pushes you relentlessly through the high.

“Gonna let me fill you up?” he’s panting, feet planted on the bed now as he bucks into you, hips stuttering as he sinks closer and closer to his end. “Fuck, I’m gonna make a right mess of you, darlin’. That’s it, lovey, show me that pretty face.”

“John,” you mewl, toes curling against the sheets. “Shit, oh shit.”   

“Christ,” he grunts when you meet his eyes, jaw pulled tight. “So tight, m’ gonna come—”

“Wait,” you mumble suddenly, senses sharpening despite the way your thighs still shake against his hips. John stills immediately, grip tightening on your waist. “In my mouth, I want you in my mouth.”

His face crumples at that, a guttural noise sputtering from his lips as you lift off him and slip down to rest between his legs. He nods, brushing hair back off your face as you sink your mouth down on him, slick tongue hungry on the underside of his pulsing cock. He mutters your name, tells you how perfect you feel as he rocks his hips forward, tip nudging the back of your throat with every careful thrust.

“My sweet girl, doing so good for me,” he breathes, a coy grin on his face and a firm hand at the base of your skull. He holds your head in place as he fucks your mouth with slow, steady strokes. Groans every time you swallow, warm wet throat drawing tight around his swollen head.

“Look at me, let me see those eyes,” he mutters urgently, tugging on your hair until you’re blinking, focusing blurry eyes on his face. He thumbs at the teary streaks on your cheeks and gives a rough, prolonged groan as he begins to spill down your throat. “Fuck, fuck.”

You bob your head as his cock twitches and jerks against your tongue, sucking until he’s filled your mouth with warm come and it starts seeping from the corner of your mouth, dribbling down his shaft. You catch the spill with your fingers, swallowing his thick spend down and then licking what’s left from your trembling hands.

John watches on, chest heaving, and tuts fondly when you whimper, head spinning with the salty taste of him on your tongue.

“Bloody hell,” he exhales after a moment, dragging his knuckles over his face. “We’re never goin’ home.”  

You laugh, drowsily nuzzling your cheek against the inside of his thigh as his cock softens against his stomach. John cards his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, legs still twitching and eyes drifting closed as he tries to catch his breath. Lips slick with spit and come, you lay soft pecks along his sweaty skin. Smile when he shudders, fingers tightening against your scalp, but doesn’t pull you off.

There’s a hot flush of red splashed across the skin of his neck, his cheekbones, and his stomach is still warm to the touch when you reach out to graze his soft flesh. Sated and sleepy, he wets his lips and continues to play with your hair. Lovingly curls strands of it around his fingers and tugs gently before letting go, only to pick a new strand and do it again.

Overcome with emotion, and unable to stop yourself, you lean forward and take his soft cock back into your mouth.

John hisses through his teeth in surprise, eyes flashing open.

You don’t do anything crazy yet. Just let him feel the warmth of your mouth around him, the soft glide of your tongue against the ridge around his head. When he doesn’t pull you off after a second, you give him a little suck. Not hard—just enough to make his hips flinch down into the mattress and his legs pull tight at your sides.  

“Fuck,” he exhales, face pinched. His hand trembles against your head. “Fu—hang on, fuckin’ hell, love.”

You peer up past his stomach to where his mouth hangs open and his eyes are shiny and wide. His nails scratch against your scalp. Needy little nudges that blur the line between too much and not enough. You hum in pleasure around him when a choked sound falls from his mouth. Feeling a little mean, though, you pull back, licking your lips and smiling apologetically.

“Sorry,” you murmur, face hot as you squeeze his thigh. “Just want to love on you a little longer, that’s all.”

He hums deep in his chest, brow creasing a little as he brings his big hands to cup your face. His thumb swipes at your chin, smearing the saliva there, and you part your lips for him. He makes a sort of pained sound as he slots the digit into your mouth and watches you hollow out your cheeks out around it, swirling your tongue and sucking like you’d done to his cock just moments ago.

“Christ,” John breathes. Something needy and desperate glints in his eye, and he slips his finger from your mouth. Grips the back of your neck and gives a short nod. “Gonna be the death of me, ain’tcha?”

Guided by his hand, you take him back in your mouth and sigh in relief. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you rest your face against his hip, taking deep breaths through your nose and just holding him like that for a while. You can hear the way his breathing goes haggard above your head; short sharp bursts of air huffing from his nostrils. Sensitive as he must be, John lets you have your fun, shivering and spiting low curses as your touches get increasingly needier. And when you begin to suck softly at his length again, he seems unable to help the way his strong legs writhe against the mattress.

He says your name, rough and urgent, when you pull back only to snake your tongue out against his slit. Eyes fluttering open, you look up at him as you lathe your tongue down his length, smiling at how red his face has gotten, at how he seems to be holding his breath. John’s cock starts to swell and stiffen beneath your touch.  

“D’you want me to stop?” you whisper, tracing the blue vein that pulses down the side of his length with your tongue.

“No,” he pants, head lolling from side to side. “Fuck no, gorgeous. Just go easy on me, yeah? It’s ohh—” he winces “—s’a lot.”

You nod understandingly and press a kiss to his tip, smearing the fresh pearl of precome there against your lips. He’s fully hard now, throbbing when you wrap your fingers around his thick base and wrap your lips around his head. A guttural sound rips from his chest and he’s tugging at your hair. For a moment you pause, unsure, but then he’s pushing a little on you. Nudging you closer, further, so you take him deeper and deeper until his tip is nudging against your throat.

“Fuck,” John gasps, hips stuttering against your palms, sensitive cock twitching against your tongue. “S’too much, love, it’s—oh fuck.”

With a ragged grunt his cock pulses in your mouth, and a little spurt of come dribbles from his head. You moan, eyes closed, and swallow tight around him, milking every last drop of spend from his cock until he’s winded and clumsily pushing you off of him.

Breathless, you fall flat on the mattress beside him, feet dangling off the end of the bed. John’s broad palm cradles the back of your head still, a comforting weight as you wipe your face against the sheets.

Ears pricking, you realise it’s begun to rain outside. Soft patters of liquid that knock against the window, thin rivulets that drip down to splash and splutter against the sill. Long forgotten, his cigar sizzles and dies beneath the spray.

“Another tea?” you murmur finally, pushing up onto your elbows.

But with a soft, startled laugh, you find that John’s eyes are closed, chest rising with steady breaths; already back to sleep. Shaking your head a little, you smile fondly at his lax form, and consider closing the window. You settle instead for pulling the duvet from the corner of the bed. Curled against his thick side, you settle the blanket over the two of you and lay an arm over his stomach, content to have a proper lie in after such a busy morning.

thanks for reading, i'd love to hear what you thought x

#my writing #fic: heart to heart #john price x reader #john price smut #john price fanfiction #john price x you #john price cod #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price smut

[t0wnspersonb]

Rest (Bakugo Katsuki x Reader)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,515

Warning: SMUT, LANGUAGE

I’m literally in love with Bakugo Katsuki. I’ve had this idea in my head for a while and I might make this a small series, I love me some domesticated shit and I hope you guys do too. This is the first smut I’ve ever written so please keep that in mind as you’re reading lmao. I hope you enjoy it!

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

Bakugo sighed deeply as he dropped his duffle bag to the ground with a soft thud. His red eyes burned with exhaustion, his body felt incredibly heavy tonight after his shift. 

It wasn’t that he disliked being a top pro-hero, far from it. 

In fact, if someone were to ask him if he hated or loved being a hero he would scoff at them and blast their ass.

Of course he loved his job.

Becoming a pro-hero was his dream, the ultimate goal in his life. The amount of hours, blood, sweat, and tears he had put into his training was not for nothing.

Of course he fucking loved his job.

But sometimes. 

Sometimes he wouldn’t mind being able to rest.

Like now.

Now, all he wanted to do was eat and sleep.

Bakugo flipped the light on in the kitchen, taking notice of the just washed dishes in the dish rack and the scent of cleanser lingering in the air.

Y/n must’ve cleaned up before she went to work. He thought briefly before opening up the fridge to see what was available to eat. 

His expression softened once he laid his eyes on the plate of food wrapped up with a note on top.

Missing you a lot today, don’t overwork yourself.-Y/n

After reheating his dinner he sat down at the table, sighing deeply once more now that he was finally off of his feet.

It had been a long couple of days. A couple of weeks of nonstop back-to-back hero work. Which meant that Bakugo was rarely home, either arriving far too late into the night, or leaving far too early in the morning. There were only small traces that he had actually been there, a coffee cup left in the sink, the bathroom being damp still from a shower.

It was weeks like this one that were incredibly taxing on Bakugo, and that was because he never got to see you. 

His wife. 

It also didn’t help that your work schedule at the hospital was just as busy. Almost seemingly as the exact opposite of his.

He figured you had another night shift tonight as he headed to the bedroom.

But he froze at the doorway.

The tightness in his body melted completely as he gazed at your sleeping figure. 

You were curled up under the blankets, fast asleep, and completely unaware of the tall man staring at you.

Bakugo couldn’t move fast enough.

All he could think about was curling up against you tonight, holding you close, and burying his face into your hair.

He had missed you too much.

He stripped down to his underwear and moved to slide under the blankets, his expression further softening as he noticed that you were wearing one of his t-shirts.

Carefully coming up behind you, he moved to wrap one of his arms around your waist. He pulled you in close, tucking you into his chest easily.

But you were roused awake from the sudden movement.

“Katsu?” you mumbled softly, eyes still heavy with sleep but you shifted your body so that you were facing the warm solid man now next to you.

“Go back to sleep.” he grumbled, both of you settling down against one another. He peered down at you with a gentle expression.

He had never seen anything more beautiful. 

“How was it today?” you hummed softly, slinging your right arm around his broad shoulder, your leg kicking up to wrap around his waist. 

Bakugo wrapped his fingers around your thigh, tugging you closer. His hand was big and warm, the roughness of his palms and fingers felt perfect against your soft skin. 

A touch you were desperately craving the past couple of weeks. 

“Dumbass Deku got overrun with the villains we were chasing down, I had go and save his stupid ass.” he grumbled, moving his hand up to slide into your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns into your back.

“Hmm.” you sighed softly, nuzzling your nose against his collarbone, inhaling that familiar burnt caramel scent.

Both of you were quiet for a moment, enjoying each other’s company. It was clear that both of you were exhausted, but neither of you had gone to sleep just yet.

There was a hum in the air.

A familiar one.

You looked up at the man that you’ve known your entire life. His eyes were closed, but you knew that he wasn’t asleep.

Your gaze started at the top of his head. His spiky hair was more disheveled than usual, but you knew that it was incredibly soft and perfect beneath your fingers.

Moving your eyes further down you took in his perfectly arched eyebrows and long lashes, but beneath that you noticed the dark circles framing his lower lids. 

Frowning softly at your husband’s apparent lack of sleep you continued your search against his face. 

His nose was perfect, and just below it, those soft full lips.

Your stomach flipped pleasantly. A familiar feeling bubbling in your lower stomach.

He was fucking beautiful.

And that was just his face. You knew that his body was just as perfect, if not better.

It was as if Bakugo Katsuki was sculpted from the gods themselves. 

How you were married to such a beautiful man, you didn’t know. It was then that you started to be more aware of those muscular arms that were wrapped around you. Those strong, thick fingers gripping your upper thigh tightly.

Your heart rate picked up, and you shifted slightly, attempting to get closer to him.

“Stop staring at me, shitty woman.” he grumbled, cracking one eye open to peer down at you. “It’s fucking creepy.”

Now you remember how you ended up with this beautiful man. His shit fucking personality. 

I guess it’s true when they say you can’t have it all, you thought dryly. Of course your husband couldn’t be a gorgeous man without having some kind of flaw. 

It was actually a wonder how you guys had been together so long. 

Childhood friends turned lovers.

You had been by his side since birth it felt like. 

Considering your mother and his mother were good friends, it was bound to happen that you two would be as well. 

You were the complete opposite of Bakugo. 

Kind. Sweet. Gentle. 

You weren’t in the hero course when you had gone to U.A., rather you had gotten into the support course.

Which wasn’t a problem for you. You didn’t want to become a hero. Rather, being able to help behind the scenes and being able to support those that wanted to be on the front lines, protecting and saving people, like your husband.

“Don’t be mean Katsu, I haven’t seen your grumpy face in weeks. Can’t a wife just look at her husband?” You grumbled pinching and pulling his cheeks.

He huffed angrily, grabbing your wrist and attempting to pull your fingers away from his face. “Let go, that fucking hurts.” he growled. “Stupid woman, you think I want to come home and be pestered like this?”

You snorted, an amused expression on your face as you ignored Bakugo’s increasing insults and attempts at stopping you from pulling his cheeks, increasing the pressure of your fingers on his face.

“You little shit.” he growled. He gripped your wrist tightly and shifted one of his legs to be between your thighs and moved, heaving you onto your back. Your wrists were pinned on either side of your head, Bakugo above you.

Oh fuck.

The position you were in caused your heart rate to pick up once again. Your eyes flickered down his body, appreciating the bulging muscles and the way his boxers now hung lower on his hips. 

The smirk on his face wasn’t helping the situation either. 

“Like what you see?” he sneered.

You rolled your eyes and moved your leg, shifting it up so that you could press your knee carefully against his crotch.

You could feel his growing bulge. You felt the rising blush in your face and looked away from him, going to move your leg down from its current position. But Bakugo was too fast for you, he grabbed your leg and hitched it over his hip and settled himself between your legs. Pressing himself to your center.

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips. 

“Why are you getting all shy now?” he teased, rolling his hips against yours. 

“Sh-Shut up.” you gasped, lips parting in arousal. “You haven’t even kissed me yet Katsu.”

He chuckled slightly, and released his grip on your wrists, allowing you to slither your arms around his neck, sliding your fingers into the back of hair. He leaned closer down to your face, one his hands grabbing at your jaw, the other one propping himself up to keep most of his weight off of you.

And then he was kissing you. His lips hot and urgent against yours, his tongue already poking through your lips, eager to taste the inside of your mouth.

You moaned softly, arching your body into his as your grip in his hair tightened. 

Bakugo growled against your mouth, grinding into your core harshly.

All thoughts of sleep are now gone. All Bakugo could think about was you, and how much he wanted to be inside of you. It had been far too long since the last time he'd had you, and now, he wasn’t going to wait any longer.

“Fuck, what do you want?” he growled, pulling away from you and seeing your swollen lips. Your eyes were wide and bright, full of want and need. 

His stomach churned pleasantly.

Before you could answer him his fingers were already where you wanted them the most. He rubbed at your clit in harsh controlled circles, his red eyes dark and filled with need as he gazed at your moaning flushed face.

“K - ah - Katsu. Please,” you whimpered, gripping his hair tightly between your fists. Your hips moving along with his fingers.

“Please what? What do you want?” he sneered, applying more pressure before he pushed your panties to the side, his middle finger sliding against your wet slit, but not fully penetrating you.

You felt tears gathering at the corner of your eyes, it had been too long. All you wanted was him to fuck you already. 

“You. I want you please.” you moaned out, bucking your hips up, urging him to enter you already. “Please Katsu, I missed you so much.”

Fuck. 

He missed you too. He was tired of the foreplay already, he needed to be inside you. 

Snarling loudly he all but ripped the clothes off your body before removing his boxers. His member stood tall and gorgeously thick against his stomach.

Your mouth watered at the sight, you wanted it in your mouth.

“Later.” he growled, noticing the look on your face. “I want to fuck you already.”

He spread your legs apart, gazing at you hungrily before taking his cock and rubbing it against your glistening slit, and then he rammed into you.

You cried out loudly as Bakugo set a brutal pace. Hard and fast, and incredibly deep inside your pussy.

It had been too long, your body needing time to adjust to his intrusion, your walls stretching to fit his thickness.

But he wouldn’t let you. Bakugo gave in to his desire and set a pace that had you gasping to keep up. 

Fuck did it feel good though.

The familiar pressure building up within yourself, ready to snap at any minute.

Bakugo was snarling above you, lost in the pleasure of your warm, wet walls gripping him tighter and tighter. He knew you were almost at your limit, he was too. 

He knew he wasn’t going to last long, it had been too long since the last time he was inside of you, but he needed you to cum first.

His grip was bruising on your hips; his mouth sucking and biting at every inch of skin that was within his reach. You knew you were going to have marks in the morning, but you didn’t care. 

His cock rubbed into the deepest parts of you, leaving you breathless and shaking. He always made you feel so full. 

“You gonna cum on my cock princess?” he growled, reaching down and rubbing your clit again. 

Your back arched, your head thrashing against the pillows as your pleasure began to build further up. “Katsu - ngh - I’m close.” you whimpered out.

He smirked, pulling out of your pussy before slamming himself back in.

And that was it.

You came hard, crying out and trembling beneath him, your wetness gushing out and staining the sheets below.

He snarled loudly, jackhammering his hips into yours as he chased his release before groaning lowly in his throat and spilling himself inside of you.

His hips finally stilled, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against yours softly before trailing delicate kisses against the bites he had left scattered across your throat and collar bone. 

He stayed buried deep inside of you as he continued to soothe your battered body.

Bakugo knew that he was never gentle when you guys made love. He knew that his pace was always rough and harsh, but the aftercare was a different story.

After the intense fucking he always gave you, it was important for him to take care of you tenderly. He carefully pulled his softened cock out of you, hushing you softly as you whimpered from the loss.

He watched as his cum seeped out of you, smirking slightly to himself before he pressed a gentle kiss to your hip and got up to the bathroom to get a warm wet cloth to clean you and himself up.

When he came back you were already on the verge of falling asleep again. He sat near your legs, pressing a soft kiss to your knee as he cleaned up the mess he made between your legs.

You hissed softly, your lower body sore and sensitive. He hushed you once more as he finished cleaning up, tossing the cloth somewhere behind him, he’d take of that in the morning.

Starting at your hips he trailed his soft lips up your body, pressing the sweetest kisses into your skin, gazing at you with gentle eyes.

The aftercare was his favorite part.

You were so fucking beautiful like this, completely drained after all the pleasure that he had given you. Your skin littered with his marks, your lips red and swollen from his intense kisses, your hair a ruffled mess around your head after moving it back and forth so much. 

He pulled the blankets over your bodies as he settled next to you, wrapping his arms around your body tightly.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, your eyes closing automatically, sleep ready to take you under.

“I love you Katsu.” you breathed softly, pressing your face into his chest. “So much.”

“Go to sleep.” he grumbled tenderly, placing another kiss to the crown of your head. “I got you."

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #my hero academia #reader insert #anime #smut #fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugou fluff #midoriya izuku #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #boku no hero academia #imagines #one shot #pro hero bakugou #pro hero bakugo #ground zero #married bakugo #married bakugou #husbandandwife

[threeletterslife]

Vernacular

→ [7/7] of the Glossary Series

→ summary: Namjoon shows you the five languages of love in times of intense mundanity and depression.

→ pairing/rating: namjoon x reader | PG

→ genre: 98% fluff, 2% angst | historical!au (industrial revolution)

→ warnings: none

→ wordcount: 1.2k

→ a/n: and here’s the conclusion to the glossary series!! can’t believe it’s finally ended. this is also the shortest piece i’ve ever written but listen, ~soft~ joonie has me weak on my knees 😩

Quiet clicks and clacks fill the heavy air. Dry dust flies along with the wind and soon finds purchase on the ground, settling down amongst the brown dirt. The machines whir at a patterned, pleasant pace, and if it weren’t for the scarlet-hued scrapes and cuts on your hands that sting with the lightest of pain, you would’ve lulled yourself to sleep a long, long time ago. You wipe the wet perspiration off your brow with the back of your soot-covered arm and stare at the delicate cloth in your hands.

It’s pure white, contrasting from the filth around you. So fleecy and soft—spun with the nicest of material and the greatest of care. You'd once looked at the colorless fabric and despised its apparent spruceness, its silkiness in your rough, calloused fingers. But now a smile rests on your lips.

Everything around you—from the delicate layer of dirt on the floor to the embellished oil stains on the walls—is beautiful in some way. You just have to know how to see it.

Your smile stays on your face throughout the day. Where others are grim and darkened by dust, you glow in your own contentment. You're beaming during your five-minute lunch break. You're beaming when you're walking home, past the dilapidated tenements and scurrying rats. And you beam the brightest when you open the door to your humble quarters, finding your husband waiting for you, as usual, sitting on the wooden table he built eight years ago.

He's always your beacon of light.

"Hello, Namjoon."

He beams right back at you, his eyes tired but his grin youthful and full of life.

Ever since your late husband passed away in a mine accident, Namjoon's been there to console you. It's been years since the two of you moved in together, bound by your ties in marriage. You'd forged another relationship through the turmoils of your life. He'd saved you, really. After your late husband's death, life didn't seem worth living anymore. Days passed but it felt like you were living the same hours over and over and over again.

You'd been like all the other workers in that textile factory of yours—lifeless, dull, colorless. But Namjoon waltzed into your life and taught you how to love again. Your still heart began to stir, flutter, soar upon his request. And now, every day is simply a gift. There is always something to be curious about, to seek.

"What color would the sky be if it were not blue?" Namjoon asks you one day as you recall.

You look up at the endless cerulean horizons, eyes squinting to block out the sunlight. He always asks the strangest of questions. "I am unsure," you answer truthfully. "But I do know no other color would make me feel as calm."

Namjoon laughs—it's the full kind of laughter, one that makes you want to laugh along with him and dance amongst the clouds, dance in the rain, dance in the mud.

He'd taught you what love really means.

"It's a universal language," he'd tell you time and again, often when he's sitting down after a long day of work, holding a book in his hands and his reading glasses hanging off his sloped nose. He's knowledgeable like that. And you love that about him.

"I love you," he declares to you every night in bed. Though the mattress creaks and the wind rattles the windows, though the mice squeak underneath the furniture and the darkness envelops your home. He tells you every day without fail.

Sometimes, when someone does something every day, it loses its meaning, its significance. After all, what makes life so tedious is its everyday mundanity. But somehow, Namjoon makes each and every consecutive declaration of his full heart more and more meaningful. There's something about his unadulterated devotion to you that is so pure, so raw that it almost hurts.

He spends all of his sparse free days with you.

He likes to recite poetry from memory in the sunlight. By the amber shine of dusk, he likes to read novels to you, to entertain you with fictional tales of happiness and sorrow. By the time the starlight filters through the thin drapes of the bedroom, he tells you his thoughts, his hopes, his endless dreams. Sometimes, he coaxes you to do the same. And though some emotions, some feelings are too unfathomably profound to be expounded with words, what he can't speak, he shows with his careful actions.

He massages your shoulders after particularly long workdays. He sweeps the floors and scrubs the table when you're feeling under the weather. When he finds your old table to creak at the slightest pressure of weight, he spends countless nights awake with the moon to build a new one. One that you can use comfortably without the worry of it falling apart upon a light touch.

