#i still call her my evil step auntie but like it is loaded with so much love now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thethousandyearwitch · 3 years

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Fatal Taste

“The townspeople believe you’re some kind of evil spirit or monster-” he laughed lightly, not sure if it was because of that ridiculous thought, or because of the soft lips that were caressing the underside of his jaw. “Oh, Ging,” Pariston sighed against his skin in a way that chased goosebumps up his spine. “They are right.” -----------

Ging Freecss has been summoned by his elusive pen-pal Pariston Hill, to examine his claim of a rare and unheard of art collection. Even despite the warnings and difficulties on the way, he was not prepared for what awaited him at the artful mansion.

M-Rated; Vampire!Pariston Hill x Art Appraiser!Ging Freecss.

AO3 Link!

It was the height of summer, as a horse drawn carriage made its way into a small valley village, about 8 miles off the coast, 20 miles from the country’s capital. The sky was mostly clear, and hungry crows on fenceposts watched the carriage pass between grazing fields. The carriage itself didn’t carry a heavy load, just some imported goods from the harbour destined to be sold in the capital, the carriage driver, and a stranger to the country, with messy black hair and rough beard stubble, who had asked for a lift. During the ride he kept mostly quiet, though he introduced himself as “Ging Freecss”.

As they reached the village’s main plaza, the man hopped of the carriage, and bid the driver goodbye with a thanks and some money he had pulled from his trousers, seemingly with no mind paid to how much he was actually giving out.

There wasn’t much to this town, a couple rows of houses with dusted windows, a quaint pub with a few tables decked outside, one of which was occupied by an elderly couple, and a shrine to a local god adorned with candles and food offerings. Ging decided to sit down for a brief rest at the pub, grateful to take refuge in the shade of a sun umbrella next to the tables.

After a short while, a short and stout young woman greeted him and offered him a menu, though he knew well that all he wanted to order was a cold beer. And his wish got fulfilled, as she returned quickly with half a litre of local beer and some trail mix in a bowl. The waitress spoke up with a bubbly voice. “We don’t get many outsiders, sir, you’ve must have had quite a trip. Are you on your way to the capital?”

Ging took a large gulp of his drink before he replied, welcomed the cool chill that chased down his throat. “Ah, No, though I heard it’s a beautiful old city. I’m here to appraise someone’s art collection. Do you think you could help me find an address, actually?” He handed the waitress a neatly folded letter and pointed at the sender’s address. She mustered the handwriting closely before gasping lightly.

“That’s mister Hill’s manor! How do you know him, sir?”

At the same time, the old man at the other table turned around with a stern look. “You must not go there if you value your life, son.”

“I’ve only been in correspondence with him over letters, and though he seems like a weird fellow, I doubt that his antics will cost me my life.” Ging laughed with a rough voice, though the man’s stare didn’t waver.

“He’s a strange and dangerous man. I’ve heard of women visiting him and never returning.”

“Maybe they liked it there so much that they didn’t want to leave! I’ve met him before, he was real polite and friendly, even invited me to his home. But my parents would have killed me if I’d gone out that late in the night.” The waitress sighed wistfully.

“Do you insist to go, young man?” Now the old lady spoke up, her voice sounded sore and stutter-y.

“I’m here to do a job, and if his collection is the real thing, then I’d hate to miss it. But I’ll be quick, probably on my way back to the harbour by the end of the evening.”

The old woman stood up and walked with slow steps over to him, before insistingly grabbing at his hand and pulling him up from his seat. “Come pray then, boy.”

“Ma’am, really, I will be fine, I- I am a grown man- “She pushed him towards the shrine and signalled for him to kneel. “I’m not very religious, y’know- “

“Nonsense, in the face of danger, every man can turn towards any god. Let me pray over you.” Ging rolled his eyes but knew better than to argue with an elderly woman, being beaten with a cane can teach you that lesson. “Dear Gods, watching high above, protect this soul who has strayed from his dedicated path. Guide him to safety and be the shining armour that repels any and all mischievous evils. Assist him in making his judgement, and forgive him for his faults, as we forgive as well. Hold him tight within your hand until he may part which his earthly body to meet you once again.”

Ging waited and listened to the eerie prayer until she removed her hand from his shoulder. “Say, Auntie, a couple rumours don’t turn a man into a monster, do they?”

“People have gone missing in the woods around the mansion. The house itself, it’s always been known to home something evil, for centuries. You youngsters are not in touch anymore with recognizing something malevolent even if it were to spit in your face.”

That cryptic message- or insult- still couldn’t convince Ging not to head towards his destination. Afterall, something like evil spirits couldn’t be real, or else he’d be haunted twice over after disturbing crypts and burial sites, places of worship and sacrifice, the last remains of civilisations long gone. Not once did he think about ghosts or monsters taking revenge.

This ‘Pariston Hill’ was no monster, but most likely just a pretentious man with too much money, feigning interest in art without understanding their purpose and meaning.

Ging asked the waitress again about the address, and she explained a step-by-step on which road he had to hike up to reach the manor. He left her a tip, bid farewell to the old couple, and started to head up the hill road, burlap sack with a few travel belongings over his shoulder.

The road quickly turned from sturdy cobblestone to dirt as he walked, the surrounding forest grew thicker and unkempt around the trail. The woods were quiet except for the occasional crow-cry and wing flutters in the tree crowns. Sweat made his clothes stick uncomfortably to his skin, his hair frizzed due to the humidity. He was an experienced hiker, but he still was sure that anyone who decided to build a mansion only accessible via dirt road was a sadist.

But as much as Ging craved refreshment from the heat again, the subtle static in the air and the increase of tiny insects flying around hinted at something unwelcomed: A summer storm was brewing. It wasn’t unusual for this part of the country, but it could certainly throw him off his schedule.

“Please, anything but- “Ging tried to plead to whatever deity in these parts might be responsible for weather, however he was interrupted by a blinding flash of lighting, followed by booming thunder, and finally cold rain. “Asshole.”

After a half-hearted jog through the rain and mud that would soak him head to toe, dim lights of a fenced in mansion came into view. A lit oil lamp illuminated an unlocked gate, and a gold-plated sign with fancy curled letters that spelled ‘Pariston Hill’. Ging didn’t second guess the open gate and let himself in, eager to get out from under the downpour. As the gate creaked open, he could have sworn he saw a cat that scurried around the corner, but it was gone before he could have been sure. An orange brick path led directly to the main entrance of the house, adorned on either side with well-kept lawn, hedges cut into elaborate shapes, and exotic flowers that Ging had seen in other countries and continents. The entrance was made up of two large solid wood doors, intricate floral carvings, and two iron door knockers that seemed to be decades old but kept in good shape.

But as the rain seeped deeper into his clothes, Ging disregarded the aged architecture and gave the door a few heavy knocks. Through the rain he tried to listen for a response or approaching footsteps, in vain. And yet without any warning, the door clicked, creaked, and slowly opened. Bright light from inside illuminated the outside area of the entrance. In the middle of the light, there he stood.

He seemed a bit taller than Ging, a perfect posture as if practiced. His hair stood out even against the equally golden light, and he wore a vermillion suit, most likely more expensive than the entirety of Gings closet combined. For some reason, the term ‘handsome devil’ came to mind.

For a second, the man looked down on him with a serious, even hostile expression, before he gave a pleasant smile in recognition. “Ging Freecss, I assume? Seems like you had a refreshing journey here.” He leisurely held out a hand, which Ging immediately took for a hearty handshake, subtly making sure that rain splatter from his hand and sleeve would scatter.

“I do enjoy a good hike, and a free shower is a free shower.” He flashed a determined grin, and Pariston removed himself from the man’s cold and clammy grip, still smiling though disgust flashed within his dark eyes. He stepped a bit to the side and made an exaggerated hand motion to invite Ging to step inside the manor.

The entrance hall was lit with a large crystal chandelier and a warm fireplace at the other side of the room, with two red velvet seats facing the fire. Marble floor was covered with a long red carpet, while the walls were adorned with classical paintings. Just at a glance Ging could tell they weren’t imitations.

“Ging- If you allow me to address you so intimately,” Pariston started, though he didn’t wait for an answer before he continued, “Ging, I’ve been anxiously looking forward to your visit. Now, I could have always called a local appraiser to come and do their job, but I sense a sort of passion within you that I’m sure won’t disappoint me.” He flashed another smile, though far from genuine as his stare and tone dripped with mockery.

“Well, usually I would have declined to come such a long way on a shallow request of a pen-pal, but it would be a shame to let the outrageous claim of a complete Ushiromiya portrait collection go unchecked. Where’s the goods?” Ging leisurely started to press out the water that had soaked into his clothes, directly onto the red carpet below. In any other case he may have shown an art collector more respect, but the smug aura of this man, which had already seeped through any and all letters he had ever received of him, pushed Gings buttons in all the wrong ways.

“I’d think a professional appraiser such as yourself wouldn’t want to examine rare paintings in such a condition that you’re in. It would be a shame if you were to get some dirt on them. Why don’t you go ahead and have a shower, while I retrieve the paintings from their safe?”

“I’m pretty confident in my ability to spot a forgery from a safe distance.”

“I’d be a terrible host if you were to catch a cold.”

“Never been sick in my life, now, I insist- “

“This is my humble home, and they are my paintings, Ging. I am the one who insists. And after all, a free shower is a free shower, isn’t it?” Pariston approached him and took clear advantage of his height, looking down at his visitors with an overly polite smile. Ging had never backed down from a challenge, however, his curiosity about the paintings had increased more and more as he looked around the mansion and noticed more authentic art and architecture. If Pariston Hill had truly come into possession of a rare collection, he didn’t want to deprive the world of this discovery just because he refused to take a shower.

“Alright then, but I don’t have a change of clothes.”

“I’ll generously lend you some of my attire, though I won’t make any promises about it fitting someone of your stature.” Pariston laughed lightly as he proceeded to push Ging towards another room down the hall. “Use any towels, soaps, and the likes as you please, be my guest~”

The washroom Ging got ushered into was equipped with a marble sink, a spacious shower, and a white cabinet that held towels of different sizes and colours. It was clean, maybe too clean, as he could find no trace of this room being used…ever. No water stains on the faucet or at the shower tiles, no used toiletries. Most likely it was a washroom just for guests, and he didn’t want to think about the over-the-top luxury that must hide in the master bathroom.

As he pulled his water-heavy clothes off his body, cold air hit his damp skin, there was a knock on the door. “I’ve got your change of clothes~ I’m sure you’ll like these even more than your regular attire.”

“What am I supposed to do about my clothes? I assume you don’t want me to leave them on the floor to rot?” He cautiously pressed one shoulder against the door, just in case his strange host would get any ideas.

“If you insist to keep them, I can hang them to dry by the fire.”

“You mean ‘dry’, and not ‘burn’, right?”

There was a moment of hesitation, before another light laugh echoed through the door. “What kind of person do you take me for?”

“I’ve been told it’s rude to insult a host. Thanks for the clothes!” Ging quickly opened the door just enough that he could fit his arms through, grabbed the neatly folded pile of fresh laundry, and dropped his soaked clothes into Paristons still extended arms, before he shut the door and clicked the lock. He could hear the sound of the clothes hitting the floor with a wet noise and snickered to himself.

After a long, warm shower, Ging tried his best to towel dry his hair, though in the end he opted to just slick it back. The clothes Pariston had picked out for him were simple, though not necessarily his style: Black slacks, and a white button up that didn’t seem to fit quite right, thus opting to roll up the sleeves just below his elbows and tuck most of the shirt into the pants. He kept the three most top buttons unbuttoned, because he had always hated the stuffy feelings of suits and dress shirts. The faint smell of cologne that wasn’t his stuck to the clothes, but he pretended not to notice. It smelled of cinnamon.

He exited the bathroom, towels discarded in the sink for whoever to clean up, only to find Pariston at the fireplace, Gings clothes neatly folded over the velvet chairs, as he held a small piece of paper. A picture.

“What an adorable baby!”

