Summary: Louis is sixteen years old when he realizes that his father is still alive.
this is like. the most self-indulgent bittersweet fluff i have ever written in my whole life but there was no two ways about it, i had to. anyways, note that i have played so utterly fast and loose with historical accuracy that it’s not even funny, but also note that these characters deserve to be happy and to raise a good son because they are actually made by god to be parents this is like, canon, okay, anyways i hope anne and aramis live happily ever after into the sun and aramis gets to tell as many dad jokes as he wants. love u bye. much love to @hansolosbutt, @emilybrontay and @elsaclack (who hasnt even watched this show but proofread for me anyway because shes the real mvp).
Louis is five, he quickly realizes that Aramis is not, in fact, going to be his
new servant. Aramis is in the palace a lot more than he was before – before,
when everything was a little different and Papa was still around. But he wears
pretty blue clothes and Mama says he is the First Minister of France, and that
that is an important position, and that his job is to help her rule Louis’s
people until Louis is old enough and wise enough to do so himself.
Louis wonders if he will ever be
wise. He is not wholly sure what the word means, only that it is something that
makes you a person people like, and that Madame d’Chevreaux, who has been hired
as his new governess, says it is a word that describes Mama well. Wise despite her youth, is what Madame d’Chevreaux had said, helping to
button him into his tunic in the morning, three weeks after Papa stopped coming
to wake him in the mornings and he had his adventure with Madame d’Artagnan in
the streets of Paris. You would do
well to learn from her, your Majesty.
Madame d’Chevreaux likes Mama very
much, which is why Louis supposes she is his new governess. His old governess,
Mademoiselle Dufraimont, always went tight in the lips when Mama was in the
room. Papa liked her, but Louis thought her smiles were too pinched.
Louis likes it when people have
nice smiles, and Aramis has the best of smiles. He is not always smiling, Louis
knows. He has seen him talking to the council, standing taller than everyone
with a snap to his voice and a clench in his jaw. He has seen him speaking
extra quietly with Mama, sometimes, their heads bent over important state
papers. He has seen the crease between his brows when he carried him the first
time, through the streets of Paris with Mama on his other side. But he is
always smiling at Louis, it seems, with a twinkle in his eyes that Louis likes
very much. And when Aramis is smiling, Mama is also smiling, so Louis supposes
that even if Aramis isn’t his new servant, he would very much like him to stay
a long while, just so that Mama smiles more. She didn’t used to smile nearly as
much, before when Papa still woke him up in the mornings, unless she was
smiling at Louis. Mama always smiled when she looked at Louis, just as Aramis
always smiles at him now.
But now Mama smiles when she looks
at others as well. Louis likes Mama dearly when she smiles. It lights up her
whole face; it’s such a nice smile.
When she turned three he called it house. Uncle Itachi was taking her out today, Papa would tell her at breakfast. Won’t that be so fun? Mama would ask. So they’d eat breakfast and Papa would help her get ready but she’d demand that Mama picked her clothes because Papa had no taste. And then by noon Uncle Itachi would be over, his hair looking as shiny as Auntie Ino’s and his suit crisp and fitted. He would pick her up and kiss her cheek and they’d say goodbye to Mama and Papa and when they got in the car (Uncle Itachi had a purple car seat just for her), Uncle Itachi would suggest they play house.
“I’ll be the Papa,” he would tell her, “and you can be my baby.”
Sarada would nod. “Okay, Papa.” The title felt weird because Uncle Itachi wasn’t her Papa at all (he dressed much better, for example) but Sarada always loved to play Uncle Itachi’s game.
Summary: an American forensic psychologist hired by Mycroft Holmes. You thought it would be more interesting and fulfilling than your previous job with a law firm in London but you had no idea how much it would change your life. Or really, how much one person would change everything.
Word count: 4480
Some lines borrowed from The sign of three in BOLD
It was quiet in the bedroom when you woke. You stretched while scanning the room and both the other side of the bed and the crib were empty. You slid off the bed and pulled your over-sized sweater on then strolled down the hall into the kitchen. Mrs. Hudson was sitting at the table and Will’s booster seat was on the chair next to her along with a messy plate with bits of leftover pancake but no Will. She turned in her seat and smiled. You questioned her silently with a glance at Will’s chair and she pointed to the sitting room.
You walked to the doorway and heat bloomed in your chest. Sherlock was in his chair clearly working a case out in his head and Will was sitting indian style in John’s chair mimicking him right down to the steepled fingers. You turned back to Mrs. Hudson with a grin and whispered, “how long have they been like that?”
“About ten minutes or so. It’s adorable. I don’t know how Will does it.” She tilted her head down and her brow rose, ‘I want a picture.”
You couldn’t argue with her and rushed back to the bedroom for your phone. You walked quietly into the room to get the right angle to capture both of them and hoped Will wouldn’t move. Mrs. Hudson was right, this was adorable. You took a few shots just in case then walked back into the kitchen. Mrs. Hudson put a cup of coffee on the table then looked at the pictures with you. “I want a copy.”
