#surely he plans to celebrate his third wedding anniversary | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vampsquerade · 2 years

Note

Hi love! Can you write some fluff with blitz who’s with an S/O that really wants a pet cat? Idk I just really wanted to see some content for this man here 😭😭

hi anon! of course i can, i want to write a lot more for the GSG 9 cause those boys? love em a lot :3 tysm for requesting, i hope you like it!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Blitz x Reader: Special Gifts

Trigger Warnings: Suggestive themes

It was noon on the day of your third anniversary with Elias, and you were the happiest you could be. He told you he would be coming home in about two hours to celebrate your anniversary with him, and you were extremely excited for what he had in store for you. He said that there was going to be a big surprise for you at the end of the night, and you honestly hoped it would be something you wanted. You had, as of 5 months ago, been asking him how he would have felt if you asked him for a pet. He said he wouldn’t mind it, and it baffled him quite a lot why you asked so frequently about it.

You showered yourself, making sure your skin was nice and soft for when Elias eventually came home. Despite the scarring you had from a previous hostage situation you were in where he had rescued you, the very situation in which you two fell in love at first sight, you liked when Elias complimented your softness. You then did your facial routine when it came to getting ready as you dried off, and as you were doing this, you heard the doorbell of your shared home going off. “Y/N? I’m home, liebe!” Elias called out to you. You dried off your face and stepped out of the bathroom, still wrapped in a towel. “That front door better be closed Elias!” you say, walking towards him with a smile on your face. “Getting ready for later, are we? Why don’t you take off that towel so I can see what you’ve got going on under there.” Elias flirted, putting his bags down.

You roll your eyes and hug him with one arm so you could hold up your towel. “You’re home early, I thought you were coming in two hours?” you say. Elias wrapped both his arms around you tightly, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I was, but then I may or may not have mentioned that it was our anniversary today, so Marius dropped me off earlier. He said congratulations, by the way.” he said. Elias kissed your neck before kissing your face all over. “Well make sure you tell him I said thank you before our wedding.” you joke, smiling. “Oh I definitely will, you just have to accompany me when I do.” Elias said, winking.

Rolling your eyes once again, you grab his hand and pull him to the bathroom, “Now it’s your turn to shower, you really need it,” you say, causing Elias to burst out laughing, “I’m waiting for that cute surprise of a possible little kitty later tonight.” you finish. “Oh, you’ll just have to wait and see then. Maybe it’s something a bit more special than just that.” Elias said, slipping into the bathroom. You gasped, squealing excitedly, “Does that mean that you got me a cute little kitty?!” you exclaim. “You’ll just have to wait and see, liebe. Now go and get yourself dressed,” he said, pulling you close and gently nipping at your neck, “or we might just have to cancel all our plans and stay home the longer you’re naked and only in a towel in front of me.”

You give him a quick kiss before pulling away, slipping out of his arms. “As much as I would love that, I want to celebrate our anniversary the way you planned it.” you say, stepping out of the bathroom and going upstairs. “Bring me some fresh clothes and a towel, please?!” Elias yelled out. “Of course! Just promise you’ll step out and show me just you in a towel like I did!” you yell back as you continue going upstairs. “Wunderbar, it’s a deal!” Elias exclaimed, shutting the bathroom door. You laugh softly to yourself and get the outfit you were going to wear set out onto your bed, getting out some undergarments and putting them on. You dress yourself then grab some clothes and a clean towel for Elias, going back downstairs and knocking on the bathroom door.

Elias opened it slightly and looked at you. “Hello, have the clothes?” he asked, smiling. You nod and hand them to him, giving him a kiss on the nose before stepping away once more. He closed the door and got himself showering, and you decided to do your finishing touches on yourself. As you were finishing up, Elias came up to the room with the towel wrapped around his hips. You looked him up and down before grinning, “Hey there, sweetheart.” you say, keeping your eyes on his chest. “Hi, my love. All ready?” he asked, crossing his arms just under his pecs a bit to push them up a bit. You bite your bottom lip and raise your brows, nodding at him, “All done, Just waiting on you.” you say. “Well wait no longer, I’ll be ready soon and we can head out.” Elias said, now moving his hands down to the band of the towel on his waist.

Your eyes shift down there almost immediately, and Elias tsk’d at you. “Turn around liebe, not allowed to see me just yet.” he said. “Pretty please?” you beg. “Nope, now turn around,” he said sternly. Whenever he put that voice up, you practically listened to his every command, and as a result you immediately turned around. “Good job, liebe. I’ll be sure to reward you with everything you’ve ever wanted later.” Elias praised. “Thank you, Elias.” you say sweetly. He hummed in accordance and began to get himself changed into the nicer clothes you had handed him, and towel dried his hair enough to be styled nicely. “Okay liebe, turn around,” he said. You turned to look at him and smiled, walking closer to him to embrace him. “Gonna wear my favorite cologne?” you ask. “As long as you put on mine.” Elias teased, kissing your cheek.

You nodded and went to grab his and yours, handing him the bottle and standing further away so the two didn’t clash and combine when you sprayed yourselves. The two of you did it at the same time subconsciously and it made you smile, knowing that the two of you were so close that you did everything the same way together. “Now sniff test, c’mere.” you say, gesturing for him to come to you. Elias came close to you and sniffed your perfume, sighing softly. As he did this, you sniffed his cologne and smiled. “Alright, now let's get going,” he said. You nod, and the two of you make your way out to celebrate.

The two of you have a nice time out, first going on a nice little museum date before you both head out to a candle lit date once the evening came around. It was once you got home, where you began to feel a sense of unease. You hadn’t seen the other gifts he had gotten you, and you didn’t know if it was that or something else. “Alright liebe, are you ready for your surprise?” Elias asked. “Yes, I’m definitely ready for it.” you say, watching as Elias let go of your hands. “Close your eyes for me, you’re going to love them.” Elias said, walking away from you. “Wait, them? I just thought it was going to be one?” you say. “Sometimes I like to subvert people’s expectations. Keep those eyes closed!” Elias exclaimed from another room.

You quickly covered and closed your eyes, waiting patiently for him to return. You heard the sound of little bells for some reason, accompanied by Elias’ footsteps coming back towards you. “Shh, keep still.” you heard him whisper. “Can I open my eyes now?” you asked. “Yes, go ahead and open your eyes.” Elias said. You could hear the glee in his voice and you uncovered your eyes, gasping loudly at what you saw. In front of you, there were two kittens wearing ribbons, notes tied to the ribbon. The notes read “Will you marry me?” on them in red, cursive calligraphy, and Elias was on one knee in front of you with a ring box opened to reveal a ring with a beautiful diamond in it. “Oh my god…E-Elias, you got kittens for your proposal?” you ask, still in shock. “I did. Now, Y/N L/N, will you do me the honor of making me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he asked.

You quickly nodded, and Elias gently grabbed your hand to slip the ring on your ring finger before reaching down and grabbing the two kittens. You smiled as he handed both of you, “You really listened and got me kittens…I’m so fucking happy right now. What a sneaky little proposal, where did you even get these?” you ask. “Well, before I left, I may or may not have forced Dominic to care for them while I was gone. He had a neighbor that was expecting some kittens, and I had him ask if he could get his neighbor to give me two of them.” Elias explained, chuckling. Your eyes began watering as you nuzzled the kittens to your chest, kissing both of their little heads. “Want to know something about them?” he asked. “Mhm, please tell me before I let my nefarious thoughts win and give you a good night while the kitties sleep in the guest room.” you say.

Elias flustered, swallowing his saliva hard, “The black and white tuxedo kitten is actually male, and the pure white fluffy kitten is female. Ironic, no?” he asked. “God damn, that’s so fucking cute. Let's get these sweet babies upstairs. Have they eaten and had water?” you ask, walking towards the stairway. Elias nodded, following after you, “Dominic kept them well fed, and now the two of us will keep them well fed and taken care of.” he said. “Good, now let’s go upstairs so I can go ahead and give you my gift.” you say, winking as you begin going up the stairs. “Oh, with pleasure.” he said, following you and your newly adopted kittens.

#r6s #rainbow six siege #r6s x reader #rainbow six siege x reader #r6s blitz #elias kötz #blitz x reader #fluff #fluff fic #r6s GSG 9

32 notes · View notes

faith3191 · 2 years

Text

The Excerpt of a Lonely Housewife

I never have expected my life to be like this, at 31. Married…but single and alone. As a little girl, I dreamed of a man that would come take me away from this hell I lived in. Growing up with a single Mama as your only role model, (one whom had been controlled her whole life) sure made things interesting. Sure I had a father, but one who loved his wrestling career and poor choices in wives more than actually being a father. See, I’ve always been on the back burner to the important men in my life, so that's what I learned love was…An only “sometimes” thing that I craved.

I would go most of my teenage life making mistakes, looking for love in all the wrong places. So sure…I had mommy and daddy issues, because I also looked for the love i was lacking in my “distant-but-there” mother in the friendships I made. I always just wanted to be accepted. And if I wasn't, it broke my sensitive heart.

I met the man that I called my future ex-husband in the beginning. This man inspired Carrie Underwood's “Cowboy Casanova” hit song. His charmingly blue eyes and southern drawl had me hooked. His work ethic was good and that's what I was looking for, considering my past ex had none. This man was bad in all the right ways and I thought to myself, “here is a man that has his shit together.” Sure he has a few kinks to work out, but it was do-able. Ha! I wasn't prepared for the “shitshow” that would be.

Here this “bull of a man” was, with more issues than I ever thought about having. He didn't like Christmas because they didn't celebrate it, or ever even had a tree when he was a child. Okay cool, my new goal was to make him love Christmas as much as I did. It was like I was giving this grown man a childhood through giving my kids one as well. I slowly over the years watched his eyes light up more and more at Christmas time, which was a goal in itself. That would always end bad a few days later as the anniversary of his his dads death rolled around. That was grounds for him to get drunk and fight with me because he couldn’t handle his heart being broke, or being sad. It came out as anger.

March 2014, we welcomed my third child, (his first, a boy) into the world. That little boy came out looking like him and acting like him just as much. That was his pride and joy…never seen a man beam with so much joy! As he held him he looked at me and said "I will never pick up another bottle.” He named our son after his father “Charlie.”

I had high hopes he meant that promise, as I held him to it. That promise was shattered when he did in fact pick up many more bottles. The first time in particular, I had to fight with him to get the keys out of his hand. The first of many times…and each time got harder and harder because he liked to travel when he was drunk. I used to have nightmares he would leave me, and he did a lot. But he always came back, so I was like “cool, Daniel wont ever leave me!” A blessing and a curse, all wrapped into one. Trust me, you’ll see what I mean.

In February 2017 we got engaged, not a dream come true like i pictured as a big eyed little girl when I dreamed of my prince. He never would ask me to marry him and then in the mist of a hormone driven temper tantrum ( i was pregnant with our rainbow baby) and yelled at me " I was gonna ask you to marry me, but YOU ruined it. I said Fine forget the proposal we will just get married!

I Spent the next few months not really planning my dream wedding but one i was settling for as i was paying , planning and putting it all together myself. I planned the most low budgeted wedding for right at 500 dollars in under four months. I had skill and determination.

In June of that year , the 10th to be exact that was the day my whole life would change, as he left that morning with our boys in tow i got ready to become a bride with my daughter, mom, and mamaw all there to help me get ready, my dad in the background observing, My mom did my make up and my friend did my hair. I was 6 months pregnant and already glowing.

I heard the music start in the doorway of that church and my arm was sweaty against my dads arm, "you ready?" i heard him ask. I nodded nervously and sucked in my bottom lip. Here i go, about to walk down to the man I would spend the rest of my life with , I must have been really nervous because I practically ran down the aisle.

As I stand there and we say our vows I look behind me at our little boy clung to the tail of my dress whos holding a sign that reads "Daddy here comes Mommy" my life was complete. I really thought i had my happy ending. There was nothing else more in life i could ever want. But oh boy did God have other plans.-- (Part 1)-- i will post part two later!

#daddy issues #mommy issues #momlife #marriage #divorce #love #toxic relationships #narcissist #healing #healingjourney #bad boys #toxic patterns #growing up #mom thoughts #momof4 #feelings #lovelife

2 notes · View notes

liaromancewriter · 3 months

Text

Book 3 Fics

Throwback Thursday 🎨 Cassie shares a memory on Pictagram and how Ethan inspired her to change her life path towards medicine. But someone from her past reminds her of what she left behind.

Memories 🎨 Cassie shares more memories on Pictagram from her ballet company days and a trip to Bali, which has Ethan paying attention.

Self-Care Date 🎨 Cassie decides to focus on herself but it soon turns into a self-care date.

Broken Dreams 🎭 When Cassie’s ex returns, she has to reflect on the person she was and the love she’s found that is worth fighting for.

Surrender 💋 When an addition to the Diagnostics Team shifts the dynamics, it places Cassie and Ethan on opposite sides of the issue.

Not Ready to Make Nice 🌼 When Ethan gets hurt, he’s not surprised to find that Cassie isn’t quite as understanding of his predicament.

Checks and Balances 🎨 After a few frustrating cases, Cassie tries new ways to relax and deal with the pitfalls of medicine.

Reunions and Resets 🎨 After a grueling few weeks, Cassie spends three days in London with her brother to recharge and reset. Continuation from Checks and Balances.

It’s a Match 🌼 When Cassie receives an unexpected email, it forces her and Ethan to settle a pressing issue. Follow-up to Reunions and Resets.

Truly, Madly, Deeply 🌼 Cassie spends a difficult day dealing with a crisis in the emergency department only to find that love is blind after all.

Two Birthdays 🌼 Cassie’s upset when her birthday plans don’t come to fruition, while Ethan finally finds the joy in celebrating his big day.

Reflections and Renewals 🎪 Cassie’s temper flares up as the first anniversary of the poison attack approaches, but she soon learns the value of second chances.

And There Was This Cat 🌼 Ethan reminisces with Harper, and Cassie isn’t sure what to make of it.

