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bunnys-kisses · 1 month ago

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kink-o-ween - day three

lance stroll - toys

cw: smut/pwp, mutual masturbation, sex toys, teasing/dirty talk, lance in love, (slight) jealousy

a/n: come as you are a real shop in toronto, and they're a co-op and very cool! so if you're in the canadian region and want some place to buy special toys. i'd suggest checking them out!

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

you enjoyed montreal, since you started seeing lance it had become a second city in the way. you obviously knew that it wasn't covered in snow all year, but to see the city in a sweltering heat of late summer was something else. but it was nice, being in the house that lance owned to spend the last days of summer break together.

but you knew that in the final days before the next leg of races, your boyfriend had a surprise for you. it came in a little pink box, unmarked of any logos, but what was inside sure excited you.

"i think most people just have sex." you remarked as you looked to your boyfriend. you were kneeling on the bed you shared all summer with a toy by your knees. it wasn't anything too special, even though the name of it made your ears hot. g-spot vibrator. this was supposed to hit in all the right places.

"i wanted yo try something different." he chuckled as he laid out on the foot of the bed, propped up on his elbow on his side. he was in loose sweatpants and a t-shirt from some promotion, "came all the way from toronto. from one of the best sex shops in the city." he chuckled. as if there weren't a million stores on st. catherines' alone.

come as you are was the name of the place. they were even nice enough to throw in information about how to use the toy and how to clean it. they seemed like nice people there.

"plus, i'm going to be gone soon and i don't need you getting cramps in your wrists from missing me too much." he chuckled, those dark eyes lingered on you barely clothed body.

nothing but panties and a shirt that made his logo stretch across your pretty titties. you looked at him and took the toy off the bed, "i guess i should get you something, so you don't pull something from jerking off so much during off time."

lance sat up and got his shirt off, "just fill a photo album of pretty pictures of you, babe. and i'll be set for the rest of the season." the toy laid between you two as you got undressed.

it felt weird to lie back with your legs spread out, practically in your boyfriend's lap with a pink silicon toy in your hand. you made eye contact with him before you slowly rubbed the toy up against your pussy. when you managed to get it on you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

lance was laid back at the foot of the bed his legs on either side of yours as he stroked his hard cock. this was a sight to see. his precious girlfriend, the one who he adored. he couldn't stop talking about you most of the time, now you were sinking a pretty toy into your sweet pussy.

while this wasn't traditional sex, it felt really good. your cheeks heated up as you moved the toy in and out of you. the vibrations made you nipples hard which only made lance's mouth water.

"how does it feel?" he asked as he continued to stroke his cock, "you look so good." he chuckled, "i hope he takes care of you while i'm gone. keeps you nice and busy while i'm winning for us."

you smiled a little, hiding your face with your other arm for a moment, "it feels good. i haven't had a sex toy since we started dating." you had fond memories of a lovely rabbit toy that you bought cheap in college. you peeked under your arm and said, "you became my favourite toy after that."

he chuckled before he spat in his hand and continued to stroke his cock. well, weren't you the romantic. he asked, "ah, so i guess i should toss it out then. don't want any competition."

you smiled at him before you let out another moan. you curled into yourself a little as you continued to work the toy against your g-spot. it made your toys curl. you replied, "no, no. sadly, as lovely as this toy is. i can't spend late nights talking to it, or have it cuddle me. it's a fat cry from you."

he leaned a little further back, bracing himself with his other hand while he pleasured himself. you looked beautiful. how your lips moved when the toy hit the right spot, how you jolted when you pulled it out and rubbed it against your clit. it was cute almost seeing you kick out your legs from the vibrations against your clit.

you could only put it on par with the time lance blew on your achy clit after what felt like hours of over-stimulation. it was the only time you almost kicked your boyfriend.

the two of you continued to pleasure yourselves. the toy felt really good, it was good quality that made you toys curl. you didn't want to think about the cost of it. lance liked to spend his money on you, something that made you frown. you didn't want to be the girlfriend who mooched off her successful man. but that was neither here nor there as you rubbed the toy up against your clit once more. stimulating and making your body grow more tense.

you could feel lance's hungry eyes on you as you dragged the toy back inside of you. allowing it to pleasure you in other ways. you moaned, "fuck, lance."

he chuckled softly as he felt the sweat on his neck from his own motions, "that's what you better say when you're playing with yourself." his voice was tinged with a little envy. but you only blushed more, you were the last person that would ever cheat. you were such the perfect girlfriend that lance could only get jealous of silicon and wiring.

you smiled at him, "don't worry, you'll both be called lance." you arched your back a little at the feeling. the pleasure was deep in your gut and moving through your blood. it left you feeling needy all over and you continued to pleasure yourself.

"you're such a-" he beamed at you.

you replied, "whatever you may call me, i'm still yours. through and through. and no little toy could ever prevent me from loving you. when you come back home, he'll be put back in the drawer. because i'll be too busy having the real thing." you then let out a sweet moan which only enticed your boyfriend more.

that was what he liked to hear. your love for him. it was something he yearned for at all times. he wanted to feel his beloved in every way he could have you. if he didn't give you the love and appreciation you deserved then he'd be a fool like no other. why fuck up perfection.

he held onto his cock a little tighter, pre-cum drooled all over his fist and he continued to masturbate in front of you. he drank in the sight of you like fine wine. you made his cock leaky and painfully hard, the sight of you pleasuring yourself.

"i love you." he said.

"i love you too." you giggled, your legs tensed up as you felt pleasure start to really circulate through you. you could feel your boyfriend's hungry gaze across your body. you wanted to shy away for a moment, but the intensity of his gaze on you made you excited.

you liked how lance looked at you, you didn't often feel like a goddess for worship (why would you?), but in the quietness of alone time with your boyfriend. you felt as beautiful as marble statues in a museum. a softness that could only be created with such delicate craftsmanship.

"you're beautiful." he said, "you better send me photos every day. doesn't even have to be of you naked. i just want to see you. you're my good luck charm." he attributed his better performance on the track to you being around him. when you hugged him and kissed him, you got your good luck all over him. you found it endearing, just like many other parts of him.

you tensed up a little more and felt yourself reach the peak of your climax. there was something different about getting to that high on your own. while lance did amazing work when he pleasured you. you knew your body better than he could so there climax was different. you arched your back a little and let out a sweet moan.

it only spurred your boyfriend to keep pleasuring himself as you rode out your orgasmic high. the sight of you was hot and left himself needy. he groaned at the sight of you climaxing. and he soon followed. he came all over his fist, cum dripping down his hand as he felt the tension course through him. when he finally relaxed and shakily exhaled.

"holy shit." he panted.

you chuckled and took the toy out of you. and laid there out on the bed. you drifted off for a moment and heard the tap run in the bathroom. but it wasn't long before you felt movement on the bed and when you opened your eyes, you were met with your boyfriend's big brown eyes looking down at you. he tossed the toy off the bed to be cleaned later.

"hey!" you said as he crowded your space.

"now." your boyfriend said as he kissed at your jaw, "let's see if i can one-up that toy." he rubbed his hardened cock up against your thigh, "don't want to get replaced."

you kissed him on the lips and said, "hmm, i don't know. it really did feel nice against my g-spot."

he licked his lips, "well then." he got between your legs and threw your ankles to your head, exposing your soaked cunt to him. he kissed at your slit and said, "i guess i better start now." <3

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monstersinthecosmos · 3 months ago

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Hiiiii!!!!😁

For your ask game!

I would love to know anything you are willing to share about your number 1, the mael fic!

dfasjkl I'm working on a fic about the year Marius was held captive and like how he copes with the loss of his freedom and confronts his upbringing and the empty space of his mother :)

Since the fic takes place almost entirely inside his room I'm using a lot of memories/dreams to fill the space, his memory being a window to the world he's lost, something he can only think about and not change!

So anyway here's a memory he's having about a time he slipped and busted his chin open:

Sabina leaned back into the water, continued to soak as Junia took the towel, knelt at Marius’s side, inspected the cut on his chin. She pet his hair back and kissed him on the forehead and helped him up, lead him out of the room. And no scolding him for crying. No telling him not to act like a girl. Just the quiet understanding. She held his hand as someone sutured it closed, and rubbed his back as he hiccuped through the comedown. He sat on her lap for a long time afterwards, still sniffling here and there, comforted by the smell of lavender in her hair. His teeth had hurt for days after that, and it took months for the tinge of rust to come out of the grout. And his headaches in the present are enough to permeate the half-there dreamspace of memory. Splitting his chin open hadn’t caused headaches like this, only just made it hard to eat for a few days. Even at five years of age he’d been afraid to complain about it, anyway, too embarrassed by the way he’d cried, and too shamed that Junia had been right. But now, in hazy half-sleep, his memory of it is changed. The heat of his bed, cocooned in the furs, blisters around him, and he remembers the warm humid feeling of snuggling up to Junia. In the fog, he mistakes the sweet smell of the straw roof for Junia’s perfume. Even the crackling sound from the fire reminds him of his father’s kitchen, and how Junia had brought him there to find the slave who could do sutures. It was their cook, Leno, who laughed as he sat Marius on the chopping block and said he’d learned to cut meat the hard way. Junia used to make him feel thirsty sometimes. A tidy intellectual piece of him had always know that she’d nursed him as an infant, even though he doesn’t remember it, and if he took too long to ween, no one had ever teased him about it. He imagines it wouldn’t be unheard of, with his real mother dead. He’s always wondered if it takes those types of babies longer. But he knows about it, and he knows that sometimes he found himself staring at her breasts, trying to picture it. Those crying jags were fewer as he grew up. Less cuddling to comfort him, but she always held him when he needed someone. He remembers sharing the bed with her, with his chin freshly stitched closed, the way it hurt when he moved his head, but he nuzzled into her belly anyway. Smelled her there. Thirsted, as if that was the thing that would really make it better. In the half-sleep he imagines her here, imagines drinking from her. Sugary even though his lips catch the hint of salt from her skin. The blood in his body creeps downward, heating his belly. It aches in his head like he’s stood up too fast, even though he’s still curled in the blankets. He opens his eyes, as the pain throbs around the wound, and he has one of those moments again. In the soft darkness, the fire gone out but a little bit of afternoon light sneaking in through the slats of the tiny window. It takes him a moment to remember where he is, and the reality sets into place the way the headache does.