He likes to leave you small gifts whenever he can. Hand-woven flower wreaths (that he spent the time learning how to do from the village girls), specially picked flower bouquets (to leave your home smelling sweet and absolutely ambrosial) and (the rarest of all) the sparkling jewelry he expertly bargains at the market.

He always kisses you slowly, lips colliding with yours ever-so-gently that his touch feels like a delicate feather. His hands brush against your hair, his body enveloping yours. The fervent warmth you feel in your heart travels up to your face. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world. And when he pulls away, he stares into your eyes, counting your eyelashes and reveling in your presence alone.

There are so many ways Namjoon showed you love.

"Come back home soon, my dear!" you'd told him as he folded up his sleeves and hung his lunch pail around his wrist.

"I will," he'd said. And he'd smiled that breathtaking smile of his—so genuine and so kind—his dimples dotting his face.

There were so many ways Namjoon showed you love. And you always felt comforted because it's the kind of language that makes you feel safe and secure.

"We will meet again at dinner!" you'd called after him as he waved from afar.

He blows you a lasting kiss that sails through the wind and caresses your cheek.

Love is a universal language.

This only means that so many others must speak it.

Yet it's been quite a long time since you've expressed it on your tongue.

Your beaming smile falters just a little as you gaze back at Namjoon sitting frozen at the wooden table. He looks so incredibly young in that photograph, dimples showing and all. But the colorless image does little to show the twinkling soft brown of his eyes and the rose-colored tinge of his cheeks. It only emphasizes the tiredness in his gaze and the sad juvenility he left behind in this world.

You just wish he'd come back to you. Come back home for dinner as he'd promised nearly three years ago. But even love can't breathe life into the souls who've been lost to the dark side. Love can't bring back those who have been engulfed in the flames of the underground—the explosions that frequent the cavernous mines in the subterrane.

You just wish you had more time with him.

More time to perfect the language of love.

—masterpost

—masterlist

#ficswithluv #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanidx #namjoon #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #joon #kim namjoon #namjoon imagine #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fanfiction #bts #bts fanfiction #vernacular #i meant to post this like two months ago #whoops

[poesparakeet-fics]

A Lovely birthday present for @sapphicquill! A fic full of all her favorite things for my favorite person on the planet!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast, The Poly Nein - Relationship Characters: Caleb Widogast, Fjord (Critical Role) Additional Tags: Tickling, Teasing, Verbal teasing, Fjord’s a charismatic fuck, and will wreck a wizard, Kink Negotiation, Praise Kink, tickle kink, critickle role, Cuddling & Snuggling, Pinned, All Tieflings Are Knismos, Begging, Communication, Dom Fjord (Critical Role), Sub Caleb Widogast, Light Dom/sub Summary:

With their tiefling lovers away visiting their people, Caleb and Fjord are left alone in the tower. Caleb has an itch. A want. No, a need. If only he could bring himself to ask for it.

Read on Ao3 or here:

He should have just asked.

As agonizing as that would have been, Jester wouldn’t have even teased him about it. She would have smiled and opened her arms, inviting him in, and turned him into a puddle before she left. Clearly a better option than the one he was stuck in.

Molly would have teased him, sure, but his eagerness to get on with the thing would have made it short-lived, and the results would have been the same.

He might have even been able to rope both of them, if he really wanted it. Gods, did he really want it. Now they were both in Nicodranas for the week, and an unexpected call from the Cobalt Soul had emptied their home further, until it contained one unique set of marbles that rattled around in the emptiness. Caleb himself… and Fjord.

It was so rare that they were alone together, their social lives whittled away from the web of their found family to their own unique love and camaraderie. Caleb would never tell Beau about Fjord’s skipped workouts. Fjord would keep quiet about the many long nights Caleb would spend buried in books and surviving on whatever food his insistent little cats could entice him with.

They were intimate, though with the others gone they fell into the pattern of a slow, quiet midday fuck in the library rather than mind-melting tickle attacks.

As warm as their days together were, Caleb was feeling the absence of the others. Had he really become this dependent? Had he lived so long with the luxury of insightful tiefling lovers (with a crew of accomplices) that he couldn’t go more than a few days without? Evidence said yes.

Specifically, the way his nerves had ignited when Fjord poked his head into the library late that night.

“Caleb?” He waited for the wizard’s gaze, “Come to bed tonight, hm? It’s getting lonely.”

“Oh…” Caleb felt his face alight, “It’s been so late, I didn’t want to wake you…”

Fjord waved a hand with an affectionate grin. “I know. I’m not offended. I don’t care if you wake me, though. Come to bed.”

