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fortheloveofdeaddove · 1 year

Text

Making Room

Warnings: See Making Room master post for warnings.

Summary: Christmas Day Part 2

Chapter 17

Ciri felt like a whole week had passed since she’d woken up and gotten dressed in her special Christmas outfit that morning. She and Julian, red cheeked and breathless from playing with Toby, had finally come inside. Uncle Coen asked her brother to help him get the dog settled in the guest house. He hastily agreed, grinning wildly as he gave the rest of his family quick hugs, then disappeared out the front door with their uncle and the shaggy beast.

That left Ciri alone with her father, grandfather, and great uncle.

“This is a good opportunity for us to talk, Cirilla,” Papa Vesemir’s sonorous tone was in stark contrast to the jovial mood of the holiday thus far. Ciri looked at her dad with sudden apprehension.

“Come, my dear!” Uncle Regis interjected lightly. He offered her his arm, which she took since her dad merely nodded at her in encouragement, and let herself be led to the kitchen. “It’s time you learn the Rivia family hot chocolate recipe and then we can all talk by the fire. My brother makes it sound dire. I tell you, Cirilla, I am often the one they accuse of melodrama, but I can’t for the life of me tell you why.”

Behind her, Geralt and Vesemir’s footsteps were heavy on the hardwood floor, and she couldn’t ignore how ominous it sounded, despite the fact that Uncle Regis’ distraction was mostly working. She followed the older man’s instructions obediently as he puttered around the kitchen, and her daddy and Papa Ves settled in at the breakfast bar to talk about the stables and the New Years party. She focused on the hot chocolate while they droned on.

When they settled in front of the fireplace - Ciri snug on the carpet at her father’s feet with a warm mug in her hand and Papa Ves and Uncle Regis in the loveseat across from them - Papa Vesemir started again.

“I’ve been wanting to offer my congratulations on losing your virginity again Ciri, this time more formally. It’s a very special time in a child’s life, and one of the greatest accomplishments of my own life has been sharing that moment with my own children, and watching them grow up and share that moment with theirs. How was that special night for you? Have you been enjoying having sex with Geralt since?”

Above her, her father smirked as she coiled her arms around his leg tightly, probably not even conscious she was doing it. He carded his fingers through her hair and massaged the back of her neck in a soothing manner.

“Ehm…” she exhaled, almost too quiet to hear.

Long seconds passed as they patiently sat and sipped their cocoa, waiting for her to gather her words.

“This is good, Ciri. Nice job,” Geralt mentioned after his first few sips.

“A good thing, too,” Vesemir teased, “This was a final secret test you didn’t know about. If you had burnt the Rivia family hot chocolate, we would have had to have send you back to live with Moussack.”

Ciri snorted and rolled her eyes. “Good thing Uncle Lambert wasn’t the one teaching me then.”

They shared a laugh. Ciri seemed more at ease.

“Ugh, I don’t know why it’s so hard to talk about! Um… it made me… happy? I love daddy, he’s… He makes me feel good. I love when he touches me. Santa Catalina was amazing. I loved the yacht, and Wrigley House, and the beach... And… I really like having sex with daddy,” she rambled shyly.

Uncle Regis and Papa Vesemir smiled warmly and nodded.

“That’s wonderful to hear, Cirilla,” Uncle Regis declared. “Geralt is a very good father and he deserves a perfect little girl. We are so honored to have found such a princess to welcome to our family.”

Ciri smiled bashfully.

“I made a lot of missteps along the way,” Geralt muttered regretfully.

“Left a lot of doors open,” Ciri couldn’t help but snark.

“The only reason I don’t tickle you right now is I don’t want the trouble of cleaning hot chocolate out of the carpet,” Geralt warned playfully and Ciri smiled unrepentantly. Geralt continued, “We’ve made it this far because my daughter and son are incredibly patient, wonderful kids. I’m very proud of my family.”

Ciri squeezed his leg again, this time smiling up at him as she did.

“We’re proud of you all as well,” Vesemir said, his voice regaining his earlier gravity. “Your final initiation into our family should be explained to you so that you feel prepared. Your father and I wanted to take this opportunity to describe what we have planned for you this evening.”

“This evening?” Ciri whipped her head back to look at her father, who just petted her head and looked at her encouragingly.

“It’s time for you to be introduced to the rest of the family. I can’t keep you to myself forever. And there’s no better time than when we’re all together for Christmas dinner.”

The look of confusion on Ciri’s face was endearing. Geralt had to suppress a shiver of desire.

“I thought I’d already met everyone… Papa, who…?”

Her grandfather smiled indulgently at her. He and her Uncle Regis then shared a look and made space between the two of them on the love seat, beckoning her over.

“Come here, pup. I’ll explain.”

Ciri froze for a second.

“Don’t worry. Your daddy isn’t going anywhere. You’re safe with your Papa Ves, you know that, right?”

She viciously chided the rising panic in her gut, though the only indication of her thoughts was a small frown. She got on up on suddenly wobbly legs and Geralt took her mug for her.

“Of course, Papa Ves.”

She slid into the tight space between them and glanced again at Geralt for reassurance.

Tucked against her grandfather and sitting so close to her newly introduced, elderly, great-uncle for the first time, Ciri wanted to both relax and stay entirely still. Papa Vesemir brushed her hair behind her shoulder and rubbed a warm, comforting hand up and down her back.

“You’ve met almost everyone, though there will be some new faces at the New Year’s gala later this week. But that’s not what I meant sweetheart. You know I have one-on-one time with all my grandchildren, right, Cirilla? You’ve seen Deidre and I have sex during family time at least, and I’m sure the boys have talked.”

Ciri felt something heavy suddenly form in the pit of her stomach. She began to pick at her nails as she dropped her gaze to her lap. Yes, she understood that. She’d seen Papa Ves have sex with Deidre, and Aiden and Jules had told her plenty about their one-on-one time with their grandfather and uncles. She just… it was hard to picture herself … doing that. She had, but it always made her nervous. It wasn't like when she'd fantasized about Aiden in the beginning.

“Ciri?” Her daddy asked.

Ciri looked at her dad then back to her grandfather. She nodded. “Yes. I know.”

Vesemir smiled again. “Each of my children and grandchildren is precious and unique. My first time with each of them is special and different, but everyone has a special first time with Papa Ves. Your father and I have been considering this carefully, and we believe you’re more than ready. Did you know that having sex with me means more than just one-on-one time for the two of us, Ciri? Do you understand?”

Ciri’s heart was beating a mile a minute, but she couldn’t deny that her pussy was clenching suddenly and her nipples were getting hard under her shirt. Even so, she was still scared - after all, the only grown up she’d had sex with was her daddy. But she loved her Papa Vesemir. He made her feel good and safe like daddy, and she liked his body too, even though he was older. Their skin-to-skin naps were wonderful. She liked that her grandfather wanted to have sex with her, liked that he had been looking forward to it and treated her so special and nice. But she was still scared. It was one thing to have a crush on Papa Ves or her uncles because every man in this family was so handsome, but this…

“Not… really?”

“That’s okay. Thank you for being honest.”

He caressed her cheek tenderly and then dropped his hand to the crook of her neck, slipping his hand underneath her shirt, lingering at her collarbone and gently stroking with his thumb.

“If there’s one thing I can count on, it’s your maturity, Ciri. The boys will continue to be obnoxious little goblins for some time, and Deidre is still young, but your sense of maturity has impressed me from day one, and it’s one of the reasons I’ve been looking forward to having you in my bed so much, my little one.”

Geralt sighed quietly as he watched his father ply his pretty little daughter with compliments to boost her ego. She looked so deliciously tiny and pure sandwiched between the two old men who’d raised him, despite the things he himself had done to her already. He felt zero shame about the arousal coursing through him as he observed the exchange. She was hesitant, uncomfortable, he could see it. But she was ready. She would do anything they asked in order to be accepted.

“It means that, finally,” Vesemir continued, “in all the ways that matter to us, you are a fully fledged member of this family. Not just Geralt’s daughter. Once you and I have sex, then you will be ready to have sex with your uncles and brother and cousins - with supervision and permission, of course,” he added sternly. He tucked a finger under her chin to lift her head as she dropped it in shame. “We can’t have Aiden taking advantage of you again. And you still have so much to learn. That’s how it’s been for all the kids, Ciri. Your uncles and I can’t wait to show you how much we love you, and to teach you everything you need to know to feel good and make us feel good. Do you want that?”

Since she’d understood where this was all headed, she’d wanted it, in a way. She wanted to be in this family, so of course she had to want it! But every step towards achieving it had been scarier than the last. She didn’t quite understand why she needed to have sex with anyone besides her daddy and Jules, but they said it was how they showed each other real love, how this family did things, and she wanted to belong . Her brother and cousins said the grown ups were all really good at sex and it was fun and Ciri would like it, so this scary feeling was just like all the ones before. It was stupid and didn’t matter, and it was keeping her from something she was going to like in the end.

“Yes, I want that.”

“That makes us so happy, my dear,” Uncle Regis said. “Your mother would be so very proud of the young lady you’re growing into. Ah, forgive me, don’t let me get carried away with my emotions. Now, we’ve ordered you a special dress, and it’s tradition for everyone to be present for the first time with Vesemir…”

Ciri felt far away from her mind and body as the men in her new family discussed the plans for the evening.

___

“AH AH AH AH AH AH-,”

“That’s it boy, that’s it, fuck yeah work it cock slut-,”

“OH! Uncle Coen! More!”

“Fuck, Jules, say it again-,”

“MORE UNCLE COEN!” the boy sobbed.

Coen groaned and threw his head back against the sheets while his nephew, stripped down to his blue turtleneck and white socks, bounced enthusiastically on his cock. He dug his heels into the mattress and matched his nephew’s efforts. He’d never fucked a child so hard and had them like it so much. Julian was brilliant, and he couldn’t wait to get a hold of the other kids. He hoped they would be just as interested as Julian.

After several moments of this grueling-but-delicious pace, he was rewarded with Julian’s high-pitched wail as the boy’s cocklet finally twitched and he came untouched, squirting a charmingly pathetic amount over his shirt.

Half dressed like this, the boy was too tempting by far. His tear-streaked blue eyes were irresistible, and Coen found a different sort of pleasure getting lost in them than the usual sort he got from observing the tears and horror of his typical victims. Fucking Julian that night with Geralt at his back had been the first time Coen had ever taken a willing child.

Well . Willing was a very subjective term. Yet, in all the ways that mattered, his nephew was happy to spread his legs and welcome his uncle into his body, giving and receiving pleasure for both their benefit. It was incredible and different , and he’d immediately understood then why Geralt and his brothers had given up the full-time prowl.

They were predators at heart, but even some monsters kept a pack at home. For too long Coen had been all beast, and very little pack. Because of that, he’d missed out on things like this.

Julian showed no signs of tiring on his perch despite his orgasm - a fact that did and did not surprise his uncle. Coen’s only experiences had been with unwilling adolescents in either actively resisting or drugged states. Comparatively, the fight left them rather quickly. His own adrenalin and lust and rage usually took over the encounter at a certain point while his captive usually submitted, or they were bound and forced to take his cock (or whatever abuse he wanted to dish out that night). So part of him instinctively felt a small body under his command and expected a certain pattern, but his higher brain understood that this was his brother’s son, who he’d seen take a pounding from all three of his brothers and their father in one night.

Eventually Coen pinned him to the bed belly down and sucked a dark hickey into his neck as the boy squealed, and he pumped his cute little ass full of seed.

From his kennel in the corner, Toby the Great Pyrenees watched the activities of the uncle and nephew dolefully.

Later, after Coen rolled them back over and leisurely stroked his fingers along Julian’s spine (far too smug about feeling his spend leak from his nephew’s hole as his cock softened within) he listened to Julian spin the tale of woe of Aiden’s sins against Ciri. It all sounded very Lambert.

Julian croaked miserably into his uncle’s chest, “Can you help me, Uncle Coen? I really want to teach Aiden a lesson and I can’t do it on my own… I can pay you back as much as you want. I’d like that, even… I-if you would. I… I know I’m still just a kid, but you know I can make you feel good…”

Julian pried himself up from his position and looked down at him with pleading, bleary eyes. The boy looked like Coen had sedated him well and good, but the only thing he’d given him was his cock. Suddenly Julian rolled his hips and clenched down on his uncle’s length, and the resulting grip on his cock had Coen’s eyes nearly crossed.

“Fuck, Jules-,”

“That’s the idea, ungh, I’ll let you, ah ah as much as you like, oh OH if you’ll help, please Uncle Coen? Will you? Ah please?!”

Coen would definitely be talking to Geralt and Lambert first but… after all, he was a predator. His survival thus far had relied on his ability to sniff out an opportunity, and he smelled a delicious one approaching. He was not going to turn his nose up at it. Though he had to wonder how much of a big, bad predator he really was, twisted around this silly little slut’s finger as he apparently already was.

“Of course, baby, whatever you want.”

Toby barked suddenly in the background, startling them both into laughter.

“I think Toby just volunteered to help, too,” Coen sighed happily.

___

Dressed in Christmas finery, scrubbed, brushed, pressed, and pinned to perfection, Geralt’s children waited on the front steps of their house as their dad, Uncle Coen, and Triss greeted the rest of their family as they all pulled up in their cars that evening. Uncle Regis had left with Vesemir earlier after their chat to get ready for dinner at Vesemir’s place, so their arrival together on the golf cart was quite the sight. A slight dusting of snow had begun to fall again as the sun set, and jingle bells announced their arrival on the familiar, worn path through the forest. They’d even put decorative reindeer antlers on the top of the beat up old cart. Uncle Regis looked like he had walked off the set of any Christmas Carol movie - tophat, red scarf and all - and Vesemir was dressed as Santa this time, from boots to hat.

Eskel and Lambert wore suits to match Coen and Geralt, while Aiden and Julian wore black slacks and white button up dress shirts. Deidre was wearing a pretty red and gold spaghetti strap dress with just a few embellishments, though with a faux fur to cover her shoulders.

By comparison, Ciri’s outfit was quite fancy, but Uncle Regis had explained earlier the reason for that. This wasn’t just any old Christmas dinner for her .

She’d just wished this outfit came with underwear. It was a little breezy outside.

Her dress was velvet, a very pretty maroon, with long sleeves that had triangle cutouts at the shoulders. It had a plunging v-neckline and was skintight until it cinched in at the waist, and let out into a chiffon skirt that drifted ephemerally around her thighs and ended just above her knees. Geralt had asked her to wear a few of his favorite rings and bracelets from her own growing collection, and the dress came with several thin silver chains that drew further attention to her too-flat chest, in her opinion. She had been growing, it was just… not very much. Not enough, nor as much as she wanted, anyway.

