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mothandpidgeon · 1 day ago

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Sing a Song of Sixpence (Joel Miller's Christmas Vacation)

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rating: G (fluff)

summary: Sarah requests a special trip over Christmas vacation. Joel does whatever it takes to make her wishes come true.

contents: fluff, 90s nostalgia, colonial america?

wc: 1.2k

a/n: Happy holidays to my Secret Santa, @whocaresstillthelouvre! Surprise but not really. Mallory, i knew we were going to be friends when you told me how much you love Colonial Williamsburg. I couldn't believe I found someone that overlapped in so many of my little niches. So when you told me that I was your secret Santa, I knew your fic was going to be about your favorite place. Thank you for being such a great friend, supporting me and my writing, and being my stoner buddy. I hope you enjoy your gift!

Thank you @schnarfer and @moonlitbirdie for giving this a once over! Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Sarah clutches her doll as she skips down the red brick sidewalk.

Joel hadn’t realized just how expensive a toy could be until he shelled out the $86 to buy it. Sarah had begged and begged before he gave in and got it for her. “Felicity Doll” had been on every wish list, the American Girl catalogue left open on the kitchen table for two whole years. Sarah read and re-read not only the Felicity series but Addy, Kiersten, and Samantha, too, the paperback books creased and dog eared. This was no passing fad, not a fleeting interest, and so Joel saved up and surprised her with an American Girl doll of her very own for her birthday.

She knew what was in the tall, rectangular box before she’d even unwrapped the damn thing, screeching and running around the living room in celebration. Sarah loved the doll, taking it everywhere with her, tucking it in bed beside her. Best money Joel had ever spent.

Except Felicity had a plethora of accessories and outfits, furniture and accouterments that all cost a handsome sum. More catalogues came, glossy pages with marker drawn circles around Felicity’s tea set and writing desk and pony. (“The doll has a pony?” “It’s in the books, Daddy!”) There were cookbooks and paper dolls and Sarah-sized colonial dresses that she desperately needed. It seemed that Joel was personally bankrolling the Pleasant Company.

And now he’d agreed to bring Sarah to Colonial Williamsburg. He really hadn’t had the heart to say no to her when she ask that they take a family trip there over winter break though he knew it would cost him an arm and a leg.

“Wouldn’t you rather go to Disney World?” Tommy asked.

Joel shot him a look. Disney would’ve cost three times as much but it wasn’t about the money. He was proud of his little girl for being a bookworm, choosing museums and butter churns over roller coasters and Minnie Mouse.

“It’s where Felicity’s from,” she insisted.

Sarah leads Joel by the hand down Duke of Gloucester Street. The quaint little houses are all decorated for the season– around each doorway is an evergreen garlands accented with fat, red bows. There’s a chill in the air. He hadn’t considered the weather in Virginia when he’d planned this vacation. Sarah doesn’t seem to notice, excitedly pointing out the carolers on the corner and the horse drawn carriage conveying tourists down the sandy street.

Sarah devours every little detail, listening with eyes like saucers as the interpreters dressed in old fashioned costumes drone on about milliners and beeswax candles.

Joel’s mind just keeps slipping back to the fact that he and Tommy aren’t working right now. A whole week with no income.That’s going to hurt when the credit card bill comes in.

”D’you think they ever sniped a redcoat with one of those?” Tommy asks on a tour of the Governor’s Palace, nodding towards one of the many guns hanging on the ceiling.

Sarah shushes him.

”Hey,”Joel whispers to his brother. “Remind me when we’re back at the motel, I’ve got to call and get those tiles ordered for the duplex project.”

”C’mon man. You’re thinking about work now?” Tommy complains.

”Can’t lose another day. Order it now, it’ll be waiting for us when we’re back,” Joel explains.

“Daddy! You’re not listening!” Sarah hisses.

“Sorry, babygirl,” he says, squeezing her hand in his.

He tries to pay attention, he really does. Joel’s never had much of a mind for history. Dates and places and stuffy old men. The buildings are interesting, at least. He amuses himself wondering what it would be like to build a house like they did in the olden days. A rough saw and a chisel and his bare hands. Like a pioneer on the homestead.

There’s a gift shop at the end of the tour. Of course. Joel lets out a sigh of resignation. Sarah knows better than to ask but she’s eyeing a tin whistle and a book about ghost sightings.

“Pick one,” Joel offers, hoping she goes for the book. The last thing he needs is Tommy’s yammering and the squeal of Yankee Doodle for the rest of the trip.

Her brown eyes move between the two souvenirs, lips twisted in thought.

“Shit. I’ll buy you both if your Dad’ll wear this,” Tommy says with a laugh. He’s holding up a little felt tricorn hat meant for elementary school kids.

”Really?” Sarah asks, all bright and giggling.

Joel glowers.

Dinner is a fifteen dollar hamburger at one of the historical taverns. Sarah’s doll gets its own seat at the table, a paper napkin tucked into the collar of its dress. Joel’s able to pawn the hat off on Sarah but not before Tommy got a photo on his disposable camera.

“That’s going on the fridge,” he chuckles.

As Joel pays the bill (noting the price of Tommy’s three beers), there’s a rumble of drums.

“What’s that?” Tommy asks, craning his neck towards the window.

“The militia’s coming through,” the waitress says, clearing the dish from Sarah’s ice cream sundae (the historical accuracy of which is questionable). “They’ll march in for the fireworks.”

“Fireworks!” Sarah gasps.

Joel sighs. He’s exhausted, out all day in the cold wrangling his brother and his daughter. His knees are aching and he’s ready to call it a day and go back to the motel. But Sarah is practically bouncing in her seat.

Joel bundles himself up once again and the trio join the crowd that lines the street. A fife and drum corps in their scarlet uniforms march past followed by an officer on horseback. The sun has long set and the air nips at Joel’s throat. He wishes he had a scarf, could probably pick one up in yet another gift shop but it would surely cost a small fortune. He hopes these fireworks will be over soon so he can put his feet up.

The little town looks quite festive in the night. Candles glow in every window and the street lamps cast a warm light over the tourists. A massive evergreen on the Palace Green twinkled with modern lights but it only adds to the atmosphere.

Without warning, the first firework shoots into the sky, its bang makes Tommy jump. It bursts into a shower of silver. The other spectators cheer and more fireworks follow— red and blue, green and gold.

Sarah’s gloved hand wraps around Joel’s. Her face is turned up to the sky, illuminated by the colorful fireworks. Her eyes round with wonder, sparkling pink and white from the cascade of sparks above.

She’s having the time of her life. And she deserves it. Sarah’s a good kid. Polite, studious, thoughtful. Joel’s always been proud of her though he has no idea how she turned out so sweet considering he and Tommy have been the ones that raised her. This is what it’s all for, he reminds himself. The hard work and long hours, the never ending stress of bills for things he can’t afford. It’s all for her.

She turns to find Joel watching her, his heart swollen in his chest.

“Thanks, Daddy,” she says. She squeezes his hand and pulls her doll close to her chest.

That thing was worth every penny.

Happy holidays to everyone! Special shout out to the tent pitchers and all of my moots but also to anyone that's read my fics this year. Thank you for your support.

#joel miller fic #joel miller #sarah miller #secret santa #holiday fic #tlou fic #fluff

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wayfinderships · 3 days ago

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💙 HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIMITRI!!! 💙

Ramblings under the read more

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BELOVED DIMITRI!!! Normally I wouldn't try to complete a whole drawing in one night but for him??? I'll push myself a little harder than usual-

I'm sleepy so I won't delve too much into the art process or else I'll start rambling about the parts I don't like about it bc I did it all in one night but I did want to just say that I love Dimitri so much <3

Dimitri is one of those f/os who's feelings I have for only grows stronger with time (Heck, I'd even say that now he's on par with Sanji). He's someone who I never expected to fall for (In hindsight it makes perfect sense) but I'm so glad I did! He's brought me so much comfort and joy and I only hope I can do the same for him <3 I love him so much that words can't even begin to describe! So many kisses for him on his birthday!

#pan arts #pan gushes #f/o: 👑#Afksbfksbfkdnx This is posted so late so I'd like to apologize for that-#I'll reblog it later at a better time but yeah #Happy birthday to him <3 I love and adore him so much #Drawing these two is so fun because I get to go all out with using blue-

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p3ndeja6 · 3 days ago

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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

k.seungmin x fem! reader

navidad sin ti

summary: who knew a holiday could tear you both apart, leaving one of you the most broken.

content: angst, no happy ending

semi proof read (as always)

word count: 2.0k

inspired by: marco antonio solis’s navidad sin ti

a/n: intended hispanic reader but you can read it either way, I think it’s ass.. but wtv

Seungmin hated the holidays, he always did. Who cares about lights, and trees and the smell of freshly baked cookies. not him

but you, you loved Christmas. You grew up loving Christmas for all its joy of spending it with loved one. that was one of the few things you looked forward to during the holiday season. las posadas, el ponche, los tamales.. you loved it all

though you haven’t been able to enjoy your favorite holiday because of seungmin’s bad attitude, you tried and tried to lift his spirits up by showing him Christmas cheer and the meaning of it.

he couldn’t get it wrapped around his brain, what was so special about Christmas?

your first Christmas with seungmin wasn’t…well it was disappointing.

you thought he just played the “I don’t like Christmas act” real good but when you both celebrated Christmas together for the first time.. you saw that he really didn’t like Christmas. you did your best with the lights and the tree decorating by yourself, as well as buying him gifts.

maybe he’d understand the gift giving part, I mean he gifts you for your birthday.. relatively okay..

Christmas Day comes around and you’re excited for the day, you usually spend it with your family and participate in posadas but seungmin was against the idea and he was far from so… you stayed home with him on Christmas Eve.. enjoyed a dinner you made and watched Elf.

you both went to sleep around 10:22 pm, it was early for you considering the fact that you stay awake until midnight to give the “abrazo de navidad” but no.. seungmin fell asleep. So you went to bed

it bugged you but you pushed through it. Morning came along, 8:13 am. You got up and went to prepare breakfast, put another Christmas movie on and turned the Christmas lights back on, your spirit was good and were excited to give your gifts to seungmin, spent your hard earned money to make him feel special and show him how much you appreciate him.

He hadn’t woken up until 9:00 am exactly, grumpy and groggily

“mm ugh y/n turn that down” he said annoyed, “you looked at him and grabbed the remote quickly, turning it down to volume 13. “sorry, I didn’t think it was that loud”

he looked at you, and then looked around the living room. again lit up by those damn lights, and ugh that stupid kid who is always left alone is back in the screen.

“y/n I thought Christmas Eve was your Christmas Day” “well technically yeah but you fell asleep before 12 so we have to celebrate it today as well.. I mean it is Christmas” you said while putting the last gift under the tree getting up and going towards him, smiling softly and going to kiss him on the cheek. “Merry Christmas baby”

he groans softly and looks at you, he hated to admit but he loves when you kiss him, he smiled softly at you

“so do you wanna have breakfast first or open presents?” You smile at him

he groaned again

“eat, I wanna eat” You quickly put the already served breakfast plate on the table, “enjoy cutie” you said

he sat down and began to eat, taking his time eating and drinking his orange juice. You were getting impatient and wanting to hurry up so he can open his gifts.

after 30 long minutes he finally finished. Looking at you with a small smirk

“okay done? okay cmon let’s go by the tree i have things i wanna give you”

“ughh y/n please you don’t need to do that, seriously I don’t want any” that’s because from all the hating of Christmas he was doing he completely forgot to buy you gifts, only got you three gifts and they were things you didn’t even want or needed. Worse they weren’t wrapped or put in bags

“no cmon min, i wanna give my gifts to you” you said with a smile, making him sit down on the couch as you go towards the tree and reach for a couple of gifts for him to start off

“Open all of mine first okay?” The guilt started to get to him. Just the forgetting to get you gifts part, not the hating Christmas… he thought

“oh.. alright then” he said, you handed him the first wrapped gift, all nicely wrapped with a pretty metallic bow on top. The sticker saying ‘to min min from y/n :)’

he carefully unwrapped it, opening the box and seeing it was the sweater he’s been eyeing since thanksgiving.

“oh wow.. I- thank you babe..” he said with a hint of guilt

“It’s not problem” you smiled at him.

after that gift came another one and another and another and another. until he was all done with his gifts. All the things he loved and wished for

it was his turn…

you sat there smiley,waiting for him to bring you your gifts.

once he came back to the living room, he a bit shamefully handed you the items he bought you.. unwrapped or put in a gift bag

“oh…”

looking at your gifts, a rather distasteful cardigan. a pair of fluffy socks, and chocolates…

“uh… thank you baby.. i love it” you said with a weak smile

you wanted to be grateful he got you anything at all but.. it just stung when this was all he could come up with.

you smiled weakly and looked at the items, nodding and standing up to give him a quick hug.

you felt the spirits get crushed, not only did your boyfriend hate your favorite holiday but he made zero effort to show interest in something you loved no matter how much he hated it.

a year later and again the holidays were coming up. All was good not during the holidays but once Black Friday ends, it’s like a switch that turns on with seungmin

it pains you that it got to the point where it made you rethink about how you felt about seungmin. You love him you really truly do but it’s getting to the point where you can’t even mention Christmas or anything without him getting annoyed and storming out

12 days before Christmas and you finally decided the hard choice to break things off. You didn’t want it to come to this. God it was so stupid to break up over something like this but to you it meant a lot and he just couldn’t see it. He can never see it.

you chickened out and wrote him a letter instead

Seungmin, i know you’ll hate me for this and you’ll hate me even more for doing it this way. Though i want you to know how much i really do love you. More then anything, how id do anything for you… it’s just during the holidays, they’re special to me and you know how sensitive i am when it comes to Christmas. you never show any interest, even if you hate it. A slight bit of interest is all i ask for but you always refuse to give it to me. It genuinely hurts me when you act this way towards me. so what im saying is, our relationship cannot go from here. I don’t want to but it’s best for me and you for us to end it. You can live better without me bugging you about the small things I love, especially christmas.