Crossed Wires 🎨 Cassie finds out Max kept a secret from her.

A Love Like Ours 🌼 When Cassie faces off against one too many PITAs, Ethan is there to help cheer her up in more ways than one.

Fall in New England 🎨 Cassie enjoys the fall season in New England over the years.

Full Circle 🌼 Ethan meets someone from his past and realizes life is full of surprises.

Making It Work 🎨 After a solo outing, Cassie and Ethan come to a realization about their relationship.

You’re All I Need 💋 Tinsel is the perfect accessory for a sexy new holiday tradition.

Stardust 🌼 Ethan and Cassie’s skating date plans go awry, but all hope is not lost.

Fairy Dust 🌼 Cassie finds joy in reconnecting with an old love and shares new memories with Ethan during the holiday season.

The Elf Affair 🌼 When it comes to Christmas, there’s one tradition that Cassie Valentine would be happy to forget.

My Christmas Wish 🌼 Cassie and Ethan spend their first Christmas together as a couple, but the day doesn’t go exactly as planned.

The Negotiation 🌼 Ethan has a huge favor to ask of Cassie. But it’s going to cost him.

Private Jets and Public Moments 🎨 An edit of Cassie and Ethan’s trip to Hawaii in a private jet. Inspired by Open Heart: Third Year, chapter 10.

Roomie Road Trip 🎨 While in Hawaii for Ines’ wedding, the Roomies decide to take a day to explore the island and let loose. Set in Third Year.

Yoga Fun 🎨 Cassie is all about trying new things, until she isn’t.

Best Laid Plans 🎨 Ethan offers to help Cassie study for the upcoming boards, but his plans go sideways.

Study Session 💋 When Ethan agrees to help Cassie study for her boards, their competitive nature comes out and the session soon takes an interesting turn.

Gemini Calling 🎨 The Boards are finally here and Cassie wants the people she loves around her. But they don’t seem to want her.

Girls Day Out 🎨 The Boards are over and Cassie enjoys downtime with just the girls.

Animal Farm 🎨 Cassie spends the day doing charity work with her grandmother.

Crossing the Bridge 🎨 Cassie spends an afternoon cheering up her best friend, and thinking about what happens with Ethan now that her residency is coming to an end.

Much Tattoo About Nothing 🎨 When Cassie’s tattoo attracts interest from the tabloids, it has everyone buzzing.

Last Shift 🌼 It’s Cassie’s last day as a resident, and she has plans to commemorate the occasion with Ethan.

Only Me. Only You. 🌼Ⓜ Cassie and Ethan share a fantasy with each other about the first time at Donahue’s and what could have been if they hadn’t met before.

#my masterlist

0 notes

kythewriter · 4 months

Text

OMNISCIENT:

JUNE 14th 2023

2:45pm

"Terminal A : Flight Boarding To Dubai vegans Now Please Have Your Boarding Pass Ready"

Everyone Going To Dubai Began Gathering their Things Getting In The Correct Line In Order Of Their Passes , Salem Boards First Being A -5 She smiles and thanks the attendant going to her preferred window seat , she enjoyed watching the clouds it brings her a sense of calmness , She made sure her Laptop was on Airplane mode before the flight even began. She sent a short text to her mother telling her she loved her and would see her after her mini vacation. She was finally happy to get away from the toxic environment she was in .

Boarding Next Was Jelani Being In The Row Next to Her but 6 Seats Down He Made sure he had everything before getting comfortable he was planning to meet his homeboys down in Dubai for his Bestfriend Wedding , he was excited for the new experience and happy for his friend. He shot his bestfriend a text letting him know he was currently on the plane and was waiting for Take Off He'd Make it for the Wedding that is supposed to happen in Two Days .

Anais Boarded the Plane With His Girlfriend Excited for their One Year Anniversary they was going to Celebrate In Dubai He was Madly In Love with her , he Was Seated In The Third Row Over In the Middle Cuddled up next to his girlfriend " Jesus Anais , Give me a little space it's already so small on here I need to breathe you know ion like planes ."

"Sorry , you suggested Dubai mamas I was okay with driving to anywhere you wanted as long as you didn't fly" she sighed irritated with him " okay just let me rest okay ? I'm really sleepy I was up all night" he frowned " I thought you slept all night and that's why we couldn't fall asleep on the phone like we usually do" she sighed " I was sleep but I was anxious and was in and out of my sleep baby" he nodded giving her some space knowing how it could be to ride a plane for the first time .

Tremani Bobbed His Head to The Music He was Listening to as he found a seat Next to Jelani Getting Comfortable " Hey" he gave him a head nod " wassup ? This cool if I sit here ?" Jelani Nodded giving him the Okay . Tremani Was Going to Dubai to Spread His Grandma Ashes In the Ocean as her last dying wish , it was the least he could do for his favorite lady . He was hyped to be finally going somewhere instead of being home 24/7 when he wasn't working .

Baylene boarded the plane lastly sitting directly in the back closest to the bathroom , she knew she'd eventually get air sick so she was glad to have the seat in the back she wanted to get to Dubai for her Cousin wedding in two days that she promised she'd go to especially since her girlfriend was the maid of honor .

As everyone got seated and situated the Flight Attendant began to speak "On behalf of Emirates Airline, it is my pleasure to welcome you aboard flight 26874 with service to Miami ,Fl and continuing service to dubai. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. We also ask that your seats and table trays are in the upright position for take-off."

As the flight attendant went off demonstrating safety protocols everyone made sure they were strapped in and safe for their flight , some people were anxious and some were excited for their new trip .

Once the plane began take off and was fully in the air , People began to unfasten their seatbelts getting comfortable watching whatever was on the tv and began getting small snacks from the flight attendants.

As time went on everything was going smoothly it wasn't until they were half way across the ocean when things went down south , " everyone fasten your seat belts please" everyone began to worry as the plan began to shake more and more .

Out of instinct Jelani grabbed Tremanis hand to keep himself sane , Salem began to pray , Baylene held tight to her seat as her nerves got the best of her , Anais strapped his sleeping girlfriend up and himself holding her hand tightly . No one knew what the outcome would be .

"EVERYONE BRACE FOR IMPACT" everyone began panicking throwing their oxygen mask on bracing for the oncoming impact .

Things happen so fast all you can hear are screams from different passages as the plane went down piece by piece of the plane broke off mid air crashing into a body of water right before the actual land of an unknown island, a lot of people died on impact from the blunt force trauma and the panic they went through .

Some Unknown time later 5 Passengers made it safely on Land swimming with what they could with a bunch of bumps and bruises panicking and afraid of the unknown.

#authors #urban fantasy #stranded #amateur writer #prologue #wattpad #neobook #urbanromance #allrightsreserved

1 note · View note

jasonblaze72 · 2 years

Link

0 notes

inneratinyrebel · 2 years

Text

3 Things- Choi Jongho

"There are 3 things Choi Jongho loves in this world.

Number 3: His job.

Jongho lives to perform. No matter how tired he gets, he loves the practices, the coming up with routines. He loves preparing for vlives. He loves interacting with his fans, preparing for tours and fan signs. The thrill he gets before he gets on stage, is unmatched. The anxiety, of wanting to jump on stage, sing and dance his heart out. Watch the crowd sing along and be there to support him. He loves going into the studio, learn new songs and record them. This is the third thing he absolutely loves and knows he would never be able to live without it. On top of that he loves making covers, it gives him joy, seeing how much the fans enjoy it.

Number 2: His family and friends.

Jongho, even tho he doesn´t show it, is a family man. He loves his family. Their love and support help him go on every single day. Even if he can´t call them every day or spend that much time with them, he tries to call them often. Check in and make sure they are all doing alright. He likes to know what his parents are doing, how they are doing and if there is anything he can do for them. His friends, he loves them. He appreciates how much his friends support him, those outside of our group, because our members, he doesn´t consider us friends, no. We are family. We are his brothers, every single one of them. Hongjoong, is like an older brother to him, always has some good advice. Seonghwa, is also like an older brother, always making sure he has eaten enough and has rested enough. Yunho can always bring a smile to his face. Yeosang is one of the most mature people in the group, and therefore they can have some of the best talks. We all know that Yeosang is one of his favorite hyungs. San is one of the best big brothers he could ask for, even if he is clingy, Jongho actually appreciates his clinginess. I am obviously a great person as well. Always makes him smile, and we always have the best time working out together with Yeosang. Wooyoung, Jongho wouldn´t be where he is without him.Jongho is incredibly grateful for how much Wooyoung often has his back. He is thankful for everything we have all done for him.

Number 1: You

Jongho met you in a fan sign, early on. He didn´t think much of why he kept thinking about you, but event after event you were there. The more he saw you, the less he could stop thinking about you. You were on his mind so much. So one day, at one event, when you sat down in front of him, he took a leap of faith, and he scribbled his number into your photobook, and was openly flirting with you, hoping the message would come across. You didn´t text him for days, which left him in a state of anxiety and disappointment. He had felt so stupid for thinking you would ever want to date him. Well, this was proven wrong, when a couple of weeks after the fan sign, you finally called. As he listened to apologize and explain that you had not opened your photobook, he could not be quick enough to cut you off and ask you on a date. After that first date, came many others and when Jongho got home after the fifth date, with a loopy grin on his face, he revealed, not only had he kissed you, but he also had finally asked you to be his girlfriend. As time passed, you first month together went by, then your first 6 months, and then your first year together. There were fights due to his schedule and how you would often feel, but you always ended up back together. You both knew you couldn´t live with each other. It didn´t come as a surprise to anyone when after your 1 year anniversary, you were announcing that you were engaged. Now here we are today, at this beautiful wedding, to celebrate you and Jongho, finally getting married after a whole year of being engaged, but hey, time had some different plans for you guys and at last, it was worth the wait"

You looked over at your new husband, holding your 2 month old baby in his arms. You were in tears but smiling as you sat with your husband.

"I am thankful, Jongho met you, I have never seen him smile, so much in his whole entire life. You are perfect together. I know you will have a wonderful marriage, I know your baby is growing up with the coolest parents. I am thankful that you included us in this ceremony. We love you and we wish you the best. I love you both"

Mingi finished giving his best man speech. The ceremony was small. Since you had your baby not too long ago, you wanted something private. So here you were sitting together, in your parents backyard, enjoying the summer air and celebrating your marriage with the boys, your closest relatives and the boys managers (since they were like family), as well as some of your closest friends. This was it. This was the happiest day of your life.

84 notes · View notes

antebunny · 3 years

Text

Parent Trap AU 5

It’s a Parent Trap AU, plus on-the-run hacker!wwx and celebrity!lwj. Full series here.

At first, Lan Wangji finds writing songs to be extremely challenging.

He’s all but quit his job, and his son is gone. He’s alone in the house he once shared with his family, while his brother tries to keep quiet about pitying him and supporting him, and his uncle demands to know why he has no interest in searching for his son. He’s the one that files the kidnapping report, in the end. Not that it does much; they’re already searching for Wei Ying, since he escaped from prison.

All Lan Wangji really does, during this time, is cry by his piano, and sing.

The melodies come naturally to him. He’s been writing melodies for years, and these songs are no different. He has a thousand things to say, so some are angry, so fast he thinks he might tear his fingers on the guitar strings, some are soft with only piano accompaniment. All too soon he has dozens of recordings of phrases that can be put together into full-length songs. The only one he doesn’t record is the one he wrote for guqin, years ago.

But the lyrics, the lyrics he struggles with for ages. Not Lan Wangji finds himself at a loss for what to say. He doesn’t speak much, it’s true, but when he does he always finds precisely what he wants to say. Rather, Lan Wangji finds he has too much to say.

One Friday afternoon, he sits down on his couch and plays the same ten-minute ballad on his guitar, trying again and again to find a way to shorten it without feeling like he’s ripping a part of his already shattered heart out of his chest. While suppressing the urge to write more verses. He knows he can’t leave them all in; it’s too repetitive. He wants these songs to be good, though he doesn’t really plan on marketing them. A large part of him thinks it’ll always be like this. Just him and his instruments, alone in the living room, mourning over a love long lost, making himself cry over his own lyrics.

Still, Lan Wangji is a perfectionist at heart. He has to do something about the ten-minute ballad. It’s longer than two songs put together.

What if I made them two separate songs?

The thought comes to Lan Wangji suddenly, and he sets down his guitar to pick up the notebook containing the lyrics. This could work. He becomes convinced of this the longer he looks at the lyrics. He’ll never run out of things to say about Wei Ying, but if he separated each of those things into one song–that could work.

He chooses a different melody, edits the lyrics to fit it, picks out a theme, an aspect of Wei Ying to sing about, and suddenly he has a whole discography, and not a single published song.

Lan Wangji goes to his brother.

“Are you sure about this?” Lan Xichen asks, his brows pulled together in a small, worried dip.

“Mn.”

They stare at each other without speaking, because Lan Xichen knows that every concern he might think of, Lan Wangji has already over thought.

“Even if he hears them?”

Lan Wangji will never be famous enough that Wei Ying, wherever in the world he might be, will hear his songs. But if he does, then all the better. “Mn.”

Lan Xichen sighs. “I just don’t want to see you hurt anymore.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t think that’s possible. “Hm.”

Lan Xichen sighs again. “Okay,” he says. “If that’s what you want. I’m sure A-Yao knows someone. I’ll ask.”

It’s a while before he finds someone who’ll actually produce his music, but he’s happy with the person he ends up with. Luo Qingyang emails him back almost immediately after she listens to his demo.

I need you down here yesterday, she says. This is getting produced right now.

His first song, When We Were Young, is released as a single less than a year after the scandal that took Wei Ying from his life, under the stage name “Hanguang-jun.” He’s not sure it fits, but he wants to.

And suddenly, it looks like Lan Wangji might actually be that famous.

Of course, it’s still years in the future, so Lan Wangji carries on like he’s not. His second single, At First Glance, does even better than When We Were Young, and his manager starts bothering him about a music video. Apparently it’s expected of him, but Lan Wangji rejects all of the ideas that the directors Luo Qingyang finds for him come up with. They end up renting a house for a week and filming there, then going to a studio with lights and a piano. Lan Wangji dresses up for that and plays his heart out, and that’s it, that’s the music video.