Ging approached him with quick step and snatched the picture out of his hands at an admirable speed. “Do you usually go through your guests’ belongings or am I a special case?”

“My, I was merely picking up something that fell out of your pockets. Is it your child?”

“What if he was?” Ging glanced over his spread-out clothes, suspicious of any tempering that might have been done.

“He certainly looks like you, if not as, how do you say,” Pariston waved his hand around as if he were to grab a word out of thin air, “bellicose.”

“Whatever that is supposed to mean. He’s my son; since you’re so curious.”

“Well, well~ Congratulations to you and your- “Pariston glanced at Gings hands, before he made eye contact again, prying smile “wife?”

“No such woman exists. Did you invite me here to pry in person about my life, or do I actually get to see the art?”

“Just making casual conversation. But since you are less of a hazard now, I’d love to see you go to work.”

“Don’t throw me out when you have to face the hard truth, though.” He shuffled through his light luggage to retrieve some appraisal tools, then followed Pariston Hill up a wooden staircase that opened to a long hallway of unmarked doors, and the walls here too were lined with paintings. Some were simple landscapes; others elaborate portraits of different eras. A couple of the artists seemed familiar, though most of them seemed to come from absurd sources or lacked an artist’s signature at all. He stopped in front of one particular painting: A painting of this very mansion. It was yellowed with age, and the edges that poked out from its golden frame seemed worn out and somewhat burned. A signature at the very bottom read in cursive ‘P.H.’ and a date around 50 years back. “Huh?”

“Ging~ Here please.” Pariston held a door open, this time with a smile that seemed almost painful with how his teeth were clenched. Ging decided not to question it, and followed his host into a dim room, packed with various dusted boxes and furniture covered in blankets. At the very end stood a row of aged easels holding up paintings.

“Think they will look more genuine in the dark?” he joked dryly, but his eccentric host flicked on a gas lamp in the row with a fool’s confidence, and-

The room lit up and Ging faced four stunning paintings.

He had studied the previously only known Ushiromiya painting painstakingly when he was still just an apprentice. He learned the way the brush strokes had been made in deliberate ways, burned the colour choices into the back of his eyelids, knew the exact curvature of the one-winged eagle that adorned its signature.

These paintings were real. There was no other explanation.

He went up close, examined the texture, searched for any mistakes in disbelief. But each one was flawless.

“And? Did I waste your time?” Pariston stood a couple feet back, arms crossed, and head tilted.

“They are real… Pariston, this is ground-breaking!” Ging spun around, his face a mix of bewilderment and pure joy. This joy only doubled when Pariston clapped his hands together and seemed to be just as elated.

“Wonderful! Simply splendid!”

“We might be some of the only people alive to have ever seen these!” Ging enthusiastically grabbed Parison by the shoulders, his mind was racing with potential studies he could write on these paintings and the way their existence was to alter history. “How did you get these?”

“They were given to my family by the original artists; So I’ve been told.” A mysterious smile, almost melancholy danced on his lips, before he gave another flash of his shining teeth. “I never doubted their authenticity, but I couldn’t keep their existence to myself, could I?”

Ging gave an enthusiastic slap on Paristons shoulder, feeling for the first time like the two of them shared a surprising, genuine connection. “Will you donate them to a museum? Try to contact the family of the Artist? Or the remaining Ushiromiya family members?”

“I will keep them here. Maybe hang them in my study. Now, would you care for a meal, Ging?”

“What?”

Pariston had already walked back to the door and flicked off the light, his silhouette only illuminated by the faint lights in the hallway. “I’ve let my chef prepare us a meal. I assume you don’t get asked for dinner often then.” He chuckled.

“I thought you didn’t want to keep their existence to yourself!”

“And I didn’t. You know about them now. Exciting, isn’t it?” He chuckled once again, before he disappeared into the hallway.

Ging weighed his option if he were to grab the paintings and escape into the night, but the storm still raged on outside, and he couldn’t safely juggle 4 large canvases all the way to the harbour or capital by himself.

For now, all he really could do was to find a way to convince Pariston to change his mind, through persuasion, threats, or force. Maybe if he were to get some outside forces to apply pressure, he recalled his colleague in forensics, Cheadle, owed him a favour.

He stepped into the hallway and quickly fell into step besides Pariston. “Dinner would be lovely, I’m sure, unfortunately I’m on a tight schedule, so I’d rather get going. I could write you a certificate of authenticity for the collection, though I’d need a second appraiser for the process. My good colleague Miss Yorkshire would be thrilled to visit, I’d think.”

Pariston came to a halt, ran his hand through his messy blond streaks of hair with a sigh. “Oh, Ging, I simply can’t let you continue in this weather. No ship will sail under these conditions, and the way to the capital is prone to mudslides. I don’t want to be complicit in your accidental death.” Ging was about to argue before he was cut off once again. “As for your colleague, you can gladly summon miss Cheadle Yorkshire here, though we’ve never been on very good terms.”

“Wh- How do you know her?”

“Let’s discuss it over dinner, shall we?”

Ging expected to be taken to a large dining hall with a table set for a dozen people, but in the end, they entered a separate room adjacent to it, with a medium scale dining table only decked for two. Unlike the other rooms in the house, this one was lit with multiple candles in elaborate holders -17thcentury bronze, Ging thought – and a phonograph was playing a concert recording. The men took their seats at opposed ends of the table, Ging sat with a natural comfort and slack, as if any seat he claimed was immediately his own with no regard to manners or humility; Pariston sat with seemingly practiced confidence and superiority as he made a show of crossing his legs and resting his chin on his hand. A confidence that irritated Ging to no end.

“Must be lonely to usually eat by yourself in this large, dusty room, huh?”

“I keep company one way or another.” Pariston spread a napkin on his lap, though the twitch of his eyebrow indicated his true annoyance with Gings remark.

Just then the door from the hallway opened, and a tall man in a chef’s uniform entered, as he pushed a small silver cart stacked with dishes. As he stepped closer, Ging noticed strange markings around his eyes, though there was no telling if they were tattoos or merely makeup. “Good evening,” he mumbled, in a voice unlikely for a man of his tall stature, “tonight’s meal is wagyu rump steak with rice and garlic Bok choy, served with a bottle of mister Hills personal wine selection.” After Pariston nodded in approval, the tall man started to serve the plates and poured two glasses of deep red wine.

“Don’t tell me you eat like this every day.”

“Of course not~ I prefer Kobe Fillet. I was trying to be mindful of less acquainted tastes.”

“You’re right, I don’t eat beef a lot. I prefer fish, but I understand that not everyone can get their hands on bluefin tuna.”

“Maybe I will let it be prepared for next time.”

“Is it that lonely up here that you’re already inviting me to another dinner?”

“I just assumed you’d appreciate the company, without a significant other and the fact that your child is most likely not under your care.”

The men exchanged challenging looks. Pariston still had a polite smile, though he started to lean forward in his chair like a predator about to pounce, while Ging couldn’t keep an irritated smirk form his lips. The tension was only interrupted by the chef, who cleared his throat and told the men to enjoy their meals. Just then the sweet and savoury smell of the food hit Ging, and he couldn’t deny the hunger that had built itself up.

Pariston lifted his own wine glass up, red liquid sparkled in the candlelight. “To the most interesting guest who has found his way into my home.”

In response, the man in question raised his own glass, though with less bravado and more at leisure. “To the Ushiromiya collection and their questionable owner.”

Both of the men started drink from their wine, though Ging noticed Paristons eyes on him, as if he awaited a reaction. The wine was sweet on Gings tongue, it lacked the usual sting that wine would give him once he swallowed.

“How is it?”

“Could be worse. You’ve got a lot of time on your hands to even make your own wine.”

The blond started to cut off a piece of his meal, and took a small bite, never breaking eye contact. “I am a man that easily gets bored. I need a lot of hobbies.”

“That makes two of us.”

They ate mostly in silence, music from the phonograph kept the atmosphere light. Ging hadn’t realized just how hungry he was, until he finally ate enough and the lingering knot in his stomach loosened. He emptied his plate in what felt like record time, no regard for table manners, and drank more wine while Pariston ate at a patient (and reasonable) pace. After his third glass, he was expecting the normal pleasant buzz that alcohol gave him, in vain.

“You still need to explain to me how you and Cheadle are acquainted.” He poured himself another glass, which Pariston seemed to approve.

“We have met a couple years prior, at a theatre opening in the city, hosted by Sir Netero. A friend of a friend, so to say. Unfortunately, people like us aren’t meant to get along. I offered her a dance out of curtesy, but I felt like she might have mauled me if I insisted.”

Ging laughed lightly, “She does have a temperament. I can’t imagine her being much of a dancer.”

“Saying something like that about a lady isn’t very nice, especially considering the same could be said about you.”

“Bold assumption, with no evidence.”

“You don’t look like you’d have the grace required for dancing.”

“I may not get invited to many balls, but I’ve known myself around a couple dancing events.”

“Are you willing to prove yourself?” Pariston got up from his seat, walked over to Ging, and as the phonograph started to play another orchestra song, he extended his hand to him. “May I have this dance?”

The shorter man hesitated, but unable to admit defeat to the other, he took the hand and immediately got pulled into the starting position for a Viennese Waltz, his right hand in Paristons, his left rested on the others upper arm; Paristons right hand rested on Gings shoulder-blade. As they started to move, Ging had to concentrate hard to not look at his feet, seeing as it would be an admission to not being confident in his steps, though locking eyes with the other man stirred something uncomfortable within him. He couldn’t clearly remember the last time he had danced with someone else, so the closeness of it felt foreign. As the music continued, they waltzed through the room, at first only in the ‘natural box’, though soon Pariston led them to side whisks and natural turns, a steadily increased pace.

“I do have to admit, you’re better at this than I initially thought.” Pariston smiled.

“You shouldn’t judge a book so easily by its cover.”

“You shouldn’t forget who has the lead.” Before Ging could question the statement, he was dipped low as the orchestral music seemed to reach its climax, hands immediately grabbing for more hold before he’d meet the ground. In the end, he clung to Paristons shoulders in a move that lacked grace but not force. The other man meanwhile had let go of his shoulder-blade, and instead had both hands secure at Gings waist. “Afraid I would drop you?”

“It’s what I would have done.”

The two men laughed and stood themselves up straight once again, but their hands remained where they were, whether it was a conscious decision or not. A slower song started, the name of it at the tip of Gings tongue, and as he pondered it, he may not have even noticed that they started a slow dance together. It was a simple three-step, and Pariston would occasionally close his eyes to hum along to the music, uncaring of the closer contact between him and the other man; The longer it went on, so did Ging.

“I didn’t think you’d agree to dance.”

“Maybe the alcohol made me more susceptible to idiocy.”

“There was no alcohol in that wine, Ging. Or at least not enough, to get you anywhere near an inebriated state.” He chuckled.

“A wine without alcohol can barely call itself a wine. What is in it, then?”

“I wonder if you can guess~”

Ging thought about it for a minute, determined to prove himself better once again. “It was very sweet, but too water-y to just be crushed fruit.” This only elicited a humoured ‘Mhm’. “I think it is a process of combining younger wine with some sort of flavoured tea.”

“Incorrect, but a good try~”

“What is it then?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Ging rolled his eyes, but continued their slow dance, as he got used to the hands on his waist that occasionally tapped their fingers to the music. “Keeping secrets must be another of your hobbies. The wine, the portraits…” He trailed off when he realized that Pariston inched closer; He smiled, self-satisfied, dark eyes focused solely on the other. Suddenly Ging felt the blood in his veins run cold, like faced with a predator in the woods, his heart was beating in this throat. Every nerve in his body started to feel shocked and screamed to run. But he couldn’t. Didn’t want to. And so, he stood still when Paristons ghostly cold hand cradled the side of his face as if another rare piece of art. When Ging didn’t flinch away from the touch, the blond placed a first kiss just on the corner of the others mouth. Then another. And another. Until Ging turned his head just enough to connect their lips.

