#and thanks for being patient with me taking a wee while to answer

[philcoulsonismyhero]

Hey! I'm really excited that there are two butch characters in Red Shift Blue Shift, what are their relationships to each other and to the larger lesbian communities around them? Also, are there any trans women or transfeminine nonbinary characters in the cast, or in your other projects? (I tried sending an ask to the comic blog, but I couldn't find the option.)

Hey! (Turns out we hadn't switched asks on for the comic blog, thanks for pointing that out, the option should be there now!)

Oh I'm so glad you're excited about there being multiple butch characters in RSBS, that was something that was really important to us to include when we were building our cast. I'm very fond of them both, they're a great time.

It's hard to say too much about their relationship to each other without getting into spoiler territory, but Kamari is something of a wildcard character. She's working for a cause of her own, something that's sometimes at cross-purposes to the main team, which Georgie is part of, so there's a bit of plot-relevant antagonism there, at least in a big picture sense. It takes a wee while before Kamari interacts directly with any of the main team, although she'll be hanging around the edges of their activities and playing a major role in the other main thread of the story. Georgie and Kamari will end up connected eventually, although how is spoilers, but I can say that they're one of the (many, many) pairs of narrative foils in the comic. The story is going to be split into two major threads, the blue thread following Dan and their team, and the red thread following our masked antagonist and their allies, and Georgie and Kamari are one pair of characters that in some ways mirror each other across that divide and end up having an impact on each other over time as the story unfolds.

Which kind of links in to the next part of your question - Kamari, at the point we find her in the story, is quite isolated from anything really in the way of broader community. She did have that, once, and she doesn't anymore, and the story there is a big part of her character, along with where she ends up going from there. Georgie, on the other hand, is probably the most social of the main team, barring maybe Max. When she's not out on missions, she's a regular in her local queer community, especially the lesbian bars, and she's got at least a few amicable exes in that community and amongst her law school cohort. She's a gregarious, friendly sort of person, and the sort that tends to adopt any young queer people in her vicinity, so aboard the team's ship she's definitely something of a Cool Queer Aunt.

Speaking of Max, I'm not sure transfem is the term ey'd personally use, but ey're definitely the cast member with the most fem elements to their particular flavour of nonbinary. Gender presentation is something fun to em, and ey're pulling from a bunch of different directions when it comes to eir personal style.

As for the rest of the cast, we're still building out from our main ten, but the intention is absolutely to include trans women and transfem folks, both human and robot. Now's probably the point to admit that our jokey working title for the comic is 'Butches In Space', because it is a bit of a self-indulgent exercise in including all the butch and transmasc and agender characters that we almost never get to see (and especially don't get to see interacting with each other). Ultimately you've got to do what appeals to you, personally, with a project, but that doesn't mean that we're not going to make sure that the rest of the world of RSBS is suitably full of all different kinds of folks. Obviously it's really important to include transfem folks in a story that's using a lot of transphobia metaphors, since they're unfortunately one of the groups that's targeted the most. There's a lot of significant secondary characters that we've still only got rough sketches of roles for, like assorted family members and other agents and various folks relevant to different cases, and I'm sure a bunch of them will and up being transfem once we get to know them better. We're planning on having a lot of fun with gender stuff amongst both the humans and the robots.

Also, one last fun note about Kamari and Georgie - there aren't going to be any active romance plots in the comic, it's going to be a very aro sort of story, but like I mentioned above re: Georgie's various exes that doesn't mean that the characters that aren't aro don't have relationships in their pasts. Without spoiling Kamari's deal, I will say that Pearl from SU was one of the characters that partly inspired her, so read into that what you will. And, in the course of the main story, Georgie and Kamari's dynamic when they do end up face to face might be the closest we get to writing flirting. We thought it would be fun to leave a little bit of room for shipping, if a hypothetical reader is that way inclined, even if the main story isn't going to feature any romance arcs and will be more focused on the platonic side of their dynamic. And it was something of a deliberate choice to have the only canon-compatible ship amongst the main cast be a lesbian one, since fandom is after all a bit notorious for ignoring them.

#thanks so much for the questions!! #and thanks for being patient with me taking a wee while to answer #red shift blue shift #asked and answered #personal stuff

[aconflagrationofmyown]

Patch It Up Baby

A Sarge and lil Mama fic

Summary: It’s 1977 and Jesse Presley has never loved his family more or had more chances to prove it. When America’s last dynasty implodes, it‘s up to the Presley heir to mend and rebuild what’s left. His first and least glamorous commission is to take his little sister Daisy Mae to rehab in Texas after she embraced their daddy’s rock n’ roll lifestyle a little too thoroughly. In the great game-plan of getting mama and daddy back together, keeping up appearances and bolstering up his siblings’ spirits, what Jesse doesn’t expect is Donna. Just…Donna.

Warnings: mentions of past hard drug use, mentions of withdrawls, a brief but recounted callous comment encouraging death, children dealing with parent’s divorce, publicity of said divorce, paparazzi stalking, a panic attack, Jesse being a bit hardcore like his father to a stalker and mentions of his previous violence, brief sexual scene and occasional mentions of sex.

My thanks to all the dears who helped me so much with this, who added their lines to this and aided in the plot, @prompted-wordsmith @elvisabutler @stylespresleyhearted @ab4eva @butlersxbirdy @eliseinmemphis to mention a wee few

NOTE: In this chapter the baby that is referenced as growing inside Elaine was conceived during Elvis and Elaine’s divorce, and ends up being Danny. Jesse refers to his upcoming sibling as a “last” and “surprise” baby, which he was. However he was neither the last nor the only surprise for Elaine and Elvis. Danny came and a few years later was followed by Shiloh. So uh, that means better times must be around the bend, right? But of course, Jesse wouldn’t know that. ;)

2nd Generation Refresher: as this is out of order and missing many key pieces, I understand it may not make perfect sense yet but I hope y’all enjoy getting a glimpse into the family later on. You’ll meet Elvis and Elaine over the phone and the older kids as they grow into their maturity. Everyone is a bit spread out in their different pursuits in this one compared to the last one shot when it was all young, familial domestic chaos, but there’s little updates in here I think y’all will enjoy. Xoxo

Jesse’s long and ringed forefinger pecks peevishly at the Rehab Center’s grimy rotary dial. He waits for the phone connection to be made with studied nonchalance, leaning casually against the bleach white wall in a tiny alcove, checking like a studied dandy for dirt under his nails. It’s a photogenic sorta lean, one boot crossed over the other and bell bottoms flaring in a way that naturally carries the eye to the belt buckle at his tapered waist.

Daddy taught him well enough how to cut a figure, and daddy was the reason why Jesse had any need to pretend nonchalance when calling home.

Home, he wants to scoff.

Not Graceland while this fiasco lasted.

Graceland was too storied and way too watched. Home was Palm Springs and warm weather and privacy to figure out what the hell the rest of them were gonna do with their lives and if mama and daddy could still make it. Together.

Home, where mama could cook this last little one that precious few in the outside world knew was coming, home where daddy could eat crow and stay sober.

Jesse’s teeth ache from the way he grinds them in his stress, he rubs at his cheek and wills the tenseness away, if he answered with clenched teeth mama would be able to tell. And mama would worry. And mama had done enough worrying to nearly cost her her life.

“Hello?” came through the receiver.

Jesse felt guilty for one brief second at his immense relief that she’d been the one to answer, not daddy, but then a flood of very legitimate grievances against one Elvis Presley came flooding in and he shrugged it off. “Hey mama.” he kept his voice down but he couldn’t help the smile that lifted his tone at just hearing her sound so soft and rested. “How’re you doin’?” he ventured, keeping an eye at the nurses and patients passing nearby, always aware of potential eavesdroppers.

“I’m good baby, I’m real good, how’re you holdin’ up?”

Jesse listens for any trace of a fib in her tone but for once she doesn’t sound strained when she says she’s good. He’ll take it that physically she must be finally good for the first time this whole pregnancy. “Thas good.” he whispers, cupping the receiver closer, “He takin’ care of you, mama? He’s being gentle a-and he’s -he bein’ respectful?”

Of her space and her nerves and her whole taken for granted self. He’s picked a cuticle till it’s bleeding on him, wincing he sticks it into his mouth, full lips curling around it, something his mama gave him in a face strikingly similar to his father’s. The scowl he sends at a lurking relation of some inmate in this druggie bedlam is entirely his father’s and he’s grateful for that one singular legacy. It’s come in real handy as folks come up to him and pepper him with questions on the football field like:

-is your dad strung out on coke or heroin these days? is it true what happened to your sister, man? did your daddy force himself or is your mama so pathetic she couldn’t say no to a man she was divorcin? got anythin’ I can trade off ya, Presley?-

Benign, regular family questions. Sorta questions most 20 year olds have gotta answer, for sure. He sucks harder and tastes copper round his finger.

“Oh yes. Really darling, I’m fine. We’re fine, in fact.” Mama’s talking again. That’s a bold statement. To refer to them as “we” and to say they’re fine. She’s not mean enough to lie to him now, not now it’s all crashed and crumbled and they’re trying to pick up the pieces together. His little cupcake world of happy families is sorta shot to hell by this point, anyways. Least Mama can do is be truthful about it, and learning from his daddy’s mistakes, Jesse chooses to believe her when she says she’s well.

That they’re good.

“Ok, good.” he breathes for what he realizes must be the first time in awhile, his fingers are numb and his lips feel tingly, he’s gotta stop doing that, he’s gonna pass out one day, he can feel it. “The baby?”

“Fine. We’re all fine, Butnin, I asked how you were.” she reminds him gently.

“I’m fine, mama.” he is, now that he’s back to breathing. Breathing is good for one’s health. He’s gonna keep it up. “Daisy is settling in alright, too.” he beats Mama to the question, glossing over some of the more queasy aspects of heroin rehabilitation. “T-the nurse here, uh, D-Donna, she uh, she said we oughta be over the worst of it. The uh, initial withdrawls and such.”

“Was it bad, Jesse?” poor mama, how’d it come to this that she has to ask it.

“Yeah, fairly.” he admits, recalling his baby sister’s foaming mouth and dilated eyes and seizing throat. Holding her as she scratched at herself like a maniac, forced her to tear at him instead. Donna, the nurse, has got him fixed up with plasters all up and down his forearms and hands. “But that part’s worn off.” he assumes mama knows what he means, if she hasn’t dealt with it directly with daddy she at least knows of it, even if his were all prescribed. “She’s just real sleepy now. Sleeps all day and most the night. I try to keep her talking and singing and playing stuff so, uh, so that she’s tired, ya know? So she’ll sleep heavy. She’ll get better quicker. That’s what Donna says, the more she sleeps the faster she’ll detox.”

“My sweet boy.” Mama murmurs and that’s compensation enough for how little sleep he’s gotten this past week and everything else.

“Happy to do it.” he mumbles, and he means it.

“I know,” she answers earnestly, “and we’re grateful.” they both let that lie and after a minute she speaks up again, a saucy undercurrent to her tone that throws him for a loop. It's been such ages since he heard it: “So, this Donna, you’ve mentioned her last time and before that, too. Is she an experienced nurse, dear?”

Jesse groans into his hand only to realize it’s amplifying the sound through the speaker. In his loneliness here he may have forgotten how obvious it is that he’s latched on like a limpet to the one genuine human who’ll give him something besides canned answers when his sister aspirates on her own spit in the bathroom floor.

“I-I-I lost one sister this way already.” he’d gasped to sweet little Donna and her baby cheeked self as they peeled Daisy off the floor and got her on a stretcher, “Jo, Jo died from this.”

Not a drug withdrawal, of course. Jo had drowned inside mama. But still.

-Aspirating.

It held a bizarre terror for him, that fancy word, his whole childhood and the whole nine months of waiting for Marie to come out healthy. He’d never forget asking his daddy one day at table how they could be sure this new baby wouldn’t drown, too. Daddy had gotten so angry before bursting into tears at the head of the table. Nobody had ever seen anything like it before or since. All that grief just stored up, and him scared as any of them for a repeat and no kid’s tactless inquiry and it all surface. “We don’t know.” Mama had said and daddy cut her off harshly, “No, Elaine!” he’d near yelled, “No, don’t even say it. This one’s gonna live, I'm demandin’ it.” Mama had bit her lip and replied softly, “Then we’d better start praying so.”

And that’s what they did every night for eight months, Daddy led them all in laying their hands on mama's growing belly and prayed and prayed until Marie came screaming into the world with clear lungs. And so Jesse got himself on the floor and beat at Daisy’s back while praying and Donna did it too, right with him.

“Uh, Donna’s pretty young but she’s capable.” he answers mama’s question.

“How old?” there’s nothing sly in her tone now, just genuine concern for the quality of her daughter’s care takers.

“She’s nineteen, mama,” Jesse admits with a wince, “she’s my age.”

“Ah.” and a long pause follows.

“There’s others too, but she’s the most eager, most -caring.”

“That’s good. Thank God he sent someone for y’all. I knew He would.”

“Yeah, she’s, she’s real sweet mama.” he assures.

“Oh is she?” there’s a smirk in her tone now.

“Nineteen and sweet.” that’s daddy’s voice coming through the phone from a distance and Jesse starts to stiffen. “Does this Donna happen to be pretty, too, son?”

Jesse is back to grinding his teeth and it sends a spark of pain up to his temple.

“Elvis!” His mama honest to god titters and it’s been such a while since Jesse heard that sound he suddenly feels like forgiving his daddy a few things just for that. Just for bringing that back. It makes his eyes sting.

Donna has hair the color of mamas but with a touch more red in it and it curls and fans in such a messy and unstudied way as to remind him of an artist, all while smashed beneath a nurse's cap. And her smile is sunshine incarnate and her eyes are as blue as his and her lips as plump as strawberries and she’s the first person he feels like he can trust in ages. Not that he’s trusted her with much besides showing he’s at the end of his rope with exhaustion and emotion. But she never missed a beat.

“I-I-I don’t mean to keep mentioning her it’s just-“ he bites his lip harshly before deciding to be frank, “it’s hard to trust anyone. Even here everyone is gossiping about us, they think I can’t hear ‘em but I do and it’s all the time and I ain’t going up to one of those tongue wags and asking them to help Daisy when she’s that vulnerable. I just can’t. So -so it’s Donna.” he explains.

It’s dead silent on the other end for a length of time that oughta be uncomfortable but instead it soothes something in Jesse’s soul to think that he got his point across enough to shut his smartass father up for a whole minute.

“I’m sorry this is so damn hard for you, son,” it comes in a deep rumble and bitter as he is, Jesse feels his hands sweat and his cheeks too, or else that sting has overflowed and he’s crying. In public. “I’m sorry you’re havin’ to pay for my sins.”

“I-I-I’m just glad you’re back.” he croaks and looks about the place frantically to make sure he’s unobserved.

It had been so good that day daddy walked through the threshold at Graceland looking twenty pounds lighter and stone cold sober, there to sort out his children, there to intervene for Daisy. The day mama’s body gave out on her and she puddled like so much water on Graceland’s foyer floor, as if her body trusted Elvis to take care of her family even if her mind wasn’t sure he’d forgiven her for the divorce. Daddy had been perfect that day, picked mama up like a baby and took her to the hospital, made press statements like a ordinary human sayin simply that he’d “jacked it all up and was here to make amends.”

Mama and him tucked off to California to grow that baby that made her faint and Jesse was charged with Daisy and bringing her here to Dallas. It had felt like old times, Sergeant Presley and all that famous stage presence ordering them all to battle stations.

It wasn’t till later that Jesse wondered how the hell the man had the gall to show up and demand respect. Turns out mama had kept that fire going bright enough all the kids just fell in line like nothing had ever been askew. Jesse wonders if now he can go back to being nineteen again. He’s a little scared to hope. That’s the worst of it, he’s not bitter, he’s scared.

Twenty year olds have futures with little nurses named Donna. For now Jesse is not a normal almost-twenty year old.

“I’m glad you’re back.” he repeats to his daddy, “Please…stay…back.”

It’s what he begs Daisy when she tries to bribe him to sneak her illegal shit next morning.

“Enough of that, you’re nearly sober and you’re gonna stay sober. Please stay good, f’me! Please.” he begs and weedles until her big blue eyes go from watery to scornful and she has fun at his pathetic expense but Jesse doesn’t mind. It gives her something to do, teasing him for being a blubbering softy over her. It distracts her. It assures Daisy she’s wanted, that somebody -more than one in fact- would be devastated if she didn’t win this fight.

She’s become a skeleton as the detox racks her. Hospital food tasting bad on a good appetite, it’s ever worse on a poor one and Jesse tears out clumps of his now shaggy black hair in desperation to have her stay nourished. He’s not supposed to be sleeping there overnight but Donna fibs for him. He’s not supposed to sneak shit into the clinic but Donna takes him back to her house, lets him use her stove to cook pancakes -Daisy’s favorite- and helps him smuggle them in under his leather jacket. All for the price of a motorcycle ride.

Jesse’s belly burned for nights after where her little hands had overlocked to hold onto him during the ride, burning him and cooking his guts hot and wanting even beneath the leather and the layers.

“Donna’s got the same spatulas you use, mama.” He’s reporting by the third week.

“The baby’s the size of an cantelope.” she reports back.

“What’ve y’all been doin?” he tries to make conversation and even to his own ears he sounds suspicious. When did he start to sound like Jack? How much more could daddy possibly screw this up? Knock his ex-wife up doubly? Like a cat? Jesse snorts and covers with a cough.

“Talkin’ mostly, floatin in the pool.” he can hear her shrug from here, “It’s terribly hot.”

“Mmm.” he sympathizes.

“We got a marriage license yesterday.” Daddy pipes up and Jesse lets out a stifled sob of relief. The gang is back together, it would seem.

“Cool.” he rasps before Donna passes and then approaches in concern for his blotchy face.

“You ok?” she asks gently.

“Yeah, yeah fine,” Jesse scrambles, “hay fever. Killer.”

“Who’s that, Butnin?” mama asks.

“Uh, umm nobo-“

“Is that Donna?” she guesses and he winces for the umpteenth time at this damn phone.

“Mamaaaa.” he begs.

“Can I talk to her? Please, please!” she begs in turn.

“Mama no!” Jesse pleads right back and Donna backs away with that keen sense of intruding while unable to suppress her fond smile at this cute, boyish side to such a burdened young man.

By week four Donna and him have taken to walking Daisy along the corridors, getting her strength back and making her move, her always lanky frame a featherweight between them now. They all share a laugh at how Daisy towers over Donna’s tiny self, has to hunch to use the petite nurse’s shoulder while Jesse’s height makes her strain to reach. They can use a laugh, the stares they get as Daisy’s famous face gets hauled past in pajamas and socks makes Jesse lose all appetite afterwards, his fingers going cold and his lips numb. He’d like to punch something but everything here is breakable, his sister and his family’s reputation, most of all.

It’s not fair to her and it’s more work for her but this loss of appetite worries Donna and by the end of their long day’s shift they’re together again as she force feeds Jesse tacos from a nearby stand, as they walk around the old part of the city and inadvertently become friends. He may have sucked some mango salsa from her fingers, but neither of them mention it. Too busy watching the others' faces as the sun dies out and eventually he drives her home, her body tucked behind his on his bike, wind whipping her hair that’s escaped his offered helmet.

By the fifth night of this routine he steals a kiss. It’s not hard fought, she leans into him eagerly and for the first time in his life there’s nothing about conquest in the act for him, it’s just…nice. So nice he tries it the next night while they’re sat on his bike, parked by a dance hall. It’s less nice and more like licking fire this time, suddenly his sweet intentions for her are a burning mass of need and that night Jesse goes back to his dinky motel alone and engages in wasteful practices in the shower. Donna had asked where he was staying and when he told her she’d been aghast.

“I just prefer something more -normal.” he’d said.

“Sure but -but that place is dangerous, Jesse.” she’d been so concerned for him and he gobbled it up like a starved man. “Normal folks don’t stay there even.”

“Maybe I’m not normal.” he’d quipped and Donna thought about his mother and her mafia connections, the ones with the dirt that sank Colonel Parker during the divorce, she thought of the bike clubs that Jesse is seen frequenting in the magazines, she thinks about how far the Presley’s might go to reconnect with normal folks -she holds her tongue. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, lil, I can handle myself.” he’d assured her as he thumbed out her frown.

“I know.” Donna had replied, “I mean, I’ve read about how you handle yourself.” and she’d run an admiring hand down his bicep before kissing him again.

That was another thing he liked about Donna, she didn’t play stupid about his family and she also didn’t pry. She’d read about him and Jack bustin’ those guys asses for what they did to Rosalee and she mentioned it. And left it at that. Jesse liked that maybe most of all. He also liked how everything he’d trusted her with never got related by anyone else. No nursing staff gossip or a sweet insider tip for a newspaper. Donna took his trust and tucked it tight inside her chest, right in that tender heart of her’s. He liked that about her, right next to her sweet smile and her warm nature and the feel of her breasts smashed to his back on a long ride.

“You’re in love.” Daisy goaded him the next day as she scribbled in the journal he had gotten her. They encouraged writing here and Daisy’s material had gradually shifted from juvenile doodles and giant block letters proclaiming “JESSE IS AN ASSHOLE” to something that looked alarmingly like stanzas as he snooped over the top of the pages.

Jesse colored brightly at her goad and adamantly refuted it. “That’s the drugs talkin’.” he joked.

“So you’re just passin’ time with her.”

“I-I-I dunno, Daisy.” he spluttered, “It’s not exactly hoppin’ here when you’re out cold. Can only call mama so many times a day. Gotta talk to someone.”

“Does mama hate me?” she asked suddenly and he stopped cold in the middle of tuning her guitar to stare at her dumbly. “I mean -I deserve it I just…”

“No she don’t hate you!” he found his voice, “Don’t be an idiot. That self pityin’ mope don’t help the beauty of those dark circles none. She’s just wore out.”

“I wore her out.”

“Mm well, we all had a hand.” Jesse fudges.

“Ella told me to just get on with dyin.” she reveals, and Jesse puts his pick down for good this time, taking a deep breath and trying to listen coolly. “When mama was taken to the hospital and layin’ there unresponsive, Ella said I’d brought her to that, said if I was so intent on killin’ myself that I should get on with it and spare mama the suspense.”

“Well,” Jesse tries for a moderate tone, “that was a shitty thing to say.” he concedes, “And you -don’t pay Ella no attention. She’s worried and scared to death half times that Johnny won’t come back from ‘Nam. And now she’s takin’ care of Marie on top of her own baby. She’s just a little vinegary, thas all, pregnancy hormones. Took it out on you.”

“I think she’s scared the guy she married in such a rush is gonna come back.” Daisy growled. She crossed out a line angrily and Jesse was really starting to worry about those scribbles.

Jesse let her finish before he asked, “Why’s that?” It’s not like he got much thinking done lately between the court hearings and getting his head knocked about on the turf.

“She don’t love him.” Daisy rolled her eyes heavenward in an action that mama would have looked on with annoyance. Jesse glared at Daisy in her stead.

“People love in different ways, Daisy.” he sighed even as he had no bullets to fight her argument, Ella had left in uncharacteristically rash fashion, seemingly unable to take the atmosphere at home anymore. “And she says John’s a good man.”

“All that means is he don’t beat her.” Daisy snarked.

“Well, that’s a step towards romance.” Jesse joked back and they let the subject lie.

Each day Daisy gets stronger and writes more and more in that little book. Not that Jesse sees her at it most times, it’s just the pen she wedges in to keep her place gets closer and closer to the middle, and then towards the back. Snooping isn’t an option but he imagines they’ve got a lotta heartbreak on those pages, maybe bled out like lyrics.

Now days he makes the walk with her without Nurse Donna, and it’s both sad and a victory in one. Now that she’s strong enough to notice the stares Daisy takes delight in feebly flipping off her voyeurs and that’s a fight Jesse doesn't have it in him to win. If it makes her grin, he allows it, that stupid, crooked little boy grin that his daddy plopped right onto a young girl’s face. She’s perfect, she’s perfect and getting healthy and the stares don’t matter much. Not till he hears a voice he’s become very attuned to, snap at some idling nurses:

“Haven’t you got any work to do?”

And his head spins like a top on his neck and sure enough, that was Donna, temper snapping for what might be the first time in her sweet life, and Jesse feels his tingly gratitude down to his very toes.

“She’s alright, that one.” Daisy smirks beside him and little does he know her enthusiasm stems partly from last night when Daisy gave a little sisterly admonition to Miss Donna that her brother liked her and if she didn’t treat his soft heart gentle like, then Daisy was gonna unstring her guitar and end her with a metal cord.

“How ya doin, mama?” he asks her on a Tuesday and even to himself his voice sounds better. He may be far more tired than he was when he first came in here but his relief at Daisy’s progress colors his tone in hope.

“Doing good Butnin, real good.” she sounds good alright, more than good and Jesse uncurls his fist and let’s himself relax a little as he gives his daily report on Daisy. And Donna.

“Rosalee told me she’s gonna pop in and see y’all.” Mama informs him.

“Good time for it,” Jesse hums, “Mae Mae’s better enough to chat but she could use the encouragement.”

“I bet.” Mama sounds sad again. That won’t do.

Jesse lip curls up in mischief as he asks next, “Jack been by to see ya?” he inquires about that little sea creature hybrid he’s been missing and must call brother, “Brought any dolphins home to meet ya yet?”

“Oh Jesse! Stop!” she laughs a sweet peal of laughter and Jesse smugly twirls the phone cord round and round at his success, “He’s coming to dinner tonight, he has been too caught up before, he’s been out on the ocean for six weeks! I’m scared to see the state of his skin!”

“Welllll,” Jesse drawls, “No way the sun could burn that dimple off so, he’ll be fine.”

“He actually saved someone’s life, uh, day before yesterday.” Daddy’s voice rumbles through the receiver and Jesse’s eyes roll backwards a little at the way he’s never caught his parents separate on this trip, not even once. He can picture the patio phone and its loungers and its umbrellas right now, and imagines that daddy is probably cradling mama’s belly like he can push that magic healing through the skin and make that baby the healthiest infant California’s ever seen.

“Did he now?” Jesse admires, “Makin’ us proud, ain’t he?”

