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t-lostinworlds · 3 years

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Dear Santa (Tom Holland)

a/n: this made me want a baby, preferably with tom but anyway. here’s my gift to you lot for the holidays! i hope you enjoy this one <3

pairing: dad!tom holland x female!reader trope/genre: Dad AU; slight angst; fluff summary: It’s a yearly thing for Tom and your daughter to write letters to Santa together on what they want for Christmas. Only this time around, it was over video call given that Tom was miles away from his two—three, including Tessa—beautiful girls. Santa did get the letters though... warnings: tom being such a dad (which is a warning in its own right), a dash of ‘missing you’ angst, it’s so fluffy that i died a couple times, bad pun/dad joke & a lil steamy in the end. word count: 7.2k+

masterlist in bio & pinned post

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"Dada!"

"Hello, angel," Tom gushed, heart warming up ten times over as he looked right at his four-year-old daughter's beautiful and chubby face. Her little hand waved enthusiastically while she sat on the tall chair in the dining area, her beam turning brighter at the sight of him. "How was your day?" He slid himself in the little nook he had in his trailer, placing his laptop on the table in front of him and getting himself comfy as he listened to her tiny voice babble. Some of her words were mispronounced, sentences cut short and randomly stringed together but Tom listened to every single one of it with much interest.

"What?! She didn't," he gasped exaggeratedly when she talked about Tessa sitting on her while they played in the living room, the pup barking soon after to make her presence known.

"She did! 'N Tessa so heavy dada."

The young lad heard your sweet giggle next and his whole body softened even more at the sound. He leaned back on the seat with the brightest smile he could ever wear. Although Tom could feel the sting in his chest gradually grow when you came into view.

The curve on your lips was tender and sweet, one that he could never get enough of even after years of seeing it, one that he's so dearly missed seeing in person. Tom felt his heart ache the more he stared at his two precious girls, both looking at him with smiles. But still, he can see it, the tiny specks of sadness in your eyes all because he was thousands of miles away, five days before Christmas.

He would absolutely do anything to be in the same room with you two right now. Hell, even to just be in the same country but alas, work and duties. Tom has been away for roughly five months and the last time he's seen you two in the flesh was two months ago when you came over and visited him on set. Now, it was the holidays and he's still not home. And Tom can attest that it's one of, if not the worst feeling in the world.

It wasn't in his plan to be so far away at this time but his schedule is ever changing which led him to still be at work nearing Christmas. He'd done the best he could to try and make it before or on the 25th but it wasn't set on stone. No real and solid plans until the actual day which was very gut wrenching.

It was the first Christmas he's away, after all.

But at this moment, Tom has been lucky enough to have a few hours off this afternoon given that night shoots were the agenda of the day. And even though he should be using this time to get a few hours of sleep in before a very long night, of course, Tom took this opportunity to video call over instead. He just got done eating lunch but it was already dinnertime back in London, and he so badly needs to see your beautiful faces before you went to bed.

"Thalia, sweetie, go wash your hands for a sec, yeah?" you hummed, running your fingers gently through her curly hair, one she got from him. Although her eyes, her smile and overall beauty? It was all you, Tom thinks so at least. Well, except for that cute nose that she got from him as well. The more she grows, the more it shows how she's the perfect mixture of her parents, and it honestly makes his heart soar. Thalia is the reminder of the love you and Tom have, one that's pure and strong that blossomed into this joyful, precious and beautiful little girl.

She looked up at you with a soft pout, pointing towards the screen as she shook her head. "Bu—"

"I'll be right here pumpkin, don't worry. Listen to mummy," Tom chuckled softly. Upon seeing the apologetic smile you flashed him, he knew that you saw the flicker of sadness that crossed his features. You always do see right through him. He shot you a small reassuring nod, a silent way to tell you it was okay.

"No go anywhere," Thalia warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

Tom felt his heart break even more but he flashed her a wide grin, crossing his finger over his heart and said, "I promise."

Thalia reached a hand out for you to take, a sweet smile on your face as you curled your fingers around her tiny ones. "There you go," you said, helping her off the seat.

"Thank you," she hummed, tugging your hand to urge you to lean down. A lovely giggle vibrated in your chest once Thalia placed a wholesome smack on your lips, the sight making Tom's heart skip a couple beats.

"You're welcome, angel," you said. Thalia disappeared from the screen, Tom assuming she had swiftly made her way over her little stairs that he had built for her a couple months back, just so she could reach the sink. "Careful," you called out, the soft grunts of the little girl echoing in the kitchen along with Tessa pitter-patters on the tiles. Tom knew she was in a rush up the stairs, eager to get her hands clean so she can go back to talking to him. He doesn't know if the thought made his heart soar or break a couple more pieces.

You turned back to look at him through the screen, a shy smile erupting on your features the moment you saw him already gawking at you with the proudest grin on his lips. He just can't help but admire the goddess before him. You just look so stunning and gorgeous in a simple knitted sweater, you, his wife.

That alone was honestly enough to make Tom combust with the love that fills him up ten times over. But then, by the heavens above, you're such an amazing mother. He genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself. You make him feel like he's on top of the world. Both you and Thalia make him feel so, so happy.

"Damn, how did I get so lucky," he gushed, gaze locked with yours with adoration coating his orbs. "I mean, look at you, the fact that I get to call you my wife? Whew." He shook his head in pure disbelief, blowing out his cheeks in the process. You let out a bashful laugh with a roll of your eyes, his smile only growing at your reaction. It makes Tom's heart melt whenever you get all timid when he showers you with compliments and affections, all the more reason for him to keep doing it as often as he can.

"All clean!" Thalia exclaimed as she climbed back onto her seat with your guidance, showing her palms to him with a bright smile.

"That's my girl," Tom said proudly, shooting her a wink with a grin to match.

You moved the laptop farther so Tom could see both of you clearly. Disappearing for a moment, Tom heard you speaking to Tessa, handing the doggo her dinner he presumed. You came back into view soon after with two plates on hand, placing one in front of Thalia—to which she adorably clapped with a soft 'thank you'—and setting yours right beside hers. Tom simply watched with a smug smile as you handed the young girl her utensils before you sat yourself down. Your little girl waited for you to get situated without touching her food. Then you and Thalia locked eyes, lifting your spoons and taking a bite at the same time with giggles coming out of you both.

The amount of times Tom could literally die and resurrect at the adorable scene before him was immeasurable. He was unable to wipe the love-struck grin painted on his lips, cheeks hurting but totally worth it.

"Oh, that was a very big bite," he commented when Thalia took another spoonful. Tom adjusted the sleeves of his flannel shirt, pulling it up his forearms for him to easily prop his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm as he admired his two precious girls.

"Hmm, so good!" Thalia nodded enthusiastically, eyes all squinted with her cheeks puffed out as she chewed her food as thoroughly and as carefully as she could. Although a little bit of it still managed to stick to her chin, Thalia quick to clean it up with the napkin you placed right beside her plate.

God she's growing up fast.

Tom felt his eyes sting at the thought of his little girl growing to be not-so-little anymore. Not long ago he was the one who'd wipe the little crumbs and mess off her face, but now she can do it all on her own. He could honestly cry.

"You know what, I'm so jealous of you young lady," he huffed, leaning back with his arms crossed and a deep crease on the middle of his brows. "It's unfair how you get to eat mummy's cooking every day."

"I sent Sam some of my recipes, didn't I?" you asked, amusement laced in your tone as you furrowed your brows at him.

"Yeah, but it still isn't the same when it's you cooking because then I can give you hugs and kisses during the process." Tom pouted. "That's one of my favourite parts aside from eating."

"Ew, dada, cheesy."

Tom's mouth fell agape as his gaze snapped towards Thalia and then at you—to which you only shrugged with a giggle—and back to his daughter. "Okay, who taught you that?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Uncle Haz!" Thalia exclaimed proudly, nodding her head as she continued eating.

Tom shook his head disappointedly as he locked eyes with you. "I've been telling you, love, Harrison is a bad influence on her," he grumbled, jokingly of course.

"Oh hush, it's not like what she said was a lie," you pointed out with a knowing smile.

"Hey!" He pouted.

Thalia giggled at his reaction. "Dada cheesy," she repeated.

Tom sighed, shaking his head but the smile never did leave his lips. It never could whenever his eyes are on you two. He was going to confront Harrison about that though; makes Tom wonder what other things that blonde lad has taught his daughter.

"How was your morning, bub?" you asked with a soft smile.

Tom relaxed in his seat as he proceeded to recount the events that happened earlier all while you both continued to eat your dinner.

"—and then we got to visit the children's hospital and gave out presents, which was nice."

"They met Spider-Man?" Thalia queried.

Tom gave her a nod with a wide smile on his face. "Yes, they did."

It's still surreal to him how he's managed to now have the fifth movie of the franchise. It was the last installment which was somewhat bittersweet on its own right. Nonetheless, Tom was very thankful with the run of his career as the famous web-slinger. Lucky and blessed would be huge understatements to describe his life. Even more so now that he's got a wonderful, beautiful daughter and an amazing, gorgeous wife.

"Dada a real life superhero."

Yup, he definitely couldn't get even luckier than this.

Tom let out a coo, bottom lip jutted out as he looked at you and then at Thalia with a little gloss in his eyes. "I could literally burst into tears right now. You own my heart, darling," he gushed. Eyes glancing back at you, he sighed, "You both do."

The warmth and love you held in your eyes glowed some more, his smile widening at the beautiful sight as he tilted his head at you sweetly. Turning back to his daughter, Thalia flashed him a wide smile, setting her spoon and fork down with a satisfied hum.

"Finish already?" Tom asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. "It's letter time!"

Tom can't help but chuckle. It's been a yearly thing for him and her to write their letters to Santa every 20th, always the same schedule which was after dinner. Thalia has grown accustomed to the tradition real quick despite only doing it for only a few years. Well, she is just four.

"Alright, alright, why don't you help mummy clean up while I'll go get my pen and special paper," he said with a wriggle of his brows. The young girl clapped cheerfully as she grabbed for your hand before hopping off her seat, gently taking her plate from the table and carrying it to the sink.

"She's getting so big, love," Tom breathed out, looking at you with his bottom lip jutted out.

"I know," you sighed, eyes on Thalia before you tilted your head at him with that gorgeous smile of yours, nothing but adoration coating your orbs.

Smile turning into a mischievous smirk, he wriggled his brows at you. "Should we make another one?" he purred, voice low and guttural but quiet.

"Thomas!" you hissed as softly as you could. You looked at your little girl briefly and Tom literally saw the relief that washed over your face before you turned back to him with a death glare. "She hasn't asked about that yet and I swear if you're the reason why she starts now—"

"Tessa, not the spoon!"

Your head whipped towards the direction of that little voice before you turned back to Tom with narrowed eyes. "You behave yourself, Mr. Holland," you warned, raising a brow at him and then walking off screen.

"Love you, Mrs. Holland!" he called out with a chuckle.

***

"Dada don't peek!" Thalia gasped once she saw Tom craning his neck teasingly. She glared at him as she covered her paper with her little hand, which was honestly the cutest thing ever.

"I'm not, I'm not," he chuckled, going back to writing his letter.

He wasn't really asking for presents. Well, realistically, he doesn't need to. Of course he could pretend and not write anything at all but he feels a little bad lying to his daughter. So, he resulted to jotting down the things he already has rather than asking for more. All of his yearly letters had consisted of nothing but gratefulness as he lists down what he's been blessed with and was so thankful for, you and Thalia always at the top of that list.

The party has been moved to Thalia's room now, the little girl fresh out her bath and was wrapped in her PJs. The laptop was right on the little desk she had in the corner where she practices her writing, reading and even drawings.

It was where they always write the letters. The previous years, Tom would sit right beside her in one of the tiny chairs as he helps her write. But now, instead of side by side, they were looking at each other through the screen, which honestly makes Tom's heart ache. To add to that, she was writing on her own too, a bittersweet feeling coursing through his bones. Because as much as how he feels so proud to see his little girl know—slowly but surely—how to write, there's always going to be a part of him that clings to the memory of her little hand encased in his much larger ones as he helps her navigate the pencil around the paper, letter by letter.

God, she needs to slow down on growing up. Tom can't honestly handle it.

"You peeked again!" she squealed when she saw Tom lift his brows with widened eyes as he tried to get a look at her paper. Thalia quickly glanced over her shoulder, pointing at the screen with a pout, so obviously telling on him which made him let out a hearty laugh. You came into view right behind the little girl, toys on hand which Tom knows you got off from the floor. There's always so many of them littered around her room. Well, he admits, he does spoil his little girl, sometimes.

"Dada, no peeking," you scolded playfully, raising a knowing brow at him, Tom's heart melting at the seams at your use of the nickname.

"I didn't see anything, I promise." He threw both his hands up in surrender, scrunching his nose at Thalia who only stuck her tongue out at him in response. You disappeared from shot again, continuing what you were doing, Tom assumed. He turned back to his daughter. "Now, write your name at the bottom so Santa knows who it's from. And then put it in the envelope and give it to mummy," he instructed.

Thalia scribbled a few more lines before taking the paper in hand, folding it up as best as she could—all wonky and uneven which is so darn cute—and then carefully sliding it in the envelope provided for her. She then lifted it up to you once you made your way back over to her desk. "Done!" she exclaimed proudly.

"Great job, angel," Tom commended. "Now, time to brush your teeth."

Thalia nodded before turning behind her to catch your eyes. "Mama, help please." She pointed towards the laptop as a way for her to say that she wants to bring it with her, never wasting any time to talk or just see him. Again, Tom doesn't know if his heart could melt or break at the thought.

You nodded with a hum just as she rushed towards the bathroom across the hall, you right on her tail as you carried the computer in your arms.

"Ugh, my heart literally soars every time I hear her call you mama," Tom groaned as he shook his head. "Never gets old."

"Stop being so adorable when I can't kiss you right now," you muttered.

Tom smirked, shooting you a teasing wink to which you only responded with a playful roll of your eyes before you placed the laptop by the sink. Thalia was back on screen again, already brushing her teeth like a pro. Tom knows he's being a broken record but she genuinely needs to stop growing up too fast.

It's not good for his dad heart.

"Smile, sweetheart," Tom hummed once she saw her finish, the little girl showing her rows of teeth at him proudly. "Very pretty," he cooed.

"Thank you," she said with a cute giggle. The little girl bounded back to her room and climbed on the bed, you following suit with the laptop in hand. You gently placed it at the foot and on an angle so Tom could see you both clearly as you tucked her in. "Tessa!" Thalia squealed, tiny fits of giggles escaping her lips soon after as the pup circled around to find a comfy spot before settling right next to her.

The lovely doggo has become Thalia's best friend, personal cuddle buddy, and bodyguard. Wherever she goes, Tessa is always in tow. They always, always sleep beside each other every night and it's honestly the most wholesome thing in the world.

The room became dim when you turned off the main light, leaving the lamp on as Thalia wiggled a few more times before finally settling down. "Story, dada?" she yawned.

Tom nodded with a smile, leaning over the table as he switched up his voice a little. "In a kingdom far, far away..." he started, Tessa resting her head on the little girl's tummy as if she wants to have a piece of the story as well. His smile widened when you sat beside your daughter, your fingers caressing through her hair lovingly as you listened.

Tom can't help but pout at you, missing the way those same fingers feel against his scalp as you run them through his hair. You shook your head with a soft laugh, raising your brow to urge him to keep going with the story.

Gasps and giggles escaped out of Thalia as she listened to him all throughout his impromptu fantasy world. She made sure to throw in her two cents, turning the story to how whatever way she sees fit.

"...and then the princess climbed on her dragon with her new found freedom as she flew into the sunset. The end," Tom finished, his little girl letting out another yawn with her eyes now barely open. He can't stop his heart from melting at the sight. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you," he cooed.

"G'night dada. Love you too," she hummed, eyes fluttering close as she threw her arm over Tessa.

"I'll see you soon my princesses," Tom whispered, eyes flickering over at his pup and daughter with a bittersweet smile.

Tom caught sight of the stars that circled around the room when you switched off the lamp and turned her night light on. You flashed him a smile as you took the laptop in your hand and ventured out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind you.

***

"How about you, my love, what's in your letter for Santa?" Tom asked as you settled yourself down on your shared bed, back against the headboard with the computer on your lap. The screen really doesn't do you much justice on how gorgeous you look, especially now when you got changed and opted on wearing his hoodie.

"I just want you home," you whispered, hand going over your mouth in realization that you said it out loud. Tom saw the guilt spread across your features once you locked eyes with him.

"I'm trying, darling," Tom sighed, hand running through his hair dejectedly, ache coursing through his chest at the sound of longing in your voice.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you rushed.

"No, nothing to apologise for, love," he said, flashing you a sad yet reassuring smile. "It kills me too, being so far away from you both. But I'll see what I can do okay?"

You shook your head, brows furrowed in worry. "You've already done all that you could, Tom."

"But I feel like I should be doing more," he admitted, frown settling on his lips as he held your gaze. Oh how he wished he could take the sadness away from your orbs, to feel your warmth as he pulls you into his embrace. He wants nothing more than to cover you with kisses, to whisper sweet nothings onto your skin to replace your frown with those giggles he adores. "I miss you so much," Tom sighed.

"I miss you too—"

"Tom—oh, hey, Y/N."

You smiled softly. "Hi, Harry."

"I hate to be the one to say this but they need you on set now," Harry said in dismay, shooting you and Tom a guilty smile.

Tom looked at the clock, shock befalling him on how fast time had passed. It didn't even feel like he's been sat in this little nook for five hours, didn't feel like he's talked to you enough at all. He thought he had a few hours more, not a couple minutes left.

His eyes landed back on you briefly and you only flashed him a small smile. Tom turned to his brother with a nod. "Yeah, okay, I'll be right behind you," he said.

"Tell Thalia her favourite uncle said hi," Harry said to you with a proud smile.

Tom shook his head at his brother's bold claim given that Thalia hasn't said that at all. She hasn't shown to have favourites, nor does she have anyone who she likes to spend time with, more. But being competitive lads, it was natural for his brothers—which includes Harrison, Tuwaine and Jacob—to compete for the title of her favourite uncle. She's just spoiled to bits really.

You let out a laugh, though it was a faint one, smile not as wide as you nodded at the twin. "Will do, Harry."

Harry flashed you one last smile before he turned to give Tom a curt nod, hand coming up to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze. Tom smiled at him gratefully, patting his hand before the younger lad made his way out of the trailer. Turning back to you, Tom felt his heart drop to his stomach.

"Darling, please don't cry," he whispered, hand instinctively reaching for you, a harsh foot stepping on his heart when his fingertips only got as far as touching the screen.

"I'm not," you muttered, blowing out your cheeks as you leaned to the side, so obviously trying to wipe your tears off screen. Tom still saw it though, and even if he didn't, he knows you like that back of his hand. The smallest change in your voice could tell him all.

Tom did his best to keep himself together, flashing you a small, comforting smile once you met his gaze again. "I'll see you soon alright?" he said. "I love you so much, darling."

You nodded, frown settling in your lips as you sighed, "I love you too, Tom, oh so much."

"Goodnight, my love." Tom tilted his head at you with a knowing grin. "Dream of me," he teased, earning a small giggle from you.

"Always."

***

"Is dada not coming home, mama?"

It was the 24th of December and your heart could do nothing but ache at your daughter's question. You tried your best to not let your frown be so prominent while you tucked her to bed.

"We don't know yet, lovie," you sighed, hand caressing her cheek tenderly. "But maybe dada will be here the moment you wake up tomorrow," you added, shooting her a knowing wink despite the sharp stab in your heart given that it was still uncertain.

Tom hasn't called at all the whole day. He only sent you a text earlier this morning explaining that he was going to be busy, hence why he won't be able to call. Strings of apologies buzzed through your phone even despite telling him over and over that it was okay. You know that guilt is eating him up whole right now, know for a fact that he's beating himself up black and blue by still not being home on Christmas Eve.

Thalia flashed you her sweet smile and a nod in response, not pressing anymore about her father's absence.

She's really smart for her age, so you wouldn't doubt it at all that she understands why Tom is away right now. You did tell her that her dad wasn't going to be joining dinner this time and she simply said, ''S okay. Dada is a superhero and superheroes are very busy.' And it honestly took everything in you to not start bawling at the dinner table.

"Story time, mama," Thalia hummed, taking your hand in hers as she tugged you closer.

"Okay, scoot a little you two," you said, both Tessa and Thalia making room for you to sit on the edge of the bed. "Once upon a time..."

***

With Thalia fast asleep, you treaded towards the door, leaving it slightly open—for Tessa in case she has businesses to attend to in the middle of the night—behind you and made your downstairs, turning on the little lights on the steps in the process. You went inside the living room, walking over to the wooden stool by the Christmas tree to take the plate of cookies and the glass of milk. You emptied the glass as you made your way to the kitchen, placing the cookies back in the jar and then putting the dirty dishes in the sink.

Venturing into the guest bedroom, you took out the bag filled with the few gifts you had wrapped up the day before. It wasn't a lot, just a couple of toys for both Tessa and Thalia. The little girl really hasn't asked much this year aside from a few toys she saw on TV or at the mall. And what she had on her letter...it was a bit difficult to get.

You slipped back inside the living room, placing the gifts under the tree along with the few sweets inside the stockings. Once you've turned off the electric fireplace, you went over to the tree lights next. But before you could even get to the plug, you suddenly heard the creaking sound of the front door opening and then closing, making you shoot straight up and freeze in your spot. Your heart pounded against your chest, hands trembling at the thought of a break in. Your mind ran a hundred miles per hour as you thought about what to do, ready to sprint upstairs to get to your daughter. You felt your breath hitch when you saw a figure emerged in the entryway.

But then you saw that it was him.

"Tom?" you gasped, eyes wide and glossed up, mouth opening in closing in pure shock as you stared right at your husband.

His face was now in full view as he pulled the hood of his hoodie down. A loving smile played on his lips, one you missed seeing in person. Your heart stuttered as you held each other's eyes, so many emotions swimming in those brown orbs but the love and satisfaction outshined everything else.

"Hi, darling," he sighed in pure content, that voice you love so dearly clear and real, not muffled by the poor quality of the laptop speakers. "Do I not get a welcome home hug?" he teased when you stayed in your spot, unmoving and simply gawking at him. Tom opened his arms wide for you to easily jump into.

Once you've got a hold of reality, you just ran to him full sprint, a sob escaping your lips as he caught you right in his embrace. Tom wrapped his arms around you with a shaky breath, squeezing you oh so tightly as he rocked you side to side. You breathed him in, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, hands fisting the material of his hoodie from behind as your body raked with soft sobs.

Tom pulled away briefly to cup your face in both hands, thumb wiping away the tears that sat on your skin. He smiled at you all adoringly, eyes turning glossy before he swiftly pressed his lips right on yours. You let out a whine as you melted into the kiss, fingers taking home in the mesh of his curls on the back of his head as you held onto him, to physically feel him, just to make sure that he was actually real.

"I fucking missed you so much," Tom groaned against your lips, arms back around your waist to pull you inhumanely closer. His warmth was quick to coat you both inside and out, the feeling of his lips on yours familiar but never fails makes your head spin. His embrace felt like home and oh how much you've missed it.

You pulled away to give into your lungs' needs, but only just a little, both of you in dire need to keep each other as close as possible. The tips of your noses brushed against each other as your chests heaved, though the smile on your lips never did waver.

You stared into his brown orbs, your brows furrowed lightly in question. "But how—"

"Once they gave me the go I took the first flight home," he said, pressing his forehead against yours as he stared right into your eyes with utmost love and the widest grin on his lips to match. You placed your hand on his cheek, Tom turning his head to press his lips against your palm briefly before he leaned into your touch.

"I can't believe you're actually here," you whispered.

"I couldn't miss spending Christmas with my two—" Tom stopped himself when he heard the pitter-patter of paws down the stairs. You turned to see Tessa bounding towards your direction, jumping right at Tom as he crouched down to greet her with a chuckle, "Right, three favourite girls."

Then a small voice spoke, "Dada?"

Tom's head shot up, his handsome face glowing even more, remaining crouched on the floor as he spread his arms. "There's my sweet pumpkin."

Thalia ran to him as fast as her little legs would let her. Laughs came out of the young girl, the sweet sound echoing around the room as Tom lifted her up and spun her around.

"Yay! Santa got my letter!" she cheered, both hands up in the air.

Tom settled her in his strong arms with a soft furrow of his brows. He looked at you confused.

Later, you mouthed.

Tom nodded as he turned back to his little girl. "I missed you so much, my princess," he said, littering her face with loud kisses to which Thalia squealed and giggled in response.

You wrapped your arms around yourself with a satisfied hum and a wide smile on your face. To see Tom be such an amazing and loving father never fails to make your heart grow twice its size, never fails to make you fall even deeper for your man, your husband.

The lovely sight of him and Thalia made your body tingle in more ways than one, a thought crossing your mind, a feeling in your bones telling you that it was the perfect time. It made you smile wider, heat dusting your cheeks as you tilted your head at your husband and daughter.

Tom caught you staring, a proud smirk erupting on those lips of his as he shot you wink. You can't help but roll your eyes at his smugness.

Of course he knows the effects he has on you, knows how him being such a dad makes your heart flutter. But also, how it makes your body fill up with heat and want that you'd have to resist the urge to pounce on him. It probably was obvious in the way you look at him, easily sees it in your eyes because he knows you, he is your husband after all.

But then again, maybe he knows because he's just the same, if not much more intense. The amount of times he's gushed over and over how he wants to put another baby in you whenever he sees you taking care of Thalia goes to prove that point.

It's an equal reaction really, both of you just as whipped for each other.

"Come here, darling." He beckoned you over with a sweet smile, resting Thalia on his hip as he held a hand out for you to which you gladly took. He pulled you closer, giving you a soft peck on the lips before snaking an arm around your waist. You wrapped your arm around the small of his back, chin on his shoulder as you looked at him with utmost love. He shifted his eyes from you and Thalia as he sighed, "It feels so good to be home."

It was such a picture perfect moment, a pure family in love. There was nothing but wide smiles on all your faces, happy to finally be in each other's embrace after so long. Plus, Tessa sat right in front looking at her humans lovingly with her tail wagging enthusiastically.

Thalia's head fell onto her father's shoulder as she let out a loud yawn, tiny fists rubbing over her eyes before she wrapped her arms around his neck. Your heart melted at the adorably sight, a soft coo escaping your lips as you reached over to brush the stray her that landed on her face.

Tom chuckled, turning slightly to give his daughter a kiss on the forehead. "Let's get you back to bed yeah?"

***

Tom came inside your shared bedroom just as you slipped the envelope inside your drawer. Closing it, you leaned back against the headboard with a smile, eyes landing back on your man who stood still in his place.

Tom had his back pressed against the closed door, staring right at you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"You going to join me in bed or are you just going to ogle?" you teased, raising your brow at him with a tilt of your head.

Tom chuckled, pulling himself off the door and sauntering over to you all while slowly stripping off his clothing, starting with his hoodie to his shirt and leaving them across the floor.

He's lucky you miss him too much to call him out on that, willing to give him a pass since he did just got off from a flight. He'll probably pick them up tomorrow though. If not then, he'll definitely hear from you.

By the time he's reached your side, he was left in nothing but his boxer shorts.

"She asleep?" you asked, looking up at your husband lovingly as he towered over you, standing on your side of the bed.

"Mm-hmm." He bit his lip with a smirk as he leaned down, hands on either side of your thighs that were hidden under the covers. "I've got such a beautiful wife huh," he muttered, brushing the tip of his nose against yours all adoringly before he captured your lips in his with a satisfied hum.

