#who am i kidding they’re already married in my head
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do yall think that when jack and joke get married, they’ll just switch the rings from their right hands to their left?
#jack & joker the series#jack & joker u steal my heart#jackjoker#yin anan#war wanarat#yinwar#who am i kidding they’re already married in my head#thai drama#thai bl drama#asian drama#lgbtqia
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Naughty or Nice?
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.8k
Warnings: smut, fem!receiving
Summary: This year, you’re going to ask Santa for something only you have been able to give you thus far. Orgasms.
Square Filled: Christmas (2021) for @spndeanbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
Normally, the mall is a place you and your friends avoid during the holiday season, but you heard that they were hosting auditions for Santa this year. Rumor has it, that someone super attractive got it. Again, you’re not one to go man-hunting at a crowded mall with children and families running everywhere, but here you are.
Your dating life hasn’t been all that great. It mostly consists of hookups and one-night stands that can never get you to orgasm. Only your pink ice cream clit vibrator has ever been able to do the job, so you’re hoping to come here and maybe meet a willing Santa to take home. Maybe if you sit on his lap and wish for orgasms, he’ll be inclined to give you one.
It’s worth a shot.
“I can’t believe you’re going to do this,” your friend, Beth, says.
“What? Men who audition for Santa usually aren’t men from this town. They’re all married and they don’t want to take the joy away from their kids. Whoever it is, is from out of town, which means he can be hot, single, and eager for a hookup.”
“I thought you were done with those.”
“No, I am done with hookups from men who only think about themselves. I’ll be able to take one look at this Santa and know if he can jingle my bells if you know what I mean.”
Beth laughs and shakes her head. “I don’t think parents would allow their children to sit on a sexy man’s lap.”
“Only one way to find out. Come on.”
The area where kids are meeting Santa is already crowded with families, and the line is already three stores down from the start. When Dean heard about the Santa auditions, he put in his name when he was drunk. What harm would it do if he decided to be Santa for a night? On one hand, he can make a lot of children’s days by being Santa. On the other hand, he could meet a kid’s single mom or their sexy aunt and take them home. It’s a win-win.
“Okay, I thought you were joking before, but you’re really going to do this?” Sam asks his brother.
Dean pulls on the red coat and smirks at his brother. “Hot chicks, Sammy.”
“Kids, Dean.”
Dean shrugs. “It comes with the job. Just go find something to do. This shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”
“You’re relentless.”
“Dedicated, Sam,” Dean smirks.
Sam rolls his eyes and leaves the room. He decides to head back to the motel room instead of sticking around. Dean finishes getting ready and walks out with one of the mall coordinators. As soon as the kids see him, they cheer at the thought of being with Santa even for a minute. He stays true to his character and plays the best Santa he can be for the kids also while looking out for anyone single and willing to go home with him.
“Looks to me like he’s a regular guy,” Beth says to you as you inch closer to the front of the line.
“Beth, you are married so I don’t expect you to see this but I caught a glimpse of him as he was putting his costume on. I think he was carved by the Gods themselves.”
“You’re relentless,” she rolls her eyes.
“What? I am just trying to participate in Christmas traditions.”
“You don’t even have any kids.”
“I’m practicing…?”
“By asking Santa for,” she lowers her voice to a whisper, “orgasms?”
“Yes.”
Beth laughs, and you get closer to the front of the line. Dean takes a picture with one of the little girls who just asked for a pony when he locks eyes with you. For just a few seconds, it’s like time has slowed down just for the two of you. Even from where you’re standing, you can see how green his eyes are.
“Next!” the mall attendant yells.
“Good luck,” Beth whispers and steps off to the side where the parents wait.
The mall attendant gives you a weird look, especially when you step up on the platform where Dean is. She doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it even though you’re getting some dirty looks from parents in line.
“Well, who do we have here? What’s your name?” Dean drawls when you sit on his lap.
“Y/N.”
“And have you been a good girl this year?”
You smirk when you hear the double meaning in his words.
“Oh, I’ve been a very bad girl.”
Dean’s eyes darken. “You know the deal. Bad girls don’t get presents.”
“Might you make an exception?”
He licks his lips, and you can’t help but watch his tongue. “I might. Depends on what you want.”
You lean in so that your mouth is close to your ear. You don’t need everyone in the mall to hear this.
“Orgasms.”
“Bad girl or not, I think I can help with that.”
“I’d hope you would,” you grin.
“Meet me after in front of Barnes and Noble.”
You forgo the picture and leave to give the kids what they came here for. Dean shifts in his seat to hide the erection you gave him. He’s not trying to scar any children or piss off any parents.
“Did you ask him?” Beth asks when you walk away from the place.
“Yes. God, he was so much more attractive up close. He was so… firm. I’m going to meet him after he’s done. Thank you for coming with me.”
“Anytime. I have to get back to Jared. He already started drinking eggnog without me.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know how it goes,” you wink.
You wait anxiously in front of Barnes and Noble until the very last child has had her turn with Santa. The more you’re by yourself, the more you psych yourself out. Was this a good idea? You don’t even know the man. He could be a murderer for all you know. Okay, maybe not that but he could have dark secrets in his closet.
Before you can convince yourself to leave, a man who you believe is Santa walks over to you wearing flannel, jeans, and a black jacket.
“So, have you decided if you want to be naughty or nice?”
“Whichever is more fun,” you grin.
“Naughty it is.” He holds his hand out and you take it. “I’m Dean.”
“Y/N, but you already know that.”
He even has a hot car. Once you see the shiny black Impala, you decide you’re going to milk Dean for everything he’s got before he leaves. He might very well be the best one-night stand you’ll ever have.
Dean takes you back to his motel room where Sam is reading a lore book. He looks up when the door opens, and he shakes his head when he sees his brother isn’t alone.
“Out, Sammy.”
“Dude.”
“Would you rather watch me fuck her?”
“That’s something I’m not opposed to if you’re into that sort of thing,” you say.
“No, thanks,” Sam pouts. “I’m going to get a room far from yours.”
As soon as Sam leaves, Dean pulls you into him and presses light kisses down your neck.
“So, are you going to unwrap me?”
“Damn right, I am, and I’m going to take all night to do it.” Dean lays you down on the bed and runs his hands down your legs. “Are you wet for me?”
“Undress me and find out.”
Dean practically rips your clothes away, and you don’t even think about needing them tomorrow at the moment. All you want right now is his mouth and fingers on you. Dean cups your pussy and runs two fingers through your slit to confirm that yes, you are wet and ready for him. He falls to his knees and you spread your legs open wide for him.
He grips your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed before burying his face between your legs. Some of the men you’ve been with hated going down on you, so you haven’t had a man down there in a while. Just the simple act of Dean sliding his tongue through your folds is enough to bring a squeal out of you.
“Fuck, Dean, that feels so good,” you moan and grab his hair.
“Good. I’m not stopping until you’re dripping down my chin.”
Dean massaged your clit with his tongue before sliding down to your entrance. He tongues you rapidly while rubbing your clit with his thumb. You can’t come unless your clit is stimulated, but you honestly think Dean could just lick you and you’d explode for him. Maybe you’ll test that theory later tonight when you go for another round. Dean is the kind of man you go multiple rounds with.
“Shit, Dean, that feels so good. I’m gonna come.”
“Come all over my face.”
You don’t wait another second before exploding around his tongue, and he laps up every drop you’re giving him.
“God, you taste like Heaven,” Dean moans.
He kisses your clit once before standing up. You stand and kiss him even though you can taste yourself on his lips. You undress him until you’re both naked, and he turns you so that you’re facing the bed. He gently pushes down on your back until you’re on your hands and knees, and he grips your hips and tugs you hard enough for you to lose your balance. You fall face first on the bed with your ass in the air, just how he wants you.
He grabs the base of his cock and squeezes to prevent his release from coming too soon. He pumps twice before sliding the head of his cock between your pussy lips.
“Dean, skip the formalities. Please, fuck me.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
He grabs both sides of your hips and slides into your pussy slowly so that you can feel every inch. You gasp from the stretch but he doesn’t stop until you’re completely full of him. You grip the sheets and push back into him as much as you can from your position. Dean pulls out only to slam back in, and you can’t help the loud moan from coming out.
“Fuck, Y/N, how are you so tight?”
“You feel so good, Dean,” you moan.
Thankfully Sam isn’t next door or else he’d hear the sound of skin slapping against skin and your beautiful moans.
“Rub your clit for me, baby. Get yourself closer to the edge. I want to come with you.”
You reach down and rub your clit in fast hard circles. It’s been so long that you’re approaching the edge faster than you’d thought you would.
“Fuck, Dean, I’m close again.”
“Come all over my cock.”
You do as he says and explode all around him. You squeeze his cock several times which brings Dean over the edge. He slows his thrusting to ride out both of your highs until neither of you can give anything more. He pulls out of you and falls onto the bed next to you.
“I hope you’ve got more than one round in you.”
He smirks. “Baby, I can go all night.”
You love Christmas time.
x
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#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester angst#dean winchester smut#supernatural#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fluff#supernatural angst#supernatural smut
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୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ modern!eren jaeger x reader
you begin to think that maybe it was a bad idea to bring eren to the amusement park when the small group of kids runs off with snotty noses and whining cries after losing to him at the squirt gun game.
but you just laugh, turning to him and his smug smile.
“eren, you could have at least given them a chance.”
eren shrugs, puffing his chest out. “i don’t see why, i kicked their asses.”
“they’re kids!”
“tch, they’ll have plenty of time to win, they’re young. me, though, i gotta establish my dominance.”
he makes a ridiculous show of flexing his muscles as you burst into a giggle fit. both of you have forgotten the carnie standing behind you until he clears his throat. “which prize will you be taking, sir?”
eren flushes and clears his throat, trying to regain his bearings.
“i’ll take, uh…” he glances over at you and sees you staring in awe at a giant teddy bear with a green bow-tie. “i’ll take that one. please. thanks.”
the carnie takes it off the hook and gives it to eren, returning to his place behind the counter.
“i- oof!” it’s heavier than eren expected and while it’s not exactly a brick, it’s still rather large. “who the fuck made these things so heavy?”
he hauls the bear away awkwardly to free up the game for the next round of people, you trailing close behind. you’re still staring at the bear over eren’s shoulder. he glances back over at you and stops in his tracks, eyes roaming your face.
the infuriatingly endearing curve of your mouth in a surprised ‘o’ and then quirking into an adorable smile. the way your eyes flutter shut from how wide your smile is, the slight lift of your shoulders like the happiness inside you manifested into a force that could lift you off your feet.
“here.”
your eyes go big and your cheeks tinge pink as eren holds out the bear to you. you shake your head quickly. “what? no, i can’t…i mean, you won it.”
he scoffs and clicks his tongue. “what am i gonna do with it? here, you can add it to your fuckin’ collection. don’t even lie, i’ve seen ‘em on your bed. you don’t even try to hide them.”
your cheeks flush even more pink, along with the tips of your ears. you laugh bashfully. “yeah. i guess. but i really-“
“just take it already,” eren sighs, huffing like he’s irritated but really he’s just trying to cover up his blush.
you hesitantly reach out as eren drops the bear into your arms.
he laughs when the momentum of the large bear drags you down with it, nearly collapsing like a sack of flour.
butterflies erupt in his stomach when you make a little ‘oof’ sound and try to regain your balance. eren chuckles and takes your hand in one of his own, the other reaching out to rescue to poor bear just inches away from the dirty floor.
“c’mon, you klutz,” he snorts, helping you to your feet. “i’ll carry him for you, okay?”
you shake your head in a daze. “you say that like you didn’t buckle under it when you grabbed it first, too. but thanks.”
eren just hums, hoisting the bear onto his back and taking your hand, continuing to wander the park with you.
“what’re you gonna name him? don’tcha have a whole ritual and everything?”
you giggle. “i don’t know. what does he look like his name is?”
eren pretends to think it over, glancing back at the bear smiling pleasantly at him.
“i think he looks like a ‘big pain in the ass’.”
“eren, stop it! you’re verbally abusing him,” you whine, but you’re laughing. “maybe i’ll name him armin. so he’s not mean, like you.”
“no freakin’ way you’re naming him after armin! did armin win this for you?”
“jesus, eren, just tell me to name my firstborn after you,” you snort, petting the stuffed bear between its ears.
“you definitely should. i’ll even name my firstborn after you.”
you laugh, reaching a hand up to smack playfully at eren. “who would ever put up with you long enough to marry you?”
eren catches your hand easily, intertwining your fingers and says nothing, instead smiling warmly down at you.
you would, i hope.
you take a seat on a bench, admiring the light from the sun sinking low to the horizon and washing the entire park in golden hues.
“i would,” you state firmly, and eren turns to look at you in surprise, mortified that somehow you were able to read his mind.
“huh?”