He came home from work early, he was dreading coming home knowing 12 days before Christmas you started to decorate the apartment with lights and the tree and all that jolly shit

he opened the door, waiting to be hit with the colorful bright lights being hung up by you. When he opened the door to see dark. Pure darkness, quiet and cold.

he called out your name, no answer

he turned on the lights to look around, headed towards the bedroom, when he walked in to see it empty. Your stuff..? Where is it?

he say a note on the bed, he grabbed it and the crinkling of the paper being unfolded being the only sound in the house.

He read the letter, his throat feeling tight, stomach dropping and his heart breaking.

he wasn’t sure what to feel.. god he felt so stupid that he pushed you away with his attitude.. not only in general but especially during the most special time of the year for you.

he lost you… forever.

11 days before Christmas

he wasn’t sure what to do, especially not without you around him. You usually hang up lights around the place first. while watching your favorite Christmas movie

it hasn’t hit him that you are really gone

6 days before Christmas

the days are getting closer to Christmas and he’s “happy” that he doesn’t have to deal with that shit anymore. but all of that shit was because of you.

3 days before Christmas

he decided to maybe go for a walk.. in freezing snowy weather. His feet led him to your neighborhood.. seeing lights, families and kids running around. The sound of posadas, or mexican christmas caroling you explained to him. He didn’t realize he joined a posada, hearing them sing and laugh. Letting everyone in, including seungmin. Being offered your favorite holiday drink… ponche. He remembers the first time he tried it with you

“cmon just a sip min” you smiled, he reluctantly took the sip. Pretending to hate it but eventually had like five cupfuls of ponche by the end of the night.

he didn’t expect to see you but he was hoping he would.

1 day before Christmas

the apartment was dark, and cold… no joy, no Christmas cheer, and no one for him to be near.

his first Christmas without you

he couldn’t bear it.. but this was his fault. if only he tired a little harder to make you feel happy. If only he tried to be the best for you.. when all you did was make him happy even if he didn’t show it. He regrets not showing it.

A year has passed and the holidays are approaching; once again he has to celebrate your favorite holiday, by himself.. regretting everything that lead him to lose you.

he sees your ghost walking around his apartment, hanging up lights, decorating the tree, baking cookies, as well as making your favorite cultural comfort food.

he didn’t realize he started to cry.

“seungmin.. you did this to yourself” he said to himself. As he wallows in self pity… the darkness of the living room consuming him. His light was you, and he let that light get blown away.

the loneliness eating him alive, he wishes you were here with him… with him to celebrate Christmas..

he finishes putting the last ornament on the little Charlie Brown tree he bought. looking at the poorly put on lights, and the messy organization of the different colored ornaments he places around the small tree

he looks at it, the tree being the only source of light in his apartment.

He thinks about you often.. wondering what you’re up to, if you’ve moved on, if you still love Christmas, hoping he didn’t ruin it for you.

“Another Christmas without you y/n”

he sits there, looking at the tree once again.

sitting here in the loneliness, wishing you were here. I don’t know where you are but I’m hoping you’re happy.

I keep remembering the day I lost you

again christmas comes, and here I am without you.

I look at myself in the mirror, my pale skin, baggy eyes, as the holidays approach once again.

Sitting here, holding the gift you always wanted… now I look over at the picture of us sitting nicely on my coffee table… us happy and in love, forcing me to take that picture by the big Christmas tree.. even though I was at my happiest right there..

I lost that… I lost you..

the agony the holidays bring me, I never had a reason to hate it but… now.. now I do..

christmas comes and here I am, alone and without you. keep replaying the day I lost you.

I want nothing but the best for you

merry Christmas y/n…

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fanfictiongirlie · 2 days ago

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Marvel: Unplanned Chapter Fourteen

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First person written though)

Description:

"It says...it says it's positive doll" His voice matching mine in a quiet shaky whisper.

"Fuck... I'm pregnant?"

"Yeah doll, you're pregnant"

"Fuck" I whisper.

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: Swearing

Chapter Words: 1,364

Sorry for the long wait! I had a dental procedure, so I haven't felt like being on my pc. Enjoy! <3

It was the day before Jamie's first birthday and I was in the Avengers common room decorating. Bucky watched me, leaning against the wall, his eyes watching my every move. He tried to help, but I told him off for doing it wrong too many times. I hung streamers and balloons everywhere, the room was full of colour. His arms were crossed and a look of amusement was over his face as he watched me.

"Can't believe our girl is gonna be one" I mutter, knowing he could hear me still. Bucky lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Me neither, it feels like you were only just pregnant and now we have a one year old" He adds.

"I know, it feels so sad, but so happy at the same" I say finishing up the last of the decorations. Bucky walks over to me, standing behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist, holding me close to him. He rests his chin on my shoulder. I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a second, feeling him, allowing myself a moment to breath and feel content for a moment in his arms.

"Yeah, it's bittersweet, happy to see how much she's grown, sad that she's growing up fast" He mumbles, his words soft as he speaks.

"I know, I love our girl" I add. I feel him hug me a little tighter, his chest pressed against my back, his body wrapping around mine protectively.

"Our little girl, our Jamie" Bucky whispers.

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

And then, it was the next day, the Avengers were in the common room with us, minus a few whom were on missions. And Jamie, was sat on the floor surrounded by way too many toys. She giggled happily playing with her new things. I bit my lip smiling widely. Bucky sat on the floor by Jamie, helping her play. I watched him fondly, his eyes shone with pride and fatherly love as he watched her. He glances my way, smiling widely at me.

"Happy birthday sweet girl" I whisper to her as I stroke her hair softly. I watched as she grabbed another toy and turn to wave it in my face, excitement over her face.

"Wow baby, that's so cool" I smiled to her. Jamie continued to grab toys and show me, a little giggle would leave her lips when I told her they were cool.

"What one is your favourite?" I asked her, Jamie looked from me to her toys, she grabbed the little fuzzy bear plush she was gifted and held it close to her chest, cuddling it.

"And who got you that baby?" I asked. Bucky smirked and reached to Jamie pulling her close to his chest "Dada got you that sweet girl" He grinned.

"Yeah he did" I smirked, watching Bucky cuddle her close to him.

"So when's the next baby due?" Sam asked, I looked over to him glaring slightly. Bucky choked on his breath slightly, his eyes widening in surprised, he looked over to me.

"There isn't one, thank you very much" Bucky says.

"And there won't be one" I add. Bucky looks grateful at my words, which made me feel better, we hadn't spoken about it, but I didn't want anymore.

"Yeah, no plans for any more kids, Jamie's enough for us" Bucky says, smiling down at her.

"And birth was traumatising, I never want to go through that again" I add, cringing at the memory. Bucky nods in agreement, the same cringing look over his face. He reaches to me, resting his hand on my leg, calming me down, I shake the memory from my head and smile down at him and Jamie. Sam luckily didn't answer us after that, he looked like a kid that had just been told off.

Finally we sang to Jamie and had her birthday cake, Bucky and I helped her blow the candles out, since she had no clue what to do. We gave her a piece of the cake, it was the first time she had sugar so I was a little nervous, but she devoured it, making a huge mess of herself in the process. She had icing all over her face, her hands were sticky and there were cake crumbs everywhere. Bucky looked at me, a smile playing on his lips.

"Seems like our girl likes cake" He chuckles.

"She's so goofy" I giggle, taking a picture of her. Bucky grins, enjoying the sight of her covered in cake just as much as I was enjoying it.

"She sure is....And messy, but it's her birthday, so it's allowed!" Bucky smiles fondly at Jamie.

"Dibs not bathing her!" I call out, smiling widely at Bucky. He looks at me with a fake grumpy face.

"Oh no doll, no way! You've got this one, I'll take diaper duty any day over bathing sticky sugar off her!"

"I'll take that!" I grin, fisting the air, Bucky grins back his eyes full of amusement.

"You sure about that? You know she's gonna splash, get water and bubbles everywhere?" He asks.

"Yeah, but she's gotta poop that cake out, and now that's a you problem" I say smirking. Bucky groans, his expressing turning comically pained at the thought.

"Oh god... I take it back! I'd rather deal with the war of bubbles than poopy diapers" He groans.

"Too late!" I smile poking my tongue out. Bucky laughs and shakes his head in defeat. My eyes went back to Jamie, who was licking the icing off her arm. Everyone laughed, happy to see Jamie so happy and enjoying her birthday. Once the birthday excitement was over, I was in the bathroom with Jamie, she laid in her tiny bath inside the bath as I washed the cake from her brown hair.

"So messy" I mutter, she giggles and squirms in the bath, splashing the water everywhere, she reached for one of her bath toys and splashed it against the water causing it to land on me.

"Silly girl, I guess dada was right, wasn't he?" I said fondly to her. She splashes me again, Bucky then appears in the doorway, leaning against the doorway, watching the two of us with a smile.

"I told you, messiest baby ever" He grins.

"Don't listen to dada" I say to Jamie as I pour more water over her hair. Bucky feigns hurt, his hand pressing against his chest as he pretends to be wounded. I giggled softly looking at him, our eyes meeting, playfulness in both sets.

"Dada" A little voice just spoke, I looked to Jamie, my eyes wide. Bucky moved from the door to crouch next to me, we both looked at Jamie, shock in our eyes, smiles on our lips.

"Did she just... Doll, did she just say dada?" Bucky asks, his voice higher than usual.

"She did...Jamie, say it again" I said, stroking the baby's cheek softly. "Say dada"

"Dada!" She giggled saying it again, obviously enjoying the attention she was getting from both me and Bucky. Bucky held his hand to his chest, his mouth open in shock. He looked like he might cry.

"Oh Bucks, her first word" I say, tears burning my eyes. Bucky's eyes grew misty, his voice a little choked with emotion.

"Yeah doll, her first word...and it's dada!" He grins proudly.

"Yeah baby...dada...now say mama" I giggle to Jamie, she looks from Bucky to me, her little face scrunching, she babbles for a moment.

"Dada" She giggles. Bucky lets out a shaky laugh.

"No baby, mama" I giggle, Bucky joined in saying mama to her. Finally after a little bit of trying, Jamie said mama. She said it with such excitement in her voice, enjoying me and Bucky giggling with her. Bucky and I cheered her when she said it, she was snuggly in her bathrobe when she finally said it, clinging to both me and Bucky whilst we sat on the couch. We spend the evening giggling as she called mama and dada.

"We've got a talkie girlie now love" Bucky grins.

"Yeah we do Bucks" I say smiling as I cuddled Jamie close to me.

Taglist:

@quinquinquincy @jaybbygrl @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @learisa @hi172826 @ravennablue @purplecolordeer @a-small-blue-nebula @buckitostan @knyaotjjkbiatch

#fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #marvel smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes pregnant au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader

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littlest-w01f · 2 days ago

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Midnight

Feyre x BatBoys

FEYRE MASTERLIST

RHYSAND MASTERLIST

CASSIAN MASTERLIST

AZRIEL MASTERLIST

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

Summary: Rhysand wants to give the best gift to Feyre. He's more than happy to invite Cassian and Azriel to help make sure everything went perfectly.

Cw: Feysand domming Cazriel. That's it. That's the warning list. Also, bondage, blindfolds, darkness tendril collars and leashes, Evil Rhys? Just a *little* mean. Body worship, mirror kink, shadow play, size difference, FxMxMxM, Smut 18+ MDNI

A/N: IT'S MY MOMMY'S BIRTHDAY! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY FEYRE, YOU DESERVE THE BEST.

The moonlight filtered through the windows as Rhysand approached Feyre from behind, wrapping his arms around his mate's waist, he took in the sight of her, flushed against his chest, melting into him, wearing one of her favourite dresses, it was short, just reaching her knees and forming a deep V neckline that stopped right below her breasts, giving a tantalizing view of her cleavage.

"You look lovely tonight, Feyre darling." He leaned in to whisper, his nose tracing the curve of her neck as she smiled in his hold. As Rhysand's hands roamed over Feyre's curves, his fingers dipped beneath the hem of her dress, caressing the smooth skin of her thighs, gripping at her hips.

"Rhys," Feyre gasped, breathless with need, she reached back to grip his sides tightly, pulling him harder against her.

Rhysand's hands continued their sensual exploration, slipping higher up Feyre's thighs until they reached the juncture between her legs. His fingers grazed the damp fabric of her panties, feeling the heat emanating from her core.

"I can smell how much you desire me," Rhys purred, nipping at Feyre's earlobe before trailing open-mouthed kisses down her neck. "Your arousal is intoxicating."

"Feyre, my darling, I have a special surprise for your birthday," Rhysand pulled away slightly from Feyre, making her turn on her heel to face him, "I want you to wear something for me before that."

Rhysand held out the delicate silk blindfold, letting it dangle enticingly before Feyre's face. "Put this on, my sweet. Let me show you how much I adore you."

Feyre was taken by surprise, but it was pleasant, "I think I know what you've planned..." As she secured the blindfold snugly around her eyes. The lack of visual stimulation only heightened her senses, and she could feel Rhysand' hot breath fanning across her cheek. "Now what?" She smiled, leaning into him.

Rhysand chuckled low in his throat, pleased by Feyre's eagerness. "Patience, love," he cooed, running his fingers through her hair, tugging gently to tilt her head back. His lips found hers in a searing kiss, tongue delving past her parted lips to stroke along hers.

As he kissed her deeply, Rhysand's hands slid down Feyre's body, gripping her hips possessively. With a grin, he winnowed her to the House of Winds, to his room there, the cool night air enveloping them. Rhysand lifted Feyre effortlessly, cradling her in his strong arms as he carried her inside.