His third single, Under Moonlight, is somehow more popular than his previous two combined. He has fans now, or maybe it’s just that he’s only now realizing it. He’s not quite sure what to do with that. The video this time takes place on the very bridge the song talks about. He doesn’t do much, since he rejected the idea of hiring actors to play the “counterpart,” so he’s confused as to why it continues gaining views on YouTube. Apparently he looks young. He’s not sure if this is insulting or not, but the internet would probably be shocked to learn he has a five-year-old son.

Lan Sizhui is too young to listen to music by himself, so Lan Wangji hopes that somewhere, there’s a radio playing one of the new hit songs by Hanguang-jun, and a father-son duo walking past.

Luo Qingyang bullies him into exactly one interview before his first album is released. On it, he accidentally confirms that all the songs on the album are about one person, and panics after that, not wishing to reveal anything about Wei Ying or even Lan Wangji’s own name on camera.

Apparently the mystery helps? Lan Wangji understands fame less and less the closer he comes to it. He thought if he just wrote good songs, enough people would listen to him that Wei Ying would hear it. Wei Ying is spotted in Thailand, and Lan Wangji ends up naming his first album Oceans Apart.

It sells, and it sells, and still, Wei Ying and their son are nowhere to be found.

Wei Wuxian is lying on a roof the night of his wedding anniversary.

Purple, white, and red fireworks explode in the black sky above him. There’s some celebration going on in the city, and Wei Wuxian takes advantage of it to pretend it’s in celebration of his anniversary.

Not that there’s much to celebrate. He doesn’t think it’s typical to celebrate the anniversary of a marriage which no longer exists, but their marriage didn’t end in the typical way either.

And he still loves Lan Zhan. Loves him so much that the sight of rabbits brings him to tears. So much that he feels like a traitor whenever someone so much as smiles in his direction, so much that he can’t imagine himself flirting with someone. So much that he cries on the roof when the fireworks light up the sky.

“Papa?”

Wei Wuxian looks to the right, and there’s Wei Sizhui, who is sometimes the only thing keeping Wei Wuxian going on his darkest nights. He’s nestled up with Wei Wuxian’s arm around him, small face peering earnestly at him from the dark. “What?”

“Why are you crying?”

Wei Wuxian raises one hand instinctively to rub the tears away. He’d forgotten about that. He’s thrown himself fully into caring for his son, making sure that he has clothes and good food to eat, which is hard when they never stay in a place for long and Wei Wuxian is paranoid of anyone who stares at them too long. Sometimes he wonders if he’s really doing any good, keeping Wei Sizhui away from his other father and uncles and aunts, from a happy childhood with friends and a school. And every time, he blinks back to the moment he woke up in the prison having narrowly avoided being murdered, and knows that Wei Sizhui is still safer with him than he’d be if he was still there, within the Jins reach.

“Nothing,” Wei Wuxian says. “It’s nothing.”

Wei Sizhui frowns. “But Papa is sad,” he declares.

Wei Wuxian presses the back of his hand over his eyes. Fireworks crack so loudly it muffles his shaky inhale. Tears stream down his cheeks and around his ears. Red lights flash across his eyelids.

White lights flash through the stage, focusing on the solitary grand piano, and Lan Wangji, in his white suit, seated on the piano bench. A hush falls across the massive crowd. He adjusts his microphone slightly, and places his fingers gently atop the keys. The cameras zoom in on him.

And Lan Wangji sings.

“I’m just remembering,” Wei Wuxian whispers. “Someone I used to know.”

“Is it Dad?” Wei Sizhui asks timidly.

Wei Wuxian inhales shakily again, then wraps his arm back around his son. “Yeah,” he admits. “It’s your other father.”

He hasn’t looked back since he ran away. Countless times, he’s thought about Googling the Jiangs in an internet cafe, just to check on how they’re doing. They have social media profiles, so he could. He could. But even the slightest hint of connection could ruin what Wei Wuxian has managed to salvage. The Jiangs would fight for him. Would drag their names in the mud for him, and he can’t let them do that to themselves, so he cuts all ties and doesn’t look back.

Wei Wuxian hasn’t dared to search Lan Wangji since he ran away.

“Hello,” Lan Wangji sings, and the crowd cheers.“It’s me. I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet, to go over everything. They say that time’s supposed to heal you, but I ain’t done much healing.”

Before he knows it, there’s tears streaming down his face. They drip onto his nice white suit, but the music doesn’t pause.

Hello from the other side

“Will we ever see him again?” Wei Sizhui asks plaintively.

I must have called a thousand times

Wei Wuxian tries to shake his head, his shoulders pressed against the dusty brick roof. “I don’t know, baby,” he says.

To tell you I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done

“But why not?” Wei Sizhui pushes. It’s far from the first time he’s asked, but each day it gets harder and harder to answer.

Hello from the outside

“Because he’s very, very far away,” Wei Wuxian replies this time, and tries not to think of Lan Zhan as he last saw him, sleeping peacefully in their bed the night Wei Wuxian broke in and took Wei Sizhui with him. “Oceans away.”

At least I can say that I tried

Eventually, the fireworks stop, and Wei Sizhui falls asleep, head resting in the crook of Wei Wuxian’s arm. Wei Wuxian raises one hand to the midnight sky, pretends he can reach through the vast expanse to wherever his family is. “Happy anniversary, Lan Zhan,” he whispers. “I miss you.”

To tell you I’m sorry for breaking your heart

Eventually, the song ends, and the cheers deafen the stadium. The lights go out long after Lan Wangji has gotten up from his seat and stepped away from the microphone. The tears on his face are invisible until the cameras focus in on him walking.

“Happy anniversary, Wei Ying,” he whispers, before he picks up the microphone to thank the crowd. “I love you.”

#antebunny's ficlets #parent trap au #i will not pretend to write a song that's Famous™#i'll just steal Adele's which has 2.8B views on youtube #:)#mdzs #the untamed

89 notes · View notes

justoneofthoseghosts · 3 years

Note

Wed me + brettsey maybe a proposal 🥰☺️

Matt thanks the server who escorts them to their table in a secluded part at the back of the room. He watches as the server pulls out Sylvie’s plush chair and wait for her to sit before pushing it back in. He glances at his girlfriend, who looks completely radiant in a black, cap sleeved midi length dress. Her hair is half pinned up, the rest cascading over her shoulders in loose waves.

He’s admittedly a bit nervous. He pats his coat pocket to make sure for the tenth time that evening that the small ring box is still there. Somewhere between checking thirty minutes ago and now, he imagines it may have evaporated or jumped out of his pocket.

Yeah, he’s slowly losing his mind, he knows this, but he’s doing it tonight. He’s finally proposing to Sylvie Brett and he wants to make sure everything goes right.

He booked a table at Alinea telling Sylvie he wanted to take her out to a fancy dinner. Truth be told, he’s been holding on to this ring for a month trying to figure out the best way to do it.

And so here they are. Matt envisions after dessert, he’ll bring out the ring, get down on one knee and ask her to marry him, hoping that she’ll say yes.

It’s the perfect plan. Nothing, he thinks, will go wrong tonight.

It turns out, the universe has other plans. He thinks some higher power must be laughing at his proclamation that this night was going to go off without a hitch.

There’s barely into their third course when he hears the distinct sound of a fire alarm. He looks at Sylvie who raises her eyebrows. She seems to have heard it too so it’s not all in his head and caused by the stress of proposing.

This is just great, Matt thinks. He spots a server walking over to them and he knows they’re about to be evacuated.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

He helps Sylvie back into her coat and they make their way out of the restaurant calmly. When they step out, he sees the lieutenant on Engine 51 from first shift overseeing the scene. He and Sylvie walk over to the older firefighter to check on what’s going on.

“Small kitchen fire but my guys got it covered,” the lieutenant says before noticing Matt and Sylvie’s attire, “date night?”

Sylvie laughs, “yeah, Matt convinced me to celebrate our second year anniversary tonight.”

“Oh? Congratulations. When was it?” the older man asks, making small talk.

“Six months ago,” Sylvie quips, eyeing Matt with a small smirk on her face.

Matt thought it was the most plausible excuse and Sylvie would not have agreed otherwise knowing how expensive Alinea was. They weren’t able to celebrate their anniversary anyway since they got caught up in a week long arson investigation so he thought killing two birds with one stone wasn’t such a bad idea.

The Engine crew emerges from the back of the restaurant, “all clear, Lieutenant.”

Matt sighs. He’s been a firefighter long enough to know that they won’t be getting back inside anytime soon. So much for the perfect night. Matt bites back a groan and the urge to stomp his feet like a little child throwing a temper tantrum. He wanted it to be flawless and it almost was until some line cook haphazardly started a fire. the one night it just had to happen.

He hears Sylvie bid good night to Engine and feels her loop her arm through his, pulling him closer as they walk back to where his truck is parked.

“I know it’s not Alinea but how about we get some cheeseburgers and milkshakes from that diner in the Ukrainian Village instead?” she asks, smiling, trying to console him. He thinks Sylvie can sense his disappointment in the sudden change of their plans.

God, he really loves this woman. He doesn’t even have to say a word and somehow, she just knows.

Matt relaxes slightly before replying, “that sounds great.”

They walk hand in hand into the small diner they’ve both grown to love, still in their fancy outfits. They slide into a booth as a waitress comes by with laminated menus. Both opt to order a cheeseburger with waffle fries on the side. Sylvie manages to convince the waitress to allow them to order Neapolitan milkshakes even if they weren’t on the menu. She says she remembers her dad buying a giant tub of Dreyer’s Neapolitan ice cream when she was a kid and got this sudden wave of nostalgia to have something similar again.

They swap stories, the ones that they haven’t told each other yet over the last two and a half years. Sylvie tips her head back laughing as Matt details how he tried to stop Kelly and Andy from skinny dipping in Lake Michigan on a dare one night in late fall. He failed spectacularly and the other two spent a week sick in bed.

As they start to dig into their food, Sylvie not caring that the grease from the burger is ruining her immaculate makeup, Matt begins to realize that it doesn’t matter where he proposes or how or if he had a list a feet long about all the ways to make the night perfect. He knows whenever he does it, he will remember it for the rest of his life because looking at Sylvie now, the important thing is, she’ll hopefully soon agree to be his wife.

When they get back to their townhouse, he opens the door and watches as Sylvie takes off her heels and places them on the shoe rack by the door. She shrugs off her coat and hangs it on the coat rack.

Matt knows now is the moment so he reaches for his pocket and pulls out the small ring box, opening it, relieved to find the diamond ring still intact, gleaming in the dim hallway light. He takes a deep breathe and thinks it’s now or never.

“Sylvie.”

“Hmm?” she hums before turning around.

Matt gets down on one knee, holding out the box to her, “I thought this night would go very differently. I had it all planned down to the last second of me doing this but I think like how we didn’t see each other coming, not everything can be foreseen.”

He sees the understanding in her eyes and how she is likely thinking the same thing as he is. If you told him five years ago that he would be asking Sylvie Brett to marry him, he would have laughed and called you crazy but life’s full of those curveballs and Sylvie might just be the best one yet.

“Will you marry me?” he asks, his voice confident, not betraying how fast his heart is beating at the moment, how it's like it wants to escape his chest.

There’s a beat before Sylvie nods and utters a soft yes. Her eyes are shiny with unshed tears and Matt feels himself getting emotional too. He gets up and strides over to her, kissing her with all he’s got. He feels Sylvie's hand slide up to cup his face. It's the most perfect moment, he thinks. He would not have traded this for anything else - it happened exactly the way it should have.

When they part for air, he slips the ring onto Sylvie's finger and she quietly admires the new, glittering diamond adorning her hand. She smiles at him, "I love you."

"I love you," he echoes before carrying her bridal style into their bedroom.

Leave me a prompt 🦋

#chicago fire #brettsey #fanfic prompt

35 notes · View notes

mrwinterr · 3 years

Text

The Devil Always Works Harder

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Female Reader

Summary: Your husband can’t make it back in time for your wedding anniversary. The town’s sheriff takes notice and doesn’t plan to let you celebrate alone.

Warnings: Adult themes 18+ | Smut (unprotected & non/dub-con sex, vaginal penetration & fingering, belly bulge, breeding kink). Infidelity. Corruption. Language. Manipulation. Sexual assault. Mentions of alcohol consumption & misuse of drugs (date rape drug).

Disclaimer: The Devil All The Time (2020) film spoiler-free! Please be careful if you’re out in public and NEVER leave your drink unattended! I’d rather go thirsty than accept a drink from someone I’d just met, seemingly sealed in a bottle or not.

A/N: I’m not sure when date rape drugs became a thing, but for the sake of this fic, let’s just forget about specifics in the drug timelines.

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes quickly turned into an hour, and already you’d drank at least two glasses of water, ate a small basket of bread that was offered, the second growing stale in front of you, and you even made a trip to the restroom, but still there was no sign of your husband in the dimly lit restaurant.

Tonight, was your third wedding anniversary but it felt longer than that. You and your husband were high school sweethearts, so there’d been plenty of anniversaries throughout the years, and the love never faltered. The pair of you were very understanding and caring of each other. He was really the one.

He’d been away for at least four days now on a business trip, and while you were used to him traveling for work, tonight was different. It was your wedding anniversary, and he was set to return to town in time to celebrate another milestone of the relationship. It’s not like there was much to be excited about when hitting the streets of Knockemstiff, but tonight you were given a reason to look extra nice and just enjoy an evening out with your husband, maybe even cap it off lovingly in bed. Who knows? Maybe tonight would even be the night you two start trying for a family.

