#i had never heard him so readily go 'fuck yeah lets go i love the rain!' in character

[erodedlight]

i TRULY need to either commission someone the "dancing in the rain" scene between arthur and alexios, or draw it myself

[neteyamslovrr]

KXANI - FINAL

summary: you have never fit in with the scientists, but on the night jake was lost in the forest so were you. staying with the people was your one true dream, yet when you are anything but welcome and jake get's to experience the people. you find yourself seeking comfort in tsu'tey

contents: 7.7k words, fem! reader, blood, war, violence, gore, death, gun violence, suggestive scenes (no smut), angst, fluff, avatar 2009

authors note: i cannot even begin to say how thankful i am for everyone reading this. truly the support and love i have been given because of this story i am so grateful. i mean look at that huge fucking taglist. i'm so happy you all have enjoyed the story so far as much I have enjoyed writing it. (btw formatting is a bit different just because it's so long)

all parts

The cell you were locked in was quiet. No one spoke, all too deep set in their grief to conjure any words. The white lights were close to blinding as you sat up against the wall, staring at the roof as all of your senses started to blend together.

Grace looked to you with a sigh, as she looked at all of her other colleagues. She was full of grief, she was mourning with the people even as she sat locked away from them. Jake was as well, his mind full of Neytiri’s screams, the screams that were directed at him.

The faint sound of the roll of a food cart could be heard in the distance. Was it already lunch? Had the days blurred as all of you rotted in this tedium room?

“What’s going on brother? Long time no see.” The sound of Trudy’s voice was like a weight lifted off all of your shoulders. You could see in Norm’s eyes as they lit up to the sound of her. She pushed in the cart, the solider guarding your cell getting up to inspect it. “Personally I don’t feel these tree hugging traitors deserve steak.”

“They get steak? Bullshit. Lemme see that.” Trudy chuckled as she grabbed the gun out of her belt, pressing it against the man’s skull as his body froze.

“Yeah y’know what that is. Down. All the way down.” Trudy held the man until he reached the ground. Her arm swung back as she hit the man’s head with a loud thud, his unconscious body hitting the ground.

“Trudy!” Norm yelled out to her, relieved to finally see her again. He was already standing at the glass door along with Grace. A wide smile on his face.

“Max!” The gangly scientist came running in. His fingers clumsily fidgeting with the techy key stuck in his pocket. The beep of the door was a signal for you all to start running, making your way through the corridors of the RDA base.

You all burst through each door, feet moving fast as you all made you way towards the ships. “Trudy! Go fire the ships!” Jake called out as Norm ran up to her, grabbing a hold of the pistol Trudy held out for him.

You ran beside Grace, Max lagging behind slightly. Jake had his gun out in a ready position as he moved ahead of the three of you.

“Here!” You grabbed the oxygen masks, handing on to Grace, then to Jake. Before putting one on yourself. You turned to Max who was watching the door closely. “Thankyou.” You patted his back before running off to catch up to Grace and Jake who were heading towards the ship.

Grace and Norm pulled Jake onto the ship, you held his chair in your hands readily to put it onto the aircraft. “C’mon!” Trudy yelled from her seat, the sounds of the blades chopping the air making it hard to here. But not loud enough to cover the noise of gas hissing out of the building above you. With the colonel standing on the deck firing at the group below. “I’m taking fire! Let’s go!”

You threw the chair into Norm’s arm as you climbed up into the body of the ship. Bullets racketeering off of the metal. Machinery whirling as Norm steadied you into the ship.

That’s when you felt it. This blinding pain that made you stumble into the ship. You couldn’t even fathom a word only tiny whimpers of pain as you gripped onto your side. The warm liquid pooling in your hands, as the sounds of your crew cheering was fading into nothing.

Your entire abdomen felt hot. It was burning as your body started to stain red. It was like your abdomen was sinking from the pressure of the pain. Like it was separating from your body as you clung onto the wound for the tiniest bit of relief.

“Norm you good? Grace? Shit.” Jake turned to you, his sudden changed in emotion making Grace and Norm both turn their heads towards you immediately.

You could only give him a faint smile as your bloody hands shook. “Y/N is hit!”

“What?”

“Norm get the trauma kit!” Grace yelled as Jake studied your injured physique. Norm ran to where the trauma kit was stored, fumbling to get the kit back to you.

“Just keep pressure on. You’re okay.” Jake was shocked, he had no idea what to do. You were in an incredulous amount of pain, but you refused to feed into it. You weren’t going to let this get you.

“I- I’m fine. I’m g-good.” You could barely make words as Grace ushered Jake to moved, immediately tending to your wounds.

Grace and Norm helped move you into the pod. Every movement sent a shockwave of pain into the rest of your body. Jake knew the pain, he knew it was debilitating so any ounce of dislike he had towards you shrivelled away. He couldn’t have you die, not when he knew there was a way to help you.

Grace pushed a needle into your arm as you hissed in pain. “Oh you big baby. You’ll be alright, you’ll be just fine.”

“Tsu’tey I want to see him.” Grace smiled down at you sadly, pushing the hair out of your face.

“Just focus on not dying okay?” Your lip quivered and Grace caught on, she saw your despair. Her heart hung heavy looking at the one she had treated poorly dying in front of her.

“Grace!” Jake whispered, calling her over to where he had sat himself in solitude, thinking of something to get back to the people, to get you back to Tsu’tey. He imagined if he were in your shoes. He’d be wanting nothing more to go to Neytiri, he understood you fully.

Grace walked over, twisting her brows in confusion waiting for him to say something. “I can get her help. The people. The people can help.” She scoffed at him in disbelief.

“Why would they help us?” Jake’s stare hardened, he knew she was right. But deep down he ached to be with the people again, to bring you to them. To help them, to help you.

Tsu’tey sat at the front of the clan now as Olo’eyktan, as they all sung to Eywa. Praying for refuge, praying for help. Every few seconds he would glance at you. Well, your body and his heart would ache, like he had been shot with an arrow straight through him. He wondered if the fall of Hometree was the last time he would ever get to see you.

He wondered if you embracing him after the destruction was the only time he got to truly hold you. In a time of sorrow and a time of death. He wondered if that was the last time you ever would talk to him.

If he would never be able to fully apologise for his action. That he would never truly be able to convey just how much he yearns for you, how much it pained him to push you away. How much he regrets it all, that it was only for his promise. His promise to Neytiri that he shattered your heart.

He wished that he could mend it back together. He wished that you would come back to him so that the times you spend with him, the time when he did not hold back his affections. That they would not be in times of war. He wanted those times to be joyous.

He was broken out of his depressing thoughts as the light suddenly vanished and the sound of large gusts of wind filled his ears.  Dust erupted from off of the ground as the loud screech of Toruk was heard.

Tsu’tey stood up, his eyes wide and pupils blown in astonishment. He had to blink a few times to even realise that he was not dreaming. The Jakesully was Toruk Makto. The alien that led them to the destruction of Hometree was Toruk Makto.

He watched as Jake made his way towards Neytiri. Parting through the people as they stood in awe. The laid their hands on each other as they shared a moment. It made his heart twinge. If Jake was back, why weren’t you?

“Tsu’tey, son of Ateyo. I stand before you, ready to serve the Omaticaya people.” Jake spoke in his language, showing his dedication to the people he was here to serve. Tsu’tey could only stare, his body frozen as his lips twitched. He was standing above the Toruk Makto, Toruk Makto was standing before him. “You are Olo’eyktan, you are a great warrior, I know I have hurt you and your people, your love, but I can’t do this without you.”

The sound of the giant screech behind him made Tsu’tey’s gaze switch from the rider to the animal. His ears perked up as he was still frozen, not knowing how to handle this.

“Toruk Makto…” He put a hand on Jake’s heart. Symbolizing their union. “I will fly with you.” Jake’s strong expression weakened just for a split second before he looked away from the leader back to his mate and Tsa’hik, only to look back at Tsu’tey.

“She is dying. Y/N is dying.” Tsu’tey felt his entire body shut down, his mind swirling into a pool of nothingness, he felt numb. Nothing was concerning him more than your safety. His light touch on Jake’s chest turned into him grabbing tightly onto the shoulder of Toruk Makto as he concentrated on not breaking down in front of his people. It was as if the air was kicked out of him he gasped for air, looking at Mo’at and Neytiri. They’re faces were dripping in concern at Tsu’tey’s expression.

He was pale, eyes watery, mouth parted as if he was trying to scream but nothing was coming out. He looked at your Na’vi body, that was laying safely in a carrier. But it no longer felt as if he was looking at your body but rather your corpse. “Bring her here. NOW!” Tsu’tey yelled out, mostly at Jake. He needed to know you were alright, he needed to see you, even if it was the last time.

Jake held your injured body in his arms, Tsu’tey was crouched over your avatar, gazing at its sleeping form as he laid it carefully, making sure your hair was out of your face. But as soon as your fragile body was in his line of sight he jumped up scampering over to Jake. He held his hands out, begging to take you from Jake.

This was the first time he had seen your true form. You were so fragile, so small, so weak. He carefully took a hold of you, emotions clambering up his throat as he tried so hard not to cry. He never wanted to see you like this, dying. He never wanted to hold your dying body in his arms, but yet here he was.

You looked so different yet the same. Your eyes had that same sparkle, your eyebrows furrowed in the same way. You were still the alien that he loved even in a different body.

“Baby demon? Please.” His voice was soft, lulling you to wake. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, he had never watched someone more intensely. You slowly brought your hand up to his face, it barely was the size of the space between his mouth and chin.

“Tsu’tey?” He nodded biting his lip to stop his sobs from coming out. “I’m so sorry.” Tsu’tey shook his head as he placed you down onto the mossy ground.

“I am sorry, I- I am sorry for everything I have said to you baby demon.” You shook your head, grabbing onto his fingers. Your eyes slowly started to close as Tsu’tey crouched beside you, watching as the white tendrils latched onto your body.

“The great mother may choose to save all that she is, in this body.” Mo’at explained to Jake as Grace and Norm listened carefully. Tsu’tey was not hearing her words nor listening to them. He only focused on you. He watched the way your small breathes started to not come as regularly, and the tendrils started to cover the entirety of you. He prayed to Eywa that you would not leave him, that you would come back to him so he could have this second chance with you. So he could cherish you the way you deserved.

“Is that possible?”

“She must pass through the eye of Eywa and return. But Jakesully, she is very weak.” Tsu’tey winced at her words, a sharp pain in his heart burning as he turned to look at Mo’at.

“She will pass, she is strong.” Tsu’tey rested his hands on your body softly, feeling the warmth of your body slowly slip out.  He sat down placing his kuru in the ground to join the ritual. He was going to do everything to make sure that you stayed with him, he cannot lose anything else, anymore.

Mo’at chanted and the clan followed. The chants and her sounds filled the area as you felt your mind start to fade out, it felt like it was running from you and all you could do was chase after it.

The bright lights of the Tree of Souls lit up the ground as the chants grew louder. You felt yourself slipping from your consciousness, but it was welcomed. You felt safe as if you knew where you were headed and the journey there was set out for you.

Mo’at hushed the clan as she looked over to your still body, your eyes moved hastily under your shut eyelids. It was quiet, the suspense was driving Tsu’tey to insanity.

Then the brightness disappeared. Your eyes stopped moving and your small breaths became none. Tsu’tey shot up looking over at your two bodies with concern. “Has it worked?” His voice was quiet as if he was too scared to face an answer she did not want to here.

Mo’at looked over at him and stood over your avatar body. Her eyes widened. Your eyes were now moving rapidly under the blue eyelids, taking deep breathes as your mouth slowly parted. Mo’at gave Tsu’tey a knowing look as she looked down at your body slowly waking up.

“Y/N!” He jumped over to you holding your cold face in his hands. Your eyes fluttered open, looking at the tear-struck man above you.

“Tsu’tey?” Your voice was weak, as if you were using it for the first time. Your hands came up to his cheeks holding them.

“Yes. Yes. It’s me.” He put his hands on your head lifting you up slowly. “Are you alright?�� His eyes were studying you for any sign of illness, but you just nodded.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” He smiled before helping you up onto your feet again. Mo’at smiled at the two as she stood in front of her clan.

“She has passed through the eye of Eywa! She is Omaticaya!” The sounds of the people erupted, cries and chants of celebration as Tsu’tey simply held onto you, he was so grateful that he got to have a second chance with you, that now he could finally court you. Because you weren’t a demon or an alien. You were Omaticaya, one of the people forever.

The other clans were coming in at a rapid pace. Every minute there was another ikran flying in or direhorse trotting to the Tree of Souls.

You couldn’t deny it, but it was odd. Living in your avatar, well it wasn’t an avatar any longer. This was you. You felt as if you were torn between two places but the other place, your human body, no longer existed for you.

You weren’t to ever wake up from a link again, instead you simply slept in your body and woke up in the same one. You never had to log anything ever again, and you never were to experience anything human. It was odd, it was as if the bullet did not take away your life but just your human one.

Though you and Tsu’tey had come closer, realising your affections towards the others. The calm before the storm gave you time to sit with the weight of his previous words. You knew he did not mean them, but they still hung on your heart.

You wished to talk to him about it, but he was busy. So incredulously busy being a leader. You knew he pushed you away because of duties once. So you refused to get in the way of his duties again.

Tsu’tey could sense something was wrong though. He could see it in the way you would longingly stare at him with a sorrowful look. Or you would go to talk to him, only to cower out when another Na’vi approached him. Though he was glad to finally see you be one of his people, to finally see you interact and talk with the people in the clan as if they were your friends. He knew that he needed time to have you alone, to finally set things out between you two.

So as nightfall came he made his way towards you. He saw you sitting with some of the Na’vi children as the braided tiny bits of your hair. It warmed his heart seeing you with children, thinking of maybe having his own.

“Y/N?” His voice made all of them look up, surprised to see their Olo’eyktan. You smiled up at him. “Would you like to walk with me.” You nodded, standing up thanking the girls for your braids.

“Yeah of course.” He smiled back at you, taking your hand in his. Something that still felt foreign to you, him welcoming your touch so easily. He lead you away from the large crowd on Na’vi back towards the river. Where he cleaned the medicine off your knee.

“I can sense something is wrong. I do not want to go to war again with a dispute between us. I cannot live with the guilt.” Tsu’tey poured his concerns out to you as you gave him a sad smile.

“Sit with me.” You sat on the ground, right next to the river-bed, tugging Tsu’tey’s hand to make him sit in front of you. He sat down with a thud as you pulled him a little too hard, to then stare at you. Waiting for some kind of answer to his queries.

With a loud sigh you started to express your worries. “I know that times have changed, and that there is no longer a promise to be made with Neytiri. But I can’t help but think that the times we spent together, and the words you said about them. I can’t help but think that the words you said are still true to your thoughts.” You let out a shaky sigh before continuing. “I don’t want to be a parasite, or a mistake to you. I don’t want you to be ashamed of loving me but I am afraid that you do.”

Tsu’tey was gutted. He never wanted his words to cut you so deep that they never healed. He knew his words were hurtful and if he could go back in time and stop himself he would. He scooted towards you so he could rest a hand on your cheek, stroking it softly.

“Every word I said was because I was a skxwang. I was frightened for my people, for my place in the clan. I had made promises…and I am so sorry for not being brave enough to break them. I was scared of loving you yawne, but…I see you.” He was looking at you with pure love, not a single fibre in his body was not overwhelmed with the love he felt for you that he was pouring out.

You brought your hands up to his face, tucking the long braid that had slipped from it’s tie out of his face. “I see you Tsu’tey.” It was as if a weight was lifted off of both of your chests as Tsu’tey pressed your foreheads together.

He pressed your bodies together, longing for contact that he had been depriving himself of for the longest time. He wanted to hold you with no impending doom. He wanted to hold you just because he can, not because you were dying.

His embrace was tight, as he rested his head in the crevice between your head and shoulder. You hugged him back tightly, turning your head to giving him a kiss on the top of his forehead. Tsu’tey looked up at you, a new sense of want in his eyes.

He sat up, resting on his heels as he delicately held your chin. You saw his gaze fall to your lips and back to your eyes then back to your lips. He so desperately wanted to kiss you, to finally taste your sweet love. All he needed was a look, so when he looked back up to your pretty eyes to see them fixated on his lips, he didn’t hold back any longer.

His face etched closer and closer to yours, teetering towards your parted mouth as you stared up at him with a love-struck expression. His face was so close you could feel his breath, you could smell his desperation. All he needed was to look back to you again, to see you also moving closer, to see you edging closer to his lips that he finally connected you both together.

It was as if you were dropped into a pool of sweet bliss. His hands moved down to the small of your back, holding you close as you slowly moved into his lap. Tsu’tey felt as if his heart had exploded and mended itself. He was hungry, moving his hands all over your body as he feverishly kissed you.

Your eyes were squeezed tight, hands gracefully placed on Tsu’tey’s cheeks as you returned the kiss with the same vigour that he kissed you. He broke from your lips, gasping as he stared at you with his pupils blown. He couldn’t believe you were so close to him, that you were both sharing this beautiful moment together, when only a couple days ago you laid in his arms dying.

“What is it?” You asked him, your voice slightly hoarse as you deeply gazed into his eyes. He looked at you, and he felt it in his stomach, so deep within himself.

“I cannot go another minute without you knowing that I want you by my side. I want to be your mate, I want to fulfill my duties and I want you to stand next to me. I cannot go on without knowing if you reciprocate my desires Y/N.”

You felt like you were going to cry. This is what you spent your days dreaming about, you longed every day to be by his side, you yearned for him to one day ask for your hand. It was surreal and all you could do was give him a teary eyed nod.

Tsu’tey turned slightly to pick up him kuru, gazing at you, waiting for you to follow. “We will be mated for life, I do not want you to regret your decisions.” He didn’t want you to say no, he would crumble if you did. But he needed you to know what he was asking of you.

But you knew exactly what he meant, and exactly what you wanted. “Tsu’tey, how could I ever regret being with you?” You spoke to him softly, grabbing your kuru. There was no way you could deny your anxiousness, but the thought of finally being with Tsu’tey, connecting with the one you so dearly covet for. That beat any sense of insecurity you had at that moment.

Tsu’tey held his kuru tightly, watching the tendrils open as yours did the same. He looked into your eyes, searching for any sign of second thoughts but he was left empty-handed. You inched your queue towards him until the tendrils spiralled together.

Your pupils were blown and so were Tsu’tey’s. The feeling was overwhelming, you could feel everything he was feeling. You could feel his emotions, his desires, his thoughts. Everything. You were one.

Tsu’tey felt it all too. Overwhelmed in the feeling he breathed in slowly, gazing at you. He could feel all of your wants and fears. Your desires and wishes. But the one that plagued both for your minds was the desire for touch. So you both fed into it. He readjusted you in his grasp kissing you softly as he ran his hands up your body.

You ran your hands up his flexing abdomen as you started to lay back. “I love you.” You whispered to him, as he started to rest above you.

“I love you more.” He spoke as he felt your warm body beneath him invite him into you, invite him into your heart, your mind, your soul, and your body.

Unfortunately, you can’t live in newly-mated bliss forever. And it didn’t last long, barely a week. Jake broke the news to Tsu’tey as soon as he heard.

0600, 6:00am tomorrow Quaritch was rolling out every gun, man, ship, and missile towards the Tree of Souls. This was war. The clan however was no longer frightened, there were over 2000 warriors ready to fight back for their land, their home and they were no longer afraid.

But you were. You were terrified. Not only could many people die, Tsu’tey could. He was Olo’eyktan, his was going to be in the front lines of this fight. You knew he was a great warrior but it didn’t settle your nerves, not at all.

So as Tsu’tey finally returned to where you both had made camp for yourself he could sense your fear. “what troubles you?” He asked a light hand on your shoulder as he turned you to face him.

“I am scared Tsu’tey.” You looked up at him, the radiant glow of the forest reflecting off of him to make him glimmer in the night.

“Mawey, there is nothing to be afraid of. We will win, and I will return to you.” Your lip quivered, the reality of him never coming back to you settling in as he made that promise.

“Promise?” He nodded taking both of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles.

“Promise.” He kissed your hands once more, looking up to your teary eyed expression. “Please do not cry, I will cry too.” You giggled at him pulling him into a tight embrace. He squeezed you back tightly resting his head on top of yours.

It was currently 4:00am, and the warriors were all preparing. Sharpening their knives, stocking their arrows, painting their war stripes. It was all starting so fast.

You had Tsu’tey in front of you along with bowls of paint laid neatly beside you. You dipped your fingers in the thick liquid, flicking them to get the excess off before drawing on Tsu’tey’s stripes.

He sat there quietly, nose flaring as he exhaled whenever your fingers grazed his skin. You were making sure every stripe was perfect as you slowly drew the bigger ones down his arms and chest.

“You can go quicker, I must paint you as well.”

“Do not rush me, you will be the best painted warrior out there.” Tsu’tey mumbled under his breath as you arched your brow at him. He gave you a smile before taking the bowls from beside you and moving them closer to him.

He dipped his hand in the yellow paint, the same colour he had and drew a matching triangle on your face. He then did the same on your chin, using his thumb to draw a line, not forgetting to slightly graze your lips in the process.

He followed the triangles down your chest and up your arms. He was soft with you, only slightly grazing his fingers against your skin as if you could break any minute.

“There. You are ready.” The paint was sticky on your skin, but nothing you couldn’t get used to.

Time was ticking, and every moment you felt as if Tsu’tey was about to leave your grasp. His hands still lingered on your body as he pulled you closer to him. So that he could sit on the ground with you sitting in between his legs, fiddling with the beads on his necklace, as he braided small parts of your hair.

“I must go soon, Jake and I will lead the warriors. We must get there before the demons.” You nodded knowing your time with him was fleeting.

“I want to help, I want fight with you.” Tsu’tey tilted your chin up so you would look straight into his serious gaze.

“I need you here safe, we need you safe.” He put his hand carefully on your stomach, caressing the skin as he gave your lips a soft peck.

“What if you get hurt and I can’t help you?” Tsu’tey sighed at your concerns. Shit he had concerns too, but he refused to let up. He was to be brave, he will protect his people and his family.

“I won’t get hurt my love.” The sound of Jake ushering the warriors interrupted sweet moment the both of you were sharing. Both you and Tsu’tey’s ears perked up, your expression falling as you realized it was time. “I must go now. Be safe. Promise?”