Caleb returned the smile, hoping the shiver that chased itself around his skin wasn’t visible from the doorway. “ Ja , ok. I will. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

~~~

Caleb would swear to himself, even later, that he hadn’t meant to wake Fjord. He’d stepped into his lovers’ bedroom with every intention of creeping over to the empty side of the bed and slipping between the covers, quiet as a mouse. Unfortunately he’d left his sea legs on a ship many months before.

The gentle rocking that he’d enchanted into the bedroom combined with pitch blackness and an exhausted mind sent him tumbling into a piece of furniture— a chair?— then over it and onto the floor with a clatter. He was upright again by the time Fjord roused.

“Caleb? Are you alright?”

“Ja, just clumsy.” Caleb assured him, hurriedly putting himself into the bed and holding perfectly still. “I’m fine, go back to sleep.”

His attempt to be inconspicuous was thwarted when one arm slung itself around his middle and pulled him in to spoon with a long, even sigh. “‘Kay.”

Caleb tried to relax into Fjord’s warm embrace, until the other man’s hand started to move. One broad, smooth palm stroked his chest, stomach, side, ribcage… all in firm, gentle strokes that didn’t tickle. At all . Caleb wanted to whimper and squirm, try to catch Fjord’s fingertips against a sensitive spot and earn some little zing of sensation, but he’d already woken him once. Instead he sat very still with his skin aglow with desperation until Fjord drifted off and his hand stilled. Caleb fell asleep not long after, still wholly sensitized and half-hard.

Between basic biology and want-filled dreams, neither situation had resolved itself by morning. In fact, as it did most mornings, his skin felt more sensitive as it awakened. Caleb hadn’t opened his eyes yet when he felt the press of cool lips against the heated skin at the back of his neck, sending shivers rattling through his thin frame.

“Good morning.” Fjord’s voice was a low, sleepy rumble that made Caleb shiver for entirely different reasons.

“Morning” Caleb returned through a yawn, stretching as best he could without wriggling out of Fjord’s embrace.

He found himself suddenly sharply aware of the placement of Fjord’s hands where they were wrapped around his torso, and the restraining weight of one muscular leg thrown over his hip. Still half asleep, he bumped against the embrace with a satisfied little hum before settling his own gangly form within Fjord’s larger one.

“What are you getting up to, today?” Caleb mumbled against the pillows, still wiping sleep from his eyes.

That’s when Fjord’s embrace suddenly tightened, his arms pulling Caleb in close while his leg stopped him from curling up to press him, stretched, against the length of his companion’s form.

“Well, you know…” Fjord yawned, “I’d thought with the tiefs gone you might like a little break from certain things, seeing as how they do get you pretty often. But I’m starting to think that was a mistake on my part.”

Caleb’s skin ignited and he squirmed, suddenly breathless. “I— wait —” For what, even Caleb wasn’t sure.

Fjord chuckled into his shoulders. “Aw, you don’t need to pretend, Caleb. I felt a little bad letting you fall asleep in such a state last night, but it was late, and I know how much more sensitive you are in the mornings.” With that he clenched his fingers, settling their tips on Caleb’s rib cage like needlepoints only to hold perfectly still.

“ Fjord! ” Caleb whined, but it was barely more than a wheeze. He fought the urge to squirm.

“Yes? Did you need something?”

“ Bitte .”

Another chuckle, then hot breath in Caleb’s ear. “Bitty what? Maybe we should make this a lesson in asking for what you want from people who love you. I can stand in for Jester and Caduceus.”

Caleb gritted his teeth, unable to even consider saying the word. He didn’t need to. It was so close . He let out a wordless, pleading whine. Fjord was one of the more susceptible of the nein to pleading.

One of Fjord’s hands tossed the blankets to the side and exposed a long flank of pale skin, currently bound by strong green limbs. The same hand started to float above Caleb’s side, fingers flicking to set off interspersed giggles from the trapped wizard.

“It’s not a burden, you know. Look how easy it is to rile you. Hardly a chore. I don’t even need to touch you…”

Caleb could only whine and giggle, eyes locked on Fjord’s floating hand. The half-orc’s other arm was still wrapped around Caleb’s torso, gripping the wizard’s arms tightly to keep them out of his way.

“…just imagine how bad it’s gonna be when I do.”

Caleb thrashed a little against his restraint with his eyes shut tight, half to hide from the teasing and half out of embarrassment over the squeaking strings of giggles he was producing without so much as a touch.

A smooth palm strokeed at this stomach in a move that would have been comforting had he been calmer, but instead his eyes shot open with a hiccoughing yelp that turned into a whine as the hand withdrew and started floating once more.

“You’re gonna have to say it, if you want it. I could do it just how you love it. Start out nice and slow…”

Fjord’s fingers started to drift again, his fingers skating a scant inch above the soft skin of Caleb’s stomach. Caleb’s eyes were open and locked in a wide, giddy panic. He was already getting breathless.

“…or I could get a little more serious…”

Fingers crooked and made a clawing motion over Caleb’s ribcage, making him squeal and kick his feet against the mattress.

“…or maybe a little beard action…”

“No!” Caleb squeaked, his neck collapsing backward. Fjord hadn’t done anything, but the knowledge that said beard was just out of sight and free to wreak havoc was enough.

“No? Why not?” Fjord asked, hooking one finger to menace above Caleb’s armpit. “Keep telling me ‘no’ instead of 'please tickle me Fjord’ and I might really stop. Just let you marinade for the rest of the week and tell the tieflings how bad you need it when they get home, hmm?”

“No-hohoho! Evil!”

“What’s evil?” Fjord asked patiently, chuckling at the frustrated sound it pulled from the trapped wizard. “Not my beard! You were singing its praises not too long ago. Remember that night? The one where Jester and I kissed you from head to toe?”

The sense memory lit Caleb up. He hid in the bicep of his trapped arm and groaned, feet mussing the sheets further.

“ Der teufel … you’re a fucking devil… they should have brought you with, to their tiefling retreat!”

“Careful, if those two had decided to make exceptions to the tieflings-only rule they would have packed you in a suitcase and served you on a plate.” Fjord’s fingers flexed in the air once more, and Caleb made a sound like he was dying.

“Hang in there, now, what if I were to grab that rope that’s tied under the headboard… and the paintbrushes in the bedside drawer… and I get real patient with your armpits to see how long you can take it.”

One cautious finger was set down carefully on the thin skin at the back of his armpit, too firm and still to really tickle, but Caleb sobbed into his bicep all the same. He felt Fjord shift.

“Are you crying ? Oh, I cannot wait to show Jester this new trick. How to make you wail and cry without doling out one single tickle?”

Caleb didn’t want to prove him right, but he couldn’t help the little wail that escaped. Jester didn’t need to learn to tease like this . Nobody needed to learn to tease like this. In fact, if Fjord didn’t stop teasing, Caleb was pretty due he was going to melt and be absorbed into the mattress like spilled tea.

“Fjord no , stop —”

Suddenly the pinprick sensation near his armpit was gone. The weight of Fjord’s leg was gone, as was Fjord himself. Caleb kicked himself upright, head on a swivel. The half-orc was already pulling on a shirt.

“What…?”

“I told you, if you kept telling me no, I’d stop.”

Cold shock slid down Caleb’s spine, his stomach dropping.

“ Please , Fjord!”

“Please what?”

Caleb made a frustrated sound, balling his hands into fists in the sheets. “Please do everything you just threatened to, you arschloch !” Then he felt a thrill of panic as he was pinned under the paladin’s gaze.

A wicked grin split Fjord’s features as he turned and stalked back towards the bed. “ Everything? Well, I was going to make you say the word, but that’s an offer I can’t refuse. C’mere.”

Whatever fight Caleb had found at the prospect of being abandoned drained out of him as Fjord pushed him backward and sprawled across him.

“So…” Fjord questioned, one eyebrow raised as his hand started to float again. “I’m afraid I can’t quite remember my list… gonna need some help from that keen mind of yours.”

Caleb groaned.

“What was that first thing again?”

It was a ruse. It was a trick. Caleb didn’t care. He was going to combust.  His arms were already thrown up to hide his face, so from that hiding place he croaked “Start off slow…”

“Right, right… slow.” Fjord purred.

It turned out that there would be no going slow that morning, because the second his fingers started to skate around Caleb’s navel the wizard’s arms snapped down to protect his torso while he dissolved into breathless, pitchy laughter.

“Oh dear, you’re in big trouble, aren’t you? So riled up already.”

“St— nahaha— don’t tease! ”

“Oh… that was not part of the deal. What’s next?”

“ Nahaha— you know! ”

“Nope.” Fjord was nonchalant as he took the other man apart with one fingertip. “Sorry, don’t remember…”

Caleb hugged his ribcage tighter with one arm and pressed his other fist against his mouth. “Get ahahaha— little mohohore serious!”

His attempts to hide were universally futile. Fjord’s hands started to hop and skip around his torso, delivering a ticklish pinch and prod at every open space he could find without ever trying to get Caleb’s hands out of the way, a sharp reminder of how helpless Caleb was to stop him.

Caleb’s laughter kicked up in a way that left him without breathe to plead or squeal, so he settled for wrapping both arms around his ribs and rolling onto his side to put his face in the pillow.

“Nope.” Two strong hands grabbed his shoulders and flattened him out on his back. “No hiding. Watching you fall apart is the best bit.”

Caleb wailed at his exposure, his laughter leaving him weak enough for Fjord to slide his hands around his ribcage and dig in more thoroughly. Caleb arched his back and tossed his head in an attempt to drive the sensation away, but he could only cackle and accept his fate for the time being.

Fjord finally let him catch his breath a short while later, hands still in their attack position but with stilled fingers. “So…” he purred over the sounds of Caleb’s hiccuping gasps “What was the next one?”

Caleb had only a few breaths to collect himself, a little thrill of rebellion rising in his chest. “You were going to… hic… get the r-rope…”

“That’s right! Now I remember.” Fjord purred again, kissing a few stray tears of laughter away from Caleb’s face as he reached one arm between the mattress and the headboard to pull out a length of silken red rope (an absolutely mortifying gift from Marion Lavorre that had sparked quite the conversation about privacy) and wrap it around both of Caleb’s wrists.

The wizard sighed in relief as his deception went unnoticed, then quivered at the helpless stretch of his body. He hid his face in the bends of his arms while Fjord settled next to him.

“See, the only problem with this paintbrush idea…” Fjord mused, watching Caleb’s breath even out. “Is that you’re a fuckin liar and that’s not what I said next.”

Caleb managed one quick, panicked gasp as the accusation landed, but the unbearable scrape of a beard across the side of his ribcage drew it all out of him in a squeal.

“Aaaah! Nein! No! Stahp! ”

“Say ‘please tickle me Fjord’.”

“ Nahaha —” Caleb wheezed “ Can’t— can’t! Bitte!”

“Oh, that’s right, it was supposed to be your armpits, wasn’t it?” One strong hand gripped an elbow, pinning it next to one flushed cheek to stretch the thin skin beneath.

“ Nahahaha! ” Caleb shrieked as Fjord hovered his lips just above his underarm, warm breath already making the wizard’s entire body rigid with ticklish panic.

“Say iiiiiit” Fjord sing-songed, his words drawing out a fresh wave of hysterics. “Say it or I’ll stay like this forever…”

Caleb swallowed, gasped and hiccuped for a moment before finally choking out “ P-please tickle me, Fjord. ”

“Good boy…” Fjord’s voice was soothing, but he had to raise it to be heard over the screams of laughter that the gentle bump of his nose and soft brush of his lips ripped out of the wizard beneath him. “I am so proud of you. I’m going to tell Jester all about it, and she’ll be proud of you too.”

He kept it up for a few moments, even after he stopped showering Caleb with praise, applying a good nuzzle to the ticklish armpit before releasing the wizard to melt into a giggly puddle in the middle of his bed.

“Would have been so much easier if you’d just asked,” he murmured into ginger hair, “but you know that, didn’t you?”

#the poly nein #caleb widogast #fjord #tk fic #critickle role #tickling #tickle fic #poes prose

[jawritter]

Daddy’s Home

Summary: Dean’s been away from his Omega too long, and he has a very interesting way of waking her up to let her know he’s home.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Smut, this is pretty much porn with almost no plot. Oral (female receiving), mentions of rut, hint of a breeding kink, Daddy kink, unprotected smut, abo dynamics, knotting, scenting marking, a hint of possessiveness that comes with abo. language, I think that’s about it. 

Written for: @spnkinkbingo

Square Field: Daddy Kink

Word Count: 2087

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

A/N: This fic is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes and general bullshit are my own! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one!

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You always knew when your Alpha was close to his rut, even if it was a damn week away. There were certain aspects of him that changed during the time when his hormones were at their highest, and the most basic animalistic instincts seem to shove their way to the forefront of his personality.

You’d caught him more than once slipping up behind you while you were doing the dishes to brush against you to layer you with his scent, letting everyone and everything around him know just who you belonged to. He’d also become a lot more cuddly than he normally was, wanting to hold you while you read a book in the evening, or wanting you to sit in his lap while you watched movies together in the big recliners in the Dean Cave. It was nothing but an excuse to scent you, but you always craved the closeness of your Alpha, so you really didn’t mind at all. 

He was with you all the time. You could do nothing alone, not even shower. Every time you turned around he was there.  You often wonder if it was because his brother, Sam, who is also an Alpha, shared the bunker with the two of you, and he felt the need to guard you from the other Alpha in the place, but you never really looked into is and just accepted it as just something Dean would do close to this time. 

Then of course there was the sex. There was literally no point in even putting clothes on to go to bed when Dean was this close to a rut. They’d just end up in shreds on the floor before the night was out...or before he even climbed into bed…

Dean had been on a hunt now for at least three weeks with Sam, a shifter from the looks of it, and it had been killing him to be so far away from you when he was this close to going into rut, and feared more than anything that’s he’d end up going into full blown rut if the hunt hadn’t ended when it did.

You were never a hunter, you just never wanted to be involved in that aspect of it all. You were fine with research, and you were also good at it, but that also means you were often at home and away from your Alpha, who was whining on the phone with you liked a kicked puppy when you had hung up with him tonight because you were still a state over and he wasn’t home to you yet; even though they were on their way back now Dean was becoming very impatient. 

You didn’t like the distance either, but you knew what you signed up for the moment you had agreed to let Dean claim you. So it was just something you’d have to endure as long as Dean was hunting, which was probably going to be for the rest of your natural lives. 

You don’t know what time you’d gone to bed that night, but it hadn’t been all that late, honestly you think you did it out of boredom. The faster you fell asleep, the sooner you’d be in your Alpha’s arms anyway. It honestly didn’t feel like you had been out all that long, and at first you weren’t sure if you were just dreaming or not. It was one of those moments where you were pretty sure you were awake, but somehow still asleep all at the same time. 

In your “dream” you were almost certain that you could feel the warmth of someone’s tongue on your core, sliding through your folds and around your clit, making you shiver even in your sleep. A sleepy moan falls from your throat at the feeling, and you force yourself out of the blanket of sleep, opening your eyes to be greeted by the sight of your Alpha with your legs spread wide, and his mouth lapping at your cunt in an almost animalistic, possessive manner, purring like it was greatest thing he’d ever tasted and sending a gush of slick from your core at the sight alone. 

“Dean,” you moan breathlessly, and the Alpha’s eyes meet yours with the golden glow you had become all too familiar with penetrating the dark room, and making the Omega inside of you quiver and submit without him even having to say a word.

He never stopped doing what he was doing, just growled in response as he took your swollen bud in between his sinful lips, sucking at and causing your back to arch off the bed as his fingers press bruisingly into your hips to hold you still for him. 

All coherent thought flew right out of the window as he then started to eat at you like a man starved. Most of the humanity that he normally clung to was far gone from him, and the raw, animal instincts of the Alpha taking the reins as his tongue dipped into your slick heat, fucking you with his impossibly long tongue, stroking your inner most walls as his stubble left the most delicious burn on your thighs and his nose brushed against your throbbing clit in the best way. 

Deep rumbling growls resonated from his chest as he continued to lap at your cunt, flattening out his tongue against your pussy, rubbing the heat of his mouth back and forth over your slit as he thrust his long, dripping Alpha cock against the mattress, desperate for friction, but to engrossed in tasting you that he couldn’t stop if he wanted too to fuck you, not yet. 

His perfect white teeth nibbling at your clit next as he sank three fingers deep into your convulsing pussy. Fucking you slowly as his mouth covers your swollen nub and he presses himself harder onto your mound, picking up the pace of his licking and sucking, alternating patterns of his spongy, hot tongue over your clit until heat was pooling in your center and your walls were twitching around his fingers as he scissors you open, preparing you for his knot after he milked your cunt for all you could give him, needing to taste your sweet heat that he’d been craving as your release pushed closer and closer with each pass of his tongue, his teeth, his lips…

“Fuck Alpha,” you cried as your walls started to crumble around his fingers and you came harder than you had since the morning he’d left for the hunt.

Dean slowed his ministrations, lapping up all that you had to give him as your slick coated his fingers and his chin, moaning at the taste of what he’d been craving the most. The thick ring of his knot was already turning an angry shade of red and swelling slightly as he fucked himself into the mattress, and even in your orgasmic state, you shivered at the thought of your Alpha being that desperate for you. 

You were still twitching with aftershocks of your high when Dean’s full length slammed into your quivering cunt with one swift thrust, and his lips found yours in a passionate kiss as his tongue invaded your mouth and he swallowed down the your scream as he filled you to the brim with his cock, damn near splitting you open.

“Fuck Omega, I missed you,” he growled as he started to fuck you slowly, pulling out only far enough to create a slight amount of friction, but not enough to really give you the sustainable push and pull you were both craving. 

“I missed you too Alpha,” you whimper underneath him, the sheer weight of his body holding you in place as he drives his cock deeper, rutting himself inside you and putting pressure on your still sensitive clit. 

“So pretty when you come apart like that baby girl. Been dreaming of tasting you since I backed out of the garage and left you here,” he breathed out between a moan of his own that had your cunt squeezing his knot as he rutted himself harder into your center, not pulling out at all now, but keeping the connection between you so deep you were pretty sure the tip of his length was pressing into your womb.

“Please Alpha,” you beg him desperately, needing more of him, needing to feel him knot you, needing to feel his warm cum filling your pulsating cunt. Desperately needing that connection that only existed between an Alpha and his Omega.

“Please what Omega, what is it you want from Daddy,” he growls, licking and nipping at your claiming mark, causing you to arch your back off the bed and press your pebbled nipples against his broad and warm chest. 

“Fuck me Daddy, please. I need your knot Alpha,” you beg him, your legs shaking as you grind your hips against his, pushing his cock even deeper into your tight channel, making him snarl into your throat at the feeling. 

“What me to fuck you pretty Omega, Want Daddy to knot you, fill you full of his cum, fuck a pup into that pretty little cunt of yours,” Dean pressed, feeling your body trembling underneath him as he you tried desperately to grind on the cock that was buried inside of you. 

“Yes Daddy please!” you scream, caring if Sam heard you or not, all you needed was your Alpha’s knot, it was all you cared about, it was all you could think about it. The need for him consuming you like a raging fire under your skin.

You watched as the Alpha took his rightful place, and the last bit of Dean’s resolve broke. His hips snapped into you at a punishing pace, dragging his manhood in and out of your pussy with enough force to nearly fuck you clean onto the floor as he chased his release as well as yours. You could feel the thick ring of his knot starting to catch at your entrance with each thrust of his hips and you knew neither of you were going to last long before you were coming apart all over again. 

“Omega,” Dean groaned as he buried his face in your neck, lapping at your mating gland, while his free hand found its way to your clit. “Feels so good baby girl. I need you to come for Daddy, come on Daddy’s knot Omega.” 

With two more thrust of his hips into yours Dean’s knot popped as he rubbed your clit furiously, locking the two of you together as your walls greedily sucked him in deeper, and you came so hard around his knot that he roared above you, shaking into his own release and coating your insides with is seed. 

When you both had come down from you high Dean carefully rolled over onto his back, laying you on his chest as he waited for his knot to go down. The scent of his rut had calmed for now, but you knew it was just beginning, and it was only the calm before the storm. 

Dean’s chest rose and fell at a more steady pace as you nuzzled into his neck, breathing in as much of his scent as you could manage at a time. 

“I missed you Alpha,” you tell him, shivering and clenching around his knot that was still buried deep inside of you as his fingers trailed up and down your spine soothingly, causing a moan to fall from his pink, swollen lips and more cum to spill out into your heat. 

“Well, if I’m not too old, and we get a pup out of this rut since you stopped taking your birth control, then it’s the last one I’m going on anyway. I’m getting too old for it. Sam and the other hunters can keep things under control, and if I do go out it won't be often. It’s getting too hard to be away from my Omega, and every time I do it throws me into a rut.”

You look up at him hopefully, letting him capture your lips in a soft, more sensitive kiss than the one he’d shared with you moments ago. 

“Promise Alpha?” 

Dean chuckled and nuzzled into your hair, growling you playfully, causing you to giggle and sending a whole new wave of pleasure through your still conjoined bodies. 

“I promise little Omega. Daddy’s home for good.” 

And he meant it this time. It was time for his happy ending. The ending he deserved.

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#dean winchester #daddys home #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #alpha!dean winchester x omega!you #alpha!dean #omega!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #abo #abo dynamics #spn fanfiction #spnkinkbingo #spn smut #alpha!dean winchester smut #jensen ackles #jawritter

[tipsydipsydo]

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: 18+

Genre: Angst; Fluff; Smut

AU: Historical/Middle Age! AU

Warnings: arranged + forced marriage; gender roles according to the period; sexual themes + sexual language; Praising; Body-Worship; Nipple Play; Fingering; First experience of an orgasm; Loss of virginity (unprotected Sex)

Summary: You're getting married tomorrow and you want to say goodbye to your mare. There you met the stable boy Taehyung for the last time, who's your best friend and childhood crush at the same time. You will experience a stormy night full of love and passion and you'll give the biggest proof of love to him...

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With a thumping heart you peep around the corner, but the cold hallway with high stone walls lies quietly in front of you, only a few candles in their stands lit up the long corridor. The servants must have finally retired to their own rooms and even the last noises in the courtyard has fallen silent. It must be close to midnight, but you couldn't sneak away earlier. The danger of being caught has been too big. But now you grab the  thin skirt of your white night gown and lift it a little bit up, so that you could walk as silently as possible along the corridor, across the courtyard to the horse stable. Light-footed you quickly put one foot in front of the other, the bright Full Moon guides you with its light the way to the stable. Quietly you open the small side door and slip in, where you’re greeted the familiar smell of horse, hay and leather. 

Here, too, the torches were extinguished late. Just thinking about what a momentous day tomorrow will be will make you sick and silent tears run down your cheeks. Tomorrow you will be your wedding with a man who was already over thirty years old when you were born and whom you didn't even really know. He was here once two months ago so that you two could „get acquainted" with each other. Theobald, as he is called, has a bald head, an ugly potbelly and with every, almost frightening smirk you could get a glimpse of yellow teeth. At your first meeting, he had already patterned you with such a disgustingly lustful look that a cold shudder ran down your back and still makes you nauseous at the thought of it. 

Your eyes are slowly getting used to the darkness, fortunately some Moonlight falls through the small ventilation hatches, so you can reach the last Box without tripping over something. Securely you open the door and gently push the butt of my beloved Grey Mare Estrilda to the side. Curiously, she lifts her big, noble head and turns a little to you. As if she knows what will happen to you tomorrow, she tenderly presses her head against your chest. Until now you had only cried quietly for yourself, but now, you bury your face in her soft, long mane and let your feelings run free. Why didn't your mother, when you were born, take action against being promised to such an old man? 

But every time you asked her, she just shrugged with her shoulders helplessly and murmured softly,"that's just how it is, Y/N. I wanted to talk to your father, but he only saw the opportunity in finally reconciling two hostile Empires. With this marriage. You have to believe me, dear. I was hoping for something different for you. That you will be happier than I am. That you can live your life more in more freedom." 

You have always been different, your curiosity, your stubbornness and your self-confidence do not correspond to the expectations one has of a daughter of the noble family. You love horses and riding, you can't do anything with jewelry, dresses out of expensive silk and velvet or perfumes. You loved to ride in the big hunt at least once a year and go hunting with your falcon Alan. You are not interested in the easy, comfortable life as the wife of a nobleman. You would much rather have helped once in the kitchen and learned how to cook a meal. But this was strictly forbidden to you, after all you are not a maid! Your wish is simply to be allowed to be as you want it to be. You do not care whether it is appropriate for a woman of your rank or not. 

Your body slowly calms down from the convulsion and one last time you take the smell of your beloved mare deep into your lungs. Because she will stay here while you return to his estate with your new husband. That would become your new home. Although the wedding party will be celebrated here... but you will spend our wedding night with him on his castle. Then you will be trapped in the clutches of a sadistic, cruel and heartless ruler. You have heard some whisperings and rumors from the other Kingdom. The thought lies like a bitter, putrid taste on your tongue and your stomach twists at the thought that you have to show yourself naked to this disgusting man. You would rather burn at the stake as a wicked whore than surrender your virginity to him. 

Suddenly, you hear the clatter of a fallen bucket and a dull cursing behind you, which is why you‘re startled and push yourself out of instinct into the darkest corner of the horse box. In vain, because the shadowy figure steps closer and opens the box door. Your heart beats fast, who is that and would he betray you for wandering around in the stable at night? But your anxious heart romptly calms down as you look into the soft and gentle face of Taehyung, the stable boy. 

"Y/N? What are you doing here, wouldn't you have to sleep since a long time? After all, tomorrow is your wedding.", the last sentence spit Taehyung literally out. A relieved smile comes to your lips when you see your only and best friend. "Taehyung...", you murmur and fall into his arms, trying your best to suppress a sob. His  muscular arms are wrapping themself around you, holding you and run tenderly his fingers through your hair. 

The first time you met was on your eleventh birthday when you received Estrilda as a birthday present and he was assigned to look after the welfare of your horse. At that time he had already been fifteen, and now, nine years later, he has matured into a handsome twenty-Four year old man. He is the only one who ever understood you and even offered to run away with him when you found out about your marriage. But you would be looked for all over the country and everything would be more like a deadly skewer, which is why you sadly but thankfully refused. Above all, you do not want to expose your beloved mother to the cruel anger of your father, he would blame her if one morning you could no longer be found. It is inevitable that you must marry this disgusting, sadistic devil, whether you like it or not. But one thing you will decide for yourself...