You do your best to sit there trying to not look so dejected as you stare at the condensation budding on the outsides of your glass of water, but you’d been occupying this table for a long time now while the other occupants enjoyed their dinner around you. They just had to have noticed you’d been stood up by now. The eyes felt heavy on you. It’s not until the waiter tending to you the whole night breaks the spell.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Sitting up straight you listen to what he has to say; perhaps if you needed yet another refill or wanted to go ahead and place an order, but it wasn’t any of those. Instead, he informs you that they’d received a phone call a few minutes ago from your husband, claiming he was extremely sorry for not being able to make the reservation.

Still keeping up with appearance, but you know you’re failing miserably to look okay, you thank the waiter for the message and leave a decent amount of cash to pay for the establishment letting you practically loiter there for an hour and occupy the table.

Before you leave, you ask if you can borrow the phone to make a quick phone call, which they were kind enough to allow you to. Your husband had given you the number of the hotel he was staying at a few towns over, and you wanted to not only make sure he’s okay, but at least speak to him on your anniversary.

“Hello?” You hear his tired voice through the receiver.

“Hey, babe, it’s me,” you reply, clutching the phone closer to you, like that’d make you feel any better. The distance was still large, and you longed for him to return.

“Hey! Honey, I’m so sorry,” he says, very apologetic, “the client is asking us to come back and present a final pitch tomorrow and then they’ll make a decision on if they want to sign a deal with us...”

The company he worked for was very prominent and credible in the area. He provided for you both just fine and you knew how important this client was to them. He was leading this pitch with his boss close by, and you were made aware that if they successfully closed this deal it would send him to a promotion and you’d both be set, enough to possibly leave the rough town of Knockemstiff. This was no place for you, and he was determined to get you both out of here as soon as he could.

“Oh, yeah. No, I get it,” you respond, trying to sound as understanding as you could without giving off how crushed you actually were that he wouldn’t be returning tonight. Twirling the coiled telephone cord around your pointer and attempting to lighten the mood, “I do. I know they’ll sign!” You boost, and hear his cute laugh drown with the static of the connection.

“Happy Anniversary,” he says sincerely, and you can tell that he genuinely feels bad for standing you up tonight, but at least he had the decency to call the place and let you know.

“Happy Anniversary,” you repeat then continue to let him speak. He promises you he’ll be back tomorrow and if everything goes as planned, he’ll spoil you with a trip, a little getaway for you both. It fills you with so much hope that after the exchanges of “I love you”, the call ends, and you’re feeling slightly better than you had minutes ago.

Make no mistake, you were still upset, letting your make-up, hair and dress go to waste. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to extend a trip. You thought you were used to it, but again, it was your anniversary. It knocked you down a bit that life was cruel enough to not let you have just this one thing.

As if that wasn’t enough, the sudden downpour was the cherry on top of it all as you were now left standing on the sidewalk, using your long dress coat as a makeshift umbrella, while waiting for a cab. You’d taken one earlier to the restaurant, but the idea was to go home with your husband in his car that he’d taken for the trip.

You contemplate for a few minutes to leave your post and head back towards the restaurant to stand under the awning for shade. With this much rain, you were doubting you’d be able to hail a cab anytime soon. The water seeps into your nice heels with each step through the puddles, water splashing against your legs, and the ends of your dress dripping.

Once under the tiny roof, you shake off the water on your coat before slipping your arms back through the sleeves and try to warm up as best as you can, while waiting for the rain to let up.

“Mr. Perfect stand you up, tonight?” You suddenly hear a voice pipe up next to you. The voice is smooth and a familiar one, and not just because it was prominent to the townspeople of Knockemstiff, but because you’ve heard it almost your whole life.

You turn to see Lee Bodecker, childhood friend and the town Sheriff, uniform-clad, badge slightly fogged from the moisture of the weather but still as shiny as ever on his left breast pocket and topped with his campaign hat.

“Hey, Lee,” you greet him, ignoring the comment about your husband, as he lights a cigarette.

He always called him that and hardly ever by his first name. Even physically around the man, he’d resort to calling him by his last name and you’re not sure if it’s because there was something personal between them or where you all stood in life, but surely them having known each other since high school you’d think there would be no need for formalities amongst...friends? Acquaintances? Whatever they were to each other, they weren’t strangers.

You’d lived in Knockemstiff your whole life and was around the same age as Lee. You grew up going to the same school, church, camps...he was a constant in your life. You liked to think he was a friend. He on the other hand liked to think more. He always wanted more than what he already had.

“You look nice tonight,” he compliments before blowing out a cloud of smoke into the stuffy air.

“Thanks, but no,” you begin explaining why you ended up alone tonight, “he’s having to extend his business trip,” not like you owed it to him or anything, but you suppose it wouldn’t hurt to kill time talking to an old friend.

“You sure it’s not something else…” he trails off while looking forward, not paying mind to your bewildered expression. Of course, you’d think that was the most outlandish idea. He knew you were madly in love with your dear husband and he would never think twice about him cheating on you. The two of you were just too perfect. It was almost sickening to him.

“He would never!” Your voice raised, but not as to shout out at him, but loud enough to appear insulted and defensive. Your arms crossed over your chest, upset that he would insinuate your husband would be unfaithful to you. You trusted him and he trusted you, that’s what made the dream work.

“I’m not saying he would,” he says flicking the white stick of the ashes on the end, “...would be a damn fool to,” the last bit more to himself before taking another drag.

If he thought you didn’t catch the last part, he was wrong. You weren’t completely oblivious to Lee’s advances, no matter how little they were. People talked, your husband especially, noting the soft spot the Sheriff had for you. He was always nice to you and you didn’t think any harm of him. He was rough around the edge, but that’s how he had to be. Plus, he was married, and your heart was spoken for.

“How’d you know I was even here?” You ask curiously. How did he know your husband was a no show tonight?

“Think I’m some stalker?” He jokes, a grin spreads across his features, and you blush embarrassed you’d made it sound as if he was a creep, “I was hungry and heard this place was nice.”

He was in there? You’d been people watching the whole time you were inside, and not once did you recall spotting Lee at a table. You shrug that thought aside, settling with the fact that he was a trained official, and it was his job to blend in and keep a watchful eye.

“I wouldn’t know,” your remark sounding a tad bit petty. You didn’t get to eat anything on the menu aside from the free bread. A few more seconds go by, before he speaks again, waiting for the uncomfortable topic of your date being cancelled tonight to pass.

“You’re never going to catch a cab in this weather,” he points out, tossing the rest of his cigarette onto the soiled ground and stomping on it. He hears you let out a big sigh knowing he’s right. “Come on. My car’s not too far,” he offers, his head cocked to the side in the direction of the lot.

The last thing you wanted to appear as was helpless, but that’s what you were in this moment. Spirits down, soaked and stranded. You shrug your coat off again to cover your head before reluctantly accepting his offer, not noticing the wicked curvature of his lips on his pudgy face.

He wasn’t having dinner inside that restaurant at all. He was aware that your wedding anniversary was tonight, and had your husband been able to attend, Lee got some sort of sick pleasure in tormenting him in front of you, even with something as silly as bringing up a past memory unfavorable to your beloved, and luck seemed to be on Lee’s side tonight.

Lee knew where you lived. He’d visited a few times from the outside, and as an official he knew the town almost like the back of his own hand. The rain seemed persistent by the second. You could make a run for it up the steps of your front porch into the safety of your home, but you knew how bad the roads could get on a stormy night. Lee didn’t leave you stranded tonight, and you wouldn’t feel right leaving him stranded in his police car overnight.

You hang your coat on the nearby rack by the front door and extend the courtesy to Lee, who hands you his hat and worn-out leather jacket. He slips off his wet shoes, not wanting to leave a trail of muddy prints in the pristine home. It was a beautiful house. You kept it nice and clean, it was basically a model home. Lee couldn’t help the scowl on his face, while your back was turned to him as he followed you deeper into the house, just thinking about how your husband won again. His home couldn’t compare to what he gave you.

After stowing away your heels in the closet, trading them for a comfy pair of house slippers, you tell Lee to make himself comfortable in the living room, while you disappear into the kitchen to make a quick snack. You opt for a nice variety of meats, cheese, crackers and some fruit on a small charcuterie board.

When you returned to the living room, Lee had been inspecting the artifacts that decorated your home. The framed photos of you and your husband, his bright smile almost mocking him as he glared at it. He’d sure like to knock that smug son of a bitch stiff himself, alright. Other items that scattered the home were of the souvenirs from his trips, tiny religious figures, and other trinkets that made the home your own. Oh, you had it made, he thought.

Lee never liked your husband. He believed he was well on his way to snagging you, until he moved into town that year during high school, and when you both met, people called it love at first sight. Lee felt like he was always out bested by him, he one-upped Lee in almost everything. It was ridiculous, but it wounded his male ego, and even up to now, with the kind of power he possessed, he still felt like he came in second place and your husband ultimately won because he had you - the real prize.

He does his best to maintain his composure at the sight of your exposed cleavage, the dress you wore accentuated your bust nicely, as he turns around just in time to see you bent down to place the board on the coffee table. When you come back up, you offer him a seat on the couch.

“Got anything nice to drink around here?” He asks, and you mentally scold yourself for not being a good hostess and initially offering him a beverage upon arrival. You list out a plethora of usual choices, water, coffee, tea, a bottle of pop even, but he was looking for something hard. Neither you or your husband were heavy drinkers, so you didn’t stock up on liquor, but tonight was supposed to be special, so technically you had something.

“Well, I do have this nice bottle of wine, but…” your words trailing off. You probably wouldn’t be able to enjoy it anytime soon. If your husband successfully closed the deal tomorrow, he’d probably be thrust with more responsibilities and longer hours, before you two could escape on that getaway he promised to take you on. “...I was saving it for my anniversary tonight,” the words come out pathetically and you curse yourself for even mentioning you had the bottle and its purpose, but you were awful at lying.

He lets out a tiny scoff, no doubt amused on being reminded that Mr. Perfect couldn’t be here to rightfully celebrate your union. “There’s no use letting it go to waste, right?” He says, it was almost effortless on his part, like his whole domineering appearance made people bend to his every will.

“I guess you’re right,” you agree and turn back around to grab the pricey bottle and two glasses. It was a little weird at first, drinking with an official of the law, but he did his best to make it feel more like two friends catching up over drinks.

Suppose it had been the effects of the alcohol, you were definitely not a frequent drinker, but it made you feel more at ease and open enough to get through the night with your guest. Lee knows very well that you’ve been a good girl your whole life. The girl next door. An angel in his eyes, who attended church regularly and lent a helping hand to the community, he knew with his track record you’d never settle or trade the life you had now to be with his sorry ass. Not to mention, he let himself go after his marriage to Florence; he’d settled that was for sure.

He kept tabs on you, more than of the suspects he’d be tipped about. You figured he was just dedicated to his job and not much of his seemingly harmless rounds around your usual routes. It wasn’t a big town after all; you ran into people all the time.

With your legs folded underneath you, the alcohol settled itself in your system enough for you to relax, not realizing your dress had ridden up, so much that if Lee were to just recline a few inches back, he’d get a peak of your panties. The food and bottle of wine halfway through, Lee started probing into your personal life. Was everything all that it cracked out to be? Were you really happy with your husband? What did he have to do?

He works his way cleverly in conversation. Starting with old memories of growing up together and embarrassing high school moments, before asking the more personal ones. The elicited memories served as a blanket of faux trust, to get you to confine him. Good old Lee, you’ve shared countless memories with him, you could trust him, right?

You didn’t realize you’d drunkenly admit how you’re ready to start a family with your husband, but the thought of his impending promotion would halt the idea. Maybe he wasn’t ready just yet. You’re alone at home for the majority of the day, you were ready and were getting tired of waiting, but you made a vow to do whatever it takes to make this marriage last even if it meant putting a pause on things you wanted.

Lee notices the wistful look that washed over your delicate features. On the outside you were happy, but on the inside, you yearn for more. A better life outside of Knockemstiff, with a more devoted husband and someday soon a baby in the picture. No doubt, he would’ve given you that immediately...

“I’d never leave yo-” he quickly catches his slip-up, before recovering, “Florence. I’d never leave my wife alone, especially on our own wedding anniversary,” he says, voice growing almost husky, and suddenly you’re uneasy at the close proximity between you two.

You could even smell the alcohol on his breath, see the way it made his lips shine, staining it a deeper shade of red. You remain unmoving for a moment, like you’re hypnotized by his alluring blue eyes. You thought they were rather nice, very different from your husband’s eyes. Your mind clouded, you started convincing yourself of something you’d never felt before, an attraction to Lee Bodecker.

It was absolutely not a match made in Heaven, but Lee always wanted a taste, and you were the embodiment of forbidden fruit. He notices your glossy eyes but thinks nothing of it. You’re scared, scared to break your sacred vows, ashamed of yourself for thinking about someone in another light other than your husband.

Not wanting to turn this into a pity party or even think about what would happen if you didn’t cut the tension now, you excuse yourself and keep busy by cleaning up the remnants of your “dinner” and pick up the charcuterie board to take back to the kitchen and begin cleaning up. The slight wobble in your step indicates you’re almost gone and would have to call it a night.

In your absence, Lee fishes out a tiny plastic bag he had stashed with him from a previous bust. Some stupid teenage party, and with his power, it meant he had access to all the confiscated substances the precinct collected. He decides to pour you both another glass but pays special attention to yours. When he hears the rush of water from the kitchen, he takes advantage of the stalled time to slip and allow the drug to settle in your glass, careful to measure just enough based on your body mass, so as to at least keep you conscious.

When you reappear, Lee stands up, glass in each hand, yours outstretched to you. You want to refuse, knowing your limit, but not wanting to be a downer, you give in and accept the doomed glass.

“To wedded bliss?” Lee toasts to you and your husband, raising his glass slightly up towards yours, to which you force a smile and clink the cup ware together.

Two gulps in, your head starts spinning, and you blink your eyes a couple of times to keep your line of vision straight, but it doesn’t. Lee sets his glass back down on the coffee table and swoops right in, an arm cradling the small of your back to keep you steady before you stumble to the floor. He grabs your glass and sets it next to his, still holding you close, your hands are covering your face as if to wipe off the effects of the alcohol.

