#they help with my sat-sun emotional recovery lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

Text

The Little Folk and the Heir

me again lol. i completely forgot that i had written this, i was inspired to write a bit of a mama aelin fic after my papa rowan fic.

on another note, i’m writing a part two of Family Time and hopefully i’ll have it out in a couple of days.

enjoy! :)

1415 words

Aelin loved these moments when it was just her and Elentiya-Fenrys. These moments helped her with the fact that she was a mother now. Elentiya was four months old and Aelin still had moments where she couldn't quite believe that she was lucky enough to conceive, lucky enough to become a mother. But in the darkest moments when Aelin's mind wouldn't stop racing, she wondered if she was still in Maeve's clutches, and that this was simply a dream created by the Valg Queen. It felt like something she would do.

Aelin often had to remind herself that Maeve was dead, and that Cairn wasn't hiding in the shadows, waiting for her with a whip in his hands. Sometimes Rowan helped to remind her that they were dead and that the Valg were no longer a problem. That Aelin was safe and alive and that Elentiya was real, and not some cruel figment of imagination created by Maeve.

Shaking her head to remove those thoughts and to focus on the summer day, Aelin brushed a kiss on her daughters head, who was safely bound to Aelin's body in a thick velvet wrap. Aelin kept a hand against her daughters back and in Aelin's free hand was a picnic basket, with a picnic blanket tied around the handles.

Rowan would be joining them eventually, but was currently stuck in a meeting. Aelin had offered to wait or to postpone the picnic for a later date, but Rowan wouldn't hear that, and had insisted that Aelin go, to have these moments with Elentiya and that he would join them soon.

Finding an elm tree to rest against, Aelin set up the picnic. It wasn't as impressive as the ones that she and Rowan had in the past, but a much smaller one. It was simply a small outing for Elentiya, to spend time as a family, to further grow the bond between the three of them.

Sitting down, Aelin undid the wrap and gently placed Elentiya on her back, immediately smiling as her baby stretched her arms and legs, and began her wiggling. She was a very wiggly baby, Aelin noted months ago, never really lying still. Aelin and Rowan knew that once she started crawling that it was going to be an entertaining time keeping her out of trouble and out of things that she shouldn't be touching.

Aelin nibbled on some of the foods and watched her daughter explore the world from her spot, her pine-green eyes wide and curious. Aelin reached out and tickled her belly with her free hand, her laughter one of the most beautiful sounds she'd ever heard.

But once Elentiya stopped wiggling and started grunting, Aelin knew it was time to feed her. Four months later, and she and Rowan were started to realise which sounds meant what. The grunting and small amount of huffing meant that she was hungry, the grunting whine meant that she had soiled herself and if she was left too long that way, it turned into a howling cry that tugged at Aelin's heart. Crying could mean anything, however, sometimes it was all of those things in one.

Aelin grew used to breastfeeding roughly two months ago. At first, it was one of the strangest sensations she ever experienced, to actually feel the pull of her milk leaving her breasts. She really wouldn't get used to how aggressive Elentiya could be at times, and Aelin wasn't looking forward to when she grew her teeth.

Rowan arrived eventually, a sigh of relief escaping him as he sat down behind her, wrapping his arms around Aelin, his fingers running gently through Elentiya's small patch of hair. He told her how the meeting went, but how he was happy to be out of there, how he'd much rather spend time with his favourite girls instead of those stuffy old shirts.

Aelin smiled warmly at that, because while Aelin loved the moments when it was just her and her daughter, she very much loved it when it was the three of them. This was her family. Something she never thought she would be blessed enough to have.

It took Aelin a moment too long to realise that the entire forest went quiet, that there was no bird chirping anymore, that the little critters that lived in the woods had stopped their movements.

She knew that silence, and from the way that Rowan still as well, he knew it too, and turning their heads to the right where a thick bush was, Aelin spotted the eyes of the Little Folk. Glancing upwards, she spotted the Little Folk in the leaves, as well. And in the Kingsflame, too.