You nodded, pressing your foreheads together, leaving a soft kiss on his lips. “Promise.”

It was full blown out war. Explosions erupted in the air and on the ground. You could hear the grunts of dying warriors from miles away. Tsu’tey made sure you were to stay with Mo’at at the tree of souls. He needed to know that you were safe, it gave him peace of mind.

The anxiety brewing in your stomach was growing out of control. Your heart was thumping, ears buzzing. Every moment all you could do was pray that he was safe.

Tsu’tey was soaring in the sky, adrenaline was pulsing through him like a strong current. The wind blew his braids in the air as he had his bow and arrow armed, ready to fire at any moment. The ships were strong, their foreign weapons stronger than any arrow.

But he had agility, he had skill. He would fight for his people so he could live peacefully with you. Maybe that is why he choose to abandon his ikran, jumping onto the open bottom of a demon ship. Slaughtering the sky-people as if they were flies.

He took his bow and arrow, shooting it through the body of one. Only to then use his large bow, as a weapon in itself as he whacked it on top of a pitiful sky-demon, that he flung out of air-craft with a shriek. He heard the click of a gun, ears perking up and fangs baring as he picked up the gun and the man with it, smashing it on the ground.

He couldn’t hear his own thoughts, over-ruled by the thirst for blood and revenge. His bow was like a hammer ploughing through the skulls of the humans in front of him. His eyes were wide, his eye brows furrowed as he continued to pluck each one off the ground, violently throwing them without a single bit of remorse cursing through his body. Another hard hit to a demons face, as they plummeted to the ground revealed a frightened sky-person.

He bared his gun, Tsu’tey felt his heart stop, his mind flicker with fear as he saw it. He used his bow once more hitting the gunman. But it wasn’t enough. Sharp debilitating pain filtrated through his lower body as he stumbled off of the ship.

He couldn’t even hold onto the vessel. He lost balance, his legs turning to jelly as his body slipped. The fall was long, the force of his body falling made the wind sound like it was assaulting him.

The pain was all down his leg, he couldn’t get himself to look as he tried desperately to find some foliage to plummet into. Breaking his fall.

No amount of leaves could make the thump onto the ground any less painful. It felt as if someone had taken a million punches to his entire body. The sticks left light scratches all across him, his face bleeding as a sharp stick had sliced his cheek.

He tried to move from his spot on the ground but he couldn’t. He sat up with an immense struggle. Looking down to see his leg bleeding profusely. It made him sick, as if his stomach would escape him. Three holes were sat in his thigh as he desperately tried to stay conscious. They weren’t fatal, he knew that but his mind was fleeting him as the pain overtook all of his senses.

Every time his leg twitched he would groan in immense pain. He was stuck, he couldn’t go anywhere. He needed help desperately. He needed to see you. Using one arm to prop himself up he pressed onto the mic on his neck.

“Y/N? Y/N can you hear me?” His voice was weak and desperate. It was fleeting every word was met with a hiss of pain.

The second you heard Tsu’tey’s pained voice in your ear you felt as if you were going to hurl. You brought your shaky hand up to your mic. “Yes- yes I can. Where are you?” You were close to hysterics, you needed to know he was safe, and you were certain he wasn’t.

“I am shot. I fell. Yawne- I- I cannot move please-” His words were cut short but you wasted no time. Mo’at looked over at you, her eyes telling you to run. You had no animal to ride, nothing to travel so you sprinted. Only holding a knife in your belt but you needed to find him.

“I’m coming, just hold on. Okay?” You slowed down so you could speak in your mic. Only to take off again. You didn’t know where your feet were taking you but you trusted your instincts. Those instincts that were buzzing from within you. They grew stronger every time the rough pads of your feet hit the ground.

You thought you may have been hearing things because of your stress. But the more you focused on the loud shouting of a Na’vi you realised it was your mate. It was your mate yelling in anguish.

You didn’t think your body could go faster but it could. It was as if your legs were going on their own. His yells turned in hisses and his hisses turned into cries. You weren’t sure what was happening but the image you saw in front of you was one that would never leave you mind again.

Wainfleet, a man you had recognised from your time in the RDA was in his mechanical suit. Holding Tsu’tey above the air from him queue. Dangling him as he cried. Tsu’tey was in unbearable pain, his leg covered in blood as he gripped tightly onto his queue for the slightest amount of relief from the searing pain on the back of his skull.

You were no warrior no fighter, but the aggression that surged through your veins was one you had never felt before. Maybe it was because you were angry at the sky-people, because your Na’vi body created a connection like no other to Tsu’tey, but the love you had for the struggling man in front of you blinded you with rage.

Your body took over itself, running straight towards the manic demon, that delighted in the pain of others. You jumped onto the back of the machine, making a great deal of noise in the progress. On your way up you grabbed a large piece of abandoned metal, large enough to be a Na’vi sized machete. Tsu’tey saw you and your manic looking expression as your body clambered on top of the suit.

Wainfleet dropped Tsu’tey, leaving him to hit the ground abruptly with a loud groan of pain once more. “Y/N! Stop!” Tsu’tey called out for you, but you couldn’t hear him through your clouded mind.

You took the metal from your hands and continued to stab it into the glass shield of the metal junk, shattering it as shards fell into the soldiers faces, toxic gas hissing into his chamber. Once he realised there was another Na’vi on top of him his robotic hands reached up to only smash you back onto the ground with a loud crack. Tsu’tey tried to run back to you but he was stuck, useless as he watched you writhe in pain as Wainfleet came closer to your body.

You hissed as you readjusted, stumbling as you got up. Spots of white in your vision but it didn’t stop you. This man was going to die. And your hands would carry that blood. Wainfleet chuckled as you hissed at him.

He didn’t waste his time, trying to shoot your stumbling body only to realise it was out of bullets. He groaned in annoyance taking a large knife out of the leg of the suit, swinging it with no real direction, as the shattered glass clouded his vision.

Tsu’tey called out for you, begging you to run. But you didn’t all you did was jump away from the blade, your eyes blown with rage as you had jumped onto the top of the suit once again. You took the metal out of the glass, twisting it as the whole shield shattered, crumbling to pieces letting his human body reveal itself to the harsh air of Pandora.

The crazed sky-demon discarded his robotic arm for just a moment to put on his face mask, to let the air back into his system. But you were having none of it. Your arms moved before your brain could even comprehend what you were doing. But the large piece of metal that you had taken out of the glass was now in your hands. It was deadly in your blind-struck rage.

Screaming you plummeted it through his chest, only to rip it out of his body to stab it right back in. Blood was spattering everywhere as you continued to stab into the human, screaming manically as your chest heaved, spitting out the blood that had been caught in your mouth. The force of your assault had almost severed the man in half as the machine collapsed below you. The blood splattered all over you, drenching you in the evidence of your murder.  

The machine clanked as it hit the ground. You jumped back onto the ground shaking looking at the mess you created. It was horrific. He barely looked human, his blood drowned him in the suits chamber as you stumbled away.

Tsu’tey was frozen in shock. He had never seen this side of you. A side that was so blood thirsty and vengeful. He saw the way you stared down at your blood soaked hands as you shook. “Yawne” He croaked out trying to get your attention.

You immediately turned to your groaning mate who still couldn’t move. “Tsu’tey!” You scrambled to the ground where he had sat himself up against a rock, still clenching onto his leg as the pain surged through him. “You’re okay, we’ll get you back home soon okay?” Tsu’tey nodded with his eyes clenched shut.

You crouched down to look at his ruptured leg. The blood was no longer pooling out as the wounds were raw and sore. Putting your hands back onto the mic you called for help that you desperately needed.

“Jake, do you read me?”

“What is it?” His voice was gruff, worn out from the fighting.

“I- I need help, Tsu’tey is injured we needed to get him back to Mo’at. I can’t move him.”

“We’re on our way.” You let out a sigh of relief as you looked at Tsu’tey. His pained expression hurt you, but you took his hand in yours.

“You hear that baby? We’re getting you help. You’ll be alright.” Tsu’tey clenched onto your hands as his leg twitched again.

“Are you hurt yawne?” His voice was rough as his eyes studied your bloodied body for any wounds. You shook your head, even though it was a lie. The smash onto the ground you took was causing a resounding amount of pain in your body, but you could handle it.

“I am fine, focus on you. Please.” He nodded as you caressed his knuckles, waiting for help to come. You both sat in silence, the only sounds between the two was a grunt of pain from Tsu’tey followed by your soothing hushes. It lasted awhile until the large gusts of wind, signature to the arrival of Toruk Makto resounded in your ears. “Their here baby.”

Jake and Neytiri rushed over shocked at the state both of you were in. Jake walked closer, shocked to see the gory image of Wainfleet’s body discarded from the mated pair. Seeing his former colleagues drenched in blood he could only assume wasn’t hers was a sight that he never thought he’d see. But he never though he’d see you cradling an injured Tsu’tey either.

Neytiri was immediately tending to Tsu’tey, helping to readjust him so he could be placed onto Toruk. “Ma Jake, help us.” She sneered as he rushed over as they all picked up the warriors body. Tsu’tey cursed loudly clenching onto your hands as the three of you shuffled towards the screeching beast.

With a collective grunt Tsu’tey was placed onto the back of Toruk. He used both of his hands to keep him up, his leg hanging unable to be moved. Jake hopped onto the ikran twisting the reigns around his forearms. “You both should be on the back, hold him up so he does not fall.” You and Neytiri nodded hopping on the back of Toruk’s neck. You held him from the back, your core tight as the large animals started to flap its wings. Neytiri sat herself on the back. Looking towards the both of you, watching closely to make sure neither of your injured bodies fell.

After the flight Tsu’tey was immediately taken to the healers. They worked tirelessly for days to recover him from his injuries.

You were by his side the entire time, holding onto him as he squeezed you in pain as they dug for the bullets in his flesh. Soothing him as the medicines stung and the stitches stabbed. The process was close to unbearable. But you calmed him, he wasn’t sure what he would ever do without you.

Days passed and days turned into weeks as Tsu’tey recovered. He itched to be back to leading, he wanted to stand before his people, but his muscles were weak. Mo’at told him that his recovery would be long. But he was impatient.

His days were filled with bedrest and little limps. He wanted to stride again, to be a hunter. This was no way to be a leader.

Eventually, his limps turned into stumbles and his stumbles turned into steps. Steps that made him feel like a man again, like a leader. He was just upset it took him three agonizingly long months to do so.

But those months were crucial for him. Crucial for him to step up, to help be a better mate, better leader and to become an amazing father….

A couple months later

You were swollen, from head to toe your body ached. You writhed in the soft leaves, hating the thought of waking up to do your tasks. Tsu’tey was cradled next to you, his large hand protectively placed over your large belly.

Tsu’tey had his head nestled in your shoulder. “Good morning my mate.” His voice was still adjusting to the day as his voice vibrated in your ears making them prick up in excitement.

“Morning.” You were tired, the baby had been kicking all night, you barely got any rest only to be woken up by Eywa’s light.

“What is wrong?” He shuffled up, placing his head on his hand as he looked over at you. Growing concerned when you didn’t immediately reply. “Yawne? What is it?”

“This child has not stopped moving.” Tsu’tey couldn’t help but let a smile out as you mentioned his growing family.

“She is excited to meet you, that is all.” Tsu’tey rubbed your belly, giving your temple a soft kiss.

“Sure. Also you must stop talking as if you know it will be a daughter. You should not get your hopes up for one outcome.” You fiddled with his fingers that were on your belly.

He sat up now so he could use his other hand to guide your chin so you would face him. “I am certain this is a girl, I am also certain we will have enough sons. Trust me.”

“Tsu’tey! You’re disgusting!” You gave him a playful shove sitting up to face him. He let out a hearty laugh, his features glimmering in the morning light. You watched as his playful gaze turned into one more sincere, “What are you thinking?”

His heart was full of love. He was so happy that you came to him. That you were kind enough to love him and forgive him. He felt truly blessed. To think the one he called baby-demon was now his mate and was giving him a baby of his own. He felt proud. He was proud of himself for letting himself love you, he was proud of his people for accepting his love and he was so zealously proud of you, the way you protected him, loved him, and cherish him. He would never be able to live a day without you by his side again.

“I love you.” He whispered out, letting his hand cradle your cheek. You smiled into his hand.

“I love you more.”

tags: @koolaidmanscaresme @suntizme @forestcottage @avatarlover21 @mechformers @jennielune @dilfs-bitch @simplefools @merla123 @awkward-halfhug @atwow69 @scarlettisconfusedd @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @elegantkidfansoull @tarrynightss @randxmthxughts @ronalsgirl @gardenofvows @zitarcis @i-thirsty-boii @lin0leum @lovekeehoo @notyurdad @supercoolusernamesblog @cupidddd-d @im-in-a-pansexual-panikanik @saltedcoffeescotch @jakesullysslutttt @valentineheartzz @eywas-heir @perilous-pasta @fanboyluvr @asd3ku @atsukiswrld @moonpie3000 @coffeeaddictednymph @anangelwhodidntfall @snips-501

@dangerouslittlefairy @chaos-in-person @rebeccao03 @adaydreamaway08 @jellybeanstacey0519 @graykageyama @aracelikara @live-laugh-neteyam @sam-chwan @netherklutz @pajerita19 @ducks118 @glacticrose @kadu-5607 @rainbowsocks @star-dusst @cries-maria@mollygetssherlockcoffee @julielightwood @cleverzonkwombatsludge @sullyslover @midnightliacr @clara-geekhime @innercreationflower @zoetrope1997 @dreamsholdpowers @sovereignsylvia @anxietydrogz @ghostslittlegf @slutforsmut4ever @daeneeryss @yzulu @b-tchymoon @itscheybaby

reblogs and replies super duper appreciated, id love to hear what u thought (i tried rlly hard LMAO) thankyou so much for reading

[touyasdoll]

Hi there!! I hope you are having a wonderful week! I wanted to ask for a Hitoshi Shinsou x reader (f)x, Katsuki Bakugou. Like the two boys fighting over the reader and her being like "Stop fighting! I'll take you both" kinda thing.... Also wanted to say I loved Freaky Friday and kinda want to know what happens next! :D Thank you!!!

OOOOH I loveee this! 💜🧡 It would be such a fucking honor to be railed by both these men at once 😮‍💨 & tysm! I still have Bakugou brainrot, so I think I know where Freaky Friday is headed haha

Both is Good

Pairing: Hitoshi Shinsou x f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou

Genre: smut, pwp

Word Count: 2.8k of straight smut

Warnings: threesome, breath play, degradation, oral (f receving & performing), overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding

"You really think she'd ever even look your way, Eyebags? I doubt she'd come anywhere near your dick even if you mindfucked her first," you could hear Bakugou spit from the break room.

It was just the three of you left in your agency's building, here far too late to work on a case you'd asked for their help on. He had to be talking to Shinsou, who definitely wasn't unattractive. Plus, he always gave off the vibe that he knew what he was doing in bed. If he actually wanted to fuck you, that might make for a really good time.

Having piqued your interest, you crept closer to the cracked door, listening for a reply.

"Oh, so you think you're more her type? You really think that she's interested in someone who can't hold a single conversation without screaming or threatening to blow someone's face off?" From your view through the opening, you could see Shinsou's eyebrow lift as he smirked.

The veins in Bakugou's neck became readily visible, his voice jumping up several decibels, "What if I just go ahead and blow yours off right here?"

"Hey, hey," you push the door open and both men appeared surprised to see you. "Oh, did you two think you were being quiet?" You laugh, walking closer and leaning against the counter.

"How much did you hear?" Shinsou stood up straighter, adjusting his capture weapon around his neck.

"Oh, I heard enough," you smile, crossing your arms over your chest as you look between them. "So..both of you wanna fuck me?"

"Obviously, Princess," Bakugou moves closer to you and Shinsou follows suit, so that they're both standing just before you, towering over your frame. "The question is: which one of us do you wanna fuck?"

"Mm, I've never been one for decisions like these. My answer always seems to be that both is good." You smile sweetly, running a hand over both of their chests.

"Very funny," Bakugou catches your wrist, his expression reading unamused.

"Would you really be into that?" Shinsou narrows his eyes at you and you swear it looks like an inquisitive flame has lit behind his eyes.

Bakugou's eyes ping-pong between the two of you as he shakes his head, but you grin at Shinsou, biting the inside of your lip, "Getting hot and heavy between two of the hottest Pro Heroes? Yeah, I'd be into that," you giggle.

"I mean," Shinsou looks to Bakugou, "I'm comfortable enough in my manhood to do that, but I don't wanna speak for you, so.."

"I'm plenty fuckin' comfortable," he glares at Shinsou, gritting his teeth, but he softens when your hand presses to his lower abdomen.

"So, you're up for it?" You lean towards him, your fingers tugging at his utility belt as he lets out a low groan.

"Course I fuckin' am," he leans down, two large hands coming to rest on your hips as his voice darkens, "If it means I finally get to bury myself in that sweet little pussy of yours."

Your cheeks flushed, suddenly flustered by his words as his lips captured yours, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip to demand entrance, which you happily gave him.

Another pair of hands found your waist, guiding you away from the counter, so that Shinsou could step behind you, "You sure you can handle this, Kitten?"

"Mm," is the only sound you could make with your lips still smashed against Bakugou's, but you reached back to grasp at Shinsou's costume, pulling him closer to you.

He attached his lips to your neck, working at the zipper of your costume. Bakugou helped him peel it off before making quick work of your bra, only separating your lips for a brief moment as he pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it aside.

Shinsou filled his palms with the swell of your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he bit down gently on your shoulder, making a mental note of the way you moaned as he sank his teeth delicately into your flesh.

Bakugou gave your breasts some much needed attention, palming them and pushing them together as he finally detached his lips from yours to lap at both of your nipples, taking one into his mouth to suckle.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight, moaning as you watched him nip and tug the sensitive nub between his teeth, his vermillion eyes locked with yours all the while.

"Fuck," you sighed as Shinsou caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, stealing your attention as he covered your mouth with his own.

He kissed you slowly, his tongue expertly dancing in tandem with yours in a way that had you chasing the taste of him as he pulled away, his amethyst irises shining with promise as his hands slipped your costume down from around your hips, leaving you clad in only your thin panties as he pressed his middle finger against your folds.

"Gettin' awfully close to my dick," Bakugou growled, momentarily pausing his efforts on your nipples.

"You should be so lucky, I could probably handle it better than you could," Shinsou smirked coolly.

"Can we table this?" You asked breathlessly, arching your back against Shinsou as you placed your hand over his wrist, urging him to touch you meaningfully.

He obliged, whispering in your ear as he looked to Bakugou, "Why don't we table you?"

Bakugou smirked and took the cue, stooping down scoop you up into his arms. Your costume clung to your ankles, but you kicked it off as you were carried over to a wide table and laid on your back.

Shinsou came around to the other side to stand behind your head, hovering above your field of vision as his hands came down to massage your breasts.

He groaned as he rolled your nipples between agile fingers, while Bakugou hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties.

"Been waiting for this for a long time, Princess. You have any idea how many times I've dreamed about tasting this pussy?" He slipped your panties off and hunched over, pressing a kiss to the inner part of your knee, slowly working his way up your innermost thigh as you squirmed beneath him.

"Oh, God," you whimpered, all the sensations flowing through you leaving you suspended in bliss, reduced to putty in both of their capable hands.

"You enjoying yourself, Kitten?" Shinsou pressed a kiss to your temple, kissing along the side of your face until he caught your earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently before whispering, "Do you prefer to be fucked like a lady or a whore?"

Normally, you might be embarrassed, but things were too far gone for any of that.

"Like a whore," you mewled, your thighs tensing as Bakugou pried them apart to lick a stripe through your folds.

"That's what I thought," Shinsou smirked, holding your torso down as you cried out, instinctively trying to wriggle away as Bakugou began eating you out in earnest, his soft groans sending delicious shivers up your spine that just felt too good.

"Let's give you something else to focus on, yeah, Kitten?" Shinsou smoothed your hair as he angled your face upwards, taking a moment to shed his own clothing, freeing his thick cock, which was leaking with precum.

You eagerly lapped at the beads on the tip before slipping the head of his cock into your mouth, moaning desperately along his length as you bobbed your head.

"Fuck, your mouth is so perfect, baby," he groaned, pulling out suddenly. "Hang on," he put two hands beneath your back, lifting you to bring you up further on the table, so that your head hung over the other end.

You smiled and opened your mouth obediently, letting him slide his length into your throat.

"So fucking good," Shinsou groaned, closing his eyes as he held your face in his hands, thrusting in and out of your wet mouth.

Bakugou hadn't missed a beat on his end, his tongue laving against your clit as two thick fingers began pumping inside of you, adding a dizzying layer of pleasure that had you whimpering around Shinsou's cock, the contractions of your throat only doing great things for the way you felt around him.

"Nasty fuckin' slut, aren't you?" Bakugou murmured against the lips of your soaked pussy, delving his tongue inside to swirl around in your walls, his nose nuzzling against your battered clit until he replaced his tongue with his fingers again. "You love this shit, don't you? Can't wait to cream on my face while your mouths full of someone else's cock, huh? You sick fucking bitch."

Shinsou sheathed his entire length inside your throat as it became evident that your orgasm was upon you. Your hips thrashed against Bakugou's face, but he held them fast in his palms, determined to taste the juices that poured out of you as your screams were muffled by Shinsou's cock in your airway.

He held it there as you rode your high, only retreating when he felt you must have been desperate for a breath, which you most certainly were.

You gasped as Shinsou took a step back and he ran a soothing hand through your hair, "You're doing so well, Kitten."

"Fuckin' perfect if you ask me," Bakugou wiped his chin, his hands hooking beneath your knees to tug your back toward him, so your ass was right up to the edge of the desk, "You should be worked up enough to take me by now," he smirked, shedding his costume as Shinsou's hands travelled down your arms.

"You're gonna look so good with your pussy stuffed full," Shinsou leaned down to kiss you, his fingertips rubbing soft circles over your skin.

Bakugou rubbed his head against your puffy clit, moaning along with you as he lined himself up with your quivering hole. Shinsou held your forearms, bracing you against the table, as he spoke, "Don't go easy on her. See how much she can take."

A devious grin crossed Bakugou's lips as he flicked his eyes to Shinsou, "Oh, I was plannin' on it," and with that, he sunk himself into you, the stretch alone inspiring you to wail.