She glanced back at the sitting room. “They’re getting along quite well. I never thought I’d see the day, Sherlock a daddy.”
You put your phone down and picked up your coffee gazing through the doorway at Sherlock. “I did. I knew it wouldn’t be easy but… I had a feeling he’d be good with Will.” You pictured your father running around the back yard with you and sitting down at his easel as he taught you primary colors and the importance of brush strokes.
“Your parents would’ve been so proud of you.” Mrs. Hudson’s smile was warm and her gaze soft but then something caused you to look closer. She turned looking at Sherlock but you could still make out the smirk and the crinkle at the corner of her eye. “I don’t know how they’d feel about your choice in men, though.”
You chuckled, “you love him. Don’t even try to pretend.”
I pulled into my parent’s driveway around 7:30. I got my bag and phone and walked to the front door. I rang the doorbell and my dad answered the door. “(Y/n), honey what’s wrong”? “Nothing daddy, I just thought I’d visit you and Mama.”, I said looking at him through my teary eyes. “(Y/n), what’s wrong? Was it Nate? Do I need to beat some ass”, he said. “No daddy, everything’s fine. Where’s Mama? “She went to go get your Nephew from (Y/sister/name)’s house”. “Oh okay, imma go take a shower”.
When you turned the water off, you heard giggles and little screams of excitement coming from the living room. You dried you hair and put on some clothes. You then noticed you grabbed one of Nate’s shirts not thinking since you slept in one every night. You smelled his cologne from the shirt and all you wanted to do was run back to him but you didn’t want him to think what he did was okay. You put in on anyways and headed to the living room. “(Y/n), well isn’t this a surprise”, you mama said. “Auntie (Y/n)!”, your nephew screamed and attacked you. “Oh my goodness hello”, you giggled. “(y/n), are you hungary? Is Nate coming later?”. “No mama i’m not hungary and no he isn’t coming”, you said quietly. “Well i’m glad you’re here honey”, she said kissing the top of your head.
Bedtime rolled around and (Y/nephew/n) insisted on sleeping with me tonight and reading him a story. “What story would you like tonight little man”, you asked him. “Here”, he said handing you the book. You both got situated and began to read the story. When you went to turn the page, your nephew gasped. “ Oh no auntie (y/n) you’ve got a huge boo boo.”, he exclaimed. “Oh, um its okay. I just umm fell the other day yea fell”, you smiled at him reassuringly. “It looks like someone hurt you”, he said looking at me with his crystal blue eyes. “It’ll be okay I promise”, I said while kissing his nose. “No, he said getting out of bed. We need to show Grandma right now”, he said running to my parents room. “No, no,no! Come Back Here Right Now”, you whisper yelled. But it was too late.
“So (y/n), what to tell us how that bruise really got onto your arm”?, my mom asked. “Look I told, I fell at work the other day, its not a big deal mom”, I said looking down. My mom then walked over and pulled my head up with her hands. “(Y/N), tell me the truth honey, what happend”, she said. “(Y/n) please tell us honey, we won’t be mad”, my dad said stepping closer. “Look Nate was high and drunk and he accused me of doing things that weren’t true and he got out of hand”, i said while some tears fell out of my eyes.
“Dad, DAD, DADDY! Get back in the house please”, you yelled from the front door. “HE HURT MY BABY, he yelled back. THAT SON OF A BITCH ISN’T GETTING AWAY WITH THIS”! You finally got a hold of his shirt and look him in his eyes. “Dad, its 1in the morning, please get back inside. We can deal with this tomorrow daddy, please. Look I’ll never see him again okay”, you said pleadingly. “Honey, please come back inside, its late and your scaring (Y/nephew’s,n), your mom said. “Fine, but you’re are done with Nate Maloley, (y/n) okay”? “Yes Sir”, you said.
We finally all went back inside and me and (Y/nephew’s/n) went back to my bedroom. We got back into bed and were laying there in the silence, until I heard a little voice. “Auntie (Y/n), i’m sorry I told. I thought Uncle Nate hurt you”, he said quietly. “It’s okay baby, you did the right thing”, you said. And with that you both feel asleep.
The next morning both of your parents went to work and your sister would be by around 5 to pick your nephew up. It was around 12 and you were making pizza for lunch. All of a sudden you heard the doorbell ring. When you opened the door you saw your first. Your first kiss, your first i love you, your first heart break, Nate. “Nate”, you said shocked. “Hey baby”, he said looking so guilty. “Don’t baby me Nate”, you said with your head down. “You’re wearing my shirt”,he said happily.”Yea, I grabbed it by accident”. “You always look good in my clothes lil mama”.”Nate, don’t do this please, you pleaded. “Auntie (Y/n), is the pizza ready, (y/nephew/n) said running toward you. “Hey buddy”, Nate said to him. “You’re the monster that hurt my Auntie”,he said angrily. “Hey why don’t you go play in the living room buddy, I said. “No, I have to make sure he doesn’t hurt you again”, he said boldly. Nate then got onto his level and look my nephew into his eyes. “Look buddy, you know i love her so much and didn’t mean to hurt her. I was scared she was going to leave me forever. And I thought she didn’t love me anymore. I love her so much buddy. Do you think I could talk to her alone”, he said. “Sure but only 5 minutes Uncle Nate”, he said pointing to his eye then pointing to Nate.