#stuff i wrote #UNTITLED MAEL FIC i cant decide #i might call it-#saw colours dance beyond the shoals #but thats kind of a mouthfull i cant decide yet #marius de romanus

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

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Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 11

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - references to verbal abuse and a neglectful mother.

Author’s note: After an accidental one month hiatus, I’m back! I’m nervous about posting this because I haven’t updated December Magic since I saw WW84. As you may have noticed, I have rebranded this fic and the name is now called ‘Sugar and Spice’! There is a slight time jump in this chapter, and it’s just a short one as I ween back into it, but I realised I was struggling so much continuing this fic after seeing WW84 because it just didn’t feel like the Max Lord we ended up with was anything like the Max Lord in this fic. This chapter is my attempt to make amends and draw a link between Sugar and Spice and WW84.

While I’m here I want to give a shout out to my new on-going Max Lord series ‘I Believe In Love’, which you can read here. I Believe In Love is like my baby and I am so so proud of it thus far. Anyways, enjoy chapter 11 of December Magic!

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER ELEVEN - NEXT

He hadn’t come home for Christmas. He hadn’t come home for two months. It was fine at first. He called you as soon as he reached London, just like he promised. He expressed to you how busy he was with work commitments and how difficult it was for him to cope with the timezones. The distance between the UK and USA was devastating. Your hour long phone calls gradually became more spread out and only lasted a few minutes, and honestly? It broke your heart. There you were; living in Lord Manor, and Maxwell had kept his word: “you want for nothing”. You had everything. His weighty black AMEX card, a house staff such as a butler and a chef and your own personal driver to take you wherever you wished to go. Any material possessions you wished for… they were yours. You weren’t even working for the privilege or the money. Max was far away and yet, he made sure you still had a home and a life, and he made sure that you were safe.

But there was still an extreme void in your heart. You were missing Maxwell. You’d try calling him but there was always a dead line. Not even Raquel would answer. You felt like you were drifting apart and your whole body ached with dread as you wondered if Max had forgotten about you. You’d kept in contact with Maxwell’s three assistants at Black Gold and they had no information on the work commitments that Max was supposedly seeing too. The romance you had shared during December may have been a whirlwind, but you knew him better than any other person on the planet and you felt like he was deliberately avoiding you.

There was something not right.

***

“Kitty!” Maxwell cried, his cheeks burning red and his eyes flicking with bewilderment as the child was thrust into his arms. A ghost from his past. Kitty was an ex lover of Maxwell’s, and honestly one of many. He hadn’t thought about her in years.

“I’ve brought him up for the past six years, he’s your problem now!” Kitty spat, an evil smirk crossing her lips. “I see you on the television with all your fame and fortune, if you don’t want him then the least you can do is pay a nanny to watch him. I have nothing Max. A shitty little apartment in the east of London. I’m working for a modelling internship but it’s hard to find luck when I’ve got a six year old kid dragging my heels behind.”

“Dragging your heels?” Maxwell repeated, furiosity burning his lungs. “He’s your son for Christ sake! How can you say that? Right in front of him!”

Maxwell turned back to the child who was standing as still as ever in the centre of the hotel room, nervously looking at his feet. Everytime Kitty raised her voice, the boy winced, and it crushed Max. This situation was all too familiar to him.

“He’s your son too!” Kitty glared, her face just as cold as her heart. “I want nothing to do with him. Goodbye.” Kitty said, her voice venomous, before leaving the hotel room and slamming the door behind her.

Maxwell’s knees felt weak and wobbly and he stumbled to his bed, sinking down with an exasperated sigh. Max’s hands cradled his own face and he blinked away unshed tears before sitting back up and looking at the six year old boy. The boy was silent, and his dark eyes matched the sadness of his father’s. How could this have happened?

Maxwell Lord had a son.

Max didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say? He remembered doing work in London back in 1977; it was the start of his big break, and his bachelor persona hadn’t changed much since then. When Kitty found out Maxwell was back in London, she used it as her one final chance to track him down. Turns out, a big name CEO such as Max Lord was hard to get a hold of, especially when he lived on the other side of the world. Kitty never had pure intentions. Of course the pregnancy was unplanned and the sad reality was, Alistair was unwanted by his mother. Kitty was an aspiring model, fueled by ambition and goal, much like Maxwell. She didn’t have a single maternal instinct in her. Only there was a significant difference between Alistair’s parents. Whilst Kitty cared so little about her son, Maxwell knew that from this day forward, Alistair would be his top priority. He would never let his job intervene with his son. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes his own parents did.

Maxwell never thought about children, or considered bringing any into the world. He told himself he’d never want to be a father. He had such a terrible upbringing himself and his mother was wicked, he’d be too afraid. He’d never want to hurt or disappoint a potential child of his the way his own parents had hurt and disappointed him. But when he looked into his son’s eyes he felt nothing but determination. He’d been an absent father and that was not okay. Max just wished he’d known about his son before now. But it’s not like he could turn back time. Max knew he had to make amends and he knew he had to do it now.

Maxwell opened his arms and held Alistair’s hands, bringing him close and holding him tight against his chest. “My son,” he whispered, trying to refrain from crying. “I love you so much. I know you don’t know me, but you will, and I will spend the rest of my life making you proud. You are my everything.”

“You saved me daddy,” Alistair whimpered, tears spilling and dampening his father’s pinstripe shirt. “Thank you.”

***

You waited every day for Maxwell to return, but you never expected him. You were laying on the living room sofa, a blanket wrapped around you, half asleep as the muse from the television drowned out your thoughts. When you heard the lock on the front door click open, you thought you were dreaming. There was no way. No way. Footsteps. Hell, there was more chance of an intruder than it was Max. You rubbed your eyes and cautiously rose to your feet.

Your heart sank when he entered the room. It was him. He was home. Tears filled your eyes and you couldn’t hide the excited grin that painted your lips. “Oh my god Max!” you squealed, running up to him. He looked tired, but he was smiling too. You were inclined to run into his arms, but your focus on his face left you without realizing the small sleeping child he was carrying in his arms.

You blinked in confusion, your gaze flicking between Maxwell and the boy. “This is Alistair, my son.” Maxwell informed you, his voice hoarse and low. At the mention of his name Alistair stirred in his sleep and Maxwell immediately, on instinct, shushed him.

“You-what?” You were speechless. You knew something was wrong the second Max had distanced himself. The second the phone calls had stopped and he hadn’t come home. You knew something was wrong when his assistants said his work schedule was clear. But never in a million years did you expect your sugar daddy to come home with a son.

“I didn’t know,” Max whispered in avoidance to wake up Alistair. “It’s a long story but I promise I’ll tell you everything. I’m sorry I didn’t come home for Christmas like I promised. I’m so sorry baby. I’ll make up for it.”

You couldn’t even gather words. You swallowed the hard lump in your throat and contemplated everything. You sighed. You believed Max - how could you not? Of course, you were very interested in learning all about his secret son but you supposed that didn’t matter too much right now. All that mattered is that Max was home, and safe. You smiled and rested your hand on Alistair’s forehead, brushing his straight black hair out of his face. Alistair smiled sleepily under your touch. Max’s cheeks grew warm with admiration as you comforted his son. It meant a lot to him that you took a liking to Alistair and that you accepted the fact Alistair was in his life now, and nothing would change that.

After all, Max Lord was still hopelessly devoted and in love with you.

“Come on,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to cup Maxwell’s face. You brushed your thumb over the height of his cheekbone and Max found himself subconsciously leaning into your touch. “Let’s take him to bed and go to bed ourselves. We clearly have a lot to catch up on.”

Max nodded his head in affirmation and you followed him upstairs. He took Alistair to a guest bedroom and gently tucked him under the blankets, pressing a caring kiss into his son’s forehead before turning back to you. As you watched his gentle actions, it was like you were witnessing a whole new side to Maxwell. And it was beautiful.

Sugar and Spice taglist: @100layersofdaddyissues @mrschiltoncat @honeymandos @thisisthe-wayson @this-cat-is-dea @blonde2bomshell @maiyaaaa0130 @autumnleaves1991-blog @justanotherblonde23 @softly-sad @laaadygisbooornex3 @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @drinkingwhileblogging @kesskirata @honestlystop

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #max lord #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #ww84 #max lord series #maxwell lord series

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weasleypogues · 4 years ago

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caught (j.b.r)

so thankfully someone pointed out to me that i completely misread a request and mixed it up so here is a sistermaybank x john b!! im so sorry to whoever requested it but i hope u enjoy this one!!

i kinda got a little carried away and made this very long so bear with me

master list.

having jj maybank as your older brother came with everything you would expect. you did crazy shit with no repercussions or care. but there were other times where you would balance each other out because, at one point, someone had to use their senses and be the rational sibling. you two shared so much in your life that it was difficult to even think of doing things without him by your side.

however, one of those things you did without him was to date his best friend, john b. but hey, it’s not like you and john b weren’t friends initially either. when jj and john b first became friends, you weened yourself right in like the annoying little sister because you admired your brother and were basically attached at the hip. you liked the idea of having your own personal bodyguards but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t rock someone’s shit when you got the chance. but most of the time you preferred love not war, unlike jj.

when you and john b first got together, it felt like walking on eggshells. you’d tread lightly and watch your words carefully around jj and the rest of the pogues. yes, you trusted kie and pope with your lives, but it wasn’t fair to make them carry around that secret for the sake of your relationship. you weren’t sure why you kept it a secret from jj. i mean if he chose john b to be his best friend, that had to mean that jj found john b’s qualities and loyalty worthwhile and admirable.

what you wouldn’t admit to john b, and barely wanted to admit to yourself was a different reason to not tell jj. because jj wasn’t the only person you were keeping this a secret from. you wouldn’t dare tell your father that you were dating someone. because someway, somehow, he would make that the reason to stir the pot to you, jj, or both. you would hate yourself if you were the reason for another bruise on your or jj’s body. so, altogether you decided it was best to keep it a secret to prevent anyone from getting hurt.

it was a saturday morning when you woke up to a text from john b, you smiled to yourself at the mere thought of him. meet me at the chateau in an hour. you quickly hopped out of bed and went to pack a bag for the day. as you weaved through empty beer bottles and random trash on the floor, you tiptoed to not wake your father up. you peaked quietly into jj’s room and saw he was passed out as well, taking a mental note to leave him a post-it or send him a text to wake up to to let him know you were going to be gone when he woke up.

after brushing your teeth and throwing on a bathing suit and a pair of shorts, all you needed was your phone and a water bottle from the fridge. treading lightly on the creaky floors, you began to walk towards the kitchen until you heard footsteps from behind you. your hands got sweaty and your heart sunk into your stomach.