Triss had disagreed as she had tackled Ciri’s hair to help her get ready earlier, noticing her mulishness at her perceived fault in appearance. The Rivia family nanny pinned her hair up on the sides and continued to fiddle with the back.

“I saw your pretty breasts this morning, Ciri. Your daddy couldn’t stop touching them.”

Ciri rolled her eyes.

“Did you see him touching mine?” Triss pressed.

Ciri almost shook her head before she remembered she had to hold still. “No.”

“See? Men like different things, all different shapes and sizes, even different things at different times. There’s a reason he wants you to wear this dress, and I’m sure one of them is because he wants to admire you, admire your breasts. You’re young Ciri, and I understand it’s hard to accept this new kind of attention, but doubting yourself isn’t pretty. In fact, it can turn a girl very ugly indeed. Be proud of your body. Geralt loves it, and he loves you. And tonight he wants to show you off like the gorgeous little treasure you are. Besides, your body won’t stay this way forever. Someday you’ll miss being this size and shape, so enjoy it while you have it.”

Triss has never spoken so much before, and she sounded downright smart in that moment, if anyone had asked Ciri’s opinion. Then the older woman had smiled at Ciri blankly as if she hadn’t said anything at all, and decided to leave the back of Ciri’s hair flowing down. Triss then reached for her own clothes and changed into the most scantily clad Mrs. Claus outfit Ciri had ever seen.

It wasn’t actually so much an outfit as it was the outline of an outfit, suggesting the idea of Mrs. Claus. Her breasts were fully exposed, but framed in red ribbon. The typical red skirt with white trimming one would expect was there, only the fabric was a see-through gauze material Ciri was very familiar with by now and was quite short, with no underwear beneath, like hers. Next were some sheer red stockings, red high heels trimmed in white fur, and finally, a cute little Santa hat that had been bejeweled.Then Triss finished the look by wrapping a familiar looking red choker with a Christmas bell attached to it around her neck.

“Would you like some makeup before we go join everyone?”

“Oh… yes, thank you Triss.”

Ciri had felt a little better after that pep talk, and even better when she noted the plainness of Deidre’s dress compared to hers when she’d arrived, though she did feel a little guilty about that pleasure, especially since Deidre shyly complimented her and glued herself to her side immediately.

Once everyone had finally arrived, they all filed down to The Basement, awkward as it was to march one by one through the linen cabinet. The Christmas decorations and happy chatter alleviated the strangeness of it, and Ciri was almost excited by the time she was ready to pass through the door, with her father ahead of her and her brother behind her.

The plain hallway at the bottom of the stairs had been decorated with Christmas garland, ribbons, and lights, and it changed the feel of the space entirely. The initial strangeness was immediately replaced by that familiar sense of Christmas wonder, especially now that her cousins were there and more voices filled the space.

In the back of her mind, what was to come still loomed, but there was no point in dwelling on that now, as it would be here soon enough. So she let the splendor of the scene titillate her typical childhood excitement, and followed excitedly when Deidre grabbed her hand and took off down the hall.

The boys followed closely behind, laughing and hollering, the adults yelling half-heartedly after them. Ciri could smell apple-cinnamon and orange and freshly baked bread and savory things, and their noses led them to The Dining Room.

The first thing she noticed was a gloriously decorated Christmas tree filled with yet more presents. After a moment this made sense - of course her father had gotten gifts for his extended family, and they for him and his kids.

This dining room wasn’t just any dining room, either, Ciri noticed - it looked like something from the set of Bridgerton! There was a gorgeous turkey dinner that would have rivaled any holiday dinner back home, and it made for a very grand scene, especially lit by the largest chandelier Ciri had ever seen outside of a church.

“Ciri, come sit here,” Geralt instructed after they’d all filed into the room and done the requisite gawking and commenting on the dinner and decorations. He was sitting at one end of the table and indicated his knee.

“Everyone, find your seats as well! Triss will be serving dinner now. Aiden, I saw that, and if you want any presents at all , you will put that back.”

“Yes, Papa!”

Ciri noticed that all the seats were taken, even as she crawled onto her daddy’s lap with Papa Ves at the head of the table. They hadn’t mentioned anything earlier about sitting in daddy’s lap, but she supposed it didn’t matter. To her right, Julian smiled at her excitedly.

“Daddy’s got the special vibrator I gave you on Santa Catalina,” Geralt whispered hotly into her ear. “I want you to sit facing the table, your knees spread over mine like that, and focus on eating your meal while I make you feel good, okay? That’s my girl. Papa Vesemir is going to make a speech after we eat and there will be lots of toasting. Then we’ll pass presents around. Until then, I want you to try and stay focused on your dinner and be as quiet as possible, okay sweetheart? We don’t want to interrupt everyone’s dinner.”

Ciri scoffed inwardly despite her nerves. She nodded and resisted the urge to close her legs and squirm as she felt the cool metal of the vibrator shock the skin of her thigh as he slid it under her dress.

Triss began moving around the table to serve each plate, smiling serenely as she was caressed, groped, and molested during the process. Her uncles were shameless about it, trying to one up each other even, trying to get her to squeak, or drop her utensil as she made her way around. Even Deidre gave Triss her fingers to suckle obediently as she loaded her plate up with mashed potatoes and green bean casserole.

She eventually made her way over to Ciri and her father and began serving their meal.

“White potatoes or sweet?” Triss asked.

“White for me,” Geralt said as he teased a finger at Ciri’s entrance, already wet.

“White,” Ciri eked as Geralt settled the device over her nub and clicked it to the lowest setting. “Please. Thank you, Triss.”

“Your welcome, sweetheart. Gravy?”

“No, thank you.”

“Yes for me.”

Her dad opted for a piece of dark meat, and Ciri for a bit of the breast.

She couldn’t fathom reaching out and taking from Triss the way the rest of her family had felt comfortable doing. They’d only just touched for the first time this morning. But she couldn’t help but admire her beautiful curves and perfect breasts and how great she looked despite the absurdity of her outfit. She looked like she knew she looked good - you could probably put her in a hotdog suit and at least a couple of the men in her new family would still bend the woman over eagerly.

Her pussy throbbed with the vibrator against her clit and the strong, hard warmth of her father’s bulk at her back. He’d stopped teasing her entrance and clutched his free hand possessively over her belly, his thumb idly stroking through the velvet over dress while he kissed and sucked her neck and shoulder.

“Oh dear. Your poor dad will never get to eat his meal that way. Tell you what, I’ll come back around to feed you something every few minutes. Ciri, your father told you to focus on your dinner, remember?”

Ciri’s eyes had begun to fall shut as she approached her first orgasm far too quickly, but she opened them up just in time to see Julian smirking at her, and Triss looking at her expectantly.

She cleared her throat daintily, again fighting the urge to close her legs and squirm (especially knowing the rest of the table was watching the ordeal) and she picked up her fork.

Unfortunately, the orgasm wasn’t receding.

She whimpered as she fumbled the fork and the pleasure and heat built where she strained the muscles deep in her core, clenching around nothing. She tried again with her fork, since Geralt cleared his throat as a reminder. She managed to swipe some potatoes on to the blasted thing as her pleasure crested, and she moaned and shook as she took her first bite and the orgasm broke over her.

She realized it would take some coordination not to choke, which was a little like swallowing daddy’s semen while Julian made her come, she realized. Thankfully her daddy pulled the vibrator away before she became too overly sensitive, and she sighed and sank back against him as he kissed her shoulder languidly.

“Very good, baby. That was so pretty to watch. Don’t get too relaxed, you’ve got a whole meal to eat. Ah, thank you Triss-,”

Ciri leaned forward and had intended to snarf down several bites while Geralt was preoccupied being hand-fed by Triss, but her daddy was too quick and apparently a Grinch and quickly put the vibrator back on her nub, and she nearly choked on a bit of turkey.

She resigned herself to slowing down and accepting her orgasms after that, not wanting to make a fool of herself. They wouldn’t want to ruin her dress.

“That’s my girl.”

It wasn’t just difficult to focus on her food because her daddy had eventually slipped two fingers into her aching pussy, but also because things were getting a little rowdy at the dinner table. Poor Triss had just been bent over Uncle Eskel’s lap, her head buried in Uncle Regis’ crotch to Eskel’s right and Aiden gleefully slapping her ass red and fingering her cunt on his left. Across the table, Uncle Lambert sidled up next to his youngest niece and waited for her to push her plate away. Then he’d put his hand on the top of Deidre’s head and slowly guided her down to the floor between his knees with nothing but a smirk while Uncle Coen watched.

“Julian, go sit in Santa’s lap,” her daddy growled.

“ Yes daddy,” Julian purred.

Suddenly Geralt stood up, holding her hips steady as he bent her over the table. “Finish your pumpkin pie, baby. Daddy’s gonna have his dessert now.”

Ciri gasped and tried not to plant her face in the pie as her daddy got on his knees behind her, lifted her chiffon skirt, and buried his face in between her legs. Her knees buckled but it didn’t matter because the arms holding her up were strong and would never let her fall. Her own arms on the other hand were another story, and she took a deep breath as her daddy’s tongue tried to wriggle to her very core. There was no way she was going to be able to use her hands.

“AAH!”

Geralt spread her cheeks far apart and licked her from clit to asshole, pulling back to blow on her. “What’s the matter, baby? Too full for dessert?”

“Ooh, daddy-,”

Geralt swirled his tongue over Ciri’s asshole while he slipped a finger into her cunt, finger fucking her slowly as he delivered firm licks to the so far untouched dusky bud he looked forward to someday violating.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh!”

Eventually, Triss reached across the table as Eskel fucked her and she fed Ciri her pumpkin pie. It got a little messy, but Triss was sure to lick up every crumb from Ciri’s face and lips.

Papa Vesemir redirected everyone’s attention after that. Ciri thought it was a little inconsiderate, as Uncle Eskel hadn’t even come yet. In fact, she was pretty sure she was the only one who’d come since dinner had started, which seemed a little weird.

She could recall that her new grandfather talked about their family history in his speech, something about building the property, things to look forward to in the coming year. It was hard to focus once daddy started putting his fingers back inside her. It was hard to remember to stay quiet, too, but she managed okay once Julian gave her his thumb to suck on.

There was a round of toasts then. Her daddy allowed her a gulp for each toast, and by the end, she was giggling and wishing he would put his cock in her. Suddenly there was a bit of chair shuffling as platters were cleared, harder drinks were poured (of which Geralt and her uncles all threw back several in succession) and zippers and buttons started to come undone in earnest.

Geralt stayed put with Ciri held tight in his embrace.

Vesemir stood from his chair, still in his Santa costume, and together he and Regis distributed the gifts from under the tree. Ciri wasn’t sure what she expected - certainly not prior to coming down here, and certainly not as she sat there, her pussy still twitching from her last orgasm and her nipples achingly hard under her velvet dress, floating happily from the alcohol.

There were platinum nipple clamps from Uncle Regis for Deidre. Uncle Lambert, inspired by Julian, arranged a piercing session for Aiden with Uncle Coen the following day. Papa Vesemir had gotten Julian a very expensive new camera with firm instructions to provide Papa Vesemir with a portrait of a naked Ciri on Lara Dorren, like he’d mentioned months ago.

“Isn’t that technically you getting yourself your own Christmas present, Papa Ves?”

“Goggle the price of that camera, boy, then you tell me.”

“...Goggle, grandpa? Seriously?”

Ciri had her own pile, but Geralt encouraged her to relax against him for a few moments. He didn’t give her any more champagne, but he did encourage her to drink juice and water in turns as she observed the gathering. He still caressed whatever skin he could touch and kissed her neck and shoulders, and occasionally brushed his fingers across her pussy teasingly.

Deidre was naked now, Ciri suddenly noticed, and patiently letting Uncle Regis adjust the aforementioned nipple clamps. At the same time, Triss was stringing a fine, gold-chain outfit Papa Vesemir had gotten for his youngest granddaughter about her tiny, pale form. A further ways down the table, Aiden whimpered a very satisfied, “Ungh, thank you Uncle Geralt!” as Lambert fitted him with his new custom-designed plug, courtesy of said uncle. Meanwhile Julian was feverishly inspecting the new camera and adjusting the settings so he could get the heartwarming family moments on film.

“Would you like me to open your gifts and show them to you while you relax, Ciri?” Triss appeared at their side again looking a little disheveled, her skirt slightly askew and her lipstick and hair mussed, but smiling happily nonetheless.

“You’re a fucking Yuletide angel, Triss,” Geralt grunted before Ciri could answer. She was going to wave her off, but it seemed that her father had other things in mind. “I owe you my thanks for all your help this season, especially since we brought my little princess home. I know we can all be hard, grumpy bastards, but we appreciate you, sugar.”

Geralt reached forward over and drew the woman to him by her waist, urging her down into a wet kiss, groping her ass and jostling Ciri as he did.

Ciri’s eyes were round as saucers as she looked over at her brother. He, too, was watching this little exchange with a gobsmacked expression.

He mouthed at his sister in horror and hilarity, “SUGAR?”

They both broke out into giggles at their father’s drunken antics, and Geralt either didn’t notice or didn’t care, that’s how drunk he was.

Triss smiled indulgently as she was released, and reached for the first present from Ciri’s pile.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Rivia. I’m happy to help as always! Now, Ciri, from your Uncle Coen, it looks like he’s chosen a lovely lavender ball-gag with rhinestones, and this has a great feature - it’s flavored like a lavender latte! I hear it’s great for subspace.”

Geralt groaned and buried his nose in Ciri’s neck.

“Th-thank you, Uncle Coen!” she remembered to warble as Geralt returned the vibrator to her clit.

It took a while to get there, but the last gift at the bottom of the pile was from her daddy, and it was the largest. She gasped when she recognized the Sybian logo. Forgetting by now that she was meant to stay still, she wriggled around to hug her father properly and shower his face with kisses.

“Thank you daddy! Thank you thank you thank you!”

Geralt chuckled.

Then the debris from the opening of presents was cleared. Vesemir had left at some point without Ciri noticing, but when he returned, a heavy feeling took hold of the room. The Santa suit was gone and he was completely nude. It wasn’t a shock to her, or anyone else. His cock was hard and a darker shade of purple-red than Ciri had ever seen before.

Everyone re-took their seats, though no one else bothered to redress or tuck themselves back in. Ciri looked up at her father, who looked back down at her, and nodded. He took hold of her tiny waist and hoisted her up, waiting for her to gain her footing.

After sitting across her daddy’s lap like that and having so many orgasms, plus the liquid enhancement, her legs were a little shaky, so she was grateful for the consideration. He let go when she nodded.

Vesemir re-took his seat at the head, his chair pulled out a good six feet from the table, his legs spread, cock jutting out proudly.

Ciri walked slowly but steadily into the cradle of her naked grandfather’s lap, looking only at his face and trying not to pay attention to anything else, ignoring how Uncle Regis hovered like some sort of creepy butler.