She knew what they were here for, and when Elentiya was done feeding and Aelin had cleaned her mouth and burped her, Aelin rested Elentiya against her arm and pointed out the faeries to her daughter. Aelin knew that she really wouldn't understand what she was seeing, but that didn't stop Aelin from doing it, however.

Slowly, the Little Folk in the bush came closer on silent feet. One was a dark iridescent blue, its skin made of scales and little black wings. The one next to it had silver scales and clear wings that turned into rainbows when the sun caught it. Many others came behind them, all different, all alluring in their otherworldly ways.

The Little Folk in the trees and Kingsflame moved closer, eyes wide and curious, just like Elentiya's.

Some stared at Elentiya, some looked at Aelin and Rowan, sensing the powers that thrummed through their veins.

“Her name is Elentiya-Fenrys,” Aelin said softly, “she was born four months ago at ten-thirty-two in the morning.” She told them the date, and realised that they probably all ready knew when she was born, and probably when and where she was conceived as well, as they always seemed to know things that others didn't. “She likes being sung to and visiting the gardens. She's also inherited Rowan's scowl and has finally discovered that she loves sleeping. Fenrys likes to call her Little Fen, much to Rowan's annoyance, but I think it suits her.” Rowan huffed from behind her, but didn't deny it. She knew that deep down, he liked the nickname.

The dark blue one came close enough to touch Rowan's knee, its head cocked as it looked at Elentiya with its dark eyes.

“I'm sorry that I haven't brought her to you until now, but it's been an adjustment for us.” Rowan kissed her cheek at that. It had been a rough start, with how Aelin's emotions had been all over the place during her recovery and the healing process had been a headache to deal with.

From behind her, more Little Folk arrived, a dark green scaled faerie holding a little crown made of twigs and tiny purple flowers threaded through it. The green faerie passed it to the dark blue one, and with gentle movements, placed the crown on Elentiya's head, the twigs rested against her tuft of golden hair.

Elentiya laughed, the sound like twinkling bells. The faeries laughed along with her, the sounds like nothing Aelin had ever heard.

“Thank you,” Rowan said, the faeries eyes snapping to him. The Little Folk especially liked Rowan, and would often follow him when he would go to the forest. Aelin suspected that they knew that he was the most powerful Fae male in the world and was in awe by that power.

“Yes, thank you,” Aelin said, cuddling Elentiya closer to her. The flowers scent was pretty, it reminded Aelin of honey.

They stayed for a little while longer, but eventually moved out of sight, but they were still there, watching, their glowing eyes blinking from time to time.

Rowan took Elentiya from Aelin, cradling her to him, telling her how pretty she looked with her new crown. Aelin hoped that the crown would keep for a long time, so that Elentiya could always have a reminder of how she important she was—not just to the everyday civilians of Terrasen, but to the Little Folk as well.

When Aelin and Rowan started the walk back home an hour and a half later, they came across two more crowns crafted of twigs and flowers. Rowan gently placed them on their heads, the eyes of the Little Folk watching them the entire time.

They would have to bring Elentiya out here more often.

Elentiya was, after all, their heir.

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #the little folk

49 notes · View notes

hanoella · 3 years

Text

Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 3)

Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader

Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.

Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence

Part 3 Word Count: 3k

A/N: Can you tell I don't really have a posting schedule? lol. I also introduced links to the specific pieces I had in mind. I'm using soundcloud because I don't think everyone has access to spotify. Trying to be reader friendly! This can be read with or without the audio, as I do my best to still convey the thought in the fic. Though if you can, I highly recommend :)

Thanks again for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful

Read Part 1; Masterlist

---

A few days had passed since the night that Bucky had overheard your troubles. It had been quiet since, and you hadn’t left the house. The curtains were opened during the day and closed at night, the only telltale signs that you existed.

Doesn’t she have to work? Bucky thought to himself. He speculated all the different possibilities as he used the riding mower around the property. Maybe you were an heiress? You seemed pretty down to earth though. Or maybe you sold a patented idea for a ton of money. All this land had to have been expensive. And to not request actual money from him?