It hurt as first, but the pleasure of feeling so completely full more than made up for it as Bakugou began to move.

"Oh my God," your hands grasped desperately for something to hold on to as tears welled in your eyes.

Shinsou slipped his hands lower to interlace your tiny hands in his as Bakugou dug his digits into the soft flesh of your hips, pulling you into each fervent thrust of his hips.

"You're so fuckin' tight, Princess," Bakugou rasped, his head lolling back as a choked groan left his throat. "Fuck, you feel better than I fuckin' imagined. Can't wait to cum all over that pretty face of yours."

You shook your head, tears running over your cheeks as you eyes began to roll back, feeling your second orgasm fast approaching, "No, cum inside me," you begged, "Please, please, Sir. Wanna keep all your cum inside my tight little pussy."

Bakugou's head nearly exploded on the spot, his eyes practically glowing as he snapped his hips faster, "You wanna take all my cum, you filthy slut? I'll fuck it into you just like you asked, if that's what you really want."

He looked almost completely animalistic as he growled, pounding himself into you as you babbled a mixture of curses that swirled around his name, Shinsou stayed behind you, his cock achingly hard as he whispered sweet praises in your ear, telling you how good you looked, how well you were taking Bakuogu's cock.

He let go of your hands when your orgasm arrived. The overwhelming sensation sent you shooting straight up, your palms coming flush against the table beneath you as you cried out, broken sobs falling from your lips as Bakugou came undone within your velvety walls. He fucked his hot seed into you as one hand came behind your head, pulling you closer to place a searing kiss to your lips.

"Fuck," he sighed as the pair of you separated, groaning quietly as he stepped back, slipping out of you as some of your intermingled release dribbled out of you and onto the floor. "Oh, fuck," his brows knit together as he stood in awe of you.

"You're so well-behaved, Kitten," Shinsou came to stand between your legs, placing his hands on either side of your waist. "I think you deserve at least one more orgasm, don't you?"

All you could do was nod as your words still failed you, your mind too jumbled from the pleasure coursing through you.

"There's my good girl," he whispered seductively, holding your face as he kissed you slowly. "You think you can get on all fours for me like a good kitten?"

"Mmhmm," you hum, letting him pick you up from the table to set you on the nearby sofa.

Bakugou took a seat first, sitting sideways with his legs parted, extending his hands to guide you onto the couch, "C'mere, Princess, I gotcha," he sank down so that he was halfway beneath you, his muscled arms supporting either side of your torso, while his hands rested on your back.

Shinsou assumed his position behind you, teasing your folds as he parted them with the swollen head of his cock, "I'm glad we've saved the best for last," he smirks, slowly pushing his girth into your slick core as he grips your hip, while Bakugou scowls.

The blonde returns his focus to you, running his hands up your back slowly as he leans up to press his lips to yours.

"Shit, you are fucking tight," Shinsou's hips stutter as you clench around him, so sensitive from the previous ventures within your walls.

“Hell yeah she is,” Bakugou mumbles against your lips, a proud smirk evident there as he cups your breasts in his hands.

Shinsou begins thrusting reliably, sinking himself deeper with each pass as Bakugou massages your breasts sensually, toying with your nipples on occasion as you turn into a mess between the two of them.

Before too long, you’re pushed up against Bakugou’s chest, locked between his strong arms after being forced there by the harshness of Shinsou’s thrusts.

You can’t think straight. All you can do is cling to Bakugou’s shoulders, focusing on the sound of his voice as he watches Shinsou slam his hips into you, positively mesmerized by the way your ass jiggles with each connection of skin on skin.

“You gonna cum again for us, Princess? I wanna see you do it. Wanna feel you claw at me when you feel so good you don’t know what to fuckin’ do with yourself.”

“Gonna stuff you so fucking full, Kitten. You better not waste a drop of it,” you can barely register Shinsou’s gruff voice behind you as you dig your nails into Bakugou’s skin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry, hands shaking as Bakugou braces you against his chest, “Feels too good. Oh, no, no, no. Too good,” you whimper, your eyes shut tight as every part of you clenches.

Bakugou shushes you quietly, watching your face as he holds you fast.

“You can take it, Kitten,” Shinsou grunts as he thrusts impossibly deeper, sending you off into utter bliss one more time as an intense feeling of relief washes over you.

You’re trembling in Bakugou’s grasp, expelling any noise you know how to make in a bid to channel the overwhelming sensation taking over you as Shinsou continues to snap his hips forward, a low, gargled moan pouring from his lips as he releases warm, sticky ropes of cum inside of you.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed by the time you finally come to your senses, wrapped up in Bakugou’s arms as he strokes your hair, while Shinsou rubs the back of your thighs from where he’s now seated behind you.

“You all right, Princess? Or did you get more than you bargained for?” Bakugou flashes you a crooked smile when you look up at him.

“I’m great,” you laugh softly, laying your head back down on his chest. “We should do this again sometime.”

“Maybe at my place next time,” Shinsou smiles, trailing his nails gently over your inner thigh, causing you to shiver and giggle. “I’ve got some toys I think you might like.”

“I’ll be there,” you close your eyes, sighing contentedly as Bakugou begins rubbing your shoulders.

He looks to Shinsou, who appears to be waiting for an answer, and then looks back to you, sighing as he replies, “Count me in.”

[forsworned]

𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞 ✩‧₊˚‎◜

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. not proofread LOL

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i can't even tell you how many fucking fics i have of reader running late but lol im gonna try and get to some reqs but here's something to get me out of my writer's block

Usually, on Monday mornings you would be up by the crack of dawn with a nice cup of steaming hot coffee and your usual breakfast. You didn’t like to be rushed, so you would be ready at least an hour ahead of time before you headed out. Your roommates would usually be asleep at this time with the exception of one.

Recently, he had gotten into the habit of waking up before you did and your coffee and breakfast would be ready at the table as he sat down on the other stool at the kitchen bar with his own breakfast and coffee. His novel in braille readily available as he awaited you. You couldn’t pinpoint when and why it had started, but you would thank him regardless.

“Good morning, [name].” He would smile at you hearing your footsteps approach him as you slipped into your seat.

“Good morning, Gyomei. Thank you for breakfast.” You beamed as you took a sip of your coffee. Always just how you liked it.

“You never miss.”

He chuckled softly as he put down his novel on the wooden counter. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“I know you have work an hour later than I do, but why do you always go out of your way to make me breakfast?”

You couldn’t help yourself. You were curious. Gyomei didn’t seem to go out of his way to make the other breakfast.

He paused for a moment trying to find the right words to say. “Because I want to.”

“Oh.” Was all you could muster up as you finally took a heaping bite of your meal as you chewed quietly. “Well, thank you.”

“No need to thank me for doing something I do out of love.”

Your eyes widened at what he had said, but the sound of your phone buzzing had caught your attention. You immediately unlocked it and answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, [surname]-san. We noticed that you weren’t here at your usual time and we just wanted to make sure you were alright.” Your secretary's voice was soft and concerned as she spoke.

You looked at the time on your watch and nearly choked on your coffee. “Holy shit!”

“O-oh, are you okay?” Her voice shook a little and you realized that was the first time she had ever heard you speak so unprofessionally.

“Oh, Yuki! I am so sorry. I will be in the office in fifteen minutes!”

“O-okay, [surname]-san we’ll wait for your arrival. Drive safely.”

And with that the phone had hung up and you had to hold the bridge of your nose to try and make the embarrassment dissipate.

“Is everything okay?” You gazed up to see that Gyomei’s brows were furrowed in concern.

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks remembering what he had said before. His words had truly caught you off guard and if it hadn’t been for the raging crush you had had on him since you had met him in college maybe your heart wouldn’t be thrumming through your chest so hard.

“Y-yeah, it was my secretary checking on me to see why I wasn’t there yet. I should probably get going then.”

“Let me walk you out then.” He suddenly said and you felt yourself tripping over your words.

“Oh you don’t need to.” You said finally getting a grip.

“I insist.” He got out of his chair as he reached for his walking stick and you sighed knowing how stubborn he could be.

He never took no for an answer.

You simply put your shoes on and opened the door as you fixed the back of them as the leather was starting to fold over. The jingling of your keys caught his attention as he held open the door for you and you didn’t even fight him at that point. He even unlocked the screen door so that you didn’t waste any more time.

“Thank you.” You shyly said as you walked down the steps leading to your car and you heard Gyomei’s walking stick hit the concrete. He didn’t really need it. He had memorized every inch of this place.

As you searched your bag to make sure you had all your documents you needed to take to work, you heard your car door unlock.

The smile that tugged on your lips was beginning to make the skin on your mouth split as you saw that he had been waiting for you to enter the driver’s seat. What a gentleman.

You tossed your bag into the passenger seat and quietly thanked him for what seemed like the millionth time this morning.

“It’s not a problem.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in the afternoon.” You shuffled on your feet as you stood their awkwardly.

“Maybe, sooner than that.”

“Huh?” But before there could be any further conversation, your watch beeped loudly causing you to jump.

“Fuck! I really gotta go! But I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Alr–”

You cut his words off with a swift kiss goodbye and entered your car and slammed the door shut as you turned the ignition on and began to make your way to work. It wasn’t until you cut the ignition off and locked your car that you had realized what you had done. Your fingers to your lips as your eyes widened and your heart thumped loudly against your chest.

You quickly checked your phone and to your surprise you noticed that he had texted you ten minutes ago.

『 I could get used to kissing you goodbye in the mornings 』

[dragonmuse]

I'll ask for an elaboration of Lucius and Izzy having fun with just Izzy's stubble after he had to shave his goatee...

“Down,” Lucius ordered and Izzy sank to his knees between bare thighs. 

Lucius inner thighs were sparsely haired, the skin delightfully soft. Izzy liked to rest his head against them, soaking in the position when they weren’t actively in the middle of something, but right now he was very distracted by Lucius’ cock,  a breath away from his lips. He knew what Lucius would ask him, so Izzy looked up at him and said, 

“Please can I suck your cock?” 

“Oh, we’re polite tonight,” Lucius grinned. He reached down, threading his hand into Izzy’s hair and pulling a little. “You want it?” 

“So much...”

“All right, come and get it then. Hands behind your back. I want to just see those pretty pink lips spread wide. Can’t believe you’ve been hiding those from me.” 

Izzy didn’t waste any time, folding his hands together at the small of his back and then taking Lucius into his mouth. After countless repetition, he barely needed all the accouterments of their shared act to get to the good place in his head. Just feeling the weight of Lucius’ cock in his mouth, the familiar shape of it on his tongue and the grip of strong fingers in his hair was enough. Izzy sank into the heated depths, completely turned on and also entirely at Lucius' mercy. 

“Fuck, Iz...” A twist of his hand and Lucius guided him to take more. “Love this view...look at how beautifully you take me. So fucking good at this, should charge other people to come here and watch. Would you like that, my good boy? Huh? Let someone else appreciate how sweet you are with me?” 

The actual idea was repulsive, but the way Lucius described it always prickled heat over Izzy’s skin. Some faceless spectator watching him please Lucius, knowing that he was satisfying this gorgeous man? How could that not be a bit of a turn on? 

“Enough,” Lucius gave a breathless laugh after elastic long minutes. He drew Izzy away by his hair. “Oh my love, look what you did to me...”

Lucius’ thighs were chafed pink, blushed through with color. 

“Sorry,” he croaked. 

“Do not be sorry,” Luicus leaned down and kissed him open-mouthed and wet, “I’m going to feel that all day tomorrow. Every time I move, I’ll be thinking of that sandpaper stubble and your clever mouth. I’ll have to stay behind the bar or wear very loose pants.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Oh yes,” he grinned. “But if you’re feeling contrite, you can kiss each spot.” 

Which would likely just make it worse, but Izzy knew an order when he’d heard one. And there was something devastatingly simple in the worship of it. He kissed the up one thigh, pressing his lips to every soft sweet inch of skin. Lucius stroked Izzy’s shoulder, murmuring praise.  

“If you eat me out, my whole ass would be red too,” Lucius said slowly.  “Mmm...how about this. I’ll spank you to the same shade you can get me to.” 

Izzy paused his task, glancing up at Lucius, momentarily stunned that Lucius would be the one seeking pain. 

“I’ll like it,” Lucius promised him. “Yes or no?” 

“Yes pup,” Izzy said readily. 

Like he’d turn down a chance to both eat Lucius out AND get spanked. The latter had actually been a fairly late addition to their play. Izzy hadn’t been keen on it, certain that it would both be too mild and bring along a fair amount of bad associations. 

Bless Lucius who never did these things by half measures and could deliver stinging blows and make sure Izzy never forgot who was giving them. 

Lucius stretched out and rolled over onto his hands and knees, 

“You better work hard then or you’ll barely earn five or six. You know you barely even feel it until ten.” 

Izzy surged forward. Hands back in the play, he dug in his thumbs, parting Lucius’ cheeks so he could bury his face where it would do the most good. Izzy had no idea if he was actually good at this act, or if Lucius was just easy because as soon as the point of his tongue flicked over the tight furl of muscle, Lucius would always start moaning like he was dying for it. It wasn’t quite as high up on Izzy’s list as cocksucking, but he would do pretty much anything to make Lucius sound like that. 

He put his all into it tonight, not just for the reward, but because he could still feel Lucius’ approving gaze as he caught Izzy’s shaved face, accepting and rolling right into attraction instead of the hitch of hesitation that Izzy had expected at a bare minimum. 

By now, Izzy was confident in Lucius’ love and attraction, but sometimes the reminder was the most grounding thing in the world. 

“Stop,” Lucius bit off after some time,  his breathing really ragged. Izzy pulled away, catching his own breath. “All right...all right...unf.....you need to take a picture.” 

Izzy hesitated, torn between going for his camera and asking for clarification. Forming a coherent question right now might be a little beyond him. 

“My phone,” Lucius snapped and Izzy went for it, picking it up off the bedside table. He knew the code (his and Pete’s wedding anniversary), because Lucius often made him check his texts when he was ‘too tired’ to reach over and get it himself. “Get a good shot or how will I know what color to aim for?” 

Izzy’s fogged out brain coughed up some muscle memory and he managed to get a decent picture.

And he found he could ask a question if properly motivated. 

“Can I send this to myself?” 

“Yeah,” Lucius turned over, landing heavily on his back, he grinned up at Izzy. “You just have to tell me if you make use of it.” 

“I will,” he promised and handed Lucius his phone. He waited patiently as Lucius dragged a finger around the screen, made a considering noise then said, “Very good. That is quite a shade. You really earned it, worked hard. I’ll make sure you feel just as raked over as I do. 

“Stand up then bend over the bed. I’m going to need all the leverage I can get.” 

Izzy moved, bending down and resting his elbows on the mattress. He kept his eyes on the old top sheet that Lucius draped over the bed before they’d begun. They used it to ease cleaning up so often that Izzy associated the sea green shade of it with the smell of come. 

One palm swept over his ass. Lucius always warmed him up first, left his skin tingling. Then it was the anticipation, the coiling tension of the moment before Lucius’ hand swept down with a resounding crack. It rolled through Izzy and he pressed his forehead against the top of his hand. The ring on its chain swung forward, knocking gently against his cheek. 

“Just barely a blush,” Lucius said calmly as he aimed lower to catch the top of Izzy’s thighs. “This could take a while. I’m going to fuck you once I get you the right shade. Grind right into all these lovely red patches....mmm. Start counting the slaps. If you miss one, you don’t get to come until tomorrow morning. 

“One,” Izzy said readily, his breath caught his throat. 

He counted carefully, the number climbing up dizzyingly until he barely existed except in the palm of Lucius’ hand. When the blows stopped Lucius just dug his hand into overheated flesh. 

“Fuck,” Izzy panted out, swimming in a chemical soup. 

“That’s the idea.” 

Lucius stepped away for a moment and came back, one hand rubbing over Izzy’s abused flesh. The other was doubtless wrapped around the glass bottle of lube, warming to body temperature. No matter what little bits of torture Lucius liked to devise for him, Izzy had never felt the touch of cold lubrication. He had no idea why that was the hill Lucius died on, but the care of it was almost as good as the pain. 

There was prep and Izzy mostly tuned it out, only coming fully back to the moment as Lucius slid home, filling him entirely. Lucius’ hips ground against Izzy’s ass and it sent sparing remains of ache along with the intractable pressure of a diligent fuck. They moved together after that, the push pull spiraling through the both. 

Izzy must’ve done a good job keeping count, because Lucius took his cock in hand and started jerking him off in time with his thrusts. 

“Tell me when you're close,” Lucius demanded. 

“Already there,” he admitted. 

“Then I’m going to let you come, my lovely boy and then you’re going to turn over and let me paint your face. Understood?” 

“Yes, pup.” 

Once Lucius gave permission, Izzy came with a near sob, already half-worn through. But as soon as Lucius released him and pulled out, he turned over. Lucius’ clean hand cupped his cheek. 

“I’m going to make such a mess of you,” he said tenderly. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Just...stay...” 

It was no hardship to watch Lucius take himself in hand and stroke his cock. His thighs were still flushed a rosy pink, the same shade as the bottom lip he was currently biting and then heat splattered over Izzy’s lips, chin and cheek. He darted out his tongue and Lucius’ moan broke in half. 

“Unbelievable,” Lucius groaned, eyes shuttered. “Go wash your face and brush your teeth so I can kiss you like you deserve.” 

His legs were a little shaky, but bore up as Izzy went to the bathroom. He cleaned as far as he’d been told and returned to the bedroom with mint on his breath. Lucius hadn’t gone far, just sitting on the edge of the bed. He held out his arms and Izzy went into them, folded down in his warm embrace.

Izzy was kissed the way Lucius thought he deserved. 

It was one of those days when Izzy could bring himself to believe him.

[mellowswriting]

I saw that requests are open! would it be possible for you to write a follow up to Second Chances with javi and reader? Maybe you have another kid and this time javi is able to be there for you throughout the whole pregnancy, and get to experience the first kick, you giving birth, etc (I am a sucker for domestic!javi if you can't tell haha) I think it would be really cute!!

From the Beginning

pairing || Javier Peña x afab!Reader

summary || Javier gets to experience the chaotic excitement of welcoming a new baby to the family.

word count || 6,466 

warnings || kid fic, pregnant reader, non-graphic childbirth, some spiciness but no smut, dad!Javi being adorable 

a/n || I can’t even express how much I love writing about the boys as dads, especially Javier! I really hope you all enjoy this, it was so very much fun to write.

Main Masterlist  |   Join the taglist!

Early spring mornings always had a special quality about them. The air was never too hot, pleasantly warm with a hint of a cool breeze that still lingered from winter’s sharp grip. Plants were beginning to bloom, the trees regaining their bright green foliage that ruffled in a symphony with every pass of the wind. Spring was the bringer of warmth after the ice and snow, the nurturer that coaxed seeds to sprout and flourish, the guide for new life and hope.

Ironic, then, that those very qualities you had grown to love were the ones causing you so much inner turmoil that you couldn’t even enjoy the gorgeous morning happening around you. You hadn’t even realized what was happening at first. Mother nature hadn’t exactly gifted you with a cycle that could be easily followed and predicted. Instead you had the supreme pleasure of having to carry around menstrual products everywhere you went and having to replace your underwear far more often than usual. So when you went two months without the waves of cramps and frustration of your period, it wasn’t all that remarkable.

It was when you were doing some last minute grocery shopping the night before that you realized something was off. Well, more off than usual. The sight of the shelves of tampons made your stomach bottom out with realization. You must’ve made quite a sight as you stood in that aisle with a cart half full of food, just staring at tampons with dread. Two boxes of pregnancy tests got tossed in with the various other items in your cart and you hoped that Javier was too tired from work to insist he help you put away the groceries.

For once, the universe appeared to be on your side. Your husband was sitting on the floor with Elianna, a spread of coloring books and crayons scattered on the living room carpet, and he actually listened to you when you waved him off to carry the bags in yourself. The tests were tucked away in the bathroom behind your tampons - ironic, yes, but it was the one place Javier really wouldn’t be poking around.

Honestly, a part of you felt bad for not telling Javier right away. He had more than proven himself as a great father and husband in the nearly two years since he returned to your life. Those irrational little fears of him leaving you and little Ellie had been crushed into nothing in the wake of the role he readily took on with his daughter, but this was different. Maybe it was pretty naive of you to not have that conversation with him, but it was something you thought you still had time for.

The plus sign on the pregnancy tests told you the time for that conversation was now, apparently. You were grateful for the timing of your little realization. Saturday mornings saw the standing trend of your sister whisking Ellie away for some ‘auntie and niece time’, and you really didn’t want her to feel the tension you were carrying. She was such a perceptive little girl that had an eye for everything.

Javier was still asleep. You usually slept in with him on the weekends, but you were restless to find out if your period was just pulling a fast one on you or if you actually were pregnant. Now you had four positive tests sitting in front of you and a sleeping husband who you couldn’t decide whether or not to wake up. Luckily, you ended up not having to make that choice since two sharp raps of his knuckles against the bathroom door snapped you out of your trance.

The door opened a millisecond after you snatched up the tests and hid them behind your back, not so unlike Ellie when she was hiding a treat she wasn’t supposed to have yet. The difference was that you didn’t know if this would be a treat to Javier. He was still half asleep, his thin pajama pants slug low on his hips and his eyes squinted against the bathroom light.

“G’morning,” He grunted as he moved to shuffle past you. “Move over, I gotta piss.”

You were rooted to the spot, though, your brain floundering to gain control of your muscles. “Uhm…”

“What’s wrong?” Javier slowly perked up through his sleepy haze at the realization that you looked downright terrified. He put his hand on your bicep and squeezed slightly. “Is Ellie okay?”

“What? No, yeah, Ellie’s fine. She’s with Amelia.” You spluttered, cringing at your inability to function.

“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Javi pressed. There really wasn’t any hiding things from him. Ellie must get that sharp eye of hers from her father. “What are you holding behind your back?”

You tried to swallow down the thickness that enveloped your throat to form some sort of words, literally anything to convey to him what the hell was going on, but your body was seized with fear. So you held out the tests wordlessly. His eyebrows furrowed as he took the bundle of tests from your hand, staring at them with a split second’s confusion before it dawned on him. “This…? You…?”

“Yeah.” You whispered. The worry in your voice must’ve been obvious because Javier was on you in a second flat, his arms crowding you into his chest with a crushing strength.