Vesemir slipped one weathered hand underneath the hem of her dress, sliding up her naked thigh and stroking.

“You look so beautiful tonight, my princess. The moment we’ve all been waiting for is finally here. The day my son brought you home to us, I knew you belonged to this family, Cirilla, to your brother and cousins, your uncles, and father. And I knew that you belonged to me . I knew that I was meant to care for you, to be your grandfather, protector and provider, as I am to all who join in the sacred bonds of our family. You are one of us, now. I will love, protect, pleasure, and guide you the rest of my life, Cirilla. Now will you give yourself to me, to show that you accept this bond and commit to our family with your entire heart and body?”

Cirilla’s heartbeat pounded hot in her ears and her fingertips tingled. Everything felt slightly far away again.

Papa Ves’ words sounded strangely like getting married.

“Yes,” she heard herself say.

She followed along as her grandfather turned her to face her family. All thoughts that she might keep her dress on flew out the window when he pulled it up over her head, handing it off with solemnity to Uncle Regis.

She stood there, bare for several seconds, until Uncle Regis turned her around again.

“How’s her head, Geralt?”

“I wouldn’t spend long on it.”

She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she didn’t linger on it. Uncle Regis placed a small pillow on the floor in front of Papa Vesemir. Ciri didn’t need instructions, not really, so she went to her knees and was secretly pleased at the compliments being murmured behind her back by her uncles. She looked up at her grandfather.

“Just make Papa nice and wet, baby.”

___

Vesemir groaned at the sight his granddaughter made before him. Geralt was right, these were very early days for her fellatio technique, but tonight he didn’t need an expert. He needed very little to reach his peak, in fact. The pageantry, anticipation, and build up had done its job, and everyone in the room had a short fuse. Thankfully Geralt had done a fantastic job priming her cunt for him all evening, all he’d need to do is put it in her and he’d be reasonably forgiven for immediately spilling like a green youth. He’d do his best to make it last somewhat and give them a show, though, not to mention something for her to remember.

“Look at the curve of her spine and her sweet little ass cheeks, nephews, children,” his brother commented with the same feverish passion he used when speaking of his horses. To Ciri's credit, she hardly flinched when Regis fondled said cheeks and ran one long, elegant finger along her crack. “She’s a supreme specimen of female adolescence. Her pussy is perfect, even after my dear nephew has been defiling that little hole with his brutish cock for months.” Vesemir’s white haired son chuckled with satisfaction from his end of the table. “I’d like to think I know a thing or two about a perfect little girl’s pussy, but I’d be hard pressed, even in all my worldly travels, to find a better example than Ciri’s and our Deidre’s.”

“Only the finest pussy in the Rivia family!” Lambert insisted arrogantly. The typical ‘ism’ of his youngest prompted laughter and agreement from them all.

“Well done, princess. Up on your feet now,” Regis instructed, giving her a balancing hand. Vesemir appreciated someone keeping them on track. He reached for the lube.

“She’s plenty wet, Vesemir, and your cock is soaked,” his brother interjected impatiently as he turned Ciri to face away from him again and walk her backward over Vesemir’s lap.

“I’m putting the lube on, Regis,” he said, exasperated.

“Fine . There now, love, we’ve got you, just sit back, just like that-,”

“Fuck, Uncle Reg, we can’t fucking see!” he heard Lambert complain.

Finally, the head of his cock was nudged between Ciri’s slick pussy lips and he grabbed himself at the base before she slid down.

“AAAAH!” she cried.

“THAT’S a good girl,” he growled as his granddaughter finally sank down onto his cock and enveloped him in the kind of tightness only a little girl's pussy could provide. “Aaah fuck, such a good girl-,”

“Nnnh ah deep! Hurts!” she gasped brokenly, the breath knocked out of her. Vesemir’s cock twitched inside her tight little body upon hearing the complaint. By the gods he loved little girls. He was so grateful his sons had gone on to have daughters. Ciri wasn’t even the smallest he’d had, but she felt sublime. Calanthe’s fucking granddaughter was speared on his cock - he could barely believe it.

“Papa Vesemir is thicker than your daddy, sweetling. Feels a lot different, does it?” Regis cooed sympathetically, and clutched his brother’s hand and encouraged him to drag it across his granddaughter’s belly.

“Each of us is going to feel different inside of you, princess,” Vesemir rasped, nosing fondly along her hair and temple, already drunk on the feel of her. “Your Uncle Eskel is the biggest, but Uncle Lambert fucks the hardest. Uncle Coen’s cock has an amazing curve to it that makes little boys and girls shake… You have a lot to learn, little one.”

Ciri whined and tried to shift her hips, but Vesemir held her firmly in place. Uncle Regis tutted and caressed her belly and breasts and the silver chains she still wore. Vesemir groped for the vibrator and settled it back on his granddaughter’s obscenely stretched clit and just enjoyed the erratic clench of her channel. She bowed forward immediately, still overly sensitive from the previous orgasms, not to mention the current penetration. Regis, ever so thoughtful, was helpful and took her wrists and brought them up and behind her Papa’s head so that she could hold herself up for her whole family to see as she was fucked.

Finally confident that Ciri was securely mounted, Uncle Regis moved back and waved for everyone else to move in, not that Ciri saw that. Her eyes were nearly shut and lost in the glitter of the chandelier overhead. She was overwhelmed by the feeling of being penetrated with a thicker cock than her father’s, in a position more vulnerable than she’d ever been in before, and on the cusp of another orgasm from the vibrator.

Vesemir’s sons and brother came to stand before him and Ciri in a row. From one end to the other, Uncle Regis, Eskel, Geralt, Coen, and Lambert. Then in front of them, the children and Triss filed in on their knees to service the men standing.

“Open your eyes, my dear,” Uncle Regis panted as he fucked into Triss’ mouth. “Your whole family is here to watch your big moment and help consecrate your bond.”

Vesemir’s suspicions held true. No one was going to last very long. Aiden was expertly working his father and Coen’s cock’s with both hands at the same time, and Lambert and said brother were exchanging sloppy, desperate kisses. Eskel whimpered as he thrust quickly and shallowly into little Deidre’s mouth, petting her face and pulling on a nipple clamp but staring unblinkingly at the place where his father and niece were obscenely connected. Vesemir was sure that if he didn’t finish soon Julian might pass out on his dad’s cock, as Geralt didn’t seem keen to let him surface for air.

Ciri moaned and huffed, squirming atop his cock. “Papa… please…,”

Vesemir groaned and delayed no longer. He set the vibrator aside, perhaps depriving her of her only chance at an orgasm during this, but he couldn't wait any longer. Slowly, he lifted his sweet little granddaughter up by the hips, the slide and grip of her pussy more glorious than anything he could think of, and dropped her back down as he drove his hips up.

“PAPA!”

Again.

“PAPA! OH!”

And again.

“AH! OH PAPA! OH!”

And again.

In her voice, he heard confusion. Delirious pleasure crossing the threshold of pain. She wanted to cry out for him to stop, he could hear it on the tip of her tongue. The feeling was too new, and he was being too rough. But he would not, even if she did beg.

“That’s it my darling girl,” he growled, wrapping his arms around her tightly as her grip on his neck slipped. He bounced her on his cock until she let out a truly broken sob.

“PAPA PLEASE! PAPA! I CAN’T! IT’S- IT’S-,”

“Just a little more, princess, Papa’s almost there-,”

Her cry spoke of pain and despair and fearful pleasure. That horrifically beautiful sound sent him over the edge as he slammed into her fluttering little pussy one final time, the flashfire of his orgasm ripping through his loins, deafening and blinding him momentarily as he flooded her sweet little cunt.

His cock hadn’t finished pulsing when he felt the satisfying splash of hot cum on his foot, then thigh, and arm. He blinked and the blurry figures of his sons and brother wringing their cocks of their seed onto his granddaughter came into focus.

It was done. Ciri trembled and sobbed in his arms and his family was crowding around him, showering her with words of encouragement.

___

Geralt watched, a sense of serenity washing over him, as Triss helped wipe Ciri down while Vesemir continued to cradle her in his arms. She was awake and whispering something to his father, and she seemed relatively okay. Vesemir would have said something otherwise.

Uncle Regis declared himself quite done for the evening and, after wishing everyone a very merry Christmas and delivering kisses to the foreheads of all the children, he declared, “Coen, my boy, why don’t you go get that delightful canine of yours and join me for a nightcap. And Triss, dear, once you’re done with your tasks, make sure to report promptly to my room as well.”

Coen grinned and took Uncle Regis’ offered elbow and they left. Geralt shook his head in fondness.

Deidre surprised them all next with her boldness by asking Uncle Lambert and her daddy to take her to the Dark Room for the night.

Lambert looked like he’d just won the lottery, and immediately asked if Geralt was fine keeping Aiden.

“So much for a silent night,” Geralt joked. Lambert guffawed at the terrible humor and swooped Deidre up into his arms and carried her out of the room with Eskel following right behind.

Whatever loss Geralt had felt at giving Ciri up to Vesemir for the night as was tradition was now pacified. He hadn’t had Aiden in months, and the little fucker was well overdue from a pounding from Uncle Geralt, and the little shit knew it. Yes, Lambert could fuck the hardest, but Geralt’s cock was significantly bigger, and he lasted longer. He and Julian were going to have a lot fun tonight. Good thing Lambert had put that plug in, the little shit was going to need the head start.

Aiden gulped hard from where he was standing with Julian by the Christmas tree, as if he could hide behind it.

___

Vesemir carried Ciri to yet another room in The Basement she’d never been to before. This one, however, merely looked like a regular little girl’s room. A very non-descript little girl, perhaps, but still. He laid her down on the bed, turned down the lights, and then licked and kissed her pussy until she thought she’d break from pleasure and pushed his head away.

She was so tired, and thought it must be time to sleep, and she was almost there, even naked with her legs spread and no blanket to cover her.

Then she felt his slicked up cock prodding at her folds, and he shushed her as she tensed.

“Be a good girl, Ciri. Papa has to come a couple more times and then we can sleep. I’m going to be real gentle, so just lay back.”

He was very gentle, as promised, going very slow, and on her back like this, it didn’t hurt as much as it had at the table. His hands were all over her, massaging and groping and pinching, and he kissed her almost non-stop, hardly taking his mouth off of her, especially her breasts and nipples. He never sped up or went harder, even when he came. He just pressed as deep as he could go and made her look him in the eye.

After the second time, he finally pulled out of Ciri and allowed her to sleep.

___

Vesemir remained awake for several more moments, just observing her and caressing her body, dipping his fingers into her cunt and smearing her juices and his cum in lazy trails over her pubic mound and thighs.

She was perfect.

He kissed her forehead before curling around her unconscious form and pulling a blanket up over them.

“Merry Christmas, princess.”

#House of Rivia #Making Room #The Witcher fic #dead dove do not eat #Geralt/Ciri #Geralt Jaskier

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sokovianheadtilt · 2 years

Text

Darlings And Darlings

Natasha Romanoff x wife!reader

Summary: No one knows about Nat’s personal life, not even about her wife and newborn child

Warnings: none i don’t think

A/N: Any Russian in this story came from google translate so if it’s incorrect my apologies, let me know and I’ll fix it, hope you enjoy!

Divider by @promenadewithme-graphics

Word Count: 865

Everyone knew not to pry into Natasha’s life outside of the Avengers. Last time one of them asked too many questions, Tony ended up with his face smushed into a glass table, and after that everyone learned their lesson. Doesn’t mean their curiosity wasn’t still peaking whenever she deflected from answering subtle questions. And it came to a head one day.

They were sitting at the table where they had their weekly meetings, everyone sitting in their usual spots. They were all listening to Fury go on and on about their past and future missions when Nat’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Not her work one, her personal one with only her wife’s number in it. She furrowed her eyebrows and opened it under the table, reading what was sent to her before abruptly getting up and leaving the room, ignoring Fury calling out her name for her to come back

“The hell was that about?” Sam spoke up. Steve looked at him and shrugged “I don’t know she didn’t even show any emotion” “Is she in trouble?” Wanda added as Steve shook his head “I don’t think so. It’s probably a personal reason”

Sam looked at him with mischief in his eyes “Perfect opportunity to spy on her” Steve immediately shook his head “No, are you crazy? She’ll murder us, with her bare hands, did you forget what she did to Tony?” Tony raised his eyebrows which disappeared behind his glasses “She gave me a concussion, and I think that was her being nice”

“Oh come on, she can’t keep everything hidden forever. And besides we’re like her other family and who keeps secrets from family?” Sam continued with Bucky looking back at him “How long did you keep the secret from Sarah that you worked here?” He smirked with Sam glaring at him “None of your business”

Tony rolled his eyes “Well you idiots can go have fun with that” he stood up from his chair “I want no part of it I like living, well sometimes” he waved at everyone before disappearing back down to his lab

Sam looked at the others “We’re so doing this right?” He watched Wanda smile and nod as Bucky and Steve rolled their eyes “I’m only doing this to make sure you don’t cross any boundaries” Steve stood up “Let’s get this over with”

Nat quickly pulled up on her motorcycle outside of a small, domestic looking house towards the outskirts of the city. It was perfect for keeping her and her family away from any danger that may come their way. She got off her bike before quickly going inside, seeing her wife sitting on the couch with their daughter who was on the verge of tears. You were also close to tears as you looked at back at Natasha.

“She’s not eating, her forehead feels warm, she’s been crying all day a-and she might be getting sick and I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry for calling you away from work, I know how busy you can be but I didn’t know what else to do-“ You rambled on with Natasha shushing you gently and coming over to lean down and kiss your forehead gently “Relax дорогой (sweetheart), I’m never too busy to help with you and Hera” You smiled softly and watched as Nat took the baby girl from your arms and smiled widely at her

“Hello немного любви (little love) you’re not feeling well hm? That’s okay” she stood up slowly and held Hera against her chest and rocked her gently, hearing her calm down a bit before she looked back at you. “I’m gonna go sit with her in the nursery, you stay here and take a break after you call the doctor and schedule an appointment for tomorrow to make sure it isn’t anything too serious” You nodded at her instructions and watched her walk down the hall to Hera’s room, talking to her in baby talk the whole way as you giggled at her actions.

Unbeknownst to you both, all of Nat’s teammates were sitting a car not too far away, using Redwing to try and peek into the house they saw Nat’s bike parked outside of.