He eyed up the width of the gate for your fence. The riding mower couldn’t fit so he would have to use a push mower for your fenced off yard. He hadn’t seen one in the garage. Maybe the old shed at the back of your yard had one? Bucky parked the mower in the garage, taking a moment to make a mental list of everything. Depending on if he found anything in the shed, he might need to buy a few basic tools and a chainsaw for that fallen tree.

He walked out of the garage and over to the shed. The leaves were changing color and it brought a whole new atmosphere to the secluded forest area. Opening the gate of the weathered white fence, he looked around to see if you were out. No signs of life. Entering the yard and closing the gate behind him, he started walking to the back. Halfway through, he stopped at the fire pit. The grey stone blocks were starting to crumble, with a few of the bricks having fallen off. It would probably be really nice if he got a little bit of cement mix and filled in the gaps. Bucky made another mental note.

The shed had no padlock so he was able to open it with no problem. Amongst the cobwebs and bags of soil, was an older green push mower that looked like it might work. He gave the gas a pull and got no response back. Looking underneath, Bucky saw what might be the problem. He’d have to take a closer look later. Putting the lawn mower back onto its wheels, he pushed it across the yard, pausing when he saw movement though the glass doors of the back patio.

Craning his neck to avoid the glare, he saw you sitting at your fancy full keyboard. The way the piano was against the opposite wall, your back was to him. You had big over-ear headphones plugged into it, so he couldn’t hear the sound but he saw the flurry of keys being pressed down. Whatever you were playing, you played passionately. Hands and arms gracefully moved despite the speed at which they were moving. Enhanced hearing coming into play, he heard the muffled clicks of the fluttering keys. Suddenly, you pressed down forcefully, holding whatever chord you had struck as your shoulders gently relaxed. A deep breath. Arm creating a graceful arc as if you had studied ballet, you pressed gently on another chord. And another. Bucky counted three more times you did this before you let your hands gently fall from the keys to your lap. Several moments passed before slid the headphones off of your ears to sit wrapped around your neck. Another deep breath. This time as the breath escaped you, you stayed slouched, head tilting up to stare at nothing on the wall.

A buzz broke Bucky from his trance.

“Call me, new mission” The text from Sam on his home screen said.

He pocketed his phone, glancing through the glass one more time. There you still sat.

Unmoving.

---

The roar of the plane’s engine was just loud enough to drown out Bucky’s thoughts without being annoying. If it weren’t for the adrenaline of the recovery mission under the cover of nightfall, he probably would’ve been lulled to sleep. Beside him sat Sam, looking on his phone for the exact coordinates of the politician they had been sent to rescue.

“Here it is. I’m assuming there’s some sort of underground base since there are no heat signatures anywhere within the radius where he was taken. It should take us about ten more minutes before we’re directly over it.”

Bucky hummed in acknowledgement.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Earth to Bucky.”

“What does your friend do?” Bucky asked suddenly, sitting up straighter and turning towards him.

“… What?”

“What does she do? I’ve never seen her leave the house. Is she okay?”

“If you’re asking why she doesn’t leave the house, it’s because her contract doesn’t start for a while. She’s technically still supposed to be in physical therapy but she hasn’t found a place yet. You know, your whole routine gets messed up when you move.”

“For her shoulder?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to look at Bucky, trying to decipher the motive behind these questions. Bucky shifted his weight in the chair, antsy under the scrutiny.

“Never mind, I-”

“Yes, for her shoulder.” Sam said, cutting him off. He stopped himself from asking why Bucky wanted to know. There was an awkward pause before Bucky explained himself.

“I just wanted to know. I’m not used to seeing people so…”

“Similar to yourself?”

“I was gonna say isolated but fair point.” Bucky admitted. Sam leaned back in his chair, looking straight forward.

“She’s been through a lot… I know you heard some of it.”

Bucky blinked in surprise.

“I realized the window was open when I could hear you drive off.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, it’s good that you know.” Sam said as he held up his hand to cut Bucky off.