“You alright there, gorgeous?” He asks with a light pep in his voice as if he found some humor in this. He certainly did. You were a lightweight and it wouldn’t take long for him to finally get what he’s always wanted. It couldn't have been more of a blessing in disguise that you were left all alone, vulnerable on this particular night of your life. The devil always works harder…

“Yeah, I-I think I just need to lie down,” you say disoriented. Eyelids heavy, you try to focus on Lee’s concerned face, your hands settled on his chest.

“Then let’s get you to your bed so you can rest properly,” he nods before taking your hands in his calloused ones. He reveled in how soft they were and how nice they’d feel wrapped around his cock, tugging him until he came undone.

“It’s okay, Lee,” you attempt to thwart his plan and remove your hands from his. A part of you had some sensibility to remind you that your bedroom was sacred, and no one else, especially another man that wasn’t your husband should be left alone with you in it, “I-I can...m-make it there on...m-my own,” you struggle in convincing him.

“I’m not so sure you can, sweetheart,” he starts to reason, “just let me help you,” and then pulls your body back to prevent you from falling again. You let out a strange noise, which causes him to laugh. You stagger in guiding him to the master bedroom, but soon enough he’s successfully laid you on top of the large bed.

As soon as your body hit the mattress, you felt weightless, almost as if you were floating in the clouds. Nothing hurt and nothing mattered, it felt kind of good, suppose that’s why some people abused certain drugs. It wasn’t until you felt a pair of rough hands running up the length of your thighs, dangerously close to the hem of your dress.

“What?” You speak out ever so confused, hands coming down on his wrists to stop him from traveling further up.

“Relax, babe,” Lee says as tender as he could be, your hands weakening their hold, “I just want you to feel comfortable in your own bed.” He was crossing a line and had you been able to think clearly, you’d have kicked him out, but Lee didn’t even entertain that possibility at all. What were you going to do? Call the cops? He was the law. No one would believe you.

“I-I,” you stutter profusely, “I don’t think you should be...doing that,” you manage to say, his hands long gone under your dress, grabbing the sides of your hips, hands full of your flesh. You weren’t going to lie, it felt nice to be touched again, but as soon as Lee started to lean in, your legs bent up to block him, your body still playing in defense over him. His hands reemerge from your dress and settle themselves on top of your knees.

“Lee, I-,” all words disappear from you, you can’t seem to find them or the strength to enforce them, especially when he parts your legs, climbing into bed with you, he maneuvers his body to settle in between, and he’s careful to not crush you with his weight.

“What is it, baby?” He asks, then tests the waters by planting featherweight kisses on the skin of your exposed cleavage that’d been teasing him all night, “What do you want?” Each kiss burns, but the substances flowing through your veins turns it into sheer pleasure that you start to lust for more.

His lips make their path up the column of your neck, until their ghosting right above yours. Your breaths mingled with one another, eyes staring at the small gap between your lips. Your mouth opens and you try to speak, but nothing comes out. Lee however takes the initiative and closes the space, his tongue wasting no time delving right in.

When the muscle makes contact with yours, you’re not sure what to do at first. A part of you wanted to voice out that you’d wanted him to kiss you, relieve you of the frustration, and the other part wanted to demand he get off. You were always faithful to your husband, the initial shock needed to pass by first.

Lee notices your frozen state, and coaxes against your lips, “don’t fight it, baby,” his hands wander and explore all the fields of your body, “you deserve to feel good...I can make you feel good...better than he ever could.”

Your head starts to turn to the side, your willpower isn't going down yet still putting up a fight against this act of sin, but their efforts fail as he forcibly grips you by the chin, directing you back to his lips. The kiss is sloppy on his part as you’d still manage to not reciprocate his affections.

“You’re allowed to feel good, doll,” and by some unexplained phenomena, it was as if his words gave you the push, the permission, to give in to temptation.

When he’s sure you’re locked in place, he lets his hand loose to grope at and knead your breasts through the material of your dress. Your lips started to relax and move against his. His handy work causes you to sigh through your nose and it encourages him to slide the straps down your shoulder, pull at the top of your dress, and yank at your bra, allowing your breasts to spill out.

The skin-to-skin contact causes an abrupt jolt to course through you as you involuntarily arch up into his body. Your sensitive nipples rolling in between the pads of his fingertips, causes your breathing to hitch. Lee tears his lips away from yours to take a gander at your exposed top half, and he audibly swears at the very sight. That son of bitch husband of yours, keeping you housed practically all day, away from anyone. He can’t entirely blame him there, he’d want no one to get any ideas of you behind closed doors either. At least they could agree on one thing - you.

Breathless, you start tugging at the end of his tie, desperate to feel his lips back on yours, and he doesn’t disappoint, going in for a bruising kiss. Your hands unwittingly start undoing the knot at the front of his neck, unbutton the top of his shirt, but he stops them, and pins them at the sides of your head. He was going to leave his clothes on for now, not sure if you’d be turned off by him - drugged or not.

You let out a whine and stare up at him with big, pleading eyes. The smirk on his lips, makes your stomach flip. You were losing this battle. You sealed your fate, there was no coming back from this now.

Lee ruts his hips forward, the rough material of his pants scraping against your delicate under garment, and you let out a guttural moan, his hard on evident and poking at you the more he does it because he loves each and every sound that escapes you.

He lets go of one of your hands and revisits an earlier task, slipping back underneath your dress. His fingers push aside the slit of your panties, enough to let him run his fingers through your unashamed wet folds. It was so wrong, but you couldn’t control the itch anymore. Lee hisses lightly, the effect he had on you all too evident.

His ministrations are slow and calculated, running his fingers up and down, your arousal coating his digits, rubbing small circles at the nub, and just right at the entrance. You inhale sharply when he slips a finger in, your hand still cuffed by his other, the intrusion causes your fingers to curl around his wrist, your nails slightly puncture his skin. You’d only been with your husband, and the comparison between him and Lee were indisputable.

He drags his finger back out before digging in again, this time almost knuckle deep. You bite your lip and stare back at his eyes that have turned dark, almost black, full of desire. He’s all but enamored by every bit of reaction he pulls out of you. He’s judging by the looks of it, your husband didn’t think out of the box, wasn’t exciting enough. What a bore, he thought. A woman like you, deserved to feel all sorts of pleasure. And you felt incredibly tight around his digit alone, he could hardly wait to bury his cock inside you.

“That feels good, huh, baby?” He pretends to ask, but he knows it does. It’s written all over you, you’re breathing deeper, eyes closed, intensified by ecstasy just running through you. Nonetheless, you nod in response, and it turns him on even more at how obedient you are.

“You want to feel more?” He tempts you. Your eyes flutter open and look at him again, faces close once more, the tip of his nose nudging your own. Growing impatient with your answer, without warning he curls his finger inside and lightly scratches at your walls.

“Yes, yes!” You say, stunned by the sudden trick, but also loving it.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, right before reclaiming your lips with his. Your complete and utter mush underneath him, his kiss sends your mind in a frenzy. Your hands fisting at his short hair, any trace of inhibition completely leaves your body.

He pulls you into an upright position, lips never parting only for the brief seconds when he pulls your rumpled dress over your head. Your bra casted aside, hanging on the edge of the bed, closest to your husband’s side as if to mock him.

You attempt to untuck his shirt, pulling roughly at the material, Lee laughs at your eagerness. It’s all but muffled as your other hand, at the nape of his neck, pulls him impossibly closer to you, lips moving feverishly on his. The faint stubble on his face burning the corner of your lips and jaw, a sharp contrast between your husband, who kept a clean-shaven face.

Lee parallels your legs to easily pull your panties down, then gets between them once more before pushing you to back down on the bed. You lie there, watching him hovering over you, your eyes travel down his large body and are mesmerized on his hands working to unbuckle his pants. He leans into you again, and kicks his pants off, the thud of the metal belt clanking on the bedroom door serves as an indicator.

You daringly, sneak your hands down south and grip his hard cock through his boxers, catching Lee off guard. Your heart pounded heavily in your ears, all you could hear was the sound of blood rushing as you felt, firsthand, at what you’d be dealing with tonight. It only increased your appetite and sexual curiosity.

Palming him, you start to gauge at the length and girth, but you didn’t want to leave the rest of the imagination, so you reach in and pull his member out, the tip already leaking with pre-cum, staining your palms. He bucks into your hands and you both let out sighs of pleasure when you start rubbing the bulbous head of his cock on your soaking cunt.

Lee swats your hands away, wanting to be in control again. He rids himself of his boxers, tosses the end of his tie over his shoulder and on his back, and picks up the flaps of his police shirt. He does all this to give you both a clear view of his cock as he slowly sinks into your wet channel.

As soon as he disappears inside, so deep you feel the underside of his clothed belly against your lower body, Lee looks up at you, desperate to see your expression, getting off at how good he made you feel. Your head thrown back, lost between the fluffy pillow you were resting on, mouth hung wide out. He was so much bigger, and Lee knew then that he won in at least one other aspect of their little battles.

You gripped him like a vice, your body not used to this kind of intrusion. He moved in-and-out slowly, the tear from each stretch of his thick cock gradually became less painful. Lee studies your facial features, waiting patiently as the creases between your eyebrows start to disappear, and your breathing turns from choking on air to puff sighs and breathy moans.

Your thighs start to loosen and the walls that grip around his hard member relaxes, your eyes peer open again and get a glimpse of the work. You start whimpering at how just as good it looked than it felt. Lee snaps his hips hard the next time, now that the worst part has passed.

As much as he’d rather plow you deep into the mattress at a fast pace, he also wanted to savor the feeling of your warm walls, squeezing him just right for as long as he could last. Who knows when he’d be able to get you alone again? Maybe he should stop by more when Mr. Perfect was out on another business trip.

His thrusts back in are long and hard, a strangled noise escaping you each time, only fuels him. He picks himself up, resting his body weight on his knees, he hooks his arms underneath your legs and pulls your body upwards, your ass resting on top of his thighs. You grip at the bedsheets, a corner popping off, as the new position allows his cock to probe at different areas inside you. It didn’t take long for you to convulse around him, wrecked with euphoria from the orgasm.

Your legs falling slack in his arms when you come down slow. It was apparent, you hadn’t had it that good in a while or Lee would peg, ever, just convinced he was a better lover in bed than your husband. He was wrong before; you could have it so much better with him. Lee reaches over to caress your face, skin hot and cheeks flushed, but the touch provides a sense of comfort and tenderness.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says blown away by the sight of you overcome with pleasure, and spread open, completely bare for him. His eyes scanning your body from your head to where you both were connected.

That’s when he notices it. His hand travels down and braces itself on top of your belly, right where his dick poked, feeling the slight bulge. The mere thought of you swollen riled him up. If you wanted a baby, he’d give you one. You didn’t need to ask if he was ready or not, he’d give you however many you desired.

“You want to be a mommy so bad, dontchu?” his voice all gruff and thrusts picking up speed, “I’ll give you a baby,” he promises and continues to pound into you, tenderness a thing in the past. It was now all about his climax and living up to his new promise.

“Huh?” you question, a sense of knowing creeping back in when he says this, “no, no, please don’t,” you start begging, legs trying to kick him off before he cums inside, “Lee,” your pleading hopeless and futile against him as his hips ram into yours forcibly, no doubt you’d be incredibly sore in the morning at the sudden roughness. It gave him a thrill to fuck you in the same place where you and your husband slept.

His lips litter wet kisses all over your exposed neck, you pay no attention to it as the tears stream down the corner of your eyes, burn your ears, and you’re exactly what you hoped to not appear as, completely helpless. The death grip he has around your waist holds you still long enough for your body to absorb every drop of his seed. You hadn’t realized your hands were braced against his sweaty shirt as if to attempt to push him off, but he was much stronger than you, they formed into clutching onto handfuls of the material instead as you felt his load shoot into your womb.

For a few minutes, Lee stays put, still inside of you, trying to remember how you feel around him. He filled you to the brim, as some of the mixed juices pooled around the base. Lee lets out a low groan, as your walls involuntarily contract around him, like you’re trying to suck him back in as he slowly pulls out.

He collapses on your husband’s side of the bed, but just before he does, he reaches down at his discarded pants on the floor for the carton of cigarettes in one of the pockets, the lighter in the other. When he’s back in a reclining position, a few drags in, he looks over the opposite of him, and studies you.

Your body shining with a thin layer of sweat, hair matted and stuck on parts of your face, your breathing had seemed to regulate once more. It might as well appear that you were sleeping and not recovering from a good fucking.

“You still with me, doll?” He asks for safe measure before lightly tapping the sides of your face. When you make no protest or movement at all, he mentally applauds himself for a job well done. You’d sleep through the night and he’d be long gone before your husband returned.

By now, the rain had since died down, roads were safe for driving, and well into the late-night hours. Lee finished his cigarette and decided it was time to tidy up and make his exit. He’d set the scene as if you’d been drinking alone tonight. He carefully slipped your clothes back on, tenderly wiped you, and even cleaned the glass you were drinking from earlier, to rid of any traces of sludge, in the kitchen sink. He did everything to make sure there were no holes in this plan.

Before Lee leaves you, he stares at your sleeping fame. So sweet, he says to himself, while tracing the outline of your lips with his finger then leaning down to feel them soft against his for one final taste.

The next morning you hear your name being called out repeatedly, and even with the slight pounding ache on the side of your head and remaining grogginess, you recognize the voice to be of your husband’s. He was back, and you regrettably attempt to sit up to welcome him home with loving arms, but the sudden and quick movements only increase the drumming in your head.

“Whoa, take it easy, babe,” he says, gently resting his arms on yours and pushing you back down on the bed, “looks like you had a long night,” he comments.

“What?” You ask why he’d think that. You don’t remember much of last night other than him cancelling on your wedding anniversary...and the very vivid dream you had about Lee Bodecker. Yeah, too vivid it made your stomach flip, but also it felt all too real except it couldn’t be. You’d never sleep with another and break your vow and he was a married man.

