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hollyethecurious · 2 months ago

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CS AU: Sleeps Ten, My Ass (2/2)

Summary: It's become tradition for Emma Swan to spend the holidays with her brother, their cousins, and their families. This Christmas was no different. The group booked a four night stay at a cozy mountain cabin to celebrate. The listing said it sleeps ten, but upon arrival they discover a small issue. The listing was wrong and now Emma and Killian Jones, the only two single people within their group, have to spend the next four nights sharing a bed. Fortunately... they've shared a bed before.

A/N: @eastwesthomeisbest I'm sorry this Part Two took a little longer to get to you than I'd planned, but I hope you'll find it worth the wait! Again, it was lovely being your CS Secret Santa!! I hope you have a wonderful 2025!!

For the rest of my readers, I started over with my Curious Crew Tag List (which I typically do at the first of the year). Although I'm pretty sure I've added everyone who told me to date that they wished to be added, if I missed you (SORRY) or you wish to be added, please let me know!!

Thanks to @kmomof4 for looking this over for me and to the @cssecretsanta2020 for once again hosting a fantastic event. Side note, this fic also completes my Only One Bed: Holiday Edition square for the CS Winter Bingo!

Rated E / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Part One

Part Two

“Merry Christmas!”

Emma clinked her mimosa against the glasses of her family and friends then settled onto the sofa next to her brother. Taking a sip of the bubbly beverage, she perused the room and let the early morning alcohol warm her from the inside as the fireplace beside her took care of the outside.

Much as Killian had done for her last night.

Shaking off that thought - and the remnants of the dreams she’d had where he’d kept her warm in other ways - Emma tucked her legs beneath her and gave Liam her attention as he passed out the gifts.

The couples tended to exchange gifts with one another in private before they met as a group, and Emma imagined this year was no different. The gifts Liam was handing out were the ones each of them had brought for a specific member of their group. Every Thanksgiving they drew names at random so each person only had to buy something for one other person. Then, Christmas morning, they would all open their gifts and reveal who had bought for whom.

Emma was grateful that she did not have to buy something for everyone, but she did not enjoy the fact that they opened the gifts one at a time while the rest of the group watched, making the person unwrapping the center of attention.

Well, the person unwrapping and the person who had gifted it.

“David, I love it!” Elsa praised with a laugh, holding up the lightweight sweatshirt for everyone to see.

Printed across the front in bold lettering, it read: No. I don’t need a coat. The cold doesn’t bother me.

“That’s perfect,” Liam chortled, already tearing his gift open.

And around the room they went. After Elsa was Liam, then Kristoff, then Anna, who Emma had drawn and gifted a pair of boots she’d known her cousin had been wanting. When Anna was finally done gushing over them, Emma began to open her gift.

“So… who will I be thanking for this…” She’d gotten the rest of the paper off and the lid to the box open when her words fell away as she looked over the myriad of items within.

“It’s a, uh...” Killian cleared his throat and pawed at the patch of skin behind his ear as he went on to explain. “It’s a sort of… winter stake-out care package, I guess is what you’d call it.”

Emma began lifting the items out of the box as Killian described them and the thought process behind his selecting each one.

“I’d noticed earlier this month when we all got together for that holiday festival that you needed a new beanie,” he said as she slipped the hunter green beanie onto her head and then pulled out a pair of soft gloves. “Now, I know you don’t tend to wear gloves on a stake-out because they get in the way of you taking photos or making notes on your phone, but with these you can slip the individual fingertips off so your hands can stay warm while you still have use of your finger pads.”

Emma tested them out whilst he explained their function, loving the ease with which she could quickly bare her thumbs and fingertips. They would certainly come in handy, as would the next item.

“A portable electric kettle,” Killian informed the group when more than one of them had murmured an inquiry about the item in question. “You just add water and plug it into the cigarette lighter in your vehicle and it’ll boil in less than 90 seconds. It also serves as a thermos once you’ve heated the water.” Killian lifted his chin in a pointed gesture and added, “There’s some hot cocoa packets and instant coffee in there as well.”

“This is…” Emma began, somewhat at a loss of what to say.

“Do you like it?”

Emma’s eyes jumped to Killian’s which were filled with a hesitant anticipation; his brows furrowed as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“I do,” she answered, smiling softly at him. “This was all so thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, Swan,” he replied, a bright smile adorning his lips as he let out a heavy breath of relief.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mary Margaret elbow David in the ribs. No doubt it was an attempt to keep whatever snide comment he had at the ready about her occupation from falling out of his mouth. Emma knew her brother did not approve of her line of work. In truth, most of them didn’t. The only one who never gave her a hard time about it, who never questioned her abilities or capability, who only ever asked about it out of genuine curiosity and interest, and without an ulterior motive to somehow diminish her success or exaggerate the dangers, was Killian.

Emma tried to focus on the remaining gifts being opened by the rest of their group, but her mind kept circling back to her own. The way Killian had noticed the state of her beanie and how he inherently knew and understood the reason why she tended to not wear gloves, despite her having the opposite reaction to the cold from her cousin.

The cold did bother her. It always had.

The contrast of her and Elsa’s response to it had always been a source of amusement within their circle. As evidenced by David’s gift to Elsa and past comments made regarding the issue. It struck Emma, in that moment, that Killian had never taken her objection to the cold lightly. From the beginning, he had always made sure she was comfortable. Warm. Content.

Like last night. Like many times before. Like with his gift. Making sure she’d be warm and comfortable during the long, wintery nights whilst on a stake-out. The way he’d made sure she was warm that night. The night in the Caribbean when a cool ocean breeze had met her damp skin - sweat soaked from dancing in a crush of people - and she’d shivered, her slip of a dress, which left little to the imagination, unable to combat the chill as goosebumps erupted over her entire body.

She could still feel the soft fabric of Killian’s jacket around her shoulders, the warmth it transferred from his body to hers, his scent lingering on the collar and intoxicating her sinuses in the same way the rum had infused their blood. The memory of the heat of his hand, pressing against the small of her back as he walked her to her cabin made Emma shift in her seat, as did the whisper of his hot breath against her neck when she recalled the words he’d murmured into her ear.

“I’ll keep you warm, love. Just say the word and I’ll make you burn until morning. It would be both our pleasure, I swear it.”

He had been good to his word.

So, so good.

“Who's ready for breakfast?”

Mary Margaret’s inquiry, which signaled the end of the gift giving portion of the day, shook Emma from her thoughts. Her highly inappropriate thoughts. Thoughts that had caused her cheeks to grow hot and blush pink; a fact she hoped no one had noticed.

“You look a bit flushed, Swan,” Killian commented on their way to the dining room - much to Emma’s mortification. “I guess my gifts are doing their job.”

Unable to meet his eye, Emma swiped the new beanie off her head and peeled the gloves off her hands. “Yep. I’m nice and toasty now. Thanks.”

“Anytime, love,” he replied in a deep, quiet timbre. Was she imagining the mixture of promise and longing in his words? Was he merely being his usual cheeky self, or was he reminding her of all the ways they could produce heat together… and his willingness to explore them with her?

“Who needs a refill?” Elsa offered, holding up the bottle of champagne and the pitcher of orange juice.

“Me!” Emma responded, hurrying towards the island with her champagne flute and receiving the first of many, many refills she’d imbibe that day.

~/~

This was a bad idea. No, it was a great idea, but it was also, potentially, a very, very bad idea.

It had been Anna’s idea. Which wasn’t the reason it was a bad one. It was actually a really good one. After a long day of cooking and drinking and eating and games and drinking and cleaning and drinking, her cousin had suggested they end the evening with a soak in the hot tub.

Which was a terrific idea, except… wearing nothing but her bikini, in a hot tub, with Killian Jones, also in his swimsuit, with his hair curling from the steam and water droplets clinging to his chest hair and pooling in the hollow of his throat while she - and the rest of them - continued to polish off the bottles of champagne that never seemed to end was a very, very bad idea.

But when had a bad idea ever stopped her before?

Especially when said bad idea had actually crossed her mind days before when she’d packed her bag. More specifically, the tiny, red, string bikini she’d worn during their cruise vacation. But no, she absolutely did not choose to pack this particular bikini because she remembered the look on Killian’s face and the hunger in his eyes when he saw her in it the first time on the pool deck. The same hunger that was threatening to devour her from a darkened, forget-me-not gaze across the hot tub.

Okay, maybe she did pack this particular bikini on purpose with this particular scenario in mind.

The idea wasn’t the only thing that was bad. Emma was also being bad. Very, very bad. And she wanted to do bad things. Very, very bad things with the man she found herself alone in the hot tub with after all their family and friends had decided to turn in about an hour after they’d first all got in.

“D’you wanna stay inna bit longer or turn in,” Killian asked with a heavy tongue from all the alcohol he’d consumed over the course of the day.

The same amount that was currently coursing through her veins and causing her to want to act on her very, very bad ideas.

“Prolly should turn in,” she replied in an equally tipsy tone. “M’ry Marget wants to head out early for after Kissmas shopping.”

Another loathsome tradition, but one Emma complied with for her sister-in-law’s sake. She wasn’t much for bargain hunting, but she knew what the bonding time together meant to the woman who had married into a sisterhood (despite Elsa and Anna actually being Emma’s cousins) after being an only child all her life and an orphan for the greater part of it.

“Right then,” Killian said, standing from where he’d been lounging in the corner and offering her a hand up. “We should get you to bed, love.”

Taking his hand, Emma stood, then immediately lost her footing and fell into his wet, firm chest. His arms circled her waist, his inebriation making him a bit clumsy and the slickness of their skin causing one of his hands to inadvertently land a bit too low. Palming her ass cheek may have been an accident, but the way his grip tightened, his fingers digging into her skin as he prompted her hips forward was not.

Nor was the way she responded, bringing herself flush against him as their lips, teeth and tongues met with fervor. He groaned into her mouth when she raked her nails down his back, then reached up and wrapped his other hand around the back of her neck.

“I want you,” he breathed, the much needed air secondary to the words he seemed desperate to convey.

“I want you, too,” she told him before suddenly finding herself in his arms, being carried out of the hot tub and into the cabin. After setting her down by the dying embers of the fire, he grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it around her.

“I’m gonna shut off the hot tub and close things up,” he informed her. “Wait for me in our room?”

Emma nodded, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she headed for the stairs. Glancing back over her shoulder, she giggled at the way he hurriedly - and drunkenly - took care of the tasks so he could follow after her. He didn’t keep her waiting long. No sooner had she finished drying off - still clad in her bikini, so not completely dry - and taking her hair down from the high bun she’d pulled it into so it would stay out of the water, than he came through the door like a man on a mission.

His mission, it seemed, was to pick up where they’d left off. In less than a second she was back in his arms, their hands indulging in the vast expanse of exposed skin while their mouths fought to devour the other.

“You’ve no idea what seeing you in this bikini does to me,” he growled against her lips, his fingers toying with the knotted strings tied at her back.

Reaching between them, Emma cupped his hardness through the thin, damp fabric of his trunks and hummed into his mouth before murmuring, “Actually, I think I do.”

“We’re drunk,” he stated, pulling back slightly while his hands gripped her hip and grazed her back.

“W’are,” she slurred, flicking her gaze up to his. “Your point?”

“We were drunk last time, too,” he reminded her, sloppily. “I’ve always regretted that.”

“Regretted it?”

“Not what we did,” he clarified, his fingers brushing up her side, over the back of her shoulder, then back down her arm. “I regret I wasn’t in complete control of my faculties when I took you. That the details of you, naked and quivering beneath me, are hazy in my memory because of the alcohol clouding them.”

Emma cupped his length harder, pulling a grunt from the depths of his chest and causing his eyes to slip shut as his lips parted in pleasure. “Will that regret keep you from taking me again?” she asked, kneading the underside of his balls with her fingertips. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she gripped his earlobe between her teeth, eliciting a sharp intake of breath that interrupted the moans vibrating up his throat. “Will that regret keep you from allowing me the pleasure of being taken?”

Killian jerked his head away, her teeth scraping against the lobe of his ear. A growl rumbled in his chest as he pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes dark and piercing despite the alcohol hooding his gaze.

“Absolutey the fuck not,” he declared in a tone that curled her toes and nearly made her knees give out.

With a series of sharp tugs, he undid the knots that had kept her bikini top secured, then tore the flimsy piece of fabric from her breasts so his mouth and hands could replace it. Clutching his head to her chest, Emma gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist when he managed to lift her, one handed, so he could carry her to the bed. He probably would have deposited her on the mattress with more finesse had he been sober, but Emma wasn’t complaining, not when he sank to his knees at the end of it and began divesting her of her bikini bottoms with his teeth.

She wasn’t sure whether she said them out loud, but the last coherent words to flow through her consciousness before his tongue began its assault on her sex were, we really ought to do this sober at some point.

~/~

“Got our to-go coffees!”

Emma groaned, her head resting against her arms which were crossed on top of the table they’d just finished having breakfast on. If you could call a slice of dry toast breakfast, that is.

She really shouldn’t have drank so much the day before.

She hated to think how much worse her hangover would be if, after their… relations, Killian hadn’t insisted they both take an aspirin and chase it with a large glass of water before crashing.

Yet another thing to be grateful to Killian Jones for.

And he had given her many, many things to be grateful for last night.

Of course, she’d given him her fair share as well.

Not that she should be thinking about any of that now, especially when thinking in general was causing her head to pound.

“Here,” Elsa said, prompting Emma to sit up and take the to-go cup being offered to her. “I slipped a little hair of the dog in it for you.”

Emma glanced down to where Elsa was brandishing the flask she had tucked away in her purse, a very Jones-esque smirk pulling at her lips.

“Your brother-in-law is a bad influence,” Emma chortled, then winced at the way the action made her stomach gurgle.

Elsa laughed and stood, prompting the rest of the table to follow. The four women made their way out of the diner and towards the shops that were just beginning to open for the after Christmas sales. Emma took a large gulp of her doctored coffee, willing it to sustain her these next few hours. She was gonna need all the help she could get.

“Emma,” Elsa said quietly, as they milled around the third - or was it the fourth - shop of the day.

When Emma glanced over at her, Elsa tilted her head towards the corner, indicating a more private place to chat, and Emma, curious, followed her cousin.

