#Mara is so soft here because he LOOKS AT HER HE TOUCHES HER she's like Man I'm feeling like a Woman

[doeeyeseddie]

18 or 25 for the relationship prompts? 💗💗💗

hi and thank you for the prompt! sorry this took me so very long to write, but i hope you like it anyway 💕

18. brushing through the other's hair while talking/25. feeding each other their food

[read on ao3]

It’s a slow shift. Not from the beginning, they get called out plenty in the morning, but the afternoon is slow already and now it’s 9pm and they haven’t had a call since before dinner. 

All the chores are done, everything is clean and fully stocked and put away. 

Bobby is in his office with some paperwork, but he insisted that he doesn’t need any help before heading downstairs. 

No one was in the mood to play a game or anything, so they’re just sort of lounging around the loft, an action movie playing on TV that no one’s really paying attention to. Hen and Chim are on the armchairs, but they’re turned mostly away from the TV, their focus on each other and Buck, and the conversation the three of them are having.

Beside Buck, Eddie keeps sinking lower in his seat until his head eventually comes to rest on Buck’s shoulder. Buck shoots him a fond look and lifts the hand that’s currently on the backrest of the couch to scratch at Eddie’s scalp gently. 

Eddie makes a soft noise and rubs his cheek against Buck’s shoulder like a cat, which Buck takes as encouragement to keep going.

It’s fine – they agreed to keep this on the low for a bit (not really a secret, but they’re not telling anyone yet either. Well, except for Chris, because that would’ve felt like lying, and Bobby, because they didn’t want to risk anything by keeping secrets from the brass), but so far no one’s even looked at them twice. Buck has had his arm slung over the back of the couch and essentially around Eddie for ages now, and no one’s said a word.

They’ve always been close after all, and for the last three weeks, they’ve slowly been adding more little touches to the list of things they do, like a head on the other’s shoulder, or, like today, Buck’s hand in Eddie’s hair. 

It’s been kind of fun finding out what they can get away with before anyone figures them out. 

He keeps combing his fingers through Eddie’s hair absently while talking to Hen and Chimney, and it’s easy like this. 

With his last relationship, with Tommy, they made it public so quickly kind of accidentally, but it was fine, because there wasn’t that much at stake. Sure, it doubled as his coming out to a lot of people, but Buck’s glad that happened so organically and without him having time to overthink or worry.

With Eddie, the situation is completely different. There’s so much at stake for them, everything, that they felt safer keeping it between themselves for a few weeks, to see how they adjust to this change. The two of them – and Christopher.

But it’s been three weeks now, and things have been great, so it’s okay if they want to be a bit more open with it. And Buck wants.

Ever since he realized how he feels about Eddie, about seven minutes before he kissed him for the first time, he’s been wanting to shout his love for him from the rooftops. It hasn’t been easy keeping that in, and his hands to himself.

So it’s easy, letting himself be a little bit more affectionate with Eddie like this, up here in the loft of their fire station, with their friends.

The low hum Eddie lets out and the relaxed lines of his body pressing against Buck’s tell him that he feels the same way. And if anyone asks – that’s fine, they’re ready to share whenever it happens.

But Hen just keeps telling her story about the latest shenanigans Denny and Mara have gotten up to, pretending to be annoyed by them even though it’s obvious she loves that they’re getting along this well. Chimney chimes in with stories from his and Kevin’s childhood, and Buck occasionally shares something he did as a kid just to shock Hen.

“You’re not hanging out with my kids unsupervised,” she says after he finishes telling them about a prank he and some other boys played on a teacher, and gets up from her chair. “I’m making popcorn. You guys want some, too?”

“Yes, please,” Eddie says sleepily from Buck’s shoulder, raising his hand.

Buck smiles at him, endeared, and squeezes the back of his neck gently. Without looking up, he tells Hen, “I–I’ll take some too, thanks, Hen.”

“You know if it’s there, I’ll eat it,” Chimney says. His chair creaks when he stands up too. “I’ll help you.”

The two of them head to the kitchen, bickering quietly, and Buck takes the opportunity to turn his head, brushing his nose along Eddie’s forehead and pressing a kiss to his brow.

“Tired, sweetheart?”

“A little,” Eddie mumbles, turning further into Buck, his knee pressed to the side of Buck’s thigh. “And you’re comfortable.”

“I’m not complaining,” Buck says, and starts combing his fingers through Eddie’s hair at the back of his head again. “Just say the word and we can go to the bunkroom.”

“No, I want the popcorn now,” Eddie says, blinking his eyes open. “I’m awake.”

Buck laughs and kisses his temple. “If you say so.”

Hen and Chim return with the popcorn not much later, and their conversation has moved on to a movie Buck hasn’t seen, so he’s happy to just sit back, one hand always on Eddie, listen to their familiar voices, and snack on his popcorn.

“Gimme some of that,” Eddie says quietly, jerking his chin towards the popcorn in Buck’s hand.

“The bowl is right there,” Buck says, but he’s already extending his hand.

Eddie gives him a smile that makes butterflies erupt in his stomach and brushes his fingers along Buck’s hand while he grabs some of the popcorn. “Thanks.”

Buck rolls his eyes, but they both know it’s just for show.

The next time he reaches for the bowl, he pops some in his mouth and offers the rest to Eddie, holding it between two fingers.

Instead of taking it from him, Eddie leans forward and eats it straight from Buck’s fingers, lips wrapped around them for just a second that’s enough to make his entire body go hot, especially his face.

Hen and Chimney stop talking.

Eddie looks at Buck like everything is completely normal, then turns to Chimney and Hen to ask, “What?”

“What is up with you two tonight?” Chimney asks, exasperated. “You got something to tell us?”

Eddie shrugs, jostling Buck a little. His eyes practically sparkle, shining with mischief when he turns to Buck, and Buck loves him so much. “I don’t know, Buck, do we? Do you know what he’s talking about?”

“You’ve basically been,” Hen makes an impatient gesture that encompasses both of them on the couch, “fucking cuddling for an hour. And now you’re feeding each other popcorn? You’re always all over each other, but this is…different.”

“Well, I didn’t expect Eddie to eat it like that, either,” Buck says, and blushes even more when Eddie just winks at him.

“Chim, I never want us to be the kind of best friends they are,” Hen says, and Buck makes the mistake of meeting Eddie’s eye, both of them bursting into laughter.

“I sure hope you won’t, since you’re both married,” Eddie wheezes, and Buck descends into laughter again.

“What does that have to–” Chim pauses. “Hold on.”

“Oh, they’re getting there,” Buck says in a stage whisper, reaching out to wipe a tear from the corner of Eddie’s eye.

Eddie catches his hand on the way back and presses a kiss to his palm before tangling their fingers.

Both Hen and Chimney are gaping at them, and Hen calls out weakly, “Cap, are you seeing this?”

“Yep,” Bobby’s amused voice wafts over from the kitchen. Buck didn’t even hear him come back. “But they told me three weeks ago already.”

“What!” Hen yelps, and Chimney shakes his head like a wet dog, looking beyond confused.

“So are you saying– you’re really—” His eyes flick down to their hands, then back up to their faces, moving rapidly from Buck to Eddie and back.

“Together?” Eddie asks. “Yeah.”

“Since when!” Hen demands, and she somehow looks both appalled and delighted. “How did this happen? How did I miss this?”

“I guess you just didn’t know what to look for,” Buck says, turning his head to smile at Eddie. “I can relate to that.”

#buddie #911fic #buddie fic #911 fic #911 abc #pia writes #ask #kitteneddiediaz

[ratridingaskateboard]

Always See Your Face

Chapter 3

Previous chapter here

Summary: Eddie has come to a striking revelation

Tag list: @daisyridleyyyy @silky-luxe @bl00d-puppy @ttsbaby01 @kennedy-brooke @sadbitchfangirl @abzzz3 @josephquinnschesthair @aislinnclifton @sashaphantomhive @aestaethicvante @madaboutjoe @bonehead-playz @mystic-mara 

A/N: Sorry this took so long and its kinda short! I hope you like it :')

--

Eddie’s jaw dropped. Never in his life had he seen a girl throw a punch at a guy much less right in front of him. This girl had more balls than anyone in Hellfire did. 

"What the fuck, bitch!"

“What’s going on?”

An authority figure yelled from across the lunch room. Whether it was a teacher, faculty member, or parent, Eddie knew she was in for it with punching a football player. Eddie peeked up at her through his bangs and she didn’t look like she did earlier at the lunch table. She was frightened. He didn’t know someone like her could get scared even though he had only known her for a couple of minutes now. Hell, he didn’t even know her name. However, she didn’t seem like the damsel in distress type. Seeing her like this made his heart ache. He couldn’t stand to see her like that.

Eddie promptly took her hand and escorted her to the courtyard while the football player stumbled his way up and toward the teacher heading his way. Eddie would take the blame for her. He knew the teacher would be on the side of the senior who hadn’t repeated his last year of high school several times rather than Eddie, that was no question. If he were to blame her, they may yell at her for bending over the table and wearing a short skirt. It made Eddie sick how pieces of shit like that got away with being shitty. She didn’t deserve to be scrutinized by anyone after being harassed. 

He stumbled over his own feet while pacing to the park bench in the nearby woods next to the cafeteria, his prime drug dealing spot. He was in such a hurry to escape the madness of the lunch room that he didn’t even know how she felt to be swept away like this. What if she hated him for it? What if she wanted to explain herself to the teacher?

He reluctantly turned to face her. She looked up at him with bright eyes filled with surprise. She seemed so much smaller now that Eddie was standing. She had presented herself as Eddie did but it was all a facade. It was a way to frighten people off so they wouldn’t get too close. Of course, he loved each and every single band tee and patch he wore but he also enjoyed the amount of people who were nervous around him at school because of these bands. He knew he would never have to worry about getting his feelings hurt if he didn’t let anyone in.

Eddie gestured to the bench and she sat down.

“Thank you for that. I didn’t know what he was going to do to me after I hit him. Probably best I don’t find out.” 

“I won’t let him do anything to you, I promise.”

A smile crept onto her lips and a warm blush spread across her cheeks. Eddie choked. He just met this girl and he was in this deep? He couldn’t look at her without being an awkward dweb like his friends were. He shook his head, he had to think straight.

“Is your hand okay?” 

Her knuckles were a rosy red, and she clenched her fist as if in pain.

“His face was harder than I thought.”

Eddie moved down on his knees, the fall leaves caressing his jeans. He took her bruised hand in his and stroked his thumb over each knuckle. Her skin was so soft even though she had just punched someone. He wondered if the skin on her hands was as soft as other parts of her. Fuck! What was he doing?! He grabbed her hand without even asking. He looked up to seek a sign of approval from her.

Her face was like Garret’s when her chest touched his arm. She was beet red in the face and her body was as stiff as a board. So she was real. She wasn’t just an idea. She had blood rushing through her veins and she felt what he felt. Eddie’s heart began to race and fear started to creep into him.

She was everything. She was a walking, talking angel who could break his heart with the touch of her hand. Should he even take the chance? What if she hurts him? What if she hurts his friends?

Those eyes wouldn’t hurt a fly. He was fucked. He didn’t used to believe in love at first sight but he did now.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things

[desert-bluffs-and-me]

WTNV Quick Rundown - Live Show - The Debate

One day, I'll actually get to attend one of these things. Until then, you and I can go through it like this together~ This show featured the guest voices of Kevin R. Free, Mark Gagliardi, Mark Evan Jackson, Jackson Publick, Hal Lublin, Annie Savage, and Mara Wilson.

We found a little piece of heaven here. It is black, smooth, oblong. It hums a soft but discordant note, and we are afraid to touch it. Welcome to Night Vale.

The Debate mention is, of course, the mayoral debate between candidates Hiram McDaniels (a literal five-headed dragon, wanted by the law for tax evasion) and the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In All Of Our Homes (FOW).

As a surprise, we are also told that Marcus Vanston will be running for mayor. He's pretty much just a jerk this entire episode (lol) saying things like how he basically used to own a dragon as a slave and other rich boy stuff. Anyway he gets turned into an angel.

We are told that Pamela is 'not' being soul-bonded with someone and forced to step down.

In Night Vale, mayors are chosen by counting and interpreting the loud pulses coming out of Hidden Gorge, but Cecil says they're allowing citizens to hear what the candidates have to say anyway.

NV's recorded history apparently only goes back seven years.

Hiram's wishes to 'break ground' for those who do not identify as human. He says that having multiple heads makes him a better candidate because they are all good at different things. Green Head is good at maths, for example. He also reveals he has debilitating claustrophobia. Hiram also says that he'll be less invasive of people's privacy and less inclined to try and run their lives, as he doesn't understand humans so doesn't care to do so.

The FOW's (who has a name but will not share it) says she will be a good mayor because she has always been and always will be by the side of every citizens (she's also set fire to countless homes) and knows them intimately. She is quite passionate about children and learning and wants to sell off people's unused possessions in order to raise money to fund school programmes.

Weather: “Promise to the Moon” by Jason Webley

The FOW mentions citizens by the name of Mike Numminen, Claire Franklin (who hasn't yet told someone called Eva she loves her) and Felicia Jackson. There is also somebody called Roberta who works as sales staff at the station.

Cecil owns a whole set of collectible jadeite bowls he doesn't use. Hiram has a hoard of rare jewels and gold in a mahogany chest in his cave. Marcus has a coffee table made of human bones.

Angels, all called Erika with a K, call both to worry about the tiny city under Lane 5 and to call upon Marcus. They're not legally allowed to be recognised as existing, so the conversations as brief. They are afraid. They also say that angels do not hear gender.

Diane Crayton calls with questions about helping NV's schools, concerned about centipedes crawling out of teachers faces, clocks which don't work, gun violence and declining graduation rates.

John Peters (you know, the farmer?), calls about how the Glow Cloud has been disrupting his farming by dropping dead animals everywhere. However, the Glow Cloud (all hail) has too much of a psychic grip on the town for anyone to do anything.

"Hi, this is Steve Carlsberg? And, um, my question is for Hiram. Hiram, –" "NO!!! NO!!! STEVE CARLSBERG!?! WE ARE OUT OF TIME FOR QUESTIONS GOODBYE!!!" I am begging you to look up this up on youtube it's so funny.

There has been an alarming humming, attributing to a mass of deer with time-travelling abilities which have appeared in great numbers (often displacing people in time and space), but is in fact coming from a vortex not dissimilar to the one which opened during the Sandstorm.

Hiram investigates and brings Kevin of Desert Bluffs through with him, much to Cecil's shock and horror.

Kevin is finally told Cecil's name and the name of the town. He mentions again how he and Cecil are so similar, especially in the eyes and the smile. He states that the FOW actually has a face, with deep hazel eyes, proud lips and an archaic jaw. This deeply disturbs her as she has never had a face.

He states again that NV has old-fashioned technology and how 'places like this' are usually covered in blood and other such things, but hey guess they do things different in NV! He's very enthusiastic about NV and wishes his intern, Vanessa, could see as he'd always talked to her about visiting NV. He says she's funny and enthuses about her greatly, only to reveal that she died many years ago during an...incident...

'Oh, dear, I’m sorry, no. Vanessa died many years ago. We’re all still very upset about it. Very upset about what we saw. Some of us never came back to work again. Some of us never left our houses again. Most of us never woke up again. I don’t like to talk about it much.'

He says that Stexcorp is recalling the deer and will be carrying them away by helicopter, having planned to introduce them slowly to do people's math problems and earn them extra work hours by shifting them back through time, but they got carried away.

Kevin also says that anyone affected can contact Strexcorp attorney Luisa Reyes as she is filing a class action lawsuit against Strexcorp. He then says he has to go and that he thinks the towns are connected by more than a two-lane highway.

"You are beautiful when you do beautiful things." Another nice little popular quote.

Cecil is quite terrified of Kevin, describing him as having blood-stained skin, with missing eyes and teeth like an abandoned cemetery.

Stay tuned next for a chasm of subjectivity and bravado between yourself and every other human being. Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.

#wtnv #wtnv quick rundown #welcome to night vale #wtnv the debate

[jedimordsith]

A continuation from yesterday.

(From the same AU as here and here,  the chunk from Sunday, and the Wed bit.)

Leaning in, he kissed pressed his lips gently to hers. 

Mara’s response was immediate and more gratifying than anything else he’d ever experienced in his life. Dropping the bottle, she threw her arms around his neck and scrambled sideways, climbing into his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs. She was warm and the perfect combination of softness and muscle, and Luke wrapped his arms around her, his hands stroking up her back as he coaxed her mouth open with his tongue. 