“She’s just trying to get a fresh start. She’s in a raw emotional space and in the meantime is a little skittish. Just like someone else I know.” Sam jabbed his elbow into Bucky’s side as he enunciated the last sentence.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m trying!” He shouted as he held one hand up defensively and using the other to block the second jab Sam was trying to get in. Sam chuckled and then stood up, grabbing a parachute pack and tossing it at Bucky, who caught it without even looking.

“Figured you might wanna try an actual chute this time.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and mouthed Sam’s words mockingly with a grimace as he put the backpack on. Clipping it into place, he joined Sam at the side door of the plane.

“She used to play in an orchestra you know.” Sam said wistfully. “The piano. That’s actually how we met. She had volunteered to play a small concert before the dinner. It really helped raise a lot of money for the VA.”

Bucky stayed silent, prompting him to continue.

“Then that bastard she was engaged to beat her and then shoved her down a set of concrete steps when she tried to leave him. It was like a month after we all came back. She was in the hospital for a while. Broken ribs, broken shoulder, and a nasty concussion to boot. Neighbor saw the whole thing and called the cops but the courts were so backed up and the case fell through the cracks. Wouldn’t leave her alone after he got out. So, I pulled some strings and helped her move down here on the fly.”

“… That’s terrible.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say or how to react. They stood in silence, taking a moment to pay a respect of sorts to the trials you have been through. Then Sam broke the silence.

“She just needs time to heal in more ways than one. But she’s strong. Resilient.”

Putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, he squeezed it lightly with reassurance.

“Reminds me of someone else I know.” Sam said, finishing the conversation and pulling his goggles over his eyes, giving Bucky the opportunity to take the compliment without feeling too on the spot.

Pulling the door open, Sam shouted over the wind.

“Ready?”

Bucky nodded. Sam jumped from the plane and deployed the wings, the shield shining in the moonlight. Bucky jumped right behind him, using the glint of the silver star to guide his descent as he followed the man that gave the shield its meaning.

---

You laid with your head down on the kitchen table, letting the last golden rays of sun warm the side of your face. You were exhausted from going to physical therapy, especially since today had been the first appointment. All the measurements, all the exercises, all the stretching.

All the questions.

“So, how did you break your shoulder?” the young blonde physical therapist asked.

“Ah, I… fell down some stairs.” You said, looking down at your hands in your lap.

She didn’t look up from the papers, instead just raising an eyebrow.

“You also cracked some ribs and had a concussion?”

“… They were concrete.”

She looked up from the papers at you, analyzing. Her gaze softened and she asked no further questions on how these serious injuries had been obtained.

“Let’s look at your range of motion.”

You had practically stumbled into the house, kicking off your sneakers and plopping down at the kitchen table. Minutes passed by as you regained your breath, heartbeat steadying. The house was slightly cold since you had turned the heat down this morning. As your sweat cooled, you wrapped your arms around your legs in an attempt to keep you warm without getting up.

The sun feels so warm… You thought to yourself drowsily, feeling slightly less lonely. The sun was a cheap substitute for the warmth of a partner…

---

You jolted upright, the kitchen dark and cold. Neck and shoulder stiff from the awkward position you had dozed off in. Feeling the dryness of your mouth, you got up, stretching your neck gently while you walked to the fridge to get water. Chugging about half the bottle, you squinted at the clock. You had been asleep for about forty-five minutes. Groaning, you put the bottle down on the counter and walked into the living room to close the curtains. Grabbing one in each hand, you went to pull them together when you hesitated, noticing that Bucky’s apartment was dark for the third day in a row. The sleek motorbike that was usually parked under the slight overhang of the garage was missing as well.

He was probably on a mission, right? Not that it was any of your business. You shut the curtains and turned off the lights before lightly padded down the hall, stopping to adjust the thermostat. The heat kicked on, sending a puff of cold air your way. You shivered as you walked with a quickened pace to your room, shutting the door and heading into the master bathroom, turning the hot water on with just a tad of cold.

Waiting for the shower to warm up, you leaned over the sink and looked into the mirror. Dark circles under your eyes. Small scar on the bridge of your nose. Running your hand through the roots of your hair, you felt for the scar where the stitches had been. When was the last time you had a haircut? Or put on some makeup?