“You’re pregnant?” Javier croaked into your neck and the dam of emotion in your chest crumbled. His voice was full of excited disbelief, and relief crashed over you.

“Yeah, I am.” You said with a tearful chuckle, winding your arms around him to burrow yourself even further into his chest. “I know we never really talked about having another kid but… is this something you want, Javi?”

“Fuck, this is ironic.” Javier laughed quietly and when you looked up at him, he avoided your eyes with an almost bashful look. “I was gonna ask you today if you ever thought about it. Do you have any idea how many times I went over it in my head?”

You couldn’t help it - you cracked up laughing. The whole thing was almost ridiculous - the both of you worrying despite wanting the exact same thing. Tears of relief and laughter soaked into his t-shirt as you both broke into chaotic laughter, fingers clutching at each other’s shirts as you tried to catch your breath.

“So, uh… are we doing this?” Javier sounded nervous, his hands rubbing up and down your back as if to reassure himself. “You really wanna have a baby with me? Again?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was choked with a tense mix of emotions, so you cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I do.”

“I can’t… fuck, I can’t believe you - you’d… thank you.” He babbled, nearly unintelligible in his scramble to convey how fucking grateful he was, but you knew. It wasn’t the first time you had heard the desperate need to spit words he couldn’t really find, the words that matched the swell of emotions in his chest that still wasn’t used to voicing. “Fuck, Ellie’s gonna be such a good big sister.”

That choked you up more than you expected. She really would be, you knew that for a fact, but it was a dream you had boxed up and shoved on a shelf with all your other unrealistic dreams for your future. Never in your life did you let yourself really think you could have the whole package deal - the loving (albeit gruff) husband, the big house, the sound of little feet chasing each other through the halls…

“Wait, how long have you been…? Or do we have to see a doctor first? Oh shit, we have to find a doctor for you, what the fuck are they called..? A fucking... obstetrician!” Javi rambled in a mix of nerves and excitement, breaking from your embrace to pace the length of the bathroom. “How are you feeling? Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help, because -”

“Javi, breathe!” You calmed him with both hands out to stop his walking and braced your hands on his shoulders to rub at him firmly. “We have plenty of time, okay? Let me go make some coffee for you and we can sit down and make a plan. First, didn’t you have to go to the bathroom?”

“Oh… yeah.”

----------

Javier couldn’t stop bouncing his knee. It was a subconscious thing, something he stopped the moment he realized but soon found it moving of its own volition all over again. He really was trying not to let his nerves show even though he knew that you could tell. It was all so new to him, which wouldn’t be a problem if the reminder didn’t gut him every goddamn time. He couldn’t imagine how alone you must have felt the first time around when you were pregnant with Elianna, especially in these cold, sterile doctors offices.

His grip tightened on your hand. The feeling of your fingertips pressed against the top of his hand kept him grounded, helped him remind himself that there was no going back and changing everything else that happened. All he could do was be there this time around, be the best version of himself that he could be for you and his kid - well, kids now. Plural. The excitement was almost enough to drown away the guilt. Javi really could barely believe that he was getting the privilege of experiencing this with you.

“I’ve seen files on drug lords shorter than all that.” Javier nodded at the pile of forms and paperwork you held in your lap and you laughed brightly. He preened a little at the sound. It was something he could never get enough of, that laugh of yours. “I love you.”

You looked up at him, the pen in your hand stopping its constant scratching for the first time in forever, and gave him a lopsided smile. “I love you, too.”

There was no way he wasn’t going to kiss you after that adorable little display. Your cheek felt soft against his palm and the little sigh of relief you huffed against him was addictive. Just knowing that he was an anchor for you made Javier feel so incredibly loved and important and all he wanted to do was imbue you with that same sense of security. He held you close, his hand slipping back to the back of your neck to keep you right where he wanted you, and gave you those soft little kisses that never failed to make you melt.

“Mrs. Peña?” A nurse called out and he had no choice but to let you go with one last peck against your lips. He followed you and the nurse into the exam room, nerves and excitement soaring even higher in his chest.

It was kind of fascinating, watching you answer the nurse’s barrage of questions. Questions about your medical history, how many pregnancies you’ve had, all about your menstrual cycle. The two of you went back and forth for at least fifteen minutes, tossing questions and answers back and forth like a tennis match. The nurse left with the promise of the doctor being in momentarily for an ultrasound.

“Come hold my hand?” You asked, and how could he deny such a sweet request?

“Of course,” He pulled a chair from across the room and settled himself next to the exam table, both of his hands wrapping around one of yours as he brought it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “So what happens now?”

“The doctor will give me an ultrasound. She’ll probably want to run some blood tests, too.” You sighed, obviously uncomfortable at the thought of needles.

“I’ll hold your hand then, too.” Javier promised.

“It’ll be good practice for you, ‘cause once I’m in labor I’ll probably break your hand.” You teased and yeah, broken fingers didn’t sound all that great but fuck, he was more than ready to let you do just that. Javier wanted to be your rock, wanted to support you through it all - especially since he couldn’t the first time.

Two quick knocks sounded against the door made Javier straighten up hastily. The doctor came in with a smile and a large machine wheeling in behind her. “Good morning, mom and dad! How’re we feeling?”

“All good here, Dr. Hall. A little nauseous, but still… good.” You gave Javier’s hand a little squeeze before letting go to unbutton your jeans and fold the waistband down, followed by pulling the hem of your shirt up. It was hard to believe that the beginning of an entire new life was right there between your hips.

“Good to hear!” Dr. Hall fiddled with the ultrasound machine for a moment before turning to you. “So today we’re going to take a look and find out how far along you are, make sure mom and baby both look healthy, okay?”

“Okay,” You and Javier said in unison, and he took your hand again, needing to feel you there with him.

The gel must’ve been cold based on the way you hissed slightly. Javier watched the screen as Dr. Hall trailed the wand over your belly, lips parting at the sight of the black and white image. It was hard to make out what exactly he was seeing at first, but the image shifted slightly and he could make out the tiniest, vague shape of the newest edition to his little family.

“It looks like you’re about ten weeks along.” Dr. Hall murmured without taking her eyes off of the screen. “Baby is about the size of a plum.”

Javier squeezed your hand lightly, the both of you sparing a glance at each other before staring back at the screen in wonder. The doctor pointed out the baby’s head and a little foot as she took her measurements, reassuring you both that everything looked perfect. He gave a rushed “yes, absolutely” when she asked if he wanted the ultrasound photos - there was a spot in his wallet that he had in mind for it already.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been in situations that left him shocked before. This was Javier Peña, after all. Life and career experiences had given him plenty of moments where his mind was completely washed blank with surprise, but never had it been such a good thing. There were so many times that the shock was accompanied by grief or anger, but excitement? Gratefulness? That was new to him, left him reeling the entire drive home, all throughout dinner. Something in the back of his mind nagged at him that he couldn’t be like this when Ellie got home the next day. She was smarter than he could’ve imagined any kid being at three years old and even though he agreed with your assertion that no one should know about your pregnancy for a few more weeks at least, Javier was certain his daughter would be able to needle it out of him.

Those expert interrogation skills must be hereditary.

It wasn’t until he was getting ready for bed that it really hit him how real it was, that you really were sitting in the bed you shared with him, pregnant with his baby and making plans for the usual Sunday brunch and park visit you all did every week. As he set his wallet on the nightstand, he couldn’t help but pull out the little ultrasound picture. He had a feeling he would be doing that a lot, especially when the new cadets were driving him crazy at work. It all swelled up in his chest, the appreciation and excitement and disbelief, because holy shit, how did he get so lucky? One finger traced the little image in his hand, and he couldn’t help but blurt out, “Thank you.”

The confused look you gave him made him flounder for the words.

“I just… I know everything was fucked up the first time around but I swear, it’s going to be different this time. I am not going anywhere.” Javier slid closer at the sight of the tears in your eyes, easily welcoming your arms around his neck as you practically drug yourself into his lap. He held you close to his chest, trying to instill the certainty and promise of it all. “God, fuck, and I thought I couldn’t get enough of you before…”

“Javi…” You croaked, laughing wetly into his neck.

“I’m serious! You’re gonna have to tell me to fuck off when you want space because I can’t keep my hands off you.” Javi teased, relief washing over him at your seeming acceptance of his promises. “And now like this, growing my baby… fuck, I am in this with you. Me and you and Ellie… and our little plum.”

That night, Javier fell asleep with his head on your shoulder, his face buried in your neck, and his hand tucked into the waistband of your sweatpants to cradle that precious space that held his newest child.

----------

Ellie couldn’t stop touting her new title to anyone who would listen.

“I’m a big sister!” She told the cashier at the grocery store, the other kids at the park and their moms for good measure, and even the mailman when they came by each morning. The brightness in her eyes when she said it made your heart flip in your chest. You had expected some sort of confusion or even for her to be upset at the idea of a new sibling, but she launched right into a story about how her friend from playgroup has a baby sister, and you knew that she would be just fine.

With your sixteenth week rapidly approaching, you couldn’t be more grateful that Ellie was excited for the new addition to the family. It was one less thing for you to worry about amidst the chaos of bringing a new person into the world. The fatigue was something you definitely didn’t miss about pregnancy - it washed over you without warning, left you nodding off wherever you sat. Thank god Javier was such a hands on father. He had no problem herding Ellie off into the backyard or off for a walk to let you get some much needed rest.

You hadn’t expected him to be such a hands on husband, though. Sure, you knew he was excited and you knew he already loved everything about your body, but he really wasn’t lying when he said pregnancy made him want you even more. Every night, Javi’s hands gravitated to your body to ease the kinks out of your muscles, to rub your feet until the aches went away, to cheekily offer you an orgasm if you were up for one. It made you feel cherished, something you sorely missed the first time you were pregnant.

“Thank you, Javi,” You groaned lowly as those strong hands of his worked at your lower back. He easily hitched your thigh up slightly to ease some of the pressure on the new swell to your belly. There was a slur in your voice when you said, “Feels so good.”

Javier chuckled behind you, moving on to rub your feet. “Be quiet, you don’t want to wake Ellie.”

“Did you ever see this being our life?” You murmured though your voice was muffled by the pillows you buried your head in. “Telling each other not to wake the kids, making bacon smiley faces for a toddler’s breakfast?”

“I didn’t think I’d actually get it, but I wished for it. Dreamt about how pretty you’d look all full of me.” Javi placed a teasing kiss to the inside of your thigh. “The real thing is so much better.”

You could only groan under his praise. His thumbs dug into the arch of your foot and rubbed in methodical circles, drawing another pleased groan from you that you muffled in your pillow. The pain slowly melted from your tired muscles under his thorough ministrations, leaving a pleasant warmth in his wake that made you all pliant and drowsy beneath him.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Javi asked as he rubbed his hands up your calves and you smiled. You knew exactly what he was gunning for.

You eased yourself onto your back and reached out for him with both arms, bringing him forward with grabby hands that he could never refuse. Javier settled between your thighs, a knowing smirk on his face, and leaned down to kiss you deeply. “‘M feeling good, Javi.”

“You know I love making my girl feel good,” Javi murmured as he kissed down your neck, one hand trailing back and forth over your hip and thigh lovingly. “Can I make you feel even better?”

“Please?” You asked breathily and your husband was more than happy to oblige. The loose tank top you wore was the first to go, followed quickly by your shorts and underwear.

Javier set about lavishing your neck and chest with affection, his touch more gentle than usual on your oversensitive breasts, and once again you were struck by the surrealness of it all. The fact that this had begun in Colombia all those years ago as two coworkers using sex for stress relief and had blossomed into this beautiful life you shared together was a thing of dreams. But there you were, with Javier Peña making love to you, quietly as to not wake your daughter and gently as to keep you and your baby safe and happy, and you could barely believe it.

“I love you,” You choked out through the tears that sprung into your eyes and Javi sat up to look at you with a concerned expression.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, his eyes roaming all over to find the apparent source of your tears.

“Nothing’s wrong.” You tried to pull him back down to you but he didn’t budge, the concern unwavering.

“Then why are you crying?” Javier brushed a thumb under your eyes to wipe away the evidence of your strong burst of emotion.

“Because I love you,” You chuckled as you held his hand close to your cheek and pressed a kiss to the middle of his palm. “And I’m pregnant, so everything is a thousand times more intense and you don’t get to tease me for that.”

“I would never,” Javi muttered but the mischievous grin on his face betrayed him. “Let me make you feel better, baby,”

“I’m already better, Javi - oh,”

----------

Two o’clock in the morning was not an ideal time to wake up, especially since Javier knew that Ellie would be awake and full of energy by seven, but something felt off. Even in his unconscious state, he could feel the absence of you in bed and his mind nagged at him to get up and find you. The hardwood was cold beneath his feet as he wandered from the bedroom, finding the bathroom empty before he made his way down the stairs. You often would rest on the recliner in the living room when your back was bothering you particularly bad, especially since your center of gravity had so drastically changed the further along you got in your pregnancy - but you weren’t there either.

Before Javi could start really worrying, he heard the refrigerator open and found you peering into the illuminated fridge in search of… something. A pint of ice cream was already in your hand, a spoonful of it hanging from your lips as you browsed with a frustrated look on your face, and honestly… Javi loved how you looked. It was so domestic and sweet, the sight of you in your pajamas that barely covered your belly as you raided the kitchen.

Thirty-six weeks and four days. He could barely believe how much time had passed since he saw those positive tests. It felt like forever and the blink of an eye at the same time, and he was beyond excited to meet his newest little one.

“What are you looking for, sweetheart?” Javi asked after a moment of watching you helplessly search around.

The sheepish smile you gave him made his heart swell in his chest and he automatically opened his arms as you shuffled over to bury your face in his chest. “Your kid is driving me crazy with the cravings.”

Javier hugged you tightly, relishing in the way you relaxed against him. “Well, if they’re anything like me, they probably want those barbecue chips, then.”

It didn’t take long for him to get you herded back up to bed with the chips in hand and the sight of you sleepily munching away while burrowed in the blankets eased an almost innate need Javier had to see you safe and happy, all nice and taken care of in his bed. He climbed into bed once he was sure you didn’t need anything else, settling on his side with his head propped up against his hand to watch you despite his own sleepiness.

“Let your mama sleep, troublemaker.” He murmured to your belly as he rubbed gentle circles over the spots he could feel the nudges of his little one retaliating to their father’s stern words. “Need some lotion?”

“Hmmm, please?” You hummed.

Rubbing lotion into your skin was something Javi had taken a particular liking to. The first time he had seen you doing it yourself, he was quick to take over. That was the first time he felt his little one kick at his hands and he fell even more in love - something he hadn’t thought was possible. It was a good way to feel closer to you both, to his wife and the baby you were bringing into the world, and the way you dozed slightly as he helped you relax made him feel needed, like he was doing right by you. That’s all he ever wanted to do.

A nudge to the edge of his hand made Javier glance back down to where his hands were running all over your belly, but it was the sight of the baby rolling that made him do a double take. “Holy shit,” He whispered, hands frozen as he saw what had to be the imprint of a little foot or hand poke out before disappearing. “There really is a whole person in there.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” You grumbled, grimacing slightly at the feeling. “It’s aerobics hour, apparently.”

“That’s fucking crazy.” Javi tentatively resumed massaging the lotion into your skin. It was hard to fathom, the idea that your body was so capable of creating and nurturing a brand new life, and for the millionth time he found himself thanking the universe for letting him have this second chance.

----------

Gabriel Peña came early, quick, and with a sharp cry you were sure could be heard throughout the entire hospital. His little nose was scrunched up, his face all red from his wailing, hands curled into angry fists over his sudden eviction from the warmth and darkness he was accustomed to. It was a short labor, so very different from your first with Ellie for so many reasons but the biggest being the strong presence of Javier at your side. The moment the contractions began at the crisp hour of six a.m., he was alert and full of nervous excitement.

True to his word, Javier let you clutch onto him through it all - every contraction, every push, every angered grumble you threw his way for getting you pregnant in the first place. That sharp mind of his kept up under the pressure. He spoonfed you ice chips and let you use him for support as you rocked your way through particularly bad contractions.

There were tears in Javier’s eyes as he carefully set his hand on his son’s head, carefully musing the shock of dark, wispy hair on his head. You leaned your head against Javi’s shoulder, exhaustion, relief, and happiness warring with each other after hours of labor. You felt his lips press against your temple before he sniffled and whispered, “Thank you.”

Javier stayed by Gabriel’s side the entire time the doctors checked him over and cleaned him up, per your instructions, and he was the one to return your son to your arms. It was the most careful you had ever seen him, his movements slow and deliberate, eyes on the baby’s adorable, chubby face.

“Seven pounds, nine ounces,” Javi murmured as he drug a chair as close to your bedside as possible and settled in, his hand resting on your thigh. A disgruntled whine came from the baby wriggling in your arms and you smiled, knowing he was hungry and could probably smell the milk your body had been preparing to make for his arrival. You pulled the gown down to expose your breast, propping your arm with a pillow to better support him, and adjusted his latch to settle in.

“Nice latch, mama,” One of the nurses said as she finished settling the blankets around your feet.

“Not my first time at this rodeo.” You chuckled quietly. It had been a while since Ellie weaned but you still remembered the struggle of figuring out how to get a newborn to latch properly when you had no idea what you were doing. You set your hand over Javi’s, smiling at him when he blinked sleepily up at you. Neither of you had gotten much rest before Gabriel decided to make his appearance into the world. “Can you hand me some water, honey?”

“Of course,” Javi perked up with the small task you gave him. There wasn’t much he could do at this point, but you wanted him to feel involved, to feel like he was helping you, and even though his mere presence helped you relax, you knew he was an ‘action’ kind of man. He needed something to do to feel useful. He held the straw steady for you and everything, your sweet husband. “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired.” You answered honestly, leaning into his hand when he brushed stray hairs from your face.

“I know this wasn’t easy. I’m proud of you.” It was a simple statement but it hit you right in your chest. As excited as you were to have another baby, it was hard. Exhausting. He could see it all, how tired you were and how hard you were working just to carry on like normal through your pregnancy, and while he did everything he could to ease some of that burden, the plain acknowledgement of how hard you worked felt good.

“I love you so much.” You whispered, pulling his hand close to kiss his palm.

“I love you, too.” Javier leaned over the side of the bed and kissed you softly, careful not to jostle his son where he sleepily nursed against you. “How are our kids so damn cute?”

You huffed a laugh, which made Gabriel shift against you before settling back down, sighing suspiciously similar to his father. “It helps that their dad is incredibly good looking.”

“True,” Javi said, trying for that cocky tone you loved but you didn’t miss the pink tinge to the tips of his ears. Compliments always got him like that, all red-faced and adorable - though he would never admit it.

A short nap later and you had one very excited Ellie fidgeting in the chair next to your bed, impatiently waiting to meet her baby brother. Javier stood behind her, quietly reminding her to be careful as you helped keep the squirming newborn steady in her lap. Your heart damn near exploded when she began cooing at her brother and very gently touching his soft cheeks. She was enamored by him, asking so many questions that you and her father could barely keep up.

“Can we share my bed?” “No, he can’t sleep in your bed, baby. He has to sleep in a special bed in mommy and daddy’s room.”

“Does he get a special seat like me?” “Yep! Daddy’s putting his carseat in next to yours right now. You’ll get to talk to him the whole way home.”

“Is he gonna cry a lot?” “Yeah, he will. That’s how babies let people know they need something since they don’t have words like we do.”

“Can I share my crackers with him?” “Not yet! Right now, he only drinks milk.” “Milk? Like for cereal?” “Kind of, but it comes from your mommy.” “What?!” “You ate the same thing when you were a little baby, too.” “What?!”

The entire drive home was full of little Ellie chatting away at her baby brother, mostly about the stuffed animals she had at home that she promised to show him the moment they got home. There was a small smile on Javier’s face as he drove, his hand curled around yours on the center console. He practically radiated contentment and damn did it look good on him.

----------

For what felt like the millionth time, you woke before the sun had a chance to rise. Though this time, it was to the feeling of a full bladder rather than the sound of a hungry baby, so that could be counted as a small win at the very least. You tried to ignore the ache in your healing body as you stumbled your way to and from the bathroom, near silent in your movements even though you were half asleep. It was a well practiced dance, getting out and back into bed without waking your sleeping children.

But something was off. The sheets were cooler than usual, missing the fire-like heat that Javier radiated constantly. You sat up, blinking against the drowsiness and darkness to see your husband passed out on the rocking chair in the corner of the room with Gabriel curled up on his bare chest. Skin-to-skin contact was something Javier couldn’t get enough of. He told you how close it made him feel to his son and you couldn’t complain. It was a precious sight. Avoiding the creaky floorboards, you carefully covered Gabriel with a soft baby blanket and smoothed it down his back.

“S’wrong?” Javier mumbled, words slurred with sleep, his eyes barely cracking open. On instinct, his hands shifted over the little baby asleep on him to hold him closer, even more secure.

“Shh, nothing’s wrong.” You soothed as you gently tucked his curls back away from his forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

“M’kay.” And with that his eyes were closed, back to dozing like he was never interrupted in the first place. You were glad. Tomorrow was an early morning, and paired with all of the midnight feedings and diaper changes, you all could use some rest. So you laid back down, sleep dragging you back under swiftly.

Javier was practically bouncing with nerves just hours later, even though he was trying not to show it. It brought you back to that first appointment when you were pregnant, only this time he held a sleeping one-month old who he was trying not to wake up with his nervousness.

“I just want it to go well.” He grumbled when you asked if he was okay.

“It will.” You reassured him, rubbing circles into his knee. “They’re both perfectly healthy, the pediatrician will tell you that, too.”

You were right - then again, when weren’t you? Gabe was a healthy nine and a half pounds, strong heart and lungs, and good reflexes. Javier was hooked on the pediatrician’s every word, nodding along and giving you a relieved smile with each positive statement. And of course, Ellie’s rambunctiousness had the pediatrician and nurses completely captivated as she told them all about her preschool and the antics she got up to while they checked her over.

The pride on Javier’s face with every positive comment and reassurance that both of his kids were on track developmentally made your heart flip. You felt so beyond lucky to have this little family of yours, with two beautiful children and the man you always loved. It felt too good to be true sometimes, especially when Javi pulled you close for a tight hug and a kiss to the side of your head before he worked to get one wiggly Gabe back into his onesie.