She made a tiny whimpery noise and Luke moaned, a ridiculous sound that he’d have been mortified of if Mara’s shields hadn’t come down, all her desperate relief and hunger swamping him and threatening to completely pull him under. 

He’d meant to be gentle and patient but Mara had always frayed his control like no one else. His hands fumbled with her wide belt, yanking it off and tossing it aside so that he could burrow his hands beneath her loose tunic. Her skin was soft and warm and she arched into his touch, breaking the kiss on a gasp. Luke took the opportunity to nuzzle her throat, his hands finding her chest wrap and tugging it open so he could fill his palms with her. 

Heat seared through and between them and Luke broke off, pressing his forehead against her shoulder, trying to slow down. To make himself think.

Mara still had half a standard year before she’d be seventeen, and Luke knew the secret no one else did — that Master Che had warned her to be careful her first time. They’d been through her head at least twice a year since she’d been taken by the Emperor as a child, but they still found things sometimes; slow-developing traps that had been laid in the most insidious ways. There was a chance that taking someone to her bed could trigger something they didn’t yet know about. As much as Luke wanted to take her inside to the overly-large, plush bed he’d been assigned and do all the things he’d been dreaming of, it was a risk. If things went badly, there wouldn’t be anyone here to help. 

“I don’t care,” Mara gasped. Her hands cradled his cheeks and her eyes were luminous in the dark. “I don’t — it’s just us,” she said, her expression pleading. “When’s the next time we’ll get this?” She gestured to indicate the quiet, the time. “Please, Luke. I know what your mother thinks — about me not being old enough. But I’m ready. I’ve got my implant and I’m not from Naboo. I’m a void brat, you know that —”

Luke cut her off with a kiss, a streak of resentment blazing through him. Just because she’d been found abandoned in a dying ship with no records, no family, no home world or traditions — it didn’t mean she didn’t matter. That she wasn’t the most precious thing in his life. That she didn’t deserve to be treated with infinite care. 

And she had point. When were they going to get another chance like this? 

“Promise you’ll stop me,” he said seriously, pulling back to look at her. “If something’s… wrong.” 

“If something crawls out of my head and tries to kill us, you mean?” Mara grimaced. 

“Hey,” Luke said forcing a smile and stroking a thumb across her cheek. “I’ve got enough fantasies about things I want to do to you to last a lifetime. I can’t have you dying on me our first time through, you know?” 

That pulled amusement from her, and she softened. “Deal.” 

Closing his hands on her hips, Luke nudged her up and off of him. “Come on. My room’s on the left.” 

#Luke Skywalker #Mara Jade #luke/mara #Filthy Friday

[grislyintentions]

He didn't know why he did it. Why he forced his eyes to look up at the white ceiling of the room he was in. He felt that he was lying on something soft, probably a mattress. Around him lay bandages everywhere, and some kind of new medicine. It didn't look like his home, no... He wasn't in it. He couldn't go back to it. " I-- don't want to remember... " Blade whispered in a quiet, tired voice, touching more firmly the warm material covering half of his body. All in bandages, destroyed by those who had broken him. " Everything hurts so badly. Even now. " He forced himself to slowly rise to a sitting position. He looked with mara eyes into the eyes of the woman who had been by his side the whole time. Blade didn't know how long she was here - but he was glad it was her. His eyes began to tremble and his hands clenched tighter. " Why are you making me live? Why can't you just let me die! " He asked and reflexively hugged her. As if he needed this more than any words or feelings. The time-destroyed swordsman, the former craftsman of the admiration of the entire alliance died. Only his body was asking for help to feel nothing, at least for a while. To forget.

"Aw, Bladie." She does not reject him when he reaches for her. Kafka allowed herself to be pulled into his embrace, resting both her arms on the swordsman's shoulders as he presses his face against her chest, right above where her heart is situated, beating evenly. The Stellaron Hunter is patient with him, stroking his hair and tracing his features with her thumb whilst he rests against her in repetitive motions. "Poor dear. You must have undergone quite a lot of suffering in your life."

The raw anguish that bled out of him clearly communicates that. Blade clutches her like she was a lifeline; A man adrift at sea. And she is not as cruel to cast a drowning man out. "It's alright if you do not wish to remember, darling. I will remember enough for the both of us. You do not have to force yourself to recall what you have buried. You just need to remember three things." The Stellaron Hunter embraces him in return, pressing her cheek closer to Blade's ear when she spoke again. "One: Your name is Blade. Two: You know who I am and three:" Kafka gently frames his face with her hands. "You are alive because you have not yet lived. And when you go out finally, it will be on your own terms. Nobody else. Besides, what use is a good script without a director, right? So, direct." Lips gently brush against his forehead in a soft kiss.

"Until then, I'll keep you safe."

@kanxing

#kanxing

[elysiadjarin]

Day 3: Dacryphilia

Jesse Cromeans may be a ruthless killer, but at home with you? You’re the one in charge. And especially those days when you’re annoyed at how long he’s been gone and he comes back so desperate for your attention… well. You did so like to see him cry.

Day 3 of Kinktober has arrived! I actually think I discovered some things about myself writing this one, so y’all enjoy. 😂 Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ content only. This one is a slasher x reader fic, so please beware of mentions of murder and assault as part of the territory, though nothing is explicitly mentioned. PinV unprotected sex, dacryphilia, desperation, cumplay.

Tags: Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) x reader, slasher x reader, yandere!reader, soft femdom, sub/dom themes

Paint Splatters over Canvas

It was rather funny, really.

You scrolled through your phone, ignoring the giant man standing in the doorway of the room staring at you. Jesse had always made a point of never touching you without your permission. A way for him to separate the meaningless victims of his murderous hobby with you, his wife, his everything. And while of course your relationship stayed perfectly strong, you well aware of his hobby and he well aware of your own tendencies… it did sometimes backfire on him in the best worst ways.

Like now. When you were annoyed with him because he’d been gone an entire day later than he’d promised, extra dark web cash be damned. A promise was a promise, and it wasn’t as though he’d needed the money. He did have a perfectly legal and highly successful business, after all. So shouldn’t you have come first?

You liked revenge cold, playing the long game; something you had in common with Jesse. And today, you certainly had plans put in place for said revenge. Which, for the time being, meant ignoring Jesse. You had plenty to occupy you, from communications for the business to just working on your own projects. Still, you’d made sure to be just nonchalant enough to let him know that it was all so… deliberate.

Jesse shuffled in the doorway, clearly wanting your attention but knowing better than to think any sort of demanding would get him anywhere. He’d learned the hard way that at home, his power over subordinates decidedly did not apply to you. When you didn’t give him any response, he hovered for a moment, clearly trying to decide on what to do next.

You knew how he would get after a mission. Needy. Wanting. Starved for attention and affection from you. Pent up for days, probably thinking about you every spare moment between takes.

With a hum, you typed out a message on your phone before standing and heading for the doorway. You briefly looked up to see him as you brushed past in the doorway. “Oh, hi, Jesse,” you said, giving him a brief, distracted smile. “I’m off to get ready for a meeting with a client.” You headed for the bedroom, already thinking about your next steps.

You could hear him following behind you, could almost feel the mounting despair as he started to realized what was happening. Why you had used his name instead of the usual love, darling. His shoulders hunched, and you could see his face twist as he clearly tried to think of what to do. He already knew that you’d have your revenge however you wanted: apologies would be expected but certainly wouldn’t get him any closer to mercy.

Walking into the bedroom, you headed straight for the bathroom to start preparing. Jesse still trailed along behind you like a forlorn, helpless puppy, and you swore you could almost hear him let out a small whine. Pausing for a moment in front of your vanity, you dialed your friend’s number and set it to speaker, putting it down on the countertop and sitting in front of the mirror.

You tied your hair up and reached for your cosmetics, beginning the process as the phone dialed. Your friend picked up quickly, already in on your plan thanks to your texting. She always approved of your payback plans.

Bestie! I thought you said you had to prepare for the meeting? I mean, yknow, not that I don’t like hearing from you. She cheerfully teased over the phone.

You smiled. “Well yeah, I just sat down to do my makeup. But I mean, we did say we were going to talk about the party for little Jacen this weekend, and what better time than now? You can help me pick out an outfit once I’m done,” you cajoled, noticing how Jesse sat on the edge of the jacuzzi bathtub, unabashedly staring at you. He always had loved watching you get ready for an event. Not that you minded.

Fair enough. Your best friend admitted readily. But seriously, you didn’t have to go all out for Jacen like this. She half scolded. It’s so much!

You laughed lightly, the creamy foundation smoothing across your skin. “Oh c’mon, he’s my adorable little nephew in all but name. He deserves to get spoiled by his doting Aunt, let me have my fun,” you wheedled, knowing she would cave.

She sighed over the receiver. I swear, girl, you could convince anyone into anything.

“Or maybe I’m just your weakness, Miss Mara,” you teased back. The soft brush in your fingers blended the contour onto your face, and you smiled as you glanced at the phone. “But anyway, did you manage to figure out what he might want for a birthday present? Or are we going with my original idea to let him loose in a mall?”

Oh, no, you are so not buying him everything he points at. I’d never get him to not be a spoiled brat if I let you.Mara snorted. I’ll text you what I figured out, he seems to be pretty fixated on it right now.

“Ugh, fineeee,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “But I’m going to at least get him that adorable motorized scooter I showed you before. He’s going to look so cute riding around in it.”

Fair enough I suppose. Better than the mall idea— wait, did you just get me to agree to something extravagant by threatening something so ridiculous—

“Anyway,” you interrupted blithely, “did you send out invitations to everyone?”

Yep, and I got back all the RSVPs. Speaking of which, I thought you said that you were meeting with the CEO of some business tonight? What’s that all about? I know you, you normally don’t like dealing with people.

You sighed. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag a little.” You pouted, reaching for the eyeshadow and liner. “Jesse was supposed to be back yesterday, but since he wasn’t I had to reschedule, and I promised to personally meet with the CEO in order to smooth over ruffled feathers. But besides that… I wanted to be there personally to see my best friend and her husband’s house finally paid off for their fifth anniversary.”

A pause. Then a screech that made you grin. You’re not serious! Babes, no, wait—

“No use protesting!” You said cheerfully, waving your brush. “It’s already been practically settled. Besides, you both need to start saving up for Jacen’s college funds. We did have the agreement that I’d open the doors to whatever college he wanted instead of just paying for it,” you reminded.

Ugh, I don’t know if I want to smack you or hug you, you sly little— Mara groaned. Wait till I tell Damien, he won’t know what hit him. She laughed. Thank you. You know how much it means to us. I won’t scold.

“Good.” You nodded. “And you know I’ll take care of you.”

She sighed. Never doubted it. So, how’s the process?

You hummed, pursing your lips as you finished the eyeshadow and grabbed the mascara. “About to do mascara, then all I have left is the lipstick. But shouldn’t I wait till we pick a dress before I actually pick a color?”

Probably. What’s the mood? You going for boss ass bitch, sultry Queen, or mysterious vampire lady? Amusement laced Mara’s voice.

“You’re not even in my house and yet you walked in and called me out to my face,” you said dryly, earning laughter. Jesse, you saw in the mirror, tilted his head with a small smile playing over his lips. He’d quietly observed the whole processes, eyes fixed on your face.

Only cause I love you. So, show me the closet, girl! Oh, show me your makeup first tho so we got reference.

You picked up the phone as you finished, turning on the camera so she could see your makeup sans the lipstick. She whistled, eyebrows wriggling teasingly as she grinned.

Oh, so mysterious vampire queen it is. She smirked. Closet. Though I do have the feeling that we’re going to be choosing a gorgeous red lipstick.

“Yes ma’am,” you answered, standing and heading for your closet. You heard Jesse stand and follow behind you, and stifled a smile. Flipping the camera, you started to flip through the racks of dresses. “Does that mean we’re leaning towards a black dress?”

Hmm, probably. Actually, how about one of your sleek black ones? The one with like, barely any frills and only a tiny bit of lace at the top. Off the shoulder. If you’re gonna try to assert dominance, probably drawing attention to your mouth and hands is the best way to go.

You tilted your head at the hangers, then nodded. “You’re right. Especially if I go for the red lipstick. I could also honestly use a glass of wine during that meeting,” you sighed.

Mara snickered. Blood in a wine glass? How stereotypical of you, madame.

“You hush, drama queen,” you said dryly, finding the dress she’d described and pulling it out.

Ooh, that’s the one! And I know you have that one crimson shade of lipstick that I always say looks vampiric.

You went back to the vanity and set the phone down, pretending to not notice that it showed Jesse standing in the doorway, clearly staring at you. You slid your shirt off, careful not to smudge any makeup, then slipped out of your pants and reached for the dress. Smoothing it over your front to get rid of any wrinkles, you sat back down and tilted the camera back to yourself, reaching for the lipstick.

“This one, right?” You waved it in front of your face.

Yep! That dress is stunning, by the way. Oh, and what are you doing with your hair?

“Ugh, I don’t really wanna bother too much with it, so I figured I’d go with the… messy, loose waves.” You shrugged, applying the lipstick.

Mara snorted. I think you mean, ‘sorry I’m late I was doing things’ while ignoring Jesse staggering behind you clearly radiating ‘I’m things’ energy.

You half-choked, laughing despite yourself. “Mara-! Seriously!”

She rolled her eyes at you. I’m just saying it like it is. But you go girlie, you look bomb. She laughed. Blow them all away. Be the boss bitch you are. A noise in the background interrupted her. Oop, that’s my cue. I gotta go, text me though okay?

“Will do, tell Damien and Jacen hi for me.” You smiled and hung up, finishing fluffing your hair. Standing, you grabbed the phone and headed for the door. “The meeting is in five minutes,” you remarked to Jesse as you passed him in the doorway. “If you want to join.”

You saw him type on his phone, the text to speech translator sounding a moment later. May I be there with you?

You flashed him a warm smile, as though you weren’t at all deliberately enacting revenge. “Of course! I’d love to have you there. Let’s go.” With a little hum, you headed towards the stairs.

Your phone pinged with a message. Girl, I swear he was drooling. You’re so mean sometimes. Not that he didn’t deserve it.

You suppressed a laugh, replying with one hand as your other slid down the bannister to guide you down the staircase. You know it. Mission so far successful. Wish me luck, I’m about to go into this meeting.

You looked up as you got to the bottom of the stairs, seeing an assistant waiting with the guest. The assistant bowed politely. “May I introduce Mr. Trace, CEO of Finley Bank.”

Giving the assistant a nod, you turned to Mr. Trace. “Greetings, Mr. Trace. Welcome! Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I do apologize for the delay,” you said, taking charge and sweeping towards the parlor.

He followed after automatically. “Of course, Mrs. Cromeans,” he answered, quickly recovering from his moment of bewilderment.

You motioned to a chair, sitting on the velvet couch across the coffee table. “Please, please, have a seat,” you said, keeping the easy smile on your face. “Can I get you a drink? Anything at all?”

He blinked, sitting down and setting his briefcase next to him. “Ah— thank you. I’d appreciate a scotch on the rocks if it’s available.”

“Of course,” you said easily, nodding to the maid standing nearby. “A red wine for me, please.” You smiled at Jesse as he sat next to you. “Your regular?” you asked sweetly. At his nod, you turned back to the maid. “And a glass of dry white.”

She bowed and went to go fetch the drinks.

“I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do, Mr. Trace,” you said smoothly, “so I’ll not take any more of your time than necessary. Of course, as I said, I’d like to discuss several things with you…”

Twenty minutes later found you leaning against the arm of the couch, feet propped up beside you as you swirled the last dregs of the red wine, tapping the glass with your fingernails. The CEO had long since emptied his scotch, and Jesse was on his second glass. His fingers kept clenching around the flute of his glass every time your feet brushed against his thigh.

“Of course,” Trace said with a nod, jotting down the final notes on the paperwork. “Easily managed. Are there any other details you would like to add or anything else to discuss?” He looked up at you.

Your tactics of firm politeness and the scotch seemed to have worked their charm, and you’d been able to rather easily dominate the flow of the interaction. Not to mention, Mara had been right about appearances clearly setting a tone. Trace seemed to be studiously avoiding eye contact with either you or Jesse.

“Not at all, Mr. Trace,” you said, a pleased note in your voice. “I’m rather pleased at how everything has turned out. We do so value your business, you know.” You tilted the glass in your fingers. “Shall I sign the papers?”

“At your leisure.” He slid them across the table toward you.