You giggled between the kiss, fingers lost in his hair as you pulled him closer, lips moving in sync like they've never been apart for so long. Tom nibbled at your bottom lip, a low groan erupting in his chest when you let him in, your tongues meeting as his hand landed on your thigh with a hot squeeze. You basked in his taste for a few moments more, letting him explore your mouth just to feel him closer, especially after months of being deprived from each other. Your hands slid down to rest on his broad shoulders, giving them a squeeze before you pulled away.

"Before you get too excited, I suggest you read Thalia's letter first," you said with a soft giggle.

Tom let out a hearty laugh, nodding in agreement and giving you once last peck before he jumped over you as threw himself on his side of the bed. The whole mattress bounced due to his weight, earning a pointed eye roll from you. Always a dork no matter what.

He slipped himself inside the covers, settling back against the headboard just as you rummaged through your drawer. You handed him an already opened envelope before you laid your head on his shoulder, slinging an arm over his naked torso as you snuggled to his side. Tom took out the piece of paper, a smile erupting on his lips once he unfolded it, eyes catching sight of his daughter's messy handwriting.

His strong arm wrapping around your shoulder, Tom pulled you closer, giving you a tender squeeze before he read the letter out loud:

Dear Santa,

Please bring dada home.

Me, mama and Tessa miss him so much and I don't want mama to be sad anymore.

Thank you, Santa.

Thalia

Tom tore his eyes off the paper to look at you with a pout, brown orbs glossing up as he placed the paper back in its envelope and set it aside. Snaking both his arms around your form, he gave you a loving squeeze. "Such a sweetheart with a big heart, just like her mother," he hummed, leaning down to give your forehead a sweet kiss.

"I read that at the mall when I did last minute shopping. I had to rush to the bathroom to get myself together. I got so stressed because I don't know if you were coming home or not. Which would then go down to explaining to her that Santa didn't get her letter and I really didn't want to break her heart like that," you elaborated, Tom's fingers caressing your arm comfortingly. "And then I was walking past this comic book store and saw this life size cardboard cutout of you as Spider-Man with the mask off. I was really contemplating if I should just get that instead," you laughed.

"You should've," Tom chuckled.

"And creep her out? No." You shook your head with a giggle. You pulled away from him slightly, his hands sliding down to rest on the small of your back once you did so. With your palm flat against his toned chest, you gawked at his handsome face with nothing but love. "Yet here you are, always here to save the day," you hummed.

Tom smiled widely at you, hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek fondly before he pulled you down for a passion-filled kiss.

"Now," he murmured against your lips, hand sneaking down and under the covers, fingers hot against your bare thigh. He gave it a pointed squeeze before he pulled away slightly. "What do you want, my gorgeous wife?" he purred, a certain glow in those brown orbs as his smirk grew.

With a quick peck on his lips, you release yourself from his grasp for a second so you can reach inside your drawer. You gave him another envelope, a sealed one this time, Tom taking it with a confused look on his face. Lying down on your side, you propped your head up with your hand as you waited for him to read it.

Brows furrowed, Tom opened it and pulled out the letter, pupils moving slowly as he scanned the words. You can't help but giggle once you saw the shift of emotions on his face, his eyebrows rising as he stared at your handwriting wide-eyed.

Dear my lovely Tom,

Thalia is due a younger sibling, don't you think?

Love, Y/N ;)

Never have you ever seen Tom move so fast in your life.

Your sweet laugh echoed around the room as he immediately pulled the covers off your body so he could get himself on top of you without any hindrance. He hovered above you with a wide smirk on his lips, strong hands gripping your thighs as he threw them around his waist, body slotted in between your legs with ease.

He didn't waste any more time as he swiftly dipped his head to capture your lips with utmost love but also, need. The kiss was hot, rushed, a little messy and filled with absolute fervour.

Arms taking home around his shoulder, you pulled him closer into you, your heels digging into the small of his back, both of you groaning at the familiar closeness, bodies fitting perfectly together like two puzzle pieces.

Tom slipped his tongue in your mouth with ease when rutted his hip once which earned a gasp from you. He did it again with a low growl, to make you feel just how badly he needs you. And oh you can feel it alright, feel it really hard. There was the obvious desperation coursing in you both; it's been months after all.

Pulling away for a moment, Tom wriggled his brows at you with lust-filled eyes and a love-struck smirk. Your chest was heaving as you stared right into those brown orbs, ones that turned even darker as his hands took hold of the hem of your—his—shirt. He was ready to pull it off of you but not before saying,

"I guess Santa isn't the only one emptying his sack this Christmas."

"Thomas!"

-:-:-:-:-

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#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland reader insert #tom holland one shot #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #dad!tom #my writing

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nonawaaa · 3 years

Text

A Father’s Day Special

Part 1 (Naruto), Part 2 (Sai), Part 3 (Shikamaru), Part 4 (Sasuke)

“Sarada what do you plan for Father’s day?”

Sakura ask her daughter, she’s really curious what her daughter is doing since Sasuke-kun is here after a long time.

“Father’s day? Your right Mama!” Sarada looks flustered by the realization that the holiday was coming, she had a lot of missions lately so she forgot about it.

“But I don’t think Papa likes things like that,”

“I am very sure your Papa appreciates things like that Sarada, he might not say that but I know,” Sakura knows her husband is a man of very very few words, but the joy Sarada brought them made Sasuke softer in terms of family.

“I… I don’t know Mama… I think I never did anything for him during Father’s day, I think this will be the first,” Sarada stated, trying to remember if there was a time even during her early years if they celebrated the holiday.

“Well, you are very young when he went on the long mission, but when you were a kid, you used to write him letters and we would send them to him through his hawk once in a while you know,” Sakura smiled at the memory of little Sarada telling her to write Sasuke a letter since she still doesn’t know how to write one, she was always telling him to be safe and be back by dinner, even though Sakura knows the last part was impossible at that time at least the first one she was sure of.

“I did? I don’t remember,” Sarada still trying to remember the moments her Mama said.

“Like I said you were very young,”

Sarada went to her room after the talk with her mother. What do her father likes? She’s knows he likes her mother’s cooking, but not to the point of knowing what to gift him. She wants to do something special, even though her Mama shared some past moments, this is the first one that she will remember.

“What do Papa like?” Sarada lays down on her bed, not aware the sleep coming to her.

Sasuke went home very late in the evening, nothing unusual. When he comes home Sarada and Sakura are already asleep, but this time is different, Sakura was waiting for him.

“Sakura? I already told you, you don’t need to wait for me,” Sasuke said straight to the point, he just wants his wife to rest, he knows she is also working.

“I think you should go have some time with Sarada, Anatta,” Sakura didn’t mind what her husband said and went to the kitchen to heat up the dinner left for him.

“Sarada? Why? Did something happened?” worry is evident on Sasuke’s voice.

“Calm down, nothing to worry about,” relief washes over Sasuke. He took off his coat and joins his wife in the kitchen.

“It’s Father’s day tomorrow,” Sasuke do not know what to do with the information his wife shared. So he just looked at her, trying to get her to say more.

“Sarada wants to celebrate it,” that caught Sasuke’s attention. Celebrate? Father’s day? He remembered the letters Sarada used to sent him, he smiled at the memory, he kept every single thing they sent him, trying to keep it safe and clean as much as possible.

“Hn,” Sasuke also wants to celebrate it but how do they celebrate it? The last time he celebrated Father’s day was when he was a kid. When he thought everything about the world was at peace.

“I’ll prepare dinner tomorrow while you and Sarada go have some time, okay?” Sakura smiled at him, still he doesn’t know what to do but he’s sure they’ll figure some things out.

“Papa hurry!” Sarada waves her arms ushering her Papa to walk faster. They are going to the sea food stall near the village gate, she wants to have some squid with her Papa but they sold out pretty fast that’s why she’s in a hurry. Sasuke follows his daughter, not really giving much emotion but he still do what she says. A weird sight for the villagers.

“It’s gone!”

When they arrived in the village gates, the sea food stall was already gone, meaning it already sold out. Sarada pouts, she really wanted to share a squid with her Papa. Sasuke noticed his daughter’s reaction and quickly think of another way to celebrate this holiday.

“I know a dango place,” Sarada looks at her father confused.

“Papa you don’t like sweets,”

“But you do, right?” Sarada was pleasantly surprise that her father knows that she eat sweets, she don’t know if he’ll eat too but as long as she’s with him. When they arrived in the dango place, Sarada noticed that her Papa was smiling while looking at the sweets in front of them.

“Do you eat dangos Papa?”

“Not really, but I know someone who do,” Someone? Maybe a friend? If that is her Papa’s reaction then it got to be someone important to him.

“Who is it Papa?”

“Someone who’s just like you,” Sasuke said simply and gave his daughter a smile. That was the first time Sarada saw her Papa smile like that. She’s curious about who that person is but she chose to enjoy dangos with her Papa, they didn’t really talk much, they share some things from time to time, they enjoy each other’s company that way, that’s when they understand each other the best. The day went by quickly and Sarada enjoyed every bit of it. A simple celebration with her Papa. When they were just to go home, Sarada decided to give her gift.

“Papa promise me not to open it until later!” She said as she proceeded to walk home. Sasuke didn’t have the time to react but he did noticed his daughter’s blush, she looks just like her mother. By he looks of it, it’s a letter. This time Sarada is the one who wrote it, with her own words and her own feelings.

Dinner was delicious, Sakura went all out and displayed her newly learned recipes, she made sure it was perfect. When dinner was done, Sakura was doing the dishes and Sarada went up to her room, looking at her Papa one last time before she enters her room, Sasuke took this as a sign to open her gift. Seems like she’s really embarrassed about it. Sasuke begin to read.

Dear Papa,

This will be the first Father’s day that we’ll celebrate together. Mama told me I used to write you letters but I don’t remember it at all so I thought this will be a great way to celebrate our first holiday that I’ll remember. I know you had a really hard time with your work Papa, even though that’s the case make you always eat and be safe! Mama doesn’t say it but she’s worried about you all the time. We’ll always be here Papa, waiting for you. Someday I’ll make you proud and become Hokage I promise! I love you Papa.

-Sarada

He smiled at the letter in his hand. ‘Your just like your uncle, Sarada’ Sasuke thought.

A letter he will cherish.

aaaand that concludes Father’s Day special! I really hope you like it! I was saving this for the last because I feel like this is also (somewhat) personal? Thank you very much for reading \^o^/

#happy father’s day 2021 #i celebrated fathers day today which is weird #this is how i envisioned them celebrating #enjoying each others company #god i love them so much #sasusaku #sarada uchiha #sasuke uchiha #sakura uchiha #naruto fanfiction #naruto #fanfic

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leiasfanaccount648 · 4 years

Text

Iwaizumi with a Childish S/O

Pairing: Hajime Iwaizumi x GN!Reader

Genere: Tooth Rotting and Heart Wrenching Fluff

A/N: This started as one thing and then I ended up adding more and it turned into another thing lmao. Also shoutout to @briswriting for believing in me ily. Hope you all enjoy! :)

Warnings/Contains: Maybe a curse word, literally this is all just tooth rotting fluff.

You and Iwaizumi started dating in your first year while he was in his second.

Some people are shocked to hear that you two are dating due to your “contrasting” personalities, but he can care less about what they think and will tell them off if they overstep.

He first met you in the library and he couldn’t help but find the way you were trying to study/focus on your textbook cute.

Like you’re staring at it with such frustration and urge learn the material but you can’t as you just don’t understand why the hell you need to know the anatomy of different reptiles when you know that you won’t remember any of it next month.

And then there’s Iwa’s looking at you from the bookshelf he was originally trying to find a book in.

He immediately feels embarrassed and a little guilty for staring after you’ve caught him and he clears his throat before walking over to you.

“Hey, uh, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to-“

“Do you know anything about reptiles?”

He’s confused at your sudden question, not sure if he heard you right. “I’m sorry?”

“Please, I have a test tomorrow and I’m nowhere near prepared.”

Luckily for you, dear ol’ Iwaizumi Hajime had learned and memorized so many facts from when he was obsessing over Godzilla back in middle school (and let’s be honest, he still loves the big guy)

After that you aced your test, you offered to treat him to boba, which he was at first going to declined (as he feel like he didn’t deserve it) until Oikawa said that he should “take the opportunity while the people still want him and not his best friend”

You were shocked to see Iwa smack the back of the famed Oikawa Tooru’s head, but he later reassured you during your boba session that that was a daily occurance.

Anyway, one of the things that Iwa likes about you the most is how easy going you are compared to his normal and quite hectic life.

I mean, he’s already worn out from homework, practice, and dealing with Oikawa; but that all goes away once you invite him over to watch a Disney movie that you couldn’t get out of your head all day.

He also loves it when you guys bake or cook anything together.

Talking random nonsense, flinging/smearing ingredients on one another’s faces, dancing in the kitchen while the food cooks, etc.

However he’ll have to guide you back down to earth when the recipe is too complicated or even life threatening.

“Iwa! I found a recipe for a blackberry smoothie I wanna try!”

“But, (y/n), you’re allergic to blackberries.”

“And your point is?”

However, he knew he was in love with you when he had a particularly rough day and you had invited him over to hang out for the rest of the evening.

He was assuming to see Disney+ ready to go on the tv, your and his favorite snacks laid out along the coffee table; and best of all, you on the couch with blankets and pillows in one of his volleyball tshirts and your Powerpuff Girls pj shorts.

Instead, the snacks were set up, as well as the pillows and blankets, but you were nowhere in sight.

“(y/n)? I’m here. Where are you?”

Then he heard music, but it wasn’t what you usually listened to, or what was even played on the radio. He couldn’t pinpoint where it was from, but it sounded familiar.

However he had no time to think as he saw a figure come out of your room from the other end of the dark hallway where he stood.

“(y/n)?”

“No! It is I!” You turned on the hallways lights. “Godzilla!”

You were dressed up in a green onesie, and Iwa couldn’t tell what you actually were until he saw the dinosaur hood atop your head and the tail behind your legs. He then heard the music grow in volume and it was then that he recognized the song.

The Pirates of the Caribbean theme.

He didn’t know how to respond, as he didn’t want to laugh due to you picking the wrong music, but you didn’t even give him the chance to.

“And I’m here to attack and destroy any that come into my land!”

You ran after him, phone in hand as it still played the (wrong) music. Out of instinct he ran away and made haste towards your kitchen.

Once you were stopped in the archway trying to see where he was hid, he sneaked up behind you and picked you up by your waist.

“I‘ve caught the great Godzilla!”

The two of you laughed, you more so him as your original plan to chase him around the apartment backfired but you didn’t care.

When he finally let you down, he just had to ask as you were pausing the music. “Why did you play the wrong movie theme?”

“I did?”

“Yeah.”

“The YouTube video had a picture of the movie poster so I assumed it was the right one.”

God you were so cute.

“But why did you dress up like a dinosaur?”

“Correction,” you eyed him playfully, pointing at his nose to let him know you were serious, “I’m Godzilla.”

He chuckled and moved the hood back so he could get a better look at your face as you explained.

“And I’m dressed up because you said you had a bad day and I wanted to make you feel better. So,” she took his hand and led him back into the living room before turning on the tv. “I figured why not watch surprise you as Godzilla before we watch it since I’ve never seen it!”

Iwa looked at you, once again unsure of what to say. You were perfect in more ways than one, but he didn’t have the words to express it.

Instead, he gave you a sweet and gentle kiss before pulling away so he could look you in the eye. You swear you’ve never seen someone’s eyes dilate so much.

“I love you.”

You stared at him as you took in the information, glancing down at your feet before smiling at him.

“I love you, too, but you’re standing on my tail.”

Iwa lifted his foot and looked down to see that he was, in fact, standing on the tail of your onesie.

You led him towards the couch. “You’re gonna have to pay Godzilla back by cuddling them on the couch the whole movie.”

“I don’t think that’s much of a punishment, (y/n).” He laughed as you had him lay down first before snuggling yourself into his arms.

“Shut up and cuddle me.”

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aughtpunk · 5 years

Text

As Mayflies

“Why are you here?”

Aziraphale looked up from his tea and met Anathema’s steady gaze. There was a gleam in her eyes. One that often appeared in the eyes of humans who have important questions. He placed his cup back down on the saucer and tried to play it cool. “You invited us over for tea, my dear.”

Anathema’s nose twitched. Oh dear. “That is not what I meant and you know it. Why are you here?”

“Ah. Well. You see, Crowley and I were on The Garden’s walls, expecting to be picked up at any moment when suddenly--”

“Aziraphale.” Oh dear oh dear. Aziraphale usually only heard that stern tone in the voice of the upper management. Anathema did remind him a bit of a younger Michael, before The Fall had hardened his heart. “Why are you, an immortal being who has been alive on Earth for millions of years--”

“Six thousand, the Earth’s only six thousand years old.”

That stopped Anathema’s train of thought long enough for Aziraphale to get another sip of tea. It was nice of Anathema to invite him and Crowley over for tea. The weather was absolutely perfect and he was already determined to get Newt’s lavender scone recipe before they left. Crowley had forgone tea and was currently further down the yard playing with Adam and his friends. He wasn’t sure what game they were playing but it seemed to involve chasing after Newt while screaming ‘with milk’ in French.

Anathema took a deep breath and continued, “You’re an immortal being that’s been around for a very long time, and I imagine now that everything is sorted out you and your husband will be here for much longer.”

Aziraphale’s stomach fluttered at ‘your husband’. He could correct her, be decided not to. “Personally between the two of us I’m hoping for at least another six thousand years. Crowley says two thousand but I do think he’s low-balling it.”

“So why are you spending time with us mortals?”

Aziraphale was taken aback. Usually when a human sniffed them now (very rarely, the last one had been dear Oscar and all he had been interested in was heavenly gossip. He found it rather hilarious.) their questions were about the afterlife and that sort of thing. “Well dear, as I said before, you did invite us over for tea.”

“But, but we must be nothing to you in the grand scheme of things, right? Your husband mentioned that he once took a seventy year nap! That’s a lifetime! And he spent it in bed! What’s a lifetime to us is a mere boring Sunday afternoon to you. We’re nothing more than mayflies buzzing long your path. The fact that you’ve decided to sit down and have tea with us is nothing short of baffling.”

Across the yard Aziraphale heard the telltale hiss of Crowley turning into a snake. Newt’s loud scream and the cheers of the children confirmed this to the point that he didn’t even bother to look over. “And what do you think we should be doing instead?”

“I dunno. Traveling the world? Exploring the bottom of the sea? Traveling through the stars? Enjoying Earth before it gets taken over by cockroaches? There must be a better use of your time than being here with us.”

Aziraphale smiled, the love in his body pouring out in waves. He did love humanity so much, and Anathema here was a prime example of why. But he knew she wouldn’t accept an answer so simple as that so he instead called out, “Darling!”

“Yessssssssss angel?” Crowley hissed from across the yard. He was playfully wrapped around Newt and the kids and was pretending to crush them to death. Well he knew the kids would be safe at least, Newt’s safety might be a gamble. Crowley untangled himself and slithered over to the pair.

“Crowley darling, do you remember that winter we spent in the Himalayas?”

One might think it would be impossible for a snake to look ill, yet Crowley somehow managed. “I remember the yak tea. And the yak milk. Yaks. Lots of yaks. Why?”

“What was the name of that dear woman who made us that wonderful Shyakpa? The stew with the hand-pulled noodles?”

“Dawa Yangzum Ssssssherpa.” Crowley nodded his snake head as if double-checking his own memory, “Lovely woman. She gave me her best shawl, said I would need it for the trip down. It’s still in my linen closet somewhere.”

Aziraphale nodded before asking “And when was that, my love?”

Crowley made an odd snake-noise at that nickname but barreled through anyway. “Eleventh, no, twelfth century. Bit after the Normandy invassssion. Any reasssssson?”

“None at all darling, just reminiscing. Oh, and I wanted to distract you long enough for Adam to sneak up on you.”

“Wh--” Crowley was brutally cut off by four children pouncing him at once as Newt cheered in the distance. What followed would no doubt a vicious war of tickling and snake-grappling. Possibly even hugs from the children. Truly a fate worse than death for the Serpent of Eden.

Aziraphale turned back to Anathema and smiled. “You are correct, of course. Human lives are barely a blip on the celestial radar. But you must understand that neither you nor Newt nor the children are mayflies to us. Certainly not bugs of any type. You are the rainbow after the storm. You are the frost before the dawn. You are a wave of ocean foam and the flashes of light sung between fireflies. You are mortal, yes. But you are beautiful. Far more beautiful than the glory of Heaven or the delights of The Garden. And one day far in the future, when London is nothing more than memory engraved on a museum plaque, Crowley and I will look back and think fondly of you all and this wonderful summer day.”

“Oh.” Anathema whispered. Aziraphale became suddenly interested in his cup of tea to give the poor thing a moment to compose herself. A bit of divinity may have slipped out near the end there. She took a hearty swig of tea herself before finally getting out a weak “Thank you.” What she was thankful for she didn’t say.

Aziraphale smiled, “Think nothing of it at all my dear.”

They watched the children and Newt battle against the suspiciously much-larger snake in silence until Anathema found her voice again. “Wait. If the Earth’s only six thousand years old then what’s the deal with the dinosaurs?”

“Bit of a red herring. Something to throw humans off of our scent while we got everything ready for the end. You know, I knew the angel in charge of placing the fake skeletons in tar pits and such. Wonderful chap. Great sense of humor. Kept putting fancy wrist-watches on dinosaurs and posing them with ‘End Nuclear War’ signs. ”

“Oh?” Anathema asked as if Aziraphale was telling a perfectly normal story about an old coworker and not something that went against all her scientific beliefs. .

“He did get in trouble with the head office for that, though. I hear Gabriel still grumbles about the amount of paperwork that caused to this day.”

“Was Gabriel the prick at the end of the world?”

“Oh yes.”

“And the um, fly-person?”

“Beelzebub. Crowley’s old boss.”

“Ah. That explains the flies.”

Aziraphale soaked in the moment. The warmth of the tea, the crumbs of the scones, the sound of children’s laughter and his sorta-husband’s fake scary hisses as he pretended to eat Newt. In his mind he traced every petal of every flower and every sweet gust of wind that blew by. He would remember that tea party along with all the other tea parties Anathema would invite him and Crowley to. He’ll remember them long after the Earth has settled into silence and he and Crowley leave to explore the stars. But that was later. This infinitesimal moment of wonder was now.

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Your husband isn’t really going to kill and eat Newt, is he?”

“He better not. I still need that scone recipe.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #Aziraphale/Crowley #aziraphale #crowley #it's not stealing a joke it's an homage #rip Sir Pterry #the best angel

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deathonyourtongue · 4 years

Text

Willow Run | Ch. 7

Summary: On a horse ranch in Texas, life is far simpler than on the streets of Bakubah, but Syverson has a bad habit of taking in strays of all kinds, no matter what demons may be after them. Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC Word Count: 3K Warnings: Drug use? A/N: Y’ALL ARE THE BEST!!!! CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 |

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“I’m a nice guy, right? I mean I got a place, roof don’t leak none, got food...Hell, I gave it to her good, too. She always moaned like a whore when I gave it to her. She loved it, especially the rough stuff.”

“I mean, you did say you were gon’ kill her.” Wade giggled, inhaling deeply from a bong and momentarily taking his eyes off Travis. His shaggy blond hair was in need of a wash, but from the state of his shirt, it was clear cleanliness wasn’t at the forefront of any of his thoughts.

Tapping on a dying lightbulb that sat next to his recliner, Travis grinned. He took a long drag off his cigarette, swilled it with lukewarm beer, and finally nodded. “Well, that’s ‘cause she disobeyed. She doesn’t have a lot to remember, really. Keep the house clean, keep the food hot, keep her legs spread, keep takin’ ‘er pills. Four things. That’s all she needs to remember, but that seems too hard for ‘er. You tell me Wade. If someone finds it too hard to remember four things, should they really be breathin’?”

“No sir,” Wade laughed, grabbing a handful of pretzels and putting the whole lot in his mouth at once while shaking his head.

“Exactly. And seein’ as how she’s mine, it’s my right to do with ‘er as I please.”

“Can’t argue with that one, boss.”

Standing, Travis made his way to the kitchen, pausing in front of a mirror his fiancee had broken with her face some time ago. Slipped into the frame was a picture, taken years before on a Polaroid. He stroked over the image with his thumb, smiling. Travis could remember the day like it was yesterday. She’d tried to surprise him by bleaching her hair a white-blond with pink streaks. He took a deep breath,trying to keep from getting hard as he remembered how rough he’d given it to her that night after the party at the drag strip. In his experience, blondes were always bimbos, good for one thing and one thing only. He treated her like a blonde that night, then made her dye it back to its original color the next day; it didn’t matter to him that she had a hard time moving her hands up to her head, so long as she got the job done.

His reflection, disfigured among the cracks of glass, made him look more sinister than usual and it suited Travis’ mood. His grin grew as he met his own gaze; tri-colored eyes reminiscent of a broken marble stared back, amplifying the decision he’d already made. Running a hand through his mussed russet hair, he looked over his shoulder at his best friend before opening the fridge and grabbing a fresh beer.

“Wade? What d’you do when a deer runs away from ya out into the bush?”

“Y’hunt it. Why?”

“Well, my dear ran away, Wade. Get your stuff and call the guys. We’re gonna go huntin’.”

Sasha couldn’t help but smile as she read over the second note Sy had left her in as many days. To him, it was probably nothing more than common decency, but to Sasha it was such a tender gesture of affection that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

Feeling better than she had in a long time, she slipped out of bed, leaving the puppies to sleep and moved to get ready for the day, intending on finally surprising Sy with the breakfast she’d planned on making the day before. After a quick stop in the bathroom to tie her hair up in a floppy bun, Sasha put on a touch of the makeup she’d bought, slipped into the second outfit she’d tried on, and with new shoes in hand, headed downstairs to start cooking.

Though she hadn’t cooked from scratch a lot in her past, Sasha had always felt it important that a person have one or two recipes that they could make to near-perfection. Her favorite by far was her breakfast burritos and she’d yet to have someone fail to compliment her on them after trying them.

After a quick rummage through Sy’s fridge, she set about making two for him and one for herself, Sasha watching the clock closely, knowing full well she had a limited time frame to get the food to him before his meeting with the buyer. Where Sy sang, Sasha preferred to dance in the kitchen as she cooked, every movement accompanied by a happy little shuffle of her feet, whether or not there was music playing.

Before, she’d have to watch herself, as dancing was looked down on, but now, feeling freer than ever before, she couldn’t help but make her movements a little more grandiose. To anyone looking in, she might have looked a little strange, dancing and smiling from ear to ear when there was no music playing, but Sasha couldn’t have cared less. She was happy for the first time in a long time and she wasn’t going to hide it.

With the kitchen cleaned and the dogs all given a bit of bacon for their good behavior, Sasha set off with everything she’d made, the food wrapped in tin foil then gathered in a clean kitchen towel for easier carrying. Along with the thermos of hot coffee and a bottle of water in place of her OJ, Sasha headed off by foot to find Sy, not ready to try her hand at the ATV that sat parked at the back of the house.

Her smile grew as she neared the barn, hearing an upbeat country tune playing through speakers she could only assume were hardwired into the building itself. Seeing Wyatt, Sasha put a finger to her lips, silently asking him to stay quiet. The taller man only smiled, shifting his gaze back to a horse he was grooming while discreetly tilting his head to the left, giving away Sy’s location.

She was expecting him to look as he always had when working in the heat; sweaty, a little disheveled, and wearing his beat up baseball cap. What met her eyes however was something closer to the cover of a romance novel, and Sasha was momentarily stunned into stillness.

Wearing a navy and black plaid button-down, tight blue jeans with a black belt, and a far less trodden pair of black, round-toed boots, it was the black Stetson on Sy’s head that made her stomach explode into a million butterflies. Biting her lip, Sasha felt a stirring she couldn’t remember ever feeling for her ex, the realization a startling one that nearly made her drop the thermos.