Paristons lips were soft and faintly tasted of that sweet wine, with each kiss his hold on the others waist would tighten, like he was afraid he’d turn and run. But instead, the shorter man wrapped his arms around the blonds’ neck, even a tad eager to press his tongue between his lips, to be closer, to taste more. Every new connected kiss made his stomach twist in just the right way, he relished that it felt dangerous, maybe even wrong, and yet so satisfying.

After what felt like hours, though realistically it was probably a couple of minutes, their lips parted and Gings head was left spinning as Pariston continued to kiss along his jaw. But there is one thing that pulled at his mind, annoyingly so.

“Oh, Ging,” Pariston sighed against his skin in a way that chased goosebumps up his spine. “They are right.”

“Wha- “Suddenly a sharp, paralyzing pain shot from Gings neck to the ends of his body. He couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, all he could do was to drive his nails deeper into the others shoulder, and let out quiet gasps. Meanwhile a thumb stroked over his cheekbone as if to soothe, the other hand on the small of his back to keep him from collapsing.

He wondered if he was going to die here, at the hands of a vampire that he’d been warned about. He wondered if he’d been deliberately seduced- did he consider himself seduced? – just to be killed.

He threaded his fingers through the vampire’s hair, with no energy to pull him away from himself, just enough to hold on. Acceptance. He felt cold.

A tongue lapped over the fresh wound on his neck, followed by a few soft kisses. The pain subsided to a dull numbness. His line of sight started to darken. Pariston cradled Gings face in his hands, lips and chin stained red. He pressed another kiss to his lips, so tender as if he had never revealed his true nature, and the shorter man but couldn’t help but huff out a laugh with the last of his strength.

“Tastes like wine.”

“Another secret revealed to you.”

The last thing Ging saw was Paristons smile and dark eyes. Then blackness.

When Ging came to, the past day felt like a distant dream. He felt no pain, only a comfortable warmth that surrounded him, and someone’s fingers that combed through his hair.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. A dim room he did not recognize, next to him a bedstand with a carafe of water and some medical tools that included gauze, needle, thread, and a dirtied scalpel. He himself was still wearing the clothes he had been presented with after his spontaneous shower. He turned his head to the other side, and there sat Pariston on the same bed, one hand in the man’s hair, the other held an aged book. At the movement, he retracted his hand in shock, before his signature smile flashed once more.

“You’re awake.”

“I’m alive.” It somewhat hurt to talk, and as he reflexively reached for his own throat, he felt a thick bandage at the side of his neck. “You kept me alive. Why?” He started to sit himself up, not wanting to be physically talked down to.

“I don’t want to be bored. You’re the first visitor I’ve had in a while that managed to keep my interest. I guess I am pretty selfish.”

“You are.” Ging reached out to brush a strand of hair from Paristons face, before gently pulling him in for a kiss. “So am I.”

He felt his stomach twist again as they kissed, so sickly sweet, and he wanted more. He deepened the kiss, drank up every relaxed sigh that came from the other, let himself be greedy and reach for more. Even though Pariston almost killed him, still could, he touched Ging like he was something treasured, close enough to not let him escape, but not enough to break him. And maybe that’s what Ging wanted, to be desired, even in a destructive, dangerous sense.

As the feeling returned to all his limbs, he took advantage of it to properly sit himself up, then straddle Paristons lap. He broke their kiss, leaving the other somewhat panting. Again, the blonds’ hand was at the side of his face, not as cold this time, and his thumb traced small circles into his cheek.

“How often have you coerced someone here, just to feed?”

Pariston closed his eyes in thought, “It would be pointless to keep count. But no one has ever made it as far as you have.”

This prompted Ging to claim the vampires’ lips with his own in a possessive kiss. Paristons free hand started to trail up and down the shorter man’s thigh; In response, Ging started to feel his way from Paristons shoulders to his chest, lean but firm muscle.

And no heartbeat.

Of course, there wouldn’t be. He was dead.

Ging thought about how, maybe in a different lifetime, the two of them could have met through different means, both alive and entirely human. He thought about the countless people that have stepped into this mansion, never to return to their families. How even he would one day pass, either through natural means or because Pariston had lost interest in his existence. Would he ever let someone else get this far, after Ging? He felt cold steel in his hand.

This time, Pariston was the first to break the kiss, only for a moan to escape his lips. By now, they had slipped further down the mattress, with Pariston flat on his back while Ging still firmly straddled his hips. He looked so human under Ging, dark eyes half lidded and even the faintest flush on his cheeks.

Ging thought about how long he could stay here. About all the paintings in this mansion and their history he could study. About shared dinners and slow dancing to orchestral music. The image of himself as a corpse, entirely dry, flashed in his mind. A wine bottle with his name written on it.

Ging took Paristons hand from his face and held it over his racing heart. “I don’t think someone else has ever done this to me.” It felt ridiculous to say but it also tasted so bitter with truth to say out loud. His other hand grasped the foreign, cold object harder.

“What an honour~” Pariston purred, and he tried to lean up to unite in another kiss before he got pushed back into the mattress.

“We are both selfish, Paris. I don’t want you to do this to anyone else. And I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

In the vampires’ eyes flashed confusion, irritation, and then the glistening object that Ging had hidden. The scalpel from the bedside table. And in his last moment, he smiled with such honesty, that it felt like it was Ging who would receive that fatal blow to the heart.

It was over in a moment.

The scalpel, with enough force, had swiftly pierced through the ribs all the way to his heart, and after a pained gasp and a bit of twitching, Pariston Hill had died.

Ging remained seated for a while; He did not move, just looked. He wondered if he should cry, if he even could if he wanted to. But in the end, he closed Paristons eyes, gave him a parting kiss on the forehead, and left.

He never told anyone about the paintings.

Never told anyone about what he experienced in the mansion.

He wanted to be selfish and keep this secret just between himself and Pariston. Forever.

#ALMOST 1 AM BUT IM FINALLY DONE HELLO PARIGING TAG <3 #Pariging #pariston hill #Ging Freecss #Hunter x hunter #fanfiction #hxh fanfiction #pariging fanfiction #vampires #pariging hxh #vampire au

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dragonnan · 3 years

Text

@sgam76 I realized I forgot to reply to your ask so here tis!

“Ok, gotta be Sherlock Evil Auntie.” [for the unpublished WIP tag game]

I actually have nearly 2,000 words written for this so far. The essence of the story is that Sherlock and Mycroft (and Eurus) have an aunt who they, thankfully, don’t see often but even once is too much. She is mean-spirited, bigoted, meddling, and has a bit too much power within the family. I have not yet developed much background in this but I can think there’s some kinda scheming stuff between her and Rudy. In this story, she shows up in London somewhat unannounced and Sherlock is roped into hosting her for the afternoon at Baker Street. THANKS Mycroft...

Here is a snippet!

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“Mycroft. Didn't know you were coming round.” Jock edged into the flat; arms loaded with groceries of which neither Holmes man offered assistance. A disgusted eye roll, John kicked the door shut with his heel and lugged his purchases to the kitchen – stacking the parcels on the stove.

Sherlock, still eyeing his brother, allowed a smile to widen. “Expecting someone else? And who could that be, I wonder... Not a member of staff – you'd have arranged a meeting at your office and well away from the rain. Not a welfare check, either, as I've been clean for the past six months; something you'd have known from frequent interrogations of my flatmate.”

In the kitchen, John straightened – his lip bowing down in a grimace. Sherlock bypassed the discomfort as one would ease around a mound of horse manure in the street so as not to soil their shoes.

“While your enjoyment of my company is as enthusiastic as my own; today you are particularly put out. A necessity – no, a debt. Oh, Mycroft, you should have known better than to owe favors to Mummy. She has a particularly twisted humor when calling them due. Finally, returning back to initial observation – you are here. Meaning your debt is now incurred by myself, as well – thank you for that. Conclusion; a person we both know, and also known by Mummy. Someone we both find distasteful as your anxiety carried a kernel of venomous delight in the sharing. Given that Granny Charlotte has been deceased for well past a decade that leaves a single candidate...”

Downstairs, on cue, the door buzzer sounded.

Primarily occupied with loading the refrigerator, the goal to tip the balance back towards food and away from corpses and related paraphernalia, John allowed a momentary pause in his labors to acknowledge the slightly cryptic conversation.

“I'm sorry – are you saying we've got visitors?”

Both Holmes men flinched in a manner that only any aficionado of the brand would recognize. Oh, now this was interesting. Not many could send either man into distress – even more rare to affect both at once. John battled with a grin.

“Would you like me to fetch my weapon?”

“Yes.” Spoken by both men so quickly their voices overlapped. Slightly more disconcerting but given Sherlock's occasional dramatics, John held off on arming himself to cross his arms. Below, he could hear Mrs. Hudson engaging with whomever had arrived – though the vocal range of the other person was a titch too low to make out a reply.

“Either of you mind filling me in?”

Thin lips pressing tight, Mycroft merely shifted his shoulders; his reply aimed at Sherlock. “He's your flatmate.”

Pale eyes rolling in disgust, Sherlock dropped into his chair by the fireplace; arms draped over the padding on either side. “It would appear that my brother has seen fit to loose Aunt Nadie upon us.”

John's brow furrowed – his hands now going to his pockets and jamming tight. “Aunt – Aunt... Nadie? You have an aunt?”

“Not a blood relation, thank God.” Mycroft stabbed the tips of his umbrella against the rug with a muffled thunk. “Auntie Nadie moved into a nearby estate after her husband died.”

“Of mysterious causes.” Sherlock interrupted – facing the cold hearth and, no doubt, envisioning a roaring fire.

“Mummy took her on as child minder, when the need arose, though it's been ages since we've seen her and, quite frankly, I'd have thought her long dead.”

“Further evidence that there is no God.” Crossing his legs, Sherlock seemed to fold into himself. John was now feeling a thread of actual concern as he took in the pale face of his friend.

“Sherlock, are you alright?”

“Never better.” The answer may have been delivered with a bright grin but the tight grip his fingers had on the arm of the chair told a different story.

“Sherlock?”

Still near the door, Mycroft barked out a tight laugh. “Oh, I know what this is.”

John stepped closer towards the fireplace – hands freed from his pockets and hanging tense at his sides. “Sherlock... what...?”

Slamming his fist against the chair arm, Sherlock, abruptly, stood. “She touched me!” He roared – eyes brightening with his sudden outrage.

Finding himself two steps back – John tried to pull breath past the tight channel of his throat. “Wait... a-are you saying...?”

Mycroft was the one to roll his eyes, now. “She pinched his cheeks.”

“She pinched your...?” Staring back at Sherlock, John noted the anger giving way to petulance.

“Her hands reeked of cat litter and humbugs.” He glared back towards his brother. “For the life of me I cannot fathom her tactile infatuation with my flesh. Surely a better grip could have been had with your own, pillowy, cheeks. You were always the portly one, after all.”

Beyond the door, the steady creak of someone of moderate girth could be heard ascending the 17 stairs to the flat. John was about done with this nonsense, by this point, yet couldn't deny the curiosity as to the sort of person that could have so unraveled the other two men.

Not long to wait, at all, it appeared – as there was a sharp knock and a voice to follow; a sing-song cadence, it seemed, most elderly employed.

“Sherlock? Myyyycroooft... Are you lads home?” Another rapid-fire series of knocks before the trill of her voice had even faded.

Oh this was too good. Seeing neither man overly inclined to answer, John resumed his position as primary eye roller and stalked towards the door. “No, that's fine. I'll get it.”

He heaved the door wide without preamble and was nearly knocked in the forehead for his trouble.

“Sherl-! Oh...” The older woman squinted at John before lifting penciled eyebrows. “Well clearly you're not him.”

Still on the far side of the room, Sherlock lifted from his chair and held himself stiff – long fingers woven together at the waist. “Auntie. Here to pinch my cheeks again?”

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sherlollydramoine · 4 years

Text

Santa’s Cumming

Warnings: Dad!Rami fluff followed by sexy times... What did y’all expect given the title of this fic?! Mild language, alcohol consumption and unprotected sex (be smart use a condom)

This was written for @itsme690, I hope this is what you had in mind hun.