“i’d marry you,” you repeat matter-of-factly. “like if you were about to get deported, i’d marry you to keep you here. or if you had a secret uncle who left you a huge inheritance but you had to be married to get it, i’d do it. or like if we were in olden medieval times, if i had to have an arranged marriage, i’d pick you.”
eren just stares at you dumbfoundedly. “what the fuck?”
you were weird. he knew that. you’re prone to spout nonsense. it’s part of what he likes about you. in what scenario would eren be deported? he was born here. and what chance would he have of getting some huge inheritance from some relative he didn’t know? and how in the world would you ever end up in a medieval situation? but nonetheless his cheeks are still red and his heart is still beating fast. you’d pick him. he knew you didn’t explicitly mean that you’re romantically interested in him, but still, it made his heart jump in his chest to know that of everybody you knew (and that was a lot because you’re something of a social butterfly) you’d pick him. it didn’t matter for what, you would pick him.
he smiles and you beam up at him.
“i’d pick you too,” he hums, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you close. you giggle, nuzzling your head in his neck.
it feels warm and just right, the way you fit into his arms. like maybe it was meant to be.
#i feel like eren w/out the trauma would just be stupid LMAO#i love him#modern eren has my heart#eren x reader#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger#eren yeager#eren yeager x reader#aot#aot x reader#aot fluff#eren fluff#attack on titan#snk#shingeki no kyojin#snk fluff#snk x reader#aot eren#kitty.writes!
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the paths we didn't take (cl16)
part1!
multipart story!
Summary : Years ago, Charles Leclerc and Y/N promised to let each other go—for his dreams, for her freedom. No calls, no texts, just memories they buried deep. But when fate reunites them in Monaco, old scars and unresolved feelings resurface. Some loves are unforgettable, but can they find their way back, or is it too late?
✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader
Chapter 1: "The Beginning of Us"
The Leclerc and Y/L/N families had always been close. Sunday barbecues, summer trips, and late-night dinners were traditions neither family ever missed. It was during one such Sunday afternoon, the sun high over the Monaco coastline, that eight-year-old Charles Leclerc turned to his best friend Y/N and grinned.
“You have ketchup on your nose, Y/N.”
Y/N scrunched her nose, trying to see it, which only made Charles laugh harder. “Stop laughing and tell me where!”
“Here.” He reached out, swiping her nose with his thumb, then smirked. “Actually, now it’s on your cheek too.”
“Charles!” she yelled, chasing him around the backyard while their parents laughed from the patio.
“They’re like an old married couple already,” Pascale Leclerc said, shaking her head fondly.
“Give them a few years,” Y/N’s mom replied, smirking. “I bet they’ll be inseparable.”
And they were. By the time they hit middle school, the teasing had only gotten worse. At every family gathering, there was always someone who couldn’t resist making a comment.
“Mon petit amour, can you pass the bread?” Charles teased during a family dinner one night.
Y/N’s cheeks turned crimson. “Don’t call me that!”
“What? It’s cute,” Charles said with a grin, handing her the bread.
“You’re insufferable.”
“You’re blushing.”
“Am not.”
“Are too,” Charles shot back, leaning closer, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.
Their parents just shook their heads, sharing knowing smiles.
By eighth grade, everyone’s suspicions were confirmed when Charles showed up at Y/N’s house with a bouquet of daisies and a sheepish grin.
“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“I, uh…” Charles scratched the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at her. “I wanted to ask if… you know… you’d maybe want to go out with me?”
Y/N blinked. “Charles, we’re fourteen. Where are you even planning to take me?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, cheeks flushing. “But I just… I like you, okay? And I thought maybe you’d like me too.”
Y/N’s lips twitched, fighting back a smile. “You’re an idiot.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes, it’s a yes,” she laughed, pulling him into a hug.
From that day on, Charles and Y/N were inseparable. They were that couple—the one everyone envied but couldn’t help rooting for. Charles would show up to her soccer games, cheering louder than anyone else.
“Allez, Y/N!” he’d yell, jumping up and down. “That’s my girlfriend!”
“Shut up, Charles!” she’d shout from the field, though she couldn’t help smiling.
And in return, Y/N was always there for him. Through karting wins and heartbreaking losses, she was his rock.
“You’re going to be great,” she whispered after a particularly tough race when Charles came in second.
“I let everyone down,” he mumbled, staring at the floor of the garage.
“You didn’t let me down,” she said softly, taking his face in her hands. “And you never could. Second place today means first place tomorrow.”
He smiled then, leaning into her touch. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“Absolutely nothing,” she teased, making him laugh.
By senior year, they’d been together for nearly five years. Everyone said they were a match made in heaven.
“Remember when we were kids, and I said you’d marry me one day?” Charles teased one night as they sat on the roof of his house, looking out at the glittering lights of Monaco.
Y/N snorted. “You also said you’d grow a full beard by now, but look how that turned out.”
“Hey! It’s coming in… slowly.”
She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.
She sighed, closing her eyes. “Yeah, I do char.”
And in that moment, it felt like they had all the time in the world. They didn’t know then how quickly everything would change.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
taglist : @jenxjar @noam-rosier-icr @prttylight @gluecksbaerchieee
@janeh22 @tobucina @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @weekendlusting
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles lecrelc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x female!reader#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula one#y/n#best friends#ava speaks#charles leclerc fanfic
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TOLD YALL. CL16
in which charles leclerc and y/n y/l/n aren’t very good at hiding their relationship.
warnings: I don’t think there is any thing that needs a warning unless you get triggered by love or happiness.
AN — haven’t written in awhile, but hope you all enjoy this!
WHITE FERRARI (f1) NAVIGATION (main info centre)
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yourusername
liked by pierregasly, danielriccardo and 123,911,919 others
yourusername your favourite best friends are together again! tagged: charlesleclerc
view 10.811 comments . . .
username ‘best friends’
username did the whole of the grid go karting with y/n, cause if so, I wanna know who won even thought it was probs max. ⤷ charlesleclerc it was actually y/n, she won every race and put all of us to shame.
danielricciardo I am winning the next game!! ⤷ yourusername keep dreaming.
username y’all ever gonna announce the relationship? ⤷ username at this rate I won’t be surprised if we only get told when they’re married have six kids. ⤷ yourusername um no.
charlesleclerc love the shirt, my helmet looks great on you. ⤷ yourusername it’s my helmet now. ⤷ charlesleclerc do I even get a say in this? ⤷ yourusername no.
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─── “DO YOU THINK WE SHOULD JUST TELL THEM?” you asked, looking up from your phone to look at your boyfriend.
“let them suffer a little longer.” charles laughed, a smile on his face as he lifted his head off his phone.
“that’s mean, and they already know that we’re dating, they’re just waiting for us to confirm.” you told him, leaning your head against the sofa giving the man a soft smile.
“we’ll do it tomorrow, right now i want to finish watching rio.” he spoke with a promising voice making you smile more then before as you both played the film that you had been watching previously.
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charlesleclerc made a story !
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I love you too ❤️
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#𓂅 . ── matchaskiiess writes ✧ 。゚・#𓂅 . ── driverlist *⋆。˚#my fic#my writing#oneshots#drabbles#f1 x reader#love#romance#ferrari#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc#my fics#f1 x y/n#f1 instagram au#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1#formual one
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Right Where You Left Me
Bucky Barnes x reader
Requested: no
Summary: Bucky found his fiance from the 1940s, but she isn't his fiance anymore.
Warnings: ANGST, use of y/n (ONLY TWICE AND IN PASSING), talks of dementia and religion.
Inspiration: Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift
A/N: Combining my two favorite things, Bucky Barnes and Taylor Swift. Religion is vague in this btw
Bucky's POV:
She looks so beautiful. So, so beautiful. I imagined her like this so often.
But I imagined the situation differently. I imagined myself either six feet under or in a bed right next to hers. Our hands touching, or if we could, hop into each other’s beds for the night.
But that’s all just a fantasy.
Right now, she’s there, across the hallway. I can barely see into her room, curtains blocking me from her face. All I can see is her hands, her quilted blanket, and her grandson.
Her grandson.
Her’s
That’s not even the worst part; he’s technically older than me. Or, he looks older than me, aged more than I have. He even has kids of his own, a boy and a girl.
She has a great-grandson and a great-granddaughter.
I want to walk in and see her face, speak to her, but I’m terrified. There are two possible outcomes if I walk in there, and both are paired with an unimaginable heartbreak that hurts to just think about. She could either recognize me or not. If she sees my face and knows who I am, she might hate me. And if she doesn’t, it’ll break me.
If she recognizes me, I don’t know if she’ll see the good times or the bad. The last time I saw her broke both of us, her more than me. That’s what scares me the most.
• • • • • •
“Tomorrow?” Her voice cracks. Slow tears fall down her cheeks as she quickly wipes them off.
It feels like the whole diner is looking at us, but the truth is no one cares. Everyone is so wrapped up in their own shit they don’t care about the couple in the back corner being torn apart by the war; they’re probably worried they’ll have to do the same soon. We’re the future to them.
I nod and rub my thumb on the back of her free hand. It’s taking every ounce of strength I have to not start tearing up with her. I need to be strong for her. I need to be hopeful for both of us. “I’m so sorry, doll. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
Drafted. Enlisting is one thing, but being drafted is something different. Steve begged me to join him, but I said no. Claiming I would after y/n and I got married at city hall. Even if we were able to follow through with those plans, I wouldn’t be able to leave her. She would’ve kept me here just by waking up next to me. But none of that mattered now. Our future plans would have to be put on hold for a while.
Her tears pick up the pace, causing a bit of mascara to chase after the tear. She wipes it off then looks at her finger, the black clumping next to her nail.
“Please don’t cry, darling.” My voice starts to shake, but I push it back. “I’ll be back. I promise I’ll be back.”
She shakes her and pulls her hands away. “No, no don’t do that.” She wipes her tears again; this time, there weren’t any that followed. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She looks me in the eyes and brings her hands back to mine. “I have two friends already who are widows, and both of their husbands made promises. Promises are bad luck.”
I nod at her now. I know exactly what she’s talking about. There’s been a lot of letters recently, not from the soldiers but from the government, all starting with, “We regret to inform you” and ending with “Our deepest condolences.”
“When tomorrow do you leave?” Her voice was quiet but less sad. It was more of a matter-of-fact tone.
“Early morning.” Early, very early. It's too early to get to the courthouse tomorrow before I have to leave. Too early to get a marriage license. Too early in every aspect of the word. It’s too early to leave her. Too early for anything.
“Does Steve know?”
I shake my head again. “No, I’m telling him after this, though.”
“Are we still going to the Stark Expo tonight?” A small smile creeps up on her face. She’s trying to lighten the mood, and it’s working. I can’t feel anything but pure joy looking at her face.
“Of course, doll.”
• • • • • •
The other option is that she doesn’t remember me at all. How would I approach her then? I haven’t gotten the courage to go into her room yet, but her family has to reintroduce themselves every time they go to visit. Their voices stay sad, and every conversation they have is the same. Pleasantries and them updating her on their lives. She doesn’t say much besides a few “oh” and “Is that right?” She never uses their names or asks more questions. I don’t think she would be able to.
The word “dementia” is thrown around a lot by her nurses. Recently “Lewy body” has been added to it. They also say Alzheimer’s a lot when looking at her charts. That cluster of words is enough to fill me with dread. I want to take all of this away from her. I want her mind to be perfectly sound, I want to be in a hospital bed with her, and I want to be the man who has to keep reintroducing himself as her husband. But I can’t. All I can do is listen to the nurses from a distance. My time for seeing her is running out, it won’t be long before I’ve missed my opportunity. She won’t be around for much longer.
Her grandson leaves the room while holding his son’s hand, the baby back in the car seat on his arm. Tears are in his eyes, but he’s trying to hide them in front of his kids, not wanting to upset them.
Through the window, I can still see her hands. She fiddles with the quilt a bit, but they don’t move much. They don’t look like the hands I held years and years ago, but mine don’t look the same either. Scars outline mine just like age does to her’s.
Is it crazy to think someone’s hands look beautiful?
A small chime goes off the speakers, indicating that there are ten minutes left in visiting hours. The halls will be cleared soon, medicine will be passed out, and lights will be turned off.
Ever since I’ve come to visit her in the hospice facility, “soon” has been another word that is thrown around when they mention her.
She’ll be out of pain soon.
She’ll be reunited with her loved ones soon.
She’ll be leaving us soon.
I don’t have any more time to just sit here; “soon” will run out eventually.
The hallways are almost clear, and the nurses move to their stations and the medicine cabinet to prepare for bedtime.
This is my chance. My brain doesn’t comprehend what my body is doing when I stalk down the hallway and into the doorway. It wasn’t more than a second before our eyes lock.
Her eyes. Her eyes are still so perfect. They haven’t changed at all. Still soft, bright, and expressive. They have always been so beautiful, so why, at this very moment I’m speechless? I’m sure I’ve seen them over a million times in my life, but they are even better than I remember. Her eyes bring back more memories, ones I was sure were lost forever when Hydra took them. I remember remembering them during my time as the Winter Soldier. They brought me peace then. They’re bringing me peace now, too. They even give me courage. At least enough to look at the rest of her face.