Once within the room, Rhysand pressed Feyre against the closest wall, his hands roaming her curves as he backed her into it. Feyre's back arched involuntarily when Rhys' mouth found her exposed throat, sucking and nipping at the tender flesh.

With deft movements, Rhysand pulled at Feyre's dress, letting the garment pool around her waist. He cupped her breasts, thumbs circling the hardened nipples as he lavished attention on her cleavage. Feyre moaned, head thrashing from side to side as the blindfold intensified every sensation.

"Oh, Rhys," Feyre whimpered, her body instinctively to meet his touch. "That feels so good."

Rhysand's hands slid lower, pushing the dress down further until it bunched around Feyre's hips. He hooked his fingers into the dress and slowly drew them down, exposing her glistening folds to the cool air. "Oh? Were you not wearing anything underneath, Feyre darling?"

"No, I didn't... I wanted to be bare for you," Feyre admitted with a sly grin, her legs spreading in a silent invite.

Rhysand's gaze darkened with lust as he drank in the sight of Feyre's nakedness. He knelt between her spread thighs, his hands gliding up her inner legs to grip her ass, squeezing the plump skin.

Leaning forward, Rhysand licked a slow stripe up Feyre's slit, savouring her. Her taste exploded on his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his cock. He circled her clit with the tip of his tongue before delving deeper, fucking her with long, languid strokes. He gripped her hips and pulled her off the wall and towards the bed.

Feyre struggled to stay on her feet with Rhysand's head buried in her cunt with the blindfold on her causing her to lose balance and land on the bed face first. Rhysand's hands immediately wrapped around her hips, holding her steady as he feasted on her cunt.

"Fuuuck, you taste divine," Rhysand mumbled against Feyre's soaked folds, his tongue plunging deeper. He lapped at her juices, savoring her essence as he brought her closer to the edge.

Feyre's face pressed into the mattress as she cried out for him, "Oh Cauldron, Rhys! Right there!" She buckled against his talented tongue

Rhysand increased his pace, devouring Feyre's climax with enthusiasm. He sucked hard on her clit, drawing out her pleasure as waves of ecstasy crashed through her. Feyre's legs trembled, threatening to give way, but he held her firm, prolonging her bliss.

Rhysand lapped up every drop of Feyre's release, flipping her on her back just to send an image of her all destroyed down their bond, making her shudder, and watching the reaction from the mirrors in the room, showing him every angle, his tongue swirling around her sensitive clit until she finally stilled, panting heavily. He released her hip, standing tall and towering over her prone form. "Now, for your gift, Feyre darling... I said something about how I'm always eager to see what sparks your interests."

Feyre's body froze, at his words, her face started burning with a blush, "Umm... Yeah, I do..." She bit her lip softly, the memory of Rhysand sweating with his brothers after their annual snowball fight. How he'd wanted her to join

Cassian sauntered in, a wicked grin stretching his lips as his eyes raked over Feyre's naked form sprawled on the bed. Azriel followed more quietly, his gaze locked intently on Rhysand, a flicker of desire sparking in his hazel depths.

"What's all the commotion about?" Cassian asked, his tone dripping with false innocence even as he stalked closer to the bed. "We heard Feyre's birthday cries of pleasure echoing through the halls."

Both warriors' gazes remained fixed on Feyre, their expressions a mix of hunger and admiration. Azriel's shadows crawled over Feyre's legs, coiling in their master's desire.

Feyre giggled breathlessly at their voice, having consented to this down the bond, at how casually Cassian and Azriel had walked in after she did.

"Ah, perfect timing," Rhysand purred, gesturing to Feyre's still-blindfolded state. "Cassian, Azriel, would you care to join me in giving our beloved High Lady a birthday she won't soon forget?"

"Happy birthday, my High Lady," Cassian whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear as he pressed a chaste kiss to her temple. His other hand trailed up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

"Thank you, Cass." Feyre hummed, raising her hand towards him, smiling when he took her hand and nuzzled into it.

Azriel stepped closer, his presence both calming and electrifying. His fingers brushed lightly over Feyre's collarbone before drifting down to cup one breast, thumb teasing her nipple. "Hmm... My Lady..."

"So responsive," Azriel murmured, leaning in to capture Feyre's lips in a tender kiss. His free hand wandered down her stomach, fingertips grazing her sensitive skin as he explored her curves.

Meanwhile, Cassian shifted beside Feyre, his muscular frame pressing against her side. He grasped her other breast, kneading the supple flesh while his lips found the hollow of her throat. Feyre shivered under their dual attentions, her hands gripping their chests and biceps, her senses overwhelmed by the heat of their bodies and the intensity of their gazes.

Rhysand watched the scene unfold with a satisfied smirk, falling back on a chair, eyeing the full-length mirror in his room, watching his closest friends worship their High Lady, his beautiful mate, his own arousal straining against his trousers. He stroked himself lazily, enjoying the show. "It seems we have quite the eager participants..."

Take your blindfold off, Rhysand spoke in Feyre's mind, watching her mist the silk into nothing. Their eyes met, Feyre on her back, Cassian and Azriel pressing into her, exploring her body while Rhysand stroked his cock at the sight, a thigh thrown over one handrest, groaning softly.

Feyre's deep blue-grey eyes sparkled with desire, drinking in the sight of her worshippers. She smiled up at Rhys, a sultry promise in her gaze, before turning her attention to Cassian.

The Illyrian warrior's hands roamed her torso, fingers pinching and rolling her nipples as he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Feyre moaned into his mouth, arching into his touch. Meanwhile, Azriel's lips trailed down her toned stomach, teeth scraping gently along before he continued his path southward.

"Mmmm, sweet High Lady," Azriel purred the title, his hot breath fanning over her cunt as he settled between her thighs. His scarred hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as his tongue delved into her slick folds, lapping at her juices with relish.

Feyre's back bowed off the bed, a sharp cry escaping her lips as Azriel's talented mouth worked wonders on her sensitive flesh. "A-Azriel!" she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair, trying to urge him deeper. "Az-"

Cassian broke the kiss to watch, his eyes darkening with lust as he witnessed Azriel's ministrations. He leaned down, capturing Feyre's mouth again in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans as his hands roamed her body, caressing and claiming every inch of her.

"Alright that's enough of this." Rhysand's voice rang through the room, and tendrils of darkness shot through from the corners of the chambers, they grabbed Cassian and Azriel, wrapping around their necks like they were dogs on leashes, pulling them off the bed and on their knees to the floor, in front of Rhysand, the warriors were taken by surprise but didn't fight as the darkness ripped their leathers off, leaving them naked and bound.

With a smug grin, Rhysand eyed his bound and helpless warriors, their erect cocks bobbing with each quickened breath. "Look at you two, so obedient and eager to please," he crooned, trailing a finger down Cassian's wing.

Cassian's hazel eyes flashed with a mix of arousal and submission, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Azriel, meanwhile, kept his gaze lowered, a flush creeping up his neck at being manhandled by Rhysand's shadowy powers, his own melting into the room from their High Lord's order.

"Now then, let's make sure these males remember who truly rules here," Rhysand purred, something fully High Lord, his own cock throbbing in anticipation and the sight of Feyre, "My love, shall we teach our loyal subjects the true meaning of devotion? It is your birthday afterall."

Feyre smirked, sitting up, she turned to Rhysand, a seductive look playing on her lips. "Why don't we start with Azriel? Show him how much we appreciate his loyalty." Her gaze drifted to the bound Illyrian's exposed cock, already leaking precum, he was huge, making Feyre nearly drool, the muscles, every inch of his body.

At Feyre's command, Rhysand leaned forward, his dark eyes blazing with possessive desire as his power dragged Azriel forward, nearly throwing him at Feyre's feet, making him groan. The Shadowsinger's breath hitched, his chest heaving with restrained need as he rested his head on her knee, looking up at her, hazel eyes black with lust.

"Oh, my sweet Azriel," Feyre cooed, running her fingers through his dark hair, tugging his head back to expose his vulnerable throat. "You've been such an exemplary spymaster... I think you deserve a special reward."

She leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she whispered, "Open wide, love." Azriel obeyed without hesitation, parting his lips as Feyre pulled him to her, locking her thighs around his head, laughing as she squeezed his head almost like a dig at him.

Azriel moaned around Feyre's cunt, his tongue eagerly probing her entrance as she ground herself against his face. His hands, still bound behind his back, clenched into fists, desperate for purchase but unable to do anything but submit to his High Lady's whims.

Rhysand watched the display with rapt attention, his own cock twitching in anticipation, when Azriel licked wrong, he pulled at the leash, silently telling him to fix himself. He mentally reached, a dark tendril wrapping itself around Azriel's thick cock, giving it a slow stroke. "Such a good boy, taking everything his High Lady gives him," He praised, his voice low and husky.

Meanwhile, Cassian watched the display with rapt attention, chest heaving as he too sat bound by Rhysand's darkness. His eyes gleamed with unbridled lust as he watched Azriel service Feyre so thoroughly. His own cock throbbed in time with the strokes Rhys' shadow delivered to Azriel's, pre-cum beading at the tip, Azriel's wings fidgeting behind him.

"Yes, just like that," Feyre purred, her nails digging into Azriel's scalp as she rode his face with increasing fervor. "Show me how much you adore me, Az. Worship me with that wicked tongue of yours."

Azriel responded with renewed enthusiasm, his tongue delving deeper, fucking Feyre with abandon as her juices coated his chin. The pressure of her heel on his wings only heightened his pleasure, and he couldn't hold back a muffled moan around her cunt.

Rhysand chuckled darkly, his grip on Cassian's bound form tightening as he felt the warrior's pulse race. "Looks like someone else is getting impatient," he teased, giving Cassian's cock a few pumps by his darkness before releasing it. "But patience is a virtue, especially when pleasing your High Lady."

He turned his attention back to Feyre and Azriel, ignoring the whine from Cassian, admiring the way the spymaster's face contorted in pleasure as he devoured her. "You're doing wonderfully, Azriel. But I think Feyre needs more than just your tongue right now."

Azriel gasped as if he could breath again, his face flushed red and lips swollen as Feyre let them go, but a triumphant glint shone in his eyes. He looked up at Feyre with a mixture of pride and adoration. The second he felt Rhysand's darkness drop him, he pounced on her.

Azriel's large hands gripped Feyre's waist, lifting her effortlessly as he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss. His tongue plunged past her lips, tangling with hers in a fierce duel of passion. Feyre moaned into the kiss, her legs wrapping around Azriel's waist as she ground her soaked cunt against the head of his cock.

Breaking the kiss, Azriel's breath came in ragged pants as he gazed at Feyre with burning intensity. "I've waited so long to have you like this, all mine," he growled, his voice rough with desire. Without waiting for a response, he positioned himself at her entrance and thrust deep inside her with one powerful stroke, filling her completely. "My High Lady."

Azriel set a relentless pace, his thick cock pounding into Feyre's dripping heat with each powerful thrust. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound mingling with Feyre's wanton cries and Azriel's guttural grunts of pleasure.

Rhysand watched the spectacle with a satisfied smile, his own cock straining against his breeches. He knew exactly what his mate needed to push her over the edge. Reaching out with his powers, he wrapped a dark tendril around Feyre's clit, giving it a deliberate squeeze. "Come now, Azriel, bark for us, all pretty."

Azriel looked up from Feyre's neck at the tug on the makeshift collar, his eyes flashing with dark amusement. "Woof woof!" the sound was mocking Rhysand, but the High Lord still reacted with an amused smile, Azriel sunk his teeth into Feyre's shoulder as he hammered into her even harder, the force of his thrusts rocking her entire body, rough growls and

"Come for us, my love," Rhysand commanded, his voice echoing in Feyre's mind. "Let Azriel feel you clench around him as you surrender to ecstasy."

Feyre screamed, her back arching off the bed as Rhysand's dark magic sent her hurtling towards climax. Azriel's cock drove into her with increased ferocity, matching the rhythm of her racing heart. The combined sensations pushed Feyre over the brink, her cunt spasming wildly around Azriel.

"Azriel! Oh gods, yes!" Feyre wailed, her nails scoring down Azriel's back as she came undone. Her inner walls rippled and convulsed, milking Azriel's cock for all it was worth.

"Fuck, Feyre!" Azriel groaned, face buried in her breasts, trying to fight off his own climax. As Feyre's contractions milked his cock, Azriel's control snapped. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside Feyre's quivering depths. A roar tore from his throat as he spilt his release deep within her, painting her insides with his hot cum. "Shit... Fuck." He gasped, staying inside her as he struggled to catch his breath, his hips twitching with aftershocks. Feyre cradled Azriel's head to her breast, stroking his sweat-dampened hair as he softened inside her.

Rhysand watched the pair with a smug expression, he knew it wouldn't be long before he joined the fray. With a thought, Rhysand summoned a strand of his darkness, wrapping it around Cassian's neglected cock. He gave it a gentle tug, earning a choked gasp from the bound Illyrian.

Rhysand dragged Azriel away from Feyre, forcing the spent spymaster onto his knees beside Cassian. "Well, is it the general's turn now, Feyre darling?"

Rhysand smirked at Feyre's eager nod, then leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Good girl. Now, let's see if we can't get these two caught up." He released Cassian's bound wrists, allowing the warrior to reach for Feyre.

Cassian's fingers found their mark, sinking into Feyre's hips as he flipped her on all fours, using her hair to pull her head up so she could look at Rhysand. As soon as Feyre's body went taut, Cassian surged upward, impaling her on his rigid cock in one smooth motion.

It was as if he was trying to take back control from when Rhysand had him bound, which made Rhysand squint his eyes at him with a hint of amusement. "Oh, Cassian, always so eager to dominate," Rhys murmured, reaching out to caress Feyre's cheek. "But you know I prefer to watch you unravel under our touch."

