#but I hope that I Was Born The Day Before Yesterday at least gets to be a bonus track | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

minkdelovely · 2 months

Text

love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

chapter six

“the more that you give away the more that you have.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: diet codependency (doesn’t quench the thirst), mentions: blood play; biting, slow burn eventual: smut

word count: 3.2k

author’s note: don’t get too excited over the tags lol but we’re kicking things into gear cherished ones. i’m unsure how many chapters are left but i’d like to aim for ten (total; i’m low-key flying by the seat of my pants) but fire is starting to catch as we close in on our journey. thank you for sticking with me on this, i hope it’s been as fun for you as it has been for me and that my gratitude is properly conveyed in this chapter ❤️‍🔥

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Watching Alastor leave the hotel without you felt… strange. When he passed through the door you half expected to feel that invisible tugging at your neck, beckoning you to follow, but it never came. Leaving you unsure how to deal with the level of disappointment you felt at its absence. All you hoped was that he couldn’t see it in your eyes when he turned to give you a final smile before walking down the entrance stairs.

It had turned out to be quite the morning, just not in the way you had expected. Alastor told you about how your afternoons were to be spent over his breakfast, not the least bit apologetic for springing it on you at the last minute in spite of knowing since yesterday. A couple things clicked into place with this knowledge, like your conversation at the cafe. Just as you had suspected, what you had ended up talking about had nothing to do with the important things he had sat you down for.

That’s what he meant when he said he had a busy morning, you thought as you watched him pick at his food, looking less and less like the wraith you had seen the night before. You had used the phrase duality of man as a joke in your mortal life, but Alastor set quite a bar for it. Despite the short amount of time you’ve spent with him, you really had managed to learn a lot about him. A goal of yours that seemed to be… shifting.

What had been born from a place of survival was now skirting the lines of fascination. A discomfort settled in you as you realized this, knowing that you were drifting into dangerous territory. Developing a fascination — you couldn’t admit to another word yet — with Alastor wasn’t smart for a lot of reasons. He owned you, for starters. Not that you’d have ever been on even ground with someone of his status, but knowing you were literally at his beck and call… It was hard grappling with that.

Your grandmother had been such a terror, the expectations she had of you impossible to obtain. Whether she blamed you for your mother’s death or if she would have treated you the way she did regardless was something you’d never know. But you thought you were done being pushed around and forced into boxes you didn’t fit when you went through with your plan to murder her. Turned a new leaf, as they say.

Yet here you were, with not even a little bit of resentment towards your keeper. He annoyed you with his antics, sure, but you found yourself to be more fond of him than you had expected to be. Hell, you even took extra care making his bed every day despite knowing he didn’t sleep in it — it would’ve done no good to have him catching on that you knew he was just messing up the sheets. You were surprisingly reluctant to put his bed back in order this morning, wanting to preserve its state for as long as you could, burning the image of it to your memory. Even though they were still relatively neat, the slept-in sheets were a peek behind the curtain; another facet of him for you to collect.

The seemingly ever-present lump in your throat creeped up again, sending a tingling jolt through your body at this thought. Fondness, fascination. It had been a very long time since you had attached words like these to someone, and even then it wasn’t something you felt very often applied to anything past friendship. What little friends you had, anyway, preferring a small circle over a plethora.

You had experienced some romance in your life, but nothing longstanding. Flings might be a better word, comprised mostly of the usual dinner and a movie followed by some backseat fumbling. Living with your grandmother didn’t exactly present the option of bringing someone back to your room. And it was fun while it lasted but the payoff had never felt worth it in the end. You were more grateful for the distraction it provided from home than anything else. A lot of the time it just felt like another personality to juggle that you simply hadn’t the energy for.

But was this really something you were beginning to feel towards the Radio Demon? Or were you merely clinging to the twisted sense of stability he represented? Wanting to struggle against him to maintain as much autonomy as you could, or surrender?

The memory of how Alastor had held your face in his hand surfaced then. How his eyes had been heavy with a desire you couldn’t pinpoint, the way your skin burned under the pad of his thumb. How, somewhere under the fear and exhaustion, you had been thrilled watching him taste the blood off your face. Your chest was tight again, breath shallow as your fingertips ghosted over that spot on your cheek.

Fuck.

You wanted to rip your hair out, the desire to run after him growing stronger with every step you saw him taking towards the city battling against your own self-worth. You wouldn’t go after him of course, not only because it would be pathetic but you knew he would be disappointed and quite possibly repulsed if you did. Neither were things you wished to be associated with in his opinion of you or yourself. Though in this moment, all you could feel in regard to yourself was disgrace.

If someone had told you any of this a week ago, you would’ve balked at the idea. Actually wanting to please and follow Alastor around like a well-trained dog? Until quite recently you had looked forward to any time you could finally spend alone, but here you were, apparently counting the seconds until he returned home.

Get a fucking grip, you scolded yourself, inhaling deeply through your nose as you forced yourself to make your way back upstairs to change clothes.

Group activities would be starting in an hour, and it wouldn’t do any good to be fretting over whatever Alastor was up to. Above your pay grade, remember? Remembering what a snide bitch he could be soothed you, the irritation you felt towards his words from earlier reassuring. Though your meaning couldn’t be more different from his, you wanted to believe that you weren’t totally hopeless. The erratic heartbeat under your ribcage begged to differ.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor never imagined that he’d be sick of heading to Cannibal Town, but there was a first time for everything. It was a novelty he might have actually appreciated under different circumstances. Valentino aside, his days were beginning to feel a bit too repetitive for his liking. Perhaps this meeting could end up being a blessing in disguise, a way for him to defuse some of the restlessness he was feeling.

He had to admit, your absence was… noticeable. Not that you could ever take its place, but having the option to take your arm had been a nice substitute for his microphone when his hand was feeling empty. As if to taunt him, his fist clenched with a nervous twitch, reminding him there was nothing to do with it other than keep it behind his back. Irksome.

The way you lingered around him before his departure hadn’t gone unnoticed, either, something he was unsure you wanted him to know or not. Though there was nothing you could really hide from him, not anymore. Alastor was now very in tune with the way your scent changed based on how you were feeling. It had been particularly strong and floral today, to the point where it still burned his nostrils with a pleasant ache. A keepsake, of sorts. How generous.

Even without that, it was obvious you had wanted to join him on this excursion. There was a sincerity in your ever-pouty face that was actually quite endearing. Still not a fan of frowns, Alastor was beginning to understand that it was your mask, intentional or otherwise, just as the smile was his. His original goal to strip it from you would probably never come to fruition with this revelation and he sighed, though not from disappointment. It was nice to be kept on one’s toes, after all, and he had already made the decision to find new ways to provoke you.

That’s not to say that he didn’t still wish to see what was hiding underneath that gray cloud you took shelter under. The few breakthroughs he’d glimpsed so far had been delightful. Getting you to murder someone wouldn’t work… though that wasn’t off the table. He’d just prefer you to want it; force wasn’t a measure he was willing to take in that regard, there was no satisfaction to be found in it that way. And so by extension, was getting you to indulge in a new eating habit. He hadn’t given up on that, either; he wasn’t lying when he said he thought you’d enjoy it under the right circumstance.

Something came to mind and passed as quickly as it appeared, shocking him despite coming from some recess of his own imagination. The taste of blood was on his tongue from where he bit the inside of his own lip, and he relished the coppery tang, delight coating him thick as honey as he tentatively explored the thought. His ears twitched low as his horns grew just the smallest bit and he cleared his throat to calm down. Alastor wasn’t one to just lose his composure on the sidewalk.

Perhaps, he thought to himself, though with some hesitance. Alastor was always taken by surprise whenever his mind conjured up anything he considered to be salacious. But this sudden inspiration fell under same qualifications as his previous idea, if not under an even stricter sense. That was something you definitively needed to want, being it was something he very, very rarely desired to give.

And what was it about you that made him want to? Clearly, some small part of him did. Had it just been too long and you happened to be an option now that this feeling was rearing its ugly head again? No. Alastor was too… picky to just choose someone out of convenience. He was unashamed to admit he had standards when it came to this. In fact, he felt the real issue at hand was that too many sinners didn’t, fucking anything that breathed with abandon.

His pulse jumped at the word: fucking. Was that even what he wanted? It would be enough just to have you taste him, bite into the flesh of his wrist and lap away at the blood that eagerly pooled to the surface. If you earned it, of course. As mentioned, his body wasn’t something he offered up on a whim to just anyone. But the thought of you enjoying it, unraveling at the feeling he hoped to inspire in you, your sullen face relaxed in the throes of pleasure in the taboo. His mind was racing now, running away with the fantasy as it so often did in these uncommon moments.

What sounds could he illicit from you? He nearly bit through his tongue, thinking on the satisfaction it would bring to hear your voice, normally tinged with some level of sass, pleading and heady in his ears. How would you taste in his mouth — clean and tart, rich and sweet? What would you smell like, blooming under the touch of his mouth and hands?

It wasn’t prudent of him to get swept up in this daydream, knowing the caveat to any of it being your willingness to partake. And he’d sooner face Adam’s axe again than ask, at least not without the inclination of acquiescence, which at this point was unknown to him. Uncharted waters.

Alastor hadn’t noticed that there was a sizable diameter of empty space between him and any other demon who happened to be walking by; rightfully threatened by the hungry look in his eyes, the tautness of his fanged smile, and the static that was crackling in the air around him as he approached the dry cleaners.

Thankfully he still had a bit of time to kill before Valentino arrived, needing every second he could get to center himself before their meeting. Were it not for his gloves, his clawed fingers would’ve easily punctured the soft skin of his palms, he was so wound up. But it was invigorating, this little idea of his, already feeling the ache ebb away as he shelved it for safe keeping. Only time would tell when he could dust it off.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The afternoon had actually been… fun.

It had been a long time since you had experienced that, feeling a little ridiculous now as you lounged on your bed, thinking back on how nervous you had been to be roped into the daily activity with everyone. Charlie had obviously lead the charge, but the whole group had made you feel very welcome. Niffty had even sat next to you the entire time, her approval something you were unaware you were even wanting but now grateful to have. She was actually really charming.

Since it was your first time, it was mostly story-telling and introductions for your sake. It was clear they were a tight-knit bunch, and you found yourself hoping to find a place in their little circle. That seemed to be your theme for the day; seeing where you stand, fitting in. But it felt nice to open up, divulging bits and pieces of yourself to your housemates. You hadn’t realized how much you missed being part of a group, gossiping and sharing anecdotes.

You told them about the accounting job you had, well-paying but boring all the same, which you didn’t think you minded at the time. Looking back, it really was just for a paycheck. There was no passion in your heart for it, and it was downright mayhem during tax season. Vaggie joked that she would be keeping this in mind when the need arose for bookkeeping, with you quipping back about cruel and unusual punishment.

A knock at the door interrupted your reverie, and you got up to answer it, opening your door to Alastor’s smiling face. The brief moment of butterflies you felt faded when you noticed the tired look in his eyes. You weren’t sure what mood you were expecting him to come back in, but you knew he had something on his mind. Beyond fetching you to perform chores — which he rarely did anyway, preferring that you came to him — what else would he stop by your room for than to deliver some kind of news?

He swept over you, no doubt picking your outfit apart all the way down to your bare feet. You were well aware that the cardigan and slip dress didn’t exactly fit into his definition of put together. Frankly, you were surprised Alastor didn’t force you to wear a corset under your uniform, a complaint you wisely kept to yourself for fear of giving him ideas. But for this, you couldn’t bring yourself to care, relishing the sparse opportunities you had to be in your own comfortable clothes; the v-shaped neckline of the dress allowing your poor décolletage to get some much-needed air. Besides, what could he really say? You were technically off the clock.

“May I come in?” he asked with a jarring sobriety, the absence of his radio filter giving you a chill. This wouldn’t be like the tête-à-tête you had this morning on the balcony.

You simply moved out of the way, giving him the space to enter your room before closing the door behind you, keeping your attention on him as he stood with his back to you. Alastor’s shoulders moved as he took a breath, his expression concealed as his head fell back, looking to the ceiling as he exhaled.

He maintained this position as he spoke. “I’m afraid I must ask something of you, Sylvie. It won’t be dangerous, but it won’t be pleasant, either.”

There it was again, the illusion of choice. Why did he keep presenting things to you this way when he didn’t need to? Not that it upset you, it was a polite gesture after all, but well… He beckoned, you came running. Was it smart to be so willing to do his bidding? No. But after Angel talked a little about the way Valentino treats him — which he seemed to handle with a bravery you could only hope to have a portion of — you knew there was a level of safety that came with belonging to Alastor. Certain lines he simply wouldn’t cross out of duty to himself, resulting in a strange benevolence for you.

“What is it?” You were surprised at the calm in your voice.

Alastor seemed to be too, his ear flicking at the sound before finally turning to look at you. The soft expression on his face sent blood rushing to your cheeks. You could almost mistake it for pride. Toward you. A burden you weren’t prepared to handle, apparently. A small sigh escaped him as he closed the gap between you and he absently picked at the shoulder of your cardigan, pinching the soft fabric in his fingers as he worked through what he was going to say next. For your part, you just tried to keep your breathing even and your hands to yourself.

He released you, smirking without his usual venom but still with that strained look in his eye. The fraction of instinct you had that still worked told you that this wasn’t good, but you had a hard time letting that sink in the way it should, too distracted by the charge in the air between you.

“I met with Valentino today,” he said quietly, giving you a small, knowing smile as your brows knit together in concern. “He wants to meet you, in two days. As of right now that’s all it is but he’s reserved the right to make a final decision on what he wants once he speaks with you,” he practically choked on the words, anger nipping at the edge of his voice as he continued, “And there were certain… concessions that had to be made, given the circumstances. Proud as I am at what you did, I can also appreciate certain aspects of Valentino wanting reparation.”

You felt like a toddler being scolded for acting up in front of company, unable to stop yourself from looking away from him, embarrassment blending into your fear. He wasn’t wrong though, and you always had a feeling you would need to make up for what you did to Donny somehow. Meeting with Valentino was the least you could do, guilt already eating away at you for the position you had put Alastor in. No wonder he had been so upset last night…

“Will you be with me, at least?”

The question was out before you could stop it, the blush on your cheeks threatening to melt your face it was so hot with shame. Alastor huffed a laugh, the mischief returning to his eyes in a way that made you feel dizzy.

“I’m afraid I don’t elaborate on stupid questions.”

Maybe it was the low timbre of his voice, or the familiarity of his smug grin when he knew he had denied you something. But the irritation you typically felt when he spoke to you this way was nowhere to be found, your brain practically empty with the exception of one thing.

I’m so… fucked.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #slow burn #alastor slow burn #song fic #if i can't have love i want power #love and power #x reader #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #hazbin hotel slow burn #alastor x reader slow burn

172 notes · View notes

megalony · 8 months

Text

That's my Wife

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine based loosely on an Anon request. I hope you all like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefanthefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Masterlist

Summary: While Eddie is at work, (Y/n) takes Christopher to a birthday party. Things don't go as planned when she goes into early labour.

Enjoy.

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

"Now you know I can't go on the slides and stuff with you like daddy does, right?" (Y/n) grabbed Christopher's backpack from the footwell and slung it on her shoulder as she leaned against the door and looked down at her boy.

"Yeah. You take picture for daddy?"

"I will baby, don't worry."

When Chris held his arms out, (Y/n) rolled her eyes but obliged and looped her arms around his waist so he could hold onto her neck. He was so used to Eddie lifting him in and out of the car that he didn't dare jump down on his own and it meant that (Y/n), although eight months pregnant, also had to lift him and carry him around.

Something Eddie wouldn't approve of if he knew (Y/n) was still carrying Chris while she was pregnant, but he didn't need to know that.

She set him down on his feet and handed him his crutches before they started their short walk.

Chris had made a lot of friends in his new school and it was Adam's birthday party today. He was having his party at a play centre in town and he had very sweetly asked (Y/n) if Chris would be able to join and go round the centre. He wanted to include Chris but he wasn't sure if he did this sort of thing. It was something Chris loved to do, especially when his parents climbed into the play area with him and helped him down the slides or flop into the ball pit. But he could do this fine on his own as long as he knew (Y/n) was nearby.

Eddie would have been off shift and here too if Hen hadn't of gone off sick this week so Eddie picked up her shifts to help out. He knew once the baby was born he wouldn't be picking up any more extras for a while so it was worth it doing them all now to get the extra income.

(Y/n) rubbed her hand up and down Chris's shoulders as they walked into the reception and looked around for Adam and his mum.

She felt bad for Eddie, he had done a night shift straight into a day and when he got home tonight he was going to be dead on his feet.

"He's there mummy," Chris waved his crutch over towards where at least five tables had been pushed together for the parents to sit around. The drill was for the kids to run off and have a play for an hour or so, then they would sit down for food and cake and then another play before they went home.

"Let's go then,"

When they reached the table, (Y/n) put her and Chris's bags down on a free chair before she used the table as leverage to bend down on her knees in front of Chris. She silently held onto the crutches and he took the hint, letting her move them and he curled his arms around her neck and let his head fall on her shoulder. A big smile plastered to his lips.

He hadn't been anywhere like this in a while, probably not since before (Y/n) was pregnant. It had disrupted his day yesterday when Eddie had to sit him down and tell him he wouldn't be able to go and join him but because Chris knew he still got to go to the party, he wasn't too unsettled.

"Now you have fun and please be careful, do not go on the slides alone. If you need me to walk around and watch you just shout me, okay?"

"You come in too?" Chris nuzzled his face into (Y/n)'s neck until his glasses bumped and rubbed against her skin.

"I can't come in, I'm too big I'll get stuck."

"Mummy, please?"

"Baby, you know daddy will tell me off if I try. I can follow you round the outside though, are you gonna try go in with Adam first?" She could feel him laughing into her neck which was a good sign.

Part of (Y/n) worried that he wouldn't go in without her but she was hoping he would because he would have at least three other kids from school that he got along well with and Adam was glued to Chris. They would stay together so it wasn't as if Chris was totally alone in there.

If she wasn't pregnant or was less than six months, (Y/n) would be right in there with him going up the levels and waiting at the bottom of the slides for him. But Eddie had given her strict instructions before he left last night and he made her promise not to overdo herself and not to go down the slides or go too far if Chris asked her to. Chris didn't quite grasp that (Y/n) couldn't do as much with him while she was pregnant and it worried Eddie because he knew (Y/n) would give in and push herself to do stuff with Chris, it was endearing but worrying for Eddie.

"Okay,"

"Good boy, go have fun." (Y/n) pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek and helped him take off his shoes before she gave him a nudge and watched Adam wait patiently for him.

From where (Y/n) sat down at the table, she could see most of the large enclosed play area in front of them.

There were a lot of slides, three levels to climb up, tunnels to get lost in. Foam stairways to climb, ropes to swing from and rollers like a car wash to squeeze through which she knew Chris loved. He could do almost all of it but (Y/n) didn't want him going down the slides alone just to be safe. Eddie always did everything with him ever since Chris was a toddler and they went to places like this.

She didn't want Chris thinking he could do something alone and then getting stuck high up on a level or burning himself on the slide or not being able to get back down from somewhere. As long as he had one of his friends with him he would be alright.

"He's a good little climber, isn't he?" Andrea, Adam's mother leaned over the table to smile at (Y/n) and nod her head in the direction of the boys.

They could see all the kids drifting off in groups of two or three and Chris was with Adam and a young girl called Sasha. They were climbing up a set of foam stairs and Chris was laying on his stomach, using his arms to pull up and scuffing his feet on the steps to give him an extra boost. He wasn't good on stairs, that was where Eddie would usually carry him if they couldn't find a lift.

But this was different, this was somewhere Chris could let loose and mess around. He could crawl and shuffle and climb and no one would say anything or stare or laugh because all the kids didn't care what he did. He was here to have fun and that was what he was doing.

"He is, he's very determined."

"Is Eddie not coming?" Andrea did a quick sweep around but she couldn't see him among the throng of kids and adults all bustling about.

"He had to work, so I have to take a lot of pictures for him." (Y/n) had her phone in her jacket pocket and she was waiting until Chris got close enough or went down one of the slides so she could capture the moments. That way Eddie wouldn't feel so bad or feel like he missed out.

"That's good, he was telling me you're close to your due date now… he even remembered the exact date. He was very excited."

Andrea's brows quirked and her smile showed she was impressed while (Y/n) pursed her lips to stop from smiling. Either Eddie hadn't explained it very well or Andrea hadn't been listening properly but there was a clear miscommunication somewhere along those lines.

"Uh, no, we're having a C-section, it's booked in for four weeks from now."

"Oh, that does make more sense considering he was very certain about the day."

(Y/n) couldn't help but laugh. It showed how endearing and sweet Eddie was at heart. He would do anything for his family and when they had been expecting Chris, Eddie had been just the same. Excited, anxious, walking on egg shells. If it hadn't been for the rather traumatic birth everything would have been a lot easier and it would have been a perfect pregnancy.

Chris's birth had been anything but plain sailing and because of how badly (Y/n) had haemorrhaged and the complications she had afterwards, the doctors thought it would be best to have a C-section this time. Save the panic and calm all their nerves and ensure nothing went wrong.

They had the date all booked and Eddie had it circled in red pen on the kitchen calander. His last shift was two days before the birth and his Abuela would have Chris for them while they went to hospital. Eddie had three full weeks off work for after the birth if everything went according to plan and he was counting down the days.

When Andrea got up to go and get a drink from the bar, (Y/n) dug around in her jacket which was really Eddie's denim jacket, and found her phone. She needed to start taking some photos, Eddie had promised to show Buck the pictures and let him know how it went since Chris was attached to his 'Uncle Buck'.

"Mummy!"

With one hand on her stomach, (Y/n) got up and slowly trudged over towards the entrance to the play area and looked up. Chris was leaning against the mesh, pressing his face so close his nose was pushing through and his smile was slightly obscured but it made for a perfect picture.

"We off down the slide," Chris pointed towards the dark blue curved slide at the front corner and (Y/n) nodded.

She pressed record and tilted her phone up, following the boys as they padded across the foam mats. Chris was in fits of giggles when he went down on his stomach and shimmied under one of the foam rollers and (Y/n)'s face beamed as she watched him. Part of her worried if he got stuck, there was no way she would get up there to get him out but he did it with a big grin on his face that she got on camera.

When they reached the slide, Chris sat down first and Adam sat behind him and (Y/n) moved to the end of the slide and waited for them to come down.

"Well done baby!" She put her phone back in her pocket and reached down to lift him up by his underarms. She set him back on his feet with a kiss on his head but did her best to hide her wince when her back twinged. Maybe Eddie was right, lifting Chris and carrying him as well as the baby was a bit too much after a while.