Word Count: 3,694

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as you watch your skinny ass husband as he awkwardly makes his way down your stairs dressed as Santa Claus. He was holding a large red bag over his right shoulder.

“Hey babe, do you need a little help there? That bag looks heavy.”you inquire,as he almost stumbled off the last step, the weight of the bag throwing off his balance and he nearly toppled over.

“No, I think I’ve got it, but damn this bag is heavy. What the hell did you put in here?”

“Rocks, a mountain troll, some more rocks, a horse, maybe a car or two, the entirety of The Shire, maybe some Mordorian goblins, and baby Yoda.” you chuckle as he rolls his eyes. “Naw babe, just the stuff that was on the list that you gave me. I think it was the stuff you said that the kids wanted but their parents hadn’t bought them for Christmas.”

He laughs out, and sighs,”You had me worried. Poor Baby Yoda shouldn’t be in there with all those evil things. Though if I had to put my money on it I’m sure he could beat the goblins all to hell though.”

You suddenly were overwhelmed with the urge to give him a kiss. He looked so adorable wearing a light sheen of sweat from the stuffy Santa suit and his exertions from carrying the heavy bag down the stairs, you step forward and reach out for him.

“Come here, Mommy wants to give Santa a kiss, even though I thought Santa was supposed to be-” Rami cuts you off mid sentence to capture your lips for a soft kiss, his hands letting go of the bag that just falls to the floor with a thunk. Threading his fingers through your hair deepening the kiss, your bodies starting to melt into each other when you hear someone shuffle their feet and someone clearing their throat. Reluctantly separating you both look towards the source of the noise which was just his brother Sami standing there with a brow raised.

“Sorry to interrupt but, well I’m not sorry, noone wants to walk in here to find you guys having some fun on the stairs. Ram mom wanted me to tell you that it’s starting to get a little late and some of the family is going to have to leave soon.”

“Be right there.” Rami tells him before bending down to pick up the sack of gifts that he had casually dropped during your impromptu make out session.

“Hey babe, you might want to adjust the front of your pants a little, they are um, yeah.”you mention with a smirk before heading into the living room.

Rami takes a few moments to collect himself before heading into the living room himself, walking in with a bellowed,”Ho! Ho! Ho!”

The kids all begin shrieking with excitement, eyeing the big red bag that Rami had in his hands as the adults are trying and failing miserably to contain their laughter at the sight of Rami’s skinny ass dressed in a Santa suit that is too big for his lithe frame.

Chaos ensued as the kids were excitedly crowding Rami, trying eagerly to get at his red bag that held what they assumed were all the goodies that they wanted. Watching Rami verses several children was hilarious, as he struggled to bring order to the excited shrieks and shouts from the kids. Fortunately one of Rami’s cousins steps in to keep him from being trampled by the kids as she instructs them all to take a seat in front of the tree, and to sit quietly to which they all quickly complied, even though they were all still squirming.

The moment was so pure that you couldn’t help it, you find your phone and load the camera before snapping a few pictures. Several other family members were doing the same thing all wearing goofy, happy smiles.

“Well kiddos, I’ve heard that you’ve all been good this year, so Rami-Claus is here to deliver some presents early on behalf of the big guy!”

Several of the adults snorted at his use of the ‘Rami-Claus’ and you leaned into Sami’s shoulder, “Did he seriously just call himself Rami-Claus?”

Sami just smiled as he nudged your shoulder trying to hold back the laughter himself. You couldn’t help but beam at your husband as he somehow managed the gift giving portion of the night. It seemed as if the kids were never going to calm down after this, as things temporarily became a flurry of activity, with kids shrieking and shouting, running around to show their parents their new gifts.

You spot Rami sitting on the floor next to your three year old daughter Layla helping her to unpackage whatever new toy she had received. When Rami gave you the list he didn’t specify what was for who so you had no idea. He insisted on wrapping and tagging everything himself.

“Momma look!” your seven year old son Said shouted as he made his way over to you clutching a bright yellow looking box to his chest.

“Hey Bubba, what did you get from Daddy?”

“I got more Legos! I think La got a new doll or something boring. She was really excited about it though she doesn’t really need any new dolls she already has a million of them.”

You chuckled and ruffled his wild hair as you responded,”You don’t need more Legos either kiddo, don’t you already have a million of them?”

He just laughed at you as he flounced away towards one of his cousins, probably trying to coax them into building with the Legos.

Rami eventually made his way back to you holding your three year old, as she tightly clutched onto her new doll. Leaning over you gave him a quick kiss before taking her out of his arms as he turned to talk to his brother about something.

“Hey La, what have you got there?”

“I got a new baby just like the one you told Auntie Lindsey on the phone that you were gonna have” she said matter of factly, as you set her on the ground.

Rami stopped mid-conversation with his brother, obviously having heard your three year old’s statement. He looked shocked and confused.

“What is she talking about YN?”

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment of having been put on the spot as you let out a little nervous laugh.

“I guess our La pays more attention to my phone conversations than I thought she did. She was playing and I didn’t think she heard me. But,ummm..Damn.. Well it was supposed to be a surprise for tomorrow but umm.. Yeah, we’re pregnant again. Merry Christmas my love.”

His face broke out into a bright smile as he wrapped you in his arms and planted a loud kiss on your mouth.

“Ewwwwwwwwwww” you heard Said whine from wherever he was playing.

Since your daughter had decided to ruin your big surprise for tomorrow, and in front of Rami’s entire family no less. About an hour later, most of the family had left and those that were still around helped to tidy up. The kids that were still here, were sitting with yours on the couch watching The Grinch on tv.

His brother decided to take off, but before he left he off-handedly made the comment about how he bets that this time you two will have twins, before giving you both a smile and shutting the front door behind him.

“I swear to God Rami, if your brother just jinxed us I’m going to kick his ass!”

Your husband sure does love to laugh because that’s what he did, he laughed. You just shake your head and walked away trying to round up your children for a quick late night bath before bed. What you found instead though was both of them snuggled on the couch, covered in Layla’s favorite queen sized blanket, fast asleep. Rami was right behind you, and you heard a little camera click.

“Who do you want to take?” you asked him.

“I’ll grab Said, you grab Layla.” and then meet me in the garage so that we can get all of the gifts out of there and under the tree.

“Deal. I’ll meet you down here in five.”

You both gently unwrapped the kids, as he lifted Said into his arms with a soft grunt. Your son was growing like a weed, and he was definitely getting heavy. Grabbing Layla, and gently lifting her into your arms and wrapping her up in her blanket you get them settled in bed fairly quickly.

Meeting Rami in the garage as agreed upon, you both set to work laying out all the gifts and the stockings. After all was situated you started turning off the lights downstairs. Rami was right behind you and just when you were about to take your first step onto the stairs you felt his arms snake around your waist.

“Wait.” he said, as he pulled your body close to his. “We haven’t done our Christmas thing yet. I know you are tired and we both should probably get to sleep, but I just can’t yet. It’s tradition, our tradition and I don’t want to miss it this year.”

You had completely forgotten about you Christmas tradition, you really were tired. Prepping and hosting the Malek clan was always an event that left you exhausted. His family was always helpful though, and whenever they showed up everyone was always willing to roll up their sleeves to help assist in whatever was left that needed to be done.

He pulled you into the living room, and you stood together for a few moments before he spoke.

“I know that talking about being thankful and grateful is something that is done around Thanksgiving traditionally, but we’ve always done this. Do you remember our first Christmas living together?”

You laugh into his chest as you nod your head.

You had reluctantly agreed to host some of his family at your place, which at the time was still quite small, and in your attempts to go all out you ended up having a full on mental breakdown in the middle of your kitchen.

You had burned a couple of pies, because your timing had been just a little off, and you accidentally dropped the bowl of mashed potatoes onto the floor which shattered the bowl and sent potatoes everywhere.

Standing in the middle of the mashed potatoes mess, your were sobbing and trying to clean up the mess while Rami attempted to soothe you. His mom stepped in and gave you a big hug. She told you that it was going to be okay. That sometimes one just has to roll with the punches, especially around the holidays, and that no one would care if all there was to eat was some Chinese takeout.

You kept repeating that you could still pull off some part of the holiday meal in between sobs, but Rami just took you into his arms and guided you out of the kitchen into the living room, while his mom cleaned up the potatoes. He made you talk about the things that you are grateful for and in an attempt to be funny your first response was, “Your mom.”

He laughed hysterically for a solid fifteen minutes before he responded with,”Me too. I’m also grateful for you. You tried your hardest to do this for my family, to make a good impression, and trust me you still will. Noone will care about the food I promise. You should have my mom tell you about the small fire that happened one year that ruined a huge majority of dinner. I love you and am so grateful that you are apart of my life. I honestly can’t envision my life without you in it. I want to make you my wife so that we can have moments like these forever. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Forever. Just you and me and maybe eventually a few kids.”

You stopped crying from where your head had been buried in his chest as you looked up at him and questioned,”Did you just ask me to marry you?”

“I did. You don’t have to give me an answer right away, I wanted to do it in a way that was far more special that this, but if you’ll have me, will you Y/F/N Y/L/N marry me?”

“Yes!!!” you screamed as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling his body close to yours as your lips found his, you were aware that his mother very present, so you did keep the kiss semi-chaste.

“So my love, what are you grateful for?”

“The same thing that I always am,”Your mom. And you and the kids.”

“Me too. I’m also grateful for all of the opportunities that we’ve had this year. Yes, my workload has been crazy and I’m grateful for the fact that you have been by my side through all of it. Your hard work and dedication to our family sometimes is underappreciated. I just want you to know how much I love and appreciate the things that you do for all of us. The sacrifices you’ve made for all of us, and I know I don’t say it often enough, but I truly love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. You are the best wife, partner, mother, and the best friend that any man could ever ask for.”

The tears welled up in your eyes, and before you knew you were full on crying. He just pulls you close to him before he gently runs his fingers through your hair.

“Shhhh.. It’s alright love. Please don’t cry. I love you. I know that you gave up a lot for me, to be there for me. You worked hard for us, especially in the beginning when I was auditioning a lot and getting nothing. You were there. You worked as many hours as it took to pay the bills just so that I could focus more on trying to land a decent paying job. My love, you never blinked when I left for Argentina, you just understood my reasoning for needing to go. You just,you took it all in stride and you never wavered in your faith of me. I am so proud of all you’ve done, and because of your support and look at us now. I finally got us somewhere. My dream became a reality but it was only that way because of you! You! The one that has given her everything to make sure that I had what I needed.” he whispers as his hands gently rub your back.

“You really believe that Rami? I think you got to where you are because you have the talent to back yourself up. Anyone that says otherwise obviously doesn’t recognize talent when they see it and that makes them stupid.”

You could feel his chest vibrate with his laughter. For a minute you couldn’t figure out why he was laughing until you thought back, what you had just said was very reminiscent of some of the things that you used to tell him after he didn’t get a role.

“I love you Rami, and I’d always do anything for you. Whatever you need or want me to be, that’s who I’ll be.”

“Baby, I don’t need you to be anything but who you are. The beautiful woman I met all those years ago, that I married, that gave me my children. You. That’s all I’ll ever need. Except right now, I do need something from you?”

“What is it?”

“I need a kiss. I’m still wearing this ridiculous costume, and we never got to finish what we started earlier, so I’d like a kiss, if you have one or two to spare.”

You didn’t have to think twice, you just shake your head and then launched yourself at him. It took him by surprise but you held you both in place as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Your lips crashing into his as your hands settle on the back of his neck.

The kiss deepened as you both let out little hums of pleasure, your hips involuntarily grinding against his body. You barely registered that he had begun walking with your lips still locked, as you ended up on the couch.

His body weight on top of yours a comforting feeling, as his hands slide their way up your legs and under your dress. He pulled your thighs apart and began to thumb your clit over your panties, which elicited a low moan from you.