With a flick of his wrist, Rhysand sent another tendril of darkness curling around Cassian's throat, giving him a teasing squeeze. Cassian gritted his teeth, struggling to maintain his rhythm despite the added stimulation. "Don't stop, general," Rhys coaxed, his voice a seductive purr. "Give Feyre what she deserves."

Feyre met every savage thrust with equal ferocity, her inner muscles clenched greedily around Cassian's cock, drawing him deeper with each pump of his hips. Cassian's grip on Feyre's hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pounded into her mercilessly.

The bed frame creaked, threatening to give way under the force of their movements. Rhysand's dark energy continued to play with Cassian, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through the warrior's body with each pass. It was clear Rhysand intended to keep Cassian on the razor's edge until he couldn't take anymore.

Sweat dripped down Cassian's face, his vision blurring at the edges as Rhysand's dark magic pushed him closer to the brink. The sensation of Feyre's tight cunt gripping him like a vice was almost unbearable, her moans and cries of pleasure music to his ears.

"Cassian…" Feyre whimpered, her voice high and breathy, he was so much bigger in size, the feeling of him manhandling her making her burn. "So good… don't stop…"

Her words were enough to send Cassian careening over the edge. With a hoarse bellow, he slammed into Feyre one last time, his cock pulsing as he flooded her womb with his seed. The intensity of his orgasm seemed to draw out Rhysand's magic, the dark tendrils squeezing loosened around Cassian's throat as he shook and twitched above Feyre, trapping her under his size, covering her fully with how much bigger he was than her.

His chest heaved against her back as he fought to regain his breath. His softening cock remained lodged inside her, still twitching with aftershocks. Feyre lay limp and sated, her body slick with sweat, her skin glowing with a post-orgasmic sheen. Azriel climbed in bed with them, the three of them pressed together. The spymaster kissed Feyre's wrists, going up and down her hands, holding her hands in his scarred ones, surrounding his High Lady with his wings.

Seeing Feyre so thoroughly loved and pleased was Rhysand's undoing. With a wave of his hand, Rhysand dispelled the lingering strands of darkness, freeing Cassian and Azriel from their sensual torment.

"Feyre looks utterly ravished." He leaned down to press a tender kiss to her forehead, his fingers trailing through her disheveled hair. "And you three are quite the sight - sweaty, rumpled, and thoroughly fucked within an inch of your lives."

Rhysand's own arousal was straining against the confines of his breeches, aching for relief. But first, he wanted to indulge in a bit of playful retribution. "Think you can take one more?"

Without waiting for a response, Rhysand captured Feyre's lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to claim her mouth. At the same time, he ground his hips up, rubbing his straining cock against Feyre's folds. The friction was maddening, stoking the flames of desire higher. Rhysand broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

The four of them tumbled onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, Rhysand's body pinning Feyre beneath him. His hips continued to rock against hers, the head of his cock slipping through her soaked slit, teasing her entrance without fully penetrating.

"Every inch of this delicious body belongs to me." He nipped at her jaw, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin before soothing the sting with his tongue.

With a swift roll of his hips, Rhysand sheathed himself inside Feyre, a low growl rumbling in his chest at the exquisite feel of her enveloping warmth. He began to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that allowed them both to savour the moment.

Cassian and Azriel moved in tandem, their bodies mirroring Rhysand's as they positioned themselves on either side of the couple. Cassian's hands roamed over Feyre's curves, while Azriel's lips trailed kisses along her neck and shoulder.

Cassian's calloused palms skimmed over Feyre's breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples, making them pebble beneath his touch. Azriel's mouth left a trail of heat, his tongue darting out to taste the salt of her skin.

Rhysand's thrusts grew more insistent, his cock driving deep into Feyre's welcoming heat. He set a relentless rhythm, his hips snapping forward with each stroke. The lewd sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room, punctuated by Feyre's wanton moans and gasps.

"Look at you, my darling," Rhysand panted, his gaze locking with Feyre's as he pistoned in and out of her. "A beautiful mess, lost in pleasure."

Feyre's eyes fluttered closed, her lashes fanning across her cheeks as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. Her nails dug into Rhysand's shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin.

Cassian and Azriel's attentions only heightened her pleasure, their touches igniting sparks that raced through her veins. Feyre felt consumed, adrift in a sea of lust and devotion. Rhysand's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers biting into her flesh as he drove into her harder, faster. The bed creaked beneath them, the frame straining to contain their frenzy.

With a final, brutal thrust, Rhysand buried himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing as he spilt his release deep inside Feyre. His roar of completion echoed off the walls, mingling with Feyre's scream of ecstasy as she reached her own release. As the aftershocks wracked their bodies, Cassian and Azriel continued their ministrations, coaxing out every last tremor of pleasure from Feyre. The four of them lay entwined, panting and spent, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Cassian and Azriel's limbs tangle with Feyre's.

"Happy Birthday, My Feyre darling." Rhysand spoke softly, stroking her cheek as he cleaned them all with a wave of his hand, "I love you with everything I am." Leaning down he pressed a gentle kiss to her nose. Feyre's nose crinkled playfully at his words, "Thank you. I love you too." She nuzzled into his chest as he pushed Cassian and Azriel away to hold his mate, "And I loved this."

{General Taglist- @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-angst @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo @mellowmusings @romanticatheartt @daughterofthemoons-stuff}

{Rhysand Taglist- @yeonalie}

{Cassian Taglist- @yeonalie @nestastits}

{Azriel Taglist- @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch @fieldofdaisiies}

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your-hockey-mom · 1 day ago

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can you do an imagine about Quinn putting together a birthday dinner for his girlfriend, please?

Quinn didn’t know much about candles, putting together romantic dinners, or whether or not he had done anything correctly, but it was too late to restart anything at this point. This was a first for him; a night he hoped wouldn’t completely fall apart. Today was your birthday, and he wanted to surprise you with a quiet, little evening in his apartment where you didn’t have to do anything.

Dinner had proven the hardest part. In fact, he had spent the last couple evenings on YouTube trying to learn how to do everything before he finally attempted it. Perfectionism was no new beast to be dealt with, but he wanted nothing but the best for you and was prepared to put in the time necessary. If it would make you happy then Quinn would see it through.

The salmon was finishing up in the pan when he decided to make a few, last minute checks of everything before you arrived. He hadn’t told you he was doing something for you, in fact, he had alluded to the two of you going out instead. Quinn had asked you to wear something cute for a night out and that was really it. He was already wearing his black suit pants and a black button up shirt, and doing his damnedest not to get anything on it. He wouldn’t have time to finish dinner then change in time to meet you at the door. Thankfully, he had picked up an apron earlier in the day.. All he needed now was his jacket.

“Okay, I’ve got five minutes. Five minutes.” Quinn mumbled to himself, lighting the candles on the table and checking the time on his phone. “Five minutes.”

His heart was racing. He was nervous. He wasn’t this nervous even during last year’s playoffs. That was just business as usual; that was work. However, tonight, this was for you. You meant more to him than anything and he wanted to prove that. “Okay, candles are lit. Dinner just needs plated. Flowers are in the fridge. I’m forgetting something.” Quinn looked around, trying to figure out just what it was that he was missing.

The white apron. He was still wearing it!m Quinn took it off and hid it in one of the island cabinets. With the stove off and the pan covered, he approached the door and put on his jacket. He’d check his hair in the nearby mirror and lowered the lights. Now, if only his heart would stop beating in his ears.

“Oh, flowers, shit…!” With a quick little jog, Quinn opened the double doors to the fridge and pulled out a flower arrangement he had ordered the day before. Everything was in shades of soft pink and white and smelled so fragrant. Back to the door he would wait until he heard you knock on the door.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Quinn would say, opening the door seconds later, the flowers concealed behind his back.

“Oh! Thanks, baby!” You exclaim, pulling him in for a kiss. You didn’t even get into the apartment before he surprised you with the flowers. “You didn’t have to get me flowers!”

“Do you not like them?” Quinn asked, his face showing deep concern. Those eyes always had a hint of sadness, but now they were running over.

“Are you kidding!? Quinny, they’re beautiful! I love them! Thank you so much!” You touch his face, his eyes softening as they look upon your face. Seeing you smile always lifted his heart. “You wore your black suit, huh?” You smirk.

“I know it’s your favourite,” he winked. “Come in side, I’ve a surprise for you.”

Once inside, your eyes took a minute to adjust to the dim light. Initially, you hadn’t thought anything of it; you just assumed you’d both be leaving once you got there. Normally, Quinn always picked you up for such dinner dates or anytime you had gone out, but when he asked you to meet him at his apartment, you hadn’t put much weight into the thought.

“What have you been up to, Quinn?” You say as he leads you inside. You catch sight of the romantic candle setting, the scents about the apartment, and it dawns on you: tonight was a romantic night in, kept secret and a total surprise. “Baby…”

“Hm?” Quinn questioned, stopping you towards the kitchen island. He was searching your face for a hint as to the potential problem.

Tears are prickling your waterline. No one had ever done something so kind for you. No one had ever gone out of their way so much to surprise you with such a loving gift. “You did all of this for me?”

“Of course I did,” he smiles. “I wanted to do something for you more than just taking you out. Is it okay?”

One single tear rolls from your eye as you try to blink it away. “You’re so sweet, baby.”

Quinn whisks the teardrop away and smiles, his hand caressing your cheek. “Anything for you. Anything.”

You touch his hand with your free one. He’s truly a modern day prince, and what a fairy-tale love you had with him. Everyday gave you another reason to be so thankful to have him in your life; to be with him.

“May I serve you dinner?”

“Quinny,” you whine, smiling from all the sweet acts. “You’re too good to me.”

He pulls you close, putting the flower arrangement on the island, freeing up your hand. With your arms around his neck he holds you for a moment. Nothing is said between the two of you. Nothing needs to be said. The soft looks you both exchange say more than words could express.

#*smooch smooch*#thanks babes #nhl imagine #quinn hughes imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagine #quinn hughes

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jks1uv · 3 days ago

Text

𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐺𝑜𝑜𝑑 ; steven grant | one-shot |

summary: you reckon your boyfriend deserves something good after the terrible day he’s had.

pairing: fem!reader x steven grant.

trope: established relationship + guy has a bad day, girl makes it all better.

genre: fluff + mild angst + romance.

warnings‼️: donna’s bitch ass 😒 i HATE her bro oh my godd + crude language + steven’s had it rough + suggestive (they make-out for a lil bit, reader wears lingerie) + heavily implies sex.

word count: 1,761.

random disclaimerrr: heard MashedPotato’s full Birthday x Pillowtalk remix on soundcloud & GYAT they cooked 🙏🏽 italics = steven’s inner thoughts & bold = marc’s inner thoughts. psa: steven grant is my pretty princess 😊 happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2024 @jks1uv

────♡♡♡────

Steven’s upset. You hate when he’s upset. In your eyes, he deserves nothing but good things and a full night’s sleep.

Alas, he can’t have both.

He sighs into the phone and you can hear the exhaustion in it. You can almost feel it, too.

“‘m just ready to come home to you.” He chuckles dryly.

“Oh.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

It’s times like this when you wish you could handle another person’s problem.

You know how much of a bitch his boss, Donna, is. You don’t believe her. You can’t fathom just how annoyingly rude, pathetically rude, and disrespectfully rude someone can be, let alone to Steven.

He’s your golden boy, the best man alive. The love of your life.

How can someone hurt the feelings of a guy that doesn’t have a single bad bone in his body?

To know he’s being treated like shit and know you can’t do anything about it irks your soul.

“Alright, love, I’ve gotta go. But I’ll see you tonight?”

You beam at his reminder. “Mhmm.”

“I love you.”

You’ll never get tired of hearing that.

“I love you.” You echo with butterflies swarming around your ribs.

You end the call and think about every time Steven’s had to go through a rough patch because of her; the Devil incarnate.

And maybe that’s a bit of an overkill but you digress. She is a bacon dripping, miserable, awful, obtuse angle of a two-faced cunt.

And you know what else? Maybe you will do something about it.

────♡♡♡────

Your boyfriend is exhausted.

It’s nothing like tiredness after a night’s work of acting as Khonshu’s right hand, but it’s something.

His eyes threaten to close on him not too long before his body starts to weigh heavier each step he takes.

Just gotta make it to the elevator.

He’s hopeful, but it doesn’t last long. There’s a dreaded sign that forms the letters he wishes weren’t there.

Out of order. Use the stairs.

He stares blankly at the white piece of paper with the black, bold words staring right back at him. As if it’s mocking him.

He sighs deeply and begrudgingly moves up the four flights of stairs. Every time he blinks, he imagines his bed.

It's not too hot but not too cold.

You’re in your designated spot right next to him, curled up under the blanket watching some movie.

Steven fishes for his key to open up his little paradise.

It’s almost dark. The only sources of light being the outside hallway he stands in and the faint orange tint emitting from the direction of his bedroom.

“Love?” He calls out.

You don’t answer him. You want him to come to you and see for himself so you wait. Patiently, excitedly.

He closes the door and passes by his reflection where Marc is telling him to follow the light.

She’s in there, I can feel her.

“I know.” He hums softly.

Steven can feel Jake’s curiosity.

The mysterious man doesn’t talk much but when his presence is needed, his actions tend to speak for him.

Steven knows this because he could feel the restlessness in the brooding man when you wouldn’t pick up your phone— a curse of your ringer always being on silent mode.

“What’s going on-?”

His mouth dries up. His jaw goes slack and his eyes are cartoonishly large.

Wide awake now, huh?

Steven doesn’t bother to answer. Not when he’s too busy gawking at you.