“Yeah, hauled someone who’d been adrift for ages, right up into his boat.” Daddy elaborates without a hint of mockery in his proud tone and Jesse smiles to himself.

“Bout time he put those muscles to use, s’not like he uses them when carrying snails around.” he teases back because having a serious and admiring conversations about Jackson might be a step too far in the healing process. Not this early, mama resting and then getting remarried and cooking a baby is plenty for the plate. Conceding that Jack isn’t a walking disaster is a little too much too soon. Heroics aside.

By week six at the Center they’re into behavioral shit and Jesse can freely admit this isn't the Presley family’s strong suit, but he’s gotta hand it to his sister that she is less preoccupied during it than he is. Out of respect for Rosalee’s interest in the same profession, Daisy pays a decent amount of attention to the therapist’s counsel. Jesse would be more attentive if the first fifty pages of Red West’s freshly published tell-all of his family’s secrets wasn’t banging around in his head. Somehow, somehow it’s not even the dirt that gets to him, makes him stagger out into the hall after a while and crumple against a cart and let the world go dim.

It’s the sweet stuff, the gentle stuff, the stuff that was only ever supposed to be theirs as a family and that fuckers like Red West were goddamn privlidged to be witnesses to, spilled out for all the world to pick apart and psycho-analyze. He hasn’t told Daisy and now she’s asleep and as he’s on the floor in the deserted hall he finds there’s really nothing stopping him from doing what he wants. So he panics and lets himself work up to a dim eyed fury and only the cool shock of a wet rag against his neck brings him back from it.

“Just breathe for me, honey.” That little Texan ascent is saying as he gulps into a brown bag with the embarrassed realization he’s had a panic attack. Sure Daddy had them at his age, too, but that was to go perform in front of hundreds of folks. This is just from reading Red Fuckin’ West’s bad prose. He can hear himself laughing, hiccuping little laughs of derision at himself and it, and Donna cooing all the while.

“You can’t drive your bike like that.” she points to his still shaky hands half an hour later.

It’s comforting watching Donna shut the place down, not that it’s totally abandoned at night, not at all, but just watching her finish up her duties and stash away her papers and arrange her workspace feels as if the heart of the place, the vitality if it, is turning in for the night. And he’s going with it.

He follows Donna like a lost puppy and she doesn’t mind it, he’s sweet and soft spoken and no matter what she does she only gets weak chuckles from him.

His boisterous charm and tired joviality is threadbare and she feels like it’s the right thing to do to slip her hand into the crook of Jesse’s elbow, to gently tow him out of the Center’s fluorescent lit maze and out into the night. He giggles at her guiding him into the passenger side, a soft little noise of trusting gentleness that is bizarrely attractive in such a capable man. He folds his long limbs into her dinky car and waits patiently for her to get into her side.

“What?!” Donna asks him as Jesse keeps gazing at her with big blue eyes and droopy pink lips as she turns the key and fidgets with the windows to get some air flow, “Am I gonna have to buckle you in?” she teases at the way he’s just melted into the seat, head leaned against the headrest and long limbs folded where they first flopped.

“Mmmmmaybeee.” Jesse drags it out and giggles again -and she knows it is common to be a little drunk, a little silly, a little loopy after a panic attack as severe as the one she found him having, but she’s never heard of it or seen it be so cute. Against her better judgment to coddle a grown man, Donna leans over the small console between them and reaches across Jesse for the seatbelt, getting the strongest whiff of his natural musk and spicy cologne she’s ever gotten, it makes the musty cab of the car feel ten times hotter than it was moments ago and she fumbles in her haste to hurry up and distance herself.

It’s silly, Donna thinks, she’s being silly to find this procedure of bucking him in a intimate thing when they’ve done far more, when they’ve kissed heatedly on his bike and danced wildly to that new Elton John record in her off time. They’ve been more forward than this but somehow his pliant and drowsy magnetism has her heart thudding and her body responding in ways not even his glorious kissing could produce. But the way his breath puffs from his lips and the way he looks at her as if she’s everything he wants in this moment makes it hard to brush this interaction off as a nurse with her patient. Or a friend helping a friend. Donna brought Jesse in because he was physically unfit to drive, she is being kind because he’s obviously had an awful day, he’s loose and pliant because of exhaustion -these are familiar things to Donna, they are integral to her vocation and her expertise.

And yet there’s those eyes of his, soft and burning all at once, catching her skin on fire and soothing it right after.

It does nothing to make her breathing calm as she drags the buckle across his soft yet lean belly, down the taper of his waist, so willowy and elegant that it makes her want to cry in envy, sliding it to latch at his hip.

“Donna.” he rasps before she can pull away, his hand shakily coming up to touch her cheek and she stalls, feeling as scared as a kid for what he’ll say next, “You take the sunshine with ya, everywhere you go. M’sorry for those poor suckers we’ve left.” he jerks his head towards the blazing ball of light that is the Center amidst the dark parking lot and Donna blinks at the compliment, absorbing it slowly as his fingers on her cheek do their best to wipe her mind blank.

“Daisy is gonna be fine.” Donna assures, scrambling to order her reassurances for maximum comfort, “She’s getting stronger and she’ll be asleep the whole time we’re gone. A-and we gotta take care of you, ok? Can’t have you going down too, can we?”

“Okay.” he whispers and she realizes her hand is still pressed to his belly. “I-I’ve had a bad day.” he admits, and it’s the first self focused thing she’s ever heard out of this forever uncomplaining boy.

“Let’s uh, let’s get you home -rested. Let’s get you rested.” she propels herself back over to her side of the car and jerks the gear more forcefully than needed before driving them out. She’s not sure they actually talked about it or that it was agreed to verbally but they somehow both know they’re headed to her rented house, the place with the ratty sofa and the duck taped windows and the malfunctioning stove that Jesse cajoled into working long enough to make Daisy batch after batch of fluffy pancakes. She had nearly sprung on him back then, taken him down to the floor and ravished him for being such a nice human being.

The bar might be low for men, but since that day, Donna had learned that Jesse Presley was more than lean legs, a nice ass, a gorgeous face and an earnest desire to please. Jesse Presley was a good man. And so Donna felt no qualms about taking him to her house, plopping him down on the sofa after fetching sheets, and letting his grabby hands tug her down atop him for a goodnight kiss. A kiss that lasted, and lasted, and lasted. Lasted until he was kissing between her breasts, the neck of her tshirt tugged down in a way that would deform its shape forever as she was idiotically scrambling to undo his clunky belt, eager to see the expanse of perfect, golden skin that his face and neck promised.

Donna had never gone this far with a man before but some inner voice told her it was a once in a lifetime chance, not to sleep with a Presley, but to ease a boy who needs so much comfort right now he literally can’t breathe. Jesse’s kisses don’t stop and she doesn’t try to make them, he’s inexorable while being slow, and it’s a combination she’d never witnessed before. Perhaps if he’d rushed her, or made an outright pass, she’d have had time to consider, to deny. But he just kissed her and kissed her as his hands mapped and worshiped her, caressing her all the way from his allotted couch to her bed until she was beneath him, accepting him inside her body like she had let him in her heart.

Idly Donna wondered how many girls his father took and left with the same good intentions, winders if the generations will just keep at it, on and on. It doesn’t feel trite though, she’s not sure if it’s because it’s her first time or because of how intensely tender he is, or the way he cries partway through the act.

“Hay fever, sorry.” Jesse insists weakly.

“Killer this time of year.” Donna agrees, stroking down the sweaty muscles of his rippling back, “For me it’s the cedar.”

She feels trusted with his tears, cherished by his revenant kisses, and never once does he give her cause to regret it, to panic. It’s slow and needy, strong but kind, the whole way through -just like him. Donna’s eyes sting at the realization he’s giving her such a sweet first time, even if he doesn’t know it. She finds herself sniffling with him over the thought that it might be the only time.

“Thank you, thank you.” he gushes, sweet as anything in a thin whisper, after he scrambles out of her and she adds her hand to his to finish him off. He had dexterously snagged a pillow case off one of her pillows and after it had served its purpose, he dropped the sodden thing to the ground.

There’s nothing trite about the way they lay in sweet silence afterwards, the way he doesn’t even try to collect his autonomy but instead winds those long limbs around her and keeps his face on her sweaty chest. “You’re a rare one Donna.” he praises, sleepy and gentle over her heart.

Donna struggled against sleep for the next hour, desperate to engrave the feeling of him laying melted on her in peaceful slumber and the pounding ache between her legs that had finally known a man. Something like virginity that she simply hadn’t gotten around to tossing away, was suddenly something very dear and painfully sentimental to her now it was gone. Now it was now wrapped up in soft kisses, large hands entwining hers to the sheets and raspy endearments. She fell asleep propped against the pillow with his head on her belly, repeating to herself at the rhythm of her pulse down there -it’s just a fling, it’s just a fling, don’t expect more, you hopeful idiot.

Cold sheets, or the sound of the door shutting from his exit or the scratchy presence of a note the next morning were conspicuously absent when Donna woke up.

Instead she heard the sound of gentle babbling, like the way a person might talk to a pet and combined with the gentle wriggling she sensed beneath the sheets, Donna engaged briefly in a time warp and wondered when she got a puppy and who was talking to it. But there was no puppy here, instead, as cognisense fully set in she frantically sat up and beat at the wriggly sheets, Donna found Jesse, still long and lean and naked as she hazily recalled from the dimness last night, wedged between her legs and chatting with her muff, placing chaste kisses to it that barely parted her outer lips.

“No way.” she said her foggy morning thoughts aloud at the sight of this beautiful boy still with her in the daylight and more pressingly -face to face with her used and unwashed and unshaven privates. “Oh what are you going to do?” she wailed as that mortifying relaxation sunk in. “Why’re you down there, you nut?“

“Good Mornin’ to you too, miss.” Jesse laughed and his breath tickled her core that was feeling strangely achy and happy all at once. “I’m gonna lick your wounds, silly.” he slapped her thigh gently as he went on as if to reprimand her while tugging up a mildly bloody sheet corner as evidence for his displeasure, “Donna, ya shoulda said, dear.”

“Oh it’s not a big deal.” she insisted in a bit of a panic to get him away from her vagina and in an attempt to convince herself it didn’t mean much. “You were so good. Don’t worry about it.”

“But you shoulda told me.” he insisted gently.

“There wasn’t much time for talking.” she cringed as soon as she said it but he took that in stride after realizing she was not insinuating any wrongdoing on his part.

“Are you hurtin’ much?” he asked gently and he was still down there, broad and smooth shoulders wedged between her stubbled thighs, tapering down to his tiny waist and that peachy butt and then those legs that were hanging off the edge of her bed like so much lumber. “Donna?” he asked with laughter in his voice as her eyes glazed over in review of him.

“No, not much, you were very nice. It felt great.” she insisted truthfully and ended with a little hiss as he ran his knuckles along her petals. “I mean, I-I’m honestly not sure I’m up for more activities right this minute but it’s not bad. It’s not hurting. Please don’t worry about it.”

“Did you even…peak?” he asked and his face flushed red like he was most ashamed of not being sure of that.

“No I-I was mostly just soaking up the whole…experience.” she admitted because it was true and didn’t strike her as deplorable at all. He had been big and she was new and it wasn’t quite comfortable enough to get there. Which hadn’t diminished the experience or changed the point of their tryst anyway. “That wasn’t the point of it all anyway.” she said softly while reaching to push his hair out of his eyes. It had grown inches since she first met him. “Not for me.”

Jesse’s face softened quickly at that. Like she had struck a nerve and soothed him all at once. “Yeah,” he nodded, “it wasn’t for me either.” and it feels like a far larger confession that it is for both of them, “Which is rich comin’ from the man who got to come.” he laughed at himself right after and she did too. “Now spread these legs so hims can do a lil community service on hers poor widdle clam shell.”

Donna never would have thought such babyish, almost infantilizing gibberish could be so authoritative but the potency of its endearing qualities, with his skilled tongue and earnest desire to please, ensured her cooperation so that they didn’t leave the bed for hours yet. Donna soon forgot her unshaved legs, her need for a glass of water and the fact she’d forgotten to set an alarm -and then when she recalled that detail in a lull of his caresses, she recalled that it was Saturday and she was off. And then he wiped her mind blank again.

It wasn’t till halfway through the radio blasting Dancing Queen and Jesse discoing in jeans and nothing else while flipping an omelet that it seemed to occur to him there was a life outside Donna’s little place and Donna’s fluffy hair and Donna’s ratty rented flat, and Donna’s sunshiny smile. She watched as reality intruded on his creaseless features, an instant pucker and burdened eyes clouding that ethereally sweet face as the outside crashed in.

A world outside Donna. It felt as good to see how well she’d helped him to escape as it was painful to watch it all come back down on him, weighing like a mantle on those strong shoulders.

“Shi-eeet!” he slid to a screeching stop of his jiving in his sock feet across her linoleum floor. “I was gonna call mama, see how they’re takin’ the book release stuff.”

Donna had vaguely heard gossip about what she supposed was the book in question. A dirty little tattle tale by a fired employee is all it sounded like to her. “It’s bad then?” she asked.

“Shitty enough grammar to make me puke.” he joked bashfully and she supposed that it was his way of asking to drop it. “What’re you doin’ with your weekend? Like today? What else ya doin?”

“Not much.” she admitted, crossing her arms over the baggy shirt she’d donned to watch him cook her breakfast. “Um, I suppose I should get more groceries-“

“-I’ll make ya a list and we can go.”

“-and, oh. Ok. Yeah. And umm, well, I need to check on my dad. I usually spend my Saturday dinners with him.”

“Oh.” Jesse bit his lip, “I-I can go…you wouldn’t mind me taggin’ along for the groceries bit?” he asked.

“Of course not!” she tried to laugh off her butterflies, “Are you worried I’ll buy the wrong flour?”

“No, I’m worried you’ll buy margarine instead of good wholesome butter.” he growled gravely as he looped his arms around her waist and tugged her to him, laying his chin on the top of her head like she was dear to him and the butterflies went rogue in her belly against all her attempts to stay untangled. “I just wanna be with ya.” he admitted and she shuddered, winding her arms around his willowy waist and clinging on.

“I’d like that.” she admitted.

“Lemme just call my Mama real quick?” he asked.

Donna cringed before admitting, “I don’t have a working landline.”

“What?” Jesse pulled away just enough to look her in the eye, his own wide in protest, “Good lord darlin’, that won’t do. Livin’ alone and no phone for me to hear if you’re alright. Well, lemme grab my shirt and- help yourself to the omelet, baby. And remind me to get ya a damn phone!” he was already disappearing down her hall and she stared at the egg and ham concoction before her, wishing the terrible anxiety she felt over much she liked him would calm so she could taste it.

They ended up swinging by the Center first as Jesse acted like he’d committed a murder when noon rolled around and he hadn’t checked on Daisy yet. Donna felt for him and recalled the feel of his tongue too clearly to a fuss as she flicked her blinker to turn left, away from groceries and phones, and back towards her workplace. Some little part of her hoped he’d forget his promise to buy her one, it was extravagant and a little embarrassing.

The thumping beat of Springsteen’s Thunder Road filled her car with verve that matched the muggy exhaust tainted breeze that whipped through the windows and the noonday sun that glinted off Jesse’s rings as his hand wind surfed out the window.

“I got to play bass on this one.” Jesse murmured like someone might mention they had a hand in scoring a strike in their local bowling championships.

“What?! On this? You’ve worked with Springsteen?” she cried in shocked admiration.

“S’all my mama’s doin’.” he insisted as if regretting he’d made a deal of it. “A-and daddy. He taught me bass.” it’s the first personal thing about his daddy he’s divulged and Donna tucks it away for safe keeping.

“Aren’t you marvelous.” Donna swears.

“Hardly,” he blushes, “S’just when your name is Presley and your mom’s got her hand on the levers -artist’s tend to let ya mess about.”

“I somehow doubt they’d let a complete dud jam on their album.” she snarks and he bites his lip and doesn't retort.

The harmonica warbles on and Jesse’s hand raps out a rhythm on the car door. “-show a little faith there’s magic in the night! You ain’t beauty but hey you're alright, and that’s alright wi’me.” he sings to her, far more melodious than Springsteen’s grit and his eyes sparkle far more than stereo light ever could.

Once parked he worries his lip between his fingers as he stares at a faintly familiar car parked by his bike. It’s probably telling enough that Jesse left the thing here and went home with someone else. Or maybe folks will assume he wandered the streets and dive bars all night. At least that would spare Donna’s reputation while at it. “How ‘bout I go in first a-and if you want you come in later or -if ya don’t mind, you could wait out here? I’ll be back! Soon, I-I won’t dawdle, I swear!” he assures.

“Jesse, take all the time you need.” she smiles at him, leveraging her chair to lay back as sunbeams bathe her in a lemony glow, “I’ll be out here working on my tan.”

His smile is so full of relief that Donna realizes he was worried she’d be offended by his distancing himself and if he weren’t so relieved then maybe she’d be tempted to be offended. But she can’t bring herself to be. It’s all a mess in her head but she figures she can not make it worse by being accepting of the fact he doesn’t want to be seen with her. It’s ok, his smile makes that ok, as does the way those long fingers unclasp his seatbelt and the way those long limbs lean over her in a mirroring of last night and she feels those plush pink lips smooch her forehead, long and devoutly.

“Sit tight, baby.” he commands with his lips barely leaving her skin and then he’s out the door and strutting across the parking lot without a seeming trace of nervousness.

Rounding the hall down towards Daisy’s room he passes by the familiar wall phone and stops in his tracks at the sight of Rosalee propping Daisy up while having the receiver wedged between their cheeks. For a flash in his mind they don’t look a day over six with their scrunched faces and contrasting hair, always so compatible while entirely opposites.

Rosalee spots him first as Daisy is busy yacking at whoever they’ve held captive on the line and her blue eyes light with sweet recognition as she teases, “Well hey loverboy, good morning. Or is it afternoon?”

That makes Daisy look up and she answers someone on the line by proclaiming, “Yeah, he juusssst nowww walked in.”

“Who is that?” Jesse mouths, his forehead a washboard of wrinkled anxiety that Rosalee can’t bear anymore so she cracks and admits,

“It’s Mama, silly.”

Jesse relaxes a little on that account, moreso for the fact Daisy has obviously gotten past her presumption of being hated by their mother, if the giggles and gumption in her talk are any clue.

“Well yeah, I think he can talk,” Daisy is saying, “I mean I dunno, I’ll ask him. He looks like he’s missing a few ounces of fluids. You still got your tongue Jess?”

“Hush up!” He begs, pink in the face at the thought of mama thinking he’s been sleeping around when he was entrusted by Daddy to take care of his sister.

Daisy sticks her tongue out at him and Jesse finds that more reassuring that she’s stone cold sober than any other behavior he’s seen from her in rehab. Checking to make sure their squabble is unwitnessed, Jesse turns back and sticks out his own.

“Eww put that away, where’s it even been this morning?” she groans and his closes his mouth so fast his sisters become convinced of what had just been a suspicion.

“Oooh…” Rosalee coos.

“Nope nope nope.” He silences them with a meaningful hand chopping motion to the throat, “I kinda had an episode last night, and uh, Miss Donna was kind enough to lemme ride with her since my hands were shakin’. That’s it.”

“Oh Jesse!” Mama’s concern is loud enough over the phone to blast Daisy’s eardrums and reach his own, “Are you ok? You gotta make sure you eat and sleep. Did you sleep? She taking care of you? Baby? Are you -is he there, y’all?”

Rosalee scootches aside and pats the tiny sliver of white wall between the twins in invitation and resignedly he wiggles between them as Daisy laughs and tugs on the cord to help it reach him. Tucked together like this it feels doubly absurd to Jesse to be so fretted over and also, entirely soothing. He flings a lanky arm around each girl’s shoulder and squats a little to help Daisy reach his ear as she holds the receiver for him.

“Mama I’m fine.” he insists mid giggle as Rosalee’s finger finds a way to his armpit.

“Yeah, so fine you can’t drive!” Mama retorts and it relieves him that she obviously thinks the best of him, that he was in bad enough shape to go to a random girl’s house and not that he’s behaving like an absolute horndog in a new city. Just to make her not worry, he half wishes she’d think worse of him and just be displeased.

“Alright so, maybe I snooped through Red’s book yesterday.” Jesse admits since he intended to see how daddy and she were taking it, after all. “And it’s such shitty storytelling I got a little worked up. You know how I am when folks lyrics are dry a-“

“-Red wrote a book?” Rosalee interrupts as does Daisy with a-

“-am I in it?”

Jesse purses his lips and nods, twirling the phone cord and waiting quietly for Mama to say something.

When she does it’s a droll, “Red made takin’ LSD sound boring.” And between Donna’s sweet lovin’ and mama’s superhuman ability to shrug off the most defaming shit on the planet, Jesse is left smiling and burdened with only one small anxiety.

“How’s daddy takin’ it?” he asks as his ear gets pinched from Daisy mashing her face to his, eager to overhear. Rosalee is just face watching and Jesse knows she’ll get more information from that than if she listened.

“Oh, a bit hard.” she admits, “It's just so -so- tacky. To do that to a friend!” now she sounds mad, “When did we ever hurt that narcissistic fool? If our lifestyle was so unbearable he coulda quit, he had two decades to do it.”

“Yup.” Jesse pops the word for emphasis and notices someone down the hall has a disposable camera pointed at their little huddle. He supposes they do look a little bizarre, stacked in the alcove like overly matured sardines.

“Anyone giving you trouble about it?” Mama adds in concern.

“No. You know it jus’ came out yesterday and I-I-I haven’t been out and about much today.” Jesse admits and Daisy makes suggestive hand motions at waist level that he pointedly ignores.

“He predicts that when we’re in our fifties we’ll get back together.” she murmurs.

“Spoilers!” he hisses and mama laughs as does someone in the background that could only be daddy. “A real, genuine prophet, that Red.” Jesse wheezes. “And daddy,” he hollers loudly in hopes he’ll hear, “he were wrong about me hating the damn rollercoaster. I shit my pants everytime outta joy, I swear. Don’t let nobody make ya doubt that.”

For a minute all he can hear are mama’s suppressed belly laughs before Daddy’s rings clatter on the other end and the kids can almost hear the scratch of a sideburn against the mouthpiece, “Y’all can hear me?” he rumbles through and Jesse’s face gets smashed from both sides as the girls crowd in.

“Yeah we can hear ya daddy.”

“Alright then listen to me, lil munchkins,” his voice sounds as deep and smooth as chocolate, even over a trashy phone speaker, and they all hypnotically sway in anticipation of his next word, “y’all know how much I love each of ya, that I’d happily burn down my trophy room ‘fore I let anythin’ happen to the window boxes with yer various uh, weeds and rocks and such in ‘em that Red was always mockin’ and uh, I wanna apologize to ya, from the bottom of my heart, that I hindered y’all in your quest to strap the Wests to Roman Candles that one christmas. Ya had the right idea.”

Jesse’s day gets magically better after that phone call, like one sentence from Daddy can patch up his whole life. But deep down he knows, it’s a thread of Donna running through the whole thing, buoying him up, smoothing out the creases, patching up the little cuts. It makes daddy’s voice sound richer and his promises truer and Jesse holds the receiver and smiles as Rosalee makes plans to drive back for classes and visit them while she’s at it and Daisy suggests baby names.

Things are as they should be and somehow that means he ends up walking out into the parking lot with his two sisters, one of whom was technically not released and piling into Donna’s beat up Oldsmobile and taking off for the grocery store as if that were a sane thing to do. Rosalee tries her best to meet the young woman driving them and Donna is anything but cagey, yet with Daisy’s blathering about her and Jesse’s blushing over her and Donna’s slightly overwhelmed joy at it all -they make for a chaotic entourage picking out butter and pickles and hamburger buns.

Next stop, Donna watches as Jesse and Daisy spend a solid twenty minutes weighing the value of different landlines when all Donna needs it for is to answer if she’s been murdered or not and during this analysis she learns from Rosalee that the auburn haired girl with the bashful grin is going to school at Stanford. Nearly gave her father a heart stack, she laughs when she tells it, but she wanted to study psychology and be nearer him -the subtext that Elvis was more often in Vegas than at his own home goes unsaid and Donna doesn’t bat an eye.

For what the papers have to say about this family, there’s never once been due credit given for their love and comradery. It couldn’t have been easy and maybe it was far from good at times, but the Presley’s didn’t create this much love from a vacuum. Some aching part of Donna wants to meet them all and watch them in their natural habitat, swear to them that she gets it, that she’s so starved for it herself she’d trade anything for such affectionate dysfunction.

The phone Jesse buys her has no superior merits in static or connection but it does have a zebra print handle on it that Daisy insisted was the height of chic, and he insisted in turn that Donna deserved sexy things. Looking down at her overalls and plaid shirt, Donna has to agree she’s not exactly in Jesse Presley’s league.

Before she can think on that for too long and get herself into knots about it, they’ve piled back into the car and Daisy is eagerly asking if they can get dinner -if she can eat outside of her fluorescent lit, sterile white prison. Donna feels for her and she can see Jesse trying to formulate an excuse, how now is time to let Donna be as she’s gotta go visit her dad. If she weren’t so convinced these dear kids actually liked hanging with her she’d never have the guts to suggest it but they’re too honest and forthright in their affection for her to doubt it so she hears herself suggesting:

“Y’all could come meet my dad? H-he loves your dad’s music. Learned drums awhile back just to match Fontana. I know he’d love y’all to bits.” Rosalee and Daisy raise a chorus of agreement in the backseat but Jesse hesitates and Dona refuses to be hurt by it. He’s obviously the more cautious of them, and he’s got reason to be. Donna thinks she saw someone taking photographs of them all as they came out of the market.

There’s also the unspoken worry about putting Daisy out in public so soon with surroundings teaming with alcohol and other temptations. It makes Donna clarify, haltingly, “It would be somewhere quiet, wholesome. My dad he’s um, he’s a recovering alcoholic, see? That’s how I got into nursing, mama left to go get more from life and I stayed to take care of him. He’s been clean for a good bit now but -he could use the friendship.”