Her face. The face I was so scared I wasn’t going to recognize was in front of me. Why was I so scared? I couldn’t forget it even if I tried. It’s been decades. Smile, frown, and laugh lines sculpted in, but I feel like they were always supposed to be there. They were mapped out years ago but finally took their rightful place.
She looks so beautiful. So perfect.
Her eyes change when she sees me, but there isn’t confusion behind her eyes. There’s relief.
“We’ll look who it is.” She smiles softly. “I thought you were going to be at work all day.” She removes her blanket and swivels her torso, trying to get out of the bed. She hasn’t been able to move like this in a long time; why is it happening now?
“You know who I am?” My voice is so quiet, so stuck in the back of my throat that I’m scared I might lose it.
“James, I know who you are. Not quit messing around and come here.” She giggles and tries to swing her legs to the side of the bed. Her wrist shakingly grabs the railing next to her, the deteriorated muscles using everything they can to pull her out of that bed. Her arms outstretched gently, hands reaching towards me. “Could you help me, Buck?”
I feel like I’m outside my body. Is this even real life? She knows me. Not recognize, knows. I place my hands in hers, too wrapped up in the moment to worry about my arm. Would she notice? Do I care if she notices? No, not really.
She rubs her thumbs over my hands, something she does to provide comfort. Comfort for what? Does she know what day it is?
“Can you help me out of this bed, Buck? I’m tired of sitting here.” She moves uncomfortably and sighs when she realizes she can’t get up by herself.
I pull away only for a moment to pull up a chair next to her bed. “I’m sorry, doll, but you need to stay here a bit longer.” I keep my voice quiet, wanting to keep her here at this moment.
She just nods, her mind too tired to fight with the logic.
“I don’t have to go anymore.” Her eyes go wide; tears fill them and threaten to spill out. “The war is done, and I get to stay here with you.” Her hands go to cover her mouth, a few rouge tears fall from her eyes.
“Really? Please tell me you’re telling the truth, James. This has to be true.” She moves her hand back down to grasp mine, revealing her hopeful smile.
“It’s all true. I’m not going anywhere.” I bring her hand to my lips and softly kiss it. A small, relieved laugh leaves her, and a few more tears come out.
“C-can we still go to city hall? I want to marry you, Bucky. I don’t want a wedding I want to be married tomorrow.”
“Of course, darling, of course.”
• • • • • •
Two days later, I didn’t even have to read the paper. I was met with her eyes one final time…
Sadly, right above it was the title of the column: Obituaries
A/n: Request are open! Look at guidelines and taglist info😚
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes angst#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#winter soldier#the winter solider x reader
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please more dadrry i am begging you. literally on my knees right now. i need more he is genuinely the hottest man ever and i am delusional enough to believe i am married to him. PLEASE
LOVE ME LIKE YOU DO
SUMMARY Y/n and Harry have sex in the kitchen.
CONTENT WARNING, smut (Minors DNI), UNPROTECTED KITCHEN SEX, oral (fem receive), creamiepie
WORD COUNT 3,582 words
i don’t know if you want smut or fluff so i gave you heavy smut:) we all love dadrry! enjoy this till the next harry x angel is out.
“I’m sorry, daddy,” The small child apologizes softly with her voice full of innocence, when the small blue cup tips and the lemonade spills on her father’s grey t-shirt, immediately printing a dark patch on the fabric. Fortunately, Harry caught the cup before it could drop on the floor. Harry’s quick to give his child an assuring smile, shaking his head. The cool beverage sinking into his shirt, sticking against his skin uncomfortably, but he’s brushing it off, not wanting his baby to think they did wrong.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s not a big problem, just a little spill, alright?” The little girl nods then scoops up a spoon full of mac and cheese while her dad grabbed napkins for his shirt.
A curious Y/n walked out of the laundry room just to see her husband removing his t-shirt. As old as they were, the years they’ve been together, it never failed to make her heart skip a beat. The back muscles came into view. As if she was 18 all over again, seeing this beautiful tatted teen for the first time. His toned back and his tense muscles relax as he finally got the wet cotton off him.
When he turns to see his wife he nodded towards her, acknowledging her presence in the room.
“What’s going on in here?” Harry’s head swoons l to the warm chirp of his wife’s voice. She stands in her dark red pajama silk set, her hair tied up, the sight forming immediate heart eyes in his pupils.
Their son was first to speak out, “She spilled her juice on Daddy!” Maeve’s eyebrows knitted as she’s appalled her brother called her out. “No, no. It was an accident,” She whined, dropping her small spoon on her plate.
“It was an accident, darling. Don’t worry about it anymore. You two finish up soon.” Harry told his his daughter before looking up at Y/n asking, “Did you already throw in the load?” He asks, patting down the damp area, the smell of lemon reflecting off him. He walked closer to Y/n, who gave him a nod.
“Yes, but thankfully I didn’t start it yet. I came out when I heard… this.” She grinned, referring to his wet shirt. She steps closer to him taking the shirt from his hands saying, “I’ll take this. Can you get the plates in the sink and baths ready?”
“Yes and yes. Thank you, love,” he said, pressing an innocent kiss to his wife’s temple with an arm around the small of her back. Little did he know that started a fire in her.
Being in love for almost two decades now, had four kids, and he still turned her on. Not much has changed. Yes, he grew a little belly but the dad bod look on him turned her on more. Yes, he grew a bit grey but it was even hotter. He was still the sexiest man she’s ever met. This weekend resulted in two out of their four children being home. For the weekend, their thirteen-year-old daughter and fifteen-year-old son spent the night at their friends’ house. Fortunately, they’re together because the friends are also siblings and Y/n and Harry trusted their parents, Ruth and Austin, considering they have been friends for years. They missed the kids, greatly. But it wasn’t like they were fully free to do whatever. They still had the two youngest in the house, and usually, they are a handful when their older siblings are around to bother them. But now they don’t have anyone to both but each other.
Harry and Y/n’s sex life was probably better than the average married couple’s with four kids. Although, as the kids grew older and more to themselves, Harry found himself getting less private time with his wife. The teens became teens who stayed up past midnight, whether it’s listening to music, binging their favorite shows, playing a video game, or on FaceTime with their friends, they were up. The two parents didn’t completely lack a sex life because they were always willing to have each other— just depending on the circumstances.
The rest of the night she couldn’t help but have butterflies in her tummy whenever her husband would do something. He looked really hot. A little excited she got that familiar feeling of arousal in her core as much as it pained her all night.
But about 30 minutes after the kids baths, they were sleeping safe and sound. Just tucked in by their mommy, hugs and kisses from both mommy and daddy. Y/n finally was able to act of her arousal. Walking down the stairs to see Harry was scrubbing the plates, deciding it’ll be quicker if he hand washed. His wife watched as his hand moved with the soapy towel he scrubbed with.
Y/n walked behind him, the sudden hand on his back made him jump a bit. “It’s just me,” She chuckled. He smiled as she pecked his shoulder comfortably. The kids are sound asleep,” She told him.
“Yeah? Did you check on Lily and Eli yet?” Harry asked on the children who weren’t in the house at the moment. It was hard enough to let them hang out with friends let alone a sleepover. But as the kids got older it got a little more easier to be more trusting of them not the outside world. They were mature, honest, trusting teens. It made the couple feel a whole lot better since they became friends with two siblings and are with each other all the time. Every other hour, they would shoot out a text to one of the teens phones, just making sure they’re okay. Always a good morning and goodnight text.
Y/n hummed softly against his soft skin. “Yes. Ruth told me they ordered pizza tonight,” She watched as his veins that were in his hands poked out as the dish soap fell down his wrist. Her stomach churning and her head gone black for a second as he scrubbed Maeve’s plate. He smelt delightful, she couldn’t put a exactly a name to it though. But it was making her even more horny.
That’s when Y/n inhaled and exhaled deeply, her breaths making the hairs in Harry’s skin stand up. She called his name gently. The little nickname, H, making his ears grow to listen to whatever his love was to say next. The hand of the woman trails on his back and across his muscles. “What do you say you and I head back to the bedroom, hmm?” She questions sweetly, though her voice is seducing as she stroked his tatted arm, watching as he stopped scrubbing the pan and looked down at his wife. So beautiful. Her eyes gleaming up at him.
Then, Harry began to feel her touch grow less innocent.
Harry turned to take a peak up at the staircase like he expected two little feet to ruin what could’ve been/ what was about to happen. His brows raise, “Really? Right now?” Already growing excited in short anticipation. She nodded, “Please.” Harry’s hands let the plastic plate he was washing fall inside the sink, clashing with pans. Before she could make a complaint about the loud noise, he grabbed her face in his hands, closing her mouth shut. She’s quick to note the change of demeanor and the meaning in his eyes that soon turned lustful. His grasp on her face making her arousal release from her, unwillingly. Pressing their lips together, Harry kisses her passionately, swearing to not waste this moment.
His lips top hers as he took the breath she breathed out. Allowing him to take control of her and the kiss. Harry tilted his head as did his wife, their lips fitting together like puzzle pieces. A fuzzy-headed Y/n pulls away from the kiss, due to her lack of air, “Fuck, H,” She huffed out mid-kiss, the opening of her mouth allowing his tongue to hungrily sweep past her lips and lick inside her mouth. Hands now on her waist, moving her back until her bum hit the kitchen island.
They made out like they needed this. They made out like two horny teens who only see each other two days of week. They made out like they were desperate for each others touch. Her hands met the back of his head, gripping his curls, prying him away from her mouth. Her intentions were to tell him to take this to the bedroom but his eyes dart to the view of her neck and dive down to hungrily suck on the skin. Savoring her flavor, sucking feverishly on her skin. His hands finding anywhere on her body. Her hips, her ass, her thighs.
Y/n pulled back from the kiss, eyes locked on Harry’s swollen lips pink lips that were soon shining when he darted his tongue across. The breathtaking woman in front of him is about breathless. Wanting more of her, Harry pulled her closer going in for another kiss but she pulled back again. “Fuck, baby. Let’s take this to the bedroom,” She moaned, trying her hardest not to prop herself up on the counter and have him fuck her right then and there. But it’s like he read her mind. Harry says, “How about I take you right here?” He replies huskily against her skin causing her thighs to tremble, and voice to stutter. Before she knew it he’s muttering the word, jump, and she’s hoisted up in his arms, letting him slide her on the counter. She was too horny to turn down his idea.
Running her fingertips on his broad naked shoulders, flames traveling through him. His cock grows harder the more her hands are on him and the more she moans against him. “We gotta keep it really low,” He tells her, sinking down to his knees as his fingers hook on the waistband of her pajamas. Once they’re down to her ankles, Harry doesn’t bother finishing the job because once he sees the wet patch in her red underwear he loses it. He huffs out a low, fuck, and let’s his hands ride up her thick thighs.
Y/n peaks down at her husband, making heart clenching eye contact but it breaks when her eyes trail down to his lips. A wide smirk spreads. “Shit, you’re so wet, honey.” He chuckled, almost mockingly. No shit, she thought. “You’ve must’ve been like this all night all huh, baby?” His voice is in a cooing tone as if he was mocking the act of sympathy. He rises up to his feet, placing himself in between his love’s thighs. His palm gets hot as it finds it way against her clothed pussy. That sensitive area heated and aching for attention.
She sucks in a sharp breath as his fingers clamp and he grips her pussy. Huffing out a desperate, yes, her voice is low, afraid she’ll awake her sleeping children. Gripping in the counter, practically bruising her fingertips. “Can you fuck me please?”
Her husband completely dismisses her question before asking, “You like when I do that to your pussy, hmm, darling?” Receiving a nod from his wife, he pats her sensitive clothed cunt like a dog, an unholy moan slipping from her throat. She answers, “Yes I do.”
“It’s been so long since I’ve actually been in you huh? Bet you all tight and shit, huh?”
She nods mindlessly, mentally begging him to just fuck her but damn he was enjoying himself. “I am, Harry,” She whimpered hopelessly. Ending her sentence with a small, please, a whimper following, as she did a small grind with her hips against his hand.
At this point, Harry’s breaths are hitting Y/n’s face as he slid his hand inside the waistband of her underwear, making her breath hitch and her to grip the countertop. Immediately going to her clit, pressing down and rubbing softly. She moans, throwing her head back, hair falling back on the counter.
Harry discreetly slipped one finger her small hole, her hole so soaping wet he just slid in. Tight, she was. She lets out a raspy, fuck, grinding her bare bum against the counter.
Harry leans in, allowing her to grab onto his shoulders, soon wrapping her arms around his neck. “Oh my fucking—” She digs her fingernails into the back of Harry’s neck as he slips in his ring finger.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re suffocating my fingers, baby.” He chuckles lightly, fingering her feverishly. “So. Fucking. Tight,” He purrs against her lips, licking into her agape mouth, finally locking their lips together after teasing her. He plunged his fingers inside her soapy, cock-deprived cunt. Crooking both fingers as she threw her head back at the toe curling sensation. She let out an unholy cry and mewl when her thighs tense as Harry finger fucks her so good.