You’re on your side, an elbow propped up to give your head an angle of his entrance. Your legs are slightly bent at the knee and your other arm rests on the curves of your side.

Lacy red lingerie and the warm, rich smell of amber cloud his senses.

You see him visibly change; his shoulders drop their tension, he straightens up his back a bit and the muscles on his face relax.

You definitely don’t miss the way his dark eyes run a trail across your body and when they meet your eyes, you recognize him.

“Go back inside, Marc.”

He scoffs. “Oh, come on. Seriously?”

Your face doesn’t change and when he realizes he won’t change your mind, he retreats.

“Alright, alright.” He raises both hands to show complacency.

“But I’ll be watching.”

He winks at you and before you can scold him, he’s gone. Left just as fast as he appeared.

Your sweet Steven is still blushy and nervous, his gaze darting all around the room. From the candles to the rose petal covered bed.

He picks up a petal and blinks.

He’s touched.

“All this… f’me?” He asks so gently, it melts your heart.

You sit up at the front of the bed; he’s between your knees and he looks down at you while you look up at him.

“Why, you expecting someone else?” You lightly tease.

You press a kiss into the side and he smiles bashfully.

You stand from the bed and he backs up a bit to give you space but you quickly close it.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he gulps. His hands are a bit shaky but he still has an ounce of courage to place them on your hips. His fingers subconsciously press into the flesh.

You pull him closer and his eyes zero in on your painted lips.

“I know you’re probably tired from today,” You murmur. “but I don’t want you to think about that right now.”

You pry a stubborn curl away from his face and bask in his gaze. The pad of your finger traces along the edge of his nose and he laughs through his nose.

His chin turns downwards but you tilt it back up. His eyes look back and forth between yours, searching for the comfort he’s desperate for. And you give it to him.

You press a soft kiss to his forehead, one to his nose, and a last one to his lips.

He melts into your affection and his mind slips away from the terrible recollection of that day’s past events.

His hold on your hips warm your cold, almost-naked body. Your lips intertwine with his and you hear him mumble.

“What did you do?” He muses.

You throw your head back and giggle incredulously.

“What did I just say!”

He smiles at the sound of your joy but he couldn’t help himself. He had to know.

“You’re in a better mood than I am, that means something.”

You roll your eyes playfully and kiss him breathless.

You grab a fistful of his luscious curls and he groans into your mouth as you tug lightly.

You take a couple steps backwards and almost have him when the familiar snap of a bra strap breaks you apart.

You wince. “Ow- what the fuck-?!”

That look on your boyfriend’s face tells you it isn’t that gentle, sweet-natured man you adore.

“Marc.” You warn.

“I’m sorry, honey, I had to! You look so fucking beautiful right now and I’ve always wanted to do that-”

You place your palm on his lips, shutting him up.

“Okay, look. You’re gonna give him the body for the rest of the night and I will see you tomorrow morning. Sounds good?”

He raises an eyebrow at your directions and grabs a handful of your thighs, pulling you flush against him.

“You’re so hot when you’re bossy. You know that?”

“Yeah.” You smirk.

He quickly pecks your lips and you can’t help but smile at his eagerness.

“Tomorrow morning.” You promise.

Before Steven changes his mind, you turn around and push him on the bed, quickly climbing on top of him.

His eyes grow once more at your actions.

“Please, Steven. No more interruptions this time.”

He sits up and watches you sit down his lap.

“O-okay.”

His heart speeds up as you plant your hands on his shoulders once again and work your way up.

Your kisses stain his neck and he shudders under you.

It’s strange, how he can never get used to your affection. All his life, all he’s ever wanted was tender care and now that he’s got it; he doesn’t know how to act.

You hear him grunt and sigh, he even turn and angles his head so you can have more access.

You’re man’s a quick learner.

His hands wander your back, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

Your lips touch his jaw and he’s putty in your hands. They graze over the skin a bit before you whisper, “You with me so far?”.

“Mhm.”

He’s on autopilot.

He feels the familiar sensation of your grin on his skin and he pulls back to see it in all of its glory.

He’s staring at you but all you see back in his eyes is the woman who’s most deserving of it.

It’s kind of poetic, actually.

────♡♡♡────

You know how people say sex leaves your skin with a sort of ‘afterglow’? Like, there’s a visible light in your face, skin, and eyes. One that can’t be ignored.

“Is there something on my face?”

Well, he can’t not wonder out loud. The man’s been getting stares, sly grins, even a pat on the back from the janitor.

You really don’t know.

Steven rolls his eyes.

“I don’t think I would’ve asked if I knew, mate.”

Marc huffs amusedly at his sass but answers him nonetheless.

It has to do with your… activities last night.

Steven feels his face warm at the mention but what did that mean?

An afterglow, Steven. It’s literally all over your face.

“Bollocks.” He whispers.

Yeah, she had plenty of those.

Steven groans at his crude remark. “That’s what we’re doing. Seriously?”

But it couldn’t be that obvious… could it?

His train of thought are halted to a full stop as he hears his boss yelling at some poor chap.

Remind me, why can’t you just quit?

“Because I love my job too much to let someone sway me away from it.”

Steven’s watching as Donna carries a box full of her own stuff and is being escorted… outside?

He looks around and finds a coworker watching the spectacle as well.

“Pardon me, but what’s going on?”

“You didn’t hear? A child found her dildo amongst the stuffed toys.”

Wow.

“I beg your pardon?”

Now this was something he did not see coming.

“I’m being set up!” Donna cries. “Please, you have to believe me!”

Steven’s having a hard time believing this but one thing he knows for sure: you don’t play about him.

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kinardsevan · 2 days ago

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I find the writing of 806 absolutely wildly awful. First, we have a date that is completely antithetical to what we've been shown a week before; we had an established couple who takes care of each other like it's the most natural thing in the world and evidently spends a lot of time together, we have Tommy 100% integrated in Buck's everyday life both on their own and with the 118 (the hospital scene, the birthday party for Chris) and all of a sudden we get Buck bumbling over a hot girl who doesn't say he's on a date (100% OOC) and who doesn't even know Tommy's gay and not bi. Second idiotic idea, Buck's answering yes to Josh's questions which are evidently things you would only say yes to if you loved someone (you don't put someone's happiness above yours if you're casually dating) and then randomly regurgitating that awkward speech instead of a very simple ' I love you' which he's had no trouble using before with other people. It just DOES NOT MAKE SENSE.

i feel like when y’all send me these messages, you’re expecting the long-winded responses at this point (at least I hope so 😂😂). EIther way, you’re about to get one lolololol.

I won’t disagree with you on the writing entirely. I don’t hate it as much as others do, mostly because I feel like I ~kindof understand what they were going for, but it wasn’t perfect by any measure. It left a lot to be desired, and I think what they were doing could’ve been achieved more effectively in other ways.

I also don’t think you’re wrong about how it feels antithetical, especially when we have Buck suggesting to Eddie in 705 that Tommy is gay, and we’re supposed to believe these two are spending all their spare time together, but are apparently not having real conversations during all that time. To that end, I can’t solve that issue for the writers. However, there are parts of your argument that I have counters to.

For one thing, I don’t think we can knock the fact that even being in a committed relationship doesn’t stop the best of us from stumbling over ourselves when we see someone we’re attracted to. People get so upset about how Buck acts in this scene that they fail to appreciate the major points that I actually enjoy about it: Buck yes, looks, (and is obvious about it), but he apologizes to his boyfriend about it in a way that makes it clear that he’s not outwardly interested in the women. Tommy also tells him that it’s okay (and we know that there’s a deleted line from this scene where he mentions finding one of the waiters good looking). To that end, we get the distinction that while these two don’t have an interest in stepping out on each other, they’re not blind.

People also get upset about the lack of Buck’s distinction that he’s on a date. And while there are a million different reasons to complain about it (or explain it away), I’m gonna go with the obvious answer of, he doesn’t owe some random woman in an italian eatery his personal life situation, especially in a place where he may not feel ready to express exactly how he defines himself. There’s a massive difference between accepting things about yourself and actually dignifying it out loud, and the fandom has been so quick to assume one requires the other. Buck knows he’s bisexual; he even knows his feelings for Tommy are deep. That doesn’t necessarily have to mean he’s put a label on who he is. Just speaking from personal experience on reaching a point where I’m comfortably labeling myself as queer,… I even struggle with that. Because people throw around all of these terms (bi, queer, pan, etc.), and it creates this pressure to say exactly what you are, which I don’t think is fair to real people, let alone a fictional character. Some might say his decision to not dignify it verbally suggests fear to, but I don’t think that’s the issue.

Further, I think the issue of “he doesn’t know Tommy’s gay”… I don’t think that’s the intention with the question. When watching it back, first of all, you have to remember from a writing standpoint, they have to have an entry for how Tommy and Abby were (previously) inclined. Moreover, asking Tommy if he’s ever been with a woman is not the same as asking him if he’s gay. Those are two entirely different questions. I can literally cite from a book to you that I own (Guilded Razors by Sam Lansky) which directly discusses being involved with women even though he knew he was gay. Evan first says that he notices Tommy didn’t look at the women when he did. I imagine that trying to figure out how fluid he is in his own mindset towards both sexes makes it confusing to understand someone who is strictly straight or gay. I can’t conceptualize of it and I’ve known personally that I liked both since I was in middle school. So I don’t think it’s ridiculous for him to ask his boyfriend (who he later will distinguish as someone he’s extremely comfortable with, and would be comfortable asking those kinds of questions to) about his attraction (or lack thereof) to women. I also think it has more to do with the follow-up question (“have you ever been with a woman”). Sometimes we ask questions that we already have the answer to just so we can get to the follow-up. When you intersect that with the “How do we bring Abby in to the conversation” of it all, it makes sense.

Second, I totally agree that Evan answering those questions points to him being in love with Tommy. When I wrote up my psychology breakdown of the break-up, I referenced two things which tell us they’re in love with one another.

-The entire “we don’t have to go that far” exchange with Josh. I think there’s a lot to be said about the fact that with Evan still figuring himself out, maybe it’s hard for him to dignify being in love with Tommy verbally. I also think that when you’re an adult and you get into serious relationships like this, there’s a period of time where you’re in love with them but you haven’t put a label on it.

-“If I were move in with you, you won’t mean to, you wouldn’t plan for it, but you’d end up breaking my heart. And I don’t think that I could deal with that.” THIS ENTIRE FUCKING LINE MY GOD. (Just rip my heart out LFJr.)

However, I think your argument about the fact that he skips over the “I love you” and straight to “move in with me” negates some serious engagement with the source material. First of all, we have an acknowledgment that Tommy’s clearly responding from a place of trauma. He’s responding from a place of “I love you more and then lose you; better to lose you here and now by my own hand”. From Buck’s side, we’ve seen him struggle with being in love. He was in love with Abby and never got to tell her, and then was strung along for months until he finally ended things in a letter to her. He was left by Ali when she couldn’t deal with his “lifestyle” (job). Love may not have entered the equation there, but he was clearly serious about her. Taylor was messy for him, but he clearly felt deeply for her, and even that blew up in his face. There are competing schools of thought on whether he truly loved her or not, but at the end of the day, that relationship fell apart due to issues with trust. Natalia wasn’t around long enough for him to dignify anything towards her.

And then there’s the mess with his parents. We’ve never had this acknowledged, but I struggle to believe that Evan grew up in a house where “I love you” was actually said out loud very much (if at all). Based on how absent we know Phillip and Margaret were (and are to some degree still), I feel like they probably lived by the attitude of “we may not have always said it, but we always felt it”….which isn’t really good enough as a parent. Your kids need to hear you say it, and they need to know it’s okay to say it back. When you don’t have that foundation, it’s hard to put those feelings into words towards others, even if you do feel it, because they might burn you. Evan has been burned, and even though we don’t know a lot of his backstory, we know Tommy has too. So while you argue that he’s used those three words towards others in the past, I counter with, did it feel this real? Did stand to lose as much? Because I don’t really view the relationship as Tommy being more in it than Evan is. I think we’re kind-of getting that “grew up in the same house but turned out different” trope. We see Tommy as someone who wants to take care of the person he loves because he hasn’t had that before, while Buck fumbles his way through wondering if it’s okay to do those things because no one has really shown him how. There’s also been commentary on the fact that he asked Tommy to move in instead of saying “I love you” because this entire relationship has been grand gestures. I think there’s something dignifying in that choice. He’s telling Tommy he sees a future with him. He talks about things like marriage, but from Tommy’s end it reads as out of left field from someone who’s still figuring out who they are in their sexuality. I think (after watching the scene back), that Evan doesn’t necessarily feel that way about himself, but the same way he railroads Tommy with the starry-eyed future, Tommy kind-of does the same thing back to him with the breakup. It’s very…. “I pushed you five steps in the wrong direction and now you’re pushing me ten steps back” (for lack of a better metaphor). And I know people argue about the fact that this entire relationship has been so key with communication from day one, but those forms of communication have never required the two of them to get down into their traumas with one another. It’s really fucking easy to have day-to-day conversations with people that stay on the surface and just keep powering through. Go back to 710 and notice how we don’t go deep into the daddy issues. They both touch on them, and then Evan changes the subject and Tommy goes with him on it. I don’t think it’s unreasonable at six months in to not have done a deep dive on major trauma. You can skate around it if it’s not something you’re ready to talk about. It’s one of my reasons for why these two will ultimately be back together in 8b, because at some point you have to flesh out the unfinished business of it all (ala Wyatt and Judd when Judd’s leg was broken). Now, I don’t know if that happens the involvement of a serial killer, or a truck/jeep/helicopter accident, or trapped in a burning building… I just know that at some point, it has to come to fruition. TM enjoys these kinds of standoffs too much to not have a plan for these two to end up in one.