You slowly uncurled yourself like a lazy feline, straightening yourself and leaning over to set the glass down on the table. Grasping the pen, you slowly signed your name on the papers, eyes glancing over the print to ascertain that everything was in order. Shuffling through the papers, you finally set the pen down.

Trace took them back, glancing through them before nodding. “Everything seems to be in order.” He slid them back into his briefcase. “Thank you as always for your business, Mrs. Cromeans, Mr. Cromeans.”

You nodded, and Jesse stood, setting his glass down. You rose as well, sliding your arm into the crook of his elbow as he automatically adjusted for you. “And thank you for your help, Mr. Trace,” you answered easily. “I do hope you have a productive rest of the day. Do be safe out there.”

He nodded as the assistant returned to escort him out. “Same to you.”

With a hum, you absently patted Jesse’s arm and let yours slide out of his grasp, drifting towards the stairs again. “Oh, I need to go tell Mara it’s all confirmed. Besides, this dress is only comfortable for so long,” you remarked, pulling out your phone again.

Guess who completely owns their house now? You texted Mara, smiling. And your tactics worked, I think dominance was asserted.

You waltzed into the bedroom, headed straight for the closet. “Jesse, are you hungry? I think the food I ordered should have arrived by now, it should be in front of the TV. Maybe pick a movie? I still have a few messages to send.”

You changed into a comfortable black babydoll nightdress, sighing in relief as the silk slid over your skin. It was far more comfortable, and you could feel yourself finally starting to relax after the pent-up tension of the meeting. You really did hate dealing with people, especially ones like the CEO.

Your phone buzzed as you went to go pick it back up. You are literally the best. Now go finish seducing Jesse while I go figure out how to make this news sexy.

Stifling a snort, you went to go wipe your makeup off and wash your face. You could hear the sounds of the TV starting in the bedroom, so you took one more glance in the mirror before heading out into the room, still tapping at your phone. You still had to finish some arrangements for Jacen’s birthday, after all, and your revenge was still percolating.

Jesse’s head turned as soon as you approached the couch in front of the TV. You ignored the way he froze, sliding onto the couch and tucking your feet under a soft blanket. Sending off another message, you set it beside you and reached forward to grab a tray, pulling it into your lap.

“I figured you might not want anything too heavy since you just got back, so I kinda just made a guess and ended up ordering too much…” You frowned at the myriad of food laid out over the table. “Sorry, Jesse… I don’t even know if this is what you want—“

The text to speech cut you off. The food is fine, thank you. I’m sorry for being late. I know I can only make excuses, but I am sorry. Can I make it up to you?

A frown touched your lips as you picked up your spoon, still not looking at him. Your fingernails tapped against the screen of your phone. “Jacen asked the other day if Uncle Jesse would be at his party. I told him I didn’t know, but I’d ask.”

He quickly typed. Of course, if he asked for me, I’ll be sure to be there. His fingers paused, then he slowly typed again, as though hesitating. I got you a present while I was gone.

You hummed, swallowing your food and picking your phone back up. “He’ll be happy to hear it. And thank you for the present.” You sent a message to tell Mara that Jacen’s wish had been granted.

Jesse practically fidgeted as he ate, the movie playing in the background. You could feel his eyes slide from the screen to you, could almost hear the wheels in his head frantically turning. The tension in every line of his body was obvious, his movements stilted and jerky. He practically twitched every time you so much as moved.

Finally, you set down the tray, grabbing a mint to refresh your mouth. Shifting to get more comfortable, you angled yourself towards him a little more. You snitched a piece of food from his plate, letting out a hum as you smiled down at Mara’s message. If possible, Jesse stiffened even more, his fingers clenching so hard around his spoon that it even bent a little in his grasp.

A crumb fell from your fingers onto the lace edge of your nightgown, and you let out a quiet noise of protest as you looked down. Your fingers brushed against the top of your breast, brushing off the crumb. Sticking your finger in your mouth, you typed out a message in response to another conversation. With a sigh, you looked up and glanced over Jesse’s shoulder to see the lamp on the table next to him. Night had fallen, and shadows fell over the room.

Stirring yourself, you sat up, setting your phone down for a moment. “Can I turn on the lamp? I don’t wanna get up for the lights,” you said, starting to lean across him. Almost thoughtlessly, you placed your hand on his thigh and put your weight on it, reaching over his body on your hands and knees to pull at the cord on the lamp. The light clicked on, just as a low keening sound came from Jesse.

Your head tilted at the sound, and you turned to look up at his face. It was your turn to freeze.

Jesse’s face had crumpled, his soft green eyes literally awash with tears. His hands were clenched at his sides, his chest heaving with hitching breaths as he struggled to control his expression. The tears welled in his eyes, and faint color had splashed across his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

Slowly, a smile crossed your lips as you stared up at his face. Leaning back, you tilted your head, licking your lips. “Oh, look at you,” you breathed. “You made all the little piggies cry, Jesse. But maybe it’s your turn, hmm?” Your eyes flickered down to the way his entire body trembled, every muscle taut and strained.

You moved, sliding your entire body into his lap to straddle his waist and face him. Crossing your arms under your chest, you stared into his face. “I don’t know… you broke your promise, though.” Your eyebrow raised at him, and he let out another hoarse whimper. Tears slid down his cheeks, his mouth opening for shuddering breaths.

He shook his head, lips trembling as he lifted one hand and signed. Sorry. Please. Sorry. His fingers spelled out your name.

Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hands. You leaned up, face drawing closer to his. “But I already accepted your apology, love,” you cooed, smiling. “You know what I think?” You slowly dragged your tongue across his tear tracks, your body flushing with heat at the taste of the bitter salt. “I think,” you murmured against his jaw, “that I like seeing you cry.”

Jesse’s breath hitched on a sob, more tears spilling down his cheeks. It was fairly intoxicating, seeing the giant man completely fall apart under you, trapped between his desperation and his personal standards. When you slid forward, your body pressing flush against him, another sob wrenched from his gritted teeth.

You decided for the moment to have a bit of mercy. Reaching down, you grasped his wrists and lifted his hands to your waist. His fingers instantly clenched in the silk babydoll dress, shaking as he grabbed at your waist. His entire body lurched forwards towards you, eyes fixed on your face.

You hummed softly, brushing a kiss to his jaw. “Your eyes are so pretty when they’re filled with tears, Jesse,” you purred, drawing his face closer to you. Still, you refused to kiss him, instead trailing your lips down his jaw, down to his throat. You opened your mouth against his neck, savoring the taste of his skin and the soft scent of his cologne.

Jesse’s trembling fingers jerked against your waist, and he slumped into you. His hands slid over your waist to your lower back, his touch practically reverent as he squeezed. His breaths came quick and fast, breaking occasionally on a sob. Every time you suckled or moved your lips, every time your hands slid down his shoulders, he gasped and shuddered, more tears dripping down his cheeks.

You slid your hands down, starting to unbutton his shirt. Your tongue dragged across his neck, and you felt the bulge in his pants throb against your thigh. “Isn’t this punishment fair, darling?” you cooed. “I only ask for a few tears, hmm? A front row seat to your pretty eyes?”

His head jerked, even though it wrenched another tortured sob from him. Despite the contact, you could feel his frustration mounting.

You pulled back, looking up at him as you finished unbuttoning his shirt. “Oh, you don’t think so?” Your fingers slid across his bared chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. “But isn’t this what you wanted? Me, paying attention to you?”

His gasps had turned ragged. His hips jerked, rutting up against your thigh. A strangled noise left his throat, his eyes squeezing shut. His grip on your waist threatened to leave fingerprints against your skin.

“No?” You bit your lip, raking your nails lightly against his chest. “Then what is it you want, hmm?”

His eyes flickered down to your lips, unconsciously licking his own. His fingers clenching, he pulled you down to grind against his cock, straining in his trousers. Pants fell from his mouth, and he kept glancing from your eyes to your lips.

You reached down, teasingly trailing your fingers down his chest and stomach. Unzipping his trousers, you looked up at his face and smiled as you traced one fingertip down the bulge in his underwear. His eyes fairly rolled back in his head, more tears streaming down his face afresh.

“Look at you, already such a mess,” you murmured, sliding your fingers into his underwear. The moment you wrapped a hand around his cock and slid up, you were rewarded with a guttural groan. He gritted his teeth, clearly struggling to stay still. With a soft laugh, you leaned up and brushed a kiss to his ear.

You tugged at his collar. “Why don’t you lie down for me?” you murmured.

He immediately complied, his hands still clamped around your waist as he turned and shifted up, lying down on the couch. He stared up at you, face still twisted in agony and desperation.

Lifting yourself a little, you tilted your head at him. “Take your pants off for me?”

He practically kicked his pants and underwear off in his haste. You guided one of his hands to the latch on the side of your own panties, giving him an amused smile and nod. His trembling fingers unlatched them, his chest heaving as he watched the black silk slide away from your skin. The moment you lowered back down onto him, his cock throbbed against you and his back arched.

Leaning forward, you hummed a pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Jesse, love,” you murmured. “Cry for me a little more?” You cupped his face in your hands, feeling your wetness coat his own length as you ground against his tip. But you deliberately kept shifting, not giving him any steady pressure.

Another broken whine came from him, and a few more tears slipped down his cheeks. Frustration scrunched his face, his neck mottled with red and flushing down to his shoulders and chest, making your white nail marks stand out. His hips jerked, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment.

“Is this what you want?” You pressed down against him again, feeling his cock slip against your wet folds teasingly.

His head jerked in a nod, almost violently. Tremors kept running through his arms, his body occasionally shuddering under you.

You leaned down and sucked his lower lip between yours. Your teeth nipped at his lip, and you finally slanted your mouth over his. Tears poured afresh down his cheeks as he desperately pulled at you, trying to get closer, kiss you more. You relented and let him, thumbs brushing against his jaw as you hummed softly into his frantic, pleading kisses. Without warning, you slipped your tongue between his lips, feeling his mouth part with alacrity. When you finally parted, his green eyes were glazed over with tears, hazily staring at you.

Then you smiled at him slyly. “I think you’ve deserved a little bit more,” you decided.

The moment you slid his tip into you, he choked. Saliva dribbled from the corners of his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut, struggling for breath. His entire body froze, humming taut under you and his eyes sightlessly staring up at the ceiling.

You observed his wrecked expression, licking your lips with satisfaction. Rarely did Jesse ever fully submit to you like this, usually a brat. But tonight, you had absolute and utter control, and you intended to milk every last ounce of satisfaction out of it. The memories would fuel you for years of his utterly ruined expression, tears slipping down his cheeks as he drooled uncontrollably.

“So pretty, darling,” you purred, licking the tears from his cheek. You gave him another kiss, letting his hands wander over your waist and up your front. “So good for me. Do you think you can handle more?”

His eyes widened, breath quickening. He glanced down, then shook his head jerkily. Then nodded. Then shook his head.

You tilted your head. “Hmmm.” A wicked grin crossed your lips. “No? Oh, but I think you can,” your said, just as you lifted yourself and fully sheathed him inside you.

Jesse sobbed. His mouth opened, tongue lolling as he gasped. Tears poured down his cheeks from the mingled pleasurable pain and relief. His cock throbbed inside you, and his hands grasped desperately at your thighs. His entire body started to shake, arching.

You barely gave him time to adjust before you were already bouncing on him, hands braced against the back of the couch. Laughter spilled from your lips, delighted and cruel, as his hands scrabbled against your thighs, raking across your skin. Moans kept being torn from his throat, your name framed on his lips.

As soon as you angled your hips and brought your fingers down to ring tight circles on your clit, you hissed in pleasure. You pulsed around his cock, earning another helpless sob and wave of tears. He just hit that one spot inside you perfectly, again and again, until you bit your lip and moaned his name as you came around him. Your body clenched down on him, even as you kept fucking yourself through your orgasm.

More laughter spilled from your lips. “Are you gonna cum for me, Jesse, my pretty darling?” you asked breathlessly, purposely moaning his name. “Gonna cum inside me?”

The only warning you got from Jesse was another sob and the gritting of his teeth. His hands flew to your hips, slamming you down on him one more time before holding you there with an iron grip. Gasps tore from his mouth, his eyes trying to blink away tears as he stared up at you.

You hummed, caressing his hands and arms as you bit your lip in satisfaction. He kept pouring into you, his hips jerking once in a while and wringing a whimper from him. Finally, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. His lips parted under yours weakly, chest heaving under your hands.

“Thank you, Jesse,” you cooed sweetly between kisses. “You’re so good to me, make me feel so good.” Your mind fuzzed with the pleasure of both your high and the sight of his tears.

He pushed up against you, kissing you fervently. Though he didn’t say a word, you could feel his thoughts through his drugged, sloppy kiss.

You giggled, teasingly clenching down on him one more time and earning a jerk and grunt. “And I forgive you. But don’t do it again, okay?”

Jesse’s calculating look as he clearly weighed the consequences made you roll your eyes but laugh. Maybe this one would turn out to backfire against you, next time.

You decided it was worth it.

#elysiadjarinkinktober #elysiadjarin #mywriting #my writing #kinktober #smut #nsft #x reader #slashers #slasher x reader #chromeskull #jesse x reader #chromeskull x reader #Yandere reader #yandere #jesse Cromeans x reader #x you #slasher #My fic #fanfic

[sfb123]

Simping softness prompts: “ holy crap, I thought you were dead! Never do that to me again!”

Liam & Riley

Thanks for the ask! When I first looked over the list, this particular prompt caught my eye, and I thought to myself ‘I know someone is going to send me this one, what the hell am I going to do?’ And of course it was the first/only one I got! 

Once I figured out how to make a story out of it, the rest came easy!

(Prompt pulled from this list. Feel free to send me more!)

Word Count: 957

Warnings: Adult language, innuendo, otherwise it’s pretty tame. 

A/N: This story takes place pre Sapere Aude. 

A/N 2: Thank you @phoenixrising308 thank you for pre-reading, and naming this! I don’t know what I would do without you. 

Tags: Listed below, if you want to be added or removed just hit me up!

All characters belong to Pixelberry

***

Riley groaned as her arm reached to her bedside table, blindly slapping her hand around looking for her ringing phone. Whoever this is, is going to be tried for treason as soon as I’m awake enough to sign the paperwork. “This better be good.” She groggily greeted the caller. 

“Brooks?”

The somber tone in Drake’s voice woke Riley up immediately. “Drake? What’s the matter?” She looked at the bed next to her to find it empty. Liam hadn’t come home from his guys' night yet. 

“I...can you come over to my place?”

She was already out of bed, rushing to the closet to get dressed. “What’s wrong? Is Liam ok?” 

“Just co --”

The call dropped, Riley pulled the phone from her ear and noticed that the screen was blank. “Ugh...fucking shit wireless charger. You’ve got to be kidding me.” She dropped the phone, finished getting changed and ran to the front door. “Mara, we have to go. Now.” She ordered as she shuffled down the hall, trying to put her shoes on as she walked. 

“Your majesty?” Mara questioned as she followed behind the queen. 

“Drake called, something’s wrong. He said I need to go to his cabin. My phone died before I could get any more information.” She stopped when she reached the bottom of the grand staircase and turned to Mara. “See if you can get a hold of Drake.”

“Of course, your majesty. Should I call in for backup?”

“No, that’s not necessary, can we just go now please?”

“Yes ma’am. Wait here, and I will bring the car around.”

Drake didn’t live far from the palace, but the car ride seemed to take forever. Riley watched out the window, willing the scenery to move faster, as she tapped the pads of each of her fingers against her thumbs repeatedly. Mara hadn’t been able to get a hold of Drake, she also made a few unsuccessful attempts to reach Liam’s phone. 

Once the cabin was in view, Riley had her seatbelt unhooked and her hand on the door handle. As soon as the car slowed enough, she hopped out and ran to the cabin. She rushed through the door and looked around. “Where is he?”

“My queen is here!” Her head snapped in the direction of the slurred statement to find Liam trying to stand from his spot on the couch, smiling widely, arms outstretched, eyes half closed. He was drunk. 

She walked up to him and slapped him on the shoulder, causing him to fall backward onto the couch and burst into a fit of laughter. “Holy crap, I thought you were dead!” She turned to Drake pointing an angry finger in his face. “Never do that to me again!”

“Hey, I tried to explain to you that he was shit faced. It’s not my fault you don’t know how to charge your phone.” Drake held his hands up defensively. 

Before Riley could retort, she felt her arm being tugged. She turned to face Liam, who had managed to get himself upright, and was trying to pull her closer. “Love, I missed you, come sit with me.”

 She chuckled and sat next to him on the couch. “Hey baby, how are you feeling?”