***

"Chris, are you coming?"

"No."

A frown pulled at Adam's lips and he held his hand out to see if it would make Christopher feel a bit better but he still shook his head.

Chris brought his hands up to cover his ears and started to shake his head before he moved and flopped down to the floor with a thump and sat down. There were too many kids and adults at that table. He wasn't sitting there with everyone shouting and screaming and throwing things. He wasn't eating his dinner in front of that many people.

He was very particular, being in the classroom at school was fine because they had less than twenty children per class, it was more concentrated and people were spread out. Eating dinner was different too because the teachers gave Chris his own little corner in the dining room where he could sit alone with hi back to everyone and eat his dinner in peace. And sometimes if he was very unsettled, they let him eat in the classroom which was always empty at lunchtime.

The only people Chris would eat around were his parents or the team at Eddie's station because they were more like family. He didn't like eating in front of strangers or other kids at school, he always felt like they were watching him.

"Oh, (Y/n)…"

Turning her head, (Y/n) looked around before her eyes landed on Chris and she quickly got up, ignoring the dull throb in her lower back as she tried to hurry over to Chris.

"Mummy… mummy, don't want to,"

"Baby, it's alright, come here." She rubbed her hands up and down his arms and pulled him closer until he could bury his face in her chest and wrap his arms around her waist instead of holding his ears. "We don't have to sit with everyone, we brought a pack up anyway, didn't we? Don't get upset, they can find us a table out the way. No one will mind."

She slowly rubbed her hand up and down Chris's back and kissed the top of his head. He had been doing so well and she wanted to finish the day on a high, not a low.

She had made a pack up this morning before they arrived and told Andrea Chris wouldn't eat any of the food they served here. He was specific, there were only a few places he liked to eat out at and he wouldn't eat party food, only food that his parents bought. Bobby was the only exception, Chris loved his food.

"No, not hungry yet."

"Five more minutes of play, then pack up, okay? We want to watch Adam get his birthday cake, don't we?"

Chris nodded his head and tilted his head back enough to press his chin into (Y/n)'s chest so he could look up at her. If either of his parents smiled at him it was an instant calming mechanism for Chris, he knew he wasn't in trouble and that it was okay for him to have a little panic.

"Come on then." A little longer playing would calm Chris down but (Y/n) didn't want him playing too long because he needed a rest and he needed to eat. They had to eat soon so they would be in time to see Adam get his cake and sing happy birthday to him.

He pulled back and let her lift him up to his feet before he grabbed her hand and held her arm to his chest when they started to walk.

The pair of them walked through the entrance and (Y/n) waited patiently for Chris to decide what he wanted to do. He knew he had to stay close enough for (Y/n) to walk beside him at the bottom, she couldn't climb up with him and she didn't want him wandering around on his own.

(Y/n) could see Chris had a frown on his face, he was still unsure about going back to eat with everyone. They were all being loud, throwing food and squabbling together, it was a sensory overload. At least in the play area all the kids bypassed him and didn't stay so close they were shouting in his ear.

Her eyes followed her boy closely as he shuffled up the steps and she took slow steps below him as he slowly shuffled along a rope before he looked down at her.

"Slide,"

"Okay, go along then baby."

"You meet me at the bottom," (Y/n) craned her head to see where the bottom of the red slide was but she frowned when she realised it was in the middle of the ball pit. She knew Chris wouldn't go down that slide unless she was waiting for him, he liked the ball pits but he couldn't get out of them properly.

"I'll wait at the side of the ball pit."

"No! Mummy you wait at the side."

"Baby-"

"Mummy!" Chris dropped to his knees and dig his fingers into the mesh rope protecting him from falling. He started to lean back and forth and swing on it as his frown deepened. He was getting unsettled, if Eddie were here it would be a lot easier.

"Do I have to call daddy and uncle Buck?" (Y/n) put her hands on her hips and straightened her back for a second before she leaned back down when her stomach cramped. She watched Chris start to whine her name over and over until she sighed and walked towards the ball pit.

It was going to be easier to go along with Chris than try and coax him to a different slide or go down it without her at the bottom. And ringing Eddie would only upset Chris further because it would mean he was in trouble.

If she got Eddie on the phone he would give Chris the stern talk, tell him he had to listen to his mum and if he couldn't then Eddie would have to come down there and sort him out.

(Y/n) walked over to the ball pit and peeked in before she sighed. At least Eddie wasn't here to see her doing this. The opening into the ball pit was a small oval gap in the mesh and (Y/n) had to sit down on the foam wall, carefully swing her legs over and then lower herself down. It didn't do her back any good to wade through the plastic balls that felt like a sea overtaking her and pulling her down.

"Chris, come down baby."

It was a relief to hear him giggling and banging the walls when he shuffled down the slide. She reached her arm out so that when he came out the slide, he could grab her hand and pull himself over to her.

He smacked his arms out and flung some of the plastic balls away from them and started to kick his legs like he was swimming and it was a relief to (Y/n) to see him finally settle and smile again. She knew getting him out of here was going to be the problem though. He had been playing for over an hour and now he was tired and needed food but he didn't want to be with everyone else. She might end up taking him home.

"A-are we going…" (Y/n) trailed off and turned her head to the side so Chris couldn't see her grimace when her stomach tightened. "Dinner time," She managed to grumble out before she turned and grabbed the foam edge to steady herself.

"Not yet mummy."

"Ooh no…"

Fuck. Not yet, not without Eddie!

Her water broke. In the ball pit. In the play centre. With Chris right next to her.

This was not part of the plan. The plan was all laid out and simple and agreeable, Chris was going to have a movie night with them the night before and then he would be up ready and early to go stay with Abeula. Eddie would be with (Y/n) right by her side and they would have this baby different to last time.

(Y/n) didn't want to go through labour again, she wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready for the panic and the blood and the complications and screaming out to hold her baby while Eddie pinned her to the bed when she tried to snatch Chris from the midwife. She didn't want to watch Eddie blur before her eyes and fall into his arms when her heartrate started to drop and she started to bleed again.

Fumbling in her pocket, (Y/n) shakily grabbed her phone and scanned down for Eddie's contact. He said he would try and keep his phone on him in case she needed to call today, he would do his best like he always did.

No answer.

"Eddie, baby c-call me… my water broke, fuck, call me back please." Her voice barely raised above a trembling whisper son she didn't scare Chris.

"(Y/n), there you are, we're going to cut the cake soon, would Chris like to have some?" Andrea bent down on the other side of the mesh and smiled at the pair of them but her smile faded quickly when (Y/n) looked up and she saw the tears on her face.

"My water broke,"

"Oh god… let me tell someone and we'll get you out-"

"No. No I- I'm not moving until I c-can get hold of Eddie…" (Y/n) braced her elbows on the foam edge and clenched her hands together to try and think. She wasn't able to move very far now and she couldn't go anywhere without Eddie. That wasn't an option. "Can you tell t-them to keep kids away from here, until he comes, please?"

She couldn't move but she couldn't have any other kids coming down the slide and messing about in here when she was like this. It wasn't safe nor conventional and Chris was settled, (Y/n) couldn't risk him having a meltdown or getting upset right now when she couldn't get hold of Eddie.

"Of course, I'll go now and they can section this bit off I would think."

(Y/n) managed a feeble thank you before she felt Chris grabbing her arm and tugging gently so she would look at him.

"Okay?" He asked quietly, smiling despite knowing there was something amiss with her.

"Just a bad back baby, daddy will c-come soon and get us. We need to stay in here for now."

She felt her heart calm just a little when Chris started to giggle and clap, he wanted to see Eddie. He thought Eddie would play with him once he got here but (Y/n) would let him think that and deal with the consequences later, as long as it kept him calm and happy.

As soon as Chris shuffled a little bit away from her to dive back into the middle of the pit, (Y/n) picked her phone back up. When Eddie's phone went to voicemail for a second time, she changed to dial 911. They could get hold of him, they would have to because (Y/n) wouldn't let anyone else near her unless they were in the 118 team.

"I- I need help, I'm in the Cromwell play centre a-and my waters broke… I can't move I'm in the ball pit."

"Can you tell me your name and roughly how far along you are? Paramedics are being dispatched to your location."

"No, I need you t-to get…" (Y/n) bowed her head on her forearm and groaned through a contraction. This wasn't fair. "Get the one-eighteen fire station team dispatched here, now. My husband is one of the firemen, Eddie Diaz, I need him here."

***

"Okay everyone, we have a woman in pre-term labour stuck in the ball pit, dispatcher said she was very anxious."

Eddie's heart dropped to the pit of his stomach when he climbed down out the truck and realised where they had parked. He could never make sense of the speakers when a call got announced and Bobby was the one who got the main details of their calls, the rest of them were told on the journey or when they got here like right now.

The play centre. Specifically the one where (Y/n) had brought Chris for a friend's party. Eddie could see her car parked up front and unless it was a very big coincidence that this was the same place his wife was at who wasn't at her due date yet, Eddie couldn't imagine it being anyone else. He knew (Y/n) would be panicking if it was her, she had been over the moon when they said she could have a C-section to reduce any risks.

The plans had changed if this was his wife.

"Mate, what's up?" Buck patted Eddie on the shoulder when he saw he wasn't moving and looked rather pale but Eddie stumbled over to Bobby in a frenzy.

"Cap, cap I think it's my wife. Fuck, if it's (Y/n) Christopher will be here!"

Eddie barely managed to tangle his fingers in his hair before he waved towards Buck and set off into a sprint. He had to calm himself down, he had to find out if this was his family or not and if it wasn't he could breathe deeply and be relieved that their plan could still go ahead.

He could hear Buck close behind him when he rampaged through the doors and towards the reception where one of the staff was waiting for them.

"She's this way,"

They took off in a sprint after the young girl but Eddie could feel his heart rocketing up into his throat, constricting his breathing when he saw Andrea bent down in the path beside the ball pit on the left. It had to be (Y/n) because he could see the utter relief in her eyes when she clocked eyes with him.

"Eddie! (Y/n), love, he's here now." She waved him over and got to her feet, patting his shoulder before she took a step back. Andrea knew (Y/n) had begrudged anyone walking down here to see what was going on, she didn't even want the staff coming to ask if she needed anything.

"Fuck, mi amor it's me I'm here I'm here."

He crouched down to look in and assess the situation but he didn't like what he saw. (Y/n)'s lower half was submerged in the plastic, her arms were folded over on the foam edge and her forehead had been pushed into her arms until she heard his voice. When she rose her head, her face was flushed, covered in sweat and tears and she was breathing in short huffs.

This brought back too many memories for Eddie. He thought they would get peace of mind with this pregnancy, no scares, no frantic worries about labour, no Eddie screaming at the doctor to help his wife and tell him what was wrong with his newborn son.

Before they were told they could have a C-section, Eddie had cradled (Y/n) in his arms one night when she started to cry, worrying what would happen if history repeated itself again.

"Daddy!" His head tilted up and a small creased smile pulled at his lips when he noticed Chris was sat on the foam edge next to (Y/n). He was patting her hair away from her face and kicking his legs out into the sea of plastic.

"Hey bud. We're coming in,"

He rounded the side and leaned forward to climb through the gap and drop down into the ball pit with Buck following behind. Bobby rounded to be in front of the mesh near (Y/n) for reassurance and Chimney waited near the exit to the ball pit for help when they tried to get her out.

"How we doing?" Eddie gritted his teeth as he waded through towards (Y/n), he had done this countless times with Chris but it never felt slower to get through than it did right now.

"You're here! I can't d-do this, we need the hospital," She felt his hands on her shoulders and the light kiss he pressed to her neck.

She knew calling 911 would get him here if he couldn't answer the phone and here he was, right when she needed him. (Y/n) didn't want to do this, she didn't want to be stuck here. She had thought about pre-term labour and she wished that if it happened she would be home with Eddie and still be able to get the C-section. There was no way that was happening now, it was far too late but she wanted to be at the hospital in the very least.

If she started bleeding out there wasn't much the team could do for her and Chris was here, (Y/n) didn't want her baby boy here to see her in pain.

She was just relieved he didn't understand what was happening.

"I'm here, you're fine, we've got this. Chris, bud are you gonna go and stay with Chimney so me and uncle Buck can get mummy out of here?"

"You here to play?" His head tilted to the side and he picked up one of the balls and started to pat it and tap it against his knees. He was assuming someone would get (Y/n) out and then he could play with his dad, he thought Eddie was here to play with him. And it was an added extra that Buck was here too.

"No buddy, no more play."

"Play!"

Chris dropped the ball and went to cross his arms over his chest, the smile slipping from his face when he saw his dad's stern expression. This wasn't the plan, something odd and strange wasn't supposed to happen and Eddie was always supposed to come here and play with him. He didn't want this to go a different way.

"You are not in charge, I am and daddy says you are going to wait with Chimney. Off you go."

There was no time for Chris to argue, Eddie picked him up and turned round to Buck who happily grabbed him and waded over towards the exit where Chimney was waiting with a smile for the little boy. Chris couldn't argue with Eddie and if he tried, Eddie would tell Chimney to put him in a time out. As long as Chris was out the way but cared for and safe, Eddie could keep his focus on (Y/n) and neither of them had to worry about him witnessing anything or hearing anything he shouldn't.

"Do you want to tell me why you're in the ball pit when I specifically told you to take it easy and not follow Chris into the play zone?"

(Y/n) reached her hand out and curled her fingers tightly around Eddie's hand when she felt him press up to her side. His lips smothered the top of her head and his free hand moved to her lower back and when she tilted her head back to look up at him, she tried to smile despite the guilt written across her face.

"He wouldn't come down unless I w-was in here," She could feel his hand tense on her lower back and he shook his head.

"These kids are gonna be the death of me." He muttered quietly while Buck came over to stand on (Y/n)'s other side. "Do you think you can shuffle out of here?"

She nodded, she would do anything to try and get to the hospital, she didn't care what she had to do. (Y/n) would crawl or swim through this stupid ball pit if it got her to a hospital.

"Good girl, Buck you go in front and I'll stay behind,"

"Come on (Y/n), you got this. I'm so pumped to meet my nephew." Buck held his arms out steady and let (Y/n) dig her nails into his lower arms when she turned round. He didn't think he would be around when she had the baby, Buck thought he would be either working and keeping his phone on him ready or he thought he might be looking after Chris. He had offered to take Chris on the evening after the C-section so Eddie could stay with (Y/n).

This turned out more in Buck's favour so he could actually be here when his Godchild was born. And he was so sure it was going to be another boy. The team had placed a few bets on the gender.

Rolling his eyes, Eddie kept his hands on (Y/n)'s hips and stayed close behind her. She leaned forward and pressed her head into Buck's chest and arched her back out. The three of them made a slow shuffle through the ball pit towards Bobby who moved so he was waiting near the exit for them in case they needed another set of hands.

"You ready?" Eddie whispered in her ear when Buck let go of her hands for a moment so he could climb out and stand next to Bobby.

"This won't be graceful,"

Eddie smiled despite himself and shook his head, at least she could make some light of the situation.

"Lean back into me, I'll lift you up."

(Y/n) nodded but kept her eyes tightly closed, she didn't like this one bit. She didn't like anyone but Eddie seeing her in a situation like this when there wasn't a lot of dignity left. As if her friends, Eddie's close friends and coworkers had to see her like this.

She felt Buck and Bobby take one of her hands each and grip her elbows and she let her legs go floppy so her weight was pushed back onto Eddie's chest. He had carried her around hundreds of times even while she was pregnant so she knew she wasn't putting any strain on him but it didn't feel right to do this in public.

She could feel his hands squeeze her hips before they travelled down her bum to grip the back of her thighs and it was comforting when she felt his face tuck into the crook of her neck. He kissed the junction of her shoulder and neck before he slowly lifted up her legs and pushed forward so she was sitting on the ledge. All she had to do was let them ease her forward and she would be out.

"Here we go, steady we got you," Bobby and Buck took her weight and helped her slide down onto her feet but as soon as her feet hit the floor, her knees caved.

(Y/n) coiled her arms to her stomach and dropped down to her knees, leaning forward to push her head into the floor as a horrid groaning scream left her lips morphed with Eddie's name.

"Hospital… w-we need to go- fuck, Eddie!"

"We have to see how far you are before we think about moving you (Y/n), let's get you sat down."

"No, I-" She stopped when she felt Eddie's hands on her waist and he slowly reeled her back up.

"Mi amor, I'm not risking moving you anywhere until we know what this baby is doing. You're safe, we're all here and Cap knows what he's doing." Eddie moved back a little and sank down on his knees before he carefully pulled (Y/n) with him and leaned her backwards. She relaxed in his hold and let herself sink into his firm chest while his arms coiled around her waist so she could grip his arms.

"Buck, grab the medic bag, I'm just gonna have a quick look, okay?" Bobby took off his overcoat and placed it over (Y/n)'s knees that were hunched up. There was no one around but he wanted her to have some sort of dignity.

He knew what everyone was praying for, they all wanted (Y/n) to be one or two centimetres dilated so they could get her in the ambulance and ship her to the maternity ward and have this baby in a hospital. But when Bobby looked up and saw (Y/n) crying out with her hand reached back and clawing at Eddie's shoulder, he wasn't so sure that was the outcome they were going to receive.

(Y/n) didn't have the will to care that Bobby was about to see a more intimate side to her. She didn't care that her leggings and underwear were now around her ankles, she just wanted to go.

"(Y/n)… I'm afraid you're already crowning, this will be the first kid born in a play centre so we need to get you set up." Bobby hid his frown when (Y/n) screamed and Edie tightened his arms around her when she started to sob and her chest heaved. This wasn't fair, but at least the team had gotten here at the right time. She had everyone surrounding her, they would look after her and make sure she and the baby were okay.

"Wow, really?" Buck knelt back down and put the medic bag next to Bobby but when he leaned to look, he found Eddie's hand in his chest shoving him back and (Y/n)'s leg move out towards him.

He was their closest friend, but (Y/n) didn't want him looking until the baby was born. It wasn't exactly an intimate thing the couple wanted to share.

"What-"

"That's my wife!"

"Buck keep a check on (Y/n)'s vitals. Miss, we need towels over here please. (Y/n) I'm sure you know what to do, push on the next contraction."

Buck moved to (Y/n)'s other side and made quick work of checking her blood pressure and he didn't make a face when she clenched his hand in hers and gave a sharp squeeze.

As if she was having her second baby here of all places.

"Fuck! A-am I bleeding?" All of them could hear the panic in (Y/n)'s voice and she tipped her head back on Eddie's shoulder to look up at him with terror in her eyes. She barely managed to crown with Chris before she was bleeding and as soon as he was born after getting stuck, that's when the blood flowed.

Whimpers and sobs bubbled past her lips and she pushed back into Eddie as if she wanted to disappear but he held her tighter and moved his legs so he was sat down instead of kneeling which was making his legs ache. He pulled his knees up and pressed his thighs tightly into (Y/n)'s sides, just like they had been sat when she had Chris.

"You're perfectly fine (Y/n), I promise. Just keep going you're doing great."

"Almost there mi amor, I've got you and cap's got the baby, we're all good. Come on you got this." Eddie whispered in the shell of her ear and tilted his head down a little more when (Y/n) reached her free hand up to cup the back of his neck. A shiver rocketed down his spine when her nails scratched against his skin and the hairs at the back of his neck and he kissed her head when she turned to bury her face in his chest.

His shirt smothered her scream and they both prayed Chris was far away enough not to hear what was going on.

"Head's out, one more push (Y/n)," Bobby grabbed one of the towels from the pile the lady shakily dropped down next to him. He spread it out over his lap and grabbed another one to hold beneath the baby, she was almost done.

"I love you so much," Eddie leaned over (Y/n)'s shoulder and he felt his heart jump into his mouth as he held his breath when she screamed into his chest.

"It's a girl!"

"You've done it mi amor, you've done it."

The brightest smile (Y/n) had ever seen lit up Eddie's face and she could feel his tears falling down onto her skin. Her head felt fuzzy and her body was trembling in his arms which he was soaking up and he held her so tightly she felt comforted and protected.

"Fuck (Y/n), well done! You've lost me the bet though," Buck rubbed his hand up and down her arm, smiling brightly as he looked across at Bobby. He gently let go of (Y/n)'s hand, seeing her grab Eddie's arm for reassurance before Buck grabbed the clamps and cutters from the bag to hand across to Bobby.

"Here's your daughter," Bobby carefully placed the small bundle into (Y/n)'s shaking arms and laid her on her chest.

She trembled so much Eddie had to move his arms and coil them around hers with his hands resting on top of (Y/n)'s to keep their daughter stable on her chest. Eddie brushed a finger across the newborn's cheek and despite the chuckle he let out, he moved to kiss (Y/n)'s cheek repeatedly. This wasn't how they were expecting to have their daughter, but it had gone much better than Chris's untimely birth.

"S-she's here," (Y/n) brushed her nose against Eddie's cheek and kissed him shakily.

"She couldn't wait to meet us."

#eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz x reader #eddie x reader #imagines #pregnant! reader #pregnancy #evan buckley #bobby nash #911 imagine #911 fox #911

787 notes · View notes

superluver · 10 months

Text

Happy Hands G.S.

Pairing: teen!Gojo Satoru x teenFEM!Reader

wc: 1154 | cw: CURSING, shoko smoking, Satoru being super annoying, reader beats up satoru, fem!reader, reader has the patience of a philosopher, crackfic, vomiting, NOT PROOFREAD PER USUAL 😋😋

Description: Satoru is annoying the living shit out of you, so you beat him up

(Someone submit something for me to write 😔)

“DUH DUH DUH DUHHHHH,” you make the beat of the song in front of the two.

Shoko stares at you with furrowed eyebrows, thinking hard. Chewing her cigarette, she waves her hand.

“Wait- wait, do it again.”

“Like everyone knows this song!— Or at least the person that made this song." You shout at her. Suguru snaps his fingers, your heart skips a beat, someone finally got it—

“Happy birthday.” He says with full confidence, then leans back in his seat with a smile. What he doesn’t expect is for you to punch his desk, causing it to explode. The wood scatters around the room like a mini bomb went off.

The screeches of his chair sliding on the ground fill the room as he backs from you.

“It was obviously Michael Jackson.” A voice from the door rolls his eyes. Satoru, in all his glory. He goes to sit down beside Shoko, but you kick his seat before he could take a seat.

“You weren’t playing.” You tell him dryly.

Shoko feels shivers crawl up her back. It’s not that you’re stronger than Gojo. No way, in combat he would 100% win. But, it’s just that your family is known to break infinity.

Cursed hands, family born with seals on their hands. Much like the inumaki clan, the (l/n) clan their own powerful seal.

“(N/n)?! Are you still mad at me, seriously?!” He pouts, dragging his seat back to his desk.