That all said, I’ve said before, the general audience doesn’t have a psychology degree or years of trauma counseliing under their belt. They’re not going to look at these two and read it the same way I can. TM probably doesn’t even realize the way he’s writing it is very direct into psychological motives 😂

But, just to cover my own skin… I could always be wrong. One of my very favorite people has a completely different theory on how b/t will be handled, and we agree to disagree 😂😂😂. as I’ve said to him “the best part of this entire scenario is that one of us eventually has to be wrong”.

(circling back to your “simple i love you” just one last time as I looked at it again…. it feels siimple to us as an audience. however, verbalizing that shit out loud when you fear rejection and abandonment is an entirely different story. we know they had abandonment on the brain for Buck going into the midseason finale, and this obviously would’ve played right into it. So in what world are you going to expect him to give up “I love you” when he’s about to be broken up with. That would’ve been unnecessarily cruel.)

My last little addition, to circle back to other points I’ve made… there’s a give and take in this relationship that we need (or at least deserve) to see. Personally, I feel like Buck will be the first one to say “I love you”, but my preference would be that Tommy does. It’s the whole issue of stepping beyond the fear for me that makes me feel that way.

By correlation, I feel like Buck has to give up the loft. He asks Tommy to move in, but we’ve had many discussions about the fact that Tommy has a house with a car lift and a muay thai set up. those are not things that would translate well into a loft. Having that trade-off would show a meeting in the middle on things that they both hold close to the vest. Tommy allowing himself to love and be loved would be a major point for him, while Evan giving up the loft would suggest that he’s not just in things for the short-term, because he can also give things up for Tommy. (also, the loft is very bachelor-esque, and these two are not bachelors when they’re with each other so….)

sorry not sorry. you’re welcome for my rambles lol

#mel's musings #bucktommy #tevan #kinley #kinkley #firepilot #firebeast #anon ask #911 discourse #bucktommy discourse #ask me anything #my asks are always open

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 days ago

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Don't Mess With The Doctor's Wife 💘 | Carlisle Cullen Snippet

Twilight Masterlist Part 1

Characters & Pairings: Carlisle Cullen x female!vampire!reader (romantic), Bella Swan x Edward Cullen, Edward Cullen x reader (platonic)

Content warnings: fluff, light angst, suggestive themes right at the end | female reader (she/her) | wc: 1.4k

Premise: Just some good ole fluff of a married vampire couple of a few dumbass teen immortals.

Note: So many people loved 'The Doctor's Wife' and asked if I could continue it! not sure if I'll make it long imagines but I definitely plan on making small snippets like this that is good ole fluff of the golden couple of the Cullens dealing with their chaotic teenage immortal children. Enjoy and thank you so much for the positive reception on my work!

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

“Honey….,” Carlisle leaned against the door of their bedroom, treading carefully on water he knew better than to cross. But their whole family dynamic was at stake and as the patriarch--and coven leader--he needed to fix it.

Without any bloodshed.

Her glare, however, spoke against his hopes for peace. “Don’t honey me, Carlisle Cullen.” Clothes flung everywhere, the room in utter disarray contrary to its usually unkempt nature. “He is being ridiculous and you know it.” Tossing a pair of Manolo Blahnik pumps into the suitcase she gave him another look, “And yes, I know he can hear me.” Carlisle had opened his mouth, but closed it, his wife not having to the mind reader in the family to know what he was about to say.

“You have every right to be upset. I’m not happy about the situation either, but we have to do what’s best for our family.”

Carlisle came over to where she was, beginning to pack his clothes into his own suitcase. Brushing away the stray hairs that fell from her hair scarf, Y/n’s eyes turned serious, “What happened was unfortunate--and it is a shame Bella got hurt. He’s been beating himself over it the entire weekend and I understand that, Carlisle. But what I don’t appreciate is him uprooting us and using you as the excuse.”

Following Bella’s birthday party gone wrong, Edward didn’t waste a second in making the executive decision to the family that they had to leave Forks. Saying they were a danger to Bella and to ensure her safety and no more harm comes to her as a result of his doing, they needed to remove themselves from the picture. And Edward’s genius move was to tell Bella it was because the staff at the hospital were starting to notice Carlisle’s lack of aging.

“His concern is valid. We’ve been here four years now. It was bound to happen.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve heard people talk at the hospital?” She challenged.

“I don’t need to hear them say it aloud, Y/n,” he tells her with a knowing look. “Their stares are enough confirmation. I had one nurse ask me last week if I had a skincare routine.” His attempt at a joke doesn't work. She doesn’t so much as crack a smile, but he tries again. “Soon they’ll be asking what botox doctor I go to.”

Y/n knew Carlisle had a point. It always happened wherever they moved. They settled down, spent maybe five or six years until all the kids graduated from high school for the hundredth time, then did it all over again. If it wasn’t nosy hospital workers, it was teachers. If it wasn’t the bakery owner she frequented asking how she managed to look 27 after seven years, then it was the engineer she was collaborating with on a project.

“It’s not fair,” she goes on, carefully folding her dress shirts, skirts, and pants. Not looking forward to having to pack up her art studio. All the supplies, artwork, and projects she was working on. “And I feel so awful for her,” her frown made his own appear, “You see the way she looks at him. It’s utter devotion, as though he was a sentient being sent from the heavens. And Edward,” her voice drops to a whisper, “he worships the ground she walks on. And this decision not only punishes her, it punishes him.”

The pair fall into a silence when the front door opens and slams shut. Edward’s lingering scent disapparating, causing Y/n to groan and place her head in her hands. The anger and not caring if her adoptive son heard her rant suddenly vanished. Replaced with shame.

Carlisle sighs, setting down the pile of towels he folded to walk over to her. Gently grabbing her shoulders, he brings Y/n into a comforting embrace, letting his hands fall to her waist, allowing her to sink into his arms with a content hum.

“Listen to me,” she closes her eyes, not wanting to meet his gaze where she’ll find judgement. “I sound ridiculous--and I’m being unfair to him and his feelings on the matter.”

“You care for him dearly,” Carlisle strokes her hair, “he understands that. And I think deep down he knows you’re right, but won’t admit to it because he believes he’s doing the right thing for Bella.” Carlisle leans back to look into her eyes, “Remember, he was turned at a young age--and has never experienced this type of love before. He’s learning all this for the first time.”

“I know,” she mumbles, deflated but understanding. They stayed in their embrace for a few minutes before separating to continue packing up. Edward returned later that night with brighter eyes, indicating he had fed to which resolved some of the tension between the two when they finally sat down to have the conversion they’d been dreading. Him apologizing for uprooting the family suddenly, and for the harm he was to cause Bella. And Y/n apologizing for the words she spoke before he left. They hugged it out, neither able to stay mad at the other, and Edward helped her pack the art room throughout the remainder of the night.

The time away from Forks was odd but somewhat comforting. Carlisle and Y/n decided to spend their time on the island they owned just off the coast of Brazil. Rosalie and Emmett traveled to New York, Alice and Jasper in Mississippi and Edward in Rio de Janeiro. They spoke on the phone frequently, sent letters and postcards, or emailed. Edward would spend a night or two on the island to hunt, Y/n painted canvas after canvas, and Carlisle worked on a medical textbook he was in the process of writing.

“You hear that?” She asked one night when they were cuddling on the couch. A random movie playing on the TV.

“What?”

“It’s quiet,” she whispered, a grin spreading on her lips. “No kids. No animals. No workers. Absolute silence.” Carlisle mirrored her smile.

“You’re right. We haven’t had complete silence in ages.”

“More like eighty years--give or take,” she snorted.

When the shit hit the fan in Italy, Y/n nearly killed Edward herself. Not just for the danger he put himself in but for the whole family. Alice and Rosalie also met her wrath--Rosalie for not explaining clearly to Edward the vision, and Alice for dragging Bella to Italy.

Yeah, none of them wanted the smoke.

The sight of the three siblings sitting on the couch with their heads down and twiddling their thumbs while Y/n paced in front of them while shouting a motherly tangent had Emmett straining to hold back his laughter. Carlisle didn’t dare intervene.

Back in Forks the family settled back into their routines. Carlisle in the hospital and Y/n working on projects. The kids in school and planning for the summer.

Then shit hit the fan again.

This time in the form of a newborn vampire army created by the red-headed lover of the tracker they disposed of the year prior. Victoria. And she was out for revenge against Edward and Bella.

Y/n was not the fighting type, but that didn’t mean she did not know how to throw down. She could get her hands dirty if she desired. Emmett and Jasper taught her the ropes, Edward taught her how to anticipate opponents moves.

“C’mon old man!” she dodged Carlisle’s attack, giggling as she pivoted to kick lightly at his chest. “Don’t be getting sleepy on me now. That’s not like you.” Carlisle smirked, catching her off guard by grabbing her waist and flipping her onto the ground.

“I’d watch who you call old, sweetheart,” he mocked right as Jasper yelled, “Never turn your back on your enemy!”

Let’s just say…they did more than spar that night once the sun went down.

#carlisle cullen fluff #carlisle cullen imagine #carlisle cullen fanfiction #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x you #vampire!reader #twilight fanfiction #twilight masterlist #twilight fluff

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sequinsmile-x · 2 days ago

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Develop

She can’t but smile as she steps back, her eyes fixed on them and the tree lighting them up from behind. Matching smiles on their faces and obvious happiness despite everything they’d survived. She feels a familar pull towards her purse, her camera all but calling out to her, and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip.

“Wait there one second,” she says, digging through her purse where she’d dumped it on the couch, “I’ve got to get a picture of this.”

AKA - Five times Emily takes a picture of Aaron and Jack, and one time she's in it.

-x-

Hi besties <3

This is for the lovely @astridncs, who loves all things Hotchniss, as well as Emily and Jack. I hope you enjoy this, and that it fits what you wanted from your prompt <3

This…got sadder at the start than I intended. But what's new?!

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: none

Words: 7.2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

One

Emily had always loved taking photos.

For her 14th birthday, her parents bought her a Nikon FA. She knew it was mostly her father’s doing, that he paid more attention to her interests than her mother did, and she loved it. She took photos at every given opportunity, forced the few friends to pose for pictures because it was something tangible she’d remember them by when she inevitably had to move and start all over again. She did the same with her parents - would make them stand together so she could capture one moment in time, so she could look at it again when her films were developed, her fingers tracing over her parent's smiles as she pretended that was what their life was like all the time.

Her father’s death just before her 15th birthday only cemented her love of photography. After his funeral, when she’d spent the day standing next to her mother and accepted sympathy from people she’d never met, she’d sat on her bed and looked at pictures of him. She held them so tightly she’d creased them, desperate to hold on to what she had left of her father.

She was determined after that to take photos of everything. The following summer, John and Matthew both teased her whenever she pulled her camera out, all three of them unaware of what lay ahead for them as they posed together in Rome, all skipping school for a day as they explored the city she would one day look back on and not be able to think of its beauty, only the pain it had caused her.

She always made sure she had her camera with her when she went anywhere that wasn’t work. She’d upgraded several times over the years, always keen to make sure she had the best camera she possibly could so she could capture all of the important moments. The weight of it and all it represented is heavy in her purse as she waits outside of Aaron’s apartment, a gift bag stuffed full of toys and games for Jack in her other hand. She knew her boss turned friend would say she’d bought Jack too much, his smile and kind and sad as he insisted she only had to get him one thing, but she hadn’t been able to help herself.

It was his first Christmas without his mother after all. She knew Aaron was struggling, that he was doing his best to make a good Christmas for his son, but Haley’s death was still fresh. A date they’d never forget nestled in amongst his and Jack’s birthdays and the holidays. She hated it for them, hated that they’d always have sadness and loss in the corners of everything they did, so she was trying to help where she could. Last weekend she’d gone tree shopping with them, her hand tight around Jack’s as they chose the perfect one, Aaron just behind them as he watched them closely. She’d left them to decorate it themselves, had smiled and shook her head when Aaron asked if she wanted to stay to help, even though she did, because she knew it was important they figured out some traditions on their own.

She fixes a smile on her face when the door opens, and she feels a familiar ache in her heart when Aaron’s eyes meet hers, a sadness that seems to chase him everywhere these days written across his face before he can hide it from her. Somewhere along the way, she’d started to think of him as one of her closest friends, if not her closest one. If she was honest with herself, she knew it ran deeper than that, that her feelings for him edged a little too close to love. It was easy to ignore when he was like this, and she could convince herself that her desire to look after him and his little boy came just from friendship - not the love that rolled through her gut whenever she looked at them both.

“Hi,” she says, smiling softly as she lifts the gift bag to show him, “I thought I’d bring over Jack’s Christmas gifts before it was too late.”

His eyes go wide when he looks at the bag and he steps back, “You didn’t have to get him so much.”

She chuckles as she walks past him into his apartment, “There’s a couple of things in here for you too if that makes you feel better.”

He shakes his head at her, “Well, we’d better get them under the tree,” he says, “He’s just getting ready for bed - prepare yourself to be talked into reading him a story when he realises you’re here.”

“You know I love that.” She smiles and nods, and her smile gets wider when she looks at the tree. Jack’s involvement in the decorating was obvious - the ornaments were unevenly spaced out, most of them gathered in one place at about eye level for the four-year-old. Emily was used to perfectly decorated trees. Her mother would always have professional decorators and she wasn’t allowed to help even when she was small and desperate to. She loved that Aaron hadn’t rearranged anything, that he’d left it just as Jack had done it, his love for his son as bright and warm as the lights he’d wrapped around the tree.

Aaron clears his throat, “I know it’s not perfect-”

“No,” she says, turning to smile at him as she starts to place her gifts for them under the tree, “It is perfect.”

They stare at each other for a moment, his smile real and soft, and not for the first time she finds herself thinking that maybe, just maybe, he may feel the same way about her as she feels about him. The moment is fleeting, torn open by Jack running down the hallway, almost slipping on the hardwood in his Christmas footie pjyamas.