“Much better now that you are here. But you’re too far away, sit closer.” She slid closer to him, their thighs touching. “No, closer.” She arched an eyebrow at him, and he patted his lap in response. She shook her head and repositioned herself so that she was sitting on Liam’s lap. 

“Is this better?”

“No, but I suppose it will have to do since Drake is sitting right there.” He tilted his head in his friend’s direction on the other end of the couch. 

Riley turned her attention back to Drake. “How did this even happen? He’s totally blasted, and you’re just fine?”

Drake shrugged. “Your husband sucks at drinking games.”

“Do you want to go home now, Liam?” She placed her hands on either side of his face and brushed a kiss against his forehead. 

He smiled and nodded. “Did you bring the car with the privacy partition so that we could…” He attempted to wink subtly, but in his state all he was able to do was blink both eyes. 

She couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped her, she clapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound slightly. “No baby, Mara just grabbed the first car she could. We wanted to get here as fast as possible.”

“Aww, because you missed me so much like I missed you so much?”

“Yes, that’s exactly why. Come on, you going to be ok to walk to the car?” Riley stood, extending a hand out to Liam. 

“If I say no, will you carry me?” He slapped his hand against hers before linking their fingers together. 

“Nice try, your majesty. Come on, be a big boy and walk by yourself.” She helped him walk a few steps before looking over her shoulder to Drake. “Thanks for calling me, maybe next time try cutting him off before he’s in this deep?”

“Just wait until I get you alone, then I’ll show you how deep I can get.” Liam slurred as he ambled toward the front door.

“Jesus Liam!” She slapped his arm. 

He stopped and turned so they were face to face. “Yes love, that is what you will be screaming when I show you.” He kissed her on the nose and continued walking. 

Riley turned her head to glare at Drake who was cackling at the interaction from the couch. “Have fun with all of that, Brooks.” He saluted her as she lifted her free hand and flipped him off before exiting his cabin. 

Permatag:

@anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @bbrandy2002 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @emersynwrites @emkay512 @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @nestledonthaveone @phoenixrising308 @pixie88 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @shewillreadyou @sincerelyella @sweatyrysconnoisseur @tessa-liam @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam x Riley:

@jared2612 @neotericthemis

Liam:

@amandablink @ao719 @yourmajesty09

One Shots:

@bebepac @darley1101

#choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir #choices the royal finale #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #trr #trh #trf #play choices #choices stories you play #liam x riley #liam x mc #trr fandom #trr fanfic #trh fandom

[nashibirne]

Desperado - 1

So here is my next try on an August fic. I gave you a glimpse of it in the little teaser the other day and some of you showed interest in reading more, so here is chapter 1 and I hope you're going to like it! If so, please let me know and leave a comment, reblog or like <3 Your feedback is very much appreciated!

Part 2

Pairing: Augut Walker x OFC (Helen Nichols)

Summary: August has survived the fight with Ethan Hunt and the fall from the cliff. A few lucky coincidences saved his life. Some trees and bushes cushioned the fall and he found himself on a hidden platform/cliff out of Hunt's sight. He managed to climb down the mountain and is alive but he's severly wounded and ends up with a woman that saves him and gives him shelter in her little hermit hut. He is at a turning point in his life. What is he going to do?

Word count: ~ 2.3k

Warnings: Severe injuries, description of wounds, blood, medical treatment

NO BETA! English is not my mother tongue, so expect bad grammar and wrong spelling. All mistakes are mine...

Credits: I don't own August Walker and anything related to MI:Fallout. Pics for the moodboard from pinterest, face claim Helen: Rooney Mara

You can find my other fics on my masterlist.

Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @fadingkittenfun @liliumdream

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Desperado

Why don't you come to your senses?

You've been out ridin' fences for so long now

Oh, you're a hard one

I know that you got your reasons

These things that are pleasin' you

Will hurt you somehow

From Desperado by The Eagles, Lyrics: Don Henley, Glenn Frey

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She looked at the man who was sleeping in her bed with a frown. Still processing the things that had happened on this day that was supposed to be a perfectly normal Tuesday, she racked her brain with all the questions she had no answer to.

What did he do in Kashmir? He was American, that much was obvious but he didn't look like a tourist.

What had happened to him? All these wounds and sprains and bruises and his face...

And the most important question, who was he?

He had no wallet, she had looked through his pockets and there was nothing, no ID, no driver's license, nothing that gave away his identity, just a small knife, quite similar to the survival knife she owned.

A soft groan escaped his mouth and made her snap out of her thoughts. He was asleep but whenever he moved he groaned in pain, which wasn't very surprising regarding his condition.

His moans had been the reason she'd discovered him in the first place a few hours ago. She was in the woods not too far from her home picking berries and looking for mushrooms for dinner when she heard him. The noises he made scared the shit out of her because she thought it might be a bear. Waving her knife around wildly she took a few steps backwards and literally stumbled over him.

He was lying flat on his back, covered in leaves, dirt, mud and blood. After the first initial shock she kneeled down beside him, touching his shoulder carefully. He let out a hoarse growl that made her flinch.

"Hey...hey, are you okay?"

Looking back this was the dumbest question ever because it was obvious that he was absolutely not okay but at least it provoked a reaction. He let out an annoyed snort that turned into a nasty cough.

"I…" Trying to sit up he turned to her and she gasped. A big part of the right side of his face -his ear, the cheek and the temple- was severely burnt, by acid maybe or hot steam, one eye completely swollen shut.

"I...have to get up." He said through clenched teeth, his voice strained. She was surprised that he was able to speak at all, it wasn't hard to imagine that he suffered from excruciating pain.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Ignoring her objection he got on his knees with a grunt and tried to stand up. "Fuck…" He let out a cry of pain and sank back on his knees before unsuccessfully trying again.

"Okay, okay...I get it, you want to get up but take it slow and let me help you, my house isn't far away…alright?" He gave her a nod and a look that wordlessly expressed how much it pissed him off that he was in need of her help. She took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder which made him yelp, apparently his ankle wasn't the only joint that was sprained.

It was a miracle that she managed to drag him up on his feet. He was tall and broad, a big man, buff and heavy and she wasn't exactly a strong woman. Tough and fit but not really physically strong. She was at least one and a half heads shorter than him and pretty lean but together they somehow managed to get him into her hut and onto her bed.

She felt completely overwhelmed by the situation that triggered some very unpleasant memories but the stranger was surprisingly cool, calm and collected. "Do you have some painkillers?" He let his body sink back, resting his head on her pillow with a long, deep sigh. "Of course." She searched her medicine cupboard for the pills frantically. "And burn ointment? And bring some dressing material for my bruises and my ankle. And antiseptics." His voice got weaker by the minute but his words still sounded like commands. "Sure. Got it."

Only a minute later she stood beside the bed holding the meds and the bandages in her arms, absolutely clueless what to do next but he guided her through the things that had to be done step by step. He even made her reset his dislocated shoulder and it seemed it was harder for her than for him. She had the strong feeling that in contrast to her it wasn't his first time. When his wounds were finally cleansed and dressed, his ankle wrapped up in a bandage and the painkillers began to kick in he soon fell asleep and she found the time to take a deep breath and to realize what was going on.

And there she was, sitting at her kitchen table, watching the stranger who was sleeping in her bed. She didn't really know why but she wasn't going to call for help, it was just a gut feeling but she considered it wise to keep this to herself. Please don't die. The thought kept running through her head because she really wouldn't know what to do with a corpse in her little hermitage. Luckily he seemed pretty convinced he was going to survive this and he obviously knew what he was doing when he told her how to take care of his maltreated body. Maybe he was a doctor or paramedic or something and hopefully he had a good explanation for lying in the woods in the middle of nowhere, more dead than alive. An American man in Kashmir, dressed in stuff that looked much more like combat clothing than a mountaineer outfit.

She let out a soft sigh and got up to clean up the mess they'd left. Blood on the floor, dirt, mud, the remains of the bandage packages, dirty towels and his clothes that we're lying at the foot of the bed.

When she carefully approached him to pick up his stuff, not wanting to wake him up, she realized he was shivering with cold, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. He had made her undress him to cleanse his wounds, so he was only wearing his briefs and an undershirt, but she had covered him with her blanket that was made of extra heavy fabric and the fire in the fireplace was giving extra warmth, so the fact that he was still freezing showed her that he was feverish. Gently laying her hand on his forehead she noticed that his skin was burning.

She decided to wrap his calves in cold leg compresses to send down his temperature and went to the sink where she put two thin cotton towels in cold water before squeezing them out. When the cool fabric touched his bare skin he woke up with a gasp. He raised his head and looked at her with irritation.

"I'm just trying to lower your fever." She explained with a smile that was supposed to be soothing but instead he frowned and gave her a suspicious glance.

"It's cold." he said, his voice hoarse and dark.

"It has to be cold but I'm gonna add a layer of dry towels. It will make you feel better." He took a deep breath and lowered his head with a groan.

"I need more painkillers."

"But you already had…"

"I need more." His voice was tight with pain but it still was easy to tell that he wasn't willing to tolerate contradictions.

"Fine. Suit yourself." His attitude was starting to piss her off. She wasn't used to having someone in her house and she absolutely couldn't stand it when someone tried to boss her around. She gave him the pills and a glass of water and he took another dose. He fell asleep again soon and she was glad he was snoring softly because it indicated that he was still breathing. She made herself a makeshift bed on her couch and after having some trouble getting off to sleep she finally drifted off into a shallow, dreamless slumber.

****

When August Walker woke up the next morning from uneasy dreams, bright rays of sunshine fell on his bed through the window above his head, tickling the naked skin of his shoulders. He moved his head and a jolt of sharp pain ran through his skull. He moaned and forced himself to open his eyes, shielding them against the blinding light with one hand.

He managed to take a look around and had a hard time remembering where he was and what had happened. Slowly the memory came back and he knew he was more than lucky to be alive and almost in one piece lying in a warm bed. The bed of a strange woman. He shifted his position, stifling a groan and sat up as straight as possible, resting his back against the headboard. There she was, curled up in a huge, colourful quilt, sleeping on her couch. It didn't look too comfortable but she was small so she should be alright. She apparently lived alone in this hut. Actually, from what he was able to see, it was a little more than a simple hut, it was a cosy, modern woodhouse, not very big but with all amenities. This wasn't the house of a poor woman that was forced to live in the woods, this was self-chosen isolation, a comfortable hermitage.

But why did a young American woman choose to live in the wilds at the western edge of the Dachigam National Park in Kashmir? She was in her early thirties he guessed, maybe five years younger than him and pretty tough. She had done well yesterday, patching him up and dealing with the way he looked, with his face that got burnt by the hot liquid that had leaked from the hose in the fucking helicopter after this horrible crash. Must be pretty awful, he thought, touching the bandages that covered half of his head carefully. He closed his eyes and almost dozed off again when he heard a rustling sound coming from the sofa. He watched through half-opened lids how the woman got up from her place to sleep, stretching her body with a yawn. She turned to him and came closer. "Good morning."

"Morning." His voice was raspy and hoarse.

"How are you feeling?" She cocked her head, giving him a sympathetic smile but all she got in return was an incomprehensible grunt. She sat down on the edge of his bed and tried to touch his cheek to check his temperature but he turned his head away and she pulled back her hand.

"My name is Helen. Helen Nichols." she said softly, her tone soothing as if she was talking to a wounded animal.

He looked at her and gave her a little nod. "Hi Helen."

"And you are?"

He cleared his throat to buy a little time and to make up some lies that would satisfy her curiosity.

"The name's Au...Austin." Fuck He had almost revealed his real name. August realized that his brain wasn't even close to working as well as usual.

She grinned. "Like Austin Powers?"

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"Austin Powers. The Spy Who Shagged Me."

"Excuse me?" His expression was something between flabbergasted and annoyed.

"The movie..with Mike Meyers...nevermind."

"It's Austin Peters ."

"Okay. Nice to meet you Austin Peters."

She gave him a sheepish smile and got up to open the windows and the front door. The cool breeze that blew through the hut filled the room with much needed fresh air that flooded August's lungs. He closed his eyes with a deep sigh. The pain in his head was getting stronger with every minute.

"So...what happened to you?"

"An accident. I...fell from a rock. I was hiking."

"Oh" was all she said and he could tell by the sceptical look on her face that she didn't buy it. He really had to make up a better story.

"Can I call someone for you? Your family?"

"No. That's not necessary." He failed in trying to give her a smile. Instead he let out a groan of pain.

"Do you want to eat something? I can make us breakfast."

"I'm not hungry."

"But you have to eat, your body…"

"I'm gonna eat when I'm hungry." He cut in, giving her an angry glance. "I just need more painkillers."

She took a deep breath biting back a snippy remark. "There are only two left."

"That will do." He took the pills from her hand and she filled his glass with fresh water. “But I’m gonna need more.”

"Yes. I know. I guess we're going to need more dressing material and ointments too, so after breakfast I'm going to Srinagar and get the stuff and some supplies. I'll be away for at least five hours. Will you be alright without me, Austin?" He nodded, swallowing the last aspirins. "Five hours? Is it that far?"

"Well, it's just an hour drive to Mulanar but they don't have a pharmacy, it takes me another hour to get to Srinagar." She shrugged.

"I see." August was already drifting off to sleep again.

"Just make yourself at home, okay? And if you need something, just take it. Although you better not try to get up without my help."

She placed a jugful of water and a glass on the bedside table and an empty bucket on the floor beside the bed. "In case you need to pee...or throw up. I'm quite sure you have a concussion."

"Yeah. Sure."

Helen pouted her lips.

"Well, you're welcome."

Thank you didn't seem to be part of his vocabulary. She turned around and disappeared in the bathroom to take a shower and change. When she came back August was sleeping calmly. She dared to touch his cheeks and forehead now, no fever anymore. With a sigh of relief she sat down at her kitchen table and ate a bowl of wheat flakes with honey, cinnamon, nuts and goat milk. A cup of pink tea was supposed to give her energy after the restless night. She opened her laptop to google how to treat burns in general and severe ones in particular plus she made a list of things she was going to need for his treatment.

When she left her hut 30 minutes later she couldn't help but wonder where this strange encounter with Austin Peters was going to end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tbc

#august walker #august walker x ofc #august walker fan fiction #august walker fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #cavillry #henry cavill fandom #mission impossible fallout #Spotify

[itssuppertim3]

Share (Miraak x Remeir)

A sweet n' fluffy OC one shot for you, if I may

It was cold. And rainy. And wet.

Remeir and Miraak stood and observed the downpour, both pondering over their little predicament. In the spur of the storm, the two dragonborn took off towards the closest shelter they could find and luckily came upon an abandoned cave.

Miraak shook his head in dismay and grumbled an assortment of dovah curses. Remeir mustered a sigh before using a small flame spell to guide her way into the mouth of the cave. "This is just dreadful," Miraak muttered. "Dreadful, I say."

"Just get in here and help me start a fire before we both catch a cold," the redhead called back. Both of them were squatted down, a shivering mess. There were a few dried and burnable materials in her bag, such as paper, books she held no current interest in, and even unnecessary ingredients. The fire she managed to craft was a small one, yet durable. Luckily, her ebony armor deflected any rain from touching her clothes underneath. Her tall, atmoran companion was not so fortunate.

Miraak's robes were drenched and the worn fabric stuck to his skin like tree sap. She definitely didn't blame him for being as vexed as he was. "Don't glare at me with such remorse, Dragonborn," the man finally sighed. The quirky elf blew out a chuckle before rising to her feet. "I can dry your robes for you, if you want. I imagine it's not very comfy," she offered. Miraak inspected her extended hand and glanced at his outfit. "As long as you do not catch them on fire. I'm not in the mood for running around this land like a half-nude peasant." As serious and nonchalant as he was, Remeir bent over in a spew of laughter. "Oh, gods! How can someone as cold as you be so funny?! I could-- I could just picture you walking around like a damned caveman!" He clearly wasn't amused by the display in front of him.

In silent disgust, Miraak peeled off his top and threw it at his savior's face. "It's humiliating to be reminded that you were able to defeat me," he hissed. Still, she continued to chortle like an infant. Remeir was well-past her years of embarrassment. Over time, she gradually learned to ignore the opinions of others and lived the carefree life she always desired. That being said, most were so intimidated by her flamboyant personality that she was often avoided. She never failed to be amazed how Miraak had remained by her side for this long, now. Mara only knew almost every second with her had to be excruciating for him.