“What do you see?” Steve asked Sam as he tried to look at the screen to see inside “Nothing much, just a woman on her couch on the phone”

Sam nodded a bit and watched the woman stand up to go to another room in the house, leading him to make redwing follow her to another window where he could peek in. That’s when he saw all of them, the woman standing beside Nat…who was sitting in a rocking chair, holding a baby which was asleep

“Holy shit” Sam exclaimed “Language” Steve reminded him as he kept watching “Is that- Nat has a kid?” “And wife or girlfriend by the looks of it” Bucky added

Steve smiled softly, happy that one of his best friends has a family. He can tell Nat is finally truly happy after all these years “No one brings up that we were here, otherwise I’m throwing all of you under the bus”

Sam chuckled “Deal”

Part 2

#sokovianheadtilt #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #black widow #natasha romanoff fluff #wife!reader #the avengers #natasha romanoff x wife!reader

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mildkleptomaniac · 3 years

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just a little shy — jj maybank x kook!reader

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: “ hi!! i love your writing, can i request jj x introverted kook reader? something where they have to meet the pogues maybe, angst to fluff? thank you so much and hope you have a good day ”

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: hi there! Thank you for requesting and being patient! I hope this is good! I struggled a bit trying to make it angst to fluff. The ending is sweet but???? who knows. I hope you enjoy and have a good day!

JJ laid comfortably on Y/N’s bed as she was getting ready for a boat day to finally meet JJ’s friends. She was filled with a bunch of questions, asking what each of his friends were like. Of course, she had seen them around town, but never actually held a conversation with them. There was one exception and that was Kiara during a beach cleanup day. Even then, Kiara gave her a cold shoulder. Y/N didn’t grow up in Outer Banks, it wasn’t until a few months ago that she moved here.

JJ ran into Y/N at the beach a month ago. It wasn’t the best of days for her, as her surfboard broke and left her sitting on the sand and watching other people swim and surf. For some reason, that caught JJ’s attention. The two ended up chatting for quite some time, before she got a phone call asking where she was from. She was late to an early family dinner and JJ helped her pack her car. Before she left, JJ asked for the girl’s number. Later that night, she got a text from a cute surfer boy.

Ever since that evening, the two had been texting and snapchatting each other nonstop. The texting turned into secret hangouts, where the rest of the Pogues had no clue where their friend was going. JJ learned very quickly she was a Kook when he approached her house for their first date.

After their first date, that’s when JJ started to open up to his friends about her, but he left out her name and that she lived on Figure 8 with the Kooks. He contemplated telling Kiara about Y/N, but he put the pieces together when she mentioned a new family moving in—another Kook.

There was something about Y/N that JJ really enjoyed. She was quite the opposite of JJ; she minded her business and was rather quiet. JJ would ramble her ear off and she would listen, light laughs escape her lips, and he felt like she cared for him.

She does.

As she walked out of the bathroom, his eyes trailed over her body. She’s beautiful. Y/N walked towards JJ, sitting beside him on the edge of the bed. His calloused hands held hers and she smiled at him.

“Are you ready?” He asked and she nodded her head.

“I’m a bit nervous, what if they don’t like me?” She was worried, but JJ knew she was worried for the wrong reasons. She wasn’t as outgoing as them. She was never much of a party person or someone to spend all their time out and about.

“I think everything will be fine.” JJ was worried himself, just for the fact she’s a Kook. But if JJ could get over that fact, they certainly can.

Y/N held JJ’s hand the entire ride over to the Chateau. Heads turned at the sight of the car pulling up into the driveway, unfamiliar to anyone.

Once Y/N and JJ stepped out of the car, gears turned within the other’s minds.

JJ Maybank had been dating the newest Kook—Y/N Y/L/N.

Hand in hand, JJ led her to the outdoor porch. JJ felt proud to call her his girlfriend.

It wasn’t until they approached the rest of the gang that he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in close. She wore a smile as she fiddled with her fingers.

“Guys, this is Y/N—”

“We know.” John B interrupted, causing JJ to raise his eyebrow.

“And she’s my girlfriend.” He finished, giving John B a look.

Kiara and John B share a look, Pope just offering a small empathetic smile towards the girl. John B and Kiara were a bit in shock at the sight that JJ would willingly date a Kook. The concept of Kook vs Pogue never made sense to Y/N. JJ tried explaining it, but she dismissed it as stupid. Why would someone treat someone else poorly because of their financial status? She did nothing but give to the community.

“Hi there,” she waved to them, her voice soft.

“I’m Pope, nice to meet you.” Pope spoke up, trying to cut the tension. JJ glanced over at him, thankful for his action.

Pope only had the slightest hint it was Kook—only because JJ refused to bring her over when typically, the guest bedroom door would be locked.

The Pogues talked for the night, but never directly at Y/N. She was content with being quiet, she enjoyed socializing but never anything forced. Small talk for her was awkward—another reason why JJ liked her. She always talked big and was always straight to the point. He never had to guess with her.

Time had gone by and Y/N started to feel like she wasn’t welcomed. She was conflicted—they were JJ’s best friends and they didn’t seem to be warming up to her at all—other than Pope. Pope was having small talk with her and they got to know each other at a surface level.

“How long are you staying in town for?” Kiara randomly asked, staring at her.

Y/N laughed, feeling a bit confused about her question. “I moved here just like three months ago, I’d imagine I’d be here for a bit.” Her eyes flickered across everyone. JJ squeezed her hand.

“Right, well, JJ—what about you?” Kie looked over at him.

“What do you mean?” He was a bit taken back by his friend.

She let out a light laugh, “we all know Y/N won’t last through the summer. You can’t hold a girl for a week, what, this is a new record.”

Y/N felt her face flush, JJ promised her that he wouldn’t be using her. She confided in him that her last ex was just using her for all the nice things.

“Kie—what the hell?” JJ stood up.

“What? Am I lying?” She looked over at John B and Pope, who slump back into their chairs. Maybe Kiara was just jealous.

Pope sent Y/N an apologetic smile. She sat there, feeling the panic set in.

“Or is she just using you to make her parents mad?” Her eyes flickered over to Y/N.

“What’s your problem, Kie?” JJ questioned.

“It’s kind of obvious. We don’t need another Kook around here. Don’t you think Kooks are just overly privileged? Or that they’ll feel no purpose in life?” Kie listed off a few things, almost seeming overly defensive.

“You’re jealous.” JJ stated. The boys’ mouths gaped open and they shared a look.

“You just always bring girls around and they never last. I’m tired of meeting your little hook ups and then you decide to bring around the new Kook? It’s just priceless.” She exclaimed.

“I thought you got over this, seeing you’re a Kook yourself. What about Sarah?”

“Sarah’s different and so am I. We both know that we won’t screw you guys over. We want what’s best and we aren’t using you. Once shit hits the fan—Y/N will leave because she needs to maintain her perfect life, but Sarah and I will be here—we always have been.” Kie defended.

“Kie, I appreciate that you’re protective of your friends.” She started off, catching everyone’s attention. They weren’t expecting her to speak up in this situation, given the fact she’d been silent all night. “I get it, you’re worried and it must’ve been something that happened in the past. But I genuinely like JJ and my parents think the same of him. Obviously, they don’t know everything about him—but I do. And I just…I just want someone I care about, JJ, and for the people in his life to like me. Obviously, I struck a nerve, but you don’t know me. And JJ only ever praises everyone here.” She looked at everyone taking a deep breath. “And I get it if you don’t like me personally, but I just don’t think it’s fair because you don’t even know me.”

The silence falls over the group and she stand up. JJ wraps an arm around her shoulder, and they head back to her house. As she pulled JJ up the stairs, he then pulled her close to him.

“I’m so sorry about tonight. I don’t know why Kie gets like that. Protect mom friend of the group I guess.” He apologized into her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“It’s fine, I get it.” She reassured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It’s nice you have a protective group of friends.”

JJ spent the night, pressed up against her. He complimented the whole night through, discussing how either of them were using each other. JJ was truly interested in Y/N and the feelings reciprocated.

The next morning, Y/N woke up early and saw a car in the driveway. She woke JJ up and they both went down, shrugging on clothes. Outside stood Kie with a cooking dish, filled with a variety of fruits mixed together.

“I’m sorry about last night—I just don’t want to see JJ with a broken heart….and I saw you at the beach cleanup and…we can try to be friends.” Kie apologized. “The guys like you and I just made the night bad. Fruit bowls to make up and get to know each other?” She suggested, hopeful smile on her face.

Y/N nodded her head, JJ stood beside her with an arm draped over his girlfriend's shoulder. The three sat outside on the back porch, enjoying breakfast, and getting to know each other.

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #( jj maybank )#jj maybank x reader #kook!reader #jj maybank x kook!reader #obx imagines #outer banks imagine

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 3 years

Text

Types of love - Jin Drabble ft Jungkook {fluff + angst} Housemate au

You hear a deep sigh beside you as you take out the laundry from the washing machine.

“Noona what are you doing?” Jungkook sounds exasperated with you and it’s only 7 in the morning.

“Jin’s got a meeting at 12, I told him I’d get his clothes ready for him,” you grin brightly at your youngest housemate.

“Why can’t Hyung do it?” He doesn’t return the smile.

“He wanted a lie in.”

There’s that sigh again but you ignore it, it made you feel a little shame that you tried to push down.

“Okay new question,” you could see him pinch the bridge of his nose from the coroner of your eye as you put the clothes in the dryer. “Why are you doing it?”

You shrug, “he’s been busy and I just though-”

“Noona,” cold judgy eyes came from the maknae.

“Kookie leave it, I’m doing it because I want to,” your sunny outlook on today was suddenly dampened by the annoying brat following you.

“He’s taking advantage of you and your feelin-”

“Kook I said leave it!”

You slam the door as you walk out.

——————————————————————————

It was no secret to anyone that you may have feelings for the oldest of your housemates, even though you’ve never ever said it out loud. Your actions spoke for you. You always went the extra mile due to your unrequited affection, but you didn’t mind, you were always taught to love without limits and you swore you did what you did without expecting anything in return. He was just so handsome and funny, you were happy just to be his friend, even if your heart hoped to be something more, you couldn’t help it. Maybe he did sometimes take a little advantage of you? But truly you were to blame for that and you took full responsibility.

You and Jin ignored the way Jungkook was staring daggers at him as you brought him his tea with some cakes to the table when he got back from a long day of work.

“How was work Jin?” You asked.

“Perks of being son of the CEO, everyone offered to do my work for me,” cue the windshield wiper laughter you loved to hear. “The new girl on my floor slipped me her number, it was a pretty good day.”

Your heart sank and with it your smile, you forced it to stay on as he rambled about his day and the pretty new girl, if they both could see your discomfort they didn’t say anything.

Jin wasn’t oblivious he just didn’t care, Jungkook on the other hand now watched your reactions like a hawk.

“It may not be the most professional thing to do as her potential new boss but I may have agreed to drinks Friday night,” he chortles, his spiel coming to an end.

“You’re not taking over the business any time soon Hyung, hold your horses,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Wait Friday?” You suddenly speak after staying quiet. “Jin we’re all supposed to go for dinner Friday, we booked the table and everything.”

The three of you reserved dinner at the same place every year on the anniversary of you all moving in, it was an important night for you, you three were always so busy or tired so nights out were rare. Plus Jin was always so busy, he was either at work or at the gym or sleeping or out, the housemate anniversary was the only real time you got to spend with him.

“Y/n I think you missed the part of the story where I told you she was hot,” he argues with what he thinks is sound logic.

“Jin it’s the housemate anniversary, it’s sacred are you seriously ditching us for some random girl?”

“It’s not a big deal Y/n, hoes before bros you know?” he laughs at his own stupid joke and for the first time it irritates you a little.

“Not your bro Jin,” you grit your teeth.

“You might as well be Y/n, you’re not exactly the girliest girl ever,” he responds.

“Hyung,” Jungkook warns, finally butting in after watching your discussion like a tennis match.

You sit back in shock, did he seriously bro zone you? What the hell!

“Noona is pretty Hyung, stop being mean,” young Kookie comes to your defence when you fail to speak.

“Oh no I’m not saying she’s not, she’s just not my type,” why the hell was he talking about you like you weren’t there, he wasn’t even looking at you anymore. You sit deflated with you head low, biting back tears. Jin didn’t notice, when did he ever, Jungkook did.

“I think that’s enough.”

Jungkook was right, that was enough, you stood up to leave without uttering another word to them both. Once he heard your door close, Jungkook unleashed hell.

“What the hell hyung! Are you trying to upset her on purpose?” He seethed in a hush tone. “You know how she feels about you what the hell was that?”

“God Kookie don’t start on me it’s been a long day, it’s fun to pick on her a little, what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is you hurt her feelings,” Jungkook says a little louder still trying to control the rage he felt at the man sitting in nonchalance while he had his fists formed and jaws clenched. Jin shrugged his shoulders and Jungkook wondered what happened to his good friend, he was never like this before.

“Hyung you take advantage on her all the time, she literally does everything for you because she cares about you without expecting anything in return and you treat her like shit,” he explains, “it has to stop.”

“I don’t know why you’re lecturing me you brat,” Jin rolls his eyes, “I’m older than you by 5 years, learn some respect.”

Jungkook walked away before he laid his fist into his friend and lived to regret it, he didn’t realise you heard every word.

——————————————————————————

“Is he seriously not coming?”

It was stupid to hope that Jin would make an appearance while you both waited for him at home dressed and ready. He still hadn’t come from work... he finished two hours ago. You weren’t upset because you liked Jin, you were upset because you thought at least you meant something as a friend. Jin and Jungkook became what you thought were best friends for you, regardless of stupid feelings, you just thought they felt the same.

Jungkook stood next to your sitting form, moving his weight from foot to foot.

“I don’t think he is Noona, he said he wasn’t going to,” Jungkook sighed. “Why are we still waiting, we’re going to miss our reservation.”

He hated seeing you sad, if he could punch some sense into Jin he would, hell he’d punch him anyway for making you look so downcast. He sighs deeply again, throwing his head back in exasperation.

He kneels down in front of you, taking you hands into his as you look up slightly to meet his gaze. He has stars in his eyes, you think, why hadn’t you noticed before?

“Noona should we just cancel?” He asks delicately. “We can go get our pjs and order an Indian and have a stupid movie night.”

He was really trying to make things better you could feel it, your blatant emotions for his friend must’ve made him feel so uncomfortable but he’s still trying for you. You offer him a small smile.

“Sounds great Kookie,” you say sincerely.

——————————————————————————

“Oh my god are you kidding me!” Jungkook says half seriously yelling at you. “Iron man is way better than Batman.”

You laugh out so loud, you can’t remember the last time you felt like this.

“I didn’t mean it Koo,” you say between breaths of laughter. “You’re just so cute!”

He fights the red feeling blooming in his face as he pokes the inside of cheek with his tongue in faux annoyance. Jungkook was loving your impromptu movie night, it was the first time in forever you didn’t mention he who must not be named.

“That’s just cruel, you don’t joke about iron man, it’s blasphemy,” his words make you laugh harder and it makes him break out in a big grin, one that wipes away as you both hear the keys turn.