Harry’s tongue plays with hers, getting all of her tastebuds. Savoring the taste of each other, the two moan as Y/n’s arousal trails down Harrys wrist. He continues the amazing pace and in and out—crooking motion with his fingers as she release a like of curse words when her first orgasm of the night is near. Repeatedly hitting her g-spot, Harry talks her through as he breathing gets out of rhythm. His words go muffled as her breathing and moans get louder.
The last words she heart before her orgasm were…
“Feels like forever since Ive been in you.”
“You’re going to come, babe? I know, I know.”
“Cum on my fingers, baby.”
His words are her confirmation. Her thighs shook, her feet banged gently against the lower cabinet as Harry’s eyes roll over her whole body. She trembled as her toes curled, her stomach churned, and eyes rolled back just as her cum slowly spills out onto Harry’s digits.
A high pitched moan crawls up her throat and out her mouth, she rides out her orgasm on the pads of his fingers. Her breaths are quick and uneven. Desperate to catch her breath. “There you go, so pretty. Fucking gorgeous,” He praised and guided his wife through it. Her around hooked around his neck lightened up and slid down his naked torso.
“Fuck,” Y/n heard the low groan causing her to look up to see her husband looking off her cum off his fingers. “So sweet,” He purrs. Harry looks down, making Y/n follow his gaze. His cock was fighting against the shackles of his sweatpants. “I’m not done yet, baby. My cock is so hard. Jus’ know it was jealous when it saw my fingers fucking you,” he smirks.
“Want you inside me. N-now,” She huffs, her cunt still desperate. “Please.” She watched as Harry began to pull down his sweats, peaking down as he did also began to pull down briefs. The skin of his cock is seen and she grows impatient. Her breathing just getting back to steady rhythm, her whines a little louder than before, muttering the word, hurry.
Harry shudders as the cool air of the kitchen hits his cock, that shoots up when he finally gets his pants down. Y/n whines, “God— H, please.” She doesn’t know the last time she seen his cock. Most likely last week for an early morning shag, but it was still so unfamiliar to her when she’s been with he kids and working all week.
“I know, baby. Lay back for me,” he commands politely. She does as her husband says and laid against the cold counter top, pussy on display. Her wet folds are aching with pleasure as is the rest of her body.
“Shit,” Harry jerked himself as he began to kneel. He didn’t want to take too much of her layers off in case a child was to come down the stairs but that’s why they kept quiet- so they wouldn’t wake them and so they could hear their little noises.
Harry began to kneel in front of her cunt that laid up on the counter top, head between her thighs. Y/n couldn’t see anything but the upside down living room that was set in front of her as her head was back and she awaited Harry’s affection. What she didn’t expect was for Harry to hungrily, rummage through her folds with his tongue, forcefully. Licking a wet stripe between her folds, tasting every bit of her pink pussy.
She mewls out, whining as his tongue plungers inside her wet hole. Letting out an exaggerated sob, Y/n wraps her legs around her husbands back as he kitty licked her cunt, his lips brushing past her sensitive parts. Fuckfuckfuck, she swarms on the counter, having Harry hold her thighs down as he pulls his tongue out and pressed it against her clit. Harry had his hand wrapped around his cock, moving it in a slow up and down motion. Jerking himself slowly, moaning hungrily against her sweet pussy, sending vibrations all throughout her body. Using his fingers to pull back the hood of her clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking feverishly. She cries lowly, gripping onto the tight curls that her husband determinedly grew. He growled and shook his head as the grip on his hair turned him on more and more.
He tugged on his cock, squeezing as the precum dripped down his palm. His other hand, was rubbing Y/n’s inner thigh, slowly crawling up to her clit. Pressing his thumb against her sensitive bud, his tongue dived inside her, curling up like his fingers previously did. Y/n’s cries grew louder, her body oversensitive after her first orgasm and now she’s riding his tongue, on to her second orgasm.
“Fuck. I need to be inside you right now,” He groaned as he stood up quickly. The lost of his tongue made Y/n gasp and cry out. But Harry doesn’t let her pussy go long without attention. He continues to rub her clit forcefully, before teasingly, slaps his heavy cock against her cunt, making her cry. As much as he wanted to be inside her, so so badly, her cries were fucking beautiful.
The tip of his cock pressed against her clit as it slipped down with her soapy mound. “Please, H, please.” Her quiet pleads deceive him as he finally slips his tip in, large soft hands lay on her hips as he tilts in. “Holy shit,” He curses under his breath.
His nails immediately stick inside her hips. Harry rolls his hips meeting with hers, their skin meeting and slapping. Their rhythm is slow at first. Enjoying the intimacy of the moment. His balls slap against the bottom of her folds as he fucks into her passionately.
“Oh my god,” She moans. She’s unable to keep her moans in as much as she’s like as Harry’s tipping inside her.
“Pleasepleaseplease, fuck!”
“Shh, shh. Baby come,” He whispered, pausing his thrust and tugging on her wrist. Pulling a tad, motioning for her to lift her upper body and meet him halfway. She does as he wants and swings herself up, unable to keep steady with the long heavy cock that’s stomach deep inside her. Just moving made her moan.
Harry held her lower back with his left hand, moving closer to her pressing his lips against hers. Kissing her softly, Harry rolled his hips back and forward, his cock hitting her g-spot perfectly now that she was angled up on the counter. “Argnnn, ple—” Y/n’s cries are covered by Harry’s enticing kiss, keeping her steady as they moved their hips rhythmically. His right hand moved on top of her clit, using his wide thumb to rub gently.
She whined against his lips, muffled moans, all of it satisfying him. “Jus’ like that baby. Stay quiet,” He muttered, keeping her lips on his. She would tremble in his arms whenever he hit that spot and he would groan whenever she’d tighten around him. Rocking in and out of her, the kitchen echoed with the soft sounds of their naked skin meeting.
Fuck, Harry was being nasty with it. One thing you loved about Harry was that he was great at multitasking. He licked inside her mouth, tongue finding hers as she submissively let him play inside her mouth. Their salivas mixing as Harry fucked into her cunt, their orgasms coming closer and closer. Harry’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his cock enjoyed her soaked cunt hugging it tight, almost suffocating it.
She could feel him so deep inside her. In her guts, just about it.
A breathless Harry pulled away from the heated kiss and said, “Fuck, I’m so close.” His thigh muscles tightening and growing sore as did Y/n’s whole body. Her body began to feel numb as her eyes roll back again in ecstasy. “So so good, H. Baby fuck, I can’t. I’m cumming,” She warned him breathlessly.
She couldn’t feel her legs. “Me too, me too. Come on baby” His breath shuddered and cracked as his cock twitches inside her cunt, spurting his cum inside her. He moans into her ear lowly as she unravels as well, her moans are high pitched, harmonizing with him. It was hot, sweaty. Curses left their mouths as their breaths are lost in the air and the search for oxygen begins. “Holy fucking shit,” He muttered. His cock warms her for just a little bit more until he slips out making her feel immediately empty. She whines as her stretched hole leaks with cum of her own and her husbands.
“Did we really just have sex on the kitchen counter?” She exhales, shaking her head.
“Yes we did angel. How about I deep clean this counter while you get us a hot bath, hmm?”
She didn’t know how she managed to walk up the stairs and into the bathroom but she did. That night resulted in late night back rubs in a warm bath and another toe curling orgasm to end the night off right.
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For the prompt: malec adjusting after qoaad when Alec is the consul
“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Magnus says softly, gently carding his fingers through Alec’s hair. He’s currently wrapped up under a plethora of blankets.
“It’s not.”
“Are you planning to come out of the blankets ever again?” Magnus says, amusement laced with his voice.
“No. It’s my temple of shame. I’m going to stay here now. You can go find yourself another husband.”
He can feel the vibrations from Magnus’s laughter through the blankets and pouts. There’s some shuffling then, few blankets removed from top of him as Magnus makes space for himself next to him.
Alec can feel the warmth on his face already from the warlock’s breath.
Magnus touches his face and he leans into the touch.
“Hi.”
He opens his eyes, to meet Magnus’s golden-green ones.
For a second, Alec forgets everything else and focuses on how pretty his eyes are.
Magnus taps his forehead twice to bring him out of his stupor and he groans in response. He shifts closer to Magnus and hides his face against his chest.
“I can’t hear you, love,” Magnus replies as Alec mumbles something against his chest.
“I’m a bad father,” he pulls back slightly, a huge pout on his face.
Magnus cups his face with both his hands and kisses his mouth softly. “You are not.”
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
“Your children believe so,” he retorts.
“My children?” Magnus raises an eyebrow in amusement.
“Yes. They hate me now so they’re your kids. You can keep their full custody.”
Magnus shakes his head fondly, gently caressing his face. “You are so dramatic. And so are those two demons.”
“Don’t talk shit about my kids,” Alec warns.
A low chuckle erupts Magnus’s mouth. “Idiot.”
Magnus drags his fingers across Alec’s back, before putting them inside his shirt and traces random patterns.
Alec’s quite okay spending an eternity here, not that he will ever have an eternity with Magnus but never mind—that’s a problem for another day.
“Do you think so too?” He asks, knowing Magnus’s answer but still needing to hear it.
“Think what?”
He sighs before removing the seven blankets as he sits up. Alec runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, leaning his head against the back of the wall. Magnus comes out from under within a few seconds.
He doesn’t push Alec at all. Gives him all the time in the world to voice his thoughts.
“Do you think I’m a bad husband too?” He asks, even if a little petulantly.
But it’s Magnus and if Alec can act petulant infront of anyone just because he wants to, it’s Magnus.
Magnus bops his nose. “I don’t think so. You are my favorite husband.”
It makes him smile.
“I am your only husband.”
“Hmm.”
Alec huffs. “How would you even know though? 400 or 800 or 1500 years, whatever age you’re choosing to be today and you’ve been married once. Your experience is of 4 months. The bar is in hell for you, Magnus.”
Magnus snorts, inches closer to him, crossing his legs, half lying on top of Alec.
“I think I have seen enough marriages in the world to know that you,” Magnus pokes his finger across Alec’s chest, “are quite nailing it.”
The thing about Magnus is that, when he speaks, when he tells you something, it doesn’t matter who you are or what you are—you believe him.
Right now, Alec doesn’t want to believe him.
He scoffs, irritation seeping his voice as he crosses the bed and stands up, throwing his hands in the air. “Really? Because everything in the past few months suggest otherwise. That I’m failing colossally.”
The amusement disappears from Magnus’s face, replaced with concern now. “Alexander, you’re not failing at anything.”
“You wouldn’t feel that way if Max and Rafe had said all of that about you.”
“They’re kids, love.”
“I quite remember the trauma my parents left me with as a child.”
Alec remembers all of that as clear as a day. Even if amends have been made. Even if Alec’s dad isn’t here anymore and he tries to not hold grudges. But there are things Alec can’t quite forget. Even if he’s forgiven his parents for them.
Absence is one of those.
He never wants his kids to feel that.
Magnus stands up from the bed and stands in front of him. “You’re spiraling.”
“I should.”
“All of this is new for all of us. It’s okay if you are not perfect at this,” Magnus assures him.
“They think I don’t have time for them.”
It had been a small thing.
No matter how busy Alec and Magnus are, weekends are for his family. Especially Saturday nights and Sunday mornings.
They had plans to take the boys to the Miami Seaquarium since Rafe had recently become obsessed with dolphins and wanted to see them. The plans been set for weeks now.
But something had come up at the last minute, another crisis that he’d need to deal with. He had to tell the boys that he couldn’t make it and they had not taken it lightly.
Max and Rafe don’t usually complain a lot when one of them has to leave due to their work. They can usually be bribed with food, toys and a hundred kisses and hugs.
And yet, they’d been pissed at Alec—told him that he doesn’t have time for them these days. Didn’t even say goodbye to him when Magnus took them through the portal, an apologetic smile on his face.
That had kind of hurt. Then as Magnus would like to call it—he had spiralled.
“They were disappointed today but they won’t hold this one thing against you,” Magnus says tenderly.
“I know they are,” he replies. “And you can be too.”
“I’m not disappointed, darling.”
It’s difficult when you spend so many years of your life having every single action of yours being measured in terms of its success and failures—the disappointment it can lead to for other people.
It’s worse when you realise that it’s not how it’s supposed to be.
When you are met with nothing but understanding and gentleness at your shortcomings.
Sometimes, Alec’s still not used to it.
“Why are you being so nice about it?” He says, not wanting to start a fight but needing it anyways.
“You don’t want me to be nice to you?” Magnus asks. “Because I like being nice to you. It’s not a hardship.”
There’s nothing but unconditional love on Magnus’s face.
It’s jarring some days that all of that is for him.