When the dunmer finally composed herself, she draped Miraak's robes above the fire and let the heat do its work. When she turned to face him, she had forgotten that his upper body was now completely and utterly bare. Saying that Remeir was unprepared for the sight in front of her was a massive understatement. As long as this woman had been breathing, she was more inexperienced with men than a fly was with a house! Besides the heavenly sound of his voice, she colored Miraak to have the body of one of the grey beards. That being said, she never failed to catch notice of the way his biceps swelled when lifting something heavy or how broad his shoulders grew when throwing his gear over his back. She knew he had a burly musculature. But this, this was something else entirely. Was that an eight-pack?!!

"Quit staring, you star-eyed oaf!" She switched back to reality when Miraak attempted to cover his front with his arms like an exposed woman. "My bad. Just trying to figure who the lucky lady you're trying to impress is," Rem stated bluntly before plopping down beside him. "Or~," she purred. "Could it be a seeker?" Miraak used his hand to push her face away. "You are outrageous," he grumbled. "Immature, little brat." Remeir ignored him and slid out her bedroll from her knapsack. As she started to unfold it, she glanced her companion's bag. "Is your stuff alright? It looks soaked."

"That's because it is. I cannot understand how I am the unlucky one in this situation. Other than those silly braids of yours, you along with all of your things are completely dry," he noted, fishing through his belongings. "Maybe it's because Lady Mara shines on my every step," she cooed. "Well, your Lady would sure be kind to shine a bit of light in my direction, as well." Sure enough, he retrieved a damp bedroll. "Oh, dear," she voiced. "Oh dear, indeed..." Miraak released a groan of annoyance and welcomed it on the cold floor. "Would you... like to share mine?"

A brief, uncertain silence was exchanged between the two. With Remeir's cheeks becoming the same pigment as her red strands, she started to frantic. "I-I mean, you probably won't like it since it'll be a tight squeeze. But it's better than sleeping on hard rock, right?" she clipped. Miraak took a moment to think it over. "Alright."

That night, Remeir was overwhelmed with all types of emotions. The soft glow of the campfire was able to ease her mind a tad, but viewing the large silhouette of Miraak's shadow flicker against the cave wall, it didn't do much help. She couldn't put her finger on it. It wasn't that she was afraid of him. His entire aura was just so overpowering to her. It was like sleeping next to a docile bear. The young elf stiffened after feeling his back press further into hers as he slept. He seemed awfully comfortable for someone who despised being even remotely close to another person.

He was so warm. She was surprised he produced so much body heat, which was the contrary to his icy persona. In all honesty, Remeir often admitted to herself that he was quite cute. He was strong, of course he was. He made made that clear whenever he was able, no matter the time nor place. But he was just so adorable! As her brain rambled on, Remeir neglected to notice him reposition himself on his other side to where his chest was firm against her back. She let out a tiny squeak in response. No longer was this man "adorable", he was flatout terrifying! "Miraak," she sounded. He was too deep in his slumber to reply.

When she attempted to wriggle some space between then, her actions were shot down upon feeling the sensation of Miraak's arms curling around the small of her form. Remeir's sanity was now dangling by a thread. He was so incredibly close to her in this moment, if his mask wasn't working as a barrier, he'd be kissing her neck! She nudged and squirmed and continued to make little attempts of stirring him from his unconscious oasis, but alas she ended up in failure each time.

"Zu'u los hin..."

The scrambled woman's breath had caught in her throat. She wasn't exceedingly fluent in Dovahzul like Miraak, but she was able to catch only his sleep-slurred words. "I am yours," he had said. What was that supposed to mean?? Rem prayed to every Aedra and Daedra that he wasn't dreaming of anything suggestive while holding her in such a way. Other than his odd choice of words and affectionate touch, he showed no signs of having any explicit intent.

Over the minutes, Remeir gradually released any pent-up tension she held and let herself become engulfed by the larger figure behind her. Miraak's legs softly entangled with her own and her heartbeat fell into the same rhythm as his. It was strange. She'd forgotten how safe it felt to be coddled by another person. She knew it wouldn't last, though she wished it would. Once he found out what he was doing, it would be the last time she would ever be caressed by him. That much upset her.

But little did the Last Dragonborn know, Miraak was awake the entire time.

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

God I literally love those two too much

#miraak #skyrim oc #elder scrolls #tesblr #dunmer #miraak x ldb #first dragonborn #one shot #fluff #dragon priest

[nostalgiabones]

Finding Out // C.H

So, this is the first blurb in my new ‘second baby’ series! Following on from the responses I got in this poll, I decided to do this as a series of blurbs rather than one big fic. Thank you to everyone for sharing your thoughts! I don’t have a solid plan for this series yet so there’s still plenty of time if you want to have any input. I’m basically going to do a pregnancy and baby series! As always, feedback is appreciated so please let me know what you think💕

Word count: 3.3k 

Warnings: pregnancy & sickness (nothing graphic!) 

“Baby…”

Calum’s gentle touch on your arm rouses you from sleep, his fingertips lightly running up and down your wrist. Your eyes flutter in response, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when you take in your surroundings. You’re in bed, in the middle of the afternoon, tucked up under the duvet with Mara asleep in your arms. Calum is perched on the edge of the bed, wanting to make sure you’re feeling okay after falling asleep for a few hours with Mara.

It wasn’t often you fell asleep with Mara during her nap. Additionally, Mara didn’t usually nap in your bed; she’d be in her own bed, in her own room, down the hall. Yet today, she had wanted just one story to settle her, and with your own eyes ladened with tiredness, you decided to read to her in your bed. The plan was to move her when she fell asleep, yet it seems as though you didn’t make it that far. It was becoming less often that Mara would nap, now that she’s almost four; only sleeping during the day when she had been unsettled the night before. 

“What time is it?” You murmur, careful not to move and jostle Mara – even though it’s time she wakes up too. Mara stretches, pushing her hands against your arm as she wriggles before settling again. “I didn’t even mean to fall asleep.”

Calum chuckles at your confusion, taking your hand in his own and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“It’s nearly 4,” He replies, his free hand brushing Mara’s curls away from her face. She leans into his touch, a sigh slipping from her lips as she snoozes. “I thought it was about time Mara woke up. We’re in for some fun later if she sleeps any longer.”

You nod in agreement, knowing she had already slept too much. You move the arm that’s wrapped around her, rubbing your fingertips up and down her back to wake her. She yawns and rubs her eyes, realising that she’s still snug up against you, and that she slept in your bed. “Hi mama,”

You smile at her words, her voice heavy with sleep. She sits up and notices Calum is there too; holding her hands out for him so he’ll take her. He lifts her up, standing up from the bed and sitting her on his hip as she wakes up a little more. It melts Calum’s heart to see you nap together – reminiscent of the days where the two of you had no responsibilities, where you used to spend whole afternoons asleep together, sometimes waking up when the sun had gone down. It makes him realise how different things are now. “Hi, little moon. Someone had a good snooze with mum, huh? Is your tummy ready for some dinner?”

He chats to her absentmindedly as he takes her downstairs, giving you a few moments alone to come round from your unexpected nap. Sitting up, you notice how your body aches with fatigue, your lower back twinging as you stretch. Thinking nothing of it, you re-make the bed, before joining Calum and Mara in the kitchen.

The familiar scent of Mara’s favourite pasta flooded your senses; one that you’d usually enjoy too, yet it makes your stomach turn as you enter the kitchen.  Calum notices the scrunching of your nose as it hits you, wondering what caused it.

“You okay?” He murmurs, his hands resting on your hips as you stand in the cradle of his hips. You nod, taking quiet deep breaths through your nose to stop the sick feeling creeping up your throat. Mara was unsuspecting, the sight of you and Calum close in the kitchen not unfamiliar to her. “What is it?”

“I think it’s the food,” You reply, that being the only thing you can think of that’s making you feel queasy. Calum’s warm palms rub up and down your back as your hands rest on his chest. “I’m okay, though. I might just be coming down with something.”

“Mmm,” Calum replies, raising an eyebrow in suspicion of you. The fatigue and sickness are all signs that he’s seen before; specifically, four years ago. “We’ll have to keep an eye on you.”

“I finished,” Mara calls out, your attention diverted from Calum to your sweet daughter sitting in her chair at the end of the table. The plate in front of her is clear and Calum has already covered the rest, saving it so she can have it for lunch tomorrow. You’re grateful that it’s no longer in the room, not wanting to get sick in front of Mara. “Can I go play?”

You nod, helping her down from the table, accepting the sweet hug as she wraps her arms around your legs. “You have an hour until bath time, okay? I’ll come play with you soon.” 

“Okay.” She responds, running off to the lounge where most of her toys end up throughout the day. Calum’s eyes follow you as you clear up after her; you feel him watching you, like he knows something is going on.

“Stop looking at me like that,” You tell him, without even looking at him. You know the look he’s giving you. It’s a knowing one. He knows the thought has crossed your mind too. “I’m fine.”

He chuckles, taking Mara’s plate out of your hands so he can take over cleaning up. He brushes a kiss to your pouty lips, before setting the dishes down in the sink. “Go see Mara,” he murmurs, followed by another kiss. “We’ll talk about it later.” 

***

“Is mumma okay?”

Mara’s question takes Calum by surprise as he brushes through her unruly curls, following her bath. Her cheeks are rosy from the heat of the bath and the warmth of her pyjamas, perched on the edge of her bed as he gets her ready to go to sleep.

Calum tends to forget how old Mara is – how she’s not a baby anymore, and how she’s much more intuitive than he realises. She knows when something is different – always a curious child, much like he was, always asking questions when she thought something wasn’t right. He didn’t want her to worry though. He’s almost sure of what’s going on – that you’re not sick, and he doesn’t want Mara to lose sleep over it.

“Why do you ask, baby?” He replies, although he already thinks he knows the answer. Bath and bedtime is usually a joint effort; yet tonight Calum has sent you to relax early. He knows you won’t unless he forces you to, and he doesn’t want you to overwork yourself, especially if his suspicions are correct. Mara notices your absence though.

“She said her tummy felt funny earlier,” Mara informs him, looking down at her hands as she talks. Calum hums in acknowledgement, setting the hair brush down on the side of her bed as he gets her attention. Gently tiling her chin to look at him, he notices her big brown eyes are filled with worry, and it makes his heart ache.

“Listen to me, sweetheart,” He murmurs, settling her in his lap so he can reassure her. “No worrying, okay? She’s fine, I promise. I’m sure she’ll be in to say goodnight any moment now.”

Mara nods, trusting of him – he knows he hasn’t settled her completely, yet he hopes that once you say goodnight, she’ll feel better. He feels bad telling her that you’re fine when Mara has heard otherwise, yet he doesn’t know how else to explain why he thinks you’re sick. Not until he’s sure, anyway. “Are you ready to get into bed?”

He’s cut off by you joining them in her bedroom; the night light illuminating the room in a soft glow. She hadn’t quite overcome her fear of the dark; still needing the golden light from the lamp to reassure her that there was nothing lingering in the shadows. Mara’s eyes light up at the sight.

“There’s my sweet girl,” You greet her, kneeling next to where she’s getting into bed. “Are you ready for some sleep? Mumma is ready to go to sleep too.” 

It’s something you say to her most nights, that you’re going to bed, so she doesn’t feel as though she’s missing out on any fun with you and Calum. Yet tonight it makes her more anxious, that you’re going to bed because there’s something wrong. 

“Does your tummy still feel funny?” She asks, tucking her bottom lip between a teeth -- a sign of her nerves. Her sweetness makes you smile yet you can’t help but feel bad that she’s worried. You help to tuck her under the duvet, pulling it up around her shoulders so she’s snug in the bed. 

“No baby, I feel better now.” You reassure her, though not completely true. It’s not something you want her to worry about either. Mara seems satisfied with your answer, shuffling down in her bed so her head is on the pillow. You rub your pointer finger over her cheek, watching as her eyes grow heavier and flutter as she looks at you. “Have sweet dreams, okay? We’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Love you, mama,” She murmurs sleepily, snuggling into the bed as you kiss her cheek. Calum follows, brushing her curls out of her face and giving her a goodnight kiss.

“Love you, baby. You know where we are if you need us, okay? Duke is here too,” Calum assures her, gesturing to the sleeping dog curled up on the foot of her bed. It’s where he slept most nights, wanting to be near Mara -- sometimes ending up under the duvet next to her. “Sleep tight.” 

You leave the room and pull the door to so she can sleep, knowing you and Calum have an interesting night ahead. 

“So,” Calum begins, leading you to your bedroom, where you had previously been curled up watching Netflix. You sigh as you sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at your slippers to avoid his gaze. He knows where Mara got that habit from. “You’re thinking the same thing as me, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You feign seriousness, taking a deep breath before looking up at him, a knowing smirk on your lips. “But when I napped earlier, the smell of your cologne on the pillow nearly made me throw up.” 

Calum raises his eyebrows -- another occasion reminding him of this time four years ago. He’ll never forget the time he came home from the studio and wrapped you in a hug, your face buried in his neck, but only for a second before you nearly threw up all over his shoes. He’d had to use something other than his favourite Calvin Klein fragrance for the remainder of your pregnancy, and he feels as though he’s about to have to do the same thing again.

“Do you still have those spare tests in the bathroom?” 

Your mind wanders to the stash of spare pregnancy tests in the bottom drawer of the bathroom cabinet, kept there always ‘just in case.’ It turns out to be pretty handy that you have them now. You nod, but make no effort to move from the bed in order to take one, and Calum wants to know what’s on your mind.

“Talk to me, honey,” Calum prompts you, sitting down next to you, his arm around your waist. You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, trying to avoid his cologne once more in the worry of it turning your stomach. You sit for a moment, trying to work out what you’re feeling before articulating it to Calum. “What are you thinking about?”

A second baby was something the two of you had discussed; you weren’t necessarily trying to get pregnant, but you weren’t trying not to, either. You just hadn’t expected it this fast, and your mind wanders to the sweet girl sleeping down the hall.

“I’m nervous.” You reply, wringing your hands together in anxiousness, and Calum tries to soothe you by taking one of your hands in his. He links your fingers with his, gently squeezing to keep you grounded. “What if Mara doesn’t want us to have a baby? She’s so used to it just being her.” 

Calum nods, and he’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind too. You were so settled as a family of three, always focused on Mara, yet you both know you always planned to have more than one child. 

“She’ll adjust, baby. It’s going to be new for us all. She has plenty of time to get used to the idea, and we can help her with that.” Calum replies, his hand rubbing up and down your arm as he speaks. “She’ll be so excited. You’ve seen how interested she is in talking to Luke about their baby when we see them.”

He’s right -- with Luke and his wife getting closer to the arrival of their first baby, Mara had taken a great interest in everything to do with her pregnancy. She had many questions whenever they visited, each time wondering when the baby would arrive. Her concept of time was something she didn’t quite understand yet. ‘Soon’ seemed to be her least favourite word. 

“I love how we’re doing this and we don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet,” You chuckle, followed by a laugh from Calum too. He pulls you a little closer and kisses your cheek, a smile on his lips.

“I’ll be very surprised if you’re not.” He replies, and you know he’s right. There had been little signs here and there; mainly the sickness and how tired you’ve been, along with a few other symptoms similar to that of when you were pregnant with Mara. You both recognise the signs. “Should we go find out for sure?”

You nod and follow him to the bathroom, closing the door behind you, as not to wake Mara. You go into the drawer and find the tests, pulling one out so you can use it.

“You’re really gonna watch me do this?” You ask, seeing as Calum had no intention of leaving the bathroom.

“I’ve seen worse things.” Calum replies, met with you rolling your eyes. “I’ll look away.”

He chats to you to take your mind away from your worries as you take the test. “Can you believe it’s been four years since we last did this?”

It doesn’t feel like four years. It barely feels like any time at all since you brought Mara home from the hospital. 

“Well, if you don’t count that one time after Mara’s first birthday.” You retort, Calum’s eyes widening at the memory before he laughs. That time you had definitely not been trying to have a baby. The test had been false, but you went through the motions all the same. 

“Oh yeah,” He murmurs, getting distracted by playing with his hair in the mirror. The bleach blonde look was starting to grow out, the dark roots no longer concealed. He made a mental note to get a haircut, not like he had more important things to think about in the moment. His attention is diverted by the sound of you running your hands under the sink, watching as the three minute timer began on your phone. 

“And now we wait.” 

Calum takes your hands in his once more and tries to get you to look at him, even though both of you are pre-occupied by the white stick next to the sink.