“where you goin’ this early in the morning?” you father said to you in a husky and slurred voice.

“just out with a friend on their boat for the day.” you responded with a slight smile to play it nonchalantly. if your father saw anything but a content look on your face, you knew he would pick apart your emotions and facial expression if you didn’t act like everything was a-okay.

“who’s this friend?” your father interrogated, with an unpleased look on his face. you soon came to realize that no matter how normal you acted, he would still be the same old jerk no matter what. “is it a friend that left this in your room a couple of days ago? because i sure as hell know this don’t belong to you.”

you saw his hand lift up a dirty and slightly faded black bandana, wrapped around his knuckles. fuck.

“oh my friend gave it to me one day actually-” you responded quickly and nervously. it felt like your body went numb because you knew that there was no way in hell that this situation would end well.

“don’t lie to me, (y/n)!” your father yelled, with a look on his face that you knew too well but it would still leave you frozen in fear. it seemed a lot of the time that jj was the one to fight back because jj could take punches here and there and put on a front for everybody. you weren’t gifted with easily putting on a facade like he was so you would try your absolute hardest to extend the argument long enough that eventually your father would just knock out from the alcohol and that would be the end of it.

“what the hell is going on?” jj walked out of his room with a tank top and shorts on, rubbing his eyes to get adjusted to the extreme sunlight in the living room.

“is this yours, boy?!” your father raised the bandana higher and his face got redder as his eyes pierced themselves into jj’s path. jj quickly shook his head. he has no idea why his father brought this up to him but jj had no other reason to lie about it not being john b’s because yet again, no one knew of what was happening between you and john b.

“it’s john b’s.” jj answered, almost like a cadet to a colonel, following orders and meaning no disprespect. although jj wanted to disrespect his father to the end of the world for everything he put you two through. however, once those words came out of jj’s mouth you knew everything from here on out would be completely downhill.

“it was in your sisters room actually.” you didn’t dare look around at jj. you could only handle one glare at a time from this family. although, you were surprised to hear jj back you up.

“dad, she can do what she wants.” jj responded, with no emotion to not set him off. however, whatever anyone responded with was going to stir the pot.

“don’t talk back to me, you little shit!” you father huskily shouted at your brother. he took a couple steps towards jj and you knew this was going to get physical. you allowed the tears to well up in your eyes for the millionth time if your life because of him.

you quickly whipped around and your blurry vision made it hard to see who was throwing what punches. it wasn’t until one loud thud to the ground was when you realize that jj had knocked your father out and looked up at you, blood dripping from his lip and nose.

“let’s get out of here.” jj blankly stated and you nodded quickly as you ran to get your backpack and phone and basically booked it, trailing behind jj’s footsteps. you figured that his feet were taking him to the exact place that john b had told you to meet him: the chateau. you weren’t sure if this was the best idea or the worst. jj used the chateau as his safe space after things would get bad with your dad but you weren’t sure if that was the case this time or he was on a mission to find out why john b’s bandana was found in your room.

you anxiously picked at your cuticles with your hands to your sides, nervous to hear the first word that would be spoken between you two. but you knew it had to come eventually but you didn’t know if you had the guts to be the first one.

“explain to me why the bandana was in your room.” jj asked, his voice softer than you expected but when you looked slightly up at him, his jaw was clenched and his eyes stayed darted in front of him as you two continued to walk.

“i don’t know how you want me to answer this.” you responded, with your head slightly down because if jj looked over at you, you couldn’t look him in the eyes after he took a beating because your dad decided to snoop in your room.

you weren’t sure how long you were walking and how long the pauses were in between each thing spoken but you ended up at john b’s house in no time. your eyes glanced up as you saw your boyfriend hop down his front steps and give you two a smile before his faced dropped seeing 1. your terrified face, 2. jj’s bruised and bloody face, and 3. the fact that he only invited his girlfriend over so why was his best friend here looking like he was going to rock his shit?

“uhh, hey guys...” john b greeted, unsure how to approach the situation. when his eyes flickered to yours for a split second, you just gave him wide eyes back because you too were unsure about how to even begin.

“are you dating my fucking sister?” jj asked, shoving john b slightly. john b stumbled behind as his jaw slightly dropped and he put his hands up in defense. this was your cue to go and try to break it up.

“no man! i mean yes but like we can explain!” john b responded, seemingly coming up with the worst responses ever when confronted with something like this. you weened your way to stand in between them.

“yes jj, we are dating! can you let us explain?” you practically yelled because you knew if you spoke in a normal tone, that anything you say would not get through to him because of the blood pounding in his ears from adrenaline. and because he would probably ignore you regardless.

“no! there’s nothing to explain. this is clearly a secret you two fucking kept from me for how long? a month? two months? more? jesus christ if it’s any more i’m punching your teeth in, john b.” jj exclaimed, as his jaw clenched even harder and the veins on his forhead became more prominent.

“just two months! okay?! can we all calm down and talk about this like regular people?” you slightly pushed jj, not letting him get any closer to john b. you were always afraid of this outcome but you never pictured it being like this. “you can’t just go around hitting people when things don’t go your way! just pull a ‘dad’ while your at it and beat the shit out of your best friend.”

“don’t bring dad into this (y/n).” jj said through clenched teeth, although his face softened at the idea of you comparing him to your father. it was jj’s fear to resemble any quality that your father had and to hear that come out of his little sisters mouth hurt him.

“look i didn’t mean it like you were dad. but clearly it doesn’t work when you both think violence is the answer. so can we just sit down and we’ll explain everything to you?” you asked, your voice softening as you threw your hands to the side in defeat. jj took a deep breath in before flickering his eyes between you and john b. he just nodded in silence and he lead the way to john b’s front porch and sat on the couch. jj simply waved his hand in the air, prompting you two to explain.

you took a deep breath and let everything spill. you and john b had kept the secret from him because you were scared of how he was going to react. you two basically kept it a secret from everyone to spare them any stress. and you spilled to the both of them that you were keeping it a major secret because if somehow, someway, word got back to your father that you were dating someone, he would lose his shit.

“look, me and john b didn’t plan for this to be the way you found out. and i didn’t plan for this to be the way that dad found out. and if i could go back i’d tell you immediately to save you from what happened back there. but i can’t. just know that i love you and john b. you’re my brother for fuck’s sake. your feelings matter the world to me but i also wanted to take myself into perspective and make myself happy. we aren’t doing this to punish you whatsoever, i did it because i can’t see myself dating anyone else.”

and with that you grabbed john b’s hand and rubbed your thumb back and forth on the back of his while he squeezed yours in response. jj lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair with his free ones and let out a deep breath he had been holding in.

“i really love your sister, man. i would die than let anything hurt her and would beat myself up if i was the one who did. i couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.” john b said, with the most sincere tone. a long, deafening silence followed and you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

“look...you guys are going to have to let me get used to this. i know you guys’ve been together for a while but ease it up in front of me, this is all just like super weird for me right now. i guess i should be happy that it’s john b and not some douchebag kook.” jj responded, rubbing his hand over his face because he felt overwhelmed. “and as for dad, i’m sorry it went that way. but next time there’s a secret like this, you can tell me. i’m blood for fucks sake.”

you gave your older brother a small smile and nod before getting up and taking a couple steps towards him. your approach quickly prompted him up and you pulled him in for a hug.

“not too much pda in front of me also. and i’m keeping a hawks eye watch on you, john b. thin ice, brother, thin ice.” jj said, pointing his two fingers to his eyes and that pointing them at john b. you laughed and slightly shoved jj.

“gotcha, bro.” john b responded chuckling and than gave jj a bro shake.

“soo... boat day?” you spoke up sheepishly, hoping to start the day fresh as you gave puppy-dog eyes to your brother and boyfriend.

“you call kie, i’ll call pope and then we’ll head out.” jj answered as you excitedly pulled out your phone to call kie. as you placed the ringing phone up to your ear you felt a kiss on the top of your head and an arm snake around your waist.

“at least it’s out of the way now.” john b whispered to you, as you nodded and looked up at him before kissing him.

#john b imagines #john b #john b routledge #john b x reader #john b routledge x #john b routledge x you #john b x yn #john b writing #obx writing #obx writings #obx imagines #obx x reader #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #pope heyward #pope heyward imagines #kiara carrera #kiara imagines

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peonybane · 5 years ago

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First Christmas

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader (ft. Uncles Yoongi, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jungkook)

Word Count: 4.35 k

Genres: SFW, Fluff, Post-idoldom AU

Summary: It was your first Christmas together as a family. The first one your twins would get to experience. So how could you not go all out making memories that’ll last a lifetime.