Some higher being must’ve felt pity for you since the steam from the shower fogged the glass, preventing you from tearing yourself apart any further. Stepping underneath the warm stream, you let the warmth seep into your muscles, then bones, filling every fracture and break with a temporary sense of wholeness until the emptiness of your heart and home caused it slowly to drip out until it, along with you, was gone.

---

The next morning, you weren’t motivated to do anything. You lounged around the house, sipping on coffee and browsing on your phone for furniture, clothes, even sneaking a peak at some pianos. Wanting to invest in one you’d use for the next several decades, you had put off buying one until the money from your contract with the orchestra started in a month. You were still well off, nowhere near struggling and probably wouldn’t ever be unless you decided to buy a mansion (which was a no). You just wanted to be careful.

In the afternoon, you popped a pain killer and muscle relaxer in preparation for the few hours you wanted to practice. Thirty minutes went by and the ever-present ache in your shoulder calmed enough to let you practice with relative peace. Sitting on the bench in front of the keyboard, you pondered what you might play to warm up.

Hmm, maybe a Chopin prelude? Short, emotional, familiar.

Your left hand held the soft deep chords as your right hand softly flitted around the higher notes. Breathing in and out with the music, you tried to ignore the ache that start to surround your shoulder.

Playing the last few notes, you paused before reaching over to the bottle of painkillers.

---

Shortly after finishing up, you dragged a small table outside next to the wooden bench swing that was hanging on the porch. Bundled up in a soft sweatshirt, long-sleeve shirt, wool lined leggings, fuzzy socks and slippers, you brought out your hot tea, several blankets, a pillow, and a book you had been meaning to read for months. You were determined to do something besides practice, watch TV, and scroll on your phone.

You settled onto the bench, wrapping the blanket around you, nice and toasty from the layers trapping in the heat of a thorough practice session. The extra medication had really helped keep the pain at bay. Tentatively sipping the steaming cup, you closed your eyes to further appreciate the sweet tones of peach and honey. Setting the cup in your lap with one hand, you used your other hand to flip open to the first page.

---

Bucky hadn’t expected the mission to get so complicated. Finding the base was one thing, navigating in and out of the expansive maze was another. It took a few days to successfully get the target out and back to the embassy. He hadn’t properly slept during that time due to taking shifts with Sam. Not that it was any different from how he slept at home.

The sun was letting its last few rays bless the earth when he turned onto the driveway. Taking it easy on the gravel, he eased his posture and slowed the bike. He put pressure on the brakes as he made it past the final wall of trees that hid the water that was reflecting the last bit of color left in the sky. Rolling casually into a stop, he parked and let out a deep breath, shoulders sinking.

A stray bird calling out turned his attention in the direction of your house. The porch light was on. That’s new, he thought. Squinting his eyes, he saw a bundle on the porch swing. Was that you? Quietly walking over while taking his leather gloves off, he confirmed his suspicions. There you were, lying on your side propped up by a large fuzzy pillow. Eyes closed and breathing rhythmically. Scanning the scene, he noticed the mug on the side table, empty except for the used teabag. Your book was closed, the page you were on marked by one of your fingers. You must’ve fallen asleep while reading.

“Hey…” Bucky said gently. No response besides a small nose scrunch.

He repeated himself a little louder, squatting to be at eye level while gently setting his hand on your arm and shaking you lightly. You groaned this time, eyes fluttering open, taking a moment to focus. You squinted and pushed yourself up into a sitting position, losing your place in the book and attempting to blink the heavy drowsiness from your eyes.

“Bucky?” You questioned hoarsely as you met his eyes. He was still crouching so you were looking slightly down at him. Brow furrowed, you searched the blue of his eyes before looking around to see how dark it had gotten. As you turned your head back to him, he stood back up, scratching the back of his neck just to occupy his hands.

“It’s starting to get cold. I didn’t want you to spend the rest of the night out here.” He explained, choosing to look out at the water, now dark. When he turned his head back, you had also turned your head to look at the water, exposing the side of your neck, the tendons and clavicle accentuated by the strain. Bucky swallowed and your eyes met his, oblivious.