It took a deep breath to refocus her mind, but once she had, Sasha tiptoed as close to Sy as she dared. With a quick look to Wyatt, who gave her wholehearted approval, Sasha leaned up as far as she could, standing on her tiptoes to try and reach his ear.

“Morning, handsome,” she whispered, echoing his morning note.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT, WHAT THE FUCK?!” Sy jumped a mile, turning and banging his elbow into the stall as he tried to figure out what was going on. Seeing Sasha, his fear instantly turned to elation, and he placed a hand over his heart as he took her in. Even more radiant than she had been the previous morning, Sy could tell she felt a million times better, not just physically, but emotionally. The gleam in her eye said it all, and before he could even register it, Sy was grinning like a fool.

“Morning, mama,” he said with fondness, his voice quiet and sweet as he tipped his hat back enough to kiss her cheek.

Though Sasha was momentarily confused at the formality of the kiss, it only took one look at Wyatt’s raised eyebrows for her to realize why Sy was being a little coy with the PDA. Everything was still new. Blushing a little, she pulled her surprise from behind her back, smiling hopefully up at Syverson.

“I thought I’d make your morning a little easier,” Sasha said, her smile growing as Sy slipped a hand around her waist, guiding her down the aisle towards his office.

Sy’s face showed genuine appreciation as he took a seat in his high back leather chair, pulling Sasha down into his lap so she wouldn’t have to sit on the perpetually hay dust-covered chair.

“You didn’t need to do all this, darlin’. You made coffee and everything. Thank you.” Sy met her eyes, his own gaze making it abundantly clear that he wasn’t used to being treated. Turning her face with his hand, he kissed her deeply now that they were in private, Sy sighing happily when he finally pulled away.

“Been thinkin’ about kissin’ you all morning,” he confessed, Sasha unable to keep the small squeak of happiness from escaping, her head falling to Sy’s broad shoulder as he reached around her to unwrap the kitchen towel.

With the tinfoil off in a hurry, Syverson’s face turned into one of delight as he immediately recognized what she’d made.

“Did you use the chorizo?” He asked, bouncing a little in his seat when Sasha nodded. Laughing softly, Sasha held off on taking her first bite in lieu of watching Sy. While his food always tasted amazing, he usually didn’t have much of a reaction to his own cooking. Now, with someone else’s handiwork in front of him, it was a totally different story.

Sy’s eyes rolled back into his head the moment the first bite touched his tongue, a loud, appreciative moan coming next as he began to chew, followed by more bouncing and a bob of his head that was unmistakably made in time with the music.

“Damn, woman! You could make some serious coin off these! It’s so good! I think you’ve ruined me. Never, ever tell her I said this, but... Even my mom’s isn’t this tasty! Holy shit!”

Blushing profusely, Sasha hid her face deeper into the crook of Sy’s neck, her smile wide as she felt his free hand come up to cup the back of her head. Warm and safe, she almost forgot about her own meal until the baby moved and her stomach growled simultaneously, both Sasha and Sy laughing and the loud interference.

“Might wanna eat quick, mama. The lil’ one’s gettin’ restless,” Sy grinned, his hand slipping under her overalls to rub her belly gently over her shirt. The touch made her heart skip a beat, Sasha still amazed that Sy seemed to have no qualms over the fact that she was pregnant, even now that they’d declared their interest in one another as more than just friends.

Unwrapping her burrito, she took a hearty bite, Sasha glad that her appetite was coming back a little stronger now that she was well away from her previous situation. Still watching Sy, she felt her blush returning as his excitement over the food didn’t waver a bit. It was so opposite of what she was used to, Sasha didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

“Seriously, Sash, I could have these as my last meal and I’d die a happy man.” Giving her a squeeze, he looked up at her and something in his eyes changed.

“Darlin’, you’ve got a little somethin’...” Sy’s voice softened as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Sasha’s lips and knocking her heart into overdrive immediately, with how charming he was.

“Stop,” she whined playfully once they parted, her broad smile making it clear she didn’t actually want him to do anything of the sort. “You’re too cute for your own good, mister,” Sasha added, pressing the button of his nose, her own scrunched up playfully.

“Nuh uh. That’s all you, mama. I’m just the big ‘ol rust bucket that works with horses,” he joked, Sy about to lean in to kiss her again when Wyatt’s soft throat-clearing interrupted them.

“We got about five minutes. He’s all ready to go, trottin’ around the pasture so he’s seen as they drive up. You need my help with anythin’ else or am I good to get back to the trees?” Wyatt asked, trying his hardest not to let his face show how surprised and happy he was for his best friend.

It had been eons since Sy had shown any interest in a woman, and despite only having met her briefly, Wyatt could already see how much of a difference Sasha was making in his former C.O., a difference for the better as far as Wyatt was concerned.

“Nope, I’m all good to go. D’you mind if I share this with Wyatt, darlin’? He hasn't’ eaten yet either and he’s about to go out and break his back.” Looking down at Sy as he asked for permission, Sasha only let the shock of his request flash briefly across her face before nodding quickly. Men never asked her for permission; they usually just took and took and took. Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, Sasha found herself slowly getting off Sy’s lap, mouth parted slightly.

Was it too good to be true? Would he end up being like every other man she’d ever been with? Was this all a dream that would leave her sobbing when she woke?

Managing to keep the smile on her face, she bent down and gave Sy a sweet kiss to his cheek, letting her lips linger just a little longer than was customary.

“I think I’m gonna head back up to the house.” Sasha murmured, stepping backwards while trying to keep her composure. Sy frowned slightly, confusion marring his features.

“You alright, darlin’?” Nodding quickly, Sasha waved the two men goodbye before turning on her heel and heading back towards the house as fast as she could manage.

Hearing the buyer’s truck pulling up as she crested the hill, it was all Sasha could do to keep from running, afraid seeing her might deter Sy’s prospective customer. Inside, the cool air hit her and without anyone watching her, Sasha let her tears spill, elated that she’d found such a wonderful man, but terrified that it was all going to go south like it did any time she had even a modicum of happiness to herself. Overwhelmed with emotion and forgetting all about the hormones coursing through her, Sasha kicked off her shoes before beelining the couch, curling up with Hudson and letting the tears fall silently until sleep overtook her.

Sasha wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she felt soft lips on her face. Moaning quietly, she braced for the kisses to turn to punches. With her eyes squeezed shut tightly, she was certain she’d feel the familiar wakeup call tear her out of her dream, which would put her right back to everything she’d run away from.

“Travis, I’m up, I promise,” she mumbled, whimpering even as she put her hands up to block whatever violence was coming her way.

When the gentle kisses stopped and all she felt was the circulating air of the AC, Sasha finally opened her eyes, confused; the sight before her put a lump in her throat instantly. Sy sat on the coffee table, back hunched over, his eyes gazing into a spot on the rug. Lips pressed in a tight line, two tear drops clung to his lower lashes, streaming down his face only when he finally looked up, their path cutting through the fine layer of dust on his face before he wiped them away slowly.

“Ah, sweetheart. Wish I could take all your fear, all your pain away,” he whispered, sniffling and wiping a little harder at his eyes when the tears wouldn’t stop.

Sitting up, Sasha found herself at a loss for what to say, her own eyes already red-rimmed from having cried herself to sleep. Looking at Syverson, she couldn’t help but feel the same guilt she’d felt during her first day with him. Only now, she could add making him cry to the list of things she felt responsible for.

“I feel like I’m a burden on you already, nevermind you wanting to take on my pain,” she admitted, her voice small and pinched, Sasha looking anywhere but at Sy.

Opening his arms, it only took a moment before Sy had Sasha in his embrace, holding her as close as he could and letting her fresh tears fall into the crook of his neck. Rocking her back and forth as he stroked her hair caringly, Sy could only think of one response to her words.

“No, not a burden. A joy.”

#henry cavill #syverson x ofc #captain syverson #captain syverson fic #deathonyourtongueoriginals #willow run

240 notes · View notes

lilith-of-rivia · 4 years

Text

My Queen

Masterlist

Pairing: Geralt X Reader

Word Count: 3,727

Warnings: Angst, death, swearing

Summary: After Y/N’s paarents are killed unexpectedly, she is forced to become the Queen of her country. During her sorrow an old friend come to her cornitation, Geralt of Riva. She hires him to avenge her parents.

[This one is honestly a bit sad, because the reader goes threw so much in such a short amount of time. I really hope you enjoy this. And thank you to everyone who has liked/reblogged my last story. It truly means the world to me.]

Luthia Empire

~ 2 months ago~

“Y/N! I know today is going to be one of the hardest days, but you must do this. If not for people. Do it for your parents. Luthia needs you princess Y/N.” It was Persilla, the princess’s best friend.

“My parents haven’t even been in the ground for 48 hours and everyone not only wants me to become the queen but also start searching for a king. I am barely 20 years old.” Y/N’s voice was harsh and ragged her throat hoarse from crying for 2days straight. Her eyes were red and puffy.

Her mother would kiss her nose while wrapping her hair up into its protective bonnet to hold her curls into place while she dressed. Her mother would put a cooling blue oil that she never shared the recipe for, and rub it on her daughter’s under eyes, the cold allowing her swelling to go down….but not this time. Queen and King Rudhal had died but three days prior. They were in a caravan on their way to a far-out town in their empire. Two Alghouls; mates, ambushed the caravan. No one was found alive. After three days of hearing nothing on either side of the kingdom, the palace sent out scouts, who returned and delivered the heart-wrenching news to Princess y/n. Now not even two days later she was being prepared for her coronation.

The door to the princess’s room opened slowly, Persilla walking to her friend, her hands going to y/n’s shoulders. She squeezed them reassuringly, kissing her friend's [hair color] hair.

“I’m so sorry y/n...this isn't fair I know that but the royal court needs a Queen. You won't be doing this alone. One of Aretuza’s finest will be at your aid.” She whispered as her friend stared at the wall across from her bed.

“I’m already here.” Y/N knew the voice. It belonged to Tissaia de Vries. The woman who also advised her parents for many years, when she was a babe.

Y/N sat up in her bed wiping her eyes looking at the woman she saw as another mother. Tissaia’s eyes were red from crying as she took in the news of the loss of the king and queen. Tissaia sat down on the other side of y/n and helped wipe her eyes.

“We are going to turn you into the queen that you are. And tonight at the coronation feast, if you wish you may drown your sorrows in ale. As for your duties, do not begin until tomorrow.” As Tissaia spoke she led the Princess to her vanity, looking at her in the mirror.

While Persilla went to get her gown, the new one her mother was giving her for her betrothal. The gown was a lovely blue and plum. It had hand-stitched and beaded flowers all over it. And long sleeves made out of a light vale like material. Y/N couldn't help but cry as she saw the gown, the one her mother knew she’d love. Tissaia quickly wiped her tears before handing her a cup full of a blue liquid.

“Drink, it’ll calm your nerves and help you feel better. You won't have to worry about crying for the rest of the night.” Y/N looked at the liquid and quickly drank it. Tissaia was right, she no longer felt sad, but she didn't feel happy. She just felt content with not being okay.

After about two hours, the princess was dressed in her makeup and hair done. Tissaia took her tiara and placed it on her softly curled hair that rested gracefully on her shoulders. Her eyes; the same color as her father’s, bright blue, nearly gray if the time of day was right, no longer red.

Tissaia and Y/N sat at the top of the long stairwell. Y/N could hear the bustling grand hall, full of her people. And some lords and their suitors to witness the coronation. Tissaia’s hand was holding the princess’s. The princess had a small fake smile on her face but no one would ever know it was fake.

“Are you ready my dear?” Tissaia asked. Y/N squeezed her hand softly and nodded.

“No, but let's do it.” Tissaia nodded to the announcer and the curtains opened.

“Now introducing Princess Y/N!!!” The crowd erupted in applause, everyone on their feet as Tissaia walked the princess to her place next to a minister.

“Y/N Rudhal, do you promise to do everything for our people and only for the people. So help you, god? Do you promise to always be there for the sick, injured, or people in need? Just as the king and queen did before you?” Y/N was now turned to face the subjects before her, her eyes roamed the room seeing many familiar faces, people she had known her entire life.

Her eyes landed on a tall man standing near the back of the room, in a dark blue and green suit. His hair was a striking silver and white. It was tied back, half up. His eyes met with the princess. Her blue eyes staring into his golden ones as she cleared her throat.

“AS your queen I assure you that I will do everything in my power to protect my people. To make it known that we are none to be taken advantage of. As your queen, I will do everything in my power to be just as loving and caring for my people like my mother and father. I will make the tough decisions for you and only you. I will serve you, my people.” Her voice was steady, assertive. Her mother would have been proud of her. Her posture is perfect, her voice trained and warming like a Queen should have. The crowd erupted in cheers and claps. Some people cried as they watched the little princess become a woman.

Y/N turned to the minister as he spoke a prayer in their native tongue and then her mother's diamond crown was placed on her head. The announcer took place at the base of the steps again.

“Now presenting Your Royal Highness Y/N Rudhal!!” Once again the crowd erupted in cheers. But Y/N was not as happy as she thought she'd be on this day.

The party had now been going on for nearly 3 hours and had no intention of stopping anytime soon. The Queen had downed a tanker of sweet apple ale every hour, Tissaia was sat by her side, her hand in the Queen’s. Many lords and knights had come to pass their condolences onto the Queen, in hopes for a dance. But the Queen hadn’t left her perch.

Y/N’s eyes were fixated on her now empty tanker when the man she had locked eyes with approached the royal table. The men around her became stiff and tense. Their hands were closer to their sheathed swords. Y/N looked up and met those golden orbs again. The man bowed his head gracefully, the Bard next to him doing the same. This man was no stranger to the Queen, in fact, her father always spoke of the mighty wither. And how sometimes he wished out kind one had more monsters because “I’d love to hire out the best. Help support the hunter in his endeavors.” He had passed through her kingdom many times, sometimes coming to the royal dinners with his bard when her mother hired the man to sing.

“My condolences, your Highness.” His voice was tough, stoic. But Y/N could feel the sorrow for her in his voice.

Taking a long drink from her now refilled tanker the queen dabbed her lips with her napkin, before standing, for the first time that night. She bowed her head to them both, walking (stumbling every now and again) around the table and in front of the two men who again, bowed their heads. The Witcher reached for her hand and gracefully brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of her palm. Her face went red but she tried her best to ignore it. The men who protected her now moved closer to her. She placed her hand up to the guards and looked at them, annoyance clearly ached on her face.

“My nights, please, for the love of God let me be. You have done none of this to any of the other men who have approached me tonight. When in fact many other men have been known to be more violence against women.” The guards looked down and stepped back again knowing she was right. Her eyes went back to the Witcher, who was smirking softly. A small thin smile crept its way to her lips. The first real smile she had shared that night. Her eyes went to the bard and she smiled at him.

“Would you mind playing some of your music for this grand party? The bards that are here are quite boring. I wouldn’t mind hearing the songs of your endeavors with the white wolf.” The bard smiled brightly at her, bowing his head.

“It would be my honor, your Highness.” He took off towards the men who had instruments and started playing.

“Walk with me.” The queen began walking away from the witcher, not being far behind her. She walked through the crowd of smiling drunk people till she got to the balcony entry. The guards pulled the doors open and the two went through them.

The deep sigh that left the queen's lip was that of pure sorrow. Her walls are now coming down, being away from her people. The cool night's air crisp on her cheeks. The tonic Tissaia gave her had worn off many hours ago. The tears began to stream down her silky soft skin. Her hands were on the cool railing as she looked over her kingdom. Lit up and parties all over in honor of her coronation.

“My parents have been dead less than a week, barely in the ground for 48 hours, yet here everyone is. Partying, getting drunk.” Her voice was shaking and cracking as she spoke. The witcher was now by her side, his hands behind his back as he looked over the kingdom with her.

This wasn’t the first time they had met. The man had been her escape from the royal household for many years. Training her in sword fighting, hand to hand combat and healing. Her mother was never fond of the idea but she never said anything. Letting her daughter release steam a few times a year with The Witcher. The young queen would be lying if she said she didn't feel something for the man. But she was one of hundreds.

“I’m sorry, your Highness.” He barely spoke, she knew that. Unless it was to educate the girl on how her feet were not properly placed, or how she needed to tuck her elbow more.

She turned to him, her face wet with tears and eyes red again.

“You have to kill them, Geralt.” She went to wipe her nose with the back of her sleeve when he caught her hand, placing a white handkerchief in her hand. She laughed softly, knowing how her mother always trained her to never wipe her face on her sleeve. She always trained her to not cry when in the presence of others. She had failed already.

“Kill what your-“

“Y/N. You know my name. You’ve used it. Or even that stupid nickname you always had.” Geralt chuckled softly leaning on the railing as he watched the crying queen.

“Spoiled little princess.” They both said the nickname at the same time. Causing that small smile to spread on the queen's lips again.

“I don't think that nickname is fitting anymore, my queen.” His voice was smooth. She was happy being with him. There was no pity in his face, he didn’t look at her like some broken toy like everyone else had been. He looked at her the same he always had.

“You have to find those blasted Alghouls and bring me their heads. I will pay whatever it is you desire. However much. If you fancy a new house, a new sword, a horse, all of the above. Whatever your price. I will pay.” She brought the handkerchief up to her eyes dabbing the tears away again as she spoke. Her eyes on the witcher. He stood tall again, placing his hand on her arm.

“Coin is fine, my queen. I will find them. But It May take a while. They are the hardest to hunt, especially at this time of year. Winter is approaching.” His thumb rubbed soothing circles on her arm as she closed her eyes. Wanting nothing more than to cuddle into his strong chest.

“Do you remember when my father would tell you he wished we had more monsters because he wanted to support the mighty hunter?” Y/N asked laughing softly.

“How ironic. Now the only time my blood has hired a witcher is to find the monster who killed more than half of my family.” Her voice broke again. This time the witcher didn't watch as she cried. He placed his hand on her lower back and pulled her into his broad chest. Holding her close. His other hand stroking her hair softly. Her sobs were muffled into his chest. Her body shaking.

“What am I going to do?” He didn't respond. He just let her cry. He held her. The only person who didn't try to wash away her pain or make her pretend to be okay. He just held her while she cried.

After a while the queen pulled back and wiped her face again, laughing softly. Her fingers softly touched the soft fabric on top of the Witcher’s chest. The blue shirt was covered in dark tear spots.

“Sorry about that.” He laughed softly. Looking down at the shirt. His hands now came up as he coupled her face in his hands. His golden eyes looked deep into hers.

“I will find them. And I will bring their heads on posts to you. I will avenge your family.” His thumbs stroked her cheeks as she sighed leaning into his hands. A weight was lifted from her shoulder. For the first time since her parents died, she had finally been able to cry until she couldn't. And wasn't shushed or told to hide it.

There was a soft knock on the door, Y/N’s head turned as she looked to her door to the grand hall. Tissaia was standing at the door.

“The coronation dance of Luthia is about to begin. Your people cannot start dancing until their queen does.” She spoke softly. Looking at the queen who was in the arms of a Witcher. Y/N looked at the witcher.

“Care to dance, White wolf?” Geralt nodded, and they turned.

She hooked her arm in his as he led her inside the grand hall, into the crowd of men and women as the song started to play. They bowed to one another. His hand went to her hip, while the other took her hand. They stared at each other, eye to eye as their feet worked in rhythm to the song, the movements flowing for both of them. Geralt led the queen along the dance floor, her dress flowing gracefully. Her crown catching the light of the moon, sending sparkles all over the hall. Soon her subjects followed everyone dancing in rhythm.

The night had come to an end. The Queen bid farewell to her people and thanked them for their condolences and prayers before she turned to head to her room. The witcher leading her. He hadn’t left her side all night. She needed someone who wasn't going to pretend she was okay. He knew she wasn't. He cut her off when she hit her 5th tanker of ale. And was there to wipe her single tear many times.

They rounded into her wing of the castle and stood outside her chamber doors. Y/N was a bit drunk, leaning onto the man for support. His hand wrapped tightly around her waist keeping her upright.

“Come love lets get you in bed.” It was Persilla. She was next to Y/N. She smiled softly at Geralt as thanks for being there. Y/N turned and looked at Geralt.

“Will I see you soon?” She asked, threw hiccups. Geralt chuckled, stroking a strand of hair behind her ear. His lips pressed to her forehead softly.

“You will see me soon, My Queen. Send for me if you need me before I return. I will be as fast as possible.” With the soft gesture of love (even if Geralt wouldn't admit that’s what it was) he left the Queen. Her face burning red.

~Present~

“Please my queen, we have no crops. The Griffin has prohibited the ability to get water to our crops. We need it gone. Many of us haven't eaten in days.” The man from one of the lower eastern cities had come to beg for Queen Y/N’s help. A Griffin had been causing terror to the people of the small town and caused them to halt production on crops.

“The White Wolf should return soon, when he does. I will pay him to take care of the Griffin. Until then,” The Queen motioned for one of the members of the royal court to come over.

“Send a group of soldiers with this man back to his town, help move his people out and into the royal gates till they can go back to living without fear. Give them food and water and shelter.” The man's face beamed at the Queen's words. He dropped to his knee in front of her, his hands together.

“Oh thank you, my Queen, thank you.” She smiled and helped the man stand as he walked out with the member of the court. Tissaia was watching from the side, a proud smile on her face.

It had only been two months since her coronation, but the young queen was doing better than anyone had ever expected. She grieved her parents that night but then put her people first. She had done exceptionally well. Even so much so, finding her a king was no longer a top priority.

“My Queen!” One of her guards ran into the throne room slightly out of breath as he pointed to where he came from.

“The Wolf, he's back.”

The queen wasted no time in running out of her throne room, her guards on her heels. She burst through the door to the courtyard. There in front of her was, in fact, the White Wolf, and Jaskier his Bard. In his hand were the heads of the two Alghouls she had hired to kill. Her hands clasped over her mouth. The witcher placed the heads by her feet and bowed to her as did Jaskier.

“Your parents have been avenged, my Queen.” The queen lost all her training at that moment. She leaped into the man's arms. Her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she hugged him as tight as she could. Her eyes burned with tears. Geralt’s hands wrapped tightly around her waist as he held her to him. Embracing her in every way he could.

She pulled away from him only enough to look at him. She whipped her eyes before turning Tissaia who handed her a sack of coins.

“There are three thousand orins in here” She plopped the bag of coins into Geralt's free hand, his other hand on her waist. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as Jaskier choked on his spit.

“My Queen I cannot take that much for the job.” Y/N placed her finger on his lips silencing him.

“You avenged my parents for me. Take the coin.” She was beaming at him. He placed the sack of money onto his belt and hugged her again.

“That smile suites you, my Queen.” He whispered into her ear as they embraced.

“I have another job for you, Geralt if you'll take it.” She said as she pulled away, and they began walking into her caste. Her hand on his arm as they walked.

“Hmmm. Already?” He chuckled softly.

“Yes, a Griffin. Terrorizing some of my people in the lower eastern corner of my kingdom. They will be moved here, for the time being, so they are safe. No rush. Take your time from the long hunt. But if you choose to stay here, you will always be paid well.” She was looking at him as they walked to the same balcony they had been on not two months before. His hand now rested on the small of her back.

“I don't mean to be crude, your highness, but the monsters are not why I will be staying.” His words made her blush as they looked over the frost-covered Kingdom.

“You are a very forward individual Geralt of Rivia.” Y/N said with a small laugh as she turned to face him. His hand came up to cup her face.

“I came back to not collect the coin you promised, but to make sure you were okay.” She leaned into his warm hand.

“I’m doing better than I thought I would. Every Queen needs a hunter, a smith, and the protector of her people. I am choosing you Geralt. If you take my offer you have a place to sleep here. You will always be fed, have the best weap-“ Before she could finish her thought, his soft warm lips had been placed on hers, silencing her rambling. Her hands went to his neck as she kissed the man back. They stayed there, engulfed in each other’s kiss for a while before Geralt pulled away. Stroking her lips with his thumb.

“You are the reason I am here my Queen, as long as you are here I do not need another reason.” She beamed at him, kissing him again.

“Then so be it, you are now the Witcher of the Luthia Kingdom.” He pressed his lips back to hers again, her hands now deep in his white hair.

“As you wish, my Queen.”

#geralt x yn #geralt #geralt imagine #geralt x reader #geralt x you #witcher ciri #witcher netflix #witcher geralt #witcher jaskier #the witcher #geralt of rivera #imagnes

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blaiddlleuad · 3 years

Text

Just never learnt ok? - wolfstar

The common room was deserted. Every student enjoying the last of the summer rays that shone brightly through the grounds of Hogwarts before having to board the train home for the holidays.

All except one of course.

Remus Lupin sat tucked away in the tightest most cosiest corner of the common room, eyes squinting in the dim light trying to read the last pages of his book. He didn't hear when a pair of footsteps came stumbling in and jumped at hearing his name. Cursing when he hit his head against the wall behind him.

"What you doing in there? Been looking for you. " Sirius Black stood proudly, beautiful black locks falling perfectly on his shoulders, stormy grey eyes with a sharp jawline to compliment the natural beauty that came with him.

Sirius was also tanned and Remus wondered if the boy had ever had an imperfection, it looked like the answer was no due to the fact that Sirius Black always looked devilishly handsome, even when he'd been up all night setting up a prank with James.

"Just reading, you knew that. I told you." Remus replied.

"Well come out of there, I wanna show you something."

"What?"

"It's a surprise, come on Lupin. Can't waste any more time!" Sirius was practically jumping with joy and excitement, he pulled Remus out of the tight spot and hauled him up on his feet.

Remus staggered a great 4 inches taller then Sirius's 5ft 6 but he somehow made it seem like he was the shorter one, hunching his back and slouching was much more comfortable than a straight back and a posture like a plank of wood. Sirius on the other hand made sure to rise above others in the sense of being bigger. Broad shoulders and muscles, chin up and fitted clothes to accentuate his even more perfect figure.

Remus could just die at one look at him.

"Oh alright. Lead me the way." Remus said, letting Sirius take his hand and guiding him out to the massive doors that opened up to reveal the large assembly of students situated along the lawn. Sitting down and laughing with friends. Taking in the summer sun, some students had even taken to having a dip in the lake.

Sirius continued to walk with Remus behind him until they got to the forbidden forests clearing. Out of site of the others.

"Uh pads, what we doing here?"

"It's in there."

"What is?"

"You'll just have to wait and see, come along now moony. Got no time to waste!" Sirius grinned and Remus melted more.

His and Sirius relationship was a secret between him, the other marauders, Lily and Marlene. They'd gotten together at the start of 6th year when a prank had backfired and Sirius was not able to lie for a good proportion of the day, ending up in him confessing his secrets to Remus when the two ended up alone.

Remus, thank god, recipicated these feelings and both decided to work out how to be together. Obviously this had done a excilant job and now were still wrapped around each others fingers after 7 months.

The forest was different in the day time then it was when the full moon was out and the night sky drew shadows under trees and bushes, hiding the other creatures the roamed.

The sun filtered down through the branches, birds flew up above and sang songs of sweet harmony's, rabbits hopped away and spiders span webs as the boys made a their way steadily.

"How long?"

"Not yet but soon."

A few minutes later a clearing opened and the sound of water made its way to Remus's ears. Frogs croaked and fish swam as ripples formed on the layer of blue that sparkled. A water fall in the far end covered a cave on the far side of the bank and Remus stood mesmerized by the site. With years of running around this place he's never seen this before.

"Just stumbled across it couple of day ago."

"It's, wow."

Sirius finally and reluctantly let go of Remus's hand and began to take his shoes and socks off before taking his shirt off too.

"W-what you doing?" Remus asked

"Going for a swim. You are too, now take your clothes off, just keep your pants on." Sirius smirked.

"I- what? No, Im ok."

"Oh come on, it's lovely in the water. Not cold and not too warm."

"It's not that, I just um, I er, don't like it."