One impromptu trip to the park later and you and Javier had two very tired kids on your hands. Ellie was already passed out by the time Javier pulled into the driveway but Gabe was quickly venturing into ‘overtired’ territory. He was grumpy, wriggling around in your arms like he couldn’t get comfortable, all the while giving little whines and grunts that threatened to turn into full on wailing. He didn’t want milk, he didn’t need a diaper change, he just wanted to sleep but was too frustrated to let a nap take him.

“Give ‘em here.” Javier offered and you freely handed him over. The postpartum fatigue was no joke, and even though it was lessening with each passing day, you were damn tired so you had no issue with letting your husband put the baby down for a nap. You curled up on the couch, not quite going to sleep but still letting your mind and body rest as you listened to Javi try to negotiate with Gabriel as if he were some sicario and not just a particularly stubborn baby.

“C’mon, little man. Just go to sleep. All of your problems if you went to sleep right now? Solved. Completely solved. Instead of crying you could just… go to sleep.” Javier whispered over the cooing and grunting of his son. “Oh, don’t give me that face, mister.”

You snorted a laugh - you knew exactly what face Gabe was pulling. His nose and eyebrows would scrunch up, lips pursed as he huffed angry breaths like a little baby bull. It was an exaggerated copy of the face Javier pulled anytime he was frustrated, which you found ridiculously adorable. Slowly, the grumpy grunts became more and more quiet until they disappeared completely, and a few moments later, Javier flopped down on the couch next to you with a sigh.

“Got him down.” Javi said as he pressed close to you, burying himself between the back of the couch and your body to press his face into your neck. A blanket of drowsiness must have settled over the entire house as both kids napped peacefully in their beds and you cuddled up to your husband in the living room. The both of you would doze until the sound of little feet on the hardwood or the sounds of a hungry baby woke you, and then it would be back on the grind of parenthood, but you knew… with Javier by your side, you could do it.

{Taglist}

@iamburdened @everyhowlmarksthedead @jenrebloggingfics @xserenax-13 @silverstarsandsuns @luminescentlily @peterpstuff @leonieb @lazybeeches @withasideofmeg @freeshavocadoooo @chattychell @ew-erin @i-ship-it-ironically @artsymaddie @mrsparknuts @wyn-dixie @notabotiswear @lunaserenade @jitterbugs927 @theorganasolo @the-witty-pen-name @northernpunk @lemonlime09 @la-lunaluna @andruxx @greeneyedblondie44 @bloodsuckingbastards @coldlilheart @gracie7209 @green-socks @paintballkid711 @lord-of-restingbiface @asta-lily @xgoldenjenny @mummifymecaptain @cjbtw @a-skov @himbotroy @xjsteph @marvelousmermaid @over300books @castleamc @darnitdraco @janebby @cannedsoupsucks @itssmashedavo @mtjoi @triggerhappyflygirl 

[residentdormouse]

Find the Words Tag

Thank you @scienceoftheidiot for the tag!

My Words were: Smile, Dream, Tear(s), Dark, and Soft.

You guys are going to get sick of me posting these 😂 but here goes. All but one word was in the last chapter (and three of them within the same scene in that chapter). The missing word? Dream. I had to go back to Chapter 30. For 'dream'. When the canon source material has everybody getting haunted by this MF in their nightmares. I can't readily find dream?! Wtf am I doing?!

But, this is all from the last chapter - most are vague enough to just post as is, but all instances of 'tears' are spoiling a major event that happens later in Diving. If that is a concern, skip that one.

Since this is like the fourth I've done (😬) I'm just giving an open tag: if you want to join - please '@' me!!

Words: devour, dive, dig, dear, damned

My Answers:

Smile (Chapter 34)

"I uh… thanks for… if we don't…well…"

Thanks for everything if we don't make it out alive. The blanks were easy enough to fill in, despite Lloyd's current inability to come to the words himself.

With a sincere smile, she placed her hand on his shoulder. What she had heard of his past, maybe this response from him should have been a surprise, but it wasn't to her. Maybe she came in too late to see the man who had earned the reputation following him, but the man in front of her now, the man that came to Haven, that man was sincere in his intentions. Fit right along with the loudmouth tavern corner occupants, but never truly gave her a cause for concern. No, this man had always been a good one. If only he could see that too.

Another set of silent nods, and he was off.

Dream (Chapter 30)

"You didn't ask for him to show up in your head, did you? Didn't come to him uninvited?" He waited for her reply to the negative before continuing. "Yeah, thought not. From what I've gathered, between you and Lloyd, what we've seen, what I've seen, this magic, abilities, whatever you want to call it, it's not easily controlled."

His smile still held the prior compassion, his tone lighthearted, but she didn’t register it. Couldn’t. All she could see was the recent dream. All she could feel was guilt.

"He hadn't even started anything, Glen. Being an annoying ass, but that's it. I just got so… I wanted something bad to happen. I did. Did and didn't. I don't know."

Tears (Chapter 34)

**************SPOILERS*****************

Despite the prior context, a laugh broke through and caused a hiccup in the flow of sadness and tears from before.

“But now that that’s established, looks like up and running got you back in quite the spot again, yeah?”

"I…. Glen, I just… You were right. Down and still. I mean, what's the point of it all? Everything just gets more confusing, and violent, and then people die. You died…"

"I know… I know, but you have to head back there anyway. And you have people that are counting on you. Worlds. Universes. No, can't give up on them, you know you can't. Won’t. Deep down. You know that, and you helped me see that.” His hand came out to lightly tap her on the chin in a loving manner, but it only caused the tears to flow freely once more. While unsaid, she heard the “aw Hell’ sighed under his breath before he pulled her back into a hug, gently rocking her in place. A few additional moments were spent here before he once again pulled backward. “But you can't go back like you were either. What’s done is done, you can’t keep holding in your pain. Inflicting it on others…”

************END SPOILERS***************

Dark (Chapter 34)

Familiar knots in the wood gave away her location before she could even stand up from the floor of her cabin. Thoughts went back to the moment before. Lloyd and Flagg. Rayna. Then darkness. She was trying to take her out of the game. Fuck if she was going to sit by and let her do it.

The bookshelf was her first stop, and it took the brunt of her wrath. Books landed harshly against the floor as she threw them from their place. One after another after another, but there was no teal book to be found this time. No need for it anymore. No need for locking away secrets. No hope of pulling herself out of this state with its help.

Another burst of devastating anger, and she tipped the empty bookcase down on the floor. Splinters shooting outward almost drowned out the voice coming from the kitchen.

“Well, I’m sure that’ll be fun to clean up later.”

Soft (Chapter 34)

She took one hesitant step forward. One more. And without any further delay, she rushed towards him. Arms wrapped around his back and held him tight enough that if he wasn��t solid, she would have absorbed him with the force. But he was solid. He was there in front of her. She could touch him. Kiss him.

And with the realization, the action followed. Desperation fueled grasps at connection, as her lips met his. But no matter how much she felt him there, the tickle of his beard on her face, the glide of his hair through her fingers, the taste of him jolting her senses, she couldn’t understand how it was possible.

“Fuck… How are you… I… you…”

And there was that chuckle, that soft sound that always exuded a lightness which reverberated inside her until she had no choice but to relinquish whatever negativity she was holding on to. Let it all go, and just be there. With him.

[perlukafarinn]

(ao3)

The day starts out pretty unremarkable. Dean wakes up at the crack of dawn to Cas slipping out of bed for his morning jog. He pulls him down for a good-morning kiss that turns into a make-out session that turns into them trading lazy handjobs and then falling asleep in each other’s arms again. 

Their actual start to the day is around ten AM, when Cas finally gets up for his jog and Dean gets up for his cereal and a scroll through the morning news. He’s on the look for hunts, mostly out of habit since there’s been very little monster activity since Chuck went and fucked off for good. He doesn’t find anything this morning but that’s hardly a surprise. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve been out on a hunt and that inactivity, weirdly enough, is starting to bother him less and less. 

Cas comes back from his jog about an hour before noon and with the mildest of prodding convinces Dean to join him in the shower. Afterwards, they throw together a lunch made from yesterday’s leftovers, taking their time eating and playing footsie under the table, because that’s apparently the kind of couple they are.

Usually by this time of day, Cas would be off in the Men of Letters’ library working on translations or cataloging and Dean would be on the phone helping Garth help out young, out-of-their depth hunters or in the garage, working on one of the beautiful but sadly neglected vehicles left behind there decades ago. 

Today, both of them are seemingly feeling kind of lazy and so hardly any work gets done. It’s not until late in the afternoon that Dean feels the urge to do something productive and suggests they go out for groceries, which Cas readily agrees to. 

The ride into town is quiet. Cas plays his mixtape - the damn thing should be worn out by now and Dean should  long since be sick of it but for reasons too sappy to mention he isn’t - and they sit and listen in comfortable silence. It’s not until they pass the town hall on their way to the supermarket that Cas gets a contemplative look on his face.

“Should we get married?”

Only years of experience behind the wheel prevent Dean’s hands from twitching wildly and veering them into oncoming traffic.

“What.”

Cas looks over, frowning. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Is there any reason for us not to get married? We’re already planning on staying together for the rest of our lives.”

“Is there any reason-” Dean wheezes. “What the fuck, Cas? Is this your idea of a proposal?”

“Are you saying no?” Cas asks, mildly curious, as if they’re talking about the fucking weather and not getting married. “Because we don’t have to.”

Dean stares ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you actually asking?”

“I suppose I am.”

“You ‘suppose’,” Dean mocks. “Gee, Cas, that’s real romantic.”

“Will you marry me?”

Dean pulls over. It’s far too sudden, probably leaving tire tracks in the concrete, and the driver behind them honks his horn loudly as he passes. Dean ignores him, taking a deep breath as he finally turns to face Cas. 

“Are you sure?”

He doesn’t really have to ask - Cas wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t sure - but he needs to hear it. 

Thankfully, Cas seems to get that. “I want to marry you, Dean. Do you want to marry me?”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes. “I mean - yes. Yeah, I do.”

Cas nods decisively. “Alright then. Now?”

“Now?”

It’s not exactly how Dean imagined this scenario would go (not that he - shut up) but it’s somehow the most romantic fucking thing that’s ever happened to him since Cas first told him he loved him. And hey, this time no one had to die!

They turn around, since there’s no point in going in without (forged) birth certificates. Once they get to the town hall, shortly before closing, they find out that it’s a three-day mandatory waiting period between applying for a marriage license and them actually being allowed to get married.

Cas suggests they use the interim time to pick up wedding rings. They wind up spending the next day driving to Topeka, where they find a couple of silver rings in a pawn shop. They’re tarnished but otherwise in good condition and once they get home, Dean spends the rest of the evening cleaning them while trying very hard not to think about just what they’re for.

The second day, Cas spends out back tending to his garden while Dean almost dials Sam’s number repeatedly before hanging up, torn between wanting to let his brother know that he’s getting married and not wanting to jinx it.

The third day, they head back into town. They arrive at the town hall just after it opens and it’s not until they’re standing in front of the clerk that Dean realizes they don’t have any witnesses. The clerk assures him that they don’t need one for civil ceremonies and the next ten minutes pass in a blur until Dean is being prompted to place the ring on Cas’ finger.

He does so with shaking hands, stilled only once Cas places one of his own on top and gives Dean a patient smile. He’s this calm for a reason, Dean finally realizes.

This doesn’t change anything.

Married or not, they’ve already promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. Til death do them part doesn’t even begin to describe it, and in sickness and in health is almost laughable at this point.

This really doesn’t change anything.

Dean’s own hand is still as Cas takes his turn, sliding the silver ring upon Dean’s finger. They say their “I do”s when prompted by the clerk, exchange a short, firm kiss, and just like that it’s over.

They’re married. 

*

When Jody invites them to dinner about a week later, they still haven’t told anyone. Sam and Eileen will be there as well as Jack and the girls - it’s a regular family reunion and the perfect chance to announce the big news to everyone.

Dean has a better idea.

“Let’s not tell anyone,” he says. “At least, not before dessert. Let’s see if they notice first.”

They’re in the Impala, about half an hour away from Jody’s place. 

Cas shoots him an amused look. “Is this because Sam claimed he always knew we’d get together when we first told him we were involved?”

“No,” Dean lies. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, seeing Cas still giving him that look from the corner of his eye. “Fine, yes. But he didn’t know, for the record. He just likes to pretend he’s always on top of this shit.”

“He doesn’t like to admit when you’ve surprised him,” Cas agrees.

The conversation ends there but Dean’s plan is apparently agreed upon since once they arrive at Jody’s, Cas doesn’t say a word about their recent relationship upgrade. Jody doesn’t seem to notice anything different, but then Dean didn’t expect her to. She’s not the one they spend most of their time around. Neither do Donna, Alex, Claire or Kaia, none of them surprises. Patience, Dean is less sure about, but she at least doesn’t say anything. Her eyes do linger unusually long but that could mean anything.

Damn psychics.

Sam and Eileen arrive half an hour after Dean and Cas, Jack in tow. This is the real test; Sam and Dean may not spend as much time together in the past few months as they did in the years before but he’s still the person who knows Dean best and would be the most likely to notice a difference.

And yet, nothing.

Dean tries not to feel too smug.

They go through dinner without anyone mentioning it. Dean makes a point of reaching across the table as many times as he can, showing off the ring glinting on his finger. Cas must notice him doing it, judging by the fond exasperation on his face, but he’s the only one.

It isn’t until dessert that Patience breaks, patience (hah) clearly run out:

“Is no one going to mention that Dean and Castiel are wearing wedding rings?”

And all hell breaks loose.

Sam is wounded - mostly over Dean and Cas not telling him before they got married, though Dean can tell some part of it is his pride at not seeing this coming - but he’s over it soon enough, once they explain that it wasn’t a big deal, not some proper ceremony, just a quick affirmation of what they already knew.

“See if I make you Best Man at my wedding after this, jerk,” Sam tells Dean.

“Your wedding?” Eileen asks pointedly. 

Jody and Donna offer their congratulations before the conversation can get awkward, and Kaia, Alex, and Patience chime in with theirs as well. Jack looks confused at the whole proceeding, finally asking whether this means there won’t be any bouquet to catch, which only means Dean has gravely failed him in his pop culture education (oh, who’s he kidding, as if half the romcoms Jack has watched didn’t come directly from the recommended tab on Dean’s Netflix account). 

Finally, with a pointed elbow from Kaia and a hangdog expression from Cas, Claire mumbles that she’s happy for them. While Dean doesn’t doubt that’s true he also knows that this is more complicated for her than the rest of them, and for the first time he kind of feels guilty about springing this news on everyone. 

It doesn’t last long, not after Donna cheerfully raises her glass and proposes a toast to the happy couple and everyone else follows suit. They chant for them to kiss and, blushing outrageously, Dean complies, leaning over to press a quick kiss against Cas’ lips. 

“So, who proposed?” Sam asks once the hooting and hollering has calmed.

“Cas did,” Dean says, slinging an arm around his husband’s - his husband’s - shoulders. “And it was the least romantic proposal of all time, you should’ve heard him.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “If I had left it up to you, we never would have gotten married.”

“He didn’t even give me time to pick out flowers,” Dean informs Sam gravely. 

“There’s always the vow renewal,” Cas says, the casual statement managing to sound like a threat, and Dean shuts up. 

The conversation moves on, the mood noticeably cheerier. As Jack and Sam launch into a story of their most recent hunt, Dean leans against Cas.

“We could have flowers, if you want,” he mutters. 

Cas smiles at him, so bright and easy that it makes Dean’s heart stutter. He takes Dean’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the cool silver of Dean’s ring.

“That’s not necessary,” he says. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

[booksofkingdomsandcourts]

Nessian Modern AU: Proposal

A “sequel” to the drabble here that I posted for Nessian Week. As always, what started as a drabble spawned a full-length oneshot. Anyway, writing Nessian was a joy and I look forward to writing more for them in the future. Enjoy!

Warning: Gets a little NSFW near the end because, you know. Them.

           Cassian could feel the little velvet box burning a hole in his suit jacket pocket. Were his hands shaking? He was sure they were shaking. Oh god, what if he dropped it? It probably wouldn’t go anywhere, they were pretty far from the edge of the balcony, but it would certainly be embarrassing.

           His smart watch buzzed and he looked down at it to see a text from Azriel that said Dude, you’re practically sweating through your suit. Chill the fuck out. Cassian looked up and glared over the table at him. Azriel made a little “calm down” motion with his hands, and Cassian was so wired that if they’d been sitting closer he would have decked him. Luckily, Nesta was engrossed in a conversation with Emerie and Mor and wasn’t paying attention. The way everyone kept glancing at Cassian he was sure that she would have noticed something was going on by now, but she seemed unaware.

           Of course, the party was already all about her, she just hadn’t seemed to realize that they were (hopefully) going to be celebrating more than one thing. When she had gotten accepted into law school Cassian had promised her a celebration for the ages, knowing it could double as the perfect chance to pop the question. He had tried to keep it on the down-low, but his brothers had seen right through him. As soon as he had said, “So I’m thinking about planning a trip to Vegas to celebrate Nesta getting into law school. I just want to do something really special for her, you know?” they had turned to him with matching grins and said,

           “Oh yeah? Just a casual trip to one of the most spectacular cities in the country?”

           “Any special shopping you need to do first?”

           Cassian had swung at them while they dodged and laughed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want them to know, it was just that he worried that someone would let something slip to Nesta and ruin the surprise. But then he realized there was no keeping everyone from knowing, because he had to ask Feyre and Elain for their blessing (they gave it readily, with squeals and big hugs), and then he had to ask Emerie and Gwyn to help him find out about rings. Now he sat with what he hoped was the perfect ring in his pocket, showy but classy, with two black diamonds set on either side of a shining two carat white diamond. Shiny and noticeable but…tastefully so, he hoped. That was what Emerie and Gwyn had reported, and really, he should have guessed that, because Nesta liked to be noticed, but only in a way where she was respected, or at least revered.

Now they sat on a private balcony for a dinner service Rhys had helped Cassian book overlooking the Vegas strip, lights and fountains glittering around them, the noise of the strip a pleasant background hum. They had all the usual suspects—Azriel, Rhys and Feyre, Mor and Amren and Varian, Elain and Lucien, and of course, Gwyn and Emerie. Everyone Cassian thought Nesta would want to be here, and the usual plus ones that had to be invited either way. He knew Nesta wouldn’t want a true Jumbotron-style public proposal, but surely this was okay, right? Just their friends? He didn’t think she’d want no one to see it, and yet—

           “Hey,” she said, putting her hand on his knee. He started, almost jumping out of his skin. She laughed. “What, did I startle you, sitting here exactly where I’ve been the whole time? Where are those judo reflexes now?”

           They all had a nice buzz going, though they were refraining from getting really messy until after dinner. Nesta was maybe the most openly happy Cassian had ever seen her, smiling and laughing and shining in a way that he had never seen before. He knew she was really proud to finally be going to law school after all this time. He could only hope that after this dinner her good mood would be doubled, not dampened.

           “Anyway,” Nesta continued, scooting her chair closer to his and sliding her hand dangerously up his thigh. “Could I steal you for a minute after dessert?”

           She looked fucking stunning tonight. Not that she didn’t always, but in that little black dress with her perfect tits tastefully on display, her lithe legs in those heels, and her hair swept up and away from her neck, Cassian might have asked to marry her even if she wasn’t his girlfriend. The only thing keeping his libido in check were his nerves, and if she said yes, it wasn’t going to be much of a competition between the two anymore. But until then….

           Cassian put his arm around her shoulders, trying to act natural. “I think we’re going to have cocktails then head out and hit the Strip again.”

           Nesta raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes. So it’ll be a while before we’re back in our room for the night. I was thinking we could just take a minute.” She moved her fingers on his leg again and with her other hand tilted his head to hers for a kiss. “You look so fucking good in that suit baby,” she whispered against his mouth.

           God, he couldn’t wait to marry her. He lost himself for a second, drinking in the feeling of her lips on his, her warm hand against his thigh. She had to say yes. She had to, or Cassian wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

           “Get a room!” Lucien called from the other side of the balcony. Cassian heard Elain chide him.

           Nesta pulled away and whipped back, “You are here on courtesy invite only, asshole.”

           “Nesta!” Elain complained.

           If there was anything that would put a damper on Cassian’s marriage plans it was that if he married Nesta and Lucien married Elain, he’d be stuck with the little shithead for the rest of his life. Then Cassian looked at Nesta, already laughing with Emerie again, her hand still resting on his leg, and knew that he couldn’t even pretend. Nothing could cause him to hesitate.

           That had to include his nerves. Now that they were finishing with dessert, the servers would be waiting for his speech before bringing out the cocktails and champagne. If he waited too much longer, Nesta would begin to wonder what the holdup was. Fuck his nerves. The last thing he was going to let keep him from marrying Nesta was himself.

           So Cassian stood, taking Nesta’s hand and standing her up. Her face brightened, and she gave him a look through her eyelashes. Then it turned to confusion as he started leading her out onto the balcony, in front of everyone.

           “Um, I was thinking we’d go inside,” she whispered to him, but he could hear the question in her playful tone. What the hell are you doing?

           What he came here to do.

“Everyone?” he said, just loud enough to beat the ambient noise of Vegas below them. They all turned to him from their scattered little tables, and he hoped Nesta wouldn’t read into the eagerness on their faces. Here it was: the main event.

           He didn’t let go of Nesta’s hand as he continued, “I want to thank you all so much for coming this weekend to celebrate the most incredible woman any of us have ever been blessed to have in their presence, soon to be the best attorney this nation has ever seen.”

           Everyone clapped as Nesta rolled her eyes and said, “Cassian, stop.” But she was smiling.

           He didn’t stop, but instead continued, “It has been such an honor to get to be the one by her side through all she has accomplished these past few years. ‘Now Cassian,’ you might be thinking, ‘surely some of that can be attributed to her incredible fitness coach.’ And you would be right,” he said, and as everyone laughed good-naturedly, he heard Nesta mutter, “Nevermind I fucking hate you.” He wasn’t facing her, but he could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

           “But in all seriousness, Nesta is the most amazing woman I have ever met. If you all could see her behind the scenes, how hard she works, how much she cares about her family and her friends,” Cassian paused to take Nesta’s other hand, turning her to face him. There were a hundred specific little things he could list, but knowing how easily she was embarrassed, he would leave it at that until they were alone. “I think you’d be pretty in love with her too.”