Daisy looks like she’s about to take offense at being considered only fit for friendships with washed up drunks and Donna gets it, that it’s touchy but it needed to be said if they’re going to meet him. Rosalee intervenes instead with a soft,

“Sounds good to me, we’d love to meet him. For my schedule it works, doesn't it Jesse?” she asks, “I mean, as long as it’s somewhere quiet? Maybe out of the city proper?”

“Yeah,” Donna agrees, already having a joint in mind, “we’ll get out of the city. Maybe out by Plano? They’ve got good barbecue at this one place.”

“Jess?” Rosalee asks again, softer this time.

Jesse just turns around in his seat, long arm bracing himself and his bulging forearm stretched across the console and Donna’s mouth waters at the popping veins and nimble fingers as she watches him stare a mute Daisy down. “Can I take you for barbecue with Miss Donna and her daddy and trust you to behave yourself?”

“Oh for fu-“

“Daisy?” Jesse cuts her off, dead serious and so easily authoritative that Donna’s legs rub closed despite the inappropriate context. He’s not all sweet boy and needy young heir and it gives her shivers. “I mean I don’t want even a raised middle finger outta ya, you hear me? Just imagine whatever you do is gonna be plastered everywhere, think about that and we’ll go. We got a deal?”

Daisy seems to weigh her anger at her brother’s bossiness with the dire need for something besides hospital food and after twenty tense seconds of belligerence she gives in with a hoarse, “Deal. Gosh it’s not such a big thing, relax.”

That night Donna’s love for them gets cemented. They’re only licking their fingers of sticky sauce and ordering five different smoked briskets to try but the kids make conversation like they’ve learned a bit of everything from everywhere. Which in retrospect, Donna assumes that maybe they have, exposed as they were to the best and the worst, but she didn’t expect it to be so natural and kind, so outwardly focused where Jesse pulled anecdotes about the Korean War from her dad she’d never heard and a mention or two of Ma from happier times after one of Rosalee’s queries.

Everyone just talks, talks about the stuff they want to talk about but usually don’t. It’s cathartic and Donna hasn’t seen her daddy so recharged in ages. Jesse ends the night digging in his deep pockets for something that ends up being a guitar pick.

“I-it’s my d-daddy’s, sir,” he stammers as he puts it in Donna’s father’s weather palm, “wish he were here to swap stories but I-I-I thought maybe you’d like it. Till you can m-meet him.”

Her daddy takes it gratefully and thumbs over it with a fondness Jesse has seen a lot of folks show for the man he knows too well and they love more than seems possible for strangers. It never fails to humble him and reignite some apprecIation of his own for Elvis’ warmth that’s made it all the way into the heart of a middle aged vet from Waxahachie Texas.

“I’d sure like to meet the man someday.” Her daddy admits. “And thank ya for dinner, young Presley.”

“I hope you will meet him, I think ya will.” Jesse stammers and can’t bear to meet Donna’s surprised gaze, “We owe your Donna a heap, sir. Mama is about ready to come down here and eat her up she’s so grateful. And I uh, I intend to not lose touch.” he mutters the last bit and it makes Donna feel close to faint with hope that her father misheard as they go on to talk about how the press has treated Elaine Presley and eventually say their good nights. Jesse won’t meet her eye, just tucks her into his armpit like her short height mandates for a hug and says goodnight. After the heat of last night she thinks she’ll waste away from such propriety.

As she gets in the car to drive her dad home, working the shift, a bright light slices across their windshield and after the sparks clear from Donna’s dazzled eyes she realizes someone, probably with a professional grade flash, just snapped a photo of them. They’re ordinary people who had barbeque with the kids of a famous man and now they’re being stalked. It’s not fair to them or the Presley’s and her dad rages against the unfairness of it and how nice those kids were all the way back to his place. It keeps Donna from crying over the notion that Jesse went through all those motions this morning to make her think he liked her more than just a lay, and now it’s a sideways hug and a terse “goodnight.”

Jesse’s heart hurts as he drives the girls back to the center in Rosalee’s car, smiling softly as he listens to their protests against his ratty motel and noticing the car behind trailing their every turn. He knew that the rehabilitation was wrapping up and he knew they were getting sloppy at laying low. There’s been a countdown in his head that’s kept him going, after all, and they’re so close now to the finish line that he had burned out and fallen into Donna’s arms for the last leg. The fact it is the last leg makes him jittery with a thousand thoughts at once. The chief one is how unfair it all is.

For her mainly.

But if there’s one thing Donna taught him last night, it was to take a little time to hurt for himself. By the time he sneaks Daisy back into the Center under a cloak of darkness and drives Rosalee to a hotel fit for housing a nice girl like his sister is, his heart just about wants to burst with hurt. He sends Rosalee up to her room with a kiss to the forehead and plans to have her car back in time for her to drive back tomorrow. He goes cback out to the parking lot and making a beeline for the beater Mercedes’ parked three rows down from his ride. He raps on the window and it doesn’t even take the gun in his boot to freak the unexpecting and nosy little bastard in the driver seat.

“Hey, brother.” Jesse greets as the guy actually rolls the window down in his panic on being confronted, “You like my route?” he asks congenially but there’s an edge to his voice that isn’t false bravado, “I noticed ya liked the barbecue, too. Wanna come up to my room and watch me sleep? Or were you gonna wait till I leave and try that with my sister? Hmm?”

The guy, like most guys in the nation, knows what Jesse did to the last fella who tried something with Rosalee, how his brother Jack and his friend Sam and the whole of Sam’s squad from the Memphis police just sipped bourbon while Jesse drug the fucker by the balls down S. Riverside Dr. It makes the smirking boy at his window a lot more imposing than his decent stature, hippy length hair and strong hands seem on first impression. “N-no man I’m here- I’m here to- uh-“

“Just hand me the damn film rolls and we’ll part ways, ok?” Jesse holds out his hand expectantly and the guy hesitates a bit. Sighing heavily, Jesse reaches into his back pocket for the persuasive shit and he can see the man’s panic show in his eyes again as Jesse reaches, only for it to be replaced by confusion as he’s presented with a badge of sorts. “This here badge was given to me by President Nixon himself, alright? Back when he asked to meet my daddy in the Oval Office, and he gave me this badge and it’s got the authority to demand such private property as photographs of my face and my sisters’ faces, ya understand? I wouldn’t wanna get you into trouble none by writing a damn reportc a. Just -hand ‘em over, k?”

The guy still hesitates, doubtful he’ll get off so easily and wary to give in and still get his ass handed to him. To be perfectly honest he doesn’t care much about some badge that some impeached President gave a rockstar’s fifteen year old kid . “Really, dude, I’m just here to meet a-“

“You really wanna see what my daddy gave me for my birthday last year?” Jesse asks with burdened patience and somehow, without it even being said, the man knows that birthday gift was a gun. Elvis Presley has been downright insane for some time now, it just fits. Jesse Presley, lanky frame bent to wedge into his low window like a looming specter in the dark doesn't look much more stable. He fumbles in the passenger seat and grabs the priceless rolls containing an excellent shot of that girl he’s been hanging out with, in her car with her dad as she pulls out of the barbecue place. It hurts the guy deeply to watch them go but he comforts himself with the thought of all the earlier snaps he’d managed to drop at the publishers earlier.

“Here, Jeeze.” the guy plops them in Jesse’s large palm and Jesse’s fingers curl over them elegantly while his pointer finger beckons still.

“Gimme the one in the camera, c’mon now. I’m not stupid.”

“You can’t shoot me-“

“No, I can do way worse, believe me. The roll, give it here!” Jesse’s ringed fingers make a gimme-gimme motion and the guy notices that those rings would make a mean and gaudy sort of brass knuckle if tested. His nose hurts at just the thought.

He hands over his camera and despite expecting the kid to drop the precious thing and stomp on it or something, all Jesse does is pop the lid and take out the roll. Adding it to the others in his back pocket along with that stupid and sentimental badge that belongs in an era back when his famous daddy still had the nation’s respect.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Jesse murmurs as he hands back the neutered camera, “and I hope you understand that if I ever catch you at this again, for myself or my friends, you’re gonna have more audits and subpoenas than you do donuts in that gut. Am I understood? I’ll bury your ass.”

It’s freaky getting threatened so effectively by a teenager. Like he’s old inside and knows that paperwork is scarier than a knife when you’re tired and broke. Most of these Presley’s belong in the loony bin or the MET, with Elaine Presley being the latter and the rest of her family the former. Either way, all of them need to be under lock and key, except they're too rich for that. And they’re certainly rich enough to make the guy’s

I life a living hell. Or very rich if he were to sell pictures of Jesse Presley necking a rehab nurse on his bike.

“Yeah ok, can I go?” the guy asks, exasperated.

“By all means, get the hell away from my family!” Jesse smiles and backs away, patting at the back of the guy’s car in farewell before the man hears a screeching sound of metal ripping off.

He frantically looks behind him only to find Jesse innocuously sauntering back to his bike in the dark parking lot. Suspicious of what the kid did, and suspecting a poked tire but too scared to get out and investigate while he’s still on the prowl, the guy waits and watches as the kid’s bike revs to life. Sure enough Presley steers the thing right past his window while waving the guy’s license plate like a giant metal envelope in his hand.

“Have fun without this, man, lotta bored cops on the lookout tonight!”

Feeling very good and very angry, Jesse waits at the red light, full aware the guy is watching him and when the fucker doenst get the hint to leave the parking lot ahead of him, Jesse revs his motor and bekons the guy over like a gentlman ushering a lady through the door first. Exhaust fumes have never smelt so sweet to him as he takes a turn trailing the guy until he’s well out of Dallas and nearing Arlington, well away from Daisy and Rosalee.

And Donna. Jesse’s blood boils and the hot summer air clings to his neck as he peels off into the dark of night and heads back to his motel with its greasy bedspread and its mildew shower where he’s gunked up the drain with his fervor for her large lips and sweet eyes and eyebrows that are like busy caterpillars dancing across her forehead. He wants her so badly it’s painful and now he knows what it’s like to be with her and held by her and accepted so readily, so selflessly, so sweetly -it’s worse than before. He can’t even bear to think of settling for shower steam and his fist. He falls into bed and rolls onto his belly, pulling open the bedside drawer before placing the license plate next to the complementary motel Bible. It makes him smile, Donna’s got a phone and he’s got a license plate. He keeps staring at his tin trophy knowing fully well tonight’s slumber is merely metaphorical. He’ll not be sleeping a wink.

He’ll be thinking of her. And how he’s gotta be a bastard for a little longer to keep her safe. And how mama’s about to have a baby and daddy’s about to remarry her and Rosalee just started to sleep herself after the attack and how Daisy will be out and testing herself and how John will be coming home to Ella and their baby and -he really outta visit Ella while he’s here in Texas. And while she’s got Marie staying with her. Marie could use to see another face. There’s so much ahead and none of it needs to involve Jesse fending off reporters so he can go make professions of premature love to a little Texan with a penchant for his pancakes and clitoris nibbles.

Like the planner his mama taught him to be, he steadies himself with a hand to the bridge of his nose and lines all these frantic responsibilities into a tidy row. And to the side are his wants. For a few years now those have gotten a little dusty and he doesn’t begrudge that, not really. But right now he makes another column to this mental checklist.

His needs.

Which comprise Donna and more Donna and Donna forever. It’s so simple, the roses ahead that may take years but it is simple nonetheless.

Go get the girl, that’s what they all say. Daddy had done just that.

Jesse thinks about that phone he got her this afternoon, assuming she’s hauled it out of the trunk by now. He’s already arranged for someone to hook it up by next weekend.

Step one accomplished. He wants to laugh at his own impatience. Step one, already done. Before the end of the week he can be calling her and she’ll be wrapping her fingers around the phone like he wishes she would somewhere else and he can make comments about how nice the barbecue was and she can ask about Daisy’s progress once released.

And they can keep that up. Till he finds a time to marry her. Hopefully not in some red letter year that involves his parents remarrying or making a surprise child.

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. I’ll admit I’m disorganized and have trouble keeping all the requests sorted when they’re scattered, what I do check regularly are the requests in the notes for chapters -and I do manage to get those added. So, if you’ve put in a request and I’ve failed ya, or if you’re new and would like to be added, please pop a note below. Xoxo

@paradsol000

@eliseinmemphis

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@ab4eva

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@powerofelvis

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@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

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@loving-elvis

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@60svintage

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #austin butler fanfiction #Austin butler #elvis austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin x reader #austin butler elvis #austin butler smut #elvis the king #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis #sarge and lil mama #sarge: 2nd gen

[itsgxsly]

THE LOST TIME

Summary: a drunken lando confesses his feelings for you, his best friend

Pairing: lando norris x reader

Warnings: alcohol

Word Count: 1027

You cursed whoever had woken you up from your comfortable sleep in the wee hours of the morning. You tried to ignore the repeated sound of your ringing all, but after several seconds you decided that you wouldn't be able to go back to sleep for a while, so you picked up your phone from the bedside table. Your face turned into one of confusion when you read Carlos's name on your screen.

"Carlos?" You answered a little surprised by the call at three in the morning.

“y/n, thank god you answered” you knew he was a little drunk when you heard his Spanish accent thicker than usual. “Listen, the guys and I are out today, and I need you to come get Lando. He is very drunk and insists that he does not want to go home, he says that he wants to go with you”

"Did you guys get Lando drunk?" Your tone of voice came out angry, worrying about your best friend in that state.

“It was Daniel's fault. He gave him the shots” You heard Daniel's complaint in the background when Carlos accused him.

You let out a tired sigh and got out of bed, putting your cell phone on speakerphone to talk to the Spanish while you dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt that you knew was Lando's. Being best friends since you were little, you had a lot of the british boy things in your closet, almost living together. Besides, you loved wearing his clothes considering how in love you were with him.

"Tell me where you are so I can go look for him" you asked Carlos who had waited patiently on the phone.

You said goodbye and minutes later you received a message from Carlos with the address of the club where they were. You drove through the streets until you reached the site, quickly catching glimpses of Daniel leaning against a streetlight standing with a smile that never seemed to leave his face. Next to him on the floor, Carlos was looking lost as usual and sitting with him was Lando. You smiled slightly when you saw your best friend sitting almost in a ball looking at the ground with a sad face.

You got out of the parked car making the gaze of the three boys look at you. Lando's whole face lit up when he saw you walk towards them and he got up as he could to get closer to you almost tripping in the attempt. Looking at Daniel and Carlos with a scolding, you said goodbye to both of them, deciding that you would talk to them another day when they were in better condition. With Lando clinging to you like a child, you talked him into getting in the car.

“You've come” his words sounded slurred and almost unintelligible as he murmured them over your shoulder, having placed his head there.

"Of course baby, that's why you called me" you answered softly while you caressed his head. "I'm glad to see that you're okay, but I'm very sleepy and it's cold, so get in the car and let's go home now" you asked.

Even in his drunken state, Lando couldn't help but delight in your caresses and how you talked about the word home in plural.

It didn't take you long to get to your apartment and after some havoc, you managed to get Lando to bed with his pajamas on. You settled next to him, looking at him while he babbled something you didn't understand. He approached you when you were already lying down, laying his head on your chest letting you caress his messy curls for the night. You caressed his hair and his cheek leaving some kisses on his head waiting for him to fall asleep, which you thought he had done until he spoke almost in a whisper.

“Thank you for coming to pick me up today. I'm sorry if I've been a bother” he sounded like a kicked puppy.

“You're not a bother, Lando. You're my best friend and I don't mind doing these things. I like to know that you are well” you comforted him. After your words Lando let out a dissatisfied sound, probing like a child.

"What's wrong?" You asked him.

"I hate when you call me that" he told you without looking you in the eye.

"Call you like what?"

"Your best friend. I hate when you call me that. I don't want to be your best friend” his words sounded more sober than a while ago and left you breathless thinking about the possibility that he felt the same.

"I don't understand you Lando" you wanted him to explain himself more so as not to get your hopes up.

"I love you. I have loved you so much for years. I hate that you say I'm just your best friend because I want to be more than that, I want to kiss you and take your hand in the paddock. I want to show off to the guys at the races and I want you to cheer me on when I win as my girlfriend, and I want you to kiss me on bad weekends. I want you to be mine” his speech moved you almost making you want to scream with happiness and love for the boy who looked into your eyes so lovingly from where he lay on your chest.

You did not respond verbally, but the smile on your face and the kiss you gave him after his words was a sufficient response to the yearning and repressed feelings that the two of you had kept for years.

“I love you so much too, Lando. I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid of losing you” you replied as you parted to breathe.

“We are quite blind. We could have enjoyed this for years and haven't.” Your boy now groaned.

"Well, now we can recover for all the lost time" you both smiled knowingly at your words, locked in a kiss again, knowing that now you had all the time in the world to love each other.

#f1 weekend #formula 1 #f1 2022 #f1 fandom #lando norris #ln4 #lando #norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #lando norris x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #mclaren f1 #drunk #fluff #friends to lovers

[scapegrace74-blog]

Love Stained, Chapter 3

A/N  Here is the promised mid-week chapter.  Jamie and Claire don’t meet in this chapter, but she’s not far from his mind.  Stay tuned next weekend when they get together for their first, ahem, session.   Thanks as always for reading!

Trigger warning: mild references to past sexual assault

The whole story can be found on my AO3 page.

”Weeel, if it isn’t my favourite wee fox cub!”

Geillis Duncan was a walking embodiment of the stereotypical flamboyant therapist with her brightly patterned clothing, chunky framed glasses and vibrant red hair.  Her office was a cozy pastiche of over-stuffed armchairs, swag lamps and Himalayan salt crystals.

Jamie settled his bulk into one such armchair, eyes scanning the familiar room for any new eccentric curios.  A gaudy cat with one paw raised in greeting stared down at him from a bookshelf with porcelain eyes.

Despite outward appearances, Geillis was a dedicated and relentless professional, always eager to support her patients in whatever way she could.   These weekly meetings had become a mainstay of his otherwise tumultuous life, and he’d grown quite fond of his colleague.

Didn’t stop him from taking the piss, though.

“What’s with yon wee cat?  Looks like he’s tryin’ to hail a cab on Grassmarket,” he teased.

“Ye really dinna miss much, do ye Jamie?  That’s a maneki-neko.  A Japanese cat of good fortune.  A patient gave it to me the other day.”

“We could all use a little more good fortune in our lives,” he conceded, eyeing the cat more critically.

Their session proceeded as usual, with Geillis sharing her notes and observations of the women they were both treating.  A large part of being a sexual surrogate was understanding the underlying causes of a woman’s dysfunction, and where she was at on her journey to coming to terms with those causes. Patients had to agree to allow the two professionals to share otherwise confidential revelations. Their work was two sides of the same coin: Geillis addressed the emotional response to trauma, while Jamie focused on the physical one.

“Mary McNab will only be comin’ to see me once a month, henceforth.  She even went on a date last week.”

“That’s grand!” Jamie enthused, truly pleased for the mousy woman who had been in treatment for well over a year after a violent attack in the alley behind her flat.  It had taken three months before she’d allowed even the lightest touch of his hand.

“Aye, tis.  She went on and on about how wonderful ye were wi’ her.  It was nauseating, if I’m bein’ honest.  Still, twas a job well done.”

Geillis pushed a thick envelope across her desk towards him.  This was part of their agreement.  Jamie never accepted payment directly from his clients and only once his assignment was complete.

“I hear Claire Randall finally sought yet out,” Geillis continued after Jamie slid the money into his messenger bag.  He worked hard to school his features before looking back up.  He wasn’t the only one with a keen eye for detail, and Geillis saw him better than anyone except his sister.

“Aye, she did.  She found me at the Ridge the other night and we spoke.  Texted me afterwards to thank me for my time.  Ball’s in her court whether she wants to pursue treatment.”

The therapist observed him with the same jade green gaze as her porcelain cat.

“And what did ye make of her?”

Measuring his words carefully, Jamie went on, “Skittish.  Highly strung.  A perfectionist who needs to please to feel valued.”

Geillis nodded in agreement.

“Ye’d have made a fine psychologist, lad.  She lost both parents in a car crash when she was seven.  Claire was in the back seat at the time.  It took o’er an hour to extract her wi’ the jaws of life.”

Jamie shuddered in sympathy.  His mother and father were also gone, but he couldn’t imagine what it might do to a child to be trapped in a twisted heap of metal next to the dead bodies of her parents.  Calling for them in that throaty wisp of a voice, with no answer ever to be heard again.  He urged the salty knot in his throat down into his chest.

“Her paternal uncle raised the wee lamb,” Geillis went on.  “A bit of an absent-minded professor type, I gather, but he doted on her.  Probably to excess.  He passed away eighteen months ago.  Cancer.”

The puzzle pieces began to rearrange themselves in Jamie’s mind.  Claire had said she’d been married for just over a year.

“Attachment disorder?” he guessed.

“A reasonable assumption, but Claire has no problems maintaining healthy relationships with friends or colleagues.  No, I think we’re looking at a case of fear of abandonment that’s manifesting itself through resistance to sexual surrender.”

A thought had been niggling him since he met Claire at the Ridge and heard her heartfelt wish to save her marriage.

“What of her husband?  Should he no’ be part of her treatment since it’s their intimate life that’s at issue?”

Geillis’ mobile mouth arched downward and she cleared her throat.   Clearly, she hadn’t formed a better opinion of the bastard than he had.

“Mr. Randall is of the impression that since his prior sex life was fruitful and, in his mind at least, mutually satisfactory, the onus lies wi' his wife to resolve whatever problems she brought to their marriage bed.”

Huffing like an enraged bull, Jamie stood and began to pace in front of the floor to ceiling bookshelves, fists forming and unforming in thin air.

“He does,” Geillis conceded, “approve of her seeking therapy, along with any treatment she may request from you.”

“Mac an donas,” Jamie swore, rounding on Geillis where she sat watching him from behind her cats-eye glasses.  “What kind of man sends his wife to another to see to her pleasure?  A duty that is his by both vow and honour.”

It was a rhetorical question, but Geillis answered him anyway.

“The kind that keeps ye gainfully employed, Jamie Fraser.”

#my writing #outlander #fanfic

[bbhyeoliskooks]

ꉂ ‵̤๑♡ 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ♡๑‵̤ꉂ 

➶  TXT’s Reaction to Realizing They’re Falling in Love

‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’. ‵๑*’.;‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’. 

Genre: 5 cuppies of fluffies and three sprinkles of angst~!

Warnings: Nothing, but it’s a bit suggestive(?) for jjuniebug~

Song: Can’t Help Falling in Love 

(Yeah... guess who’s a clown for coming back after like 15 days of break when she’d said she’d come back in march 🗿🗿 we’re just gonna pretend that never happened, and shift to where i’ll post in a while?? thank you for being patient with me tho 🥺)

‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’. ‵๑*’.;‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’.

ꉂ ‵̤  Yeonjun ꉂ ‵̤

<3 You and Yeonjun had um... a rough night of frustration so you decided that even though you were friends, you could have a few benefits only the two of you knew about

<3 It had been a while of resting with each other after cleaning up with blankets covering the two of you as you giggled, telling stories

<3 This time you were being clingy instead of him, snuggling up to him while he fawned over how cute you were even if your hair was messy

<3 He was in the middle of telling the story when he stopped to appreciate how you were paying full attention to him and only to him for that matter

<3 Seeing how your sparkling eyes widened in the moonlight once he told you about how he fed the ducks in the pond with bread, he couldn’t help his new desire anymore

<3 Without warning, Yeonjun leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours

<3 The kiss lasted for a while >.< both of your hearts pounding against your chests quickly despite the other person not knowing anything

<3 You both pulled away at the same time, panting because of the loss of air once he captured his lips with yours 

<3 “How can someone’s lips be so soft,” he delicately whispered before cupping your cheek tenderly with his hand (ahh my poor heart, why am i doing this to myself eeee >3<)

<3 Even like this, you were so gorgeous to him and you made him smile so much that goodness, he can’t help but fall in love with the beautiful you. 

‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’. ‵๑*’.;‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’.

ꉂ ‵̤  Soobin ꉂ ‵̤

<3 Awwe late night drives with Soobders, let’s go~!

<3 It just peeked two am, the wee hour of the morning in which you obviously knew the two of you weren’t supposed to be out this late since classes started tomorrow

<3 How had it all started? Because both of you were still awake at one am for some reason, you decided to do an activity with him to make both of you sleepier

<3 It had been an adventure of driving Soobin to Mcdonalds first to get his ice cream like he asked, but then soon evolved into driving just because it was soothing

<3 Soobin was softly singing along to Magic Island, looking out the window while you thought internally how pretty his voice sounded 

<3 All of a sudden, he spoke up after thinking for a while, “If we ever grow apart, will all our late adventures be over?”

<3 You were confused as to why he asked the question nonetheless, but you found his worries endearing... what made him think that in the first place?

<3 He looked to see you with a soft smile decorating your face when you hadn’t answered while you pulled over just to answer him

<3 “Don’t worry, my Soobders~ There’ll be much more to come, and I promise we can do this as long as you’re with me and I’m with you til the end of time. You promise, too?” You asked before sticking up your pinky finger. 

<3 His heart- aghh he knows he can’t take this fluttering feeling much longer !! 

‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’. ‵๑*’.;‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’.

ꉂ ‵̤  Beomgyu ꉂ ‵̤

<3 Beomgyu knew he had a fever and guess what he did that made you as red as a tomato due to anger !

<3 He wasn’t taking care of himself and you had enough of it :cc

<3 It was after you fed him (literally) with a ton of chicken noodle soup that you decided to reprimand him once and for all

<3 “You’re so stupid for not resting when you’re sick, idiot! I told you so many times to stay home, but you didn’t listen. What could’ve happened when-”

<3 Instead of answering, he tugged on your arm to make sure you’d fall into his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist in order to bring you closer

<3 “I know and I’m sorry, but could we please just stay like this? I wanna hold you, please. You know that your hugs give me strength the most.”

<3 Seeing how you didn’t object to his affection, he sighed against your embrace while sighing in relief~

<3 Although you were still a bit angry at him for not thinking of himself, with no hesitation you held him back while humming his favorite song quietly to yourself 

<3 “Beomgyu, you know that I love you a lot, right? So please do me a favor and take care of yourself 🥺,” you cooed while mustering up the best puppy eyes you could do

<3 Seriously if you keep this up, he doesn’t know what he’ll do with that pounding heart in his chest

‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’. ‵๑*’.;‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’.