“(Y/n), you got a bodyguard now”, Nate said giggling. “You know it’s not a bad idea”, you said truthfully. “(Y/n), baby you know that I didn’t mean it. I was scared and I thought I was going to loose the love of my life baby”, he said. “NATE!, WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I WOULD EVER CHEATED ON YOU! YOU WERE MY FIRST EVERYTHING! I’VE BEEN WITH YOU FOR 6 YEARS. AND I WORK WITH NURSES ALL DAY. YOU’VE BROUGHT ME LUNCH BEFORE AND YOU KNOW THERE’S ONLY 2 GUYS IN MY POSITION AT THE HOSPITAL. AND ONE IS MARRIED AND THE OTHER IS GAY!, you shouted in his face and kept pushing on his chest. While doing that, he finally saw the bruise on your arm. His lip started quivering and his eyes started to fill with tears. He then broke down and i’ve never seen Nate cry this much, not even at his grandfather’s funeral ( hey guys, its me and idk if his grandfather is dead or not its just a imagine so yea okay love you guys byeeee). “(Y/n) please baby, I want you to know this, I know I did wrong, and I’ll never do it again. I love you babygirl. Please forgive me and take me back. I’ll never hurt you again. I’ll let you win every fight. I’ll never cause you another heartbreak, I love you baby, please come home with me baby”, he said while crying. “Look Nate, I need to think about this okay”, you said half smiling. “I don’t want you to think that you think this is okay and that you’ve got anyway with it”, I said to him.
2 Months Later
It’s been two months since my little discussion with Nate. And I’ve talked with my parents, my sister, and my best friends and got their opinions. So I called Nate to tell him my decision. “Hello Nate”, I said, “Baby, hey it’s so nice to hear your voice”, he said. I could see his dimple smile through the phone. “You still got a place in your heart for me”?, I asked. “Baby you never left me heart”, he said making my heart pound even harder. “I’m coming home baby”, you said.
When you are an expecting mom, you kind of feel obligated to take advice from people who are already moms because, hey… They’ve been there & done that. But nothing will ever beat your motherly instincts. Don’t feel obligated to let your baby cry it out. Hold your baby. Comfort your baby. Keep them close for as long as possible. Don’t feel like you have to nurse your baby on a schedule. Nursing is more than just filling an empty stomach. You are your baby’s safe place. You are your baby’s warmth. Nurse your baby and nurse often. One of the most important things I’ve learned being a first time mom is parent from your heart. Do what you feel is best for you and your baby and don’t let others take away from your own motherhood experience.
Suzukaze or Marx reacting to F.Kamui being pregnant again with their second child (Kanna). Kamui can drop creative hints, but they are oblivious to it until she has to out right say it. They're shocked but really happy, and celebrate with a kiss ^_^
[Why not both? :D]
(Want to change the name? Use this!)
Suzukaze: You asked him to come into the kitchen after the startling revelation you made the other day. You consulted about four different healers, each one an expert in their field and could indeed confirm for you there was a little bun in the oven. You expected Suzu to be just as ecstatic as you were, but you didn’t want it to be outright.
You had been blunt with him when Midoriko had been born, so now it was time to get a little creative. Considering his attention to detail, it shouldn’t be too difficult for him to figure it out.
*cough* so here is my fluff/smut. Not going to lie, kinda nervous considering the amazing smut talent in this fandom. Hope you guys like it, and if you’re interested in reading more about Isabel, you can find the rest of the SFW pieces on AO3
The hot springs below Skyhold, coupled with the ancient magic that
cling to its bones, keeps the fortress livable in the mountaintops.
It is, however, not immune to the rapidly changing weather systems
that plague the Frostbacks. Waking to a blanket of snow is not uncommon,
though it’s usually melted by midday. Isabel is roused by the bracing
chill air on one such morning, and she is loath to leave her warm bed in
exchange for the training yard. When she does finally emerge, her breath
is puffing out before her in smoky tendrils. Cullen is already running
drills. Isabel’s rank and her relationship with her general afford her
certain privileges, unlike a tardy recruit. Her late arrival is met
with the commander’s crooked grin and warm eyes, instead of a dressing-down and
twenty laps around the fortress, in full plate armor.
“Good morning, commander.” Isabel resists the urge to kiss
him good morning, resists the urge to take his hand and embrace him, and
resists calling him by name, knowing it would cause her to flush.
Affection was becoming easier, and it was the absence of it in front of
the soldiers and court that was becoming difficult.
“Inquisitor, it’s good of you to join us.” The low timbre of
his voice warmed her in the cool morning air.