Jin was not expecting you both curled up on the sofa with take away containers on the coffee table when he walked home from a rather boring date. Your laughter dies in your throat before he even walked into the room, eyes boring into the tv. Jungkook keeps his arm around you in place, he felt warm and comfortable he didn’t want this feeling to end.

“Good date Hyung?” He doesn’t know why he asked when he could feel you stiffen in his hold.

“Yeah,” he says a little dazed at the sight in front of him. “did you guys not go out?”

“Nah we stayed in and had a iron man marathon,” the bunny teeth were out as he grinned.

“I lost Rock Paper Scissors,” you offered meekly. Why did you feel like you were cheating on Jin? That was ridiculous, you were not dating Jin and you were just friends with Jungkook, right? “Wanna join?”

He shakes his head, “no you guys look like you’re having fun, plus I’m a bit tired so I’m going to head to bed.”

You normally offer him some tea and cake at this point, but you stay silent, Jin tries not to read into why it makes his chest feel heavy with disappointment and something else he can’t quite figure out.

——————————————————————————

You were laughing loudly again, it was irritating the broad shouldered man to no end, he didn’t mind the sound honestly, he just hated the reason why you were in this state. Jungkook was making faces at you while you both cooked and honestly Jin couldn’t understand why you found it so funny.

“You look like a meme!” You chortle.

“Is dinner ready yet?” Jin interrupts.

“Patience Hyung,” Jungkook doesn’t break eye contact with you, still smiling brightly. He’s so pretty when he smiles, you felt like you hadn’t seen it for a while before your movie night.

“Are you two dating?” Jin slams his laptop shut in his outbreak, he didn’t mean to ask but it came out anyway. You nearly drop the plate you’re holding but Jungkook catches it before you let it go. Now your both holding a plate while staring at each other wide eyed, while Jin gawks at you both with a quiet anger simmering away inside of him.

Why are you both blushing furiously? Jungkook is the first to break away as he stares his Hyung down with his own anger.

“So what if we are?” He asks. “I don’t think it’s any of your business either way.”

“Jungkook...” you frown, you were not dating, why didn’t he just say no... why didn’t you just say no?

Jin scoffs, he couldn’t really say anything to that but it pissed him off.

“I didn’t realise you were into toy boys Y/n,” he jeers.

Now you were frowning at Jin as Jungkook started to shake with rage.

“I could treat her a lot better than you ever could,” he seethes back.

“You’re still a kid Jungkookie, Y/n always treats you like one,” did he seriously not hear the irony in his words?

“That’s enough!” It’s you that breaks up the inane argument. “Jungkook is not a kid Jin, just because he’s young and nice doesn’t make him any less of a man than you.”

They’re both shocked at your outburst.

“He’s been a wonderful friend to me for years, he’s always had my back, always looked out for me even when I was being a stupid idiot pining after you!”

The youngest of the trio can feel his chest full with warmth at your words and the way your glaring at the oldest with such disdain he never thought he’d see. Jin stays quiet at your onslaught starting to feel shame as he reflected on how he’s treated you through the years. He used to really adore you too, really appreciated everything you did for him but when everyone at work started treating him the same it became a normalcy, something expected instead of a gift.

“I’d be so lucky if Kookie dated me, although he’d be out of his mind to after how pathetic I’ve been, he’s the best guy I know, don’t speak to him like that.”

Jungkook can’t help the small smile fighting to turn the corners up on his mouth, Jin doesn’t miss the way he looks at you, full of love. You were an idiot not to see it, it had been there for a while.

“Noona, the pastas burning...”

You turn back to the stove feeling the heat in your face from your rant, you didn’t expect it from yourself to be honest. Jungkook stood beside you, mixing the sauce in the other pan while the room sat in silence.

He couldn’t help but steal glances at you, couldn’t help the hope in his heart build, maybe you felt the same way about him too. Maybe this is what redamancy feels like.

You try to sneak a peak at the man standing next to you, surprised to see his eyes already on you, you feel your heart stop for a second before it restarted anew.

You return his smile, you can’t help it.

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adam-banks2024 · 3 years

Text

Deja Vu

Part 1

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Kind of angst for now, backstory, arguments, and extremely slow burn. Also future poly

He’s insufferable

He’s arrogant. He’s rude. He’s annoying.

He is insufferable.

And I have to deal with him.

Of all the people Mrs. Moore could have partnered me with, she just had to choose him. It’s not like we even put a show on in public, and it’s sad but, everybody knows about the feud between us that started four years ago.

I had just moved to town from three states over, and I didn’t know anyone my age. After a few weeks of summer went by of not knowing anyone, my dad convinced me to join the district’s hockey team. He told me that it was because he wanted me to make some friends, but I knew that he really just couldn’t afford to pay a babysitter. And my mother, well, she wasn’t in the picture. So I ended up having to go through the lost and found at six different ice rinks in Minnesota in order to get all of my equipment. At first, I was wary of the idea, but my dad said that it was kind of like shopping, so I agreed to go with him. Originally, we would have only had to search five rinks, but I couldn’t find any skates that were my size. After almost twelve hours of rummaging through sweaty pads and broken sticks, I had myself a full set of hockey gear.

Now I was on to the next challenge: How To Skate. I had been ice skating a couple of times before for birthday parties, but I’ve never been able to skate at the level that I had to in order to survive during an entire hockey game. I thought maybe it would just come to me naturally after attending a few practices. Until I did some research at the school library. Apparently, it takes a person at least two months to learn how to ice skate. But ignoring the negative, I decided to focus on the positive. ‘I could at least balance myself...and besides, I probably would be on the bench for every game...and just remember, you’re doing this for friends.’ These were the only three things that ran through my mind on the way to the ice rink. I was honestly terrified. I was scared that the other kids would make fun of me, or worse, ignore me. Well, maybe being made fun of is worse, but at least then they’d acknowledge me. I had to stop myself from thinking about that kinda stuff. I haven’t even attended a single hockey practice yet, and now I’ve added at least four more stressors into my life.

When my dad pulled up to the building, my stomach was tingling. My hands were clammy, and my eyebags had definitely seen better days. I wanted to run so fast away from this place, and not move at all at the same time.

“Nerves,” my dad said. He must’ve noticed from my frozen state in the backseat of his minivan. “You’ll do great! Just don’t break any bones.” He chuckled at the end in hopes that it would come off as a joke, but that is definitely not how it sounded.

To my surprise, I was the first kid that had arrived. I didn’t know much about the team, but I did know that most of the other kids had been on it since they were five or six years old. I was almost the exact opposite, thirteen and just starting. I wasn’t really sure why I was the first person to arrive, and it only added to my nervousness.

I tried to brush it off as I saw someone outside in the parking lot leave a car holding a bag like you had. I could hear his muffled voice. “I’ll see you at six.” Whoever he was talking to must have responded because the boy spoke again, “yup, love you too.” A parent maybe. A mom? I could faintly make out a silhouette in the driver’s seat, but the glare from the sun blocked most of the car window.

Thank god someone else was here because at least now I knew that I was in the right place. But another problem arose. Now, different things were rushing through my head about what to say to the other boy. Should I make a joke, ask a question? Simply say ‘hello’? I didn’t know. So, I decided to settle on the most stupid thing anyone could ever say.

“Are you on the hockey team?” What kind of question is that? He has a bag, this time is cut out specifically for hickey practice, and he has a hockey stick with him. Why else would he be here?

He looked up from where he was walking and stared at me awkwardly. It was likely that he wouldn’t have even noticed me if I hadn’t said anything to him. But I did. Which I regretted.

“Oh, um, yeah.” He went to keep on walking but he stopped himself quickly. “Are you?”

I had to keep a laugh in because the boy looked genuinely confused. Or maybe I misjudged that for concern. Still, though, it sounded a bit hopeful. This kid was really hard to read. Either way, I was pretty sure that he thought I couldn’t play hockey.

“Yeah. My dad made me join to make some friends.”

Suddenly the boy’s demeanor changed. He seemed almost excited that there was a new kid on the team. “Well, I’ll be your first friend. My name’s Adam. Adam Banks. Walk and talk.” And then he started towards two big double doors.

My eyebrows rose at the sudden confidence, taken off guard, but at least he was being friendly. I adjusted your bags and followed right behind him. “So what’s it like here.”

He answered after struggling to open one of the doors, “Well it’s not so bad. It’s super cutthroat during the regular season but in the offseason, it’s pretty relaxed.” As I made myself around the outside of the rink, he kept rambling. “Especially during summer league. The kids who only play during that league have it nice. You’ll definitely survive.”

“Um, so what happens during the regular season?” The thought of angry yelling coaches wasn’t appealing to me, but I could make it work

Adam shrugged his bag up so it wouldn’t fall from his shoulder, “Well. Usually, coach yells at us, tells us that if we don’t win we’re failures, and everyone is constantly fighting to be a starter.” There was silence. “So that’s fun.” I just nodded my head, trying to take this all in. Adam didn’t say anything until he reached the locker room doors. Then he turned to me. “Yeah, but coach is a lot less lenient during summer because it doesn’t really matter for playoffs.”

I scoffed, “yeah, but I’ll eventually have to deal with him. Right?”

Adam’s expression flattened, “Wait, you’re doing winter league too?” He looked genuinely concerned, and now I was second-guessing joining hockey. If this boy didn’t think I could survive, then how could I? Even if I was just gonna sit on the bench, the way this kid was making it out to be was not sounding like the greatest way to make friends.

“Well, yeah. Is that bad?” I needed to hear him say it. Say that I should quit, or join dance, or something. Just so I could have an excuse to tell my dad in case the first day of practice goes awry.

He spoke fast, “Oh no, no. It’s just that--”

“That I’m not good enough…”

He didn’t say anything. Harsh. I was just trying to make a joke but, I guess that’s what he was really thinking. We stood in silence for a few more seconds, and then he finally thought of something to respond with.

“No. I just feel like you’ll get hurt… and, um.”

I started to laugh. I applaud Adam for trying to make it seem like he didn’t think I was bad, but he just couldn’t do it. “Don’t sweat it, I know I’m gonna be bad.” He started to laugh with me. “Hey, at least I’ll get abs out of it.”

He and I were actually pretty good friends for the most part. He was my first friend here in Minnesota. He taught me how to skate, and in turn, I offered him some sub-par jokes. He always used to laugh at my jokes even if they were awful. He was what I considered my best friend. He definitely wasn’t a best friend, I couldn’t confide in all of my secrets, and he couldn’t do the same to me, but Adam was the only kid I was friends with. We laughed hard, we fell on the ice together. He even told his mom that practices started to end later just so he could wait with me until my dad got off work and picked me up.

Not long after we bonded, I hato the ducks. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what happened. All my dad said to me was something about how the coach wasn’t that nice, and that he didn’t want me on his team. I didn’t really care since hockey wasn’t something that I cared about too much. So I said goodbye to Adam and explained that I had to go. I didn’t say anything about the coach-not-liking-me part because then I thought he’d feel bad for me.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to switch teams too, but I think my dads’ gonna see if I can stay on the team.” He spoke almost as if he was trying to convince himself. I thought it was a great idea to tell him why he had to go to the ducks.

“They don’t want you, Adam. Maybe if you go to the ducks, you’ll get a coach who appreciates you.” I didn’t know what was wrong with what I said to him until about a year later, but by the time I finished my sentence, he was fuming.

The situation afterward was a blur, and I can’t remember what all was said. I just remember Adam touching on the fact how I’m an awful hockey player, and that he only talked to me because he felt sorry for me. Now, if my old coach had told me that I was awful at hockey, I’d be completely fine. I already knew that, and coach is just...coach. But hearing it come from Adam? It wasn’t like he was just telling me how it is, he wanted to hurt me.

It took me two weeks to stop thinking about the situation constantly, and then it started to fade away. I never even told him the real reason why I told him what I did, but now I have to work on a history project with him. How am I gonna do that if I can’t even tell him the reason for our quarrel that we had three years ago? Let alone complete a whole project?

“The syllabus will be given tomorrow, and the deadline for this project will be written under the ‘AP History’ bulletin. You may get to work.”

I slumped out of my desk and started putting away my things that were on the table attachment. During this, I tried to think of what I was going to say when I went over to him. I almost decided on either trying to make a truce or just acting like he didn’t exist.

He was slouched in his desk, pencil in hand, avoiding eye contact with me. As I sat down my stuff on an empty desk near him, his words startled me. “So, 50/50?”

I just stared at him. For some reason, my brain could not process what Adam had just said. It took a solid four seconds for me to respond. “I don’t understand.”

Adam’s eyebrows rose while his eyes rolled, “Of course you don’t.”

I scoffed, “What, you’re just gonna say some numbers and you think I’m gonna understand what you’re trying to say?”

He was leaning forward in his desk now, “Well you seemed to be doing well in calculus, so, yes.” A small, mocking smile was now gracing his face.

I took in a deep breath to try and refrain from spewing whatever profanities came to mind. “Look, can we just set aside whatever this is so we can do this project?” He crossed his arms in response. “C’mon, I can’t afford to get a bad grade.” Still no response. If his goal was to ruin my life, he sure was on the right path.

“What do I get out of it?”

The audacity.

“I’m just saying. I’ll be fine with one bad grade, so what exactly is the payoff for tolerating...you?”

So there was a shiny glimmer of hope, but it would definitely come at a cost. “Anything. Anything you want. Just please, tolerate me.”

He brought a hand to his chin, acting like he was pondering his choice, “but will it really be anything?”

“Oh my god, you are so annoying.”

“Watch it.” His voice was stern.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. But yes, anything. You name it.”

Did he even know what he wanted? Or was he just trying to play this out? Either way, I’m about to have a conniption if we don’t start working on this project soon.

We sat in silence for what felt like forever. Of course, Adam had to change his thinking position almost every second, until he decided on what he wanted. “Okay, here’s the deal. I help you get your precious little A, and you have to get me a date with Charlie.”

#the mighty ducks #the mighty ducks imagine #the mighty ducks x reader #mighty ducks #mighty ducks imagine #mighty ducks x reader #adam banks #adam banks imagine #adam banks x reader

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

What’s Wrong with Superman?

Summary: Flyman is a really stupid name.

a/n: I got a little excited so here’s my entry for @redhoodssweetheart ‘s writing challenge. If you’re a fic writer, I highly recommend joining. This is for Quotes #1 This fic is based on the Superman Man of Tomorrow movie so it may not make sense otherwise.

Warnings: Reader is a bendy person so the physical descriptions will be weird and there will be some nsfw language but nothing happens.

masterlist

"What's wrong with superman?" You ask, raising your feet up over your head and resting them against Clark's wall. The blood rushes to your head but you couldn't find the energy to care, not when the work day had you drained and aching. You're just happy to stretch your limbs and contort in angles that would loosen them. You need to convince your supervisor to transfer you to a different division.

"It's kinda..." Clark waves his hand. "Yanno..."

Eloquent. You raise a brow at him telling him exactly what you thought about his solid argument.