ꉂ ‵̤  Taehyun ꉂ ‵̤

<3 are you happy to be in paris- oui (ifykyk hehe)

<3 N E WAY, the teacher paired you up during this school trip to France for an assignment with the one and only Taehyunnie !

<3 You both easily completed it after thirty minutes, so for the rest of the time you had left, decided to scout a few trinkets and souvenirs for home~

<3 Along the way though, you finally found the Eiffel Tower and Taehyun awed at how pretty it was, pulling on your hand to get a closer look

<3 As if everything was going in slow motion, you heard La Vie En Rose echo from the back !

<3 You giggled at how the butterflies in your stomach fluttered as soon as the lights shone softly onto his warm face

<3 Taehyun held out his hand as if to say “care for this dance?” and you really couldn’t say no to that charming boy

<3 for this was a place containing the language of love after all~~

<3 The two of you stayed like that for a moment, dancing through the night while staring into each other’s gentle eyes

<3 He soon realized while holding you that you were the person he wanted to experienced new feelings with- and seeing your blinding smile grow whenever you were with him... it’s cheesy, but you two are definitely made for each other

‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’. ‵๑*’.;‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’.

ꉂ ‵̤  Kai ꉂ ‵̤

<3 It was a rainy day today :(( a bad rainy day today...

<3 At first, it was actually quite calming as you heard the famous piece “Clair de Lune” play from the distance~!

<3 But to add to the pile of misfortunes that occurred today from running late to classes to embarrassing yourself in front of everybody by loudly dropping both you and your books at the library, this was the most frustrating part since you forgot your umbrella when you left the house :cc 

<3 Just your luck, huh? You were sure you looked like a pathetic fool in front of everyone there

<3 You just started piano lessons a few weeks ago so when you compared yourself to others, seeing how well they played, especially Kai...

<3 You couldn’t help but tear up since you kept thinking you weren’t going to be as good enough as them no matter how much you tried

<3 The tears welling up in your eyes gave you enough courage to step out into the rain, but before you could...

<3 You felt someone slip his hand into yours, holding an umbrella which covered the two of you as long as you stayed close to him

<3 When you burst into tears as soon as you glanced up at Kai, he felt the need to protect and make you feel better to the best of his abilities by engulfing you in a tight hug

<3 Really, what’s wrong with him? He said he’s too young for love, but what was this warm and bouncing feeling in his chest when he let you cry on his shoulder?

‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’. ‵๑*’.;‵๑*’;.‵๑*’;. ‵๑*’.

Posted: 1/15/21- 3:00am (yes ik im up so late but what can you expect after i’ve taken like a four hour nap earlier)

Tags:

#txt fluff #txt angst #txt reactions #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt timestamps #txt ot5 #txt drabbles #txt fanfic #txt ff #txt fic #txt headcanons #txt blurbs #ahhh hi im back #big cry i need to sleep soon it's nearing 3am #i have to go to physical on tuesday tho pls save me :D #anybody just randomly craving chicken rn or is that just me

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair

Chapter 22: The Competition

Summary: Claire executes her idea to mess with Jamie

Read on AO3

Read chp 22 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

a/n:  A late night Sunday post (the worst time, sorry!) because I wanted to get part 2 of last chapter up. So we pick up the same day as we left off after the incident with the silver. It starts out in Claire’s POV again but switches to Jamie's. It’s pretty clear but I thought I should give a heads up.

Chapter 22: The Competition

***

They spent the next while outside, walking around, hand in hand. Jamie was rather clingy, pulling her closer if she tried to wander away and squeezing her hand tightly. The land near his house— his “property” as he called it— was beautiful, and they simply wandered for a short time. They talked about everything and nothing, and she enjoyed the sunshine and soothing sound of his voice. As the day went on, she could feel his residual tension gradually easing until he forgot all about the incident with the silver. 

By the time they got inside again, washing dirt from their hands (since Claire couldn’t resist stopping to tend to a few plants in the garden, Jamie was back to his usual self. 

Trying to suppress a mischievous grin as she watched him wash his hands, Claire decided it was time to whip out her idea from earlier. 

“So…” she started conversationally, casually leaning against the table as Jamie eyed her up and down with a dubious expression, “you think I’m always touching you...” 

Jamie groaned and gave a roll of his eyes. “Ye’re one tae hold a grudge. I’ll never live that comment down, I see. All I meant was that ye’re verra touchy, and I like it.” 

Claire hummed, neither confirming nor denying, and countered, “and I think you’re just as touchy as me. In fact, I think that I could go longer without touching you than you could go resisting touching me.” She twirled a strand of hair on her finger, biting her lip while eying Jamie.

His brows raised, betraying his eagerness for a little game. “Is that a challenge?” 

“Care to hear the rules before you accept?” 

His lips downturned in a fond smile as he nodded. 

“No touching. You can get as close as you want and do whatever you want without touching. The first one to give in and reach for the other is the loser.” 

Jamie gave a little snort and grinned. “Ye’ve already lost, my sweet lass,” he said cockily, shrugging those broad shoulders of his, “ye can barely resist touchin’ me for even a second.” 

“It’s arrogance like that which will get you in trouble,” she warned. 

As if proving her point, he was already advancing on her. 

When he was only a hair’s breadth away from her, those beautiful blue eyes alight with the challenge, he said in a low, rumbly voice that twisted her insides in a way that just wasn’t fair, “ye ken, there’s a human story about a fairy who dies if she doesna get enough attention. Think ye can fair better?” 

Claire leveled him with her best narrowed eyes and calmly answered, “oh there will be no lack of attention, I assure you. I will have you begging.” 

To punctuate her point, she leaned in to hover her lips over his, purposefully breathing out a slight puff of air that she knew he would feel. 

“Do we have a deal?” she breathed. 

“Aye, I agree to yer terms, lass. I canna wait tae see ye lose.” 

To punctuate his point, Jamie lifted his hand so it was just under her chin, as if he was about to tilt her head up toward him, only he didn’t touch her. 

“What shall we do now, I wonder?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. If you’re bored you could always kiss me,” Claire suggested, already relishing all the teasing to come. 

“Verra funny,” Jamie said. He took a step back, glancing toward the kitchen. As if spotting something, he suddenly exclaimed, “actually, I know! I nearly forgot!” 

“What?” Claire asked, instantly intrigued. 

“I have a wee present for ye! With everythin’ yesterday...” his eyes lowered, loathe to bring up the events of the previous day, but then continued, “It almost slipped my mind.” 

Claire tilted her head inquisitively. Jamie seemed particularly enthused with his body all but buzzing with excitement. She couldn’t help but smile at his boyishness. 

“Stay here!” he said before bounding off toward the kitchen. 

Claire waited patiently with her hands in her lap and smiling to herself. She loved him more than anything. Already she was beginning to regret her idea for this game because she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him the second he got back and kiss him until he was breathless and staring down at her with those adorable glazed eyes. As much as Jamie teased her about having a glass face, he was beyond easy to read after he’d been kissed thoroughly. He couldn’t keep his enchantment from his face any more than she could pretend she didn’t feel the same. What a pair they were…

Her musings were interrupted when Jamie appeared in front of her with something in his hand. Smiling all the while, Jamie sat down next to her. 

“I’m sorry I didna wrap it like a proper gift but all I have is some left-over Christmas paper and I didna think that I—” he stopped suddenly, eyes shining with mirth as he realized, “I’m ramblin’, aren’t I?” 

Claire didn’t answer the last question since she was still lost from his strange words, and asked instead, “wrap it?” 

Jamie laughed, shaking his head and waving a hand dismissively. “Nothin’,” he chuckled. He shoved the object in her hands (careful not to actually touch her) and then sat back, watching expectantly. 

Giving him a shy smile, Claire found the opening and reached inside. The first thing her hand encountered to pull out was a small square— a little smaller than her hand— with the image of the familiar purple of…

“Heather?” she asked, wondering at the perfect image in front of her. It looked nearly as if she was holding the actual plant in her hand, even though she wasn’t, of course! The small square was thin and smooth, and made sort of a shaking sound. 

Jamie nodded encouragingly but didn’t offer an explanation. He looked back toward the large object in her hand, clearly wanting her to pull out more things. 

She did, one by one pulling out more small squares with the amazing images of her favorite plants. As she did, Claire was beginning to wonder what exactly was their purpose. By the 10th one, she decided they sure must have been meant to be displayed. They were far too beautiful for anything else. She’d noticed around Jamie’s house that he had things like this hanging on the walls, with beautiful colors and scenes. The fair folk sometimes made art, but nothing so perfectly real as these images. She could stare at these for days and never tire. 

Holding all of them in her hands like the precious gift they were, she looked up at Jamie with a wide smile. 

“Thank you so much, Jamie, I love them! Where should we put them, maybe upstairs or by…?” 

Jamie was giving her a fond look that he sometimes did when she was acting peculiar, and it made her trail off. 

“They’re seeds, lass,” he said, giving a nod at the images in her hand. 

She lifted them up, squinting at the pictures, completely lost. 

“These aren’t really plants, Jamie, they don’t actually have seeds,” she said dubiously. Maybe he’d gone funny in the head? 

“No,” he laughed, “inside. Those are jus’ packages that hold the seeds. Inside are hundreds of seeds. And these are jes’ the beginning. For the rest of the gift, I thought I could tear up my wee garden so we could expand it. I thought ye might enjoy havin’ somethin’ of yer own. I ken my patch of dirt can barely even be considered a garden, and I thought ye might be missin’ tendin’ to plants and wantin’ to do somethin’ ye’re passionate about, so I…” 

“Jamie, you thoughtful man!” she exclaimed. She started to throw herself forward, about to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him in gratitude, but she managed to stop herself just before making contact. 

She sat back dejectedly, clutching all the “seed packages” in her hands as if touching them could make up for not being able to touch Jamie. 

He was laughing at her, the bastard! “Ready tae give up yet, lass?” he wheedled. 

“That’s not fair,” Claire shot back with a pout, “you chose now to give me such a lovely gift knowing full well that I’d want to hug you.”

“Ye’ll recall your rules were that anything goes as long as it isna touching,” Jamie sat back, lacing his fingers behind his head and looking smug. 

Suddenly, all the urge to hug Jamie was gone. “You ridiculous human,” she said with a roll of her eyes. 

He answered with a grin and a shrug. “It’s yer game, lassie, I’m jus’ winning it.” 

“That’s it,” she said with a shake of her head. She dropped Jamie’s gifts from her hands and shot to her feet. 

Quick as a flash, she had Jamie straddled, her legs just barely on either side of his, hands braced on the couch behind him, and her lips hovering over his. 

Much to her satisfaction, Jamie let out a gasp. His lips parted, and she could feel the puffs of air from his ragged breathing. He was still as a statue, completely taken aback. 

“You think you’re so good at this,” she purred, making sure that he could feel wisps of her breath against his lips, “that you’re so much better than me. But let’s drop the bravado, you’re just as bad as I am.” 

Even though they weren’t touching, Claire knew his heart was beating wildly. His eyes held a lovely combination of glassy desire and alarm— because he knew he was in deep trouble. 

Feeling like a predator with its prey, Claire leaned in even closer so her lips were as close as possible to his without touching. 

“You could end it now…” she breathed, “you could just lean forward a bit and kiss me. It wouldn’t take much— just a tilt of the head and you could feel my lips against yours…” 

Jaime let out an involuntary groan before he realized what he was doing. Coming out of his daze, he looked surprised at himself for a second, but then his face took on that air of smugness once again. 

His lips curved into a smile. “Verra good, lass. I have tae give ye credit. But I have a better suggestion. Why dinna you just bridge the distance? Ye’re obviously longin’ to be close.” 

Claire returned his teasing every bit as much as he was giving. “Hmmm, but I’d rather if you did it. Come on, darling. Think about how soft my lips are... How much you like having them pressed against yours... I know you’d love it if you could just grab the back of my head and pull me down to you right now. I wouldn’t even resist…” 

Jamie was trying very much to keep himself present in the competition, but Claire could see his eyes growing distant as he imagined the scenario she described. There was desire in those beautiful blues, clear as day, and it gave her the delicious sensation of butterflies in her stomach. 

But he was a stubborn, bloody man. He drew himself back to the present once again, set as he was on winning. 

“I dinna think I want that at all, but I thank ye for the suggestion, lass,” he lied, “What I really want is tae win and see ye admit that ye’re the clingy one. So I’ll thank ye tae remove yerself from on top of me.” 

“I’m not on top of you,” Claire shot back, looking down in illustration of the fact that no part of her was, in fact, touching him. 

“Well wherever ye are, perhaps ye’d move?” 

Claire hummed, smiling deviously, “make me.”

“What?” Jamie choked. 

“I don’t think I want to move…” Claire said innocently, “I think I want to stay right here. Why don’t you make me?” 

Jamie grumbled something under his breath. “I suppose I’ll jes’ be stayin’ here then.” 

***

Long after his faerie had gotten bored trapping him beneath her on the couch, Jamie stood in the kitchen doing dishes and trying to get his mind off of her. He could tell she was plotting something in the other room, probably some other devious idea to bend him to her will. She’d nearly gotten him on the couch, too. It took every ounce of stubbornness within him not to simply end the game then and there. 

And Jamie had extraordinary control. 

After all, he’d been sleeping in the same bed with her all this time and never once had they done more than kiss, even if it had gotten rather hot and heavy. As much as she was all over him, Jamie had managed to keep his baser desires in check. Not only was Jamie too nervous to broach the question of whether faeries even had physical intimacy in the same way as humans, sex was something he believed was sacred within the bounds on marriage. Jamie wanted to do right by her in every sense. He wanted Claire to be his forever, and he could wait until it was time. 

But this bloody game was somehow making it even harder, the tempting wee vixen. 

He had to wonder whether she knew what she was doing…. Whether she felt the same… 

Jamie clenched his teeth and shook his head, trying to clear his mind of such thoughts before he did something foolish like burst out and ask Claire to explain fae reproduction. That was a delicate conversation and should only be broached with a clear head, and Jamie’s head was anything but clear. 

He nearly jumped when he turned around from the sink to find Claire just behind him, a smirk on those perfect lips of hers. 

God, to kiss them… They did look awfully soft...

“Can I help ye, lass?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant and unaffected by the enchanting creature in front of him. 

“I was just wondering whether you wanted to do something?” she asked innocently, her hands behind her back. 

“What’d ye have in mind?” he asked with raised brows. 

“Oh, nothing in particular. It just looked like maybe you wanted to kiss me,” she said. Claire bit her lip, and Jamie had to swallow hard. 

Keep yer wits about ye, lad. Steady on. 

He made a humming noise from deep in his throat. “Funny, I was thinkin’ the same thing about ye. Something wrong wi’ yer lips?” 

Claire released her bottom lip from her teeth and gave him a pout. 

“Come find me when you get lonely then, I suppose,” she said. Feigning nonchalance, she turned on her heel and strode into the other room. 

While Jamie was quite certain that Claire would come running back to him soon enough, the game would be no fun if he was just doing household chores the whole time. Jamie wasn’t one to run from a challenge, nor was he one to leave his enchanting lass alone for too long.

He made his way into the living room to find Claire inspecting the contents of his bookshelf. After the mishap with his mother’s candlestick earlier, he’d safely removed them and placed them in his office instead. Still, Claire seemed to be eying the contents warily. 

Rising up to his full height, he stepped just behind her. 

Claire turned her chin over her shoulder to glance at him with playful, narrowed eyes. 

“What are you doing?” she demanded. 

“Standing,” he answered simply. 

“Would you care to stand somewhere else?” 

“No I would not,” he said, “I’m verra happy here. Why, am I botherin’ ye, lass?” 

He knew the answer to that question. While he didn’t have Claire’s empathic abilities, he could tell she was buzzing with the need to touch him. Capitalizing on this, he added, “ye look tired, a nighean. Why dinna ye lean back on my chest for a moment? I can wrap my arms around ye, keep ye warm. Are ye cold?” 

Claire’s eyes went wide, betraying the temptation his words brought for her, and she quickly turned her head back toward the bookshelf so he couldn’t see her expression. 

He was so close! Just a little more and she’d give in, and he’d have his faerie in his arms again… 

“Come on, a leannan,” Jamie tried to sound as rational and sensible as possible, “ye ken I’m no’ goin’ tae break. Ye dinna want this to go on forever. Why dinna ye just end this silly little game and we forget all about it and have a cuddle?” 

He saw her shoulders tense, the muscles drawing together as if she was warring within herself. Her body seemed to waver between action and inaction, and then suddenly she slid out from between him and the bookshelf, successfully escaping without a single touch. 

“Nice try, Fraser,” she said, “but if you think the game should end, you can end it.” 

She stalked over toward the couch, putting some distance between them, and put her hands on her hips. Eying him expectantly, she waited for some sort of action. She looked incredibly adorable, feisty but so small. Her head was cocked at him, as if in a dare, and it was just so damn cute that Jamie nearly gave in. 

Instead, he walked right up to her, leaned down as if to kiss her, but stopped at the last second. 

She must have been expecting him to go through with it because a sigh escaped her lips. 

“Ye have an eyelash, jes’ there,” Jamie said, pointing at her cheek so his finger a hair’s breadth from her skin. 

“Will you help me with that?” Claire asked breathily. She sounded so affected by him that she barely had any teasing in her voice at all. 

Jamie leaned in to let his lips drift just over her forehead. He trailed them down, as if he were kissing the skin of her face and neck instead of the air just above. Claire’s head tilted involuntarily to expose the column of her throat like she wanted to give him access to more skin that he wouldn’t even touch. 

She was putty in his hands, the puir lass.  

Suddenly, Claire took an abrupt step back and lifted a hand to press to her forehead, driving the heel of her hand into her brow. A tiny whimper fell from her lips.

His brain stopped for a second, his heart skipping a beat before he realized what was going on. “This is jus’ a tactic,” Jamie said with a grin, stepping closer again, “verra tricky lass, but it willna  work.” 

But then Claire looked up at him with wide eyes that clearly held genuine discomfort, and she managed a weak “it’s not— I feel...”

She stumbled backward, and as soon as her knees hit the couch, she sat down heavily, her hands returning to grab her head. 

Every notion of playfulness disappeared from Jamie. In fact, the entirety of the game was gone from his mind and replaced only with concern for her. He rushed to her side, sitting down next to her on the couch. Both of his hands came to her without a second thought, resting on her back and the other reaching for her face. 

“Claire?” he asked. He had no idea what else to do. 

Slowly, her hands withdrew from her face and she blinked several times before looking up at him, leaning instinctively into his touch.

“Are ye alright, lass?” he asked urgently. 

“I am. Sorry, I—” her brows furrowed, “I just felt very lightheaded all of a sudden.” 

Jamie’s thumb stroked over her cheek as he held her face, and Claire seemed to realize that all at once. As if she’d been missing his touch terribly, she leaned forward to let her body rest against him. He brought both arms around her and hugged her tightly, wondering if she could feel the racing of his heart. 

While Claire took a second to soak up the physical comfort, Jamie tried to take stock of his faerie. It was hard to tell since her face was pressed into his shirt, but he thought she was a little pale. Other than that, there didn’t seem to be anything visibly wrong. 

“How do ye feel now?” Jamie asked. 

Claire sat back, pulling away from his grip, and gave him a smile. Although it seemed genuine and a valiant attempt at reassurance, it came off a bit weak. 

“Better. It’s passed,” she said with an air of confidence. 

“Are ye sure?” he asked, reaching up to hold her face again. 

She nodded into his hand. “Yes,” she breathed, “sorry for ruining our game…” 

Jamie shook his head, a lump suddenly forming in his throat. Didn’t she know that she was a million times more important to him than a silly competition? Had she no idea how precious she was? He’d drop everything in his life at any moment for her, no questions asked. 

“Dinna fash,” was all he mustered out as the weight of his declarations remained in his heart and mind, “are ye sure ye’re alright?” 

“I’m fine,” she said, nodding more convincingly this time, “I think maybe the chill just got to me, it’s awfully cold in here.” 

Jamie chuckled, shaking his head at the more typical behavior and trying to cover his sense of relief. 

“Come on, let’s get ye a blanket and a cuddle, sweet one.” 

***

a/n: I promise my brain isn't alwayys a pure fluff factory (I'm not saying enjoy it while you can, but I do hope you're enjoying it...)

So much love to you all :) Thanks for reading!!

Next

#I’m sorry this is literally the worst time ever to post #if you’re in my time zone that is #maybe you want to start off your Monday with some fluff?? #hope you enjoy!! #all that was fair #update #outlander fanfiction #claire x jamie #fae claire

[wallwriterstuff]

is it okay if you do one about the reader who is 13-14 going with Bella to save Edward and when Alec see's her, he realizes that she's his mate and tries talking to her and her being scared but after sometime they have a sweet bf/gf relationship? Thank you, and your writing is awesome, sorry if I bothered you

Hey hi hello, you most certainly have not bothered me at all 😊 You’re very sweet and I’m glad you enjoy my writing, I hope you like this piece just as much as the others!

Just as a wee reminder to yourself and others who wish to request anything Alec related from me, when I write for Alec, I do tend to write him as the 13-14 year old book version. The only time I age up Alec and Jane to the 16+ year old movie version is if I receive an NSFW request for them. I am still figuring out what I’m comfortable writing in terms of the level of explicitness, so while I figure out what sort of NSFW requests I will and won’t take please be patient and don’t be rude about it if you send me something I don’t think I can deliver, there’s plenty of other really incredibly writers out there I’ll happily link you to if I don’t think I can provide what you want. 

For now, have this fluffy little piece. 

Forever Yours:

Words: 5416 (oopsie)  Warnings: There is some description of injuries later on and a lot of descriptions of fear and distress in the first half of this fic. 

Alec was not one to dwell on things he didn’t find interesting. In his human life he had been pigeon-holed into farming, the manual labour something that would support his family and one of the few occupations he could actually get training for, since it meant sending him into a field and leaving him there to work alone most of the time. His village was not a welcoming place to people like him and Jane, and despite his vocation to be a blacksmith his dreams were shelved in order to provide for his mother and sister. The end result was an insatiably curious young teen desperate to break free of the tedious field work and explore what else the world had to offer him, a trait that had only been solidified by his transformation.

Currently he found himself fascinated by the readings surrounding physical Geography, the formation of the world brought to the forefront of his mind after passing through a village that had suffered an Earthquake on a mission not a month earlier, and studying such things was how he spent the majority of his evenings now. Then in the Cullen boy came, bedraggled and smelling like three week old garbage he was pleading for the end of an existence far greater than his human one could have ever been, and Alec’s mind was set whirring into motion once more.

He couldn’t begin to fathom the mind-readers motives for wanting to end his immortal life, not when it had offered Alec so much. Over the course of centuries, he had accrued wealth and knowledge, prestige, and authority that the boys in his village could only ever dream of given the circumstances they were born into. Immortality offered an eternity to pursue what interested you without the disruption of sickness, or fear of being left out of doing what you love due to injury; Alec never have to worry about being unable to train because he’d sprained his ankle after all.

No, no it was simply incomprehensible as to why the Cullen boy would throw away his immortal existence so readily, and when the reason why was finally revealed to them it only left Alec all the more baffled. A human? He wished to end his life because a human had done the same? Humans died everyday in droves, most of them tripping over their own feet and into their graves. They were weak, fragile, dim-witted enough that most actually deserved the cattle-like status his predatory nature accredited them. For Edward to willingly choose one as his mate had been foolish from the start and Alec had to wonder if this wasn’t some sort of cosmic ‘I told you so’. Surely a human couldn’t be the true mate of a vampire? Alec had never pondered over the mating bond before but as Demetri and Felix silently followed after the boy to see to it he did nothing foolish, he began to wonder about the nature of such bonds.

Aro and Caius had both turned their mates, as had Chelsea. They had all felt some form of affection for their mates as humans but had the bond solidified before or after their transformation? Were the red strings of fate he’d read about in varying fantasy novels real to some extent? Venom hardening them to form the strong bonds that allowed vampires to mate for life? He couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone to the point that Marcus had, where they became the only thing his world revolved around and left it collapsing once they were gone. Humans surely weren’t capable of loving anyone with that kind of depth, were they? Not with their flawed design.

“Dear Jane, please go and see what’s taking them so long?” Aro requested. Jane gave him a sugar sweet smile in response, kissed Alec’s cheek and floated gracefully down the steps and towards the door. Alec watched her go before returning to his thoughts, the conundrum still fresh in his mind, but Aro did not let him remain there, a drawn out sigh escaping him as he steepled his fingers to rest his chin on his hands.

“Something bothers you, Master?” he asked, tilting his head. Maybe he was having similar thoughts and they could brainstorm together. Aro stared at the doors ahead of them, his expression completely impassive. Alec was treated with the deference his gift and status demanded but out of them two of them, he knew Jane would always be the favourite, and he was okay with that. He would serve loyally as long as he lived, grateful for all the Masters’ had given him, but he did not need to be valued in the way Jane did.

“I hope Edward does nothing foolish. He would be a great asset to our little household.” Aro responded. Alec kept his face impassive, mind immediately turning now to the tactical advantage telepathy could offer. Edward’s gift was indeed powerful in its own way, to hear over great distances would compliment Demetri’s tracking ability well and override Felix’s tendency to impulsively use his brute strength without identifying priority targets first…

“Undoubtedly.” Alec agreed. Aro chuckled slightly.

“Your mind is preoccupied Alec, perhaps you ought focus it?” he suggested lightly. Alec forced back an eye roll, inclining his head to indicate he had heard him before stepping down from his place beside his throne. He retraced his sister’s footsteps, following the main hall along until he reached the secretary’s desk. Gianna glanced up, standing to greet him with the professionally polite smile she was obliged to give him, even though her heart was thundering in her chest.

“Have the others returned yet?” he questioned. Gianna shook her head.

“No Alec, they have yet to come back this way.” She answered. Alec hummed thoughtfully, engaging his senses and straining his ears to listen to the stumbling footsteps approaching. There were the usual graceful taps of his sister’s dainty steps, the tell-tale smoothness of vampires moving along stone, but the clumsy thudding that followed was definitely human in origin. What cause did they have to bring humans back into their home? That was Heidi’s job after all, and she would be returning home soon enough to slake their thirst.