She grabbed a training sword and paired up with an awed recruit,
slashing and blocking to Cullen’s curt orders. Muscle memory takes over,
and she gives the new recruit a sore shield arm. Cullen walks through the
ranks, correcting stances, adjusting swords and shields as he goes. He stops
by her partner, fixing the young woman’s grip, and when she slashes next it
rings in Isabel’s shield arm. Isabel praises her, and Cullen grins before
moving on to the next pair. The morning moves forward, the snow on the ground
melting and sticking to the bottoms of boots.
“Maker’s balls!” Cullen’s sudden angry curse breaks Isabel’s
focus. She looks up in time to see Cullen take what must be a second snowball
to the side of his head. Somewhere above her she hears Sera’s distinct
peal of laughter.
She shouldn’t laugh, but his look of pure indignation and the snow
on his face and hair has Isabel giggling. She covers her mouth, trying to
stifle herself; it would not do to be laughing at Cullen in front of his
recruits. He catches her eyes and she’s biting her lip, offering a
halfhearted sorry, trying her best to stem the flow of laughter. She
can’t stop,that is, until she gets pelted with a snowball smack dab in the
middle of her face. The recruits have stopped their drills. They
watch wide-eyed as their commander and inquisitor are targeted by the
morning prank. Unsure if their laughter would be as easily forgiven as
Sera’s. The snow falls from Isabel’s face with a splat, and it’s Cullen who
snorts out a chuckle first.
“Sera!” Isabel looks up towards her usual perch on the
tavern roof, trying to sound angry and serious.
“That one wasn’t me!” The elf argues, pointing towards the
“Chargers, take aim!” Bull gives her a wicked grin. He
signals to his boys to throw their arsenal of snowballs at not only Isabel and
Cullen, but the recruits as a whole.
“Commander, it seems we’re under attack.” She blocks her
face but gets pelted in the back of the head, the snow dripping down the back
of her tunic. She squeals at the cold, a high pitched ridiculous sound.
“Recruits, your Inquisitor is under attack, defend her at all
costs. To arms!” Cullen is the first to bend and pack a handful of
snow, aiming at Krem. “Attack!” His war cry was loud and resonated
throughout the training field.
Isabel could only laugh, leaving herself open to more than a few
snowballs. She was fairly certain Sera was aiming for her lower back,
trying to get snow into her breeches. Her suspicion is confirmed when she feels
a handful of snow slide between her cheeks. Isabel yelps and dances
away to hide behind Cullen, throwing what she can while using him as cover.
The recruits, feeling playful, and confident there will be no lasting
repercussions, started turning on their commander in the chaos.
“Cullen, I believe we may be overrun.” Isabel’s breathless,
her nose bright red and her cheeks pink and indented with rarely seen dimples.
“Traitors!” he calls out before earning them both a new
volley. He grins at her, his carefully combed hair damp and curling, his
face flushed. “Inquisitor, I’m calling a retreat.” He takes her
hand, giving her an impish grin. “Follow me.”
He holds tight to her hand, and starts running, practically
dragging her along, she has no choice but to follow him, and soon she’s only a
stride behind him. They climb the steps up to the ramparts.
Isabel doesn’t need to look behind her to know they’re being pursued, but
they have a good head start. Cullen’s sudden retreat took Bull and the
others by surprise. Cullen nearly yanks her arm off as he turns down the
stairs towards the garden. Below, Mother Giselle and the other
sisters and clerics are exiting the small chantry from ringing in Terce.
Cullen gives her a crooked grin. He half-catches her when he
suddenly slows to a walk and she is nearly toppled by the change of pace. He’s
still holding her hand, but his grip has relaxed. He whispers a soft
sorry under his breath. He nods to Mother Giselle and Isabel imitates the
action; she gives them a warm smile as they slip into the now empty chantry.
Cullen drops her hand once inside and closes the door.
“What is your game?” Isabel asks, but Cullen covers her
mouth, his hand shushing her.
“Quiet.” He pulls his hand away, and with the other on her
waist walks her backwards beside the door, until she bumps softly against the
wall. “Listen.” His amber eyes are glowing in the candlelight, his
lopsided grin never leaving his face.
Outside there is a distinct commotion as their opponents invade
the sanctity of the garden. The Revered Mother Giselle intercepts them quickly
and is not amused in the slightest. Isabel’s eyes widen and she bites her
lower lip when she hears snippets of conversation: “this is a place of
reflection, people come here for refuge, the Inquisitor has many rare herbs and
plants growing.” Bull’s deep voice mumbled an apology.
Sera curses. “Acting like children, you should be ashamed…no,
the commander and inquisitor are at morning prayers, you will not disturb them.
Out, you are supposed to be examples…I said out!” They
wait, and outside there is the crunch of snow as their opponents leave,
defeated. Inside, Isabel is still biting her lower lip, Cullen’s hand is
still on her hip, and his thumb tracing circles against her damp clothes.
“You knew that would happen.”