A/N: Thank you very much to @seakay05 for her proofreading. I hope you all enjoy this little story!

25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Anthology MASTERLIST

Sunlight filtered through your curtains, slowly rousing you from sleep. Stretching out carefully, you smiled at the now familiar sight in front of you, your family still fast asleep. The furthest away from you, was your husband. His large hand still rested on Nari’s tummy— she always fell fast asleep when he rubbed her belly. Taehyung was still very much asleep, thick eyelashes resting on his cheeks. His brow was relaxed. But his lips were set in a harsh line, pensive. Namu, who slept closest to you, had his father’s sleeping face. Which always made you giggle, seeing double vision in the contradictory look of a scowling lips but relaxed, almost happy brow. Nari slept closer to her father, her chubby cheeks facing towards him. You swore, she was more your enemy than your daughter when it came to Taehyung’s affections. More times than not, she’d rather cuddle with him than with you, hogging his cuddles.

As you were admiring your family, Yeontan grabbed your attention as he seemingly popped up from nowhere. He was behind Taehyung’s head, sleeping in his now customary spot up by Taehyung’s head instead of between the two of you. You smiled as you could see his whole fluffy body shake from the force of his tail wagging as he rested his chin on Taehyung’s head.

Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!

Oh, there’s your own four legged baby. You looked over your shoulder behind you and saw Kiwi’s boxy, brown head resting on the bed. Her chonky body wiggled with the force of her tail as well. But unlike Yeontan, who’s tail merely vibrated silently, Kiwi’s whip-like tail smacked against the nightstand table. Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!

Taehyung groaned, “Kiwi….”

You snickered, “I think our fur-babies want to go potty.”

He peeked one eye open. He startled a little, probably no expecting Nari to be so close to him. Taehyung stretched a little, his back popping. “Let me cuddle the Littles for a little while longer. I missed them.”

You smiled, Taehyung had been working his butt off to get a bunch of stuff done so he could finally spend some quality family time with you all Besides, the hour drive one way out of the heart of Seoul didn’t help, that was for sure.

Sitting up, you first kissed Namu and Nari on the forehead, then leaned over to kiss Taehyung on the cheek. He hummed happily as he reached over, pulling the Littles closer to him.

After staring down at them for a moment, Kiwi’s little whines pulled you away from the sweet scene, reminding you that her bladder really needed to go.

Getting up, you slipped on your fluffy socks and robe, leading the fuzzies out of the bedroom and down the hall to go potty.

You stood in the doorway, leading out to the backyard as Kiwi and Yeontan did their thing. It was cold, a very light layer of snow covered everything. But the dogs didn’t seem to mind. If anything, they seemed to enjoy it. Winter this year in Seoul was mild. Something you were thankful for. You didn’t want the twin’s first winter—first Christmas— to be unbearably cold. And you were glad that Taehyung wanted to move away from inner Seoul— to raise a family in the away from hustle and bustle of the city. A place where the paparazzi couldn’t easily look in on your lives.

Finally, Kiwi and Yeontan had had enough of the cold, having gotten their fill of the daily yard sniffing and were ready for breakfast.

In the kitchen, you were preparing their food when you heard one of the twins start to cry. It was like a blaring alarm to you. You paused in preparing the dog’s food in exchange your baby. Taehyung emerged from your bedroom, carrying the still sleeping Nari in the sling while carrying the crying Namu in his arms. “I don’t think Namu needs to be changed, but I think he’s hungry.”

You smiled as your husband tried to quiet him down. You made grabby hands as you settled down the couch, then readjusted your nightshirt and robe so you could feed Namu. Taehyung gently settled your son in your arms as he continued to scream. It took a little jostling, but you managed to get him to latch on to feed for breakfast.

A calmness settled around you as you watched him nurse. He was so adorable. Namu was probably going to end up looking like you— at four months old, he already looked like you if your own baby pictures were anything to go by. He shared his father’s skin tone and already a similar brow, though.

Namu calmed down as he stared up you. His little hand gripped your finger as he nursed. Slowly though, his grip on your finger started to loosen and his eyes started to droop. “Already milk drunk, huh?”

You looked up as Taehyung stood over you, smiling as he rocked Nari, who was now very much awake as she tried to grab for Taehyung’s thick-rimmed glasses. You giggled as Namu completely unlatched from you. But almost immediately, he tried to nuzzle back into your breast.

Taehyung laughed, “Mama’s boy.”

You laughed as well as the two of you semi coordinately exchanged the twins. Nari wasn’t particularly compliant, but luckily hunger won out. Thank goodness, Taehyung couldn’t lactate. You were pretty sure you’d never get her to detach from her father otherwise. Switching breasts, Nari too began to nurse. She was the easier one to nurse, rarely throwing a tantrum, but it was harder to get to drink as much as she should’ve. You had a feeling she’d be the first one to be weened.

Taehyung burped Namu before putting him in the sling. As you nursed Nari, Kiwi joined you on the couch, resting her head on your thigh as she adoringly gazed at Nari in your arms. Kiwi was the ultimate nanny dog, always having to keep a close eye on the twins. Kiwi burped, letting you know that she greatly enjoyed the breakfast Taehyung finished putting together for her and Yeontan. You petted her head, continuing to nurse Nari.

Suddenly, Yeontan started barking, letting you know that your house guests, well, at least one of them, was up. Both you and Taehyung turned in time to see a barely conscious Jungkook and strangely perky Seokjin trudging down the stairs. Taehyung rocked Namu in his arms, standing between you and your houseguests.

“Morning, Jin. Jungkook.”

Jungkook groaned as he settled in on the couch next to you, partially conscious— Seokjin must have woken him up against his will. Taehyung kept a close eye on Jungkook— he didn’t like how sometimes Jungkook or Hoseok would stare at you when you were breastfeeding. At first, you thought it was a sexual possessiveness, one that you were not going to tolerate. A brief conversation with his mother though rid you of that notion— he had seen how people reacted to her breastfeeding his siblings, he was not going to stand for you or your children being regarded in the same way.

Seokjin headed over to the kitchen, calling your name. “Since it’s breakfast time over there, does that mean the rest of us can finally eat?”

You chuckled. “Only if you cook. The Littles really take it out of me. Especially, when they don’t give me a chance to eat right before.”

Taehyung chuckled. Seokjin opened his mouth to say something but at the last second decided against it. With Namu snoozing up a storm in the sling, Taehyung joined Seokjin in the kitchen. “Yah! What are you doing in here?”

“Come on, Hyung. I’ve learned to cook a little.”

Seokjin sputtered. “Oh yeah?”

You called out, “He makes excellent eggs and stir fry!”

From your seat on the couch, you could hear Taehyung laugh before he and Seokjin started working on breakfast.

Jungkook continued to be on the verge of consciousness as you continued to feed Nari. Eventually, she had enough. You slipped your shirt back into place and rested Nari against your shoulder, gently burping her. Once she was content after a burp and a toot or two, she started teething on her hand, making all sorts of incoherent baby babble as she stared at Jungkook.

It was like she was incanting a magic spell, one which slowly roused Jungkook to full consciousness. Jungkook politely called out to you. You turned towards him. His gaze was soft as he looked at Nari in her purple onesie. Smiling softly, you asked, “Do you want to hold her?”

“Ca—Can I?”

You nodded, shifting her around to hand her off to Jungkook. Almost cautiously, he took her in his arms, cradling her against his chest. The sight was one to behold. Jungkook had gotten bulkier, grown out hair tied up. His ears had so many holes, having removed the dangly jewelry the night before since Nari was a grabber. As he cradled her small body against him, you could help but note the array of tattoos he’d slowly been accumulating over the last few years. It was an amazing scene of tough ruggedness and sweet tenderness.

Nari sucked on her fingers as she gazed up at him as he rocked her, singing softly to her. It was the cutest sight ever, especially with Kiwi now having switched from your leg to Jungkook’s as she continued to keep an eye on her baby.

While he was distracted with Nari, you quietly got up and headed to the kitchen. Taehyung turned to you when he heard you. Luckily, he wasn’t doing anything dangerous. His brow knit together when he saw that Nari wasn’t in your arms. You held a finger up to your lips then pointed back towards the living room. Curious, Taehyung followed you there.

The two of you stood in the doorway, watching as Jungkook had successfully rocked Nari back to sleep. He seemed to have knocked Kiwi out too with his singing as she started boofing in her sleep, probably terrorizing either Rapmon or Yeontan with a game of chase. The two of you watched, completely entranced by the scene. Eventually, Seokjin came and joined the two of you. It was amazing— the power little Nari held over all of you.

Eventually though, Jungkook stopped singing, Kiwi woke up immediately. He kissed her little forehead and stood up still cradling her. When he realized the three of you had been watching him, he turned all sorts of shades of red. “Ummm. She—They— I mean—“

You giggled. “It’s fine, Jungkook. How about we get some breakfast in you? Hmmm?”

He nodded shyly, but continued to rock Nari in his arms, completely transfixed by her sweet little face.

A few hours later, almost everything was ready to go….

A quick concession of three taps on your front door, followed by Kiwi and Yeontan barking their heads off alerted you to your other guests. Jungkook called out, “I’ll get it!”

You and Taehyung had just finished changing the Littles into their matching outfits— all Taehyung’s idea, of course. Namu and Nari were dressed up in little elf outfits. Both of them had on little striped pants: Namu’s were red and white, while Nari’s were light green and white. Namu wore a green shirt with a ‘belt’ printed on it and Nari wore a red dress with poinsettias on it. Both of them had little elf hats on, completely with felt ears attached to the sides. Namu’s was green with red trim and a noisy bell (Taehyung’s terrible idea) attached to the tip of it. Nari’s was red with white trim and a large fake poinsettia attached to the hat, tucked in behind the ear.