“But Bella I don’t-“

“Just…not now.”

Bella? Isabella? The human mate? Now that perked his interest. Alec watched with keen eyes as the doors slid open to reveal his siter first, and a brigade of people behind her. Felix and Demetri brought up the rear as Gianna greeted Jane with the same professional courtesy she had him, the golden-eyed Cullen’s following along behind her. The two humans they had brought with them were corralled between them. One clung to Edward like a barnacle to the underside of a ship, spindly arms thrown around him despite her chattering teeth and goosebump riddled flesh. She was quite ordinary in appearance, plain even, yet the way Edward stood made it abundantly clear that this human was something extraordinary to him, something he would protect. The other was...oh how to describe her?

She captivated him almost immediately, Alec unable to take his eyes off of her approach. Was she always that pale or had the situation leeched the colour from her face? Was she always so wide-eyed or was it fear that had blown those (Y/E/C) irises wide open? She was smaller in stature than the other, yet similar enough looks wise it was clear they were siblings, one older one younger. She was perhaps his physical age with all the wide-eyed innocence that entailed, gangly limbs she hadn’t really grown into yet carrying her along with a bit of encouragement from Felix’s proximity, and the Cullen woman’s guiding hand.

“Sister, they send you out for one and you bring back three, such a clever girl.” He teased, Jane’s scent invading his nose and helping refocus his mind. Her eyes rolled, but she still embraced him as she always did with a trill of laughter to boot.

“They made it all to easy.” She responded. Alec could see the malice in his sister’s eyes and guessed that she was not appreciative of having to wait for the humans. It irked him more than it should, that the young girl had potentially unintentionally incurred his sister’s wrath, the mere notion that perhaps Jane’s thoughts of her were less than savoury something that made every protective instinct he had ever had for his sister flare and extend to this stranger.

“Edward, you seem in a markedly better mood.” He said, hoping to distract himself from the sudden, unnerving discovery.

“Marginally.” the mind-reader agreed, though his voice was blunt and cutting. Clearly Edward was not in the mood to talk.

“But Alice I still don’t know-“

“Shhh Y/N, not now.” Alice Cullen, the seer that Aro had raved about from the moment he had learned of her existence. Alec should have been interested in her, should have been evaluating her as a threat and a potential ally, but his mind had been thoroughly distracted by the small human once more. Y/N…it was a good name, a name that felt pleasant in his ears and rolled easily off of the tongue.

“But Alice-“ the urgency in her voice tore at his heart and Alec had the strange urge to comfort her. Did she truly know nothing? If she knew nothing of their kind she had broken no law and there was no reason to put her through any of this, it was unnecessary suffering.

“Is this the cause of all the trouble?” he asked, unable to keep the scepticism from his voice as he took in her unremarkable sibling. Isabella seemed to shiver under his stare (much to his amusement) though it was the younger girl whose reaction he was more interested in. Her head turned his way, (Y/C/H) hair swishing with the movement as wide (Y/C/E) eyes latched onto his own and refused to let go. The scent that was wafted up his nose was almost unbearably tantalising, the controlled burn in his throat flaring to a raging inferno that he almost choked on for a moment before he caught himself. Edward’s stare was penetrating, Alice Cullen tightening her grip on the young girl in her care in case he made a move. He swallowed back the fire but there was no hiding the way his eyes had melted to black, and the sweet tinge of fear in her already too appealing smell only made him want to give into his urges all the more.

He hadn’t realised he’d taken a step towards her until she flinched back from him, and for the first time in a long time Alec felt genuine pain. The fear on her face was obvious, the rampant thudding in her chest tangible proof that she was terrified, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it and he didn’t like that he didn’t like it because she was just human, flawed and breakable and pathetic so why oh why did it pain him so to see the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes?

“Y-your eyes…they just – your eyes just…Bella what did you get me into?” her voice wavered and something inside him just snapped. For once, Alec didn’t feel the apathy that came with taking a life seen as less valuable than his own, he didn’t take any sort of joy in watching her be afraid of his advance. He couldn’t deny it, not when the feeling was so deeply rooted and burned so fiercely, like a flower that been laid dormant beneath the Earth suddenly bursting from the soil to bloom brightly. He was protective of this human he barely knew, and it was terrifying to feel so connected to someone he had never met before.

“I mean you no harm, I give you my word.” The promise had escaped him before he had really thought it through and he was well aware he could not keep such a promise, but she didn’t care to hear it anyway, cringing even more into Alice since Bella seemed to refuse her in that moment. It only made him angrier. He was angry with himself for suddenly losing the emotional control he had gained over a long millennium of living, angry that he was making promises he couldn’t keep, and he was angry at the stares he was receiving from those he would call friend. Jane looked the most outwardly shocked before she quickly covered, but the one person he would have hoped would react positively just didn’t. Y/N was too afraid to see sense, and he supposed given the pie-crust promise he’d just made that might be a good thing, even if it hurt. He was angry to that her sister ignored her obvious need for comfort.

He let his sister take the lead as they headed back to the throne room, trying to fight through the sudden swell of confusing emotion and sensory information. His nose seemed attuned to her scent, suspiciously close to his favourite smells of lemongrass and gooseberry, his eyes magnetised to her form to the point he turned his head to glance back at her so frequently that Demetri felt the need to motion for him to keep his head turned forward. Humans radiated heat anyway but she felt scorching, a mini-sun whose tendrils reached out and left warmth lashing down his spine. His ears were full of her heartbeat. She was so thoroughly distracting he could barely take his eyes off of her after he had taken his place by Caius, the blonde man staring with such distaste at the both of them that Alec felt a strong urge to step between them and absorb the glare himself.

He could only half pay attention as the conversation unfolded around him, because Y/N wouldn’t stop looking at him like he was the devil incarnate and it bothered him immensely. He had dealt with it his whole life, a social pariah for his links to witchcraft and someone whose gift left him with few friends since they feared the authority it gave him. He had handled it then, and he handled it now, he could deal with other people looking at him like that but not her, anyone but her.

“Alec!” Jane hissed his name and Alec snapped to attention, mist unfolding from his palms so he was ready to take down any threat that came at him. Demetri snickered loudly enough it reached his ears and Alec’s glare was so deadly it drew a soft whimper from her. He almost groaned. Could he do no right by her? Y/N had started trembling a while ago but now there were full body shakes wracking her from head to foot, her teeth grinding together so loudly he worried the teeth might snap under the strain she was putting on them. Aro’s laughter clattered through his head and he turned to face him, at a loss as to what to do for once. He didn’t honestly think that he could hurt the girl if asked.

“My dear boy it would seem you are quite distracted by young Miss Swan. Oh to be young and in love once more!” he tittered. Alec froze, every muscle locking in place as the distinct feeling of distress rose through the confusion and anger and pain he’d been desperately trying to wade through. Love? He definitely did not love the girl, it was mere curiosity and nothing else, the same curiosity he applied to his studies.

“Love?” Jane’s voice was equally as harsh and Aro seemed surprised by her reaction. Alec was not. For centuries they had had only each other, the centre of a small world where they seldomly let others join them. The very notion another might be welcomed into his heart would be not just repulsive, but very troubling for her.

“Why, don’t tell me you cannot see it? Already the bond between them has set, the thread connecting them tied at both ends. Are you not happy for your twin to have found such a rare and beautiful thing?” Aro wondered. As if Aro had perhaps waved a magic wand his mind settled. His brain had tried to fight what his body already knew, his subconcious screaming the word while his rational mind raced a million miles ahead to try and outrun the answer until it could run no more, and the two collided. The aftermath of the explosion was calm, almost wonderous, for he would finally get the chance to study something he had never studied before.

“You’re my mate.” He breathed. Even he could hear the awe in his voice, though nobody but him seemed to find it wonderful. Jane hissed, both Cullen’s tensing up while Bella recoiled from her sister like she was diseased, and Y/N…Y/N just cried. Alec’s world ground to a halt, the pain his mate spilling out and into him. He descended the stairs with every intention of stopping her tears, hoping to calm her perhaps and explain exactly what it meant to be mates, but Y/N didn’t let Bella refuse her this time and sought refuge in her sister, sobbing all the while.

“Wh-what did you do! Why d-did you bring me h-here? I d-don’t want to st-stay with him!”

The words were a hard blow, they struck him in the gut and it was the closest he’d felt to nauseous in centuries.

“I have no desire to keep you here, but if you would please-“

“Leave me alone! I w-want to go home!” she cried, not so much as turning to look at him. If he hadn’t been a vampire he would probably have missed all of the muffled words she heaved into her sisters shoulder.

“You can still go home yet-“ he had paid enough attention to know Bella was not being executed at least and as his mate Y/N was exempt of that fate to, “-all I would like is a chance to talk.” Alec’s plea fell on deaf ears, his hand shrugged off of her shoulder.

“No!”

Alec straightened, wiping his face of any and all expression, he didn’t so much as give any of them a farewell before he left the room. The sudden rejection stung worse than the fire that had once burned his flesh from his bones, and the hollow that opened in his gut grew wider and wider with every moment that passed since the second he’d left her. He put down his books, spending his nights envisioning her tear-stained face and wondering what would have made her smile instead. He craved to know every like and dislike, to hear her voice when she wasn’t consumed with horror and fear, to learn more about her life and contrast it with his own. They had all tried to talk him round in the intervening months, but Alec couldn’t find the strength to drag himself out of the numbness that had enveloped him. Not until Marcus came by to see him anyway.

“What do you require of me, Master?” he asked, staring aimlessly out of the window at the Garden’s below. Marcus seated himself at the desk across the room, the one littered with books Alec hadn’t had the heart to open since the fateful day his mate had left him.

“Didyme was not immediately drawn to me either.” He rasped. Alec’s head whipped around at that, the shock on his face obvious. Marcus had been nothing but a shell in all the time he had known him, grieving a lost love so profound Alec was sure that their story must have been the greatest romance ever known. To hear Didyme had not readily accepted him was both astounding and…it gave him hope.

“She didn’t?” he hedged. Marcus glanced to him, a wisp of smile floating from his lips before his expression fell flat again.

“She was a headstrong woman, and for a while she resented Aro for what he did to her, to me. She could not revel in her new state as we did, this world was so different from the one she had known…it took time for her to adjust before she truly opened her heart to me.” His words were like a soothing balm on the raw wound her rejection had left behind.

“I might find it more encouraging if I was sure I might yet see her again.” Alec frowned slightly as Marcus pushed to his feet.

“There will be opportunity enough to visit her yet, you might yet be surprised.” He answered, floating from the room like dust on the wind. Alec stared at the door, his mind mulling over the cryptic message before the briefest hint of a smile twitched his lips upward. Hope was a beautiful thing, and it only grew in his chest as Aro deployed them to Seattle not a day later to deal with a mess created by a gaggle of newborns. When stressed, vampires did not fidget but rather became motionless and immobile, but while he sat rigid as stone in his seat for the flight over his mind became restless. Where would he find her in this city? If Marcus’s cryptic message had been for him then surely he knew he would find Y/N here? Demetri’s hand on his arm made him pause before he stepped off of the jet.

“She’s in the city Alec, if you need a guide.” His voice was low enough nobody but him would hear him. Alec fully planned to take him up on the offer once their work for the night was done, it wasn’t often the tracker was rendered unnecessary, but Alec didn’t need Demetri’s gift to know when he had found her.

Her sobbing was ingrained in his memory after all.

The rage that built in him was blinding, his body unable to move fast enough to put himself between Y/N and the newborns dragging her mangled body from the wreckage of a car they had flipped. All around him was the screaming and snarling of newborns, the metallic screech of hardened skin coming apart as they put an end to the atrocity. His mist had exploded outward, rippling in every direction and he had only just enough sense of mind to ensure it didn’t harm his coven mates as he tore apart the newborns who had dared lay a hand on his mate. Chest heaving and throat blazing, Alec felt the blood on the ground soak his trousers as he collapsed beside her. She was screaming, body contorting in awful ways as her face turned red, veins popping in her neck as it strained. Alec placed a cool hand shakily on her forehead, beyond furious with the grotesque bitemark marring her shoulder.

“What were you thinking brother! Now that we have destroyed this group we – we…oh…oh Alec…” the rage that simmered in Jane’s voice very quickly dissipated when she saw the state he was in. His head was swimming, the appealing scent of blood hanging heavy in the air while his gut twisted and fury and terror raged war in his heart. She was turning, there was no doubt about it, the venom was leaking out of the wound with her blood. She was turning and it wasn’t his venom.

“I – I can take away the pain.” He stammered. He had wanted someone to do that for him when he burned. It was the greatest act of mercy he could think of, perhaps the greatest way for him to show his love for a girl he barely knew but wanted to oh so badly.

“You will starve yourself before she completes the transformation. There is hardly enough venom in that bite Alec.” Felix pointed out. Y/N let out another tortured shriek, body twisting. He heard the broken bones in her legs crunching at the movement and said a silent prayer to thank whatever deity was watching over her that the venom was excruciating enough she wouldn’t have to feel broken bones on top of it.

“So what do I do? Leave her like this? She’s in agony!” he snapped, “She’s in agony and I can end it!”

“It is a natural thing brother.” Jane said quietly.

“But it does not have to be endured forever.” Demetri weighed in finally, “Give her some more Alec, shorten the process and if you find yourself unable to stop…well, we will stop you.” Alec could only give her an anguished stare, loathe to cause her anymore pain but knowing Demetri was right. The longer the change dragged on for the less likely it was she would survive, but if he bit her again, gave her more of his venom to override what little was already diffusing through her blood, it would shorten the process considerably. He could already feel the acidic liquid pooling in his mouth and he hoped she could see just how apologetic he was, though he didn’t think it likely given how her eyes had rolled back into her head as she convulsed with a shout.

“Stop me Jane, forget our oath this one time and do whatever it takes to stop me.” He demanded. Jane looked horrified by the very thought but Alec didn’t wait for her to consent to his plea, cradling Y/N close and closing his eyes as he bared his teeth, ready to bite into the buttersoft sinews of her throat…

“What are you thinking about so hard?” her voice was melodic in his ears, a symphony he never grew tired of. Startled from his reverie, Alec had to pause a moment to gather his thoughts and remind himself where he was. Volterra was bathed in sunshine once more and his skin refracted it beautifully against the walls of the garden, the book in his lap long since discarded as his mind began to wonder. It had been a while, since he’d recalled that fateful night.

“You’re back,” he noted with a small smile, “I was thinking about you of course, as I always do when you’re not around.” Her smile could have lit up New York city, and Alec adored it. Y/N hadn’t been happy upon waking up in Volterra, Alec by her side as he quietly explained she had been made immortal in desperate circumstances. It had taken her many months to get over the traumatic incident but since she had started to bounce back to her old self, Alec had discovered a rather beautiful, happy person he really rather liked. Since she had been forced to spend so much time with him, letting him coach her in the new way of life she had to adopt, she had taken quite a liking to him to it seemed.

“You should be proud of me, I got to the nomad before Demetri so we all got to come home sooner. You should have seen his face!” She giggled. Alec couldn’t help but smirk, smug and proud as he pulled her down to rest between his legs, back pressed flush to his chest. Her scent dragged him under, a tranquil wave settling those restless parts of him that recognised how incomplete he felt without her around. He buried his nose in her hair to take a deep lungful of the addictive smell.

“I’m always proud of you.” He promised softly.

“Have you just been reading all the time we’ve been gone?” she wondered. Alec hummed, picking up the book he had discarded and reopening to the page he was on.

“It was the one you recommended to me. I’ve just gotten to the chapter where Sephy realises Callum is one of her kidnappers.” He revealed, and without hesitation he dropped his cheek atop her hair and began to read aloud. She melted into him, her hands mindlessly reaching for the ground every now and then while Alec focused his energy on his book, the peaceful atmosphere remaining unbroken for a chapter more before she shifted. He relinquished her immediately, knowing his mate was never one to stay still for too long, only to be surprised when she turned on her knees with a ring of daisies in her hand. Alec raised an eyebrow and she grinned.

“I hereby declare you King Alec of Castle Volterra!” she announced. The daisy crown was placed daintly atop his head, only to fall and get stuck on the bridge of his nose. Too big to be a crown but too small to be a necklace. Her face fell into a pout as Alec began to laugh, very gently rearranging the daisies so they rested at an angle and were slightly weighted down by some of his brunette hair.

“I, King Alec, declare I cannot rule without you, Queen Y/N,” he proclaimed, offering her his hand. She giggled as he pushed to his feet, pulling her with him. She was forever going to be shorter than him, just a little, and he loved that. “Now, as our first royal duty, that dye you ordered came. I decree it’s time to give our guard matching uniforms!” He was bolstered by her obvious enthusiasm, crimson eyes sparkling.

“It came? The neon green one?” she asked eagerly. Alec nodded, unable to keep his laughter at bay as she bounced up and kissed him so quickly she almost broke his teeth with the speed she moved at. He didn’t get to voice his protest because she was already dragging him by the hand back towards the castle. Before he had met her, schemes like this would have made his nose turn up in distaste. How childish these endeavours were, how wasteful of their time. Y/N had changed his perspective on a great many things, and it was rather nice now and then to give into the childish ways his physical age demanded he give in to every now and then, he had gotten so good at repressing those throughout the centuries but she seemed to bring out the playful side of him. If anything had managed to convince Jane she was a good addition to their family, it was tallying how much more Alec had smiled since she came into his life to stay.

“I can pilfer the shirts, they’re far less likely to suspect I am up to any wrong doing than if they smell you in their rooms.” Alec pointed out in hushed tones. She nodded, her head tilted up as they walked close together, co-conspirators to anyone looking in.

“Okay, you steal the shirts while I mix the-“

“Mix the what, exactly?” Demetri’s voice came from behind them and with wide eyes Y/N yelled ‘Scatter!’ before the tracker had the chance to grab either of them by the collar. Alec bolted after her down the corridor, just ever so slightly lagging behind her since she still had her newborn strength and speed. She grabbed his wrist without warning and Alec felt Demetri’s hand swipe right through his head before she tugged him straight through a wall and they began to freefall into the courtyard below. Demetri was cursing up a storm inside, her gift having turned them both immaterial long enough to allow them to pass through the walls in a way he couldn’t. Collapsing in a fit of boisterous laughter the pair lingered in the sunlight, eyes bright and smiles wide. For a moment, anyone passing them by might have forgotten their glittering skin and vibrant red eyes, mistaking them for two normal teens experiencing the euphoria of puppy love.

“Did you see his face!” she gasped. Alec could only smile at her, hand reaching to tuck a lock of stray hair behind her ear so he could have an unobstructed view of her face. Her smile faded slightly, expression growing more sheepish instead.

“I was too busy looking at yours. I think I would like to spend every day I have looking at your face over his. I love you Y/N, at least, I think this is what love feels like.” His brows furrowed, the confession falling from his tongue without his permission. He wondered if perhaps it was too soon, too big a word to label the affection they held for one another, but seeing the way her face lit up told him otherwise.

“Pinky swear it, Alec. If you don’t pinky swear it’s not real.” She said, holding out her hand. Alec rolled his eyes but looped his pinky through hers, cementing his promise with all the binding legality the pinky swear had to offer.

“I swear it Y/N. I’m forever yours.”  

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #alec volturi fanfiction #volturi fanfiction #alec volturi #jane volturi #felix volturi #demetri volturi x reader #alec volturi x reader #we all know he's a soft boi #deep deep down #and a bookworm

[wonunuu]

retrouvailles ❦ s2

eleven:

(unedited)

Wonwoo puts his phone in his back pocket and takes long quiet strides to where the waking girl was layed. He stands frozen on the bed side and stares as Yeojin stirs awake. Not getting up, she opens her rubs eyes and sees Wonwoo. He observes her next moves, but she does nothing but stare.

Wonwoo, clueless on what to do next, stares back at her fidgeting with his hands. "Are you awake?" he asks like it isn't obvious, but responds with a nod. "Do you need to empty your bladder? I-I mean wee?" He inquires as he cautiously reaches out his arms hoping she would accept. He was relieved when she put her arms out, signaling her father that she wants to be carried. Wonwoo smiles at her action and carefully places his hands under her arms, lifting her up and placing her on his side. Wonwoo then puts his other hand on her back for support, and she wraps her legs around his torso, clinging onto him. Like that, he carries her to the bathroom. Once she was finished, she washes her hands and runs to the living room, Wonwoo following behind.

"What do you want to do?” Wonwoo tries to make conversation but disappointed when he was given no answer. “Do you want to play with me?” He tries again. She doesn’t hear him, actually she is ignoring him. Wonwoo clears his throat as he thinks of ways he could get her attention. 

“Do you want to play a game of tag, Yeojin? Your mama told me you love to play that game... I also like to play that game. Shall we play one round?” He coaxes. Instantly, Yeojin’s ears perched up at the mention of tag, her full front teeth now on display. “You’re the tagger, Wonu!” She giggles, as she starts to run away from Wonwoo who pretends to be shocked. 

"You better start running Yeo-Yeo! Papa's gonna catch you!" 

Disbelief. That's what you feel when you walk in your apartment Wonwoo and Yeojin had made: pillows and blankets on the living room floor, book and toys scattered everywhere, chocolate wrappers on the floor—it looks like a hurricane passed here. You take a deep breath, then head to the kitchen to put your groceries away. Luckily, they knew better than to mess with your kitchen. 

After putting the groceries away, you wash your hands and head to Yeojin’s room. On the bed, Wonwoo’s long body is sprawled and his feet hanging off. Yeojin is laying beside him, head resting on his arm as she earnestly listens to the book Wonwoo is reading. “Have you seen Nemo?” he reads her. You let out a laugh at his “Dori” voice imitation, which inarguably sucked. Both lift their head up at the sound of your laugh. Yeojin gets up from where she was laying to greet you with a hug. “That was the worse Dori imitation I have ever heard,” you tease. “Hey! That was my first time. Give me more time to practice, then I’ll show you Dori.” You laugh at his profound proclamation. 

You turn your attention to your daughter who was playing with your hair. “Did you have fun with Wonwoo, my love?” 

"Yes! We played tag and I won! He also slipped on my toy." She pouts, clearly feeling bad about Wonwoo's misfortune. You glance at Wonwoo and see him looking at your child dearly, lips almost reaching his ears.

In his mind, he repeats his biggest regret: leaving you. If he didn't leave, if he stayed, he would've been with you while you were pregnant with your little bean, the result of your love. He would've read books to her while she listened in your tummy. He would've been able to feel her kick in your tummy and hear her heartbeat when you went to your checkups. He would've been there when she was born. Oh how he regrets not being able to witness her first step, her first word, her first tooth—her first everything. He imagines how you would've been a family. But there is no point in beating himself up about it now, what matters is that he's with her, and he's going to make up with everything he missed by giving her all his love.

"Is that so? Did you ask if he's okay? If he's got any scratch-

You were cut off by Wonwoo's phone ringing. “Sorry. Let me just take this.” He takes his phone out of his pocket and answers the call. You caress Yeojin’s cheeks as you wait for Wonwoo to finish with his call. 

After a few seconds, he hangs up. He apologizes and tells you that he needs to go. You tell him it’s okay and that he can come again when he can or bring Yeojin to their dorm.

"Okay. Baby, Wonwoo needs to go now, but you'll play again next time, right?" You tell Yeojin.  "Bye Wonu!" She gives him a kiss and hug.

"Bye Yeo-Yeo! We'll see again next time alright?" The little one nods.

"Thank you again Y/N." You nod and wave him goodbye as he leaves out the door. 

💌 reunion (eng) - the happiness of seeing someone again after a long time.

⤷ happiness? are reunions always happy though? when you are reunited with someone you want to see the least, does it make you happy?

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hi everyone!! sorry i've been mia for a min,, school is really taking up a lot of my time and i haven't been able to go on my socials a lot and it seems like it might be like that from now on 😕 but i'll try to update as much as i can so yeah just pls be patient w me lmaoo ya girl's a lil busy or wtv

tags:

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#seventeen #seventeen texts #seventeen fluff #seventeen social media au #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen sm au #seventeen au #seventeen wonwoo #svt #svt au #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt texts #svt sm au #svt social media au #svt!dad #svt wonwoo #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #wonwoo x you #seventeen x reader

[spartanguard]

a wee bit sweaty

just a bit of smuff inspired by a certain someone being a thirst trap on instagram today. it *was* going to be PWP but then ~feelz~ happened. enjoy!

It was a little surprising, at first, when Killian took to boxing so quickly. Emma had figured he might take up running or crossfit, or something a little bit more like whatever it was he did in his sailing past. But she supposed fighting was as much a part of being a pirate as pillaging, and she was willing to bet it meant he took out his annoyance on the bag rather than whichever dwarf was pissing him off that day.

He had set up a punching bag in the shed and would usually head out there for an hour or so in the evenings to wind down from the day, and then would slip upstairs for a shower before dinner. It was rare she caught him before he cleaned up—something about “You wouldn’t want to see me all putrid and disgusting like that, Swan”—but the few times she did, usually bearing a cold glass of water, she had to beg to differ with his assessment. 

Brushing his sweaty fringe from his face, and seeing the way his now-wet tshirt clung to his skin? She couldn’t find anything to complain about there. (Especially not with the way his muscles looked after a workout, and how toned they were getting in general. Because damn. Even her dad had noticed.)

Honestly, she was getting tired of him running off and not giving her a chance to appreciate his hard work. Besides, shouldn’t he be rewarded for it? And she was pretty sure she knew of a way to make both of those things happen.

So, on the first muggy day they got that spring, she decided enough was enough. He’d had to break up not one, but three dwarven disputes that day, and spent longer than usual releasing his frustrations in the shed. She was patient, though. 

Like she’d done in the past, she greeted him when he came in the back door with a glass of ice water, which he downed almost immediately. She took the opportunity to watch the way the lingering sweat was dripping down his jaw and neck, the cords of which were on full display as he quenched his thirst. 

When the glass was mostly empty, he sighed, and the movement of his chest under the fabric stretched across it was mesmerizing. And then he brushed the sweat from his face with his left arm, highlighting the even tauter stretch of the sleeve against his bulging bicep. It didn’t even look comfortable. She should probably try to get it off of him ASAP.