“What’s up?” Emma asked, noting the discomfort and hesitation Elsa was struggling with.

“It’s just…” Elsa began, tentatively. “I know you were joking before, when you said Killian was a bad influence, but…”

“But?”

Elsa’s cool blue eyes locked onto Emma’s. She knew that look. It was the same look David would give her when he was about to go all I’m-telling-you-this-for-your-own-good, trust-me-I-know-what-I’m-talking-about, slightly insufferable, older brother on her.

“He isn’t a bad guy.”

Stunned, Emma blanched and assured, “I know that.”

“I mean,” Elsa continued. “I know David thinks he has a reputation of being a ladies’ man, and has written him off as a ‘bad boy’, but Killian isn’t actually like that.”

“Okay,” Emma drawled, suddenly very uncomfortable with where this conversation might be going. “Why are you tell--”

“Because… He talks about you all the time,” Elsa told her. There was something in her tone that alerted Emma to the fact that her words might be considered a betrayal, but she’d decided to place her loyalties with her cousin rather than her brother-in-law. “He asks about you when it’s been awhile since we’ve all gotten together. I really… I really think he has a thing for you, and I wouldn’t want any misconceptions to get in the way of you possibly--”

“Elsa, stop.”

Emma couldn’t listen to anything more her cousin had to say. It was too much. Too much to hope that this… whatever it was between her and Killian, was more than some ‘dalliance’. More than an itch he felt the need to scratch or some challenge he wanted to conquer.

More than just another notch on his bedpost.

“Look,” she said, her tone not quite as snappy as it had been. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you don’t have to defend Killian to me. I know he’s a decent guy, and I…” Emma wasn’t sure what else to say without giving away her feelings, something she was barely ready to do with herself, and nowhere near ready to admit to anyone else.

“Right,” Elsa said, letting Emma off the hook. “Well, I’m glad we got that sorted. I just… Now that Liam and I are married, the Jones brothers are a permanent fixture in our lives and I--”

“I know,” Emma interjected, wishing to end the awkward conversation. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Elsa asked, stepping a bit closer. “Emma, Killian isn’t going anywhere. I know you keep your guard up because you’re afraid of being wrong about him, but… give him a chance? I really think he just might surprise you. In the best way.”

Elsa’s words lingered in Emma’s mind for the rest of the day, as did nearly every interaction she’d ever had with Killian over the past several years. If what Elsa had said was true, that Killian had genuine feelings for her, then why hadn’t he ever made a move?

Granted, in the early years of Elsa and Liam’s relationship, he only came around a couple of times, but he had been a solid member of their group for at least the past two. Yet, he’d never given her any indication of being serious about her. Sure, he flirted and made suggestive comments and did outrageous things with his eyebrows and tongue, but he did that with everyone, right? Even David and Kristoff.

He didn’t have their preferred drink at the ready when they inevitably showed up late, though. Nor did he buy them thoughtful gifts that affirmed and supported their chosen profession. He also did not gravitate towards the rest of them like he did her. And she to him.

He didn’t look at any of them the way he looked at her. In fact… She could not recall a single time they’d been together when she’d seen him look at another woman that way. Not even on the cruise when there had been no shortage of beautiful women in revealing, eye-catching outfits. Not even when those women had come onto him, slipping their room numbers, phone numbers, and who knows what else into his pocket.

Surely, given the fact that he was gorgeous and charming and sexy as hell - don’t get her started on the accent - and had women throwing themselves at him, he had no trouble keeping his date book full and his bed warm. It’s not like he’d been pining after her all this time.

Right?

~/~

The ladies got back to the cabin later than they’d planned. Initially, the group was going to make do with the leftovers for dinner, cleaning out the fridge and making sure nothing went to waste before checking out the next day. However, the shopping and bonding and girl-time had led to them informing the guys that they’d be dining out instead and to not wait up.

Emma - despite the internal turmoil and lingering questions her conversation with Elsa had left her with - had actually enjoyed the day with her cousins and sister-in-law. So much so that it might have been her idea to ditch leftovers with the gents and treat themselves to a lovely meal at the bistro they’d walked by several times during their shopping ventures through the town.

Was a small part of that suggestion due to the fact she wasn’t ready to face Killian?

Yup. Absolutely. 100%

There was no putting it off any longer, though. Despite their insistence that the men should not wait up for them, they had. Because, of course they had.

After a brief recap of the day and a run down of what would need to be done in the morning before they checked out of the cabin, the group dispersed, heading to their respective rooms and turning in for the night. Emma glanced at Killian, whom she’d been avoiding making eye contact with, and could see the same uncertain, hesitant, bracing-for-what-may-come-next demeanor she knew she’d walked into the cabin with.

Making her way into their room, she noted how he’d made the bed and picked up their discarded suits that had still littered the floor when she’d left early that morning. She swallowed heavily at the memory of her quickly quieting her alarm and getting ready - queasy and heavy-headed - as silently and stealthily as possible as not to wake him and force an interaction. What had it been like for him to wake up alone? Had he been plagued by thoughts and memories and questions all day like she had? Eager to see her and discover what it all meant whilst also willing to allow the hours to drag on and avoid having to face a reality that may not meet hopeful expectations?

The door softly snicked closed, the air growing heavy and charged as tense anticipation palpated throughout the room.

“Swan,” Killian began, his voice gentle but resolved as he hovered by the door, giving her as much space as he could within the privacy of their room. “I know talking about last night is probably the last thing you wish to do, but I really think, given that it’s happened twice now, that we really ought to dis--”

“You’re right,” she agreed, cutting him off. “I think we need to talk about it.”

Killian balked. That was clearly not the response he’d been prepared to receive from her. “You do?”

“Yeah,” she said, wetting her lips and shuffling her feet against the carpet, her gaze turned downward as she slipped her hands into her back pockets. “I’ve, uh… I've been thinking about it all day. I mean…” she paused, her eyes closing briefly at how that statement could be misconstrued, even if the presumption wouldn’t be completely off base. “I’ve been thinking about us all day.”

“Me, too,” he replied with understanding, no hint of teasing or suggestive provocation in his tone.

Emma lifted her gaze and met his eyes. He was looking at her as one would a cornered animal, cautious and careful of making any sudden movement that might frighten the creature away.

“Actually,” she continued, her heart thumping wildly in her chest as she gathered the courage to make her next confession. “I’ve been thinking about us since that night on the ship.”

“Aye,” he breathed out on little more than a whisper. “Me, too.”

With her hands still tucked away in her pockets, she dipped her gaze down to her feet once more and said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he replied without hesitation.

It took her a moment to get over her own.

“The other night,” she began, haltingly. “When you implied that you didn’t share your bed often enough to develop a preference on which side of the… I know it’s none of my business, but…”

“But?”

Flicking her gaze to his once more, she took a breath and asked, “How often is not often enough?”

Killian reached up and scratched behind his ear; a usually endearing tell of his, but one that had her stomach churning at that moment.

“I, uh… actually…” He cleared his throat and cast his gaze aside, though he did throw a furtive glance her way as he answered, “This past year I’ve only shared my bed with one person.”

“Oh,” Emma replied, her heart sinking a bit. “Can I ask who?”

Killian’s head snapped back towards her, a look of amused confusion on his face. His expression softened and he closed the space between them, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw as he said, “Don’t you know, Emma… It’s you.”

“What?” she exhaled, stupidly. “What do you mean… me?”

“I haven’t been with another woman since last Christmas when you kissed me beneath the mistletoe.”

Emma knew her mouth was hanging open. She knew she must have looked - in his words - absolutely gobsmacked. “B-But that was…” she stuttered, recalling the moment he was referring to. “That was just a silly, little peck on the lips because Elsa had hung it over the bar station and caught us standing there. It was hardly even a kiss.”

“Perhaps not to you,” he said with a tinge of hurt in his voice. “But it was to me.”

Dropping his hand he took a small step back and Emma instantly regretted making it seem as though the kiss hadn’t been a big deal. In truth, she’d had to convince herself for months afterward that it wasn’t.

“But it wasn’t just the kiss,” he continued. “It’s what the kiss exposed.”

Emma felt her breath hitch at the way he was looking at her now: vulnerable, unguarded, and - to use the word he’d just uttered - thoroughly exposed.

“Which was?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and a longing took over in his forget-me-not depths. “That you’re it for me, Swan. I…” Boldly, he approached her again, his words and expression leaving no room for doubt as to his sincerity. “There’s no one else. I don’t want anyone else. You’re the one I want.”

“Why… Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked, the sound of her heart thundering in her ears, her chest rising and falling a bit too rapidly.

He cocked his head to one side, an uncomfortable expression taking hold of his features as he reminded her, “At the time, you were with that Walsh bloke, and despite my dislike of the fellow, it seemed bad form to make heartfelt declarations whilst you were in a relationship.” Running a hand through his hair, he exhaled heavily and added, “When it did, thankfully, end, although his timing was rubbish, leaving you high and dry on Valentine’s Day, you seemed a bit… put off by the idea of, well, all men.”

“Right,” she said, her cheeks flushing hot at the reminder. “My rant at the pub about how all men are bastards and how I was vowing to live a celibate life from then on.”

“Aye,” he chuckled. “Didn’t seem like the right time to suggest we start… anything.”

“So,” she said, understanding why he’d taken a step back. “You gave me some space.”

“I thought it best to give it time. Let you heal. Remind yourself that, though the wanker had broken your heart, at least that meant it still worked.”

“And then,” she said, prompting him to continue. “The cruise.”

“Aye, the cruise,” he parroted, swallowing hard. “Liam and Elsa’s wedding, both of us in the wedding party, spending all that time together, flirting, connecting. I thought… I thought, perhaps, it was finally my chance. Our chance. We had that amazing night together. Not just the sex, but everything else that had led up to it. And then…”

“And then, I metaphorically ran for the hills the next morning.”

Killian dropped his head, his shoulders tense as he drew in a deep breath. “I was afraid that I may have taken advantage of--”

“No, Killian,” she said, cupping his cheek and urging him to look at her. “We went over that the next day. You didn’t take advantage of me. At least, not anymore than I took of you. That wasn’t why I--”

“I know, love,” he murmured. “I know you weren’t ready. You were still getting over--”

“No, I wasn’t,” she told him. “I got over Walsh a long time ago, I just…”

“What?” he asked, his eyes flicking between hers. “You just what, Swan?”

A contrite expression pulled at her brows and she dropped her hand to his chest as she confessed, “I didn’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost. I didn’t want to be some conquest.”

“Oh, Emma,” he whispered, gathering her in his arms. “You are not some conquest. Not to me.”

He held her for several beats of their hearts, his face nuzzling the top of her head. “Ever since that night, I have waffled between the desire to respect your wishes, and the urge to fight for what I want.” Pulling back, he gazed down at her and professed, “I’m done waffling. I want you, Emma. I want to be with you. I want to pursue you, and woo you, and court you in all the ways you ought to be.” Bringing his hand up, he caressed the side of her face with the backs of his fingers and murmured, “But only if you want that as well. Whatever we become is as much up to you as it is to me.”

“That all sounds good to me,” she said, pulling a deep chuckle from his chest, and they both smiled at one another, basking in the joy of the moment.

A joy that transitioned as they stood there, lightly caressing the other, breathing the other in, and gazing into each other’s eyes. Eyes that were darkening and becoming more hooded and intense as the atmosphere began to electrify around them.

When their lips met, it wasn’t in the chaotic and frenzied way they had in the instances before. There was no less passion, no less heat, but the desperation in this kiss was for closeness, intimacy, and not because either of them thought this might be the only time they’d ever get a chance to experience the other in this way.

After a long, thorough, languid exploration of her mouth, Killian’s moved to her jaw, the space below her ear, then down her neck. Emma’s fingers carded through his hair as his tongue mapped the slope of her shoulder, his hand gently pulling at the collar of her shirt to expose a greater path.

“I agree,” he murmured into her skin, his lips applying soft kisses and gentle, sucking pressure to her pulse points as they traveled back up her neck.

“With what?” Emma panted, torn between wanting to bask in this unhurried moment of enjoyment and her eagerness to move things along so they could get to the really good stuff.

“With what you said last night,” he reminded her, pulling his face away from her neck so he could stare down at her with a smoldering gaze of desire. “We really ought to do it sober sometime, and I see no better time than now. Do you?”

“Uh, yeah. No. I mean…” Emma silently cursed herself for sounding like an idiot. Taking a deep breath, she reached down and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, then began lifting it as she replied, “I think so, too.”

Killian raised his arms, allowing her to peel the shirt from his body. His breath visibly hitched beneath her touch as she ran her fingers down the front of his chest; the muscles in his lower abdomen jumping when they reached the top of his jeans where his body hair began to taper into a happy trail. She could feel the heat of his gaze as she loosened his belt, heard the soft gasp that fell from his lips when she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and the groan he let out when she slipped her hand past his boxer briefs to wrap around his hardening, hot, velvety length sent a shiver of wonder down her spine.

“I think,” she whispered in a sultry tone, flicking up her gaze up from beneath her lashes to meet his; her words causing them to open after her actions had clearly made them fall shut in pleasure. “I’ll be the one doing the taking this time.”

A shudder ran through him and his gaze darkened. “As you wish,” he murmured, his timbre low and gravelly and making her want to do all sorts of naughty things to him.

Her hand still wrapped around his cock, she guided him to the edge of the bed and prompted him to sit on the edge as she sank down onto her knees.

“Lie back,” she instructed while working to free him from his jeans and underwear.

“As my lady commands,” he replied, collapsing back onto the mattress, though his head remained lifted so he could watch.

After divesting him of his remaining garments, Emma pulled her hair into a high ponytail. She delighted in the way his body jumped and quivered beneath her touch; her teasing caresses and taunting kisses applied to all the areas except where he’d want them most. Pained pants puffed from his chest and soft whimpers collected in the back of his throat. The cords of his neck strained whenever his head fell back, his eyes following the motion, his lips parted and sticking at the corners whenever his teeth weren’t burying themselves into their soft flesh. When she finally turned her attention to his neglected manhood, his hips jerked off the bed from the feel of her tongue running the length of his cock.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed, his hands balling up the comforter in a white-knuckeled grip.