He figured you’d have trouble remembering, but he explains that he found the opened bottle of wine, you’d saved for the both of you, the stained glass next to it on the coffee table, and you passed out in bed still in your dress. It was then you noticed you were still in last night’s attire, so any wild thoughts that crossed your mind earlier of infidelity were scratched out.

“I thought something was wrong,” he expresses worriedly.

“Why would there be anything wrong?” You ask now confused. Despite the dull ache in your lower region, you were in the safety of your home, and you didn’t have a history of drinking heavily before, so last night was just a fluke.

He starts informing you of how your kind and elderly neighbor had noticed a sheriff’s vehicle parked in front of your house for a few hours, “…said she’d gotten worried something had happened to you when she saw the car...” he pauses, a hint of annoyance on his face at his next words, “...but said once she saw Lee step out, she knew you’d be safe, and well, I can’t disagree with her on that. Lee would never let anything happen to you.”

You didn’t even pay attention to his last few words, too caught up when he revealed Lee was in fact here last night. The idling, dull ache now suddenly growing, and you do your best to swallow down the small bile rising in your throat at the revelation that confirmed your suspicions. The dream you had about Lee couldn’t have been a dream, but reality. Not only had you committed adultery, you were ashamed of the heat between your legs at the flashback of how good he made you feel.

You knew you’d never consent to such a thing. Was this a case of sexual assault? And could it be classified as one if you were just as willing? It confused you greatly, not wanting to believe Lee manipulated you to having sex with him. You couldn’t recall any part of how it began, where he had done something wrong other than also cheating on his wife. Oh, poor Florence, you thought to yourself and it only added to the headache.

“I guess I owe him some form of gratitude for making sure you’re okay,” he says reluctantly, almost a little pained and forced, “oh honey, don’t strain yourself,” he advises, nursing your obvious hangover.

He’d mistaken the look of sheer horror and internal heartache for illness. Like the doting husband he was, he helped you slip into something comfortable and less restricting before heading into the kitchen to fix you up something light to eat.

As you laid there in the tainted bed, you prayed for forgiveness. You lived your life carefully and to your best ability, morally, how could this have plagued you? Was there an appropriate way to confess your infidelity to your husband? He wouldn’t tolerate it, you knew that much, and you wouldn’t blame him for leaving you.

The thought of a life without him scared you, but not as much as the possibility of a life that wasn’t a product of your love growing inside of you.

A/N: Yeah, I don’t even know. I’ve been reading a couple of Lee Bodecker fics and I was tempted. Thanks for reading! Please give this a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed!

#mrwinterr writes #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker smut #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #tdatt fic #tdatt imagine #the devil all the time

168 notes · View notes

cyhyr · 2 years

Text

The Eighth Day of Whumpmas:

Drugged

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: T

Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka

WC: ~2110

Warnings: Rape/Non-con (kind of)

Additional Tags: alcohol, past abuse, Consent King Kakashi, anxiety attack, realizations, married KakaIru

A/N: sorry this wasn't posted at my normal time. I got my kid her first dose of the Covid vaccine so tonight's been a bit hectic. If you know me and my writing, I'm sure you'll know exactly who the past abuser is. There is no actual non-con in this fic, but I'm tagging it to be safe!

Tagging: @kelkage @atereal

Anyone else who wants in on the tag list lemme know!

“‘To my dearest rival and the love of his life, with the hopes of many youthful years to come,’” Kakashi reads off the note attached to the bottle of wine left on his desk. He smiles and holds it up to Iruka, who smiles crookedly and crosses his arms. Kakashi continues, “It’s nice that Gai cared enough to drop something off while we were gone, ne?”

“Gai would have followed us to the coast if I hadn’t told him I wanted time alone with you,” Iruka says. “You’re very lucky to have such a great friend.”

Kakashi groans, but there’s no heat and honestly he’s smiling under his mask. “I know.” He tucks the bottle under his arm and quickly checks the rest of the notes left on his desk before determining that they all can wait until morning. When he’s officially back from vacation.

And gods what a vacation it was. The image of Iruka on the beach will never leave his mind, Sharingan or not. And if he just so happens to feel himself begin to forget, Iruka seemed to have enjoyed himself enough that convincing him to go back in another few years shouldn’t be difficult at all. Maybe they can shoot for a third honeymoon for their ten-year anniversary.

He offers his hand to Iruka and says, “Shall we go home?”

Iruka takes his hand, and only then does Kakashi notice the faintest tremor in his spouse’s arm. He cocks his head aside in question, but Iruka laughs and huddles in close. “Sorry, I’m just a bit chilly. I got too used to the warmth of the coast, I think.”

Kakashi wraps his arm around Iruka’s waist and pulls him tight to his side. They start walking. “Then let’s go home and I can warm you up, hmm?”

Iruka chuckles and leans in to kiss his cheek, just above his mask. Then he glances down at the bottle of wine in his arm and asks, “What’s the plan with that?”

He answers, “Well, I figure a glass or two of this and we’ll both be plenty warm. And Gai did get it for us to toast our anniversary, so I think we should take this last night of our vacation and toast away.”

Iruka nods and smiles at him, so it must be a good plan.

They’ve been together for seven years, married for five, and Iruka’s been very careful to avoid alcohol around Kakashi. Not that he can’t drink or that he doesn’t want to; but he remembers what happens when he drinks and that’s something that he never wants to experience with Kakashi. He always has water if they go to bars with their friends, or a soda at restaurants—he even convinced Kakashi to agree to a dry wedding, just so that he didn’t have to explain to anyone else why he wasn’t sharing a dish of sake with his new spouse on their first day as a married couple.

But he’s not sure he can talk his way out of this one. Maybe he can postpone the inevitable, but someday soon Kakashi will break out this wine and pour them both a glass and Iruka—

He could say he doesn’t like alcohol. But he doesn’t want to lie to Kakashi; he does like it, he just doesn’t like what tends to happen after a couple of drinks.

Iruka follows Kakashi through the genkan and into the kitchen, and stands by as he pours them both a glass. Kakashi hands him one, pulls down his mask, and says, “As Gai said, to the love of my life; may we have many more celebrations just like this one.”

He lifts his glass and Iruka feels his face flush a little as he also lifts his glass and then they both drink and—

Look, he knows Gai would never try to drug either of them. And he knows that Kakashi would never purposely get him drunk just to… But that doesn’t change how the alcohol burns down his throat and curdles in his stomach and he’s suddenly feeling unwell. He takes another drink, and another, until the glass is gone and he sets it down empty on the kitchen counter. It was good, but one glass is enough.

Kakashi smirks over the rim of his glass. “That was fast. Still trying to warm up?”

Iruka tries to smile and hopes his nerves don’t come across. Kakashi reaches for the bottle and pours him another half glass.

“Oh, really, one’s enough.”

“Are you sure? You’re not going back to work for another three days,” Kakashi says.

And… he’s right, while Kakashi needs to return to being the village leader tomorrow, Iruka doesn’t return to the Academy for another few days. He… he could have one more.

So they get to talking about their future, and the future of the village, and this and that and all sorts of things. And the second glass turns into three—four—and then the bottle’s empty. He whines a little, watching Kakashi put the empty bottle into the recycling bin.

His stomach hurts. He knows he’s drunk, and he hasn’t felt this way since he was a teenager making bad decisions with—

He reaches out and takes Kakashi’s hands, falls lips first into Kakashi’s face, and feels his spouse chuckle as they begin to kiss clumsily. Iruka starts trying to step backwards, drawing Kakashi with him, knowing that the next place they need to go is the bedroom. Because that’s what always happens next. First he drinks, and then he gets fucked.

“Slow down, love,” Kakashi laughs. “You’ll trip.”

“Don’t care,” Iruka nips Kakashi’s lip. “Want you.”

He brings Kakashi into the bedroom and pushes him to sit on the edge of the bed.

Kakashi leers as Iruka steps in-between his spread legs and ducks down to kiss him some more. His spouse is sexy, and he’s very clearly wanting; however, while he’s okay with looking, and even though he and Iruka have a standing statement of consent, right now Iruka’s drunk and can’t consent. So Kakashi keeps his hands on Iruka’s waist and accepts his kisses and knows that this is as far as he’s going to let this go.

Iruka stops kissing him, whining, and says, “Why aren’t you touching me?”

He strokes his palms up and down Iruka’s sides. “I am touching you.”

“You don’t—that’s not.” He groans, clearly frustrated, and Kakashi laughs. He tries to pull Iruka back in for more kisses, but his spouse steps back and reaches for the hem of his shirt.

He looks on hungrily as Iruka’s chest is bared for him and thinks: gods, he’s so lucky Iruka chose him.

“I need you,” Iruka says, unbuttoning his pants and starting to slide them down his legs, “to fuck me.”

Kakashi’s mouth dries out as he watches more and more skin be revealed. Like they were back to being newlyweds. But there’s a line here between assumption of spousal consent and alcohol-influenced rape and he’s not going anywhere near that line. So he tamps down on his own arousal and looks up at Iruka, holds up a hand and says, “Not tonight, Love. Let’s sleep this off and see how we’re feeling in the morning.”

But Iruka. He very nearly looks close to tears, hearing that. He shakes his head, screws up his face and says, “No, please, you have to fuck me. Please, I’ll—anything, please. Just put me on my knees and take me.”

Kakashi swallows hard and presses the heel of his hand into his crotch because damn he loves it when Iruka starts begging. They’ve played this game before and it never fails to turn him on.

But… but something’s not quite right. He can’t put his finger on it, but somethings—

Iruka slips down to his knees and slides back between Kakashi’s legs, looking up at him through his lashes and says, “Please, please, I’ll be good,” as he starts fumbling with Kakashi’s pants. He’s struck dumb and still as Iruka fishes his dick out and continues, “I’ll hold myself open if you want, I’ll choke on your dick, I’ll take you dry, just please fuck me.”

There.

That’s not Iruka.

Kakashi takes his wrists and pulls his hands away from his crotch. He holds both Iruka’s wrists with one hand and uses the other to tip his chin up to look at him. “Stop, Iruka. What are you doing?”

There’s a sheen of sweat shining on his forehead, and they didn’t drink enough for him to sweat but Iruka’s voice hitches and his eyes start watering as he repeats himself, saying, “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Kakashi lowers himself to the floor so he’s eye-level with Iruka, and cups his face with both hands. Iruka’s own hands drop to his lap; as long as he doesn’t start trying to touch Kakashi again, they’re fine. “What’s going on?” he mutters, trying so hard to keep his own voice steady. Gai didn’t poison the wine—Kakashi didn’t drink as much as Iruka did, but he trusts Gai. With his and Iruka’s life. But this abrupt change in Iruka is scaring him, as he glances between each of Iruka’s eyes trying to implore his spouse to talk to him.

Iruka’s holding back tears and his breath starts coming fast and uneven; and even if he hadn’t ever experienced an anxiety attack on his own he’d know what was happening. He brings Iruka’s face to his own, kisses his forehead, nuzzles their noses together, and asks once more, “Love? What’s going on?”

Iruka starts shaking and Kakashi shifts his hold from his face to his shoulders, to his arms.

“This isn’t. This.” His voice hitches on a swallowed sob. “I thought you wanted me.”

“Love, I do. I love you, I always want you—but not when you’re drunk. Your consent is the sexiest thing you give to me, and you can’t—”

“No, no, nonono,” Iruka reaches up and presses his fingers into his temple. “This isn’t right, something’s not—why won’t you fuck me, please, I’ll be good.”

Kakashi reaches behind himself with one hand and pulls down the coverlet, wrapping it around Iruka’s shoulders. He pulls Iruka to his chest and rocks them side-to-side, making gentle shushing noises. “You’re okay. I know you’re good, you’re always good for me, love. But I’m not—not tonight. You’re always safe with me, I promise. But I don’t want this tonight.”

He babbles on and on, trying desperately to reassure Iruka that they’re not going to have sex tonight and that it’s okay. All the while Iruka cries against his shoulder, shaking and sobbing through his anxiety attack and scrambling to be as close as possible to Kakashi. He doesn’t stop Iruka from seeking out this kind of touch, as he holds him tighter and kisses his hair, his temple, his brow. Iruka eventually cries himself asleep, and Kakashi ensures that he’s wrapped up snuggly before he picks Iruka up and puts him to bed.

Normally, this would be when he would strip down, too, and lay beside Iruka to hold him until morning, but now he’s unsure if he even should. Instead he kneels beside the bed and brushes his fingers through Iruka’s hair and smoothes his thumb across the frown lines on his face. He does this until he’s sure that Iruka’s in a deep sleep, and then goes out into the kitchen.

There’s a small cabinet of alcohol, and he empties it. There’s not much, and he realizes now that they’re all bottles Kakashi himself had bought and drank from. How did he get seven years into this relationship and only now realize that Iruka’s never drank around him before? He pours out each bottle and watches it all flow down the drain.

This night won’t ever happen again. If this is how Iruka gets when he’s drunk, then Kakashi will help him remain sober for the rest of their lives.

When he’s done, he returns to the bedroom and sits down on the floor beside the bed. He’ll stay up all night, just in case Iruka wakes and is still…

But then fingertips brush his shoulder and the back of his neck and he looks back at Iruka—he’s still asleep, but his face is furrowed like he’s worried. Then Iruka lightly twists his fingers in Kakashi’s hair and his face relaxes and he sighs in his sleep. Kakashi smiles, his heart aching. He won’t touch Iruka again tonight, but maybe… maybe he can just hold his hand. Just until morning.

He takes his hand and smiles at Iruka’s unconscious, happy hum.

#amow twelve days of whumpmas #Drugged/poisoned #alcohol #past abuse #anxiety attack #kakairu #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #my writing

19 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

Indruck 22 for the meet uglies?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one

you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship

“...such a waste of money. I mean, why spend all that to get something tacky on your skin?”

Indrid rolls his eyes at Barclay from across the counter of the Amnesty Lodge coffee shop, the cooks arms and hands sporting a plethora of tattoos rivaled only by Indrid’s collection.