"Don't like what? The water?" Sirius had now turned to watch Remus stand awkwardly off to the side, ringing his hands and gulping deeply. He looked back to the small lake and it suddenly clicked in his brain.

"Did you ever learn to swim?" He asked walking forward and taking on of Remus's hands in his.

"I, er, um, I guess not." Remus whispered looking everywhere but Sirius's eyes.

"Ok, I'm going to teach you then."

"What? Sirius no. It's ok, really I'm fine. I'll just sit on the bank."

"Don't be silly, it'll be fun. You'll love it."

Sirius waited sitting on the bank with his legs dangling in the water, splashing the fish that dared to come close to him. Remus carefully took of his clothes. Sirius has seen him a many times before; scarred and bruised, a widening pattern of lost memories and tortured turnings. He hated how he looked, opting to hide under large jumpers that were strayed at the cuffs.

But Sirius didn't hate them. He didn't like them as such because of how they happened but that didn't stop him from staring lovingly at the boy with freckles painting his face, soft blonde curls bouncing with every laugh, a hue of amber eyes escaping in the never ending land of dreams from the books that have stayed by his side.

Sirius loved the toothy grin he got, loved the hugs that held the warmth in and the terror out, love the subtle glances of adoration, loved how he could listen to an endless rant of nothing and everything. To put in short Sirius really did love Remus.

"Ok, so how you doing this?"

Sirius floated next to the bank, arms either side of Remus's legs.

"Just hold on, ok?"

"Mmm"

"It'll be ok, trust me."

"Mmm"

Sirius held firmly onto Remus's sides and lowered him into the water. Remus took a sharp breath in and closed his eyes but he trusted Sirius with everything he had left in him and let him continue to lead the way.

Has Sirius did say, the water was just right. Even with that Remus was shaking.

It wasn't like he's never gone swimming before. He'd been down the river has a child but after he was bitten his mother and father forbade him from doing anything that could harm him more than a werewolf could once a month. Since then he's not been exactly scared of water he just doesn't know what to expect. The feat of his parents had transpired to Remus and it's harder than previously thought to shake away that fear.

Remus had somehow been convinced to lay starfish on his back, staring up at the blue patched sky. Sirius was to one side, arms under his back holding him up.

"Nice isn't it?" Sirius asked

"Mmm."

"All you can say?"

"Mmm."

"Alright then, wanna try this one your own"

Remus blinked and shook his head as much a she could without swallowing some of the water.

"No, no I'm good. Stay like this."

"Aw don't be like that, just like having a bath."

"Might be useful if I had one."

Sirius was taken back. He tried to remember all the the times Remus had had a bath but none came to mind. Had he really never had one?

"You're kidding?"

"No, mum was scared I'd drown or something."

"Well nows a better time then ever to try."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Before Remus could get an answer, Sirius had begun to slowly drop his hands from supporting his back. Remus layed still and stiff, he didn't like the feeling of being alone in the water. He closed his eyes and wished it all away, pretending he was elsewhere. Reading a book on dry land, cozied up by the fireplace with a hot chocolate floating near by ready for when he needed to take a sip.

That moment didn't last long as a wave of panic rushed through him. What if his mother's fears came true? What if he drowned? What if Sirius had just left him? What if this was some cruel prank to torment with his fears to get a good laugh?

"P-pads? Y-you still there?"

"Yes, yes I'm still here. You doing great moony." Sirius brought his hand our the water and begun to sooth Remus, stroking his head and pushing his wet locks out the way.

"I don't like it anymore." He whispered

"Ok, let's go to the bank." Sirius had let Remus lach onto him. He was still on his back but his hands were gripping Sirius's arms like never before.

Remus didn't realize how far they had gone out until he opened his eyes and saw that they weren't close enough to the bank that he could get out.

"Sirius, whyd you let us get so far out?" Remus whispered again, he didn't trust himself to go any louder.

"Sorry, just did. Not that big anyways."

Sirius pried of Remus's hands off and Remus clung to the bank for dear life.

"See? Wasn't that bad?"

"Could've have been better. You didn't have to let go!"

"Sorry didn't think that you'd be so frightened by it. Look if it makes you feel any better, we'll go get ice-creams after this, yeah?"

"Ok."

Remus pressed his back against the bank, finding a ledge to put his feet on so he could stand. Sirius brought his hands to hold Remus's face, cupping his cheeks. Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius's waist and brought him close so there bodies were touching. Gently they met lips, slow and passionate.

The two had managed to climb out and layed on their backs, side by side. Hands intwined together and heads touching. Watching the trees above them and the birds flying past. They stayed in silence and they listened to the nature around them. Ice creams forgetton about.

#wolfstar #moony #remus x sirius #padfoot #oneshot #marauders fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black

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alj4890 · 4 years

Text

None But You

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) in a regency era romance as requested by @pixieferry

A/N: I believe we are nearing the end. I'm both excited and saddened by such. There will be at least one more chapter if not two for our story to conclude. It will live on, I know, in requests (which I have already received, LOL, so thank you for that). Shall we begin the end?

Masterlist

@graceful-popcorn @krsnlove @alleksa16 @hopelessromantic1352 @pixieferry @emceesynonymroll @buzz-bee-buzz @hopefulmoonobject @rainbowsinthestorm @lxaah11 @my-heart-beats-for-ya @everythingmarvelsherlockspn @friedherringclodthing @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker

Summary: Lord Hunt hosts a party a few days before the wedding for his neighbors and tenants. All come to meet the lady he is to marry. During such a gathering, Lord Ryan comes to a decision concerning Lady Millie. And of course, the wedding day has come...but will all go according to plan?

Chapter 14

Thomas, dressed for riding, paused on his way out when he heard the sound of ladies laughing and talking. He moved silently toward the drawing room and peeked inside.

Something about seeing Amanda hosting tea for some of the ladies that lived near Kirkwood Manor made him feel, well, happy.

She had easily settled into the role of mistress of his home.

He couldn't wait for the four remaining days until their wedding to hurry by.

He stepped inside and bowed to those that called out a greeting. His lips curved when he asked if they would excuse his lady.

"I need to speak with her about tomorrow night's gathering."

The group watched, fascinated at the affectionate expression on his face when he took Amanda's hand.

Once the couple left, whispered questions were asked of Lady Millicent, her mother, and of Lady Lucinda.

"I knew they were well matched." Lucy replied, a secretive smile forming. "When he appeared at Almacks, willingly mind you, I knew that he had fallen in love with my niece."

Gasps of delight were expressed while others urged the London ladies to share more observations.

****************

"Is something wrong?" Amanda asked once Thomas shut the door to his study.

"No." He swiftly pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Her startled laugh turned into a soft moan from the heat of his kiss.

He smiled softly at the bemused state his kiss had caused. "That was all I wished to discuss."

Amanda looped her arms around his neck. "As much as I enjoy our discussions," she teased, "I am most curious as to what brought this on."

He gave a brief shrug. "I saw you sitting there and needed to kiss you."

"I see." She pressed another kiss to his lips. "Feel free to pull me away whenever you wish."

He chuckled and followed her out into the hallway. "I'll be back soon, my lady." He took his hat and gloves from a patiently waiting Berger. "Lord Gabriel was wishing to see the new construction we did on one of the mills."

"Enjoy your ride, my lord." Her smile was warm when he bowed and lifted her hand to his lips.

Thomas kissed the inside of her wrist before letting it go.

****************

An hour later, many of the ladies left with invitations to visit their homes along with expressing how much they looked forward to furthering their acquaintance with Lord Hunt's chosen bride.

One particular lady remained behind to await her brother. Ms. Harriet Blake, younger sister to Mr. Richard Blake, Kirkwood's vicar, had found kindred spirits with Lady Millie and Lady Amanda.

"Have you ever been to London, Ms. Blake?" Millie asked once Lady Lucy and Lady Henrietta departed to finish the wedding plans.

"I haven't. And please, call me Harriet." She insisted with a bright smile. "Some of the families in Richard's parish refuse to do so, fearing it is somehow disrespectful to the Church." Her nose wrinkled. "No matter how much I insist I have little to do with his sermons."

Amanda laughed into her teacup. "Oh dear. Surely they don't."

"They do." Harriet slumped back in her seat. "Which puts me in the dreadful position of having to keep my teasing nature hidden whenever they are about." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "My family was always one to have a laugh. My brothers and I played pranks and joked throughout our years growing up. A couple of the ladies that visited you today are the very ones that insist that a vicar and his family be more somber than either Richard or I are used to."

"Clearly they have yet to read the verses where the Lord says to have a cheerful heart." Millie said dryly.

"Indeed." Harriet muttered. "It didn't matter that Richard preached that very subject the following Sunday." She sighed. "Unfortunately, I am unable to stop laughing whenever something humorous happens. And my dear, angelic brother makes it so much worse with his whispered comments." She shook her head, grinning. "There will definitely be no courtship offers from the gentlemen of the more serious minded families."

"Your eldest brother, Sir James?" Millie inquired. "He recently married, did he not?"

"He did to a lady I can find no fault with." Harriet explained. "Theodora has a wicked wit that is the perfect foil for James." She chuckled while stirring her tea. "My dear brother thought himself clever until he encountered her."

"It is amazing to see those we love find their perfect match." Amanda cut her eyes to Millie. "Even if they aren't too happy at the discovery."

"Oh do hush." Millie grumbled.

Amanda ignored her and explained the unusual relationship Millie had with Lord Ryan.

"I'm awaiting the announcement of their engagement." She told her, refusing to acknowledge the glares Millie sent her way.

Harriet smiled at the news. "My congratulations will be given as soon you decide to share it."

***************

Two nights later...

"Seems everyone is taken with your chosen lady." Ryan teased.

Thomas observed as his intended was asked to dance by the blacksmith's nine year old son. His lips curved when Amanda dropped into a curtsy worthy of the king himself.

Her smile was tender as she took his hands and allowed him to spin her around.

His neighbors and tenants had fallen for the lady he had been introducing the past week or so.

Just like he knew they would.

Amanda had entered their homes, eased their nervousness, and listened to their stories and concerns. He had seen from the beginning that her quiet gentleness was precisely what his people needed from their lady of the manor.

And to think, I had almost allowed myself a chance to lose her.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard her laughing plea for a chance to rest when some of the other children ran up to her.

"Better go and save her." Ryan whispered. "I think young Brandon will try and steal her away from her if you aren't careful."

Thomas chuckled. The little boy did have a look of pure adoration on his face as he looked up at Amanda.

He made his way past the party guests and eased his way through the children.

"Pardon me." He gently patted Brandon's shoulder. "I need to have a word with Lady Amanda."

The young lad bowed before them and took off to join in on a game with the other children.

"Thank you." Amanda slipped her arm through his, squeezing it affectionately. "I wasn't quite certain how to say I wasn't up for a game of Blind Man's Bluff after Brandon's dancing."

"Summers suggested I hurry and do so before he stole you away." Thomas teased.

She laughed and shook her head. "Have no fear. I think his love for me died a swift death when I expressed my dislike of toads." She looked up at him. "No proposal is imminent, not with little Jane saying she loved them."

"Good. I wasn't quite prepared to challenge him for you." Thomas smiled when she laughed once more.

He led her over to the table that was nearly buckling from the number of pies and cakes the guests had brought.

The weather had turned out clear and perfect for the outdoor party. The surrounding gentry had been surprised when the viscount had invited them and the commoners to a party. Kirkwood Manor had not seen a gathering like this in years, much less combining all who lived nearby.

Word had spread quickly that he was hosting it for a chance for everyone to meet the future mistress. There had not been one refusal to his invitation. Everyone was curious to see the nearly reclusive viscount and the lady he had met in London.

None had been disappointed. The couple made sure to spend time with everyone, thanking them for coming.

When asked about the wedding, the couple explained that they wanted a small service. This party was in lieu of an extravagant ceremony with plans to host a yearly celebration.

Words of encouragement, marital advice, and congratulations were given from those young and old.

Thomas could not imagine a more perfect way to introduce her to the people that she would be over or for them to see how perfect she was.

"Lady Amanda!" One of the matrons called out. "Have you tried the jam tarts? It is an old family recipe that..."

The couple listened as the woman prattled on about her tarts being hailed as the best in the land while each taking a bite.

"These truly are the best I've ever tasted." Amanda answered when pressed for her opinion by the matron.

Thomas took advantage of the woman bragging to her neighbors and excused them.

Amanda laughed softly when he murmured that he now remembered why he had attempted to not host parties.

"I think you have a talent for it." She squeezed his arm. "Everyone I have talked to seems not only fond of you but also has been impressed with this gathering."

"I think they are more fond of the curiosity I cause than of myself." He told her. His lips eased into a smile. "Though I do think that now that they have met you, I am now considered wise for choosing you."

Amanda rested her head against his shoulder. She opened her mouth to say something sweet only to be interrupted by Sir Peter's poetic recital getting louder the closer he came.

"And the angel with hair the color of spun gold, the very one my heart once foretold, is now once again before me." He grasped Millie's hand as she tried to escape. "Thus allowing me to speak on bended knee."

Amanda's lips trembled as she tried to suppress her laughter. "Thomas, did you invite Sir Peter for a particular reason?"

He slipped his arm around her waist. "Why ever would you suspect my motives?" He watched as Ryan scowled at the man trying to woo Millie. "I certainly would never use it as a chance to gain a bit of revenge on our closest friends and their interference in our courtship."

His lady covered her mouth to muffle her laughter when Millie tried to keep the man standing.

"Sir Peter, you mustn't kneel! Please," she looked around at the attention he was drawing, "lower your voice."

"Lady Millie, it has been agony being so cruelly parted from you all these weeks. Our time together in London was not nearly long enough to keep my heart from dying bit by bit from not seeing you." Sir Peter pressed her hand over his heart. "Feel how it has sprung back to life with being near you once more."

"I am flattered." Millie mumbled. "But I--"

"Get ahold of yourself." Lord Ryan snapped, pulling Millie away. "You are causing a scene, sir."

"A man cannot be blamed when reunited with the very reason he breathes." Sir Peter uttered.

"Good lord, man. Do you hear yourself?" Ryan grumbled. "No one feels such."

Millie stiffened. "I beg your pardon!"

"Not now." He warned.

"Oh! You--" Millie's voice rose in irritation.

"Millie," he growled. "You will tell Sir Peter what is in your heart. That will halt his musings."

Her blue eyes narrowed. "And why would my heart cause him to stop?" She stuck her nose up in the air. "No one has yet to claim it."

"Oh dear." Amanda whispered. "What are we to do with them?"

Thomas shrugged while enjoying his oldest friend's struggle with succumbing to a life with the prickly miss beside him.

"I have a claim on your heart!" Ryan snapped. "By your own admission--"

"Merely a slip of the tongue." Millie responded, escaping his grip. "Tis hard to continue to feel anything for a man who does not return my affection."

She smiled warmly at Sir Peter. "Do go on, sir. I have always admired your unique ability to form verses."

Ryan fumed as the two walked off together.

"Thomas, we must fix this." Amanda urged.

Her intended softly groaned before approaching the marquis. "Summers? I think you know what you must do."

"Do not say it." Ryan pleaded. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I refuse to spend the rest of my life with a woman who takes offense to every little thing."

"My lord," Amanda began gently, "Lady Millie is one of the most loyal, sweetest--

"Not you too." He pinched the bridge of his nose. With a deep sigh he turned toward the happy couple. "I am well aware of Millie's attributes." His eyes narrowed at seeing Sir Peter take Millie into his arms for a waltz. "Dash it all! Why the devil is she the one that my heart has chosen?!"

He stormed away from his friends and approached Lord Gabriel.

Millie's father broke into a delighted smile with Ryan's question.

***************

"Sir Chris," Lady Lucy nodded toward a young woman he had met earlier. "What do you think of Ms. Blake?"

"She seems amiable, Lady Bridgerton." He carefully responded.

"I agree." Lucy studied the clergyman's sister. "Mr. Blake's older brother has the barony near Bedford."

Chris wondered why Lady Lucy was explaining all this."

"Ms. Blake came to keep house for Mr. Blake once their brother married." She continued.

"That seems to be the way people do things." He muttered.

"She appears to be a cheerful, bright young lady." Lucy nodded toward the one they were talking about.

Chris followed her gaze. Ms. Blake was standing with her brother, laughing at a story the doctor and his wife were sharing.

"I suspect that it won't be too long before Mr. Blake settles down." She gently tapped her chin as if in great thought. "A gentleman with both fortune and family will be snapped up before he knows what hit him. Poor Ms. Blake. It is hard for a lady to surrender the ingrained need to be head of a household."

"I wouldn't know anything about that." Chris narrowed his eyes playfully. "Lady Bridgerton, are you up to you old tricks?"

"Me?" Lucy placed her hand to her heart. "Why sir, whatever do you mean?" Her eyes twinkled. "I would never want to see a nice young man matched with a lady of equal sweetness."

He chuckled. "Lady Lucy, what would you have me do?"

"Ask her to dance." She gently patted his arm. "Then see what happens."

Chris shook his head. "You're lucky I am so fond of you, my lady."

"I know, my dear." Lucy urged him away. "Thank you for indulging me."

**************

"What do you think of Lady Amanda?" Richard Blake whispered to his sister, once they were alone.

"I like her very well indeed." Harriet responded. "I am most surprised at how changed Lord Hunt is after meeting her."

"Seeing him so happy is a surprise." Richard responded. "After meeting her, I look forward to knowing her better."

Harriet rolled her eyes with a laugh. "Yes, I saw her eyes light up with interest when you brought up your weekly discussions of literature with Lord Hunt." She nudged her brother. "I think your invitations to visit Kirkwood will continue if not increase once they are wed."

"Excuse me, Ms. Blake."

Harriet turned with a smile. "Sir Winters? Right?"

Chris nodded, flashing her a smile. "I was wondering, with your permission Mr. Blake, if I might have the next dance."

Richard eyed him for a moment then his sister's delighted smile. Feeling the brotherly need to tease her, he slowly nodded. "I have no objections if Harry does not."

Harriet's smile disappeared at the nickname her darling brothers declared described her perfectly. Her light brown curly hair was known to have a mind of its own, especially when she first awoke in the mornings.

They still liked to howl with laughter over her plight to tame it.

"Forgive me," Sir Chris looked about. "Who is Harry? I don't think I have been introduced to him."

"Have you not?" Richard continued, his smile growing. "I could have sworn you were--"

"Ignore him, sir." Harriet interrupted. "He is an evil man intent on tormenting me."

Chris's confusions gave way to worry. "This Harry is causing you trouble?"

Richard burst into laughter. "Forgive me, sir. Harry is what I sometimes call Ms. Blake."

"My name is Harriet." Ms. Blake added in case the young man was unaware. Her own teasing smile appeared. "My brothers are not known for their intelligence when it comes to appropriate monikers."

Chris couldn't help but smile as the siblings handled the good natured ribbing with more humor.

As the first notes of another waltz were heard, he bowed before her. "Ms. Blake? May I have this dance?"

She took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the area cleared for the dancers.

Once in his arms, she smiled warmly at him. "I have heard you had a hand in helping Lord Hunt's courtship."

He nodded. "I along with Lady Millicent, Lord Summers, and Lord Rodriguez." His lips eased into a smile. "They were a little too stubborn in their refusing to admit to falling in love with one another. We were there to help give them the necessary push toward matrimony."

Harriet laughed softly. "You should be commended. You did a marvelous job of matching them." She turned her head toward the couple who seemed to only have eyes for each other while they danced. "I must confess with the years I have known Lord Hunt, I have never seen him like this."

"Neither have I." Chris responded. His smile grew, dimples deepening. "Now once Lord Summers and Lady Millie are settled, I will only have to worry about Lord Rodriguez."

Harriet's eyebrow lifted. "Sir, have you developed a love for matchmaking?"

"I believe I have Ms. Blake." He winked at her, causing a delightful blush to form on her cheeks. "There is something so satisfying in being proven right." He leaned closer to whisper. "And to see your friends struggle with the inevitable trip down the aisle."

She laughed out loud, drawing a few curious stares. "Sir Winters, I don't know if I hope you also decide to help myself and Richard find a proper match or pray you never feel the desire to."

His eyes settled on the velvety chocolate color of her eyes before dropping down to the pert, thin nose, and then her lips curved in good humor. "I might know someone who might be your perfect match." His eyes lifted to hers. "Of course, before I can reveal who the gentlemen is, I would need to spend more time with you to gain a proper look at your character."

She shook her head as another chuckle slipped out. "I would suspect nothing less from a professional matchmaker."

**************

"Rodriguez!" Ryan called out. "Have you seen Lady Millie or Sir Peter anywhere?"

"Sir Peter is talking to Lady Henrietta and I saw Lady Millie over by the desserts." Matthew pointed out. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Only the ending of a man's life." Ryan responded.

He marched over to the lady in question. "We need to talk."

Millie turned around with a chocolate éclair. "We do?" She took a bite and ignored his presence. "I do not see what we could possibly have to talk about."

Ryan grit his teeth. "Would you accompany me on a walk, my lady?"

"I've already had a walk," Millie informed him in a friendly tone of voice, "with Sir Peter."

"Yes, I know." Ryan bit out. "Now I need to discuss something personal with you and wish for a secluded place to do so."

"Tempting, my lord, but I believe I will rest here and enjoy these delectable offerings." She finished her éclair and began to search for something else to eat. "Thank you for the off--" she let out a yelp when he gripped her arm and half dragged her away.

"Lord Summers!" Millie huffed. "Let go of me this instan--" she nodded her head and smiled at the vicar. "Good evening Mr. Blake."

"Same to you, my lady." He responded, smiling at the pair as they passed.

"Let go!" Millie hissed once they were out of earshot.

"I can't." Ryan responded in an even tone. "I tried, Millie. Lord knows I've tried to let you go."

Her brow furrowed at that odd speech. Her lips parted to question him, but she remained silent as she followed him further from the party.

Ryan paused in the garden near a bench. "Please sit."

Millie did so without a word of argument.

He kept hold of her hand as he stood before her. "I spoke with your father earlier."

Millie tilted her head to the side. "About?"

"I asked for his permission to ask for your hand in matrimony." Ryan knelt before her. "He said I have it along with his blessing. All I need now is you."

Millie's lips parted. "But you don't like me!"

"I do too!" He snapped. "Yes, you can drive a man to the very brink of insanity, but I would rather be driven crazy by the woman I love than one who I feel nothing for."

Millie's gasp slipped past her lips. "You love me?"

"Would I continuously put myself in your path if I had not already lost my heart to you?" He asked.

"Ryan!" She jumped into his arms and kissed him.

He pulled away for a moment. "This had better be a yes I love you too and want to marry you kiss, or so help me Millie I will--"

"It is!" She said, pulling him in for another kiss.

Just as he responded, she pushed him away. "What kind of morally ambiguous lady do you think I am to kiss a man I'm not intending to marry?!"

He crushed her to him as his mouth captured her lips. Lord Ryan found himself immensely pleased by how pleasant it was to silence her grumblings with such an action.

*****************

A few hours later, Thomas held his glass up. "A toast: to all of you who came this evening to help celebrate my good fortune in meeting the lady who has my heart." He lifted Amanda's hand to his lips. "To our family and friends for helping us plan this and our wedding." He smiled down at them. "And to the day after tomorrow when my new life begins."

Everyone cheered and drank one last toast to the couple before departing for the evening. Once there were only a few remaining, Ryan and Millie shared their own impending nuptials.

Lady Henrietta dabbed at her eyes as she spoke excitedly to Lucy about the need to start planning the moment Thomas and Amanda finished their vows.

While the group talked, Harriet leaned over to whisper to Chris. "It appears you have succeeded once more, sir."

"Indeed I have, Ms. Blake." His smile turned tender. "Indeed, I have."

****************

Night before the wedding...

Thomas hesitated at the connecting door between his room and Amanda’s. Knowing the superstitions of not allowing the groom to see his bride before the wedding, had him wondering if he should not join her this evening.

As if sensing his indecision, the door opened and Amanda smiled softly at him.

“I wondered if you were going to join me tonight.” She reached for his hand and tugged him into her room.

“I thought perhaps we should spend tonight apart.” He explained, watching her settle in her bed. “What with tradition and all.”

She laughed softly. “I think given our unusual courtship that we might be encouraging bad luck to visit us if we remained apart.” Her eyes met his. “Besides, I’m not certain that I can fall asleep without having you near.”

His gaze softened at her words, knowing he would not rest either if they were apart. Without another word of argument, he climbed into bed beside her.

The moment she was within his arms, he could feel his body relax once more. He brushed a tender kiss to her lips, smiling when she snuggled closer.

“Are you nervous?” she asked.

“About what?” Thomas leaned back some so he could see her face.

“About marrying me tomorrow?” Amanda gently caressed his cheek. “Most men seem to be a bit uneasy when faced with the loss of their freedom.”

“As I have told you numerous times, I cannot wait to have you as my wife.” His lips firmed into a frown. “The only way I would remotely feel uneasy facing my wedding is if it were any lady other than you.”

She propped herself up on her elbow and kissed him. “I am very happy to be marrying you tomorrow.” Her eyes held his. “I had no idea that I could have this much joy in my heart.”

Thomas urged her close for another kiss. He whispered his love for her then urged her to sleep.

Amanda settled within his arms, smiling at what awaited them in the morning.

****************

Thomas and Amanda's wedding day...

Time, like all things, seems to want to crawl by when there is something you are anxious about and yet seems to fly by in the moments one wishes to hold onto for eternity. For the couple awaiting their wedding day, it seemed to be a bit of both.

It seemed that no time had passed from the party to rushing about to get dressed for the chapel. Servants dashed about to finish their chores so that they could witness their viscount marry the lady they had come to respect and care for.

Lady Lucy was unable to do too much other than blubber into her handkerchief when she saw her niece in her wedding gown. She was appalled at her own behavior but seemed unable to stop.

"Aunt Lucy?" Amanda reached out for her.

"No dear!" Lucy jerked away. "Tears will ruin the satin." She accepted Henrietta's spare handkerchief. "You look perfect, my darling."

Amanda turned back around to critically study her reflection. The gown her aunt had designed for her seemed to showcase all her assets in the best possible way. The rich satin hung perfectly with glistening crystals throughout the skirt. The white material had hints of blue in it to keep her from appearing sallow.

Her lace veil draped over her carefully pinned curls and had a band of red roses holding it in place.

Millie sniffed back her own tears as she gently hugged her. "You look gorgeous."

Amanda returned her hug. "Thank you." She included her aunt and Lady Henrietta. "Thank you all for helping me."

Henrietta clucked her tongue and bustled about to keep her tears at bay. "I would have been upset if you hadn't needed me." She pressed a kiss to Amanda's cheek and fluffed her veil. "We will see you at the church." She gave a tearful smile as she tried to tease her friend. "I'll attempt to stop Lucy from sobbing."

"Oh!" Lucy swatted Hen's arm. "I would remind you of the mess you were when Michael and Cora wed." She gave a quick kiss to Amanda's cheek. "Don't let her dress get caught in the carriage door." She ordered Millie.

The two matrons left in a stream of tears, more teasing, and excitement.

Amanda's lady's maid, Peggy, came inside and dabbed at her own eyes. She went about the room, putting things away.

"Are you nervous?" Millie asked.

"In a way." Amanda admitted. "Not over Thomas, mind you. More nervous that something is bound to go wrong.” She let out a slightly tense laugh. “I’m more worried about tripping down the aisle and having that be what I remember whenever I think back over my wedding day.”

Millie laughed while squeezing her friend’s hands. “I believe Lord Thomas would not allow you to fall. If anything, your clumsiness would only add another sweet moment for your special day.”

Amanda hugged her once more. “What would I do without you?”

“Most likely still ignoring Lord Thomas’s argument that he loved you.” Millie grumbled.

Peggy smiled softly as the two young ladies continued to tease each other.