You clench your fists, staring down at him but not saying anything.

Shoko thinks three punches, and it’ll go down. Suguru thinks one if he can rile you up real good: One to break, another for the punch.

That’s what he was trying to do anyway. Yesterday, Satoru put cockroaches in your closet to get you angry enough to destroy his infinity because you refused to reason with him at 10:00 in the evening. But you didn’t get mad at him. No, mad wouldn’t even describe how you were feeling.

It was pure rage.

But you didn’t take it out on him. Instead, you went into Shoko’s room to sleep.

“(Y/nnnnn)!” The annoyance whines, holding his desk from the other side and batting his eyelashes at you.

“Suguru, pick a number, one, two, or three?” You ask him sweetly.

“Uh, three?”

You nod, clenching your fists before sucking in. Satoru screams, ducking as you wind up your fists, the room shaking with crazy wind. “Three punches it is—”

The seal on your hand glows as Satoru puts up infinity, covering his face. Shoko is standing beside Suguru, squinting as your fist nears the six eyes' precious face.

Yaga though, with his impeccable timing, comes in, placing one of his dolls to catch the punch. It ends up exploding into smithereens, and Yaga, though clearly distraught, sighs.

You glare at Satoru one last time before kicking his chair’s leg, hoping he would fall, then taking your seat beside him.

“Anyone want to tell me what was happening here?”

The three glare at Satoru, who smiles innocently. Raising his hand up in the air, “I was brutally assaulted by (Y/N) senseiiii!”

“I didn’t even touch you.”

“You put cockroaches in her closet.”

“I think you deserved it,” Suguru finishes off the complaints, smiling sweetly as his friend is put in hot water.

Yaga furrows his eyebrows, rubbing the corners of his eyes as he tiredly groans. “It’s too early to deal with the four of you—”

“It’s only one of us, sensei!” You chirp, trying to be polite, but Satoru can see your glare at him through your kind face.

Yaga sighs before turning to the board, with chalk in his hand, he begins the lesson of the day.

“How boooring!” You stretch, making your way to tree where the four of you— yes, including Satoru— would be eating lunch.

Shoko passes you a mason jar to open for her, and you take it.

It shatters in your hold.

You blink, feeling the liquid fall over your hands. “Oh shit, she’s still mad at youuu!” Suguru teases, causing Satoru to nudge him aggressively.

“I’m fine,” You hold your hand out to Shoko once more, “Hand me another one.”

Hesitantly, she digs in the basket, taking another mason jar and shakily giving it to you. By the time all your fingerpads got on it, it, once again, shattered in your hold.

“Okay now what the fuck.”

“You’re doing it on purpose.” Satoru tells her smugly.

He’s trying to rile you up, and it’s working. Now, he really didn’t tamper with the mason jars, that was alllll you, but now he’s taking advantage of the situation. He can tell it’s working from the vein that’d popping out from your jaw.

He noticed it happened a lot when you clenched your jaw too much.

“One more time.” You ask, and Shoko— who really doesn’t want to give it to you— glances at Suguru, who just shrugs.

“C’mon on guys, last time. Promise.”

Now that didn’t sound so good. Whatever you were planning definitely had something to do with Satoru.

Shoko, scared it would explode on her, threw it to you. And, surprisingly this time, it didn’t burst.

“Heh, would you look at—”

It exploded again, but not in your hands. On Satoru’s infinity.

You threw it straight for his head, luckily he unconsciously put up infinity after feeling your anger.

“What the- OOF!”

Not only did you break his infinity on the first punch, but it made contact with his skin. He gasped, rolling away from the impact with a still cocky laugh.

You huffed, and surprisingly he still had the energy to talk.

“That was noth— BLEGHH”

“EW SATORU!” Suguru shouts, immediately standing up and watching as his best friend hack and gag away in the grass on his hands and knees from a distance.

Shoko grimaces, watching as you stand up, stomping over in his direction, kicking the living shit out of him.

“I should kill you right now.” You say coldly, stomping on him

“Ow! Suguru, Shoko! Help me!” He says, yelping as you continue to assault him.

They glance away, whistling to themselves because, suddenly, the sky looks super interesting.

When you’re done, you plop beside him, and he’s grinning at you, somehow.

You’re huffing, exhausted.

“Don’t do that again.”

“Got it.” He murmurs, holding his stomach in agony.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, so could you—”

“Count sheep, Satoru.” You sigh, patting his head warmly, almost guiltily before standing up, walking off back towards the school. Shoko snapping numerous photos of a beaten up Satoru in the grass.

“Heh, I am so gonna print those out.” She chuckles, trailing behind your huffing figure.

They all leave him alone in the grass, and finally he can relax with a sigh.

No one can really see hearts behind his covered eyes, and thank god for that.

Thank you guys for the support on ‘What was in the bag’, I really appreciate it 🙏🙏 I feel like i should make a master list but like I don’t really say anything on here other than stories so I guess there’s no need for that now. BUT ANYWAYS, SOMEONE ANYONE SUBMIT ME SOMETHING TO WRITE I’LL DO IT I SWEAR 🙏🙏😞

541 notes · View notes

cam3lliaw · 1 month

Text

Tell me

• Megumi Fushiguro x gn!reader

• wc ~1k words

• a bit of angst but mainly fluff

• warnings: mentions of wounds(not detailed), mentions of wincing, lying, slight trust issues mentioned, i think that's all

A/N : not really proofread, but i had fun writing this after my hiatus :))

An angry knock could’ve been heard from all across the dark hallway.

Megumi didn’t need to get up from the laying position he was in, on the bed, to know that the person on the other side of his door was no one other than you, his partner, and it was even easier for him to guess, from the way you were knocking, that you were not happy at all.

“Megumi, open the door.” your voice could be heard from the hallway.

Megumi. Not ‘Gumi, not darling, not babe, not love, not other pet name or silly nickname you could ever come up with, because if there is someone in this world that could invent the cheesiest appellatives to ever exist, it was you. Ever since you two started dating, there were very few instances in which you called the boy by his given name, two to be more exact, when you were teasing him and when you were upset at him and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that unfortunately for him, right now it’s not the first one.

He tried to get up as quietly as possible without wincing from the wound that he got, not even half a day ago, while he was on a mission with Yuji. The boy walked to the bathroom and turned on the water in the shower.

“In the shower.” he announced standing close to the door hoping that you’ll hear and leave him alone for a little while more.

“Yeah, yeah sure and I am the heir of the Gojo clan.” you said in a monotone tone before continuing: “I know you are not in fact in the shower, unfortunately for you, I wasn’t born yesterday Megumi, I heard you shuffling in the room a second ago, not to mention that if you were, in fact, showering you wouldn’t have heard me so clearly as you seem to have heard. Don’t lie to me and come open the door.”

He hesitated mentally face palming himself. Megumi doesn’t even know why he bothered lying, you paid an incredible amount of attention when you actually wanted to. And yet he didn’t move from his spot on the bathroom floor.

A minute passed, then two and if he didn’t know any better he’d say you got the hint and left. But he does know better, he knows you better-

“Please.” your voice was quiet but he heard it all too clearly. And hesitation or whatever held him back be damned, because Megumi knew. He was well aware that if you said please he’d do anything you asked him to without hesitating one bit.

He turned off the water and got out of the bathroom. A part of him was still hesitant as he walked to the door but he knew he can’t avoid you any longer at this point.

Megumi opened the door and you entered, arms crossed looking him up and down.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” you asked looking straight at your lover.

“I don’t.” he said a bit hesitant.

If there was something Megumi didn’t like to do, it was to lie to you. He knew you didn’t like being lied to either, but he believes that this time it’s for the greater good, which would include you not finding out about his recent wound. But he has this glooming feeling in the pit of his stomach that you somehow already found out.

You breathed a sigh.

“Okay. I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that, so I am going to ask you again, okay? Megumi” you took a step forward towards your boyfriend. “do you have something you want to tell me?”

You knew. You definitely knew. There was no way you didn’t know at this point. But still, he had to try denying it once more.

“I don’t have anything that I want to tell you.” he said, avoiding your gaze, a thing that he kept doing unintentionally since you got into the room.

He was a bad liar. At least, that was the case when it came to you. That’s something the both of you could agree on.

“Why do I have to find out from Yuji that you got hurt?” you decided to say it already to his face since he clearly showed no signs of telling you himself.

“…listen [name]-“ he started but you interrupted him.

“No! I don’t want to listen, I gave you the change to talk, not once but twice mind you, and you said that you didn’t have anything that you wanted to tell me so I’ll do the talking.” you took a deep breath and continued “you know I don’t like to be lied to Megumi, you know it and yet you still go and do it. I don’t understand it, you always want to know when I get hurt on missions, why shouldn’t I know when you’re the one who gets hurt? I thought you said you trusted me. Did that not include telling me if you get hurt? Did I ever make you feel like you can’t be vulnerable around me?”

“[name] you know that’s not the case-”

“Then why? Why do you hide stuff like that from me? And if you start saying some shit like “you didn’t want to worry me” I’m leaving this room right now because we both know I will worry about you no matter what you say to me-”

Megumi took a step forward and closed the distance between the two of you by gently grabbing your face and kissing you. The kiss wasn’t long by any means, but it felt more sincere than any words Megumi could say at the moment.

There was a short silence afterwards as you two stared into each other’s eyes. You knew he was sorry. That’s one of the things you prided yourself with, reading Megumi better than anyone else ever did and yet, you couldn’t help but want more. You didn’t want to be able to read him as much as you wanted him to tell you all of those things himself, to talk to you.

“I am sorry.” he apologized looking into your eyes.

“I know that.”

“You’re right, I should tell you this stuff. I promise I’ll never hide this kind of things from you ever again.” he added as his hand went to caress your cheek.

“I’m glad you finally agree with me.” you smiled as you leaned into his hand.

Megumi took your hand and gently pulled you to his bed. You two cuddled and ended up falling asleep in each other’s arms.

A/N : i hope you liked it :))

#jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you

149 notes · View notes

palskippah · 6 months

Text

🌟How does Toadsworth react to Mario's pregnancy?🌟

I'm thinking that Toadsworth goes through a wide arrange of emotions when he's told, because:

His baby girl is going to become a mother (father's happiness, he's going to be a grandfather!)

His baby isn't a baby any longer [father anguish, she grew up too fast! (never mind that she's thirty-one now)]

His baby isn't married to the man she's going to have a baby with (father's wrath? Maybe he's old-fashioned like that and thinks that they should do the whole thing correctly!)

Overall, he's very happy, and congratulates both Mario and Peach eagerly, and goes on and on about how the experience of parenthood can be wonderful and has a lot of many great moments. How he remembers when Peach was a baby and how happy it makes him to see her grow and become the woman she is now- until he stops and realizes that Mario and Peach are going to have a baby.

And goes: "Wait, a baby? And you're not even married!"

Mario and Peach look at each other briefly, while Toadsworth frets about it and says that they must get married as soon as possible, before the baby is born. But Mario and Peach actually planned to get pregnant, and say so to Toadsworth, and they have no intention on marrying sooner because of that.

So, he's like, "But princess! The baby will not be a princess or prince if you don't marry by the time they're born!"

"They'll be royalty either way if we marry later," says Peach smiling, trying to take the seriousness out of the matter. Because she really, really doesn't want to get married yet*. "If we marry now, I'm certain I will not enjoy it, Toadsworth, and that's the least I want for the day I marry the man I love."

Mario's like respectfully listening and all, and goes 🥰 for a second at her words, and then serious again.

Toadsworth's like :c but still accepts that she wants to take her time on that matter. He sighs resignedly and shakes his head while Peach is clearly waiting for his answer on it, unsubtly worried (something silly like her with them big ol' eyes looking directly at him).

Finally, he says, "You're very set on your ideas, princess... But I think that's on me, I raised you like this." His words have a nice tone to it because he's smiling and looking at Peach fondly. She sighs relieved, and smiles brightly too, and leans down to hug her father again. She's glad he's comprehensive about it.

Eventually, Toadsworth gets over the fact that Mario and Peach are merely boyfriend and girlfriend and have no intention on marrying soon. Although, it does take him a very long time to come to terms with the fact that his baby is going to have her own babies, when just yesterday it seemed that she was too small for her crown.

Almost through all of Mario's pregnancy Toadsworth has these moments where he's nostalgic and remembering when Peach was younger. He's very happy for them, and hopes the babies have a likeness to Peach (they'll be the cutest babies if that were the case!)

Also, Toadsworth has a respectful relationship with Mario, because he's the man that always looks out for his daughter and also he's earned Toadsworth's respect through all his actions. Mario also has him in high regard due to the fact that he's Peach's father figure, and he's never given him a reason not to.

But Toadsworth still very, but very rarely asks to feel the babies, and Mario doesn't mind one bit about it (especially because he asks very nicely and Mario never feels like he can't say no), but the old toad is still a bit hesitant about it. He mostly does it when the babies are very big already and can easily be felt if you place a hand on Mario's belly.

Toadsworth mostly has conversations with Peach about the babies, when Peach asks for stories or advice on parenting. He gladly goes on long monologues (like the old man he is-) about his experiences while raising her, while Peach listens attentively.

And when the babies are born, he's best grandpa and gladly takes care of the girls whenever he can.

Nettarina and Mariella may look like two mini Marios, but they remind him very much of when Peach was a baby. He takes them on walks in Peach's stroller, talks to them about his day, and also reads them stories. Sometimes he gets emotional about how similar yet different it is from back then :'v

*Peach doesn't want to get married to Mario yet, and it has to do with Bowser's kidnappings. Maybe I'll do a post where it's more explained :y and also where it shows when they do get married, years later when the girls are older.

#super mario bros #mareach #my art #mario mario #princess peach #toadsworth #text #mareach fankid #mareach family au #mareach preg #thanks to the person that sent the ask!#i will do the next asks similarly sjjss #mareach preggy stuff #fankid

216 notes · View notes

anisespice · 1 year

Note

How about walking around in booty shorts to get your man’s attention❤️❤️

you got it, anon! thank you so much for your patience and for requesting !! i took wayyyyy too long to do this lol wasn't sure who you wanted for this, so i figured i'd just make it into an "insert who you want" kind of scenario. hope you enjoy :))

pairing: various x fem!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI. talks about posteriors (lol), suggestive themes, and i think that's all.

notes: been sick these past few days, so had to put a hold on the next part of "the fuck it list" :((( but hopefully i'll have it up sometime tomorrow, didn't want to leave you guys high and dry sooo !! hope you enjoy ♡♡♡

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐬 ∵ The ones who are caught completely by surprise, needing to do a double-take at them double-stacks attached to your spine to make sure his eyes were playing tricks. You didn’t normally wear them around the house, at least not without a big shirt that usually covered everything, so clearly you were baiting him for something; and consider him hooked. It didn't matter what he was doing before you walked into the room, consider it DROPPED + IGORNERED + NONEXISTENT. On the game with the guys? Dropped. Typing up a work email? Ignored. Watching a show? Nonexistent. Won't put his hands on you right away, his mama raised him better than that, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But he will side-eye tf out your ass until you eventually have to say something—He looked like he was finna pass out if you didn’t.

"You know you’re allowed to touch me, right?"

"Thank FUCK, I thought you were gonna torture me forever - please come over here now please, thank you.”

TAKEMICHI, kakucho, chifuyu, angry, SHINICHIRO, kazutora, kyotani, kenma, aran, kageyama, deku, kirishima, tamaki, twice, [insert anyone you want ].

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 ∵ DOWN BAD AND PROUD OF IT. Utterly shameless, eyes waste no time honing in on your ass the second you walk past him, indulging his intrusive thoughts by giving you a light smack on that thang just to watch it jiggle. Wearing a shit-eating grin when you turn to playfully glare at him; he fucking knows you love it. Doesn't even care if y'all got company either, I mean shittt - you didn't when you decided to walk around with them shorts on. Absolutely will follow you around, feel you up and everything, homie cannot keep his hands to himself to save his life. Not his fault you look so damn tempting, he just couldn't resist. Good luck trying to get anything done now, and prepare to be absolutely SICK of him. You wanted his attention, you got it.

"Oh my goddd, boy, leave me aloneee."

"Nah, don’t get shy on me now, babe. Nowhere close to being done with you."

SANZU, hanma, rindou, RAN, smiley, baji, mikey, MATTSUN, maki, tanaka, nishinoya, SUNA, ATSUMU, HINATA, bokuto, sero, denki, mirio, HAWKS, [insert anyone you want ].

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝-𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 ∵ Won't look like he's phased at all, you could be walking around in your underwear and he won't break a sweat. Honestly, he'll have you feeling stupid at first, thinking you weren't as irresistible as you thought. Fret not you sexy thing, that's just how it appeared on the outside. On the inside tho, that man was having some rather... depraved thoughts. He wasn't born yesterday, he knew you were trying to get a rise outta him, but he really needed to focus on his work right now. But, don't worry...once he's done, he got something for that ass later.

"You didn't think I was gonna let your little stunt slide, did you?"

kokonoi, WAKASA, izana, draken, MITSUYA, ushijima, KITA, daichi, kuroo, iwaizumi, akaashi, osamu, sugawara, oikawa, TODOROKI, bakugou, shinshou, shigaraki, dabi, [ insert anyone you want ].

#🍁wasabi #🍁allspice #tr #tokyorev #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revenegers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyorev smut #hq #hq headcanons #hq scenarios #hq smut #hq x reader #mha #mha scenarios #mha headcanons #mha x reader #mha smut

553 notes · View notes

halfghostwriter · 1 year

Text

Wraith Radio Pt. 2

Part 1

“You’re listening to Wraith Radio, your number one link to the living realm. I’m your host, the wandering ghost, Ellie Phantom. It’s day two of my adventure in Gotham City, and I gotta say, today was… wild. Bit of context for those who missed the start of yesterday’s show, long story short, I publicly told the Red Hood that I would wait for him at this place called Park Row so I could take him to a doctor in the ghost zone because his body is bad.

After I ended the show, I got this call from my cousin, Danny. He and his friends back in Amity had been listening, and they think that, because I never showed off any of my powers or anything, and cause I look like any other human, he might not have actually believed I was a ghost. Which, fair, I guess.

So now I’m thinking, ‘well, no big deal, I can just show him my ghost form.’ Buuuuut then I remember the stupid amount of curses and stuff all around this city, and as part of the ghost population who technically never experienced death— no, that time I melted does not count— I’d like to prolong that experience for as long as possible if you don’t mind. Where was I? Oh right, so now I’m thinking, ‘well, no problem, I can just open up a portal, bring him to the zone, and transform there.’ Quick, simple, no problem.

So we come to today. I’m at the meeting spot, it’s five minutes to the meeting time, and I’m sitting on the edge of this rooftop, keeping an eye out for the arrival of the Red Hood.

And then a building blows up.

Right across the street, the top floor of this sketchy run down place I had been staring at, just. Boom! And then I hear all these gunshots, and screaming, and I look down at my watch, and I have about four minutes before noon, so I turn invisible, float over, and poke my head through the wall. Right there, center of the room, I see Batman, Robin, Red Robin, and Red Hood fighting this… I dunno, skinny twink with like a burlap sack over his head? Look, it took me a week to memorize the Gotham vigilante’s names and costumes alone, I wasn’t going out of my way to look up their entire rogues gallery. But anyway, they’re fighting this guy and a bunch of people who I assume are working for this guy, and I see some people tied up in the corner screaming their heads off for no clear reason. I mean, yes, I know it’s scary being tied up by an evil scarecrow of a man, but when I say screaming, I don’t mean ‘please, save me, I’m in distress’ screaming, I mean ‘the soulshredder just sliced through me and now I’m seeing my worst fears manifested in front of my eyes’ screaming.

So I get a little closer, I land on the floor, and just, to go off on a bit of a tangent for a second, the Gotham vigilantes are just. So much taller than me. I felt so incredibly tiny being in the same room as them. Like, yeah, I know I’m short, but I had hoped that I would at least be the same height as Robin, but no. I swear, every time I stand next to someone who’s supposed to be close to my ‘physical’ age, I become more and more convinced that the billionaire who made me had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He brought me to life and was like ‘you’re a twelve year old!’ and I was like ‘you’re right!’ because I had no frame of reference because I was born that morning. Anyway, so I get closer to the screeching humans being held against their will, and I feel this scratchy, almost burning feeling in the back of my throat. I try to brush it off, but then I look down, and I see my body fucking melting.

Now this isn’t be my first time melting, so my first thought isn’t ‘oh god I’m gonna go from half to full ghost,’ or even ‘ugh this shit again,’ but rather ‘why the fuck doesn’t this hurt?’ Because I know exactly what melting is supposed to feel like, and it isn’t a feeling you can just ignore. Like, I can’t really describe it to someone who’s never had every muscle in their body suddenly coalesce into one, with every attached nerve ending screaming louder than a heavy metal band, but trust me when I say that the “pain” I was feeling was barely anything compared to actually melting, like it felt more like my skin was itchy than anything. So, I try poking one of the places where my body is melting— don’t ask me why, I don’t really know why I did it— and instead of feeling ectoplasm drip over my hands, I just feel… my arm. And I realize, ‘oh, not only is this just an illusion, it’s a shitty one.’ Or, y’know, at the very least one that doesn’t work too well on a halfa.

So I shake that off, cause yeah, I don’t like seeing myself melt again, but as long as it’s not actually happening again, I’m good. Plus, if it does start again, I do still have my extra ecto dejectos in my bag, and yes, Danny, I will call you if it actually happens, sorry if I almost gave you a heart attack a few minutes ago. Anyway, I turn back to all the tied up screaming people, and I notice these, like, fog-machine-looking-thing next to all of them, and I get closer to one, and the scratchy feeling at the back of my throat gets worse, so now I’m thinking ‘oh, this must be what’s causing everyone to see things.’ So I turn my arm intangible, stick it into this machine, and I pull out this bottle of just… the worst smelling chemicals I’ve ever been near, which is saying a lot for someone born and raised in a basement lab. But, it stops the fog machine, so I plug it with some stuff from my bag, and pocket it so I can’t smell it anymore. I keep doing this to each of the nearby machines, and eventually the front pocket of my bag is just completely stuffed with gross chemicals.

So that’s over with, and I look over to see if the fight’s done, but no, they’re all still going at it, which means I still can’t talk to Red Hood and get him to the Zone, so I figure I have some time to kill. And I remember that there’s, like, ten or so people tied up against their will, so I start freeing all of them. Obviously, the ropes themselves are really easy, all I really need to do is phase them off. The people, on the other hand, are crazy hard to get to actually do anything other than scream. Like, I try pushing people towards the exit, I try dragging them across the floor, anything to get them to leave the building which is— in case you forgot— on fire. I mean it’s just the top floor, but I’ve heard from Ember that a fire anywhere in the house could be the cause of a human’s death, especially if no one’s watching it, and I doubt that anyone is actually watching that fire.