He drops the defensive stance and relaxes. “I don’t want to fight.”
“I know.”
“I’ve had a horrible day,” he admits. “And, I need you.”
It’s not just what the kids said. But the past few months have been exhausting and as much change Alec can bring, it’s still a hard battle every single day. It’s been tiring to no end.
��I’m here, Alexander,” Magnus exhales. He places his hand on Alec’s cheek, other tugging him closer by the waist.
“We never went on our honeymoon because I was so busy with work.”
“But, you did let me kidnap you for a few days for a short honeymoon. Remember?” The words bring an instant smile to his face. Magnus had colluded with his siblings to kidnap Alec for a few days.
“That was nice. We had fun,” he replies.
Magnus tilts his head, a small smirk on his face. “We had more than just fun.”
Alec chuckles breathlessly.
“And have you forgotten the part where you changed the law just to get married to me?”
“Meh.”
“Max and Rafe hate me,” he whines again.
“They don’t hate you. They’re just mad. You tell them a bedtime story and a cup of ice cream and they would be all yours,” Magnus assures him.
“That seems manipulative.”
“Well. They are quite easily bought.”
“They are,” he snorts.
“Are we feeling better now?” Magnus leans their foreheads together, their bodies flushed against each other.
It doesn’t quite feel real to him sometimes that Magnus uses ‘we’ not just as a phrase but, because it does affect him as well when Alec is feeling sad.
“Yeah.”
“One more thing.”
He pulls back, raising an eyebrow.
“You could not fail at being an amazing husband if you tried. You are everything I could never dream for myself, Alexander,” Magnus breathes against his mouth.
“I’m your favorite husband?” He says with a grin.
“Out of the ones you know of, you absolutely are,” Magnus grins back.
He throws his head back in laughter. “What happened to being nice to me?”
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Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Leads Sister-in-Law!
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 9 10
Chapter 8
‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader
Arranged marriage AU
Warnings: panic attack, vomit, self-harm (biting thumb hard enough until it bleeds), slight blood, mention/allusions to murder, very slight suicide ideation, one (1) suggestive line, implied child abuse, Maria being lowkey creepy (again), uncertainty about loving future kids, please tell me if I missed any.
NOTE: while I am happy that people enjoy this story, please stop blowing up my inbox about when the next chapter(s) will come out. Or telling me I should hurry up. Thank you.
NOTE #2: there isn't going to be any romance involving Roxana or any of the other characters and the reader.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS/TOXIC ACTIONS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.
MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/ BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACTION WITH NOR REBLOG FANDOM STUFF DNI (MAYBE ANIMAL BLOGS ARE OKAY BECAUSE THEY’RE CUTE). PLEASE DO NO NOT SPAM LIKE MY POSTS.
= = =
Roxana’s heels clack against the tiled hallway as she glides through, making way to her room. Blond waves gently bouncing with each step, the girl can’t hold back the scowl that tears at her lips. Brows furrowed, her thoughts were full of the recent events - the dinner.
She didn’t mean to intrude. As a matter of fact, while curious, she had no intention of doing more than taking a quick glance - to see if what Jeremy said was true, that Dion Agriche was indeed having dinner with his poor, pitiful bride.
Jeremy got there before her.
Hiding within the shadows, the boy was glaring daggers into the second eldest son. So engrossed with the scene presented to him, Jeremy didn’t notice Roxana as she got closer and closer. No, the brash boy had announced himself before she could even pat his shoulder. Like a wild boar, he interrupted your dinner, uncaring for how it made him look. Not that he ever did.
And perhaps out of pity on your behalf, or sick curiosity to see how everything pans out, she showed herself as well.
An hour prior to the incident Roxana and Jeremy talked about you, the newest family member. She wasn’t the one who brought you up, but rather Jeremy. Her younger half-brother had asked her what she thought about the situation. It was the first time he asked.
‘Well… It is strange. I thought that father would have waited longer before finding Dion a wife, much less holding the wedding.’
‘Yeah,’ Jeremy agrees, a borderline sneer on his face, ‘but it’s stupid. She won’t last long.’
‘Shorter than a month?’
‘No, longer. But I’m not sure how much longer. Still, to be married to that bastard… She's fucked. Pretty sure she’s begging God to kill her already, or to keep him away and indifferent.’
The blond beauty stared at her brother in question. ‘This isn’t like you, Jeremy. Did you meet her before or is it because Dion is the one involved?’
He doesn’t answer immediately, grumbling out words she didn’t catch. ‘Watch, she’s going to puke in disgust soon.’ Blue eyes narrowing in annoyance, Roxana only becomes more confused. What’s with this sudden interest with a sacrificial bride?
‘Jeremy,’ she says, gingerly patting his head, ‘This is the first time you’ve shown interest in anyone. Why is that?’ Asking him directly, she hopes that she’ll easily draw answers from him. But, for once, he doesn’t budge. It’s concerning.
‘Xana, I heard they’re going to have dinner together later today. Do you think that guy will show up?’ Ignoring her question, he asks his own. A frown tugs at her coral lips. But seeing how aggravated he is, she decides to humor him. Just this once.
‘I’m not sure. If it was on father’s orders, then yes, of course. His word is law.’
‘What makes you so sure he’ll listen to all?’
She blinks at him, taken aback. It wasn’t often she gets rendered speechless, especially by her own younger brother. But his response also amuses her - hearing his resentment towards the twenty-year-old was always amusing..
‘Xana, he’s crazy. It’s only going to get worse.’
Before Roxana could respond, she got called away to Lant’s office, the butler bowing nervously after he brought the news.
Returning to the present, the blond lets out a deep sigh, a headache forming the longer she thinks about it. This wasn’t how the story went. There wasn’t a grand wedding for any of the Agriche family members - the closest thing was when Jeremy kidnapped Sylvia, and even then, that couldn’t be considered romantic.
Nothing in the story was romantic.
…not like her brother’s marriage to you was either.
Nothing made sense and it’s bothersome. Concerning even, for the moment you entered this play, she became unsure of when or if Cassis will show up - what if nothing follows the storyline at all, no matter how small? She knows he exists, she saw him at the wedding. Shining silver hair that reminds her of the moon and golden eyes that were filled to the brim with caution towards her family and the wedding, the male lead of this story exists.
But you didn’t.
Maybe in the original work, you did, as a nameless background character. Faith unknown and unimportant, you somehow stumbled across the stage, entangled in strings that now control your every move. It worries her - you worry her. Roxana can’t tell if you’re friend or foe, if you’ll survive and stay sane, if you’ll die soon, if she should consider taking you under her wing, seeing how you were nothing more than a victim.
But she doesn’t have that luxury. Ensuring her own survival was hard enough - how could she take care of a second person? Why should she bother herself with you?
You don’t serve any other purpose than being arm candy, a woman seen as nothing more than an incubator by your father-in-law. She doubts Dion cares for you; during the planning period he didn’t act out of character. He acted the same around her, still the annoying son of a bitch he’s always been.
…but, a few days before the wedding he kept his distance. Unconcerned with her presence, he made a few last minute purchases. Away from the prying eyes of Lant, Dion also added a secret guest - the doctor known as Ash Katopodis.
She heard a rumor that he also sent the redhead to you instead of the doctor Lant had appointed. The fifteen-year-old had found it strange once word reached her ears, brushing it to the side after concluding it was gossip for gossip sake. While it was bold of the servants to say such things, Roxana saw no point in punishing them for their senseless rumors - it had nothing to do with her. If they wanted to play with their lives with risky talk, then that was on them.
Upon reaching her room, she stops short of opening the door, manicured nails tapping against the door handle. She didn’t mean to intrude on your alone time with the brute. Yet she did and the sight of Dion in such a domestic setting made her sick.
Disgust threatening to tip over the scale, it’s hard for her not to sneer at the mere memory of it. Domesticity does not suit Dion. He does not deserve it. Playing house with an unwilling girl, dressed in pure white as the veil hid her anxiety and fright laid within her eyes and painted on her lips. Scared and left hopeless as her family watched as she kissed the monster, powerless.
The holy church in which the wedding was held became corrupted when the second Lant Agriche picked it out, Maria fussing over the details. Who sits where, ‘gently’ probing your mother into agreeing with the dress the third wife had picked, your makeup and hairstyle, the fucking lingerie until Sierra pointed out how weird it was for the mother-in-law to pick out such an erotic and intimate thing for the girl who was to be her daughter-in-law.
During the ceremony, Jeremy had kept mumbling to himself, clearly done with the whole ordeal. Obviously, Roxana was as well, but kept a pretty smile on, greeting you after the vows were said and said her goodbyes as you were dragged away to the bridal chamber. Only to find the morning after by Hana that you didn’t go there, instead led into the lion’s den that is Dion’s room.
How… odd.
No… what was odder was that you didn’t have separate rooms. Emily had told her as such out of the blue, preparing her breakfast. She questioned it then, and it’s only weirder, more worrisome the longer she thinks about it.
She shakes the memories away. It wasn’t her life. She had enough trouble on her plate already - she couldn’t possibly add you to the list of her neverending responsibilities she’s forced to juggle. She could pity you, but never love you. Touch you but never hold you. Talk to you but never make a genuine connection as sisters should.
She should stop with this foolish nonsense.
Turning the handle, she glides right in, letting the door shut behind her. Emily had retired for the night, and the blond also ordered Hana to do the same. After all, Lant had given Dion another mission, and the favorite son had to prepare to leave in the morning, too busy to bother you.
… why am I so focused on her…?
The moonlight lights up her room through the glass doors that lead to the terrace. With a huff, she sits in her vanity, and starts to remove her makeup with removal cream. It’s greasy as her dainty fingers spread it across her face, each action copied by the mirror. It’s quiet.
Her thoughts refuse to shut up, however.
‘What’s going on with Lant…? Choosing a daughter-in-law from a nearly unheard of family? Do they have something he wants and only used this marriage as a means to get closer? Most likely, but why?’
A frown tugs at her lips, face completely bare after she pats it down with a face towel. Ruby eyes stare into the reflection before her, and Roxana only sees frustration and confusion. She can’t rely on her memories of the story anymore.
She won’t be sure until the faithful day when her father kidnaps Cassis Pedelian, the Blue Heir. And even then, how could she be sure that it would be the same Cassis Pedelain that was mentioned in the novel? The same goes for his sister, Sylvia.
“...things are getting complicated.” Standing, her feet take her to the bed and she lays on it, back pressed against the mattress. The crystal chandelier sparkles in the moonlight. Ruby optics disappear behind her eyelids, blond lashes casting shadows on skin. The night is still young.
A small smile of amusement forms on her lips when she remembers your earlier conversation. You had called her an interesting person - far from what others say. They called her lovely, a Goddess of beauty - and you?
You called her interesting.
Still, you couldn’t hide the admiration for her in your eyes. You weren’t a stumbling fool and understood what her look meant when Jeremy went too far. But the most fascinating thing?
You listened to mental caution and drew a line, uncomfortable with her, with them, the gears turning in your head on what to do next. You even separated yourself from her without hesitation once the moment presented itself.
Regardless, you admired her in spite of your clear discomfort.
“...I must be tired.”
You called her an interesting person. In return, she’ll call you a fool.
- - -
His side of the bed was cold, patting it as your bleary eyes and murky mind clear up. Still dressed in the half undone dress and corset, you ignore how uncomfortable it is. No, right now, what you are focused on is the way your beating heart is thrashing against your rib cage, how cold your body has become, beads of sweat building and rolling down your temples, on the verge of gasping for air. Did you just fuck yourself over?
You don’t know what time it was - sun high in the bright, blue sky, birds singing their lovely tunes. The occasional footsteps passing by, the far off voices as the servants go about their business. None of them knock on the door. None come to ‘wake’ you up.
Or, if they had, it must have been a good while ago. Were you so deep asleep that they gave up?
“...He’s going to kill me, isn’t he… hah…” a humorless laugh passes through your chest, shoulders slumping as nothing but regret fills your head and chest. Are you going to be killed today? Or maybe tortured? Thrown out like disgusting leftovers?
You don’t want to die. Ah, but what could you possibly do? Get on your hands and knees like a dog and beg for forgiveness? …no. You’re already pathetic enough, you don’t want to lower yourself even more. Fuck.
“...Ah, fuck, what should I do?” Putting your thumb sideways in your mouth, your teeth clamp down on the poor digit. The taste of iron explodes in your mouth, teeth marks left behind on the now wounded and bleeding flesh.
A throbbing headache decides to join, adding physical pain to the list of your suffering. You bite down on your thumb harder. It feels like it might just snap in two but your mind is too fried to realize this. The only thing you can think about is last night.
Your husband was gone. Where did he go? Maybe he decided to leave you, seeing you as a broken toy he doesn’t want anymore. Does that mean he’ll give the least back to Lant? Is that why he isn’t here? To discuss how to dispose of you?