“I dunno, l like the one I got.” The other man--who seems to be on the worst first date of his life--shrugs.

“You honestly think you and Juno couldn’t have spent that money on something else in college?”

“I mean maybe but, uh, we were earnin our own cash, figured we got to decide what to spend it on.”

“Hmmmm” the first guy sips his coffee, “sounds like a typical excuse for someone who doesn’t want to admit a mistake.”

“C’mon, that ain’t fair-”

“Ugh, stop saying ain’t! I can’t take someone who talks like that to meet my family.” Before the target of his disdain can respond, he snaps his fingers, “hey, buddy, can I get a refill or what?”

“The station for black coffee refills is right there, sir.” Barclay indicates the very obvious corner of dispensers, his voice the kind of calm that Indrid knows means he’s memorizing this guys face to warn other staff about.

They earn a brief reprieve while The Asshole leaves the table. When he returns, he’s shaking his head.

“God, have you looked at the photos they’ve got up? Who the fuck wants to look at bones?”

Indrid quickly glances at his friend to be sure he’s permitted to start a fight. Barclay nods.

“Quite a lot of people.” Indrid spins on his stool. “I’ve sold a number of them just from the display here. So perhaps you could keep your rude, unclultured, close-minded, obnoxious mouth shut.”

The man balks, looks to his companion for help. He offers none, mouth trying to form words and only coming out with halves of ones (except for the “fucks” which are plentiful).

“Oh my fucking god, you agree with him! That’s it, I’m out.” The Asshole pushes back from the table and storms out. The remaining man leaps up, panicked.

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay man, shitty first dates happen to all of us.” Barclay offers from beside the bakery case.

“I mean yeah, they do, but that wasn’t one of ‘em. That was my boyfriend of three fuckin years.” He dashes out of the shop, sparing a final glare at Indrid as he does.

Indrid trades a sheepish look with his friend, “Oops.”

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

“I’m glad you finally get to meet Duck!” Aubrey grins over her shoulder as she and Indrid wind down the hall at the office Kepler magazine.

Founded by childhood friends, Kepler worked a combination of print and video content that saw its subscribers and revenue climb while other publications struggled to stay afloat. Aubrey was head of the video team, though she contributed content to the magazine in the form of interviews about environmental activists of color and sustainable gift guides.

Kepler has three sections: travel, science, and environmental writing. Indrid now has the honor of being one of their primary photographers. He started two weeks ago and is thoroughly enjoying his work and the company of the other staff. The only person he’s yet to meet is Duck Newton, one of the founders and main reporters, as he was off on an assignment.

Aubrey knocks, gets a friendly “come in” and ushers Indrid into the office.

Looking at him from behind the desk is The Asshole’s Boyfriend, whose face goes from open and friendly to confused, then to perturbed.

“You okay?”

“I, uh, fuck, n-ye.” Duck sighs, “remember how I told you Alex and I split after a shitty date in a coffee shop?” He points at Indrid, “this was the fella who, uh, expedited the process.”

“Ohhhh.” Aubrey frowns, then shrugs with a smile, “whelp, he’s our new photographer. We’ll see you around.” She hurries them outside once more, shutting the doors. As they head back the way they came, she whispers, “his ex was a huge fucking dick, so if word gets out everyone is gonna think you’re a fucking hero.”

“He didn’t seem to see it that way.”

“It was only a few weeks ago, so it’s still pretty fresh. He’ll heal from it okay, Duck’s a tough cookie. And I’m sure you guys’ll get along eventually.”

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

“Juno, please, you gotta come with me.”

“I would bud, except it’s April and I’s fifth wedding anniversary that weekend. And no, we already have plans, so we can’t just take over this assignment as part of the celebration.”

“Fuck” Duck leans back in his chair.

“...You really asked everyone?”

“Ye-no, fuck-”

“Duck.”

“I ain’t asked Indrid yet.”

“There it is.” Juno smirks, “you gotta ask; besides, we were gonna have him do illustrations for the feature, but photos would be even better. And we both know it ain’t his fault y’all broke up.”

Duck nods, promises to ask Indrid after lunch. He finds the photographer flipping through his files from his shoot for next issues cover. His silver hair is pulled back, red glasses sitting on the desk beside him so he can gauge color correctly.

Duck kind of wants to pull the silver locks just to see what happens. It’s not his fault Indrid looks like his Sophomore roommate who he had a raging crush on, only with more tattoos and a much more captivating face. Pity he helped fuck up Duck’s last chance at a stable relationship.

“Hey, Indrid, you got a minute?”

The photographer cocks his head.

“I, uh, so we got a feature on this whole chunk of places touting themselves as ‘sustainable romantic getaways. I booked a bunch of places, but a lot of ‘em will turn me away if I turn up solo. And the person I was supposed to go with ain’t an option any more. Neither is anyone else. You get my drift?”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “you realize this is a terrible idea, yes?”

“Hey, we been workin together just fine. Ain’t we? Wait, fuck, I ain’t been treatin you bad even when I’m tryin to be professional, am I?”

“No, you’ve been perfectly polite. But there’s a world of difference between being cordial in an office and going on what’s functionally a vacation together.”

Duck crosses his arms, “I ain’t about to lose eight hundred bucks in deposits.”

Indrid blinks, then chuckles, “Fair. What day do we leave?”

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

The temperature rises and the air dries as they speed south on Five. Indrid fiddles with games on his phone as cover for the list of “will this be a disaster or not” he’s mentally constructing. So far the signs are positive; Duck isn’t very chatty, but neither is Indrid. They have similar tastes in music, which makes much more sense when Duck explains he was a burn-out in high school. He also isn’t agitated by Indrid stimming, which makes it easier for the photographer to relax and enjoy the drive.

But they haven’t spoken about the elephant in the car, and Indrid resolves not to be the first to do so. No point in poking the sore spot if he doesn’t have to.

They stop at a Sinclair for gas. Duck reaches into his glovebox for something as Indrid climbs out, comes away with a photo instead. It’s one of those ones from a photobooth, faded but unmistakably him and his ex. His face falls for a second and Indrid scurries into the Dairy Queen attached to the convenience store.

As he waits in line, he turns one fact over in his mind like a picture he’s trying to make sense of; it would be easier to let their awkward first meeting go if he did not genuinely like the other man. He’s charming, in a quiet way, and very friendly. He’s built like the guys Indrid always got useless crushes on in college, usually third tier frat boys or--if he was lucky--a bear a few years older than him who liked his men on the odd side.

He doesn’t like seeing Duck sad. The sadness isn’t something he can fix. The stalemate between these two facts annoy the living hell out of him.

He’s next in line, glances up to confirm what he wants, and gets an idea. Last week, he overheard Duck talking with Aubrey about roadtrip snacks of their youth.

“One chocolate dipped cone, on me.” He holds the treat out to the other man.

“Oh. Uh, thanks. These are my favorite from when I was a kid.” Duck’s smile returns.

“I remembered. Or, ah, that is, I remembered you saying that.”

The smile changes, “you didn’t need to.”

“I wanted to. Shall we?”

“Yep. Uh, you gonna be able to drive and eat that at the same time?”

“Do not doubt my ability to consume ice cream under difficult circumstances, Duck Newton.”

They make it to their first stop unscathed. It’s what Duck refers to as, “eco-bespoke,” a fancy spa and hotel built in a former school, the kind that was made in an era of beautiful instead of grim educational architecture.

“Goats!” Indrid claps his hands, delighted, at the two animals stabled near the main building. One of it’s supposed sustainable elements is the small farm that helps feed the on-site restaurant. Duck smirks and Indrid suddenly feels the gulf in their upbringings, “Ah, I suppose they’re not exciting to someone who grew up in a rural town.”

“Nah, but they’re damn cute.” Duck checks the tag on their room keys, “okay, we’re in the green building, room 2B.”

Indrid snaps some photos as they cross the grounds, more to remind himself of things he wants to come back to later than anything else. He’s busy studying a strange mark on the wall by their door when Duck says, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Why--oh” he stares at the single bed, “in retrospect, we should have seen this coming.”

“Yeah.” Duck drops his bag near the closet, slides the door to look for spare linens. Indrid summons his courage, finds it lacking, and so bolsters it with nonchalance.

“It’s a king, we could easily share.”

“You’d, uh, you’d be okay with that?”

“It is only narrow definitions of masculinity that mean something like sharing a bed is inherently sexual.”

He’s not entirely sure that made sense, but Duck nods, “You want the right side or left?”

“Right, please.”

“Great. And, uh, Indrid? Thanks for rollin with all this. I, uh, I know it’s fuckin weird but this is a huge feature for the magazine and we woulda been fucked if we had to pull it.”

Indrid gingerly sits on his side of the bed, “You’re welcome. And I don;t know about you, but” he smiles, catches Duck watching him intently in the mirror, “I’m enjoying myself so far.”

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

“Why has an activity that renders one incapable of using their thighs been deemed ‘romantic?” Indrid mumbles, face-down on the bed to offer his burning legs relief.

“Fuck if I know.” Duck groans as he sits next to him, “Kinda fun, but if I was doin this to get you in bed, I’d be fucked.”

“I am in bed” Indrid teases.

“And if I tried to put the moves of you you’d toss me outta it. Assumin I could even move myself that close.” Duck nudges him, then clears his throat, “uh, I mean, not like we’d be doin that-”

“Nono, point taken.” Indrid rolls over. The horseback ride was one of the “couples exclusives;” a trot out to a beautiful oasis for a gourmet picnic. Indrid got some excellent shots, including one of Duck with honeycomb dripping down his chin, which he will not be offering up to editors but may keep for himself. For it’s beautiful composition, of course.

Mercifully, their next stop is the pool. Indrid settles himself in the hot tub while Duck types some notes on his phone. Then his friend doffs his bathrobe and Indrid may as well be in a dream. In the steaming, echoing paradise of multi-colored tile and ecstatic shouts, Duck stands like one of the angelic fountains at its heart has come to life.

“You okay there, ‘Drid?”

“Yes.” He hopes his lack of glasses means Duck will mistake his blatant staring for trying to get his vision in focus.

“Then scoot your cu--uh, your butt over so I can sit down.”

Indrid gladly moves aside, finds he’s so comfortable with Duck pressed against him that he begins nodding off in the warm lull of the water. When the other man nudges him, saying it’s time to go, he finds a strong arm draped over his shoulder and Duck’s smile the most relaxed it’s been all trip.

Their last task at this location is to locate the speakeasy somewhere on the premises and order the “lovers delight” (only available to couples). To do so, they follow clues purple light bulbs, doors that lead to tiny, art-filled rooms, secret staircases, and a false supply closet to a dark wooded, dimly lit, incredibly pleasant bar looking out over the property. The drink turns out to be a massive goblet (more a bowl that someone stuck on a stem) of ginger syrup, prickly pear juice, and silver tequila.

It also turns out to be incredibly strong. So much so that when they get back to the room, Indrid loses his balance getting his shoes off, which makes Duck laugh, which results in both of them flopping onto the bed.

“S’fun. You’re, you’re real good at the clues. Should, should go to an escape room when we get home.”

“Wasn’t, hic, that hard. They, they want, hic, want you to find it.”

“Take the compliment, goofus” Duck pushes his shoulder.

“You’re, hic, the goofus.”

“Nuh uh.” Duck sticks his tongue out. Indrid does the same, then licks his cheek just to hear him laugh.

Duck rolls onto his back, giggles dying down to a contemplative sigh, “He woulda hated this.”

“Your ex?” Indrid crawls to stay close to him.

“Yeah. Everythin I like, or, or thought was fun, he thought it was a waste of time or just plain worthless. He, he wasn’t like that at the start. Dunno what changed. Probably me. Probably got borin. Got worse.”

Indrid is not so drunk that he believes he can fix this. But he’s just drunk enough to stroke Duck’s cheek and murmur, “No. Nono, hic, you’re th’best.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep after that, but he must have, because his phone is beeping at them to get up and face the day. They do so with to-go coffees in one hand and their bags in the other, neither speaking of the night before until Indrid has turned the car into deeper desert.

“Sorry for gettin on a thing about Alex last night.”

“It was a three year relationship; goodness knows you’re allowed to have feelings about it.”

“Even relief?”

Indrid glances at him, “Of course.”

His friend leans back in his seat, sipping from his travel mug, “That’s half the reason I been in such a funk. I feel like I oughta be sad, then I feel guilty for the fact I’m relieved instead. But if I really was that unhappy in it, why did I hang around so long? Maybe that was the best I deserved, y’know?”

“I know the feeling, yes, but I can’t say I agree with your statement. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are and adores it, not someone who loved what you once were and became bitter when you grew.”

Duck looks at the console between them, at Indrid’s chipped black nails and the hand he hopes isn’t shaking. He squeezes it a moment longer than necessary, “Thanks, ‘Drid. It’s nice to hear that from someone who’s still gettin to know me. Juno and them, they’re my friends, I know they’re in my corner but, uh, sometimes I worry that anyone new is gonna find me dull or somethin like that.”

“I’m sure some people would, just as some take one look at me and decide I’m a weirdo who they don’t want to deal with. But I can say with certainty that I don’t find you that way.”

Duck grins all the way to their destination. It’s a quirky trailer park full of amenities and built mostly from salvaged materials, doing it’s best to run off the grid. It also gives each trailer a theme, and Indrid flaps his hands when he sees they’ve been booked in the “The Cramps” themed one.

“Hell yeah.” Duck mirrors his excitement as they open the door. Their haven from the desert sun is full of kitschy horror artifacts and a much smaller bed than the previous spot. There’s no debate this time; Indrid settles on the right, Duck on the left, and they settle in for a nap before venturing out to work.

They take in the bar, the arcade, the mini-golf course, and the “couples supply room” (“damn, didn’t know they made eggnog scented massage oil” “ooh, I like how that smells”), but Duck turns out to be most excited to rent a stargazing kit and guide Indrid out into the dark desert. They’re on their backs, shoulder to shoulder and munching chocolate covered fruit, when he discovers the source of his glee.