“Shhhh,” she admonished. “Don’t make me gag you like you had to with me last night.”

The reminder forced a half-growl, half-groan from his chest, but it fully transformed into a moan of pleasurable relief when she took him fully into her mouth.

“Gods above, Swan,” he croaked after several minutes of her working him over, trying to keep his voice down. Trying… and failing. “Fuck!”

With a soft pop, Emma released him and stood.

“Apologies, love,” he whispered in a desperate tone. “Please. Don’t stop.”

“I have no intentions of stopping,” she assured him. “But you clearly need help staying quiet.”

If he had a retort to her statement, it must have been forgotten when she lifted her shirt over her head and then removed her bra. Killian’s tongue slowly dragged across his lips, his eyes intently focused on her as she shimmied out of her own jeans and panties. Her black lace panties that matched her bra; a set, like her swimsuit, she had intentionally packed with him in mind.

Black lace panties that she picked up off the floor and let hang off her index finger as she made her way up onto the bed, mounting him dramatically and straddling his hips.

“Are you gonna be a good boy and keep quiet, or…”

She swung her panties once around her finger. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes trained on the black fabric until it came to a rest, crooked on her finger once more, before they met hers. Emma could see the gears turning in his mind, trying to decide which he’d prefer.

After a deliciously taut moment, he said, “I’ll be good. I promise.”

“Mmmm,” Emma hummed, leaning down so her lips could hover over his. “Good choice.”

She laid her panties on the pillow next to his head as they kissed - just in case. Killian groaned when his tongue ran alongside hers and Emma knew it was because he could taste the brine of his precum still lingering there. When she finally broke off the kiss so she could sit back and position herself over his length, he followed. They both broke the promise of being quiet when he slipped inside her, filling her, stretching her, molding her to him as though they were only ever meant to fit one another.

Rolling her hips, Emma began to move as Killian held her. Murmurs, grunts, staccatoed breaths, sweet nothings, curses, praises, all filled the space between them as their bodies rolled, their hips swiveled, their lips collided, their eyes connected, and their pleasure mounted.

Whenever Emma would arch her back, Killian latched onto her breasts, lavishing them with his tongue and applying sweet torture with his teeth. Torture that reverberated down to her clit, causing it to throb and ache until she couldn’t take it any longer. Pushing Killian back down onto the mattress, she ground down hard against him in an attempt to alleviate the torment. When she felt the damp press of his thumb against her she nearly cried out before remembering herself.

“That’s it, love,” he encouraged, vigorously applying just the right amount of pressure and rhythm to her clit as he shifted beneath her so he could continue to thrust up into her warm, slick center. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. So soft. So wet.” His words became breathier and more strained, his exertions unrelenting as his thumb and cock competed to bring her to completion. “Come for me,” he pleaded, though there was a tone of command that grew more prominent as he repeated them.

“Come for me, love. I want you to come. Need you to come. Come for me, Emma. Oh, Emma. Emma, Emma, My Emma. Come!”

And come, she did.

Hard.

Showing her no mercy, Killian kept pounding into her, his ministrations at her clit sending wave after wave of ecstasy and bone-numbing pleasure through her, making it impossible for her to stay upright. Collapsing against him, she felt his rhythm falter for a few brief seconds when he brought up his knees, giving him the necessary leverage to chase after her into the euphoric abyss she was still tumbling down. The sounds of his desperation panted and grunted and moaned in her ear, until his breath hitched and guttural groanings, deeper than words, reverberated through his chest and stuttered over his lips like his hips did against hers.

Emma wasn’t sure how long they laid there, sated and spent and unbearably content as their bodies cooled and their breaths evened out.

“Do you need to move?” Killian asked, his legs stretching back out as his arms kept her held firmly against him.

“I don’t want to,” she mumbled into the side of his neck. “But I probably ought to.”

During their post-coital cuddling, he’d already begun to soften and slip from her, but the emptiness she felt when he fully left her had them both quickly moving through their aftercare routines so they could be back in the other’s arms, nestled beneath the covers, as quickly as possible.

“Does it all still sound good to you, love?” Killian questioned between the soft kisses he was applying to the back of her shoulder.

“The wooing and pursuing and courting, you mean?” she clarified, sleepily.

“Aye.”

“Mmmm, you bet.”

~/~

“Well, I think that’s everything,” Liam said, tying a knot on the last of the trash bags that needed to be taken out. “Elsa is going over the check-out list one last time, but I think we’ve taken care of everything.”

“I don’t see why we even bothered,” David groused. “It’s not like the owner kept up his end of things.”

“And Elsa will make sure her review reflects that,” Liam assured him.

Emma and Killian exchanged amused glances with one another. Other than the heat going out that one night - which Kristoff had managed to fix the next day - she and Killian had been the only ones truly ‘inconvenienced’ by the misleading information in the cabin’s listing.

An inconvenience she was tempted to leave a five star review for.

Sleeps ten, her ass… and her eternal gratitude.

The End

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

@bluewildcatfanatic @scotchiegirl @jonesfandomfanatic @idristardis @lfh1226-linda

@paradiselady19 @phoenix-untamed @jackieorioncat @tiganasummertree @snowbellewells

@brucethegirl @superchocovian @jennjenn615 @booksteaandtoomuchtv @kmomof4

@the-darkdragonfly @stahlop @zaharadessert @caught-in-the-filter @motherkatereloyshipper

@earanemith @captainodonoghue @jrob64 @djlbg @wyntereyez

@kday426 @gingerchangeling @winterbaby89

#csff #cs ff #csfic #cs fic #cs au #captain swan #csss2024 #cssecretsanta2024 #sleeps ten my ass #words by hollye

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sink-me-in-your-ocean · 1 year ago

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𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

How would the Ghouls (AND Copia) react to seeing you surprise them with lingerie?

Prompt by the miraculous @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus

NSFW/Suggestive below the cut.

Copia:

Blushes profusely

This man is so flustered he can barely form a word, let alone speak a sentence

That doesn’t stop him from acting, though

He puts his greedy gloved hands on your body the second his mind can catch up to what’s happening

He’s torn between a state of disbelief and a state of unholy fuck I need to put my hands on this woman right now or I’ll die

“You are ravishing, cara mia.”

“Grazie mille, Papa.”

“But those straps, are they digging into your skin? I’d be happy to take you out of them.”

“It’s actually surprisingly comfortable.”

“Good, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dying to have you while you wear that.”

Swiss:

Grins at you like a madman when you reveal yourself to him

He tries to hide it but he’s so into it

The fact that you put in all this effort to fasten straps, tie ribbons, and put yourself on such a perfect display has him weak

He has an intense urge to fall to the floor and worship at your feet, as he feels unworthy of such a goddess

“All of this effort, for me? I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised you’d do something like this.”

“Well, it’s not just for me.”

“Hm?”

You produce a long silk ribbon that matches your lingerie, “This is for you. You can unwrap me and then I get to tie you up.”

He groans, “You’re fucking perfect.”

Phantom:

Can’t. Think. Heart. Having. Palpitations.

His dark eyes go so wide as he sees you all dressed up

His jaw is on the floor too

He runs a slightly trembling hand through his thick locks and unashamedly checks you out (not trembling out of nervousness, from sheer excitement)

“Oh, fuck me.”

“That’s the idea.”

“Get over here you little minx, you’re mine, you hear me?”

“Are you going to undress me?”

“You know I don’t have the patience; I’m fucking you in that now.”

Dewdrop/Sodo:

His first thought is to mark you; he is overcome with the need to bite you and suck on your exposed skin immediately

Practically tears out of his own clothes at the sight of you presenting yourself for him

He needs you carnally

He’s fucking feral for you

“You wanted my attention, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Well I’ll give you points for all of this. But I’ll have to punish you too.”

“For what?”

“For walking around wearing this, anyone could have seen you. No, no, I’m not going to be finished with you until you can’t walk, siren.”

Rain:

Has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting out the first obscene thing that pops in his brain

You got him, you got him good

He doesn’t care for surprises but this one is a winner

His eyes can’t drink you in fast enough, flicking his gaze over your breasts, your thighs, and your ass as you turn for him

“Wow.”

“That’s it?”

“I can’t say the other things I’m thinking, I’m pretty sure I’d get arrested.”

“I’ll take ‘wow’ then.”

“Oh you’ll be taking a lot more than that.”

Mountain:

Literally astonished when you show him what you’re wearing

Utterly hypnotized by the curves of your body done up by lace

Hands start twitching like a crazed addict

He needs to touch you

“Get. Over. Here.”

“Right now?”

“Right fucking now. Either that or I come over there and pin you against that wall.”

“Hmmm…”

“The wall it is.”

Cirrus:

Goes from zero to one hundred in a snap

Can’t decide where she wants to look, placing you in front of a floor length mirror for her own pleasure

She is happy to stand back and watch you pose for her

Eventually she gets antsy, fingers tingling with need to touch you

“Need attention, do we?”

“I have some for you too, love.”

“You do?”

“Just for you.” You hand her a black tissue-wrapped package.

“Matching sets? What are we, in a band?”

Cumulus:

Purses her lips in satisfaction

Tries to keep herself from smiling, she’s trained you well

Extra points for you sitting on the floor so submissively

Something inside her calls to put her mouth on you, mark you all over with her dark lipstick

“Stand and me a twirl.”

You oblige her.

“What a good girl. Shall I give you a treat?”

“Yes, please.”

She opens the top drawer of the dresser and starts laying out the treats she plans on using on you. You’ve been good indeed.

Aurora/Sunshine:

Squeals in delight upon seeing you

You’d think it was her birthday the way she reacted to you

That doesn’t stop a mischievous grin from spreading on her face though

She wants to see you put on other things she’s had tucked away for special occasions

“This one is next!”

“Haven't you found your favorite yet?”

“Nope.”

“No?”

“My favorite is you wearing nothing at all, gorgeous, I just wanted to see how many different pairs I could get you to put on before you beg me to take them off you.”

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lostgirl677 · 6 months ago

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Hidden treasure

One-shot

Masterlist

AU imagine where the outbreak never happened.

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Established relationship

FLUFF

Summary: Y/N found something for Daryl in a thrift store. A real priceless treasure.

A/N: I still struggle to write Daryl accurately. Don't hesitate to leave some feedback.

I came back from the thrift store. There, I found a treasure worthy of all the haggling and near fights in the world. All because it was a gift for Daryl. Yeah, I almost threw punches to get that treasure. But if it was for him, I’d snatch it from the Devil’s hands if needed. I knew that the package wrapped in brown paper was the perfect gift.

When I arrived, Daryl was in the garage, working on his bike as usual. Watching him was always a delight: the way his arms flexed, his hands covered in grease, the occasional swear word escaping his lips. I could watch him all day. He suddenly turned his head towards me, catching me staring like a creep. ”Like what ya seein’, darlin’?”, he asked, his southern accent more pronounced with the day's fatigue. I couldn’t help but grin. “Hell yes.” I chuckled as I got closer to him. He snorted and smiled. His smile lit up the room. It was good to see him ditching his signature frown for once. He wiped his greasy hands on an old rag and stood up, towering over me like a mountain of muscles and sweat."Good thing ya ma girl. Else I'd be scared of this sexy stranger drooling and undressin' me with her eyes in my garage" he said, smirking as he snaked his arm around my waist. “Good thing indeed. It would be creepy otherwise.” Then, he pulled me closer and I could smell his scent: pine, leather, sweat and smoke. “How was yer day? Thrift store, right?” he asked me. “Yeah. And I have something for you”, I replied. He raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. “For me? Ya didn’t have to, honey”, he blushed a bit. I smiled again and said “Believe me, I had to. It’s in my car. I’ll be right back”. He reluctantly let me untangle myself from his embrace and I ran to my car with a bounce in my step.

I came back quickly, holding the package. “Here. I hope you’ll like it”. He took it in his hand, looking at me, a bit unsure. “Go on. It won’t bite you” I encouraged him softly. He finally complied. As he unwrapped the package, I bit my lip in anticipation. Inside, he found a vintage leather jacket. “Well, ain’t that somethin’,” he murmured while his hand caressed the worn leather. Suddenly, his eyes widened and became shiny as if he could cry. It was a rare occurrence for a man like him. And I knew exactly why he was about to cry. His hand ran over the embroidered name William Dixon. He looked at me, shaking slightly. “H-how? Where?” he asked with a quiver in his voice, unable to find the right words. “I remember you told me that your grandfather died on D-Day in Normandy, and your grandmother was pregnant at that moment. And she had to sell some stuff to make ends meet. And somehow, it ended up in this thrift store. I found it hidden under a pile of old clothes in the stall. So, when I saw the name, I knew I had to get it for you. I think it wanted to return to its family" He looked like he was about to cry. I could see the tears welling up, and it took everything in him to hold them.

He was still looking at the jacket with reverence due to a relic. Which it was - a precious relic of his family. I gently took his hand to guide him back inside the house, in front of a mirror. “Try it. It looks like it’s your size”. I said softly. He slowly nodded, and I helped him put it on. Indeed, it fitted him like a glove. He looked dashing in it. “Daryl, you’re really handsome in this jacket. I’m sure your grandfather would be happy that his jacket is now yours. He would be proud of you”, I told him softly as I gently put my hand on his arm. He lowered his gaze to look at me in the mirror’s reflection and grunted softly. Even if he didn’t say anything back, I knew he was touched by my words. He just didn’t trust himself with words right now. When he tried to arrange the jacket on his body, something fell from the inside pocket—an old picture. I went to pick it up and showed it to Daryl. It was a slightly damaged black-and-white picture of a beautiful pregnant young woman. She was smiling, a hand on her swollen belly. “Grandma,” he whispered, his voice shattered a bit. “She was beautiful”, I whispered. He simply nodded, his hand running over the picture. “How about we buy a frame and place it somewhere nice?” I asked softly. His blue eyes twinkled, still wet from unshed tears and he said “Yeah. Sounds good.” Then he turned to face me. “I don’t know how to thank ya, Y/N”. I simply smiled. “You don’t have to. I just brought back home something that’s rightfully yours. I love you, Daryl. That’s all that counts for me.” He finally let his tears fall and said in a strangled voice “I love ya too, Y/N”. He then embraced me in his strong arms, his grandmother’s picture still clutched in his hands. I wiped his tears with my thumbs and arranged his hair gently.