“You’re soaked.”

“Always are for your my love.”

Your fingers found their way to the waistband of his pants, where after some interesting fumbling, you managed to find the belt that was holding his ridiculously too large pants in place. You got his belt loose and that pants just slide their way down his hips, and thighs before pooling at his knees.

You lift your hips for him as he slides your panties down before he takes himself in hand and guides himself to your entrance. With a whine you buck your hips into his as he slides himself into you.

“God baby. Always so tight for me.” he moans out, ocean colored eyes locked with yours.

He begins to move slowly at first but after some encouragement from you he begins to move his hips at a much more rapid pace. Neither of you really wanting to take your time.

Your breathing ragged now, as the sweat is pouring from both of your bodies, a bead of sweat dripping off the tip of his nose. The sound of skin on skin and your moans filling the air.

“I’m-oh baby-yes-please-please-don’t stop-feels so good” you stutter out as you claw at his still clothed back

“Rami-God-yes-yes-yes-so close already-Rami I’m gonna-”

His mouth found yours at the right moment, because just as his lips collided with yours your walls clenched around him and you let a scream that may have sounded something like his name.

This time it was his turn as he simply starts mumbling out,”I'm gonna-I’m cumming!”His abs clenching and his whole body tightened, and he came hard, cock twitching inside of you as he painted your walls with his seed.

His body falling on top of yours, with your chests still heaving, as he lazily planted kisses on your face, jaw, and neck. Both of you were content to lay there like this all night until you hear a small voice.

“Santa? Why are you kissing my mommy?”

Both of you startled looked up to see your seven year old son standing at the entrance to the living room looking sleepy and confused.

Rami muttered a quiet,”Fuck,” as you let out a small laugh.

“Said baby, it’s just your daddy giving mommy some kisses is all. We came downstairs to see if Santa had come yet, and he did, so we just decided to have a cuddle on the couch. Can you go back to bed and I’ll be up in a minute to tuck you back in okay?”

“Okay.” he said as he headed back to bed.

“Shit how much of that do you think he saw?” Rami questioned.

“I don’t think he saw anything, but I should probably go upstairs and tuck him back in before he comes back down here.” you laugh, as you pull your panties back up and smooth your dress down over your hips.

“I’ll meet you in the bedroom in a few? If you’ve got anything else left we might be able to get another round in before we have to knock out for the night. You know those two will be up at five and there is no going back back from there.” you state as you lean in to give him another kiss.

“I swear those two aren’t really ours because neither of us are morning people so how did we end up with two kids that are always up so damn early?”

You just laughed again, you were always laughing with him, and shrugged,”Maybe they are secretly your brothers.”

He just gasped in mock horror, since he knew you were only teasing, and chased after you holding his pants up with one hand just so he could playfully smack your ass.

“That was a naughty thing to say YN, do you secretly have a thing for my brother?” he asks, eyes crinkled with the smile he was wearing. He knows you jest but he can’t help it. Maybe a part of him was actually jealous even though he knew he never needed to be.

“Maybeeeee, I mean it’s hard not too, you both look sooooo much alike. Maybe I got a little confused once or twice.” you tease.

He gasped again before following you up the stairs trying not to trip over his pants.

“Your ass is gonna pay for that. Maybe I need to remind you just who you belong to?”

Keeping the teasing going you quietly say,”Sami.”

He smacks your ass again, and say with a smirk,”Nope. Try again.”

Reaching the top of the stairs he pulls you close to him again, his face buried in your neck as he breathes you in. “I love you but you’re in some trouble YN, and you need to be punished. Daddy is waiting. I’m going to give you a very good reminder of who exactly you belong to so you won’t ever forget it.”

You brows shot nearly into your hairline as you giggled, wiggled your ass against his crotch and pulled away sprinting towards your son’s room. Just before you opened his bedroom door you turned around to look at Rami and said,”Can’t wait, because you need to prove it, Daddy.”

The look on his face was priceless, he was going into dominant lover mode, and you just issued a challenge to that primal part of him. His eyes darkened and his face set, and it took everything he had to not claim you right then and there. You shot him a wide smile and then opened the door and entered your son’s room to tuck him back in as promised.

Part Two of Santa’s Cumming

@r-ahh-mi @xmxisxforxmaybe @ramimedley @txmel @hissom1933 @mister-owls-cupcake @free-rami @mezzomercury @safinsscar @spacedustmazzello @itslula1991 @youthea @ladyr0b0t @sassystrawberryk @itsme690 @mrhoemazzello

#Rami Malek #Rami Malek Fluff #Rami Malek Smut #Dad!Rami #Rami Malek Christmas fluff #Rami Malek Fanfiction

58 notes · View notes

everlastingdreams · 5 years

Text

Matthew Murdock x Reader : Love Is Blind

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Notes: I once had this idea back in 2016 (yikes) and today I wrote it down. I even send this thing in to a popular imagine blog back then.

Summary: Reader is invited to her aunt’s yearly christmas party and she asks Matt to pretend to be her boyfriend for the evening to avoid her evil cousins making fun of her even more.

Word Count: 3126 words

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The last few weeks you had dreaded opening your mailbox and taking calls. You knew the moment would come, as it does every year. One morning you went to get your daily post and found an envelope. You recognised the handwriting immediately and your heart sank. This was it, the invitation. Every year your aunt would invite you to her yearly christmas party. And every year, you hated it. It wasn't your aunt's fault, your cousins however were a different thing. They were like the cruel step sisters in Cinderella. In short, they were bullies. Mean to anyone who they believed to be unworthy. You opened the envelope to find a beautiful white card decorated with glitter. Your aunt had good taste when it came to these things, she had even used a stamp with kittens on it. As you read the card you realised your mistake. She was not just inviting you, but also the boyfriend you had mentioned once on the phone to her. You had broken up with said boyfriend a while ago. "Great" you sighed. Now your cousins would certainly make your evening a nightmare. You used to hang out with them when you were younger, but you realised soon that all they did was bring you down. The last straw was one of them seducing your then boyfriend. It made you feel so bad that you have felt insecure since then. You knew they were pretty, everyone knew and so did they. You didn't stand a chance against them when it came to men. You really didn't want them to know that you were still single. And then you decided to do something risky. You found yourself standing in front of the door of Matt's apartment. You had been friends for 2 years now, and you were about to ask him a big favor. There was the possibility of him refusing or even laughing at your question, but anything was better then facing those evil brats alone. You knew Matt's hightened senses would have alerted him to you being there so you knocked. The door opened almost right away. " (y/n). Hi, I wasn't expecting you. You wanna come in ?" He motioned for you to step inside. You were nervous on how to ask this thing "Hi, Matt. Sorry I didn't call before coming here." He closed the door once you were inside "Don't worry about it. It's good to see you." He smiled at you "Do you want something to drink." "You got any beer ?" You blurted out and he seemed a bit suprised. "Wow. Sure, I didn't take you for an early drinker." He walked to his fridge to grab a bottle. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just a bit stressed today." You walked around the room a bit, hoping to calm your nerves. He opened the bottle of beer and handed it to you "Something I can help with?" He sounded worried. You fumbled with the bottle for a bit before taking a sip "About that...that's actually why i'm here." He walked over to you "I had a feeling there was something." "You mean you heard my heart playing like a drummer?" He let out a chuckle and nodded "Well, yeah. Tell me, (y/n). What's this about?" Your fingers were tapping on the bottle "My aunt...uh.. she holds this big party every christmas eve. And she expects me to be there of course. Only this year she expects me to bring someone along." He had a confused expression " (y/n), I don't really understa-" "I am asking you to accompany me to the party." You blurted it out before you would be too scared to ask. His brows shot up "So, you're asking me out ?" He stammered. You waved your hand "No, not exactly...”

“You want me to be your chaperone then ?” his voice wary.

You bit your lip, this was getting really awkward “I'm asking you to pretend to be my boyfriend for the evening." "Oh." He tilted his head "I feel honored that you are asking me, but why exactly do you need a 'fake' boyfriend ?" He was holding in a laugh. You rubbed you arm "I kind of forgot to tell them I broke up with my last boyfriend and now they want me to bring him to the party." “Auwtch.” he cringed “ Why don't you tell your aunt now?”

You took another sip of the beer “ It's complicated. But please, Matt, please help me out. This is very important to me and I'll owe you one, Please ?” you pleaded.

He let his hands rest on his sides and let out a breath “Alright. I'll do it.”

You nearly jumped from excitement when he agreed to accompany you “Thank you so, so much, Matt.” You took three steps before you hugged him. “You just saved me.”

He put a hand on your back and patted “You're very welcome, (y/n).”

You let go off him and headed to the door “I'll call you soon to give you the details and time. Okay?”

“Sounds good.” he chuckled. “See you soon, (y/n).”

You waved, knowing that he would sense it before you left his apartment.

That went better than expected, at least you wouldn't have to show up at the party alone now.

The day of the party had come and you were putting on the dress you had spent hours looking for in the many stores that you had visited. The dress wasn't cheap, this time you wanted to dress to impress. You wondered how your cousins would react to you arriving with Matt.

Even they would realise Matt was handsome, the thought of him being your company for the evening made you smile.

You brushed your hands over your dress, smoothing it out while looking in the mirror one last time.

You took a cab to your aunt's place, and made the cab stop around the corner where Matt was waiting for you. You tipped the driver and got out.

Matt had dressed up for the occasion, wearing a tuxedo and bow tie.

“Bow tie, huh ?” you said as you walked to him.

He touched the bow tie for a moment “ What ? Don't tell me I don't look good with it. I know you would be lying.”

“Alright, smartass. So, you ready for this?” you clapped your hands together.

He gave a quick nod and turned his cane between his fingers “I am. You ?” he asked you as you took hold of his arm.

“Not really, but duty calls.” you stated.

He laughed at your remark “Come on, how bad can it be ?”

“You have no idea..” you murmured.

“What do we tell them if they ask how we met? I don't think we can tell them that you hit me in the head because you thought I was a burglar.” his sarcasm was evident.

You rolled your eyes “First of all, that's what you get for climbing through people's windows in the middle of the night. Second, we will tell them we met at Josie's bar.”

“Got it. And you and I both know I climbed through your window to safe your life from the real burglar.” he corrected you.

“I know, I know. And once again, thank you for saving my life.” you were almost at your aunt's house.

“I am glad I did. Even if you hit me.”

You groaned “Can we just drop that subject, Matt ?”

He laughed and put his hand on your arm as you guided him.

You were in front of the door of your aunt's residence, feeling yourself panic.

“(y/n).” Matt squeezed your arm a bit “Breath.”

With that you drew a deep breath and exhaled. You couldn't back out now.

You rang the doorbell, you were holding on to Matt tightly.

The door went open and you were met by the wide smile your aunt was displaying on her face.

“(y/n) !!!! I am so glad you are here !!!” she held out her arms for a hug and you hugged her.

“Look at you, you've grown !” she beamed.

You shook your head and let out a chuckle “Auntie, you say that every year. And every year I stay the same height.”

She looked at Matt now “Oh my, who is this ?” she gave you a meaningful look.

“Oh, this is-” you started.

Matt held out his hand to her “Matthew Murdock, but please, call me Matt.” his voice smooth and he gave your aunt a smile that looked like he was posing for a magazine.

She seemed to be startled a bit as she took his hand to shake it.

“Well, I am glad you decided to join us this evening, Matt. (y/n) tends to be very discreet about her relationships so I am glad to see that she has indeed good taste. Like me, for example.” she claps her hands together “Aw just look at you two, so young and so in love. It reminds me of me and your uncle when we were young.”

Tears were welling up in your aunt's eyes as she spoke and reminisced about the past. Part of you felt guilty for lying now. But your aunt seemed to be so happy to see you, to see Matt.

“Oh lord, what am I doing, please come inside!” she held the door open so you and Matt could walk inside. “The party is in the garden, I thought it would be better as there are more people then last year.”