“Stop worrying,” He murmurs, like he can tell how fast your mind is racing. He knows it’s a big adjustment, that it’ll change your lives forever, just like Mara did -- yet he finds himself much less terrified than he was four years ago. “Whatever happens, we can handle it. We always do, don’t we?” 

You nod, feeling much better with him by your side. You think about how Mara will react -- will she be happy or upset? She’s so caring towards Duke, so you can’t help but think about how great of a big sister she would be. The thought of introducing a new baby to her makes your heart ache a little, just hoping that she would be happy. 

Time seems to stand still as you watch the clock on your phone -- the longest three minutes of your life. You press your face against Calum’s t-shirt, knowing that if his cologne did make you sick, you were in the right place. You’re both snapped out of your thoughts when your phone buzzes against the marble counter.

“I can’t look,” You tell him, facing away from the counter. As nervous as you are, now that you’ve thought about another baby, you know you’ll be disappointed if it’s negative. 

“Do you want me to?” Calum asks, and you nod, wrapping your arms around his waist and hiding your face against his shoulder. He picks the test up off of the counter and looks at the result, your heart pounding in your chest when he lets out a deep sigh. 

Pregnant. 

Calum pauses for a moment, his gentle touch on your lower back the only thing grounding you in the moment. 

“So... which room should we make into the nursery?”

You clasp your hand over your mouth, tears instantly slipping down your cheeks. Calum pulls you towards him, setting the test back on the side and wrapping both of his arms around your waist. He rests his head on your shoulder, his lips brushing the bare skin exposed from your jumper falling out of place.

“Really? I’m really pregnant?” You ask through tears, cupping Calum’s face in your hands so he’s looking at you. You see a shine in his own eyes, unshed tears just sitting at his lash line at the thought of your family expanding. Flashes of your pregnancy with Mara flood through his mind, as well as glimpses of the past four years of being parents. He can’t wait to do it all again. 

“Yeah, baby,” He chuckles, his tone laced with disbelief too. “Mara’s gonna be a big sister.” 

There’s so much on your mind, you don’t know where to begin. “Should we tell her?”

Calum shakes his head, one hand moving to rest on your stomach, your bump non-existent. His heart skips a beat at the thought of your bump growing and your body changing again, all to accommodate another baby. He knows it’s very early days and he doesn’t want to tell Mara until you know everything is okay. “I don’t think we should yet, honey. Let's at least wait until you see a doctor? Just so we know for sure.”

He sees a flash of worry in your eyes. He’s forgotten how scary pregnancy is; how you feel like everything is out of your control, yet you want to do everything you can to protect the baby at all times. 

“Don’t,” He murmurs, knowing where your mind is going. He cups your face in his hand, his thumb gently rubbing circles over your cheek. “Everything is going to be fine. We just need to be sure, okay?”

You nod, agreeing with his words. You reach up to peck his lips, savouring the serene moment of joy with him his fingers still absentmindedly brushing over your stomach. “Well, how should we celebrate?” 

“I just don’t know,” Calum chuckles, thinking for a moment. The word celebrate has a different meaning now that you’re parents; it used to mean getting dragged to a bar with his bandmates and not returning until the early hours, and then spending the following day in bed. Now, you’re lucky if you find the time to go out for dinner. “I think we should go all out. Ice cream in bed and Netflix?”

“Sounds like a plan,” You reply, brushing your lips against his once more. “But if you get ice cream on the sheets, you’re washing them tomorrow.” 

He shrugs his shoulder, nodding as he speaks, “fair enough. I’ll get the ice cream. I’ll meet you in the bedroom in 10.”

***

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[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ A MIRACLE ❜

with Angel Reyes.

Warnings: none, just a lot of fluffiness.

Word count: about 1.5k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author.

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“Where you at, mi dulce?”

“I'm with Pop”.

“He okay?”

“Kinda like. He called me because he wasn't feeling good. Stomach ache. But, don' worry. I prepared him a good dinner. Why don' you come with EZ?”

“Yeah, okay. We're on our way”.

Hanging up the call, you frown at Felipe, who is not paying attention to your indications, setting the table with some grunts. Rolling your eyes, you walk towards him to take the cutlery off from his hands.

“Pop, sit down, please”.

“I wanna help, mija”.

“You help me sitting down”. Chuckling, you continue the task, hearing him complaining in murmurs. “Your boys are coming too”.

“Good”.

Coming back to the kitchen, you take a spoon of soap to taste the salt in it. It's perfect and the smell is simply delicious. You couldn't imagine almost a year ago that you would be the connection between the three Reyes, after what Angel told you about his family. With your eyes fixed on Marisol's urn, you can't help but pucker your lips with a soft smile on them. She would be proud. And you would have liked to meet her. Your boyfriend always says that she would have loved you, and you can't agree more. Sometimes you find yourself talking to her about her family, about what they have done through the day, or even about you. You understand Felipe. You understand why he does it. Sometimes it helps, feeling like if she actually was listening to you.

Bringing the saucepan to the table, placing it over a wooden board, taking off the cover to put it aside. Felipe leans forward, getting a whiff from it with both eyes closed. The pleased humm in his throat makes you know that he is delighted.

“Smells good, mija”.

“Tastes better, you'll see”. Palming his shoulder, you turn to the window next to the main door.

The characteristic sound, which you are used to living with, is increasing as the motorcycles drive through the neighborhood until parking in front of the house. Going to the entrance, you wait for them resting your body against the frame. Getting off from their bikes, EZ smirks at you when he's able to hug you tightly, upstairs. Pecking your cheek, he comes inside to greet his grumpy father. In the meantime that your boyfriend embraces you closer, resting his forehead over your chest, curving a little his back.

“Been all day without seeing you”. He mutters, raising his face to reach your lips.

A softly and slow kiss caresses them, taking his time to enjoy your warmth, wrapping him with both arms.

“You missed me?”

“A lot, mi angelito”. You say with a honeyed tone of voice. “C'mon. Dinner is gonna get cold”.

“Yeah”. He nods.

His heavy steps go straight to his father, placing a kiss on top of his head.

“What's up, Pop?” Angel asks sitting at the table, by his left.

“Jezz, it smells so good, (Y/N)”. EZ says, waiting for you to serve the soup. “What's in it?”

“Rice and chicken. A classic”. You reply very proudly.

When the dinner is finished and the younger Reyes has taken charge of cleaning the kitchen, you share some beers in the living room watching a movie. Ezekiel is now lying on the recliner next to Pop's couch, while your boyfriend and you are sharing the sofa behind them. You actually aren't paying attention to the TV. Facing each other, with a leg over his, your arms are tangled on his neck and his on your waist. You love that sofa because, even if it's a little small for you two, that let you be so, so close. Traveling one of your hands to his right cheekbone, you caress it with your fingertips before touring his dense beard covering the line of his jaw. Angel has his eyes closed, peacefully breathing, but awake. Just enjoying your displays of love. Almost one year, and you keep falling for him every day a little more.

Bowing slightly, you press his cheek with your lips, leaving soft and shorts kisses not wanting to disturb his calm. But you kiss every single inch of his face; his temple, his forehead, the bridge of his nose, the tip of it, his chin. Until reaching his lips. At first, it's just an ephemeral taste. The beer on them gets mixed with your. He licks himself slowly, drawing a light smile on them waiting for another one. Touching his nose with yours, you kiss him again. His arms hold you a little closer, a little tightly, needing your proximity. You two look like two teens under EZ and Pop's eyes, who smile delighted looking at each other. And there's nothing sexual there. You could spend hours kissing him, just enjoying his tongue playing with yours and running out of air, to end up laughing. Your hand caresses his throat, while your lips continue dancing with his in a romantic and a measured improvisate choreography. You can feel his warm breathing, through his nose, colliding to your skin. With your leg around his waist, you push him so much closer until there's no distance between your chests.

You don't know how you have been living without him all your life. Angel either. Everybody says that you're like the light that illuminated his darkness, that he has changed since you met, to a small extent. Now he's more well-balanced. He thinks before acting. And he is mostly wearing a kind smile, good-humored. You know all his secrets, all his fears, all his insecurities; and for Angel is amazing how, knowing everything about him, you are still loving him without judging. Helping him to be his best version. Not only that, but helping him to have a close relationship with Felipe. That man is pig-headed to the limits, but he appreciates and loves you since the moment Angel introduces you. He is the first one who began to see the change in his son.

When your lips get separated in a clingy way, as if they were stuck, Angel is looking at you with a gaze full of love. Hiding his face on the gap of your neck, he takes a long deep breath of your scent, putting his lips there to kiss your skin so gently that gives you some nice chills. Your fingertips stroke his scalp, while he looks for some more calm.

“How I have been so lucky to find you?” You whisper into his ear, feeling his mouth curving in a fleeting smile. Just for a moment.

“I'm the lucky one, mi dulce”. He replies without hesitation, and a purr fixed in his throat. “Te amo”.

“Y yo a ti, mi angelito”.

Molding your body to his and resting your head over the cushion, you close your eyes. After a long day at the hospital, you are so tired that you don't care to fall asleep there. And it doesn't take you too much time, focused on Angel's breathing and his hands caressing your back. The only thing you feel after that, as if it was part of your dreams, is the brief weight of a blanket covering you two and a kiss on your forehead. Tightening your arms around your boyfriend by inertia, you continue immersed in your sleep.

Waking up bit by bit, hearing some noises inside the kitchen, you turn on the sofa. Angel isn't there anymore. Ezekiel and Felipe either. Getting up and stretching your back and arms, you walk barefoot following their voices.

“... and sometimes I find her talking to your mother”.

“How's tha'?” Angel whispers a little confused, having a sip from his mug.

“Yeah. When she's here, she talks to her. About you, about me, about your brother”. Felipe explains. “I really like her for you, mijo. She cares about you”.

“I know, Pop”.

“Good morning”.

Coming into the kitchen, after some seconds of silence, the three men turn at you to greet you.

“Buenos días, Marisol”. You mumble, slightly touching the urn, before continuing to kiss every man there.

Sitting on Angel's lap, you steal his coffee to drink it, hiding a delighted smile against the porcelain.

“You slept well?” He asks, placing a kiss on your shoulder. You just nod, putting an arm behind his neck. “Good… Plans fo' today?”

“Nothing, actually. Got a day off. Maybe I'll go to see Bishop. He told me that he needs some help with one of Vicki's girls”.

“Hm”.

“Feeling better, Pop?” Turning to the old man, he smirks at you. “Not lying to make me leave?”

“Not lying, mija. Your soup was like a miracle”.

“She is a miracle, papa”. Angel replies, rolling his eyes as if it wasn't obvious.

“And more like a trouble when she gets drunk”. Ezekiel laughs loudly, probably referring to the last Mayan party where you drank too much and maybe you lost control a little.

“Shut up, prospect”. Hitting his shoulder, you end up laughing too. “Anyway, call me if you feel sick again, okay? Got nothing important to do today”.

“I will keep it in mind, mija”.

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet @multiyfandomgirl40 @imanerdychubbyqueen @iambabyharry @firebenderwolf @itsanofrommesir @noz4a2 @peaches007 @edonaspanca @irenne-stans @skyofficialxx @that-chick212

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc #mayans x reader #angel reyes x reader

[veirtyel]

Okay so I saw a post about how little kids would like Joe and like pull on his beard with their hands and now I can’t stop thinking....

Imagine they have a mission of sorts where they’re supposed to rescue kids from traffickers, or there is a “important package” that’s in danger and the squad has been tasked by Copley to get it back. Nile, Andy, Joe and Nicky get into the abandoned building (I know how original) relatively easy. The men guarding weren’t particularly difficult to get past. They’re in and searching when they enter a room that at first glance looks completely empty, but in the corner is a box and a bundle of blankets. Joe gets closer, and looking past the barrel of his gun he sees a goddamn baby.

They all share glances, unsure of what to do because here are 4 heavily armed, deadly immortals faced with a small, tiny baby who when looking at Joe, starts laughing. Without really thinking Joe hands his gun to Andy and picks up the baby, cradling it in his arms because he’s not about to leave a baby in an abandoned building, and this must be the package given that the rest of the building is empty. Andy, although not completely opposed to kids, is still yelling at Copely over the burner phone about how he could a specified that the package was a real, human baby when they reach the closest safe house. She’s still yelling while Joe’s sitting cross legged on the sofa bouncing the baby up and down while Nile coos at it sitting next to Joe. The whole time Nicky is sitting across them both on the armchair, melting as he watches his love smile and laugh as the baby pulls at the curls on his beard. Usually beard touching is reserved for Nicky and Nicky alone, but he figures he could make an exception this once.

The baby isn’t there for long, but while they do have her they learn the baby girl is quite infatuated with Joe. Nile loves holding her and playing peek-a-boo, and Nicky will bounce her on his hip when he’s cooking their dinner or going through the mission files set out on their table. Even Andy, who out of all of them had the least severe case of baby fever, would smile and grin as she fed her the baby food Joe had immediately bought. Joe though. The baby loved Joe. Whenever she would cry, Joe would be the one the baby was handed off too immediately because somehow he managed to calm her down. At night it was his soft voice singing songs in Arabic that got her to sleep the fastest. Is was his funny faces that made her laugh the hardest and his beard that she loved twirling and grabbing at with her tiny hands. Once Nile walked past Nicky and Joe’s room and saw both men sitting across each other on their bed crossed legged as Joe’s large hands held her so she was standing up, facing Nicky who in turn was tickling her stomach as she giggled. Both men were smiling in a way Nile noticed they usually reserved for the other. Nile left after that, knowing a private moment when she saw one.

The Baby slept with Nicky and Joe too. They didn’t have a crib, and Joe and Nicky always had the largest bed so the baby would sleep right between the two during the night. The few weeks they had the baby was the first weeks in centuries where Nicky did not sleep with Joe’s arms wrapped around him. Instead, they slept facing each other, with something else in between them that they would protect. And Joe’s not going to lie. He loved waking up in the morning and having the first thing he sees is his love’s face peacefully sleeping.

It was almost three weeks later when the baby, who they learned was named Mara, was finally returned to her parents. She had been kidnapped as ransom as her parents were powerful people in a small country. She had been kept with the immortals because according to Copley, “There is no group of people who will protect the life of an innocent better than they can.” It was true, and they were happy to reunite Mara with her parents, but Joe couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain in his chest when she was gone. Later at home, Joe and Nicky would go to their room and Nicky would immediately wrap Joe in a hug.  “Do you ever wish we could raise kids?” Nicky asks softly, almost afraid of the answer. 

Joe huffs a small sigh and pulls back, bringing his hand up so its cupping Nicky’s neck, his thumb stroking his jaw. “Sometimes, but you’re enough. You are all I’ll ever need, Nicolò”

And it’s true. 

#the old guard #joe x nicky #immortal husbands #nile freeman #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #andromache the scythian #bruh this turned into a whole ass fit ngl #Should I make a whole as fic like actually? #Maybe if AO3 gets it shit together and fucking LETS ME MAKE AN ACCOUNT #okay nvm someone else write this im lazy #i just noticed all the typos i made but i dont care

[sugarbooger513]

Holding On (Chapter One)

I love writing OCs so much. This is the beginning to a fun JJK fic I had some ideas for. It will include spoilers and end up straying from the canon story. Please beware of that. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do <3

Mara belongs to @katgalle

Warnings: soft Gojo, mentions of guns, Gojo being... well, Gojo.

How long had it been exactly? Nine, maybe ten years? Nova blinks slowly before closing her eyes. It hadn't exactly hit her that she was back where she grew up. Maybe Tokyo hasn't changed much.

Sadly, she had changed a lot from that day.

She can still remember the laughter they would share. The simplest things would send them both into fits of hysteria. She hasn't looked at stupid cat videos the same since her second year of high school.

"Nova? Are you asleep?" "If you thought I was asleep," Nova sighs softly, "why would you ask?" When she peeks her eyes open, Mara smiles sweetly. "Ah, just thought I would be a bit polite. How are you feeling about moving back?" Nova's nose scrunches slightly. "It hasn't hit me yet."

Nova knows that Mara can read her better than she lets on. It's the curse of being twins.

"What about you? We've been in Osaka quite a while now." "Well, I can't say I'll miss it. I don't care where we go. It's just nice still being beside you." Nova can't help but smile softly. Truly, Mara has been there when she had no obligation to be.

When Nova's phone rings, she answers it with a sigh. "We should be pulling into the stop within the next ten minutes or so, Aunt Cammie." "Oh, good! I can't wait to see you two again!"

That's one of two reasons Nova can think it's a good thing to move back home. Aunt Cammie gave up her entire life to move to Japan in order to raise the twins. She could have allowed them to go into foster care, but she didn't. She could have forced them to move back to America with her and leave behind everything they ever knew, but she didn't.