“I will be downstairs keeping a watch for the carriage, m'lady."

******************

Evil intent begins...

Outside Kirkwood Manor, Charles and John watched Lord Rawlings' carriage leave with the remaining wedding guests.

"Now." Charles whispered.

The two men, under Duke Viktor’s employment, crept into the servants' entrance and made their way up the back stairs.

The halls were deserted, save for the one maid they saw leaving a wing of the manor.

With a tilt of his head, John led the way, checking each bedroom they came to.

****************

Outside, near Kirkwood Manor...

"Every bride has to have flowers." Little Jane explained.

"That's why I picked these." Young Brandon held up a mixture of wildflowers and flowering weeds, some with the roots dangling.

"It's so pretty!" She clapped her hands together. "Lady Amanda will love it."

"We better hurry before she gets to the church." He told her, taking off at a run. "My mum said that brides always go last."

Jane sprinted after him, ordering him to be careful of the petals.

****************

Amanda checked the time again. "I do wish the carriage was already here." She paced about her quarters.

The door opened and she spun around with a smile. It dimmed to confusion at the two strange men that stood there.

She backed up toward the desk, blindly reaching for her letter opener when they came in and locked the door.

Millie came back into the main room after attending to her needs and froze. "Who--"

"We will have to take her to." One said. "She'll alert the entire town if we don't."

Amanda paled. "Don't hurt her."

Millie narrowed her eyes and jerked on the cord for the servants.

The one with an evil leer slowly shook his head. "You shouldn't have done that my lady." He backed her into the wall and struck her with his fist, knocking Millie out.

Amanda cried out in alarm, she swung around to jerk open a drawer for the letter opener, when a gag was tied over her mouth.

"Please, m'lady." The second man pleaded. "I don't want to hurt you." He gripped her hands and tied them behind her back.

Her eyes sparkled with tears as he tightened her bonds. She looked over her shoulder as Millie was swept over her abductor's shoulder.

"Hurry John." He ordered. "We are running out of time." He left the room.

John turned Amanda back around to face him. His hard expression softened when he looked into her fearful face. "I'll make sure the duke will do right by you."

Her brow furrowed as she tried to speak around her gag.

John threw a black cloak over her head and picked her up over his shoulder. He spoke calmly as she struggled against him.

"M'lady, it is no use. I will only hurt you more by tying your legs together if you don't stop. I don't want to have to do that to you."

She stilled.

"What--Who are--MR. BERGER!" Peggy screamed out when she saw John holding a tied up bundle. "MR. BERGER!"

John knocked Peggy down as he sped down the hall. He ducked out to the servants stairs and nearly jumped down them.

Amanda let out cries of pain each time her ribs hit his shoulder. She tried to brace herself as best she could.

The cloak slipped off of her when they burst outside. She blinked against the bright sunlight and saw two faces looking up at her in shock.

She tried to speak around her gag for them to hide, cursing the fact her hands were tied behind her back.

John didn't see them as he continued to run toward the plain carriage. He could hear the shouts of servants behind him.

"Take her!" He all but tossed Amanda at Charles so he could scramble up and take the reins.

Charles dumped her into the carriage before resuming his seat with John.

With a few flicks of a whip, the carriage lurched forward, dumping Amanda into the floor.

As she struggled to sit up and get her veil out of her face, she heard a laugh that caused a chill to run down her spine.

Hands grasped her arms and set her in the seat. They then brushed her hair out of her eyes and tossed her veil out the window. Amanda looked next to her at a still unconscious Millie, now bound and gagged.

"I am glad you decided to join me, Lady Amanda." Viktor chuckled at his own humor. "I'm sure Lord Hunt will understand within the next hour that I was right. You did decide on marrying a better man."

#none but you #Thomas Hunt #thomas hunt x amanda #thomas hunt x oc #rcd thomas hunt #choices thomas hunt #thomas hunt rcd #rcd regency au #regency

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sherlockfanficwriting · 4 years

Text

Dracula “Is it Love?” Part II

Summary - Following the preceding events of Part I of the spin-off of Netflix’s Dracula, you welcome yourself into another day at the enchanting home of Dracula. You find yourself even more mesmerized by him, as he does you, but is the bliss short-lived or will it stay? Will danger soon cross the different paths that you share?

Warnings - nothing..yet

A/N - Part I was a pretty good hit and I am so happy that all of you enjoyed it because I definitely loved writing it! If only there were more episodes like the first one. This one is more of getting to know each other and nothing dangerous..yet. I have been ungodly busy with exams and am getting through stories at a slow pace, but I wanted to pop a few ones out, with the Dracula ones being my favorite. I am doing ur sherlock requests too! If you want more of these - send me a message or request what you would like! @punk-courtesan @lasgaleniel @carydorse

Late at night after you were peacefully sleeping, Dracula had a conversation with Albert. It wasn’t just any conversation. It revolved around you. Dracula saved you from danger. He saved your life, but it didn’t stop there. He did it because you were special. He couldn’t figure it out. He didn’t even think he would ever figure it out.

“What is your plan?” Albert asked.

Dracula stared at his hands then faced his gaze up at the ceiling. “I’m thinking.”

“You could make it simple.”

“I need to give her a reason to stay.”

Albert moved closer to Dracula. “She wants to. You just have to get it out of her.”

Dracula nodded to himself. “I will. I need to find exactly why she’s so special. It’s not just a charismatic personality. I’ve been with a lot of women before. You see how it turns out.”

Albert sighed. “Death. Yes, I know.” He sat down across from Dracula. “I sense something.”

“What is it?”

“A coming. Soon. Can’t you feel it?”

Dracula couldn’t He had been so caught up on you. “I can’t. Is it dangerous?”

Albert pursed his lips. “I can’t tell. I don’t think it’s the best.”

“We’ll know what to do. You’ll have to watch out. More so for her, not us. She’s not one of us.”

“I know. What if she finds out?” Albert asked.

Dracula pondered. “She won’t.”

“What if?”

“I’m hoping it wouldn’t change anything, but I know she would be terrified. I can’t let anyone hurt her.”

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

The light sound of distant birds chirping awoke your senses. You blinked your eyes twice, slowly opening them to a bright window. The sky was a bright white with traces of the blue abyss hiding behind it. The curtain was closed halfway, giving you plenty of light to see. You rolled over, stretching your arms and legs. You noticed another blanket on you.

Dracula

The events of yesterday suddenly came back hitting you. The forest. The night. Him. You smiled. You enjoyed being with him. He was different. You couldn’t believe how profoundly kind he was to you. You swung your legs on the side of the bed and stood up. You almost tripped over and realized you were still wearing the same dress as yesterday. The condition wasn’t perfect. You held a piece of the fabric, noticing the grass and dirt stains on it. There was a small rip on the bottom. You unbuttoned the top of it, releasing your neck from the strain. You took a few steps to the door. Your ankle was much better, but it still hurt you. And by touching your arm you felt it healed quickly overnight.

You opened the door and slowly walked out. You could practically see nothing. The hallway was dark. Faint light escaped from small windows. You didn’t even know what time it was.

I hope I didn’t sleep in

You kept your hand on the wall as you continued walking. You had a slight idea where a few rooms were located in the castle. After walking for twenty more feet, you found the steps. It was dark, but you managed to walk down without falling. You hoped that Dracula was here, but you weren’t entirely sure. The downstairs was brighter with numerous candles illuminating the air. Even by looking at them, you shivered. It was deathly cold. You walked into the dining room, where you ate with him last night. You didn’t see anyone so you walked into the kitchen where you thought Albert would be. You were certain they left or for all you knew, they could be sleeping. You sat on one of the kitchen chairs and looked at your hands, twidling with them.

“Well, there you are!”

You looked up and saw Albert standing at the passageway from the dining room. You smiled at him.

“I’m sorry, Albert. What time is it?”

He walked closer to the table and said, “About seven. I didn’t think you would wake up this early. Did you sleep well?”

You nodded. “Very well.”

“Your arm is feeling well too and your ankle?”

“Just like new.”

Albert smiled at you and walked to the stove. “I imagine you’re hungry.”

“I’m really not hungry, but thank you, Albert. Do you know where Dracula is?” You asked.

Albert turned around and hesitantly said, “I think he went -.”

Suddenly someone cut him off and said, “You were looking for me?” You faced the area of sound and saw Dracula standing by the passageway. He was wearing all black. As soon as you met his eyes you couldn’t help but reveal a wide smile. You walked up to him and hugged him, squeezing his waist. You felt him tense up. His body was stiff and cold, but you didn’t mind. He wrapped his arms around you, slowly relaxing. Inside, he was overjoyed to see you.

You released him and looked him in the eyes again. He still kept his hands on your waist, smiling at you.

“Are you feeling fine? Your ankle doesn’t hurt?” He asked you, releasing his hands. The last thing he wanted was for you to be in any more pain than you already had been.

You nodded. “Thank you again. I really can’t thank you enough.”

He shook his head. “No need to thank me, dear. It’s all my pleasure.”

“Count, did you sleep well?” Albert asked. He looked confused.

“Very well. Did you prepare anything for her?”

Albert stuttered. “I- well she.”

“I’m not hungry. I’m really fine.” You lied. You were completely starving.

“You must tell me when you need anything. I must leave to run a few errands, but I will be back soon.” He held your hands, giving them a squeeze and walked to the door. Dracula didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay with you. He wanted to see you smile and laugh. He wanted to hold you, but he would have to wait until later.

“I should probably go too.” You said.

He stopped dead in footsteps and turned around. “Go? Where?” A look of despair washed over him. He didn’t want you to leave anywhere.

You had to be realistic to yourself. You knew he wanted you to stay. You wanted to stay too, but this wasn’t your home. You hadn’t been in contact with your friend for a while either. That was the reason you ended up here, but you were glad it happened. You just didn’t know what to do.

You walked closer to him. “This isn’t my home. I loved my time here. I couldn’t thank you or Albert enough. I love being with you more than you could know.” Dracula knew you were being honest and polite, but he wanted to tell you that this was your home. Everything was yours as much as his. He needed to entice you to stay. You couldn’t leave him just yet.

He looked at you. The sparkle of his eyes dimmed. “I understand.”

His initial statement surprised you.

“This is your home as much as it’s mine. You are always welcome here, but I implore you to stay longer. I didn’t have much time to spend with you yesterday. I wanted to show you more things, do things with you, and take you places.” His voice was deep with emotion. You felt horrible at what you said to him. What were you even saying?

“Will you grant me that chance?” He asked.

“Yes. Absolutely. I want to do things with you. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t just leave all of a sudden.”

He smiled. “I understand. I know you wouldn’t.” He walked closer to the door, still facing you. “Must I remind you, I’ll return quickly and then we’ll have time.” You stood there, watching him leave. As soon as you lost sight of him, your heart ached. You turned around to see Albert. He hadn’t moved as he leaned on the table.

“He wants you to stay. You should.”

You sat down. “I know. I want to. I will.”

He sat down across from you. “Consider staying longer. He likes to be with you. I’ve never seen him like that.”

“Like what exactly.”

Albert waited a few seconds to respond then took a deep breath. “He lights up when he sees you. You’re all he talks about. You’re very similar, the two of you. I know you feel the same way.”

Your cheeks felt hot and your heart beat faster. It was true. “I’m happy. I do feel the same way.”

Albert kindly smiled at you. “He never goes out in day time either.”

“What? Why?” A look of confusion quickly spread across your face.

Albert’s eyes widened. “Well- I- it’s just, he isn’t much of a morning person. That’s all.”

You laughed. You could tell. “How long have you known him?”

Albert got up from his chair and walked to the counter. “Many years. He helped me out when I was a young lad. I like it here.” He opened a cabinet and rummaged through it.

“I feel like I know him, but I don’t. There’s just something that’s so different about him. I can’t figure it out.”

“He’s a special man as I’m certain you know. You don’t know everything about him which is another reason to stay.” He chuckled. “He cares for you deeply. Quite odd since you just met each other in a near deathly situation, but what can I say?”

“You’re not wrong. I care about him too.”

“Oh, I can tell.” He said, laughing. He turned around, holding two bowls with different utensils in them. “This is his favorite. A simple vanilla cake. I say you make it for him.” He raised his eyebrow at you.

“What a smart idea. But only if you help me.” You smiled at him, grabbing the bowls and setting them on the table. Albert gathered ingredients as you read the recipe from a torn sheet. The two of you tediously worked on the dessert as you talked and laughed about your friends and family and Albert told you funny things about himself and Dracula.

Albert bent down to pull the cake out of the oven. He placed the tray on the table. The sweet aroma filled your senses with pleasure.

“Work well done,” Albert said, putting some plates away.

“I agree. This was fun. When do you imagine he’s coming back?” You asked.

Albert continued putting things away. “I would say no more than an hour. He’s quick.”

“What does he do?”

Albert was silent. “Today he had to meet someone with something about business. You know, I really don’t get too involved with his things.”

You could tell Albert didn’t want to talk about it. It didn’t really matter to you though. You helped him clean the table up and gather more ingredients.

“I can ice now, but I do believe you would like something else to wear?” He asked.

“It’s not so much an important matter.” You replied.

He scoffed. “Don’t say that. You don’t have to be reserved anymore. It is perfectly fine. In your room is a closet I believe you noticed, yes?”

A closet?

You couldn’t remember, but it was in your nature not to be a fuss. “Yes, I remember.”

“Yes, great. In there are a few pieces of clothing I’m sure would fit you. I believe it was his mother’s or something passed down. You could find what you like.” He began humming as he prepared the icing. You liked Albert and thought he was kind for doing this. You walked through the dining room to the main stairs and began walking up. It wasn’t as dark as earlier and you could see each step visibly. You reached the top step and looked down the hallway. Nothing looked familiar anymore. You chose a random hallway to walk down and found yourself entangled in the center of a maze of corridors. You started to panic as you walked backward and forwards to the left and to the right. Everything looked the same. You passed doors but didn’t want to look in them. It wasn’t your house. You had to respect privacy. You were certain if you shouted Albert’s name, he wouldn’t hear you. The castle was far too big. You continued walking down one hallway and remembered your room was on the left near a dead end. You searched for one for what seemed like forever. Suddenly, you saw a similar door where you remembered it to be earlier. It was closed. You placed your hand on the knob, which was cold. You twisted it open and sighed in relief. There, the same bed you slept in was. You closed the door and looked across. Just like Albert said was another room. You opened it and were greeted by much colder air. It was similar to your room in that it had a window but much smaller. The window looked upon an abyss of a forest full of dark green trees. You noticed a tall wardrobe which you assumed was what Albert was talking about.

You lightly placed your hand on the handle and opened it. You felt dust particles hit your face, causing you to cough. You saw a few pieces of clothing hung up. You ran your hands through them. You felt silk and soft fabric. You shifted through them. They were all beautiful. You didn’t want to choose something too fancy. After all, these weren’t yours. You chose a long black dress with loose sleeves. You quickly changed into it, folding the dress you were already in. You decided to hang it up. You were surprised at how the dress fit you perfectly. It was only as if it was made for you. You didn’t find it odd how he had all these dresses in here, but you resonated with what Albert said. They were passed down and probably meant much to him. You walked back into the hallway and closed the door. You dreaded the idea of having to go back into the neverending maze of corridors, but you had no choice. It was perplexing to you how as you continued walking on it seemed as if new rooms and hallways were made as you turned the corner. You kept your hand on the wall, trying not to get more lost as you already were. Every time you thought you saw the stairs, it was just another door.

Just give up

You were losing your temperate more with every step you took. How could he have so many rooms? What could he possibly have in them? You turned another corner and were immediately greeted with a tall door you thought would be an exit. You opened it and walked into a large room with incredibly high ceilings. You looked around. There were no windows, but a few candles which illuminated the room. You thought it was odd. You walked closer to the middle of the room, looking around when suddenly you stopped. You saw a long box on the ground. You walked closer to it and quietly gasped. It looked like a casket. What if someone was inside? Why is it here? You thought about Dracula and everything about him.

It’s nothing

He was old fashioned. It was something probably passed down. It wasn’t as strange as it initially was to you. You slowly walked away and closed the door. You frantically looked around. The hallway seemed to have changed. You walked past another corner and saw the main stairs right in front of you. You swore your mind was playing games with you. You quickly ran to the steps as if it would disappear in any second. You walked to the bottom, your dress barely above the floor. You sighed in relief as you walked through the familiar dining room to the kitchen. Albert, who was sitting reading a book, looked up at you.

“I was getting worried. You took quite long.”

You had never been happier in your life than you were when you saw the stairs. “I just got lost. I made a wrong turn.” You said with a light laugh, trying not to sound too disturbed. You weren’t going to tell him about the casket you saw. You weren’t even supposed to go inside another room.

“The dress was made for you. That’s definitely your color, love.” He said.

You smiled at him. “I like it a lot. And the color.” You walked closer to the table, noticing the finished cake. “I can confidently say you’re a master at making these.”

Albert blushed. “I’ve haven’t had someone compliment my cooking for a while. I know you’re waiting for him. I wouldn’t say it’s any longer. You've been quite patient.”

“I don’t want to get in the way with anything. Don’t worry.”

“Do you like to read?”

“Only good books.”

Albert laughed. “There’s a small library near the balcony where you were yesterday. You might be able to pass time quickly there.”

You smiled at him and took off. The library was larger than you expected. It was certainly not your definition of “small”. Books of every size filled each wall from top to bottom. There was a chair in the center of the room with a small table to match it. You noticed a window behind the chair and stood on a ledge to pull the curtain up. Light from the white sky illuminated the room and gazed upon the chair. You walked around the room looking at the ancient books. You barely recognized half of them. You noticed one green book, not in line with the others. Picking it up, you saw it was a book that you knew. You sat on the chair, clutching the book, and opened it up. It was odd that he had a book from the early 19th century, but it didn’t bother you. Dracula was old fashioned, and you liked it. You flipped through the first few pages, skimming the text, being reminded of the first time you read it.

“I see you like the spot.” He came home and immediately came to look for you. When he saw you, a flush of pure innocence ran over him. He enjoyed seeing you on his chair, flipping through a book.

You immediately looked up at the door and saw Dracula standing there, smiling at you. You closed the book and said, “I like it. You have an interesting collection.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad you say so.”

You got up from the chair and placed the book where it was then walked over to him. “I’m sorry I had to go away for some time.” He stated. He sounded terribly sorry.

You grabbed his hand and held it in yours. “It’s nothing to be sorry about. I had a memorable time with Albert. I hope you don’t mind me wearing this, I didn’t want to, but he insisted.”

“It was made for you. The color. Everything. You look lovely as always.”

You felt your face grow warmer. “I made something for you.”

He playfully gasped and asked, “For me?”

You laughed and walked out of the room, motioning him to follow. You entered the kitchen and stepped aside for him to see what you and Albert made.

“I hope you like it.” You said. As soon as he saw it a wide smile appeared over his face as he walked over to it. Albert stood on the side, grinning at you.

“I must say I was surprised when she made it.” Albert said. You grabbed a knife and utensils and placed them on the table for Dracula. He took them and began cutting slices.

“This is my favorite dessert. Thank you.” He said to you, his glimmer meeting your eyes. You didn’t say anything except look back at them. He placed pieces on the plates and sat down, immediately biting into the cake while relishing every bit.

“Oh, you must try it, dear.” He motioned you to sit down and you did. You were impressed at the distinct taste it had and savored it all. You felt so much better now that he was here. Just being by him made you feel safe, but it was not only that. You really liked him.

“I have someplace to take you,” He said, pushing his plate aside. “It’s a surprise.”

“I think I’ll like it.” You said.

“I’m certain you will.” He stood up and thanked Albert. You stood near him and walked next to him as you left the kitchen. He walked to the large front door and entered a small room nearby. The room had a tall wardrobe that he opened, pulling out a long black cloak for him.

“It’s terribly cold outside and you must wear something.” He shifted his hands through the clothes and unhooked a cloak that was nearly identical to his, but just smaller. He lifted it up, widening it for you to put your arms through, which you did. You already felt warmer wearing it.

“Now we are ready.” He took your hand and walked back to the door. It opened with a slam. You walked across to the stone ground outside. It was about sunset time, but there was no sun. The sky was already dark with blue hues. The moon, almost full, shined above, illuminating the land.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“Not too far.”

You held his arm as he began walking and felt him relax. You walked down the hill and through the field behind the castle. It was a pleasant setting. You didn’t know you could like the night time so much. As you neared another corner, Dracula stopped you and stepped in front of you.

“Close your eyes.” He said. You smiled and closed them. He held on to you walked on so you don’t fall. After a few more steps, he stopped you again.

“Open them.”

Your eyes were blessed with heaven. Stood in front of you was a large lake. Mountains were in the distance, encompassing the whole area. The moonlight shined on the whole lake. Tall trees circled on the side.

“It’s so beautiful. I love it.” You walked away from him and near the water to a large rock. You hopped up and sat on it, mesmerized by the water.

You turned around and patted the rock for him to sit next to you. Dracula liked to see you happy. He felt as if that was his purpose. Nothing touched him more than that. He walked up to the rock and sat next to you. You turned and smiled at him. His heart beat faster. That was the one thing that killed him. Your smile. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close to him. Your body was cold, which troubled him. He pulled you tighter.

“Do you come here a lot?” You asked him. You stared at the slight ripples of water.

“All the time.”

You didn’t want to get up and leave. You didn’t want to go anywhere else. You wanted to disconnect from everywhere and stay with him. Words cannot explain how you felt about him. You wished to tell him but worried it wasn’t proper to say. You wanted to make the moment last forever. You unwrapped your arm around him and looked into his eyes. Without any hesitation, you placed your hand on his shoulder and pressed your lips on his, kissing him.

Dracula was initially surprised by your sudden move, but he most definitely enjoyed it. He kept his arms around your waist and passionately kissed you back. You pulled back and looked at him. You felt nothing but love for him. His feelings matched yours.

“I’m sorry. I really wanted to do that.” You tried to be polite.

He shook his head and laughed. “I wanted to do that too.” He wanted to do that from the first time you talked and laughed with him. He could only think about it until now.

Suddenly a wolf loudly howled in the distance. Your body shook. Dracula sensed that you were scared.

“I have a few more things I’d like to do with you.” He stepped off the rock and held his hand for you to step down. You walked back to the castle and stayed close to him, pressing your body against his. After walking up the hill with him, the door to the castle opened. You felt like you were in heaven. Dracula wanted to be with you. He kept replaying in his mind what had just happened.

Albert walked near the door to where the two of you were.

“Hello, Albert.” You said. He nodded at you and breathed shakily.

“Count, you have a letter.” His voice was strong but you could tell for some reason he was nervous. Dracula took the letter and walked away. You didn’t follow him, but you knew it was something important.

Or something bad.

64 notes · View notes

httphonsool · 4 years

Text

red velvet cookies

synopsis; in which you would love to stop loving min yoongi, but those damned red velvet cookies are not helping

word count: 5, 127

time taken: 5 hours

warnings: angst, heartache, unrequited love I suppose, roommate!Yoongi, Student!Yoongi, I suppose there’s some Fboy!Yoongi if you wanna think about it like that and there’s implied smut so beware aha

notes;Okay, so this took me like five hours from yesterday and today altogether and I guess I’m happy with the result, lemme know what you think and feel free to suggest ideas for more imagines/one-shots/short series :)))

I’ll try and make a masterlist or something to keep up with all the fics

It was never soft with him, no, interacting with this man had always been blunt and harsh as if you were treading on fragile ice, just waiting for things to come crashing down around you, at certain times you felt like the tension was building up; maybe today was the day it would all blow up, after all, the relationship the two of you had built throughout the year and six months you had been living together was insecure, vulnerable, the little interaction between the two of you precious and unreliable, yet you still yearned for more, though you knew what you wanted would not be given to you; that you were being selfish and greedy, you knew should have respected it for what it was, but the heart always wants more, you couldn’t blame your heart for that, right?

All you wanted was to have a…stronger relationship with this man, you wanted the precious, fragile interactions to grow with this man- this man that was strange, a mystery to the naked eye, a man who you would only know if you were around him more than often, and thank God you could say that you were around him more than anyone else, this man had mastered the act of hating you, precisely just because he did, and it hurt more than anything to know that.

He would come back from classes (He’s majoring in Music Production, another beautiful reason you want him closer to you), completely ignoring you all the while, even when you said hello and asked him how his day had been, especially when you ask him how his day’s been, all you want is for him to complain about his day to you God, you would give anything, anything to listen to his voice, his soothing voice.

His voice, that deserves millions and billions of poems and literature written about it on its own, to you: it’s perfection, it calms you; reminds you of how the waves crash on rocks, listening to it makes you giddy like a high school girl, makes you feel like you’re floating in clouds, like you’re frolicking through a meadow with the love of your life. His voice brings you comfort, more comfort than any Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough ice cream could ever bring you. My God, you remember the first time you heard him laugh, yet it wasn’t because of you, no, how could it? No, it was that stupid, dumb, sorority girl: you were sitting on the couch binge-watching Teen Wolf (because who doesn’t love Stiles Stilinski, Dylan O’Brien was hot), he came in with his dear old Stephanie into your slightly spacious apartment which somehow you’ve managed to afford, she made some dumb joke about you about how she honestly doesn’t know how he manages to live with you because you disgust him and he laughed, very hard, he laughed because he was drowning in the way this Becky girl was basically made for him, had the same sense of humour, perfect in looks (whereas you disgusted him for some reason) and you were drowning because your heart wrenched, no, it ached because this, for you, confirmed you’d never be able to make him happy like that, for God’s sake he didn’t even like you, he thought you were disgusting, the definition of disgusting, as good old Stephanie had said. You couldn’t be mad at him though, how could you? How could you when that laugh gave you life? Dragged you out of your darkest nightmare, filled you with pure joy on your worst day? Though, you still felt like complete and utter shit due to her comment, all was made better when you found several tubs of Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough ice cream in the freezer, you didn’t know whether Yoongi had brought it for himself (you assumed he had) or whether it was for you, because you had been crying earlier in your room, although, you were hoping no one had heard you as you had been embarrassed enough in the moment, you took the ice cream anyway because even if it made Yoongi angry that you stole what was his, at least he would notice you, at least he would acknowledge you for the first time in weeks.

☆

The second time you heard him laugh was when he was talking to his mother, ah, his mother, at least she acknowledged you, you remember the first time she met you whilst visiting her beloved Yoongi, she had brought you red velvet cookies, your favourite, you didn’t know whether she knew those were your favourite but it did make you feel as if you were loved for once, since Yoongi wasn’t capable of loving someone like you, and God damn, those cookies were better than the store bought ones you always got, after a while, his mother’s visits became more frequent and not only for her son, but for you too, your frequent ‘Mrs. Min’ became ‘Eomma,’ because she felt that you were basically her child at this point, and you were hoping, praying, begging that this would maybe also bring you closer to this Min Yoongi man that had claimed your heart- no, had claimed soul, your heart and your body and mind completely and utterly because of the way he acted around others, it may not have been healthy but it was the whole truth, one that would always haunt you.

You don’t know when you fell for him, to be honest you didn’t want to, your entire life you were trying to best to stay away from boys. In your mind, all they did was cause trouble: you’d seen countless women in your life crying because a man had broken their heart, you remember seeing your best friend, your best friend, a girl whom you’d known for almost your whole life, crying because her boyfriend had cheated on her, she claimed she loved him, poor soul thought it was her fault, that it was because she wasn’t good enough and you never understood that until you met Yoongi, sure you dated other guys, but you never dated someone for longer than a month, claiming they’ll break your heart, which is a joke now that you look at how long you’ve been living with Yoongi, how long you’ve been pining after him with love that you cannot even begin to describe.