“Revered Mother’s and Chantry sisters are especially good at
scolding and making you feel like a child again. Of course I knew it
would happen.” Cullen looks especially pleased with himself; he looks
younger, happy, and particularly smug.
“Of course, you say. I thought you were the perfect example
of a templar in training. I can’t imagine you were scolded very often.”
Isabel can’t help but smirk right alongside him, running her fingers
through his damp pauldrons until they link behind his neck.
“No, not often, but there was this one time.” He pulls her
closer, pressing her against the wall, hands splaying against her hips.“I got
caught kissing a pretty girl in the chantry.”
He covers her mouth with his before she can exclaim her disbelief.
Her lips mold against his easily, quick and eager, a small hum rumbling
in her chest when his hips press flush against hers. Cullen feels her
tongue on his lip and he opens to her, welcoming the velvet press and taste. He
runs his still gloved fingers up her sides, a feather light caress against
breasts, and he feels rather than hears the small moan it pulls from her.
He breaks the kiss, her lips are swollen and her face is flushed
highlighting the dusting of light freckles against her cheeks. Cullen
watches her as he drags a thumb against a clothed nipple, his scarred lip
lifting in a lazy grin when she bites her lower lip. He runs his thumb
against her lower lip, and breathes out sharply when her pink tongue darts out,
followed by a playful nip of her teeth. He gropes her breasts rolling her
nipples between his fingers, and Isabel squeezes her eyes closed and rolls her
hips before opening them again, bright flint grey eyes watching him through
lashes heavy with lust. He gives each breast one final squeeze, removing
his hands slowly, enjoying the weight of them, before bringing the fingers of
his leather gloves to his teeth, pulling them off. They fall to the
ground with a wet thud, and his fingers burn trails against her skin. They’re
followed shortly by his mouth nipping at her ears and neck his tongue tracing
her collarbone. She whimpers her approval, running fingers through his
hair, turning his head so she can gain access to his throat and ears.
“Aren’t there rules against this?” Isabel wonders, running
cool fingers into the band of his pants, feeling skin, and hard muscle and soft
hair before he pulled her fingers away, bringing them to his lips to kiss.
“Actually, there aren’t, I checked.” He twines her fingers
with his, dropping his head to her jaw and neck, tongue and lips trailing a
“Of course you did,”she moans teasing him. She pulls her
hands away, finding his belt again, brushing the skin at his waist.
Cullen chuckles into her mouth, and takes her hands firmly in his.
“That tickles.” His voice is low, warning her.
Isabel smiles against his lips, and he nips at them before
bringing both of her wrists above her head. He holds her with one hand,
letting the other run through her hair, wisping across her neck, unclasping
buttons until he sees the top of her breast band. He tugs at the band,
loosening it to reveal the pale pink of her nipples, pebbled and hard from his
ministrations. He runs his fingers over her naked flesh reverently, and
she whispers his name like a prayer. He rolls his hips, letting her feel
the hard bulge before pulling away to unlace the top of her trousers. He
has his forehead against hers, and she’s looking up at him, her body taut as a
bow string, licking her lips, breathing quickly, and she’s pulling against his
grip every time he touches skin. He very slowly and deliberately
brushes his knuckles against her clothed mound, testing the waters. Her
mouth opens and a stuttering breath pulls through her lips.
“Is this alright?” he whispers, warm breath puffing against
her cheeks. He stills his hands and waits, unsure for a moment. Their
physical relationship had been relatively tame up until this point;Isabel has
run from him once before, afraid of getting involved. She doesn’t want
him to doubt and brings her lips up to his, not quite a kiss, sliding her
fevered skin against his. She inhaled his scent, which has mingled with
the incense and candles of the chantry.
“Yes, Cullen, it’s alright.” Isabel nods, the words barely
audible. Cullen brushes his knuckles over her mound again, claiming her
lips in a hungry kiss, dropping her hands so that he can cup her face, kissing
her hard and touching her.
Isabel finds the hand that is cupping her clothed sex. He’s
rubbing her gently, teasing, barely any pressure and her hips move in tandem
with his hand. She wants more, but her mouth can’t form words, so she
interlaced her fingers with his, guiding his hand, slipping him into her pants,
past her smalls.
Cullen can feel her heat, and he’s moaning into her mouth when he
feels how wet she is, her calloused fingers guiding his own, showing him
exactly how she wants him to touch her. He circles her clit, and
her legs buckle; he slides a thigh between hers and circles her clit again. Her
free hand is pulling at the hair at the base of his skull, bringing him closer;
she is angling her head to deepen the frantic kiss they’re sharing. He’s
sliding his fingers through her wet folds until she pushes one of them into
her, breaking the kiss when her head falls back. He slides his finger
out, then in again, sucks her earlobe, nips at her neck while she bucks against
Isabel can feel him rock against her, and she skims a finger over
his clothed length. The kiss on her neck turns into a bite, sharp and
painful, and his groan is urgent. She’s pulling his head away from her
shoulder. She wants to taste the salt on his skin, she answers his bite
with one of her own, marking him. He hisses a breath in through his
teeth. Isabel’s fingers are shaking as they continue to guide Cullen’s
hand. She pushes another one of his fingers inside of her, and stifles a
loud keen against his pauldrons. She presses the heel of his hand down against
her clit and grinds, wanton and needy.