           There were a couple of “aw”s from the crowd, and Cassian was pretty sure Lucien’s was genuine. Nesta was blushing, but Cassian was glad to see she was still smiling. “Cassian, how drunk are you?" she laughed.

           “Just enough to fight my nerves,” he replied honestly.

           Her smile froze, and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. “What are you nervous about?”

           He gave her a grin that he was sure looked nervous as hell. “Would you be mad if I told you I might have had an additional motive for planning this trip?”

           He watched as her face changed, putting the clues together just as Cassian sank down onto one knee. She pulled her hands out of his, putting them both over her mouth as Cassian fished the little box out of the inside of his jacket and popped it open. He looked up into her eyes, wide as saucers now, and said, “Nesta Archeron. You are the strongest, sexiest, most capable, most remarkable woman I have ever been fortunate enough to cross the path of. I love everything about you, and I love everything about us. Marry me, Ness. I think we both know this is forever—let’s make it official.”

           She made a slight keening sound. Her face had turned very red, and Cassian could see that she was trembling. But at his question she started nodding frantically, and she choked out a, “Yes. Yes, yes.”

           Their little audience erupted into cheers as Cassian slid the ring onto her finger and stood. Before he could even kiss her, she pulled herself against him with crushing force, burying her face in his shoulder. He could feel her shuddering as she pulled in big, heaving breaths. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. Then, after a moment without her breaths settling, Cassian said, “Hey, are you okay?”

           “Yes,” Nesta said, pulling away just enough to talk. Her face was red and streaked with heavy tears. Her breaths were still labored, and Cassian suddenly realized she was genuinely hyperventilating. “Yes, I just, oh god, I can’t—” The words came out choppy as she tried to catch her breath, still crying. She buried herself back in his chest and he realized she was trying to hide her hysterics.

           “Okay, okay,” Cassian said quietly, hoping to calm her down before she made herself light headed and passed out. “Let’s step inside, okay? Are you okay to move?”

           She nodded, gasping. He gently put his hand on her waist and guided her past the tables. The rest of the party watched with concern, but he mouthed we’ll be right back as he led Nesta inside.

           The space inside was mostly just a hall to the balcony, so Cassian pulled Nesta aside to the little alcove by the bathrooms so they would be hidden from the big glass windows. As soon as they were out of sight he pulled her back close to him.

           “Just tell me this is happy crying,” he said.

           “It is,” Nesta said thickly with a choked laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

           “I’m sorry,” he said, slowly stroking his fingers down her back to calm her. “If I had known this would be your reaction, I would have planned something private for you.”

           “No! It was perfect,” she said. “Everything was perfect. I—I didn’t know I’d react like this.” She was still sniffling. “I’ve never really imagined my own engagement. I—I never thought I’d love someone this much. That someone would love me this much.”

           “I love you that much and more,” Cassian said, meaning it with everything he had. “I would marry you tonight if you wanted. We’re in Vegas—pick any venue and we can make it official.”

           She laughed. Her throat still sounded thick but her breathing had returned to normal. “Oh no. We’re having the most grandiose wedding anyone has ever seen. If I’m getting married, everyone is going to know. And I want a ten thousand dollar dress.”

           “Deal,” Cassian said without hesitation. Nesta’s heels already brought her much closer to Cassian’s face than usual, but she still had to press herself up an extra inch on her toes to kiss him. Cassian leaned down obligingly, and now feeling the warmth of her body, the cold press of her ring against his jaw as she cupped his face, sent heat settling at the front of his pelvis.

           “Now what would you say if I told you to drop your panties,” he growled against her mouth.

           She smirked. “I’d say I would.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and tipped her head to whisper in his ear, “But I’d have to be wearing some.”

           Cassian groaned, sliding his hands up under the hem of her dress and indeed finding only bare skin. “Fuck, Ness.”

“I was hoping you’d get handsy and find out during dinner,” she said. “But you had other things on your mind, apparently.”

“From now on I promise to always put my hands up your skirt at dinner to check if you’re commando,” Cassian said.

“At every dinner,” Nesta said, kissing him again. “For the rest of our lives. That better be in your wedding vows.”

“For the rest of our lives,” he repeated.

“For the rest of our lives,” she echoed again. Then she kissed him again, passionately, slipping her tongue over his lips.

He pulled his hands out from her dress and opened the door to the bathroom beside them. “Get in,” he commanded, voice a tight snarl. Nesta took her time, sending him a sultry look through ruined makeup as she swayed her hips and made her way into the single-person room. Cassian followed, locking the door. She stayed with her back to him, watching in the mirror as he slid his suit jacket off and hung it on the hook on the door. She licked her bottom lip as he rolled his sleeves up just a little, to try and make sure he wouldn’t soil them. He met her eyes in the mirror, and he read her intention in the look on her face. She leaned forward and braced herself on the sink.

           “Alright then,” he chuckled, undoing his belt and unfastening his pants to slide them down just over his rapidly hardening cock. He shoved the hem of her dress up to expose her bare ass and said, “Better make sure you’ve got a good grip on that sink, sweetheart. You’re going to need it.”

*~*~*

           Cassian made his way back out onto the balcony, put back together on the outside but with his head still swimming with the look on Nesta’s face in the mirror as she finished around him. Evidently someone had made the wise call to start cocktail hour without waiting for them, and the laughter he heard around him sounded a lot louder and messier than it had when he’d left. Gwyn and Emerie quickly departed for inside, makeup bags in hand, to help clean Nesta up for the rest of the night. Cassian was swarmed with congratulations, and he ordered a scotch on the rocks to keep him busy while he waited for his fiancée to reemerge.

           When Nesta reentered the party she was almost knocked to the ground by her sisters, and she begged them not to make her cry again. Rhys motioned to a server who brought out a bottle of champagne Rhysand had specially reserved for Nesta and Cassian (Cassian didn’t even want to know how much it cost), and Nesta popped the cork to raucous applause. Elain slapped them both with Just Engaged! sashes to wear for the rest of the night, and through it all, there was never a moment that Nesta and Cassian didn’t have some form of physical contact, be it holding hands or hips against each other or an arm around the shoulder. Cassian caught the way Nesta kept looking at her ring, tilting her hand to make it glitter in the lights. Then she would look at him, and she would smile, and as they headed out the Strip to celebrate, Cassian felt happier than he ever had in his entire life.

[calaofnoldor]

Driving My Baby

Characters: Dean x Reader (gender neutral)

Words: 2,183 (i can’t drabble)

Summary: Dean doesn’t know about your mad skills behind the wheel, but it turns out there’s nothing hotter than seeing his baby driving his Baby.

Warnings: implied smut, language, fluff, dean’s bow legs, references to the fast and furious franchise

A/N: was originally gonna post a slightly angsty 2-part dean fic next, but decided against it in light off recent events lol. there’s really no plot or substance here, just some light floof. (and yes, the title is a reference to the song ‘you’re having my baby’)

MASTERLIST

The roar of Baby’s engine rumbled to a halt as Dean glanced over at you, “Alright, so you gonna sit tight while I go scope this place out?”

You sent him a close-lipped smile, trying your best to repress the excitement bubbling within you. “Mhm!” you concurred with a bouncy nod, pausing to sneak a quick peek at his shapely behind when he stepped out of the car, “I’ll try and see if I can get a hold of that morgue guy again.”

Walking over to the passenger side, Dean bent down to kiss you through the open window. “Mmkay, I’ll be back soon,” he mumbled against your lips, before turning to commence his search for the potential vamp hideout you suspected was in the vicinity.

“Oh wait! Dean!” you called out, stopping him in his tracks.

“Yeah?”

“The keys?”

Dean looked down at his pocket where the Impala’s keys were safely nestled and then back up at you with raised brows.

“You’re not gonna leave me in here like a dog, are you?” There was a subtle hint of amusement in your voice, but also a challenging edge, as well as a slight pout which you added for good measure. You knew he could never really say ‘no’ to you.

And as expected, Dean returned to deposit the keys into your waiting hands. You gave him a wide smile in return, “Thank you! Love you!”

Your boyfriend narrowed his glimmering green eyes at you, imparting one last suspicious glimpse in your direction as he grumbled somewhat warily, “Love you too,” and then finally sauntered off for good.

Biting your lip, you watched with bated breath as his figure grew smaller in the rear-view mirror. Normally, you would have enjoyed the exquisite vision of what you often dubbed his ‘sexy ass bow-legged swagger’, but this time, it was when Dean was no longer in sight that a devilish grin broke out across your face.

But really, who could blame you? You’d been a car enthusiast all your life, and classic cars were your weakness. “It’s just you and me now, Baby.” Your fingers glided along the dashboard.

With Sam on the bench due to a broken ankle (courtesy of the werewolf from your last hunt), you and Dean had driven out to Piedmont to take care of this vampire case on your own. So now after two years with the Winchesters, you finally had a chance to explore the front seat of Dean’s Baby, his pride and joy, the glorious, refurbished 1967 Chevy Impala.

When you’d joined forces with the brothers, it was readily agreed upon that you would be better off riding together in the sleek American muscle car, so you ditched your stolen, rusty 2003 Honda Accord and never looked back. Since there was a giant moose to accommodate, you were naturally relegated to the back seat, and rightfully so, but boy, did you miss the thrill of being in the driver’s seat.

You were always a bit of a demon behind the wheel, and it’d been ages since you’d gotten the chance to flex your driving skills. Back when you and Dean first got together, he promised you joyrides (and other recreational activities) in Baby, but the hunting life never seemed to let you get it on.

Sliding across the bench seat, your lungs released a contented sigh as you wrapped your hands around the leather-bound steering wheel. Dean’s bowlegs, however sexy, were not the same length as yours, so you pulled the lever beneath the seat to adjust its position to your liking. Perfect.

You took your time getting to know the ins and outs at the helm of the Impala, though it seemed like none at all had passed when you suddenly heard Dean’s deep voice cry out.

“Y/N!” Your eyes shot up to the rear-view mirror to find an image of the older Winchester running towards the car. “We gotta go!”

Well that’s strange, you thought. Dean never ran – not unless someone, or more often something, was chasing him… Oh shit. Had he somehow woken the vampires? But the sun was still thriving; how much could they retaliate out in the open at this point during the day?

“We gotta get outta here! Now!”

Dean’s voice was much closer now and if you’d learned anything from your experiences hunting with the Winchesters, it was to never doubt your boyfriend’s commands. He was a seasoned pro and possessed instincts like you’d never seen. It’s a good thing you’ve also got some of your own.

Plunging Baby’s key into the ignition, you started the car without hesitation, allowing yourself only a second to relish in the thunderous purr of the engine below you and the incomparable feeling of glee that always sprouted in your chest whenever you were sat at the wheel of a powerful, capable vehicle. Indeed, the adrenaline was already rearing.

As Dean approached the car, you quickly reached over to open the passenger side door for him. “Get in the car!”

“You- Wha-“ Dean stumbled for a split second, so accustomed to taking the driver’s seat. “Y/N, they’re awake and they’ve got bikes – a bunch of Harleys!” he continued to explain, as if that would get you to move out of his designated spot.

“OK, so hurry up!” you yelled again.

Seeing no better option, Dean hastily climbed into the car. Just as he got in, your ears picked up the unmistakable resounding growl of revving motorcycle engines. From the sound of it, they couldn’t be too far off. So when Dean slammed the door shut, your foot came down fast and heavy against Baby’s gas pedal, propelling you forward with an aggressive lurch before you whizzed off, burning rubber and leaving nothing but flying leaves and dust in your wake.

“Jesus!” Dean bellowed; his eyes had grown to about twice their usual size.

You paid him no attention though, too busy reveling in the delightful buzz that vibrated through your body starting from your fingers and toes, where you could feel every unit of Baby’s intoxicating horsepower, and travelling up your limbs until the exhilaration settled deep within your very core.

Stealing a glance at the rear-view mirror, you caught sight of the monster-driven motorcade advancing considerably, so you decided to take the next available turn as an attempt to throw them off. Things were getting truly exciting now.

“Vamps on bikes? Really?! And covered in leather?” you huffed mirthfully with a shake of your head.

But it was Dean’s turn to ignore you. He was clutching at his door tightly, as if afraid your driving might somehow hurl him out of it. In fact, when you took the first corner without warning, Dean just about fell over.

“Woah! Slow down, Toretto!” he shouted in alarm, looking over at you as if you’d grown a second head.

Seeing you’d managed to surprise the vampires with your unexpected maneuver however, a loaded smirk was your only reply.

It took you about twenty minutes to get the vamps off your tail, during which time Dean managed to recover from his initial shock and began instead to absorb your radiant form. The look of exuberance on your face and the utter determination in your bright eyes, mixed with the mischievous tug of your lips, and combined with the all-around liberated and euphoric aura that surrounded you was sexy as hell, not to mention your sheer competence. All of it astounded him and caused his blood to flow to places he could not have foreseen.

You seemed to be completely at one with his esteemed Baby, handling her with perfect control and aptitude, and all the while enjoying yourself so very much. It was something Dean never knew you were capable of, but more so, it was something he never knew he needed.

Dean had always loved how much you loved and appreciated his car, but this made him feel like he was seeing you in a new light; it made him feel like he was falling for you all over again. That devilish glint in your normally kind and virtuous eyes, your ever jubilant and fervent love for life after enduring so much pain and grief, the way you never ceased to amaze and surprise him – it was all gloriously heady and irresistibly addictive. His teeth couldn’t help but pull at his lower lip, emerald eyes glazing over with lust and adoration as he stared over at you in the driver’s seat.

So when you ultimately pulled into an empty clearing, not wanting to lead the vamps straight back to your motel room, Dean was at a loss for words.

“So, a bloodsucking motorcycle gang, huh? Can’t say I’ve seen that before,” you speculated in a cheery, nonchalant tone, feeling perfectly satisfied after your little stunt driving escapade.

Dean, on the other hand, appeared not unlike a fish out of water with his furrowed brows and pouty lips which appeared undecided as to whether they should remain open or closed.

“That was… I just- You-… I don’t even know…” he ran his hands through his hair, pulling the short strands forward roughly, “What just happened?”

You sent him a small, innocent shrug, rather amused at his adorably stuttery response.

“You never told me you could drive like that.”

“You never asked,” you replied truthfully.

“Fuck, Y/N. That was… so… incredibly…”

What? Your curiosity was killing you. Dean’s opinion always mattered to you and at the moment, you could read a myriad of emotions upon his face. He looked stunned and confused, perhaps a bit frightened, but at the same time awed and impressed, and maybe even – were you reading that right? – slightly… aroused?

Dean lowered his voice to answer your unspoken question, “Hot,” he finished emphatically.

You heaved a breathy laugh, “Yeah?”

“Fuck yes! Baby, that was incredible. The way you handled Baby like a fucking pro, the little faces you made when you were living for the thrill of the chase. The skill, the speed, the Tokyo drifting, all of it. Goddamn, you are so sexy when you’re driving my Baby like that.”

“Well that’s a coincidence ‘cause I also happen to find you amazingly sexy when you’re behind this wheel,” you joked lightly, “In fact, I think seeing you drive this car might’ve been part of the reason I fell in love with you.”

“And I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” came Dean’s suave response.

You giggled a bit, but soon sobered when you saw his gorgeous eyes cloud over with wanton desire. One minute you were dwelling in the heavily charged sexual tension that seemed to consume the entire car, watching his gaze wander down to your lips while yours did the same, and in the next your mouths met ferociously as your bodies swooped forwards simultaneously, crashing together in the center of Baby’s front seat.

You moaned into the kiss, your hands finding their way around Dean’s ridiculously broad shoulders and up to his thick neck. When you were forced to come up for air, his lips began to work their way down to your collar bone. “Mmm, god Dean.”

“Seriously baby, that was such a turn on,” he rambled across your skin, “I didn’t even know driving could be so hot.”

Your laughter was really more just an exhalation of air. “Are we finally gonna do it? Are we gonna christen Baby now, thanks to your newfound kink?” you whispered salaciously, your brain already presenting obscene images of the two of you re-enacting something akin to the infamous Titanic scene.

Dean paused for a moment, allowing you to rip off his outer layers with relish before he brought his large hands up to cup your cheeks. “See I wouldn’t call it ‘newfound’,” he started, dazzling forest orbs boring into your soul, “Cause I’m pretty sure it only turns me on when it’s you behind the wheel, and I’ve always had a kink for you.”

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to keep the smile off your face, “You are such a smooth fucker sometimes, Dean Winchester.” And with that, your lips and bodies collided yet again. His strong hands held you impossibly close while yours ran joyously across his expansive chest before travelling down to find the zipper of his jeans.

“Ungh, wait a sec,” you pulled back a little with knitted brows, a playfully incredulous tone taking over your voice, “Did you call me Dominic Toretto earlier?”

“Well, yeah. You were driving like a madman!” Dean exclaimed candidly.

You smirked, “So does that make you Letty Ortiz?”

“Sweetheart, I will gladly be the Letty to your Dom anytime you want… I still can’t believe you just took me on a high-speed car chase, that was fucking awesome! Just wait ‘til Sam hears about this one!”

Laughing as you pulled him back in, you shut him up with your tongue as it invaded his mouth, pausing only to smile against his luscious lips, “Mmm, well maybe he doesn’t have to hear about this next part?”

A/N #2: thank you so much for reading, feedback always appreciated! oh and here’s a look at some new stuff at lexicolor.redbubble.com :)

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

Hi! So first of all I want to clarify that I'm not in any way saying jc isn't a homophobe, because I mean, it's pretty obvious. However back when I read the mxtx interview I read her answer as 'wwx acted all of a sudden very different with lwj, to the point where it was jarring for jc who had not seen him act that way before.' I do not think jc understood at all wwx's affections towards lwj, and this did not think it was disgusting because he saw it as flirting. (1/2)

I find it weird that people use it as a 'proof' that jc is homophobic when it's not straightforwardly telling us it's homophobia, and also since you know, the novel is right there and tells us far more clearly that jc is, in fact, a homophobe. (2/2)

So, here, I agree the interview isn't a stated full explanation in itself and not to be used as evidence alone.

I think that at the time it was not fully homophobia on his part when he had first noticed Wei Wuxian's attention for Lan Wangji in Cloud Recesses. Jiang Cheng had never understood Wei Wuxian's penchant for wanting to be around Lan Wangji and I think that his surprise of Wei Wuxian flirting with a man (He himself talks about how he never thought it odd with Wei Wuxian flirting with women all the time) Lan Wangji was always the strange outlier for flirting. It steadily devolves into more overt homophobia as they get older.

Cloud Recesses when they're 15,

Wei WuXian replied, “Yeah, I also thought that he should be praised for having the courage to come see me. He was probably told by his uncle to come check if I was kneeling properly.”

Jiang Cheng instinctively felt a foreboding sensation, “Were you kneeling properly?”

Wei WuXian, “I was kneeling properly. After he was some distance away, I found a stick and started to dig in the dirt. The pile beside your foot. There’s an ant hole there that I went through tons of trouble to find. When he turned his head, he saw that my shoulders were shaking, and he definitely thought that I was crying. He even came back to ask me. You really should have seen his expression as he saw the ant hole.”

“…” Jiang Cheng spoke, “You should get lost and go back to Yunmeng as soon as possible! I don’t think that he wants to see you ever again.”

The part that sticks out here is the fact that Jiang Cheng feels any sense of foreboding at all for a silly situation that Lan Wangji had walked away from seeing Wei Wuxian was actually okay. It's the first seed of him continuing the line of thought that "He hates you". He is already feeling strange about Wei Wuxian's flirting and chooses to sort of project this hate into Lan Wangji for Wei Wuxian.

Lotus Pier summer after Cloud Recesses lessons:

I just thought of someone.”

Jiang Cheng, “Who?”

Wei WuXian, “Lan Zhan.”

Jiang Cheng, “Why would you think of him for no reason? Reminiscing what it felt like to copy sect rules?”

Wei WuXian spat out a seed, “It’s fun to think of him. You don’t even know—he’s just too amusing. I told him, ‘Your sect’s food is disgusting. I’d rather eat stir-fried watermelon peel than eat your food. If you have time, come have fun with us at Lotus Pier…'”

Before he even finished, Jiang Cheng slapped his watermelon off, “Are you mad? Inviting him to Lotus Pier—are you trying to torture yourself?”

Wei WuXian, “Why are you so upset? My watermelon almost flew away! I was just being polite. Of course he wouldn’t come. Have you ever heard of him go anywhere by himself to have fun?”

Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”

Wei WuXian, “I never knew you hated him so much?”

Jiang YanLi sat down between the two, “Who are you talking about? A friend you made in Gusu?”

Wei WuXian responded happily, “Yeah!”

Jiang Cheng, “What a shameless ‘friend’ you are. Go ask Lan WangJi and see if he wants you as one.”

Wei WuXian, “Fuck off. If he doesn’t want me, I’ll bother him to the point that he does.” He turned to Jiang YanLi, “Shijie, do you know Lan WangJi?”

Jiang YanLi, “I do. He’s that Lan-er-gongzi whom everyone describes as handsome and talented, isn’t he? Is he really that handsome?”

Wei WuXian, “He is!”

Jiang YanLi, “Compared to you?”

Wei WuXian thought about it for a moment, “Maybe just a bit more handsome than me.”

He formed a tiny bit of space between two fingers. Taking the plate away, Jiang YanLi smiled, “He must be truly very handsome, then. It’s a good thing you made a new friend. In the future, you two can visit each other in your free time.”

Hearing this, Jiang Cheng spat out his watermelon. Wei WuXian waved his hands, “Forget it, forget it. All that’s at his place is bad food and a whole lot of rules. I’m not going again.”

Jiang YanLi, “Then you can bring him here. This is a good opportunity. Why not invite your friend to come stay at Lotus Pier for sometime?”

Jiang Cheng, “Don’t listen to his nonsense, Jie. He’s super annoying in Gusu. Lan WangJi would never want to come home with him.”

Wei WuXian, “What do you mean!? He would.”

Jiang Cheng, “Wake up. Lan WangJi told you to get lost, didn’t you hear? You still remember that?”

Wei WuXian, “What do you know!? Even though he told me to get lost on the surface, I know for sure that he secretly wants to come play with me in Yunmeng—in fact, he would love to.”