Taehyung's masculine smell of sweat and horse calms you down more than ever and you snuggle up sobbing at his chest, steeled muscles from the daily hard work. You let your feelings run free and enjoys the gentle caresses he gives you. He is even more against the wedding than you and you have already guessed the reason for a long time. He develops feelings for you, which would go beyond your normal friendship-relationship. This assumption triggers a gentle flutter in your stomach and you wish you could be even closer to him than you already are. You both knew it, but you have never really said it out loud. For this fact requires no words. You’re in love with each other. 

It was clear from the beginning that this fragile love has no future, and yet it feels so right, even though it is completely wrong. But he gives you the affection and attention that even your own mother could never give to you. Tonight, you want to give something to Taehyung that would belong to himcompletely alone. Nobody could ever steal it from him, this gift is irreplaceable.

It would be your virginity. If you have to marry such a cruel man, you want to give your innocence to someone who has proved to be worthy enough. Taehyung is worthy for it. 

You detach yourself a little from his chest and look up into those beautiful dark brown eyes in which you‘re threaten to drown every time. Your fingers glide up to his strong neck, through his soft, black curls and tug on them gently until he moans softly. 

“Tae... From tomorrow we will not see each other again. We only have this night left. I have already given you my heart, it will remain yours forever. But tonight I want to give you something else... My virginity shall be yours.”, you breathe softly against his lips. 

Taehyung startles and looks down at you in disbelief. "B-But Y/N...I-I could never accept something like this! Such a thing like your virginity belongs to Theo-", he rambles overwhelmed and want to turn your opinion against that idea,but you just press your lips almost violently onto his.

"No. It should never belong to Theobald. If I already have to make the marriage covenant with him, then I want to be able to decide by whom my virginity will be token!", you reply to your lover and bite him hard into the lower lip. 

He is still visibly surprised, but now your passion reaches him too and he respond with the same desire to your kiss. Your tongues find each other and starts a wild catching game. Heat rises in your bodies, reaches every pore of your body and makes this unknown feeling of pleasure pulsate through your veins. You long for Taehyung's love, one last time you want to feel his affection before you go to hell tomorrow. At least once you want to see heaven before you are banished to hell for the Rest of your life. The breath of your loved one becomes faster, he is panting, this kiss alone pushes you both in such a tremendous passion, which you have kept so forcibly hidden from each other otherwise. 

"L-Let‘s go to the hayloft...", Taehyung murmurs at your neck in a deep, hoarse voice. You nod breathlessly, you are completely overwhelmed by the feelings that a simple kiss can trigger in you if you just love someone with your whole heart. Securely, you climb one by one the narrow wooden ladder up to the hayloft and you two throw tightly wrapped up into the hay. Your lips can hardly keep away from each other. The desire and longing for Taehyung increases every moment.

"Please...", you whisper in a whimpering voice, your body feels like it's on fire and this unknown longing for union drags you into a swirl. But Taehyung wants to get to know you and your breathtaking body, trying to memorize as much as possible. He never wants to forget how you look, feel, smell and taste. The cords of your nightgown are opened unnoticed by him, suddenly you just feel the scratchy hay under you and his loving hands on your skin. 

"Beautiful.... So beautiful...", he mutters again and again under his breath. His eyes wanders over your exposed body,  blown out eyes lingering on your breasts. Taehyung admired you silently since you’ve met for the first time, you always took his breath with your beauty away. Especially the last few years he realized what kind of effect you have on him, how you’ve grown up from the little wild princess to a confident young Lady. How his own and your Body has changed of the years and with it, how his maybe not so innocent desires awakened in him. 

You are gorgeous, he can’t even describe your majestic body in words properly, you leave him speechless. You look better than in his sinfully fantasies he has at night, tossing his sweaty and needy Self around in Bed, trying to prevent those indecent thoughts about his own best friend. Well, his love of his life. He shouldn’t think that way about the princess, is he insane or something?! Still, he couldn’t reject his feelings for you, neither you could. 

You both will end up in hell, you’re doing so sinful things right now but why they’re feeling so good? Why is it a sin to have such desires, to have the need to feel so close to each other, why are you sinning when you feel so much love, desire and pleasure that you couldn’t bear it anymore? You couldn’t understand and you would never.

„My royal highness, m-may I ask if you allow me to touch your Breasts?”, stutter Taehyung out, gulping hard and biting his lower lip in desperation. He knows he would hurt you somehow through fusion of your bodies but alone the thought of it hurts him right in his heart. Taehyung doesn’t wants to be the one who’s hurting you, he wants that you’ll keep this night as good as possible in your memory. 

„O-Oh my god, Taehyung... d-don’t call me that, please just call me by my Name. ...and please, oh please touch me, I want to feel your Hands all over my Body!”, you pant out whimpering, arching your spine to encourage Taehyung in his actions. 

A deep, longing moans leaves his lips, finally touching and kissing every conceivable part of your body. For the first time and probably also for the last time in your life, you will learn what this true love is. Something of which so many Minnesingers always sing about. It feels so indescribably good that the tears are just running down your cheeks, you can’t hold them anymore, you feel too good, too loved. Only this night you want to see heaven before you have to burn in hell as a deflowered whore until the end of your life. But this one time is worthy for you to sin. A lustful moan escapes your lips as his lips enclose one of your nipples and caress them tenderly with his tongue. 

Countless whispers and pleads are falling from your slightly parted lips, you’re chanting his name like a mantra. Every noise that comes from your tongue let Taehyung‘s need to pleasure you even more grow. Almost helpless, as if you’re drowning, you grab Tae‘s strong Biceps and look up to him. Your eyes are sparkling from the tears which ran down your cheeks, the unconditional love in them is crushing Taehyung‘s Soul. 

"Oh Y/N, I love you so much... I don’t know how to express them so they would portray the pure feelings I have for you in my chest, in my soul. Please let me show you something else...", he wispers into your ear, nibbling tenderly on your earlobe. 

His other hand glides through the valley of your breasts, over your stomach down your sweet and hot center. You whine softly, you’re a little flustered, nobody touched you down there in such a way before. Almost automatically your thighs want to close again, just Taehyung’s gentle and caressing hand keep you from doing so. 

"Shhh, my precious Angel, don’t be ashamed... you’re gorgeous and so beautiful, you can’t imagine how bad I want you. You smell so delicious, you’re driving me insane! Would you like to continue or should I stop? I will do whatever you want, just tell me..", murmurs Taehyung’s low voice, you can clearly hear the tremble of arousal in it. After you took a few deep breaths to calm your oversensitive nerves, you’re spreading slowly your thighs for him. 

Taehyung‘s eyes are fixated on your face, watching patiently your facial reactions for any discomfort. Now, his hand is coming to life again and moves forward until it disappeared between your legs. His fingertips moves incredibly gentle over your soft pussy lips, slowly parting them and let his fingers soak in your lust juice. They run up and down, teasing your clit and preparing your entrance for his length. 

Waves of Lust electrify your whole Body, every fiber and nerve is pumped full of sexual desire and you’re gasping for air. You’ve never felt that way before, you have no clue what kind of sweet spot that is but you want Taehyung to touch it over and over again. 

Why does sinning feels so incredible good? You’re fallen for the devils work, you love sinning when it feels that amazing. 

"Please, please, please... Taehyung, do that again, it feels so good-", you sob out, holding on his broad shoulders as if your life depends on him. Honestly, it does. 

"Yeah? Does that feel good, my Princess? Do you want more?", rasps your beloved Taehyung. His fingers speeds up, flicking your cute little pearl with his thumb in a rapid pace now. His middle and ringfinger is pounding into your tight, pulsating channel and is stretching you open. His movement creates lewd squelching noises which makes you a little blush. The coil of lust in your abdomen grows unstoppable, you don’t know to handle this unfamiliar feeling. Your Body is shaking, whimpers and choked out whines filling the hay loft. You don’t understand what is happening, just pure unfiltered need and desire clouded your mind and you can’t think straight anymore. 

"Oh my- Oh my god, Tae... I-I am... I don’t know what is happening-"

"I know Baby, everything is okay, just let yourself go... I‘m here, I will catch you when you’re falling apart..."

It just needs a few more strokes of his thumb on your oversensitive clit until the ball of pleasure bursts open and fills every pore of your body with pure ecstasy. You can’t hold your tears of pleasure back anymore, the small and so precious diamonds are rolling out of the corner of your eye until Taehyung’s Lips are catching them. 

"Baby... are you alright? Did it felt good?", he asks quietly and rubs soothingly over the top of your thighs. Avoiding your center on purpose, he doesn’t want to overstimulate you even further.

"T-Tae... that- that felt so good... h-how did you do that? I-I can’t hold my tears back, I am sorry!" A weak sob leaves your lips and you bury your face into Taehyung’s chest. He caress you gently, whispering sweet nothings and praises into your ear, worshipping you to the fullest. Promising you to show you how you can make yourself feeling that good, teaching you how you can make love to yourself. 

After you came down from your high, you gently grab the soft baby hair in his nape and move his face towards you. 

"Taehyung, I want to feel you as close as possible, I want to merge with you, I want to make love to you- ...I want you.", you whisper and hold his face in your hands, looking him deep into his eyes. 

"Oh, I will... I will serve you with everything you wants,my Dear. Please lay down and spread those beautiful legs for me again...", he answers and smile softly at you. The sweet love names he picked for you makes your stomach flutter und the blush on your cheeks is darkening. Taehyung gives you a last sweet smile full of love before your lips meet again and he pushes into you. 

A short, stabbing pain flares through your body, but that was all. He holds still into you until you give him the permission to move. At first, it was a slow and gentle rhythm but your sweet moans and whimpers encourage him to go faster and in the end he looses all his control over his suppressed sexual needs. Making love to you in the most passionate way possible. 

He shows you the heaven on earth and love takes on a whole new meaning for you. You trust him unconditionally and he shows you that you are equal. You are an equal woman, an equal person for him. He loves and respects you. All this is the most beautiful thing you have ever experienced in your life. You have given him your virginity and he has given you a son with these wonderful brown eyes and dark curls. 

"Mother, why do you always cry when you see me? I didn't do anything today... ", asks your little six-year-old son and looked at you questioningly with those chocolate brown eyes that bring you to tears every time.

"You look so much like your father. Your real father."you say quietly.

"Did he hurt you, Mommy?", he asks with big fearfully eyes and you quickly shake your head. 

"No, not at all! H-He had been the only man who had ever really loved me...“ 

„...the only one to whom my heart will forever belong."will you bring barely audible over your lips. 

#btswritersguild #bangtanhq #bts smut #taehyung middle age au #bts x reader #bangtanarmynet #taehyung smut #bts medieval au #thehouseofbangtan #taehyung x reader #purplearmynet #bts x reader smut #bts angst #deflowered #bts fluff #bts x reader medieval

[wyofabdoms]

Ten Days - Day One

Characters: Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Javier is shot and refuses to take his antibiotic while recuperating. You get creative and make him a deal that ensures he will take his medicine everyday: one kiss for one pill. It's gonna be a long 10 days.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major character injury, slow burn, mutually unrequited, medical inaccuracies, swearing

Word Count: 3219

Note: My very first completed fic EVER and first original post on Tumblr...what a time to be aliiiiive!!!  The rating will go up in later chapters, FYI.  I want to say thank you to @yespolkadotkitty​ for being so kind and helpful and encouraging.  Go read her stories...she’s an amazing writer.

Read the full series on Ao3

“God dammit!…...Fucking-….God damn mother fuckers!...”  

You roll your eyes as you listen to the continued litany of swearing coming from the direction of the living room.  Men can be such babies sometimes, you think as you put the finishing touches on the sandwich you’d plated along with a bowl of soup.  Suddenly the litany of mixed English and Spanish swear words is broken by a sharp, hissing intake of breath and you jerk your head in the direction of the adjoining room.  

“Peña?”  You call out.  “What happened?”  You didn’t get an answer until you enter the living room with the plate of food, a glass of water and a small bottle of pills.  The DEA agent lie curled in on himself, half-on, half-off his leather couch.  His elbows are clenched tightly into his sides, his face pale, eyes scrunched shut and teeth gritted in pain.  Clearly your bull-headed partner had not heeded your instructions to stay still and not try to move on his own.  Such babies….and soooo stubborn! You think to yourself as you shake your head, placing the items in your hands on the coffee table.  Reaching out to grasp his shoulders to help him back into a more comfortable position, you do your best to not say the words rushing through your brain.  

“What did I tell you?  What the hell do you think you’re doing?  I told you you’re going to…”  Before you can continue, his eyes snap open and he spears you with them; they’re filled with malice and anger and frustration.  

He cuts you off, spitting his words in your direction. “I could ask you the same fuckin’ question, honey,” Javi bites off. 

Your own temper flares now in response to his outburst, and you jab your balled fists into your hips, staring down at the grown man writhing in pain. “Fuck you, Peña!  Don’t be such an asshole, I’m only trying to help.”

“I don’t need your fuckin’ help...what I need is for you to leave me the fuck alone.” he grits out, clenching his elbows tighter into his side.

“God you are acting like SUCH a child right now, Peña.”  You cross your arms, but still refuse to follow his direction and leave.  For a moment, the dark eyes that were flashing anger flickered to confusion, filled with a question, indignation.  But only for a moment.  His eyebrows pull impossibly low into a harsh glare and the dangerous angry glint returns to his eyes.  An incredulous undertone seeps into his voice.

“I...was...fucking….shot!” he hisses each word quietly, venomously, spitting each syllable as though he wishes it would send you further away from him .  You don’t move, but merely purse your lips, raise an eyebrow, and shrug.  

“Join the club.”  You say.  “It was a clean shot, Peña, it went right through you...you’ll be fine in a few weeks. Although…” you gesture towards his clenched middle, “Not if you keep being an idiot and trying to do stuff on your own. You’ll tear your stitches.”  

Javier lets out a huff of breath and grunts as he tries to right himself back flat onto the sofa, trying unsuccessfully to swing his legs back onto the couch without utilizing any of the muscles or tendons in his midsection and core so close to his injury.  You watch him struggle for a moment, waiting.  Finally, he lets out a resigned sigh that does a decent impression of a growl and stills, tilting his head towards you, but refusing to meet your eyes.  

You wait a moment longer and then shake your head at him again, grasping his ankles and tossing them perhaps not as gently as you could have back up onto the sofa.  The quick motion causes him to bite back a pained moan in the back of his throat behind clenched jaw, lips pressing together into two thin lines, eyes squeezed shut once again.  After a moment, he lets out a relieved breath through his nose, eyes opening wide for a moment then blinking rapidly a few times.  He glances over at you as you strong-arm the heavy wooden coffee table over closer towards the couch and rearrange the items on the edge within his reach: plate of food, glass, pill bottle, television remote, cordless phone, cigarettes and ashtray, sidearm.  All the essentials you think to yourself, smirking while you watch from beneath your eyelashes as he surveys the items petulantly, assessing to make sure that he wasn’t actually in any prolonged pain.  You glance at the right side of his blue button down and notice no traces of seeping blood spots on the garment anywhere along his torso. You straighten, satisfied that the stubborn man hasn't pulled his stitches open.

“OK.” You puff.  “That ought to be good for you for a while.  Try to get some sleep if you can...I’ll check back in with you in a few hours.”  You snatch his keys off the end table next to the couch and put them in your pocket.  You look back at him, eyebrows raised.  “Anything else I can get you before I leave, Princess?”  He rolls his eyes and doesn’t answer, just gives you a sulky look before moving his gaze to stare at the ceiling.  You nod once, receiving the message loud and clear. “Ok then.”  You spin around and head towards the door, calling over your shoulder, “Don’t forget to take your antibiotic.”

You chose to ignore the mumbled “go to hell” you hear muttered after you.

-------

Six and a half hours laters, you haul your exhausted body through the heavy late night darkness back into your building.  The last thing you want is to stop by Peña’s apartment and put up with his crap after the craziness of the day, but as you climb the stairs to his floor, you wonder if you are maybe being a little too harsh on the man...then you shake that thought off.  Fuck that!  You think.  I’ve been shot three times and I’ve never been rude to someone when they’ve tried to help me out.  He’s just being a dick.

You rummaged in your pocket and fish out his keys.  You enter the dark apartment, calling his name softly, announcing your entrance.  You receive no response and follow the muted flashing light of the TV illuminating the living room.  He’s still stretched out on the couch, one arm flung up above and behind his head, face turned towards the TV screen, eyes closed.  Judging by his breathing pattern you’d bet a pack of cigarettes that he’s only pretending to be asleep, hoping you’ll just leave him alone.  Fine with me. You collect the cleaned plate and empty glass, carrying both to the kitchen and refilling them before returning them to their place on the table in front of him without a word.  

Several top buttons on his shirt are undone; you can see the edges of the tape and bandages from his injury peeking out along the edge. Leaning over him carefully, you lightly move his loosened shirt aside to glance at his bandages, checking more closely for any stains.  Seeing nothing, you glance up at his face and see that his eyes are open now.  They bore into you out of the corners of his eyes, but his head stays turned towards the flashing screen across the room. Your own gaze snags on his dark one and almost instantaneously, you can feel every atom charge and spark in the room.  You are suddenly very aware of how close you are to him and you straighten.  You inquire if he needs help getting to the bathroom or if he wants to move to his room and he shakes his head in response to both.  You clear your throat softly and step away from him, considering the items on the coffee table. 

Your gaze settles on the pill bottle and you snatch it up.  Opening the small orange container you dump the contents into the palm of your hand and quickly count the oblong yellow capsules.  Goddamnit! You think to yourself and shoot the man on the couch a sharp glare.  He meets your eyes with his own sideways gaze, then very intentionally sweeps his eyes back towards the TV.

“You need to take your antibiotic, Peña.”  Nothing.  You sigh heavily.  “Stop being such a baby and take your damn pill!  I’m tired, I need a shower and I don’t feel like dealing with a fucking infant right now.”  He turns his head, considering you for a moment, then quietly repeats his earlier reply regarding taking the antibiotic before turning back to the screen.  How much trouble would you get in if you punched a fellow agent that had just been shot?  You take a step forward menacingly.  “Peña, I swear to fucking God-”

“Get out of my apartment!”  He says quietly.  “And take that shit with you.” He gives a small nod with his chin towards the pills in your hands.  

“What is your problem?  It’s medicine, Peña, I’m not asking you to do a line of coke!”  

“I fuckin’ know what it is, I don’t-”

“This is fucking ridiculous!” You explode, shoving the pills back into the bottle and capping it before throwing it angrily towards his prone body, finding its mark in the center of his chest.  “You might as well have asked those fucking sicarios to shoot you in the head instead if you’re not going to take care of yourself.  I’m not hauling your ass back to the hospital when that gets infected and I’m sure as hell not going to deal with your sorry corpse when you die alone on your couch in this fucking apartment because you were too damn stubborn to swallow a God damn pill.  Too God damn stubborn to let somebody help you just a little when you need it.”  You’re panting now, enraged by your body’s own betrayal of you with that outburst.  You can feel tears stinging behind your eyes and that only serves to make you more angry.  

Your brain knows he is acting this way because he’s in pain, because his adrenaline has worn off, because he’s trying not to think about what might have happened if the bullet had been one or two centimeters to the left.  You’ve experienced this yourself.  But your feelings are still hurt by his behavior.  Your boss had given you explicit orders to see to it that your partner made a quick and full recovery.  You were really just trying to do your job and didn’t need this prick treating you like shit!  You take a deep breath into your belly, refusing to let your voice crack in front of this ungrateful son of a bitch.  For a moment you consider just walking out and leaving him there. 

But you are not a quitter. You’ve never given up on anything in your life, especially when it comes to anything having to do with your career.  He was stubborn...oh yes.  But God damn it, so are you.  You cross your arms in front of your chest and stare at him, thinking for a moment.

You ponder your relationship with this infuriating man over the past year and change.  At first you had loathed him...and the only real interest he had in you initially had been about getting you into bed.  When it quickly became clear that that was not going to happen, his interest in you had become non existent….until it wasn’t.  Until you had proven yourself more competent, capable and intuitive than most every other person he worked with in the agency, save only for perhaps himself.  A grudging professional respect had grown and, as the weeks turned to months, a genuine and friendly camaraderie had rooted itself between the two of you.  You would dare at times to even refer to the two of you as friends.  He still drove you crazy and enraged you daily and he had never really denied or hidden the fact that he still wanted you. There were times you would catch him looking at you with a sparkle in his eye that you knew meant trouble.  Or, occasional moments like the one that had just happened: when the air between the two of you danced with static energy, charged with the unspoken desire that he (and sometimes you) would prefer to so easily give in to. But his professional respect for you outweighed that want and you had made it clear that you would not be sleeping with your partner, not ever.  And, for the most part, he respected that declaration save for the occasional half-joking, half-serious suggestive comment. They annoyed you, but you also realized he made them in an effort to determine if you had changed your mind.  You always shot him down and would make some remark that put him back in his place, but you never felt like he was pushing you, merely that he was checking to see if the needle had moved at all.  Perhaps…

An idea drifted through your thoughts and planted itself in your head.  You felt a tiny smirk play on your lips as you tilted your head slightly and looked at him thoughtfully.  He saw the change in your composure, recognizing that you had hit on something.  His eyes became guarded and you knew he was preparing himself to snarl back at whatever idea you had cooked up.

“What if I make you a deal…” You throw out slowly.  His eyes narrow and he says nothing, waiting to hear more.  You take a step towards him, snatching the pill bottle from off of his chest where it had landed.  You gaze at the label, considering for another moment, then let your eyes slide up to meet his.  You hold the bottle up.  “What if…”  you lick your lips, knowing how he reacts when you do that, then bring your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, taking another half step closer to him.  “What if I told you that I’ll kiss you if you take your pill.”  His eyes grow wide and instantly flash with desire and interest, then almost as quickly snap back into a narrow question.

“You’re telling me that if I take my pill, you’ll make out with me?”  The disbelief is evident in his voice.  It sounded too good to be true.

“No.” You correct him firmly.  “I said I would kiss you.”  He studies you for several long moments, thinking over the proposal.  Then, he carefully raises his head, adjusts the pillow slowly behind it to prop himself up a little more, and lets out a deep, contemplative sigh as he leans back again and makes a counter offer.

“Hmmmm. That’s an interesting deal.  But I’d like to alter the wording a bit.”  You raise your eyebrows slightly, indicating he should continue.  The corners of his lips twitch upward.  “One pill, one kiss.”  Your eyes narrow at the broad unspecificity of his suggestion...and the potential for a much more complicated next 10 days.  

“Seriously, Peña?  You would really hold me to something like this for 10 days because you’re too fucking childish to take medicine?”  He shrugs.

“It was your idea.” He points out.  You sigh, tilt your head back aghast and stare at the ceiling for a moment, considering. Finally, you snap your head back down.

“Fine. Deal. Whatever.  One pill, one kiss.”  He tries to suppress the smile growing beneath his mustache, but he doesn’t try too terribly hard.  You move the last two steps to the couch, hand him the glass of water, and  dump one of the pills into your hand, holding it out between your thumb and index finger, dropping it into his open palm.  He sighs happily, smiling like a cat that just ate the canary, tosses it down his throat and chases it with several long gulps of water.  He releases a small gasp as he moves the glass away from his lips and you raise your eyebrows and hitch your chin upwards, pointing towards your own mouth, indicating that he should let you see inside his own.  He rolls his eyes but grins and opens his mouth wide, lifting his tongue and showing you that he had indeed swallowed it.  You sigh, crack your neck in either direction, then drop to your knees next to the couch, bringing yourself nearly level with his face.

Before you can think too much or before he can try anything to prolong the type of kiss you have planned, you clasp his jaw on either side with both hands and bring your own lips down to meet his.  You try to ignore how incredibly soft they are, and the smoky taste of his last cigarette ghosting up from them; how you can catch a faint whiff of his aftershave and how defined and strong his jawline feels beneath your fingers.  You also choose to ignore how your heart begins to pound frantically and the jolt you feel between your legs at the soft sound he makes deep in his throat when your lips touch.  You feel his hand come up to the side of your head and you allow it….for now.  He gently twines the tips of his fingers into your hair and places his thumb on your cheek, stroking it once, twice, ever so softly and gently.  You had planned a quick, fairly chaste kiss, but now that your lips were attached to his, the brief moment you had had in mind stretches into two longer moments, then into three, then another moment more...then suddenly it seems you’ve somehow forgotten how to count or determine any length of time at all.  You feel like your stomach is being pulled through your shoes and your brain starts to cloud as the soft breath from his nose caresses your skin.  You’ve never kissed anyone with a mustache before and you’re not sure how you feel about it….but then you decide that you're actually pretty sure you like the added sensation of the tiny hairs dancing across the sensitive skin of your upper lip.  Your mind starts to unfog when you feel his mouth open slightly and the tip of his tongue slips out, cautiously exploring along the seam of your own mouth, trying unsuccessfully to request entrance…

...you get a huge level of satisfaction when you watch him chase you needily with his lips, eyes still closed when you pull away quickly, breaking the kiss before it becomes something more than a business transaction.  He follows the wake of your kiss, searching the air blindly with his lips for the feeling of yours again, he stretches towards you, raising himself up.

“Ah, fuck!”  He gasps suddenly, collapsing back onto the couch in pain as his injury forcefully pulls him back into his convalescence, leaving him unable to pursue you further.  You chuckle and stand quickly, not feeling at all sorry for him one little bit.  As he grunts in pain and protest, you head out the door, calling over your shoulder as you leave. 

“Don’t forget to eat that sandwich, you’re supposed to take the medicine with food.”

 Day Two

#javier peña x reader #narcos #javi #javier pena x female reader