"How about Flyman?" He says quickly.

"Ah yes, like the illustrious Batman but somehow worse." You say, turning onto your belly and nearly knocking over the things on Clark's bedside table. You shrug innocently. You shift, putting your feet over your shoulders as you think. "How about uuuuuh Captain Barbel?"

"Why?"

"Cus the guy could chuck them at people real easy." You answer simply. Clark really can't tell whether it was your excessive fidgeting or your monumental leap in logic that entertained him more.

He snorts, "That sounds like a dumb gimmick."

"So is being called Flyman." You huff.

"Careful, you're gonna hurt my feelings." Clark huffs in return, shaking his head as he grabs your favorite mug and one for himself. He has no idea how this specific mug was lucky but he's learned not to question a scientist's superstitions. Though he suspected it had less to do with actual superstition rather that you didn't want to admit that you just found the little cow-shaped mug adorable. He'll have time to tease you about it later. For now, he had to figure out this conundrum.

"If I was concerned about that, I would have pronounced Kansas properly by now." You say, sitting up to face him properly.

"What would you call him? Seriously." Clark says, resting against the kitchen counter. He's watching you with a hint of fond frustration. His leg bounces against the floor, fingers tapping on the linoleum countertop.

"Hmmmm," You purse your lips and lean forward- elbows on your lap, fingers laced together, and chin resting on your hands. "Wonder Man?"

Clark's handsome face breaks into an incredulous smile. "Pfft, you’re joking right?"

"I have never made a joke in my life." You grin, taking the cup of coffee from Clark and scooting over to make room for him. You shrug. "There is a reason I'm not in advertising but seriously I think you should just go with superman."

"And give Lois the satisfaction?" Clark asks over the rim of his mug. He raises his brow.

"Think about it."

"Rather not."

You push on, ignoring him."If you popularize it, guess who gets the credit?"

"Are you telling me to steal?" Clark gapes at you and the mischievous glint and his blue eyes make laughter bubble in your chest.

You blow out a breath into the neck of your sweater. Well, his sweater up until 2 months ago. "Nope. You're the one interpreting it that way."

"Your boss is rubbing off on you."

"Oh, don't remind me."

"How about Captain Marvel?" He suggests, wrapping around his arm around your shoulder. You can smell the caramelized sugar in his coffee. You blanch.

"Oh. So you want a lawsuit."

"No..." A complicated expression takes over his face. His lips purse to one side as he thinks. You wait patiently for his answer, snuggling up to his side. "How's it working at star labs by the way?" He says finally and you just had to love the clumsy way Clark tries to redirect conversations. He needs to get better at that if he wants to be a reporter. Then again, he's never failed to get an answer out of you with the earnest look in his eyes.

"I'm supposed to be in the engineering division, yeah?"

He nods before resting his face in your hair.

"Yeah, yeah. Him. Blegh." You wrinkle your nose and stick out your tongue, waving your hand in the air as if to shoo a thought away.

"But they stuck me with checking on that asshole biker wannabe..." You sigh.

"Lobo?" He asks, his voice rising a bit. Clark's grip in the mug tightens a bit but he has enough presence of mind not to break the mug.

"Well, did he say anything?" Clark asks, adjusting his glasses.

You squint. "My name isn't going on the paper."

"It won't." He says flat and steady. And you know you can trust him because, well, it's Clark.

You give him a crooked smile. "Nothing useful really. How much patience do you have for shitty pick up lines?"

Clark stiffens. "He was hitting on you?" He squares his shoulders. You see his jaw tighten and you think you can hear him grind his teeth. God, he's cute when he gets like this.

"He was hitting on anything with two legs."

And he was. Well, not really. You honestly couldn't really tell what his category for this thing was but you're pretty sure Clark doesn't care. He seems to care more about the fact that Lobo was hitting on you judging from the way he's borderline pulling you into his lap. You, frankly, were more concerned about what weird category you fit in to catch his eye.

"Maybe if I go with you next time..."

"You're cute Clark but I'm not sneaking you in there for a story." You pat his cheek. Clark pouts at you. You try your best not to squeal at how cute he is. You fail.

"Let me come in with you." He presses.

"Honestly, it’s fiiiiiiiiiiine. Nothing I can’t handle."

He still looks unconvinced.

Clark buries his face deeper into your hair. "Hmmmmm, he sounds like an a- a jerk." He grumbles into your hair. You will get Clark to swear at some point.

You're extremely amused by Clark's behavior. You wrap an arm around him. "Clark, he is quite literally contained in a cage I helped design. He is not getting out."

"Should I tell him I have a boyfriend and show him a picture of you?"

Clark's face goes ashen. "Don't tell me you've done that before." That would explain so much.

"Then I won't." You laugh. That sound sends butterflies fluttering in his stomach no matter how many times he's heard it.

"I’d still feel better if I could come with you." He sigh. You would be lying if you said that you wouldn't feel better with Clark accompanying you. Sure, he wasn't Heracles but Clark was no pushover contrary to the shy demeanor. But... admitting that kind of thing was... not something you're comfortable with or used to so you let it settle like the cheap coffee in your mug.

"It’s really not necessary." And Clark knows from the frequency of your heartbeat that you're lying. He knows you well enough to let it go. You kiss his cheek. "But thank you, you’re disgustingly sweet."

You kiss him again. "Sides, I think he's just bored." Your eyes brighten, a memory resurfacing. Clark watches with interest, knowing there's a 50-50 chance that it's something like the material of Lobo's shoe. "Get this he says that superman guy is a kryptonian. Sadly, when I asked him the typical anthropology question he made farting noises." You tilt your head. "Well, he did say they were a good lay and... well the super guy was hung."

Red blooms on Clark's cheeks as he sputters out a response. You squish his face with your hands. You love messing with Clark way too much. You really should feel bad that look on Clark's face was priceless.

"Oh relax Clark, we both know my type is small town dork and not man from the moon." You giggle.

Clark kind of hates you sometimes. He hates how easily you throw him off balance. Clark rights himself but he can't quite get rid of the blush dusting his cheeks. "Did he say anything else?" He asks, face still squished.

Unable to stop your giggling, you put your hands away. "Well, he called our mystery streaker a pretty boy."

"Very relevant."

"Yanno..." You drawl, taking Clark's glasses off. "yanno if you push that hair out of your face you'd look pretty good too."

Clark swats your hand away. You pout at him.

He looks at you wearily. "I like my hair how it is." He mumbles, fiddling with it.

"I'm not gonna cut it you dork. I just want proof that you have a forehead." You say, brushing some of his hair out of his face. Clark really does scream handsome when given the chance.

There's a flicker of recognition in the back of your mind that has your pulse quickening. Clark can already see the pieces falling into place, your mind whirring to get the answer.

His mind sprints to keep up and counteract the flow of your thoughts. Clark leans forward and kisses you softly. Without needing to open his eyes, he knows your mind is short-circuiting. Affection was a sure-fire way to get your mind to slow down. It was dumb but you really should be allowed to be dumb sometimes. Especially now when Clark isn't exactly sure how your feel about the mystery streaker.

You laugh your easy chirpy laugh sure but that didn't guarantee you were on board with an alien of all things. He wasn't even sure if you would think of him as any more than a test subject. No, he knew you too well to think that but there's still some part of him that isn't entirely sure and it scares him.

"Behave," he says, his face in a grin. The expression lights up his face. The smug satisfaction of finally catching you wrong-footed fills up Clark's features and shapes them into something borderline evil. "Tell me more about Lobo and his ramblings."

You shake your head. You mumble some version of “I always behave”. You know Clark's hiding something from you. You can see it in the delicate way he's looking at you. You purse your lips deciding whether this is a good time to push but in the end, you decide to let him keep his secrets for now. If Clark of all people has a reason to keep a secret then it must be important. You brush your lips against his before laying your offer on the table. "A kiss per story."

Clark stares at you. "I can live with that." Clark huffs, adjusting his glasses.

#redhoodssweethearts1.7kwritingchallenge #clark kent x reader #clark kent #superman x reader #superman imagine

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mysoftboybensolo · 3 years

Text

The Alienist and the Soprano

Chapter 12: The Courtship

A/N: This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!

Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!

Warnings: Age gap, questioning of a relationship, but it gets resolved, hints of John x Sara (more of them will come in later chapters).

Laszlo didn’t quite know what to do when it came to courting. He himself had been so inexperienced in love and more so with social interactions that he feared that he’ll make one wrong move and ruin everything. It was one of those moments where he had to admit he knew nothing about the subject and must turn to someone who did.

John would never have thought in a million years that Laszlo would ever some to him for advice, and certainly not of the romantic kind. To see Laszlo looking rather on edge and uncertain gave John a small feeling of enjoyment as the roles have now been reversed, but he did not keep his friend suffering for long and entered the den.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” Laszlo spoke, “Especially on short notice.”

“That is probably the first time you had ever said that to me in all the years we’ve known each other. You must need my help badly.”

“I fear that I do. I-I have asked Evelina if I may officially court her.”

John’s eyes brightened with joy. “Laszlo, that is wonderful! She is indeed a remarkable woman.”

Laszlo smiled and nodded in agreement. “I have never felt this way about anyone, and I am afraid. I am afraid that I shall say or do something wrong and after everything that had happened in the previous days, the last thing I would want to do is cause any further scandal.”

John chuckled and teased, “If you want her to be scandal free, then she picked the wrong man.” John quickly realized what a mistake his choice of words was as he saw the visible hurt in his friend’s eyes. “I am sorry, I was only joking. It is amusing to see you like this though, because last I recall you had some choice words about love. Dull, no more than a mystery than cholera.”

He watched as Laszlo’s mood lightened as he recalled back on his own words and shook his head. “And I did believe them. Or at least, I wanted to believe them. She changed my mind. John,” he asked in a somber tone, “Do you think I am wrong to do this?”

John stared at him perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just, I am forty and she is just shy of her twenty-fifth birthday, a whole life ahead of her full of possibilities, and I feel like I am taking something away from her, especially with…” He doesn’t say the words, but his habitual gesture of left hand gripping the right wrist finished the sentence.

“Laszlo,” John sighed, “You two are not the first couple to have a difference in age, and many more have had even larger gaps then you do. And I resent the idea of you being too old, because it means I am as well, and I should like to think I am not too old for love!”

Laszlo offered a small smile, but a part of him knew that his relationship did mirror a bit with John’s feelings towards Sara, even though John was with Violet. That was something that Laszlo felt grateful in, not to be a situation where he is tied to one but loves another.

“And by now, she knows about your arm,” John continued, “I am sure that if she had thought less of you because of it, she would have left. Let us be honest, if she hadn’t left after her first meeting of you, then I am certain she is never going to leave. And I shall now share with you a lesson that I had learned a rather difficult way; never tell a woman what to feel, even if you do think she ought to feel differently.” John reached over and placed a friendly hand on Laszlo’s shoulder and grinned. “No one deserves to be happier than you, after everything that has happened, you deserve it. Take it, my friend, and enjoy it.”

Laszlo was touched by these words and knew John meant it. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you’d say that.”

“My god, Laszlo,” John chuckled, “If being in love placates you, then you must do it more often.”

“I intend to. But what do I do? I mean, what is it that people do when they court?”

John explained the socially proper rules of courting, such as never be alone with her without someone being there, places where they be together, gifts you can and cannot give, etc. Many of these rules made Laszlo roll his eyes, for they were built on patriarchal beliefs that did more harm than good, but overall, when he left John’s place, he felt comfortable to move forward in the relationship.

Evelina had felt herself on cloud nine, for it felt that everything was falling into place at last. The feeling of his kiss still lingered on her lips and it was like a drug that had prolonged effects, for even the stares and whispers that people made when she passed them hadn’t even bothered her. The party at the Roosevelt’s tonight should be able to help with that, especially with Edith Roosevelt in your corner, who had happily accepted Evelina into the party as soon as she saw her.

“Oh, my dear, you are just the loveliest creature ever, love suits you very well.”

Evelina blushed and asked, “Is it obvious?”

“Beautifully so. He’s over by the fireplace, his usual spot in events such as this,” Edith said, giving her a coy smile, knowing she’d want to go to him.

Because of how late the rehearsals went, Evelina had told Laszlo to go on ahead and she’ll meet him there, so this was the first they would see each other after the kiss, and they came together sweetly and shyly. “Good evening, Laszlo, did you sleep well?”

“Quite well, I had the most pleasant dream,” he softly spoke, looking down at her with such a tender love that he could see reflected in her eyes.

“A result from a rather wonderful moment from the previous night?” she asked, knowing full well that was the reason why, she just wanted to hear him say it.

“There can be no other reason.”

The party went extremely well, and Evelina had to say that Laszlo was a good sport, she knew how uncomfortable he can get at social events, which was partially the reason why he stuck close to Evelina. The other reason was because he just adored her so. It was quite apparent to everyone in the room by the end of the night, and many thought it a good match; economically, she will be married to a man who is one of the wealthiest people in New York, socially, he is less irritable when around her. Personally, they loved each other so much.

Laszlo was indeed right, people would move on from one scandal to another, as a week later it was revealed that a prominent society lady was having an affair with her stable hand, and everyone went mad over it. People still looked down at her for her profession, but she brought up a good point during one of their meetings, of how despite people looking down at the profession, they still come to her to hear the music they love.

“It comes from a need to control and a deeper level of jealously,” Laszlo said, “If they see someone that they can put down, then they will as it will make themselves feel important. But they also know that they need that person to provide a need they cannot get themselves, which can cause a sense of jealously and hostility and make them react in such a way. They try to convince themselves that the ones lesser than them need the higher class to survive, but the truth is, the society needs the workers more than the workers need them.” Laszlo opened his mouth to continue, but he noticed how Evelina looked at him and wondered if he spoke too much. “I’m sorry. I tend to go on rambling about such things.”

“Don’t apologize, it was fascinating. I like hearing you speak about such things; it only teaches me something new, but to see you go on about something that you enjoy, it makes me happy.”

Often people have told Laszlo that they didn’t care about his work, that his ramblings about facts, big or small, were not so interesting, and to hear that she not only enjoys it, but likes how it makes him happy, well, that made him even happier.

What made their courtship so different from everyone else’s was how open they were with one another. Laszlo certainly made it no secret that he did not approve of the standard norms of society, which is why he did things so differently, and while to some it would be an improper error, Evelina felt that they should not have to hide how they felt. Most unions were made for the sole purpose of advancement in society, but this one was an affair of the heart. But despite how they felt about these rules, they also knew that there were some rules that could not be breeched. Laszlo visited her when he knew Sara was home to “keep watch” over the pair, which meant she’d be in the next room typing away at her machine while Laszlo and Evelina had the freedom of being alone.