So now I’m kinda panicking, cause I was hoping the fight would be over by now and all these people would have been brought outside, but not only is the fight not over, I look over and see the bad guy throw these cans over at the people, and I realize that they’re giving off the exact same poison-fog as the machines from earlier. And I’m just. So pissed off. Like, I just took care of that!! For all I knew, that illusion stuff could’ve worn off in a few minutes, and I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping all these people alive!!

Side note— Danny. I get it now. I get the whole ‘desperate need to protect any and all humans’ feeling you were talking about.

They are just… so easy to put into danger.

Holy shit.

Anyway, I’m feeling that whole ‘selfless anger on behalf of strangers’ thing for the first time, and I think it turns my brain off, cause I just pick up the cans and throw them at the bad guys head while yelling ‘FUCK YOU, DIPSHIT!’

And my invisibility drops.

So.

Not my best decision.

But not my worst, because my aim was perfect.

I’m pretty sure I knocked him unconscious, but I’ll be honest I wasn’t really paying attention to that guy anymore because I had just revealed one of my abilities— not to mention I think my eyes were glowing— in front of the fucking Batman. Now, I don’t know if the rumors about him hating metas are true, but I do know that most humans fucking hate ghosts, that I definitely don’t know what he thinks I am, and that I’m not risking my ass to find out. So, invisibility goes back up, and I start to book it before I remember that the whole fucking reason I showed up was to help out Red Hood. So I take a flyer, write “sorry, try again tomorrow?” on the back, and then I get the fuck out.

I wind up flying so fast back to this little hideout I’m staying at that I guess I wound up jostling some things in my bag? Yeah, by the time I get back, I feel this… leaking through my bag. And I take it off, so I can check out the damage, and uh…

Ok, so remember how I mentioned those ecto dejectos I keep on me? Well, I tend to keep them in the front pocket. And the scary-illusion-liquid-stuff was also put in the front pocket. And one of the bottles and an ecto-dejecto hit each other just a bit too hard. And apparently. When these two things are combined. You get… a blob ghost. Who only knows how to melt.

I’ve named him Goop, and he’s the most pathetic creature I’ve seen in my life. He just melts until all of his body is liquid, then it all just blorps back together. He’s solid for like a second, then he starts to melt again. Also he keeps trying to drink the scary-illusion-liquid. I’ve been holding him in my lap this entire time, and while he’s not hard to stop, I do still need to sleep, so if anyone has any advice on how to handle a mutant blob ghost, I’m all ears. Also, if theres any specific way to get rid of mysterious chemicals that honestly shouldn’t exist, please tell me, otherwise I’m just gonna find a sink and dump it.

Anyway, that’s enough about my day, onto things I’ve heard about the city…”

————————

The batfam stared silently at the glowing radio that Jason had brought.

And an unspoken agreement was reached.

Meta, ghost, whatever— this was a child with absolutely no adult supervision, severe trauma, an unknown set of powers, and a ridiculous amount of fear toxin. Not to mention something that she described to be a “mutant blob ghost.”

It was time to do a bit of research into the kid.

Or, it would, were it not for the fact that “Wraith Radio” didn’t seem to exist online, nor did “Ellie Phantom.” It was also likely she used a fake name for her show, since there didn’t seem to be any records of an “Ellie Phantom” anywhere.

Of course, that wasn’t enough to deter them. After all, she herself had mentioned her family.

And so, they began looking into Amity and her cousin, Danny.

#danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp #danielle phantom #wraith radio

281 notes · View notes

the-lonelybarricade · 1 year

Text

My Kingdom Come Undone - (1/3)

Summary: There weren’t many ways Elain was allowed to want. Most things were decided for her, every path laid down before she’d even been born, where she was simply expected to follow. Lucien, with his cunning eyes and smart mouth, was something that no one had chosen for her. And even if she could never have him, that couldn’t stop Elain from wanting him. Desperately.

An Elucien Royal Guard x Princess AU for @elainweekofficial's Day 3: Blood and Water prompt.

CW: Explicit content, eventual non-graphic violence.

Read on AO3

“Elain—”

Elain quickly turned her head to deliver a sharp hush between her teeth, pushing a single finger to her lips.

As was typical of any man, the Lord ignored her in favor of hearing his own voice. He whispered, “Do you know where—”

“Shhh!”

The sound was made harsher by her irritation, and it wasn’t lost on her that the shushing was louder than the whisper itself. But Elain had planned this all so carefully, and she wasn’t about to let Graysen ruin it by being a clumsy fool who had always been given what he wanted, so he’d never needed to hone his stealth. She had chosen this path through the garden purposefully, so that the soft moss swallowed each of their footsteps, and the thick canopy obscured them from the guard tower in the stone turrets just above.

She parted the vines of a large weeping willow, where yesterday she had already brought over a blanket folded neatly into a woven basket. Graysen watched, a smile creeping over his face, as she laid it over the dirt and primly climbed atop it.

“Well,” she said, flipping a lock of curls over her shoulder, hoping to expose more of the decolletage from the dress that she had also selected with purpose. “Are you going to join me?”

Elain could track the exact moment where all thoughts vacated his mind, and soon Graysen was kneeling between her legs on the blanket, bracketing her body with his.

“Everyone told me that you’re a proper lady,” he said, clearly having a difficult time moving his eyes away from the swell of her breasts. They trailed up, slowly, to her lips. He smiled like a man in a stupor. “I’m beginning to think they have not known you the way I do.”

“Perhaps you are a bad influence,” she said, breathlessly. His lips were getting closer, reminding Elain that for all her exuded confidence, she had not actually done this before, nor did she have any intention to.

“I would be honored to influence you further.”

Graysen’s hand was clammy and Elain did her best not to recoil when he pressed it against her shoulder, following the slope upwards, past her fluttering pulse, so that he could cradle his fingers beneath her neck. She was beginning to think she had not planned this carefully, afterall.

“Your highness.”

Oh thank the gods, she thought, ignoring Graysen’s frantic scramble off her body as light flooded the dim space. They both turned to its source—to the man who stood at the edge of the willow, an arm held aloft to part its vines. Sunlight shafted past his shoulders, gilding his silhouette like he were forcing them to bear witness to his magnificence. Though, there was nothing magnificent about his face. At least not presently. Where Lucien’s face was usually lovely, now it was set into a harsh, disapproving frown.

His russet and gold eyes flicked between Elain and Graysen. They settled on Graysen, who was shriveling beneath that gaze with none of the bravado he had assumed when he snuck out with Elain in the first place. It was the scar, Elain thought. The way it slashed through Lucien’s brow and the corner of his lip made his frown look all the more menacing.

“Lord Graysen,” Lucien said, voice flat. She noticed his free arm shift, so that his long, elegant fingers rested on the hilt of his golden sword. A tad too threatening for a guard addressing his charge and her company. “Your father is looking for you. Something about a scandal and a hushed pregnancy with a scullery maid. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Cheeks growing redder by the second, Graysen mumbled an apology as he pushed his way out of the privacy of the willow tree. Leaving Elain, ever so briefly, in the company of Lucien Vanserra. His jaw was clenched, accentuating the muscle in his cheek. Elain knew he thought he looked very intimidating when he stared at her like that. And she would pretend it was shame that made her cheeks heat, so that he would never stop doing it.

“You didn’t need to embarrass him.”

Lucien snorted. “He did that without my interference.”

“Well,” she said, feigning obstinance as she laid back on the blanket. “It’s a shame you came all this way to interrupt us, because I intend to lounge beneath the willow whether the lord is in my company or not.”

With a long suffering sigh, Lucien ducked into the willow, letting the vines fall shut behind him. “Sounds like we have a lovely day ahead of us, then.” His voice was snide, like he was doing the opposite of what she wanted when he lowered himself to the ground.

Elain supposed, in a way, he was. She would have preferred if he sat on the blanket.

“I’m not stupid,” he added. Elain held her breath, nervous at what he put together, until he said, “I know the second I leave, you’ll slip right through those gates to sneak back into the village.”

“Hmmm, you caught me.”

Elain kept her voice elusive, knowing her unspoken satisfaction would cause him to stir. Because he hadn’t sniffed out her intentions—not even close. He still thought she had been sneaking out of the castle because she wanted to giggle and toss her hair at the pretty man who worked the counter at the confectioners shop. Lucien had been the one to barge in and drag her home, then, too.

It bothered her, a little, that he was so clueless. When she knew that he was clever and that she wasn’t exactly trying to be subtle. Making grand plans with dull lords for the chance to get a small, private moment alone with him. Sneaking out of the castle because she knew it meant he was the one who would need to chase her down. And yet he was tipping his head back against the great stump of the willow, finding the back of his eyelids far more interesting than the precious time he was made to spend alone in the company of the princess.

Elain knew Lucien hadn’t wanted this job. Not that he’d ever told her as much. He didn’t need to. With the exasperated way he conducted himself whenever she so much as blinked in his direction, it was obvious he resented his position at her side. What she didn’t know was why, when being a member of the royal guard was considered one of the highest positions for a knight.

“The confectioner, at least, has a skillset,” he noted, eyes still closed. Elain was grateful, because it allowed her to freely study his face. Even in the shade of the willow, Lucien seemed to glow from within—a copper fire that lived beneath his warm brown skin, so that he looked perpetually flushed with life. She thought if she could get close enough, she would be able to feel the heat of it, but Lucien always kept a careful distance between them. “And he could keep his sightline above your chest.”

She admittedly hadn’t liked that about Graysen, either.

“Perhaps I should visit him tomorrow.”

Nothing, not a flicker of movement on Lucien’s face to indicate that he cared.

Elain added, “I’m certain he has no affairs with a scullery maid.”

“That you know of.”

“He makes lovely apple tarts,” she tried, desperate for him to at least open his eyes and look at the low sweep of her neckline that she had selected specifically for him. He had once offhandedly mentioned that he found the lace trim appealing. Elain had even tugged it, slightly, so that if he did open his eyes, he would see the way the bodice pushed the tops of her breasts up, giving the illusion of cleavage.

“That he does,” Lucien hummed.

“Maybe we can share one.”

He opened his eyes, then. One after the other—dark russet, then gold. But they didn’t waver from her face, not even for a moment. The Queen’s guards were well trained. Though Elain had been often told she was beautiful, she wondered if Lucien even noticed.

Both scarlet brows raised to his hairline. “I’m included in this excursion, am I?”

“You’ll find a way to include yourself, regardless.” She sighed heavily. “You are incapable of turning a blind eye for even a second.”

“That’s my job,” he said dryly.

“To see that I’ll never be kissed?” She cried, like she wasn’t grateful every time Lucien interrupted.

He shook his head, causing his long red hair to fall over his shoulders. Today, half of it had been braided and tied into a knot at the back of his head, so that not an inch of his beautiful features were obscured. “It would be my head on the chopping block, if I let Graysen do to you what he did to that maid. Your mother has made it very clear who you’re forbidden from consorting with.”

“I don’t care what my mother thinks,” Elain grumbled.

“I do,” Lucien said. He pressed a hand to his throat. It was meant to be a dramatic gesture, but all Elain could think about was how much she wished to feel it wrapped around her throat instead. “I prefer my head attached to my body.”

“Well.” Elain crossed her arms, pushing her breasts up even further and still—still—Lucien’s expression remained neutral, his eyes trained on her face. “You’re not doing yourself any favors for the day I become Queen.”

“The Mother help us all.”

Elain scoffed. “I’m putting you first on the executioner’s block. For crimes against my patience.”

“Just as well,” he said, a smile playing at the corners of his full lips “That I will never be in a position to try you for similar crimes.”

She knew that she was an utter fool, to be insulted by a man and still feel butterflies in her stomach because he said it with a smile. It ought to have been offensive, and yet she wanted to giggle. She opted for grabbing a clump of dirt and chucking it at his shoes, instead.

“Treason,” she accused.

“Honesty,” he corrected, brushing the dirt off his polished boots.

It was like nothing she did could faze him. She wondered why she tried so hard, when it was clear he was uninterested and even if he was, there was nothing either of them would be able to do about it. Lucien hadn’t been lying, when he had said the Queen would have his head. Her mother was focused on finding Elain a suitable match to be the future King Consort, and a royal guard was several times removed from those plans.

But there weren’t many ways Elain was allowed to want. Most things were decided for her, every path laid down before she’d even been born, where she was simply expected to follow. Lucien, with his cunning eyes and smart mouth, was something that no one had chosen for her. And even if she could never have him, that couldn’t stop Elain from wanting him. Desperately.

Elain flopped onto her back, feeling the solid earth beneath the blanket. What would it be like, to be a flower with its roots stretching firmly into the earth, always grounded, never wondering what it was and what it wasn’t.

“Lucien?”

He had shut his eyes again, but this time she did not mind if he kept them shut. She admired the way his features relaxed when he wasn’t scowling—a rare sight, when they were together.

“Yes, your highness?”

“You owe me a kiss.”

“Pardon?”

A small peek over her shoulder saw that Lucien had sat up straighter, his brows drawn together. She would feel pleased she drew a reaction out of him, if it wasn’t clear he was disturbed at the prospect of kissing her.

“You interrupted me with the confectioner, which made me resort to sneaking away with Graysen.” She let some of her distaste show, wanting him to know that kissing Graysen truly hadn’t been a favorable option to her. A last resort that he had pushed her to. “And then you interrupted that, too.”

“I believe, princess, that your mother would have disapproved if you kissed the confectioner or the lord. I was acting in her name.”

Lucien loved to remind her, frequently, that he was not hers to command. It was her mother he reported to and Elain knew she constantly walked a fragile line of disobeying Lucien just enough so that she could steal these precious moments, but so that he wouldn’t be removed as her guard entirely.

“If my mother had her way,” Elain said, tasting each bitter word on her tongue, “I would remain chaste until the day she married me off to some man I’ve never met. I just want something that’s mine, Lucien. Something I’ve chosen for myself, that she won’t be able to take away from me. A kiss seems innocent enough.”

There was a moment of silence. She did not often speak this plainly with him, and she knew he was likely assessing this new information, trying to decide how best a knight should respond to his charge without betraying his loyalty to her mother. Ever calculating, ever dutiful. “Lord Graysen was intending to do more than kiss you,” he said, finally. There was an edge to his voice she found curious.

“I know.” Elain had not known about the maid, though, and she might have reconsidered if she had. “But I have the most annoying guard you’ve ever met, and I knew he would stop us before it got much further than that.”

“And if I had been late?” Lucien growled, fury twisting his once lovely features. “If I had been held up for whatever reason, and hadn’t been there to stop it from progressing beyond a simple kiss?”

Elain sat up, gaping at her guard. He had never used this tone with her before. She had seen him irritated, certainly, but never angry. Never at her.

“I knew you would come,” she said, simply. It had never crossed her mind that he wouldn’t—he always did. She had known it with more conviction than she had known where the sun would rise in the sky.

Lucien was still seething. It dripped into his voice, lacing its deep, honeyed warmth with gravel. “It was foolish to gamble with your body—“

“You weren’t this angry before!” Elain protested, feeling the backs of her eyes begin to sting.“You hadn’t seemed the least bothered when you saw him on top of me.”

“I had thought you wanted it!”

He stood, suddenly, pacing in the small space. Sunlight dappled through the willow vines, shifting across his uniform as he moved.

Elain suddenly felt angry, too. “Maybe if you stopped confining me, I wouldn’t be forced to take such drastic measures.”

“I am not the one confining you!” He snapped. His chest was rising and falling with rapid pace and his hands, though not rested on his sword, were clenched into fists. “I am keeping you safe. That is my only job. If you want to let some lordling fuck you in the dirt, be my guest. I will not be responsible for what your mother chooses to do in retaliation.”

Her lower lip began to tremble and Elain sank her teeth down in an effort to make it still. Lucien paused, his expression softening as he read her face.

“Elain—“

“I’ve had enough of the gardens for today,” she said, coldly. She pushed past the drapes of the willow tree, cringing against the sunny day they’d been evading. “I’m certain my mother is looking for me and she will be grateful that her most loyal guard has delivered me to her.”

It was unsurprising when Lucien stepped in front of her. So much taller that he was always catching up to her with burdensome ease. His posture had gone rigid, as unfeeling as his voice as he intoned, “This way, your highness.”

No longer her Lucien. Just any other guard, doing his duty and nothing more.

“Prince Koschei would make a fine match,” The Queen declared. She balanced a porcelain teacup delicately between pinched fingers, its saucer poised in her wrinkled hand below. The Queen raised it only midway to her mouth, never drinking, simply posturing like she might. Elain did not think the Queen was capable of enjoying tea. Of enjoying anything, short of her daughter’s misery.

“Prince Koschei is thirty years my senior,” Elain said, carefully. “Surely there are other, more appropriate matches—“

She was cut off by the clatter of porcelain as the Queen set the teacup and saucer down, hard, on the rich mahogany table.

“None so advantageous,” her mother said, sharply. “We’ve long had tenuous relations with our northern neighbors. An alliance through marriage could unite our peoples, promote growth for both our kingdoms—“

“And would he be content as a consort?” Elain interrupted, slamming her tea onto the table, too. It rattled in the saucer, causing the guards in the corner of the room to flinch.

But not Lucien. He stared straight ahead, eyes so distant she thought he likely wasn’t even listening to a word being said.

“It sounds more as though our Kingdom would simply be swallowed by another Rask monarch, merging as part of their territory.”

“Petulant child, you know nothing of which you speak,” the Queen said, crystal eyes narrowed. Besides her fair complexion, Elain shared little else with her mother. Her brown eyes came from her father, kind and warm in a way the castle had not known since his passing. And the golden brown hair tumbling in curls down her back had been passed down from him, as well. Not her mother’s straight platinum that, accompanied with her cool eyes and stern, narrow face, made her look better suited to rule a kingdom of ice than their warm, sea-faring lands.

“What about Prince Tarquin?” Elain asked, recalling the one time she had met him. He had seemed kind, more appropriate for her age, his claim to his own throne distant enough that she did not see him as someone vying for power. He would make a tolerable husband.

Her mother ignored her, pushing on. “Prince Koschei will be arriving tomorrow with a delegation from Rask. Perhaps meeting him will soften your opinions.” She met Elain’s eyes across the table, daring her to challenge. “If by the end of the week you have won his affections, we can begin discussing wedding preparations.”

Wedding preparations.

The tea curdled in her stomach, making Elain suddenly feel nauseous. She pushed from her chair, ignoring her mothers protests as she stumbled quickly out of the room. Elain had only the presence of mind to feel the wooden doors part beneath her palms, how the marble bit into her knees as she fell to the floor and puked into a potted plant.

A warm hand pressed into the center of her back, rubbing soothing circles as another gently lifted the hair from her face. Her mother, Elain thought, surprised to be comforted. But when she turned her head she glimpsed brown skin and scarlet hair and that turned another bout of nausea in her stomach.

Lucien was watching her puke. It was humiliating, but she supposed it didn’t matter now. She would likely be married against her will by the end of the week. Would he even still be her guard by then? The Prince would probably bring his own, insist his wife be policed by men he trusted, asserting his power when she was meant to be the reigning monarch.

When her stomach was emptied and Elain was left, gasping, her fingers grappling uselessly against the marble for something to hold onto, something to keep her upright, Lucien was there. Tugging her into his arms, lifting her from the floor. She was vaguely aware of being carried up the stairs, but was much more distracted by the feeling of being pressed against Lucien’s broad chest. He was warm, like she suspected, and he smelled like leather and metal and firewood. Not able to resist, she pressed her face against his throat, taking each breath greedily.

“Are you okay?” He murmured.

No—and yes. The yes was temporary. It would end the moment he set her down.

“That depends,” she said, shutting her eyes so she could listen intently to his pulse. Elain had estimated he was a man who was always steady, his every breath measured. But his pulse was beating wildly, too. “Can I hire you out as an assassin?”

He laughed, but the sound was humorless. “I don’t expect I’m skilled enough to assassinate a Raskan prince, not with all the men that would be guarding him.”

Elain bunched the fabric of his uniform beneath her fists, crushing the royal crest he bore above his heart. “What about me?” She whispered, only half joking. “You could do it in my sleep. I could go to bed peacefully, knowing I will not need to confront what tomorrow brings.”

“I could never lay a hand on you,” Lucien said, shutting his eyes like that confession pained him. “I have sworn an oath to the mother goddess that I would sooner die in pursuit of your safety.”

They were nearly to her room now, and the thought of Lucien setting her down was unbearable. She slung an arm around his shoulder, burrowing her face against the warmth of his neck. If she shut her eyes, if she willed this moment last, maybe she could stretch those next seconds into eternity.

One, two, three steps, where time passed the same as any other. Then they were through her bedroom door, and another few steps saw them standing above her bed. Her arms tightened around Lucien’s neck, the closest she would allow herself to begging not to be let go.

“Elain,” he said, gently. She liked it so much better than your highness.

It was the tremor in her arms that made her realize she was crying. That Lucien had said her name because he could feel it, wet against his neck. She thought he would pry her off of him, with that same cold distance he normally applied to their exchanges. But when Lucien saw that she wouldn’t detach of her own volition, he sat on the bed instead, cradling her to his chest. The gentleness shocked her, as did the hands that slid into her hair, lending comforting strokes while he held her.

He didn’t speak, and maybe it was the silence that mortified her because eventually she croaked, “I don’t want to marry him. I really would rather die.”

“And who would take the throne?” He asked, softly. “You have a duty to your people.”

“I’ll poison him, then,” she said. “I’ll slip it into his drink on our wedding night.”

“Now there’s something I finally would turn a blind eye to.”

Elain knew he was saying that only for her benefit, and she couldn’t resist a smile, which she hid against his chest.

Fingers still stroking her hair, Lucien said, “I’m not worried for you. Do you want to know why?”

She could hear the rumble of his voice in the back of his throat. Elain thought she would never be able to hear Lucien speak again, without thinking of how it felt to be pressed against him, to feel his breath at her temple, and those exquisite fingers curling against her scalp.

“Why?”

“Because you are clever, and so insufferably stubborn that I don’t think there’s a force on this earth that could bend your spirit.”

That was what finally coaxed her arm away from his neck, if only so she could pull away to glimpse his face. His eyes were burning, just like they had been beneath the willow when they were arguing. Glowing forges of copper and gold that made Elain swallow past the thickness in her throat. He was enraged, but not at her.

Her grip on his tunic loosened, releasing the now crumpled royal crest. She pushed her fingers out, stretching the fabric until her palm laid flat against his solid chest. His heartbeat reached up to greet her, reminding her with every improbable beat that she was in Lucien Vanserra’s lap, touching him. And from the way his eyes briefly shuttered beneath her too curious palm, she thought maybe he didn’t mind as much as he had always pretended.