Shortly before the twins went into high school, both of their parents were killed by a special grade curse. The worst part was that their mother wasn't even a Jujutsu sorcerer. She just happened to be around their father when it attacked.

"We'll see you in a few. Love you." "Love you too, sweet pea." When she lowers her phone, Mara places a gentle hand on her sister's shoulder. "She's been texting me non stop since we got on the bus." "Yeah, I kinda figured she would. She's excited to have us home."

"You called it home, Nova." "I'm trying to get over what happened. I really am. It just hurts." Mara leans over, resting her head comfortably on her twin's shoulder. "You're allowed to grieve as long as you need to, sis."

They stay quiet for the rest of the bus ride, casually leaning against one another. When it finally comes to a stop, the first thing they see from the window is their Aunt's flaming red hair, which both of them somehow inherited.

Mara races off the bus, grabbing her suitcases on the way, while Nova takes her time making sure everything was taken off the bus. Before walking off, she leaves the driver a tip.

"Nova!" Aunt Cammie engulfs her niece in a tight hug full of love. Nova drops her bags so she can return it. "I missed you girls so much. It's been so long." "I now, Aunt Cammie, but we're here now." She places both of her hands on Nova's face to stare lovingly into the eyes that match her dear sister's.

"You both still look so much like your mother." "Somehow we got your fiery hair though." Mara giggles and makes a point by swishing her flaming red hair around. Aunt Cammie gives both girls a kiss on the cheek before she starts helping them load her car.

"Your rooms are set up just like they used to be, right next to each other. I put some new sheets and blankets on the beds, new carpets are in the rooms, and- " "Aunt Cammie," Nova stops her aunt's ranting, "we still plan on getting out own place. For Christ's sake, we're twenty-seven."

Cammie's smile makes both girls feel a bit lighter. "I know, baby. I don't expect you two to stay long, but I want you to know that you will always have a home with me. I don't care what age you are."

Mara spends the entire ride singing her head off with Aunt Cammie in the front. Nova's phone starts exploding with texts from her second reason for coming back.

'I can't believe you're back! We have to catch up ASAP! Coffee later?' 'I didn't take you as a coffee person, but that sounds amazing.' 'Really, I'm not. The shit makes me feel like some old geezer, but I remember how you would get some every morning before school. Is your sister going to hang out with us?' 'Maybe? It'll depend on how well she can compose herself. I'm not sure how much she knows about you now.'

"We're home! Nova, what are you doing?" "Just texting a friend. He wants to hang out today, so we're making plans." Aunt Cammie grins like the she-devil she can be. "Really? I'm so glad!"

Mara had already made her way out of the car to start unpacking, so Nova does her best to catch up, but the twin is just too excited to be back home and races ahead of her into the house. "Well," Cammie rubs the back of her neck, "that probably isn't good." "What did you do?"

"Uhh, well, your friend had texted me this morning and asked if he could hide out here so he could greet you as soon as you got back.." Nova's eyes widen in shock. "It.. wouldn't happen to be the friend from high school, would it?" Cammie laughs a bit awkwardly. "The white haired boy.. that Mara always had that massive crush on..?" Nova drops her bags and races into the house without another thought.

Once she makes it inside, she sees Mara staring, slightly confused as the tall man towers beside her. "Why are you in my aunt's house, dude?" "Huh, you aren't running from me? Does that mean you're over that high school crush?" To Nova's own surprise, Mara only tilts her head. "Who are you again?"

The sound of that question is enough to make Nova let out a snort of laughter. The sound catches Gojo's attention, and he smiles brightly. "There's the woman I wanted to see." Gojo slips past Mara with a soft pat on the head.

Nova doesn't really expect Gojo to hug her, but he puts his infinity down just to wrap his long arms around her. Her head rests just below his shoulders. "Gojo," she laughs and places her arms around his lanky body, "I've missed you so much." "I've missed you, too. I see you haven't gotten any taller." "And I see you've grown even more, fucking string bean." He lets out a small chuckle as he pulls away from her.

"Sorry about the surprise. I just wanted to see you." "No, I appreciate it a lot. It's nice knowing you still care." Gojo's gorgeous blue eyes seem to sparkle behind his sunglasses. "Of course I do. Keeping in touch for nine years would make most people bored out of their minds, but I'm not like any other person."

Despite him trying to be cocky, he has a point. Anyone else she went to school with stopped talking to her less than a year after she moved. While they didn't talk daily, Gojo always sent her random texts throughout the week.

"I know, Gojo. Trust me," she walks forward and lays her head back on him, "I know. I'm so glad to have you back." His long fingers rake through her red curls effortlessly. "I'm right here, Nova. I'll be here as long as you need me to be."

"I didn't get to say good morning to you, Satoru! It's nice to see you again." Gojo chuckles and gives aunt Cammie a quick hug. "I should visit more often, work just keeps me away." "Well," she smacks his arm softly, "I hope Nova will entice you to come over more." "Of course, Aunt Cammie."

"Nova, love," Gojo leans to whisper in her ear, "tell Mara to put the gun away." "Mara! You know Gojo!" Mara scoffs slightly. "Can't believe I didn't recognize him. Sorry, I don't well to men showing up form nowhere." "Technically," Gojo turns to face her, "you showed up here. I've been here for at least an hour." "I still have a gun out. DO you want to continue this argument?"

He smirks, suddenly leaning down close enough that Nova can see his lips brush against her ear. Mara's eyes widen in shock as he chuckles. "Go ahead, sweetie. I want you to do it."

Nova can't help but let a small fit of laughter escape her, which earns her the look of all death looks. "Anyways," Gojo leans back up and turns to walk out the door, "I'm gonna pull my car around. I owe you a coffee date. Don't keep me waiting, baby."

Once he shuts the front door behind him, Nova sighs softly. "One of these days I'm going to- Holy shit, Mara! Your face is so fucking red!" Mara hides her now tomato colored face in her hands with a small squeal.

"I know it is! Damn it, I thought I was over his dumb ass!" Nova rubs the back of her neck. "Well, you didn't run from him this time." "Oh, I wanted to. I really wanted to, but instead I summoned my fucking glock!"

Aunt Cammie takes over calming Mara down while Nova rushes off with a bag to change. Opening her old bedroom door hits her with a wave of nostalgia. It really is how she left it.

On the bed is a basket filled with all kinds of goodies from Aunt Cammie. She even remembered that Nova's favorite animal is a buffalo, and included a cute stuffed one.

However, when she starts digging through the basket, she notices a few pictures that she printed off.

The first is one of Aunt Cammie, Mara, and herself. It had to have been long before the girls' parents passed away. Actually, if she remembers correctly, it's form the first time they met Aunt Cammie on a trip to America. They were no older than four.

The second picture is one of the girls getting accepted to Jujutsu Tech. Aunt Cammie must have taken the picture because the girls were busy being hugged to near death by their parents.

The third one is form her graduation. Gojo had graduated the year before she did, and he made it to her graduation when he wasn't sure he would be able to. In this picture, he has his arms around her and his face buried in her red curls. Truly, he was the only non family member she ever went to after her second year.

The last one has a note attached to it. She places it aside to stare at the picture. It had to be from her first year of high school. She was sitting on a pier, and next to her was a boy. His raven colored hair was pulled into a man bun. Behind their backs, his hand was on top of hers, almost enclosing the entire thing.

Thinking of that day brings tears to her eyes. She places it on her bedside table to grab the letter.

Nova baby,

I doubt this picture will bring you a real smile, but when I saw it in your box of memories I had to pull it out. No matter what life looks like now for him, or even for you, the two of you shared something special. Despite him only being a stepping stone in your life, he helped shape you into the strong woman you are today. Don't think about who he became because that isn't the same boy you found your happiness in. Think of the boy who made it a point to buy you flowers once a week before school, the boy who always asked me permission to take you to dinner, the boy who you and Gojo spent hours with daily. Think of the boy who loved everything about you. I love you babygirl, and I know that your journey in life has just begun.

Aunt Cammie

#jjk #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #gojo x oc #nanami kento #nanami x oc #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen original character #jjk oc #original character #geto suguru #Geto x oc

[rosealine-bishop]

Greaseball Headcanons

Okay so, @marastriker and I were talking last night about some GB headcanons. Not all were happy. But Im of the strong belief that no one starts out being the way they are and that their circumstances change and make them the way they are. So, playing off of that, here are some headcanons I've got about GB. (Some HCs may be familiar because they're also on this post here since they and I also were talking about other things and got to talking about potential kids and how GB & Dinah + Electra & CB would be as parents)

Anywho, I've talked about the background long enough, let's get to the main post.

(Might make this a two parter because it genuinely gets so so long)

(also @sweet-dining-car this is the post I mentioned)

TW: abuse, alcoholism, death, violence

So, for starters, GB wasn't always the way he is now. (Even now he actually deflects and has created this persona of a meathead who can be a total dick, but genuinely he's just a soft and nice guy at heart) Back when he was a kid, he actually was the cutest and sweetest kid out there. He was always so nice to all the other trains, and acting as a protector for all of the other trainlets (even if he was the runt of the litter. He just wanted to be like his favorite super hero: Captain America)

He would always be seen trailing Poppa or getting the most upset and doing his best to cheer up Poppa whenever he was having a bad day or looked even the slightest bit upset.

On that same note, Momma to him was like a second mother and both her and Poppa were the perfect relationship. (yes in my HCs Momma and Poppa exist together and same for the Hip Hoppers and the Rockies)

Unfortunately, at home, it wasn't as good as he could imagine it was in the train yard. At home, his dad was the biggest homophobic and toxic masculine guy you can image. A raging alcoholic with gigantic anger issues. He would constantly beat GBs mom and sometimes GB too.

His dad believed that BECAUSE he was the runt, that constant abuse would make him stronger. GB used to be the biggest cry baby but through years and years of abuse, would learn to hide it and "be a man"

His mother would sneak in some vinyls she managed to get for GB of Elvis or Frank Sinatra or anyone else she could find and she would help him hide everything when his dad would get home from work.

GB has always had a soft spot for dining cars because his mom worked close by them and he would sometimes visit her at work when he was way younger.

GB isnt actually straight. He's bi but represses it and hides behind the toxic masculinity because he made the mistake of telling his dad when his dad had a good week and he was almost beaten within the edge of his life. (and since that day, the abuse towards him was actually way worse)

GB would hide any of the abuse behind clothing and sunglasses and a cool guy persona. He would use it to deflect and pretend that nothing was wrong at home.

Eventually when GBs parents split (which was close to him turning 18), his dad managed to convince the court that his mom was unfit to be a parent. (Him and his mom talked about it before and agreed that in the end if the court asks GB his opinion on where he wants to live, he would choose his dad and then go find her when he turns 18. Because that way it would be best for the two of them)

So, at 18 he left without telling anyone and went to go find his mom. However, he never did and in fact found out about the fate of his mom from a phone call, telling him that she was found beaten to death. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what had happened.

GB actually blames himself for his mother's death, but like a good son, uses whatever money he had earned to give his mom a proper burial.

When he has to go back to get her personal belongings, he takes all the photos and rips his dad out of all of them and hangs them around his small one bedroom apartment. He even managed to find some old recordings of his mom singing and some old home videos. (he cherishes those and will play them when he's sad so that he never forgets his mom. and in a way he always has a part of her with him)

He actually is really good at metal working (thank you mara for this headcanon) so he uses his skills to make his necklace from one of his mom's old earrings so she's always with him and in a way that necklace becomes his lucky necklace in all his early races.

Speaking of races, his first race outfit wasn't the best quality at all. He didn't have much so he created the whole outfit from scratch and he actually used to hide his face no matter what, behind a poorly made train helmet, to hide from the risk of his dad finding him.

The longer he was away from that situation, the more he actually would hide behind the early version of the persona that he has now. He's always idolized Elvis and he holds a spot close to his heart for the singer, that he started slowly changing his appearance to look more like Elvis.

He started working out so he would never be seen as weak ever again.

Eventually, he made a big enough name for himself that he would get interviews on TV every now and then and that's how his dad found out about him still being alive. At first it didn't really click in his dad's head but the moment GB started speaking, his dad knew exactly that that was his son. (Yes he sounded more like Elvis but a father never forgets his son's voice)

So, his dad, as an anonymous donor, asked a young CB to crash GB in the next race. CB, not one down to turn down money did just that. And yes, that whole interaction had put GB out of many races and caused him to pawn off any and all belongings to pay for his hospital bills because any small sponsor he had managed to get dropped him.

(No one wants damaged goods)

and while GB is back to normal, he every now and then when he's super stressed, will feel his bones aching, like a phantom injury and he will start limping slightly because he never fully healed from that.

But now that he knew about CB would go to him and ask him to throw races in his favor, sometimes paying in sexual favors, sometimes in actual money. Because otherwise, he felt like he could never be at 100% and would always lose any race after his accident.

He needed the sponsors and money so he would do anything to get back into the top contenders.

He has major daddy issues that he and Dinah have discussed before. She's probably the only one who knows about GBs true past (aside from Pearl and Poppa and Momma)

Because of his trauma, he actually hates hearing even the word "daddy" so one night when CB accidentally lets it slip during one of their sexual encounters, GB slaps him. Thats the only time GB would actually hit anyone.

On that note, GB actually wont ever truly hurt anyone. For all he knew, Rusty actually did crash and all the damage was from that crash. He had no idea the Diesels roughed him up.

But one night when him and Rusty talk and he finds out about what actually happens, Electra has to get his components (namely Krupp and Killerwatt) to hold him back as GB unleashes hell and yells at the diesels. Like there is pure murder in his eyes.

Yes, sometimes GB hurts other trains during races but after every race they get an anonymous donor paying for all the repairs and a letter along with it with a long apology and flowers. (Dinah helps him spell check it)

GB has only cried twice since he was a child. Once when he found out his mother died (and thats the only time he would turn to alcohol. Otherwise he swears off of it completely) and second when he found out Dinah was pregnant.

GB is 100% terrified of thunderstorms because it reminds himself of his old living situation. Often times you can find him hiding in the closet or under the bed, pillows over his ears and under many layers of blankets.

He would actually be one to collect Squishmallows and other stuffed animals because he never got to as a kid. But whenever he gets any stuffed animal, Dinah names them. However, when his kids are born, he gets matching squishmallows with Norma Jean and Presely and names them after his kids. (Thats probably the only time he gets to name any stuffed animal)

GB actually really really loves Dinah. On the yard he may be this dick towards her but the moment he gets home he apologizes to Dinah profusely and will do anything she wants to make up for it.

He would NEVER do anything to hurt her and when she's pregnant will go above and beyond to be there for her. He even went to Dustin to ask for advice and tried to ask him to keep the fact that Dinah was pregnant under wraps (unfortunately, Dustin, being the sweetie that he is, cannot keep it under wraps and eventually the whole yard knows. Poppa actually gives him some of the best fatherly advice.)

When he finds out that Dinah is pregnant, however, he has multiple night terrors about his childhood. He becomes extremely scared that he'd be like his dad and both Dinah and Poppa reassure him that he's nothing like his dad. That in fact, he has more of his mom in him than he realizes. (Dinah even says he looks more like his mom than his dad, even though GB doesnt see it. She's also not one to admit that she actually knows that its true. She's seen a few ripped up pictures in the trash of his dad back when GB and her first started dating.)

Dinah is actually the one who helps GB compile all of the pictures of GB and his mom into a photo album. This photo album eventually has pictures of Dinah and GB and then Dinah, Norma Jean and GB and then Dinah, Norma Jean, GB and Presely. So its just one big happy book about everything right in his life.

One day, he even finds Norma Jean decorating it and Norma Jean, being the little kid she is is worried that her dad was going to be mad because it looks like he had a bad day at the yard and she just touched something that he cherished, even if she was trying to make it pretty, but GB actually tears up at it because its the cutest thing he's seen and now that book is just that much more special to him. He actually gets the whole family to do hand prints on the back and then sign their name underneath (with an addition of him writing "One Big Happy Family" underneath it all)

_________________________________________________________

Okay okay this has to be it for this post because there are just so many more headcanons and I wanted to end it on a happier note. So if anyone wants to know more I'll create a part two but for now this is what we've got because good god is it long.