You heard Jungkook greet your final two guests, Yoongi and Namjoon. Namjoon had opted to stay at Yoongi’s place, a short drive away from your own, where he kept an apartment on the down low. You picked up Namu as he began teething on the frozen washcloth you gave him to soothe his gums, turning your attention to the two older men entering. “Long time, no see, Namjoon.”

You gave him a one-armed hug, one he returned, being mindful of Namu. “No kidding. Oh my god. They’ve gotten so big!”

“If you visited them more often you wouldn’t be surprised,” replied Yoongi as he dumped his jacket on the customary jacket dumping ground: the couch.

You rolled your eyes as Yoongi went over and picked up Nari, kissing her all over her face, making her giggle. “How’s my little rap princess?”

You and Taehyung laughed. Out of all his bandmates, the one most in love with the babies was surprisingly, Yoongi. Sure, he had an apartment nearby, but the amount of time he spent there rather than at the company owned series of apartments in downtown Seoul increased practically tenfold when the twins were born. ‘Uncle Yoongi’ really loved playing his role.

Seokjin entered the living room from the kitchen, bringing over a couple of mugs of hot chocolate. “Yah! Who are you calling ‘rap princess?’ She’s going to be a ‘cooking fairy!’”

You and Taehyung exchanged looked before sniggering as the two oldest began to argue. “Hyung, I’m just saying, Nari is going to learn to rap, and I’m going to teach Namu how to compose.”

As Taehyung took Namu from your arms, he asked, “What if Nari wants to compose? Or dance? Or if Namu wants to rap? Or sing? What are you going to do then?”

Yoongi made a face. “You’re going to end up with at least four kids anyways, I got room to work with.”

You snorted at that. Just as Seokjin was about to verbally retaliate, Taehyung had the good sense to move on from the topic. “Anyways, isn’t it time to take some photos?”

This got Jungkook’s attention. “Right, what pictures do you guys want first?”

You went and got Nari from Yoongi’s arms. “Probably a family picture before anything else for my family, since we they can’t join us in Korea this year.”

Jungkook nodded. “Alright, let’s start with a quick couple of outside pictures then let’s move it inside.”

You and Taehyung started getting to work. You passed off Nari back to Yoongi as you put on your sling, and Taehyung passed off Namu to Seokjin as he did the same.

The pair of you were sort of dressed up as Santa and Mrs. Claus. Taehyung wore an obnoxiously bright red sweater over a white button up, and grey pants that hid his black boots. He had dusted his hair with some white powder as it sat under a Santa hat. His thick rimmed glasses completed the look. You wore an emerald green dress with poinsettia leggings tucked into black boots. Instead of a bonnet though, you opted for one of Tae’s white berets, a fake sprig of holly clipped into it.

Even Kiwi and Yeontan were going to get in on the fun: both of them being very patient reindeers, with the help of Jungkook. Yeontan was the most compliant with the reindeer antlers being put on him, Kiwi was… not nearly as compliant. Thank goodness, though, she was one of the most food motivated dogs you had ever seen.

In the backyard, you and Taehyung stood close together, the Littles in their slings already: Nari with you and Namu with Taehyung, making the babies contrast in color with the two of you. Yoongi and Namjoon helped position the dogs in the right place with the promises of treats. Well, treats for Kiwi as she zeroed in on the dried liver treat in Namjoon’s hand, already salivating.

Jungkook worked as quick as possible, telling you and Taehyung how to stand so he could make the most out of the falling snow before the Littles got too cold. After almost a half hour standing out in the cold, and Yoongi and Jungkook arguing about photo angles, you were done being out in the cold. Well, Namu made it clear he was done by screaming his head off.

Once back in the house, Taehyung cuddled your little boy as much as possible, giving him all sorts of kisses as Kiwi was started pacing around anxiously at the sound his crying. Yeontan… Yeontan followed her. Kiwi was the captain on the Baby Protection Patrol. He’d follow her everywhere.

Taehyung called your name. “I think he’d rather have his mom.”

You smiled and the two of you awkwardly switched babies again. Once in your arms, Namu slowly started to settle down. You pressed your forehead to his as he ceased his crying, rubbing your nose against his little one. A shutter sounded and you looked over at Yoongi. He at least had enough shame to look over at you shyly. “If it makes you feel better, it’s a beautiful shot.”

Carrying Nari, Taehyung stood behind Yoongi. “Damn. That really is an amazing shot.”

You couldn’t help but blush as you settled Namu against your shoulder and he began to teeth on his fingers. Jungkook giggled. “How about we move you guys over to the tree now?”

Making a little noise of agreement, you sat down on the ground, Kiwi immediately coming up to you kiss your face. “Kiwi! My make up!”

Her whole body wiggled as she settled on the ground besides you, looking up adoringly at her baby. Taehyung settled in on your other side, carrying on a conversation with Nari as she babbled incoherently at her father. “Did she say that, Nari? Really?”

She babbled even more. You giggled. “Oh, do tell: what are you two gossiping about?”

Taehyung shot you a boxy smile before leaning in and kissing your cheek. You ignored the shuttering sound of the camera and the mock gagging noise Seokjin was making off to the side. “Oh, she was telling me how much her mama loves me. You think I should ask the little lady’s mom out on a Christmas date?”

You laughed, making him smile in return. “Only if Namu’s papa can find a baby sitter in either grandma or one of his six uncles.”

The two of you turned, looking over at Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, and Seokjin, hopefully. Seokjin waved his hands. “How about we call over the two that are working today to babysit for Christmas?”

The others laughed. Hoseok supposedly already had a hot date planned since this was his first Christmas not working. Jimin… you didn’t know what he was doing. “Oh, no. You are not saddling poor Jimin with these two alone. I need at least two of you on babysitting duty. Otherwise, it’s grandma’s house.”

Jungkook started directing you and Taehyung when Yoongi piped. “Ah, screw it. I’ll handle these two.”

“No way. You practically live here, ‘Uncle Yoongi.’”

Yoongi blushed as you teased him. Suddenly, Nari looked over at Yoongi and started making grabby hands at him, squealing, “Gi! Gi! Gi!”

You and Taehyung started awing at her, all the while, Yoongi froze up. Clearly, his brain was playing catch up as the other laughed at his expense. Once his brain had caught up, he laughed. “See. A little rapper in the making.”

You all laughed at that.

Once family pictures were done, it was time for the spotlight to be on the babies.

Still in their little elf outfits, you and Taehyung maneuvered them under the Christmas tree for tummy time. This time, it was Taehyung’s turn to take pictures. He settled on the ground too, belly to the ground as he made all sorts of faces and noises to get the Littles to laugh. Not be outdone, Yeontan, after shaking himself free of the humiliating reindeer antlers, crawled under the Christmas tree with the twins, settling right down in between them.

For the next couple of hours, the lot of you occupied yourselves with taking baby-only pictures. Some of them were almost like stories, with Namu and Nari being mischievous little elves getting into all sorts of trouble. Some of them were just to be cute, like when Kiwi let you wrap her up loosely in a strand of lights and sitting her babies in front her as they mad all sort of happy noises.

Namesake pictures were a must, too. After a lunch, of course. Milk drunk babies made for some of the best pictures. Taehyung had Namu lay under the tree again, this time on his back after changing him out of the elf outfit and into something more comfortable for him. Taehyung managed to get a great angle off him through the needles of the fir tree. After all, Namu meant fir tree. With Nari, you changed her into a cute little pink dress with headband with a big fake lily on it. You gave her a bouquet of lilies to play with as Jungkook went to town on taking picture of her. She looked so cute with her namesake.

Once those pictures were done, it was a nice afternoon of pictures as everyone took pictures of each other with the babies.

There’s a whole series of photos of Jungkook playing with the Littles during tummy time, with Namu being the most determined to go after him as he wormed his way across the carpet. There’s a photo of Seokjin and Namjoon giving you a heart attack as they pretend to try to throw Namu between the two of them. There’s a dozen or so photos of Seokjin wearing the baby bijorn, with Namu in it, watching him cook with large eyes he noms on his frozen teething rag. In the background of one the photos of Seokjin cooking, Namjoon could be seen in a chair with Nari in a sling, her head on his chest as she looked up at him as he read to her all sorts of fairytales.

Dinner was filled with all sorts of photos and games, including Seokjin pulling out a sprig mistletoe, prompting an impromptu makeout session between you and Taehyung where you were being as silly and as gross as possible about it, Jungkook and Yoongi making exaggerated faces of disgust.

After dinner, the living room was filled once more with laughter and the shutter of the camera as the men messed around. Taehyung snapped a few sweet, intimate photos of you nursing each of the twins, the lights from the Christmas tree bathing you and the babies in a gentle glow. Taehyung had even captured your reaction to Namu calling out ‘mama’ in the midst of a very important speech he was giving to you. He may not have been necessarily calling you ‘mama’ on purpose, but the way he looked up at you with those big eyes and all the love in the world made you believe it.

As the night winded down and most of the adult had had a drink, Yoongi fell asleep on the couch with one baby in the crook of each arm, each one resting their heads on his chest, both copying his open mouth sleeping face. Yeontan had jumped onto the back of the couch, snoozing near Yoongi’s head as well. Kiwi on the other hand was wide awake, making sure her babies were ok as they slept. While you were taking a picture of the cute sight, Namjoon sighed, “Looks like we’re not going back to hyung’s place tonight.”

Taehyung responded, “Don’t worry about it. We got plenty of room.”

Namjoon looked to you. “You sure?”

“Yeah. The more the merrier.”

Taehyung stood up and wrapped his arms around your middle, resting his head on your shoulder. “In that case, the wife and I are gonna get ready for bed then come back for the Littles.”

You smirked looking back at him. “Who says I’m the wife?”

He smirked back as he took your left hand in his, bringing it to his lips to kiss the knuckle under the wedding ring he painstakingly designed and had custom made for you. “This.”

You blushed, shaking your head as you pulled away from him. “Awww.”