“Thank you,” Elain said. It was little more than a whisper, but she felt as if she screamed it, for the way it scraped past her throat. She blinked, wetting her cheeks with the tears still clumped on her lashes. “For carrying me up the stairs, and for reminding me that I won’t be facing this completely alone.”

Lucien’s hand reached up, catching the few stray tears with his thumb. She could feel the scrape of his calluses—a texture she had never imagined when she thought of Lucien touching her face, yet all the more welcome for it. It made the moment feel more real, more tangible.

“It’s my job, your highness.” She could have wept again, that he’d defaulted back to her title, but he was still stroking her face. And he made up for it when he added, “So long as I am alive, you will never face anything alone.”

When he spoke like that, the temptation was simply too strong to resist. Elain caught his hand, so much larger and warmer than her own. She squeezed his fingers, leaning her face all the more into his caress. Elain shut her eyes, trying to memorize the feeling of his skin against her own. When she was lying with her husband and he was touching her, she wanted to retreat to this moment, pretend it was Lucien holding her.

She had almost worked up the courage to ask him to stay, so that she would have more than the memory of his hand against her face to draw from. But Lucien only allowed her to savor the intimacy a moment more, before he dropped his hands and lifted her off his lap.

“I’ll go fetch a maid to draw you a calming bath,” he said, with more stiffness than she would have liked. At his side, he was clenching and unclenching his fingers. Like he was trying to chase away the sensation of holding her.

Elain wracked her brain for something to say that could convince him not to leave, but Lucien was already striding toward the door. Leaving her with little more than the burning memory in her palms.

Soon the maids arrived, corralling Elain into a bath, and she didn’t see Lucien again for the rest of the day. At least, not in person. She saw him in her thoughts, occupying her mind while she let her body take control of her motor function. Breathing, eating, trying to make tentative peace with her mother at dinner. It was all colored by the unnamed emotion in Lucien’s eyes when he had swept his thumb against her cheek. It was much easier to think about him, and his callused hands, than the cruel Prince Koschei who would be arriving tomorrow with the intention of courtship.

So it was Lucien she tried to think about as she went to bed that evening, promising she wouldn’t be alone to face what awaited her. But even the phantom beat of Lucien’s steady heart wasn’t enough to keep back her anxieties. Try as she might to shut her eyes and imagine she was tucked against Lucien’s chest, sleep evaded her. Every time her consciousness started to drift, her mind conjured the face of a man more than twice her age, sharing this very bed with her.

Elain jolted upwards, pushing away the blankets that had become smothering against her damp skin. She was gasping, suddenly desperate for fresh air. Wearing only her nightgown, Elain climbed out of bed to follow the ribbon of moonlight that leaked in through the gap in the velvet drapes. She pulled the thick fabric aside, revealing the balcony doors and the bright stars that waited for her on the other side of the glass.

The handle was cool to the touch—startling against her sweaty palm, but a welcome reprieve. She pushed the door open, immediately greeted by a rush of night air that caressed her flushed skin, already doing wonders in calming her uneven pulse. Elain shut her eyes, trying to slow her breathing, to draw strength from the unyielding night sky.

“Your highness?”

She snapped her eyes open, whirling to see Lucien standing on her balcony. He was still wearing his uniform, the crest above his heart wrinkled from her earlier assault. He bore his golden sword at his hip and if that wasn’t enough to signal he was still on duty, then his rigid posture would have.

“Lucien?” Elain rubbed her eyes, wondering if she had fallen asleep after all. When she dropped her hands, he was still there, watching her warily. “I didn’t know there were guards posted on my balcony.”

Or that you were one of them. If she’d known all this time that Lucien was just outside her door while she slept, she may have come up with more inventive ways of getting them alone.

A ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. “Your mother wanted me stationed here tonight, in case you attempted to run away.”

Elain was almost flattered that her mother thought she was capable of running away. She’d entertained the idea, and had even stepped onto the balcony earlier to scout the best path towards the gates. But it wouldn’t be like sneaking into the village, where she knew Lucien wouldn’t be far behind to bring her back. She had no idea where she would go—if there even was anywhere she could go, where Lucien wouldn’t be able to find her.

“If I ran away,” she asked, studying his face. The way his eyes surveyed her, noting the way she was dressed. “Would you chase after me?”

An odd look crossed his face. His voice was a little strained as he asked, “Would you want me to?”

Elain hesitated, uncertain of her answer. She would want him to chase her, but not out of duty to her mother. “I wouldn’t want you to bring me back,” she said. “I would want you to find me and stay with me. Like you promised.”

“Then yes, princess.” Lucien's eyes met hers. “I would chase after you, and I wouldn’t rest until I’d found you.”

Emboldened by his words, and the way he was looking at her, Elain took a step closer. “Would you let me run away now?”

“Dressed like that?” He asked, with a roughness to his voice that made her shiver. She would blame it on the cool air. Lucien cleared his throat. “I would let you, if that’s what you wanted, princess.”

She took another step, hardly believing her own brazeness. The wind pulled at Lucien’s hair, blowing close enough that it nearly brushed against her cheek.

Elain whispered, just loud enough that it would remain a secret between herself and Lucien and the wind. “What if I wanted something else?”

He tipped his chin down, casting shadow over his features so that all she could read was the rasp in his voice as he asked, “What is it you want?”

Gods, where to start? Elain took another step forward, the last of the distance between them, and returned her palm to that crest above his heart so she could once more feel the rhythm of his pulse. It was more calming than any hot bath or fresh air.

She dared herself to say it. The words were on her tongue, but still the jitter of her nerves made her hesitate. Would it be too far? It would be something no one could ever take back, something that would always be hers.

“You still owe me a kiss, Lucien.”

Lucien released a large exhale of breath. She felt the shift in his chest beneath her fingers. “Elain—”

He started to step away and Elain fisted the fabric of his tunic, tugging him closer. “Please, Lucien. I do not care about my mother or the prince. I don’t care about duty I just…” she gasped, searching his face, begging him to understand. “I need something that’s mine. I want to be touched for the first time by someone I—” love. “Trust.”

Beneath her grip, he took another long breath. Then he asked, words so precisely measured, “Do you want to be kissed by someone you trust, or do you want to be kissed by me.”

“Both,” she said, quietly. Then, feeling like a coward, she admitted, “I want it to be you Lucien. I have—” she was interrupted by breath expelling rapidly from her lungs, an exodus of her body preparing for the burden of what she was going to confess. “I have always wanted it to be you.”

Lucien could have gotten more from her, if he’d pressed. She would have confessed to the crime of loving him, of constantly making a nuisance of herself to get his attention. It was probably for the better that Lucien took mercy on her, so that it remained a weight she alone carried.

Any of his remaining reservations dropped with his hands as he grasped her around the waist. He lifted her with the same gentleness he had demonstrated earlier, spinning them so that he could set her down on the thick parapet. It left them eye level, allowing him to wedge his body between her legs and venture dangerously close. One of his arms banded around her back to steady her, while the other crept along her jaw, encouraging her face upwards.

Their eyes met as he leaned in. She could see him hesitate, like he wanted to say something. Elain surged forward, terrified it would be something reasonable, wanting to smother his logic before it had a chance to make them wiser. He groaned the second their lips met, which she took as an encouraging sign. Indeed, there was nothing reserved about the way his fingers slid and notched into her hair, how his arm tightened at her back to draw her closer to his body.

His mouth was soft, moving slowly against hers while she became used to the sensation. She liked the way he tasted, rich and earthen, like the smoke of an autumn bonfire. When he licked his tongue across her bottom lip, she parted her lips for him, shutting her eyes as her senses became hazed and overwhelmed with Lucien.

Elain clawed, blindly, for a way to bring him closer, tightening her grip on his tunic while her other hand tangled in his silken hair. Lucien’s tongue swept her mouth, rattling Elain to her bones, knowing she would never be rid of the taste of him. She was attending her own haunting, and she accepted it greedily, meeting him for every stroke. Until she was so consumed with him she couldn’t breathe.

They parted just enough to leave a space for hot, shallow breaths.

“I have wanted to kiss you,” Lucien said, low and rough and breathless, “from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Then they were kissing again, like he couldn’t stand another moment of breathing air, and neither could she. Elain scooted forward on the parapet, not caring that her nightgown was riding up, only need to get closer to him, to wrap her legs around his—

“Elain,” he groaned, utterly wrecked. The hand on her back dropped to her exposed thigh, curling beneath it to hoist her legs higher.

She felt like she was on fire when she felt his hardened crotch against her stomach. There was no sound past the rushing in her ears and the way he grunted, weak and not at all warrior-like, when she shifted against him.

“Elain,” he gasped again, still kissing her. “Elain, we can’t—“

“Says who?”

“They’ll truly have my head,” he said, pulling his lips away long enough to utter the words, only to fall back to her like gravity demanded it. “Mother condemn me, I shouldn’t want this.”

“I want it, Lucien.” She ground her hips forward to illustrate her point. “I want it more than I can breathe.”

The hand braced against her thigh was trembling. She could feel it beneath her palm, the way his heart had become erratic.

“You’ve never been touched—“

“I want you to be the first,” she insisted, before kissing him in an attempt to distract his protests, which she knew were level-headed and rational. There was no room for such things when she was sharing his breath. Not when her body was hot and aching in a way that was only familiar when she was under her bedsheets, thinking of him.

With a resigned moan, Lucien lifted Elain from the parapet and carried her back into the bedroom. Even as he moved, precariously, through the dark, they could not stop kissing. Every second not touching him was a second wasted.

Elain was certain if she had allowed him a moment to pull away, he would have laid her down on the mattress with more grace. Instead they fell in a tangle of limbs and lips and tongue. She knew little about what came next, but she knew Lucien was far too overdressed for it.

She snaked a hand beneath the hem of his tunic, feeling carved muscle and a patch of coarse hair that led beneath the waistband of his trousers. Elain pushed up, scraping her nails along his abdomen, needing to hear him moan again, to taste it on her tongue.

Strong fingers seized her wrists as Lucien swore softly under his breath.

“I want to take my time,” he said, lowering her wrist back to the bed. Lucien sat up, leaning back on his knees where they rested between her thighs. Warm fingers skimmed her legs as he began pushing up the skirt of her nightgown. “If this is my only chance to touch you, I want to do it right. I want to worship you in ways a spoiled prince could never fathom.”

“All talk,” Elain teased, growing restless for every moment that passed where his lips weren’t against hers. She tugged at his tunic again, but Lucien pulled back, laughing softly.

“No more talking, then,” he said.

In a fluid motion, Lucien slid his hands up to bunch the nightgown above her hips. Cool air pressed in, scalding her in every place her body felt the absence of his. Elain dug her fingers into the sheets, resisting the urge to fly them to her face as Lucien’s heady gaze swept over her bare legs and the wet, silken fabric at the peak of them.

She heard a breath rush out of him, like he’d been struck in the stomach. Then he fell upon her, kissing her hips, her stomach, her thighs. Where his mouth couldn’t caress her, he laid his fingers, lavishing his affection anywhere he could find, until Elain thought she might burst from the ache in her chest. She would never recover from knowing him this way.

“Lucien,” she whispered, releasing her iron grip on the sheets to replace them in his hair instead. She tugged, overwhelmed with the need to feel the heat of his mouth over hers again. “Please—”

“You said no more talking,” he murmured, hooking his fingers into the fabric at her hips. She couldn’t breath as he tugged them down her hips, apprehension building once he’d finished with the task of disrobing her and his eyes roamed back to the apex of her thighs.

Elain could feel his body slacken and, impulsively, she began closing her thighs, trying to hide the sight from him. His hands flew to her knees, gentle in stopping her.

“Cauldron save me,” he whispered, ducking his head back between her thighs. “I am a ruined man, Elain.”

She wasn’t certain what he meant, but when she felt his breath brush against the wetness between her legs, she was less inclined to ask. Nothing could have prepared her for that first lick. When she felt the first soft, velvet heat of his tongue, her hips bowed off the bed. Lucien had to press her back down, holding her to his mouth as he licked her again, a slow stripe all the way through her center.

The sound that came out of her was somewhere between a whimper and a moan, so loud that she finally did let one of her hands fly to her face, covering her mouth to prevent anyone from overhearing. Ordinarily, Lucien might have teased her for it, but he was utterly lost, his eyes fallen shut as he explored her with his tongue, groaning softly like he was the one gleaning pleasure from it.

Her thighs began trembling, held still only by Lucien’s conviction as he licked up and swirled his tongue languidly around her sensitive bud. Elain bit her hand to smother the cries begging to escape, but she could do nothing for the way her hips canted against him, silently pleading for more.

As he continued lashing her with his tongue, one of his hands slipped lower, gliding easily through the mixture of arousal and saliva. A finger teased at entering her, and she felt her heart thunder at that very first push. She felt him still, gauging her reaction intently as he slowly pushed his finger further, letting her accommodate to the sensation of having something inside her. Elain whimpered, tugging at his hair again. She didn’t want him to stop, needed to feel his mouth move against her. Lucien tongued at her clit in response, causing them to moan in tandem when her body tightened around his finger.

The more he licked, the more she relaxed, until he was able to begin moving his finger in rhythm with his tongue, coaxing a heat into her spine she had never encountered when touching herself this way. The pressure built as he slipped another finger inside her and he began rubbing against a cluster of nerves that had her seeing stars.

“That’s it,” Lucien whispered, voice roughened with lust. “Come for me, princess. Come on your guard’s fingers.”

Her entire body clenched, seizing with the sudden onslaught of pleasure that crested over her, large and inescapable as a tidal wave. She smothered a scream behind her palm, vision turning white as Lucien continued moving against her, working her through the ravaging pleasure.

She collapsed into the bed once it passed, gasping. Lucien withdrew his fingers and with a final, sucking lick that felt more for his benefit, he raised his head from her thighs to meet her eyes.

“Would you like to go to sleep now, princess?”

“No,” she whispered, reaching again for his tunic. “Not until I’ve seen you undressed.”

“So demanding, you royals,” he murmured, helping her frantic efforts to get the fabric over his head. He unbuckled his scabbard, letting his sword clamber to the ground. Then she was unlacing his trousers, staring at the swath of red hair beneath his naval, suddenly overcome with the need to trace it with her tongue. Lucien groaned. “I can’t think straight with you staring at me that way, Elain.”

“Good,” she whispered, tugging both waistbands down his hips. “It puts us finally on equal footing.”

Elain finally understood why Lucien sounded as though he’d been punched when he saw her naked for the first time. It was akin to how she felt, when she pushed the fabric past his erection and saw a man, entirely naked, for the first time in her life. He was beautiful, all golden brown skin and lean muscle. And the appendage between his legs was large—much larger than the two fingers that had been inside her.

She stared at the flushed, gleaming head in fascination, trying not to let its size intimidate her. Slowly, uncertain if it was allowed, she reached forward to wrap her hand around it, surprised to find the flesh soft and rigid. It pulsed beneath her hand, and Lucien grunted as she ran a slow pump down his length.

“Lay back,” he said, the words nearly garbled.

They were both far too distracted to relish the rare moment of Elain doing exactly what she was told. Lucien aligned their bodies, his mouth finding hers again as he began running his length through her slit, coating himself in her arousal.

“Are you certain about this, Elain?” He asked. She could feel him shuddering from the restraint of keeping his body still, prepared to seize himself if she denied him. Elain couldn’t think of anything worse.

“Yes, Lucien, I’m certain. I—” she almost said it. She wanted to say it, wanted him to know how much she cherished him. But was that selfish of her, to tell him she loved him, only to marry another man by the end of the week? A courtship and marriage that he would be forced to witness, as her impartial guard. “I want this,” she said instead.

She thought she might have seen something—disappointment, or maybe relief—flicker in his eyes. It disappeared the moment he notched his head against her entrance, just enough that she whimpered at the pressure. Lucien immediately kissed her, trying to soothe the ache of the stretch by holding her with such devastating gentleness. His hand found hers, their fingers twining as he continued sinking slowly into her body.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his breathing suddenly ragged. Elain squeezed her eyes shut, breathing through the strange, somewhat intrusive sensation. “Elain—” She liked the way he said it, like he was choking, so overcome with pleasure he couldn’t speak. “Fuck. You feel amazing. Does it—Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered, with a small shift of her hips that caused Lucien to groan.

He slipped his freehand between their bodies, expertly rolling his thumb over her swollen clit. “Is that better?”

It was answered with a buck of her hips and a small keening noise as Elain’s discomfort shifted almost immediately into pleasure. Her body relaxed, allowing Lucien to push further, until his hips were flush against hers, and there was not a single barrier that existed between them.

Lucien’s tongue swept back into her mouth, allowing Elain to taste herself on his tongue. They stayed like that for a small eternity, kissing sweetly while he continued rubbing between her thighs, letting her adjust to the way it all felt, until the pleasure began to drive her mad. She dug her fingers into his back, rocking her hips against his to urge him to move.

She could feel him smile against her mouth. “My beautiful princess,” he murmured, slowly sliding out. “Say it again, that you want me.”

He was the one who was beautiful, with his hair falling over them in a scarlet veil, his cheeks flushed and his eyes heady with desire. Elain brushed his hair away to see more of his face, hoping that loving touch conveyed all the sentiment she couldn’t yet force herself to confess. Then she used her grip on his hair to bring his mouth back to hers, kissing him again and again—feverishly.

“I want you, Lucien,” she said, breathlessly, between those awful moments where his mouth wasn’t slotted against her own.

He was teasing her now, holding himself just outside her body while he continued those torturous circles with his fingers. “So obedient like this, princess,” he broke their string of kisses to whisper. “If only I had known all this time, I just needed to offer up my cock to get you to listen.”

“Don’t be crude,” she complained, half in scandal and half in her utter desperation to feel his tongue and cock inside her again.

His hips retreated further, the smile on his lips turning cruel. “You don’t want my cock, then?”

“Lucien.”

“Say it, princess.” The fingers between her legs picked up pace, driving her to madness. “Ask me to give you my cock.”

Elain dug the backs of her heels into his backside, trying to encourage him forward. When he resisted, she whispered, “Please Lucien.” And when that, too, was ineffective, she added, “Please, give me your cock.”

That earned her another sweet kiss. “As my princess commands,” he said, thrusting back inside her.

With the combination of his fingers, it quickly spun her over an edge she hadn’t known she’d been approaching. Elain’s scream was swallowed by his lips as she shattered around him, her nails scraping mercilessly over his scarred back. Lucien groaned, continuing to thrust and work his fingers against her while hot fire burst behind her eyes, through her veins, branding her soul in a way that felt irreversible, until she was little more than the drifting ash of a wildfire.

“That’s it,” he whispered as she began to come down. “You’ve done so well, Elain.”

Lucien’s own rhythm started to stutter, and to her dismay he pulled out of her body, crying out as hot, white liquid spurted from the tip and landed on her smooth stomach. His breathing was labored as he leaned down to offer her another quick kiss, before disappearing into the bathing room. He returned with a wet cloth that he used to gently clean the majority of the mess on her stomach and between her thighs.

When he finished, Lucien slid into the bed beside her, drawing her flush against his sweaty skin. His hands raked into her hair, stroking along her scalp, reminiscent of the way he’d held her earlier that day.

“How are you feeling?” He murmured, chasing the question with a kiss to her damp temple.

“Incredible.” It was the truth, ignoring all the anxieties and trepidation that laid deeper. They grew harder to ignore the longer Elain thought of what waited for her on the other side of the dawn.

Lucien seemed to know it, because he hummed like he wasn’t convinced. “You should sleep,” he said. “You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

Elain thought again of that man from her dreams, her mind’s overwrought projection of the one she’d meet tomorrow. Not yet prepared to face him, nor the coming morning, Elain shook her head and cured her face and against his chest.

“Will you stay?”

The words were muffled against his skin, but Lucien heard them well enough to answer, “I’ll stay.”

Elain woke to the sound of her chamber doors being thrown open. She scrambled immediately for the blankets, pulling them up to cover her naked body. The maid’s eyes were the size of saucers as she looked towards the bed. For a moment, Elain couldn’t speak past the panic that seized her, thinking they had been caught. The maid would surely tell her mother, and Lucien would be—

Gone. Lucien wasn’t there when Elain turned, expecting to find him equally exposed. The sheets were cold, telling her he had left long ago. Seeing as it had already been late into the morning when she found him on the balcony, she wondered if he had even gone to sleep at all. Had he simply slipped out the moment she drifted off? For some reason, that thought stung.

“Your highness,” the maid said, locking the chamber door before rushing to the wardrobe. She hardly looked at the clothes she threw over her arm. “You must get dressed immediately.”

The hairs on Elain’s arms stood on edge. “What’s wrong?”

She thought, in the distance, she might have heard someone scream. Her maid came to the edge of the bed, close enough that Elain could see her red-rimmed eyes.

“Prince Koschei’s men have stormed the castle,” the maid said. The crack in her voice made Elain wonder what, exactly, she’d witnessed in her race to get to Elain’s chambers. “They are on their way up, lady. You must run.”

The world seemed to slow down as Elain stumbled out of bed, every unsteady breath scraping past the heartbeat that rampaged her throat, her chest, her shaking fingers. She frantically shoved herself into the clothes and the accompanying cloak, the hood of which she pulled over her head.

Elain headed towards the balcony, intending to take the same route to the village she had once gone before, but the maid stopped her. “They’ll be expecting you to go that way, your highness.”

For a moment, Elain wondered if she was being naive following her maid out of her bedroom, towards the sounds of clashing metal and shouting men. Maybe she had been threatened to fetch the princess, and was sparing herself some awful fate through betrayal. Her fears ebbed as they snuck into a servant’s corridor together, the sounds of fighting abruptly cut off as the servant shut the discrete doorway.

“This way,” she whispered, guiding Elain through the narrow passage, down a set of stairs. On the other side of the wall, she could hear heavy, rushing footsteps heading up. They ducked into the servant’s quarters, which was frighteningly empty.

From far away, she heard someone shout, “The princess isn’t in her room!”

“Find her!”

Elain covered a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out, trying not to let her mind wander as to what they would do once they found her. If they were already in her bedroom, had the castle guards been overcome? Was… Was Lucien—

She was pulled abruptly from her thoughts as the maid hurried Elain across the quarters, into the scullery. The back door was open, but Elain heard footsteps approaching and pulled the maid up short.

“Quick,” she whispered, pulling up a tablecloth that they both ducked underneath.

Peering through the narrow gap between the cloth and the floor, Elain could see two pairs of polished boots pause in front of the doorway.

“The princess has escaped,” said a deep, masculine voice that she didn’t recognize.

“She couldn’t have gone far,” said another. One she knew as honeyed and graveled and full of sweet, empty promises. “I know the precise route she would have taken to the village.”