☆

You don’t know what it was or how it started, maybe it was the way he was so warm to his friends, the way he would take care of them, often letting them sleep over if they were drunk or inviting them over and cooking for them just because they hadn’t eaten, maybe it was the way he would take to his mother every night before bed and laugh and talk to her with so much respect and love, maybe it was the small things he did: how he would leave a painkiller somewhere near you every single time you complained about your headache or any pain in general, or like how sometimes you and your friend would go out and get drunk (usually you would drink with the pain of loving Yoongi on your mind) and you would wake up with hangover shots by your bedside, or like the time you fell asleep crying on the couch and you woke up in your bed comfortably tucked in, but no, oh God no, don’t mistake those small gestures for his care, no he does that because he’s a good person, you know that, you know he probably does it for all the girls he’s dated (there’s a lot of them, and that proves he’s more than capable of loving anyone except you, and that really fricken hurts).

Maybe that’s why you’re sitting in front of him on the kitchen counter right now, observing him as he eats.

“Hey,” You smile at him; you know there won’t be a reply, at least not one longer than a second. He briefly looks into your eyes, a stone hard expression blooming on his face.

“How was your day?” You ask, honestly, why do you bother? Oh, right, because you’re in love with him.

Stupid girl, still trying for him even after all this time, you think.

“It was okay,” Hold on a minute, you think you just made history; he’s actually talking to you.

Maybe it was just a really good day, your thoughts wander.

“Was class fun?” You ask hesitantly, you could cut the tension with a knife at this point, all parties could feel it. You don’t get a reply this time, but you’re satisfied with the fact that he ever replied at all.

You still can’t comprehend how you could love him this much, how you could bend your back, break your bones for a man who has the capability to love anyone but you, you still can’t comprehend why you still make him breakfast when you’re leaving early for class, why you still bake red velvet cookies (his mother gave you the recipe) and make loads of extras for him because all of a sudden since you first met his mother it became his favourite as well (at least, that’s according to his mother), you can’t comprehend why you still make him lunch and dinner while he’s out, why you’re always playing with his dog because sometimes Yoongi is busy out somewhere (you don’t know where, you never know where) maybe with a girl, and his dog needs the attention, you do it because you love him, also because you love his dog, Holly, but you’ve come to realise Min Holly and Min Yoongi have claimed your heart completely, clutching it with a grasp that was squeezing the life out of you because my God did you love Yoongi, and at times you wish you had never even spared a glance at him, that you had ignored him and taken up the offer of the date that a male friend of yours had offered, because ignoring people seems to be working out fricking amazingly for him.

So now, as you sit on your bed after the hopeful kitchen situation, you can’t help but think about how screwed you are, because today marks a year and six months of living with Yoongi and yet you’re still not done with him, not over him like you wish you would be, but wait- there was a way was there not? You had been offered a date the other night with one of your close guy friends: turns out he’d liked you for almost a year now and oh how you wished you had just fallen for him instead and not Goddamn Yoongi, but it’s okay because you told him you’d get back to him.

And get back to him you will.

“Hey, Baekhyun? I don’t know if you remembered but…”

☆

You’re standing in front of Yoongi’s bedroom door, ready to tell him you’ll be out for the night and to tell him that he needs to wash the dishes while you’re out because you’ll be staying out late, of course, he doesn’t need to know you’re going on a date, but for some reason you just want this to be your last attempt at him, you want him to be bothered by the fact that you’re on a date, you want him to stop you from going on that date, of course, you know it’s ridiculous, because Min Yoongi doesn’t like girls like you, actually no that’s wrong; Min Yoongi doesn’t like you, as in you specifically. You turn the door handle, the ice cold material burning a hole through your hands, your whole body shaking at the sight of him because WOW Min Yoongi was so beautiful it was angelic, his perfect silver hair balanced and rooted on his head, his golden skin glistening in the dim glow of his ceiling light, his eyes, usually stone cold when he stares at you but right now as he’s working on some kind of song with headphones in a small smile planted on his face, he looks content- something you could never, and I mean never make him, because remember: Min Yoongi, doesn’t like you, as in you specifically.

He can feel your stare on him burning holes through his head, and you swear you’ve never seen him whip his neck to look at you that quick.

“What is it?” He asks, wow, look at that he speaks once more; you smile as you reflect on it.

“I just wanted to let you know I was going on a date, so would you mind doing the dishes because I’ll probably be out late,” you answer hesitantly.

Nothing, he says nothing, he just nods and turns away, and you’ve never felt shittier than you do now because damn, not even you going on a date all prettied up can make him interested in you, and that’s when you know for sure: Min Yoongi really doesn’t care about you, and that was the final stab in the gut, except the stab came with pain, absolutely excruciating pain as if you had broken your ribs and shattered your collar bones but multiply that by a million.

Min Yoongi doesn’t love you back, and he never will.

☆

Your date wasn’t special, it wasn’t even close to being good, maybe it was because you were still wholly devoted to loving Yoongi who you just couldn’t get rid of, Min Yoongi was like the annoying piece of gum that sticks to the back of your shoe and takes a while to get off, the only difference is he won’t fricking get off, and you’re tired of it, because you could have moved on with beautiful Baekhyun, Baekhyun who claimed to have liked you for almost a year, Baekhyun who could have loved you and cherished you more than Yoongi ever could, because Baekhyun was showing you that he liked you, loved you even, but if Yoongi didn’t love you, could anyone, really?

You didn’t know what it was, why it was, even, but the whole mood was off the entire night, it wasn’t Baekhyun’s fault no, no, it was Yoongi’s, because the entire time you’d been talking to Baekhyun, all you’d been thinking about was Yoongi’s gummy, wholesome smile, how Baekhyun could never compare to him, because Yoongi was Yoongi, Yoongi was the man you were in love with, the man you would break yourself for because you just loved him that much even though you really, truly wish you didn’t, but the heart wants what it wants, and your heart really, really wants Yoongi.

But now, this date had brewed up a new emotion inside of you: anger. You were angry because of your inability to stop loving Yoongi, you were angry because Yoongi always would and always will occupy your thoughts when he’s not around, angry because why, why couldn’t you move on? You thought this would work, that maybe Baekhyun could shift the entire centre of your world, you thought maybe he was the trigger you needed to pull to finally be able to move on, apparently not so because even after a date with Baekhyun at some fancy restaurant where you did fancy things like drink wine and talk about your day (something you never did with Yoongi, because Yoongi didn’t care), you were still deep down the rabbit hole which was named Loving Yoongi, because that man had claimed you whether you wanted it or not, whether he cared or not, you were in love.

And, boy, you really wish you weren’t.

☆

So now, as you stand outside your apartment door as Baekhyun kisses your cheek and wishes you a good night, you can’t help but wish that maybe… just maybe Yoongi will talk to you about it, maybe there was still a chance, though you know that there was absolutely no chance of you and Yoongi at this point, but the alcohol you’ve consumed throughout the night is blurring your thoughts and even though it was only three glasses of wine you can’t help but not think straight, and unfortunately the alcohol acts for you when you walk in and see Yoongi surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol, eyes rimmed with red, tears streaking his cheeks whilst holding an almost empty bottle of wine and the first thing you want to do is run forwards and cradle your poor baby in your arms even though you know you shouldn’t because he won’t want that but, surprisingly, as your drunken state forces you to take him into your arms and stroke your hands through his hair, his soft, luscious hair, he easily complies, letting you take him in, sobs wracking his body whilst your heart wrenches and God, you felt selfish to even think of it because your baby was hurting so much but you think you’re hurting more than him because it’s like someone’s just twisted a knife in your gut but worse. So, hushed whispers are exchanged along with words of support because he’s Yoongi, your Yoongi, and you’re in love with him and you just want to help.

“Di-did you have fun?” He’s still crying and his usual soothing voice that brings you comfort is now bringing you pain,

“God, it doesn’t matter, what’s wrong, please tell me,” You’re crying now too, because seeing the man you’re in love with, seeing your Min Yoongi, the man that barely ever smiles at you, crying is making you hurt more than any other action he’s done.

“I hope you had fun, ___, and I’m sorry, you told me to do the dishes but I-I haven’t, I’m sorry,” His sobs get louder with each words and your heart is aching, no, it’s shattering because your boy is crying, he’s broken and drunk and you’ve never seen him like this, and it’s terrifying you to death.

“Yoongi,” you whisper softly into his ear, “I don’t care about the dishes, I care about you, you stupid boy, I’ve always cared about you, wasn’t it obvious?” Your head’s telling you shouldn’t be saying this, you know you shouldn’t but here you are still spilling your guts out to him, whilst he’s drunk, I mean it’s not bad, at least this way maybe he’ll forget it, ha, if only you knew.

“___, I can’t seem to do anything right,” He’s stopped crying now, now there are just silent tears trickling down his beautiful, angelic face, “I try my best for you, ___, I buy you that Cookie Dough Ice Cream when I know you’re down, and I hate to tell you because I know you love her but my mother doesn’t always make you the red velvet cookies you love so much, no, the last few times, I was the one that made them because I know how much you love them, and God, I love them too now because I feel like that’s the only part of you I deserve to have, you always make me extras and it always manages to make me happy, but I can’t even say thank you to you for it because then I’ll get attached t-to you, to be honest I’m already addicted to you, but I can’t get deeper than I already am, I know that, but I’m such a fuck up, I don’t even deserve to be within three meters of you, I always used to tell my mother about you, you know? She wanted to hear about the girl who had me acting like I was fifteen again, and-and you know all those girls I brought around, well they were just to prove that I was capable of loving someone, but yet you still don’t want me, no, you want that guy that obviously treats you right, I mean, I don’t blame you, I deserve this,” My god, wasn’t that a shock, yet even after all of that all your brain could do was-

“I love you, Min Yoongi.”

And that’s what started it; the moment his lips met yours it was like being stuck in the middle of a fire, you wouldn’t say you felt fireworks like they do in every cliché romance novel because you knew even in your drunken state that it was better than fireworks, of course, no, this was like a bomb filled with passion and pure bliss and exploded in your body, he tasted like alcohol and cinnamon and sugar and all the sweet, blissful things in the world, he tasted like something you had been missing your entire life: the secret ingredient to your recipe you called unrequited love, he penetrated your senses until you couldn’t breathe anymore, you were drunk, yes, but even more drunk and high off of him. Things escalate fast, so fast that the next thing you know is that you’re making out with Min Yoongi, the man you love the Man you will always love, and then he’s slipping off your dress, leaving not much else to the imagination, pulling off your panties and-

“I want to lose my virginity to you,” you spill out.

“Are you sure?” He asks, “We can stop, don’t feel forced,”

“Yes,” Ha, should’ve said no.

☆

When you wake up the next morning he’s gone, you don’t remember much of the night, just the important parts, like how you’re no longer a virgin, and most definitely do you remember that you lost it to Min Yoongi, but now he’s gone, the place beside you where you were one thousand percent sure he slept was now cold, your blood curdles, because before you felt angry, angry at Min Yoongi for capturing your heart, but now? Now you just feel like a whore.

He doesn’t care about you, remember?

Of course, this was your fault, you should have said no to him, but how could you? How could you ever say no to Min Yoongi? But you should have, because now you’re left with a hangover and no virginity with hangover shots on the bedside next to you (for God’s sake Min Yoongi, why couldn’t you be a complete asshole for once in your life and let you down completely) and the only thing you remember is coming back from a date with Baekhyun and sleeping with Yoongi, nothing more, nothing less, just those two things.

Hours pass and there’s no other sign of life in the apartment other than you, it feels cold without Yoongi, yet the heating has been turned all the way up, ha, just another reason to need him back, right?

Days pass and Yoongi isn’t back yet, there’s no sign of him and you’ve been skipping classes because you can’t deal with the emptiness in your heart, the hole in the shape of Min Yoongi expanding every time you thought of him.

Exactly a week later Yoongi’s back except he’s not alone, he’s with a girl and that’s the last straw for you, you’re done with it because you’d have thought that since he took your fucking virginity he would have at least talked to you about that but no, he decides that he should bring some girl back home, back home as in where he lives where surprisingly the girl who’s virginity he took also lived.

The girl was gorgeous, she was the exact opposite of you, and that’s how you were always reminded he would never want you, because he only likes girls that aren’t you, remember?

The night he comes back you find freshly baked red velvet cookies waiting on the counter along with good old Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough ice cream, something vague comes back to you, something about Mrs. Min not being the one that bakes the cookies…but that’s stupid, absolutely ridiculous, and you know that you’re just whipping up things in your head for no reason like usual, because the only person other than Mrs. Min who knows how to make red velvet cookies is you, because you love making them for yourself, of course, but you mainly made them because Min Yoongi loves red velvet cookies.

Red velvet cookies are sweet, they’re soft, vibrant and taste all the more brilliant, a bit like Yoongi, of course, he treated you like you were a bitch on heat, left you without a single word for a week after stealing your virginity, something so precious that you decided to give away in your intoxicated state, but now that you’ve had a taste of him you want him all the more.

You’ve come to realise that loving Min Yoongi is like eating red velvet cookies, you have them all the time; you love them yet you’re not sick of them, you just want more and more and more because you’re greedy like that, because you’re selfish and you know that, but it’s also his favourite as well as yours, maybe that’s why you’re still fucking stuck on it, but it’s the only part of him you know, so how could you? How could you just stop, it’s important for you and Min Yoongi whether you realise it or not you’re both connected by some stupid cookies that you both love, it sounds so stupid but you know it’s the only chance you have because you’ll only ever be his roommate, that’s all you are to him, all you are to the girls he brings around.

Weeks pass and you watch him bring around more and more girls every day, you don’t know what he hopes to achieve by it, maybe he just wants companionship, but you feel like you’re missing something, something you should know but you can’t quite grasp it, but as the days go on and on you realise he’s stopped his fuckboy routine and now there’s just one girl coming around every single day, and boy, if you thought he broke you before? Well, then, you’re absolutely shattered to pieces now, he seems to be serious about her, I mean, if he wasn’t she wouldn’t be coming around every single day would she? You wouldn’t be hearing her annoying, high-pitched voice, would you? You were so stupid to think that maybe he would stop his maniacal antic and actually talk to you, no, you were more than stupid. That’s what triggered the countless nights of crying and mental breakdowns, because you were so done with him, except you weren’t, you were a broken record, stuck on the same thing, the same man, over and over again because you couldn’t understand the fact that this was it, this was his way of telling you to fuck off, to stop trying, almost as if he was holding up two long middle fingers up at you every time you would hear him and her at night.

☆

00:53 a.m.

Here you are sitting on your bedroom floor and crying about your life, well to be exact Min Yoongi the man who had claimed your life, you’ve heard the door to your bedroom open but you don’t care at this point, you’re an absolute mess because you’ve really fucked yourself up, and how are you now going to fix it? Warmth spreads through your body at a simple touch on the small of your back, you know it’s him, you felt it before throughout the night you slept with him; you wanted to memorise every single print of him because it felt like you were living on borrowed time in that moment.

“___,” You hear him whisper.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, am I being too loud, I can go cry somewhere else if you need me to,” You cry out, sobs wracking your body, squirming and scrambling on the ground, rising to see an absolutely exhausted Min Yoongi behind you, holding a crumpled up piece of paper in his hand that he’d obviously tried to flatten, and you realise this is the most emotion he’s ever shown you directly whilst he’s sober and you feel like you’ve just earned the world, because to you that’s what he is, he’s your world.

“No, no, no, please don’t, I just, I heard you crying and I wanted to give you this, I thought you deserved to know, I thought maybe you could figure it out,” he passes you the crumpled up piece of paper, Red Velvet Cookies scrawled on the top in rushed handwriting. Looking down at the writing you realise they’re lyrics, lyrics about a girl who loves red velvet cookies, lyrics about a girl who he can’t stand the thought of living without, it confuses you, it truly does, because Min Yoongi doesn’t like you, as in you specifically remember?

“I know, I treated you like shit after we…you know, but I just wanted to let you know you’re always on my mind, though I told you that night and I’m not sure you even remember, it’s just I-” and then he’s kissing you, that same feeling of fiery passion burning in you, you can taste those stupid red velvet cookies on him, there’s no taste of alcohol this time much to your admiration, this is all him, and you can’t get enough of it, so you deepen the kiss, testing the surface waters, tasting the sweetness of him, the cinnamon and the sugar you remember tasting on him that night, and all of a sudden it’s all coming back to you, all of it, everything, the confession, the way he told you he loved you whilst saw the most intimate parts of you, everything and when you pull away, it’s like the most calming, satisfying aura of bliss settles over you both, leaning your forehead against his.

“I left you because I was scared, I thought you told me you loved me because you were drunk as well, and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have slept with you whilst we were drunk, especially not when you were still a virgin-”

“Yoongi, I don’t regret it, I wanted it, even now, I don’t regret it, though I did regret when I thought you left me and you started bringing those girls around,” You told him.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to prove-” you can see the tears building up in his eyes, pain covering his face.

“I love you,” you admit.

“Even after the way I treated you?” He asks

“Always,”

“I love you more than that,” His adorable gummy smile appearing.

“Not possible,” a small smile starts growing on your face.

“Very much so possible,” He pauses, a small giggle leaving his mouth, “Hey, ___, wanna eat some red velvet cookies?” ah, of course, the God darn cookies that now meant more to both of you.

“Of course,” You say.

#bts kpop jungkook jimin army blackpink suga jin jhope taehyung btsarmy exo twice v rm bangtanboys bangtansonyeondan kimtaehyung parkjimin je

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boltjacksonstories · 4 years

Text

The Potluck

Back when times were better than they are now, Andy was invited to a Friendsgiving potluck dinner. Unable to turn down an invitation from his co-worker Clarissa, Andy prepared the same broccoli casserole he always prepared for holiday get togethers. The old family recipe was cheesy, spicy, and rich with bacon. It was always a hit.

On the night of the potluck, Andy waited on a busy street corner to hail down a cab. He had been there for nearly twelve minutes, and his casserole was beginning to lose heat. With a glass lid steaming under his right arm in the winter rain, it was everything Andy could do to try and hail down a cabbie. Finally, after nearly a quarter hour of flailing, a gracious taxi driver pulled over.

But before Andy could get in, a much more confident man stepped in front of him. Andy never learned his name because Andy never said a word to him. The man, with his chest out, stepped in front of Andy and simply took the cab, no questions asked. All Andy could do was stare.

It was ten more minutes before Andy could wave down another taxi. This time, luckily for Andy, nobody was around to steal it. These were the circumstances that led to Andy being late to the Friendsgiving potluck. By the time he arrived, the festivities were in full swing. Andy knocked on the door and Clarissa quickly answered.

“Andy!” she screamed, “It’s so great to see you!” Clarissa was a practiced host and adept at making her guests feel welcome. Before Andy could react, she gave him a hug and pulled him in, lukewarm casserole and all.

“Welcome, welcome, please,” she went on, “make yourself comfortable. You’re too wet, darling, you’re too wet! How long have you been in the rain?!”

“Too long,” said Andy, “I’m really sorry for the delay. I hope my casserole isn’t too cold.”

“Nonsense,” she said, “Phooey! I’m sure what you made is perfect! Now, come along. It’s time to meet the others.”

Clarissa led Andy into a large and well-lit kitchen where two guests mingled. Clarissa was to introduce Andy, a stranger to this pair, to the conversation.

“Everyone, everyone, please,” she said, “I want you all to meet Andy. Andy, say hello.”

“Hello,” said Andy.

Clarissa introduced Joshua and Emma, both bearing friendly smiles.

“Pleased to meet ya,” said Josh.

“We’ve heard so much about you,” said Emma.

“Are you telling stories about me, Clarissa?” asked Andy.

“Just about how good your casserole is!” said Clarissa, “I had it last year at the company potluck, and it changed my life.”

Andy didn’t know how to react. He defaulted to nervous laughter.

“Oh, Clarissa…” his voice trailed off, but Clarissa would not allow for a lull in the conversation.

“We shall see if it’s as good as last year, won’t we?” she said, “Can I take it for you?”

“Please,” said Andy, and he gladly handed over his burden. Clarissa placed it on a long table in the center of the kitchen. All the other dishes were lined up along the table as well, buffet style. Andy allowed himself to take it all in.

“Our final guest should be here any moment now,” said Clarissa. Almost on cue, the kitchen doors swung open and in walked the final guest, international celebrity chef Tim Pora.

“Holy cow,” whispered Andy, “What’s he doing here?”

“Alright, chefs!” yelled Tim, “Time’s up, hands up! Cut the chop!”

Andy always made a point to do what he was told. Much to his surprise, the other guests jumped and threw their hands up as well. Even Clarissa suddenly seemed nervous. Then, accompanied by inexplicable music, a spotlight illuminated the buffet.

“Four of you stepped into this kitchen,” said Tim, not even speaking to the group, “but only one of you will chopping survive. Tonight, on: ‘You’re Going to Get Chopped Kitchen: Friendsgiving Potluck Edition!’”

Joshua, Clarissa, and Emma clapped like their lives depended on it. Andy wasn’t sure what to do, but under the pressure of Tim’s machismo, he feared he could not speak.

“First up, we have Clarissa. Chef Clarissa, tell us what the chop you’ve prepared.”

Clarissa presented her dish magnificently. It was poached veal with a cranberry compote gravy. Andy had never seen such craftsmanship before. Tim sank his teeth in to confirm the veal’s deliciousness.

“Incredible! Thank you, Chef Clarissa. Next chop, Chef Andy!” Tim continued.

Andy didn’t move. The spotlight lit a circle in front of him, but he did not step into it. Tim cleared his throat and tried again.

“Chef Andy!” he queried. Crickets. Finally, Clarissa nudged Andy forward. He cowered into the light.

“What… what’s going on?” Andy asked.

“Chef Andy!” Tim repeated, “What the chop is this?”

“Um… broccoli casserole? With bacon?”

“Are you telling me, Chef Andy, or are you asking me?”

“I don’t know?”

“Fair enough. If you can’t tell me what the chop is, I will!”

Tim took a heaping, selfish bite of the casserole. He nearly fell over.

“Magnificent,” he said, legs weakened, “The best casserole I’ve ever had. In my chopping life. Thank you, Chef Andy. We’ll see you in the next round.”

“Next round?”

Since his turn was over, Clarissa pulled Andy out of the spotlight.

“What is going on here?” he asked.

“Shh-!” cried Clarissa, “Let him get through the judgement!”

Andy, embarrassed to disrupt, hid his chin from his nose. Chef Emma and Chef Joshua did not fare well under Tim’s judgement.

“This stuffing is too chopping stuffy,” he complained to Joshua.

“This ham is absolute chop, too salty,” he whined of Emma’s pig.

Without much deliberation at all, Chef Tim was able to give his verdict on the round.

“Thank you all for your chops!” Tim said, “I have tried four dishes and two have chopped me away! Chef Andy and Chef Clarissa, please step forward.”

Clarissa stepped forward. Andy felt inclined to follow.

“Chef Clarissa, your cranberry compote gravy made me want to chop my grandmother. Chef Andy, your take on a classic made me actually do it. Please take a seat, you are both safe from ‘The Chopping Block’.”

Clarissa was as relieved as Andy was confused. She pulled him aside for a seat and the spotlight moved to Joshua and Emma.

“Chef Joshua, Chef Emma,” said Tim, “Tonight, in a ‘You’re Going to Get Chopped Kitchen’ first, I am putting you both in ‘The Chopping Block’. Chefs, you are both chopped. Take your chopping seat in ‘The Chopping Block’.”

Joshua’s eyes fell hollow and reticent. Emma was much more animated and began to wail immediately. Joshua tried his best to console her as he led them aside. They took their seat in a fenced-off area of the kitchen with signs that read “The Chopping Block”. Andy had not noticed this area before.

“Hate to see it happen,” whispered Clarissa, “They were such good friends of mine, too.”

“What’s going on?” asked Andy, “Why are we doing this? I thought this was just a potluck.”

“Yeah, I invited you over for potluck. I invited you over for ‘You’re Going to Get Chopped Kitchen: Friendsgiving Potluck Edition’. I told you that.”

“I thought you were just saying that as a joke or something,” said Andy.

“What kind of stupidly specific joke would that be?” said Clarissa, “You know what, Andy: that’s your problem. You don’t speak up enough. If you think something, you should say something. Don’t be so spineless.”

“Silence in my chopping kitchen!” Tim boomed. Andy and Clarissa snapped to attention. Tim continued.

“Chefs, for tonight’s final round, your challenge will be a simple one: you will prepare one another’s chops BUT you have to use the same chops that you used in your original chops and NONE of the chops from your challenger’s chops, got it?!”

“Yes, chef!” cried Clarissa, a little too eagerly.

There was silence in chef’s kitchen. Andy stepped forward.

“No, chef.” Said Andy.

“What?” asked Tim.

“I said no, chef,” repeated Andy, “I do not ‘got it’. I don’t ‘got’ any of the ‘chop’ that’s going on here. I don’t know why I’m here, I don’t know why you’re here, I don’t know what you expect me to cook, I don’t know why Josh and Emma are sitting down over there. I have no fucking clue what is going on and I am so fucking tired of feeling like I can’t say it. There: I’m saying it! I have no fucking clue, Tim! I have no fucking clue why anything is happening and therefore I quit! I don’t even know what you expect me to do but I quit!”

Andy, like a long-shaken cola, had finally exploded. Tim allowed him to catch his breath before offering his rebuttal.

“So, you refuse to participate in the final round then, Chef Andy?”

“Yes, Chef Tim,” said Andy, “I’m standing up for myself, and I refuse.”

“Fair enough,” said Tim, “Then I have no choice but to send you to ‘The Chopping Block’ and to declare Chef Clarissa the Top Chop!”

“Whatever,” said Andy. Clarissa, thrilled by her victory, celebrated alone. Andy made his way to “The Chopping Block”.

“This is so stupid,” he said as he took his seat next to Joshua and Emma, who had not stopped crying. “When is this thing over?”

“Soon,” said Joshua, staring into the distance. He repeated the word, this time in a whisper, “Soon.”

Tim approached “The Chopping Block” with a sinister look in his eyes.

“I suppose you know, chops, what happens next?”

Emma began to sob even louder, and a tear fell from Joshua’s eye.

“We get to go home?” asked Andy. Tim cackled in response.

“Home? You think you get to go home?!” Tim was turning maniacal, “You don’t chopping get to go home!”

The kitchen doors flung open once again and a masked man rolled a large and wooden object out on wheels. The tall contraption had some sort of shining surface near its head and solid wood block base.

“Who’s that? What’s that?” asked Andy. By now, Emma was wailing. The pain in her voice nearly made Andy’s heart stop. Joshua was on his knees apparently in prayer.

“That, my dear chop,” cried Tim, “Is your executioner!”

“What?!”

The masked man settled his guillotine in the center of the kitchen, exactly where Andy’s casserole used to sit.

“You can’t be serious!” begged Andy.

“Take the mouthy one first!” demanded Tim, “He chops too much!” The executioner lumbered toward Andy. By now, everyone was crying.

“Please, no!”

“Why do you think it’s called ‘You’re Going to Get Chopped Kitchen: Friendsgiving Potluck Edition’, Chef Andy, if there aren’t any chopping consequences?!”

Kicking and screaming, Andy was dragged to his death. The executioner’s swift chop both ended Andy’s suffering and proved Clarissa to be wrong: there had been a spine in Andy all along.

#chopped #potluck #friendsgiving

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classlesstulip · 4 years

Text

So, You Called for a Handyman?

(A little medly of a day in the life of a ‘handyman’ in the mob. One who doesn’t really take his job too seriously.)

“*che,* a tall and shadowed figure snorted as he flicked the long blade he held. The wet, viscous sound of blood flying through the air and splattering onto concrete was heard, the whistle of metal short but sharp.

Tiberius looked around the room he was in, sharp ears pricked, listening for any of the tell-tale sounds of life: breathing, twitches, the shuddering gasps one gives when in great pain. He was only satisfied when he heard nothing from the collection of bodies spilled around him.