Taehyung smiled cheekily at you as he followed. Once in your room, you turned to him, putting your hands on his chest. In return he rested his hands on your hips, looking down at you. You smoothed out the slight wrinkle in his sweater. “You know… I love you.”

He raised an eyebrow at you before kissing you on the tip of the nose. “And I love you.”

His hands slipped down to cup your bottom. He started wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, making you laugh. You playfully smacked his hands away.

“No way, good sir. Not with guests and definitely not with the Littles at home.”

He stared at you as you went to change. “You’re no fun.”

You scoffed. “Yes, I am.”

Once you were both changed into your matching snowflake pajamas and the white powder had been cleaned from Taehyung’s hair, the two of you headed downstairs to retrieve the Littles. Each of you plucked a Little from Yoongi’s chest, cradling them gently as you took them upstairs to get ready for bed.

As soon as they were dressed in their jammies and washed up, Taehyung laid them in bed then joined them, before you could get in though, you watched as he laid them both on his chest, Namu immediately grabbing his sister’s hand. In a low voice, he began to sing to them. The low rumbling of his voice gently coaxed them to sleep.

Being as careful as possible, you grabbed the camera, snapping a few pictures of Namu and Nari sleeping on their father’s chest as he gazed down at them adoringly. As you set down the camera on the nightstand, Taehyung looked up at you, tears welling up in his eyes slightly. “Thank you.”

You got into bed next to him, taking Nari from his arms, cuddling her. You kissed her forehead, then Namu’s. You met Taehyung’s gaze before leaning in and giving him one last kiss.

“And thank you, my love. For everything.”

As always, reviews, comments, asks, and tags are always loved! ~Peony

Also, please note that I do NOT do tagging lists. Please see my FAQ for why.

25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Anthology MASTERLIST

#25DaysOfBTSXmas #bts #bts fluff #christmas #babies #ficswithluv #v #bts v #v bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung bts #bts taehyung #v x reader #taehyung x reader #collaboration #bts collaboration

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undead-notunreasonable · 4 years ago

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Happy Drac-O-Ween || Part 22 of 31 ||

Yet another club. Count Dracula was growing rather fond of them in this century. They beat Ball’s that’s for certain. There was no expectation other than sex or a good time one would come to regret when the sun rose, no one had to wear certain items of clothing to show their amount of wealth, no decorum in the way they spoke, humans were just entirely free to do and be whoever they pleased now & he thrived in that. This wasn’t just any ordinary club however, this was a club in Soho. Now,, if you’re someone who isn’t familiar with the different areas of London, know this: Soho was the gay quarter of the city, where humans who differed from others could come here & be amongst those they connected with. People who understood. That, and a sector where straight women came from drag brunch with Abba music playing in the background. How tedious.

The reason Dracula were here tonight were mainly because Vlad had been buried within a wine cellar for over a century. He hadn’t experienced the joys of being within a room filled with so many people all of whom shared the same sentiment as you. Soho wasn’t a place that was shy in it’s demeanour. Dracula ha to admit that he was growing somewhat jealous of the Warlord being grinded upon by someone...far much younger than him. But he knew, that after 500 years of wanting to be at each others side he didn’t have anything to worry about.

Just as he went to take a sip of his elaborate cocktail, filled with tinsel, glitter, and citrus wedges, he heard a female voice grabbing his attention “I thought you didn’t drink?”

“Wine.” an automatic response. He placed the glass upon his napkin & gave his full attention to the ghost of Lucy Westenra “It’s merely a blending tactic. It turns to ash the moment it hits my tongue.” the fingers of his right hand twirled by his lips, almost as if he were trying to figure out what that final flavour on his tongue was.

“Shame.” Lucy folded her arms & leaned across the table, looking on at the club goers in longing “I would give anything to dance and drink in a nightclub again.” her eyes sparkled as she watched the lights flash in a whole array of different colours.

Dracula looked from the crowd, to Lucy, then down at his glass. Long fingers teased the stem of the cocktail, rubbing up and down, lips parted as he paused a moment before he spoke once more “What if I told you that you could do that again?”

Lucy scoffed at this “What? But that’s impossible. I have no corpse and I’m not a vampire anymore.” Words that held no substance. Dracula could see that within her eyes, she had hope, a hope that she could go back to the adored woman that she was even if she didn’t admit it aloud.

The vampire leaned across the table, folding his fingers together, working the most deathly series expression he could muster, one that showed he was about to share private information. Lucy Westenra was hooked in that instant, mirroring the mans actions. Dracula’s voice remained steady, wanting to make sure he didn’t have to repeat his words “This isn’t information that is widely shared, especially not in the month of October, there’s too many unseen undead out there, we can’t risk bringing to many back.” His tongue ran out to lick his lip before briefly sucking it back in, and biting at his lip. His expression turned to that of worry then “There’s an organisation that would be cause of concern for the both of us. I’ve already had a run in with them, they know of vampires but if they knew... about ghosts, that vampires can bring back those who’ve passed on, well... let’s just say you’d be missing out on all your chances to have this cocktail in the future.” Count Dracula slid the glass filled with a sickly looking orange liquid across the table until it came to rest under her nose.

Lucy stared down at the glass a moment, then looked out toward the crowd, simply just living their best lives, knowing they’d go home and probably regret it the following morning but god was it a highlight of a weekend. Was she actually contemplating doing whatever Dracula had in store for her just for a drink & a dance? She sure as hell was. With a flick of her hair, she looked to the vampire once more “So what’s the plan you have in store for me then?” her voice were light & cheery.

A slow smile grew on the Count’s lips, nodding in gentle delight that he’d managed to convince the woman to join him in his efforts. Okay, so he didn’t tell her the full truth but that wasn’t necessarily important right now. She’d learn in time. When it was too late. “We need you to take out this organisation. It’s vital that they’re disposed of. We need information, information of who is funding them. Now, I can’t just waltz into the House of Commons during a funding meeting, but you can, you have the gift of being invisible. I need you to eavesdrop--” Dracula were talking through his plan like it were almost routine until he came caught off guard by Lucy’s interruption

“--You want me to go and sit in a room with a bunch of people talking politics? Oh god, I’d rather die a third time.” Lucy scoffed, whining childishly about the task.

Dracula reached out, taking hold of her hand sharply, gripping to make her shut up and listen “You don’t even need to listen to the whole thing. Merely listen out for anything peculiar. Anything strange that doesn’t seem like humans would willingly give their tax money over too. Take a note of any & all names. I know you’re one with a keen ear for gossip, that’s why I’m trusting you with this task.”

Hmm, D thought her sleuth while also being somewhat of a gossiping bitch. Still, nothing got sorted if you just let it lie as it were. “Fine. I’ll do it.” she said simply, resting the entitlement on her shoulders, settling it in her bones as she sat up straight.

Satisfied that the woman was on their side, Dracula met eyes with Vlad, who was too busy enjoying the rolling body of a young blond man to walk over & introduce himself. But the seductive, hungry look that he’d shared with Omor certainly suggested that the pair wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight.

#Drac-O-Ween #Claes Bang #BBC Dracula #Dracula BBC #Netflix Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Claes Bang Thirst Squad

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severelyimpossiblecrown · 4 years ago

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Tricked, No Treat.

Today, I have emotion sickness. I’ve injected too much expectation again. I thought I had learned some lessons from occasions past where I’m supposed to have no expectations at all. It was my birthday weekend, and I just wanted to have fun. To feel special and wanted. Instead, I let one of the women I’ve obsessed over for years ruin another Halloween.

I’ve known her forever. For the sake of this fun-and-not-at-all exercise in catharsis, we’ll call her Anna. We’ve had our ups and downs. I often wonder if she actually likes me and sees me as a person. After last night, I feel like she doesn’t.

We had planned to hang out on Halloween, which is the day after my birthday.

I thought this would be a sexy evening eventually. I made those intentions plain. I’m 36 now; I can’t mince words anymore.

We texted back and forth about how we were looking forward to the night. Anna said she was “excited to see me.”

To the millions of women reading this, why do y’all do this to us? Gas us up when you don’t seem to like us that much? Is attention and validation of making us crawl through the dirt worth burning the genuine people in your life?

I wore my orange skeleton Morphsuit to have a costume on despite the cold. We were going to hop around the city with a couple of friends of hers. Graciously, my close friend decided to come along.

So we at least had a ride to get around Brooklyn. We’ll call him Grant. Thank god for him deciding to come along. Without him, I might’ve gone crazy or came out of my face to these people. We met up with them at a bar in Bushwick. It was just Anna and one male friend. My heart sank. I knew what that meant from past experience. This guy was probably one of her lovers and she had fronted on me about it because she didn’t want me to get upset.

This friend of hers was a man she told me earlier in the week I didn’t have to “worry about because he’s gay” when I asked if I would be the third wheel. We’ll call him Jason. I spent a fair amount of the night watching them visibly make out on the coke I ended up sharing with them.

There were supposed to be more of her friends coming, but they stayed in the city at some secret Gothic Renaissance party. So it was Grant driving, Anna, Jason, and me.

We got a drink at the bar outside of which there was a cool mariachi band playing covers and hits. Jason knew someone in the band, which is how he knew about the show. Seeing live music took a bit of the edge of the rapidly growing and gnawing anxiety in my stomach about how the evening was going to go.

“Just stay calm. Getting mad isn’t going to work.” I said to myself for the first of many times that night.

Something that will come up a lot in this confessional story-thing is: I wish she would’ve told me several vital things well in advance like “you’re not fucking me on Halloween” and “I’m going to meet up with someone else after I chill with you.” You know, some real communication from some who say they see me and “adores” me. I always find it funny how the ones who show the least love are always telling you how much they love you.

I know what many of you are thinking. “Anna doesn’t owe you her body, her time, or her love.” Y’all are absolutely right. Again, I’m the one who plunged the needle into my neck and shot all that juicy expectation into myself. I read more into the signals I thought I was receiving. I’m the one who spent his own birthday running around to get the drugs for Halloween SO WE COULD ALL HAVE FUN.