“Ahem,” he said, breaking her from her reverie. “Looks like you need a drink yourself, love; I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so thirsty.” The smirk on his face told her wasn’t talking about water.

“Positively parched,” she replied, then fisted the sweaty fabric of his shirt in her hands and dragged his lips down to hers in a searing kiss.

He pulled her close with his free arm—his right hand still holding the glass—and pulled her back toward him, countering her aggressive first move. She could feel his sweat seeping onto her tank top from his stomach, but didn’t care; neither of them would be dressed much longer, if she had her way.

Her hands drifted from his solid chest to his firm biceps, squeezing them as she continued to devour his mouth. She could feel his muscles moving under his warm skin as their weight shifted back and forth, and—oh, god, was he flexing just for her?

Cold reality washed over her a moment later and she yelped. Wait, no—that was cold water, which had been dumped on her by her husband. She was frozen—literally, or at least she felt like it—while he stood there chuckling, but she was more upset that she wasn’t feeling the rumble of his laugh through his breastbone than she was over the sliver of ice working its way down her back.

“Jerk,” she muttered, unconvincingly.

“You said you were thirsty,” he teased as he set the empty glass on the table.

“Not what I meant,” she tossed back, playfully slapping his pec—and leaving her hand there. “But, I guess, if my hair is already wet, I better hop in the shower to wash it, huh?”

“Well, that’s a conundrum,” he answered, stepping close enough that she could feel the heat rolling off of him. “Because I was just about to take one.”

“Oh damn,” she sarcastically complained. “Guess we’ll just have to share.”

A slow, devilish grin took over his face, and in one swift motion, he reached around her rear end and lifted her into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, then found her lips again—and didn’t break away until they were upstairs, in their bathroom. She gripped onto his shoulders as he carried her, but not out of fear—she had never felt more secure in his hold, in fact—but just so she could feel the strain in the muscles. 

When they reached the bathroom, he set her on the vanity counter and then pressed even closer; she sighed at the feeling of his arousal pressing against her own. “Damn,” she breathed, and grabbed his biceps yet again.

He didn’t reply; he just leaned his forehead against hers as he caught his breath (finally; he hadn’t quite yet, not since he’d come inside). Meanwhile, her fingers slid up over his shoulders, down the planes of his chest, and over his ticklish sides (being very careful not to agitate him) until she found the hem of his tshirt.

God, this was like unwrapping a present. She tucked her hands under the fabric, against his overheated skin, and began to pull up—first, revealing his stomach, firm and soft in all the right ways, but a little more solid than usual at the moment, a bit more definition of the muscles on either side of that trail of dark hair; then up across his chest, still heaving a bit, which only picked up when she dragged her fingers through its dusting of fuzz. 

He had to lean away when she reached his collarbones, but dutifully lifted his arms as she tugged the shirt up them. He disappeared into the black cotton for a moment, but then popped back out a moment later, his hair becoming adorably mussed and pointing in every which way. A few strands fell back into his eyes, though, which were a bit softer than they were earlier—but hadn’t lost the heat behind them.

She dropped the shirt and tried to scoot closer (which wasn’t even possible) as her eyes took in the full glory of Killian’s upper body: every dip of muscle, every freckle, every scar. Not that she hadn’t seen it before—not that it really looked all that different—but it all just showed how strong he was, and not just physically (even if that was particularly on display at the moment).

“What is it, love?” he asked quietly, drawing her gaze back to his face. 

“Just admiring the view,” she answered casually.

He smirked a bit—the kind he always got when his vanity was being stroked, the kind that cut a dimple into that scruff—but it turned into a soft smile quickly. “That’s not all, though—is it?”

God, he could always read her so well. “It’s just…” She sighed. “This is gonna sound ridiculous, but when I see and feel these—” she gripped his biceps (again) for emphasis “—and see how strong you are, muscularly, it’s like...it’s a reflection of how I see you all the time: you’re the strongest guy, emotionally or mentally or whatever, that I’ve ever known, and I always know I’m safe in your arms.”

She glanced away; she still wasn’t great at the whole expressing-feelings thing (even if she had come miles from where she started) and that was...that was deep. But he guided her chin back up with his blunted wrist, where she saw nothing but the purest love shining in his eyes. 

“And I hope you always do, my love, even if there comes a day these arms aren’t so solid. But they’ll always be able to hold you.”

She had no words to reply to that, but none were needed. She just found his lips with hers, and they moved as one after that. 

In no time at all, they had both shed their clothes (with the appropriate amount of ogling and caressing of favored body parts), gotten the shower to the right temperature, and stepped into the spray. The water alone wasn’t enough to clean Killian, but there’d be time for that later; right now, they were content to be wrapped up in each other, lined up from tip to toe, the heat of the water amplifying the warm, musky scent that she’d come to identify as purely Killian. 

Every slight move sent a jolt of excitement through Emma, from the innocent knocking of knees to the arousing brush of her nipples against the hair over his firm pecs to the almost incendiary press of his erection against her core, made all the more sensual by the constant rain of water droplets over their increasingly flushed skin.

And after the appropriate amount of foreplay—which, in this situation, wasn’t much—he held her thigh in his sure grip, she grasped onto his shoulders, and he slid into her, filling her perfectly like always. She let out a sigh of relief at first, but then he started to move, and it was all she could do to anchor herself to him; thank god the dips his collarbones perfectly fit her thumbs.

They started gentle, the tiniest of thrusts bringing gentle friction to her inner walls, taking their time to build their speed, until the pressure coiling in her stomach was too much to bear and she urged him on. Faster and longer and higher they climbed until she came with a gasp, a tingling sensation spreading over her body as her climax washed over her in time with the water that was doing the same.

Her head fell to Killian’s shoulder and he wasn’t far behind, thrusting a few more times until he said her name in a ragged voice and stilled alongside and within her, probably bruising her thigh with how hard he was holding but she didn’t care; how could she in this moment of pure bliss?

He pulled out when he was done and they let the shower help them clean up before turning their attention to each other; eventually, the salty sweat was replaced by the scent of Emma’s favorite lavender body wash, and Killian’s fingers had massaged her scalp and detangled her tresses. 

And a few hours later, they were curled up in bed, on the edge of sleep, when Killian’s arms tightened around Emma. She rested her head on his chest—the perfect pillow, really—and snuggled in just a bit closer, her hand reaching for his opposite bicep to hold him close. She drifted off knowing she was in the safest place in the world.

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

thanks for reading! tagging some friends:  @kat2609​ @thesschesthair​ @optomisticgirl​ @xpumpkindumplingx​ @shipsxahoy​ @amortentia-on-the-rocks​ @mryddinwilt​ @cocohook38​ @annytecture​ @wingedlioness​ @word-bug​ @distant-rose​ @wellhellotragic​ @welllpthisishappening​ @let-it-raines​ @pirateherokillian​ @bleebug​ @its-imperator-furiosa​ @fergus80​ @killianmesmalls​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @ineffablecolors​ @laschatzi​ @ive-always-been-a-pirate​ @nfbagelperson​ @stubblesandwich​​ @killian-whump​​ @lenfaz​ @phiralovesloki​ @athenascarlet​ @kmomof4​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @snowbellewells​ @idristardis​ @scientificapricot​ @searchingwardrobes​

#cs ff #cs smut #cs smuff #my ff

[desperationandgin]

The Beat My Heart Skips (Market Price One-Shot)

Rating: General Audiences

Also Read On: Ao3

Summary: Jamie attempts to surprise his pregnant wife with the foods she craves.

A/N: From a prompt @smashing-teacups​ sent me like 8 months ago! This is also my dear BFF’s very BELATED birthday fic. ilu so much <3

I adjusted a little but I hope the spirit of the prompt lives on!

The Beat My Heart Skips

++

The texts from Claire had started at two in the afternoon while he was at Lallybroch, deep in planning the next few weekends’ worth of farmer’s market details.

Burgers for dinner? 😘

He’d replied he would pick them up from her newly-declared favorite place for burgers, and promised chips to go along with them. A half-hour later, the next message arrived.

thinking more about the pork rolls we had the other night.

He’d replied:

Instead of the burgers?

Think so. Sorry. Baby’s picky  🤷‍♀️

It made him smile, swiping to the home screen only to see the latest in his growing collection of photos featuring Claire’s belly. The bump was only clearly visible when she was unclothed, but it was there, a swelling proof of life, and he’d found he could stare, stroke, and murmur to that growing roundness for hours on end. He’d finally responded with a quick dinna fash and assumed that would be the end of it.

He was wrong. The next messages had come in rapid succession, mildly alarming until he could read them.

I think pizza would be better

Remember the burritos we had at Mazama?

Jamie, I don’t know what your child wants…

Kebabs??

Would you like to contribute an idea?

Thumb hovering over the phone, he’d tried to decide if he should pick one thing from her list, or offer something completely different. He’d decided, in the end, to go with a solid favorite.

Thai noodles, Sassenach?

The three telltale bubbles had appeared, then dropped, then appeared again before another text came through from his wife.

That sounds good too.

It was the ‘too’ that convinced him of what needed to be done.

You only need to be prepared with an appetite when I’m home. 5p. No later.

Now, he’s sitting in the passenger seat of his sister’s mini-van while Jenny drives.

“How many places is it, total?” she asks, glancing over.

Scrolling on his phone, he counts aloud. “Six. No, seven. I need more ice cream.”

“Alright, weel, we have to be strategic about it. Ice cream last, obviously. Then I’ll just drop ye back at yours and both of ye can come over tomorrow for Sunday supper. We’ll finish the plannin’ then, ye get your car, all done.”

Jamie looks over at his sister, impressed. “Thought it all out, have ye?”

“If you take a pregnant woman hot, fresh food that’s been left to steam in its containers only tae go soft and damp, she’ll throw it at yer heid. Trust me.”

He snorts. “Should I ask Ian?”

“He’ll no’ bring me soggy chips again, I’ll tell ye that much.” Jenny pats her own very round belly. “Learned wi’ the last bairn.”

Suitably impressed (and making mental notes he never knew he needed), they make a plan beginning with pizza and ending with a very quick stop inside a corner shop for two containers of Neapolitan. By 4:45, Jamie’s outside of his home, hands loaded with takeout bags. Leaning down into the open car window, he holds up his bounty.

“Thank ye, truly. I owe ye, Jen.”

She waves him off. “Ye’ll babysit soon enough.” Her face softens, though, and she meets his gaze. “Da would be proud. Mam, too.”

Lowering his head, Jamie swallows, but when he looks up again, there’s a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I always hope, but hearing it from you, especially, is important.”

“Why me?” she asks as he steps back.

“On account of ye bein’ the wee ball-buster in the family,” he teases fondly, thanking her again before watching her drive safely away. Juggling bags and keys, Jamie lets himself into the house, calling out.

“Sassenach?”

“In here,” she calls from the living room, and he ducks into the kitchen.

“Stay there, I have a surprise for ye. And dinnae try to peek, ye’re no’ verra sneaky anyway,” he says in return. As he sets everything up along their counter, buffet style, he can hear her moving about.

“I assume this surprise is in regards to food,” she deducts.

“Always kent ye should ha’ been a detective,” Jamie smirks, able to hear her huff from the other room. “I’m almost done, ye can bide a second longer.”

“One,” she says pointedly. “Your child is starving.”

“I’ve noticed ye tend to refer to the bairn only as mine when ye cannae make your mind up about something.”

Her voice is closer when she speaks. “That’s because you’re stubborn,” Claire retorts, standing directly out of sight.

“Oh, am I the only one?” he asks as he finishes by propping the pizza open. “I always thought ye were a relatively patient woman, Sassenach, until I got ye wi’ child.”

“I am bloody patient! It’s the only reason I haven’t stepped foot into the kitchen to throttle you yet.”

He can’t help but laugh silently for a moment, drawing it out a few seconds longer before finally poking his head around the corner only to come face to face with her. “Alright, a nighean. Ye can come in.” Stepping aside, he watches as she enters, taking in the sight of her realizing what she’s seeing.

“I figured we could make a good go of it, and now we have plenty for tomorrow,” Jamie explains.

Claire stares at the bounty in front of her in stunned silence before looking up at her husband. “You went to all of these places?”

“Aye. Well, me and Jen. Ian was home and she was desperate to get out of the house for a bit anyway. So she drove me around, and now you and the bairn have whatever ye’d like. Including more ice cream.”

Too moved for a moment to say anything, she simply blinks at Jamie, afraid to open her mouth because she’s sure she’ll cry.

A good thing, then, that he knows to step forward, reaching out to rest his hands at her hips. “I wanted ye to have whatever you wanted, Sassenach.”

That does it: the flood gates open (because hell if she has any control over her hormones anymore) and she finds herself cradled to his chest. “I cannot believe you,” she mumbles into his shirt affectionately, arms looping around his waist.

“I do try to keep ye guessin’,” he murmurs into her hair, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

“Do you also plan on helping me eat all of this?” She pulls back after placing a soft kiss to his chest before getting a plate and trying to decide what to attack first.

“Oh, aye, I’ll be eating plenty. I’ve been eying a burrito since we picked them up,” he promises, having no intention of letting his wife eat alone. Pointing out the different varieties as she picks and chooses, he loads a plate for himself and takes it to the living room, settling with her leaning against the arm of the sofa sideways, legs across his lap.

Bringing a forkful of noodles to her mouth, she pauses to look at him. “Thank you, Jamie. For indulging me.”

Balancing his plate with one hand, the other squeezes her calf. “I figured if ye’re going through all the trouble of making a person, Sassenach, the least I can do is feed ye what ye want.”

When she smiles, it’s as though his entire soul flares with warmth, and it’s difficult to take his eyes from her.

Which is why he sees it the instant all color drains from her face. What happens next requires zero communication as she sits up, he takes her plate, and her legs swing from his lap. Within thirty seconds, she’s in their bathroom bending over the toilet, vomiting. Wincing in sympathy, Jamie simply stares for a moment at the two plates full of uneaten supper in his hands.

Putting the dishes on the coffee table, he rises and makes his way to the bathroom to join her, reaching out to hold her hair out of her face. “I’m sorry, a nighean.” Jamie’s always very aware that he’s the one who did this to her anytime she’s miserable, and it makes him regret being quite so boastful about it.

When her stomach finally calms, he stands with her and leans against the doorframe as she rinses with the mouthwash that is now a permanent fixture on the countertop instead of tucked away in the medicine cabinet.

And then he watches as she begins to cry, confusion making his forehead furrow, wondering what this new mood swing is and how to handle it. Reaching out for her, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her in an attempt to soothe as he rubs her back. “Dinna weep, lass,” he murmurs, more concerned as she clings to him tightly.

“Fuck, Jamie,” she manages, sniffling when she finally pulls back, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand.

“Likely no’ right now,” he tries to tease gently as he lifts a hand to stroke her cheek.

She doesn’t even react, simply chooses to ignore him and move on even as tears brim on her lashline. “I can’t eat any of that food right now.”

“I realized it soon as ye got up from the couch,” he points out, kissing her forehead.

“But you went to...Christ, how many places was it?” she asks as new guilt washes over her in an irrational wave. “And Jenny was with you,” she laments.

He doesn’t know how to fix this, exactly, and so he simply guides her by the hand to their bedroom to avoid the smell of various foods in the front of the house.

“Mo nighean donn, why would Jenny be put out? She’s been pregnant a dozen times, she kens how it goes,” Jamie points out gently.

“It was so thoughtful of you. I wanted to be able to enjoy your effort,” Claire admits as his arms encircle her.

“Ye still can when ye feel like eating. All of it will still be there, Sassenach. Doesna matter if we eat it this evening or tomorrow.”

“You aren’t annoyed?” she asks, knowing the answer but needing to hear it.

“Only at yer hormones, but no’ at you,” he promises with a kiss to her knuckles, over her wedding ring.

“Well, I’m annoyed at my hormones too,” Claire exhales, recovered now from the bout of tears but not the nausea as she lies down on the bed properly. “When your aunt called, she said being sick all the time is the sign of a boy.”

“Should ask Jen, she might have some light to shed on it, havin’ had both,” Jamie suggests as he lays propped on his side and pushes his hand under her shirt to lightly stroke her stomach.

Closing her eyes, she concentrates on the feel of his touch rather than the vertigo. “Do you want to find out what we’re having, or let it be a surprise?”

His fingers still for a moment before continuing as he ponders her question. “I never considered it. Does it matter to ye, for decorating and buying things?”

“Not particularly. There aren’t very many things that can truly be left a surprise in life.” She can’t help smiling at the idea of it, of not knowing until their child is in their arms.

The look on her face makes it clear her mind is set, and Jamie drops a kiss to her abdomen. “We’ll leave it a mystery then, Sassenach.”

“We’ll have to pick a name for either scenario,” she points out, taking deep breaths in and exhaling slowly as she wills away her symptoms. When Jamie doesn’t respond right away, she cracks one eye open only to find him lost in thought. A hand lands in his hair, gently scratching his scalp. “Where’d you go?”

He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. “I’m here,” he promises with another kiss. “I was only thinking...if it’d be alright wi’ ye...we could name the bairn after my da.” When he chances a glance up at her, his eyes are suspiciously damp.

If ever there is a key to getting her nausea to dissipate, it’s the sight of her husband’s vulnerability. Her hand shifts from his hair down his face to cradle his cheek. “Brian,” she murmurs, nodding her agreement. “And if it’s a girl?”

He’s quiet, ghosting his lips across her skin now, trying to will her hormones to settle for a while.

“Hmm. Weel, there’s always, simply, Brianna,” Jamie suggests.

Claire tries it on her tongue, adding a second name. “Brianna Ellen Fraser. Or Brian Henry Fraser. What do you think?”

Scooting up on the bed now, he pulls his wife close, needing to kiss her ring again, to say a silent prayer for the love of this woman. “That ye’d honor my parents that way, Claire-” It makes him more emotional than he would have ever imagined, the way his wife’s heart shows itself.

“I thought, since we’re having - what was it, ten by your last count? - since we’re having ten children, the second could be named after my parents,” she suggests, knowing it will happen now that she’s said it.

“It’ll no’ be ten if ye feel like this every time,” he says with equal parts concern and frustration that his wife simply can’t eat when she’d like.

“Jamie,” she murmurs, gliding her thumb across his jaw. “This amount of illness is normal. And it’s getting somewhat better. Today was unfortunate,” she allows, a hint of apology in her tone.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” he assures her as he sits up, leaning down to drop a kiss to her forehead before finally standing. “Now we have plenty for breakfast and lunch. If ye dinna mind noodles before ten in the morning.”

She chuckles, the waves of nausea somewhat less turbulent. “If my stomach can manage, then so will I.” But she already knows the noodles will never make it to morning. She’ll be awake at three in the morning, eating when her hunger finally kicks in.

“I’ll go and put everything away, then we’ll see if ye’ll do wi’ a bit of light reading,” he offers. He’ll also quickly eat while he isn’t in front of her.

“Reading in bed?”

“Aye, I’ll no’ make ye move,” he promises, reaching out to cradle her cheek before stepping back.

“Then you’ll know where to find me when you return,” she says lightly with a small, fond smile.

“Which is exactly where I want ye to be, incidentally.”

She chuckles, waving playfully at him to go. “I’m looking forward to reading your next pick.”

Before he can make it out of the room, she calls him back.

“Aye?”

She takes a moment to look him over, still in his jeans and button-down from the day, curls askew and his scruff just past its normal length.

“I’m very madly in love with you, you know.”

When he smiles he ducks his head, and the way his ears turn bright red makes her want to laugh in sheer delight of him.

“That’s verra good, Sassenach. On account of I happen to be mad wi’ love for ye myself.”

“You’d better go, before you say something very Jamie Fraser and make me cry,” she warns with a more playful smile at the end.

He can’t help doubling back, this time to kiss the soft round apple of Claire’s cheek before nuzzling it with the tip of his nose.

“I’ll bring ye back a ginger ale.”

When he finally leaves her to rest, Jamie puts everything away in record time - except for the noodles. He places them in a separate container and sets it in the fridge with a sticky note on top.

For the bairn xx

#outlander #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #outlander fic #my fic #market price

[toddperrys]

With Love

After a game of fetch gone wrong, Korra ends up in the hospital and meets a nurse who cures her head and her heart.

Dear followers, today I offer you Korrasami. Tomorrow? Who knows. Set in a modern AU where Asami is a nurse and Korra is an idiot who always hurts herself. Requests are open!

Read it on AO3 Here

Korra woke to blinding lights and the piercing smell of latex and hand sanitizer. Her head was pounding and there was a high pitched ringing in her ears. She was laying in a bed of some sort; she could feel herself sinking into the mattress and make out guardrails on either side. 

“I think she’s waking up,” said a strange voice. Korra moved to find the source, but froze  when she was answered with a shooting pain in her shoulder. 

“Don’t move!” the voice said. A warm pair of hands guided her head back into place. “You need to stay still and rest, you took a pretty bad hit out there.”

Korra blinked against the light and her vision began to clear. Two nurses hovered above her, both in blue scrubs. The first was tall and slender, with cropped red hair and a ski-slope nose that reminded Korra of a cartoon poodle. The other had warm, forest-green eyes and dark waves tied back into a low ponytail. 

“What happened?” Korra asked. 

Even though the lower half of her face was covered by a mask, Korra could tell the dark-haired nurse was smiling by the twinkle in her eyes. “Your friends called us after you fell head-first into a rock.”

So that’s the voice I heard, Korra thought as she watched the nurse gather a stack of guaze from the steel cart beside her bed. 

“What friends called you?” she asked. 

The nurse came to Korra’s side and propped her up against the pillows. Korra winced in pain, but didn’t say anything. “Two guys, they seemed pretty worried about you,” she answered. 

All at once, Korra’s memory came flooding back. She, Mako, and Bolin had taken Naga to the park. Bolin brought a tub of tennis balls he’d originally bought for Pabu, who, to no one’s surprise, didn’t take to fetch. After a few turns of Naga chasing balls and returning them to Korra’s hand, she had an idea. 

“Why don’t you guys throw the balls and I’ll try and beat Naga to them?” Korra said. 

Mako raised an eyebrow, “You’re going to fetch?”

“Sure, it’s good exercise for Naga,” she replied, shrugging. Naga barked in agreement. 

“Okay then,” Mako sighed. He pulled a tennis ball from the bucket at Bolin’s feet and hurled it. “Go get it!”

Naga bolted ahead, Korra hot on her heels. She sped up, hoping to usurp Naga, but her enormous strides ensured her lead. The ball came into view, resting just fifteen yards ahead. With a sudden burst of energy, Korra plowed forward, passing Naga, but just as she was about to reach the ball, Naga launched herself forward. Korra felt an enormous weight collide with her side. Pain exploded at her temple as she hit the ground, and everything went dark. 

She was brought back to reality by a stinging sensation. 

“I’m changing your bandages,” the nurse explained. She turned to the redhead, who observed from the foot of the bed. “You can go ahead, Ginger, I got this one.”

With a silent nod, she exited the room, leaving Korra and the nurse alone. 

“I was racing my dog,” Korra said. 

The nurse hummed as she pulled a bloody rag soaked in alcohol from Korra’s forehead. “The guys that brought you in mentioned something about that,” she said. 

“They’re my roommates,” Korra corrected. “Mako is the tall one that sighs a lot and Bolin is his brother.”

“Ah,” the nurse answered. She lifted a gauze pad from a tray beside the bed and leaned towards Korra. “They are good friends for bringing you in. Bolin seemed pretty freaked out, I’m pretty sure he thought you were dead.”

Korra snorted and rolled her eyes, “Sounds like Bolin.”

The nurse smiled and fastened the pad just above Korra’s eye. “You should be taken care of,” she said, standing up from the bed. “I’ll be here if you need anything. Just ask for Asami, okay?”

Korra watched as Asami moved towards the door. Her inky hair shone blue under the fluorescents. “I’ll be sure to do that,” Korra said. 

Her eyes twinkled once more, and Korra drifted off to sleep at the sound of the door closing.

Asami returned several hours later carrying a tray of food. “I thought you might be hungry,” she said, sliding it onto Korra’s lap and pulling up a chair. A nurse had dropped by while Korra was sleeping and turned off the lights, bathing the room in darkness. 

“Thanks,” Korra answered. She took a bite only to be greeted by the mushy, bland taste of hospital meals.

Asami smiled apologetically, “It’s not great but it’s what we have.”

“I’ve had worse,” Korra assured her. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes as she devoured her dinner and Asami stared at her wound. 

“Do they need to be replaced again?” Korra asked when she noticed Asami’s gaze. 

“I think they’ll be okay for now,” Asami replied. She took the empty tray from Korra and set it aside. “How are you feeling?” she asked when she returned to her seat. 

Korra shrugged, “Alright. My head doesn��t hurt as much. It’s kind of gloomy in here, though.”

“It would probably help if you let some light in,” Asami said. She approached the window at the far side of the room and pushed the curtains aside. The sky beyond was bathed in a riot of purples and oranges overlaid with wispy, pink clouds. Asami’s face was cast in a soft, golden glow, illuminating her emerald eyes and tracing the lines of her features. Korra couldn’t take her eyes off her. 

“That’s much better,” she said, returning to her place beside Korra’s bed. 

Korra worried the bedsheets in her fingers. “Thanks for that. I can’t open them on my own.”

“You could’ve asked me to come get them for you,” Asami reminded her. 

“Right, I just forgot I guess,” Korra said. She let out a nervous laugh and felt her face heat up. 

The two went quiet. Korra finally lifted her eyes and found Asami gazing at her. Her eyes were gentle and inviting, and with a mere look Korra felt enveloped by warmth and comfort. It was as if the world’s roar came to a grinding halt, and it was just her and Asami, the only beings left on a kinder, quieter Earth. 

“You should be able to leave in the morning,” Asami said softly, breaking the silence. 

Suddenly, Korra was back in the gray-tinged scene of the hospital room. Outside, the sun was sinking below the horizon, and the brilliant array of colors was disappating into darkness. “Oh, right, leaving,” she replied. Her heart felt heavy at the words. 

“Do you have someone to pick you up?” Asami asked. 

“I can text Mako and Bolin to come,” Korra assured her. 