“Emmy!” She stands up straight and opens her arms to him, smiling as he runs at her, his arms tight around her neck as she lifts him and rests him on her hip.

“Hi kiddo,” she says, stamping a kiss against his cheek, doing it again when he giggles, “I was just telling your Dad about how much I love your tree.”

“It’s pretty!” He exclaims, “Just like you.”

She isn’t sure why she blushes, why the casual compliment from the little boy in her arms has warmth spreading through her as she kisses his kiss cheek again, “Thanks, Jack.”

“It’s true,” he says, furrowing his brows, “Daddy said so too-”

“Okay, buddy,” Aaron says, scooping Jack into his arms, his eyes wide and his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink as he cuts his son off, “Emily said she’d love to read you a story before you go to bed.”

“Wait there one second,” she says, digging through her purse where she’d dumped it on the couch, “I’ve got to get a picture of this.”

“You and your camera,” Aaron says, his tone something devastatingly close to loving, and she playfully narrows her eyes at him.

“Just hold still,” she replies, switching her camera on as she stands just a few feet away from them, “Smile.”

Jack smiles as widely as he can, his arms wrapped tightly around Aaron’s neck. Aaron smiles too, a sadness to it that she knows will be pressed into the picture itself. She looks at the small digital screen as the photo flashes up on it and then shows them as she walks over, smiling as Jack leans into her, his cheek against hers as he tries to get a closer look.

“Can you read me a story now?”

She chuckles and turns her head to kiss his cheek, “Of course,” she replies as she puts the camera back in her bag and then she turns to them, “Shall we let Daddy pick the book this time?”

Jack nods enthusiastically, “Yeah, but you still have to read it. You do the voices better than he does.”

She looks over at Aaron and smiles when their eyes meet, “You heard the boy.”

She gets the picture printed and she puts it in a frame. She wraps it and places it on Aaron’s desk in the New Year, a note stuck to it that she’d one day find in her desk drawer. A desk that used to be his.

This was too cute not to print. It reminded me of all the good that can exist with the bad, and I hope it does the same for you.

Emily x

___

Two

The weight of everything she was yet to say was heavy on her shoulders.

She stays on the outskirts of the celebration, watching her friends - her family - all have fun. Joy and wine flowing amongst them all as they celebrate JJ and Will’s wedding. Somehow, the decision she’d made, the decision to leave even though she’s not entirely sure she ever truly came back, doesn’t make her feel any lighter. It was a relief. She could breathe easier now than she had in weeks, Clyde’s offer as timely as it had been tempting. But she didn’t feel lighter.

She would be leaving so much behind. A life she could have had if she’d just let herself in the rearview mirror as she once again ran away from everything she knew.

She looks over at Aaron and Beth when she hears the other woman’s laugh and it makes her tense, anger and sadness she knows she has no right to feel coursing through her at the sight of them together. Emily could no longer deny that she was in love with Aaron. It was something she’d come to terms with a long time ago and the saddest part, the thing that kept her up at night, was that she knew he loved her too.

There was a moment, nestled in between him starting to move forward after Haley's death and Ian coming back to tear her life apart, when they almost happened. He’d kissed her, the only kiss they had ever shared, and asked her on a date. She’d said yes, not having to think about it for a second, and she’d driven home feeling lighter and happier than she had in years. The next day, Sean McAllister called her and nothing was ever the same.

When she came home, they never spoke about it. She wasn’t ready and he knew that because he knew her, and when she told him one night that she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready she saw his heartbreak. She hated herself for doing it to him, but in the long run it was kinder. After everything he’d been through he deserved someone with less baggage, someone less complicated.

Someone like Beth.

It didn’t make it hurt any less to see them together. Somehow, she thinks it hurts more because it was of her own design. If she’d never told him to move on, if she hadn’t insisted that he did, she knew he wouldn’t have.

She blows out a slow breath and walks over to the bar. She grabs a glass of champagne and turns to watch everyone, her eyes always wandering back to Beth and Aaron. She watches as he holds her close and laughs, the ghost of his palm scalding on her back from when they’d danced as she watches him hold Beth in the same way.

“You should tell him how you feel.”

She jumps as she turns to look at Dave and she chuckles dryly, “I need to get you a bell or something.”

“I’m serious, Bella. If he knew you still felt that way, he’d never let you leave. And he certainly wouldn’t still be with Beth.”

She hums sadly, “That’s why he can’t know.”

Dave shakes his head, “Emily-”

“Dave, please,” she says, shaking her head at him as she cuts him off, “He deserves more than I can give him. And…I’m not sure if this place could ever be home to me now even if he was okay with that,” she reaches over and squeezes his arm, “It’s easier this way.”

“For who?”

She shrugs and laughs humourlessly, “I haven’t quite figured that part out yet.”

Their conversation is cut off as Jack runs towards them, his hand wrapping around hers as he starts to tug her back towards the dance floor, “Dance with me, Emmy.”

She smiles, hoping the little boy can’t see through the sheen of it, that he can’t see her broken heart underneath, “I can never say no to you, sweetheart.”

She picks him up, groaning as she wonders when he got so big, and she throws Aaron a smile as they end up next to him and Beth. She dances with Jack, smiling and listening to everything he tells her, the little boy talking a mile a minute as he thrives on the excitement of the day.

Eventually, she slips into the house for a break, to give herself a moment to gather herself, and she sees her purse where she’d left it on Dave’s kitchen counter. She roots through it and grabs her camera, the weight of it heavier than it ever had been as she decided to take the last set of pictures she’d have as someone who lived here, who was part of the day-to-day lives of the people she thought of as her family.

Going forward, she’d be a visitor, and that hurt more than she ever thought possible.

She walks around Dave’s backyard and she takes pictures of everyone. Of JJ and Will dancing, Henry squished between them. Of Dave and Derek sneaking cigars, a moment they thought they’d get away with captured forever.

She takes a picture of Jack and Aaron, the young boy stood in front of his father, his smile full of gaps from where he’d recently lost a couple of his teeth. Aaron’s hands are on his shoulders as he almost physically holds him in place, Jack’s excitement close to palpable still. He runs away the moment Aaron lets go, calling out for JJ as he asks if he can play with Henry.

Emily smiles at Aaron and presses a couple of buttons on her camera, stepping towards him so she can show him the photo, “It’s a good one.”

He leans in, the smell of his cologne almost overwhelming, tears pressing at the back of her eyes as she swallows thickly, the scent of him something that represented missed opportunities, and the life she could have allowed herself.

“Oh, I love that one,” he says, his breath skipping over her cheek before he pulls back, “When you get a chance can you send it to me? I don’t have many photos of just the two of us.”

“Of course,” she says, smiling tightly as she switches the camera off, “When I get home later I’ll put them all on my computer and email it to you.”

He watches her carefully, and she’s not sure how to feel about how exposed she is, how well he knows her. There was a painful beauty in being known entirely by someone who you couldn’t have.

“Em-”

“Tomorrow,” she promises him, her smile tighter as she reaches out and squeezes his arm, Beth’s curious gaze from a few feet away burning the back of her neck, “I promise.”

He nods, concern sparkling in his eyes like the flecks of gold in his irises that she’d fallen in love with a long time ago, “It’s a date,” he says, repeating the words she’d said just a few hours ago.

“Yeah,” she replies, swallowing thickly, “It’s a date.”

She prints herself a copy of the photo of him and Jack when she’s in London. She keeps it on her mantle amongst other photos of the team despite the ache she feels whenever she sees it. Its presence a penance of some sort for the decisions she’d made that had meant she never got to have Aaron, and the little boy she loved more than life itself, in the way she wanted to.

___

Three

Her doctor was insistent that she get out of her apartment at least once a day. She’s furious about it, mumbling to herself as she walks around her local park, her hands in her pockets as she tries to keep them warm, but she does it anyway. Desperate to make sure she gets back to full strength after everything that had happened.

Peter Lewis had taken so much from her already, he wasn’t going to take her sanity from her too.

In the three months since the car crash, since he’d tortured her for information she’d have died to protect, she’d struggled to leave her apartment. She felt equally trapped and terrified to leave, the outside world as big as it had ever been as she looked over her shoulder for a man that was dead whenever she stepped outside. She was used to being haunted, to being chased by the ghost of a man who had tried to kill her, but she’d forgotten what it felt like when it was fresh. How it felt when her body still ached if she moved a little too quickly when she jumped at an unexpected sound.

She sighs to herself as she checks her watch, and she grumbles when she realises she’s only been walking for 20 minutes. She spots a nearby bench and walks over to sit down. She blows out a slow breath as she closes her eyes, making sure she’s purposeful as she breathes back in, fresh air and feeling she always associated with fall filling her lungs.

“Emily?”

She opens her eyes, her breath turning into a gasp at the unexpected voice, one she hadn’t heard in too long. One she hadn’t expected to hear ever again. She stands up, her eyebrows furrowed as she walks towards him, stopping just short of him just in case he disappears.

“Aaron?” She chokes on a laugh, suddenly aware of her outfit made up of an old pair of leggings and her baggiest sweater covered by her jacket, “What…what are you doing here?”

He smiles at her and nods behind him, “Jack wanted to come and see his grandfather and Jess, so we came back. I’m surprised Dave didn’t say anything, I told him we were in town.”

She rolls her eyes as she thinks of their friend and his recommendation that she walk in this park this weekend, and she makes a mental note to tell him off for meddling later. She

looks in the direction Aaron had nodded towards and she gasps, unsure how the tall gangly pre-teen standing next to Jessica could possibly be the little boy she’d once read bedtime stories to, “Wow, he’s…really grown up.”

“Yeah,” he replies, his smile wistful and sad as she look at her, “He’ll be taller than me I think,” he says, his eyes sparking, “He’s already taller than you.”

She laughs, and for a moment it’s like no time has passed at all. Like they were still almost a decade younger and talking around their feelings for each other, “I’m not that much shorter than you.”

“You are when you aren’t wearing those boots you run around in,” he quips, his smile as gorgeous as she’d always remembered, “I…I heard about everything that happened.”

She chokes on a dry laugh. During the all too brief conversation they’d had when they called to say that Lewis was dead, she’d purposely left out parts of it. Purposely not told him about what had happened to her in the name of protecting him and his son. She didn’t want a prize for it, didn’t want recognition, she just wanted what she’d always wanted - for him and Jack to be safe and happy.

“And how did you hear about that?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at him. He smiles again, something she never remembered him doing quite so much, and he shrugs.

“A little bird told me.”

She hums, “Is this little bird Italian and too nosey for his own good?”

He laughs, “Something like that,” he replies, and his smile fades, “Emily-”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she says, her arms tight over her chest as she tries to hold herself together, “It’s what you and I do for each other,” she smiles sadly, “We keep each other safe.”

Aaron nods, his hands in tight fists by his sides as he tries to stop himself from reaching out for her. He’s nervous. Anxious in a way she hasn’t seen in years. Since he’d stood in the doorway of his apartment one evening what felt like a lifetime ago as he stamped a kiss against her lips, his request that she went on a date with him still echoing around them. It makes hope she hasn’t felt in years spark in her gut, her blood thrumming with it as she thinks that maybe, this time, she’ll allow herself to have what she’d always wanted.

“At least let me buy you dinner?” He says, trying and failing to act casual, and she couldn’t stop the smile that spreads across her face if she wanted to. She presses her lips together and sighs, the reality that he was just visiting stamping out any hope.

“Aaron, I…I can’t-”

“I’m assuming since Dave didn’t tell you I was in town, that he didn’t tell you we’re moving back here.” He says casually, as if it wasn’t life-changing, heart-healing, stuff that once again shifts her world on its axis. Her eyes go wide and he chuckles, nervously scratching the back of his head, “Don’t worry, your job is safe. I’m not coming back to the FBI.”

She shakes her head, not having even thought about work, still overwhelmed by the thought that she was getting him back. She looks over at Jack, smiling as she watches him with Roy and Jessica.

“You’re staying?”

Aaron nods, stepping closer to her, closing the gap they’d both built over the years. He reaches for her hand and squeezes, their fingers pressed together in a silent promise that they’d talk about everything. That they’d finally get it all figured out.

“I’m staying.”

She squeezes his hand tightly, imprints the feeling of being able to do so to memory, the press of his skin against hers something she only had hazy memories of from when he’d visited her in hospital. The dirt from where they’d buried her still clinging to the cuffs of his pants as he sat next to her bed and told her he’d catch Ian and bring her home. It’s how she knows this is real, that she won’t wake up on her couch having fallen asleep.

In her dreams, she’d never been able to recreate his impossible warmth.

“Okay,” she says, smiling when he looks confused, her teeth sinking into the inside of her cheek as she tries to contain her smile at least a little, “I’ll to dinner with you.”

He smiles and pulls her into a hug she gladly returns, her cheek against his chest for a moment before he pulls back. He kisses her cheek, and she turns her head, letting his lips catch the corner of hers before she steps back, a giddiness in her veins she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager and untouched by the pain that love could bring.

“It’s a date,” she says, her smile getting wider as his does at the throwback to a conversation they’d had so long ago.

“It’s a date,” he repeats, looking over his shoulder to his son, “I should get back. He wanted to come over and say hi, but things with Roy are…”

“It’s okay,” she replies, “We have time.”

He nods, “We do,” he squeezes her hand one more time and lets go, “I’ll call you later so we can plan dinner?”

“My number is the same,” she replies, hesitant to turn away, worried he’d disappear if she did, “I’ll speak to you later?”

“Later,” he promises, and he winks at her before he turns away. She watches him go, shock and awe still thrumming under her skin, and she sighs.