Elain stopped breathing.

“Find her, Lucien.”

And that second pair of boots, the ones she had thrown dirt on just the day before, knelt to the ground and plunged a familiar sword into the earth. “I will, your highness. I swear it.”

#Shout out to the UBC for helping me choose the moodboard #APPRECIATE YALL #Elucien #Elucien fic #Elain x Lucien #Lucien x Elain #Elainweek2023 #Lucien Vanserra #Elain Archeron

163 notes · View notes

callsigndragon · 1 year

Text

Seeing Red | Ch. 52: Epilogue ✍️📲

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: mentions of death (as a memory), nightmares, pregnancy innacuracy probably, soft fluff, Liam's bday party AND ASH'S SECREEEEEEET

A/N: THIS IS A WRAP! Oh my gosh, I still can't believe that this began less than a month ago and it's been a hell of a ride. I've laughed and cried with this fic, I've met beautiful people and I discovered a lot of me while writing it. This isn't the end! I will definitely come to them in the future, Jake and Red have a very special place in my heart and it's time to let them go for a while and focus on the new pair... Rooster and Ash! I hope that some of you stay around for Tasting the Ashes. There's gonna be some mystery and also... well, you'll see. It's gonna be funny and crazy and I love it already.

It’s been months since that dreadful night, but it feels like yesterday.

When you walked out of the house, dozens of police officers walked in, guns in hand, ready to get the two men who had kidnapped your kid. Nobody seemed to know yet that you and Gibbs had ended the job.

Maverick and Rooster were there, playing with Liam, who had woken up at last. Paramedics checked on him, and even though he was fine, they wanted to take him to the hospital to run some tests. Just to make sure that he was completely okay.

Maverick hugged you two tight, tears running down his face because his kids were okay. Yeah, Mav started to call you Red Mitchell that day. When you asked him what they were doing there, he simply said, “I couldn’t stay behind and do nothing. I came to help.”

It was like getting back the father you had lost so many years ago

Rooster had been taking care of Liam since he woke up and somehow managed to convince him that it had all been a nightmare. Both boys were playing with Liam’s Mater toy that Bradley had brought all the way with him. You almost cried when you heard Liam’s giggles.

He was okay. Jake was okay. You were okay.

And so was baby Seresin. She was perfectly fine and healthy. Yes, Jake was right. It was a baby girl, Jake’s little princess. Little Maeve had her father wrapped around her little finger before she was even born. He cried when you told him the name you wanted for her.

Maeve was his mother’s name. You wanted to remember her in some way because, while she didn't always make the best decisions to protect her son, you could understand her desperation and how she believed that harming her child was the only way to spare him a life of suffering like hers. You had only been in Gregory’s presence for less than an hour, but it was enough to make you consider all the possible options and scenarios. A part of you could understand how scared Maeve must have been.

While Liam was okay, and you were absolutely glad about it, Jake and you had to face another reality: the aftermath. You couldn’t sleep for weeks without waking up with fast breathing and sweat soaking up your clothes, running to Liam’s room, and checking that he was still there. Jake had it worse; he had to hold Liam’s lifeless body between his arms while your bloody one lay in front of him. He lost it all in his nightmares, just to wake up and realize that his family was there, that Liam was asleep in his room, that you were alive, and your baby bump was growing bigger each week.

You eventually moved out of the house, filled with so many bad memories that neither of you was able to sleep without nightmares coming to haunt you at least once a week.

Now both of you live in a beautiful house you bought outside the base with the money Jake inherited. Oh, yeah. A lawyer came to the base a month after the kidnapping, looking for Jake. He had inherited the company, the mansion, and a lot of money, most of it dirty. He didn’t know what to do with it. He asked for advice, but you didn’t think it was your place to say what he should do or not with that money.

Jake eventually sold the mansion, donated half the money his father had owned in his life to different organizations that helped victims of terrorism or war, orphans, victims of domestic violence, etc. He wanted to give the money to people who really needed it. But he didn’t give it all, because, as much as he wanted to destroy the whole company and dance over its ashes, there were thousands of families that depended on it. Men and women who worked on making those weapons and whose money put food on the table.

Jake Seresin was the owner of that company, but he didn’t run it. He left that burden to other people. It was better that way.

He was a Lieutenant Commander now; he didn’t have time to run a company, be a father and the leader of the Dagger Squad.

It turns out that Jake Seresin had been given a recommendation to get a promotion after the uranium mission, but Cyclone kept it hidden because he didn’t want Jake to become more insufferable than he already was. Or that’s what the ex-vice admiral stated in his court-martial. Jake had received several recommendations over those three years. The first was Maverick's, and that was the one that Cyclone first ignored. The second was by Captain Kerner, after the Dagger Squad worked on a mission under his command. Cyclone also hid that one. The third one was from you; a month after you came to base, watching the spectacular leadership skills he had, you thought that he deserved to be a rank higher than he was.

With all the things that happened, you completely forgot about the recommendation. But when Iceman started investigating Cyclone’s hidden agenda, he found out everything. Jake got promoted the day before Cyclone’s court-martial, so when you two walked in there the next day, Jake had his new shiny badges on, and Cyclone’s face was worth every waiting second. He didn’t actually do anything wrong, just hid information, was an asshole, and tried to get a good aviator kicked out just because he was jealous of him.

He was dishonorably discharged, and you don’t have to care about him anymore.

Dagger Squad is now led by two Seresins, even though one of them is gone due to maternity leave.

“Sweets, are you okay?”

Jake’s words pull you out of your daydream. “Oh yeah, I was just remembering everything.”

He sits next to you on the sofa, his hand instantly moving to your belly. He finds it extremely fascinating how there’s a tiny little human inside you, growing every day. “It’s all in the past now, love. Now we have to think about the present.”

“I still can't believe Liam is turning three today.” You chuckle when Jake presses his lips against your bump. “You love her more than me.”

“Honey, you are my wife, and I’ll love you till the end of my days. But these kids are the love of my life.”

You feel tears coming to your eyes at his answer. “You love them more than me?”

Jake bites his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing, he knows that this reaction is due to the hormones. This second semester is making you cry a lot. You have been crying at the most random things: you cried when you ran out of peanut butter, when Ava started pre-k, when you and Jake went to the store to buy some new clothes for Liam and the t-shirt you wanted wasn’t in Liam’s size…

He knows he shouldn’t laugh, but it’s hilarious. “Of course not, Mama Seresin, I love you more.”

“But a parent should love his kids more than anything.” You retort, hot, wet tears running down your face.

“I love your pregnancy hormones.” Jake giggles, kissing your pouty lips and cleaning your face. “We need to go, they’re all waiting at the Hard Deck.”

Jake goes to get your shoes and helps you wear them. “Penny is so wonderful for closing the Hard Deck to celebrate Liam’s birthday party.”

“Yeah, she’s the best memaw ever.”

Charlotte walks in with Liam in his arms. “Someone said party?”

"Look at her, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Jake says, hugging Charlotte, who had been staying a few days with you.

“I’m not beautiful anymore? Is it because I’m fat? It’s your fault there’s a baby inside me.” You say, crying again.

Jake doubles in laughter. He loves your pregnancy hormones.

“Why would Ash call Rooster instead of me?” You ask Jake, reading the conversation over and over again.

“I don’t know, love. Perhaps she realized she was in love with him."

“Nah, Ash doesn’t fall in love that easily.” You explain, watching Javy and Nat walk towards you. “You two are so cute together.”

“Please, don’t cry again.” Nat begs, caressing your baby bump. “Maeve you need to get out of there soon enough or your mama will fill a pool with her tears.”

“She needs to stay there for another four months, thank you so much.”

Rooster walks into the bar, gift in hand, his mustache days are over, and he's rocking a short boxed beard. “I made it! I’m not late! You can’t yell at me.”

“I mean, I could.” Mav says, smacking Rooster’s head. “Why are you late to Liam’s birthday party?”

“You didn’t read the chat?”

“No, I was playing with the birthday boy.” Mav looks at his phone and groans. “Son, maybe you should forget about her.”

“Wait, what? Now that she's looking for me?" Rooster shakes his head. “No chance in hell.”

All of you sigh at the same time, knowing that he’s completely in love with the mysterious girl she has seen a few times. He doesn’t even know how she is in reality, but he’s in love with this idea of her he has.

“Okay so… now that we’re all here, and before we call the kids inside to start Liam’s party. Penny, my dear, can you come here?” Mav asks, looking around while searching for his wife.

Penny, and Ames too, go to stand next to Mav with a white envelope in her hands. You smile, knowing the secrets that the envelope hides inside.

“I got a present for you, Jake.” Penny hands the envelope to Jake, and smiles, eyes glistening. “Open it, sweetheart.”

“It’s not my birthday.” Jake chuckles, opening the white paper envelope and grabbing the folded papers that are inside. He unfolds it and has to sit down when he reads the big black letters at the top of the page. “Adoption papers?”

“Your life has been an absolute disaster, Jake, and you deserve better than that. You deserve a loving family and doting parents that care for you, celebrate your victories, and are always ready to offer a helping hand in case of need.” Penny explains, hugging Mav’s arm. “And we want to be those parents.”

“You want to adopt me?” Jake manages to say, nose red, and tears welling up in his eyes.

“It was my idea, actually.” Ames stands in front of Jake, with a pen in her hand. “You’re my brother, and I want everyone to know that. Want to join the Mitchells?”

“What happened with Benjamin-Mitchell?” He asks, grabbing Amelia’s pen.

“It was a mouthful. Now sing those papers, you dingus.” Ames is on the verge of sobbing.

Jake signs the papers and looks at you. “You knew about this?”

“Of course I knew. It was a secret.” You kiss his cheek. “Guess we’re the Mitchells now.”

“A big and loud family.” Penny says, hugging you and Jake, Ames, and Mav joining her too. “Charlotte, can I ask your daughter to call me mom?”

Charlotte laughs and nods. “She’s gonna need you once I go back home.”

“She has a boyfriend now. She's gonna leave me and run away with him.” You wink at your mom, and she laughs. You’re happy that she has found another person who loves her as much as your dad did. She deserves it.

“You have to call me dad now.” Mav says, wiping the tears from his face.

“Can I call you dad too?”

You look around, trying to find the owner of the voice. Who said that? You see Ash standing behind Mav. At first, you don’t understand what she’s doing here.

Then you realize that she just asked Mav if she could call him dad.

And after that, you see the big baby bump she has.

“Ash, you're pregnant?” You question, looking at her. “Wait, you want to call Mav da- Oh.”

“I think I’m lost here.” Penny says, looking at Mav. “You know her?”

“I-I don’t think so.” Mav glances at Ash, tilting his head. “Do I know you?”

“You remember Barbara?” Ash says, ignoring Rooster, who has moved to stand next to her. He’s going to pass out in a moment.

“Babs? Your mom is Babs?” Mav looks at Ice, who has been sitting in the back with Mickey and Payback. “Ice, you knew about this?”

“How was I supposed to know?” He groans, looking at him.

“Babs was your friend!”

“That doesn’t mean that she told me every secret she had. And she certainly didn’t tell me about you having a daughter.” Ice places a hand on Ash’s shoulder. “Sweetie, you want to sit down?”

“Don’t worry, I’m okay. Twins make the belly look bigger.”

You get up from your stool, walking over to her with a finger raised. “Excuse me, young lady. You come here on the day of my son’s birthday, and not only have you finally found the man you were looking for all these months, but you also happen to be pregnant with twins, and you didn’t tell me?”

“You would have told Rooster!”

“And what does Rooster have to do with this?”

“He’s the father!”

“He’s what!?” You say, looking at Rooster. “You said you used protection!”

“AND I DID!”

You point at Ash’s belly. “YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?”

Rooster looks between you and Ash, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “This can’t be fucking happening.”

Jake pats Rooster in the back. “Congrats, man. You’re finally having that baby you wanted.”

Rooster's face goes blank before he passes out, Jake and Javy catching him before he falls to the floor.

“Disasters follow this family wherever we go.” You say, sitting down next to Nat, watching as the guys move Rooster to one of the chairs.

“Well, at least this is a happy disaster.” She says, before raising her beer. “Congratulations, Dada Bradshaw.”

#top gun maverick #seeing red #top gun x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fanfiction #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #top gun #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x fem!reader #hangman x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fluff

259 notes · View notes

evan4ever · 1 year

Text

Vegas, Baby

Part 10 — part 9 here

Warnings: smut (eeek), p in v penetration, fingering

—

You spent 5 days in the hospital recovering from the two major surgeries you had while your baby spent the time in the NICU 3 of those days. Evan had stayed at the hospital with you for the first 3 days before your given OB announced that your baby was able to go home in which Evan talked to you very detailed about. He was just as much a first time parent as you, so he really had no idea what he was supposed to do and needed you to help him or at least give him an idea.

You did your best. You told him what your nurses told you — formula every 2-3 hours, change, sleep. You reminded him it was only 3 days then you’d be home to help and to pretty much focus on making sure he’s fed and for him to sleep when baby sleeps, major rule of thumb. It made you nervous to not be where your child was, but you needed to heal more and you trusted Evan.

When he came to pick you up on your fifth day after you’d been discharged, you were surprised that your baby wasn’t with him and it filled you with many questions.

“Who did you leave him with? Are you sure you trust them? People are awful these days I don’t think we should be leaving him with just anyone. Did you do a background check?” You flooded him with the questions while you both finished filling your bags and picked them up, exiting the room. He had your heavy bag while you had your purse and the files of papers and such that you were given throughout your hospital stay.

“He’s with my mom.” You blinked up to Evan wide eyed who only sent you a quick smile. His mom? You were going to meet his mom?

Of course. She’s your child’s grandmother. Why would she not be here? It just never crossed your mind and honestly made you a bit nervous to meet her.

“Oh… when- when did she get here?” You cleared your throat, obviously nervous.

Evan chuckled while opening the front hospital doors and allowing you to walk out, following behind you.

“Yesterday. I forgot to tell you she had wanted to visit as soon as she found out you moved in with me, but we ended up coming here before she could. She took the first flight as soon as Joey was discharged. I hope that’s okay?” He glanced down at you while helping you put your belongings in the back of the vehicle.

You nodded quickly not at all meaning to seem like you weren’t okay with it. “Of course! Just surprised is all.” You finally sent him a soft, reassuring smile which he happily returned before helping you into the passenger seat of his car and closing your door. You immediately rested your head on the headrest and closed your eyes as you waited for him to get into the drivers side, but when some minutes passed and he still hasn’t entered, your eyes opened and you looked out the rear view to see what was going on and your eyes landed on a couple people talking to Evan. Fans maybe? They press? You weren’t sure.

You knew it was going to be crazy with the paparazzi and press and fans as soon as everyone would find out that Evans child was born, you yourself just wasnt mentally prepared for it. You had no interest in being in any kind of public eye. Being kind wasnt hard, just dealing with it, but you definitely wouldn’t enjoy it.

You sat on your phone patiently while Evan dealt with whatever it was they wanted or needed, looking up when you heard the car door open. You shot him a quick, curious smile to which he just shrugged.

“It’s nothing.” He stated before backing the vehicle out of the parking space and heading for the road. “You ready to see our little boy?” He grinned while looking at the road. Your heart fluttered at his excitement and you nodded.

“More than ever” you groaned as if it were the worst 3 days without your baby. “How’s he doing? Adjusting well?” You questioned. Evan sent you pictures and videos but you hadn’t gotten a real update, just quick “doing good” replies.

“Yeah. Yeah he’s doing great. You would have no idea he was born 5 days ago.” He grinned more.

“And you?” Your head tilted to the side while looking at him.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened and loosened, your eyes flickering from them back to his face. “I’m good. It’s new, ya know? I’ll get there.” He nodded.

“I think you’re doing great” you smiled softly, his head turning so his eyes could meet you appreciatively before back to the road. “Just tell me if you feel off at all or anything. Postpartum depression and anxiety can happen for dads too.” You nodded, wanting him to know you were there for him, regardless.

He sucked in a deep breath and let it out with a loud sigh. “It’s hard to think about going back to work.” He admitted, your head resting against the headrest again while still facing him. “Sucks to know I’ll be without you guys, even just for awhile.”

You smiled, your eyes flickering to your hands as you thought about what he said. You hadn’t even given any thought to his job in this time. He’d been so focused on you and the baby and getting you moved, taking the time off for all of it. He also got to take paternity leave, but that was only a month total. Thinking of it now and realizing his job often requires traveling and week stays in other places sometimes. It scared you a bit, thinking about being alone with Joey in a new place.

“We don’t have to worry about that right now, though” his voice brought you out of your mind, your eyes flickering back up to meet his that were momentarily on you before on the road again. You pressed your lips into a smile and nodded. “I’ve got you guys for a whole month.”

The rest of the ride was filled with comfortable small talk, and Evan telling you what to expect from his mom. He spoke about her so kindly and lovingly, which made your heart happy to know he had such a great relationship with his parents and siblings. You were still nervous about meeting them, but he eased your nerves a bit, made you excited even. He mentioned Julie being excited to meet you, the mother of his child. He never spoke of any disappointment they may have felt with impregnating a random, newly divorced, young girl from Vegas. There was 10 years between you and Evan, and you surely thought that alone may be a problem for really anyone, but it was never brought up.

Neither was your divorce or last relationship. Evan new of it, but you dreaded having to go into any detail. You were young and stupid, met the guy at 15 and got married at 18. He was 29 at the time, so it’s not out of the ordinary for you to be attracted to older men. But when you matured and after divorcing, you say and thought about it. You were 15 and with a 26 year old, so it was definitely a predatory situation but at 15 and with no guidance, you saw nothing wrong with it. You also needed a place to stay and you didn’t want to be with your foster parents anymore, so at the time it was a win win. Now, 11 years later, you wish you wouldn’t have been so naive. But, you live and you learn. It just wasn’t a conversation you were excited to have with Evan.

“Alrighty” he turned the car off as he pulled into his garage, stepping out and immediately coming to your door to open it and help you out. “I’ll grab your bags and meet you inside.” He smiled down at you. You sucked in a deep breath, looking up to him now and with him being so close. You knew your hormones were still off their rockers, but being so close to him now so badly made you want to crash your lips on his. He scanned over your face before you realized you were staring, you quickly looking away and clearing your throat awkwardly.

“Sorry. Yeah, okay” you nodded and quickly made your way to the door, not turning to Evan when you heard him call your name and tell you to wait. You were flustered and didn’t want to face it, instead making your way into the house and away from the situation as a whole.

You slowed your pace once you entered the kitchen and listened for any talking or noise to direct yourself to your baby, but hearing nothing you turned to the cupboard and grabbed a glass to fill yourself some water. You specifically chose the filtered fridge water, closing your eyes while it filled and resting your forehead against the fridge door. You knew better than to fall for Evan. It wouldn’t work out. He was a busy guy and him inviting you into his home was specifically to bring him closer to his child and avoid all the nonsense traveling and splitting him up. You knew you had to find your own place soon and give Evan his home back. It was just such a pain in the ass to think straight around the kind man. Fucking pregnancy and postpartum hormones.

“You must be y/n!” You jumped at the sound of a new voice, your eyes quickly landing on an older woman who was gently bouncing Joey in her arms. She wore a more than kind smile and you quickly realized it was Julie.

“Yeah” you nodded. “Julie, right?”

“That’s me.” She stated turning away and you following her to the living room while taking a quick drink from the glass and setting it aside. “How are you feeling sweetie? Cesareans are such big surgeries, you be careful with yourself now okay?”

You nodded, appreciating her caring words before sitting next to her on the couch. “I’m alright. They took really good care of me there.”

“That’s so great to hear. I’ve heard good things about that hospital.” You listened to her carefully, but your eyes were on your sweet baby within her arms. “I suppose you’d like to hold your precious boy?” She offered to which you quickly nodded, meeting her eyes for a moment graciously before taking Joey carefully from her extended arms. You gazed down at his soft face, your thumb tracing down his chubby cheek and smiling when he turned his head into your touch even more. “He’s truly a beautiful little one.” You looked up when Julie spoke and smiled more.

“Thank you. I think so too” you pressed your lips together and looked back down at him. “I’m glad you could make it here, Julie.”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.” You could hear the sincerity in her voice but continued gazing at your child. “Evan mentioned you were from the Mideast? How is the change of weather treating you?”

You let out a small chuckle and nodded, “it’s definitely a change. But I very much prefer warm weather over the cold and snow, so I’m happy to be here.” You admitted. “It’ll be a good boost in Vitamin D considering we lack it over there.” You both laughed lightly, your eyes landing on Evan when he entered the living room, now standing awkwardly before his mother and yourself.

“I uh” he cleared his throat, “I put your bags in your room.” He nodded and you returned it gratefully.

“Thank you.” He gave you a quick nod before his mom spoke.

“Come join us honey! I was just getting to know y/n.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze. “And admiring your beautiful boy here. What’s his middle name? Have you guys came up with one yet?”

You and Evan exchanged a quick glance before both shrugging.

“Not yet, haven’t really had time to think about it.” Evan said as he finally made his way to where you were sat, sitting in the chair next to you and leaning over your arms to Joey who still laid sleeping peacefully.

“What’s your middle name?” You suddenly asked, looking at him already when he glanced up at you. He studied your eyes for a moment then glanced at his mom.

“Thomas.” He finally answered, your eyes lighting up at the coincidence.

“My grandpas name was Thomas. We called him Grampa Tommy though.” You smiled and Julie leaned in over your shoulders, you shorting a smile her way too.

“Thomas is a great name, if I do say so myself.” She raised her eyebrows proudly, both you and Evan giggling lightly before you nodded.

“It is. Joey Thomas y/l/n - Peters. What do you think?” You looked back to Evan for his opinion, personally liking the sound of it yourself. You could tell he was genuinely excited for his son to be named after him, and that it was you who’d suggested it.

“Sounds perfect.”

“Great! It’s settled then!! My little Joey Thomas” Julie gleamed down at the small baby in your arms, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before she leaned her head against yours, you comfortably leaning yours against hers in return.

Your nerves were completely gone by this point, feeling one hundred percent comfortable in this moment with Evan and his mother. She was so kind, she didn’t seem to judge or care about where you came from or how Evan ended up impregnating you, she just accepted you as her grandchild’s mother, as a part of their family.

You wanted to thank her for raising such a great person, tell her how grateful you were that he wanted to bring you here to make it easier on you both and on Joey. That she’s an amazing mother and you’d be lucky to be half of a mother she was, considering the mother you had.