“Maker.” Cullen groans and shifts, reaching deeper. He
increases his pace and Isabel can only hold onto his wrist, letting him finish
what she helped start. She comes undone around his fingers, coating his
Isabel wants to scream and moan. She knows she shouldn’t but can’t
remember why; her clit and her cunt are pulsing staccatos and all she can
do is ride the wave, squeezing her eyes shut, biting the fur around Cullen’s
shoulders as pleasure takes hold. She’s shaking, white bursts breaking
under her closed lids, a ragged cry ripping from her throat, muffled by the
fur. She hangs onto him when her muscles relax, not able to stand on her
He pulls his hand from her pants, and tilts her head back so
he can see her flushed face, her mouth open and panting. Her scent
surrounds them and she is hyper-aware of his erection pressing hard against her
hip. She watches through heavy lids as he brings his fingers to his lips
and sucks, his eyes closing as he savors her taste. Her cheeks are
burning when she pulls those same fingers towards her, running her tongue over
them and tastes herself in turn.
“You are a wicked woman, Isabel,” he groans out, his cock
twitching against her as she sucks on his fingers.
“I daresay you’re worse than I am. After all, prayers should be
made while kneeling.” Emboldened by his obvious need she slides down the
wall, dragging his pants down as she goes, the cool air hitting his cock only
briefly before her mouth is on him.
“Isabel…we, should be getting back…we…should….” He swallows
hard as her tongue swipes over the tip, catching the precum that’s beading at
the head, tasting and teasing the tip before slowly taking more and more of him
into her. He glances down and is met with her eyes, his cock between her
lips, and achingly, teasingly she starts moving back and forth. She doesn’t
look away, and her tongue is speaking of heaven against his cock . Cullen
braces himself on the wall with both arms, resting his forehead on the cool
brick, not daring to take his eyes off what Isabel is doing.
He’s willing his hips to still, but she hums and slides her tongue
just so, and he feels himself react, his hips move to meet her, and he locks
his knees so they don’t buckle beneath him. She scratches pink lines
against his thighs, fingers tracing his hips and squeezes his ass. He bucks
into her again, earning another hum of approval. She scratches and
squeezes him encouragingly and he thrusts into her mouth until he’s moving at
the pace he needs. Her tongue never stops moving, pressing against his base,
sliding in contrast to the rest of her mouth, and he can barely breathe.
Her eyes flutter shut; he can feel her warm saliva slip down his balls,
and her mouth is warmth and wetness, her tongue driving him mad. He dags a hand
down to cup her face and touch her hair. Flint grey eyes open and stare
up with adoration, and she moans around him, urging him on, and it sends him
crashing into his climax with a strangled groan he can’t subdue. His
fingers grip her short hair tightly as her wicked tongue and lips milk him,
fingers squeezing hard against his ass, pulling him forward and deeper into her
mouth. When she finally pulls away she’s breathing hard and smiling up at
him; he’s soft and his entire body is shaking. He pulls her up to
standing and kisses her. It’s slow and purposeful, and he can taste
himself on her tongue and he growls into her mouth, her talented, evil, and
“You…are very good at that.” He laces his pants and pulls
her to him, hugging her, brushing his lips against her ear.
“You’re not the only one to get caught kissing in a chantry,
Cullen.” She smiles at him, and with one final adjustment to her tunic
pulls open the door. The air is cool, and they both hurry out of the
garden, purposefully not making eye contact with the Revered Mother.
They return to the courtyard, the melting snow turning the grounds
into a muddy quagmire. Bull has the chargers and recruits doing joint
drills. He gives them each a once over and shoots Isabel a look.
“Morning prayers, huh? Right.” He smirks at both of
them. Cullen clears his throat and looks away, and Isabel smiles despite
“Will I see you later? For dinner perhaps?” Cullen
drops his voice, taking her fingers in his.
“Dinner sounds perfect.” She gets on her toes and kisses his
cheek, squeezing his fingers. He blushes but doesn’t pull away from the show of
Cullen watches her go for a moment longer before schooling his
face into that of the Commander of the Inquisition. He makes sure to work
the recruits extra hard for their insubordination, regardless of how grateful
he was for the distraction.
Isabel hums the entire day, her cheeks aching from the unfamiliar
What is Love:
K Version. Baeksoo brought the soul. Kai’s SM contract forbade him to dance with a girl so he settled for a shirt. Chanyeol’s hair was awkward and Kris used all of the acting skills he’s ever going to get.
M Version. Chen and Luhan were perfect. Old clips from the teasers that were synced badly and looked cheap because SM doesn’t care.