Later, I decided to place his grandma’s picture on the small desk in our room. And we hammered a coat hook next to it for the jacket. “Lookin’ good”, he simply told me while placing a kiss on my forehead. “Yeah. Now, your grandma and your grandpa are no longer apart”. He simply smiled. And his smile was worth a thousand words.

#daryl dixon x you #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon #twd imagine #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon imagine #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus imagine #norman reedus #norman reedus x you

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reve-de-sang · 2 months ago

Text

for the Vamptember 12 Nights of Christmas prompt “holiday party”

“Oh my god, Daddy!” Claudia screamed ear-piercingly. (Claudia actually had the potential to cause damage; Louis surreptitiously checked to see if he was bleeding from an ear.)

She thundered down the stairs, eyes locked on the tree through the bannister as soon as her eyeline crossed beneath the first floor.

Vampire children—if there had been any others—got to start Christmas before any other children, they explained to Claudia. Why wait for the clock to strike midnight? Christmas began at sunset on Christmas eve: else how could you wake up from coffin to presents under the tree?

That first year she had been all tentative wide-eyed marvel. The floor around the Christmas tree had been completely covered in presents for Claudia in a radius of over a yard and a half. Unwrapping presents had been a process of hesitancy, building to increasing mania and glee.

This year she raced downstairs starting at mania and glee.

“I think she just made all the other kids in a ten block radius jealous,” Louis chuckled to Lestat as they trailed down the stairs after her.

“As they should be,” Lestat murmured, sliding fingertips down the arm of Louis’s new dark blue striped satin robe. Everyone was still in their sleep clothes, robes, and slippers that had been bought specially for the occasion. It was a party of a sort after all, Lestat observed: they needed to dress appropriately.

Louis and Lestat picked their way over the field of gift-wrapped boxes and packages Claudia had dived into, and settled next to each other on the sofa as Claudia tore through paper and ribbons, screaming with delight.

“She even has my eyes!” Claudia shouted at Louis, waving a porcelain doll that was an exact duplicate of Claudia down to one of her favorite blue dresses.

“But not your volume,” Lestat smiled as he draped an arm along the back of the sofa behind Louis’s shoulders.

She tossed the doll gently into a small mountain of crumpled wrapping paper—“Hey!” Louis laughed—and then she whipped a ribbon off a soft bundle.

“Remind me again how something called an ‘Erector’ is appropriate for our daughter,” Lestat said, eyeing a box in the growing swell of opened toys, clothes, accessories, and diversions.

Louis gave him a smile with his eye roll. “‘Educational, Instructive and Amusing,’” Louis quoted. “I know I’m gonna catch you playing with it, building little models.”

Lestat had leaned in to press his lips to Louis’s ear to whisper something about “playing with it” when Claudia screamed in rapture again, this time at a Bakelite vanity set. “See, I told you she’d like that,” Louis said.

This set off a private betting war on predicting what she would and would not be impressed by.

(x)

#iwtv #interview with the vampire #claudia #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #vamptemberxmas #my fic

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rosedere · 8 months ago

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The Liyue Lotus and the Merchant from Snezhnaya

(Pantalone x Fem! Reader)

MDNI +18

Cw: kidnapping, stalking, non con elements, graphic violence (later chapters), yandere content, pregnancy mentioned, forced marriage, female/ fem aligned Reader, *will update as the series goes on

Cross posted on AO3

Previous Chapter: Lotus in transience

Current Chapter: Communication lost in the mountains (you are here)

Next Chapter: Blizzard; Found

Synopsis: Unfortunately, The Regerator develops a fixation with you while you are working undercover for Yelan. And there’s no one who can get in his way of his prized Lotus.

The parts of me buried underneath

They're glowing, do you see?

I know that you feel me now

No I'm never going down

You didn't hear from Yelan again.

…

It was total static from everyone.

A few weeks into your stay in your pagoda tower was when you had any sort of noteworthy event. Basking in the pouring sunlight from the opening of the balcony from the canopy bed, you only realized you were drifting off to sleep when the soft footsteps from the hallway began to grow louder in volume.

“Lián”

You felt something paper-textured land on your bloated stomach.

Eyes still closed in annoyance, you lifted your arm to shoo Galina away.

“Its from Your beloved~” she added as she sat besides you, pulling away at the curtain to allow more light in.

You only stayed silent, trying to relax into the cool silk pillow you were currently resting on.

“Lián, you've been sleeping a lot lately.”

Galina sighed, holding the back of her hand to your forehead. “Hopefully you didn't catch a cold when you went swimming,” she muttered to herself as she leaned back onto the bed, laying near your feet.

“Fine— let me see.”

Unfurling yourself from the confines of the sheets, you sat up to see a medium-sized box now toppled over onto your side of the bed.

The wrapping on the package was an intricate iridescent blue and white tissue paper encasing the box, topped with a small paper lily.

Carefully unwrapping the top of the bow, the rest of the package fell apart, revealing the contents inside the dark blue box. You reached for the envelope before observing the contents of the delicately wrapped items; the letter was a familiar Snezhnaya envelope you had handled in the past during missions.Delicate as you opened the envelope with your name written on it with a golden fountain dip pen, Piercing the letter with your sharpest nail.

The parchment was cold to the touch, several pages from first glance.

“So what is it, my lady?" Galina perched her hand under her chin.

"Unfortunately, I don't read as fast as Pantalone”

“Lián,

I have finally made it to Snezhnaya. By the time this letter should reach you, I'd have been here already for several weeks.

Thankfully, the… unfriendly gathering has ended sooner than I anticipated. I am currently catching up on certain duties I neglected before I came home.

In the meantime, until I have a certain day of arrival, I sent you some items that reminded me of you, hopefully reaching you along with this letter.

Every day I've been thinking about you, Lián; hopefully Galina and Fedor have been treating you well in my absence. I can't resist letting my mind wander to our first night together.

I can't wait until we are united again so we can share a few more nights like that one, my rooted lotus.

I have more to say and share with you about Snezhnaya, but I have been alerted to some issues involving one of my underlings that I must take care of, so I will leave the rest to your imagination until we both can come together.

The Regerator

You looked over at the gently wrapped items stacked neatly in a pile.

“Hmm, so it appears he could arrive any day now,” Galina mindlessly replied, now propped up on one of the smaller pillows on the bed.

“Any day? How did you get that from the letter?” you asked.

“I just know him; last time he said that he returned a week later,” she turned lying in the bed.

"Hey, did he also leave an extra envelope in there by any chance?”

You carefully laid the blue ink letter on the bedspread as you pulled the items out of the box; some you could immediately guess were clothes, while others felt like they were wrapped in a sturdy paper box.

Thinking that was it, two envelopes slipped out from the bottom.

One was on dark sapphire blue paper, and the other was a dusty violet color.

“Oh! That's it,” she reached over energetically for the dusty violet color before pocketing the other one in her hood pocket.

A smile graced her face as she eagerly opened the letter.

Humming as she read her letter, you noticed the back of the letter had a photograph of something—a few pictures from the thickness you could tell from the shape.

You didn't want to pry, so you returned your attention to the items strewn about now on the bed.

Reaching for a small rectangular one carelessly thrown on top of the several items now forming a small mountain, a silver ink print was on top as you further inspected the gift.

“To moma”

You were about to speak up, but Galina read your mind, grabbing a hold of the box in your hand.

"Sorry, my lady, you had to grab that~ hehe He must have packed them altogether,” she bashfully apologized.

“Ah no, its on me; I shouldn't have just assumed it was mine,” you smiled back at her, watching her handle the gift.

The photos on the back of the letter are now laying facing up on top of the letter as she unwrapped the gift eagerly.

You watched as she pulled the expensive wrapping off, again her mask concealing her face, but you could tell her mood instantly lightened as she held the now unwrapped gift.

“Is that?”

Galina nodded, holding the small statue.

You knew it was an ice creation—some vision holders becoming sculptors using their vision to create material.

But the place that was sculpted was somewhere you had never seen before.

The tall dome-like roofs and a small miniature garden with a snowy lake in front of the palace-like place.

The amount of detail was truly inspiring.

“My daughter... finally got a vision while I was away." Galina smiled, holding the small miniature in her gloved hand.

"She had desperately wanted to become one so she could serve the Tsaritsa”

She held the minature to her chest.

“I miss her so much.”

Galina's finger traced around the little pond that was sculpted into the side of the castle.

“The last time I saw her was when she was only a small toddler, barely able to stand,” she chuckled to herself.

Rolling on her stomach, she placed the minature on the wrapping, looking closer at it from behind.

“She told me in her letter that she will try to become an ice maiden under the tsaritsa as soon as her birthday comes next month.”

She glanced back up at you.

“ah— this might be a bit boring to you, my lady; I apologize once more.”

“No, it's alright, it's just-”

This is going to be awkward…

“Are you really a mother?” You blurted.

Startled by your blunt tone, you covered your mouth as you searched for any amount of offense in your words on her face.

Galina smiled mischievously at you before she rewrapped the small sculpture.

“Three”

“Including my younger sisters, so...”

Ten

Your eyes widen in surprise,thanking your hand for covering your mouth, as it was probably hanging down in shock.

“Its a long story, but im all they have; its why im here with Fedor,” she sighed, reaching for the photographs.

She grabbed the last photo from the back, placing it on your covered lap.

The photo showed three girls in some sort of igloo in the wilderness; the oldest sitting on the left of the embankment looked to be at least sixteen—a young teen—while the other two sitting in the poorly constructed igloo looked to be no older than six.

Galina placed a finger on the oldest one.

“That one is my Victoria,” she pointed to the girl. “She looks more like her… father than I, but she is such a sweet girl.”

She then pointed to the two girls inside the igloo.

“These two are my twins, Brki and Ivanna.”

You looked closer inside the igloo to see the two smiling girls more in detail; their eyes, hair, and body structure were identical.

“I was so lucky to have them; I'm sure they're probably impatiently waiting for my return again,” she smiled, looking back down at the picture.

You watched her fondly touch the small photograph of her children; absorbed in her world that was depicted in the photo.

“I certainly hope I'm not overstepping since... "I'm not a mother and all.” You looked down at your hands before you laid on your side, facing Galina on the bed.

“Why don't you work closer to Snezhnaya instead of being so far from them?��

“If I had my babies somewhere in a region all by themselves, I'd probably lose sleep knowing I was doing such a dangerous job.”

Galina's smile softened as she carefully laid the photo next to the minature.

“I would if I could, Lián.”

“I thought this might have been the trip my Lord Pantalone would have offered to take me and Fedor along back home,” she exhaled.

“But I guess I signed up a week too late to stay; now I work for the Regerator.”

She tucked the letter and photographs inside the wrappings.

“I guess better this way; I'd probably be dead if I worked for the home harbingers like Il Dottore or Coloumbina…” she chuckled half-heartedly. "Ah, you haven't met them yet, but they certainly... are strange,” she smiled to herself.

You smiled back at Galina as she tucked her gifts in her opposite coat pocket.

“I must write my babies a letter before the day ends,” she stretched out onto your bed.

“Hey—can I see what your beloved brought for you this time?”

“Please~” she asked, propping her head up with her hands.

“Sounds fair to me since you shared what you were sent in the mail,” you sluggishly moved back up in a sitting position.

Checking to make sure nothing else was mixed up.

You grabbed the top item; wrapped in a very sturdy tissue-like paper. Gingerly pulled the ribbon on top, making the whole wrapping come off.

“Oh wow, miss Lián! Its so beautiful,” her eyes lit up.

“Err.. but what is it?” You tilted your head.

The sheer cloth was so long that you had to keep unrolling the dark sapphire material at least 30 times until you could observe the full tapestry of cloth.

A white-tinsel lotus design ebbed all around the sheer fabric, reaching the ends of the ground. The horizontals had a very expensive tassel and metal accessories hanging low on the bottom all the way to the top.

"Ah, Miss Lián, that's a...”

Galina stroked her chin in thought for a moment.

“Oh! I remember the Liyue word for it… A veil”

“Like for….” You swallowed thickly. “A bride?”

“Oh no, at least not in our culture it isnt— women of high status wear them to mimic the Tsaritsa's own veil to shield her innocence,” Galina pointed at the fabric.

“If I wasn't so lazy, I'd show you right now how it's worn, but I have a feeling I might know what at least two of the other packages entail.” She glanced over towards the uneven mountain of gifts.

“It certainly is beautiful, but I don't know if I'll be able to wear it in our humid climate,” you sighed.

“You can always weave it into your hair like some of the previous Harbingers and some Harbinger spouses do,” she smiled. "But, to be honest with you, I think he mostly got it for you to wear as a shawl like the ones you adore so much.” Galina lowered her voice.

Letting curiosity get the best of you, the decision to wear the veil was all your brain was telling you to do as you carefully slid out of bed, standing on bare feet as you wrapped the fabric around your gown.

“So it just goes over me?” You questioned now standing next to the long fabric.

"Yup,” Galina quickly responded, looking over at you.

You began to unwrap the veil, opening it up like a bedsheet before placing it on top of your messy hair.

Dropping the veil to the ground, it laid around your feet gracefully, catching the light from outside as you twirled underneath the long fabric.

“Its beautiful.” You touched the inside of the veil, really feeling the soft netted material.

"Oh, but wait until you see the second piece that goes with it,” she chuckled, her belly crawling towards the mountain of presents laying where you had previously disturbed.

She began sorting through the gifts before she settled on the largest one, nestled underneath a few other items.

“Here, try this one.”

You approached with the veil still over your head, grabbing the package, now intrigued.“Id offer to unwrap it for you, my lady, but Id rather not get caught by Fedor,” she scratched the back of her head.

“If you want to, you can,” you held the gift back towards her. “You can be my assistant,” Your veil unintentionally jingled as you held it out to her.

Galina nodded before opening the carefully wrapped present for you.

She went quickly to work as she unwrapped the tightly bound package.

Another heavy-looking garment tightly folded; the white fur was mostly what you identified until you looked closer, realizing it was another long item of fabric.

“This part I'll let you unwrap,” she handed the item to you.

unfolding the very tightly packed item, watching a cascade of snow whites and icy blues sparkle and twinkle back at you.