“Ah, thank you. I must’ve fallen asleep reading. I just started going back to physical therapy so I’ve just been so wiped… Anyway,” you said, dismissing yourself mid-thought. He didn’t want to hear about all that. “…did you just come back from a mission?” You eyed the diagonal cuts of leather on his jacket, noting the missing sleeve that exposed the glint of the metal.

“Yeah. I was gone for a few days.”

“Okay. I’m glad you’re home safe.” You mindlessly said, picking up the book and other various items strewn about.

Home safe. What an unfamiliar phrase.

As the words echoed in his mind, you had opened the door and stepped in, turning your head slightly to look back at him.

“Thanks again… Good night.”

“Good night.” Bucky replied, watching as you shut the door softly behind you.

Slowly walking down the porch steps, he crossed the driveway to the garage. Turning his head just in time to see the last light turn off in your house, he stood with his hand on the knob, meditating on the effect that one short sentence had on him.

Glad you’re home safe. Was this what it was like when you had someone waiting on you at home? The tired eyes and gentle smile. Would that be what it was like when he came home in the middle of a night from a mission when he had someone to share a bed with? Gently shaking them to let them know he was home? Or would he try to sneak into bed without waking them? He tried to imagine what that sort of intimacy would be like as he entered his apartment and then his room. Unzipping his jacket and tossing it over a chair, he stripped down to his boxer briefs and climbed into bed, wondering what it would be like if it was already warm.

#bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #SoundCloud

52 notes · View notes

izzy-b-hands · 4 years

Text

Christmas Morning

A Soft Xmas morning fic with Sledge and Snafu for my friend @peachessir! Thank you for the prompt, and I hope this fic makes your day better!!

This song came up while I was writing, and I feel it fits p well with the emotion of this fic, so here it is for y’all as well!: https://open.spotify.com/track/5b43XehPlGYoOGjl9AncUV?si=pVQhOYuaQiyh-PPLL6WgYQ

re: part of this fic, here’s my reference for it. Also just a cool reference to look through, tbh: https://vintagedancer.com/1940s/1940s-mens-accessories-history/

For reference, this is set as like, their second holiday back home after the war. So they’ve got a routine kind of, but home still doesn’t necessarily feel like home yet. Written sort of out of my other hc where I have them in Maryland for a bit after the war,in this one they are already in Mobile, having taken over Eugene’s parents old house as their home, his parents have a new house elsewhere in town. Still keeping all their pets though because...well, I want to lol.

Okay, that bit of housekeeping done, below the cut is the fic!

The bed was shaking, violently, as he woke.

“Get your ass up, we got presents to open!”

Eugene attempted to mumble the thoughts in his head, from ‘but didn’t we open everything at my parent’s house last night?’ to ‘is four o’clock in the fucking morning??’, but was too half-asleep to manage it as Snafu helped him downstairs, the cats and dog traipsing after them, meowing and barking for an early breakfast.

“Okay kids, simmer! Lemme get your papa sat down here and then I’ll get you fed, let you outside for a bit,” Snafu soothed as he led Eugene to the couch near their Christmas tree.

He blinked to try and wake up as Snafu went off to tend the children, and looked to the tree.

Presents. Why were there more presents? Not many, only four actually, but they’d taken everything they’d bought for each other over to his parent’s last night, to be opened on Christmas Eve. Today, Christmas Day, was their recovery day after having been around family so much.

“You ready?” Snafu dropped onto the couch beside him, nearly in his lap.

“I think so? But where did those-”

“You’ll see once you start opening,” Snafu interrupted, and went over the tree, nearly tripping on the edges of the too-long open bathrobe he wore over his pajamas. “Here, you go first.”

Eugene barely caught the gaudily wrapped box., and read the tag. “To Sledgehammer from...Burgie? How the hell-”

Snafu only smiled at him expectantly, so he tore into the paper and opened the box.