Wei Wuxian is still in the belief that Lan Wangji does like him. Jiang Cheng of course isn't amused by Jiang Yanli's indulgence in Wei Wuxian's daydreams. Wei Wuxian continues to, well, essentially pine innocently about Lan Wangji, his fellow disciples even encourage it leading to... Jiang Cheng sulking even further over the fact that Wei Wuxian is in fact pining over another boy. He puts two and two together as Wei Wuxian is flirting with the girls on shore later on and he talks of the things he will do with Lan Wangji as he visits. He talked of training with Lan Wangji in the same way he invited the girls to watch him train.

Phoenix Mountain Hunt

Lan WangJi suddenly raised his hand, stopping a flower tossed over from behind him.

He looked back. Over at the side of the YunmengJiang Sect’s riding formation, which hadn’t departed yet, Jiang Cheng clicked his tongue impatiently, seated at the front. However, the person beside him sat on a horse with black, gleaming hair. His elbow was at the head of the horse as he looked to the side as though nothing happened, talking and laughing with two slender-bodied maidens.

Lan XiChen saw that Lan WangJi had drawn the reins and ceased to move forward, “WangJi, what happened?”

Lan WangJi, “Wei Ying.”

Wei WuXian finally turned around, face full of surprise, “What? HanGuang-Jun, did you call me? What’s up?”

Holding the flower, Lan WangJi seemed to be quite cold. His tone seemed cold as well, “Was it you?”

Wei WuXian immediately denied it, “No, it wasn’t.”

The maidens beside him spoke at once, “Don’t believe him. It was him!”

Wei WuXian, “How could you treat a good person like this? I’m getting angry!”

Giggling, the maidens pulled their reins and went to the formations of their own sects. Lan WangJi lowered the hand that he held the flower with and shook his head. Jiang Cheng spoke, “ZeWu-Jun, HanGuang-Jun, apologies. Don’t pay attention to him.”

Lan XiChen smiled, “That is fine. I will thank Young Master Wei’s kindness behind the flower in place of WangJi.”

When they slowly rode into the distance, carrying with them the clouds of petals and fragrance, Jiang Cheng glanced at the colourful sea of handkerchiefs waving on the watching towers before turning to Wei WuXian, “Why are you throwing out flowers along with the girls?”

Wei WuXian, “I think he looks nice. Can’t I throw a few as well?”

Jiang Cheng pointed his nose into the air, “How old are you? Who do you think you are, still playing tricks like that?”

Interestingly enough, this flower scene is similar to what had once occurred during the summer of Lotus Pier. This is after it had been established that Wei Wuxian thinks Lan Wangji now dislikes him morally. Yet he still reaches out to tease and flirt with him, leading Jiang Cheng to continue asking why well into their early 20's is Wei Wuxian still doing this. It was excusable when they were younger but now this is inexcusable and troublesome for someone who is supposed to be his righthand acting on whims still and flirting with a man of reputation. Jiang Cheng actively had encouraged the rift between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji after the return from the Burial Mounds. He agreed very readily that Lan Wangji wanted to imprison Wei Wuxian instead of extending any help in regards to Wei Wuxian's volatile disposition that went on for years after this altercation, convincing himself and Wei Wuxian of Lan Wangji's supposed hate.

Wei WuXian was in such a state of distress that he couldn’t remember whether or not he called someone’s name at all. He only managed to pull himself together after Jiang Cheng commanded the dog to back away. After a moment of hesitation, he abruptly turned his head away. On the other side, Jiang Cheng left his seat. There was a whip attached beside his waist. With one hand on it, he bent down to look at Wei WuXian’s face. After a pause, he straightened up and asked, “Speaking of it, since when have you been so close to Lan WangJi?”

Wei WuXian immediately understood whose name he had unconsciously called out.

Jiang Cheng smiled menacingly, “It really is quite curious how far he went to protect you, back on Dafan Mountain.”

A moment later, he corrected himself, “No. You weren’t necessarily the one whom Lan WangJi was protecting. After all, the GusuLan Sect couldn’t have forgotten what you did with that loyal dog of yours. How could someone so celebrated for his righteousness tolerate the likes of you? Maybe he’s familiar with this body that you stole instead.”

His words were cruel and sinister. Every sentence seemed well-meaning on the surface, but was actually derogatory. Wei WuXian couldn’t bear hearing it any longer, “Watch your language.”

Thirteen years later his taunts have become more refined as he is well off into hating Lan Wangji himself now that Wei Wuxian had been dead. He taunts that Lan Wangji is more promiscuous than presented as well as using Wei Wuxian's old goodwill for Lan Wangji for him to go on the defense. Jiang Cheng however thinks using the fact these men are gay is only a tool, he does not believe they are as his disgust of Mo Xuanyu being gay does disgust him. His suspicions have turned into bigotry instead finally in the years that Wei Wuxian was gone.

When Jiang Cheng accused him, Wei WuXian couldn’t defend himself at all, but he just couldn’t bear it when those words were being directed at Lan WangJi.

Wei WuXian reprimanded, “Jiang Cheng, just listen to yourself. What are you saying? Is it appropriate? Don’t forget who you are. After all, you’re the leader of a sect. Insulting a renowned cultivator in front of Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu’s spirits—where is your discipline?”

His original intention was to remind Jiang Cheng to at least hold some respect for Lan WangJi. However, Jiang Cheng was always sensitive. From those words, he managed to make out the notion that he wasn’t fit to be a sect leader. Immediately, darkness crawled up his face, bearing an eerie similarity to how Madam Yu looked when she was angry. His voice was harsh, “Who is the one insulting my parents in front of their spirits?! Could you two please understand whose sect you’re in? I don’t care if you act so shamelessly outside, but don’t you dare fool around inside our ancestral hall, before my parents’ spirits! After all, they were the ones who brought you up—even I feel ashamed for you!”

Wei WuXian never expected such a huge blow to crash down on him. He was both shocked and furious, blurting, “Shut up!”

Jiang Cheng pointed outside, “Mess around outside however you want, whether under a tree or on a boat, hugging or otherwise! Get out of my sect, get away from anywhere my eyes can see!”

Hearing him mention ‘under a tree’, Wei WuXian felt his heart skip a beat—could Jiang Cheng have seen the moment where he crashed into Lan WangJi’s arms?

His guess was not wrong. Jiang Cheng did indeed go out to find Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi. He chased after them in the direction that the street vendors pointed at. A voice in his heart seemed to tell him which places Wei WuXian would definitely go. He caught up to them in just a while. Yet, he just so happened to see Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi enveloped in a tight embrace under a tree, unwilling to let go of each other even after so long.

Goosebumps immediately ran down Jiang Cheng’s body.

Although he’d made guesses at the relationship between Mo XuanYu and Lan WangJi before, they were only attacks trying to offend Wei WuXian, not that he really suspected anything. He’d never thought that Wei WuXian would have ambiguous ties with a man, because after all, when they grew up together, Wei WuXian had never expressed any such interest. He’d always loved good-looking girls with a passion. On the other hand, it was even more impossible for Lan WangJi. He was famous for his asceticism, seemingly interested in neither men nor women.

But hugging like that seemed intense no matter what. At least, they didn’t seem like normal friends or brothers. He immediately recalled that Wei WuXian had always stuck to Lan WangJi ever since he came back. Lan WangJi’s attitude towards him was also different from what it was before he was reborn. At once, he was almost certain that the two really were in that kind of relationship. He couldn’t turn around and leave, yet he didn’t want to say a single word to the two, so he continued to hide himself as he followed them. Every single look and movement that passed between them seemed different in his eyes. For a while, the shock, absurdity, and slight disgust that he felt combined to overpower his hatred. It was only after Wei WuXian brought Lan WangJi into the ancestral hall that the long-suppressed hatred was awakened again, devouring his courtesy and rationality.

Wei WuXian was holding something back, “Jiang WanYin, you… apologize right now.”

Jiang Cheng mocked, “Apologize? For what? For exposing your thing for each other?”

Wei WuXian raged, “HanGuang-Jun is only my friend—what do you think we are?! I warn you. Apologize right now—don’t make me beat you!”

Hearing this, Lan WangJi’s expression froze for an instant. Jiang Cheng laughed, “Well, then I’ve never seen “friends” like that before? You warn me? Warn me against what? If you two had the slightest trace of integrity left, you wouldn’t have come here and…”

Seeing the change in Lan WangJi’s expression, Wei WuXian thought he must have felt insulted by Jiang Cheng’s words. He was so angry that his entire body was shaking. He didn’t dare think about what Lan WangJi would think after being shamed like this.

Obviously in the penultimate scene Jiang Cheng himself is being "the unreliable narrator" that fans love to accuse Wei Wuxian of. He says he never expected this of the two, but all the years of his behavior shows that he had always gone out of his way to keep the two away from each other and had always been mildly homophobic when the two did express interest in the other however innocent it had been in their youth.

All of this is to say, when it comes to how MXTX worded that interview answer, I think it was meant as a careful nudge for those who had still tried to insist that Jiang Cheng didn't mean to be homophobic, actually wasn't homophobic and was just angry at any other actions of Wei Wuxian and lashing out about that etc, it was her telling people to simply pay attention to the underlying shadowing of Jiang Cheng and how he exasperated his own pre-existing biases that morphed into an uglier hate.

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

champagne problems (part 1)

here's my first part of my modern no magic "champagne problems" singer-songwriter quarantine thomastair AU! happy birthday to @foxglove-airmid even though I don't think it's your birthday where you live anymore (and I still haven't posted zia's birthday fic, it'll happen I swear)!

no content warnings for this part (besides maybe quarantine), but future parts will include discussions of mental illness, substance abuse, and a suicide attempt

obviously, the song alastair "wrote" in the fic is not mine, it's by taylor swift! and a few of the lyrics have been changed!

Masterlist | AO3

Thomas breathed out a sigh of relief as he lugged his suitcase up onto the fifth floor landing.

“‘Ere we are,” Piers announced as he unlocked the door.

Thomas was utterly exhausted, such was the result of taking a redeye flight across the Atlantic during a global pandemic, but any idea of rest that he’d had was interrupted when he heard the sound of piano flood the apartment.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Piers nodded, “One of my flatmates, the walls are paper thin. He can’t record at the studio right now, but he’s trying to finish his EP, so it’s been a bit noisier around here. He’ll take a break soon, hopefully.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s no problem. Thank you, again, for allowing me to stay here. I’ll be looking for my own place as soon as the quarantine is up.”

“Of course. You’ve got the couch as long as you need it. Couldn’t just hang you out to dry, could I? Although, you did pick a god awful time to move to the city, if I do say so myself.”

Thomas sat down on the couch and tried to make himself comfortable. It was more comfortable than the flight or the airport, at least. “I know… I considered postponing the move, but the visa was so difficult to get, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. They say this will all blow over in a couple of weeks, but borders are closing and I heard talk of them suspending all pending visa applications. I didn't know how long it would be if I waited, if the job was even still here for me at all.” Although at first entrance, the music had seemed to be a nuisance, it now comforted him. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact, it quite reminded him of the days Alastair’s playing had filled their flat…

“Where did you say you were working again? At a record company?”

“Yeah. I’m just doing pretty basic stuff for now, but if I ever do want to record my own music, I’ve got to start somewhere.”

“Hm,” Piers said, gesturing to the room the music was coming from. “Perhaps you’ll get on with him well, then. Would you like some tea?”

Thomas nodded and Piers went to start the teapot. Piers continued, “Though I suppose he's more of the tortured artist type. Very reserved, quite prickly. I didn't even meet him until a couple weeks after I moved in here because he was off in some psychiatric hospital.” Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one for gossip. “My other roommate’s nice, though, I think you’ll like him. He-”

“How did you end up in New York, again? I don’t think I ever asked.”

Piers dove into the subject change quite readily, explaining his uni - or college - years in New York City and his decision to stay afterwards. Thomas had tuned most of it out, truthfully. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, but he was rather exhausted, and Piers was wearing thin on his patience.

As the kettle started to whine, Thomas heard the musician begin to sing, and he froze. It sounded so much like Alastair. But it couldn't be, could it? With over 8 million people living in the city, he would not end up in Alastair's apartment by accident. His Alastair was certainly reserved and prickly, but it wasn't possible. It must be like all those times he thought he saw him on a street he'd never walked or heard his laugh in a café he'd never been to. Just his mind, tricking him. Even if he knew that voice so well, despite not hearing it in so long.

“It’s quite good, isn’t it? His first single just dropped.” Piers asked, bringing over his cup of tea. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been staring intently at the door.

Thomas took the cup. “Hm? Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

“You should look it up. It’s called “champagne problems” by Simurgh. That’s spelled- Well, it should come up.”

The name Simurgh sounded familiar, but Thomas couldn’t put his finger on where he knew it from. At Piers’ insistence, he pulled out his phone and brought up the song. As he skimmed through the first few lines, a cold feeling settled in his stomach.

“You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse”

“Simurgh,” Thomas realized.

“Yeah, I think it’s Arabic or something.”

It took Thomas a moment to process that Piers was responding to him. “It’s Persian.” He was certain that Alastair would have some very stern words to say if he heard Piers confusing the two, actually. Thomas had admittedly let his Farsi skills deteriorate quite a bit since the breakup, but he was fairly certain the name came from the Shahnameh. There was no doubt in Thomas’ mind now: he was staying in Alastair’s apartment, and Alastair’s first single was about one of the most painful days in Thomas’ life. “I, er, I used to study it.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right!” Piers launched into a tangent that Thomas tuned out as he read through the rest of the page.

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems”

“Thomas? Are you alright?”

He realized then that his hand was trembling so badly that his tea nearly spilled. He used his other hand to steady it. “Oh, uh, yes, I’m just tired.”

“Perhaps you should rest. I can ask Alastair to quiet down for a while-”

“No!” he exclaimed rather too forcefully. “No, that’s not necessary. I’d just rather not talk, if that’s alright.”

Piers nodded.

Thomas kept reading.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems”

Of all the songs, why did he release the one about him? Why was it about a memory still so painful in Thomas’ heart, all of these years later? He remembered it so well, standing there, alone, shattered into a million pieces.

“You told your family for a reason You couldn't keep it in Your sister splashed out on the bottle Now no one's celebrating”

He was fairly certain that Barbara had been more excited than even he was, confident that Alastair would accept, and so very proud of her baby brother, all grown up. She’d been furious when it fell apart, but it was her who stood with him during the aftermath, who boarded him onto a train to Edinburgh to visit Eugenia when he couldn’t stand to be in the same city as him any longer, who went through his phone, blocking all of Alastair’s accounts so that he could obsess over him no longer, who comforted him as he wept and held him as he picked the pieces of himself back up again.

And all the more sour was the memory in light of her death.

“Dom Pérignon, you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems”

He looked up at Piers, who had fortunately become enthralled with something on his phone and was no longer paying Thomas any mind. He lifted the teacup gingerly to his lips, but he felt far too sick to take a drink.

“You had a speech, you're speechless Love slipped beyond your reaches And I couldn't give a reason Champagne problems”

A reason, that’s all Thomas had wanted. Just any explanation. He understood if they were moving too fast, or perhaps he’d misread something, but he just didn’t understand it.

Why? Why can’t you tell me why? I deserve an explanation, Alastair. Please, anything.

I… I’m sorry, Thomas.

Stop it! Stop apologizing! We can just go home and pretend this never happened, please, forget about all of it, it was a stupid idea-

Thomas, stop. I shouldn’t’ve… This was a mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.

That was the moment Thomas felt his heart stop beating.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me" How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through”

Despite the nearly two decades Thomas had spent in London before Alastair, it was never the same without him. He saw him everywhere he went, despite knowing he was thousands of miles away. After graduating uni that May, he accepted a spot at a graduate program in Spain and didn’t look back.

“One for the money, two for the show I never was ready so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you "You’re the only one I want by my side, What a shame you’re fucked in the head," you said”

Those were the words that haunted Thomas’ nightmares, even now.

It’s you! It’s only you for me! It was always going to be you! But I can see now that I was never going to be enough for you, you and your secrets and walls and your lies. It’s a shame… it’s a shame you’re so fucked in the head, Alastair. You’ll never truly love anyone, will you? You’re not physically capable of it.

Alastair hadn’t responded. Thomas had wanted a rise out of him, any reaction at all, despite knowing how lethal and volatile Alastair could become when provoked. But there was nothing. Not a flicker of anything in his steeled expression. He’d simply looked down, apologized again for any pain that he’d caused, and left.

That was the last time they’d spoken.

Thomas and his sister left for Edinburgh that night, and when he’d returned to London, Alastair was gone.

“Well, you'll find the real thing instead Who'll patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems”

Thomas couldn’t imagine giving his heart to anyone again, not now and certainly not then. He’d dated in Madrid, but it had always stayed casual. He’d made sure of it. He could see now that he and Alastair had gotten together quickly, moved in together quickly, done all of it very quickly. After all, he’d fallen hard and fast. He gave all of himself to Alastair, and he’d nearly lost all of himself in the process.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket New picture in your wallet You won't remember all my Champagne problems

“You won't remember all my Champagne problems”

Now, he wondered what the rest of the story was. He’d convinced himself that Alastair had never loved him, that he was heartless and cruel, though he’d known that wasn’t true. Could Alastair have written this song if he’d never truly loved him? Perhaps he was a sociopath.

Thomas felt like he should run. Like he should pick up his bag and dart out of the apartment before Alastair could notice him, find some hotel somewhere with undoubtedly extraordinary high rates and just pretend like this never happened. He could get back on a plane and go back home to his parents and delete his phone browser history and pretend like this was all just a bad dream. But he could not move.

He didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Alastair’s door opened. He looked up with a start.

“Thomas,” Alastair breathed. He stood wide eyed, flushed.

“Do you two already know each other then?” Piers asked.

There was a moment of silence before Thomas cleared his throat. “We used to,” he said, looking down.

“I, er, I forgot that your friend was coming today,” Alastair told Piers. “It’s quite a long journey from London, you should have told me, I would have been quieter.”

Thomas considered correcting him for a moment, but decided not to. “Don’t worry about it. I heard you had your first big release. Congratulations.”

Alastair gave an awkward nod. “Thank you. Right, well, I’ll just…” He rushed over to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’ll try to be a bit quieter.”

“Don’t- It’s fine, really. In fact, I’m sure there’s some hotel in the area I can stay at for now, actually-”

“Well, don’t leave on my account,” Alastair interrupted. “We agreed to let you stay here, and the city’s a bloody mess right now. I’ll stay out of your hair, Thomas.”

Thomas only nodded as Alastair disappeared back behind his bedroom door.

Thanks for reading! Taglist (ask to be +/-): @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @itsjusta-j-really

[reincarnated70sbaby]

linger

listen before you read!

robert plant xfem!oc

warnings : drug use, swearing, trucklot of angst ;)

word count : 2.1k

an: was listening to ‘linger’ by the cranberries and I couldn’t pass up this angsty idea I got 😎 timeline is off but yolo ig...

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

Sloane leaned down to the table to take an extra line for her pre-performance nerves. She felt a little more nervous today, this particular concert being one of the largest yet. She was the front woman of The CAPs, who were opening for Led Zeppelin for their summer of ‘69 tour. This was exactly the break the band needed, finally getting recognition for all their talent and hard work over the last two years.

She applied a little powder to her face, and patted on her classic red lipstick to her slightly chapped lips. Securing the clasps of her platform red heels, she shook her body in hopes of shaking away her anxious jitters. Once she had finished her body-shaking ritual, she walked out from the wings of the stage.

As she walked across to centre stage, wind blowing through the holes of her white crochet dress. The crowd cheered loudly as the band waved to them.

“How’s everyone doin’ today? It’s so hot today, my boobs are sweating off!” She greeted the crowd with her bubbly nature. Adjusting the mic stand to her height, she continued to address the huge crowd. “Today’s set list will have a slight adjustment to it, we’re starting off with a new song I wrote just last night. It’s a little softer than our other music, so just sit back- or should I say lean back on the person behind you - and relax. This is called ‘Linger’ "

While she was speaking to the crowd, a teenage roadie ran onto the stage and placed a stool, for Sloane to sit on, and disappeared again in a heartbeat. The crowd, didn’t even take notice of the young boy, entranced with the tawny blonde singer as usual.

Sloane sat down, crossed her legs and nodded toward Rory, to begin. Rory started picking a simple guitar melody on his trusty Gibson acoustic, the first guitar he ever picked up. Sloane swayed lightly to the rhythm, eyes on the horizon above the crowd. Soon after, Marshall joined in with quiet, but strong beat on drums. At the same time, Oscar added the baseline to the song.

Taking a deep breath, Sloane began the song.

If you, If you could return, Don’t let it burn, Don’t let it fade, I’m sure I’m not being rude, It’s just your attitude, It’s tearing me apart, It’s ruining every day

I swore, I swore I would be true, But honey so did you, So why were you holding her hand? Is that the way we stand? We’re you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you?

Sloane sang gently, her eyes closed with a pained look on her face. She thought back to the day before, when everything fell apart.

———

“Sloane, honey, please tell me what’s wrong! You’re being so closed off with me today!” Robert pleaded, grabbing her hand while she was walking away. Sloane yanked her hand away and walked towards an empty storeroom in the hotel corridor.

“Don’t get any ideas, we need to talk privately” Sloane commanded as she entered into the storeroom. It had barely enough space for both of them to fit, being crammed full with towels and bedsheets.

“Please, love, jus’ tell me what’s bothering you, I wanna make you happy”

“Oh fuck off Robert, you’re so fake and a liar. These past couple of months have all been a lie!”

“What’re talkin’ about? I have never lied to you once”

“Seriously? ‘I’ve never lied to you’? Are you actually for real right now? Do you know what I just found out Robert? You’re fucking married! And she’s coming here tonight! You didn’t think I would deserve to know that!” She yelled, ignoring her previous statement about keeping this private.

“I didn’t tell you because I was scared okay? I have never felt like this before with anyone else. All the groupies were just for sex, but when I met you I had fallen for you Slo, you make me a better person in every way”

“I don’t care how I make you feel, you’re still married! With kids! How would they feel if they found out their father was in a relationship with a woman other than their mother? I can’t believe you did this to me willingly, even after I told you what happened with my parents. That messed me up, seeing my father with another woman, and leaving my mother for her. Never seeing him again, choosing his new family over me and my siblings. That hurts me the most Robert, you knew my history and you ignored it!” Sloane cried out, tears falling freely on her face, running her dark eye makeup.