The top silmy mantle around the collar reminds you of an artic fox; the fur is a second layer underneath the thick peacoat material; the tulle layer underneath acting like a long dress as it also pooled and complimented the robe part of the long splits that rain besides the ribs of the coat.

"Normally, women in snezhnaya also wear a layered robe underneath this coat, just like the Tsaritsa” Galina pointed to the sleeves.

“Im surprised why he bought you these specifically since normally that particular outfit is worn for special occasions.”

“special meaning?” You trailed.

“Like an engagement or being pinned as a harbinger is the one I can think of at the top of my head,” she flicked her eyes towards the wardrobe on the opposite side of the room.

“I would show you Pantalone's, but it seems he took his winter formal coat on business with him,” she looked back at the coat still in your hand.

“He has one identical to that one, but it seems he custom ordered it while he was over there,” Galina sighed, “which is something not anyone is honored to receive from Snezhnayans.”

Astonished, you took a step back as you looked closer at the coat. You realized initially that what seemed to be sleeves was actually more of a split poncho with a lack of a better term. Deciding to try it as well, you opened the front of the insulated coat. The soft mink feeling inside was very warm, and of course it had the quality of something you have never been blessed to wear.

“It's kind of heavy.” You walked towards the end of the ornate gateway leading to the bedroom door, the crystal material catching more light than your veil.

“They certainly are; the more layers, the better, my lady,” Galina watched as you carefully walked back towards the bed.

Sighing, you sat on the edge of the bed before lying back on the bed.

“My lady? Are you okay?” Galina sat up, sitting besides you, where the material cascaded down the tall bed.

“Just a bit winded—I think I just haven't been sleeping well,” you murmured before removing your arms from the sleeves. “I'll be alright once I close my eyes for a moment,” you replied, burying your face into the covers.

“Ah— but do you want to unwrap the rest of your gifts first? It seems there are about four more.” Galina began to neatly stack the few items left on the bed.

“Maybe later—” you yawned.

“My lady, at least let me take your jacket off of you.” Galina fussed as she began to carefully lift you up.

“My lord would kill me if he found out I let you roll around in them,” she began to carefully begin the process of undressing and disasembling your outfit.

“Galina? Are you in here?” Fedor's voice boomed from the walkway outside.

Your cheery guard looked towards the balcony outside; the pyro energy radiating around where Fedor had teleported.

"Ah, one moment—Im undressing our lords, beloved,” she finished unrolling the veil into a neat square on the bed.

“This is an urgent matter, my comrade; a crane has been spotted.”

Galina froze before dropping the fabric on the bed.

She quickly removed your long jacket and laid it on top of the bed, where the items were stacked, before she laid you back into one of the larger pillows on your bed.

“I'm sorry, my lady; I'll dress you properly later.”

“Please stay in your bedroom and do not open any doors until we arrive,” Galina calmly told you.

Your eyes, however, were already closing as you heard Galina and Fedor hurry out of the room before they closed the gate to the balcony.

Silence except for the occasional bird call or sway of wind passing through the bedroom.

As much as your body was dragging you down, however, you knew you had to continue your real mission.

Especially since Pantalone was already getting ready to come back.

Pulling yourself up, you looked around the room you had become accustomed to for the several days you lived here.

Unfortunately, you didn't find much in his various drawers, desks, and vases of scrolls; seemingly, he took everything with him on his business in the ever-frozen wasteland.

Walking over to the bedroom door unshockingly, it was very obviously locked from the outside.

No way out

Leaning against the door, you lazily looked over towards the bathroom.

On one of these absentee days at Pantalones Estate, you were tasked with washing yourself while Galina stepped away to figure out where the smoke in the lower kitchen was from.

You would have started by yourself drying your body off, but you noticed only a few washcloths left.

Sighing to yourself as you sat on the edge of the stone ledge that formed the natural tub, you felt one that was… out of place.

Not in appearance, but the large section of stone was loose.

Assuming it was just a loose stone, you pulled at the slate. A rumble occurred, and a wall was revealed below your feet.

A passage.

You carefully lowered yourself into the earthy passage, leaving barely enough room for one person to squeeze through. Wherever you landed, you were extremely unsure as you reached the end of your descent. The walls were tall; you could feel a draft, but there was no light at all in the room. You cursed yourself for not having a pyro vision as you felt and touched everything until you ran your hands on a switch, the handle protruding in front of you.

Pulling it revealed a network.

Tunnels.

Each leading deeper into the mountain.

Only before you were about to decide which mossy-covered entrance to take, you were alerted by Galina's sing song voice from above.

Today was going to be different.

Grabbing a large stick that was lying in one of the various vases in the restroom, you began your descent once more.

Climbing down, you noticed the lights had been turned off once more. Doing the same as you did the first time you felt up against the natural wall of the cave before you hit the switch from the walls.

The light turning on revealed a much more disturbing scene from the last time you were down.

Dried blood.

Everywhere.

The rusty smell disguises itself under the moist and earthy scent of the cave.

It seemed something got attacked down here.

You carefully tread with bare feet on the earthy stone around the scene before you.

Most of the blood was concentrated in the middle of the cavernous area before a trail led to the utmost left cavern.

Maneuvering quietly, you thanked the archons. Your nausea was at bay for the first time all day, or you'd have surely vomited in the humid cavern.

Thankfully, it seemed the switch's power extended to the cavern, really illuminating the long trail as whoever or whatever carried itself this way.

Finally reaching the back of the long cavern, you found nothing.

Literally, not even a trail of blood remained in the area. no corpse or sign of the person left.

The iron bars surrounded the area.

A makeshift prison.

Chilled, you kept your investigation mode on, examining every rock and iron bar.

But nothing came of the cavern.

Or the one next to it.

It wasn't until you wandered to the last worn path that you heard the familiar breeze of the mountain create a draft as you walked further inside.

Eventually, you took a windy path before the natural sunlight of the sky poured into the passage.

Practically running, you raced towards the opening of the cave. cautiously approaching the edge of the cave, listening for any suspicious sounds. Cursing yourself for the lack of elemental energy, you armed yourself with the stick before you stepped one foot out.

Entering the sunlight by yourself was a right you took for granted.

Overwhelmed by the familiar image of the mountain ranges and various wooden bridges in the distance, you knew.

"It finally took you long enough.”

At first, you thought an annoying mirage had formed above you. Craning your neck up with your stick, you pointed up at your possible threat.

Her mauve lips only upturned in an amused smile as she giggled behind her hands.

“I knew it was bad, but not this bad; my last subordinate would threaten me with a stick." She brushed her hair behind her ear from her spot on the tall tree branch above.

Patting on the tall branch as an invitation for you to come join her only made you scowl in response.

"Fine, stay down there, but those two annoyances are going to spot you and blow your cover.” Yelan pointed to the downward natural path beside you.

Lunging with your stick, you reached the tree branch with no hesitation, perching in a squat beside Yelan.

“Why are you here?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Same reason you're here." She stretched her arms above her head briefly.

“I wanted to see if you took the Regerator down or if that blood was from you,” she quietly laughed.

“So you're saying the blood wasn't from you murdering all of the fatui down there?” You rolled your eyes.

“Not yet,” she smiled as she poked your nose.

Flicking her hand in retaliation, you both paused as you looked down the mountain path.

Eventually the laugh slipped from your mouth, leading Yelan to follow in your footsteps. Her infectious laugh a comforting sound, reminding you of the time before being undercover.

when you and Yelan were just subordinates.

“So I'm going to assume then you don't know what occurred down there either.”

You nodded, only shrugging.

“I can't be a useful source since when I first stumbled upon the passage leading to that makeshift prison, I couldn't wander further inside, but I do recall no blood was in there yet.”

“It may be a good sign." Yelan interjected, “The passage you just came out of was manmade,” her finger pointed at the jagged edges the entrance had, “the prisoner escaped down the cliff to down the mountain.”

“They must have had a vision,” you deduced as you looked down the misty mountain range below.

It was Yelan's turn to nod in silent acknowledgement.

“Hang on, how did you find this place? I don't even know where I am,” you exclaimed.

Yelan only raised a perfect brow.

“Im not kidding, I snuck into the prison from the bathroom in Pantalones master bedroom looking for an escape.”

Yelan looked back at the cavern opening once more in thought.

“We found Dan, but he was dead at the base of this mountain, concealed in the amber." Yelan shrugged before looking down at the base of the mountain.

“I decided to scout the area to see if any activity would occur when I found camps of fatui surrounding this entire mountain.”

You leaned in, listening intently with interest as Yelan looked cautiously around.

“Following a few of them led me to halfway to the mountain before I was somehow spotted, and now I'm here,” she pursed her lip.

“So what's the next step? I haven't gotten any word from inside the Fatui about what's going on or if they're involved as well,” you murmured. “Im essentially being watched everywhere I go inside his residence,” scratching your wrist out of nerves.

“Your my Fatui informant; despite what it seems like, you have a lot of value out of everyone right now,” Yelan placed a firm hand on your shoulder. “Trust me, I'll treat you to the best Liyue beer in the harbor once we catch The Regerator,” Yelan smiled.

“For now, you need to keep gaining all of their trust, no matter what it is, until you have definitive evidence and a plan. We can avenge our fallen and bring Pantalone to justice,” she passionately assured you.

For a moment, it grew silent. The mountains natural sound being amplified around the both of you.

“I have to head back, Yelan," you said as you stood up on top of the tall limb.

“As do I as well; I'm sure they assumed I slid all the way down the mountain by now at this point.”

You both laughed, Yelan rising to her feet as well, both being at eye level.

“Since I know now where you are, we can both converge higher up from here near the amber on the next waning moon this month,” she said, pointing at a small landing above the manmade mountain.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Until then, (name)”

Note: Bad news and Good news:

Bad news: Im apart of the Boycotting Hoyo which means besides not playing the game and review bombing I will not be continuing this story until Hoyo stops pretending dark skin tones dont exists :D I will not argue about it as im firm on my stance and I hope everyone respects my choice and hopefully I can continue my genshin/and honkai stories once more as I really love the characters and such!

Good news: I wont be a complete asshole and since I have the rest of the 6 chapters written I will begin editing and posting those but I will not update anymore after the six one has been posted!

Again im sad I have to say all of this but I was already angry at genshin because of sumeru and then for them to do the same thing again to a group that already get talked over and their concerns and issues ignored makes me dislike them even more...

Petition + Review bomb tf out of the games on the app store btw

#yandere pantalone #yandere genshin x reader #Yandere pantalone x reader #reader insert #yandere x you #yandere content #genshin x reader

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aladaylessecondblog · 7 months ago

Text

Red Mountain Waffle House pt. 8

Sadara hadn't unwrapped the package left on their doorstep right away, mainly because she and Jiub had only seen it when they left for work in the afternoon. It seemed to be some sort of edible arrangement designed to looked like flowers and hearts, judging from the card that came with it.

"Who sent this thing?" Jiub asked, once they'd reached the Waffle House. He glanced at the flowery handwriting on the card and laughed. "Like I even had to ask. You can't get rid of this guy, can you?"

"I wish he'd just leave me alone," Sadara groaned. "A hand, now a fruit basket--I never asked for his attention, so why does he keep doing this stuff?"

Maybe he just wants to see if you're...open to anything?

She ignored the voice. A few ordinators and Temple pilgrims came in then, forcing her to put the basket in the fridge, and it wasn't for another few hours that she had the chance to look under the thing's wrapper.

She tugged off the plastic and looked over the assortment of fruits. Tropical, fresh...expensive.

Wow.

"What is that?" Nibani asked. She'd just come out from the back and was looking over the schedule, intent on her work, but sight of the fruit basket had distracted her. "We don't offer those...do we?"

"Oh no, this is a gift from Sadara's secret admirer." Jiub laughed, "Dear old Dagoth seems to have taken a shine to her...has been sending her gifts."

"Yeah, the first one was an ordinator's hand...and now this. This is actually normal though, thank the Divine."

It was already there, and being broke more often than not meant she didn't often get a chance to indulge in fresh fruits that weren't native to Morrowind. And that in itself was a rather short list.

"Normal, my--don't touch it. Don't touch ANY of it, throw it in the dumpster. Who KNOWS what he's done to it?"

"You can't sense any curses on it, can you?" Sadara asked.

"I can't, I already checked," Jiub piped up.

Try the--

She reached for one of the hearts first, and took a tentative sniff before taking a bite. For a moment she couldn't quite identify the taste. But after a moment's pause, and a tingling numbness at her lips as she swallowed the bite, she stiffened. "Jiub, was there an ingredient list on this thing? Try one of the hearts and tell me what it tastes like."

Jiub, who wouldn't argue with free food as long as it wasn't at the bottom of a dumpster or halfway down a rat's throat, did exactly as he was told and slipped one of the heart-shaped fruits into his mouth.

"Shit...it's mango."

Why does that matter? Isn't it good?

Sadara had no time to argue with Nerevar; she couldn't think of anything except the itchiness in her throat, the numbness in her mouth, and the sudden rapid pace of her heart. She stumbled back, trying to fumble for one of the healing potions kept in the fridge with the eggs, but found her hands were shaking too badly to do it.

Nibani bustled forward and opened the fridge herself, while Nerevar spoke up in a hurry.

It never did that when I ate it...well not that badly...

Sadara tried to take the potion Nibani held up, but wobbled and then stumbled as she reached for it. Behind her, Jiub guided her to a seat and sat her back.

"Open your fucking mouth before your throat swells up and you can't swallow at all!"

Still shaking, and scratching at the hives welling up all over her jaw, Sadara obeyed, and hastily gulped down the healing potion Jiub poured into her mouth.

The itchiness was the first thing to stop, then the numbness, and the pain from scratching too hard at the hives.

"Gods be damned, that was close. Another five minutes and you'd have been a goner," he said. "Do you need another one?"

She took another one, just in case, and tried to relax as the swelling of her throat receded. She was shaking all over. How could Dagoth Ur have known she was allergic?

I am too! But...but it's my favorite fruit and I never reacted like this! Oh, sure, my mouth tingled...and my lips might go a bit numb, and I'd sometimes get a rash...

You IDIOT, you realize that the next stage after that is your throat swelling up, right?!