The thought makes your stomach churn, saliva glands overfilling as bile starts to raise. You were given to them as a pet - as some twisted sacrifice, and for what? Did this family want nothing else but a new ‘toy,’ to see how long a normal person would last within these walls? What then?
If they decide to kill you, or if you kill yourself out of desperation, what would they tell your parents? No, they wouldn’t tell them anything to begin with.
And your family wouldn’t be able to ask.
“Urk…” dry heaving, slapping your hand over your mouth, panicked tears forming. Your entire body shakes, blood staining the bed as your injured hand grasps at the sheets. “URK!” Without a thought you rush out of bed, slamming yourself down on your knees as you reach the trash can. All of your stomach continents come up, the foul taste of vomit coming forth.
Hot tears run down your cheeks as you heave over the trash, blurring your vision. You’re breathing too heavily. You look at the door a few feet away from you. If anyone was right outside it, they would have heard you.
“...” you wait for a knock or for someone to burst through the doors with bated breath, your eyes shaking in their sockets, knees throbbing after the harsh impact. No-one comes. It is only you - alone in this room, a sinner who is paying the price. Must you go through this for a sin you’ve forgotten until now?
The answer is yes.
The answer is yes as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. The answer is yes as you force yourself to stand, knees painfully throbbing as the flesh bruises. The answer is yes as your thumb still bleeds, teeth marks engraved into the skin. The answer is yes as your heart refuses to calm down, chest hurting.
The answer is yes as you walk over to the vanity, the reflection of a face that doesn’t look like your own.
You are a mess.
The tears don’t stop flowing as the urge to vomit returns. Crystalline droplets catch on your lashes, ugly sobs and hiccups breaking out, your shoulders shaking as you collapse onto the leather stool seat. A sinner always pays the price.
You bury your face into your hands, entire body jerking with each sob, each hiccup as anxiety for the future and present overtakes everything. This isn’t like you. But you were never strong enough to survive in an environment like this. You were pathetic.
Seconds turn into minutes and maybe even into hours. Time is a concept that you don’t bother yourself with by the time you finally calm down, red puffy eyes staring into the mirror as the tear streaks dry on your cheeks. Some snot peeks out from your nostril, hair a mess, clothes crumbled and sliding down, showing more of your cleavage. Such an unsightly sight.
Grabbing a face towel on the vanity desk, you wipe off the tears and snot.
“...Okay. Let’s… get cleaned up.” Your limbs feel heavy, dragging your feet towards the closet before finally, finally striping out of your clothes from yesterday. The articles of clothing pools at your feet.
How much longer can I last here?
Will there ever be a peaceful divorce? Can I divorce him? Would I be able to?
If the story events do take place and Roxana takes over the Agriche family… by then… would I have children…?
BAM!
Your poor knees-! At the thought of having children - his children - your body just gives up again, as always. That’s the only thing you’re capable of, as experience has shown.
“...children… right, children… I have to give that man kids… kids that will go through the same thing he went through…” Will you be able to love them, if they come into existence? You have to, they would be yours.
Or would you end up just like Jeremy’s mother? Horrified at the sight of her own child, refusing to spend time with them. Seeing them as an irredeemable monster that you would do anything and everything to avoid?
Chomp.
Your thumb once again becomes a victim to your teeth, the imprint becoming deeper and drawing more blood. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts- but as the thought of starting a family with Dion Agriche deepens, the more you need to find something sturdy. Your thumb is enough to keep you grounded, yes, it is, and no, you’re not planning an early funeral, visualizing the area you want to hold it, or the dress your cold corpse would wear, or your family’s crying faces -
No, stop it. This isn’t - this isn’t… this isn’t what I want to be.
Licking the flesh wound, accepting the taste and smell of iron, you are not met with clarity nor bravery; just, temporary acceptance. This is your life. This was what the Gods had planned for you. This is what you have become - a wife to the future Black Agriche Heir.
His first wife.
Despite the blood and saliva, your mouth feels dry. Nausea builds back up, gagging and breath becoming short. It’s becoming hard to breathe.
Your lungs are being squeezed, throat constricted with an invisible ball gag - vision blurred with what? What’s this hot liquid running down your cheeks? Are you crying ? Again?
Something is choking you. Your head is starting to feel fuzzy, a pounding in your chest you can’t get. Everything is warped, shapes turning into mush, black merging with white, a hammer bashing against your head. Only the sound of rushing blood and a running heart is heard. Only the thought of death remains.
“No…no, I - I - this-!” you curl into yourself, kneeling as your forehead touches the floor, hands interlocked around your head as your lower arms and elbows rest on the tiles. Sobbing violently, your mind crashes again. You were never strong.
Not then, not now.
- - -
“Young Master Dion has been sent off on an errand; the dinner with Master Lant has been postponed until tomorrow, at six o’clock.” Hana informs you as she sets out your breakfast: oatmeal and water. Just what your now very sensitive stomach and nerves need. Did she overhear your little mental breakdown not even an hour ago? Or was this the usual breakfast for the residents of the Agriche compound?
“I see.” You hoarsely reply, voice still recovering. This is a good thing - you don’t have to see the devil’s face for yet another day. Her news also answers your question; Dion is out on an errand and they weren’t planning to axe you. Yet. Hopefully never.
Still, the curiosity of your husband’s duties lingers. You shouldn’t involve yourself anymore than what you currently are. Curiosity always kills the cat. So, you bite your tongue, deciding against asking her what your oh so lovely husband’s chore is… but, if you are to play the role as a wife, his wife, should you ask him once he returns? Like how one would greet their spouse once they return from work.
Hello dear… ick, no. Hey, how was your day… no, next. Are you tired? Do you want a bath…?
Or maybe you should just ignore the subject all together. His business isn’t yours, so why bother?
Besides, what if he doesn’t like you ‘snooping’ in his business? But at the same time, he’s been acting so weird and unlike how he was portrayed in the story. So while that Dion would find your questions annoying or useless, this Dion may want you to ask about his day. Fuck, it’s all so confusing and irritating
“Hm. Hana, is there anything on today’s schedule?”
“No, not yet my Lady.”
Not yet. What does she mean by not yet? Does that mean she’s aware that someone will interrupt your tiny bit of peace at some point today? Her short dark brown hair slightly bounces as she shuffles her weight onto one leg. “However, my Lady, I could… tell them that you’re recovering from ‘last night.’”
Her suggestion makes your grip on the cup loose, dropping the glass onto your lap as water soaks it.
“My Lady! Are you alright?” In a panic, Hana grabs some of the napkins on the table and pats your lap to soak up some of the water after removing the now empty glass. “My apologies - I shouldn’t have brought up such a vulgar suggestion…” Her once collected face and behavior shatters at the drop of a hat, ‘concerned’ about your safety.
Or was it for hers?
“I-it’s fine… no worries,” a tight lipped smile that only makes her brows furrow more and treats you gentler. Like you were made of glass. Well, that wouldn’t be too far from the truth…
“No, really. I just need to change clothes…” Once she’s done with soaking most of the water up you stand and walk to the closet. Opening the doors you skim over the options. Hana’s footsteps stop right behind you. Why is it so hard to have personal space in this place…
Your gaze travels upwards and for the first time, do you notice the Agriche family's crest engraved into the wood. Bitterness explodes in your mouth. It seems that no matter where you are in this place, there will always be a physical reminder of where you are - of who you belong to. No matter, you tell yourself. Besides, this isn’t even your room -
It was your husband’s. And maybe after a month, if not less, into your marriage, you’ll be assigned your own. …why were you sharing a room with him to begin with? Probably to increase the chances of conceiving a child sooner rather than later.
“... does that even make sense?” you murmur in amusement. Lant wasn’t even dead yet. But, you think, maybe he wanted his son to have a child so he could start to shape them into this tainted and sadistic mold ahead of time before he kicks the bucket. To ensure that the child - your child - would follow in their father’s footsteps.
To see if they would carry the same air and expectations as your husband does.
How cruel.
“Hana, I’ll let you choose it; they’re all so… beautiful that I can’t choose.” In reality you’re getting a headache from looking at the family crest. Which just became yours.
“...yes, my Lady,” she follows your order without question, going through the options.
Not even a few minutes later she pulls one out.
It matches your husband’s eyes. A brilliant shade of scarlet, it practically glows. A sheer black neck piece that forms as a choker and covers your cleavage but leaves your shoulders bare. Black lace is on the hem, flowers engraved into the pattern. The body of the dress is a solid scarlet.
“It’s beautiful.” You compliment her choice of style hiding how the beautiful piece of clothing makes your fingers twitch and brings the urge to vomit forward. Oh, how horrible it is, to not even be able to enjoy such a sight.
How horrible it is, to be born into this world after a helpless first life only to repeat the cycle, but worse.
#twtptflob#yandere twtptflob#twtptflob x reader#dion agriche#dion agrece#yandere dion agriche#yandere dion agrece#dion agriche x reader#yandere dion agriche x reader#yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere dion agrece x reader#roxana
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How about a fic where male reader goes out with they're husband to a sanrio store
✦ SANRIO ~ ♡ !
PAIRING: M!OC/M!READER
SYNOPSIS: your rich husband lets you spend money on your favorite thing, Sanrio.
A/N: Oc name is Osoro Rio!
“Hun, why are we going to the mall at 10 in the morning..?” Osoro asked tiredly.
“They’re having a sale! All Sanrio being 30% off! I can’t miss out!” you said excitedly, dragging him too the mall.
“Hun… the store doesn’t open till 12…” Osoro said.
“Oh..” you said, stilling at the realization.
“Oh well, I can spend money on other things in the mall!” You said happily, dragging him once more much to his dismay.
“Ooh, they have boba! Let’s go get some!” You said excitedly seeing a boba stand, running towards it.
“Hun, calm down you’re dragging me like a ragdoll…” Osoro tried saying, but you ignored already ordering two, memorizing his order.
“Seriously, a clothing shop? Hun, you have like a thousand outfits at home..” Osoro said looking around.
“So? Thrifting is fun, and better clothes then those designer companies. Barely know anything about fashion.” You argued back and eventually grumbling.
Osoro turned his head, before being appalled at the sight. You had your shopping cart already was 1/3 full.
You’ve been here for three minutes.
“Hun, you don’t think you’re getting a bit too much..?” He asked, still appalled.
“Nope.”
“I’m paying for all of this aren’t I..?”
“Mhm!” You confirmed.
“You’re also carrying everything!”
“Oh come on, (N/N)!”
“H-hun, a-are ya d-d-done?” Osoro shakily asked eyeing your cart, which was FULL. Full as in all the clothes were spilling out.
You looked around, before nodding.
“Guess I am, let’s go check out.” you mumbled.
The total was $987.87.
When you went to checkout, it was 11:20. Now it’s 11:56.
“Hun.. it’s 11:56.” Osoro mumbled, barely being able to hold on all the bags.
“The sales gonna start soon!” You gasped in excitement running away, leaving Osoro in the dust.
“Hun- wait for me..!” Osoro yelled after you.
“I’m just gonna drop everything to the car and come back..” Osoro sighed as he walked towards the exit.
Walking into the store, he realized how big it was. He turned his head and saw a depressed cashier, that was on the verge of passing out.
“Dang he looks rough..” Osoro mumbled, before walking ahead into the sanriotopia.
“Hmm… Sanrio nails, bags, supplies, ooh rings!” Osoro exclaimed.
Osoro took one that he deemed would fit you. He turned his head to look for you before seeing the same employee being yelled at by a Karen.
“My daughter wants that bag with the green frog on it! Tell that man to give it back!”
“Ma’am, I can’t do that. He got it first, just because your daughter wants it doesn’t mean he has to give it up…” the worker spoke tiredly.
“He is an adult! Where’s your manager!? I’d like to speak to them, and young man, where’s your wife!? As you’re clearly married, with that ring on you!” She yelled, causing ruckus.
Osoro turned his head to see the young man being YOU..?
“Ma’am, get out or I’m calling security.” The worker said sternly.
“Where’s your manager!?”
“He’s up my ass, I’m the only one who showed at work today. And I’m not taking bullshit, get the fuck out.” He said tiredly before kicking that woman and her kid out. Literally.
“And this green frogs name is Kerropi, and I have a husband too, get it right!” you yelled out at her.
Osoro sighs before walking up behind his husband, and kneeling on one knee.
“(N/N), will you marry me?” Osoro spoke with puppy eyes with the Sanrio ring in his hands, surprising you who turned around just in time.
“Osoro… we’re already married.” You mumbled, reminding him as you showed him your ring finger.
“So? We can still marry again!” Osoro grumbled not moving from his position.
“Fine, only cause the ring is cute and that everyones looking at us. Now get up!” You ushered him off the floor.
“Are you done, hun?” He asked you, peering down at your cart.
“No, I heard there’s onesies we should get matching ones!” You said, dragging Osoro once again.
“I don’t know how I can be taller then you, yet you still manage to pull me with you..”
“I’m just built different, Oso.”
“You’re hello kitty, I’m dear Daniel.” You decided giving him the onesies.