All she had to say to me is, “you’re not fucking me on Halloween.”.

So the night progresses. We leave the first bar in Bushwick and walk back to Grant’s car that was parked nearby. On the way to the car Jason is all over Anna as they remark on the beautiful moon and sloppily make out. I clenched my fists and remember Anna’s text about how I didn’t have to worry about Jason. Of course I didn’t. He was obviously one of her lovers and I came to a hard realization that I’m just a friend/source of attention to Anna and I always will be. My anger rose sharply as I tried not to stare too jealously at the pair.

We get into Grant’s truck to go a metal bar in southern Brooklyn. I pulled out the cocaine I had on me to regain some confidence in myself and in the rest of the evening. I share with the happy couple in the back and we have some small talk ranging from Grant and I’s experience in security, to my referencing how Anna used to treat me like garbage in our twenties, to tales of Jason’s sluttiness and how even though he fucked men, he loved fucking Russian girls like Anna. My heart dropped even further into my stomach. This was going to be a long night for me.

After what seemed like a very long car ride to southern BK, we arrive at Lucky 13 Saloon and hang for a bit but didn’t stay long. The vibe there was one of impatience, like folks were just here to figure out what was going on elsewhere as they got drinks. We got a drink and largely stayed to ourselves talking.

Eventually, we leave to drop Jason off at the Atlantic Avenue train station as the trains shut down after 1 AM. They continued to make out and be talkative from the backseat on the cocaine as we drive to the station. Grant and I are making conversation with them while we exchanged knowing looks of “this night is some bullshit” to each other We get to the station, and my assumption was that Anna would leave with Jason, given how the night had gone. But to our surprise, she stayed in the car and asked if she could come to my house. Confused, I got out of the vehicle to switch seats with Jason as he went toward the station.

He turns to me and hugs me, thanks me for the coke, and tells me to “take care of her. I’m trying to FUCK her tomorrow.”

*sigh*

“I’m trying to fuck her tonight,” I said, offering some false confidence.

Giving me a slight smirk, he strolled off into the station. Still shocked at the fact that Anna didn’t leave with Jason after all the PDA they showed all night, I figured I’d get into the backseat with Anna to start my own pushing up on her.

The three of us spent the car ride back to my house talking as I rub my Morphsuited hand along her inner thigh and slide my left orange hand around her nice and tight ass. She didn’t pull away or show any sign of dislike, so I thought maybe, just maybe, the night would go my way.

WHAT A FUCKING FOOL I WAS.

We get back to my home, and Grant goes to the store for some beers. I take Anna up to my apartment. When we get inside, I walk right up to her and grab her by the waist lightly.

“I missed you so much. I’m so glad you came.” I speak, gathering the little bit of nerve I have left, beginning to come in for a kiss.

Anna gives a quizzical face and pulls away.

“Don’t go and start hitting on me now.” She says.

I did my best to conceal my tremendous disappointment and feelings of rejection and raced for something to say to alleviate the awkwardness of getting shut down.

“Aw. We can’t even cuddle?” I say, my heart breaking.

“No, that always leads to things,” she said.

It is here I will repeat yet again, bored reader, all she had to do is tell me, before Hallow-goddamn-ween, my favorite holiday, is “I’m not going to fuck you on Halloween.”

Instead, we were standing in my room awkwardly.

“See, now you hate me,” she says almost flippantly like she hadn’t known me for nearly a decade.

Grant walked back inside just then as my mind raced with questions.

“Why did she come back here then if I wasn’t tonight’s lover? Why not go home with Jason, who was one of her present lovers? Why even invite me out at all to her adventure, making it seem like she wanted me to be a big part of it?”

Grant sat down, and we start to listen to music videos and drink Jamison. I tried very hard to stay calm and salvage the night. We managed to have a good time, even having Anna sit closer to me on my couch. At least things wouldn’t end too bad. We started in on the remaining fishscale I had left. My logic at that point was to get good and fucked up so I could at least appear to be having fun.

Part of me felt off about sharing my drugs with Anna, but I always try to be a good and hospitable host to my guests and I knew that I was just feeling petty at that moment. During this time, I noticed that she was actively texting someone on her phone in between videos when she thought I wasn’t looking. That was it. That was why she didn’t go home with Jason. She had someone else already lined up.

I then felt the same sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach I had felt all night. The coke now spiraling through my body made my mood and level of annoyance spike, but I managed to maintain my composure.

Grant is being the best sport in the world about all of this. He’s heard many stories from me about Anna and was an impartial observer in this subtle game of power that Anna was winning easily.

I again cannot stress enough intrepid and obviously bored reader, that all she had to tell me, a day or even hours before this “date” that “she wasn’t going to fuck me on HALLOWEEN.”

Eventually, Anna tries to shoehorn in her intent to leave. Saying she found out about another party. Stupidly, I ask if I can come, full well knowing I’m about to get fronted on.

“It’s private.” She says with a sly smile.

It all dawns on me then. Anna was only killing time here/getting high on my drugs to get ready for the last stop of the night with whatever lover she had been waiting all night to hear from.

And she had heard. She got ready so quickly, eagerly awaiting her Uber, trying to remain jovial even though Grant and I both felt a certain type of way about what had just happened.

Inside my mind, I was screaming.

Outside of it, I was fidgety from all the coke I’d done tryin’ to keep any feelings of upset off my face. Something I’ve never been good at being an emotional Caribbean-American raised by Puerto Rican women. At the beginning of the night, my heart was thudding with excitement and was now thudding with cocaine, anger, and anxiety.

During one of my bathroom breaks, Anna leans over to Grant (who told me about this later) saying:

“I think Brian’s mad at me because I said I was going somewhere else. I’m just gonna leave.”

As she was saying this, I was in my bathroom talking myself down in the mirror from showing anger or extreme emotions toward her because I didn’t want to do what I had done in the past and explode for something not worth exploding over. Washing my face and hands, I walked back to my bedroom.

We watched a video or two more when her car arrived downstairs.

“Will you walk me out?” She asked; it almost sounded like a distant echo as the voices in my head started to laugh audibly at me.

I nodded and mutely put on my sneakers over my orange feet. I didn’t even know why I wore that thing. Why did I do anything for this woman?

She happily says bye to Grant, who had been nothing but a good sport in helping me to entertain Anna as he watched me go through it internally. He accepts her thanks for driving her and Jason around. We walk out of my place into the hallway, where Anna tries to make small talk about my Morphsuit and my ass as we leave my building.

“Oh, sure. Now you notice me. Like I haven’t been wearing this thing all fucking night.” I thought, hands clenched. I don’t remember if she saw them or not. I imagine my body language wasn’t the best from her viewpoint.

I gave her queries about my suit short and terse answers. She clearly knew she upset me and tried to do that weird thing some women do to preemptively calm a man down with lighthearted questions like there isn’t a goddamn two-ton elephant in the room.

I repeat, stalwart reader, all Anna had to do in the WEEK leading up to this awkward ass debacle was say, “I’m not fucking you on Halloween.”

We get outside into the appropriately frigid night as her cab pulls up. I’m inhaling deep breaths through my nose and out of my mouth to keep warm and also calm. She saw this and turned to me and repeated the same thing she said earlier:

“See? Now you haaaate mee..don’t hate me!” she cooed in an attempt at soothing me.

“I don’t hate you. I just feel super rejected. You’re going to spend time with someone else you’d rather see.” I mutter tiny like I hadn’t just turned 36.

I wanted to ask her why she even bothered to invite me, but there was no time, and I didn’t want to pick a fight, no matter how the night had gone. My experiences with Anna had taught me that there isn’t any point anyway. She is a free woman, and she was always going to do her.

Pity and impatience perhaps flash in her eyes and she hugs me.

“I’ll spend some personal time with you if you want.” She offered.

“You are always busy with your other lovers..” I said, barely making eye contact, hard lump in my throat , desperately trying to hold onto some last disparate shred of masculinity.

She laughed slightly and offered me a hug and two kisses on the mouth. With her black facemask on.

If that wasn’t the perfect image to capture the night and our entire relationship, for that matter, I don’t know what is.

She almost skipped off toward the cab across the street and hopped in, immediately getting on her phone. Undoubtedly to tell her chosen lover that she’d ditched the loser that was trying to press up on her all night. At least that is the story that I made up in my brain.

I trudged back up my stairs, gritting my teeth due to the coke and my frayed nerves, walked back into the crib, and immediately began punching myself in the forehead with my orange and black hand a couple of times.

Grant, who had been mainly a combination of amused and saddened for me by the evening and it’s events, interjected sharply.

“We’re NOT going to do that, sir.”

I take a deep breath and stop. We then spent the next three hours or so breaking the night down so I could at least see if I was tripping for feeling like I had. I’d go more into it, but it was really just commiseration, cocaine, and our long-running dialogue about why we keep loving women who expect us to dance in a tornado for them when they would never walk through light rain for us.

Lastly, I add a predictable ending, brave, and durable reader: I am aware that I did everything to myself. Anna again, doesn’t owe me anything and didn’t have to give me anything that night. I doped myself up with a heady fantasy that was never going to happen. As Grant so astutely pointed out:

“You should’ve known what it was as soon as you saw her kissing on ol’ boy”

I agree. Probably would’ve skipped the the aggravation that came up later. Precious reader, I am man enough to admit that I fucked up and essentially ran face first into a brick wall repeatedly. This story comes off like I am mad at Anna, and I was, until I realized that everything that inspired my pissiness on Halloween is my fault. I let pride and ego walk me right into a night of embarrassment.

I’ve known Anna for 9 years. She’d done this kind of bait-and-switch thing before. I was hoping this time, now that we’re older, I’d get some more courtesy or honesty. At least for my goddamn birthday. Let me go and pull this shit on her birthday, and I’d be a fucking monster. But I guess she still only sees me as her pet and not a person, which hurts most of all.