It never did that!, Nerevar protested, I'd just take a healing potion...relax for the day, you know. It was great if I needed to blame someone for poisoning me! And Voryn knows--

IF HE KNOWS THEN HE TRIED TO POISON ME! US!

Voryn would NEVER! He likes us! BOTH OF US!

Your boyfriend is psycho, and the sooner you realize he's not our friend the better!

Sadara kept the debate up to distract herself until her heart rate began to slow back to normal. How, she wondered, could she have not seen through that polite facade of Dagoth Ur's? Maybe he wanted her dead so he could get Nerevar revived somehow...it was hard to say. Nibani had been right. Nibani was nearly always right.

She ignored Nerevar's protests to the contrary, his effusions about whether she really thought of Voryn wanting him as boyfriend after all this time, and when a customer walked in, went right back to work.

I can't afford to take the rest of the day off anyway, she thought, and when Nerevar gently suggested seeing a healer, she replied, I can't afford that either.

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

Sadara was careful around the next ash ghouls she served, but did let out that she hoped she hadn't offended him or done some to irk him. They'd seemed confused, and she'd related the thought of her allergy being known.

"Surely he meant for no such thing to happen!" one of the ash ghouls said, "Our Lord is quite fond of you, in his way."

"Mango was always a great favorite of Nerevar's," the other added. "From what we've heard, anyway."

"Regardless...I just want you to relay the message that I meant no offense, whatever caused this...your...lord may have forgotten that Nerevar was allergic to the fruit, even."

She ignored Nerevar in the back of her mind insisting that Voryn would never do such a thing, took payment from the ash ghouls, and politely bid them goodbye.

There had been nothing in the couple of days since the mango incident, and she was finally feeling somewhat normal again. There was still the ongoing thought that perhaps it wasn't too late to involve herself with the whole Nerevarine prophecy, and put all this uncertainty to an end - but then, she thought, that would bring a whole other world of shit she didn't need.

Which was exactly what she thought of when she lifted her head to see who had walked in.

Of course, she thought, of course. Everything was TOO normal. Everything was TOO QUIET!

Nothing had been quiet since she took the silt strider to the Ghostgate, had crossed into the Red Mountain region, had picked up that stupid fucking moon-and-star ring!

"Lady Almalexia," Sadara gave a slight bow, "It is a pleasure. If--if we had known you would be here, we would have...prepared better for you."

She hadn't read much about the tall redheaded lady that wasn't about mercy or her desire to punish the unfaithful, but Sadara could conjecture easily enough what sort of care to use when speaking to her.

"Not that there is much else you could have done, but I appreciate the sentiment." The smile that graced Almalexia's face was warm, almost inviting.

Sadara--Sadara, be careful.

She had heard Nerevar in many moods. Fear was not one of them, but he was afraid now.

I am being careful. Calm your tits.

"I have heard you called the Nerevarine," Almalexia said an easy yet authoritative tone, "Is it true?"

"I don't know about that. I'm...not from Morrowind, I don't usually pay attention to prophecies or...things like that. Especially ones that could be hazardous to my health. Ah - will you be wanting anything?"

Almalexia took a seat, and gave a broad smile. "An orange juice to start?"

It was quickly provided, and after a few sips she looked back up.

"I hear," she said, "That the Sharmat made an attempt on your life - with fruit of all things."

"Oh, you heard...that." Sadara looked away. "Mangoes. I'm...terribly allergic to them. He sent a fruit basket...and at first I thought perhaps he was just giving a normal gift..."

"The Sharmat's gifts are always poison. That is the first thing you should remember...he knew, he has always known, that Nerevar had an allergy to those fruits. And yet, what does he do? He gives them when he knows they will cause harm."

"It was just a change from how polite he was before. Nice, almost...but I've been told that's his way."

"By that ashlander manager of yours? That makes sense...regardless of the differences in what they believe versus the Temple truth, we both agree that Dagoth Ur is a threat."

Almalexia ordered a few waffles, and kept talking in between bites once she had them.

(Jiub was in the back, carefully and quietly minding his own business)

"Has he threatened you before?"

"Well, no..." Sadara shrugged, "Showed up here a few times. Liked a few of my posts online...but threatened?"

She thought of the hand, but if Nerevar was right that hadn't really been a threat. But if she was right about the mango then surely she'd be right about the hand too?

"His followers were all interested in the plant, though, but he seemed to want to let me have it."

"Oh, that old thing." Almalexia cast a glance at the bleeding heart plant, "Such a surprise it's still alive. I used to tell Nerevar he ought to give up on it, he'd just kill it like he did every other plant he had."

"...but he didn't listen, and it just grew for him. It was the same way for me."

It was nice, really, to make something grow after so long of not being able to. She could definitely understand Nerevar's previous tending to it now. It made her feel like she'd accomplished something, no matter how small a thing it was.

"So you remember that?"

"Well...well, uh...yes. And no." Sadara shrugged nervously. "I don't believe in this Nerevarine business, my lady. I'd rather not be on the wrong end of the Temple for something I don't even believe in."

"But surely you believe in the Temple? In me?"

"Well--" Sadara stumbled over her words, "--the ordinators don't seem to think so. I've had a few attack me."

"Really, now. What for?"

She wasn't sure what Almalexia's goal was here, and it was unnerving. Maybe the woman was just trying to be nice...and manipulative, but given how Vivec had been maybe this was just par for the course? The Tribunal would naturally want to interfere, right?

"Because I'm polite to the followers of the Sixth House, and some of them take issue with that."

"Well--really! They're not worth being polite to."

"Their money spends as well as anyone else's," Sadara shrugged, "And when you don't make much you don't get to indulge in moral standards to that degree."

'Better hungry and faithful than replete and faithless' she'd heard some Temple faithful say, almost like a hymn. But she didn't subscribe to that. She'd been hungry far too often in her life to want to tie it to something as abstract as faith. There was nothing religious about hunger.

"I had heard," Almalexia's tone sharpened just slightly, "That you have fought a few of them."

"Only if they start it. I'm not going to stand here and not defend myself, regardless of who started it."

Sadara--

"But surely you understand why they might be upset over the Sixth House monsters being treated with the same politeness as they? The ones actually upholding the law?"

"The law doesn't say I have to turn them out, and given this place is behind the Ghostfence it's a good idea to at least be cordial. If I spent my time turning away every customer with corprus...well, I have it myself, so it'd be a bit hypocritical, wouldn't it?"

"You do?" Almalexia looked up from her empty plate, "You certainly don't look it. But--no, I must hear about these fights with my ordinators. One has had to leave my service, you understand, and I want to know WHY."

Fuck, this is about the hand, isn't it?

"I didn't do anything but fight a few of them outside, and I didn't do anything that required a healer, at least that I know of."

"Then explain the hand." Almalexia's gaze shifted into a glare. "Explain why one of my truest defenders lost his hand."

"I didn't do it," Sadara protested, and took a step back when the goddess before her raised a hand to point at her, "I got it in the mail later. I didn't ask for it. I didn't want it, Dagoth Ur's been acting crazy and--I swear, I wanted nothing to do with this!"

"Really. You got a hand in the mail, and you didn't think to say anything? Perhaps he was right, perhaps you are more a Sixth House sympathizer than you outwardly appear to be."

"I'm not, I swear. And if you want to talk about the tattoo, I only did that because Vivec bribed me!"

"Vivec! That fool has no idea what he's doing. Look at me--" She glanced at the nametag, and then back up, "--Sadara. Look. At. Me. I am the only one you should worry about listening to. If you would only LISTEN, you would never have to worry about those sleepers again, nor that foul demon under the mountain."

"The sleepers aren't the problem--"

She yelped slightly as Almalexia reached suddenly up to yank her down by the collar of her shirt.

"They are ALWAYS going to be a problem. Get in with them and you get in with Dagoth Ur, and I will NOT LET my husband's incarnate be ANYWHERE NEAR that--"

Sadara tried to pull back, to no avail.

"I'm not Nerevar!" she burst out, "You've got the wrong woman!"

"Really? Then what about the ring? Is he in there? Hmm? Telling you lies, maybe?"

Get the hell away from this crazy bitch before she punts you into another life! Nerevar was practically shrieking in Sadara's head, utterly terrified by the wild anger in Almalexia's eyes.

"He's--"

"What is he saying?!"

"He's afraid of you!" Sadara burst out, not knowing what else to say.

Almalexia's voice dropped, to a tone that had Sadara shaking in her shoes. "He should be. Neht, dear, you really should listen when your wife is speaking to you."

Never before had Sadara understood "my soul left my body" as an expression, but she certainly did at that moment. Her heart racing, painful adrenaline coursing through her veins--

--and then, suddenly, there was the sound of a shattering bottle and the grip on her shirt fell away, along with Almalexia herself who slumped back.

On the other side of the woman was Jiub, with a now broken bottle in his hands.

Both of them looked down at Almalexia's still body, and then back up at each other.

Jiub half-kicked the woman's leg. There was no response.

"FUCK!" he swore, "NOT AGAIN!"

#anaphylaxis #healing potions fix everything #whoops #dagoth ur #almalexia #morrowind #nerevarine #fanfiction #jiub #tes #tesblr #elder scrolls

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duskspring · 1 year ago

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Gifts - Dew/Everyone

Domestic December - Day 10

Summary: Dew gets the pack gifts for the season

Content (do let me know if I forgot anything!): Slightly anxious Dew, fluff, some quick kisses, talk of gender exploration and euphoria in relation to Rain

Word count: ~3.5k

A/N: Some parts of this fic are inspired by some headcanons I've posted before [My Main Masterlist]

The night was loud and unholy. The entire ghoul pack had gathered in their common room, celebrating the end of year festivities. Movies had been watched, board games played and so, so much alcohol consumed. It had, by all accounts, been a great night. But not for Dewdrop.

Yes, he’d been having a lot of fun, but there was a part of him distracted. He’d had an edge of anxiety all night, waiting for the right moment to resolve it. He knew he couldn’t wait much longer, since the night was starting to reach its natural conclusion in those wee hours of the morning.

He sat on a chair on the side of the room, leg bouncing. Two strong arms suddenly came down to lean on his shoulders from behind. He’d recognize those arms anywhere.

“What’s the matter, Droplet?” Swiss asked, “You’ve been a nervous wreck all night.”

“I’m not.” Dew argued unconvinsingly, before sighing. He knew he needed to just get it over with.

He stood up without another word, moving to his room. Swiss immediately followed him in concern.

“Hey, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean-”

“Nothing’s wrong, Swiss. I just need to grab something,” He stopped his stride, turning to Swiss with an almost pleading look in his eyes, “Please just wait here for a second.”

The multi ghoul was confused, but didn’t want to overstep. He subtly nodded a few times, “Alright.” He took a step backwards, his eyes staying on Dew, before turning back to the rest of the pack.

On shaky legs, Dew quickly made his way to his room. He had two plastic shopping bags waiting there for him, as well as a little separate package on his desk and another item off to the side for later. He put the separate one in his pocket before picking up the bags and marching back. He couldn’t stop now. If he just kept walking and got this over with, it'd be done. It wasn’t a big deal. Worst case scenario, the thought was still there, right?

“Ooh, whatcha got there?” Aurora asked the second he walked in. All eyes turned to him and he froze.

Just get it over with.

“Find out for yourself.” He said dismissively, putting the bags down and plopping himself down on the couch.

Aurora immediately crawled towards the bags. Half of the pack came a little closer as well, while the other half sat back, though still curious and anticipating.

Aurora dug through the first bag, grabbing the first thing she could get her claws on. She examined the wrapped package, soon spotting the name ‘Mountain’ written in Dew’s messy handwriting.

“Mounty, it’s for you.” She announced, throwing it over her shoulder without looking away from the bag.

Cirrus luckily caught it, passing it to Mountain. He looked at Dew in pleasant surprise, looking at the little flat square in his palm. The wrapping was messy, even on such a small present.

“Can I open it?” He asked dew.

“It’s your life. Do what you want.” The fire ghoul’s anxiety was getting worse, making him act dismissive as if it would distance him from the gifts.

He delicately unwrapped the package, without tearing the dotted paper. The first thing he was met with was an empty rectangle of cardboard. He turned it around, causing dew, who was paying very close attention, to bring his legs up against his chest.

Mountain looked over the cardboard a second, then third time, wanting to make sure he was reading it all correctly. There was a bit of text on there, next to a shitty doodle of a flower and what he could only assume was supposed to be Dew, all made with black permanent marker. The words were hard to make out.

“Exchangeable for one… at- attemoon?”

“For one afternoon of help in the garden.” Dew quickly mumbled in explanation.

Mountain looked up in surprise, “You hate the garden.” He noted.

“Well, if you don’t like it you could just say so!” The fire ghoul said defensively, his anxiety reaching its peak.

Mountain’s expression softened, “Dew… Thank you.” He got up, awkwardly bending over to wrap his arms around his packmate.

Dew was shaking like crazy, ready to cry at the positive reaction.

Meanwhile, Aurora had thrown a few more packages over her shoulder. Rain, Aether and Cirrus all got theirs. The little multi ghoulette huffed as she reached the bottom of the first bag, quickly moving onto the next. After throwing something to Phantom, she finally reached her own. She squealed in excitement, forgetting the few people that still hadn’t gotten their own and immediately violently unwrapping hers.

She found herself holding a small ziplock baggie. She saw Sunshine’s face, photoshopped onto a sun through it, quickly opening it up to investigate. It quickly became obvious that she was holding a little pile of different kinds of stickers. Apart from the Sunshine one, there were stickers based on everyone in the pack, all shitilly photoshopped in some relation from their element or name. There were stickers further referencing inside jokes, as well as some logos from Aurora’s favorite bands.

“Dewy, these are awesome!” She giggled, happily shaking her hands.

Cumulus came closer to her to look at the stickers, giggling at them herself, “Did you make these yourself?” She asked him.

Mountain pulled away so Dew could answer. He did so with a nod, “Aurora likes stickers. Easy.” Coming up with and putting together all the designs had actually been a nightmare, but he would never admit to that. He had zero regret, seeing Aurora’s reaction.

Based on the ghoulette’s excitement, everyone quickly dug into their own gifts. Cumulus handed out the few that hadn’t reached their reciprocate yet, including her own.