K Version. The baggy pants dance song. Kai sung through his teeth. Yixing had fierce hand poses. Hard to decide if their fashion was futuristic or just a trainwreck.
M Version. Xiumin used all the hair gel. Kris looked really good. Luhan’s wardrobe hinted at his fetishes and Tao’s shirt came from the Kanye West collection of ripped and hole filled clothes.
K Version. Boring English intro that everyone skips. Druid costumes and poor English lyrics. The money for effects came out of M’s paychecks. Someone actually okay’d Kai’s screaming with lame tattoos on his face and neck as a credible scene.
M Version. Yixing owned this dance. Tao fought rose petals. Baekhyun and Chen do the same exact hand movements when they sing and Kai somehow was included in their dance break.
Miracles in December:
K&M Version. 12 guys were jerks to a girl and now they want her back, but she loves herself too much to give the time of a day. So Tao turns back time, but she still leaves because sad Christmas songs are lame.
K Version. The reason you hesitate when people ask what Kpop is. Somehow no one quit during the filming. Xiumin had black finger nails. Sehun was a rainbow. Kyungsoo had ruffled sleeves and Chanyeol’s bandana hat did NOT start a new fashion trend.
M Version. It’s just as bad.
K&M 1st Version. A one shot masterpiece that showed a simple schoolboy concept could be a winner. Tao and Luhan were sleeveless. Tao did his iconic dance. Sehun taught us how to spell and Yixing got his only solo dance spot in a Korean vid.
K&M Version. Korea’s Next Top Maze Runner. SM finally hired a stylist. Kris’ bucket hat warned us of his future baldness. Luhan had a man bun and Kai got struck by electricity.
Call Me Baby:
K&M Version. Cool cars that they were rented out using M’s paychecks. Everyone was pelvic thrusting. Sehun’s iconic line was uttered. Krishan was gone and Yixing was blonde.
Love Me Right:
K&M Version. Beautiful scenes that make no sense and connect no dots. Kai completely enjoyed himself. Chanyeol’s hair stylist wasn’t fired. SHAWTY IMA PARTY TIL THE SUNDOWN and watch the Chinese version for complete Yixing appreciation.
Let’s make one of our best songs but only use 3 members in the MV andddd not even play the whole song. Let’s even end it on a cliffhanger because everyone loves a good mystery.
Sing For You:
K&M Versions. More sad Christmas songs. D.O. carpooling to nowhere. Suho and Channie’s “acting”. Kai destroyed a room and there was a giant whale in space.
K&M Versions. 9 men wearing a college tuitions amount of makeup on, dance, pass out flowers, and drink water, because we all know that’s how you escape your captors.
K&M Versions. Made bruises look sexy. Suho got a dance solo without ever having a verse solo. Kai and Yixing buddied up. Baekhyun ripped his piercings out. Chen got to say “Shawty” and they continued their mysterious story line that’s only barely understandable.
K&M Versions. Everyone’s confidence was on 10. Sehun got a dance solo and actually danced well. Baekhyun teased us with his hot bod. Suho proved he’s more dad now than mom. Kyungsoo let his inner demons out and Chanyeol killed us all with his smirk and shoulders.
Luke’s mile-long legs lay spread out on the floor as he leaned on the side of his desk and a slouched posture. Your favorite hard liquor laid in a bottle he had saved for your wedding sitting next to him. He was almost done with the Vodka bottle. He had the photo of you two kissing on your first anniversary when he took you to Rome in between his legs, tear drops scattered on the glass.
Luke wailed. He missed you. He missed the way your hand fit perfectly into his. That your smaller body fit just right in his arms. The three freckles that lined near the corner of your lower lip. Your laugh that made him feel like he was complete. He missed everything about you.
Luke picked up the alcohol, but just before he could remove the cap, he passed out.
“C’mon, Y/N! It was just a petty fight! Are you really breaking up with me because of it?” Luke whined to you who was walking down the steps of your shared penthouse and towards the front door. You ignored him and strode past him wanting to leave. This was the second time in the three years that you had broken up. The first time was hard enough.
“Y/N!” he yelled as you shut the door. Luke groaned, feeling his soul be incomplete. This new feeling, this empty feeling made him feel sick. He you back, but didn’t know how to tell you.
“Y-Y/N-y?” Luke stuttered into the phone, nervous, using one of your various nicknames.
“L-Luk-ke?” you stuttered through your tears. Luke felt his heart break that he was the one who made you cry.
“Darling, come home,” he whispered. You were his home, he felt no need to call the empty house his home anymore without you in it. “Love, come back,”
“Lukey, I wanna come home…” you trailed.
“Then why don’t you?”
“This relationship, our relationship, is only you coming back from work only for me to be asleep and you leaving only for me to wake up alone. I don’t want that…”
Luke jumped awake at the memory of the phone call. He wiped the tears from his aching eyes and grabbed frantically for his cell phone.