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T

Words: ~800

Summary: His family’s not present, the third time he runs away. They never see the creature he becomes.

Early corruption AU.

In which Connie shows up and passes on some information.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. Thank you! <3

____

Connie Maheswaran’s alarm clock was nearing 6 AM when she found herself rudely stirred by those ambiguous yet hauntingly familiar stress nightmares.

Not ten minutes later, she was fully clothed, awake and doing some catch-up studying, mostly as an weak excuse to push recent troubling events off her mind.

Regardless of her attempts at self-distraction, she caved to her baser impulses and decided to try her hand at calling Steven around 7:40, knowing full well that he also has a penchant for poor sleep and waking up early, even on weekends. In retrospect, she supposes it was fear that prompted that phone call. Fear of losing her best friend. Fear that if she failed to reach out, he’d never speak to her again. She still feels terrible for the heartbreak and embarrassment he endured at that picnic, and given what happened at the hospital, he doesn’t seem to be over it. With that in mind, she honestly didn’t expect he’d pick up at all.

Yet pick up he did. Connie still doesn’t believe she possesses the vocabulary to properly describe the strange vibes she read from him during all that. He seemed... off. Overly chipper, perhaps. Deliberately evasive.

The disturbingly glitched plea for help came a few minutes past that encounter. Next, the news that he’d disappeared. Her review session dragged along at a snail’s pace after that.

By noon, she couldn’t bear the insufferable burden of so many unknowns anymore. Forget finalizing all her notecards for that stupid AP biology exam, her best friend could be in trouble! Who on Earth can focus on studying with peril like that hanging over their head? She doesn’t want to wait at the sidelines for updates, she wants to help! So she grabbed her shoes, slung her sword’s scabbard over her back, and set off to Beach City on Lion, who had thankfully been snoozing in her backyard the whole past day. And that, as they say, is history.

“Yeah, I was talking to him, like... just a few minutes before he sent that text!” Connie explains to two of Steven’s guardians, gently petting the cotton candy mane of the magical lion resting in the sand next to her. He offers a content rumble under the comfort of her touch. The affection is admittedly rather reassuring, considering the whole troubling pickle they’re all in right now.

“And he didn’t seem to be in any immediate peril?” Pearl asks, tracing abstract patterns in the sand.

“No,” she says, tilting her head as she considers what she recalls about that strange conversation. “Well... not any physical peril. He did hang up pretty fast, though.”

“So he’s been avoiding you, too, then,” Amethyst— keeping Steven’s favorite jacket warm— mutters glumly, twirling one of her fingers through a long strand of her hair.

“Um...” Connie can’t help but cringe as the unpleasant rollercoaster of emotions she’s had to experience throughout the last week suddenly rears its ugly head again. “It’s kinda complicated. I’m not really sure how much I should say, or if I should say anything, y’know? Some of it’s personal.”

Amethyst offers a laugh and tries to give her a teasing noogie, which she deftly pulls away from. “If it’s about that whole proposal thing, trust me, we know.”

She flushes deep, gaze dropping to her lap. “I, uh... that’s part of it.”

At Pearl’s gentle request, she tells them both about Steven’s picnic date, and about his trip to the hospital two days later. About his issue with glowing pink and swelling, something which the Gems reveal they’ve witnessed, too. Her recounting of how he nearly wrecked an entire check-up room and shattered the windows with naught but a raised voice seems to particularly catch Amethyst’s attention, however, causing her to ask a good few follow-up questions. Connie chooses not to pry about it then, but she recognizes the look of a detective with a lead when she sees it.

She waits until they’re alone about a half hour later to ask.

“I dunno,” Amethyst shrugs in response to her query, gripping a snow-cone in her hand, “it’s just that... the others have been pretending like the wreckage to the house and everything Steven’s been dealing with lately are two entirely separate things, but... the more I think about it, the more I can’t believe they are. And for me, what you told us ‘bout the hospital kinda just sells it.”

Connie frowns pensively, crossing her arms across her chest. “I can see how he might’ve wrecked the house by swelling too big, but... what about the clawed footprints? The roar?”

The quartz’s gaze shifts towards the ocean horizon, her expression hardening into something unreadable.

“Well, I have my suspicions... and my fears. Just no way to prove ‘em yet.”

#su #su future #connie maheswaran #amethyst #pearl #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

[shiversdownyerspine]

7. Premeditated

GETTING WARMER FOR ALL THEM OTTO PEEPS. >:D

18+

You take a deep steadying breath into your hands, dragging them down your face as you breathe out. Stars twinkling in the window, you lean forward against the counter as your body shivers uncontrollably. With your elbows atop the counter, you wait once again for your kettle to boil, already dreading morning. 

This can't go on. At this rate, you're going to drink all the coffee in your home! But what can you do except wait? You've done it time and time again; wrap up in your covers, drink your piping hot tea, and catch a couple hours of sleep before the cold sets in again and you start the whole process over. Rinse and repeat the whole night away, the week away, until the chill that has made a home in your bones eases its grip. For a time.

Lips parting on a shaky sigh, you fiddle with your sleeve, allowing your flannel pajamas' polka dot pattern to distract you from your joyless thoughts. Feeling the fuzzy interior around the inside of the cuff, you miss the meager vestiges of body heat that had long disappeared into the night. Small as they were, at least they had been something. Your head swivels to eye your stove, the little flame burning under your kettle, and hop up on the counter to sit. Not too close to the flame, but close enough to soak up some of the heat.

As the water bubbles in its confines, you quickly switch off the stove and pop the kettle up before it can start to whistle. Filling your classic mug of chamomile tea, your thoughts once again fall; this was much easier to handle when you had no guests, no one to pick up on your little problem. Of course that's not their fault, and you're certainly not blaming them, just appreciating a freedom that you were unaware of before. 

Smile pulling at your lips, you recall a couple days prior how you taunted the three before disappearing to your room before revenge could be had. Your familiarity with the men has certainly been making you bold. Honestly, you're kind of surprised no one has retaliated against you, but on the other hand, the suspense offers a sort of retribution all on its own. You doubt that'd be enough for them though.

This introspection has you distracted well and good, to the point that when the tallest brother leaves the guestroom and walks barefoot to your kitchen, you had yet to notice him until he was practically in front of you. Deja vu strikes; your grasp falters, hands fumbling with your drink with the familiar sudden appearance of a long john wearing man. Wide eyed, you blink up at Otto as he scans you head to toe, taking in your shivering layers and that you are once more preparing a drink late in the night.

He is direct, "You're awake, why?"

Judging by his determined tone, the man is on a hunt. You fidget, "Can't sleep sometimes."

He snorts, "Weeks of bad sleep? No."

He gestures to your kettle, "Drink, why?"

Your answer is technically honest, "...I get cold sometimes."

With narrow eyes, he crushes your wish that he would leave it at that, "Cold why?" 

Your gaze lowers to your steaming cup, pouting just a little, "I was kind of hoping you'd just assume it's because I'm smaller in stature." Otto waits patiently, folding his arms in victory.

Tapping a nervous rhythm on the sides of your mug, you give it a go, "Well, you all know about my regeneration? So...I suffered a serious injury to my diaphragm and my ribcage when I was young and my healing was in..early development. It did heal, but not...uh..the way it should have...it was..different? Wrong?" 

Your brow furrows with frustration, "I-I'm sorry, I know I'm not being very clear, but the only way I'd know for certain is with a doctor visit...which I can't do for...many reasons. Basically all I have is just...theory." 

You sip your drink, eyes drifting back up to Otto.

"I think when the injury healed, it healed incorrectly and permanently. Because of that, I have difficulty generating and sustaining my own body heat. It just slips away sometimes. It took a good while to get used to these...random cold spells. They don't hurt, not really, I just...lose out on more sleep than I'd like."

Although the colder seasons are...pretty rough. You can't lie to yourself about that.

Otto cocks his head, frowning. He takes a moment to find the words, which he speaks softly, "All your blankets..sweaters...ah..hot drinking?" 

You smile to confirm, patting the knit blanket on your shoulder as you hum, "Yup, all to help with my condition. Well...not exclusively. I do enjoy all those things quite a bit, so even if I didn't have this little problem, I don't know if my tastes would be much different. There's just something about knit-wear and hot cocoa that makes me happy." You grin, wiggling your feet in the heavy fuzzy socks that currently adorn them, displaying your enjoyment of their softness. You can get a bit silly when you're so tired.

The look he gives you is...focused. Judging by the tense set of his jaw and the soft popping of his knuckles as his hands curl into fists, it's almost like he's...

"Who hurt you?" 

Your thought process is abruptly cut off. You blink in mild surprise...he's not asking what, but who. Does he suspect it wasn't some sort of accident then? You do have a lack of pictures around your home, no friends or family from before you became affiliated with the Commission, so maybe he reasoned that your isolation had something to do with an aversion to people? And not just fear of your ability being discovered?...The man pays attention.

The smile on your face fades as you fall still, thinking carefully. Of course you were trying to figure out some sort of way to answer his question without diving into dangerous waters, but you find that his question is pulling from you some honest consideration; you weren't sure how you felt about the agents that brought you to that man, but in the end they were just doing their jobs...you don't even know if they had any idea what was actually going on. Regardless of intent, you have no warm thoughts or feelings to spare for them. But, there was only one person that made the feathers on the back of your neck stand on end with just a thought.

"It doesn't matter, they're long gone now. Good riddance." Your last sentence leaves your lips in a quiet hiss.

Ottos frown deepens into a furious scowl, "Where."

Your hands squeeze your mug, "Dead. I promise."

You're fairly certain you're the one that did it. You had gotten some flickers of memory quite a while back, one in particular had been of a man in...dire need of assistance as he flailed uselessly underneath long frantically swiping claws. He hadn't really been recognizable under all the mess and gore...but oh, there was this feeling.

The tension in the large man seems to ease, but Otto pauses with curiosity and surprise as he processes the pure vitriol in your voice, "You kill?"

You stumble over your words, "I...well, anyone can kill...if they're backed into a corner, right? If there's no other way out, and...and really.." 

Your voice trails off at about the same time as your mind does, beginning the descent into fuzzy memory.

You're not even sure why you're fighting the urge to panic; these men are assassins, killing is a part of their life. They understand ending a life to defend oneself... but that isn't the problem, is it. It's not that someone might think less of you, it's that...you don't remember. 

"I barely remember doing it. I don't remember what I was thinking or what I felt. I don't remember being shot at, but I do remember the pain. Bullets and blood spilling out. I don't remember if that man said anything before I started mauling him. I don't remember if when I had staggered up off the floor after a never-ending beating if..if I'd ran or tracked the man down first and...what sort of person has that maliciousness at 12 years old?"

Sighing, you scrub a hand tiredly over your face, the thick silence in the air bringing your gaze back up to Otto and...oh...you'd said everything out loud.

Color drains from your face as your eyes fall to the half full cradle of tea that is the inside of your mug. The exhaustion swallows any further panic as you mumble an apology, that you didn't intend to burden him.

Bare feet quietly pat against the kitchen floor as the man steps closer to you, burning fingertips gracing your cheek. Deep in the back of your mind you're reminded of Axel's touch, but it isn't quite the same because it's Otto's. The warmth has you leaning into his palm, seeking more instinctively to chase the chill away. It's not enough.

Otto is quiet for a moment, searching for the words before he describes their first kill, how the brothers had been young as well but older than you were. Young adults. They hadn't been employed by the Commission yet, but what you can gather from the little he gives of the situation is that they were protecting Oscar. It happened so quickly, didn't feel real. It weighed heavy on them, got easier with time. Still have rare moments where it's heavy again, old thoughts, memories. He rests his nose and lips at the top of your head, lightly in your hair. Like you. You are like them.

Perched up on the counter, your knees lightly brush his hips as he stands close, nearly between your legs as his hand cups the back of your neck. His palm rests oh so lightly atop your feathers, careful not to ruffle or stress, only offering a sheepish sort of comfort. His scent surrounds you, and it's fresh laundry and unexplainably his own and it's making you dizzy, everything is making you fuzzy and you're so drained and he's so so close...

Impulsivity, desperation, and prolonged sleeplessness has stolen away your common sense as you scoot closer to him. Your arms wrap tentatively over his shoulders in a loose hug, carefully leaning in as you tuck your face tiredly into his neck. Otto goes very still and quiet for a moment, before a quiet expletive in Swedish leaves his mouth. His palm remains on your nape, neither of you moving as you bask in his warmth.

Your lips are ticklish as they brush against his skin, murmuring a muffled bashful apology about clinginess and coldness and he can feel your hands slipping away from him. Impulsivity can be very contagious; before your touch has the chance to leave him completely, both of his big hands slip to your back and he's pulling you right back into him. Any response you have dies on your tongue, stunned and a bit timid as he pulls you forward off the counter, chest to chest. Otto has one of his arms curled under your rear, the other hand splayed at the middle of your back as he walks to the living room.

He insists, "You need to sleep."

Otto supposes he really should have just set you down after pulling you off the counter, but that doesn't necessarily mean he needs to detangle from you right now...just when he reaches your door. And when your legs aren't quite so snug around him. Of course.

Flustered, you pull back from his neck and remind him, "Sleep is easier said than done. Drinks and blankets help but it's only temporary, it comes back and I wake up."

He pauses before he can reach the hallway, scowling at your predicament. And then he wonders about you taking initiative to boldly press to him for what he had first considered to be emotional comfort...but now? You're not shivering as much so...

He offers curiously, "Body heat?"

Your mouth open, closes, then opens again, "I..um.."

Reflexive embarrassment fades as you take a moment to really think about it; you had had short professional relationships in your life, tentative friendships when you were younger that you had abandoned in the end, holding everyone at arm's length...when was the last time you had indulged in a simple hug? When you were a child?

You answer quietly, "I don't know."

Otto redirects his path and walks to the sofa instead, listening, "It's possible? I never really had the chance to find out, never mind finding the trust for it. It just didn't seem like a good idea to get that close to someone, anyone. It was too much of a risk, all things considered."

The large man understands, in a way. He knows his brothers would understand this kind of hesitation as well; caution had to be taken in many aspects of their lives working for the Commission as assassins, they still remember the early paranoia itching at the back of their minds when they first started. Luckily they had each other to rely on in their lives, not to mention the later experience to read intent and confidently indulge in a good fuck every now and then to chase away the touch deprivation.

But you...you had adopted solitude from a much earlier age, had molded your life around isolation. Sure, it wasn't exactly the same, but the similarities were there.

As he unwinds your legs from him so he can sit comfortably with you on his lap, his mind slips unbidden to other thoughts. Your earlier mention of a lack of social interaction and now admitting to a lack of touch confirmed that there were certain...activities...you had never experienced. Oscar had a point when he teased eating you out; the thought of your spread thighs shaking in his hands at the unfamiliar feeling of his wet mouth on you is intoxicating, but it may also be a necessary extra preparation before he fucks y-

Otto rips his mind from lurid thoughts, reminding himself to concentrate on his original effort to help you. Hopefully that would prevent his cock from rising to attention under your soft rear. You peer at the large man; he had gone quiet for a moment, drifting away...maybe he was processing or finding the words he wanted to say? 

You eye the flush on his face, concerned for a moment that your actions had finally made him uncomfortable before he flicks his hair out of his face and asks with a mild strain, "Curious so..find out? Answer?"

You consider putting an end to your invasion of his space, time, and sleep, feeling you had imposed enough. Strangely though, you don't quite seem to have the will to pull away from Otto. You find yourself relenting and accepting. It was too tempting, the thought of finally having relief from this stubborn cold spell. You'd brush aside your shyness and impropriety, especially if it meant you could finally sleep through the night undisturbed.

With your consent, Otto pulls you down to the couch on your sides with you still tucked in to him. Reaching for the quilt on the back of the sofa, he tugs it down and gives a couple of good single-handed shakes to unfold it before tossing it messily over the two of you with a grunt. His ears burn when he hears the muffled giggle at his minor predicament reverberate against his chest, responding to you with a huff, "Sleep."

And you do. You sleep for hours right through the night and well into morning as your body insists on you taking the opportunity.

Otto wakes to the sound of his younger brother wandering out of their guest room, but his eyes remain closed, more interested in focusing on the feel of your soft weight on his chest. Oscar wanders in to the living room to offer Butternut and Pumpkin a morning scratch, but notices the quilt missing from the back of the sofa. Figuring the cats might have messed with it, he wanders over to the aforementioned piece of furniture and nearly doesn't believe his eyes when he sees who are resting on the cushions. Is this an emergency? It has to be. He has to show Axel, it is an emergency.

Otto's ears perk as he listens to Oscar retreat to their room and return a moment later with an extra set of footsteps. Both feet stop at the back of the sofa, and the reclining man feels a pair of eyes looking intently down upon the two of you. Otto cracks open an eye, muttering that you most likely won't be up for a while longer. With a sigh, Axel trudges off to the kitchen to prepare food, insisting on a replay of last night's events when he's finished.

Earlier on, your habit of staying up late and waking in the night had made the eldest and his brothers a bit...antsy. As time went on their suspicions quickly died down, reasoning that your habits were simply a mild form of insomnia. They've all had their fair share of sleepless nights, yet over the course of a couple of weeks, you had steadily been staying up longer and longer and appearing more weary by the day. And as you fought to keep up, they could only watch with growing concern as you were slowly submerged. They had began to wonder if the culprit was something else.

As Axel prepares coffee and breakfast, Oscar heads off to check on the kittens and feed them while you are indisposed of. Otto waits patiently for his brothers to return and give him what he knows will be their undivided attention. He dips his chin down to watch you curiously; judging from your slow deep breathing, you are still very much dead to the world. Well, he supposes this means you both found the answer to the question of body heat to be a firm 'yes'. His brothers return shortly, leaning against the back of the sofa and eyeing you with not so subtle relief.

Otto begins his retelling by first asserting that it hadn't been insomnia like they thought, but an old injury made into a persistent condition by your ability. And just like he had found himself incensed as you accidentally revealed bits of your attack, so too did his brothers become possessive and protective; their lips twitching with the urge to bare teeth, postures tense and eyes blazing. Of course Oscar's rage was the most outwardly evident, but he knew how to read Axel. They were all mad dogs really, all of them.

The surprise on their faces when he revealed your kill was satisfying to say the least. Their expressions gradually changed to approval as they processed the information; it was hard to believe that you, tiny little sweetheart that you are, had actually killed someone. Of course anyone in a dire situation could be capable of things they hadn't thought possible, but you ripped a man to shreds. As a kid. Not to mention you did it with your bare hands? Well...maybe not bare per se.

Axel rests his elbows atop the sofa, hands clasped together as his attention returns once again to your ability. Oscar peers down at you in fascination and quiet disbelief. The eldest and youngest brothers' thoughts are eerily similar, the two men compare your unanticipated ferocity with the first time they saw your Phase; when Otto had caught you, the claws on your hands hadn't seemed all that significant...but then again they hadn't really asked all that much about the aspects of your ability, hadn't felt the need as they had taken your changes at face-value.

But what if there was more to it than general appearance? They weren't threatened, no, they were intrigued. After all, you had proven time and time again that you weren't interested in fighting or killing, even as they presented themselves as threats to you more than once...and not once did you attack them.

Needless to say, they have some more questions for you when you wake up. And perhaps a couple of changes as well.

#the swedes #ikea mafia #tua swedes #the swedes x reader #umbrella academy swedes #tua axel #tua otto #tua oscar

[sisterspooky1013]

Perfect Opposites, chapter two

Rating: General Audiences

Read it on AO3

Tagging @today-in-fic

You all requested a chapter two, so here it is

I couldn’t forget it if I tried. I’ve turned it over in my memory so many times by now that it comes back to me like a well trained muscle repeating a familiar movement. There were a lot of little moments before that, but this one in particular stands out because it was the first one where I realized that he felt the same way I did.

We were an odd pairing from the start; he a pragmatic, analytical planner and me an idealistic, carefree dreamer. He used to call me a “loose cannon” and at first it was truly meant as an insult, said in a moment of frustration, but over time it became a term of endearment. That first day we worked together, I immediately noticed how handsome he was, tall and blonde with a square jaw and slim hips. He was so stoic, and my attempts to get to know him were met with one-word answers and pleas to focus on our assignment. I knew that I wasn’t bad-looking, and in fact I was quite used to men responding to me readily, so it felt like a fun challenge to try and crack his shell. I wasn’t trying to sleep with him; I was smart enough to know what that would do to my reputation. I was one of the first dozen female field agents to serve and I wasn’t about to blow it for all the others by hopping right into bed with my partner. But I was intrigued by his guarded demeanor, and the more he resisted me the more I wanted to know him. He insisted on calling me Rogers, even though I asked him repeatedly to call me Bridget. At first I called him Harry, but then I started calling him Hansen just to make a point and it stuck. It became a dance; I would tease and flirt with him, he would ignore my advances while we worked a case, and every once in a while he would give me a little something. First, it was little jokes, told so dryly that I had to look for the barely-there smirk on his lips to be sure he was intentionally being funny. Getting him to smile was a game in and of itself, but when I got one it was like magic. He was so beautiful when he smiled, and it became a drug I was always seeking. Over time, little by little, he started to trust me, and confide in me. He turned off the AM radio on our long drives and talked to me, not just about work.

One day he turned to me while we were driving, smiling about some stupid program he’d seen on TV the night before, and I realized that I was in love with him. I can’t say now when that happened, exactly, but in that moment I knew it, and that started the years of pushing it down, of going out with other men and pretending that he wasn’t the only one I wanted. It was so hard and heartbreaking, and I thought about asking to be reassigned dozens of times, but I couldn’t give up on the chance to be near him every day. As different as we were, he complimented me so perfectly that he became my equilibrium, the thing that grounded me to the place I was in space and time. I didn’t know how to exist without him. I was faced with an impossible choice; leave the bureau and try to have a happy life without the other half of my heart, or stay and resign to a life of pining for him across the console of our rental car. Of course there really wasn’t a choice. I could no sooner have left him than I could have chosen not to breathe anymore.

I’ve thought about that September night so many times, I can still remember the way his gingham table cloth felt under my fingertips as I nervously traced its pattern, waiting for the news I had been dreading for the last three years. He’d been seeing someone, and I just knew he was going to tell me it was getting serious, that they were getting engaged. I was afraid that I would cry, and he would ask me why, and then he’d know. He was sitting close, closer than most people would to their coworker, but that’s how we were. And he was telling me about this woman, Donna, and I felt so sick.

“I broke it off with her” he had said, and I looked at him, confused. “It just wasn’t right, Rogers. She’s a nice lady, but it just…it didn’t feel right. She’s not the one.”

I was so flooded with relief that I actually did start crying, and of course he was confused. Why would I be crying because he broke up with his girlfriend? He knelt down in front of me, and he held my hands in his, and he was just so sweet. He was always so sweet with me.

“Rogers, what’s wrong? Are you upset about Donna?”

I didn’t know what else to say, or how else to explain it, so I just nodded.

“I know we seemed like a good match, but she’s not the one. She’s the kind of person I always thought I’d end up with, but I’m realizing that I was wrong about what I wanted. About who I wanted.”

I looked at him then, at his crystal blue eyes. It felt like he was looking straight into my soul. He was searching my face like he was looking for an answer, but didn’t know what the question was.

“Bridget, have you ever just realized all of a sudden that everything you thought you knew was wrong?”

He called me by my first name. I nodded, and I thought of that moment in the car. And he was still looking all over my face, and at my mouth, and it felt like we were suspended in space, adrift in a moment that could never go forward or backward. Stuck until we made a choice. We had to make a choice.

He kissed me then, so softly, and we returned to Earth together, having found new ground. Having found each other. Even though we’d worked together and been best friends for 8 years, something entirely new was born that night, and we spent the next 20 years making up for the 8 we had wasted.

I was thinking about this at my retirement party, while the other agents ate grocery store cake and politely looked at photos of my grandchildren. When Agents Mulder and Scully walked in, I couldn’t suppress my smile. Agent Scully walked over to me with a secret smile on her lips, one she always sent my way when we were in the same room together. We had never spoken of our conversation in the bathroom last year, but she always went out of her way to say hi to me.

“Agent Hansen, congratulations” she said warmly, taking my hand in what felt more like a hand-hug than a handshake.

“Thank you, Agent Scully. I look forward to spending more time with my grandchildren.”

Agent Mulder walked up then. He sure was a handsome man, and somehow seemed to get better looking as the years went by.

“Agent Hansen, the time has come!” He said jovially. “I only wish Harry could be here retiring alongside you, he would have loved this little shindig.” There was heavy sarcasm in his tone; he knew Harry would have hated the fuss.

“You knew Harry Hansen?” Agent Scully asked him with genuine surprise.

“Of course, we worked together in VCU. I liked to give him a hard time. He reminded me a lot of you, actually” he said to Agent Scully with a gentle nudge of his elbow to her ribs.

“Sounds like he was a great guy” she joked, then “we have to catch a flight out for a case, Agent Hansen, but I wanted to come by and say goodbye. It’s been such a pleasure working with you.”

Agent Mulder looked at her a little quizzically, but I understood the meaning behind what she was saying. I shook her hand again, and held it in a little squeeze.

“I hope you’ll remember what I said” I told her, and she nodded once before they turned to leave. I was happy to be retiring, but I would miss watching them together and would always wonder if they ever found their way to each other.

A few months later, I was at the 7-11 picking up donuts for my grandsons when I heard a familiar voice in the next aisle. It was Agent Mulder, on his cell phone.