Phantom’s gift has a funny texture, only upping his curiosity. He rushed to unpack his, gasping and stuttering in excitement when he saw what it was. He could barely hold on to it with how much his hands shook.

“Whatcha got there, buddy?” Swiss asked, smiling at Phantom’s excitement.

Dew let out a sigh of relief. He’d been perhaps most nervous about Phantom’s gift, thinking it wasn’t good enough. Too lame or cheap, not personal enough. Seeing the quintessence ghoul’s eyes light up forced every last bit of anxiety to leave him.

The gift had indeed been simple, a little bat shaped fidget toy. You could spin its head around in circles, pull its wings back and forth and squish its little feet. Phantom immediately went to town on it, unresponsive to most outside stimuli.

Cumulus went next. Unwrapping her gift gracefully, much like Mountain had done. Her heart swelled as her hands grasped a book. Not just any book, but a photo album.

“Dew…” She said his name in adoration, flipping through the pages. Most pictures had been made by her. They were all labelled with a date and the place or situation in which they were taken. It was separated into three chapters: tour, home and Cumulus. The first chapter included photos from the stage, backstage and the tourbus. The second showed all the various shenanigans the pack experienced at the abbey. But it was the third that was most meaningful to Cumulus. She didn’t have a lot of pictures of herself, always being the one to take them of others. But Dew had somehow gathered just about every good picture ever taken of her, even some she had never seen before.

Cumulus quickly pushed the book into Cirrus’s hands, afraid she’d cry all over it. She sniffled, still seated on the ground. She made grabby hands to Dew, beckoning him over into her arms. The two entered a crushing hug while the book was passed around to everyone in the room, laughing and reminiscing.

“You fuckhead, really?!” Sunshine yelled in good spirit at Dew, holding up the book on a page containing a very unflattering picture of her napping on the tour bus. Drool leaked out the corner of her mouth, Swiss and Phantom posing next to her, pointing at the lewd drawings they’d made on her cheeks.

“It’s a good picture.” Dew argued with a smile, earning him a pillow to the face.

Sunshine rushed over in his disorientation, straddling his chest and miming punching him in the face a few times. They both laughed, Sunshine getting off of him again.

“Didn’t even get me a gift.” She mumbled, although her smile faltered a little. She’d been one of only two who didn’t have a gift in the bag. She was confused and hurt, but didn’t want to make a scene and risk ruining it for everyone else.

Dew looked at her face, silently reaching into his pocket and sliding her the little gift he’d kept separately in his pocket with a wink.

Sunshine immediately thought she knew what it might be, covering the package with her hand so no one could see. When everyone seemed distracted, she moved her legs up and unwrapped the gift behind them without looking down. She examined it with her hands, having a hard time not reacting. Quickly she let her eyes drift down, nearly screaming when she saw the lighter in her hands.

All the lighters she used to own had been confiscated for… reasons. And she technically wasn’t allowed to get any new ones.

She turned to Dew with a devious smirk, making him regret the gift almost instantly. But when she shuffled over and put her arm around his shoulders and rested her head against it, he knew it’d been a good call. He felt a lot calmer already, excited to witness the rest unpacking.

Cirrus went next. She tried opening it carefully, before just tearing it apart when it was taking too long. Her gift was one of the few in a proper cardboard box, also being the biggest. It carried the name of a clothing brand she was vaguely aware of.

She looked at Dew with squinted eyes. Curious, suspicious.

She opened it up to indeed be met with a sleek deep blue fabric. She picked and held it up, realizing there was another part of the same color in the box as well.

No way.

“Dew.” She stressed his name, putting her arms down again.

“Yes, dear?” He asked with a grin.

“Dew.” She looked again. It was unmistakable. He’d gotten her a suit. A full, fancy, proper suit, “I complained about not having a suit last week, how did you-”

“Guess I just know you really well.” His dismissive attitude came back with a shrug, not mentioning the fact that he’d run around town in a blind panic trying to get it on time during the busy season.

“I…” She struggled to find the words to express her gratitude.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Put it on!” Sunshine hyped her up.

Cirrus’ eyes lit up, throwing the jacket back down in the box and rushing out the room with it all.

“Alright, alright, now I’m done waiting,” Swiss said, looking straight at Dew, “I assume you haven’t forgotten about me.” There hadn’t been a gift for him in the bags either, but he knew better than to assume Dew didn’t get him anything.

The fire ghoul nodded, “One second.” And left the room.

His feet produced quick taps through the hallway, even though he was wearing socks. He hadn’t been able to bring Swiss’ gift in earlier, since it couldn’t really be wrapped.

“Dewdrop,” Right as he was about to pick it up, Cirrus’ voice came from behind him. He turned to the doorway, greeted by the sight of Cirrus in her brand new, impeccably sharp suit.

“I’m so glad it fits.” Was the first thing he said.

The ghoulette took quick strides towards him, hugging his head into her chest. She could be quite reserved sometimes, so she was glad to have caught Dew on his own.

“It looks great. Thank you so much. I love it.” Her voice shook a little with the sincerity it carried.

Dew stood semi awkwardly when she pulled back, “Phew,” He said stoically, though he did mean it and she knew that, “Guess you should show it to the rest then. I’ll be right behind.”

Cirrus nodded enthusiastically, skipping her way back to the rest of the pack.

Dew let out another relieved breath when she was out of sight. He really didn’t know why he'd been so scared to begin with. He knew his packmates well.

He could hear the excited oh’s and ah’s from the common room and knew he shouldn’t keep Swiss waiting too much longer. He waited another half a minute so Cirrus could have her moment, before picking up the gift and making his own way back.

“You did not!” Since Swiss’ gift wasn’t wrapped he could see clear as day what it was right off the bat.

“Maybe I did. Why don’t you have some fun with it?” Dew teased, holding out a very distinct guitar. At least it was distinct to Swiss.

He would recognize that damn thing anywhere. It was the first guitar he’d ever learned to play on, never allowed to take it on tour. When he returned from his first set of shows he was told he wouldn’t need the old model anymore, since it was best for him to get used to what he always used on stage. He’d never seen it again after that and a sentimental part of him had always missed it. But it was undeniable. This was the exact guitar.

The multi ghoul had never stood up so fast, making his way to Dew and practically yanking the instrument from his hands.

He inspected it, as if there was any doubt it was the right one.

“Hey, I know that! I learned to play with that thing.” Phantom mentioned.

“And it’s good that you did,” Dew interjected, “cause that’s how I figured out where they stored it. Don’t tell anyone.” The last sentence was said very quickly, giving Swiss a serious look that revealed that Dew did, in fact, steal the guitar.

Swiss looked at him with the same adoration he’d been shown earlier, but even more intense, “I cannot thank you enough.” The multi ghoul’s voice was low, soft. He’d never meant something this much in this life.

It almost caught Dew off guard, only able to nod and smile in response.

While Swiss excitedly moved to play a song, Aether had made his way to Dew’s side and led him back to one of the couches with a hand on his shoulder. Their legs touched when they sat down, making Dew move his head to Aether’s shoulder like Sunshine had done with him before.

“Should I be scared?” The quintessence ghoul asked half-jokingly, holding up the little box his gift resided in.

Dew shrugged, “Depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Do you trust me?” Aether exhaled a laugh. Dew knew damn well he trusted him, he just wanted to hear him say it. He played this game a lot.

“Well, alright, alright. I trust you. Let’s see.” He removed the wrapping paper, not afraid to tear it but also not doing so in an aggressive manner.

He thought his eyes would bulge out of his skull with how wide they opened. Whatever he’d been expecting was nothing like this.

The little black ring box felt smooth in his hands, “I didn’t know you were so into human customs.” Aether smirked at Dew. The fire ghoul looked a little confused, until his friend clarified, “Are you asking me to marry you?” He already knew the answer was no, but it was fun to tease.

Dew scoffed, but couldn’t hide his smile, “You wish.”

Aether finally opened the box. The ring was a silver band, with dark purple waves decorating it all around.

“Saw it at a store, back in Cincinnati. It reminded me of quintessence, so I thought-”

The fire ghoul was cut off with a quick kiss on his lips. Aether’s face was so full of adoration, it made them both feel crazy.

“Four months,” Aether realized, “You’ve been sitting on this, and managed to keep it a secret, for four months.”

“I take it you like it.” Dew looked away from Aether’s face for a moment, a little bit of insecurity still lingering.

Aether forced him to look back with a hand on his chin, “It is perfect,” He kissed him again, “I just wish I got you something in return.”

“Please, don’t worry about it.” He nearly begged. Giving gifts had already been a struggle, let alone receiving them.

Aether dropped down, his head resting in Dew’s lap. He smiled up at him, fitting the ring onto his finger.

That left only one. Rain had waited with his gift, wanting to properly see everyone else’s reaction before getting caught up himself.

His was only a little smaller than Cirrus’ had been. He didn’t want to expect anything, afraid of being disappointed if he did. But he had a hunch. He tried not to focus on it, yet he couldn’t help a part of him hoping he was correct.

“Open it up already, I’m tired!” Aurora encouraged him, getting a poke in the ribs from Cirrus.

Rain took a breath, telling himself he'd be thankful either way. Because he would be. His heart swelled at the events of the evening, how much thought Dew had put into each and every single gift, finding things he knew everyone would like. And Dew knew him very well, right? Yes, he did, but Rain still scolded himself for his hope and expectation.

A strip of the wrapping paper tore away slowly, revealing the cardboard box underneath. Rain let out a shaky breath, forcing the rest of it out of the way.

Swiss jokingly started drum rolling with his hands on his legs, the rest of the room slowly joining in. It only made Rain take more time. He felt exposed with all eyes on him. What if he had an unfavorable reaction?

There truly only was one way to find out. He opened the box. His tense muscles relaxed in an instant. He knew exactly what it was. And god dammit he had guessed correctly.

Dew had not been anxious in the slightest about Rain’s gift, already knowing he’d love it. Although he hadn’t counted on Rain doubling over his gift, tears streaming down his face with a quiet sob.

The rest of the room couldn’t see the gift, some stares and raised eyebrows making their way towards Dew. But his face was confident, a small smile reassuring everyone that Rain’s reaction must be of joy.

The fire ghoul got up, knowing Rain would want to hug or kiss or fuck him on the spot. The second his ass touched the couch, Rain clung onto him, his cries somehow managing to sound overjoyed indeed.

The gift may not have seemed like a lot to most people. It was a blue ankle length dress with glitters on the top part and flowers embroidered on the skirt.

But it meant the world to Rain. He’d been wearing skirts more often, mostly in the privacy of his own room. It wasn’t that he feared judgement, he knew the other ghouls, as well as the siblings, would never look at him differently for it. But he just wanted to explore and experiment a bit at his own pace. Dew was the only person he’d discussed this with in detail, having shown him this exact dress. He’d been wanting to get it really bad for a while but always felt like something was holding him back.

Not anymore.

“No pressure,” Dew whispered into Rain’s hair, “but I’d love to see you in it some time.”

The water ghoul looked up, quickly wiping the tears off his face. He smiled, hurriedly getting up and running out with the box like Cirrus had done before.

“What was it? What was it?” Phantom quickly asked.

“Give him just a minute and you’ll see.” Dew responded.

Indeed a minute later, Rain shyly stepped back into the room. There was definite excitement for everyone, some showing it more strongly than others.

“Give us a twirl!” Cumulus encouraged, causing Rain to do just that.

He felt majestic in it. A fairytale princess come to life straight out of a storybook. It was euphoric, “How did you know my size?” He asked Dew.

“I don’t know if you realize, but I’m pretty familiar with your body.” He explained.

Rain smiled wider, walking up to Dew and picking him up right off of the couch. He twirled around again, with him in his arms this time.

“Thank you so much. This really means the world.”

“Everyone say ‘thank you, Dew’.” Aether said.

A big chorus of thank you’s sounded through the common room. Phantom came up to Dew, still suspended in Rain’s arms, and joined their hug. Soon enough it was a group hug with the whole pack.

Dew had already stopped worrying, but the reinforcement of everyone’s gratitude made him feel even sillier for ever worrying in the first place. He loved his fellow ghouls and they clearly loved him back.

[My Main Masterlist | Domestic December Masterlist]

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fanfics4all · 2 months ago

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Family Gatherings

Request: Yes / No Fluffcember Day 27

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Barry Allen x Fem!Reader

Word count: 632

Warnings: Just sweet comfy fluff!

Prompt(s): Family Gatherings

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee!

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Christmas at the West’s house was pure magic. I could feel it the moment Barry and I stepped through the door. The whole house smelled of pine, cinnamon, and peppermint, with twinkling lights strung along every wall, and a warm fire crackling in the fireplace. Joe had gone all out with the decorations. Iris and Wally were adding final touches to the tree. Cisco was in the kitchen, already sneaking bites of Caitlin’s Christmas cookies while she pretended not to notice, though the smirk on her face gave her away.

Barry took my coat and hung it by the door, flashing me that smile of his. He knew how much I loved Christmas and having it here, with all this family that felt more like my own with every visit, made it feel even more special.

“Finally! Now the party can actually start!” Cisco called from the kitchen, waving a wooden spoon. I laughed, joining him and Caitlin as they arranged a mountain of cookies on a platter. Caitlin handed me a gingerbread man and I took a bite, marveling at the perfect balance of spice and sweetness.

“Caitlin, these are amazing!” I told her, watching as she blushed and a small smile formed on her face.

“Only the best for the holidays.” She said, dusting flour from her hands.

“And watch out for Cisco, he’s already eaten almost half the tray.” He gasped in mock offense.

“Hey! I’m just quality-checking! Ya know, making sure everything is top-tier.”

The living room suddenly erupted in laughter, and I turned to see Barry draping a strand of tinsel over Joe’s shoulders. Joe responded by rolling his eyes and playfully shoving him away. Wally added his own commentary, and Iris giggled, shaking her head at the sight of her dad wearing silver tinsel.

We gathered around the tree to open presents, love, and laughter filling every corner of the room. Iris passed around mugs of cocoa, and Joe put on a Christmas record that cracked with old-fashioned charm.