“Good thinking, auntie.” you told her as you and Matt made your way to the garden. Your mouth fell open when you stepped into the garden “Wow.” you breathed.

Your aunt had spared no expense this time, there was a large white tent in the middle of the garden that was covering the tables.

There were fairylights all over the tent and the garden. It was beautiful.

“What does it look like ?” Matt asked you and you realise he couldn't actually see it the way you saw it.

“Like a fairytale. There are small soft lights everywhere, and loads of christmas ornaments placed around the garden.” you told him as you walked to the people in the garden.

“Your aunt has good taste in food.” he stated and you looked at him confused before it dawned on you.

“Already after my aunt's apple pie, huh?” you nudged him.

The smile was wiped off your face quickly as you saw your cousins approach the both of you.

Their eyes fell on Matt for a little too long to not be obvious “Well, look who's here. (y/n), love the dress, the color is a bit last season though.” she said.

“But we know you don't keep up with fashion, bless your heart.” the other chimed in.

You swallowed when you heard their remarks “Good to see you guys too.” you feigned a smile.

“Aren't you going to introduce us to your friend ?” they were both eyeing up Matt at this point.

You shook your head “Of course, this is Matt. My.. boyfriend.” saying it felt... odd.

They stared at you in disbelieve “Your boyfriend ?” one of them asked.

“That's correct.” Matt now held out his hand to them “I'm (y/n)'s boyfriend. Pleased to meet you.” you noticed the tone of Matt's voice had changed.

They both shook his hand a little too long, and you started to feel irritated.

“Attention everyone !!!!” you heard your aunt's voice “Please make your way over to the tables, dinner is being served.”

“I guess we will be getting to know each other better over dinner then.” your cousin said to Matt and both your cousins were giggling as they walked away.

At this point you already wanted to leave this party, but you didn't want to disappoint your aunt, knowing how much work she must have put into all of this.

“I'm starting to understand why you asked me to come with you.” Matt said as you walked with him to the tables.

You didn't answer, you were too upset already. Somehow seeing your cousins flirt with Matt like that made you feel miserable. Old memories of them taking away all the boys you once had a crush on were resurfacing. Why was this bothering you so much ? Matt was your friend, it's not like he was really your boyfriend. This was as close to a relationship you would ever get with Matt, a pathetic lie.

Not like you stood a chance against any of your cousins now that they had aimed their arrows on him.

You leaded Matt to a place at the table that wasn't too close to your cousins, yet still close enough to hear them sadly.

Matt stopped you by holding your arm and pulled the chair from the table for you.

“Thank you.” you sat down. He folded up his cane and took place next to you.

“Is your aunt's apple pie as good as it smells ?” his mood was merry. The opposite of your own.

You shrugged your shoulders “It is.”

You sat in silence, making circles in your soup with the spoon. You had lost your appetite quicker than last year.

Matt tried to make some small talk with your uncle who was sitting next to him, often trying to get you to join the conversation. His attempts were in vain.

The table was filled with people talking about different topics and at one point it got a bit quieter and that's when you heard it.

Your cousins were clearly gossiping about you, at first you tried to ignore it, as you had always done. But then you heard it.

“She can only get a guy if he's blind.” one of them said.

It felt as if the air was punched out of you. You bit the inside of your cheek, and put the spoon you were holding down.

Matt had tilted his head to the side.

You shoved the chair you were sitting on back, you had to get away from everyone as you felt yourself starting to shake.

“(y/n)...” Matt's hand was on yours instantly.

“I'm... I'm just going to the bathroom. I'll be right back.” your voice was wobbly when you spoke.

He let go off your hand, he didn't seem pleased.

You got up from the table and made your way inside the house, you closed the door and were standing in the kitchen now.

The tears you were trying to fight were now falling and you tried to control you sobbing. You walked further in the house, hoping the noise of the party would fade-out the noise of you crying.

You sat down on the steps of the stairs in the house as you tried to control yourself.

The way your cousins had said it hit you hard. The worst part is, they were right. None of the other guys you had once shown interest in had chosen you. None of them. They always choose one of your cousins.

And you hated to think it, but what if Matt had not been blind ?

Would he be like the others and forget about you ?

You let your head fall in your hands and focused on your breathing.

The sound of footsteps almost made you jump, you looked and saw Matt approaching.

Great. Could this evening get any worse ?

“Sometimes I wish you didn't have such a good sense of hearing.” your voice was weak as you spoke.

He walked to you “Sometimes I wish that too. Especially when I hear you cry.”

You wiped your tears away with your hand “I'll be fine, Matt. You should go back to the party, I dragged you here after all.”

He was leaning against the stairs now “You didn't drag me here, (y/n). I wanted to come.”

“You must think I'm pathetic. Making my family believe I actually have a boyfriend.” you scoffed.

“No, (y/n)..” he sighed “I heard what they said back there, about you.” he came to sit next to you on the steps and put a hand on your back.

You burried your head in your hands, you wished he hadn't heard that.

“They are right, Matt.” your voice was wobbly again.

He chuckled lightly “I am pretty sure they are not.”

You groaned “No, Matt. You don't understand.” you shook your head “Every guy I ever dated, every guy I have been remotely interested in, every one of them all chose my cousins over me. And it won't be long before-” you stopped before the words could roll from your mouth.

He noticed your sudden silence “....before what ?”

You breathed in and closed your eyes “Before you choose one of them too and forget all about me.”

Matt fumbled with the cane in his hand before he directed himself to you “You think I will choose someone else over you ?”

His choice of words was odd and it grabbed your attention as you looked at him. You could only nod.

“Permission to speak freely ?” he leaned to you.

You nodded again.

“I'd rather be deaf too than date your cousins, (y/n). Sitting at the table with them was enough.” he smiled at you widely “And... don't take this the wrong way but..”

“Oh god, it never ends well when you start a sentence like that.” you interupted him.

He chuckled and continued “But.. I am glad those other guys choose your cousins.”

You furrowed your brows “Excuse me?”

“No wait..” he held up his hand in defeat, noticing his mistake “I am glad they did. Because if they hadn't, I wouldn't be sitting here with you now. You would be here with some other lucky guy.”

You looked at him as you realised what he was saying.

“What I'm trying to say, in a pretty poor way, is that I wish I was here with you but not as your fake boyfriend.”

“As what then ?” you prayed he was trying to tell you what you thought he was trying to tell you.

“How about next year, we go to your aunt's party, but I'll be your boyfriend for real ?”

“Is this your smooth way of asking me to be your girlfriend, Matt ?” you felt like your heart was going to burst.

“I am doing this poorly, aren't I ?”

You laughed lightly “Why wait 'till next year ?”

A smile spread on both your faces “Good question.” his finger lifted up your chin and his lips brushed yours. “I guess that's a 'yes' then?” he smirked against your lips.

You nodded and he kissed you again.

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mightyfineblog · 5 years

Text

Christmas Roger Taylor/Ben Hardy x Reader

‘Santa Baby’

This is a Christmas special one-shot imagine.

Summary: Roger x Female Reader’s first Christmas as a couple. He’s been away for long, and you both missed each other much. A few delightful days spend together in the Christmas of 1974.

Mood: Earhta Kitt - ‘Santa Baby’

Words: 3K

SMUT, fluff, teasing, language, anticipation

Enjoy:

In the windy December of 1974, London wasn’t the nicest place on earth. Snow and rain were howling on the streets, the sky was grey. Fireplace blasting, the cracking of the wood whispering Christmas. You were snuggling on the sofa with your warmest blanket, drifting to sleep.

Queen had just released their third album and were touring since October. Three painful months without Roger. Sure, you talked often, accommodating each other over the phone. Still, the distance is agonising.

“How many more shows do you have left?” trying not to sound discouraging you tangle the cord between your fingers.

“We’re only halfway through the world.” Deep breath “Buuut..” he teases. “I might have some good news” he teases, waiting for your response.

“Listening”

“Oi, Rog, you done with the phone? We gotta make some calls too” you hear Brian anxiously shouting from the receiver. He chuckles.

“So? What is it?” you eagerly ask.

“I’ll be home this Christmas” his low and soft voice, healed your soul.

You cry enthusiastically “Jesus Christ! I can’t wait to put my hands on you, to feel your lips on mine, to touch your hair and to…”

“Whoa, whoa, baby, calm down” he laughs, “Let’s finish this later, when I get to the hotel, okay?”

You tremble “Can’t wait to have you back home”

“Me too, petal. Just the two of us… After two weeks, all of us are coming to London, to spend Christmas and New Year’s Eve.”

“Can’t wait! Will be waiting for youu...” you pout girly.

“You sure will. I gotta go, but I’ll call you later. Bye darling, love ya.”

“Of course you are. Love ya too.”

Two weeks have passed and you have only a few days until Christmas day to prepare everything. You hung mistletoe everywhere you saw fit.

Then carefully crafted some Christmas crackers. Since it was going to be just you two for Christmas dinner, you wanted it to be special.

It is the morning of Christmas Eve, you energetically jump off the bed and start running some house work. You put a holiday record and dance your way around the house, counting the minutes until Roger arrives, as you put the food in the oven. The fireplace is cracking, the music is nice and cheerful, you had your jumper on. You mother was kind enough to knit matching Christmas jumpers for both of you. You spread his on the bed, running a hand across it, gently smiling by the thought of Roger’s body beneath it.

Then you hear it! Somebody’s on the door. You light up and run to open.

“There’s my baby” Roger’s inviting hands reach out.

“Roger!” you jump onto him, legs wrapped around his waist. You place kisses all over his face.

“So eager, I should be away more often then.” He lifts a brow.

“Shut up!” you give him a gentle punch on the shoulder. Then you nuzzle your head in his neck inhaling deeply.

“As much as I love snogging on the doorstep” He carries a step inside.

“Hold on. Look up” You smile. “Ahh, my thoughtful petal” He says looking at the mistletoe above you.

He then gives you a soft and warm kiss.

Stepping inside he lets you down to take off his coat and shoes.

“House looks lovely; you did a good job” he praises

“You like it?”

“Not more than I admire you. Now, turn around, close your eyes.” he commands you softly. You comply, but peek though one eyelid. “No cheating” he scoffs, you shake and patiently wait.

Then you feel something stone cold sliding around your neck and suddenly shiver, goosebumps all over your body. Then a finger tugging at the neckline at your jumper pulling it off to the side slightly, followed by a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

“May I see now?” you are eager.

“Just a sec, darling”. “Now keep your eyes closed and do as I say, can you do that?”

You nod impatiently. He holds your hands and carefully guides you across the flat, to a full size mirror in the bedroom. There he stands behind you, arms around your waist and chin resting on your bare shoulder. He whispers “You may open now.”

You flicker your eyelashes and awe at the sight of a sparkling gemstone necklace hanging around your neck. Eyes draw between it and Roger’s in the mirror.

“It is amazing!” you cannot believe. “Must’ve cost you a fortune, baby” you turn to him. He admires your sight “For the love of my life, I give everything. Even my life, if I have to”.

“But Roger, I don’t need materialistic proof of your love”.

He cups your face close to his “All I want is to make you happy, in every way known to man. Plus, I got a pretty good deal for it, from a merchant in the commonwealth.”

He turns you facing the mirror again “See, it used to belong to an imperatrice, who had to sell it to reunite with the love of her life”. “Thought of you, how it would sit perfectly on your decollete.”

You bury your hands in his neck and give him a sweet kiss. “Christ, you make me feel things”

“I’ll take it as a thank you”

Friday 25, 1974. 11:55 am

You wake up by the phone ringing. Dragging yourself out of bed to pick up. After a few minutes you are screaming and running back to bed, jumping on top of Roger. “Babe. Babe. Babe wake up!”. “What the bloody hell” he murmurs. “Its Christmas day, we’re so late for my mums!”

“Can’t we stay in bed, and skip it…” he says through closed eyes, a hand holding your thigh tight.

“No, we’re going, get up, quickly” You peck his lips.

“Fine, I’m awake. You go, get ready, babe” he grunts.

After a brief 20 min. You are both dressed up and he is still murmuring about it.