And it felt odd for you. Julie had taken it upon herself for the next week to take care of you and help you care for your child. She insisted considering your surgery and being a new mom. It was weird to take in, someone caring for you. You never had any mother figure after yours passed, and even before she was less than a quarter of a mom that Julie was being for you at this time. It felt nice, just something you weren’t used to. Every time you tried to object her doing something because you didn’t want her to have to do everything for you, she insisted and did it anyways. And 3 days later, you met Evan’s dad, Phil, who was just as kind as Julie. You understood then why Evan was the way he was, and it made you appreciate him even more.

You spent the next two weeks recovering and taking things slow and light, with the help of Evan and his lovely parents. But as quick as the time came, it passed, and you were saying your goodbyes to the kind couple.

“Don’t be a stranger now! You have my number, you call anytime for anything, got it? And send me all the pictures of Mr Joey!! Oh I’m going to miss him.” Julie sighed as she looked down at the baby in her arms, sad to be leaving him. You smiled sadly, but nodded at her requests more than happy to do so. “And don’t let Evan scare you away.” She then spoke squirrels near your ear careful not to let the men carrying the luggage out hear. “He can be good at that. He just needs someone to be patient with him is all.”

You blinked a few times are her words wondering where they came from or what she meant. She knew you and Evan weren’t together, so why did it matter if he scared you away? Why would she tell you he needs someone to be patient for him when it didn’t matter what you did, considering you weren’t a couple. Instead of objecting, however, you gave her a small smile and nod. She grinned wider at your compliance and wrapped you into a warm embrace which you happily returned. A quick squeeze later, she let you go and brought Joey to her face, kissing his soft head and hugging him to her gently. You watched, sad that she was leaving and allowing her all the time she needed. Soon, she handed Joey to you and waved one last goodbye before she and Phil left in the Taxi to the airport, leaving you and Evan standing in the driveway in silence.

When you looked over to Evan, you could see the glossy look in his eyes. Slowly making your way to him and placing your hand on his biceps and giving it a small squeeze, he glanced down at you and covered your small hand with his large one, appreciating the silent act.

“You’re parents are very kind people. It was really a pleasure to spend these last two weeks with them.” You spoke softly, both of your eyes out on the traffic just beyond the gates of his driveway. You felt his body shift from a sigh and he squeezed your hand before turning towards the house, careful to be sure you were following next to him.

“They’re great, really. I couldn’t have asked for better parents. Never gets any easier when they have to leave.” He stated, opening the front door for you and you walking inside, still cradling Joey.

“I’m sure it’s hard.” You sympathized the best you could, Evan only glancing at you a moment before nodding and walking in front of you so he could place a kiss on Joeys forehead. His eyes flickered up to yours as he straightened himself out, yours just gazing at him waiting for whatever he wanted to say to be said.

Instead, he nodded again and slid past you without saying anything more. You stood now, confused and wondering if you had said the wrong thing. Sympathizing about something you had no idea about was hard, you figured he understood that, but now you worried he needed more than what you gave him. “It’ll get easier” or “I’m sorry” didn’t seem like the right words, though you didn’t think it was as big of a deal as it obviously must’ve been. “

“It’s okay to feel sad” — that’s what you realized you should’ve said. You silently cursed yourself wishing being sympathetic came more naturally to you. You grew up on the hard realities of life and understanding that sympathy really doesn’t get you anywhere. But not everyone was like that, and you knew you had to be more understanding of others feelings, even if it made you uncomfortable.

You turned around on your heel to follow after him but saw him nowhere in your sight. You glanced down at Joey who was asleep and sighed lightly, making your way to your bedroom and placing him in his crib and after making sure he was safe and sound, you walked out of your room and made your way to Evan’s bedroom, sure that that’s where he had gone to.

His door was just barely cracked and his bed out of sight as well as him, so you hesitantly knocked softly hoping he would hear so you wouldn’t have to knock again. But with no reply, you let out a deeper sigh and knocked again, this time louder than before.

“Evan?” You called out as you opened his door carefully and peaked in. He was sat right in the middle of his bed flipping through channels on his TV. He never looked at you which hurt more than you’d expected, but you continued your way in and stopped a few feet from his bed, wrapping your arms around yourself nervously. This definitely wasn’t what you were expecting to happen with his parents departure.

“Evan?” You said again almost in a whisper. You had no idea why he was so seemingly upset at you. You knew and admitted you said the wrong thing but this was a bit uncalled for. “Evan I don’t… I’m not understanding what I did. I’m sorry for not being more… sympathetic?” You weren’t even sure what the word you were looking for was. Still, he didn’t look away from the television. “I can’t fix it unless you talk to me.”

Finally, his eyes flickered over to you and he held the most emotionless face you’d ever seen him wear. You stared at him not knowing whether to speak or stay silent until he did.

“My life isn’t easy just because I’m a celebrity, you know.” Your eyes nearly popped from your head when he stated that, wondering where it came from and what possibly made him believe you thought that. “I have my own struggles too. Things do get hard sometimes.”

“I’ve never said… I know you’re life isn’t easy.” You shifted your feet and tilted your head at him hoping he’d elaborate more.

“ ‘Must be hard’. “ he mocked your attempt in sympathizing with him and your mouth immediately dropped open. You knew you said the wrong thing, but hearing him say it made you realize how bad it actually sounded.

“I- no. No that’s not what I meant at all—“

“Not really sure how else to mean it.” He stated simply, looking back to the movie now playing while you stood there, your head scrambling for the right words.

“Evan..” you sighed and thankfully he glanced back at you, allowing you to continue. “I’m sorry, okay? That’s not how I meant it. It was.. it was my attempt to, i don’t know, console you? I dont know how to be there for someone for something I’ve never experienced. I don’t know what it’s like to miss someone the way I could tell you miss your parents.” You came forth with your explanation, ashamed of yourself for making him feel so bad, but also feeling a small sense of anger and hurt that he made the assumption before talking to you and hearing you out.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment obviously going over what you were saying in his head, but you continued before he could speak. “I would never believe such a thing and I honestly can’t believe you think I would.” You now folded your arms over your chest in defense and sent a small glare his way. “I would never invalidate anyone’s feelings even if I’m not great at consoling them. So I’m sorry you feel that way, and I’m sorry for not saying better words, but it would do you some good to talk to someone before assuming.”

You raised your eyebrows and took a silent best before turning to leave him alone in his room, but he called your name making you stop in your tracks.

“Wait wait” he now stood behind you, you turning to face him. Your jaw clenched in the process not sure if you want to continue the conversation but giving him the chance to speak out. “You’re right. I’m sorry. That was wrong on my part. It was just frustrating! All of this is frustrating.” He shook his head, his hands running through his hair stressfully.

“What is frustrating?”

“You!” Your eyebrows raised again this time in shock and confusion. What about you was frustrating? Everything has been great. You knew you were bound to run into mishaps but mishaps like this wasn’t what you were expecting.

“What about me?” You asked now in an equally exasperated tone, ready to once again defend yourself.

“It- you- I don’t know!” He stuttered, becoming more frustrated by the second while you stood your ground waiting for him to accuse you yet again of something. “All of this. All of this is frustrating. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Well I suppose that’s a you problem but don’t you dare take it out on me.” You spoke slowly now, immediately turning to walk out again but feeling Evan’s hand wrap around your arm and pull you back to face him. You were ready to lose it, having had enough of this pointless conversation, but instead you were silenced by Evan’s lips crashing onto yours.

It took you a second to comprehend what was happening, but the moment you did you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around him to pull him to you more. His hands went to your waist gripping them tightly to him as you both deepened the kiss.

You didn’t realize how sexually frustrated you were and quickly realized that that’s what he was meaning. He was sexually frustrated with you just like you him. And you both couldn’t hold it together any longer, holding and feeling every inch of the other now eagerly.

Evan backed you up until your back hit the wall, your mouth falling agape at the sudden sudden movement and Evan quickly allowed his tongue into your mouth, yours not standing a chance against his. Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging and pulling at the locks in need. You felt his hands lower from your waist scooping under your thighs and swiftly picking you up, your legs wrapping around his torso.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing hard kisses down your neck to your collar bone where he sucked and not harshly making a perfect little blue spot while your head fell back against the wall and your eyes fluttering shut at the pleasure you were feeling. It had been months since you’ve been intimate, and considering the last person it was with was the one who was marking you at this moment, it had your body weak and ready to feel him again.

He pulled away and quickly removed your shirt as well as his, his lips crashing back on to yours as he pulled you from the wall and carried you over to his bed, laying you down gently. You moved yourself back into the bed more, him crawling onto the bed over top of you, your eyes looking up at him through your lashes. You heard a small groan from him from just looking at you before he leant back down to meet your lips again, your hands finding either side of his face to hold him to you. You could feel yourself already dripping from the current situation unfolding, one you hadn’t expected to ever happen again yet here you were, desperate for whatever he wanted to do or give. You didn’t care, you just needed the painful pit in your stomach from the lack of sex to be released.

His lips trailed kisses to your ear again, sucking on a sensitive spot right behind it gaining him a small needy moan from you.

“Please” you said so quietly you weren’t even sure he’d heard, but he popped his head back up so he was looking down at you again, an obvious look of surprise filled in his eyes.

You looked back up at him wide eyed when you realized you just begged him, embarrassment filling you as you fumbled your words to try to explain.

“Please what?” He tilted his head, now wanting to play into this newfound begging kink. You just stared at him a moment unsure of what he was wanting but the lust his eyes held quickly answered your questions.

“Please fuck me.” You stated, your hands holding his face still. He felt himself grow harder at your desperation even though he felt equally desperate. His eyes scanned your face for a moment longer before he leaned down for what you were expecting to be another kiss, but instead he bit onto your bottom lip and held it between his teeth as he fumbled with his pants, removing them and his boxers all while you kept your eyes on his as your lip was held between his teeth, painfully turning you on more.

He released it and his eyes lingered on yours before you felt his hands on your hips, slowly finding their way to your pants and unbuttoning them. You lifted your hips from the bed to allow him to pull them down your legs painfully slow, taking your panties with and now leaving you only in your bra. He tossed your pants somewhere before spreading your legs catching you by surprise. You lifted your head so you could watch him, his fingers trailing slowly up your thighs before he placed his thumb right on your clit earning a gasp from you.

He smiled to himself and began rubbing gentle circles repetitively, your eyes shutting and your head falling back against the bed as you indulged in the pleasure. He then slipped a finger into you, your head shooting back up as another gasp left your lips, your eyebrows furrowed eagerly for more. He started out pumping into you slowly, fastening each passing moment. Strings of your moans filled his ears causing his own eyes to close at the beautiful sound that only pushed him to finger fuck you harder while continuing to play with your sensitive bud.

Your hands grasped onto the blanket, squeezing and releasing over and over again as he pushed you closer and closer to your climax. You moaned louder as you felt it pooling and ready to be let go of at any moment.

“I’m gonna… cum.. Evan” you breathed out between moans and breaths, your hands flying to your face as you attempted to hold it in.

“Cum for me baby” he granted, his words so low that they alone pushed you over the edge, your back arching from the bed as you orgasmed while Evan continued fingering you through it.

“F-fuck” you stuttered breathlessly, your eyes closed as you came down. Evan lifted himself so he was back over top of you, his lips lowering back to yours for a much more gently tender kiss.

“So good.. for me” he breathed out against your lips, your hips bucking up against him from his words. “So needy for me to fuck you” he hummed, one of his hands holding up on one side of your face while his other traced down your body and found its way between the two of you and grabbing ahold of his dick. You waited impatiently for him to enter you, your hands reaching up to grab his face and pull him to you again in a more passionate kiss. You felt him slide his dick between your glistening folds, humming against his lips response before taking his lips on yours again.

A moment later, he finally lined himself up at your entrance, still kissing you hard, before sliding in stretching you out. You couldn’t control the loud moan that made you pull yourself from his lips, sucking in a sharp breath as he pulled himself completely back out before sliding back in much harder this time. You both moaned in unison, his head falling back as he continued thrusting in and out of you. Your hands gripped onto his shoulder tightly, attempting to control the moans that wanted to be released.

“Fuck… yes” he groaned, dipping his head into the crook of your neck while you then wrapped your arms around him, your nails soon digging into his back as he sped up and allowed himself to fuck you harder. He wrapped one of his arms underneath you and pulled you up into him, holding you in place while thrusting harder allowing him to bottom out, hitting your g spot.

You lifted your hips into him to make it easier, both of you so desperate to be fucked as hard as you could after going so long without being fucked. You were both so lost in each others hold and bodies, your faces so close to each breath, moan and gasp was heard perfectly, a beautiful harmony in the others ear.

Without warning, Evan gripped you tighter to him and flipped you around in one swift motion so you were now straddling him. He pulled you to him and held you there as he thrusted up into you now hitting a new spot and becoming so weak at the new feeling that you were practically limp in Evan’s arms. Once regaining control of yourself, you bucked your hips into his every thrust in a perfect rhythm.

“Yeah, just like that” he encouraged you to continue, making you speed up and harshen your bucks, small moans escaping from you with each one. His eyes fluttered shut, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling of you fucking him now, feeling himself getting close now. “You’re gonna.. make me cum” he admitted, only fueling your confidence and need to satisfy him. You sped up as much as you could, bounding on him at this point after pushing yourself from his chest so you were straightened on top of him.

He quickly pushed himself up, his arms reaching behind you and unclasping your bra allowing it to fall and for your tits to bounce perfectly, his hands immediately grasping onto both, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples to stimulate you more. Your head fell back, feeling your hair against your bare back, your hands placed on your thighs to keep you balanced. You wanted nothing more than to make him cum while underneath you, feeling like you had all the control at this moment. You began moving your hips in circles after every bounce in an attempt to give him more pleasure, his moans telling you that you’ve succeeded. You smiled to yourself at his sounds, feeling his hips and legs begin to shake underneath of you.

“Fuck, fuck I’m gonna cum… I’m cumming” he groaned, quickly gripping onto your hips and slamming you down on him, holding you in place as he released himself in you. He let out breathy curses as you watched him in awe, beginning to grind on him as his grip loosened up, the friction from grinding giving you what you needed to push yourself over the edge again, your fingers quickly finding their way to your pussy to play with your clit for more stimulation. Evans eyes opened and landed on you, now watching in awe as you used his dick and your fingers to reach your second orgasm, gasping once you’ve reached the high and falling forward on to him as it took over your body. He held you while you both came down, only the sound of heavy breaths being heard.

A few minutes of silence passed before either of you said anything or moved, his dick still inside of you. You regained control of your breathing, finally lifting your head to gaze down at him, his eyes looking up to meet yours. You were so fucked out, but began questioning yourself on what this was or what it meant.

“What is it?” Evans quiet voice filled the silence, being able to see the new conflicted face you held. Your eyebrows pressed themselves together as you thought whether it was a good idea to ask what you wanted to, but before you could, the sounds of Joey beginning to cry made you both look up and over at the door.

You cleared your throat and looked back down at him, finally shaking your head and just shooting him a quick smile. “Nothing. Um, I’m gonna go..” you nodded your head towards the door, him nodding in response as he carefully helped you off if him and watching you quickly gather your belongings, throwing your shirt on not bothering with your bra and pulling your pants up.

You made your way to the door, stopping to glance back at Evan who was now dressing himself. You pressed your lips together, confusion filling your every emotion, before blinking to yourself and walking out of his room.

—

Tags: @demxnicprxncess @quicksilversg1rl @evanpetersfav @kylespencersvocalcords @evanpetersmood @totta69 @ava1262 @1109oo @laynna-mcknight @jjamesstar @yes-divine-ruler @littledreamybeth @bxbyalixo @mraes @prettywhenwedie @officially-em @liltimmytimx

307 notes · View notes

fitrahgolden · 4 months

Text

WEARY MEMORY: 11 - ONE MEMORY THAT I CHOOSE TO CARRY

[NOTE: CW - Pregnancy, discussions of birth control and postpartum depression, and non-graphic depictions of early stage labour (no complications).]

Anthony sat bolt upright, mouth agape. Kate sat up as well, facing him on her knees. When several moments passed without him saying anything, she grew concerned.

“Anthony?”

“You’re pregnant?”

She exhaled. “Yes.”

“Wha… When did you find out?”

“Yesterday. Well, Monday, technically. I’ve been taking tests all week. I took the last one yesterday.”

Anthony fell silent again and Kate grabbed his hands and intertwined their fingers.

“What do you want to do?” It seemed as if it took all his strength to push the question out. He slowly looked up at her. “Are you happy about this?”

Kate bit her lip as she thought. “The first couple of days, all I could feel was shock, honestly. I definitely wasn't expecting to win this kind of lottery.” She chuckled wryly at the thought of being one of the less than one percent of people with an IUD who get pregnant. “I just kept taking tests. And thinking about us. Thinking about the kids. Adding a baby to all this change we're going through, it's…a lot, to say the very least.”

“Yeah,” Anthony whispered, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.

“And then…” she took a deep breath.

“You thought about what happened after Kav.”

Kate nodded.

“You're scared it's going to happen again?”

“Yeah.” A few moments passed before she spoke again, with more confidence. “So, I called my therapist, got back in touch with my psychiatrist, and read a shit ton about PPD after subsequent pregnancies.”

“Good.” Anthony nodded. “That’s good. Did that help?”

Kate shifted forward so she could sit on his lap. “It helped. It's helping. We could handle it. If it happens, I could handle it. We'd know the signs this time. We'd know which treatments worked for me before.” She pet his cheek. “It may not even happen,” she said quietly, with hope.

Anthony pressed his eyes shut as he rested his forehead to Kate's. “Does that mean you want this, Kit?”

Kate gave him a quick kiss. “I want this, Anthony. But not if I'm alone in that.” She looked into his eyes, the unasked question hanging between them.

“You aren't alone.”

“So, you…”

“I want to have another baby with you. We can do this.”

“We can do this,” she echoed.

“And we're going to do this.”

“We are.”

“We're having a baby.”

Kate giggled. “Yes.”

“Holy shit.” Anthony wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight. He rocked them from side to side as he kissed her hair.

Kate turned to look at him and pointed a finger to his chest. “This is the last time, Bridgerton. You must have inherited your father's fertility, and I am not having eight children. We apparently need a second line of defence. So, I'm going to need you to take care of that after this baby is born.”

“I will, I promise.” He was smirking.

“Ugh, you do not get to be smug about this.” She climbed off of him and laid down.

“I bested an IUD!”

“I hate you.”

“I don't think you do, Kit.” Anthony snuggled in behind her. “You're having my love child.”

“The absolute nerve, going against science like that,” she mumbled. “It's just plain rude, is what it is.”

—

After Kate told Anthony, they basically had no choice but to tell everyone else right away. It was as though saying the words out loud was all her body needed to start looking pregnant. Not that it was terribly surprising that she was showing so early. It was her fourth child, after all.

Telling the kids went relatively smoothly. Kaveri thanked her parents for giving her a baby. Maaran's only concern seemed to be keeping his room. Edmund was the biggest surprise. He hadn't said much of anything when everyone was gathered together in the living room, but later that night, there was a knock on their bedroom door. Edmund wanted to let them know in private that he loved being a big brother, and he was excited to have another sibling to take care of. Kate burst into tears, and Anthony tried his best to convince their son that she was happy.

—

Anthony stood in his blue suit underneath a tent next to the pond on his family’s property in Kent. Maaran stood to his left in coordinating blues, chest puffed up with the pride of being his father’s best man. He looked out in front of him at the small gathering of only their closest friends and family. It was perfect. Or, it would be soon. Three very important people were yet to join them.

Kate had been adamant about having the wedding during her second trimester. After she stopped feeling ill all the time, but before she was too annoyed with still being pregnant to be particularly good company.

Anthony’s jaw ticked with restlessness, but immediately relaxed again as he gasped. Kaveri skipped into the tent, a basket of flower petals in hand. He watched his soon to be second youngest as she paused at the opposite end of the aisle and primly fluffed her poofy white dress. ”If you can’t see Amma’s dress yet because it’s too special, you can’t see mine, either, Dad.” She gave herself a pep talk that was no doubt for her ears only before pointing to her cousin Auggie, who was in charge of the music. Auggie gave her a thumbs up and dutifully skipped to the next track. Finally, Kaveri danced down the aisle, twirling as she dramatically threw petals. About ninety percent of them landed on the wedding guests instead of the ground. Once she got to the front she threw more directly at Maaran, Anthony, and the officiant. Anthony was grateful for a reason to laugh to save himself from crying. He picked his daughter up, meaning to give her a kiss, but received a raspberry from her instead. He set Kaveri down, and she ran to her Paatti Mary to drop off her basket before assuming her second role as maid of honour, standing opposite her father and brother.

“I did really good!” she cheered.

Well, that did it. The first tear fell as Anthony nodded at her and put a finger up to his mouth. Kaveri paid no heed.

“Dad, look! She’s coming!”

Anthony’s stomach dropped before he even looked back down the aisle. Once he did, he was certain staying upright throughout the ceremony wasn’t going to be an easy feat.

Edmund, looking nervous but determined in his own blue suit, moved down the aisle. And on his arm was Kate, kissing her son on the cheek and whispering something to him, before looking ahead, meeting Anthony’s gaze. She looked amazing–and ridiculously out of his league–in a floor length form fitting lace gown. Her hair was down, at his request, and she wore a crown of flowers that matched Kaveri’s.

The walk seemed to take an eternity, but finally, she was in front of him. Ned held out his hand for Anthony to shake. He grabbed it and pulled his son in for a tight hug.

“I love you, Ned.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

At least Edmund was crying, too.

Anthony looked to Kate again as their son joined their hands before taking his place on the other side of Maaran.

“Hello, Mrs. Sharma-Bridgerton.”

“Uh-uh. I'm Ms. for about ten more minutes.” Kate reached up and thumbed away his tears.

Anthony placed a hand on her bump, “Are you alri–?”

“Anthony…” Kate warned. “Not right now. You promised a week of no hovering.”

“Right.” He took a deep breath, grasping both her hands. “You’re my home, Kate,” he whispered. “Thank you for letting me back in.”

“Should you have saved that for the vows?” she teased.

“No,” he said simply. “That part was just for you.”

—

After tea was the dancing Kaveri demanded. By the evening, the last of their family and guests had left, and Anthony and Kate officially started their honeymoon–a child free week alone at Aubrey Hall.

—

“Is this OK? Do you need anything right now?”

“No, don't go anywhere.”

Kate was leaning forward into Anthony's embrace, resting her head on his chest as she swayed from side to side on the birthing ball she was straddling. They'd arrived at the birthing centre five hours ago, leaving Edmund with instructions to call either of his grandmothers if he or his siblings needed anything.

“What the fuck is taking her so long? Your mum had me believing she'd just shoot right out of me as soon as the contractions started. She claimed that’s what happened with Daphne.”

Anthony grimaced. “Lovely visual.”

“Shut up.”