“There!” Duck points to a crackling streak of silver.

“A meteor” Indrid wiggles happily as a second one speeds through his view.

“It’s the Perseids, and this is a damn good place to watch ‘em. Look, there’s another one.” He’s breathless each time and Indrid’s heart threatens to beat hard enough to crack the earth at the sound.

“Did you ever wish on stars when you were little?”

“Yep. Never asked for much worth notin, though I’m pretty sure I wished once to just wake up and be a boy. Or, uh, guess for everyone to see me as one. What about you?”

“I wished...I wished for someone to do things like this with, some who’d kiss me and tell me that they didn’t need to wish because what they wanted was right here.. I love the world, I want to see so much of it, that’s half the reason I chose my profession.. But when I was young I thought I’d be with someone when I did. I thought it was easy to find that kind of love. To be worthy of it.”

“Hey now” Duck rolls onto his side. He’s backlit by the moon, meteors zipping behind him as if they, just like Indrid, are pulled to him, “what happened to all the stuff you said in the car about deservin someone who adores you?”

“It’s easy to apply such things to you, harder to believe them about myself.”

“How come?”

“Because you are everything a sensible person could want in a man and I am not.”

“That’s where you’re wrong” He sets a hand next to Indrid’s shoulder, “Can think of at least one sensible fella who wants to get to know you a whole hell of a lot.”

“He’ll get to know me plenty, we’re co-workers.”

“There are different kinds of gettin to know someone.” Duck dips down, brushes their noses together, “for instance, the last few days I’ve gotten to know you’re a damn good travel companion and that Ned was smart to hire you. But I’ve also gotten to know there’s some things about you I really wanna know.”

“Such as?” Indrid’s fingers find Duck’s sides.

“Such as whether you wanna go on a date with me when we get back. No assignment, just the two of us gettin some time together.”

“I want nothing more.” He leans up to kiss him, feels him shudder happily when their lips meet. Indrid wonders how long it’s been since someone kissed Duck like they meant it, and resolves to make up any deficits with an enthusiasm that would put horny eighteen year olds to shame.

Indrid nips Ducks ear, “you know, were it not for the threat of mosquitos and scorpions, I’d suggest we make good use of the non-food items in that basket.”

Ducks grin lights Indrid up like a comet, “Then howsabout we go test just how conducive our trailer is to romance?”

Indrid kisses him adoringly, “Lead on, sweetheart; I’ll follow you anywhere.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #meet ugy

29 notes · View notes

sassyhobbits · 4 years

Note

Could we get the scene where Aelin and Rowan learn they're pregnant in ONS, please? 🥰 (and maybe a little glimpse at them deciding to try?)

my literal pleasure. i hope you like it!

~~~

Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius of Terrasen hadn’t believed that it was possible to reach the levels of bliss she currently experienced. Being married to Rowan was truly a gift. Her husband continuously made her happier with each passing day.

Tonight had been their two year wedding anniversary. They had celebrated by renting out a nice restaurant in downtown Orynth for just the two of them. They had eaten and laughed and reminisced while enjoying wonderful wine. Now, they were back at the palace, laying in bed, tangled in the sheets after making love.

Everything was perfect. Their life together was perfect.

Aelin’s head rested on Rowan’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart and breathing in his pine and snow scent. His fingers stroked her hair, legs tangled within her own. It was paradise. There was nothing more she could want.

Well… there was one thing she could want.

It was an idea that had been swirling around her head for the past few months or so, but she had yet to voice it to the man at her side. She knew in her gut that it was what she wanted, but it wasn’t something they had discussed yet. And it worried her what would happen if they weren’t on the same page about it.

Aelin’s arms wrapped tighter around her husband. “Ro?”

“Yes, Fireheart?”

Her mouth opened, but the words faltered on her lips. She sat up, allowing Rowan to look her in the eyes. He wore a beautiful, serene, smile on his face, but a furrow formed between his brows as he took a look at her expression, cupping her jaw and skimming his thumb over her cheekbone.

“What is it, Aelin?”

She sucked down a deep breath, looking into the eyes of the man she loved, before she opened her mouth. “I want to have a baby.”

Aelin’s heart hammered beneath her ribs, biting her bottom lip and waiting for her husband to respond. She could normally read Rowan like the back of her hand, but she couldn’t quite pin down exactly what was going through his head.

Aelin knew what happened to Lyria, knew that Rowan’s previous fiancé had been pregnant when she had passed. She knew that knowledge would forever weigh on Rowan. The topic of children had yet to come up between them.

Rowan sat up, taking one of Aelin’s hands within his own and holding it against his chest.

“You want to have a baby?” Rowan whispered.

Aelin nodded. “Yes. I do. I’m ready… if you are.”

There were a few beats of silence where Aelin could have heard a pin drop, waiting for her husband to give his response.

And then Rowan smiled. A wide, full smile that split his entire face and made his green eyes sparkle. He released a bright laugh and nodded.

“Yes. I think we’re ready to have a baby.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Yes. Of course.”

Aelin laughed and lunged forward, throwing her arms around Rowan’s shoulders and kissing him deeply. Her husband swept her up against her, holding her firmly.

For a few more moments, they held one another and kissed, whispering how much they loved one another. Eventually, they pulled back and rested their foreheads against one another’s.

“So…” Aelin murmured. “You ready to start trying?”

Rowan chuckled. “Now?”

“What? You worn out already, old man?”

The sparkle in Rowan’s eyes was dangerous. He didn’t hesitate before slanting his mouth over hers and laying back down on the bed.

The idea of a child was exciting, but Aelin would sure as hell enjoy the path to get there.

…

A whirlwind six months passed by.

Aedion and Lysandra were married. It was a beautiful ceremony and Aelin was fairly certain she cried the entire time, immensely happy to see her cousin and her best friend so happy. Lorcan and Elide finally got engaged and were currently in the throes of planning their own wedding. Aelin knew Rowan took delight in how it tortured Lorcan.

Aelin knew she shouldn’t take it so hard when each month passed and she had yet to get pregnant. She remembered her mother saying that it took her a while to conceive as well. Aelin had gone to the doctor a few days after she and Rowan decided to try for a baby to ensure everything was well. After she had been injured by the bullet all those years ago, the doctors had assured her that everything would be fine. She had just wanted to be sure. Once again, her gynecologist told her that she was completely healthy, that sometimes it just took time.

Still… it was hard not to get disappointed every month when her cycle came around.

Aelin muffled her groan into her pillow as her alarm rang out for the third time. She continued to snooze it, not quite feeling her best. She knew she needed to get up and get herself somewhat ready before Lysandra got here to do her makeup and get her dressed before her appearance today. They were opening another facility for the Ashryver Institute and Aelin would be there for the grand opening. She would give a speech, pose for some photos…

Aelin reached across the bed, hands searching for the warm body that was normally next to her, but finding nothing but cool sheets. Every morning for the past four days, she woke up forgetting that her husband was currently across the sea in Doranelle, visiting his family.

Gods, it hadn’t even been a week and she missed him so badly. Pathetic. But she loved him.

Aelin sat up, rubbing at her eyes, which grew wide when she was suddenly hit was an overwhelming wave of nausea.

She sprung out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, knees barking in pain against the tile as she fell before the toilet and lost the contents of her stomach.

She hurled until she had nothing left inside of her, slumping over and trying to catch her breath. Good gods, she felt like shit. Where the hell had this come from? She had felt completely fine last night.

There was a knock on her door and then the sound of a brisk, heeled walk that Aelin instantly recognized.

“Aelin, honey? You in here?” Lysandra called.

“Bathroom,” Aelin rasped out.

The footsteps came closer and Lysandra peeked her head into the bathroom, looking as stunning as ever. Her delicate face fell as she saw Aelin.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Aelin assured her, flushing the toilet. She pushed to her shaky feet and lumbered over to the sink, splashing some cool water into her face. “Just felt nauseous all of the sudden.”

Lysandra ran a soothing hand down the silk on the back of Aelin’s nightgown. “Did you not feel well last night?”

“No, I felt fine last night.”

Lysandra’s hand stilled on her back, her green eyes catching hers in the mirror.

“What?” Aelin asked worriedly. “What’s that look for?”

“Aelin…” Lysandra whispered. “When was your last period?”

The princess opened her mouth, at first certain that nothing was out of the ordinary but… she was late. It hadn’t crossed her mind with how busy she had been for the past month with setting up the opening of the Ashryver Institute but… her skin had been looking amazing recently. Glowing. She had originally thought maybe a few of her tops had shrunk, but maybe her boobs had gotten bigger.

“Holy shit,” Aelin hissed, swooping down beneath the sink and grabbing the box of pregnancy tests they kept stored beneath. “Do you think…?”

“Just fucking do it!” Lysandra ordered.

Aelin sprung into action, heart pounding in her chest as she did what needed to be done.

The princess paced back and forth across the rug covering the tile floor, running her fingers through her hair. Lysandra had a timer on her phone, which finally chimed, causing Aelin to freeze in her tracks.

“Oh gods,” Aelin squeaked, dragging her hands down her face. “I can’t look.”

“Do you want me to do it for you?” Lysandra offered.

All Aelin could do was give a meek nod.

Aelin could have sworn that time froze when Lysandra picked up the little plastic test and held it up to her eyes. She watched her friend’s expression with bated breath, searching for any small shift in expression. But it wasn’t small. It was huge.

Lysandra gave a ridiculously large grin before slapping a hand over her mouth.

“What does it say!?” Aelin demanded shrilly.

Lysandra flipped the test around before cheering, “I’m going to be an aunt!”

Aelin felt her eyes well with burning tears, placing a hand over her heart. “I’m- I’m pregnant?”

“You’re pregnant!”

Aelin began crying in earnest as Lysandra swept her up in her arms and embraced her. It wasn’t long before Lysandra was shedding tears right along with her.

“Oh gods, I need to tell Rowan!” Aelin gasped, wiping at her eyes.

“When does he get back?”

“Two days.” Aelin bit at her lip. “Gods, I’m so excited I don’t even know if I can wait.”

“You have to! This isn’t over the phone news!”

She was right, of course, but Aelin was still buzzing. She had no idea how she was going to get through the opening today, not when her heart was dancing in her chest like it was. Aelin detangled herself from Lysandra, turning to her side and looking at her still-flat stomach in the mirror. She put her hand on it, at the little life growing there.

She couldn’t wait to meet them.

…

Aelin wasn’t sure how she got through the next two days. The opening of the new facility luckily kept her busy and didn’t allow her time to think about the baby or calling her husband. She swore Lysandra to secrecy about the pregnancy. No one else could know before Rowan did. Aedion, however, was a perceptive little shit and realized that the two girls were keeping a secret. It drove him insane that they wouldn’t tell him.

Lysandra had taken her to the doctor, just to confirm what the test had told them. Yes. Aelin was undoubtedly pregnant.

Aelin was thankful for the time difference between Orynth and Doranelle, leaving her and Rowan with little time to communicate. Normally, she hated that factor of travel. Now, it had become her saving grace. The most they talked were brief stories and I love you exchanges.

Rowan’s flight was getting in late that night. Aelin had told herself that she would stay up until he got home, but fatigue got the better of her. She ended up dozing off on the bed, still dressed in a comfy sweater and leggings.

At least she was woken up pleasantly, with a brush of soft kisses on her jaw and cheek and the scent of her husband enveloping her.

“Rowan?” Aelin grumbled, peeling her eyes open and sitting up. She smiled sleepily as she saw him. He seemed a little tired as well, but still handsome. Always handsome. “You’re home.”

“I am.” Rowan sat down beside her on the bed, giving her a long, slow kiss. “I missed you.”

Aelin melted into the kiss, leaning closer to Rowan’s warmth. “I missed you more.”

They indulged in a few more slow, lazy kisses before Rowan pulled back. His eyes scanned her, the clothes she still wore and the bed she hadn’t bothered to get fully into. “Were you waiting up for me?”

“I tried to, at least. I’ve just been really sleepy lately.”

“You’ve been working hard.”

“That’s… that’s not the only reason.”

Rowan’s brows furrowed. He moved a bit closer, scanning her from head to toe as if he'd find some sort of ailment. "Are you alright? Did something happen?"

"Yes, something happened but-" Aelin cut herself off with a tiny laugh. "I think it's better if I show you."

She reached towards the bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling out a little box wrapped with a Terrasen green and silver bow. She handed the box to Rowan, who raised a brow at her as if to say I didn't forget a birthday, did I?

Aelin shook her head at him. Just open it, you brute.

Rowan complied, undoing the bow and lifting the top off the box. He carefully peeled back the decorative paper wrapping in which Aelin had wrapped the positive pregnancy test.

Rowan froze, staring at the test as if he couldn’t trust his own sight. His gaze turned to her, eyes wide and disbelieving and cautious, as if waiting for her to say it was a joke. But all Aelin could do was smile so widely her cheeks hurt.

“Aelin…” Rowan whispered, those green eyes that she loved so much beginning to glisten. “Are… are you…?”

“I’m pregnant, Rowan,” she finished for him. “I’m pregnant.”

Rowan released a short, joyful laugh, placing the box down beside him on the bed before kissing Aelin soundly. She laughed and smiled against his lips as she cried, certain her husband was as well.

“We’re having a baby,” Rowan murmured, almost as if he were still trying to convince himself it was happening.

“We are.” Aelin placed her hand over her stomach, looking at it fondly. “I still can’t believe it.”

Rowan reached out, covering the back of her hand with his own. He kissed her temple. “Me neither.”

“I’m so excited. But also terrified.”

Her husband chuckled. “So am I. But, I know that we can do this. Together.”

“To whatever end,” Aelin murmured. She tilted her face up towards Rowan, kissing him again. “I love you.”

Rowan wrapped her up in his arms, holding her close. Aelin never felt more content than when they were like this. He kissed her again once, twice, hand on her stomach the entire time.

“I love you too, Fireheart.”

#rowaelin #ONE NIGHT STANDARDS #my writing #oneshot

231 notes · View notes