Inside were two of the nicest crystal glasses he’d ever seen, engraved with their names, and a note: ‘I know you might not be able to have a church wedding, but y’all are essentially married now and deserve a nice wedding gift. My pa is the one who did the engraving, he wishes you all the best as well. When you two next come out to Texas, wrap these up and bring ‘em with, and we’ll have a toast to you both, and to being home. All my love, Burgie.’

“Next one’s for me, from one of the...” he sighed, and his voice shook just a bit. “From one of the boys I fought with in Gloucester. His mother sent it along this year, said it was meant for last but she...she wasn’t ready to send it yet. Guess he’d had her save some things, so he could send ‘em to us after we all got home.”

Eugene carefully set the box with the glasses in the kitchen, away from where the cats liked to jump, and joined him on the floor near the tree, wrapping him in a gentle hug.

“This asshole,” Snafu laughed, even as the tears dripped down his face. “Look.”

He took the box from Snafu, and bit back a laugh. It was a set of poker chips, and a note: ‘Next time you can come around my neck of the woods, we’re gonna play again, and I’m gonna win this time. You just got lucky, last time. Can’t wait to see you again, Snafu.’

“Nah, you won buddy,” Snafu said softly, his eyes somewhere else as they filled again with tears, and he set the box near the tree. “He should have too, I really did just get lucky that game. God I miss him.”

He held onto Snafu for the next few minutes, letting him sob and remember. He hadn’t gotten to meet this particular company member, but he wished he had.

Snafu pulled away from him, and handed over another box. “Next one is for both of us, technically. But I want you to open it.”

He took the light box, so light it seemed nothing would be in it, and opened it carefully.

He nearly dropped it then, but held on with shaking hands.

It was a letter. From Ack Ack, to both of them. Talking about how while neither of them had come straight out with how they felt about each other, he was glad they weren’t really hiding it otherwise, and he promised them safety, from other soldiers and anyone who might say anything to him about it. How he knew war was pain and loss and fear, but he was glad all the same it had brought them together, and he hoped they’d be happy together once they made it home, because he knew in his heart they would.

Snafu was crying again when he looked up from the letter. “Read it before I wrapped it. Burgie found it, and saved it when they were packing up Ack Ack’s things to send home. He sent it along with the glasses, and asked me to make sure it was a separate gift. Said Ack Ack would have wanted it that way.”

They fell into each other’s arms again, openly weeping. It was a wound that they both knew would never fully heal, none of the losses would. But it was still so open and fresh now, that as wonderful as it was to have more of Ack Ack’s words, it almost hurt just as much, because he would never get to say them to them, never meet them in a city in the States for a drink and reminiscing.

Once they’d both settled again, holding back the rest of the tears, pushing the hurt back down to where it usually sat, Snafu took the letter and walked to the desk in the corner of the living room. He pulled a frame from the drawer of it, and placed the letter in it.

“Bought this for it as soon as I got Burgie’s stuff in the mail. Wanted to wait till you’d seen it too before putting it up somewhere though. Can you imagine what he’d say, if he knew we were hangin’ his letter up? He’d rag on us for ages,” Snafu sniffed, but smiled as he brought the letter back over, and settled it on one of the spare nails in the wall near the entrance of the living room that they’d not yet managed to fill.

“He would,” Eugene managed a laugh, and though it hurt it felt good all the same. “Wish he could see it.”

“Me too,” Snaf sighed, and went back to grab the last present. “You get to open this one too.”

“This is from you,” Eugene smiled. “You already spoiled the hell outta me, what else did you possibly get me?”

“Something that I didn’t have with me overseas, but that I wanted to give you. Part of courtin’ your cute ass, that I finally get to do, even though we’re past that.”

The box was small, and gorgeously wrapped. How on earth Snafu had even found the paper, Eugene didn’t know. He notoriously hated the shops as it got close to the holiday, but all he could envision was Snafu having gone in specifically to find the blue and white paper, with artfully drawn snowflakes on it. He half-hated to tear it, but he was also curious as could be, and Snafu was clearly just as excited.

He opened it carefully as he could, and opened the box.