Especially when ALL SHE HAD TO DO WAS TELL ME THAT “I’M NOT FUCKING YOU ON HALLOWEEN.”

#prose?#livejournal #shedding #love #Anna #justwrite #TheHours

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aswithasunbeam · 6 years ago

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Home, a Hamliza fic

[Read on AO3]

Rated: General Audiences

Summary: "This morning my beloved Eliza I leave Albany for Claverack, my health greatly mended and I hope to make but a short stay there. My plan is to go to Poughkepsie and there embark. I shall be glad to find that my dear little Philip is weaned, if circumstances have rendered it prudent. It is of importance to me to rest quietly in your bosom. Adieu my beloved." -Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Hamilton, October 1803

Alexander arrives home from his trip in the fall of 1803 and enjoys his longed for quiet, peaceful moment with his beloved wife. __ Sweet Hamliza and Hamilton Family Fluff

The Grange, November 1803

Eliza lay still in the dark, fists gripping at her blankets and heart pounding in her chest as she strained to hear over the noise of the storm. Rain roared against the roof, loud as a waterfall, making it impossible to listen for the subtle sound that had first roused her, but she’d have sworn she heard the front door opening. No one in the house would be going out at this time of night, and in this weather no less. Could they have an intruder?

Footsteps carried up from the stairs, soft at first, then growing louder. The rhythm, martial and familiar, made her sigh with relief. Pushing her blankets aside, she slid from the bed and peeked out into the hallway. She could see the golden light of a candle dancing in the stairway, just out of sight.

“Alexander?”

Sure enough, his distinctive profile emerged at the head of the stairs. He looked pale in the candlelight, his hair and clothes sodden from the rain. His breath sounded heavier than usual from the stairs. A smile brightened his face, though, the corners of his eyes bunching. “My beloved Betsey.”

“You’re soaked,” she said. “Did you take the wagon all the way from the city?”

“I wanted to be home.” When she sighed at him, his smile widened. “Would you have rather I stayed in town? Didn’t you miss me at all?”

“You know I did,” she said, stepping closer to pull him into an embrace. She’d been frantic with worry over him through his whole trip up to Albany. An attack of stomach spasms had made him so ill and weak before he left he could hardly sit up, and his letters home to her had made it clear he’d remained under the weather for the duration of his travels. Having him back safe in her arms released a knot of anxiety she’d been carrying in her chest. “I always want to be with you. But I’d just as soon have you warm and dry, especially when you’ve been sick.”

“I’m better now,” he said.

She leaned back to scrutinize his face, then gave him a disbelieving look. “Are you?”

“Mostly,” he amended. “So long as I don’t eat anything.”

And he wondered why she worried over him. Shaking her head, she leaned up to give him a kiss. She could feel the damp from his clothes soaking into her nightgown where they were pressed together. “You need to change. You’ll catch your death in those wet things.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

She stroked a hand over his cheek, a hint of rough stubble scratching lightly at her palm. “I’ll go fetch you a towel and some tea. That should help get some warmth back into you.”

“What ever would I do without you, my angel,” he whispered near her ear, stealing another kiss before pulling away, surrendering the candle to her as he did.

She hurried down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen. Efficiently setting the kettle to boil, she pulled some towels from the linen closet and started to set up a tray to bring up to him. He must have spent the better part of the day traveling, she guessed, which meant he likely hadn’t eaten much, if anything. Some bread and cheese joined the pot of piping hot chamomile tea, all simple fare for his delicate digestion.

Giggles and soft chatter carried down from the second floor as she made her way back to him. Though the children ought to have been asleep, she couldn’t help smiling at their joyous sounds. The whole house had a heartbeat when Alexander was at home, a thrum of life that only came with his presence no matter how many visitors, cheery games, and silly stories tried to fill the void he left.

“And then we went down to the dock with our fishing poles,” she heard William saying breathlessly, no doubt trying to cram in a report of every moment his father had missed. Candlelight spilled out of the boys’ bedroom at the end of the hall.

She placed the tray on the bedside table of the master bedroom and looked in vain for Alexander’s wet clothing. He must not have changed before waking up the little ones, she realized with a heavy frown. Laying the towels on the bed, she started for the boys’ bedroom.

“I shot a duck with your hunting rifle, Papa,” Jamie interrupted William, voice filled with pride. “We had it for dinner last night. Mr. Morton went out with us, and Mama said I could use it if I was careful—”

“Papa, Papa,” William insisted, barreling over Jamie’s story. Eliza paused in the doorway and saw William had attached himself to Alexander’s hip, squeezing him tight in an embrace. “I caught a really big fish, Papa. The biggest ever.”

“That’s wonderful, Jamie,” Alexander said.

“That fish was tiny,” Johnny contradicted William at the same time, staring jealously at his younger brother from his bed. “Alex told you it was so small you could have used it for bait.”

“You’re supposed to embellish, John. That’s the fun of a fish story,” Alexander said, good humor infusing his voice as he hugged William to him with one arm.

“Hi Mama,” Alex said, looking around his father to her.

Alexander looked around and gave her a sheepish smile. “I was only going to poke my head in. They were already awake, I swear.”

“The rain is loud,” William said, by way of explanation.

“I know,” Alexander agreed, swinging William up into his arms to the boy’s great delight. “Much more of it and I would have been able to swim home.”

“Will you tell a story, Papa?” Johnny requested, hugging his knees up to his chest as Alexander placed William back on his bed.

“Yeah, a story!” William agreed, bouncing excitedly on his mattress.

“Papa needs to change out his wet clothes,” Eliza said, “Or he’s going to catch cold.”

“I’ll tell a story tomorrow,” Alexander promised, kissing William on the forehead and moving over to Johnny to kiss him as well.

“You’ll have to tell two stories,” Johnny said. “If you make us wait, you’ll owe interest.”

Alexander gave a snort of amusement even as he nodded, glancing over at her in shared mirth. “All right then, two stories.” He finished kissing the boys good night, and said as he tapped the door closed, “Good night my little lambs.”

“Night, Papa,” came back in a responding chorus.

“I owe them interest,” Alexander said sotto voce as they moved back towards the master bedroom, his chest vibrating with silent laughter.

“He’s definitely your son,” she said, grinning as well.

His laughter mixed with a rough cough as he headed for the dressing room, plucking up a towel from the bed and peeling off his coat as went.

Her smile dimmed at the sound. “I told you to change right away,” she scolded gently.

“You think I caught a chill in the intervening five minutes?” he asked, amusement still audible.

She rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her from the dressing room. Pouring out his tea for him, she said, “I brought you up some things, when you’ve finished changing.”

“Is one of them a new digestive system?”

She smiled wryly and shook her head. “Alas, no.”

“Disappointing.”

“How did your arbitration go?” she asked.

He grunted and muttered something about childish nonsense. That well, then. He gave another cough and emerged in his nightshirt, ruffling the towel over his now loose hair. “What’d you bring me?”

“Tea, bread, and some cheese.” He wrinkled his nose. “You need to eat. And I don’t like the sound of that cough. I really wish you’d waited until tomorrow to come home.”

He sighed as he sat heavily on the bed. “I wanted my own bed.”

“The bed in town is yours, as much as this one.”

“It’s not my bed if you’re not in it,” he retorted.

“You’re immensely frustrating,” she said, kissing the top of his head. “But you’re cute.”

He smiled smugly.

She handed him the tea, and sat beside him while he drank and made an effort on the food. When he coughed yet again, she rubbed a hand over his back. He’d just barely recovered from being ill; she hated to think he’d contracted something else on his travels. “How long have you been coughing?”

“I don’t know.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I feel like I’m falling apart in my old age.”

“Your old age? You talk like you’re a hundred.”

“I feel like I’m a hundred.”

There was a slump to his shoulders she hadn’t noticed until now, a thinly veiled melancholy appearing in his eyes. He’d written to her once that he felt a more than usual gloom at the bottom of his soul,1 and the poetic phrase had stuck in her mind. However outwardly cheerful he appeared, a latent sadness lurked within him, and only seemed to grow as time rendered it’s blows upon them.

She scooted backward on the bed to kneel behind him. His white shirt was damp from his skin, translucent enough that she could see some of his darker freckles through the thin material. She traced her fingers across his back in familiar constellations: a diamond over his left shoulder, a castle turret over his right shoulder blade, a strangely shaped key along his spine. She’d memorized those patterns in the earliest days of their marriage, gazing at his body with sleepy wonder the way she’d gazed at clouds as a young girl.

He melted under her touch.

“Has Phil been weened?” he asked, eyelids drooping.

“Yes,” she said. Her fingers went to his hair as he pushed backwards and sideways, pinning her down against the pillows with his head pressed to her sternum. She’d been too sore for him to lie like this while she was nursing Phil, but it had always been his favorite position, offering, as he phrased it, a sweet asylum from care and pain.2

He relaxed against her and hummed with contentment.

“I planted the apple trees like you asked,” she said.

“Hopefully they won’t have floated away,” he quipped.

“And Tuff finished the temporary fence.”3

He yawned. “We’ll walk over tomorrow and take a look, if the rain lets up.”

The wind howled eerily over the general roar of the rain, knocking the shudders together as it beat against the house. The whole second floor swayed under the force. Alexander must have felt her tense, because he shifted his head to press a kiss to the underside of her jaw.

“Not to worry, my love. Just the wind. It’s no match for our house.” He always spoke of the Grange with such pride, she considered, as though he’d laid each brick and beam with his own two hands.

“No,” she agreed, gathering him closer to her. “No match at all.”

Despite the mighty gale, the shudders held fast and the walls stood firm, keeping the storm at bay.

#hamilton fanfic #hamliza #alexander hamilton #eliza hamilton #alexander hamilton jr.#james alexander hamilton #john church hamilton #william s hamilton #hamilton family fluff #short and sweet

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