“Hey, sleepy head… It’s after 9, that’s hardly early… Well what were you doing staying up so late last night?” He chuckled, and the innuendo was clear even from the bit of the conversation I could hear. I felt sadness tug at my heart thinking that he was seeing someone, and how Agent Scully must feel. I knew exactly how she’d feel.

“We’ll I’m getting you breakfast now, and coffee, so hopefully that helps…I was thinking we could go to Annapolis tonight, there’s one of those movie in the park things, we could stop by and see your mom first…because no one in Annapolis knows us, so maybe you’ll actually be willing to be seen in public with me…you know what I mean, outside of work”

I couldn’t help but smile from my hiding spot behind the donut case. He was talking to Agent Scully.

“…well, think about and you can decide later….yes, I’ll be back in 15 minutes, go back to sleep if you want…Love you, bye.”

He paid and left, and an idea started cooking in my head. Annapolis wasn’t that far of a drive, and I didn’t exactly have an active social calendar. I just wanted to see them together again, one more time.

My plan had been to get there early so I’d be sure to catch them as they arrived, but through a combination of traffic, my own poor navigation skills (that had always been Harry’s strong suit) and lack of parking, I walked in to a full lawn and the previews already starting. Thankfully, her red hair was easy to spot and I found a place for my blanket just a few feet behind them. It was a little too close, and made the odds they would see and recognize me higher than I would have liked, but soon enough it was clear that it wouldn’t be an issue. They were in their very own universe, bordered by the ugly brown Aztec blanket they sat on. Agent Mulder was reclined against a cooler with Agent Scully between his legs, leaning against his torso like an Adirondack chair, his arms wrapped around her. He whispered in her ear and kissed her neck as she giggled. They looked more like two teenagers on a date than two federal agents and it reminded me of so many nights Harry and I snuck off for dates in some forgettable city after wrapping up a case, freed from the risk that someone from the bureau would see us together and report our relationship. Those were some of the most exciting times in my life, and watching them now…I felt the tears bubbling up in my eyes. They were happy tears, full of memories and love and hope. Full of the promise of a relationship forged in fire and turmoil, sealed by dedication and hard work. I knew I’d have to go visit Harry the next day and tell him all about it, and remember with him how clumsy and awkward we were in the beginning, peeling each other’s armor away slowly until it was just us, unguarded and vulnerable and the most seen we had ever been by another person, or ever would be again.

By the end of the movie, they were spooned together under the stars, the relative darkness allowing for a kind of public intimacy that would normally be out of place. She had fallen asleep, and Agent Mulder was watching her, tracing a finger along the shell of her ear before placing a kiss to her temple. He sighed and I could hear him whisper to no one in particular “my perfect opposite.”

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #xf fanfic

[darkhymns-fic]

Of Firsts and Seconds and Thirds

They shared their first kiss underneath the shade of a church, their second at the top of a windy mountain, their third in the quiet solitude of a dwarf's home.

But how many more until the guilt finally leaves?

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel Rating: T Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: For Colloyd Week, Day 3: First Kiss / Confession! Not much to say about this except that I've already written too many versions of their first kisses so I struggled with this one for a bit... Hopefully, it reads okay! Slightly higher rating because I wanted to be self-indulgent.

--

They shared their first kiss underneath a crooked awning of the temple, situated to the side where half of it was covered by the mountain’s shade, frayed banners picked up by the wind.

It was further away from the steep stairs that was overgrown with grass stalks, with moss that climbed in-between the cracks, making it far too easy to slip. And of course, Colette had done so when she left for her church lessons, only saved from a complete fall by Lloyd’s reflexes, even as his own boots almost sent them tumbling across the top steps. Only fifteen, but his own motions at least held more surety, his arms holding her up high.

Colette had scraped her knee, biting her lip to keep out a small whine from the sharp sting. Lloyd resumed the climb up the stairs, feeling quick relief when they arrived at the top and there were no nosy priests in sight, only the cool shadows over them. “How do you go up this every day without falling?” he asked, his smile sneaking through. “Good thing I came to walk with you.”

“I don’t usually slip here,” she had said. “Not unless…” And it was soft and quiet, her words traveling just underneath his ear as he carried her. The shade was comfortable, and he had only meant to set her down for a moment before finding his lips brushing against her own. Her hair tickled his forehead, and her hands reached to wrap around his shoulders, the way they always did whenever he’d swing her up in his arms as he helped her get on top of Noishe to ride.

The shade held them close, even as he felt a sliver of the sun rise to meet his neck. His hands moved to grip her waist – to keep her steady? Or himself? – before she stepped away.

“S-Sorry,” she said, looking away. Behind her was another entrance to the temple, a place where the candles hadn’t been lit inside, where no windows had been placed, the hallway dark. “Sorry, thank you. I mean… thank you for carrying me!”

Her voice was full of guilt. It made no sense to him. And yet she smiled all the same.

He was too late to say anything before she rushed inside the temple, her scrape forgotten, her hair moving as quick as the waves bathed in sunlight. Lloyd thought about following her, but he didn’t know the way inside the temple. That and the priests always turned him away, always made him feel so badly for wanting the Chosen to come outside with him to walk alongside the shore.

“What’s with you?” Genis had asked once Lloyd came back to the schoolhouse. “Colette rejected you coming along this time?” The boy had meant it as a joke, already laughing in his seat. But even he noticed the somber look in Lloyd’s face, how he collapsed into his chair.

“Uh huh…” was all he would say, tucking his head against his folded arms on the desk. The lesson conducting ahead of him was nothing but white noise as he went over the kiss again and again. He could only remember the feel of her hands on his shoulders, and how closely she had brought him in.

--

They shared their second kiss in Hima, after Colette asked him to follow her to the top of the cliff.

Hima was such a small village, smaller even then Iselia, with only its inn clearly seen from the entrance, while other structures and homes were placed at lower levels of the mountain. Lloyd felt the wind tug at his coat the higher he climbed, shivering and noticing through every step how Colette didn’t flinch at each gust at all.

Her broken necklace still in his pocket, he watched as she reached for his hand. He had taken off his gloves, wanting to understand her as easily as he could. “Can I…ask a…favor?” Lloyd blinked as he read aloud, raising his eyes to her. “What is it?”

At times, he thought he’d hear something from her – or maybe it was just wishful thinking. But the way she smiled reminded him of her laughter, the quick and playful comments she’d make about him, all of it uplifting and warm. Her fingers curled inside his palm, and when she traced them next, it was, at first, just to follow the lines across his hand, until…

Can you forgive me for hurting you?

Maybe, perhaps, he should have denied it outright. But her words brought a quick flash of certain things that stung his heart; her letter in his hands, the brush of her fingers when she took the coffee from him and smiled all the while, the shade of the mountain as she leaned towards him.

Lloyd was too late to hide it, and Colette bit her lip, tracing in his hand once more. That’s selfish of me.

“Wait, no, it’s not.” Lloyd gripped her hands, but lightly, because he still wanted to hear her words. “That’s not fair to you… after everything you’ve gone through.”

Colette smiled and it was painful in its shape, in the way it was so close to him. Her fingers again in his palm, their touch feather-light. And because it was so light, he scrunched his forehead as he focused on it, the constant wind on the mountaintop forever trying to distract him with its pull on his clothes, with its sound in his ears.

“I’ll just…k…keep… Agh, sorry it’s hard now…” Even when Colette finished writing, he tried to remember the shapes she made, painting herself into his touch. “Keep…hurting…you…”

He paused. Colette lowered her face just a bit, yet he could hear the cadence of her breathing. “I don’t really understand..”

When she leaned in to kiss him for a second time, was it really that bad to be selfish, to ask something from another so carefully, both hope and fear inside of you all at once?

Her lips were gentle, fitting over his, and maybe Lloyd was more clumsy, more self-conscious than last time, but her hair still tickled him. He might have kissed her for the rest of the night if the cold didn’t keep trying to freeze his hands.

“Colette…” he whispered, letting go for just a moment. Only later would he feel the guilt, when he realized she wasn’t able to feel it, any of it, along with the biting wind surrounding them. How was that even fair at all?

But she smiled again, hands gripping his own to lead them back down the mountain to the others.

Even then, she gave him back a piece of something he had felt missing since that summer day, with the banner of the temple fluttering next to them. She had chosen that, and he couldn’t bring himself to deny her that one freedom left to her.

--

They shared their third kiss at Altessa’s, the night sky numerous with stars, and his present held lightly between her fingers.

“Colette?” Lloyd called out from the front door, having found her bed empty, and the snores of Genis much too overpowering. “You’re still up?”

The old fear of the angelic sickness came back, but he saw her try to hide a yawn that didn’t look forced. She sat on a nearby wooden bench, boots making indents in the dirt. “I’m okay,” she said, and he was only half-convinced, her smile just barely seen through the moonlight. “I can sleep, I just don’t know if I want to yet.”

Maybe that should have been enough, along with the way she kept flicking her gaze to him when he went to sit beside her, then back to the skies. On nights like these, she would trace the patterns of the stars with him, and in Tethe’alla, he could already tell such patterns here were different. They’d have to start all over again, but he didn’t mind, just as he didn’t mind being out in the late night, as long as he could be with her.

The path to Altessa’s house was plain, and only to the side could he see the storage of the dwarf placed near the wall of his home, in wooden crates and clay pots. “You know, I wonder if this is how dad used to live…” he said absently. “Though he said his home was more underground.”

“Do you think he still has it? His old home, I mean?” Colette’s eyes sparkled at the idea, pulling out a grin from him. “Maybe we can ask to go visit it!”

“We could! But it probably has low ceilings… We’d be hitting our heads the entire time.”

“Then can you protect my head with yours? Genis always says you have the toughest head around!”

“Heh, well, I am tough… Hey, wait, I don’t think that’s a compliment!”

When she laughed, it was radiant almost. A sound that wasn’t filtered or dimmed, that seemed to shine all the brighter when she reached to take his hand. Her thumb brushed over his Exsphere, sending a warm tingle through him, and it made him think, made him want on that word, on selfishness.

Yet as Lloyd debated with himself, Colette had shifted close, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Soft. Sudden. I’ve missed this.

He knew it had been an instinctive thing from her. For it was just the moment her lips left his cheek did he see the change in her eyes. She held her hand loosely, unsure. “I’m…sorry? That just happened…I…”

It took everything in him to not sigh then.

“You’re so stupid,” he whispered, gripping her hand, bringing her close. And she didn’t turn away, even as he kissed her – but over her forehead, her skin warm over his lips. The wind brought in the scent of her hair, strands of them brushing his cheeks. “Why wouldn’t I want that from you?”

Colette opened her mouth, then closed it, one hand reaching for the necklace and pulling on it gently, the chain crinkling and turning in on itself. “I just… I just keep making mistakes with this…” A quick blink, and she looked to the floor. “I’m taught to not want it… but I did and so that’s why I ran and… and then I was selfish and took your kiss again when I couldn’t feel anything… and I really wanted to…”

Lloyd saw how the moonlight fell down her cheek – and so he followed it, kissing her skin there and hearing her take in a breath. Lingering, all as his hands moved to encircle her. “But you can feel that now, can’t you?”

Colette closed her eyes, leaning her head against his chest. Her lips rested against the base of his throat. “I can feel…too much…” But she didn’t sound distressed – she sounded eager, excited, and yet also content as she pressed against him.

Was there something else in him to then want to kiss her fully, to give her all that had been taken away? Maybe his own selfishness too, but he waited. He just embraced her instead, giving small kisses to her forehead, her cheek, and even the tip of her nose. It made her giggle, eliciting a smile from him. Only later, after more tickling kisses did he kiss her lips, and only when she raised her head to his.

He hoped she would never have to feel that old guilt again.

--

They shared their fourth kiss, their fifth, sixth, seventh – all continuing as if on a chain that Lloyd was keen to follow. In Flanoir, for why wouldn’t be drawn to kissing her the moment she gently placed the figurine in his hands, her fingers shaking through not only the cold? He saw the fine edges of snowflakes as he leaned in, caught on her eyelashes, drifting back into the air as she lowered them halfway.

In Heimdall, as the moon rose, as fireflies danced around them, promising her a world that they’d never have to be alone again. It was easier to kiss now, to fall into the rhythms of her laughter after each press of his lips against skin.

In Iselia, as he lifted her onto Noishe with him, ready to set off down the road. The kiss she gave him had been so second-nature, that he rarely even thought on it even happening. Just the warmth that was left with him, and the urge to kiss her in return, so that this time, he could fully remember it.

And it was only in their seventh kiss did he finally realize he had never told her that he loved her.

--

It happened after they had set up camping for the night, the travels of the day weighing down his arms. He could barely set up their sleeping blankets, sighing out the exhaustion from his mouth. Colette had gone to put away their packs safely, and so he was left to this one simple task that he had done dozens of times, all to the crackles of their campfire.

His first thought was that it was just too hot, that the summer heat was quickly burning up what little energy he had, leaving him to sink. So how could he fix that? “I’ll just take this off,” he mumbled and nodded to himself. Hands that could barely roll out the blankets couldn’t unbutton that much better, but eventually he succeeded, throwing the jacket onto the grass, with his undershirt following quick.

A moment of pure relief as he stretched and felt the cool air at his bare back – and then heard the soft giggle just to his side.

“If you were hot, we could have stayed at an inn.”

Not like he didn’t expect Colette to be here, but maybe the heat really had been getting to him. He laughed nervously, knowing that this wasn’t any different to being dressed like he was going to the beach. Except this wasn’t a beach, and no body of water that size was anywhere near them. He turned to see her standing just a few feet away, arms behind her back, a great smile on her face. “The nearest inn is way too far. And I’m just a little bit hot!”

“Oh, I see.” Colette nodded, and knelt next to him to help unroll the last remaining wrinkle of the blankets. “Then maybe we should have camped at Flanoir.”

“But then it would have been way too cold…” he weakly argued.

“Hm, couldn’t we warm each other up?” she asked him, and there was something eager in the way she said it. He looked at her, at how her knees touched his, eyes on his face – with the occasional flicker at his chest. “Kisses are warm.”

Different, because even as he felt the flush on his cheeks, there was a turn in Colette’s voice that was more confident. The way she didn’t really take her eyes away to the side, how her smile never wavered. Lloyd scratched the back of his head. “Are you just asking me to kiss you now?”

“Hm…” Colette visibly pondered, then moved closer to him, so close that her hair tickled along the front of his torso. “Yeah. I want you to kiss me.”

The wind rushed against him, making him shiver just a bit. “Ah… shouldn’t I dress first?”

Colette tilted her head slightly. “Do you need to?”

He took that as a gentle way of Colette saying, Please not yet.

With a smile, he shifted closer. “Okay,” he said, relaxing, making sure that this was truly okay as he leaned forward. Her lips met his, no longer as hesitant as their other ones, falling quicker into the rhythm as if it were a dance. He felt Colette move in closer, a hand pressing just against the center of his chest.

The touch was nearly electric, making him gasp a little into her mouth before pulling away softly. “Sorry, having…trouble breathing a little.” From the hard day of traveling they had, or because of her touch? It was difficult to say.

Colette hummed thoughtfully, the same hand on his chest trailing up towards his collarbone. “Would it be better if I kissed you?”

In their first kiss, she had reached for him. Maybe only just now did he realize something, but he simply nodded, feeling the tingle on his skin where she touched. “I wouldn’t complain,” he teased.

But as the campfire slowly dwindled, as he expected her lips to find his own again – she instead leaned somewhere else. Mouth pressed against the center of his chest, right at the small dip where a pendant would usually find its place. Lloyd shuddered, a small sound leaving his throat, but didn’t pull away.

It was true that he wasn’t going to complain, but he was still surprised. “T-That tickled!” he could only say, wincing at his own words.

Colette raised her eyes to him. “So, would it be better here?” she asked, and then lifted herself up on her knees to reach him – placing her mouth against his neck, a soft kiss that made his pulse flutter just against it.

“C-Colette..” he whispered, one hand gripping her own, entwining their fingers. “Colette… I’m already really warm..”

“Oh… that’s right.” Colette giggled against his throat, her smile felt on his skin. He surrendered to her kisses over his chin, then back down, just to the top of his chest. “So it’s too much?”

Lloyd shook his head, arms embracing her, clinging tight. “I love you,” he said, the words finally imprinting in his head. How long had they done this, had they traveled, and he had never even said such words to her? “I love you so much, Colette.”

Her lips kissed his earlobe, then his cheek, until she reached his mouth, her hands tracing patterns against his bare chest. Just a few months back, she would have been too shy for any of this at all. “I love you…too… Ah!”

He wasn’t sure how she fell, but she did right on top of him, his arms instinctively clutching at her coat to keep her near. Laughter spilled from both, his back fully hitting the dry, slightly pointy grass instead of the soft sleeping blankets. “You dork!” he said, unable to stop laughing, unable to stop kissing her, his own lips traveling from her mouth to her neck. “Such a dork, I love you…”

“I…do too! Ah, it really does tickle though!”

Still, he thought back to that warm day at the temple, how hesitant and shy – but how she had kissed him first. Even from back then, she had always wanted to share it with him.

Worries and regrets can leave, little by little, and each kiss seemed to chase them away, replaced with something else. I love you, he thought, as her lips took his, knowing he would never get tired of such a thing, like the feel of the sun on his face, or the refreshing breeze from a nearby sea.

#tales of symphonia #lloyd irving #colette brunel #colloyd #colloydweek2021 #fanfiction #one shot

[poesparakeet-fics]

Read it here or on AO3!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Caleb Widogast Characters: Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss, Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre, Caduceus Clay Additional Tags: Shadogast - Freeform, dunamancy, Empire Siblings - Freeform, Prank Wars, Tickling, rib tickling Summary:

What happens to a ticklish wizard when he manages to piss off too many of the people who love him? Allies are made and lessons are learned.

FIC

“Caleb Widogast!” Caleb jumped as he walked into the kitchen of the Xorhaus, unsure of what he could have possibly done to upset anyone this early in the morning. He was even more surprised when he saw who. “Essek?” Caleb stammered, taken aback. The drow was perched on a large kitchen chair with a cup of Caduceus’ tea in his hands and a pinched look on his face. “Schatze, I’m sorry, were we to meet? I hope you weren’t waiting long, I--” “No.” Essek corrected him sharply. “I am here to have tea with Mr. Clay at his request, to discuss the situation in Savalierwood. But he just told me that he healed some pretty distinct injuries for you, yesterday?” Caleb felt a guilty cringe fold his stomach in half. He sighed, looking at Caduceus. “So that just came up, ja?” “Yeah,” Caduceus responded, “thought it might be why you slept in.” “Ja, I had a bit of a fall--” “A fall? From where?” Essek’s gaze was intense. Caleb dropped his eyes to the floor. “Oh just, you know, clumsy--” “Really? You clumsily practiced dunamantic phasing on your own and fell through the floor?” “I think it was three floors, actually…” Caduceus mused quietly. The cringe came to the surface and showed, unbidden on Caleb’s face. “Essek, I--” “I have never limited you. It was the one thing I asked.” “I know, I--” “Caleb.” He froze when Essek cut him off, meeting the elf’s gaze once more. Essek stared him down hard before continuing. “I had… better masters than you had, when I was a young wizard. Infinitely gentler, certainly. But they would have whipped me for practicing phasing magic by myself. Truly. You could have cut yourself in half, dismembered yourself, crushed yourself, suffocated in a wall--” Essek seemed to cut himself off with a wave of his hand. “The point… the point is it would cause me a great heartbreak if irresponsible use of the magic I taught you led to your demise. Please promise me again, and keep it this time.” Caleb ducked his head, feeling like a rightfully scolded school child. “I will, ja. I am sorry.” Essek gave him a look that said he didn't entirely believe him. “I do trust you. I do not trust your curiosity. It’s only a virtue if it doesn’t get you killed.” Caleb laughed softly, nodding as he sat down at the table with them and accepted a teacup from the still-silent Caduceus. He winked at Essek. “I think I could say the same to you, but fair enough. If I do it again, I’ll let you whip me.” Essek smiled back, but the doubt didn’t leave his expression. ... “CALEB!” Beau’s voice thundered from upstairs, and Caduceus almost dropped the knife he was using to prepare vegetables for dinner. He spun around to see the wizard in question with his hands in his component pouch, running as fast as he could through the kitchen and out the back door. Beau’s quick steps followed, but by the time she was in the kitchen they could both hear the familiar woosh of a misty step from outside. She stopped stock-still in the kitchen, hands clenched into fists, looking… different than Caduceus had ever seen her. What was it? “Uh… hey. Did you get some new clothes.?” Beau turned to him silently, eyes burning holes in his head. It was pretty scary, actually. “Oh! Uh… is that what this is about?” Beau’s clothes were bright magenta where they had once been her usual cobalt blue. She was still staring at Caduceus with her fists clenched. Veth and Fjord were creeping wearily into the kitchen behind her. “I think it looks nice--!” Veth offered, only to choke off in a scared squeak when Beau rounded to face her. Beau reached out to yank Fjord’s hat off his head and put it on. “Hey!’ Fjord protested, before clamping one hand over his mouth to hide a smile. “Oh. I see.” As it perched on Beau’s head, the hat instantly turned the same bright magenta of her robes. When she handed it back it returned to its usual color. The whole room was biting lips to keep an amused smile off their face, lest they become the new target for her fury. Beau took a deep breath before bellowing again. “CALEB!” She spoke into the air, her voice loud enough to hear throughout the house. “I KNOW THAT SPELL DOESN’T GO FAR. I KNOW YOU’RE HERE, AND I AM GOING TO FUCKING GET YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME? I AM GOING TO DO DOPE MONK SHIT TO YOUR NERVOUS SYSTEM, TIE YOU UP AND FEED YOU TO A ROOM FULL OF TIEFLINGS. You will FUCKING SUFFER! THINK OF A NEW NAME, CAUSE CALEB WIDOGAST IS A FUCKING DEAD MAN! ” At the end of her tirade Beau took a deep breath and started to walk upstairs again, but not before spinning around and jabbing a finger at everyone in the kitchen. “ANYONE caught harboring the wizard will share his fucking fate!” … "...CALEB WIDOGAST IS A FUCKING DEAD MAN! ” Caleb was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his hiding place in Fjord’s empty bedroom when Beau finished her threats, but by the time she was climbing the stairs again he had disappeared with a crackling pop. When the disorienting suck of the teleport spell faded he was standing on a clay path in a dimly-lit garden next to a trio of small towers made of iridescent grey brick. An arcane weather-vane creaked in the darkness. He started toward the door. “Caleb?” A head of pale curls popped up over the top of a bush of dark purple flowers, a frown of concern on the face beneath. “Essek, hello. Ah… may I spend the night?” Essek walked toward him as he pulled floral gardening gloves off of his hands, eyes narrowed wearily. “Of course, I am always happy to have you...” He reached Caleb and placed a distracted kiss on his cheek. “... did something happen at home?” “Yes.” Caleb answered, only to stutter as Essek’s worry grew, “Oh, ah, nothing bad. Well, nothing very bad. I just need to avoid Beauregard for a bit.” Essek’s worry immediately evaporated to be replaced with amused annoyance. “I see. What did you do this time?” They both started to stroll through the garden toward Essek’s back door. “Oh, just some illusion work. It will go away by morning. She deserves it, after stealing my spellbook while I was sleeping.” “Mhmm.” Essek hummed, linking his arm with Caleb’s. “But wasn’t her stealing your spellbook revenge for…” “The magic spiders, ja, but I had to do that! She--” “--the disappearing ink, yes, I remember. Are you sensing a pattern here, chathtiu?” Caleb sniffed and turned his nose up. “I have no idea what you mean.” Essek’s smile turned indulgent as he pulled Caleb into his home. “I’m sure you don’t. Beauregard does have a way of pushing your buttons, hm?” “She is the expert.” “I should ask her for advice, one of these days.” Caleb only laughed, pulling the smaller man into his arms. “You have your own way of pushing my buttons, don’t you schatz?” Essek smiled back. “You’re right, of course. I do.” ... Caleb stalked through the library of the Xorhause, circling it room by room. While his books were sitting on the desk he’d been working at the night before, their holsters were missing. He shifted the papers on his desk, panic rising in his chest. Where were they? “Caleb?” Jester was standing in the doorway, his holsters dangling from one finger. Caleb let out a sigh of relief. “Jester! Danke! Where were they?” “Sorry, I think Sprinkle must have stolen them.” Caleb shook his head, the tension in his chest easing. “That’s alright. I’m just glad they are found.” He reached out for them, stopping short when another figure entered the room. It was Beau, her clothes now back to their normal deep blue. Their eyes met for a moment, but the monk just breezed past as though she didn’t even notice Caleb was there. It had been a week since the incident with her clothes with no revenge or further threats, and Caleb was starting to wonder if he’d finally won the war. He shrugged his holsters on as the two women sat down on the sofa. He missed Jester’s giggle until it was too late. “Hey Caleb?” Beau asked. “Uh, ja?” Caleb cringed a little, turning around. Beau’s look was positively predatory. “Fuck you.” Caleb was about to respond when the sensation of fingers digging into his ribs flushed all the air out of him in one squeal. He spun around clumsily, hands flapping, but nobody was near him. He craned his neck to look down, his arms helplessly hugging his own ribcage while his knees buckled. That’s when he realized where the sensation was coming from. “Wh-what? No, I-- ah! Please!” His fingers fumbled with the buckle of his holsters to try and escape the traitorous leather trap, but the buckle was trapped under a magical seal of iridescent purple wax with the image of a skeleton key pressed into its surface. “Fuck!” Beaureguard was grinning like a gnoll. “What’s that buddy? Fuck you?” “Aah!” Caleb’s whole body convulsed and hit the carpet as the tickling escalated, even more invisible fingers reaching out from the leather to stroke delicate bones under pale skin and plain cloth. “No no! Please!” “Can I try?” Jester asked, giggling. “Nein!” “Sure, go for it.” “Fuck yooooou Caleb!” Caleb couldn’t answer her with words, he could only wail wordlessly. He writhed on the ground, trying desperately to resist the currently useless instinct to lock his arms at his sides so he could try and pull the holsters off over his head, but it was no use. All he could do was paw uselessly at the leather before Beureguard hissed the trigger word again and all he could see was stars. “Uh… everything alright in here?” Fjord’s voice came from the direction of the door. Caleb couldn’t see him over the sofa. “Fjord!” Caleb screeched. “Plea-hee-se! Evil!” It was all he could get out before his voice cracked and his laughter turned silent, his head thrown back against the carpet. “Huh?” Beau answered in an exaggeratedly casual tone. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just getting a little payback for my pink phase. Stole his holsters and Essek cursed ‘em.” A wave of betrayal strong enough to overpower his ticklishness gave Caleb just enough breath to shout “WHAT?!” before the laughter overtook him again, tears building in his eyes. “I helped with the ruse!” Jester piped up. “Uh-huh.” Fjord nodded, “can he breathe?” “Hmm? Oh, I guess we can check. Good boy, Caleb.” The sensation stopped all at once, and Caleb rolled flat on his back to gulp in air. “See? He’s fine.” Caleb sat up, hands held out in supplication even as he struggled to catch his breath. “Beau, please, I’m s-” “Fuck you and your apology.” Any strength Caleb had recovered melted away as he squealed and flopped back down on the carpet, limbs curling uselessly against his body. The tickling fingers coming from the inner panels of his holsters might as well have been sucking his very life-force out. Fjord lets out a sigh. “If you’re going to torture him for a prank, you at least have to let him apologise. Good boy?” Caleb didn’t get up this time, too scared to trigger someone’s wrath or sense of mischief. He was still giggling, partially from phantom sensation and partially from the panicky tension of knowing that any of them could trigger the curse at any moment. “I’m sorry! Bitte!” There was a beat of silence before Beau turned to Fjord again. “There, I let him apologise. Can we go back to the torture now?” “Wait!” Caleb squeaked, rising unsteadily to his knees. “Please Beau, we can talk about this--” “Oh, you wanna talk now? Cause when it happened you were happy to teleport away to your fucking boyfriend’s. So… you know,” she finished with a grin, “fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU.” “Nein!” Was all Caleb could manage before his laughter stole his voice away, only to crack and go silent once more a moment later. Tears leaked from his eyes to roll into the fluffy carpet beneath him as he crumpled. “Oh, he’s so cute when he cries, I love it!” Jester clapped her hands while she watched from the sofa. “This is the best curse ever.” Fjord made an agreeable sound. “I wonder if Essek could make something more remote? Then we could tickle him wherever we are. That would be fun.” Caleb couldn’t respond to the idea with anything more than pained wail through his hysterics. The others pretended not to notice. “Yeah, I do worry that he goes without when we’re gone.” Jester cooed. “Pfft. Yeah, I don’t think Essek is letting that happen.” Beau snorted. Caleb started to beat at the floor with one hand, hiccups punctuating his laughter. “Aw, alright. Good boy.” The sensation stopped again, but Caleb couldn’t stop his laughter. “Please, pleaheese, *hic* bitte--” “Focus on catching your breath.” Fjord suggested, “It’ll do you more good than begging will.” Caleb let out an exhausted little sob before obeying, his lungs working overtime to suck in air. He wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to make the hiccups go away with little success. When his breathing finally evened out Fjord gave him a reassuring smile. “See, that’s better.” Fjord soothed. Beau’s grin got wider. “Hey, Caleb?” “No!” “Fffffffffff…” “Mercy!” “...uuuuck you!” “Aaii!” Caleb let out a little yelp at the sound of the words, then… nothing. He’d clenched his eyes shut in anticipation, and when he slowly opened them Beau was glaring at him. “Hey! How come it didn’t work?” Caleb let out a huge sigh of relief. The curse must have expended all of its energy. “Is it done?” Jester questioned. Caleb was wondering the same thing. He tried to examine the buckle of his holsters as subtly as possible. The seal was still there, which meant whatever the curse was, it was not over. He needed to get out of earshot as quickly as he could. “I thought it was supposed to last longer than that. Can you message Essek?” “Sure!” Caleb started to cast for misty step as subtly as he could, hoping he was close enough to his lab to lock himself inside. “Hi Essek, it’s Jester! So, your awesome curse thingy is SO great, but like, but it ran out of tickles? Do you know why?” Whoosh. Caleb hit the stone floor of his lab with an oof, dragging himself to his feet and transmuting the door of the lab into stone for good measure. As he groaned he saw that the room looked quite different compared to how he had left it the night before. The large chalkboard he used for calculations had been moved into the centre of the room. In one corner someone had drawn a symbol-- a skeleton key, like the one on the seal trapping him in his holsters. Next to it someone had written in familiar, looping script: I will not practice phasing unsupervised. X100 Caleb whipped out the enchanted little book he and Essek used to send messages between them, only to find a new one waiting for him. You have 30 minutes. Caleb was glad nobody was there to watch him gape like a fish between the chalkboard and the book. Essek couldn’t be serious. He frowned and grabbed up a quill. You are a traitorous snake! There was only a single silent moment before the page shimmered and revealed another message under Caleb’s. Noted. Now you only have 25 minutes. Caleb took a moment to say every curse word in every language he knew. Then he stood up, snatched the chalk and started writing.

#caleb widogast #essek thelyss #Shadogast #Tickling #Tickle Fic #Critickle Role #beauregard lionett #Empire Siblings #Prank wars #Rib tickling #Ticklish Wizards #hot boi essek #TK fic

[melancholic-pigeon]

Too Short For Ao3 Fic #3? 4?

SO this is the extended edition of the bonus wip I did with Sally's birthday. The overall fic it belongs to is Extremely Smutty, so I went in and revised out the brief references and I'm posting the family-centric g-rated stuff for anyone who wants that but not the smut! Cough.

Also, I felt bad about missing WIP Wednesday again. Lolsob.

Percy rouses at around eleven PM to a sketch of himself on Jason's pillow. There's a note on the other side. 

I wanted to wake you up to say goodbye, but you looked so comfy I didn't have the heart to. your mom's presents are in the bag by my desk. say hi to everyone for me. I'll call tomorrow anyway.

love you to the moon and back.

-J. ❤

Complete with a little red heart. He doesn't even care that the doodle of him next to it, burritoed in a pile of blankets, includes a little spot of drool— he can tell by the rest of his cartoony, ballpoint features that Jason put it in because he thinks it's cute.

(And by the fact that he's said so, several times.)

Percy gathers up his junk. The cornflower blue sweatshirt he steals goes halfway down his fingers. He's come to accept that at six foot three and counting, Jason is the taller of them and always will be— barring some sort of horrible wood-chipper accident or curse from a grumpy deity. 

Fortunately, there's something about looking up to meet someone's eyes that Percy finds incredibly attractive. He has since Annabeth outgrew him for the first time in eighth grade. 

He heads out in his own jeans and the boxers he packed and the sweatshirt that smells like cinnamon. Once he boards the train, he stands with his arm around a pole and the other holding the bag against his chest, and tries to stay casual and keep the grin off his face.

It's almost midnight when he gets home. His mom, of course, is still awake, so he heads into the living room to greet her.

"My other half says hello."

There's a pile of presents on the coffee table. He puts the bag with the rest of them and sits down, kissing her cheek.

"He didn't have to get me anything." She closes her book and eyes the bag with a fond sigh. "How is he?" 

Percy's the same way she is, always happy to do favors and give gifts, but feeling pretty awkward about receiving them. Jason's even worse, the three of them in an ongoing and circular competition to never let any of it go reciprocated. 

"Working too hard, as always. Pulling As and winning games and barely sleeping to do it. His stepmother's up his ass and his father's a bully, so, you know, news at eleven." He leans his head onto her shoulder. "That's why he gives you stuff. He's trying to show you how much he appreciates you." 

She sighs, and Percy knows it's because she's just as frustrated by the whole thing as he is. 

"He knows I appreciate him too, I hope." 

"Without a doubt." Percy smiles at her, watching as she goes a little pink and smiles back. "You have a talent for making him feel appreciated." 

"He treats my baby like a prince," she says softly. "That's why I appreciate him so much in the first place. How could I do anything else?"

Percy turns his face into her shirt collar, another futile attempt to hide his goofy expression, 

"He really does, doesn't he?"

Holding doors, pulling out chairs, offering an arm on unsteady streets. Jason's never laid his coat over a puddle, but Percy's pretty sure he would, if the option presented itself. 

His mom starts playing with his hair, her fingers light and familiar.

"I'm just happy you're happy, sweetheart."

He knows that feeling too. 

Half asleep from the petting, Percy lets himself be a little babyish. It's after midnight now, which means it's her birthday, and he knows that sometimes she misses when he was Estelle's age and little enough to curl up in her lap. He's way too big for that now, obviously, but he can still slide down the couch and rest his head there. 

"You too, Mama." 

She looks at him, her eyes misty with emotion and almost green in the light.

She's smiling, too. 

She smiles a lot, these days.

—

In the morning, Paul makes coffee while Estelle helps unwrap the avalanche of presents. She's at the age where ripping paper makes her squeal with hysterical laughter, which worms its way into Percy's heart and melts it into pudding. 

Several of them are from Percy's friends, including a handbound book of original recipes from Leo, a lovely silver bracelet inset with mother-of-pearl that Beckendorf made himself, and a huge sheathed knife with a matching decorative handle from Clarisse. The last one makes his mom snort as she gets up to put it on the bookshelf, out of reach of curious toddler hands. 

"Decorative. Sure." 

"I bet she'd teach you how to use it if you asked." 

"I know how to use a bowie knife, dear. Your father and I used to catch and cook our own fish when we went camping."

"Which reminds me, he still hasn't taken me out," Paul cuts in, frowning. "I've been saving up dad jokes and embarrassing stories for four years."

"I'll bug him about it the next time we talk," Percy promises. "It's probably the ADHD." 

"Do you want me to bug you about bugging him?" 

"If you haven't set something up by blueback season, yeah." 

Percy and Paul went in on a pound of jasmine tea, which his mom reaches for next. She immediately asks for a cup— it's one of two days out of the entire year where she lets other people wait on her, for a change, and even that took a lot of cajoling. 

Paul makes the tea, since Percy usually scalds the leaves and it turns out tasting like grass. She probably wouldn't complain anyway, but it's her birthday, and she deserves to have the best tea that can be made in their kitchen. 

"Is the last bag from Jason?" Paul sets the mug on a coaster in the middle of the coffee table, and Percy scoops the baby into his lap so she doesn't try to grab it. She mashes her tiny hand against his cheek.

"And Thalia. I'm not sure if they went in on stuff or he just packed them both in one bag to make it easy." 

Either is a possibility. He watches as his mom reaches in and pulls out a large wrapped frame, Thalia's spiky handwriting answering the question. 

Whatever's inside, it makes her shut her eyes and exhale deeply through her nose. 

"Please pass on that I am absolutely furious."

She turns the frame around. An autographed vinyl EP of Sign O' the Times by Prince— one of the albums Percy grew up on, though she skipped a number of the songs when he was little. Thalia must have spent a fortune on it. 

"That woman is incredible," Paul breathes, lightly touching the glass. "How does she get this stuff?" 

"See!"

"She has friends in high places." Percy grins as Estelle reaches for the album, and holds her over the glass so she can touch it too. "She's also really good at barter chains."

His mother shakes her head, but he can tell how delighted she is— the two of them have spent hours animatedly talking about music, Thalia hanging on every word and groaning with jealousy over the concerts his mom went to in the eighties. 

"I know exactly where I'm going to put it." 

Thalia got her a turntable for her fortieth birthday last year, as well as a full set of replacements for every worn-out record in their collection— and had the originals framed too, since they had sentimental value. They're currently occupying the better part of two walls of his mom's study. 

There's a blank spot by her bookshelf, right underneath the first copy, that the autographed album will fit into perfectly. Percy grins. 

"I'll hang it up for you later."

She doesn't argue. There's only Jason's left, his careful print written out across the same paper Thalia used. The crinkling draws Estelle's attention, and she gleefully reaches over to help tear it off.

Their mom gasps at what's inside and puts a hand to her mouth, her eyes going bright.

It's a watercolor portrait of Percy and Estelle, laughing by the shoreline. She's dressed in a little bucket hat, a ruffled swimsuit patterned to look like a clownfish and the coolest shades in the world— sparkly blue frames shaped like seashells that he kind of wishes he could get in his size. He's in a wetsuit, having spent the morning surfing, and he's holding onto her hands so she can jump at the waves. In the distant background is the Montauk lighthouse.

It's beautifully done, like everything else Jason's ever put to paper, but Percy's never choked up like this over one of them.

"You remember that, Beluga? That was on my birthday, when you came and visited me and Jason at the beach."

"Beach?" she asks, expectant. Paul bursts into laughter, sounding as rough-voiced as Percy feels.

"You're your mother's daughter, sweet pea."

"Beach!" Estelle insists. Percy noses her pudgy cheek.

"It's too cold to swim, baby." His mom's eyes are sparkling, still a little teary. He can see Estelle in the smile on her face. "But we could go for a walk and visit." 

"Brunch first." Paul kisses her— Percy averts his eyes, wrinkling his nose at his sister to make her giggle again— and gets up, heading back into the kitchen. 

It's a lovely way to spend a late morning. Pale blue araucana eggs courtesy of Grover's new hens, a blueberry coffee cake from Nico by a fantastic hole in the wall in Hell's Kitchen, Paul's signature home fries made with blue potatoes and seasoned to perfection; all of it delicious.

Jason calls while Percy's doing the dishes. After his deep, resonant performance of the happy birthday song, the five of them chat on speakerphone for a little while, though he has to excuse himself pretty quickly to keep banging through his reading. 

"Maybe next year," Percy sighs. His mom puts her hand on his hip, then crouches down to help Estelle with her light-up sneakers. 

"He's always welcome for a rain check."

"He's always welcome, period," Paul adds. For the second time, Percy gets dangerously close to sniffling. 

Montauk is a little far for a day trip, so they head to Brighton Beach instead. Estelle's shrimpy legs get tuckered out more quickly than the grownups' do, so Percy ends up carrying her on his hip, snuggled into his jacket to block the chilly breeze. She points at seagulls, shouting triumphantly every time. 

"More bird!"

"That's right. A whole flock of 'em."

They watch for a while as the gulls fight over a discarded pizza crust. Then Percy feels an arm around his back and a head against his shoulder.

"I don't know how I got so lucky," his mother murmurs, barely audible over the rushing of the waves.

Percy's eyes sting. 

For most of his life, her birthdays had been spent without fanfare. He was rarely actually there for them anyway, and Gabe complained so much it was easier to just ignore the day and focus on survival instead. 

She'd been triaging like that since before she even met his dad, keeping herself afloat when nobody seemed to care if she drowned. It would have been easy to lie down and give up. Percy's pretty sure he would have, in her place. 

He turns to hug her with the obligatory proclamation of a Stella Sandwich. He catches Paul's eye over her shoulder, and gets a wide, sentimental grin in response. 

"Luck's got nothing to do with it," Percy tells her, leaning his cheek against the top of her head while his sister wriggles with delight between them. 

"Listen to our son," Paul adds. "He's very wise, as you raised him to be. This is all on you, honey." 

Within moments, she's surrounded by her whole family on all sides, and Percy has another arm around his back, and he's getting a little choked up over it all. 

When she first started dating Paul, back when Percy was still in middle school, she'd spent weeks all aflutter. It was the happiest he'd ever seen her at the time. They'd sit outside and work on her car together, and she'd slip into song like a grease-stained fairytale princess without even thinking about it. 

Seeing them interact is like cool water on a burn, Paul's devoted kindness soothing a lifetime of sitting back and watching people treat her like dirt. He worships her, just like she deserves and long overdue.

"I love you," she says, tearful and muffled in someone's shoulder. "All of you, more than anything." 

"Love Mama," Estelle replies, and that's it— Percy's blubbering.

It'll never undo the damage, but it's about time she got a chance to heal and thrive. 

-here in our bed, chapter 7, ~6200 words

#wip wednesday #yes I know don't look at me like that #i wrote this #sally jackson #paul blofis #estelle blofis #family fic #oh lord the cheese

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Night Terrors [Request]

A/N: I hope this helps you feel a little better hunny and if you need somebody to talk to I’m always here for you!!!

The Tae one is based on a book I’ve been thinking of adapting into a fanfiction for him or bang chan but I’m not sure if people would like it?

Seokjin:

Jin was coming up to bed after coming in late from the studio when he heard you screaming, he dashed up the stairs and into the shared bedroom he had with you to find you scrambling toward the headboard and holding your head.

"Hey, hey, hey!" He called out dropping his bag on the floor and getting onto the bed beside you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders where he started rocking you back and forth in his arms.

"I'm right here baby, it's not real. It's okay." He whispered over and over again in your ear, kissing the top of your head as you began to cry about the night terror you had just been experiencing.

"J-Jin it felt so real." You managed to say between the broken sobs and he held you tighter to him, holding your hand over his heart so you could feel it beating.

"This right now is real, this here." He told you as he turned your head up to look at him,

"Look at me, I'm real. This is real." He assured you, you stared back into his eyes looking at him as he smiled down at you.

"You're here." You breathed laying your head back down on his chest and breathing in his familiar scent that had you relax instantly and your body eased into his and he laid you both down not caring that he was fully dressed as long as you were relaxing and laying beside him, he began drawing small patterns into your skin to help you relax that little bit more and he kissed your shoulder.

"Do you need anything?" He whispered noticing that you weren't falling back to sleep but he knew how hard it was for you to get back to sleep after experiencing a night terror.

"Can we get hot chocolate?" He nodded sitting you both up in the bed and going to get you one of his hoodies and a pair of your leggings,

"The fresh air will be nice." He told you one you were dressed and ready to leave, you did this whenever you had a night terror. He would take you out of the house for a little while, there was a small cafe right around the corner from your apartment which was open 24 hours a day so you could always count on them for a good hot chocolate. Jin linked his hands with yours as you walked down the stairs and out of your apartment door, he didn't question you on what happened because he knew you would talk about it whenever you felt ready and he didn't want to push you into anything that you didn't want to talk about yet.

Yoongi:

Yoongi was working in his home studio trying to get some last-minute work done when he heard your sobs,

"Y/n?!" His voice was full of panic and he jumped up from his desk not caring that he'd sent the chair flying into the bookshelf behind him. He rushed to the bedroom where he found you crying while curled up in a ball on the bed,

"Y/n?!" He asked coming into the room and sitting behind you, you said nothing but turned around so you could lay against his lap and he began softly playing with your hair to try and comfort you in any way that he could.

"What happened?" You shook your head not being able to find the words to explain what it was about and he wrapped his arms around you so you were now sitting in his lap,

"It's alright, none of it was real okay?" You knew it wasn't but it still didn't make it any easier.

"W-What were you doing?" You questioned trying to think of something to distract your mind and he told you he was working on a new song.

"Can I hear it?" You whispered to him looking up at him and he smiled down at you nodding and letting you get up off the bed and walk to his studio inside the house and he smiled as you got into his big leather desk chair and rolled yourself to his desk. He grabbed one of the other chairs that he kept in the room for the boys or you whenever you came to work with him and he clicked on the newest song hitting play, you slipped on the large headphones he always wore and Yoongi began watching your face for a reaction.

"Whoa." You whispered nodding your head back and forth to the beat as you listened to the music, then the lyrics started and he could tell by the look on your face that you liked it. Your eyes were glowing as you stared at the screen before turning to look at him with a shocked expression,

"Yoongi it's-" You couldn't even find the words to express what the song was like but it was perfect in every way shape and form.

"You like it?" You nodded putting down the earphones and asking him who it was about,

"It's about my love for someone close to me, and how much I love them." He wrapped leant closer to you before kissing you on the lips and chuckling as you began to hide your face from him feeling shy.

Hoseok:

Hoseok woke up to feel you shaking beside him, he assumed you were just cold so he wrapped the quilt around you but once his hand came into contact with your skin he ripped the covers away from you and went to get a cold flannel for you from the bathroom.

"Baby, baby come on wake up." He whispered shaking you softly and waiting for you to come out of it naturally and when you did he scooped you into his arms applying the cold flannel to your skin and letting you relax back against his arms. He'd done this a million times before with you so he knew how to get you to calm down, he kept the cold flannel on your skin to try and bring your temperature down while you held onto his arms tightly.

"I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." He repeated in your ear knowing that you needed to hear that from him and that it was true,

"You alright?" You shook your head and he kissed the top of your head ignoring your groaning and moaning about you being covered in sweat,

"I don't care that you're sweating, we'll have a shower. You alright?" You nodded and he pulled you closer keeping you close to him so he could comfort you while you told him what had happened in the night terror.

Namjoon:

That morning you'd gone with Namjoon to the studio since it was your week off from work and you wanted to spend time with him, you took your favourite book to keep you busy while he was working but you'd fallen asleep after an hour being there on the sofa. Namjoon smiled turning to see you asleep on his sofa clutching the book close to your chest as you mumbled in your sleep, he turned back to the computer for a second before the mumbles turned into whimpers and then the whimpers turned to screams and he rushed over to you abandoning the work he was doing and holding you in his arms, shifting your head so it was on his thigh.

"Namjoon?!" You cried out when you woke up to him kissing your forehead and whispering something you couldn't hear,

"Shh, it's okay." He moved you closer to him and he began rocking you in his arms whispering sweet nothings to you to help slow your heart rate down to its normal beating pattern and once you were calm and breathing normally he turned so you were laid between his thighs and he was sat against the arm of the sofa.

"Do you want to talk about you?" You shook your head and so he kissed the top of your head while you linked your hands together wanting to just have him hold you a little while longer.

"I'm not going anywhere." He whispered in your ear as he felt you tense up when he went to move,

"Sorry-"

"Don't say sorry, I love you." He whispered giving you another kiss on the cheek before laying his head in your neck and watching you playing with his fingers.

Jimin:

He knew he was late home and he was expecting you to be in bed waiting for him but what he hadn't expected was to come home and see you crying on the sofa with one of his hoodies wrapped around you as you cried into your hands.

"Y/n?!" He yelled rushing over to you and questioning what was wrong, you'd only just moved in together and it was your first night alone in the house which was scary enough but then you went and had a night terror along with it and woke up to see Jimin wasn't with you.

"Another one? I thought we were making progress on them?" You whimpered and he sat beside you on the sofa laying you both down so you were laying on his chest. He began rubbing circles in the small of your back while you explained what had happened, he was comforting you in any way that he could, kissing the top of your head whenever you found it difficult to talk about something.

"I'm so sorry baby," He whispered when you finally finished and broke down into another set of tears, you hid your head in his chest and he began to tell you all of the love he had for you. Telling you that he was always going to be there for you, reminding you that the terror hadn't been real but what was happening with him was.

"Do you want to get something to eat? Drink?" You shook your head yawning as you felt tired and he smiled softly standing you both up and going towards the stairs so you could both go to sleep together.

Taehyung:

Taehyung usually snuck in through your bedroom every night to help you fall asleep and sleep without the night terrors you experienced but you'd had a fight over him flirting with everyone that day and he hadn't shown up like he always did. He would normally climb through the bedroom window to come and spend the night beside you. He was your brothers best friend and you didn't get along at all outside of the bedroom, but it wasn't anything sexual. He would just fall asleep holding you and it had been that way since you were kids, it was how you slept without waking up sobbing, screaming and sweating.

"Shit," Taehyung whispered panicked as he heard your broken cries coming from your room, he was walking towards your brother's room when he heard you and he opened the door and spotted you clutching onto the pillow and whimpering in your sleep. He climbed into the bed behind you and as soon as his arms wrapped around your waist he noticed your body relax and you stopped whimpering.

"Tae?" You whispered rolling over to look up at him, he was in jeans and a t-shirt looking down at you,

"What's up?" You stared at him before leaning up and kissing him gently on the lips,

"Thank you for coming back." You whispered to him before tucking your head into his chest and listening to his heartbeat, he kissed the top of your head and you hummed not wanting him to ever leave you again.

"I heard you when I came to see Yoongi, you alright?" You shook your head and he only held you tighter and closer to him trying to and get you back to sleep, he knew how hard it was for you to sleep so he was going to do the best he could to have you well-rested.

"Don't leave me again." You begged and he linked your fingers together bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it gently,

"I promise I won't." He whispered back to you before closing his eyes and trying to sleep beside you praying your brother wouldn't walk through the door and see you both laying there.

Jungkook:

Jungkook was doing his best to stay quiet from beside you, he was gaming while you were curled up beside him on the sofa finally getting the first time in a week. You could never sleep without him being next to you and he'd been so busy all week that he hadn't been there and your night terrors got worse to the point where you dreaded going to sleep.

"Shit. No." Jungkook groaned moving to the end of the bed so he could see the screen and concentrate harder on the game he was playing.

He hadn't even noticed that you'd woken up until he turned around to see you staring at the bed blankly,

"Y/n?" He whispered dropping the controller and turning to come back to you, you blinked and he knew that you were in shock over what had happened during your night terror.

"Jungkook?" You asked turning to look at him with tears in your eyes and he took you into his arms shuffling back against the headboard and keeping you as close to him as he could get you to him.

"You- You left and then I erm-" He told you not to think about it and you closed your eyes trying to focus on anything but had happened,

"Listen to my voice okay, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere." You nodded and he began to sing softly in your ear to try and calm you down from everything, hearing him and feeling him beside you made you feel a lot better and you closed your eyes tightly listening to his heartbeat and then focused on his singing letting it help you relax.

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @chimchims-stories-and-tales @fan-ati--c @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @btsiguess-kpop @rjsmochii

#bts #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts reactions #bts reaction #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #seokjin x reader #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi x reader #suga #jung hoseok #hoseok #hoseok x reader #jhope #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #park jimin #jimin #jimin x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader

[blankdblank]

Brother Dearest Pt 49

“I brought you something I think you will like,” Edie said in Polish with a smile that spread to your face as well in curiosity. From a new suitcase she settled on the table in the living room where she had found you at Eddie’s insistence you stay on the couch and relax that drew you to scoot forward and eye the folded fabric inside the case. “There is a good bit of fabric available in the markets, some less bold than some may care for on a fashion stance, however these will all be quite lovely for what is intended.”

“Intended?” You asked yourself with eyes shifting to Erik carrying a sewing machine table he settled along the wall until a better home for the crafting could be found. “Oh, for my maternity clothes.”

She nodded and said in a show of some sketches she pulled out as well, “I believe these will suit what you had mentioned in your letters. We wore clothes similar to these when working in our gardens in the town we grew up in, both with shorts and long pant legs to suit your needs.” The overall pattern had you look over their every detail to see how you would be able to put them on.