Asami smiled and rose from her chair, “Good. I have some more patients to check on, but I’ll visit you on my way out once my shift ends.”

Korra smiled weakly, “Sounds like a plan.”

In the wee hours of the morning, Korra woke up to the door creaking open. Her eyes were bleary, and she couldn’t quite find the energy to sit up, but she could make out a dark haired-figure moving towards her. 

Asami, her brain supplied. 

Sure enough, as the figure came closer she could make out a pair of luminous green eyes in the darkness. Asami had changed out of her scrubs and mask, and instead wore a pair of black leggings and a faded Taylor Swift t-shirt. Her hair was undone and fell in loose waves down her shoulders. 

“Asami…” Korra murmured, still half-subdued by sleep. 

Asami shushed her and tugged a blanket over her chest. “You need to rest,” she whispered. “I’ll be back in the morning.” 

Korra watched as Asami placed something on her bedside table, but before she could figure out what it was, she was pulled into sleep once more.

Korra woke to a bouquet of flowers and a card on her bedside table. She sat up and examined the flowers--white carnations complimented by pink roses--while her mind scrambled to figure out where they came from. Suddenly, she recalled a dark figure moving across the room, her mind foggy with sleep as she watched them place something beside her bed. 

“Asami,” Korra said to herself. 

As if on command, the door swung open. Korra sat up, her heart fluttering in her chest, but to her disappointment, the other nurse--Ginger--walked in.

“Where’s Asami?” Korra asked. 

Ginger placed a tray of pancakes and fruit beside her. “Her shift doesn’t start until later,” she said. 

Korra’s heart dropped, “Oh.”

“You need something?” Ginger asked. 

“Uh, I just had a question for her. You know, since I’m leaving today and she’s been taking care of me,” Korra replied. 

“I could take a message,” Ginger offered.

Korra shook her head, “Don’t worry about it.”

Ginger shrugged, “Suit yourself I guess.” 

Mako and Bolin’s faces lit up when Korra rolled out of the hospital. 

“You’re okay!” Bolin cried, throwing his arms around her and nearly toppling her wheelchair. 

Korra laughed, “The nurses said you thought I was dead.”

“You looked dead to me!” Bolin retorted. “Your face was covered in blood!”

“I’m fine, Bo,” Korra said, grinning. “You don’t need to worry about me.” She passed him Asami’s flowers. 

Mako stepped forward, his face impassive as usual and his hands folded into his pockets. “How are you feeling?” 

“Been better, been worse,” Korra replied. 

Mako nodded, “Good, we were worried.”

She looked towards the curb but didn’t spot Mako’s battered station wagon. “Where’s the car?” she asked. 

“Wu’s bringing it around,” Mako answered. The corner of his mouth quirked upward, which Korra knew was equivalent to most people jumping for joy. 

“Leaving already?” a familiar voice called. 

Korra whipped around to find Asami standing behind her, freshly dressed in a set of hot pink scrubs. 

Korra beamed, “Asami!” 

She smiled and helped Korra out of her wheelchair, “I just got here for my shift, I’m glad I didn’t miss you.”

Korra flushed, “I’m glad you didn’t miss me either.” She remembered Bolin and Mako, who stood a few feet away, their eyes darting between the two women. 

“These are my friends I told you about, Bolin and Mako,” Korra said. 

Asami approached them and extended her hand, “I’m Asami, Korra’s nurse, nice to meet you.”

“Thanks for helping Korra out,” Mako said, taking her hand. 

“I’d be fired if I didn’t,” Asami replied, chuckling. 

Just then, Wu pulled up to the curb. He sounded the horn and waved to Mako.

“That’s our ride,” Bolin said. He approached the car and loaded Korra’s flowers into the backseat. 

Korra’s heart sunk. She turned to Asami, “Hey, I know this might be a longshot--”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Asami interrupted. “Did you read my card?”

Korra paused, “I was saving it for when I got home.”

“Read it now.”

Korra turned the card over in her hands and opened it. It was empty, save for a phone number. Her mouth fell open and she looked back to Asami. 

“Call me okay?” Asami said. 

Korra was too dumbfounded to speak and simply nodded along. 

With one last smile, Asami turned on her heel and headed through the hospital doors. “See you later, Korra.”

Korra stared after her, heart leaping in her chest. She brushed her fingers over the numbers, “See you, Asami.”

#korrasami #korra #asami sato #lok #legend of korra #asami x korra #korra x asami #alternate universe #au #modern au #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #my fics #writing #my writing #the legend of korra #tlok

[softyoongiionly]

Stomach Aches and Sugar Cookies 🍂

Taehyung can’t keep his hands off of you and, you don’t really understand why.

Pairing: Uni!Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Fluff (a wee bit of angst but, just like a teeny bit)

Word Count: 1.3k

Universe: Fear and Dumplings 

Warnings: suggestive content, minor minor angst, a brief mention of insecurities

Based on: this ask x

A/N: Hello and welcome to another installment of Merry Crizzmizz 2019 ! I’m so excited for the rest of the fics and, I wanna thank all of you for sending in your requests, I hope you enjoy what I’ve come up with. This can be read as a stand alone but, I highly recommend reading Fear and Dumplings as it’s based in that universe. Happy Holidays ladz!!!

Back to the masterlist! (click here)

Crisp vanilla and sugared cinnamon hang loosely in the air around your boyfriend’s kitchen. 

You’ve been here for awhile now, baking cookies, chatting about finals and, trying to hide the fact that you’re absolutely FREEZING. 

Taehyung just moved into a new apartment building downtown and, while the view is nice and, the hardware is aesthetically pleasing, you’re starting to wonder whether or not the place has a central heating system. 

“Yeah so, I don’t know, I think he’s gonna do it this weekend, isn’t that crazy? I can’t imagine how nervous he must be...I kinda wish I was there to see it.” Taehyung concludes his story, his strong hands needing a roll of sugar cookie dough against the counter.  

Your attempts to respond are thwarted by the very obvious shiver that wracks through your body. 

“Babe? Are you ok? Your teeth are chattering...” He furrows his prominent brow at you, frowning as he moves away from his current task. “Are you cold?” 

His last question is paired with his hand clasping around your wrist, tugging you towards the warmth of his body. 

“M’fine...” You giggle, swooning as you come in contact with his chest, taking note of the citrus notes in his cologne, “S-sorry, I usually blast my heater back at my place.” 

He shoots a boxy smile your way and, you have to tell yourself to CHILL when he starts running his hands up and down your back. 

“Yahhh why didn’t you say anything hm? Here...” He steps back a bit before hooking his fingers under the collar of his white sweatershirt and, tugging it over his head, “Put this on.” 

Dear sweet Poseidon... 

Taehyung is stood before you now, in nothing but a tight black under shirt, the muscles of his frame rippling against the material. 

You attempt not to gawk at him as you clutch the material in your hands, “Wait but, what about you?” 

He shrugs, the boxy smile still lingering on his lips as he nods towards the bedroom, “I’ll go put something else on...just try and get warm for me yeah? I’ll be right back.” 

With his sentence, he leans in placing a few kisses against your cheek, his hand sliding around your waist momentarily before he heads off to his room. 

As soon as he leaves, you wipe a hand over your face, doing your best to calm yourself. 

You’ve been dating Tae for a month or so and, tonight, you’re finally staying over at his place for the first time. 

Things have been going well but, if you’re being honest, you’re feeling a little off tonight. 

You like him, you really do but, he’s so openly affectionate with you and, god you just feel so freaking awkward sometimes! 

Like, you just wish you could get of your own head... 

But, this is all so new to you. 

You’ve spent most of your life focused on your schoolwork and your career that up until you met Taehyung, you’ve kept romance on the back burner. 

Things are settling down now though and, you’re starting to think you want to follow suit... 

Taehyung obviously exceeds your wildest expectations and, if you’re being honest, you don’t fully understand how you got so lucky. 

“Did you miss me?” He’s voice sounds like cinnamon in your ear, his arms wrapping around your waist.  

Red cashmere now adorns his forearms suggesting that he slipped on another sweater whilst he was in his room. 

“H- yes...” You giggle, leaning back against him, trying to control the rapid beating of your heart, “the second batch is almost done...did you still want hot chocolate?” 

Taehyung smirks fondly at you, kissing your cheek again, “Mm definitely...do you want marshmallows in yours?” 

“Extra pleaase...” You blush against his lips and, Taehyung has to refrain from taking a bite out of your cheek. 

“Extra? She wants extra huh? I’ll see what I can do...” He chuckles warmly, hugging you closer to him, “Do you feel a little warmer now?” 

Although every bit of your defenses wants to come up, you tell yourself to relax and, enjoy your boyfriend’s attention. 

Because you want it, you really do. 

You’re just not used to it. 

“Yeah, thank you. I’m definitely going to need extra blankets during the movie though...” You smile, dusting the cutting board with more flour. 

He smirks, “Extra marshmallows and extra blankets...got it. Whatever you want...” Taehyung’s voice lowers significantly at the end of his sentence and, the next thing you know, you feel a fingers hook underneath your chin.  

Seconds later, you’re met with the plush sensation of your boyfriend’s lips, causing your heart to halt momentarily. 

“Sorry...you just look really cute when you’re concentrating.” He murmurs against your lips, pecking them once more before patting your hips as he pulls away, “Alright...I gotta get to work on our hot chocolate or else I’m just gonna stay here kissing you all night.” 

You find yourself pouting as he pulls away, “That’s not a baaad thing...”  

He smirks again, taking his place over by the Keurig, brown eyes scanning the counter for the box of hot chocolate. 

“No, its definitely not.” He concedes, mischief in his eyes, “But, I need to get this hot chocolate done and, you need to take those cookies out of the oven before they burn.”

Taehyung nods thoughtfully towards the oven and, it’s then you notice the crisp scent of ALMOST burnt cookies in the air.

“Shit…you’re right…” You giggle, attempting to turn towards the oven but, Taehyung stops you to place yet another kiss against your lips.

“Ok…ok, you can go now.” He smirks, patting at your hips, disregarding the fact that he’s actions are leaving you breathless.  

“If the cookies are burnt it’s your fault.”

Taehyung just snickers, flashing the brilliant white of his teeth before turning back to the Keurig

Moments later, under the glow of the Christmas lights, the two of you are snuggled up under a few (extra) blankets, with a mug of steaming hot cocoa for each of you.

“I’m really happy you’re here.” He murmurs, his head resting on your shoulder.

With another flutter in your chest, you smile, glancing down at him, “I’m happy I’m here too.”

Taehyung is content with your answer, cuddling a little closer to you in response but, you feel the need to say something else.

“Thank you for always being patient with me, this is all kinda new and, I don’t know what to do with all of your affection sometimes but,” As you pause, he turns up towards you, eyes riddled with concentration and a bit of concern, “…I like it. I like you a lot.”

A brilliant boxy smile is on his lips then and, he sits up fully to face you, “Hey…you don’t need to apologize to me you know that right? This is new for me too and, I’m just happy to have you in whatever way you’re most comfortable with. I like you a lot too Y/N but, if you need me to tone it down let me know ok? I never want you to feel uncomfortable.”

His words fill your heart with admiration and, instead of speaking you lean down towards his lips, initiating a kiss on your own for the first time.

He’s happy to reciprocate, letting out a deep breath through his nose as his hand comes up to cup your cheek.

“Don’t…uh, don’t tone it down…” You whisper, your eyes still closed before you kiss him again.

Taehyung just smiles into your lips, allowing you to indulge with him as you see fit.

The kissing escalates slightly but, the two of you seem to make a conscious choice to slow down, still pecking at each other’s lips as you pull apart.

“Are you warm enough now?” He whispers, smiling again as you open your eyes.

“Yes.” You smile, before he pulls you into his arms.

#taehyung #taehyung fluff #btswriterscollective #taehyungs fics #taehyung fic recs #taehyung one shots #taehyung imagines #taehyung scenarios #taehyung cute #boyfriend! taehyung #taehyung bts #bts taehyung #bts one shots #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts cute #bts fanfiction #bts fics #bts fic recs #merry crizzmizz 2019 #fear and dumplings

[asthesamcroflies]

PROMPT: Cold Comfort

It had been Jax she had sobbed for at first, too over-wrought to fully realise why, but with hindsight, she’d come to suppose her subconscious had recognised the young president as the one with the power to fix it. To make sure this never happened to any other unsuspecting girls.

She was open-minded, knew from experience there was a kink for just about every damn thing. Hell, that was how she’d made a living for years. Kept a roof over her little boy’s head. Now she had two more kids in her sole care - vulnerable kids who had endured more violent loss than most adults would know how to cope with. For them, she’d been prepared to take a risk, branch out. But this …

She hadn’t been prepared for this.

Humiliation was one thing, she could bear that if she had to. And she had felt she had to. Money was already tight and while she could just about stand to let herself be further used and objectified when she thought it was on her terms, her pride just wouldn’t let her accept a handout. Not from her mom and not from the club. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, take charity. Not even from family.

But outright torture … She hadn’t seen that coming. Maybe she should have.

Chibs had tried his best to both soothe her and get to the bottom of it all, anger and sympathy warring for dominance on his scarred face even before he knew anything like the whole story. But she couldn’t let herself be cleaned up until she knew she had done everything she could to shut down that vile place. What consenting adults got up to was their business, but she hadn’t agreed to that. To any of it.

And neither had the other women.

So, still bloody and tear-streaked, she’d been loaded back into Ima’s car and driven to Diosa and to Jax, with Harleys behind them all the way. She’d stared out the window blankly on the journey, tearful, but kind of numb. On finally seeing the handsome blond biker though, his eyes widening at the state of her, remembering his sorrow and kindness at her husband’s wake, the floodgates had broken completely and she had simply sobbed for Opie as she crumpled in the arms of his shocked best friend. She knew all too well that Opie wasn’t coming back, but in that moment, he was all she’d wanted. The only place she’d truly have felt safe was wrapped in his big arms.

Jax had seemed to know he was a poor substitute, but he’d tried his best to offer comfort, his hands in the tangled knots of her hair as he held her close, until his need to know, to put whatever the hell had happened right, kicked in and then took over.

“You gotta talk to me, darlin’,” Jax had said as he pulled back, his tone kind, but firm. “I need to know what happened. Who the fuck did this to you. Tell me, Lyla, and I’ll make it right. I promise.”

So she’d ended up sat on one of Diosa’s comfortable couches, surrounded by bikers, Nero and Gemma, feeling self-conscious in the face of their interrogation, despite the concern in all their eyes. And it was Chibs who had quietly sat down close by her side, taking one of her hands in both of his, the gentle squeeze of his fingers proving to be the support she needed to be able to tell her story.

She didn’t go big into the detail. She knew they wouldn’t judge her for what she did, that their own involvement in the industry allowed them to see past the surface. To realise she was just another single mom trying to get by. That being a porn star didn’t somehow make her any less than human. Not everyone was capable of seeing that. Telling her side of things in that dry, matter-of-fact way was her only means of getting through it without breaking down again though.

And if her delivery was to-the-point and unemotional, it was still countered by the haunted look in her blue eyes. What she had endured had been a wake-up call. Like she’d told the gathered Sons, this hadn’t been her kind of gig. Her entire career had been fluff really. Lot of girl-on-girl. Cutesy almost, playing on her ability to look young and innocent. Or young and naughty, as required. Cages and whips and knives and beatings … That was a dark road she’d never planned on going down.

At the mention of what she’d already gone through at the hands of Frankie Diamonds, supposedly one of their own, she could see the moment it sank in for both Jax and Chibs just how hard that had hit. They hadn’t stopped to think about the knock-on effect, the unexpected consequences of that callous bullet, and that guilt over their unintended thoughtlessness landed heavily on their shoulders. She didn’t blame them though. They couldn’t have known, not when she’d been so determined to get through it alone like she always did.

Chibs’ gentle tucking of her hair behind her ear had been enough to spark fresh tears, his other hand never letting go of hers, giving her the strength to keep going when she just wanted to get away. To curl up and cry.

And then it was done. She’d told them everything she knew and it was in their hands, leaving her free to be whisked back to TM by Gemma, bikers again in tow. The stares of croweaters and hangarounds set her freshly on edge, but before the club matriarch could bark an order for them to make themselves scarce, there was already a reassuring hand at the small of her back.

“This way, darlin’. I got ya.”

Chibs steered her down the corridor to one of the rooms, settling her on the edge of the bed before briefly disappearing, only to return with a basin of water in his hands and a medical bag tucked under one arm.

“I can get Gem or one o’ the other girls if you’d rather,” the Scotsman offered, sitting down beside her again when she shook her head. “Trust me? Good lass. Let’s get ya cleaned up then and you just tell me if I’m hurting you or you need me to stop … Ah, Jesus, lovie, look at this mess … Don’t you be worrying your wee head any more about it – those bastards are gonna answer for this. We’ll make sure o’ it.”

With infinite care and patience, he gently cleansed all the bare skin he could of blood and grime, face, arms, legs, applying ointment where needed and apologising every time she winced.

“I know, pet, I know,” he soothed, clearly hating to have to cause her further pain with the antiseptic. “But you’ll feel better once it’s done …”

It took a second for her to realise the reason for his hesitation, until she felt gentle fingers ease the strap of her skimpy camisole aside to examine yet another wound with an intake of breath.

“How far’s this go?”

The slight drop of her head as she tried to avoid his gaze told him everything he needed to know.

“Fucking animals,” he muttered darkly, trying to consider the best way to handle this. “All right, sweetheart, still trust me?”

Knowing what needed to be done, she managed a little nod.

“Right then …” Chibs said, easing her round to sit with her back to him. “Lift up, lass. That’s it, nice and easy. I’ll be quick as I can.”

He’d peeled the delicate bloodstained lace and silk up and over her head as carefully as he could, before once again setting to work with the soft washcloth, tending to the multiple cuts and grazes marring the pale skin of her back and sides. Then he’d pressed the cloth into her hand and let her manage as best she could herself to take care of her front and high up on her thighs under the thin blanket she’d been wrapped in since first being delivered back to them by Ima. He stayed close though, leaning in on instinct to press a kiss to the back of her head when he realised she was crying again.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, darlin’,” he whispered, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

She felt him get up from the bed, hearing a drawer open before he was back and handing her a clean Samcro t-shirt big enough to keep her decent.

“Pull that on for now and Gemma’ll sort ya wi’ something proper to wear before we get you home,” he said, waiting until she’d complied to turn her around so he could look her in the eye. “Better?”

She nodded, tearful all over again at his kindness. “T-Thank you, Chibs,” she whispered.

“I’d say any time, but I don’t wanna be seeing you like this again, love,” he smiled sadly.

Her lips brushing over his took them both by surprise but, suddenly desperate for that comfort, she kissed him again before his brain could catch up.

He was only human and her mouth was soft and sweet as he cupped her small face in his hands and kissed her deeply, letting himself be momentarily blinded to the fact that she was supposed to be a patient of sorts in his care – not to mention that in his mind, and hers, she was still his brother’s wife.

He swore when he pulled away first, as if he’d been burned.

“Shite, sorry – I shouldn’t have--”

Shame and embarrassment washed over her, almost stronger than when they’d first saw what had been done to her. She’d started this. She’d let him see what had been done to her and, just because he’d been kind to her, had thrown herself at him like some desperate slut.

“No, it’s my fault. I don’t know what I was thinking. Oh my god, I’m so stupid! Sorry, I’m sorry--”

“Lyla,” he tried. “Lyla, stop. Darlin’, it’s okay …”

“It’s not – it’s not okay! You were only trying to help and I just … I don’t know why I thought you’d want a mess like this – why would anyone? I should go. Shit, I’m so embarrassed …”

“Whoa, slow down there, sweetheart,” Chibs tried again, catching her as firmly as he could by the arms while being mindful of her injuries. “Oi, listen to me, you got nothing to be embarrassed about or sorry for. I’m flattered, love, really I am. Gorgeous wee lass like you – nah, don’t be rolling those eyes now. Come on, you’re a fucking stunner, Ly. A few cuts and scrapes ain’t gonna change that. But you’ve been through a hell o’ a time and you ain’t in a good place right now. And since I don’t really fancy being the cause o’ regret on that pretty wee face, what d’ya say we put this on ice at least ‘til you’ve had a rest, straightened yer head out, yeah?”

She stared at him, taking in those warm brown eyes fixed on her, the hands that had slipped into hers again.

“Why are you being so good to me?” she whispered.

A little smile quirked the corner of his mouth at that and he shrugged, leaning in to give her one final little kiss. “You got people who care about you, lass – don’t ever forget that.”

#sons of anarchy #soa #soa imagine #samcro prompt #sons of anarchy imagine #chibs telford #soa chibs #lyla winston #jax teller

[littlemeowmeowschimmy]

Dominate Files [Seokjin x Reader]

credit: littlemeowmeowschimmy

Requests opened // m.list

Genre: Smut [r18] 

Warning(s): Oral (f), degradation, choking, DLG, edging, etc 

WC: 3k 

Summary: Your assumptions about your friend were true and you were more into it than you could ever imagine... 

A/N: After two wees my dumbass is posting again. Hello, how are you? I’m fine thank you and you? This is going to be side series that I’ll update once a month. Got to keep y’all on edge hehe. Yes, there will be one with all the members...

»»————-　★　————-«« 

You told yourself you weren’t going to get into that space; you couldn’t, right? Well, you could, but you didn’t want to trust yourself around Seokjin. He was a force to be reckoned with, especially with his consistent teasing. You chewed your bottom lip, sitting at the front of his desk with your legs crossed. He wore a white button-up with the first few buttons undone. Your hands were folded in your lap as your eyes scanned the office around you. 

Usually, you would’ve found yourself sipping away at your wine, but your friend wanted you to come in this evening. He was working slow perusal and wanted some company. So you headed over, trying to contain yourself because you had the most immense crush on him. But that was entirely out of the question when you saw what he wore. Not only was the button up distracting you, but the way his thighs looked as the fabric hugged them. 

You groaned, thinking about how you wanted nothing more than to be dominated by him. You knew you were a sub, there was nothing to it. You wanted someone to be controlled by someone, let them decide what they would do with and to you. You got the assumption that Seokjin was a dominant person. Behind the sheets and definitely outside of them. You’d known Seokjin for as long as you could remember, but you never seemed to ask him if your assumptions where correct. 

You didn’t want him to know the dark side of your personality. Which was how you wanted to be treated and how you wanted him to take you. Those dirty thoughts started to creep, and you could feel the fabric in between your legs begin to get wet. You hadn’t had a partner in such a long time, and trying to find one was the hardest. 

You needed someone who would dominate you in a way in which you felt satisfied, but they did as well. Once again, your assumptions would have it that maybe that person was Seokjin, but you were too nervous to even begin to fathom asking him. So you sat there silently, trying not to think of all the ways his pretty full lips would touch you. 

“Is there something on my face, Y/n?” Seokjin questions not looking up from his paperwork. You blinked a few times, getting your mind out of the gutter. 

“What do you mean by that?” You question puffing your cheeks like you usually would. 

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders then shakes his head. “You’ve been staring at me for quite some time.” He mentions setting his pen down and blessing you with his stare. 

You felt your cheeks burn the second your eyes met. The meme from Spongebob started to play on repeat... 

“Don’t be intimidated Squidward, try to imagine him in his underwear,” 

“OH NO, HE’S HOT.” 

You took a deep breath, attempting to calm yourself down. Maybe this was some higher being's way of punishing you. How could you, a girl in their mid-twenties, but so attracted to their best friend? In such a way that you wanted him to do anything he possibly could to you? Seokjin noticed the pause in your response, and he also was watching your body language. With that in mind, Seokjin cocks an eyebrow, a dangerous move he could’ve made. 

It only sent you spiraling as the sub inside was clawing at the back of your mind. You told yourself that you would never show that side of you to him. You knew Seokjin would tease you for it if he wasn’t what you assumed. Yes, your relationship with him was friendship, more like a sibling bond, but none the less, he wasn’t related to you. 

You wanted nothing more than for him to bury his cock deep in your cunt. The more you thought about it, the hotter your cheeks began to feel. 

“Is there something wrong?” Seokjin questions moving back in his chair. As long as Seokjin had known you, he knew that you had a crush on him. Just by the way you glanced at him when he wasn’t noticing and how you held yourself around him. You were a person who wore their emotions on their sleeves, more than you admitted to yourself. 

“Nah, I’m just a little hot.” You lay crossing your legs. With a shake of his head, Seokjin simply pushing himself from his chair. Someday, Seokjin would have to openly admit that he had a crush on you, but it wasn’t going to be today. Instead, he was going to show you with his actions. 

“I know you’re lying,” Seokjin mentions rounding the desk to lean against it. “I think we should start with some rules.” 

Rules? You thought to yourself, noticing the change in his demeanor. Seokjin glances down at his fingertips, examining his nails. Whatever he was thinking of, it was starting to confuse you. 

“I don’t do well with liars, baby girl.” That was it. There were a few triggers that usually brought you to your subspace, and that was one of them. Although it wasn’t all the time because most men called you baby girl, it was because they wanted to catcall you. And or they thought it was hot and an excellent way to pick up chicks. 

Usually, with those of whom you trusted and was affected by sexually and emotionally. The last time someone had called you a baby girl in such a way as your partner. Now..now it was Seokjin. Whatever walls and thoughts before were lost entirely. You only wanted to make him feel good, not better than good. Amazing. 

Seokjin watched as your eyes widened, and that facade you held melted simultaneously. The fist you clutched in your lap quickly unfolded, and you stood straight in your chair. 

“Now I should ask you again,” Seokjin starts crouching down in front of you. Making sure he was eye level as his hands reached out to grasp yours. 

“Is there something wrong, baby girl?” 

You paused, swallowing whatever saliva built up. His eyes were dark, darker than usual. You felt Seokjin’s fingers wrap around your own, holding them in his grasp gently. 

“I..” You paused, looking down at your hands and then back at your friend. “I..I’m very bothered Seokjin,” 

“Daddy,” he corrects. 

“I’m very bothered, daddy,” you corrected yourself. 

“By what?” Seokjin already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from you. 

“You.” He nods his head and doesn’t hesitate to ask another question. 

“Do you want daddy to help you?” The words came out faster than you could process them. 