'There’s a group of Mick’s boys over on 8th and North. Go and fix them.’

Heh, they’re fixed now, alright, Ty thought. Now he just needs to call in Lenore for disposal; he needs to pass over that new fertilizer recipe he’s got, using these mooks may be just what her flowers need.

*****

Storing his machete in one of the many caches secreted in Sepulveda territory, Ty swapped out his fingerless leather gloves for a new set. A quick check showed that even after all these years he’s still got it; not even one drop of blood on his 3-piece.

If even ONE of those mooks had spilled on his Armani, he would have rioted. This suite was a gift!

His internal rant was cut off when his phone chirped. Pulling it out of an inner pocket, he saw a new text from Little Cruzi: seem’s their Apa is done putting up with Jericho. Needs to have the jackass fixed. And-, oh!

'Apa says make it messy. The wetter the better.’

Ty can do that. He’s pretty good at getting things wet.

Oh, that was a good one! He’ll have to try that one on Val; the poor dear’s been wound up tighter than a spring the last few weeks. A good laugh followed by a good fuck should fix that.

*****

"Hey, Ty? Boss has a new stop for ya!”

What the fuck? Seriously!? "Uh, Amber? Ya can see I’m currently up to my elbows right now, yeah!?“ The wet squelch and Ty’s grunt as he pulled on Jericho’s lungs rung through the warehouse. It was dark and dusty; the perfect backdrop for a Splash-n-Dash.

Currently, Ty was bent over a stack of pallets, the beaten corpse of Jericho splayed across them. Scattered on the walls and floors around them were gouges and bullet marks, with streaks of blood interspersed, belying that a scuffle had taken place, the loser of which had his chest cracked open and Ty cleaning the innards like he was preparing a chicken to get roasted over open coals.

The driver held up their arms, shrugging. "Hey man, I’m just the messenger. Turns out, Jericho was fucking with not just the Sepulveda’s, but the Alnazar’s AND Satrinava’s.” Amber looked a little green at the sound of flesh and ligaments ripping as Ty finished his impromptu vivisection. He went even more green when Ty overhand-hurled his double-handful of offal at one of the far walls with a loud 'YEET!’, the wet splat and fanning of blood from the impact causing Amber to jump back with a heave. “Dude, what the fuck!?” The thick gurgle he swallowed back after his outburst showed just how DONE he was with Ty’s nastiness.

“Hey, Val says wet and messy, I deliver wet an’ messy! Now keep your pants on and drag over my duffle. My shirt is ruined.”

Keeping an eye on a blood-soaked Tiberius, Amber did as bid. It took him a few minutes to locate said bag, during which Ty lit-up a cig.

“Move it, cupcake.”

“Alright, alright, jeez. Go fuck yourself, asshole.”

“I HEARD THAT!”

*****

“Alrighty then,” Ty propped his feet up on the desk in front of him, ignoring the glare Asra shot him. “So, we gots a case of ol’ Jerry boy putting his fingers into too many pies, both literal, figurative, and colloquially. Drugs, rent girls, and laundering, right?” He pulled in a big drag from his cigar, having lighted up the moment he entered Fluff'n'Stuff’s digs.

With a grunt, Asra pushed the big booted feet off of his NICE mahogany desk. Getting a few smoke-rings blown at him in retribution, he glared at the 'handyman’ sitting across from him, but knew any more fussing on his end would be futile; the only reason Asra isn’t currently a smear on the wall is that Ty thinks he’s adorable AND they go way back.

That and Val and Asra once had a Thing, but that’s none of his business.

“Yes,” leaning back, Asra pulled out a thick manila file folder and dropped it onto his desk. The poor thing was only kept together by a single rubber band, and Ty’s surprised it hasn’t snapped already. “These are the places that Jericho’s Number Two and Three have holed up. Taking these two out will cause the whole operation to fall apart.”

As Asra was speaking, Ty secured his cigar between his molars, propping his jaw open as his fingers started pulling apart the file. Flipping through the first few cover papers, he soon got to the meat and potatoes of the lot. “As you can see, Vinny is in the heart of the Garment District…” Ty stopped paying attention as he looked through everything, Asra’s voice becoming a low, soothing drone. He leaned back in his chair, holding up a few A4-sized photos.

“Now, Illian was able to-” Asra was cut off at a loud, 'interested’ hum from Tiberius. Seconds later, the handyman turned the papers in his hand’s landscape, and a few sheets accordioned down. A slightly lewd chuckle floated up from behind the papers before Asra snatched at them, Ty letting out a disappointed 'awww’ at the loss of his smut.

“A-HEM!” Crinkling the purloined pornography in his fist, Asra pinned Ty with A Look. “This is no time to be looking at, at, uh,” he peeped at the rag, “PLAYBOY!”

“Azzy? That was IN the file. I had nothing to do wi-”

“REGARDLESS,” tossing the magazine at his wastebin (and making a mental note to speak to his son about leaving his 'reading material’ out and about), Asra huffed. “Just, get out of here and fix 'em. Oh, and…”, rifling through his desk, he pulled out a box. He pushed it across his table, a curious Ty picking it up gingerly, “wear this. We need proof of the job, to be a warning.”

“A body cam? Shit son, y'all mean business.” Snorting, Ty threw himself out of his chair, tossing the little box in the air before catching it and slipping it into his suitcoat pocket. “Got it. The usual fee to the usual account. Give hugs and kisses to yer fam for me, yeah?”

*****

Walking down a softly carpeted hall, a slight shadow was seen. Soft curls were piled atop their head, and one hand held a glass of wine while the other pulled their robe tighter. Light filtered through shuttered blinds, car head beams and static lamps fighting the darkness of night. Occasionally, the honk of a horn or the revving of an engine sounded out, despite being muffled by layers of brick and insulation.

Sipping their wine, they stopped just outside a cracked door. Peeping in, a soft smile curled their lips as they spied one of their little ones (though, being nearly twenty, they are fairly certain that Sol would object to such an endearment). Seeing them softly snoring away, the door was pulled shut. Checking on their other child, Cruz, showed the same result.

Once satisfied that their children (grown though they may be) were tucked away safely snoozing, Val continued down the hall. A few twists and turns later and they were in their office. Opulently decorated with heavy dark wood pieces and bold colors, it was quite a large and stately room. Near the far wall was their desk, and on the blotter was a thumb drive.

Knowing that it must have been left by Tiberius, Val plucked it up. Wandering towards the entertainment center, they plugged in the drive, turned on the screen, and got comfortable on the couch, sipping more wine as they navigated menus with the remote.

“Hey, is this thing on?” The sound of someone tapping a mic was heard before the picture abruptly turned on. A large brown eye was center stage, the corners crinkling briefly before the cam was pulled back, revealing the familiar face of Tiberius. “Alrighty, then! So, the usual drivel: Tiberius working on behalf of Don Valentino of the Sepulveda Family, yadda yadda yadda,” Ty’s eyes rolled, and his body moved like he was waving his hand. “Here to fuck some shit up and make a statement. So here’s,” he tapped the screen, “the mutherfuckin’,” more taps, “TEA,” a final tap. “Vinny’s been baaaaaaaad. Not only,” Ty brandished a finger, waving it around his head like a conductor, “has this bonafide dickfuck fuckface been doin’ Jerry’s dirty work, but this FUCKER has also been bringing in kids. KIDS I TELL YA! Now c'mon, Vinny, baby, ya don’t bring kids into your prostitution ring! Fucker! So, time to clean house! And Val?” Ty winked at the camera, “I’ll have a nice little pressie for ya when you finish this!”

Some fumbling and cursing later, and Val had a chest-high view of whatever was in front of Ty. Currently, it was the door to what may be a warehouse. The video jumped up and down a few times, and the cocking of a gun was heard. Something very familiar was playing in the background, and it came to a hard beat as Ty kicked in the door-

“Some-BODY ONCE TOLD ME,” duel-wielding, Ty buried a bullet into the head and gut of the bouncer standing guard as the kicked-in door bounced off of the wall. “THE WORLD WAS GONNA ROLL ME,” two steps down the hallway. “I AIN’T THE SMARTEST TOOL IN THE SHED,” one guy burst out of a room and got pistol-whipped for his stupidity, getting a few slugs to the back as he fell.

Hopping over the new body, Ty continued his song. “SHE WAS LOOKIN’ KINDA DUMB WITH HER FINGER AND HER THUMB,” this time, he peeped around a doorway into a room, squeaking out a startled 'Errol!?’ as a knife buried itself into the wall behind him. A feminine voice started spewing curses as he backpedaled, hands still clutching Glocks up in the air. “Aight, aight, I got it! Sheesh!” Huffing, he continued his journey down the hall, bellowing an 'IN THE SHAPE OF AN L ON 'ER FOREHEAD!’ behind him as he went.

Now Val wants to know what she was doing there. Did Jericho piss off Lucio, as well? They jumped as Ty continued his bit of Musical Mayhem.

“WELLLLLLLLL THE YEARS START COMIN’ AND THEY DON’T STOP COMING!” At some point, the handyman had swapped out his handguns for a combat shotgun, opening up rounds into the chests of three forgettable thugs in beat to the last three words of his stanza. “FED TO THE RULES AND I HIT THE GROUND RUNNIN’!” Coming to the end of the hall, Ty blasted through the door, revealing the large, empty space typical to warehouses was replaced with a sort of hotel-like setup. An open-air lobby, with staircases spiraling up, leading to floors with open walkways. It looked like someone tried to recreate the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria, but it just went up and up, with each floor being closer to a balcony than a full floor. All of the open space allowed for the panicked cries and screams of the brothel inhabitants to echo in upon themselves.

There were also a LOT of fine rugs, marble, and gilt furniture. How long has this operation been going on, and how did fucking JERICHO of all people get this set-up on the DL?

“DIDN’T MAKE SENSE NOT TO LIVE FOR FUN,” *boom!**boom!**boom!*; a rapid release of shots into a group of mobsters as they tried to rush Tiberius, giving Val a front-row seat to the amount of kick a combat-class shotgun has as one man went flying, streamers of blood shooting from the stump that used to hold his head. “YOUR BRAIN GETS SMART BUT YER HEAD GETS DUMB! HAHA, FUCKER!” Ty’s voice was starting to get difficult to hear over the amount of sheer NOISE in the background.

“SO MUCH TO DO!” *blam!* “SO MUCH TO SEE!” *blamblam!* “SO WHAT’S WRONG WITH TAKIN’ THE BACKSTREETS!?” The bodycam started shaking at Ty charged over to a staircase, plowing shoulder-first into a group of people storming down it while waving their guns. The picture blacked out and the muffled scratch of fabric rubbing over the built-in mic took up a few seconds of footage before a bright light cut through. Val had to squint their own eyes, and everything came back into focus just in time to see Ty hurl a middle-aged, half-dressed wanna-be mafioso over one of the balcony floors, singing out 'YOU’LL NEVER KNOW! IF YOU DON’T GO!’ as the man plummeted. He landed with a rubbery thump.

“YOU’LL NEVER SHINE IF YOU DON’T GLOW,” more singing/screeching from Ty as he tossed a grenade down another balcony/hall. As it erupted, it covered the huddled gangsters in liquid fire. “HEY NOW! YOU’RE AN ALL-STAR! GET YOUR GAME ON! GO PLAYEEEEE! C'MON ASSHOLES! YOU WANTED TO BE A ROCKSTAR! HOW NOW! YOU’RE A ROCK STAR! GET THE SHOW ON! GET PAIIIIIIIIIIID! HA HAHAHAAA!”

Val made a quiet note to themselves that Ty, while very funny, can also be downright sinister.

“AND ALL THAT GLITTERS IS GO~OOOLLLLLLD!” And that Ty should also never attempt a falsetto that high ever. AGAIN.

“ONLY SHOOTING STAAAAAAAAAARS BREAK THE MO-OLLLLLLD!” Another flame-spewing grenade was thrown, this time hitting what looked to be a fire extinguisher. Seconds later, foam started jetting out of the damaged, high-pressure steel canister, turning what was once a life-saving device into a literal missile, which shot off and plowed into the chest of a woman in Jericho’s colors, launching her airborne before the canister exploded, spreading shrapnel and viscera into a mist.

Smothering their face with their hand, Val let out a disbelieving laugh as Ty continued to wreak unholy havoc on the hideout to the tune of an upbeat, mid-aughties pop-rock song. Knives were thrown, bullets buried in brains, and it all came to a crescendo as Ty unloaded a stereotypical tommy-gun down into a group of wannabe gangsters that had jimmied themselves into the lobby. The last note to the song was capped off with a tossed Molotov, the ring of shattering glass pairing well to the last guitar chord.

Chuckling in satisfaction, Val finished their wine before shutting off the television. Wandering out of their office, they refilled their wineglass before heading toward their bedroom. Humming in pleasure after taking a fresh sip of chilled wine, they gently opened their door, stopping in the doorway before raising a sculpted brow. “So,” they queried. “Is this my 'pressie’?”

It’s quite a nice present, Val thought. Tiberius was lounging on Val’s obscenely large bed, on his side and completely nude. If not for a strategically-placed pile of rose petals, the fit man would be putting on quite the show. As it was, Tiberius decided to take a page out of every cheesy romance novel/movie and had bedecked the bedroom in dozens of low-burning candles and scattered roses, capping-off the trope with a single rose clenched between pearly whites. It’s something the Valentino of twenty-some years ago would have swooned over.

Although, the Valentino of now is feeling quite swoon-y, now. "Heh,“ they chuckled as Ty wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I’ve got to say, this is a nice surprise, viejo amigo.” Quietly shutting the door behind them, they leaned against the slab of wood-encased steel and gave their 'present’ a heated stare. “What gives?”

“Eh, nothing much.” Pulling the rose out of his mouth, Ty tossed it aside with a flick of the wrist. “Just, ah, you wanted a job wet and messy, and I decided that you could use a little 'wet 'n messy’ yourself.”

Val barked out a laugh. “Oh, but that was horrible!” Wandering closer to the bed, they held out a hand, gently cupping a warm cheek. “What am I going to do with you- MERDA!”

Yanking Val towards him, Ty rolled them, stopping on his back with Val perched on top. “Well, first things first! Let’s fuck!”

*****

The room stunk of sex, and all of the candles had burned themselves out. Entwined under a thin sheet, a sticky but satiated couple cuddled. Bite marks and hickeys decorated soft skin, and Val laid with their head tucked under Ty’s chin, one set of fingers lazily tracing circles over the larger man’s lower back.

“So,” Val lazily purred. “Aside from the cam footage, did you learn anything else?”

Ty hummed. “You may want to speak to Head in the Clouds.”

“…about?”

A hoarse chuckle. “Seem’s someone’s son has a little crush on our Cruzi. A Playboy got mixed into my briefing file, and a VERY well-worn page had a model that looked startlingly like our bambino was on it.”

“…really?” Ty hissed as sharp nails dug into his back, relaxing when Val apologetically rubbed them. “I’ll need to set-up a meeting. But, that can wait until tomorrow.”

The last thing Ty thought as they both dropped off to sleep was that he was glad he didn’t let on that he’s pretty sure Lucky and Cruz have a thing.

But he’s not sorry for telling Cruz’s Apa. Serves the little brat right for shitting all over him as a baby and giving him heart attacks every week since they learned how to walk.

HA!

@agent-darkbootie @thraxbaby @lazyvoyager @magicianapprenticelyra @plaguedcount

#@agent-darkbootie #Mob!AU #valentino sepulveda #sol y cruz #tiberius principia #lenore #asra #illian #lucky #amber #the arcan AU #errol pyralis #short story #short ficlet

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liloelsagranger · 5 years

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Viridian Love Story - Chapter 4: You’re my only fear, my only desire (Rocketshipping)

My dear friends, chapter four is online! Enjoy! Rocketshipping ahead.

@ndbern-rocketmonsters @ndbernarts @jessicarocket @estrelarabyss @prepareforetrouble @masterstarpikachu @tothestarsabove @teamrocketfanart @thelovelyjessie @webelieveinlovepower @chaosandhope @james-team-rocket @danadiversity @krazy-holly @keksrocket @harmonyrocketeeveon @pok3ship @yesjanii @thecomputergirl @elysiiandream @fugly-chan @batfamfan1 @ghostkitty @pikamofo @eclipsing-dreams @abatwc @emily1037 @texansman20 @inuyashaeienni @zayphantomslayer Chapter 4: You’re my only fear, my only desire

Jessie decided to condone their small contretemps and recharge her batteries. Fully loaded with boxes, she balanced the crates into the big hall where James and Meowth were already waiting for her. James hastened to her aid, placing the boxes on the floor. “What a color explosion! Nothing fits! Gold, turquoise, rosé…are you planning on a complete disaster?!” the Pokémon-cat wrinkled his nose. Jessie shooed him away with a wave of her hand. “Amateurs! These colors are perfectly coordinated with each other!” She reached for a cheesy garland with glittering pom-poms. “Are you just gonna watch me do this or what?” Jessie flashed her eyes at James, challenging him. He swallowed hard and set to work. Their teammate had already worked out a perfect decoration plan. Like a general, she rushed James and Meowth back and forth, gave them instructions and rebuked their mishaps. She was completely in her element and revenge is generally known to be sweet.

Together they decorated the whole hall with tinsel and balloons and set up the photo booth to provide a lot of fun and distraction. Now and then, Jessie and James would unintentionally come closer. He secured the ladder while Jessie hung streamers on the chandeliers; they reorganized the seating areas, her hand almost imperceptibly grazing his arm, and they checked the loudspeakers to offer an unforgettable musical treat for the ears. “Does it work?” Jessie stood next to her friend, monitoring his technical skills closely. He smiled at her, pressing the play-button. Soft tones of a long forgotten melody reached her ears. Jessie bobbed to the music, secretly shedding a tear of longing. It was their song, vivid and brimming with energy. A mixture of foxtrot and sad blues notes. “Would you like to dance, Jess?” James took her hand, leading her to the middle of the hall. ‘It means nothing. He’s just polite and wants to swing his dancing leg. Don’t flatter yourself, girl!’ Nonetheless, she followed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. After so many years, they were still a well-rehearsed dancing couple. One moment, James would whirl her around, the next he would pull her very close. She snuggled up to his chest, inhaling the herbal scent of his perfume. Secret fantasies ventured back to the surface, but Jessie had to get those thoughts off her mind. She swallowed the bitter disappointment like a pro. “I think we should prepare the punch,” Jessie broke away from his embrace, disappearing into the school canteen to fetch fruits and juice. “Nice try,” Meowth jumped onto the table, placing a paw on James’ shoulder. “You’ll never get her that way! Let’s be honest, it takes more than a little dance to confess your secret feelings,” he said, clearly noticing the chagrin in James’ eyes. ‘Softy!’ the Team Rocket member rebuked himself, ‘you’ll never win her heart back!’, but he had to keep trying, tiny steps by tiniest steps, to show her how much she meant to him. Jessie turned back with boxes full of exotic fruits like pineapples, mangos, dragonfruits, kiwis and papayas. The trio sliced the fruits into small bites, carefully mixing the ingredients by adding juice, cane sugar and a dash of honey. James poured a sip into their shot glass, tasting the sweet drink Jessie had created. “Delicious, Jess! You outdid yourself with that recipe!” he winked at his best friend, causing her to blush. To underline his esteem, he licked his lips and gave himself another glass. After mopping the floor and cleaning up the rest of the decoration, the trio decided it was time for a reward. From Team Rocket they had received the necessary small change for a hilarious evening among friends. “I need a few minutes to change. How about a visit to the all you can eat buffet in the city centre? I’m starving,” Jessie scurried off, leaving Meowth and a lovelorn James back in the hall. James rebuked himself once more for his cautious and reserved behavior, but his scars were still burning underneath his uniform and the fear of loss of control and subservience seethed like fire in his body. Could he get involved in a romance? Could a leopard change his spots? He wanted her so much, he longed for her nearness, but the horror was deep and with it the fear of another firm relationship and true feelings.

Half an hour later, James and Meowth were waiting for Jessie to leave her dorm. She was dressed in a light blue shirt with matching shorts. “Let’s go,” she and James linked arms and the trio set off to fill their bellies.

The restaurant was crowded and booked up to the last seat, but the waitress put Jessie, James and Meowth at a tiny free table. They squeezed themselves onto the chairs and took a look at the menu. “35 Poké-Dollars per person! Ridiculous! I hope their food is good, let’s dig in”, Jessie jumped up, almost wiping their sodas off the table and lined up at the buffet. As always, Team Rocket exaggerated. They piled up chicken wings and saithe on their plates, indulged in juicy roasts and a lavish selection of delicious cakes. One bottle of wine after another was uncorked, until they showed first signs of light drunkenness. All night, James couldn’t take his eyes off Jessie. Her laughter excited him. He would have preferred to bend over the table, cup her face and kiss her fervently, but instead he squatted there like a coward, smiling at her like an idiot.

“Watch out, Jess”, it was late at night, when the duo made their way back to the campus. Jessie kept stumbling over the paving stones, James, himself extremely drunk, had trouble supporting her. They laughed and bawled lightheartedly. Meowth had already said goodbye, only Jessie and James were left. “I hope our plan doesn’t go down the drain. This is our last chance to prove Giovanni our criminal talent,” Jessie voiced concerns. “Why does such a beautiful young lady think such gloomy thoughts?” James turned to her, stroking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Stop it, James. We both know you’re not being serious. You drank way too much,” Jessie broke away from his firm grip. “You’re right, I did. Let me accompany you to your room, okay?” she nodded her head, lacing her fingers with his. A tiredness overpowered her, but there was another feeling she could not classify. “Good night, Jessie. Take care,” James held her door open. “If you need anything, you know where to find me. Tomorrow will be an exhausting day. We still need to instruct the grunts,” he stopped in the door for a moment. He could gather up the courage to walk up to her and kiss her tenderly, but it was impossible, he was held back by the past. “Good night,” she whispered, closed the door and sighed unmistakably.

James made his way to his own bedroom and regretted any opportunity he hadn’t used for a kiss. He clenched his hands to fists. “That’s enough, you scaredy-cat! Pull yourself together,” he had made a decision.

Determined to put his cards on the table, he ran back to Jessie’s bedroom, wildly pounding at the door. “Jess! Jess!” She opened the door a crack wide. “James, what a…” Jessie didn’t have time to finish her sentence. Before she could withdraw, his arms were around her. Jessie felt helpless and completely taken by surprise at first. James looked at her, his gaze full of longing. His breath went fast, he was aroused and eventually ready to take the next step. Without warning, he pressed his lips on hers. They merged into a tender kiss. She could feel his hands around her waist, the firm grip as he gently pushed her against the door. James was insistent, his hands wandering underneath her shirt. Flimsy touches made her groan with pleasure, evoking from her unknown sensations. She ran her fingers through his hair, cupping his face while putting all her pent-up feelings into the next kiss. They kissed each other with passion, over and over again, as if they had to make up for every missed opportunity in the past. James stopped for a moment, his face was so close to her, she could feel the first happy wave of exhaustion. “What are you doing, James?” Completely out of breath, but still in her senses, she wanted to confront him. It felt too good to be true. Would appearance deceive again? “I think,” he took a deep breath, “I think, I’m falling in love with you, Jess.” “Blame it on the alcohol,” she said, but James shook his head. “No, Jessie, not this time...” that was the decisive sentence. Something she had wanted to hear for so long. James cupped her face, both smiling and unburdened. “Jessie,” he whispered into her ear, “I’m sorry it took me so long. Let me make it up to you, darling,” he carried Jessie to her bed. Slowly and carefully, he dropped her back. Her head lay on the pillows and for the first time in his life, James experienced the desire to love a woman with all his heart. She was so beautiful, her lips red like roses, her eyes of shiny sapphire. How had he overlooked this for years? Her beauty was not of this world. Her skin as bright as porcelain, all his poetic acquirement intertwined in thoughts of his best friend, his muse and faithful companion. Slowly and very gently, he tilted his head, kissed her and thus sealed the silent agreement of tender ties. To be continued...

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hitchell-mope · 4 years

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(Third Film. Jane’s birthday party)

Dizzy: I LOVE THIS FOOD! What is it?

Jane: Mal made them. Ben’s recipe. Uhhhh. Mac’n’Cheese cupcakes.

Dizzy: no matter what happens stop me when I’ve had 50.

Lonnie: and how many have you had already?

Dizzy: 25

Lonnie: ah.

(Dizzy runs off laughing like mad)

Lonnie: so when’s the string quartet coming

Jane: hopefully never

Lonnie: you’re not enjoying yourself are you?

Jane: I am. I am, it’s just. Mother made a schedule. No opening my presents until she gets here and she’s not here. And neither are the rest of our friends and I don’t want another geometry book or a rock polisher. I stopped collecting rocks when I was 10.

Lonnie: hey, hey. It’s alright. Party’ll pick up. Just wait til Mal gets here. We’ll finally see the famous routine

Jane (chuckling): infamous more like with all the cloak and dagger she’s put into it

Lonnie: I’d thought you’d seen it.

Jane: I have. Mal said there’s more to it though. Not for anyone over fifty. And mothers darn near a million

Lonnie: well. 99 thousand eight hundred and 37. And a half

(Both girls burst into a giggle fit. Half way up the embankment Chadeficent is arguing with a chaperone)

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): hey dickbrain. I’m on the list. Chad. Charming. My father pays your salary. So you can take this piece of scrap and shove it up your

Dizzy: what in Grimm’s name are you doing here?

Chadeficent (both voices): silence wretch

Jane: Chad. Are you ok?

Chadeficent (Maleficent’s voice): perfectly well my dear little girl

(Their eyes glow black. Jane gulps and rushes back to the others)

Jane: something’s wrong with chad!

Lonnie and Dizzy: what’s right with him?

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): none of you belong here. Not at court. Not as nobility. Not as anything else but housewives. And you “cousin” shouldn’t have left the poverty line. And I’m gonna make sure you bitches pay with your second class lives.

Lonnie: on with the misogyny full force then eh?

Dizzy and Jane: apparently.

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): it’s your bday isn’t it?

Jane (hesitantly): yes?

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): has mom sent you something?

Jane: a handmade dress.

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): I have something better

(He pulls out the wand. Everyone else takes a step back in shock)

Jane: it was you

Chadeficent (Maleficent’s voice): not just him

(They split apart and Maleficent stands before Jane. She’s grinning like the madwoman she is)

Maleficent: did you really think he had the brains to pull it off

Dizzy: where are my parents

Chad: who gives a flying fuck? Ones a whore and ones a half formed freak. They deserve what they’re gonna get.

Jane: run. EVERYBODY RUN. GET AWAY WHILE YOU CAN

Maleficent: thought you’d say that. Oh. Someone gave you a compact mirror. Lovely.

(She points at the present table and glass shards start shooting out sending everyone into a panic. Lonnie hoists dizzy up and the three girls run to the shore of the lake)

Dizzy: no wait stop. I can’t swim.

Lonnie: you’ve been. Here for a year!

Dizzy: they asked if I wanted lessons I said no.

Jane: that worked out well.

(Lonnie puts Dizzy down and turns to face her)

Lonnie: Dizzy I promise. I won’t let go. But you have got to trust. Do you?

Dizzy: yes

Jane: jump!

(They all dive into the lake, Dizzy clinging on to Lonnie for dear life. Jane’s eyes glow periwinkle blue and suddenly their standing on the lakes floor)

Dizzy: what happened?

Jane: magic. It’s a wonderful thing. In the right hand.

Lonnie: and right now one of the most powerful magical relics is in the hands of chad and Maleficent. We have to warn them. Ben at the very least needs to know.

(Back on the embankment chad hasn’t been paying attention to a single thing the girls have been doing. Instead he’s been scratching his skull with the wand)

Chad: ooh. I know what to do. Happy birthday Janey

(This is when “happy birthday happens. After the song he just stands there dumbly)

Chad: where’d everybody go?