“Hi! This is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m sorry I couldn’t answer your call, I– Luke, stop it…” then your voicemail ended. You hadn’t changed it. And he loved you even more for it. He kept calling but he was always sent to voicemail.
“Goddammit!” he cursed, swiping his hand over his desk, forcing his laptop, lamp, pens, and business cards off the platform. He started seething, breathing so deeply that it was hard to inhale.
Luke strutted out of the office and stopped in front of Aubrey.
“Aubrey, I’m going to go out, I don’t know when I’m going to be back.”
“I’ll see you then, Mr. Hemmings.” she nodded.
Luke impatiently waited for the elevator to get to the parking garage and went to his car. He revved the engine and sped towards your new apartment, which he found via your best friend. He parked his Ferrari sloppily and dashed to your door. He knocked rapidly, eager to see your face, hear your voice, this time with sober senses.
You opened the door to see your ex-boyfriend’s red, puffy eyes. He quickly pulled you by your neck into a soft, loving kiss that made you weak in the knees. Your mind went into over-drive. All of his emotions poured into your kiss, anger; sadness; grief; depression; loneliness; love.
He pulled away and rested his forehead on yours.
“Please don’t leave me, you’re all I have. I love you so much.” he whispered to you with so much passion like you two were the only people on earth.
“”I love you too, Luke. So fucking much, ”
“Darling, come home,” he pleaded, “Come back,”
“Why not?” he said getting angry. He pulled back and glared at you.
“Because I don’t want to be alone anymore.” you whispered only loud enough for him to hear.
“I won’t leave you alone, ever. Not after the hell I’ve been through for six months that only your love can pull me out. That I promise.”
“I love you more than anything, my world.” You grinned and kissed him on the mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Marry me again,” He pulled out the ring from his pocket, getting down on one knee, proposing. “Y/N Y/L/N, I’ve loved you since the day I met you. I knew when you ran into me, spilling your lemonade on my white shirt, I knew I was going to marry you. And I know we haven’t had he best relationship, but you can’t ever doubt my undying love or you. The silence was driving me crazy. The echoes that weren’t actually there haunted me. The silent screams in my head made me angry. So angry because you weren’t there anymore. And then I realized that I did leave you alone. But I love you and only you. You’re my family, I mean, we dated for six years. Darling, you’ll always come before my job. I love you, and I wanted this relationship. I never wanted you to feel lonely, I never want you to feel neglected, and I never fucking wanted you to feel second-best… and if you leave me, then I don’t know what I’m going to do anymore. You’re my everything… “When you left, I could feel my heart shatter in his chest, the love of my life left me because I had taken her for granted. All I wanted to do was crawl up in a ball and die. I love you too much for my own good. When we had broken up the first time, I went into depression. And if I thought that first time was depressing, I didn’t think I would have been abele to survive that. I was something that was merely just being. I was broken. “This ring is the exact one I gave you on our fifth year anniversary, the first time I proposed. The day I promised to be with you forever. The day I promised to love you until I don’t exist. That I would never love anyone as much as I love you. The empty closet, the music-less house, the biting silence, the echoes of you that aren’t actually there, the silent laughs of happiness in my head that had pained me. When you left, this ring told me that this was really happening, this was my wake-up call. I just wanted to hold you in my arms and hear with sober ears that you love me… So will you marry me? Again?”
“Yes!” you squealed, leaping into his arms and kissing him deeply, reminiscing in the feeling of his lips on yours.
Ten Years Later…
“Benji!” you begged at your six year old who was running naked in the kitchen, “Please put your clothes on!”
“Mama! I’m Captain Underpants!” he giggled and ran right into his father who was entering the room. He scooped the small blonde boy into his arms and looked him in the similar azure eyes.
“Now, Ben, why are you not listening to your mother?” he scolded.
“Because I’m a big boy!”
“Benny, I still listen to her and I’m a man.”
“Okay…” Your husband placed Ben on the ground and he sulked off to go put on his clothes.
“Luke…” you sighed, placing your head on his broad chest. “I love you. Thank you so much for taking Ben to school today.”
“It’s fine and I love you too–” Luke was cut off by a wailing noise. “Ellie’s awake…”
“I’ll get her. Bye,” you leaned up and kissed him on the lips. Luke left the kitchen and took Ben to the car.
You wandered up the stairs and into the first room on the left, Ellie’s room.
“Elizabeth Hemmings, what on earth do you need now?” you teased your two year old daughter.
“My tummy hurts bad,” she pouted, Luke’s pout. Her hair was a strawberry blonde, but her eyes mimicked Luke’s as well.
“Aw, baby, you wanna get in bed with mommy?” The little girl nodded her head and stuck her arms out. You picked her up and placed her on you and Luke’s shared bed, pulling her into your embrace as you climbed in with her.
When Ellie fell asleep, you heard your phone buzz from the bedside table.
From lukey :))
At least the ghosts don’t haunt me anymore. Love you
AHHHHHHHHHH HERE it IS
YOU CAN ASK ME ANYTHING. ILL DO ANYTHING FOR YALL X