“Had my family in New Orleans send it to me. One of the only things I left there. Shoulda heard them on the phone, going on about how they knew I’d never give it to a girl like the other boys did. But I finally found the person who’s supposed to have it,” Snafu said. “It ain’t much, but-”

Eugene interrupted him with a kiss, before returning to the box, which held Snafu’s ID bracelet. It had been and as far as he knew for some still was a common thing for a man to give to his girl, to show they were together and that it wasn’t a passing fling. And him and Snafu certainly were no passing fling.

He put on the bracelet, then gave Snafu another kiss. “Be right back.”

“Where are you goin’?”

“Gimme a minute!” Eugene called back down as he found his bracelet, and jogged back downstairs, dodging the cats as they trotted by him.

Snafu took the ID bracelet from him with a reverent look. “This...this is big. Everyone’ll know. I mean, I think most of ‘em know already in town or suspect and everybody’s kind enough to keep any thoughts to themselves, but-”

The tears were back again, happy tears this time as Snafu put on the bracelet.

“I know,” Eugene interrupted. “I know...we have to be careful. But most everyone knows us round here now, and we’ve been fine. So I want them to know now. If I’m gonna be wearing yours, I want you wearing mine, along with our rings, and I want everyone to know you’re mine and I’m yours.”

It was half warm embrace, half tackle as Snafu climbed into his lap, nearly tipping him over with the enthusiasm of his movements, shrugging off his robe as he kissed Eugene like it was all he knew how to do.

Eugene fussed with his own robe and pajama top, trying to get them off and tossed behind him to soften the hardwood floor somewhat as he lay back, pulling Snafu with him.

In a few moments they were down to just their underwear and the bracelets and their rings, the jewelry glinting in the soft morning light from the sun just starting to rise, and Eugene thought if he would ever see an angel in his life, then it would look like Snafu did now. Warm and soft and transcendent, moaning every time Eugene ran his hands through his curls, sighing with every kiss, heated skin melting against his own.

By the time they’d finally paused enough to toss aside their underwear, they were both too close for much more, Eugene knew that for sure. In the way Snafu rutted against him, whining sweetly, whispering love and admiration in his ear as he left hickeys on his neck. In the way he wanted nothing more than to come across Snafu’s stomach and to feel Snafu come on his, to reach that high together and lay in the heat of the moment after.

He didn’t have to wait long for it, between their continued feverish kissing and roaming hands and the occasional nip on his chest and shoulder from Snafu (who loved nothing more than leaving marks and having marks left on him.) It was perfect in its timing, both of them coming within a moment of each other, Snafu moaning into his shoulder as his hips and cock crashed against Eugene’s, while Eugene used a hand to pull them as close together as he could.

It was silent then. The cats and dog happy moving about the house on their own, no cars on the road outside. Just the sunlight streaming in, and their limbs intertwined as they came down together, kissing gently. It was another world, and Eugene never wanted to leave it, to look anywhere other than Snafu’s gorgeous eyes.

For the next few minutes at least, he knew he didn’t have to. Snafu was clearly just as comfortable and enamored with the moment, smiling and running a hand through Eugene’s hair while the other pulled him near, though they were about as close as any two bodies could be. But it was never quite close enough for them, and if closer ever existed he knew they’d jump on it in a heartbeat.

“This was a good Christmas, wasn’t it?” Snafu asked, breaking the silence.

“It was,” Eugene sighed. “Know what I’m lookin’ forward to, though?”

“Can’t be cleanin’ up what we just did,” Snafu smiled. “Only downside to doin’ anything down here. Least we had your robe down for part of this.”

Eugene nodded. “True. But I’m lookin’ forward to havin’ more good Christmases like this with you.”

“Me too,” Snafu replied, snuggling close. “You know we can’t fall asleep down here like this, right? I’m gonna get up in a minute, get us cleaned up.”

“Sure,” Eugene chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Snafu, and watched Snafu’s eyes flutter shut, fighting to keep himself awake. “I’ll wake you in ten.”

“Mmhm,” was Snafu’s only response as they snuggled amongst the torn wrapping paper in the sun, warm and happy.

#text post #LeeH writes #Sledgefu

6 notes · View notes