“Why am I hello kitty..?” Osoro asked, he was a man! No way was he gonna be-
“Because you act like a bitch boy sometimes.” You replied, not skipping a beat.
osoro sulked in silence.
“Oso, I’m just joking!” You chimed, already feeling him sulking.
“Ooh, oso they have hello kitty picture frames!” You suddenly yelled in excitement and awe.
“Are you gonna hello kittyify our house..?” Osoro asked starring at the frames.
“Mhm… you can’t do shit about it either.” You answered.
Osoro chuckled before patting your head.
Once you guys were finally done, you guys checked out. The same cashier being there.
He had prominent eyebags and looked gloomy, I mean I don’t blame him, imagine being the only one working at a store as big as a food court?
He had black curly hair, and looked like he could blow a bullet through the next persons head.
“Your total is $104.25… will you be using cash or credit? We don’t take debit.” He asked bluntly.
“Credit.” Osoro replied giving him his card.
“Okay thank you, bye. Come back never please.” The worker said slumping on the desk, falling asleep as soon as his head touched it.
“Jeez, a hundred bucks on hello kitty stuff??” Osoro asked, holding your bags.
“Mhm, now hold still so I can flaunt you and my stuff too my friends!” You said pulling your phone out.
two fics in one day, eat up my children!!
TAGLIST:
@call-me-nev @furotage @peedyharkyonut @nickey-diano
#male reader#x male reader#oc x male reader#oc x reader#fluff#sub male reader#• ☆ miyuuuki works#• ★ miyuuuki sfw#bottom male reader#x bottom male reader#sfw little post#sfw
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third snippet, oh how many snippets can a girl make for a surprise kid fic. snippet #1 + snippet #2
tommy's thoughts on this whole shebang. I really like to mix in humor with angst, it's just one of those things.
“But you have to admit it’s crazy right?” Tommy gave him one of his looks “Don’t look at me like that please, I know I wasn’t a little angel back then-”
“You still aren’t though”
“Shut up” he bit a laugh, trying his hardest not to let Tommy turn this situation into something light “I mean it, yes I was reckless back then and sort of still am, but it’s totally different”
“I mean…”
“Don’t you dare Kinard, remember you’ve told me about the other guys before me” he crossed his arms.
Tommy raised his hands “Okay, okay… I do have to admit is crazy that she never got to tell you about him but… What are we going to do Evan?”
Buck’s expression softened when he heard the hitch in his fiancé’s voice and saw him hide his face. He wanted to slap himself for not thinking about how this was affecting him too, after all, he isn’t the only one who received life-changing news today.
He stepped closer to Tommy, enough to hold him by the shoulders and make him look at him in the eye “I’m sorry baby, I-I haven’t asked how you’re doing with all of this”
Tommy shook his head, giving him a reassuring look that Buck knew at this point was forced “I’m not… I mean, I don’t want to make any of this about me, seeing as I’m not the one who just got the biggest news of his life”
Buck’s grip tightened “You… Tommy, you’re not making this about you, I want to know how you're feeling about this”
Tommy took a deep breath “Sweetheart I… I’m honestly terrified. I thought… that if we ever decided to have kids we’d have time to plan it, God I wanted us to be able to decide it” his breathing was shaky, talking about his feelings so openly was always a struggle, even after months of therapy “And I know this makes me sound like a bad person but… I wanted the chance to make a kid with you, regardless if they were biologically mine or yours” he was tearing up at this point, and Evan knew that if he hugged him right now, it could get worse.
“I’m… I’m sorry”
“Don’t apologize, it's just… Jesus, that kid, he’s the cutest and I can’t help but feel angry a-and disappointed at you” Tommy bit his lip hard, he really didn’t want to say it, but he had learned to be more honest and he knew Evan needed the truth, however much it hurt. “I look at him and I feel bad, I feel like I want to break something. I wanted— I want, a baby with you, not for a 7 year old to show up at our doorstep because you weren’t careful before and because his mother died”
“Technically he’s 6 and a half” Buck interrupted, receiving one of the bitchiest looks Tommy’s ever given him “Okay, okay, I’m not talking… continue”
Tommy closed his eyes for a few seconds, pleading with himself to have patience, that he’ll marry this guy and he’ll have to just suck it up.
“Evan, I may be really angry at you and feel like I can’t even look at your stupid face without wanting to punch you, but” he slid his hands up to his shoulders, holding his partner’s hands “I won’t run, not this time, and don’t even think for a second that I will. I am helping you and him through this, even when it’s the hardest thing for me to do, because I love you… And I’ve already decided that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, regardless of anything” the break in Tommy’s voice was enough for Buck to close their distance and hug him tightly and warmly, rubbing circles on his back in an effort to comfort his future husband.
He knew they made the right choice 8 months ago, that they’re still making it today, and that they will continue to make it for as long as they live.
tag list!
@beanarie
#surprise kid fic#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#evan buckley#tommy kinard#911 fic#tommy i need to hug you so tight right now#he's doing the best he can tbh
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Chris Argent x reader - getting along
Hey i was wondering if you can do one of Chris Argent were he’s is married with Derek aunt Peter sister and she is pregnant. Tank’s and I love how you right - @valeradriana💜
Sitting in the table, you began flicking through some of the papers on the desk.
“Nope.”
Tossing them aside, you picked up the next set of papers, mumbling to yourself.
“Throwing my papers around isn’t a great pastime you know.”
Smiling, you set them down and held out your arms for your husband to come over and gently hug you.
“Hey sweetheart..” you whispered.
Resting your head on Chris’ chest, wrapping your arms around his waist to hold him in place.
“Where have you been?” You asked.
“Helping your nephew with some research.”
You hummed, nodding your head as you pulled away from him.
Reaching up, you placed your hands on the sides of his face, pulling him down for a gentle kiss before you pulled away.
Laughing a little, Chris smiled at you, sitting next to you on the desk as he took the papers from your hand.
“You know nobody is going to let you leave the town right?”
“I know, but I’m just so bored.” You grumbled.
“Well, you’re supposed to be in bed rest anyways.”
You rolled your eyes a little bit.
“I’m pregnant Chris, I don’t have a broken leg.”
He chuckled.
“I know darling, but it’s just for both yours and the baby’s sake, it’s only for another week anyways then you can get out again.”
“I want to go out now.”
Chris looked at you.
“Where?”
“I don’t know, how about seeing Derek and Peter?”
Chris smiled, nodding his head as he went to get your shoes and jacket for you.
He wasn’t one to tell you no to things, and if you wanted to go and see your family then he was going to take you there.
He helped you up the stairs to the loft, and opened the door for you.
“Derek hale!” You yelled.
He spun around, dropping the papers in his hands.
“I haven’t done anything!”
Laughing, you walked over to gently hug him.
“I know, it’s just fun to scare you.”
Derek hugged you back, clearing the teenage pack from his couch so you could sit down on it.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed rest?” Lydia asked.
“Yup, but I was bored so here I am. Also I want a word with my brother, where is he?”
“He’s here.” Peter said.
He walked over and you stood up to be in front of him, then you reached up so you could smack the back of his head.
“What the hell?!”
“You want to put these kids in danger?!” You yelled at him.
Your eyes flashed Red, and Peter shuffled back a little bit.
“Need I remind I am the alpha of my own pack and I will kick your little ass if you so much put a scratch in one of these teenagers I will bury you so far deep in this forest.”
You placed a hand on your stomach, and Peter walked over, easing you back into sitting down.
“I’m not doing anything, if anything I’m trying timo keep out of all this mess.”
“So it wasn’t your idea to send them into the lions den?”
Peter took a step away from you.
“Okay it was.”
You went to stand up.
“But for a good reason!”
You narrowed your eyes at your brother.
“The hunters know Derek, Chris and I, they don’t know about Scott or his little pack.”
You looked at him.
“We’ve got it all planned out really.” Scott said.
You raised your hand to him, looking at Peter and Derek.
“You’ve done some stupid ass things you two, but you can’t be throwing these kids in the middle of all of this.”
“Well, we’re already in the middle of it.”
“Stiles shush.”
He nodded at you.
“I’m expecting a baby, I don’t need to babysitting my own brother and nephew because they’re being morons.”
“Then don’t.” Peter snapped.
“Remember who pushed you down the stairs as a kid because I will gladly do it again Peter Hale. Figure out s new plan because if I find out you’ve endangered them again I swear to god you’ll have hell rained down on you.”
“Alright! Okay!” Peter huffed.
He glanced at Chris.
“You aren’t going to stop her?”
Chris shook his head.
“My wife is a free woman Peter.”
“Hey, you’re not off the hook either Chris Argent.”
He backed away towards the door.
“Run!” Derek yelled.
The three men quickly left the loft to escape your anger, and you were left Scott and his pack.
“Thank you (Y/N).” Lydia smiled.
“No problem, now, can someone please take me to get something to eat my husband ran away.”
“I’ll drive you, we’re actually just leaving anyway.” Stiles said.
You grinned a little and got up, you weren’t actually angry with Chris, but sometimes it was fun to watch him run off with the other two because you knew they would hide out together and talk.
It was helping them get along more than what they used to considering you were from a werewolf family and you were married to a hunter
#teen wolf#teen wolf x reader#teen wolf x you#teen wolf imagine#Chris argent#Chris argent x reader#Chris argent x you#Chris argent imagine
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end of the semester absolutely fucking shot my brain cells so uhhh have the opening bit for a pvparkciv crossover thingy i made for my au! this was 100% inspired by this post. i also used @/ashmellow78's version of parkour language (which you can translate using this).
just like the other thing i wrote for this concept, this is second person but it's not a reader insert! pov character is parkciv!evbo. short and easy explanation of the au is pkbo rose quartz-ed himself to make pevbo. this au of the au is just a what-if of pevbo being sent into the past.
i'll stop yapping now hope the masses enjoy o7
Usually when Crown calls for you, he doesn’t say your name. He doesn’t speak in general. You’ve been married so long words aren’t needed. He can just think or feel and you’ll come running.
So when he says “Evbo” in a voice that brook no argument, you immediately arrive at his side.
And you immediately see the problem.
There’s another you sitting on the block in front of you. He’s looking up at you both with wide eyes, curious and wary. There’s a sword strapped to his hip that’s hanging on the edge.
“Uh… hi?”
“Evbo,” Crown says again. You both look at him, but he only has eyes for you. Which would make you happy on a normal day. Clearly, today is not normal.
“Did you have an immaculate conception?”
“What? No! I think I would remember if I was pregnant.”
Crown looks at you funny, but ultimately drops the matter. Still, the thought’s been planted. The seed is sprouting.
Could you have made another you without knowing? It’s possible. Even after all these years, sometimes you do things without realizing it. The Bee Incident still gives several parkour citizens nightmares.
So you reach out. The other you feels familiar, overwhelming familiar. Like meeting someone you forgot existed. There’s a weird layer to his soul, shimmering like water reflecting the sun.
And right beneath it is
{}_ []___ /__/_ []___ L__ |_|_ * {}_ []_ |_|_ []____ {}__ //_/_ * {}_ L__[]_ /__/_ []_ * |_|_ []___ /__/_ []_ L__ * []__ |__|_ []____ ||_|_ []_
Oh. Oh. Maybe you were pregnant and didn’t realize.
In any case, that’s something to dwell on later. As it stands, there’s a stranger on the outskirts of your civilization that needs addressing. So you look at him, and you make sure to put on the air of comfort and safety.
“Are you okay?”
Your (copy’s? imposter’s?) soul reacts immediately. It reaches out, clamoring for… what, exactly? It’s so loud you can hardly make heads or tails of it.
The other you doesn’t seem aware of this, instead perking up at being addressed. “I’m okay,” he answers, and wow. He doesn’t look that much younger than you were when you first started on your parkour journey. Did you really sound that young?
Oh, you’re getting old.
“Some passersby told me they found you passed out,” Crown explains, once again addressing you. “When I got here he was awake. He didn’t recognize me, so I called you.”
“Aw, you were worried about little old me?”
“It’d be incredibly concerning if my god was dead, yes.”
Other you (damn this kid needs a name) gasps at that. “Wait, you’re a god?!” There are stars in his eyes. It’s weird seeing that expression on a face so similar.
“That’s so cool! What are you the god of? Wait, wait.” He cuts you off before you can even think to answer. Other you shakes his hands, looking around.
“Gotta focus on the important stuff, Evbo,” he mutters to himself. “So, um, where am I? And who are you?”
“You’re in Parkour Civilization,” you answer. You see something click in his brain, but it’s not because he recognizes the name. “You might’ve guessed it already, but I’m Evbo. Also the Parkour God.”
You place a hand on Crown’s shoulder, pulling him as close as you can be while standing on different blocks. “And this is my husband Crown.”
“You guys don’t have swords?”
Crown answers this time. “We have them, but they’re purely ornamental. Why?”
“Because they’re your life?” He almost pulls out his sword, hand stopping midway. “That’s how it works in PVP Civilization. Are your lives not tied to parkour?”