“Alright, first gift of the night!” Joe announced, handing a small, carefully wrapped package to Caitlin. Her eyes widened as she took it and unwrapped it to find a beautiful necklace. Barry squeezed my hand, his thumb brushing gently over my knuckles. His eyes sparkled with excitement as we exchanged gifts and I could tell he’d been looking forward to this moment all night.

“I know it’s not much.” He muttered as he handed me my gift. It was a small box wrapped in paper with a silver bow. I opened it slowly, my heart racing. Inside was a tony locket, shaped like a snowflake with intricate engravings that shimmered in the light. I looked up, my eyes meeting his and he gave me that soft smile that always melted my heart.

“It’s perfect…” I whispered, fastening the locket around my neck and feeling its cool weight settle over my heart.

As the night went on, laughter and joy continued to fill the house. Cisco and Wally attempted a duet to Jingle Bells that quickly devolved into laughter, while Caitlin joined in with a surprisingly good harmony. Even Joe got in on the fun, singing along with a deep voice that had us all in stitches.

Later, as the night started winding down, I found myself snuggled up on the couch with Barry. His arm was wrapped securely around my waist as we watched the fire crackle and pop. Iris leaned against Joe, her head resting on his shoulder, while Cisco and Caitlin sat across from us, sharing the last of the cookies.

“This…” Barry mumbled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple.

“...is what Christmas should always feel like.” I glanced up at him, my heart full.

“Yeah, this is perfect.” I agreed snuggling closer.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @flashettewrites @liz-owl

#fanfic #prompt #the flash #the flash imagine #barry allen #barry allen imagines #barry allen x reader #barry allen x fem!reader #barry x reader #barry x fem!reader #cisco ramon #caitlin snow #joe west #iris west #fluff #fluffcember #fluffcember 2024 #fluffcember day 27 #family gatherings

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balinsbestie · 3 months ago

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A birthday surpise for Dwalin

The great halls of Erebor echoed with the quiet hum of life—smiths hammering, voices chattering, and the occasional burst of laughter from distant corridors. But in one secluded corner of the mountain, you and Balin sat at a small table, your heads close together as you plotted a grand surprise.

“Now, lass,” Balin began, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he rubbed his hands together, “if we’re going to pull this off, we’ll need to be crafty. My brother’s not exactly one for fuss.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” you replied with a grin. “But he deserves a celebration, especially for a milestone like this.”

Balin nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Two hundred years. Hard to believe he’s managed to live this long with the amount of fights he’s been in.”

“Probably because he’s so stubborn,” you teased, earning a chuckle from Balin. “But that’s what makes him Dwalin.”

The plan was simple—or at least as simple as anything involving Dwalin could be. A small gathering with close friends, a feast fit for a king (or a particularly hungry dwarf), and a gift that you hoped would show him just how much he meant to you.

“You’re sure he won’t suspect anything?” you asked, glancing at Balin.

The elder dwarf chuckled, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Oh, he might grumble when he figures it out, but deep down, he’ll appreciate it. You’ve a way of softenin’ him, lass.”

You felt your cheeks warm at that. “Let’s just hope it works.”

The Day of the Surprise

The dining hall was a sight to behold, with banners hung along the walls and a grand table laden with roasted meats, fresh breads, and Dwalin’s favorite ales. Thorin, Fili, Kili, and the rest of the company had all pitched in to make the evening special, though keeping it a secret from the guest of honor had been no small feat.

“Is he coming?” you asked Balin nervously, adjusting a tray of honey cakes on the table.

“He’s on his way,” Balin assured you, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Dis lured him out of the mountain earlier to keep him busy, but he’ll be back any moment.”

Sure enough, moments later, the heavy thud of boots echoed down the hall. The dwarves all scrambled into position, their excitement barely contained. You stood near the head of the table, your heart pounding as the door swung open.

Dwalin stepped inside, his expression instantly suspicious as he took in the gathered crowd. “What’s this?” he growled, his eyes narrowing.

“Surprise!” the company shouted, their voices filling the hall.

Dwalin froze, his eyes scanning the room before finally landing on you. His usual scowl softened, replaced by a look of quiet astonishment. “You planned this?” he asked, his voice low as he approached you.

“With some help,” you admitted, glancing at Balin, who gave you a sly wink. “We wanted to celebrate you, Dwalin. Two hundred years is something to be proud of.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his piercing blue eyes fixed on yours. Then, to your surprise, he smiled—a rare, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“It wasn’t trouble,” you said softly. “Not for you.”

He shook his head, clearly at a loss for words, before reaching out to pull you into a gentle hug. The company let out a chorus of cheers and whistles, causing you both to laugh.

The Gift

As the evening wore on, filled with laughter, food, and stories of Dwalin’s many adventures, you slipped away to retrieve your gift. When you returned, you found him standing near the hearth, a tankard of ale in hand as he listened to Thorin recount a tale of their youth.

“Dwalin,” you called, drawing his attention. “I have something for you.”

He set the tankard down, his brow furrowing as you handed him a carefully wrapped package. “What’s this?”

“Open it and see,” you urged, suddenly nervous.

He untied the string and unwrapped the cloth, revealing a beautifully crafted dagger. The blade was engraved with intricate runes, and the hilt was wrapped in leather dyed a deep green—the same shade as the ribbon you always wore in your hair.

Dwalin stared at the weapon for a long moment, his thumb brushing over the runes. “This is… incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“I had it made just for you,” you explained, your heart racing. “The runes spell out strength, loyalty, and courage—everything you are to me.”

His gaze snapped up to meet yours, and for a moment, the room seemed to fade away. “You didn’t have to do this, lass,” he said quietly, though the gratitude in his voice was unmistakable.

“I wanted to,” you replied, stepping closer. “You deserve it.”

He reached out, pulling you into another embrace. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured against your hair.

“And you’re worth it,” you whispered back, feeling his arms tighten around you.

Later That Night

As the party wound down and the company began to disperse, Dwalin lingered at your side, his hand resting lightly on your back. Balin passed by, his eyes twinkling as he clapped Dwalin on the shoulder.

“Well, brother,” Balin said with a grin, “looks like you’ve had quite the celebration.”

“Aye,” Dwalin replied, his voice gruff but warm. “Thanks to you lot. And… her.”

Balin shot you a knowing look, leaning in to whisper, “Told you he’d appreciate it.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “You were right.”

As Balin wandered off, Dwalin turned to you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it. “Thank you, lass,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “For all of it.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your heart swelling with affection.

And as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, you knew you’d made his 200th birthday one he’d never forget.

#dwalin imagine #dwalin x reader #dwalin/reader #dwalinxreader #dwalin #the hobbit

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meetmyothersouls · 2 years ago

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Holding my breath until back to you 5 comes out, sorry not sorry 💅🤪

I hope you’re still alive 😂

Back To You

Jonah Hauer-King x first person reader

Warnings: memory loss, angst and tension, hang over

Chapter 5

“Are you okay? Are you going to be sick again?” Jonah asks, dropping his towel he was using to dry his hair. The towel around his waist is held in place as he rushes over to me. He kneels down beside the bed and I slide away from him.

“I…did we…?”

His eyebrows furrow in confusion just before his eyes widen in realization. “What? Oh no, no. No of course not.”

I look down at the oversized t-shirt I’m wearing. Then back up at Jonah.

“I had Haven clean you up and dress you for bed,” Jonah sighs. He gets back up and walks into the massive walk in closet. I hear him rummaging around and he comes back out in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of tight boxer shorts. I’m still slightly nauseous and my head is pounding from the apparent headache I’m going to be suffering from todays, but I’m not oblivious to the package he’s sporting underneath those boxers. I try my best to avoid eye contact. “Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No sorry, I was thinking of…something else. What did you say?”

“I said, I didn’t even kiss you back last night even though I desperately wanted to, because you were drunk. Do you really think-”

“Oh god!” I interrupt him and he looks back up at me in shock. “I thought I dreamed that!” I get out of bed and stumble to the door. I’m trying to escape both Jonah and the embarrassment of being rejected by him, but he’s trailing behind me. I hear his footsteps tapping a few stairs behind me as I clamber down the staircase.

“Y/n, slow down. You’re going to fall!”

“Please just leave me alone, Jonah!”

“No!”

“Why!?”

“Because you’re my wife, and I will never leave you alone!”

“Did we sleep together?” I turn around suddenly as Jonah runs into me. My face is inches away from his freshly washed body and his prefect pressed t-shirt. He smells like a very expensive body wash, something that would named Amazon Rain or Mountain Mist. I don’t make eye contact with him, instead I’m staring at his chest like an idiot, because I can’t bring myself to look at someone like him in the eye.

“What?” His accent is thick when he’s confused.

“You were showering in my room. I just assumed that-”

“Actually it’s our room, Y/n. And no we didn’t. As I was trying to say before you stormed out of our room, I didn’t even kiss you. I didn’t undress your or clean you up like I wanted to. Your sister did. I used that shower because other other bathroom was occupied. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to finish packing.”

My anger subsides and I feel both stupid and depressed. Why did this have to happen to me? How, out of everyone in this fucking city, was it be that ended up losing the last 4 years of their life? Did he say he was packing? I feel even worse that I’ve now driven the one man who was supposed to love me away. I’m crying now and I can’t help the shaking in my voice.

“Are…are you leaving me?”

Jonah turns around from his walk back to the stair case and it seems the annoyance I caused from my outburst has melted away from him as well. His face has softened and his eyes study me. “Of course not,” Jonah says softly. I let him pull me into a hug because I need it. Jonah holds me against his body tightly in what I would call ‘the perfect hug’. My face is tucked in just under his collar bone and I breathe in his scent again. Jonah’s hands rub my back and I lean into his touch. I can’t help it. If someone were to walk in they’d definitely assume we were a couple, this feels like much more than a friendly embrace. I feel Jonah press his nose into my hair. I can’t tell if he’s inhaling or sighing. Maybe he’s taking in my scent like I am his. “Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me for at least a month.” He presses a kiss into my hair. “Hopefully much more.”

I unwrap my arms from Jonah’s waist and look up at him. He’s looking down at me. He licks his lips and my stomach flips. I want to kiss him. I have the overwhelming urge to feel his lips against mine again. I don’t even remember how they felt because I was too drunk to retain the memory. “Where are you going?” I ask in an attempt to push the thought away.

“Just a short trip.”

“Where to?” The idea of Jonah going on a trip seems strange to me, especially if he has the idea of ‘winning me back’ within a the month.

“I’d uh…I’d rather not say.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I just..I don’t-”

“Oooh are you seeing another woman? That’d make this whole thing a lot easier,” I joke.

Jonah groans and rolls his eyes before trudging back up the stairs. I trail after him. I was joking but it’s clear I struck a nerve. He’s going back into my room and he’s already inside the closet again before I’ve made it all the way up the stairs. Curse his long legs. He’s got a duffel bag on my bed and he’s throwing clothes haphazardly into the bag, not even folding them. His jaw is clenched and I have to admit he looks quite sexy irritated.

“Jonah, I was just kidding.”

“It’s not funny, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it. Look, this whole thing is still…weird for me. I don’t know how to joke with your or even talk with you. I’m still learning, Jonah. You’re going to have to give me some time.”

“We don’t have that much time, y/n.”

“So then why are you going in a trip? Must be pretty fucking important if you’re leaving while you’re on borrowed time.”

Jonah throws a shirt into the bag and stares at me. He’s studying me, and again I feel like I’m missing a giant piece of myself. A piece of a puzzle that he’s got but won’t quiet fit into place. Jonah sighs and sits on the bed, his head in his hands. “I need to go on this trip, Y/n. I debated whether or not I should go and I really think it would be good for me.”

I make an effort to soften my voice. I sit next to him on the bed. “Can you tell me where it is? Where you’ll be? You know…in case I need you.”

He swallows hard when I say ‘need you’ but I pretend not to notice. His hair is still damp and he’s got the faintest five o’clock shadow. I think about how it would feel to lay him back on this bed, crawl on top of him and kiss him slowly. God damn it.

“I’m going to a cabin up north.”

“What for? Is it special?”

“Well, it’s where we spent our honeymoon. I guess I’ll just tell you. This weekend is our five year anniversary. I was going to take you there as a surprise but then…the accident happened and you know the rest.”

He won’t look at me. He’s picking at his thumbnail and all I want to do is grab his face and kiss him. He clearly loved me and our life together so much. I don’t think I’ve ever been given a gift as thoughtful as that. “Jonah,” is all I can manage to say.

He sniffles once and clears his throat. “Yeah, so I think it’d be good for me to go, you know?”

“Alone? Jonah you can’t go alone. Let me go with you. It might be good for my memory and such.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not letting you go alone.”

Jonah’s POV:

I’ve been put through a ringer of emotions today, but I think we’re making progress. Y/n seemed upset at the thought of me leaving her, which at least gives me the feeling that she likes me at least a little bit. A step in the right direction of nothing else. She also looked at me just like she did when she used to pounce on me with kisses. She didn’t kiss me but the look alone had my heart racing.

I’m making dinner when Haven comes into the kitchen with Jorge. They’re laughing about something. Good.

“Where’s y/n?” Haven asks.

“She’s upstairs packing.”

“Couldn’t take one more second of your sorry ass, I assume?” Jorge sneers.

I can’t help but smile. “Actually the opposite, we’re going up north together.”

Haven looks horrified so I elaborate. “It’s the cabin we spent our honeymoon in. It’s our five year anniversary this weekend and I was going to go alone, but now y/n wants to go.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Haven asks.

“What did you do to convince her to go? Did you cry like a little bitch?” Jorge adds. Haven smacks his shoulder and Jorge dramatically rubs it.

“I’m not going to tell her not to come, I’m trying to get her back, Haven, this is the perfect opportunity.”

“Well…maybe I should come too? It’ll be good for y/n to have someone she can come to if she’s feeling overstimulated or if she has a panic attack.”

Just as Haven finishes her sentence, y/n is coming down the stairs. She’s actually smiling and it’s the best thing I’ve seen in weeks.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“How much did Jonah pay you to go on a holiday with him?”

“What?” Y/n laughs. “No I want to go.”

“Well maybe I should come to?” Haven asks y/n. I’m silently praying she says no.

“Yeah! That’d be fun! Jorge should come to.”

I try not to groan out loud. Hopefully I can still make some progress with y/n.

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