Kate fisted Anthony's shirt with both hands as she keened through another contraction. Anthony rocked with her and rubbed her back while he looked at his watch.

“Fucking hell,” she gasped as it passed. “That had to be sixty seconds.”

“Only about forty, I'm afraid,” Anthony said with a wince.

“Surely that's close enough.”

“Not according to our midwife.”

“Well, who put him in charge?”

“You did, love.”

“Oh, right. He's quite lovely and more than competent, actually.”

“He really is.”

Kate sucked her teeth. “Still. I swear to God, Mary Violet Sharma-Bridgerton. You'd better be here by tonight.”

“Or what?”

There was a long pause before Kate muttered in Tamil, punctuated by another “Shut up.”

Within a few minutes, another contraction started. Kate whimpered into Anthony's shoulder.

“Do you want to bounce? Let's try bouncing.”

“Alright,” Kate groaned, following Anthony's up and down movements.

“Well done, Kit. And that was forty six seconds, as well!”

Kate smiled weakly and resumed swaying.

“I never stopped being in love with you, Anthony.” Kate's voice sounded far away.

“Kit?”

“I'm alright. Just going to my happy place. You're there. It's just you and me. Don't tell Kav.”

They stayed silent for a while, Anthony massaging Kate's hips as she rolled them in circles.

“I never stopped being in love with you, either, Kit.”

“I think we just misplaced it in all of the mess.”

“Yeah.” Anthony kissed her forehead.

“Let's keep better track of it this time.”

Anthony backed up just enough to look Kate in the eye.

“Kathani Kaveri Sharma-Bridgerton, I promise you that we will never lose track of each other again.”

[NOTE: Thank you to everyone who read this. Keep an eye out for a one shot in this universe coming soon.]

22 notes · View notes

fandom-18 · 2 years

Text

Broken picture with a perfect frame

Request: Can I get some angst between Stolas x wife! Reader? Perhaps a one-sided love and angst?

The reader is not like Stella and since they met (y/n) loves Stolas. But Stolas only sees her as nothing more but a conceiver an heir to the Goetia family.

She tries to be a good mother and a wife to Stolas even though she knew about the affair and some demons tormented her with harsh rumors.

This (y/n) really did suffer and she was trying to keep her family down even its already broken? She loved Octavia dearly and its kinda sad that her husband doesn’t even love her back.

Warnings: angst, curses

Includes: Stolas, y/n

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

Requested by @oyasumimosura

Being from a noble family had lots of benefits: fame, money, power. But it also brought lots of pain.

Even since you were born, your whole life has been planned by your parents. You knew about it, and still kept your head high, and your smile shining.

Arranged marriage wasn't uncommon between nobels, it was almost as natural as breathing. Yet, it didn't make it hurt any less.

Ever since you turned 5, you knew the day would come. But you were always full of hope that maybe your husband won't be too bad and, if you're lucky, your marriage will be full of love.

Stolas was charming and intelligent, beautiful and powerful - a dream of many. You were ready to worship whatever deity made him your husband. Your parents made you spend time with each other before your wedding. And the more he was with you, the more you began to fall for him.

But fate has never been on your side

Hcs

You've been married to Stolas for a long time. It was ok, not bad yet could be better.

Your daughter Octavia, who you sometimes call your little star, turned 17 a few months ago. Yesterday was the anniversary of your marriage and there was a big party. Being with someone who doesn't love you back is hard, but you still tried to make it work. Although it would definitely be harder after what happened this morning.

You're been drinking tea with your friends in the garden of your home, when suddenly an imp fell from above and landed on your cake

'Sorry, I fucked your husband'

You could understand that he didn't feel the same and didn't want to be in an arranged marriage. You two were in the same boat. But he could at least stay faithful and not sleep with someone he hasn't seen for years. You were in literal Hell, but still.

It was the last straw for you

He may not love you the way you do but you still had basic self-respect. So you packed your things and went to one of your family mansions. You needed time to think about your next actions. Especially how it will effect Octavia. She's your daughter and you love her with all your heart, but you don't want to make her choose one parent over the other one.

No matter how much you love him, you can't put up with everything he does. The road ahead of you is unknown and definitely not easy, but you're ready to fight to become happy. Even if it includes breaking your heart even more.

Notes: Well, finished! I'm not sure how I feel about it, but it's a start. Hope you like it) Comments and recommendations on how I can improve would be appreciated

#hcs #helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #angst #stolas #stolas x reader #request #requests

644 notes · View notes

fractured-shield · 6 days

Text

WIP excerpt tag

Rules: Post some writing!

thanks for the tag @honeybewrites! here's something from my kind of sort of edited chapter 4:

One copper could buy some of the sweetest pastries on the market-street, even the large ones that she could share with Oenith and Condel tomorrow. Of course, now she had to choose between them.

She was trying to decide between a custard pie and a tart with fig filling when she was distracted by the sound of someone behind her speaking Cenaith. Therien turned quickly, looking at the crowd with wide eyes as she tried to place the voice—no, voices, at least two, and post-war Cenaith at that: variations on the mixed dialects found on young elves born after the old kingdoms’ remnants had blended together into Tarnuvin and Lauthein.

It didn’t take her long to find the two of them—one with tidy red curls wearing the white and crimson of Lauthein, and the other with black jaw-length hair in the grey and brown of Tarnuvin.

“Um—sorry, I—”

Therien probably should have expected them to stop their conversation short to look at her, but the intensity of their surprise to hear her speaking Cenaith was a bit intimidating. She stopped short, flushing nervously.

“Oh!” The dark-haired one said after a moment, lighting up with a grin of recognition. “Oh, you’re Therien, aren’t you?” They looked to the redhead and explained, “That’s councillor Idhren’s daughter.”

“Um,” Therien said again. She thought for a moment, as hard as she could, but still couldn’t find their name among the vague memories of junior councillors older than her, the ones who studied or worked as scribes while she and Oenith and the rest read books or fought with wooden swords and sticks. “Sorry, I don’t—”

“Aestarn,” they pointed to themself. “And don’t worry about it. You wouldn’t have seen me around, I didn’t travel for councils until a few years ago, and I wasn’t officially studying under your father until then either.”

“Really?” The other gave a curious frown—and hurried to introduce himself as Veor, before looking back to Aestarn. “I would’ve guessed it had been longer. I didn’t get to travel for a council until after five years with my mentors.”

“Ah, well,” they shrugged, and moved next to Therien to look at the pastries. “He wasn’t really taking on students for a while there. —Have you tried these before? Are they good?”

Therien shrugged at the last part, directed at her, and decided on a honey cake instead of either the custard pie or the fig tart. It would stay fresh longer, and she wanted to share it with Oenith and Condel. “Never tried them. Couldn’t you have worked under Rosmorn or Aina?”

Aestarn reached into their pocket for a coin of their own, and fussed over the button for a moment as they answered. “Sure, and miss my chance to learn from the war-council mediator? The only Alliance councillor from the Western Expanse? I wanted to research the geopolitics of territory shifts in the last war and western trade routes were crucial to that. It was worth the wait.”

She’d never thought about it that way before. To her, he was just her papa, and none of it seemed particularly significant or impressive, because it was just him. It wasn’t surprising that he’d wanted Aestarn to wait a few years, after her mother’s death, but the fact that Aestarn and Veor spoke about it like it was common knowledge—

How much do I not know about what happened after I left? And—

And Aestarn had been in the market yesterday. She flushed redder as soon as she realized it, and hoped that they wouldn’t bring it up.

Everyone saw me make a fool of myself, didn’t they?

“Doesn’t the second meeting of the day start soon?” She said instead.

“It does,” Veor cut in, trying to direct Aestarn’s attention away from the shop. He squinted at the sun for a moment. “We have a little time left, but they wanted to use the recess to see the market.”

“You wanted to look at jewelry! You said, ‘Ridanna earrings are in style right now, and the stone quality is nicer than we see imported to Lauthein—’”

Therien found herself laughing at the two junior-councillors’ antics. She turned back towards the shop to purchase a small honey-cake as they continued their teasing, then moved out of the way. The cake was wrapped securely in paper. She crumbled a bit off one side, then folded it back into the wrapping and stuffed it into her pocket.

She watched Veor and Aestarn’s playful arguing until she’d finished the bite of pastry. It was good, dense and fresh-tasting and so sweet and—no, that was childish, she didn’t like sweet foods that much. She’d only gotten it to share with Oenith and Condel, and only because the two councillors were there as well.

“So, what did—” she interrupted to catch their attention. Aestarn wrestled with the too-tight buttonhole on their pocket again, trying to put their coin back inside it. She tried again. “What did the Council say about the riots yesterday? I still haven’t heard the truth, only rumors.”

And only what her father and Hal had told her. If she was going to help, she had to know more.

tagging @bonniewame @themboty @runner-owen if you want to join, and anyone else who wants to jump in!

#fractured shield #fractured shield trilogy #writblr #excerpt #my writing #my ocs #fantasy writing #writers on tumblr #tag game

11 notes · View notes

karin-gespenst · 4 months

Text

Season 13 episode 3 attempt at coherent thoughts

twenty minutes ago I finished watching the episode and I'm still not done wiping my eyes.

I'll try to talk about those parts first that weren't too sad. Maybe that'll help me calm down.

When they said they wanted to try and turn the Baxter-Baby around I was surprised. So far they only tried to turn babies if they were neither head-down nor arse-first. I know that turning breech-babies is a thing and people will try all kinds of methods early on to avoid breech-births if possible. It has just not been presented as a big issue on the show before. I was born breech in 1985, nobody ever mentioned anything about trying to turn me, because most of the time they had spent trying to keep me from being born prematurely. So the breech part was the least of anyones worries.

Does anyone else think it's funny that the most competent person they have for the baby-turning-task is called Turner? Shelagh was already the most competent person when she went by another name, but in these cases the surname really fits. Phyllis does a lot of lifting people up when they need it, so her being called Crane is appropriate as well. :-)

Seeing baby Stephanie being carried in a baby wrap made me smile. Apart from being convenient, it's so cuddly and cosy. When my kid was a baby we carried her a lot and she loved it. There's a rainbow babywrap waiting in my closet for the day when my kid decides she wants to use it.

Big yes for Reggie getting a wage! Took them long enough to come up with the idea. He's wonderful in this episode, really stepping into the role of the grown up son.

I wanted to smack that agent woman when she came to visit the Baxters. so rude!

It's a theme for Phyllis to recognize a baby with problems just by looking at them. She saw that baby Robert showed signs of Down's Syndrome, and now she saw the leg problem and calmly got Dr T to make sure it got treated right away. Her experience is a treasure and I'm glad she is still on the show. On the other hand I would love to see her and Millicent in their retirement, making merry and having a laugh.

Matthew being the backup for Violet was a good idea. They share the ability to see the bigger picture and the need to have people in charge who can tone down their ego. That room full of suits had the right idea in the end, and it took only two speeches from Violet that weren't even that long. I'm looking forward to see what she can do with the position of mayor.

Did everyone go check their vaccination records? my tetanus jab was three years ago, but I could not have told without looking it up. That was a quadruple shot with Diptheria and polio and pertussis. The latter one was really nasty when I had it as a child. Yesterday I talked to my GP about getting the COVID booster, and I hope I can get that one soon.

#call the midwife #call the midwife spoilers

15 notes · View notes

carpehistoryandthepens · 2 months

Text

Legacy (what is a legacy?) Part 11

It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me

Hamilton, the world was wide enough. LMM.

one, two, three, four, Five, six seven, eight, nine, ten

Summary: Mike is 13. Born May 2009. Sid didn’t know he had a son. All Mike had was hope and a prayer for his and his half-sister’s safety.

(Sid is a dad of a teen he didn’t know about AU) Sidgeno.

Warnings: (for the total story) post-child abuse (all off-screen but it affects things and is spoken about often), learning how to parent, panic attacks, anxiety, based on last season, OCs?, realization about sexuality. Post breakups. Desperate lack of in-depth research for CPS in both PA/CA, melodrama?, kidfic, angst, slowburn, playing fast and loose with the law for drama/storytelling purposes.

Zhenya woke up the next morning feeling quite different than he did the day before. He crashed out on Sid's very comfortable couch. That much he was sure of, but he wasn't sure of anything else.

He could hear the soft voices of his family in the background of his fuzzy mind. Zhenya followed the sounds until he sat up from the couch and looked around. The room was just as fuzzy as his brain. He reached out to the small coffee table to find his glasses. Most of his contacts were in the house; the trainers had a few of his prescriptions at the rink, but his glasses would work for now.

Once he could see, Zhenya could hear voices. It seemed he was the last one to wake. Anna was in the kitchen, quietly talking to Sid and making breakfast. Mike entertained Nikita and Marisol at the table, quietly working on Nikita's homework with him.

Sid noticed wake him first. "Geno! Good morning!" he greeted in Russian.

Anna hid her snort in her coffee at his accent. She always found Sid's very heavy accent delightful.

Sid shot her back a mock glare, not really upset. He is always up to be chripped by his friends and teammates.

Zhenya stared at him blearily, hoping to remember why things were so different. It usually took him a few moments to turn on his brain entirely after waking up. Then it all came back to him: the house, the gas leak, Sid's offer of his home.

Zhenya signed and sank back onto the couch. "Good morning," He replied back.

"Morning, Papa!" Nikita practically yelled from the table after hearing Zhenya's voice.

There was an extra bedroom free, but to be honest, after the day he had yesterday, he sat down at the end of the night and fell asleep. At least, that's what he's assuming happened since there was a blanket draped over him and a pillow under his head.

Mike glanced between them back and forth for a moment before asking, "Dobroye?" he botched the pronunciation.

Sid turned red. "It means 'good morning' in Russian."

"You speak Russian?" Mike asked, puzzled.

Zhenya answered for him because Sid didn't know how to answer that question correctly. "Badly. Sid speaks Russian badly."

Sid laughed. "I've been learning since we were, what, 19? 20? So, I'm rather ok with it. Not perfect, but ok."

"Bad." Anna agreed with Zhenya, smirking at Sid. "But it's cute anyway."

Sid sent her a mock, wounded look.

Mike nodded, sending them a weary look before returning to the homework Nikita had just brandished at him.

After everyone had all been fed, the day started officially. The adults met up in the kitchen to talk while the kids stayed at the dining room table. Zhenya made sure to steal the best chair from Sid – the one with a good back. His back let him know he was too old to spend the night on the couch after a day at training camp – he would need to have a trainer look at him before they started to skate.

"So, what's the plan?" Sid asked, looking between Anna and Zhenya.

Anna tossed her hair back as she stared at her phone; the calendar app pulled up. "I leave in three days to Miami for a photo shoot." Her conflicted feelings toward leaving Nikita behind and being able to go back to work were written all over her face.

Their shared calendar is now more of a Nikita Calendar. Zhenya fished out his phone and checked his own sechdual. Just practices and a few sponsorship commitments. Another meeting with Goorin bros about his hats.

"Three days, eh?" Sid said, leaning back on the countertop, consideringly. "If you guys need to stay that long, it's fine."

Zhenya frowned. "What if the house takes longer?" He felt that his home would take much, much longer. Anna agreed with a frustrated sigh.

"I don't mind guests." Sid shrugged as if it wasn't that big of a deal. "Mike and Marisol also say they are fine. They know you, Geno, and don't seem to mind Nikita."

Zhenya and Anna shared a speaking glance; this was Sid's inexperience at parenting showing through. He didn't know for sure if that would be ok with Mike and Marisol; he took them at their word instead of thinking the whole situation through.

Still, it was better than moving Nikita into a hotel for a few days. One reason they wanted to have Nikita start school was to have a more stable life rather than one that had him flying around the country several times a month.

"How about you stay with Sid for a few more days after I leave, if it comes to that?" Anna suggested in Russian, sounding done with trying to make things make sense in English.

Zhenya sighed. He had been sighing a lot in the past few days.

Sid agreed with little prompting, "I'm sure we can figure out what to do next. Come on. It's time for camp." Sid's complete acceptance to have them over as long-term house guests didn't surprise Zhenya. Sid loved having company over as long as they were close to him.

Four days later, Mike watched the adults in the room try to argue over his case without really arguing. Mike was already finding it hard to breathe; he wondered if anyone else was having problems, too. He fiddled with his shaker bottle while twisting back and forth in the spinny chair. The metal ball was long lost, but the plastic loop was on top, which was a good thing to do with his hands.

Mr. Brisson was arguing with Helena over something at the other end of the conference table. Mike tried not to pay attention to them; it was related to him and Marisol.

Sid was talking to Marisol, Ms. Jen, and Sully.

They were in a conference room, and it felt like everyone was there for some reason. Mike wasn't sure why so many people needed to be there. There were so many people in the office that Mike was surprised there was room to breathe.

The babble in the room grew louder as each new person ducked in. Mike couldn't make out any conversations, but it was still becoming rapidly overwhelming. He couldn't really make out what was being said anymore. He needed to leave, to get out of the room, but he couldn't. Marisol was still here.

"If that's what Sid wants, then that's what he'll get!" Mr. Brisson's voice cut through the chatter, and the rest of the room fell silent, watching the man.

Helena glared at him, not backing down, "It's not just about what Sidney Crosby wants here!" Mike was sure that she meant it differently, but most of the Penguin's employees looked mildly scandalized by that statement. "It's what's best for Mike and Marisol!"

Mike wasn't sure what to make of Mr. Brisson. They had met very shortly a few days ago, and Brisson had taken one look at him, nodded, proclaimed that he believed Sid, and disappeared shortly afterward.

Marisol pushed herself into Mike's side, upset at the yelling. Cynthia and Rodger both had done that a lot, at each other, at Mike, at Marisol, at random strangers, and once at Mike's overwhelmed science teacher for daring to ask how was Mike's home life. Mike held onto Marisol's hand tightly.

He reminded himself that they hadn't been separated. That was the most important thing. They were together, and Marisol was safe. Mike hadn't spent longer than a few moments separated from his sister since they had run away, and he didn't want to know what that was like. He already had to fight a tight feeling in his chest when he was separated from Marisol for as long as it took him to go to the bathroom.

The results of the paternity test weren't back yet. Hopefully, if the test said Sid wasn't his father, Helena could keep them together anyway.

God, Mike hoped that Sid was his father, like he thought.

"You think Sid isn't thinking about that?" Brisson snorted.

"It doesn't matter what you or Mr Crosby thinks. It's what's right for them. We need to figure this out now," Helena said. "I need to talk to Mr Crosby and not his agent."

Sid looked a little sheepish. "Agents always help. Them and lawyers."

"That may be how it works with hockey, but this is children's lives we are talking about," Helena said, trying to sound patient, but to Mike's ears, she failed.

Marisol climbed onto his lap. Mike slowly rubbed up and down her back until she had calmed down more.

Sidney's lawyer, whom Mike hadn't met yet, entered the room as the last person they were waiting for. She struck Mike as a no-nonsense sort of woman.

The meeting started in earnest. It was about getting long-term plans started for Mike and Marisol. Helena was not happy that the pens organization would be so involved that they had two separate people in the room as representatives. Sid was confused as to why they wouldn't be. Brisson was very good at making sure Sid's interests were represented. Sid's lawyer just took notes and listened.

Mike listened for a while and answered questions when they needed it, which wasn't often, to be honest, surprising for a meeting that was about him. Mike had to make it clear to Helena and Sid that he wanted Marisol to be safe first and foremost, but he didn't want either of them to return to their Aunt's house afterward.

When pressed, Mike didn't have anything else he wanted.

"Is this what you want?" Helena asked. After Mike had answered the questions, Sid's lawyer took many notes, and a lot of discussion went over Mike's head. There were lots of forms and laws, and some quick comparisons to California and PA law.

At first, Mike thought she was asking Sid, but she met Mike's gaze evenly, and Mike realized that the rest of the room was waiting for him.

They were all waiting for him.

Mike took a deep breath. Was this what he wanted? Mike had been moving on instinct for so long, just trying to protect Marisol.

Sid reached over and briefly squeezed Mike's shoulder in reassurance. It was something their papa used to do—not that Sid would have known that—and it made Mike feel stronger.

He could do this.

"Yes," he said, tightening his grip on Marisol's hand. She squeezed back just as tightly, knowing this moment was important. "This is what I want."

The office was immensely filled with noise. Ms. Jen and Mr. Brisson started discussing plans and what to do next. There were questions about health care and education. Mike was a little overwhelmed with how fast the conversation seemed to go.

"So, they can stay with me?" Sid suddenly asked, bringing silence to the room. "Both of them?"

Helena nodded, reading over the paperwork the lawyer had filled out, "Yes. For now, at least, I see no reason to move them. Marisol is Michael's half-sister.

"Do you want to stay?" Sid asked Mike, ignoring the rest of the room. "We can deal with everything that comes later, but I want to know if you want to stay. If the last week has shown you this isn't the place to be, I will find you and Marisol a better place. But. I would like you to stay."

Mike stared at him. A million things ran through his mind. In the corner of his eye, Helena looked approvingly at sid for the first time since the meeting started.

This was what he wanted, right?

Sid asked for an honest answer. That's what he wanted. Mike looked down at Marisol – who was staring up at him with wide eyes. Marisol was safe here. Sid made sure of that. They both got to eat what they wanted and could sleep through the night without fear.

Marisol wanted to stay. She liked it here.

She had never seen snow. It snows in Pittsburgh, right? That's a thing that happens in places that aren't Southern California by the Pacific Ocean.

Mike wanted to stay.

He wanted to stay with the man who might be his biological father. He wanted to stay with Sid, who was obsessed with hockey as Mike was, who laughed and snorted, who spoke Russian, and that morning had turned on a Telemundo version of Sesame Street for Marisol, and Mike heard him muttering some of the basic words under his breath. Mike wanted to stay with Sid, who was asking about his school options rather than telling him where he was going.

Mike wanted to stay with the man who had seen the bruises from his Aunt and her husband and looked horrified and like he wanted to fight a man simultaneously.

Mike wanted to stay with the person who had very gently asked if he could get a few of the photos printed from Mike's phone so they could hang pictures of their parents and family up in the room Mike and Marisol shared.

Mike wanted to stay with the person who, so far, hadn't tried to make either of them feel weak, broken, or stupid for their choices.

Mike wanted to stay with the man right then, who looked like he would accept any answer Mike gave, but it would break his heart if they left.

Mike nodded slowly but firmly. "I want to stay."

"Me too!" Marisol said. "I want to stay too!"

The fear on Sid's face faded away, and he hugged them both.

Mike hadn't felt safe like that in months. No, that wasn't entirely right. He hadn't felt loved like that in months.

Mike hugged back just as tightly.

#'sid has a teen he didn't know about' au #sidgeno #8771 #i write?#this will take a while to write #working title: Legacy (what is a legacy?)

12 notes · View notes