She digs her phone out of her pocket and takes a picture of Aaron and Jack talking to each other in the distance, smiling as she realises Aaron was right - that Jack is already almost as tall as him. She sends it to Dave along with a message, and she takes one last look at Aaron and Jack before she turns to head home, content for the first time in a long time to believe that things would work out.

Look who I just so happened to walk into at the park. Your meddling is second to none, old man.

She laughs when she gets a response almost immediately, and she shakes her head at her friend before she puts her phone back in her pocket.

Just make sure you remember to thank me at your wedding.

___

Four

She’s woken up by a soft kiss against her cheek and a gentle hand drawing circles on her back. She groans, pressing her face into her pillow and she grumbles as Aaron laughs at her.

“Wake up birthday girl,” he says, his voice raspy and gorgeous and hers. She opens one eye and frowns at him, the bite to it lost as he smiles at her.

“I haven’t been a girl in a long time, honey,” she says, smiling as he leans in to kiss her. Her smile turns curious as she lays her head back on her pillow, “Have you been eating pancake batter?”

He smiles and encourages her closer, her arms around his waist as she rests her head on his chest, “You’ll have to get out of bed to find out.”

She hums and turns her head to kiss his chest, “In a minute,” she says, smothering a yawn against his t-shirt, the slight spatter of flour standing out against it making her smile, “I want to lay here for a little bit first.”

Aaron kisses the top of her head, “Whatever you want, sweetheart. It’s your birthday.”

There were times when she still couldn’t believe she had this. That she had him. That they had each other. Even now, almost two years since they’d first walked into each other in the park, it still felt surreal sometimes. They’d fallen into the relationship she thinks they should have always had easily. Their first date had lasted almost 48 hours. They’d gone for dinner and then he’d come back to hers and stayed the entire weekend, his smile wry and soft as he explained Jack was with Jessica, and had told him not to come back until Emily was officially his girlfriend.

They’d told each other they loved each other that weekend. Had laid in amongst her soft sheets, hands trailing across skin they’d imagined for years. It was fast, fast in a way she would have been uncomfortable with if it was anyone else, but it felt right.

It felt like everything they’d been walking towards for years.

They lived together in a house they’d chosen between the three of them - Jack just a few paces behind them as he quipped that at least he’d be less likely to walk in on them making out if they had more room than in their old apartment. He was 14 now and she was proud of him, prouder than she thought she had any real right to be. He was Aaron through and through. He was kind and smart, and reserved in a way she found nothing short of adorable, even if he would frown at her if she ever told him that.

She loved them both, and they both loved her. There were times when she wished she’d had more time with them, the reality that if she’d allowed herself to love Aaron years ago they could have had more. That there could be little girls and boys that were half him and half her. Kids she never knew the names or faces of who would visit her dreams. She’d drown in the could have beens sometimes, but then Jack would make her laugh, or she’d snuggle up against Aaron in bed and she’d remember what she did have - a life she’d once convinced herself she didn’t deserve.

“What do you want to do today?” Aaron asks as he trails his fingers up and down her arm. She tilts her head to look at him and stamps her lips against his, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place.

“I just want to hang out with you and Jack,” she says, kissing him again, her smile wide as she pulls back, “And maybe by starting with those pancakes you two are making me.”

He chuckles and kisses her forehead, “Speaking of the pancakes - Jack sent me up here because they are almost ready.”

She smiles widely, “He’s in charge today, huh?”

“He insisted,” Aaron says, kissing her once more before he unwraps himself from around her so they can both get out of bed, “He barely let me help.”

She shrugs his robe over her shoulders and ties it around her waist, grabbing her phone from the nightstand to drop it into the robe's pockets before she walks towards him. She takes a moment to breathe in his scent on the fluffy soft material, humming contentedly when he wraps his arms around her, letting her breathe him in from the source.

“I love you,” she says, suddenly overwhelmed by it as she looks up at him. She runs her fingers through his hair, smiling at the salt and pepper at his temples, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replies, his hand on her lower back as he tugs her closer, “I’m glad we made it here.”

“Me too,” she replies, stamping her lips against his. The kiss is lost to a laugh as Jack yells up the stairs, an irritated tone to his voice that only a teenager could manage.

“Dad, Emily, the pancakes are ready. Stop making out and come downstairs.”

Emily chuckles and she wraps both of her arms around one of Aaron’s as they walk out of their bedroom, “He’s so stern,” she says, smiling up at her boyfriend as they head down the stairs, “I wonder where he gets it from.”

“It’s a mystery,” Aaron deadpans before winking at her as they walk into the kitchen. He smiles as she gasps at the spread of food on the kitchen island, the marble of it almost entirely covered in plates of pancakes, bacon, pastries and fruit. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

She smiles at him, but is pulled into a hug by Jack before she can say anything else, and she hugs him back immediately.

“Happy birthday, Emily.”

“Thanks, kiddo,” she replies, kissing his cheek before she pulls back, smiling at the spread of food in front of her, “You’ve both been busy.”

“We wanted to do all your favourites,” Jack says, “Dad even went out first thing this morning to that bakery you like.”

She turns to her boyfriend, her smile so wide her cheeks ached with it, “That’s all the way across town.”

He shrugs like it doesn’t mean everything that he did that for her, “It’s your birthday.”

She shakes her head lovingly at him and then back at all the food, “Well, we should get started,” she says, digging through the pocket of Aaron’s robe to grab her phone, “But I want a picture of you with you both with it all first.”

Jack groans and rolls his eyes, “But Emily-”

“There’s no point in arguing with her, buddy,” Aaron says, smiling as he wraps his arm around his son’s shoulders, “The sooner we let her take the photo, the sooner we can eat.”

Jack sighs but nods in agreement, a smile painted across his face as Emily takes the picture. She sends it to the BAU group chat, knowing they’d get a kick out of seeing Aaron so casual, and then she slips her phone back into her pocket.

She had breakfast with her boys to enjoy.

___

Five

It had been, without a doubt, the happiest day of her life.

She sighs contently as she sits down, looking around the backyard she’d once broken her own heart in at JJ’s wedding. Emily wished she could go back and tell herself that it would all work out in the end, that she’d take the time she needed to heal, that she’d almost forget this was something she’d ever wanted, but that she’d eventually get it all.

She smiles as her husband walks towards her, his bowtie he’d insisted on how undone and hanging loose around his unbuttoned collar. He sits next to her and she kisses him as soon as he’s close enough, unable to get enough of him today of all days.

“Hey handsome,” she murmurs against his lips, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place.

“Hi,” he replies, smiling so widely her lips only catch the corners of his, “How are you feeling?”

She hums and rests her head on his shoulder, looking back out at their guests, members of the BAU - past and present - all dancing and laughing together, “I’m perfect.”

He chuckles and kisses her cheeks, “I’ve been telling you that for years. Now you believe me.”

She rolls her eyes at him, “You’re cheesy.”

“I’m allowed to be on our wedding day.”

She smiles, completely unable to stop herself, and she leans in to kiss him again, “Okay, I’ll let it go today,” she hums contentedly against his lips, “Today was…”

She drifts off, entirely unsure how to put it into words, how to explain even after all this time how she felt about him. But he knows, because of course he does, and he simply reaches for her hand, his fingers tangled through hers as he lifts their joint hands to kiss her knuckles.

“I know, baby,” he says, “I know.”

“I…” she clears her throat, not wanting to cry, again, today, “I’m so glad we made it here.”

Aaron wraps his arm around her shoulders and holds her close, his lips against her forehead as he presses love and comfort in equal measure against her skin, “Me too, sweetheart. I never doubted we would.”

She scoffs as she pulls back to look at him, her eyebrow raised and her eyes full of love and mirth, “Really? Even when we lived on different continents, were in relationships with other people and you were in hiding?”

He shrugs, his smile soft and entirely hers, a spark in his eyes she wouldn’t have thought he was capable of when they first met, “Even then.”

She rolls her eyes at him and captures his chin in her hand, tugging him in for a kiss, “You’re a ridiculous man, Aaron Hotchner,” she kisses him again, “But you’re my ridiculous man.”

“Your’s forever,” he says, rubbing his nose against hers, and she nods, her lungs stuffed full of love for him and their life together.

“Mine forever.”

They sit there for a moment, their foreheads pressed together as they soak each other in, but they are interrupted by a loud laugh from JJ and Penelope reminding them that they aren’t alone.

“Later?” Aaron says, and she nods, her fingers tangled around his loose bow tie.

“Later,” she confirms, and she smiles at him, “I need to get a picture of you and Jack before you lose any more of your tux, ” she says tugging at the bow tie again, her smile getting wider at his loving eye roll.

“I knew you’d say that,” he says, standing up and beckoning over his son. Jack runs over immediately, none of the usual arguing about taking a picture anywhere to be found, and the matching mischievous smiles on his and Aaron’s faces make her narrow her eyes.

“What are you two up to?”

“Nothing, sweetheart,” Aaron says, his hands in his pockets as he stands next to Jack, “Take your photo.”

She hums, not believing him for a second, but she picks her phone up from the table regardless, her focus briefly on it as she opens up the camera app. When she looks back up at them she laughs loudly, shaking her head at the sight of them with their shirts now unbuttoned. They were each wearing a t-shirt with a different photo print screened on it - Jack’s with the one she’d taken of them in front of the Christmas tree years ago, and Aaron’s with the one from JJ’s wedding in this very place. She shakes her head as she stands up, already taking photos of them, wanting as many of this moment as she could possibly have.

“You two are lucky I love you,” she says, pretending to grumble in a way they all know is fake.

“We really are, sweetheart,” Aaron says, winking at her when Jack groans with embarrassed disgust, “We really are.” ___

+ One

She makes sure she has her phone with her several times before they leave the house. She simply glares at her husband when he smiles at her as he tells her she’s more likely to leave it behind if she keeps taking it out of her purse to check it is there. He kisses her in response, his lips against her cheek and then her lips as he tells her it would be fine, that she had her phone and he had his, and that he had the mobile battery pack just in case she took enough photos she ran out of battery.

She doesn’t tell him that she saw him making sure he had enough storage on his phone last night, doesn’t remind him that they’d sat up in bed, her cheek against his shoulder as they scrolled through all the photos of Jack in his favourites folder. She simply lets him make gentle fun of her, well aware that focusing on lovingly teasing his wife was a way of distracting him from what was happening today, another milestone in Jack’s life that seemed to be slipping through their fingers.

It was, after all, his son’s high school graduation.

Jack had looked achingly grown up when he’d left the house that morning. He’d asked if he could head there with his friends, if they could meet him there and be on their best behaviour, and neither one of them had the heart to say no. Emily kept shifting between being sad about the boy she loved as her own becoming a man, and worrying about her husband, the same melancholy in his smile that he’d have every time he was reminded Jack was growing up.

Every time he was reminded of all the things that Haley missed out on.

Even now, she knew that his guilt lingered. That he could never entirely shake off the thought that he’d been responsible for Haley’s head and for costing his son his mother. Emily had spent years doing everything she could assuring him that it wasn’t the case, that he’d done what Haley had asked - that he’d raised their son with love and joy. Sometimes, all she could do was hold him close, hug his head to her chest and remind him of everything he did have. Of the life they’d built together for them and Jack, and the promises he’d kept to help make that happen.

She squeezes his hand when they arrive at the ceremony, and she throws him a wink when he smiles down at her.

“You ready?” She asks, and he blows out a shaky breath, leaning down to kiss her cheek as they look for their seats. She chuckles and squeezes his hand, throwing a look at Jack in his seat amongst all the other graduates, her smile only getting wider when he shakes his head at them, “I think PDA counts as not being on our best behaviour.”

Aaron laughs and waves at his son, his smile getting wider when Jack shakes his head, the smile on his face letting them both know he wasn’t actually embarrassed by them. He finds their seats, smiling as Jessica waves them over to their spot. “We should sit down.”

She keeps both of her hands wrapped around Aaron’s throughout the ceremony, only disconnecting one of them from him when it’s Jack’s turn to walk across the stage so she can take photos on her phone. When they find him afterwards, she stands back as Aaron pulls Jack into a hug, one he returns gratefully, and she sneaks a few photos of that moment too, knowing she’d want to return to it again and again on the bad days.

“Okay,” she says, getting their attention and making her look at them. She smiles when Jack rolls his eyes, “Just play ball for a few seconds and then I’ll stop.”

Jack chuckles and rolls his eyes again, a trait Aaron always liked to say he’d picked up from her, “Mom, give the phone to Aunt Jess, you need to be in the picture.”

It had been a few years since he’d started to call her mom. Since Emily had given way to the name she never thought she’d get to have. It had happened overnight, one day he called her the name he always had and the next she was his mom. Aaron had told her afterwards that Jack had been toying with the idea for a long time, that he’d been unsure how to broach it because he didn’t want to upset anyone. In the end, Roy’s passing had been the last push he’d needed, the death of his grandfather - and the bitterness towards Aaron that had died with him - letting Jack finally do what he’d wanted to do for years.

He always said he was lucky enough to have two moms - one who’d loved him when he was small, and one who loved him now, who had helped shape him into the man he was becoming.

Emily smiles and turns to Jess, unsurprised to find her already holding out her hand for her phone, “Thanks.”

She stands in between Jack and Aaron, both of them towering over her, and she wraps her arms around them both.

“Now, I know you’re not used to being on this side of the camera,” Aaron jokes, his smile only getting wider when she pinches his side, “So make sure you smile.”

She shakes her head as Jack laughs from her other side, and she looks at the camera, smiling as Aaron squeezes her waist, his thumb tracing back and forth over her hip. A small show of his love for her, a much needed reminder of everything she had now, of the fact it was real, as she stood between her husband and her son.

“Okay,” Jess says, holding up Emily’s phone to take the picture, “Smile.”

She smiles, because what else could she do when she was this happy.

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