“And how would you secure them?”

To a set of buttons on the front she pointed to the neckline just under the straps with a few that have tie up straps as well with a ribbon above the belly to help support the top. Each which would be forgiving the larger you got and by use of old newspapers patterns were made up that you helped to pin onto the fabrics to cut out while Edie would stitch together. Buttons easily you could add from the supply she had brought. Though each and every shift of the needle through the fabric had your eyes fall on your bare ring finger now too far swollen to force the engagement ring and wedding band that now sat upstairs after a teary failed thought to keep them on your necklace weeks prior. Nearly four months gone and about a half of what a single baby carrying mother would be the size of, far from large and still it seemed your body wanted to play puffer fish once given the excuse to after years of starvation and exhaustion.

Edie having caught your stare on her way to add another pair to the pile on the table said with a kind smile, “Swollen fingers are a common symptom.”

That had you look up and shake your head with a smile, “I know. Norma and Dawn both wore theirs on a chain.” To the drop of a tear down your cheek you fanned your face mid giggle with a folded bit of the pattern beside you, “Ugh, crocodile tears.”

She shook her head and said, “Not bad tears at all. The changes are hard to adjust to. When is the Doctor coming?”

“Oh, he has some patients and such and will see me after the New Years.” Teddy mid giggle tottered through the room making you bring the pair with the needle still in it close to your chest and away from him, “Ooh, careful,” you said eyeing his path with Olive and Pepper after him. Whiskers however came in next to hop up beside you avoiding the chill that came in from James and Victor’s return. Norma had joined Dawn in their day with her family while Eddie focused on the paper. Between the brothers however your eyes fell on David in his bashful smile of an entrance to the sound of Erik’s chuckle to Teddy’s finding him in his turn to hide. “Hey David.”

“Hello. How is our lovely invalid.” That had you scoff and him chuckle, “I kid.” Timidly he came closer and asked, “I hope you don’t mind I was a bit curious once I heard you are carrying three babies. How are you feeling?”

“Oh,” you let out a breath, “Not bad. Hungry, always, and I sleep like a bear as much as I can. When the room doesn’t flip on me that is.” He gestured his hand to your side and you nodded moving a set of the patterns to Edie’s gentle acceptance of the pair in your hands to finish that button to Victor’s lift of one of the completed pairs of overall shorts.

David said to his glance at your belly, “Your babies seem to be growing well.”

“Yes,” you said in a settle of your hands on top of the belly visible in the settle of your hands on top of your sweater that had helped to mask its full size at least a little. “Certainly growing while I puff up like a scared cat.”

To that he smirked and accepted your settle of his hand on your belly he’d been afraid to touch that widened in the feel of just how round it was. “No movement yet?”

“Not yet, thought there was a kick yesterday but then my stomach made this awful gurgle noise.”

James chuckled to Victor’s stating, “Then we had to open a window as the stew we made came back with a vengeance. Last time we risk basil for Pipsqueak.”

“I said I was sorry,” you said and he shook his head mid chuckle to James’ settle beside you on the couch.

James said with a smile, “No apologies, been meaning to scrub the tile in that bathroom for a while now. Usually it’s Vic that gets sick in there.”

“It smelled so good too, which is the weird part.” You said and glanced at David who had a puzzled look on his face in a reach for your wrist which showed you didn’t have a pulse. “Sorry, ya, it’s one of my, things, Doctors can’t hear my heartbeat or lungs or the babies unless I link minds with them. Don’t know why.”

In the meet of your eyes a ring of silver flashed in his to match the silver dots in yours and his eyes lowered to your wrist now at the feel of the pulse and trio of heartbeats he heard through his contact with your belly. To a disbelieving scoff he looked up again to catch your eye in the dim of the ring of silver in his eyes and the spots in yours. “You are a marvel.” That had you grin and settle your hands on your belly and follow his gaze to the next pair of long pants pair of overalls. “What are those?”

“Pants I can wear instead of a tent.” That had him smirk your way and you said, “At this rate I’d need something huge to cover my belly and the skirts no doubt would get caught or folded up and flash my backside each time I stand up if they fold the wrong way.” To that he chuckled and settled in to the accepted social break to spice up your day in the first week so far that the town had been limiting to one or two visits a day in turns having all been filled in just how pregnant and likely to need of rest you were. “Plus the shorts should help in the late spring when it gets warm.”

David, “Well I am certain that you will be amply comfy in them.”

“Yes, and if the other ladies have a problem with it I’ll just start to cry and they will feel bad and never bring it up again.” You teased making the group chuckle in relief at your good mood. Daisy soon enough came to tag along on David’s visit and also drove him back to his office in time for his next appointment with ample news to pass on through the town of your high spirits in your cozy abode to wait out the next round of snow that was on its way by morning.

.

Alone now in the living room to the side you shifted with pillows adjusted for comfort and sighs galore on another glance to the stack of books you had finished from the daily supply our of the crate they had bought from second hand shop in Alberta they had been rationed to keep you distracted. Within ten minutes however on the way back from a bathroom break James in his arrival to feed the fire spotted you mid pace with hands on your hips from one end of the room to the next to simply have some movement for this cramped up day. “Restless or do you need a back rub?” He hummed in the bend to toss another couple logs on the fire from the log room they had stocked the day they had arrived.

“Oh,” you sighed out in another turn towards his end of the room, “Little bit of both.” That had him chuckle and smile to the slight blush on your cheeks. Still a bit embarrassed from the fumble of a try to be intimate the night before you’d ended up flustered and just curled up in his arms after the sensitive gag reflex of yours had struck again in a try to pay your ever so attentive husband some well deserved amorous attentions that shot that dead right there in almost getting sick on him.

Right up to you he strolled and across your back in his stop in your path he hummed, “I love you, let me rub your back.”

“You always rub my back,” you just about whined making him chuckle again.

And he leaned in to press his lips to your forehead that was next met by his, “And I will rub it again, as often as you like until my hands fall off and have to grow back and then I will rub it again. And as far as your attentions to me I love you and babies can make our nights in a bit awkward but never less than spectacular each time.”

Your head pulled back and you said, “I almost got sick on you last night.”

“And it was spectacular,” that had you roll your eyes and he hugged you to his chest with a kiss to the top of your head, “I got to hold you all night, pretty spectacular on its own just to be yours. The impossible love of mine who is growing our babies. How could I ever not love a moment with you?” He kissed your forehead again then stepped back, “Which reminds me.” Your brow arched up and to the mantle he went where you eyed the ring box he carried back to you.

Your lips parted as you said, “James you did not buy me jewelry!”

Lowly he chuckled and opened the box that had you gasp, “My wife cannot wear her wedding rings and is very upset about that.”

“James I’m a puffer fish!” you said with eyes on his again.

He shook his head, “No you are not. And these are sized for your finger now.” You huffed and could only watch his lift of your hand to glide the eternity band of diamond sideways hearts in white gold settings that sat perfectly at the base of the finger with the new engagement ring on after. The latter that had a large rectangular diamond surrounded by two square diamonds on a white gold band which settled next in an awe strike of a pair you didn’t expect. When your eyes met again he’d lifted the hand to kiss the knuckles beside the new duo and he said, “It hurt you not being able to wear your rings. Got you these when I saw your difficulty with your rings last month.”

“Last month?”

He nodded and said with a smile, “And I even dropped them by Father Thomas, he loved the chance to bless the rings for us so you can have a symbol of our marriage you won’t have to wear around your neck. So no tears or arguments.” He said in a stroke of his thumbs across your cheeks to wipe away the tears that had fallen after having tossed the box to one of the chairs, “Because if your fingers do grow again I’ll just buy another set.”

Laced with a sniffle you chuckled and reached up to cup his cheeks for a kiss he melted into completely ignorant of the tears that fell over his thumbs and end of his nose in the lingered first kiss and five hungry pecks afterwards that broke in his chuckle and move to wipe your cheeks again. “Now, let’s rub your back,” he said guiding you to the couch where he settled you comfortably sideways and carefully settled behind you, careful not to bother your back with a heavy plop. And in the gentle start to a backrub where he asked, “Do you like the rings? Apparently it is much harder than it is here to have jewelers in New York to design rings how you want them.”

That had you chuckle and say, “No, they like to keep a hard hand on the diamonds thanks to what they have to pay to keep them safe in the shops.” That had his eyes on you and you giggled, “The big Italian families mainly control diamonds. How much they charge you?”

“Seemed they wanted to charge me more till one of the old guys in the back said something to the salesman.”

“Ah, you must have gone to Grigor’s then.” His brow arched up and you said, “Mom treated his son in the hospital, kept the Doctors from ignoring one of his symptoms that could have killed him and he let her pick a pair of earrings as thanks. He likes to wave when I go by and ask how I am, always has since I started to head to museums alone.”

“How’s his son?”

“Down in Spain? I think, or Jamaica, required a tropical climate for his lungs. Has five kids though his wife just moved back last spring to be with her parents so he’s happy to meet the brood.”

“He must be upset to be away from his kids and wife.”

“Eh,” you said with a tilt of your head that had his hands pause to adjust again, “Not very. From what I hear he’s got a bit of a harem and she stuck it out until she could raise funds to fly home. Whispers are he caught something in his harem and he’s not got long.”

“See, brothels never mean well,” making you grin to yourself and steal another peek at the rings. “So was that a no that you don’t like the rings?”

“The rings are beautiful. Thank you.”

“Almost got laughed out of the shop for the hearts till the old man stepped in.”

“Yes, ovals or tears are more common as rare shapes nowadays. Rarely hear of hearts.”

Erik with a poke of his head in the room asked, “Did you want your pear now, Bunny?”

“Sure,” he nodded and popped out to come back with a pear in hand and smile eyeing your new rings above your belly you were stroking again. “Thank you,” you said in accepting the pear while he sat down and claimed your left hand.

“Very lovely choices. And impressive to show off when you get back to school.”

“Oh yes, may just distract from my belly. Be the size of a hippo soon enough.”

Erik shushed you and gave your belly a gentle stroke, “Don’t you worry on that you just keep growing little ones. Nice and healthy until it’s time for us to hold you and give your brave mother a good rest.”

All you could do was smile and lift the pear for a bite that had his smile grow in the clear elated change to the trio who soaked in all they could from the treasured fruit that was fueling their health as well as their mother’s.

.

“Hello sister,” Venom said on your easy stroll down the cold steps with hand on your belly in a hope for some cocoa and a grilled cheese to lull you back to sleep. On his next stroll across the room he had been pacing from side to side on you took notice of Marigold in his palm laid against his chest clearly in a means to let her parents rest from her usual fussy manner.

“Hello Venom, Goldie not sleeping again?” You asked releasing the stair railing to enter the warm room lit by the fire he had been feeding to keep the house warm for the animals and the usual nightly pacing you now had joined in on.

“Our little one is merely growing. The quiet winter has done her good.” He said in a turn to join you to the kitchen. “How are sister’s little ones?”

“Good, heartbeats are strong, they feel to be growing. No movement yet. Can you hear them too?”

“Venom can feel them,” he said with eyes that met yours in a glance up from the kettle you were filling. “Similar to how you feel heartbeats. They are why Venom cannot crawl on his Sister as he used to, would only cause them pain. For now Venom will ensure none harm his Sister and her little ones.”

“According to Elliot and Herc I could still blast some people a few hundred yards away if need be. And if I could urge myself to.”

Lowly Venom chuckled and replied, “Fear is a worthy hindrance with little ones. You are strong even in your fears.” Softly you sighed in a move to set the kettle on the burner you switched on for it. “However we do not carry the little ones. Far easier for us to say fear is worthy when a Mother’s fear is insurmountable.” Your eyes met his in your move to gather the bread, cheese and butter to go with the skillet you lowered from the hook it hung from to the cool burner for when the kettle was through boiling. “Your fear could cripple others, your pain could drive others to madness and despair. Venom has the best Sister, and her little ones will have the best mother. Eddie has shown Venom how Sister was mothered before Sarah grew sick and our Teddy is proof mothering is natural to you.”

“Still have to get the trio ready to be mothered. Have you read midwife manuals?”

“Sister is no fleshling. This birth will be the hardest merely for fear. We are here. Venom will help with any pain once the little ones are born.”

“There’s no medicine they can give me that could do more than a second of relief.”

“Pain is always there. We cannot protect Sister from pain. But Venom will be here with Eddie at your side. Sister saved our son we will protect your daughters.”

To his words your hands smoothed over your belly asking, “They do sound like girls don’t they? Fast heartbeats.”

James’ voice in his entrance however turned your head to his smiling self looking you over in his sweater, baggy flannels and thick fuzzy socks in your moccasin slippers with hair halfway slipped from the braid he helped you with hours prior. “Good, more girls the merrier.”

From the door he came over and sweetly pressed a kiss to your lips in a single move trading the kettle for the skillet to handle the grilled cheese for you. “Do you want some cocoa? I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. Vic is on the roof making goat noises again,” that had you giggle and he said, “Cocoa would be lovely, thank you,” he said watching you mix up the cocoa powder and water that you added some milk to even the taste out then stared at the empty spot where the marshmallows usually sat in one of the cupboards. “Vic bought more marshmallows two days ago. Should be in there.”

Instead of the marshmallows you eyed the new pack of gravy mix that turned you to the pantry for the duo to watch your search end with a trade of the mix and a new bag of marshmallows. “Guess Petal distracted Kitty.” The corner was split and an amusing amount was added to both mugs after the second confirming glance that Venom did not want mug himself but did accept a couple marshmallows you floated his way he snapped up then kissed his daughter’s head in her grumble to the jerk of the muscle under her head.

James while you clipped the bag and put it back in its proper home asked, “Any thoughts for names yet?”

“Not any traditional ones,” you said after a brief sip on the drink that had you put a hand on the counter to the same feel of another small flutter you felt to the trio’s heartbeats changing as they do every meal to soak up more nutrients to grow stronger.

“My Xander was named after King Alexander, Vic pulled names from records we read on Spartan Queens and Kings. The world all got the big filmed wedding broadcast all around the world, screw the whispers traditional is out the window. What names did you want? I know you’ve already picked full names.”

Venom said, “At least share the inspiration, surely the stars will whisper their names into infamy.”

“I actually picked star inspired names.”

James smiled as the bread toasted in the buttered skillet, “Even better, spill, three names. Go.”

“Aurora Nyx,”

James, “Ooh, love it already. Next name?”

“Belinda Rhea.”

Venom, “Both stunning views Venom passed to find Eddie.”

You nodded and said in James’ glance your way to encourage you to continue, “Nova Carina.”

James, “Perfect names.”

You nodded then said, “I also like Rigel Nash,” you said making him smirk at the clear boy’s name. “Just in case.”

To himself he chuckled in your next sip then hummed, “All incredible names, girls or boys they will be more than treasured.”

You nodded then asked, “For last names?”

“Pear Howlett,” he answered without a pause then glanced your way in turning the sandwich over, “The family name. Vic is going flowers for their girls as is Dawn and Eddie so let’s go stars for our munchkins.” One sandwich was finished followed by another that you ate and finished off with your cocoa before it was time to head back upstairs to the bed still warmed by the fire James had fed on his way down to find his cuddle partner who had gone missing while he slept.

.

1948. New Years came with a crash, literally, from your hand the mug you had intended to fill with tea fell to the floor and shattered to pieces. Loudly Teddy gasped and his hands at his sides rose in terrified fists to your hunch forward. From the table a chair slid over by your mental pull and both knees settled on the seat to the child’s call, “Daddy!!” Forward onto the back of the chair you leaned with forehead on the hands clutching the wood to ground yourself while the men already on their feet by the break of the mug raced to the kitchen.

Once in the doorway they saw you lost to the sudden shift that you felt of the room that required you to get off your feet as soon as possible. “My Bunny?” Teddy whimpered in a pat of his hands on your bent leg closest to him that had your hand lower to land on his hands for a comforting pat.

“I’m ok, Teddy.” You panted out.

“Jaqi?” James murmured in his ease behind you while Victor got to picking up the mug pieces Teddy had stepped around. His hand however on your side with the hand from the pat on Teddy’s yours moved it to the now actively shifting belly that dropped his jaw. “They’re kicking!” he exclaimed with tears pooling into his eyes mid spread of his ridiculous grin in his second hand moving to your belly.

“Kicking,” you sighed out and lifted your head to hold onto the chair in the lift of your head with an eye roll to follow. “Full on attack at once,” you added in Eddie’s teary eyed crouch to lift Teddy to help his toe top failed reach for your belly.

Erik now in the room moved to the oven saying at the whistle of the kettle, “I’ll fix up your tea, Bunny.”

Dawn and Norma followed Edie to join the others who circled around you with turns in placing their hands for feels of the active belly that was enough a shock to put you off balance. “Thank you Erik,” to the table James and Victor carried the chair you were on and helped you to turn around and settle in until the snack they fixed up for you was completed then you were moved back to the couch once you had steadied in their relax again.

In all the excitement to the best of your abilities Teddy was filled in to how the babies you were carrying now that they were big enough had chosen to stretch at once in a move that had made you a bit off balance. That however had his brows adorably furrow and in a glare and point to your belly he said to your girls, “You be nice to my Bunny. Or you’ll be in big trouble.”

Up into your side you lifted him for a welcome nestling hug and kiss to his forehead as you said, “Thank you Teddy Bear,” to the others’ wide adoring smiles in the moment that Victor captured with your camera.

.

Morning came soon enough with noon shortly after in the middle of another flurry that had both brothers off in town helping alongside Eddie some of the older neighbors to finish some minor repairs. Both Norma and Dawn however were tucked in bed with their much needed naps. The girls were mid lunch handled by Erik and Edie while you sat cross legged on the rug building a castle of blocks with Teddy who giggled the higher the structure began to grow. “We need a hat!”

Teddy exclaimed and you giggled in asking, “Hat?”

He nodded and pointed to the top of the tower on the side, “King’s house had a hat.”

“Oh, a flag. There’s some paper in the library I’ll fold us up a flag.”

He nodded and tottered off with Olive right behind him in her usual habit of shadowing the boy when on his own and your eyes turned towards the door that Victor entered, shivered and stomped with eyes cast your way once certain the door was sealed shut again to not let out too much heat. “Hey Pipsqueak, you’re on the floor.”

“We’re building a castle, Teddy is fetching paper for a flag.” You said to his strip from his outer snow protective layer that left him in trousers and a button down shirt once his snowy things were hung up.

“Well every castle needs a flag,” he hummed on his way over to sit beside you with smile spreading in a subtle scoop of the camera along the way to snap a picture of you sat down beside the castle that you giggled in notice of his plan that granted him a wide smile for the captured moment. “This’ll be among my favorites.” With legs crossed he plopped down beside you and watched teddy walk back with the paper from his coloring cubby with the dog behind him with bucket of supplies dangling from her mouth.

“Kitty! We need a hat!”

“Flag,” you again repeated and the boy nodded and again said, “hat,” that had you and Victor chuckle and you asked in settling the paper out beside the bucket Olive put down to  hop up and lay out on the couch again beside her daughter Pepper still lost to her nap.

“What do you want on the flag?”

Various flags between the three of you were folded up and colored then placed atop the castle, all of which that slid close to falling off when James came home that had the momentary scowling boy stand up and smile mid shout of, “Unc Jim come make a hat!”

James smiled mid strip and once his clothes were hung up he came to join you all and post sweet kiss on your cheek he leaned in to join in on the fun that Teddy, now on his lap was guiding him through. Until his own flag was added. Lunch called and Victor lifted the boy while James helped to keep you steady in the unfold of your legs to climb from your knees up on your feet again.

.

Weeks of snow and in the break of 1948 came on the cusp of a fireplace smoldering with the end of needed firewood to warm the cabin that now was packed up for the long drive back again. Erik excitedly was back to finish his final semester in his high school with Edie planned ahead to head back to the market and get more material to make more of the outfits to add to your supply she would mail to you in Brooklyn. Just a whiff of some herbs and sauces in the drive back through the Italian block signaled a mental warning to the other cars to turn and stop to get something to eat before the final few blocks to the unlock of your home.

“Bunny Howler, sight for sore eyes Happy New Year.” Vinny Tortelli said upon your entrance into the warm eatery with his family scattered in a couple of the booths who turned their heads to nod in welcome to the surprising guests.

“Happy New Year,” you said and flashed a smile to his aunt and grandmother who came to the counter with spreading curious smiles of their own. “I know it’s close to closing.”

Vinny shook his head as his grandmother shook her head and ushered you inside in a path around the counter, “You all come in with those babies out of the cold and eat our food.”

Vinny’s cousin said, “We’re open another few hours anyways our food delivery for next week is running late.”

Outer coats were hung on the hooks around the large curved booth you were taken to and following a chuckle the shift of your sweater that folded a bit around your belly that had Vinny say, “I see someone’s been productive.” That turned your head and he gestured to your belly in your scoot aside to let James sit on the end of the booth, “Won’t be long before you can’t hide that bump when it warms up.”

Softly you chuckled and rested your hands on the table with fingers around the menu that drew his eyes to your new rings as you answered, “You have no idea. Barely halfway and I’ve puffed up nearly to put some full term women to shame.”

He smirked and asked, “I take it that explains the diamonds too? Heard you were up for a new gift with some sparkle.”

In a half smirking glance at James you said, “James’ idea to make me feel better on my others not fitting.”

Vinny chuckled as his grandmother now returned with some fresh breadstick baskets she eased between the couples at the table and said, “I knew those papers were trash. Who would trust a frog over strong genes. Snack on these and we will feed you and your growing baby, sure to be big one.”

You smirked and after a skim of the menu gave your order with the others as Vinny chatted with you all about the stories and what Eddie’s plans were concerning the stories the Daily Bugle could run about your change. Food however had the company to focus on their family and business at the sight of the truck that drove around the block to get to the back alley that they stood to help unload. Large servings and a helping of desserts with a paid bill later and off to your home you went for a welcome end to the trip.

In through the garage everyone unloaded the truck and cars into the lit and warming up house by everyone but you in your nest in the living room with the napping babies and pets. With the puppies and Mr Whiskers however you made your way up to your floor to simply take off your boots and get some sleep.

.

“Bunny!” Ambrose said with a smile wide in her hurry to close the distance between you in the morning drop in by the whole brood.

Gina however joined her in saying, “Off your feet! We found you a few nice dress patterns for Mass we want you to pick from.” Hours the family soaked up all they could and helped to plan what you might want for a nursery as they were all trying to think up ways they cold help on those grounds. Each kick between snacks had groups of hands on your belly until the time when you would be bundled up for the Wednesday Mass that would break you back into the pattern again. For now at least a wrap dress that Gina had made to fit for you from one of her old dresses to tide you over underneath a warm sweater and jacket helped to disguise the belly that Father Thomas took all that it had in him to not shout the change in your life that other former mothers had already guessed. Just your face alone that had given the change away with the new larger rings to drive the assumption home.

Mr Maisey however, father to three sets of triplets, was the one to break the ice and topic and caught you on your way to take communion. Just one look and he had a knowing smirk on his face in saying, “This is so familiar.”

His eyes shifted to James’ over your head, which wasn’t hard to do before but was even more so at your reluctance to wear heels since the kicking began to lessen chances of tumbles. In a chuckle James simply admitted to what was already known, “Triplets.”

Mr Maisey in a deep throated chuckle nodded and said to you, “Our youngest have a cold, but next week I’ll send the Missus round to pass over some pointers. Not that you need them for when they’re here, you’re the only one who was able to grant us nights off when they were fresh at home.”

“Thank you. Any tips would be helpful and she’s the only one to know the stakes.”

His grin spread and he said, “And don’t worry about the stories they tell you about needing a cut to have your babies. Had two sets born on their own and the last set took a cut merely because they tried to make it last a week on us and the older six at home were giving their gramps hell when we were gone.”

That had you giggle remembering that was how you were hired by the elderly man on edge who needed some backup of his own having seen at Mass and in town how you had helped with the younger Brocks since your adoption into the brood. “Yes, I remember how unruly they tried to be. Hopefully I can have a good birth, easy is out the window, but so far everything seems to be going well.”

“That’s good,” he said having taken notice of Mrs Cahn behind you who in a clear sign of withholding a secret and a smile tucked her lower lip between her teeth until she could pass on through her knitting circle just what and to whom you were talking about. Everyone had been up in arms over the story and with little to sue for from the leak in the lab of your exam it seemed to the town that there would be no justice in this for the woman whose reputation had been scuffed. Yet now evidently pregnant and so with triplets no less was a huge bitten thumb towards the Times for their story now that was publicly to be known to weigh less than the paper it was printed on.

He turned to Father Thomas however at the front of the line and in kneeling accepted his communion while his eldest six children on his left accepted from the younger Priest in training that handled all the children’s communion. James was next accepting in a trade of wide knowing smiles through his bend to the cushioned bench with lips parting for the communion wafer that they closed around to the Father’s hushed murmur. Up he rose in a cross of himself and stepped aside with eyes on you ready to help you down and up only to see the Father say with a smile, “You may stand.” Softly you chuckled to yourself and stepped up to the bench to accept the wafer and smile around it trying not to cry in his saying, “Congratulations. Truly a blessing and an answer to so very many prayers.”

All you could do was smile and turn in a cross of yourself. Stepping aside to let Eddie take his turn as you joined Victor to the side where he held Teddy and Marigold for Dawn and Eddie while Norma spoke to Ambrose about plans for your next appointment this weekend when she would come by again to continue sharing this experience with you.

Pt 50

#James Howlett x Reader OC #Victor Creed x Norma Jeane #Eddie Brock x OC #Erik and Edie #Teddy Brock #Marigold Dove Pear #Time in Canada #Nesting Period #Pregnancy Awkwardness #Family Time #New Gifts #Back to Brooklyn #Dinner with the Tortelli Family #Spread the News #Meeting the Maisey's