Maleficent: never mind that. We must make haste to the palace. We must find the king if you ever want the throne

Chad: yay! (Maleficent’s takes control of his body) oof must ya do that every goddamn time? (Maleficent’s voice) it’s amusing to me.

(They disappear in a swirl of black smoke. Under the lake Jane’s been listening in on the conversation)

Jane: Ok they’ve gone. Dizzy. Lonnie. Be careful. When we break the surface you might get a head rush. It’ll pass. Fight it.

Lonnie: ok. Sure. Makes sense

Dizzy: can’t you just teleport us to land?

Jane: oh yeah. Didn’t think about it

(With a flash of periwinkle blue smoke the three are back on land. Dizzy immediately runs up to the food table and starts kissing it)

Dizzy: oh land I’ve missed you so

Lonnie: it was barely ten minutes

Dizzy: it was 10 minutes too long! Jane what are you doing

Jane: calling the king. Ben? Hi yes. Chad has the wand. He’s possessed-you know? Does anyone else know? Mal and the others. Ok. We’re in safe hands. Just stay in your office. No. No ones dead. Well. No one else. Well. Not yet. Rendezvous at your office? Perfect. Bye.

(She ends the call and starts going through the present table)

Dizzy: what are you doing?

Jane: looking for something (to herself) come on Abigail. You were my favourite babysitter. Come through for me. Do not leave me high and dry. AHA YES!

Lonnie and Dizzy: what?

Jane (turning around to show them): water bazooka

Dizzy: and what’s that going to do?

Jane (already wading back into the lake): help us. This lake is magic. You come into contact with it and any spell you were put under is removed.

Dizzy: so what? We’re gonna beat chad via a water gun fight?

Jane: bazooka. And sort of. If the others are put under, we shoot em with this and they’ll wake up. In theory.

Lonnie: ok that’s all well and good but it’s your mothers wand. The magic will only last until midnight.

Jane: my mother’s wand is being influenced by the mistress of all evil. Aka the first one to be revived from death 23 years ago

Lonnie (realising): oh crap. So our friends are our best shot basically.

Dizzy: as always.

(In Ben’s office, he’s enacting the protocols when Audrey skips in)

Audrey: it took forever but I finally found something for Jane. Carlos let me use the 3D printer and I made her a wand of her very own. It’s not magic but I think she might like it.

Ben: you need to get back to your room

Audrey: what? No

Ben: the party’s cancelled, go back to your room. I don’t want to use magic on you but I will if I have to. So please go back to your room!

Audrey: Florian you’re not making any sense

Ben (taken aback): you’ve never called me Florian before

Audrey: you’ve never not made any sense before. So what’s. Happening?

Ben: chad has the wand. And he’s possessed by Maleficent. We don’t know what he wants so the entire kingdom is going on lockdown until he’s stopped.

Audrey: oh no. Oh nononononononono. Oh it’s all my fault. I did this. I drove him to it

(She keeps rambling. Ben tries to get through to her but to no avail. Until he slaps her around the face)

Audrey: OW! That really hurt

Ben: I’m sorry you weren’t making any sense and I didn’t know best else to do and Carlos once did that to me and it worked and I’m so sorry

Audrey: s’ok. I probably would’ve done the same thing.

Ben: what do you mean it was your fault

Audrey: I dumped chad last night.

Ben: what?

Audrey: he was being a dick. Said I couldn’t hang out with Mal anymore. He tried to stop me from leaving. So I dumped him. And your eyes are glowing again.

(Ben blinks hard three times and the glowing stops)

Ben: sorry about that. And it’s not your fault. It’s his. Never apologise for knowing your own worth

Audrey: which is what you did when you broke up with

Ben: ah. Did I ever apologise for that?

Audrey: no. And you were right not to. I was a bitch. I still see murder in Evie’s eyes sometimes. And I deserve it. I sicced chad on Carlos. I’m surprised you didn’t have me executed

Ben: well Evie did suggest (laughing) ow

(Audrey just playfully slapped him on the arm)

Audrey: now we’re even

Ben: not yet. Ici tu vas madame

(He hands her a shot glass of wine)

Audrey: Pourquoi merci, gentil monsieur

(They down each glass in one. And promptly cough it back up)

Audrey: aw that’s. That’s bad.

Ben: haha yeah.

Audrey: why do we drink this again?

Ben: cause we’re french?

Audrey: possibly. (She looks at the bottle) and it’s out of date. Where’d you get it.

Ben: mom gave it to me. Said she was keeping it for her fiftieth wedding anniversary. That statement aged well.

Audrey: bin?

Ben: bin.

(He throws the bottle away

Ben: now you should really get back to your room. Activate the protocols Mal made. You should be safe

Audrey: ok.

(She leaves)

Ben: oh and hey. Don’t blame yourself for what Chad’s doung. He’s always been a dick. No one changes anyone. We change ourselves. He’s just done it wrong.

Audrey: sure. (To herself) then why do I feel like I’m still to blame?

(This is when “what if” happens)

(Elsewhere the six vks have just gone through the barrier into the island. And Mal is young again)

Mal: well that was surprisingly easy

Celia: it always is. Then the bullshittery happens.

Evie: explain.

Celia: your majesty. Chancellor. Follow me to your fathers lair.

Evie: this is gonna suck for me personally isn’t it?

Mal and Celia: probably

Carlos: hey mom. What do we do when you’re off on you feel good movie of the year thing?

Celia: my fathers arcade. I thought it’d be obvious

Carlos: yeah. You’d think.

Jay: there is a photobooth there you know?

Carlos: at your lead then

Gil: what about our bikes?

Celia: again. My fathers arcade. Oh so simple Legume

Gil: well not to me! I’m not Cj.

Evie: don’t mention that bitch Gil. Please. It’s like candy man. Say it enough it’ll show up.

Gil: I used to think that too. But brother said it’s an old legend and therefore not true

Mal: let him live, sis.

(Evie snarls)

Celia: c’mon end ladies we are burning daylight

(The wiz split up. The girls going to the lair. The boys going to the arcade. None of them see Harriet in the shadows drinking watching them and knocking back a hip flask. Back in Auradon a black cloud of smoke is descending across the land. And Doug is trying to comfort the twins)

Doug: it’s ok. Just stay here. I’ll get the blanket.

Squeaky: whas happening?

Doug: someone that doesn’t like us is trying to hurt us. But don’t worry. I won’t let them get to you.

The twins: ok.

(Around the the house is covered in blackness. The curse has reached them. The front door is blasted off its hinges)

Doug: I’ll protect you. I swear it. (To himself) ohh this is so “Harry Potterish” it’s disturbing

(He grabs a steak knife from the kitchen, deadbolts the door to the workshop, not noticing the smoke has already made contact with the twins, and runs to the front door. Chadeficent is standing there. He charges at them but they use magic to slam him into a wall and keep him there suspended two feet above the floor)

Doug: I always knew you were a dick! I just didn’t think you were this much of a dick

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): that’s pretty big talk coming from a dude with a ponytail. What should I do with him? Sleep is too good for a half breed (Maleficent’s voice) it is your choice my child. He is your enemy after (Chad’s voice, happy) ooh. You’re right ARGH

(Doug has just kicked them in the crotch. This makes them lose concentration and Doug drops to the ground)

Doug: yeah, not only are you a dick. But you have a dick. So. Byee

(He runs to the kitchen deadbolting the door as he goes. He turns around )

Chadeficent (both voices): boo

(They grab him by the neck and throw him through the wall. He lands on Evie’s worktop, smashing it in two)

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): I think I know what to do now

Doug (chuckling through bloodied teeth): what? What could you possibly do that you haven’t already done to me?

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): I was ya roommate. I’ve read ya journal

Doug (terrified): no. No. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(The smoke knocks him out. And he wakes up in a bathroom at the shool. Chadeficent is staring at him through the full length bathroom mirror. Behind them is Doug’s unconscious body laid out almost peacefully on the floor)

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): see now this what you deserve.

Doug: HELP. HELP. HELP ME. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): oh c’mon dwarf you know that won’t work. They can’t hear you. You’re mute. Like you should be. Just like your idiot father.

(Doug looks like he’s going to throw up)

Doug: why. Why are you doing this

Chadeficent (Chad’s voice): because Ben is wrong. Women and half breeds and and fairies and djins have no place at court. Not in this world. Not in my world. Ooh. Someone’s coming. Best hide. You know what we’re like. How we don’t take well to the different.

(The mirror clouds up and they vanish leaving Doug alone. Chad almost smashes the mirror but he stops)

Chadeficent (Maleficent’s voice): that’s not how we do things. We gloat. And let them suffer. (Chad’s whiny voice) oh but whyuh? (Maleficent’s voice) because. Sooner or later they’ll come back. And he can see her heart break. (Chad’s voice) oooh. I like that. (Maleficent’s voice) come on now dear. Let’s face the king

(Back on the island the girls have just arrived at the lair. And Hadie is making his way to the door)

Hadie (opening the door to the lair): hello boys. Uh ha ha. You’re not Anthony and Grayson.

Mal (smugly): 🎶told ya🎶

Evie (slowly getting more high pitched): I was fourteen I was an idiot and no straight person has a gaydar!

Mal: then why did you say you did?

Evie: BECAUSE I WAS FOURTEEN AND AS I SAID I WAS AN IDIOT

Celia: now we’ve gotten that out of the way. Hadie. Meet your kid sisters. They’re here to see the big man

Hadie: Iris? Hestia?

Mal: I dunno who those people are but I’m Mal. She’s Evie. Where’s our father?

Hadie: dea uh dealing with, stuff. What did Maleficent do this time. I swear if she touched either of you

Mal: vous êtes donc au courant, bien, nous évite d'avoir à expliquer. maintenant, prendre est à notre père afin que nous puissions sauver notre royaume des griffes d'un garçon de salope de base hormonal qui est possédé par la maîtresse de tout mal.

Hadie: je suis à tes ordres, petite soeur

(He lets through the door)

Mal: ooh I like you

Hadie: right back atcha kid

Mal (chuckling sarcastically): ohhhh. I’m eighteen.

Hadie: so you can’t drink

Mal: ah I never said that

Hadie: beer or wine?

Mal: yes please

(They don’t notice that Evie’s sunk down behind a pillar)

Hadie: alrighty then. Dads asleep. Hangover

Mal: of course

Hadie: if you want my help just ask. Loving the highlights by the way.

Mal: I like having a big brother

(Mal goes to the couch where Hades is supposedly sleeping. She almost gets the ember from the coffee table. But hades grabs her hand)

Mal (chuckling nervously): aha. Hey dad?

Hades: Iris? IRIS!!!!

(He pulls her into a crushing bear hug)

Hades (maniacally): HAHAHAHAHAHA

Mal: AHAHAHAHAHAH

Hades: oh I’m so glad to see you. Oh my me I thought I’d killed all four of you. Tell me. Your sister. The boys. Are they ok?

Mal (strained because she’s being crushed by the hug): stop. Hugging me. (He lets her go). Evie’s fine. She’s got soot streaks, she’s hiding behind the pillar at the entrance, don’t think I didn’t see you chicken out E, and she’s insisting I’m wrong. Excuse me. Ahem. HA! I WAS RIGHT. YOU WERE WRONG. HAHA! Where was I? Oh yeah. Ben’s hair is fully purple and he’s growing wings. And jay’s ass, though apparently a tiny bit bruised, or so he says, I don’t really wanna know, is fine. Doug is also fine. We’re good. We’re all good.

Hades: and your brother?

Mal: right behind me. Daydrunk in the satin robe that doesn’t reach his knees

Hadie: I made it when I was 16. Growth spurts.

Mal: ahhh

Hades: your other brother. Probably know him. That doug boy stabbed him last year. Somewhere very tender and bruisable

(His voice drowns out as Mal realises in horror what he means)

Hades: ...I was gonna call him Icarus but his sister on his fathers side, paychotically vile little thing, named him after herself. Harry. I think. Harry Hook. Yeah?

Hadie: yeah. Yah. Yes. Harriet is such a bitch. First child born here. Thinks it gives her a tight to act like a Hera disciple. Oh dear

(Mal’s fainted. Her father and brother put her on the couch and Evie gets over herself and emerges from behind the pillar)

Evie: tell me she’s wrong. Tell me your lying. Tell me that thing, isn’t my brother.

Hades: I don’t lie Hest

Evie: MY NAME IS NOT HESTIA. MY NAME IS EVIE GRIMHILDE. MY MOTHER IS THE EVIL QUEEN. SHE PAID A MALE PROSTITUTE TO SPEND THE NIGHT WITH HER EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO And KILLED HIM WHEN SHE FOUND OUT SHE WAS PREGNANT WITH ME. THAT IS IT. THAT IS MU HISTORY. I AM NOT THE BASTARD DAUGHTER OF A MORTALISED GOD.

Hades: your mother is a cheapskate (he changes from Sebastian Stan to John Barrowman) and as you can see my dear, I’m very much alive.

Hadie: she’s waking up. You ok kid?

Mal: what happened

Hades: you fainted when I told you Harry hook is your brother.

Mal: oh. Well. I would’ve guessed it eventually. Gods are whores. He’s a whore. It balances out

Hades: thank you for summarising our history so succinctly.

Mal: well it’s true. And why don’t you look like me

Hades: oh. Right. Um. (he changes from John Barrowman to Jesse L Martin) hello heh heh

(He smiles nervously)

Mal: Ahhh. Now that makes sense. And I didn’t faint because of the revelation. Though that is a nauseating concept. My fiancé’s in trouble. I have to get back home.

Hades: of course. Take the ember. It can help. Gods are a step above genie. So if you two Ben and Jay use it together you can burn him from the inside. Uh be careful though. You’re only half god. The boys aren’t even a millionth. It could backfire. Conflagrantly.

Mal: eh. That’s par the course for our plans. C’mon sis

(She start to leave with the other two in tow. But Evie throws out her arm to stop her)

Evie: nuh uh. We’re not going anywhere until we get answers. He owes us that much

(At the docks Facillier is taking a lunch break stroll. A huge plume of water shoots upwards and back down onto the pier drenching him. When the water dissipates Uma’s kneeling in front of him craddiling the barnacle covered Harry in a Pieta pose)

Uma: help me. Please dad. Help me

(In the forest back in Auradon the girls are slowly making progress)

Dizzy: I’m bored

Jane: well I’m sorry Dizz but he’s probably exkecting magic or a vehicle. So you’ll just have to be patient.

Dizzy: There’s not even any food.

Lonnie: time sensitive mission kiddo

Dizzy: I’m nearly fourteen.

Lonnie: meaning.

Dizzy: I want you to teach me how to fight.

Lonnie: really? Well. First things first. Movies. Books. Tv. Forget it. Improper practice. Not conducive to what we need to do. You gotta be gentle. But at the same time. You gotta be tough.

Dizzy: well that’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one

(This is when “lesson number one” happens. Back in Auradon Ben is practicing the violin. This is when “human” happens)

#disney descendants #zendaya!mal

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samayla · 4 years

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Hobbit Fic: Gemini

AO3

Bilbo may be a Baggins of a Bag End, but his twin sister Bella inherited all their mother’s Tookish tendencies. If one Hobbit burglar is good, surely two will be better… right?

Rating: G

Wow... it’s been FOREVER since I last updated. If you’ve been waiting, welcome back! And if you’re new to the AU, just plain welcome!

Chapter 16: At the Sign of the Prancing Pony

Kili was grinning like a maniac.

As he bustled past with another tray piled high with dishes of cobbler, Ori smiled to herself and turned to a fresh page in her sketchbook to capture the way his hair clung to his sweaty face, and the way his eyes gleamed in the firelight, equal parts proud and excited. The Prancing Pony’s common room was a bustling, sweltering hive of activity, and Kili was right at home at the center of it.

Word of cranberry apple cobbler had spread through Bree like wildfire, with first the local hobbits, then big folk and even travelers showing up, and more and more ingredients had been donated to the cause. Now, the place had the air of a festival day - all laughter and color and unrestrained merriment.

Bilbo supervised the kitchen staff in the preparation of his secret - though apparently famous in the lands in and around the Shire- family recipe. Meanwhile, Kili had taken it upon himself to head up the small army of volunteers eager to lend a hand in exchange for a bit of dessert - and a peek at the apparently famous recipe, Ori suspected. Some, he turned over to the inn’s head cook, who directed them in arranging a frankly impressive spread of cold meats and cheeses, pickled vegetables, day-old bread, and fresh fruit. Others, he put to serving and collecting dishes. Still others worked with Dwalin to find places for everyone to sit. Under his eye, dinner had spilled out of the inn’s common room and into the square outside, with the latest arrivals laying out blankets and towels when the tables and chairs ran out.

Though Kili’s enthusiasm for the party was infectious, he wouldn’t hear of the other company members lifting a finger.

“More’n enough help to be gettin’ on with,” Dwalin had growled in agreement, and he’d installed Ori and her sisters at what he declared was the best table to watch the proceedings. Nori disappeared within the hour, but Ori and Dori were enjoying the evening of relaxation.

Bella materialized out of the throng with three cups in hand.

“What’s that then?” Gloin demanded from the next table over, as Bella passed a cup each to Ori and Dori. The banker was already well into his own cups and was growing embarrassingly belligerent.

“Dandelion wine,” Bella chirped, apparently unbothered by his gruff manner. “Butterbur’s ale is fine enough, I’ll warrant, but this time of year, nothing beats his dandelion wine.”

“Bah!” Gloin downed the rest of the ale in his cup. “You halflings are all starry-eyed over nothing! Never been out yer little hidey-holes!”

Bella shrugged, unwilling to let Gloin get under her skin, though Ori’s artist’s eye noticed the faint pink tinge that made the freckles on her cheeks stand out. “It’s Bilbo’s first time out this far, true enough, but I’ve been out this way plenty of times.” She turned her back resolutely on Gloin’s table and addressed Ori and Dori instead. “Never could sit still, you see. Always something to do or someplace to go. Bilbo shares my taste for little adventures, of course. He just prefers his come out of a book, where he won’t get burrs in his toe hair.”

“He’ll be facing a great deal worse than burrs in his toe hair,” Thorin rumbled suddenly from behind Ori’s shoulder, making her jump and slosh wine onto her sketchbook.

Bella whipped out a pretty little embroidered handkerchief, and Ori had the fleeting thought that she’d like to sketch the little purple flowers from the border sometime, before Gloin snatched it away with a bitter laugh. “Don’ tell me,” he slurred. “Chrys-s-san...Chrysanth...Chrys’mums for cleanin’!”

“Belladonna, Master Gloin,” Bella sniffed, snatching the cloth right back again and attacking the spill as Dori pulled out her own handkerchief to help. “A gift from my dear cousin Otho on his last birthday. I figured a little adventure like this was the perfect chance to misplace it.” She held out the dripping sketchbook. “Here, Ori. I’ll let you take care of that. You’ll know better than anyone what can be done about it.”

“My apologies, Ori,” Thorin said gently. He passed over his own handkerchief to aid in the cleanup effort. “I will stop in the market for a new book first thing in the morning.”

“No need for that,” Ori hastened to assure him. “I was going to stop for a couple of spares in the morning anyway.” She blotted away more wine from the cover. “Most of this one’s in charcoal anyway, so once it dries, I can sharpen up any blurred lines, and it’ll be good as new.”

Thorin smiled away her protest, and Ori knew she’d lost this particular argument already. “Knowing you, that one is near full already.” Dori started to protest as well, but Thorin countered her argument expertly. “It is a company matter: we cannot have a scribe without a proper supply of books. I’ll find a replacement and some spares tomorrow. I insist.”

There was nothing Ori could say to that, and the soft smile Bella hid behind her wine glass said she knew it too. Thorin was too good sometimes.

“Whatever an ‘Old Took’ is, it can move mountains in this part of the world!” Kili flopped into the chair Dori had just pulled out for Thorin.

“Here,” Bella chirped up at Thorin. “You can have my seat. We’re about due for a refill anyway. Anyone else want anything? Kili? Thorin?”

Kili started to answer, but Thorin cut across him as Gloin banged his fist on the table he was sharing with Oin. “We are drawing more than enough attention to ourselves already.”

“Nonsense,” Bella answered. “If you’d only put on that smile again and lend a hand, you’d blend right in with the rest of the crowd. No one need ever know they’d shared dessert with a grumpy dwarven king.” She slipped away through the crowd with her armful of glasses before Thorin could answer back.

“She’ll be in a sorry state come morning,” Gloin groused suddenly.

“Nah,” Kili answered at once. “Looks to me like halflings can hold their liquor just as well as we can.”

“Better than some, I hope,” Thorin muttered.

Kili laughed. “I don’t know… Nori’s got herself in a drinking contest with one of them back in the corner, and he’s matching her drink for drink. Not sure where either of them is putting it, if I’m being honest. Four helpings of cobbler, too. Each! Not that I blame them,” he babbled happily, still grinning and paying more attention to the room in general than he was to the dwarves at the table. “Phenomenal. Better than Ma’s - and that’s saying something!”

“Cheats!” Gloin bellowed suddenly.

Kili whirled, confused.

“Cheats, the lot of ‘em! Anyone could cook like that with the vendors on their side! Take my wife! Take my wife! Excellent cook! Best in the Blue Mountains - meanin’ no offense to your lady mother. Jus’ a fact. Best in the Blue Mountains. But even she - even my wife! - would have a hard time competing with these halfling cooks when every little thing she needs costs her an arm and a leg. Inferior quality, too, I’ll warrant!”

The others at the table were dumbstruck by this outburst, but thankfully the rest of the room seemed to be too loud and chaotic for it to have attracted much more attention than that.

“It’d be silly to let such a small matter as -” Dori began, but Gloin cut her off, chest puffing up as he slammed his fist on the table again.

“Small? Small! They’re downright dimn-dimin...diminuitive! What business have they got cooking so well? What do they do with it all? They’re so tiny!”

Kili frowned and peered around at some of the nearest hobbits. “They’re not that small.”

Gloin scoffed. “Half-lings, lad,” he said loudly. “Half. They don’ call ‘em that on account o’ bein’ large!”

If they weren’t drawing undue attention before, they were now. The conversation around them soured and then died. Ori saw Thorin’s shoulders shift and knew his hand was going for the hilt of a knife.

“Come on, Gloin,” Dori said, as though nothing at all were the matter. She stood and hauled him upright as well. “Why don’t you show me that picture you brought of your dear wife, hmm? I heard you telling Dwalin it was quite a flattering likeness, but you haven’t shown me yet.”

Gloin blinked blearily. “Haven’ I?” He lurched away from the table, only Dori’s strong grip on his arm keeping him vertical. “Well, come on, then. No time like the presen’, I always say. Righ’ flatterin’ likeness. Righ’ flatterin’.”

The tension slowly eased around their table as Gloin was escorted upstairs, but Thorin did not look particularly relieved. Ori patted some more at her damp sketchbook to keep her hands busy, while Kili tried to work out how Gloin managed to win their argument.

“Halflings,” he muttered as Bella returned with refilled glasses and Fili at her side. “Half. Lings. Half-lings…”

“We are hobbits, Kili,” Bella said shortly as she took up Dori’s vacated seat. Fili spun Gloin’s chair to join their table. “We are not half of anything.”

“I meant no offense,” Kili was quick to assure her.

“None,” Fili confirmed. “That’s just what the men call your folk.”

“Elves too!” Kili added emphatically.

Bella snorted. “In that case, I should be calling your folk Naugrim.”

Kili made a face. “What’s that mean?

“Stunted people,” Ori blurted, before she could think better of it. Her cheeks flushed as Thorin growled.

Bella paled. “Perhaps it would be best if we agreed to leave the more ill-considered aspects of Elvish nomenclature aside.”

“So, if you’re hobbits,” Ori ventured, eager to talk about something that wasn’t likely to make Thorin any angrier, “are their different words for male and female? Like dwarves and dams?” She flipped through until she found a page in her book that was mostly dry.

“Ooh!” Kili exclaimed. “Wom-bit?”

“Nah, Ki,” Fili answered. “That’s that rat-thing from Balin’s stories about the Dark Land.”

“Fine. She-bit?”

“Gal-bit,” Fili countered.

Kili grinned. “Fe-bit!”

Fili blushed, but he was saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of Bella’s brother, who flopped down onto the arm of her chair with a pleased huff. “Well, that’s the last of it!” He passed a cup to Kili. “For my assistant! You have to try this!”

“What is it?” Kili asked, the cup already halfway to his lips.

“Only the best dandelion wine I’ve ever tasted,” Bilbo declared happily, taking a swig of his own.

Kili swallowed hard and started to cough.

“What’s the matter?” Bella asked, clearly alarmed by his reaction. “Don’t you like it?”

Ori glanced from Kili and Fili to their uncle and back again. She was not at all sure that was a story any of them wanted repeated.

“Might like it a bit too much, if mem’ry serves!” Dwalin clapped both Kili and Fili hard on the shoulders as he strode up. “Come give us a hand, lads. They want dancing.”

“Twist my arm,” Kili laughed, clearly relieved. He bowed low and offered Bella his hand. “Care for a dance, fair Lady Bell?”

Bella giggled and gulped down the rest of her wine before reaching for his hand. Fili swooped in and grabbed Kili instead, twirling away with him. “There are tables to move first, dear brother,” he said formally. Bella laughed outright and followed them out to where several of the men were already shoving tables out to the edges of the floor.

“What about you, Master Baggins?” Thorin asked. “Do you share your sister’s love of dancing?”

Bilbo chuckled, but flopped down into his sister’s chair. “Normally, I’d say yes, Master Oakenshield, but alas, my poor feet have already taken quite the beating these past few days. I think they’d prefer a rest while I enjoy the festivities from afar.”

“We have much farther to go,” was all Thorin said in reply.

The musicians started up, and for a few minutes, the three of them were content to watch. “Will you join the dancing, Ori?”

“Oh, no,” Ori said, blushing as she watched Dwalin and Fili stomp out a complicated figure in the middle of the dancefloor, to much clapping and cheering. “I’d much rather sketch. Everyone is so merry tonight, it’d be a shame to forget about it later.”

Bilbo sighed contentedly and settled back in the chair, sipping at his wine. “I can see the draw of it all now, I suppose. The travelling, I mean. I can understand a bit of why Bella would want to run off, if this was what was waiting for her.”

Ori opened her mouth to answer, to tell Bilbo how sweet a thought that was, but Thorin beat her to it. “There is more to the world than baking and dancing, Master Baggins,” he rumbled.

Bilbo was quiet for a minute, staring determinedly at the dancers, while Thorin lit his pipe, and Ori dared hope that would be the end of it. Bilbo had made so many people so happy today. It wasn’t fair of Thorin to shove reality back in his face so rudely. He was only trying to help.

Suddenly, Bilbo whirled and pinned Thorin with a glare. “I know full well the world is full of rainstorms and thunder, Master Oakenshield,” he spat. “But it seems to me that there is then even more reason to savor the sunshine when it chooses to peek out from behind the clouds.” He stared a moment longer, but Thorin didn’t appear to have anything to say to that, and Bilbo nodded to himself. He finished his drink, blushing fiercely - he had freckles, just like his sister - and marched over to join the dancing.

Ori drank some more wine to cover her own embarrassment, and she sketched in the drier margins of her book - Dwalin’s wide grin as he clapped for a hobbit lass dancing a jig, Fili twirling Bella, Kili teaching Bilbo the steps to a dwarvish dance, Bofur piping with the other musicians, Nori listing to the side as a group of hobbits and men declared her the winner of her drinking contest and passed over a small purse…

Other than asking if Ori required another refill on her drink, Thorin did not say a word after Bilbo left. He merely watched the room warily as he finished his pipe, then retired up the stairs.

#hobbitgemini #kate writes #hobbit fic #hobbit #thorin #bilbo #ori #kili #fili #dwalin #gloin #dori

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