“Babe, I’ll go get the car ready, while you finish, whatever you’re doing” you experimentally speak at him. He is frozen “Oh no baby no, no, don’t you worry ‘bout it, I got this”

You laughed and lift your hands in the air to him “I know better than to touch your precious car”.

After a while he is speeding up nervously on the road. “Roger, calm down, it’s okay, just a lunch with my parents, we’ll open some crackers and drink some punch, well I’m drinking, you are on juice. I’m dying to see you in a paper crown, I feel green is your colour” you wink at him.

“You father is intimidating, I don’t know if he hates me, or the fact I play in a band” He growls, you laugh.

During lunch he relaxes and seems to have gained some courage. He slips a hand under the table. Firstly, lays it on your knee, you don’t react. Then slowly craws up to the inside of your thigh, you question his eyes. He only smirks and continues his conversations. His hand is already at your knickers, stroking up and down painfully slowly, when you squeak in surprise to his courage.

You clench your knees together, giving him an evil side eye. “Everything alright, love?” he checks on you, “Enjoying this lunch a bit too much, don’t we?” You purr at him.

He goes further and tugs aside your knickers, you feel yourself panting at this point. Completely shamelessly he presses a finger on your entrance, feeling your wetness.

“How is you band doing?” your father raises to him “heard you were world touring”

Roger pulls away his hand and places it on the table “Very well sir! Yes, in fact, we weren’t due to a break, but we all felt homesick” he smiles to your side, while you blush uncomfortably.

“Alright, bunny?” your dad frowns at the look of you.

“Yes, it’s just the punch, got me a bit dizzy” you laugh it.

Suddenly Roger’s hand returns, and with no warning starts drawing lines against your entrance. Your head falls on his shoulder whispering into his ear “Roger! Watch it” He pretends he didn’t hear a word and carried on.

He then starts pumping slowly in your pulsating core. “Let’s go upstairs” you breath to him, begging eyes. He cocks his head to the side “What’s got you so hot and bothered baby? Was is the punch?” He then quickens the pace. You buckle your knees, a knob starting to form in your stomach.

“Please, Roger, let’s just go. NOW!” you beg him. He pulls away just before you are able to reach your climax. Places his hand on the table and starts to lick his fingers, “The turkey is delicious, Mrs. Y/M/N.” You stare at his mouth, raging.

From this moment on everything goes rather smoothly, but Roger notices you growing frustrated. After lunch, during your auntie’s piano session, you drag Roger to your old room.

Shutting the door, you slam him against it and start kissing him passionately. Your hands travel all over his torso.

“Youu!” you start at him “So shamelessly” you click you tongue in disapproval “to do this to me, in front of my whole family.” You angrily stare at him. A sly smile.

You lick and suck at his jaw, and find his sweet spot where you keep longer, feeling him responding so well to your touch, tongue leaving wet traces.

“Y/N” He pulls you away, “I’m still scared by your father, pretty damn sure that riffle by his side is loaded” he shrugs uncomfortable for a sec, all confidence suddenly gone.

“But when you had me, right across the table from him, your hands were singing another song” you cock to the side.

“Now, come on me pretty boy, because the only gun I’m thinking of is yours, and I wanna see it loaded” you order him.

These words turn the wild in him as he pushes you back and pins you to the wall. Lifting you up and carrying to the desk, not breaking a kiss. He starts to go down to your jaw and neck. Tongue peeking out time to time, leaving wet traces along the way, until he concentrates on your sweet spot, which makes you close your eyes and throw your head back a little. Then you are startled by a knock on the door, you push away Roger and quickly stand up on your shake feet. Clearing your throat “Yes?”

“Darling, the dessert” your mum’s voice. “Coming right up”. You both giggle at how close this one was.

“Fuck, once we get home, baby, I swe” you shut him with a kiss and drag him downstairs.

Once back to your flat, you both lay lazily on the sofa until dinner time, when you realise you have to set the table and everything. You jump off to do so. On the table you lay a festive table cover, candles put a cracker for each of you and serve the food you had prepared. Then you dim the lights, put the Christmas record on to create a romantic atmosphere.

You two then sit beside the fireplace to dine. Roger brings a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon ’69. He pours you both. You then clap your hands “Cracker time”. You both pop each other’s crackers and start to unfold the paper crown. “Hmm, green” he smiles. “Told ya” you praise. After you both have your crowns on, and the stupid jokes go the fireplace, you enjoy your meal.

By desert time, you’re giggling from the wine.

He then stood up and told you to wait. You watch him carefully as he brings a few super fluffy blankets and a pillows and arranges them in front of the fire, cozying up the place.

You snuggle into him watching the fire crack for a while, until you remember how he teased you today, and decide it’s payback time. An evil grin on your face, you lean to kiss him. With your hand in his hair, you straddle him. Your tongue twirling a candy cane. ‘Santa Baby’ playing in the background, you sing along.

“Santa baby” innocent eyes. He chuckles.

“Been an awful good girl” eyes even sweeter, tongue licking the candy.

“Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight”

He steals a kiss from your lips, sucking their minty sweet taste.

You pull away and playfully slap his hand and continue:

“Think of all the fun I’ve missed” You lick the candy and lean for another kiss.

He decides to take the lead, taking a lick from your hand and sings:

“Been an angel all year

Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight” You keep seductively licking the candy. You take the note:

“Santa honey one thing I really do need, the deed”

Roger: “Santa cutie,

Come and trim my Christmas tree” he smirks suggestively.

You throw the candy away and lock lips. A hand slides under his jumper. You suck on his neck as you slowly massage his chest, hovering your fingers around his nipple. He moans a little and it excites you even more. Then you take off his jumper to appreciate his body. Both hands running up and down, wet kisses all the way to his abdomen, tracing his perfect V-line. Your mouth closing around his other nipple, as your hands play with his belt, when he yelps, pulling you away, and reaches to take off his belt, trousers and socks.

You push him back to lay on a pile of cushions. As you tease even more.

He grunts “Y/N, please” You smile, and bring your head to his shoulder, low sultry voice “ Agh, not so good, when it’s you on the other side, is it?” you bite lightly. His hands removing your jumper, eyes widen at the sight of your breasts, no bra.

He brings you forward, so he can bury his head between them and suck on each nipple hungrily. You throw your head back letting a moan.

Your hand travels to pat gently on his bulge, you feel his cock already hard and ready, underwear damp by some pre-come.

You start trailing his length and he groans into you. You pull away and move between his legs, pulling down his boxers. “My, my! We’re so ready to shoot” You bite a lip staring at his twitching cock. “Been hard for a while. You always make me hard super-fast” his needy voice.

“Glad” you note.

As you lay down beside him “Now, come over and tell me, how you want me”

He moves on top of your body and breaths your smell. “Your lips.. so luscious, they turn red so quickly. Love biting ‘em”

“Your neck, perfect fit for mine.” He moves down. “Your breasts, baby, I canna get enough of them, so soft, and your nipples, so pink and perky, wanna play with them all day…” he goes to suck each at a time, you moan his name quietly, making your core tense.

“But, fuck baby, most of all I love how you taste, all for me” he pulls your skirt and knickers away.

You spread your legs and he starts to kiss your inner thigh, eventually landing on your entrance. “So wet and ready” he notes, then without warning he starts swirling his tongue around your clit, collecting your juices.

“Baby, please” you plead. He smiles against you.

“Need you” you continue.

He pushes a finger, making you throw your head back, earning a deep moan. He starts pumping, while his tongue is eating you out.

“Fuck, Roger” you whine, “need ‘nother finger, babe” you demand. He adds second and keeps a steady pace. Your nails pulling his hair ever so hard when he hits the right spot.

Then he pulls away abruptly, making you scream with annoyed, frustrated look.

“Tell me what do you want”

“You”

“Well, of course you do baby. What do you want me to do?”

You whine.

“Need to hear you say it”

“I want your dick, deep inside my fucking pussy, pounding H A R D, and fast” you aren’t even ashamed to beg for it.

“That’s what I wanted to hear” he confirms, you nod in a need, he hovers over you and slides his length deep your pulsating pussy.

You let a whimper. His lips shush yours. He stays, giving you some time to adjust. “Move” you whisper in need.

He starts slamming against you, nice and slow at first.

“Fuck, Y/N! So tight baby” he gulps. You whisper his name like a prayer. Then slams harder, and again, and you tremble under him. A tear drops from the corner of your eye as your orgasm starts to build. A familiar burning feeling, a knob forming in your stomach.

“R-oger” you are out of breath. “So close”.

“Let go baby, come for me” He thrusts a few more times.

You cry out his name, your walls start to close around him. Your nails scratch his back. Hot and cold waves rush through your entire body. You are a hot mess right now. His name is the only prayer on your lips. It takes you a moment to come down from your high. You look for his eyes. He nods.

“Come Roger, come in my pussy, fill me up” you encourage.

He grunts and screams your name, hot liquid fills your walls, a warm feeling completing you.

He collapses on top of you and you bite on his shoulder. Both panting heavily. He rolls beside you. “Fuck Y/N” he swallows. You cuddle under his arm and whisper to his ear “Merry Christmas, darling”. He catches his breath “Merry Christmas, love. The best of my life”

“We’re gonna have many more to come, Taylor” you kiss his temple.

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tumbler-tidbits · 5 years

Text

Bunker Bunch Ch.8 - O’Brother

@spnfluffbingo2019 square filled:Family AU

@spnbromentbingo square filled: Asking for Advice

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: None, just Language- these are the Winchester’s after all. Maybe some angst if you squint, brotherly fluff.

Summary: In the wake of his wife’s surprise pregnancy, Dean gets some shocking news and looks to his little brother for advice.

A/N: the scene with the ultrasound has some lines from one of my favorite movies called “The Back-up Plan” I’m just borrowing them for fun. This chapter is Dean’s POV.

Catch up on the series HERE

Everything is NOT gonna be ok!

Y/N is pregnant.

Don’t get me wrong, that I’m thrilled about!

But today at the doctor he told us she’s having twins! Two. There’s two kids in there! Omg I’m totally freaking out... but I can’t tell my wife that- she’s freaking out enough on her own! What the hell am I gonna do?

Earlier that day

“Dean are you ready to go to our ultrasound?” Y/N calls out from the hall. She’s nearly 3 months pregnant and today we get to see a picture with one of those sona-somethings. I’m actually really excited.

“Yeah babe” I reply “just grabbin the keys” I meet her in the Hall with a quick kiss and we walk to the garage, load up in baby (my first baby) and head on our way.

Once we arrive, Y/N checks us in and we wait for a bit, chatting idly about nothing in particular. The nurse finally calls us back and does all the normal check up stuff; height, weight, blood pressure, bloodwork. Ugh... needles. Anyway the doctor comes in and squirts some gel on Y/N’s belly and we patiently wait... it’s time to see my baby!

A sudden swooshing sound fills the room and we look at each other,

“Huh” the doc says curiously, and when he doesn’t say anything else I have to ask,

“Huh?... What huh?” I say concerned.

“Oh, there’s another heartbeat” he says nonchalantly.

“IT HAS TWO HEARTS?” I yell panicked. What the hell does this mean and what do I have to do to fix it!? In a split second the doc yells back,

“NO BUT YOU HAVE TWO BABIES!....congratulations, your having twins!”

I heard Y/N say “Oh my God” and I don’t remember much after that.

I’m super excited to be a dad, but if I’m being totally honest with myself I’m also terrified. I grew up on the road knowing about all the nightmares that lurked in the dark. I didn’t get a childhood, how am I going to provide one for someone? Let alone TWO someone’s! I...what....how?

“SONOVABITCH” I bite out under my breath. My heart is racing, head pounding, ears ringing... I feel like I was just thrown headfirst into a wall by a Demon.

I wipe my face with my hand and take a deep breath. I gotta calm myself down... get my head in the game. Think. Who can Help....SAM! Sam’s a dad, I’ll talk to Sam.