#all about the pain train #this genuinely hurt me to write or even talk about with mara last night #but like...here we are #GB didn't have a good childhood #gb stex #stex #starlight express #greaseball starlight express #dinah #dinah starlight express #dinah the dining car #greaseball x dinah #starlight express cb #caboose #red caboose #stex caboose #stex cb #starlight express caboose #dinah stex #stex headcanons #starlight express headcanons

[luca-moreno]

“Does it ever stop hurting?” “No, you just make room for it.” (isaac)

post war terra nova --

Luca does his best to block out the soft, breathy moans drifting from down the hallway. He’s used to them by now, but he’s not used to the teeny tiny pang of envy that curls around his heart when he hears them. Not envy for either of them, but envy for just… someone.

He tugs on the soft folds of his quilt and gathers up his pillow to make his way through the quiet farmhouse. The front door is sealed only by a screen to keep the bugs out and the floorboards creak ever so slightly under his feet. He’s tread them so often now, he knows which boards are louder than others, where to place his feet to creep through the darkness. Outside he can see the moon reflecting across the surface of the lake and he shuffles barefoot through the damp grass towards the small dock that juts over the water. And overhead, the stars are bright and expansive in a cloudless sky, so vibrant in the deep night it feels like he can reach up and touch them. These are the times on Terra Nova he likes the best, when the sparkle presses down on him and he can lie back and imagine he’s still right up there amongst them.

He drops the quilt to the dock along with his pillow and lies back, hands behind his head as he tracks the movements of the distant solar systems. The night wasn’t quiet, too noisy with the native nocturnal flora and fauna echoing soft calls and rustling through the wildflowers. It had been one of the hardest things to get used to when Isaac had brought him here. That and the wide, open skies and the smells of so much earth. Everything was so fresh and wild here and Terra Nova was beautiful away from the ravaged cities. Isaac had been lucky that the farm had been saved from the reapers, but Luca was luckier that Isaac had insisted in sharing it with him.

Sometimes Luca had to sit back and wonder how it had all happened to him. A home and a family and a future far beyond what he could ever have dreamed for himself all wrapped up in one.

He’s still watching the stars wheel overhead when the vibration of footsteps echo through the dock. Luca doesn’t bother to sit up yet. He recognizes that solid tread, knows exactly who it is before he even lowers himself beside him.

“What are you doing out here all alone?” Isaac asks him quietly.

Luca pulls himself up so he can sit shoulder to shoulder with the other man. “How did you know?”

“I heard you creeping. It’s that fourth step, gives you away every time.”

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

Isaac hums thoughtfully then, - “Did we, uh... Were we too loud?”

Luca’s glad for the dark to hide the twitch of his mouth. There wasn’t much that rattled his captain- no, Admiral now, but any mention of his very active newlywed status was one of them. Luca shakes his head.

“No, don’t worry. I’ve been awake for a while. Couldn’t sleep. I dunno, just those post war blues, I guess.”

“Luca,” Isaac sighs. “You know you can talk to me, son. About anything but if you need to talk to a pro-“

“No,” Luca waves him off. “Nah, not that. I’m okay, really. Well, maybe a little sore and tired from all the work you’ve been making me do around here because boy, launching drones and hacking unfriendly AI's is absolutely nothing like building fences and milking cows or planting... and oh, sweet khalahira, that’s it isn’t it? I’ve found you out. I’ve uncovered your scheme. It was your devious plan all along, wasn’t? Befriend the stray and establish trust, then drag them back to your colony to make them work for you as slave labor on your farm.” Luca shakes his head disapprovingly and with great drama. “Admiral Cerrillo, I’ve discovered your nefarious plot. I'm disappointed in you.”

Isaac chuckles in spite of himself. “You have been spending far too much time with my mother, Luc. You almost sound just like her.”

“Well, someone has to keep you in line-“

Luca’s comment is joined word for word by another voice, this one high and sweet. He looks up to find Eva walking onto the dock, a pale lace shawl around her shoulders to protect her from any chill and a curtain of pale hair loose around her head. Her grin is a flash of white in the darkness.

“See,” Luca elbows Isaac as Eva takes a seat on his other side and loops her arm through his. “It’s not just me.”

“I don’t know if I should be amused or terrified,” Isaac says dryly. “Maybe I shouldn’t be leaving tomorrow after all if it just means you’re all going to gang up on me.”

Luca tries very hard not to let the dark pit in his stomach leak too heavily into his heart at that thought. The closest thing he had to a father, and one of his most favorite people in the galaxy was going to be leaving them again.

It was hard enough for him and Mara, he can't even imagine how hard it will be for Eva.

But then Eva is nothing if not strong.

She props her chin on his shoulder, as though sensing the thread of his thoughts. Somewhere off in the distance, there’s a small splash of something diving into the lake. If he’s lucky, the fog might creep in and he’ll be able to stand in a cloud again.

“Are you alright, Lulu?” she asks him softly.

He leans into her, ignoring the question. He’s not sure what he is these days.

"Sure," he shrugs. "Why are you guys both up now, anyway? Did you get lost on your way to the kitchen looking for sustenance before round-”

“Fourth step,” Eva reminds him with a squeeze of her red painted nails against his arm. She's chuckling though. “Gives you away every time you sneak out.”

“That damn floorboard,” Luca mock growls just as Isaac says, “See, that’s what I told him.”

They laugh together and Luca leans further into Eva’s warmth. It’s nowhere near the closest season on the colony, but it was cold enough that the slight breeze off the lake makes his skin prickle and he shivers.

He refuses to admit it could be anything else.

“Does it ever stop hurting?” Luca asks suddenly, the question bubbling up inside of him and falling out of his mouth before he has a chance to stop it. He's ignored it for so long, pretended it didn't exist - he wants to regret it, to hunch down and hide his face, but some how he can't find the energy to do so anymore.

That was the worst part, he thinks. The sapping grief that made it hard to even function.

"Oh, Lulu," Eva murmurs as she pulls him into a hug. Luca sobs once into her chest as Isaac squeezes his shoulder with a soothing gentleness.

“No," he says softly. "You just make room for it.”

"I hate it," Luca mumbles. "It's stupid and it hurts and I didn't mean to wake up sad and make you both come out here. You don’t have to be here. I was trying to give you space. You know, because it’s the last night and all and... you guys love each other and I love you both and-”

Isaac squeezes his shoulder again, ending his ramble. “We know that, son. But we love you too. And you don’t have to be alone. Ever.”

#fun fact i discovered tonight: terra nova doesn't have a moon? #well now it has two *throws sand* #i blame this on the stupid aesthetics that have been haunting my tl lately #eva novakov #isaac cerrillo #luca moreno #luca prompt fills #post war #terra nova

[fenrys-moonbeam-lochan]

A little fear shared among friends

Summary: Lorcan is a father of five. Rowan is scared of having children.

Ao3

Part of my ToG Comfortember 2020

tw: Rowan has a mild panic attack. I’m not sure it can be called that but I decided to put it here just in case. 

XXX

When Rowan chugged down his third drink of the night, he even had Lorcan giving him worried looks.

"Whitethorn," said his former commander, "You alright over there?"

"I'm drinking," he grumbled at Lorcan

"Leave him alone Lochan," said Fenrys from beside Rowan "He's been pissy all day. I think he had a fight with Aelin,"

"Huh," said Lorcan, eyeing Rowan as he filled his cup again, "Maybe you should go home,"

Rowan glared at him from across the table.

"I can hold more than this, you know,"

"Oh trust me, I know," said Lorcan, still on his first drink, "But usually not this fast and you don't want to go back to the Queen drunk if you did have a fight,"

Rowan slammed down his cup.

"You know," he told Lorcan, "Sometimes I miss the times when you were a brooding asshole that destroyed himself and let others destroy themselves through drinking and wallowing,"

"Well," answered Lorcan, voice filled with sarcasm, "I am so very sorry that my emotional growth is a hindrance to your pity drinking. Truly, Your Majesty, I apologize from the bottom of my cold dead heart,"

Fenrys burst into laughter while Rowan glared at Lorcan. A lesser male would have been cowed. As it was, Lorcan stared right back as he took a long sip from his cup of ale. A cup, that Rowan noticed, was still half full.

"I would like to know," said Fenrys, once he got his laughter under control, "Why aren't you getting drunk? I at least have the excuse of having to leave for Doranelle early in the morning. What's yours?"

Lorcan smiled, "I don't want to go back to my rooms drunk. Elide and the children are here with me,"

Rowan flinched as the older male mentioned children. Fenrys did not seem to notice as he exclaimed about not knowing the other Lochans and Salvaterres were there.

"I'll have to see them before going to sleep," said Fenrys, "I had no idea you brought them with you this time,"

While Lorcan was obviously nodding along to Fenrys, Rowan could also feel his eyes on him. Unlike Fenrys, he had most likely noticed Rowan's movement from where he was sitting. He could only hope Lorcan would leave it alone.

"Well," said Fenrys, as he finished his cup, "I should go now. The travelling party wants to leave as early as possible and I don't want to be tired in the morning,"

After a quick goodbye, Fenrys left and their drinking party of three turned into two.

"So," said Lorcan, "Children, huh?"

Rowan finched again. He couldn't help it.

"What is it about the mention of children that's making you react like that?" asked Lorcan, looking over him quizzically, "If Elide's word is to be believed, you two were merely waiting to have children. You both still want them, don't you?"

"Yes," said Rowan, barely above a whisper.

"What's the problem then?"

Unbidden, the memory of the dark vision came to him. His children and his mate being swept away from him. The darkness swallowing them whole. Not being able to save them, just watching them disappear. They had been so beautiful and he could imagine it happening in reality. One wrong move, one wrong decision and a precious life could-

Leave.

Rowan

Be gone.

Rowan

"Rowan!"

He shook himself out of his reverie to find that Lorcan had moved beside him, his hand hovering just over Rowan's shoulder.

"Are you back with me?" asked Lorcan, looking at him critically

Rowan nodded jerkily.

After another moment, Lorcan gently placed his hand on Rowan's shoulder. Rowan stiffened at first but hen relaxed at the contact, allowing the other male to ground him.

"Rowan?" asked Lorcan, "What in Hel just happened?"

Rowan sighed, "It's complicated,"

How was he supposed to explain it to Lorcan? to anyone?

However, then another set of images flitted through Rowan's mind. Lorcan holding his son Zirrek for the first time, crying in a way Rowan had never seen before. Lorcan holding his daughter Salva a year later, just as enchanted. Lorcan absolutely terrified as his children grew, thinking he would do something wrong. Lorcan coming to him, saying that he was thinking of bringing up adoption to Elide. Specifically, the adoption of three abused demi-fae siblings between the ages of nine and thirteen who would later take the name Salvaterre. Lorcan wondering over and over again, if he was doing right by his children, biological and adopted.

Lorcan just a few months ago during the holidays, three years after the adoption, surrounded by all his children and smiling the brightest smile he was capable of.

If anyone was going to understand his fears it would be Lorcan.

"I'm- well," he tried, "I'm-"

He cut himself off with a shuddering breath but Lorcan only watched him, wearing a patient expression quite like the one Rowan had worn when the older male had gone on a panicked tangent a week before Zirrek's birth. It was odd to be on the receiving end of it.

After a few moments, Rowan tried again.

"I'm- I guess," he said, "I guess I'm afraid,"

"Understandable," murmured Lorcan

Rowan sighed. Lorcan kept watching, hand still in place.

"Do you remember those dark visions we saw?"

Lorcan stiffened and then visibly forced himself to relax.

"Yes," he said roughly

"I've never told anyone," said Rowan, "Not even Aelin,"

Lorcan brow furrowed, "Rowan are you sure-"

"I saw children,"

"Oh," Lorcan said softly, "I see,"

"I saw our children, four of them. They were standing beside their pregnant mother. They were beautiful, Lorcan, so beautiful. I reached for them and they were taken away from me into darkness and dust,"

"Rowan-" whispered Lorcan, voice filled with the anguish Rowan felt

"And I know- I know it was only a vision. But I already lost a family once, Lorcan, and every time Aelin brings it up, I flashback to that. And it's so ridiculous, absolutely stupid that I can't get over it. And I know I'm hurting Aelin because of it but-

Rowan was running out of breath as he spoke, his throat closing around his words.

"Whoa, whoa," said Lorcan, shaking him a little, "Rowan, stop,"

Rowan shut his mouth with a click.

Lorcan was now holding him by both shoulders.

"Come on, Whitethorn, breath for me,"

Rowan took a few shuddering breaths but then forced himself to stop and match Lorcan instead. It took a few minutes, but eventually, Rowan came back to his normal pattern of breathing.

"Rowan. First of all, it's not stupid or ridiculous," said Lorcan, sliding his hands down so he was holding Rowan's wrists, "On the contrary, it's perfectly understandable,"

"Right," sniffed Rowan, trying to get himself under control.

"I don't have to tell you what you need to do now,"

"No," groaned Rowan, "I have to talk to Aelin,"

"Yes,"

Rowan let out a chuckle, sounding a little hysterical to his own ears and making Lorcan look at him nervously.

"I can't believe I just did all that in front of you," he told Lorcan

Lorcan laughed, relieved, "It's alright. Remember me before Zirrek was born?"

"I remember," said Rowan, grinning at the memory, "Both Vaughan and I practically had to hold you down from pacing,"

"Yes," said Lorcan, "And look at me and my children now,"

Rowan smiled as he thought of Lorcan and Elide's children. The oldest, Mara Salvaterre, was sixteen now and quite proficient in taking care of their gardens. They seemed to grow and blossom under her touch as if she was breathing life into them herself. The second child, Shyla Salvaterre, whose magic was the reason Lorcan had discovered them was fourteen and already a great warrior. The middle one, Amin Salavaterre, was now twelve and fluent in eight different languages, all taught to him by his father. Zirrek and Salva Lorcan were only six and five so it was hard to tell their direction in life. However, they had their mothers' wit and kindness and their fathers' strength and stubbornness. All the children were quite adored by the court, and while Lorcan liked to credit Eiide with them, everyone knew Lorcan gave them as much as his wife did.

"Your children are wonderful," said Rowan.

"That they are," said Lorcan, a soft smile on his face, "And I'm still afraid but it passes and I look at them and everything washes away,"

"Hmm," said Rowan, "Maybe talking to Aelin will help,"

Lorcan nodded and then chuckled.

"If only we could have Aedion's confidence,"

"Right," Rowan said with a small laugh, "It would be much easier,"

Two years ago, Aedion and Lysandra's first child had been born and now they were expecting their second one. Both times, Aedion had thrown himself into preparation with gusto, reading from books, learning from healers and talking non-stop about how excited he was. Of course, he had had the normal fatherly nerves that came with becoming guardian to a precious little life but even those had been normal and fleeting. Absolutely nothing like Lorcan and Rowan's panic.

"You should talk to him too," suggested Lorcan.

"Yes. That's probably a good idea," he said and then shook his head a bit as it started to fog, "I think my drinks are hitting me a bit,"

Lorcan smirked.

"I would expect that much," he said, "I will walk back with you,"

His tone left no room for argument and Rowan found himself nodding. They silently walked back to the royal suites. Lorcan kept a hand on his back to steady him for which Rowan was grateful. Once they got to the right door, Lorcan took his hand away and nodded towards the door.

"Don't forget to talk to her,"

Lorcan turned to leave but before he could, Rowan caught him by his sleeve.

"Lorcan?" he said

Lorcan turned and looked at him questioningly.

"Yes?"

Rowan smiled, "I don't miss you being a brooding asshole,"

Lorcan smiled back, moving his hand so their fingers were curled around each other.

"I know, Rowan,"

"Good night," said Rowan, "Give them my love,"

Lorcan nodded and squeezed Rowan's fingers gently before walking away. Rowan turned and took a deep breath, opening the door to find his wife sitting on the settee and reading a book.

"Fireheart," he murmured, "I think I need to talk to you,"

Aelin gave him a gentle smile, one he did not think he deserved but cherished anyway.

"Then let's talk, Buzzard," she said, patting the space beside her.

Smiling, Rowan gently closed the door behind him.

A few suites over, Lorcan slipped inside his rooms quietly to find his children sitting around the fireplace, being read to by their eldest sister. He kissed each of their foreheads and told them that uncle Rowan loved them. Mara wrinkled her nose a bit, but the rest of them smiled sleepily and nodded. Lorcan then went into his room where Elide was already under the overs and asleep. He quickly changed and slipped in beside her.

Even in bed, he kept an ear to his children as they finished their story and were ushered to bed by the eldest girls. He didn't stop listening until all their breathes evened out and they were asleep in their beds, warm and safe from the world.

Lorcan sincerely hoped that one day Rowan would be able to know this kind of love and peace too, the kind that came from watching your children grow and thrive

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