Mrs. Vidal had also played chaperone at the opera, watching with a careful but affectionate eye as Laszlo visited after the show. The first time he came by was after the premiere of Roméo and Juliette, having watched her fall in love, despair and die, all so tragically and beautifully. He looked down at her from his box with incredible pride and adoration, and what he couldn’t believe was that at the end of the show, when she was giving her final curtain call, she looked up at him and gave a small but noticeable gesture of blowing a kiss to him. No one else caught it, between the gesture being subtle and they so enraptured, but Laszlo noticed, and it warmed his heart.

He went down to her dressing room after the show, pushing through the usual crowd of admirers and was allowed the privilege of a private audience with the prima donna.

“Laszlo!” she happily exclaimed, rushing to wrap her arms around him, which caused him to gasp but chuckle as he returned the hug. “Did you like the show?” she asked with her face pressed against his chest.

“Oh, meine liebe, you were perfection itself.”

She pulled back enough to look up at him, with a look of pleasant surprise. “Laszlo, do you realize that you just called me by a term of endearment?”

He thought back and then apologized. “Oh, I hadn’t realized. I am sorry if you don’t like it.”

“Oh no!” she disagreed cheerfully, “I love it. I like to be called your love. But what shall I call you?”

Laszlo chuckled at her sweetness, “Whatever you like, I suppose.”

“It’ll come to me. Such a thing must come naturally, as it did with you. The company is having a party, Delmonico’s, your favorite. Please be my escort?”

He kissed her hand and declared it to be a pleasure and left her to get ready as he waited in the hall. Evelina watched as Laszlo pushed through the crowd and couldn’t help but to laugh at the thought of him getting lost in the crowd.

Maria, still in her nurse costume, was pushing through the crowd of men when she bumped into Dr. Kreizler was confused as to why he was down here. Managing to get through, she entered the room and quickly went to Evelina who was laying on the couch with her eyes closed. “Evelina, are you alright?”

Evelina opened her eyes and sat up with a smile. “Yes, shouldn’t I be?”

“Well, no, of course not, but I saw the doctor leave and I was worried.”

Evelina got up and went to her vanity with a smile. “No, I am perfectly well. Better than well, actually.”

“Good. Listen, I was thinking of us entering Delmonico’s in style. Be fashionably late and-”

Evelina gently interrupted and said, “I am sorry, Maria. But I am going with someone else.”

Maria was at first disappointed, then she perked up when a thought came to her. “Is it the same man of whom you have feelings for?”

Evelina began to wipe the stage makeup off as she nodded. “Yes. We managed to finally express our feelings for each other and he’ll be taking me tonight.”

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense, who is it?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it. “No, you’ll laugh.”

“Laugh, why would I laugh? Evie,” Maria placed both hands on her friend’s shoulders, making her look at her, “I promise, if I laugh, I’ll lend you my ruby and pearl earrings for the evening. Now, please, tell me?”

Evelina sighed, then said, “It’s Dr. Kreizler.”

Maria paused for a moment, her hands slipped from Evelina’s shoulders and a quizzical look came over her features. “Dr. Kreizler. The alienist?” Maria watched as Evelina nodded. “Huh.”

“Oh, stop it, I know you want to laugh,” Evelina muttered, standing as she tossed her towel on the vanity.

“No, not at all. I am perplexed, to say the least. He is indeed quite good looking and is more well off than Mr. Moore could ever hope to be, and he is older, but so is Moore. It’s just, well, Dr. Kreizler always just seems so…distant and harsh, and you two seem so different from one another. What on earth do you see in the man?”

Evelina’s face softened and an almost dreamy haze overcame her. “Oh, if you only knew. He puts on the air of being steely strong and mean, yet, if you could see him with the children, he’s remarkable, tender, loving. He suffered but only wants to help others avoid what he went through. He’s witty, humorous, brave. And his thinking is so modern, so unlike most men I have known. He believes in women having just as much rights as men, including holding their own jobs and casting votes. He’s wonderful.”

Maria whistled. “Well, in that case, I may just fall in love with him myself.”

“Hands off, I saw him first,” Evelina teased, smiling back at Maria.

“Oh, all right. I suppose I’ll have to settle for Ramon, the tenor,” Maria teased back. Then her smiled turned tender and asked, “But, you are happy with him? Truly?”

Evelina nodded. “Yes, incredibly so. We may not be so similar, but we are similar in where is counts.”

“And that is all that matters,” chimed in Mrs. Vidal. “It’s rather best you do not end up with someone who is completely like you, otherwise, neither of you will push the other to do better, and on the bad days, you’ll hate the flaws of yourself that you see reflected in the other. Dr. Kreizler is a fine man and any man who would risk his life the way he did for you, that is a man worth keeping.” Giving her a kiss on the cheek, Mrs. Vidal said, “You are very lucky, some of us never find the right one, enjoy him while you can.”

Maria smiled, seeing her friend looking so happy was wonderful, especially after the horror she had to endure, and if it was a man like Kreizler, who not only came to her aid but also made Evelina smile, then it was worth it. “Hear, hear! And speaking of, I should leave you to get dressed, can’t keep him waiting.” Maria stood and bopped the end of Evelina’s nose. “I am very happy for you. I’ll, see you at the party,” she called out from over her shoulder.

As Evelina got ready, all she could think of was how lucky she was that not only did she find a good man to love, but that the dearest people in her life liked him too. She almost wept to think that her parents could not be alive to have met him, but she knew that they would have liked him and would have wanted her to be happy. And she knew that she’ll never stop having her heart skip a beat, for when she stepped out after changing and saw him standing there, waiting for her, it was like falling in love all over again.

If people had not known that Laszlo and Evelina were a couple, then tonight had put everything to rest. People stared amazed at the sight of Laszlo walking Evelina into Delmonico’s, especially the opera company, who never saw this coming. It was of course not an unusual practice of a singer taking on the patronage of a wealthy person, but they of all the months that they had spent working alongside Evelina, she never seemed to be the kind to do this sort of thing. The highbrows of society had simply nodded their heads and declared that they had fully expected this of her.

But what changed it from being simply seen as an arrangement to an honest to goodness courtship was seeing that the pair had matched in their flowers; in his lapel, was a lovely boutonniere of violets which matched the same corsage she wore pinned to the front of her dress. It was a spur of the moment decision, as they had passed a flower seller on their way and picked matching flowers that had a very strong and important meaning “faithfulness”.

At this point, they both decided that society could look at them with judgmental glares and harsh whispers all they want, but nothing was going to stop this miraculous feeling of being in love. And if anyone did, Sara would happily get into a fisticuff with the person, as she strongly vowed to the pair. As much as she was very happy to see them together, it did make her feel a little left out, and her gaze fell to John, with a sense of longing that she never could allow herself to admit. It was hard not to see herself reflected in Evelina and her relationship with Laszlo, after all, it was what Sara had imagined being with John might be like.

But it was too late.

Tagging: @monsieurbruhl, @cazzyimagines @scuttle-buttle @violetmuses @flutterskies @sokoviandelights @rumblelibrary @fictionlandslanddreams @somethingthatsaysbubbles @alindeluce and @barnesxnobles

#the alienist #laszlo kreizler #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #fanfiction

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tuiyla · 2 years

Note

In the spirit of obsessing even more over Mine, I can’t help but parallel the parent/father lyrics in the song with what Santana sings in At The Ballet. Yes, I am absolutely reading too much into it, and am certain Glee probably did this by accident, but that’s two songs now where Santana paints a not-so-nice picture of her father in song. Then on top of that, we have:

Santana mentioning during Lights Out that her being a tomboy as a kid really pissed her Dad off.

The general impression that he’s an absent Father, given Santana seems to have spent a lot of time with her Abuela growing up.

The Pezberry bathroom scene in 5x13 where Rachel offers Santana the lead in 10 FG shows as a peace offering. She says something like “your Mom can come, or your Abuela.” Why not “your parents?” Rachel lived with Santana for months. Does she know something we don’t?

His absence from the wedding (definitely a casting issue, but also technically canon, so…)

I’m adding two and two together and coming up with twenty eight here, but that’s pretty much what all of us do when it comes to Glee, so I don’t care. The pieces kind of fit together to indicate quite a rocky childhood for Santana, and her Dad maybe being the cause of a lot of that? He clearly accepted her sexuality when she came out though, so I don’t think he was evil or anything. Just maybe a little careless, (to borrow from Taylor lol)?

Honestly, this isn’t even an ask I just ended up rambling haha. But if you have any thoughts on how Mine might relate to Santana’s family life at all (which I suspect you do), I’d enjoy reading them, as always.

Tumblr just deleted half my answer which... this hellsite underestimates my willingness to go on and on about Santana Lopez, I shall not be stopped. So here we go again!

Mr/Dr Lopez is an interesting case because Glee never cared to actually give him anything but there's much to speculate. I think, we had to choose, I'd read more in At the Ballet just on the basis of diegesis but at the same time there isn't a single second in the Mine scene I'm not obsessed with so of course we can also take that into consideration.

There's no reason we couldn't put two and two together and come up with twenty eight. Based on what canon gives us, Santana's relationship with her dad could easily be quite strained and distant. I think his absence from the wedding is something I can't quite, like, take at face value, just because his only(? lmao) daughter's wedding is such a huge thing to miss when even his homophobic mother was there and he's supposedly cool with the lesbian daughter thing. So I think just for me personally I'll elect to ignore the fact that he was nowhere to be seen the same way that I don't accept the absence of Quinn. We could make it work logically but every variation makes me sad lol.

When it comes to Mine, there are two bits that are relevant here: “careless man’s careful daughter”, of course, and this:

You learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes

I love this first line from a Brittana perspective (and the way Naya sings it, forever sobbing) but Brittana aside, “parents’ mistakes” implies a lot here. If we put it into the context of the implied cheating in At the Ballet and what Santana says right after singing Mine, there’s a case to be made here. Based on everything, it’s not wild to assume Dr. Lopez cheated on Maribel and they might still be married and technically together because that’s how they roll but not actually a couple anymore. I think Santana’s breakup speech substantiates that, what with her letting Brittany go only to prevent an even bigger heartbreak “when someone eventually cheats” - telling words here. And yes, we can also contextualize this within the episode because she’s talking about long-distance relationships here and possibly talking about the other two breakups but the Mine and At the Ballet lyrics both support this.

Not to turn this into a “Santana’s complicated relationship with the concept of cheating” post (which I’ll inevitably write anyway as soon as someone reminds me to) but her mature decision in Mine could easily be interpreted as a lesson she learned from her parents’ mistakes. So she breaks both her and Brittany’s hearts now in order to protect themselves from an even bigger potential pain in the future, perhaps one she experienced as a kid when Dr. Lopez cheated. Honestly this would just add yet another layer to the Mine scene which I already adore every second of. It fits with careless man’s careful daughter, too, because like you say maybe Dr. Lopez isn’t evil or anything but careless with how his actions affected his family and so Santana grew to become careful in the sense that she keeps her heart guarded. And affected her own attitudes towards cheating but, another post. I’ve also read interpretations where Mine is a narrative switcharoo and it’s actually referring to Brittany and Pierce, him being the careless man. But that’s just a btw and a whole other interpretation.

So the thing is, I fully went into this post wanting to say that there is a reading of Mine (and everything else) where Dr. Lopez cheated but stating that I personally choose not to look at it that way. But then I wrote all this down twice so now I’m like, maybe I convinced myself? Him being sorta distant but also trying and not actually a bad guy has always been reading of Dr. Lopez and even in the At the Ballet post I said that the cheating could just be an emotional truth rather than what actually happened. But now that you made me think about Mine I’m gonna run with yeah, he probably had an affair or two and it caused him to have a strained relationship with both Maribel and, inevitably, Santana. But I still maintain that in her young adult years/twenties they reconnect and find a way to make their dynamic work because Dr. Lopez might be a careless man in some ways but, and this really is just a HC, I think he’d learn to make an effort with his daughter. They stay together with Maribel and he as well as Alma do a lot of growing.

The main reason I believe he was fundamentally trying with Santana and would make an effort is because of, all things, IKAG (derogatory) and that one line about both of Santana’s parents being okay with her sexuality. It’s not much but after the implications of him having disliked her tomboy phase, I think it implies that he does actually accept her but has his own growing to do. But maybe that’s just me not wanting Santana to have much more baggage than she already does.

#like any self-respecting lesbian #santana has a complicated relationship with her father #that's a joke don't @ me peeps #mine gcv #continues to be THAT bitch #santana asks #lopez family #dr lopez #glee asks #amazonworrier #santanalysis

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shotofire · 3 years

Text

Number 9

Kageyama x F!Reader

Overview: You’re a student at Aobajosai high, and during a tournament a setter for the opposite team catches your eye

Warnings: Cursing

Season: 2

I got a request that said “Just give me some Kageyama” 🤣 So here it is anon, hope it meets your standards.

The sound of boys yelling and sneakers squeaking the floor can be heard from every point in the gymnasium. The stands were full of each teams supporters, letting out chants and shouting ‘nice kill’ every so often. Taking the floor now was your school, Aobajosai, and Karasuno. Volleyball wasn’t a sport you ever got into, but it was still entertaining to watch. Mizu, a good friend of yours, basically begged you to come here with her.

The girl has an obsession with Oikawa for whatever reason and feels the need to come to every single one of his games. He didn’t even talk to her all that much, and is kind of a stuck up jerk in your opinion. There’s no denying he’s a powerhouse when it comes to volleyball. “This whole thing decides if they go to nationals!” Mizu’s excited voice breaks you from your thoughts. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

You can only imagine how they feel down there, especially the third years. Some of the players look like they could pass out any second from pure adrenaline. Mizu made you stand at the bottom of the dozens of perfectly suitable chairs instead of sitting. She wanted to be able to make out Oikawa facial features, and hear his voice. Yep, she’s totally whipped.

“Is Karasuno any good?” Sure it was known that your school has a great team, but you’d never kept up with others. She only shrugs her shoulders at your question, eyes fixed on Oikawa as he starts to serve. Of course she didn’t know, all her attention was on one person every single match. “Did you see that serve?! It was amazing!” She jumps up and down with glee, jeez, shes down bad.

As time goes on it becomes apparent that Karasuno is in fact a good team. Better than just good, they’re incredibly talented and continue to surprise you. Every single boy has some sort of secret move that no one sees coming, it’s impressive. Number ten was lightening fast and your eyes have trouble keeping up with him. Then there’s number nine, obviously the setter, who has grabbed your attention as well. He’s kind of... cute.

He has this determined look on his face, and has been making some impressive plays. The boy seems to work pretty well with the small redhead, they even give each other goofy smiles whenever a great play is made. Deep down you wanted Karasuno to win, it seems like no one believes in them.