“Yes, please. I know my colors too.” That’s when his eyes flashed a certain brightness as he reaches forward to cup your cheek in his hand. Whatever previous thoughts you held before wasn’t there anymore as you were entirely consumed by your subspace. You wanted nothing more than to satisfy him in any way you possibly could. 

Seokjin pinches your cheek with his index finger and thumb, holding onto it for a while before wrapping his arms around your waist. He lifts you from the chair and set you on the front of his desk. His body nudged in between your legs and both hands on either side. 

“I’m going to ask one more time,” he says, lifting one hand up to grasp your chin. “Do I have your consent, baby girl?” tilting your head backward as he says so. 

“Yes.” Seokjin gently taps your chin, and you quickly correct yourself. “Yes, daddy.” 

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, trailing his fingers down your chest. You felt goosebumps begin to form wherever his fingers touched your skin. His eyes were locked on his digits, as they made your body twitch under them. You chewed on your lower lip as he did so, waiting patiently to see what he was going to do. 

He pauses at the hem of your skirt, noticing how your skin began to twitch under his touch. You watched him closely, chewing your lip still but instantly stopped when he glanced back. With his other hand, he brings his thumb up to gently pull your mouth from your teeth. 

“We’ll have to break that habit of yours.” He whispers, pinching your lip. As he does so, his hand sneaks under your skirt and up your thigh. You jump, not expecting him to do that. Carefully, Seokjin presses the pad of his thumb against the fabric covering your cunt. 

His eyebrow raised then lowered silently. “Well, look at that,” he purrs, leaning in, adding additional pressure to you. You groan, the pressure was a nice contrast to not feeling anything before. With his other hand, he moves it back down your lip and across your skin. Seokjin gets up in your face, only to bend and plant a few kisses against your jaw. 

“You want me to touch you here?” he questions, circling his thumb gently against your fabric. 

“Yes, please,” you breath, your voice coming out in a low whisper. Seokjin hums at your response while he continues to push his teasing further. Just when you thought he was going to do something, Seokjin pushes himself away and stands in front of you. 

“If you want it, then you have to strip for me, baby girl,” he says, taking your now abandoned seat. He crosses his legs at the knee, then folds his arms across his chest. You didn’t hesitate as you jumped from where you sat. First, you removed your shirt to reveal your bra underneath. It wasn’t anything special, just an everyday bra that was worn too many times. 

Next came your skirt. The sound of the zipper filled the room as the fabric dropped below. You were left standing there in just your white underwear and tan bra. If Seokjin’s eyes could’ve gone darker, they would’ve. The way he looked at you was like he was stalking his next prey. 

You brought your hand behind your back to unclasp your bra, tossing it to the side. Before you could lay a finger on your underwear, Seokjin pushes you onto his lap. You felt his hardon pressing in between your legs, only soaking your underwear more. 

He brought a hand up to curl around one of your breasts. He held it in one grasp, squeezing and molding the muscle. When Seokjin caught you biting your lip, he smacked your nipple. You yelped, not expecting him to do so. 

“I told you we’d have to fix that silly little habit, didn’t I?” he mentions soothing the irritated nub. You nod, silently answering him. Breast play wasn’t really your thing, as it didn’t bring you the pleasure you wanted. To you, it was like someone was fondling with your hair, boring and tedious. 

But how Seokjin found a way to get you bothered further was beyond you. He went back and forth between soothing your nipples and smacking them. In the beginning, you didn’t quite like it. Whatever moans, you tried to hold back slowly started to spill from your mouth. 

The small bits of pain only lasted for what seemed like a few moments. That aching sensation from the number of times he hit you was enough for you to push your breasts more into his grasp. Seokjin noticed this and stopped smacking them only to mold the muscle once again. 

With his other hand, he started to distract you by touching different areas of your body. But they were light and feathery as it wasn’t like he was touching you at all. Instead, he was heightening your senses. As he was doing so, that habit you were trying to break started again. 

You brought your lower lip into your mouth again, and Seokjin noticed like he always did. This time, instead of smacking your nipples, he hit your stomach. You grasped, that sensation from earlier creeping. By now, your underwear was completely soaked through, and you could smell your arousal. You wanted to be touched more than what he was giving you. 

“D-Daddy,” you stuttered gaze falling upon his. 

“Yes, baby girl?” Your breath hitched at those simple words, shivers running up and down your spine. 

“C-Can you touch me?” 

“I’m doing that, sweetheart,” he answers, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you. He uses his arm as an anchor as he leans in to take your breast in his mouth. His tongue flicks the overstimulated nub, a whimper escaping your lips. Simeoustaniously. Seokjin uses that feathery touch on your other chest. Circling his digit around your areola. 

He alternates between licking any skin around your nipple and areola, to biting it. Whatever his tongue was doing to one, his finger was doing to the other. Seokjin was going to make you orgasm without even touching your clit. However, that wasn’t enough for you as your clit desperately wanted to be touched. 

Your hips started to move on their own accord, rubbing yourself against his thighs. With a loud pop, Seokjin removes his mouth and watches you. He grins, enough to make your heart flutter. 

“What a little slut we have here,” Seokjin purrs, leaning back into his chair. Your breath hitches at his degradation, your hips not stopping. Not until he brought bought hands down to clasp them. 

“You want daddy to give your cunt attention, don’t you?” you nod silently, waiting for him to do whatever he wanted to do. With one deep sigh, Seokjin lifts you off his lap and back onto his desk. “You couldn’t be patient and wait, could you?” he questions once more, pressing his thumb against the soiled part. 

You mewl at his actions, locking eye contact with him. “No, daddy, I couldn’t,” just the answer he wanted to hear. 

“Brats don’t get to cum.” he snarls, low and deep. In one quick instant, Seokjin rips your underwear off, tossing it to the floor. He spreads your legs further, stepping in between them as he presses the pad of his thumb into your folds. 

You moan at his touch, your hips wanting to buck into them. He didn’t let you catch your breath as he starts to rub quick circles. You were like pudding under his touch. Loud moans escaped your lips, that sparked sensation you felt earlier entering your system. 

Seokjin watched your body twitch and move under his grasp, your eyes closing. He brought one hand up to squeeze the sides of your neck. “Look at me, damnit,” he growls. When your eyes flung open, you felt the pressure around your neck. At that moment, you took a long breath before Seokjin cut them off. 

All you felt was the pounding of your heart and the pleasure from in between your legs. Your eyes were locked on Seokjin’s, his darker than usual. His face held a grim expression, enough to burn into your memory. Seokjin releases your neck when he saw you were getting close to struggling. 

You sucked in the air only to cry out the second he pushes three fingers inside. Curling them upwards and then cutting circulation off. This repetitive action went on until you felt the knot start to build in your lower stomach. Seokjin saw it in the way your lower lip trembled and how your body began to shake. 

The second he released your neck, he pulled his fingers away from you. Leaving you on the brink of cumming and hotter than you were before. 

“I told you, brats don’t get to cum,” he answers, bringing his fingers up to taste you. You squeezed your legs together as your chest rose and fell. Leaning in again, Seokjin tilts his head to the side. He brought a hand up to cup your chin, tilting it back so you could lock eye contact with him. 

“Are you going to be patient, baby girl?” he asks, expecting you to answer him. Once again, you wanted to bite your lower lip but told yourself not to. It was mostly because you didn’t want to see Seokjin upset with you or deny you of any sort of pleasure. 

Instead, you took another long breath before answering. “Yes, daddy, I’ll be very patient,” you replied. Seokjin hums his response and bends down. He wraps his arms around your waist to pull you to the edge of his desk, where he takes you on his tongue. 

You grasp his shoulders, holding the fabric between your fingers. Your head dropped back as you cried out. This time, Seokjin solely focused on your clit. It was already overstimulated, but you enjoyed it. His tongue circled around it, flicked it, and pressed against it. More times than you could count. He did this so often that your orgasm from earlier crept up. 

“D-Daddy, can I cum?” You plea bringing your head back down to gaze at him. 

Seokjin’s eyes were still on you like they were earlier. He pushes his head back, relieving his plump lips covered in your arousal. “Yes, baby girl, cum for daddy.” then go back to what he was doing before. 

The grip on his shoulders tightened as your orgasm started to wash over you. You cried his name out, even tore into his shirt. He slowed his movements, now gently applying pressure as he cleans you. 

“Such a good girl for daddy,” he says, kissing around your thighs and up your stomach. 

“Y-Yes, I’m a good girl,” you answered, your hands slipping from his shoulders as he stands. 

“I think,” he begins hooking an arm around your waist to pull you up. He walks around his desk and sets you on his lap, you instinctively curl up into him. One of his hands starts to trace small pictures on your skin. “Next time, daddy will give you his cock.” He reaches forward to grab his pen to scribble a few things down. 

“You really think so?” You ask, tilting your head back to lock eye contact with him. Seokjin glanced down, giving a soft affection gaze. 

“Anything for daddy’s little girl.” 

#littlemeowmeowschimmy #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #ficswithluv #bts reader insert #bts #bts x reader #kim seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #bts jin #seokjin #bts kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts smut

[writingiyuu]

affection; sanemi x reader fluff hc 🌪🌧

requested.

posting it earlier because I can.

warning: slight or more angst

people wondered how you both get together. you were his tsuguko and you both only exchange words during training. who proposed first, they often ask. everytime you wanted to answer it you could sense sanemi’s malicious intent somewhere around you even though he dosent seem to be there. with that, you did not say any futher.

however, this relationship was quite a shaky one. not only he was busy slaying demons, also he refused to accept any affection you try oh so hard to give him.

“stay away from me”

“get out”

“go away”

and so much more. you were wondering, the fact that he accepted your proposal (yes you proposed first hehebebebe) and the day after you wanted to hug him and so on, any means of affection, he would quickly turn away. the moment you ask, he would tend to say for you to train more and not focus on this relationship right now.

you were confused. he accepted you but now he dosent want you to care about this relationship? about him? wehh???

despite all that you’ve been nothing but patient. waiting for the day he finally reacted to you lovingly and showed you the attention and love you crave from him. until one day, you utterly could not stand it.

that day was a rainy day. the storm continued from the wee hours to the current evening. and you absolutely hate rainy days. it reminded you of the past, where your entire family wad murdered right in front of your eyes. you can still remember it, fresh on your mind the pools of blood, mixing with the rain, seemingly making your house look like a bloody swimming pool. you only got out alive because your siblings hid you near the well behind your house. and after a long period of time, when you gathered courage to step out, you saw that. although this memory gave you the drive to train harder, it still traumatised you. and no one knew. not even sanemi.

back to the present, you were sent to do a mission with sanemi. news of many, not only villagers but demon slayers have been going missing in the recent nights. do you have been sent on a mission with sanemi to find out the situation and if there is, a demon, exterminate it. you kept thinking, at least im with sanemi. at least in with sanemi. at least-. a tree crashed down and nearly hit you, if not for your dearest boyfriend.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING. WHAT WERE YOU TRYING TO DO RISK YOUR FUCKING LIFE? SNAP OUT OF YOUR TRANCE WE ARE ON A FUCKUNG MISSION HERE.”

you were in a daze but the amount of profanities suddenly shot at you and you were not even prepared for that, shocked you to the very bone. you could not control your emotions, you started hiccuping and the next thing you knew, turquoise tears was flowing down your cheeks.

your boyfriend, sighed and rolled his eyes. did he not care about you? you thought. bad thinking. it made you want to cry even more.

“this ain’t a fucking childcare. what do you want me to do huh? it was your fault that you couldn’t even take care of yourself. you could’ve been killed. stop playing victim.”

one thing led to another, you immediately raged out. “I CAN’T. I’M TRAUMATISED. THERE IS SO MUCH GOING IN MY HEAD AND YOU DON’T EVEN CARE! I’M SO SORRY SANEMI, THERE’S ONLY SO MUCH I COULD HANDLE.” with that, more tears started flowing down your cheeks and you immediately ran, not knowing where your little feet would take you. you can hear your boyfriend,or at least, your mentor shouting after you calling you to come back but you just ran. and ran, into a demon.

you were shocked. how could you not sense the demon? and upon seeing it, you wanted to coil back in disgust so badly. it reeked, it reeked so badly. you may not have the nose of tanjiro’s but this smell, is so strong and foul, it can actually kill.

you looked around you, blood was flowing around your shoes, it was the villagers and demon slayer’ s blood. again, how could you not sense it. and immediately, it triggered your traumatic past and you immediately collapsed. then, the demon had started crawling towards you.

your senses were dulled. you couldn’t process to even take your sword. you could only crouch there, not functioning due to the smell and also whatever happened beforehand and that triggered memory. the demon smacked its lips, and opened its mouth. you could see layers and layers of teeth and the throat which lead to the dark abyss of the demon’s stomach. you thought it was the end when it’s tounge shot out to grab you by the waist and into the stomach.

in a blink of an eye, the tounge got sliced off. and you were carried to a safe distance. you could smell ohagi, yes, in this situation. immediately you thought of your boyfriend. you looked up, and saw sanemi. he immediately said “stay here”. and you did. you could hear some slashing, and you could hear internal organs bring ripped out. but you couldn’t hear him. you tried to, but you just can’t.

after what felt like hours, you were soaked, and you were uncomfortable being by yourself. but after being patient, your boyfriend came and carried you back to base. he did not say anything when he picked you up. he kept silent all the way back to base. you were fine with it, as you couldn’t say anything at that moment. you laid on his back with a faint smell of ohagi drifting to your nose along with the smell of rain, you drifted into sleep.

you woke up at the butterfly estate, with a cool pack on your head. shinobu came in as if on queue, and aided you. so on and so forth. you asked her then, “where is sanemi?” she smiled and said “(y/n)-san, you’ve been out for 2 days, he went back to his place on the first already and I’m sure he is there”. he didn’t even bother to stay to look after you. *sigh*

sensing your disappointment, shinobu added “he actually told me not to tell you this, however he came here thrice a day just to see you, so don’t feel disappointed that he is not here fufu~ maybe he is just too embarrassed or shy to admit that he cares lots for you”. immediately you looked at her and felt bad. kinda. maybe sanemi actually wanted to love you the same way as you love him but he just has difficulty to do it?

immediately you went back to the wind estate, but apologising to the insect hashira first. she seemed to understand what you wanted to do and sent you off. “ganbatte!” she said, before you left.

you raced back to the wind estate, only to see your boyfriend, training by himself again and again. your heart swelled when you saw him. after what you heard from shinobu, you couldn’t look at him the same way again.

sensing your presence, he immediately loomed at you. he stood there for a moment and processed for a moment before striding towards you. you looked at him, he looked so cute, but afterwards, you couldn’t help but blush. his abs was on full view and he was sweating through his white uniform. he became hot, the closer he came.

upon arriving, he asked. “you still having a fever?” you were taken aback, he cares? he cares??“sorry for letting you go for a mission in the rain, I’m sorry I didn’t know about your trauma. I should’ve asked from the start of the mission. you have been looking uneasy since then. I am sorry.” he said all these, while looking on the ground. he was standing in front of you, like a giant but yet he looked so small.

you hugged him, and he hesitated and then finally hugged you back before nuzzling his head at the crook of your neck. you could feel his breath on your neck as you touched his sweaty back. but you just don’t mind. “i forgive you, but in return you must pay me back all the affection I’ve given from start till now”.

“that’s not a problem.”

from then on, everyday when you both trained finish, in public, he would give you a light peck on your cheek, forehead and occasionally your lips. and after you both showered, lying on your shared futon he would be the big spoon and cuddling you with his legs wrapped around yours. sometimes, he would make ohagi and give it to you. otherwise he would cook you your favourite meals. but your favourite was when you would face him and cuddle towards his chest with legs tangled together while he caressed your hair and putting kisses on it.

bonus:

“sanemi,, thank you for visiting me at the butterfly estate when I was sick~”

“wha- how did you- SHINOBU!!!!”

he hugged you even tighter and buried his face deeper to hide the furious blush on his face.

a.n: sorry it was super longg I didn’t type a draft or this beforehand i came it up on the spot. sorry it so draggy :// but thanks for reading !!

[141119 @writingiyuu]

#sanemi x reader #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #shinazugawa sanemi #demon slayer sanemi #kny anime #kny x reader #kny sanemi

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 1 of promises to keep is here!

[kristanna / 18th c scotland au / love and angst and kiltstoff in equal measure / rated t / 2k words this chapter]

masterpost

“Are you betrothed to someone?”

Anna laughed. “Me? No, no one’s interested in scrawny little girls with too many freckles. I can’t even curtsy right.”

“I’ll be betrothed to you, then.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

chapter 1: a promise made

“What have we here, then?”

Anna thought the answer to that was pretty obvious. It was a little boy with hair the color of new hay and a face spattered with grime. He made no sound, didn’t even look up at her father’s question.

“What’s your name laddie?” Da asked patiently, but still no reply came.

The woman standing behind him cleared her throat. “We don’t know if it’s his hearin’ or–”

A burly man nearby clapped hard, and the little boy jumped. Anna did, too, but hopefully nobody noticed.

“Thank you, Thomas,” her father said drily. “Not that, then. Is it his tongue?”

“We heard him mutterin’ in his sleep when we found him by the shore. Not any language I’ve ever heard.”

“No one else with him?”

“Not a soul. Just…wreckage.”

Da nodded. “I’ll not leave a child to suffer in my lands long as there’s life and breath in me. Can you care for him if I were to send you gold enough for his keeping?”    

“Aye, my lord, gladly.”

“He’s yours, then,” he proclaimed. “Give him a good supper and a wash and bring him back to see if he’ll get on with the other children.”

Anna desperately wanted to follow along with the boy and the woman, wanted to know more about this accidental changeling, but there were more men and women waiting yet for an audience with her father, and he’d asked her and her sister both to stand and watch how the business of clan governance was handled. It was horrendously boring, but her sister and mother both had been acting like perfect ladies all the while, and she was doing her utmost to match them. It wasn’t easy, though, not when her stockings itched worse than grass did when she snuck out and rolled in it instead of going to lessons.

Two dreadful hours later she was free and burst out of the great hall and into the yard, nearly bowling over the little boy from that morning. “What are you doing just standing in the middle of the way like that?” she demanded hotly, but he gave no response, not even a shake of the head, and she paused and looked him over, taking the measure of him. “Can you really not talk, then?”

He only looked at her with those sad, dark eyes. She frowned. “Well? Do you understand me, boy?”

If it were her alone in a new place with no mam, she realized suddenly, she’d not want to talk much either. And if it were very new–

“I’m sorry,” she said, “shouldn’t have talked so hard to you. I suppose you’d understand I was being cross with you even if you don’t know the words.”

His brow furrowed, as if he really were trying to understand, and an idea came to her. “Wait,” she instructed, leaping to her feet and holding a hand towards him, palm up.

He nodded; that at least was universal. She ran off, and a few moments later she was back, clutching a bit of charcoal and a scrap of parchment. The boy watched, head tilted in curiosity, as she scratched out the four letters of her name.

She looked up, ready to explain, but before she even opened her mouth he smiled and pointed at her. “Anna,” he said, rounding the first A in a way she’d never heard before.

“Aye, that’s me. Anna.”

The boy smiled and laid a hand over his heart. “Kristoff.”

—

The sun was warm on her cheeks as she flopped ungracefully onto her back in the middle of a patch of heather. It was the first true day of spring, and the mists had at last retreated back up the sweeping slopes of the hills to reveal the new life that had been waiting to emerge from beneath the crusts of snows the whole winter long. The air itself was still crisp and cool, but neither of them cared, not when there were blankets to wrap over their shoulders and good company to be had.

“Sorry I’m late meeting you out here,” Anna said, not bothering to look at him.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind,” Kristoff replied, settling his arms behind his head as he laid back to gaze up at the trails the clouds were stretching across the watery blue sky.

He’d improved in great leaps and bounds over the last year and a half, and she tried not to pride herself too much on that fact or else it’d be a sin and the elders would have her head, which was even scarier than the wrath of God himself. But it was hard not to, not when he could read and write now nearly as well as she could, though he still rarely spoke aloud to anyone except for her. She tried not to feel too proud of that, either.

“It’s just there was a whole ceremony for my sister and some boy from France so they could get betrothed. He’s already going on seventeen, can you believe it? Don’t know why he’d come all this way for my sister. She doesn’t even smile half the time, not even at me.”

“Betrothed?” Kristoff asked, his brows pinching together. “I don’t know that word.”

How strange it was she had forgotten to teach it to him when it was the most important word in her world these days. “I wish I didn’t,” she muttered, rolling onto her stomach so she could look at him. “It means you’ll marry them. Like you’re promised to them.”

“Oh. I understand promises.”

That he did; she’d made him swear about a million of them already, promises to meet her somewhere or not share her secrets or do a favor for her. And he kept every last one of them. “Yeah. So you promise when you’re grown up that you’ll get married.”

“How can you promise to love someone if you don’t know them?”

She sighed. “It’s not like that. Love doesn’t matter when it’s for the good of the clan.”

“Are you betrothed to someone?”

Anna laughed. “Me? No, no one’s interested in scrawny little girls with too many freckles. I can’t even curtsy right.”

“I’ll be betrothed to you, then.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” She bit her lip. “I don’t know.”

“Well, when we’re grown up, if we’re still friends, I promise to marry you.”

He said it so sincerely, his eyes so big and solemn she couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, then. I promise, too.”

—

“Why, you’ve gone and grown half a mile and left me behind!” she cried, settling her hands on her hips.

He laughed, and that was different, too, no longer the giggle of a boy but the deep, rumbling chuckle of a man. “You’ve changed, too. Even more freckles.”

His face reddened when his voice cracked on the last word, but she only grinned; there he was, then, still the boy she’d always known, even if now she had to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes. “I go away for a whole year and come back to mockery?”

“Feistypants.”

“Brute.”

“Wee little thing.”

“Wild big thing!”

They were both nearly doubled over with laughter. “I missed you, though,” Anna managed to gasp out. “The letters weren’t the same.”

He grew quieter then. “I missed you, too.”

“I won’t have to go away again, though, now that they’ve finished me into a proper lady. Until I’m married, at least.”

His eyes met hers, dark and searching, and she felt a sudden thrumming in her heart, like the wings of a hummingbird barely beginning to take flight. “Are you betrothed to someone else now, then?”

She shook her head, unable to do anything more when he was looking at her like that. Someone else. She had expected him to forget almost immediately; she should have known better. Kristoff didn’t forget things he said in sincerity, which in his case was everything.

He nodded, looking almost relieved. “Good. We’re almost grown up now, aren’t we? I’m sixteen next month.”

“Aye, and I turned thirteen the last one.”

“And we’re still friends, aren’t we?”

“Well, I’d certainly hope so.”

“Then it’s still settled. Between us, I mean.”

Anna smiled and set a hand on his arm, and he blushed again. So did she; that had changed, too. She squeezed and felt him flex beneath her touch, all newly-won hard muscle thanks to the apprenticeship he’d taken with the blacksmith in her absence. “I suppose it is.”

—

“I suppose we’re both orphans now,” she said softly, and he reached over to set his hand atop hers where it rested on the hard oak of the pew. “How have you managed it all this time, all this—this feeling so alone?”

“You’re not alone, Anna,” he whispered back as the minister made his way to the front. “You’ve got your uncle still, and your sister, and—and you’ve got me.”

Her eyes were damp when she met his gaze, but there was still a spark in their blue depths, the one that always seemed to ignite something in him, too. “Is that one of your promises again?”

“Aye, it is. You’ll always have me.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but then the minister cleared his throat and the service began. Instead she flipped her hand beneath his, slipping her little white fingers between his rough, work-hardened ones, and held on tight.

—

“Feels like you haven’t asked me to meet you out here for half an age,” Kristoff said, already sprawling out with ease, all long, solid limbs and teasing brown eyes. “Thought maybe you were starting to forget me.”

Anna didn’t laugh. Instead she sat down and tucked her knees up to her chest, her long skirts coming up just enough to reveal a slice of skin above her boots. How does she have freckles even there? he found himself wondering, unable to tear his gaze away though the tips of his ears were burning.

“I’m eighteen next week,” she said with a frown. “And my uncle’s got it in his head that I’m halfway to being an old maid already.”

“What does that make me, then? A walking corpse?” he asked, trying to tease, but she didn’t rise to the bait.

“He says with my sister being a widow and shutting herself in these past years, and him only having sons, I’m the last hope if we’re to survive what’s coming next. Said we needed allies, and I said ‘what for’, and all he did was shake his head and try to be mysterious. It’s positively ridiculous, such a self-important man getting to lead us all just because he’s got a cock swinging beneath his skirts and I’ve only got—”

“Anna!” he cried, horrified. “Where’d you learn such language?”

Secretly, though, he was amused, and she knew it, too, finally giving him that familiar sunny smile.

“Never you mind about that. The point is he’s going on about me getting married off to some son of a MacDonald or a Campbell if they’ll have me, and I told him—I told him…”

She trailed off, looking away from him again. His heart started to pound, like it had when he had stood with her at the edge of the cliffs that overlooked the seas and she’d whispered, “Doesn’t it make you want to jump? Just to see how it feels?”

“I’m not as good as you,” she said softly, “at keeping promises. But I do try, Kristoff, I do. And I’d like to keep this one if you’ll have me.”

“Which one?” he asked, his voice ragged as he leaned towards her. They hadn’t spoken of it in years, but he’d always wondered, always hoped—

“Well, what I just said,” she said, looking up at him again with a touch of impatience. “That we’re grown now, so you’ll have me, and I’ll have you, and—”

He’d been waiting long enough. He leaned forward then and kissed her, gently at first and then harder when she kissed him back, tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. It felt like a promise all over again, the way her lips pressed against his, like a seal that would keep them bound together for the rest of their days.

When at last they pulled away, her cheeks were rosy, and she was breathing hard, and both of them were grinning like the reckless fools they were. “Aye, Anna,” he said, and her smile grew improbably wider. “I’ll have you.”

#i heard your cries of 'but we wanted kris to have an accent all the time and wear a kilt and also HISTORICAL AU??' #and yalls wish is my command so welcome to the other scottish au #(this one will be much shorter than bls and will be more like my klaus au) #(only 4 chapters i think but still i hope you enjoy) #kristanna #my fics #ptk