“Hey Sammy” I greet my little brother. Of course the geek boy is in the library reading. My oldest nephew JD is there too though we call him Shaggy on account of his hair, looking every bit like the little Sammy that used to follow me around. His head is buried in a book while sitting next to his father.

“Hey Dean. How ya holdin up?” Sam asks, giving me a knowing look.

“Good. Good. I’m good Sam.” I stutter trying to keep my voice even.

“Right” he says, “Shaggy, buddy go find mom and Auntie Y/N see if they need any help with dinner”.

My nephew dashes out with an “ok daddy” and I take his seat.

“So twins huh?” Sam says, trying to start a conversation,

“Yeah, that’s what the doc says”

“So what are you thinking"

“I’m thinking how bad I’m gonna screw up 2 kids now instead of one!” I say

“Dean, your not gonna screw up...” Sam starts but I cut him off leaping from my chair to pace,

“How do you know Sam?! I don’t know anything about kids! How am I gonna be responsible for 2 little people?!” I’m near shouting now but I can’t help it, I’m totally freaking out!

“Dean.” I turn to look at my Sasquatch of a little brother, “you done?” he asks.

“Oh I’m sorry Sam, were you busy!?” I snap. What the hell is wrong with me? He’s just tryin to help. Get it together Dean.

“No Dean, I’m here to talk. To listen. I just want you to calm down.” he gestures to the chair and I sit back down, trying to suppress the urge to get up and pace the room again.

“Sorry” I mumble.

“Dean, you know a lot about kids. You’ve helped out a ton with JD and Bobby”

“That’s not the same thing Sam. I’m not gonna be the cool uncle I’m gonna be the dad!”

“So now I’ll be the cool uncle” Sam smirks

“You’ll never be as cool as me”

“Jerk”

“Bitch”

“Seriously Dean, you know what your doing.” He says with confidence.

“How can you say that Sam? How do you know I won’t fuck these kids up?”

After a moment of silence he says,

“I turned out ok”

Fuck. That was unexpected ... Dammit Sam!

I just look at him, and he smiles knowingly.

“Seriously Dean. You pretty much raised me when you were just a kid yourself. You made sure we had food, that we were clean, and you always kept us safe. You helped me with my homework, took me to school,patched up dad, and took care of me when I was sick and scared...you were the only one who was always there for me” he pauses for a moment while what he said sinks into my bones. I know he’s right, there’s truth to what Sam is saying, and I feel somewhat calmer know, but the fear is still there.

“You get me?” He asks

“Yeah I get you” I slap his shoulder as I stand “are we done with this chick flick moment Samantha or should I call Dr.Phil?”

He gives me his signature bitch face and I grin triumphantly

“We’re done. Feel better?”

“Yeah” I exhale “actually I do. Thanks Sammy”

“Don’t mention it”

“I’m still not 100% sure about this though” I say but Sam hears my unspoken message - I’m scared.

“I know” he says “and you always will be. Remember how scared I was when I first found out Eileen was pregnant?”

“Yeah you were a psycho” I answer “I think you bought every baby book ever sold!”

“Yeah I did” he smiles “but it was you that got me through it, told me I could be a father, and I trusted you”

“I trust you Sam, but why am I still so scared?”

“What you feel now Dean is Dad fear. And that never really goes away.” He chuckles at the face I make in response to his statement.

“Think of it this way Dean. We know about all the evils out there, right?” At my nod he continues, “but we don’t let that fact hinder our everyday life. We deal with it, move on and at certain times it becomes intense, like on a hunt- when your running solely on fear and adrenaline. We handle whatever situation is causing the problem and then that fear and knowledge steps into the background..... that’s parenting Dean. The fear that you will mess up, or that your child will get hurt is always there. It just takes a back burner to the important moments and special memories, until something happens that causes it to resurface. Then we handle it and the fear takes a step back again.”

“Like when Crash broke his arm?” I say (he has that nickname for a reason) “That was the hunt. But... knowing it could happen was like knowing a Vamp could sniff you out at any moment?” I ask, the metaphor finally sinking in.

“Exactly” Sam says.

“So you actually have some brains under all that hair dontcha Sammy?” I quip, ruffling his hair for good measure. He slaps my hand away and throws a playful jab at my shoulder. We tussle a bit until the wives holler telling us dinner is ready.

I smile as I watch my family gather around the table,Maybe everything will be alright after all. Maybe I can do this dad thing.

END

Pregnancy Announcements; First is the Readers design & Second is Dean’s

Taglist: @idreamofplaid @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @pisces-cutie @covered-byroses @currentlyfangirling99 @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 @xxhalfbloodprincessxx @supernaturalsammy01 @sammyimpala-67 @ladywinchester1967 @sweetiepie-dean @fangirl-forevers-world @thoughtslikeaminefield @ruthiesconnells @bobasheebaby @evansrogerskitten @missjenniferb @sculptorofbeginnings @kbl1313 @spnskinnyballs @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @justcallmeasmodeus @ain-t-bovvered @purpleskiesandcherrypies @curly-haired-disaster @getnaildbyme @thoughtslikeaminefield @gripmetight-raisemefromperdition @akshi8278 @rebelminxy @a-mess-of-many-fandoms

#spnbromentbingo #spnfluffbingo2019 #The Bunker Bunch #supernatural #dean x reader #sam winchester #fluff #tumbler-tidbits

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bestfriendforhire · 3 years

Text

Children of BFFH, Entry 85

If there were any other players in the small town of Palace Posy—which seemed an especially weird name without a palace in sight—I couldn’t see any sign of them. Villagers were calmly going about their lives, seeming completely unaware that a legendary monster was roaming nearby.

“Oh, come on! That’s terrible, Grandma!” exclaimed Crazy as she giggled to herself.

“Crazy, what are you talking about?” questioned Four.

“Palace Posy.” stated Crazy as if that was supposed to mean something to us. “Guys, Palace Posy! This place is doomed.”

“You’re right. I missed that. Guys, we need to get the villagers out of here immediately.” insisted Four. “Messy, hurry! I have a feeling the Jaggagawaroeth will be heading our way soon.”

“What? Why?” asked Messy, who currently had her character watching for an opportunity to retriever our stuff.

“This town is called Palace Posy.” stated Aid flatly.

“Many places have weird names!” I told them. “What’s the big deal?” I could tell I was missing something, and most of them seemed to know what.

“The town’s name is an anagram for ‘apocalypse’. Auntie Aaliyah probably named the town this as a warning to us.” explained Four with a frown.

“Grandma’s great! Terrible, but great, isn’t she?” asked Crazy proudly, her grin ear-to-ear as she leaned out of her chair to look at me.

“But isn’t an apocalypse supposed to be global?” I asked, hoping they were misinterpreting something.

“That’s always a possibility. Our parents helped unleash the demon lords as the first world event back in the day.” explained Aiko glumly.

“Though the town’s name could be completely unrelated to current events, I still want to warn the villagers of the Jaggagawaroeth’s possible approach. Let’s get to the town hall.” ordered Four as his character set off at a jog.

Unable to keep up on land, I made Megwrn take to the air, soaring high to try spotting a town hall. I couldn’t say what exactly made me glance behind, but I did, not liking what I saw at all. “Guys, I can actually see the Jaggagawaroeth from here.” I warned them, unable to tear my eyes from the massive form in the distance.

“It’s coming already!?” exclaimed Aspy worriedly.

“Looks like it’s resting to me, but I still don’t like how close it is.” I told them.

“I doubt it’ll rest for long.” agreed Four glumly.

I was the last one in the town hall, having stayed too high in the air for too long. To my surprise, Four was already talking with the mayor. The way he spoke made him sound… older. Even addressing a mayor, he was confident and had a soothing quality to his voice.

“How can you be so certain that the beast will come here?” asked the mayor after listening to Four’s report on the situation.

“My friend, Megwrn, spotted the beast nearby from the air. We have no doubt the Jaggagawaroeth will come searching for food.” insisted Four.

“A goblin!” shrieked the mayor, stepping away.

I used my Diplomacy skill and presented my holy symbol while activating Divine Radiance. “I am Megwrn of Moonsilver, Paladin of Ffion. My words will always be the truth as I know it. My heart will never be tainted. My actions will thwart evil wherever they can.” I started, vowing again as a Paladin, so the mayor would recognize me as an ally.

When I was finished, he stepped forward and shook my hand. “A Paladin is, of course, welcome in Palace Posy.” stated the mayor.

With that, I knew the town wasn’t some den of evil. If the town was corrupt, the mayor would be too. His hand would’ve burned just touching Megwrn after her vow. “Mayor, good Peredur speaks the truth. The town is in danger.”

“Then help us, adventurers! Save my people!” exclaimed the mayor as a quest offer appeared on our screen.

“Don’t accept.” warned Aid over the in-game telepathy rather than having his character speak aloud. “This quest is to kill the Jaggagawaroeth before it reaches the town.”

I hadn’t even finished the first sentence when he had spoken, but I declined immediately.

“Good mayor, the creature is too powerful for us to fight it. Please, urge your people to flee!” pleaded Four with a tone that would’ve convinced me in a heartbeat.

“We cannot! There’s no time to make preparations. If you cannot vanquish the beast, might you at least lead it away from us?” asked the mayor, looking a little panicked.

A new quest was offered, but it vanished before I could even read it.

“Good mayor, our provisions were recently lost.” started Crazy, her voice sounding sad as she spoke. “We cannot possibly drag the beast far enough with naught but the clothes on our back. Would your people be willing to give us the supplies we need, so there is hope of saving you?”

With that, negotiations began. The quest reappeared again with an ever-shifting list of rewards as Crazy negotiated. At some point, I realized my mouth had dropped open and snapped it shut. How did she know so much about what was available in this town? Furthermore, Crazy had a way of making everything she requested sound not only reasonable, but as the only reasonable option, explaining her needs with such support that arguing against her requests seemed foolish.

“I think that will do, Justine.” interrupted Four a while later. “I fear the town might be barren if you haggle too much.”

Crazy turned to grin at me outside of the game, winking when I saw her. “Grandma taught me haggling.” she informed me, making me decide I never wanted to try arguing with Aaliyah Sypher.

“I think you learned well.” I assured her, not knowing what else to say.

Before long, we had multiple wagons, four horses per wagon, additional horses that could be traded out should the others need a rest, food, drinks, and a large assortment of gear. As things were loaded, Crazy and I thanked each of the townsfolk, assuring them that our cause was just and our deeds would benefit them, but things had never gone this smoothly for me before.

There were numerous times when NPCs gave Megwrn something she needed, trusting in my character’s role as a Paladin, but there were plenty of people who weren’t happy to be helping me save them. Crazy had a way of making each NPC leave with a smile, which complimenting the skill of their craft or telling of great deeds she would perform with their supplies.

When I asked if she was using some Admin power on the NPCs, she looked at me in surprise and said, “That’d be mean! I wouldn’t do that.”

“Sorry! I wasn’t trying to say you would… I was just… well…” I started, not knowing what to say.

Crazy giggled. “I’m just messing with you. I inherited some skill boosts from Grandmother. Her character can talk hostile creatures out of their equipment while having the creatures be grateful for it.” she explained.

“Oh, so you have a large boost in Diplomacy?” I questioned, feeling a little bit jealous that mine wasn’t nearly that high.

“Uh… no. Messy might have. I was using Swindle.” she admitted with an even broader grin. “The skill only improves when receiving far more than you need. Don’t worry. I always make sure they get their money’s worth.”

I suddenly felt dirty, like I had just been accomplice to a crime, but Megwrn wouldn’t know even though I did. Of course, Crazy did say she’d make sure they’d get fair value for the deal, and a saved town had to be extremely valuable. While I was still wrestling with my thoughts on what just had happened, the group headed out of the town with Four, Aid, Luce, and Ella discussing our plan to lure the Jaggagawaroeth away. Things certainly weren’t turning out as I had expected this weekend.

#Children of BFFH #Children #of #BFFH #Jovial Times #Jovial #Times #Fantasy #Fiction #Story

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