You share a look with Crown. Totally not a concerning line of questioning.
“Kind of, but that was a long time ago.” You reach out, offering other you a hand. He takes it, almost stumbling off the block as he stands.
It’s going to suck so bad if he can’t do one-block jumps. No maybe secret asexually produced child of yours is going to suck at parkour. You can almost hear Seawatt laughing at you from beyond the server.
“That’s weird. But I guess it makes sense. Not every place can be PVP Civilization. Pretty sure that’s the only place I’ve been, though, so who knows.”
“Evbo,” Crown starts. “Your name is Evbo, right?”
“Yep!”
“We should get you to a doctor. Regardless of why, you were passed out for who knows how long.”
Other you shrugs. “Like, an hour maybe? I’ve gotten good at counting time while I’m sleeping.” There’s a pause. “Besides, I can’t go to a doctor! I have to get back!”
“Hey, buddy.” Attention successfully redirected. “I’m you, right? Take it from me: you’re gonna feel a lot better if you go. And then we promise to help you find your way back.”
He thinks about it for a good seven seconds before brightening up. “Alright! Lead the way!”
#parkour civilization#parkciv#pvp civilization#pvpciv#evbo#emf#evbos master friend#parkciv fic#pvpciv fic#i should probably make a tag for my writing huh#esspherial writes#let's go with that
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TEAM DAMIRAE OR TEAM KONRAE?
Superman & Batman
Bruce Wayne: You're really asking us that question?
Clark Kent: I think it’d be nice to have Raven as a daughter in-law.
Bruce Wayne: You can't have her, Kent. She’s too cool. And she fits our aesthetic better.
Clark Kent: You’re Batman: you literally adopt everybody. You tried to adopt Barry once. And you already have Kory, you can't take Raven, too!
Bruce Wayne: She’s already hitting it off with our villains.
Clark Kent: Raven and Luthor could get along; they both meditate and share a genuine disgust towards people.
Bruce Wayne: I can already hear the future screams ringing out from that scenario.
Nightwing & Starfire
Dick Grayson: Yeah, Damian’s just a more decent human being around Rachel, so...you know.
Koriand'r: You know, if I married you, and Raven married Damian, we could both have a double wedding AND we’d be sister in-laws. *gasps* We could take one of those family photos on the beach together, where we’re all in the white shirts and denim and we’re jumping! Wouldn't that be so amazing?
Raven & Superboy
Rachel Roth: Um…
Conner Kent: You're really being put on the spot here.
Rachel Roth: I am.
Conner Kent: I can make a suggestion, if you like, milady.
Rachel Roth: Thanks...milord. *shakes head and bites back a smile*
Poison Ivy & Zatanna
Poison Ivy: Ugh, it's such a hard decision! Raven and Robin have so much in common—and if Raven started dating him, she could stay in Gotham more. But Superboy has a much sweeter personality.
Zatanna Zatara: I know! And they’re both so good-looking.
Poison Ivy: Oh yeah, they’re heart throbs.
Zatanna Zatara: If I were a teenage girl, I would probably be obsessed with them.
Poison Ivy: Creepy, but relatable. Who would you choose, then?
Zatanna Zatara: Oh boy. Um...I think I would go with Damian. He’s so dark and mysterious. And Raven told me that he lets her cut bagels with his samurai swords.
Poison Ivy: He's a keeper.
Zatanna Zatara: Yep. Plus Conner’s advanced hearing would make me feel so uncomfortable. What if he hears me crunching on potato chips a room over or something?
Poison Ivy: I don't think I could date someone who could hear everything.
Harley Quinn & John Constantine
John Constantine: Superboy. He'll be easier to kill if he breaks my kid’s heart.
Harley Quinn: Aww. Dad goals.
John Constantine: And he’s nice and all...also it would really piss off Clarky to have a closer relationship with me.
Harley Quinn: So, basically, Team Superboy for revenge and spite. I LOVE it!
Cyborg & Shazam
Billy Batson: Team Jacob :D
Victor Stone: Dude. No.
Beast Boy & Blue Beetle
Garfield Logan: You know, I actually used to have a HUGE crush on Raven.
Jaime Reyes: Seriously? Wow, it's hard to imagine the two of you together. Is this the hidden ship? It would be super weird if, after all of this, she ended up with you.
Garfield Logan: HAHAHAHAHAHA......yeah.
#dc#dc multiverse#teen titans#garfield logan#beast boy#jaime reyes#blue beetle#billy batson#shazam#victor stone#cyborg#harley quinn#john constantine#constantine#poison ivy#zatana#zatanna#zatanna zatara#damirae#konrae#damian wayne#rachel roth#raven roth#raven#damian x raven#robin#kon el#conner kent#batman#superman
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Any other Elvis and wife/girlfriend sagas in the works in the same vein as Elaine and Gigi?
Mm why yes, yes there are. Who knows if I’ll get to them but I’d love to share. I’m still chipping away at the Regency Au, I bet I’ll keep spitting things out for it at random. But then there’s working title: Honeysuckle. Which sort of came out of people requesting more in the tome of Honeymoon. I’ve nothing written for it yet except a plot pitch I shared with a couple dear friends, I’m going to include it below for anyone interested. Maybe y’all will have additional suggestions, I’d welcome them. Xoxo
Honeysuckle Plot 🎀
I once had a whole Governor’s Daughter plot but then the more I read about her (the real gal Ann) the more I thought it was sweet they just had a kissy friendship, both being well aware they were headed in opposite trajectories. They parted ways and remained in contact, we need more of those represented so I’m not going to meddle and make it steamy...
BUT THEN
I had a notion and I do need more scheming on it but -what about her little sister, ok?
See, the Governor's daughter -the little sister-, she’s adorable and very young and a buttercup when Elvis comes home in 1960. She has posters of him in her mansion room, squeezes his hand too tight when he goes through the endless greeting of shaking hands and is a giggly mess when she spies on him kissing Ann while Ann shows him the mansion. Altogether her girlish crush is cute as can be, because he’s sweet as pie to her and he looks like Prince Charming and he becomes friends with the family and laaa deee daaa…
Life goes on. A few years later he even comes to her sweet sixteenth when she writes him a detailed letter making a case and citing how he said (teased more like) that he would marry her just for her custard, the least he could do is come to her birthday party. And so he comes and again, it’s cute.
Now it’s not entirely unusual for him to stay with the Governor and his family when he’s recording in Nashville and one year Ann gets engaged and he comes to that party and perhaps there’s a bit of moment, and eying up of his little friend as she stands with her fruit punch and passes her bridal sister gifts- “lordy, buttercup, you’re fillin’ out nicely” he complaints in a bit of daze.
“Elvis, you know I’ve turned sixteen!” she’s a bit outraged he didn’t notice how grown she’s become, he watched her blow out that candles!
And yet, it remains all cute.
BUT THEN
one night he stays with them when she’s seventeen and she thinks nothing of it, letting him into her room along with a couple other of the old hooligan set, gardeners kids and the maid’s daughter and a few other younguns, because they’re gonna do what they’ve been doing since the first night he stayed with them once all the adults go to bed.
PILLOW FIGHTS!
except this one, oh it’s fun as can be but when 3:00 am strikes they all reckon they should probably go to sleep, so the kids sneak out her window and Elvis sneaks out her door to go to his room down the hall.
but alas!
somebody sees him, and my, my, ain’t that front page news the day after?!
And her daddy calls Elvis into his office furious, i mean, ‘what’s he thinking sneaking into his young daughters room in the middle of the night?’
I’m imagining Elvis trying to explain to her father and Governer’s all “yeah, sure, of course it was a pillow fight uhuh.” 🙄 “Mr Presley, you’ve already taken my hospitality for granted, don’t take me for a fool, too”
Governor had figured between that and the way Elvis had maintained good friendship and been a gentleman with the older sister. that the reports on him where exaggerated -but this!
I’m sorta imagining him calling Buttercup into his office too, partway through this, the Sweet Little Thing swears up and down it was just a pillow fight and even hikes up her skirt to show a bruise, assures her daddy it’s not so bad, she walloped Elvis real hard on his belly right back, “-won’t you show him, E?”
Which is… painfully innocent and also exposes Elvis as being a bit of uh…well…she’s comfy enough to hike her skirt up and demand to see his belly. What a mess.
But like, she’s from the debutante world, she’s seventeen, it’s prime time to be out and meeting boys and snagging s marriage and Elvis has gone and ruined it.
I think chiefly what I love about this possible Au is that it gives Elvis a chance to be impulsively chivalrous as he often was, — he offers to marry her.
And then it allows him to be regretful and lazy, which he also was, and postpone the thing indefinitely. Boarding school and model school and all sorts of engagements he visits her at, keeping up appearance and allowing himself the occasional slip of composure, she’s lovely after all. And likes him so very much. He just knows marrying would be the worst thing imaginable. It would, he’s not suited.
But it’s idiotic leaving a beautiful gem like that in the wild, she should be secure round his finger and chained to his side but he doesn’t see it, not when he’s so busy with his movies and such. Not until she’s in the papers again with a flock of fellas around her, not acting particularly engaged. It makes Elvis’ engaged blood boil. He visits her after that, be sure of it. He even hauls her to Paris and angrily demands a dress be chosen and tailored by the end of the week. By the wedding.
Well, anyway it’s all sorta leading up to what was in Honeymoon. Maybe not exactly the same universe but the whole concept and dynamic. Maybe he gets into diplomacy thanks to her father? I never have endings for my stories, only ever beginnings. Anyways. Innocence kink abounds here, lol. Except for the pillow fights, those are legit just fun.
#plots in progress#shopping for a fanfic#elvis fanfiction#elvis presley#elvis fanfic#elvis#elvis imagine#honeysuckle#interactions#elvis and me#elvis presley fic#elvis presley smut#elvis presley fan fic#elvis and priscilla#pricilla presley#dollette#coquette aesthetic
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You know what else I like???? I like watching people eat. I can watch a mukbang if I’m extremely hungry but need something to watch while stuffing my face (tho for mukbangs themselves I have to turn off the volume entirely because those sounds make me wanna nerf someone lol) or I could watch someone going through a convenience store, getting a whole meal, and eating it, but my fave??? Watching someone do one of those ‘challenge platters’. The ones where ‘you have ab hour to finish this whole platter and get the whole meal, or take longer and pay full’ sorta situations???
Yeah idk what it is about someone stuffing themselves sick but maybe it’s because I actually have a very small stomach and have to eat tiny meals so I don’t throw up, but also because as soon as I’m full, food doesn’t even TASTE good anymore and people in these videos seem to enjoy it the whole way through. I smell a food while full and I’m gagging even if it’s my fave.
Either way. So I get it. I don’t like exaggerated eating sounds, but I love watching someone eat a massive delicious meal.
Either way. This is gonna sound like it’s outta left field. But. AU where Qui-Gon has Once More had to leave his Padawan in the middle of nowhere, only for Obi to run out of money.
Of course, that’s when he passes by someone doing a food volg and talking about the one hour challenge to eat all this food and you get your meal free. You have to eat it all and you gotta do it in an hour.
Obviously, he stops right behind them, not realizing they’re live-streaming, and is all ‘omfg free meal if I eat it all in an hour??’ And the vlogger is all ‘omfg hungy baby Jedi’ and parks his ass next to them all ‘okay, let’s explain the rules’ and Obi is all ‘shit, I can’t afford 100 credits if I fail’ but the vlogger is all ‘baby Jedi, if you try this with me on livestream, I will likely make enough in this one stream to pay for our meals 100x over, lemme feed you’ and then they hear a ding of someone sending like 500 credits worth of blogging tokens all ‘feed him before I track you down and feed him for you’. See. Already paid for.
Anyways. That was the day that the galaxy at large learned that a smol Jedi padawan can eat a Bantha, purrs really nice and contented when they’re stuffed full, and also is a cuddly little worm who very much tried to be the bloggers lap warmer after a nice meal. He’s a baby.
Anyways I’ve decided the vlogger should be a Mandalorian OC and they adopt him and follow him and Qui-Gon on missions for the next 10 years (till Obi is knighted and has a kid of his own, then they follow him and Ani instead) and do a bunch of live-streaming challenges all over the galaxy of food challenge platters.
Also maybe make Obi a lil more plump???? As a treato 🥺🥺🥺????
Yes. That can also be allowed. Bant is his Mando parent’s bestie she’s never seen her bestie so healthy and happy before. Qui-Gon is trying his best but now he has someone to hold a blaster to his head when he’s not being a good master at the moment. Anakin is spoiled rotten and Obi’s Mando Buir gets married to Shmi probably and they travel the galaxy. Shmi isn’t a big eater but she likes her fancy lil delicate meals while riduur is eating a bantha’s share. It’s cute.
Is this entirely For Me? Probably. Am I considering making it because I love playing with holonet, social media in the galaxy, and Mandos adopting Obi? Ya.
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