Number ten slams down and spike and you can’t help but cheer out. “We’re the blue and white team, you know that right?” Shit, you forgot Mizu was here. She was so in-depth looking at her dream boy that you’re surprised she even heard you. “Yeah but that was a killer spike, you gotta admit.” Her face turns into a frown and she huffs, “If you’re gonna cheer for the other team you can go to their side.” Was it really that deep?

Honestly you didn’t care where you stood, either way you’d probably still cheer for Karasuno. The team continues to surprise everyone and it’s crazy to witness. You’d heard someone call them the ‘wingless crows’ once when describing their volleyball team. These boys have definitely put that name six feet under. “Oh shit, they won!” You say and Mizu’s face is on the verge of tears.

“I can’t even imagine how my baby feels.” Yep, he’s totally her baby. “He did good, he’ll be okay.” It’s a bit heartless to say but it’s true. Oikawa gave all he had and scared the shit out of everyone with his spikes, but the crows are just too strong. They were underestimated and it caused your school’s team to loose. They may have lost but they sure didn’t fail, their fight kept up to the very end. It’s crazy to see the passion people can have for a sport.

“We have to go see the team!” Her voice was urgent as she grabs your wrist snd begins dragging you out of the stands and down the stairs. “Are you sure they’d want us in their business right after a loss?” It wouldn’t even change the matter if Mizu was actually dating Oikawa, the guy needs some space. “Well you can go do that, I need to use the restroom.” Really, you didn’t. But you didn’t want to see their annoyed expressions when your friend runs up on them with too much energy.

Number nine creeps his way into your mind. The guy was good, and showed so much passion. It’s enough to catch anyone’s eye. To put that much effort into something is so admirable, you wish you could care for something as much.

Right as you round the corner, you have no idea where you are going, you see him. Number nine. Him and his team are jumping on another with hugs and hard pats to the back. The boy looks happy, and once again.. so cute. Maybe I should talk to him, you shook your head at the thought. There’s no way he doesn’t have a girlfriend with that pretty face. Well if he did have a girlfriend wouldn’t she already be here congratulating him?

The voice in your head keeps telling you to take the chance. The worst he can do is turn you down, and then you’ll never see him again. You’ll never know if you don’t try. But him being surrounded by his teammates would be hard if you were to ask him for his information. It’s one thing to get rejected, but infront of a group of guys, that’s terrifying.

Should you just follow them and pray he separates from them at some point? Then if that doesn’t happen you’re going to have to suck it up and take the chance of being embarrassed. You trail behind the team as they shout and man handle one another, it’s weird how boys celebrate.

At this point you had no idea where you were, and would have to ask them for directions anyway. Then again they were most likely heading towards the exit. A different volleyball team, that you can’t name for your life, passes infront of you blocking your vision of the crow’s. What the hell? These guys nearly bumped into and didn’t say a word. All you got was a few winks, boys will be boys.

As they move from infront of you, he’s right there. beautiful number nine is leaned over drinking from the fountain while his team walks ahead of him. Shit this is your chance! You practically speed walk to him, not even caring if you look a bit crazy. As he stands up you’re right infront of him, and his eyes widen. Your presence scares him, then nerves grow in his stomach. Why is there a really pretty girl standing so close to me?

You didn’t mean to be so close, you were just determined to get to him before he could possibly walk away. “Hi,” is all you manage to say. Holy shit you look crazy right now, no doubt. “Hi?” He didn’t mean for it to come out rudely, but it definitely did. The boy is just confused is all. He watches the way your face falls a bit and immediately wants to slap himself. “S-Sorry, the tone was an accident.”

“You’re fine. I wanted to congratulate you on your win.” The air is a bit awkward and anxiety is radiating off the both of you. “Oh thank you.” It’s silent now, the awkwardness only intensifying. His team watches from afar, eyeballing you.

“I can remember any hot face, that girl was in the Aobajosai section!” Nishinoya says with a scrunched face. “A cute girl is a cute girl,” Tanaka shrugs. Hinata pushes through his friends so he can see better, and almost laughs at how tense his friend is standing. “Yeah but why is a cute girl talking to Kageyama?”

You take a deep breath and lean back on your feet. It really hadn’t occurred to you what you’d say beyond that, but you had to come up with something. “This may be a weird thing to ask, I don’t know cause i’ve never gone up to a guy like this. I also didn’t think about it as much as I should have-“ you abruptly stop, of course you just had to ramble. He didn’t know what to say, your beauty was intimidating but you can say the same about him.

“I’m y/n by the way, I should have said that first.” You hold out your hand for him to shake, and he takes it. His touch sends electricity through you, and makes your legs weak. One touch and you’re already going crazy, cute guys can be a curse sometimes. “Kageyama.”

You blush once you realize you’ve been holding his hand for way too long. “Sorry if this is weird to ask, but would you wanna, uh, maybe,” gosh you sound crazy, “meet up sometime?” Your immediate thought is he thinks you’re weird. Just now learned of his name and already asking to see him again. But this was your only chance, hopefully he understands that.

Kageyama chokes on the air a bit, totally not believing what’s happening. A pretty girl wants to hang out with him? Make time for him? Yep, this is a dream. He’ll be waking up any second now. His eyes are stuck on you, wide, and his mouth is slightly parted.

“Oh, nevermind. I’m sorry.” He’d been in his head too deep instead of answering your question. Pure embarrassment is on your face. “No, No! I’m sorry, I was just, uh,” he takes a deep breath and puts on a smile, “yes, i’d like to do that sometime.” There’s a huge smile on your face as you pull your phone out, “Well here, put your number in my phone.”

The team nearly yells when they see you hand Kageyama your phone. “I bet he’s giving her his number!” Sugawara says with a smirk on his lips. As soon as Kageyama tells you his goodbyes, he sees his friends nearly jumping up and down. “Did you give her your digits?!” Hinata yells, and you can hear it from where you stand.

A blush creeps onto the setters face, but tries to hide it with an annoyed look. “Mind your business,” is all he says. The boys ruffle at his hair and push him around a bit, making kissy noises all the way to the bus. It doesn’t let up until a few minutes into the ride when everyone’s knocked out. Kageyama’s phone vibrates in his pocket, waking him from his half-asleep state.

Hey, it’s y/n

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witching-hour · 3 years

Text

S(andwiche)s and Giggles [Juice Ortiz x Reader]

REQUESTED BY @aimkatsz Hey! I just found your blog and I love your writing! Can I make a request for Juice in which the reader and him are great friends and the reader has a crush on him but he is oblivious to it. The reader decides to tell him in a very cute way. Can it have a fluffy ending please! Thank you!

(A/N): i’m so sorry this took so long to post. hope you enjoy, hun! this being my first juice request, i hope i did him justice and wrote him well! feedback and commentary is always welcome babes

SUMMARY: the classic trope of best friends liking each other but one party being oblivious hits the relationship of juice and the reader

TW: none

“COME IN,” you heard, muffled, from behind the door. At the sound of his voice, the corner of her lips curved upwards into a small smile. Your fisted hand lowered from the wood paneling with a reaper carved in the center to the dark brass knob, twisting it to open the door to your favorite Son’s dorm room.

He was seated at his desk with his laptop open, just like Jax told you he would be. The computer-savvy patch was given a task for the club and you knew that he would not be leaving his room for hours, and instead glued to the screen. Your best friend had the habit of getting sucked into his own little world when he was by himself for long periods of time. But that world he would get drawn into was not something that was seen as a good thing.

When you first met Juice when he moved to the small town of Charming from the big city of New York and became a prospect sponsored by Jax, he always wore that goofy little boyish smile on his face. He still does, but behind that smile you learned was a dark void in the back of his mind built from childhood trauma of depression and anxiety. The closer you got to the Puerto Rican, the more you learned about him and his family (or lack thereof), and it broke your heart. The only real family he ever had was the one he made in Charming – with the Sons of Anarchy, with Gemma, and with you.

He wasn’t good alone.

So, you never let him be alone.

You reminded him every day of it. You would always be there.

When the guys told you what Juice was up to, you made some sandwiches out of what was left in the fridge in the Clubhouse kitchen before you wrapped them in some paper towels and headed upstairs to the dorms.

He swiveled around in his chair to see who came in, his face lighting up at the sight of you kicking the door shut behind you as you waved a sandwich in each hand. “Hey, (Y/N)!”

“Heard you were cooped up in here,” You crossed the room, perching yourself on the edge of his desk, handing him one of the sandwiches wrapped up in paper towels, “Figured you hadn’t eaten today yet. And, no, Bobby’s pot muffins don’t count.”

“They were blueberry.”

You rolled your eyes, “OK, Juan.”

He smiled innocently at you as he chewed on the sandwich, making you snort in amusement, which made you both burst out into laughter.

A few beats of silence ticked by as you both shared humored smiles and ate together in peace. As you finished chewing, you cleared your throat catching the boy’s attention, completely enamored by your presence, “So,” you got out while still chewing away at the bread, “am I allowed to know what top secret thing Clay’s got you doing?”

He gestured to the screen, scooting his chair to the side so you could peak over.

“It’s a binary search algorithm…” As soon as he started using computer science terms you checked out and decided to finish your snack while you just watched him ramble. The way his eyes sparkled when they met the glare from the screen. Or the way his jaw ticked when his mouth would close. Or the way the golden rings complimented his skin tone as he would point at something with those long fingers of his. Or the way his shirt would rise up ever so slightly when he hunched over, giving you a teasing look at the grey boxers peeking from above where his jeans rested on his hips. Or the way his muscles would move under his tight white t-shirt.

Every part of him made you fall into a daze.

He called your name one, two, three times before you finally snapped out of whatever trance you were in.

“Hmm?” You blinked a few times as you tried to remember the last thing he said.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, amused that you toned out his ‘geek talk’ as you liked to call it, yet completely oblivious to the longing looks you were sending his way. “You didn’t get any of that, did you?”

“No habla inglés?”

“You’re hilarious, (Y/N).”

“And you’re adorable, Juicey.”

“I’m pretty sure you are the adorable one here,” He shook his head with a wide grin on his face, one of his hands reaching out to poke you in the side, making you squirm.

“Juan Carlos,” You warned as he jabbed your other side, making you jolt, “don’t you dare.”

In a split second, the Son had you pinned against the desk as his fingers attacked your most sensitive spots, tickling your sides, stomach, and right under your neck. It started with you giggling and trying to push him off, and he would back off to give you a minute to catch your breath before he would dive back in to torture you. Then when he started not letting up, you got away to the other side of the room still laughing as he chased you. You were sure everyone downstairs knew it was you two screwing around, but they would probably take that term literally since they always teased the friendship between their youngest member and Gemma’s latest prodigy.

(Half-Sac was pouring a round of shots for Gemma and the club as money and hollers were passed around, obviously them not realizing what was actually going on up there).

Juice’s hand almost clasped around your wrist, but you slipped through his grip and tried to hop over the bed. Both your laughs filled the room as you tripped with one leg still across the mattress and the other flat on the floor. While you were tripped up, Juice caught you by the waist and slammed you on the bed with both his arms encasing you.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” You wheezed out, trying to hit him and block his hands. He nipped at your neck to get you to lose your focus on blocking his attack on your tummy. You gasped out in shock before you were consumed with laughter just straight up cackles at this point once more.

“Surrender!”

“Hell no – Juice!”

“Beg for mercy.”

“No!”

“Da-,“ you broke out in between each laugh, “-mn. It. Juan-“

“Okay! Okay! St-o-p! You’re gonna make me piss myself.”

He chuckled once more before finally moving his hands away from you, allowing you to smack his chest as he let out a “oomf” noise. You adjusted yourself on the bed by laying your stomach as Juice moved onto his back.

“You alright?” His smile morphed into a look of concern. Juice, always the sweetheart. It was one of the main reasons why you fell for him. Besides how much of a softie he was, he was also such a goofball, and fiercly protective when he felt the people he cared about was threatened. (You’ve only ever been a situation like that once because of your relations to the club; nothing too serious, but Juice became more protective of you after that).

He was someone you could play video games wiith. He was someone who’d give you his sweatshirt when you were cold, or when he didn’t have one and just bring you into a bear hug instead for natural body heat. And, man, did he give the best hugs.

You chuckled, “Yeah, I’m good.” You pressed your face into the blanket under you, mumbling, “You’re lucky I like you.”

He gave you an odd look. “What was that?” The patch’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion, sitting up while still keeping his eyes on you. Did he hear you right?

You sent him a confused look right back. What? Then it registered what you said. Out loud. Oh fuck me. And internal panic set in.

Plan B. Plan B. Plan B. Plan B.

Play stupid.

“What was what?”

“You said you like me?” His response sounded more like a question, either ensure thats what he heard or did hear you but was confused by what you meant.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“See!” You exclaimed with your hands thrown in the air.

“What? No! I-”

“Yeah!” You called out loudly, knowing playing stupid wasn’t helping your situation. “Coming Chibs!”

“Chibs didn’t call for you,” the boy shook his head, grabbing you by your waist before you got off the bed, keeping you pinned down by his lower half practically covering yours.

Despite him pining you to his bed, you still attemted to escape this situation as fight-or-flight mode kicked in. “You sure? Because I’m pretty sure-”

“Cut the bullshit.”

Well, damn. Ok, daddy. When did he get like this and where could you sign up for more of it?

The dead serious expression slowly turned into a “please-tell-me-the-truth” look with his puppy dog eyes that turned your heart to mush. “You like me?”

You chewed on the inside of your lip as you debated your answer. You already slipped up, might as well come clean since their is no way you’re getting out of this one. And if even by chance you would be able to escape the dorm, you would be faced with Detective Gemma and her hounds in leather. You finally answered with a meek, “yeah.”

Juice busts out in the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on his face, which makes you about as confused as he is half the time with the club and their teasing. He moves one of the hands he has flat on the bed to hold up his weight down to stoke the line of your jaw. You try to analyze his face for any hint to what he’s thinking but you’re drawing blanks due to that stupid, blinding smile he’s wearing.

“Can I kiss you?”

If you were eating or drinking anything, you would have surely choked. You were surprised you didn’t choke on air alone over his question. Your eyes widening must have given away your shock because his face fell and he backed off of you.

“I’m sorry. I thought-”

And before either of you could grasp what was happening, your hands shot out to clutch onto the lapels of his kutte and yank him forward, your lips clashing together. The kiss was shorter and not as deep as you wanted but it satisfied you that you were able to get the short and sweet one. You loosened your grip on his kutte, allowing him to pull back slightly. When his gaze met yours, you offered an innocent, bashful, curled-in lip smile.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do that,” you admitted, breaking the silence that had consumed the room.

“Not as much as me,” he quipped, running a hand over his faux mohawk.

“Mmm,” you shook your head, “I don’t think so, Juicey.”

“Want me to show you?”

“Yes please.”

SOA TAG LIST: @cutekittylexie @talicat713 @woahitslucyylu @xx--day-dreamer--xx @sweetpeaflower01 @rebelwrites

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