“I never meant to hurt you love, you mean so much to me. I just didn’t think- I never fuckin think, but I my feelings were so strong for you, I never thought about Maureen, I’m shamed to admit it” Robert plead, guilt weighing on his conscience. He reached out to wipe her tears away, but Sloane turned her head, the same pained look on her face.

“We’re done. I can’t stay with someone who could forget about their own wife and kids, and forget to tell their girlfriend that she’s actually a mistress. Goodbye” Sloane said, pushing her way out of the cramped closet, before running to the elevator at the end of the hall.

———

But I’m in so deep, You know I’m such a fool for you, You got me wrapped around your finger, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to? Do you have to let it linger?

Sloane sang emotionally, a single tear escaped her tear duct. She took the break for guitar solo to take a couple deep breathes, and to calm her heightened emotions down.

Oh, I thought the world of you, I thought nothing could go wrong, But I was wrong, I was wrong

If you, if you could get by, Trying not to lie, Things wouldn’t be so confused, And I wouldn’t feel so used, But you always knew, I just want to be with you

———

Sloane sat at the large round table, sipping her wine. The two bands had just completed all the concerts in France, and were having a celebratory dinner for the night. The lights were dim in the fancy restaurant, but Sloane could still see the heartbreaking sight of Maureen and Robert cozying up to eachother. She longed to be the one Robert was dedicated to, to be his Maureen, to be the one who sipped on his beer instead of her wine for a change, to rest her hand on his knee. She wished to be the one who would sleep with him in bed each night, without a worry of cheating or unfaithfulness. Her heart was also broken for Maureen, she was so inlove with Robert, as was he with her. She was also probably the greatest mother out there, being a single parent for a lot of the year.

Sloane switched her focus from the smitten couple, to Marshall and John Bonham's discussion on gongs, congas and all exotic drums.

Everything had been going so well, the concerts each night going to wonderfully, the bands got on great together. Even all the touring crew and management got on well with eachother. It was like one, big, slightly dysfunctional family.

Sloane wished she could vent to one of her bandmates about her case of ill fated love, but she knew if she told any of the CAP boys, tension would arise between the bands, and she simply couldn't bear to break the harmony.

“I’m sorry everyone, but I feel a bit ill and I think it would be best if I went to my room” Sloane announced, rising from her chair. She briefly locked eyes with Robert, before averting her eyes that threatened to fill with tears.

“Are you sure you’re okay Slo? I can come up and look after you if you feel faint or anything?” Rory asked genuinely, concerned for his little sister, he noticed she had been a little less bubbly than normal today.

“I’m fine Ror, I’ll think being on the go and travelling for the last couple of months has caught up with me. I’ll call you if I need you. Love you” she said, hugging him tightly.

“Love you, stay safe sis”

A chorus of goodbyes were heard as she left the table and walked out of the brassiere restaurant.

As soon as she entered her large room, she decided to clean up her stuff in order to distract herself. She folded all her clothes, tucked all her shoes into her suitcase, and cleaned up her makeup station on the vanity, placing the assortment of beauty products in the black makeup bag she owned.

After she was done cleaning, she ordered a couple bottles of wine, with some croissant from room service, taking advantage of the readily available French delicacies.

Lowering herself into the warm bubble bath she ran while waiting for her room service, her mind wandered to the whole situation, creating lyrics in her head. Luckily she brought her songbook, so there was no need to get out of the bath in search for it. She poured her heart out into the lyrics. After finishing the lyrics up, she soaked for a little longer, until she felt herself pruning and wrapped the fuzzy bath robe around herself.

She was about to turn off her bedside light to sleep, when she heard a light knock on the door. Her head scrambled, trying to figuring out who it was. Must be Rory checking up on me she thought. Opening the door, her heart skipped a beat at the visitor.

“Sloane let me-“

“Robert, please, I told you we were over”

“Will you let me speak, I need to talk to you”

Sloane stepped aside from the door, letting him in. She guided him to the seating area of the room, not wanting to risk being near the bed.

“Uh, d’want tea or something?” Sloane asked the blonde man, the air heavy with awkward tension.

“Yeah sure, love. That’d be great” Robert answered warmly.

“So, what do you want to say” Sloane asked, pushing his tea on front of him.

“Sloane, I’m sorry. I still do love you and I hate that I fucked everything up. I was just so infatuated- I still am, and I regret that I made you feel upset. I just want to say sorry”

“I- I still love you too Robert, it wasn’t just one sided, I really thought you were the one”

“Sloane, I don’t know what to say… If- if you ask me to, I will. I want you. I want to be yours.”

“Robert- I. I can’t do that. As much as I want to love you and be with you, I can’t be a homewrecker. I’ve seen the way you are with Maureen, you love her. I know in my gut that you’re better off with her. She loves you and deserves you 100%” Sloane’s face was wet with tears.

“Uh, okay. I’m sorry love, I really wish I didn’t fuck up our relationship. I really hope that one day we can be friends again, when you’re ready” Robert got up to leave, but was stopped when Sloane grabbed his hand.

“There’s a part of me that will always love you Robert. This was wonderful while it lasted” She spoke with a sad smile on her face.

Robert squeezed her hand in agreement, before exiting the room.

———

And I’m in so deep, You know I’m such a fool for you You got me wrapped around your finger, oh, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to? Do you have to let it linger?

Oh I’m in so deep, You know I still have love for you, My love has wrapped me round your finger, oh, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have? Do you have to let it linger?

The CAPs finished their song, and Sloane stood up to thank the crowd.

“Robert, darling, there you are. Was that singer at the dinner last night?” Maureen asked warmly to her husband, joining him in the wings.

“Uh, yeah, but she left early because of travel sickness y’know the sort” Robert answered absentmindedly, his deep blue eyes trained on the lead singer, who was preparing for the next song in the band’s set list.

“I must have missed her. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? I love that song she just sang, great voice” Maureen mused, admiring Sloane’s confidence , akin to her husbands.

“Yeah, yeah she is. She’s a beautiful person, inside and out”

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

my first Robert fic!!! I’m more of a Jimmy girl, but I love the golden god too (Leo men <3)

as always, any criticism/ideas are welcome in my inbox or comments 🤍

tag list : @dreamersdrowse @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @princesspagey ask me if you would like to be added!!

[sunmoonandeddie]

oh, captain, my captain

pairing: professor!steve rogers x reader

word count: 2,090

summary: Steve Rogers got bored in his retirement, so he picked up the hobby of teaching art. But he still feels restless until his missing piece comes along.

warnings: swearing, little bit of smutty smut, dub-con, drinking, manipulation, steve is a little dark but reader is into it in the end

a/n: This is... a little darker than what most people expect from me. But I wrote this for a dear friend, so I really, really hope you all enjoy it!! Also, please read the warnings. I'm not responsible for your media consumption <3

Life after the Avengers was mundane.

Not that Steve didn’t like the quiet days, where he knew he wasn’t going to be running off and risking his life at any moment, mind you. In fact, he was finding that retirement rather suited him.

Except for the fact that he was bored.

Bucky and Sam were always busy on some kind of mission together, saving the world and splitting their time between Brooklyn, Washington D.C., and New Orleans. Or NOLA, as Buck liked to call it now.

Perhaps the boredom was why he took up art again. He did go to art school, after all, and had even graduated. It was after his first official professional art show that the university contacted him.

They wanted him to teach young minds how to make art.

It was the perfect solution to his boredom problem.

Of course, he should’ve realized that getting a new job wouldn’t make him feel complete. No, unfortunately, he hasn’t found the missing piece in his hundred years.

At least until you walked into his classroom on the first day.

Steve’s eyes focused on you immediately, enamored by the curve of your legs and the Cupid’s bow of your upper lip. “Hello, you,” he mumbled softly under his breath as he watched you sit down to what appeared to be a friend of yours. He scrolled through his attendance on the school supplied computer in front of him, raising his brows as he found the name next to your university ID picture.

A perfect name for a perfect girl.

Suddenly he felt the need to have a few figure drawing classes. Privately. With you. With your clothes off.

And maybe his clothes would be off, too.

He stood up as the clock finally hit one in the afternoon, holding his laptop. “Alright, please let me know if you’re here as I call your names,” he said, before going through the roster quickly.

When he called your name, and you responded with a soft, “Here!” he almost fucking came in his pants.

“Alright. In this class, as with many art classes, we’re going to get very… personal,” he said as he started to walk through the easels and those sitting in front of them. “So on the first day, rather than reading through the syllabus that’s readily available on your phone, I like to do some ice breakers.” He couldn’t help but grin at the collective groan that rang through the class. “I know, I know. But like I said, this class is going to get very personal. So come on, let’s all get in a little closer.”

“Do you mind?” You asked quietly as you scooted her stool in between two others that he couldn’t remember the names of. You gave them a blinding smile as they made room, perching in your seat like a little angel.

His little angel.

Everything seemed to be a blur as he led them in a series of questions, but he barely retained any information from anyone except you. At least he had his phone secretly recording in his pocket so he could go back and relisten later (even if it was mostly just to hear your voice.)

Favorite color?

“Green.”

Favorite holiday?

“New Year’s Eve.”

Favorite artist?

“Marilyn Minter.”

That was interesting to him. That showed that you had a naughty side.

A side he so desperately wanted to get to know.

The only issue was that he needed to find a way to get you alone, and that was going to take trust built up over time.

He was truthfully, absolutely amazed that it only took a few weeks before you were coming to him with wonder-filled eyes, asking him if you could please schedule some time during his office hours to go over some of your portfolio.

Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Hey, you made it,” he said when you walked in after a light knock on the door, your portfolio in hand. Steve stood and immediately pulled out the chair for you like a proper gentleman. Subtly, he took in a deep breath as the cloud of your perfume enveloped him like a warm hug.

It was something classy. Something you had clearly splurged on.

Perhaps Gucci or Valentino or something.

“I’m sorry for being late,” you said as Steve glanced at the clock.

You were maybe three minutes late at the most.

“The subway was delayed, and unfortunately, I can’t control when the subway stops and goes,” you continued, letting out a nervous laugh as you opened up your portfolio. “Did you get my email with my previous pieces?”

“Yes, I did!” He said as he sat back down at his desk. “And honestly, I haven’t been this impressed in a long, long time. I would love to possibly mentor you? Of course, that means a lot more hours spent with an old man like me.” Eyes crinkling, he couldn’t help but laugh when you laughed.

He was sure that he almost had you right where he wanted you. The corner you were backing yourself into was almost too perfect.

You seemed… amazed. Absolutely flabbergasted by his offer. “Really?” You breathed out, leaning closer, elbows resting on your knees. “You’d really do that? That would be… I… Thank you.” Shaking your head, you scooted your chair a little closer. “How much should I pay you? I’ve never had a personal mentor before.”

And there it was. The corner he wanted you in.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry about money,” he insisted as he looked deep into your eyes. It would be so easy to just get lost in them… “But, I do need assistance with something.”

“Of course!” You were like a doe-eyed little fawn, chasing him—the magnificent stag—through a field of wildflowers. “Whatever you want!”

Steve put on the most bashful, boy next door look he could muster. “Well… I’ve been trying to get back into figure drawing, but you’d be surprised at how hard it is finding a class to take that won’t freak out that I’m… you know. Steve Rogers.”

The look on you face let him know immediately there was no way you were going to say no. Hell, you were looking at him like he was the last puppy on the side of the road in a box that had ‘FREE’ written on the side.

In the rain.

“When do we start?”

Steve got everything set up in his home studio that night, only to sit until Friday night, when he’d planned for you to come over. Admittedly, he may have gone a little overboard with the mood lighting and the bottle of red wine that he’d left open on the counter to breathe, two crystal wine glasses resting next to it.

The good crystal.

He practically ran to the door when he heard the doorbell. “Hey, I was a little worried you would have trouble finding it,” he said as he guided you inside, a large hand coming to rest on the small of your back.

“Oh, I just Ubered,” you said, ducking your head as you let him lead you into his large home. “I don’t have a car. It’s too expensive and there’s no point when I live in the city. Though, the drive out here was absolutely gorgeous. I can see why you got a place a little bit upstate.”

Steve grinned, fighting the urge to say that it could also be your place. But that was for the future. “Yeah, the views and the quiet is worth the forty-five minutes or so I commute everyday.” He opened up the door to his home studio, all the windows wide open.

You wandered around the room, looking at the various art supplies and canvases scattered haphazardly around the room. In the very center was a chaise lounge with a blanket draped across it. “This is amazing… God, if I had my own art studio at home, I don’t think I’d ever leave.”

He poured out two glasses of wine, gently pressing one into your hands. “Well, you can always use this one. I have more space than I could probably ever use.” He sipped at his own wine, watching the way the glass pressed to your lips, watching the way you swallowed down the sweet liquid.

He couldn’t get drunk, but you certainly could.

It was around your third glass that he finally got to the point of why you were there. “So, I really want to paint you lying on this chaise,” he said as he guided you back. “But… Would it be possible for you to pose in the nude? You have just… the most natural beauty. I want to be able to only focus on that.”

“Oh my god, yeah!” You said as you set your glass of wine on the little table. With your inhibitions lowered, there was no hesitation as you stripped out of your clothing, tossing it all to the side. “You just move me how you want me.”

Oh, he would.

His own wine glass was set to the side before he moved closer, his eyes locked on yours. “Yeah?” He guided you to lie down on the bed, letting his fingers drift over your soft skin. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous… Could just look at you forever…” His thumb brushed over one of your hard nipples, teasing the little peak as his cock ached inside his sweats. “I could never paint anything else except for you… and I’d die the happiest man in the world.” Carefully, gently, he moved your legs so one of your knees was bent, your legs spread wide for him.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your skin feeling flushed from the wine and the excitement of this god-like man touching you. “Mmm… Professor…”

Steve’s eyes were locked in on the prize, that blooming flower between your thighs, glistening with sweet nectar. “I always love a hands on approach,” he cooed as he ran a single finger through your folds, gathering up your slick.

The taste was exquisite.

Pretty moans fell from your lips, your back arching as your legs instinctively spread wider for him. “Please…”

He knew you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. It was fate, you walking into his class.

“Do you want me to touch you, baby girl?” He asked, loving the purr that rumbled in your chest as he found your swollen clit. “So needy… When’s the last time your pretty little kitty got so much attention, angel? You’ve been neglecting her, haven’t you?”

At your nod, you tried sitting up a bit, lip caught between your teeth. “Y-Yes. Please… Please.”

Steve quickly realized you didn’t even know what you were asking for.

“So innocent. So sweet,” he said as he wrapped his hands around your waist to pull you to the edge of the chaise. He leaned in and took in a deep breath, groaning. “I wanna be able to smell you for days.” At the first lick of his tongue, he knew he had you wrapped around his fingers.

And when you finally orgasmed, soaking his beard with your juices? Fuck. He was even more of a goner than he was before.

Steve loved the way that you laid limbless on the chaise, foot lazily bouncing as you dozed. It was easily a sight that he could get very, very used to very quickly. This was going to be so much easier than he thought it was going to be.

While he knew he was the right one for you, being able to know that you weren’t going to fight him gave him an amazing sense of relief.

The next week, he stood at his desk, making notes on his laptop. At five minutes to one, the door opened as the first student to arrive entered.

Immediately looking up, his heart sank. It wasn’t you.

Did you panic after you left his place the next morning? Nothing more had happened that night. Surely getting an orgasm wouldn’t freak you out, right?

His hands were starting to tremble when the door opened again, and he felt someone standing right next to him.

“Professor Rogers?”

His head snapped up, relief flooding him when he saw you. “H-Hello. How can I help you?”

A mischievous smile spread across your face, even though you were clearly trying to contain it. “Is there any possible way you have some free time during your office hours for me to swing by? I’d love to schedule our next figure painting session.”

[fbfh]

here’s to always finding each other

pairing: percy x gn child of calliope reader

wc: 1.6k

warnings: percy kisses reader following a prior agreement that they don’t remember but it’s 100% consentual, you work retail, a hell yeah, memory loss, I think that’s it

summary: You didn’t really expect to have to spend your entire eight hour shift organizing shoe wax any more than you expected your fictional crush from middle school to be real and your boyfriend. Only one of those happened (and the shoe wax was still very disorganized when you left).

song rec: this lofi mix, boba manifesto - chris flemming (mostly as a joke but it slaps)

a/n: i am wOrKiNg oN tHiNgS!!!!!! It’s going well!!! expect some fun surprises soon!!!!!!!!!

Crouched down on the ground, rearranging an end cap of shoe wax in the men’s department wasn’t really what you thought being a grownup would be like as a kid. You can’t complain too much, the pay is pretty good and working conditions are decent - as much as they can be in retail. You stand up to check your progress (and stretch your legs) and notice that guy is still there. He’s been hovering around the athletic shirts and pants for a while, and he keeps checking his phone and looking around. You’re sure he’s probably just waiting for someone, but you’re considering asking if you can help him find anything. 

He has a vaguely familiar energy, and your stomach drops for a moment, hoping you don’t know him from school or something. God, that would be a nightmare. That’s happened to you once or twice, bumping into someone you went to school with, and it’s always as bad as you expect. 

‘You know what,’ you think, trying to see if you can fit the last few containers of wax on the shelf without making them topple over, ‘he’s probably fine. If he needs help he’ll ask for it.’ 

You go back to scanning and adjusting the prices of the clearance shoe polish - the company had changed their packaging recently, so it’s out with the old and in with the identical - but you still can’t shake the feeling of familiarity. 

He turns around, holding up an orange shirt that says ‘go for it’ in a ridiculous font, and you get a glimpse of his face. 

You crouch back down so he won’t catch you staring, and the realization dawns on you. He looks a lot like Percy Jackson from the books you read in middle school. Or was it high school? Everything between 6th grade and high school graduation is kind of blurry and confusing in your memory. Man, you should really re-read those, you heard there was a TV series in the works and you want to remember all the details for when it comes out. You’re a little surprised at how nervous that revelation makes you, like the feeling when you’re a kid going to a theme park and you can see the roller coasters as you pull into the parking lot. Weird. Anyway, it’s not the first time you’ve seen a customer who looks like a character from something. One time you saw someone who you swore looked just like Pidge from the Voltron reboot that came out a few years ago, and a coworker saw a girl who looked like an anime character she loves… Raka something? Her name sounded like gravity, but that wasn’t it. You shrug, making a mental note to ask her about it later. 

You stand up once again to take one final look before you move onto the next end cap, and see that the guy is standing next to you. You look up at him, and all those weird feelings of excitement and something close to anticipation amplify, as you get a closer look at him. He really, really looks like Percy Jackson. Like if the Viria art was a real person. 

“Uh… hi, can I help you find anything today?” You ask, snapping out of your daze and into your customer service voice. He takes a second before answering, and you’re a little unnerved by the way he’s looking at you; warm and intimately, like he’s known you for years. 

“No,” he replies, a dreamy tone to his voice, “I’ve got everything I need.” You’re pleasantly surprised and a little freaked out that he even has the accent. Seriously, if he’s not already, this guy should really get into cosplay. Also, is he flirting with you? He seems to realize what he just said, and backtracks slightly. 

“Actually, um, I was wondering if you could help me out with something over here,” he says, and you agree, in your signature chipper tone. He guides you to a table covered in various sweatpants behind a mirror. 

He glances around again, and you have to ask. 

“You know, if you’re having trouble finding someone we can-”

“Walkie customer service to have my group meet me at the front desk.” He finishes seamlessly. 

“It’s not my first time at the rodeo,” he chuckles, and you get the feeling there’s more meaning behind what he’s saying, like an inside joke you’re not a part of. 

“Oh… yeah.” you say, and he can sense your surprise, “How did you…” you trail off, and he can sense the silent question in your voice. He lets out a breathy chuckle, cheeks flushed pink.

“Like this.” 

He catches your face in his hands, and presses his lips to yours. Your eyes widen in shock, mostly at the fact that you don’t feel threatened by his presence at all. You’re shocked at how comfortable you feel around him, how you feel in your bones that you’ve known him for years when the logical side of your brain is telling you that you first saw him ten minutes ago. He pulls away, searching your eyes for… something. 

“Uh…” you glance away, brow slightly furrowed, then back up at him, “what the fuck?” 

His expression softens, and he says gently, “Give it a minute.” 

You’re about to ask him to give what a minute, when a barrage of memories, feelings, people you don’t think you’ve ever met but seemed to be best friends with knocks you off your feet. You try to take in a breath, but the air in the room seems to have taken a temporary vacation from your lungs. 

You look up at him, eyes flared in understanding and shock. He mutters something in confirmation. Someone yells nearby, and you both look over to an adolescent boy asking his mom why he can’t wear neon basketball shorts to school. Percy looks back over at you.

“Is there somewhere a little more-” the mom starts arguing back and forth with her son at a louder volume, and he continues, “private… where we could talk?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll… I’ll get somewhere.”

A few minutes later, you’re sitting across from each other on two step stools in one of the stock rooms. You’re still surprised at how easily you had lied to your boss that your long distance boyfriend showed up a few weeks early after over a year of not being able to see each other, and you needed a moment to catch up. She had agreed readily, asking that you tell her when you’re ready to get back to your tasks. 

“I’m sorry about that,” he starts, snapping you out of your train of thought, and you look up at him, “I never would have kissed you without asking, but you made me promise last time that the next time you lose your memories I would get them back to you as fast as I can.” 

“Uh, it’s okay, I feel like I remember talking about that.” Your memories are still fuzzy, but coming back sporadically.

“It can take a few days for them to come back fully.” He adds. 

The most surreal part of this is you remember vividly what happened in the books - because you lived through it. You hold back a giddy laugh bubbling up.

“So…” you begin, and he looks at you, his gaze warm, “it’s all real?” you breathe the words, almost afraid of an answer. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, looking away briefly, overwhelmed that you’re with him once again.

“The short version is, since your godly parent is Calliope, you sometimes get sent to other worlds. You kind of have to hop scotch from one place to another, like getting a goldfish used to a new bowl of water. The mist - or sometimes,” he glances up, pointedly and irritable, “other factors - usually take away a lot of your memories. They say it’s to make the transition easier, but who knows. Anyway, there are these waypoints, kind of like a time loop that you hang out in until you’re either ready to leave or one of us finds you first.”

“So this…” you motion around to the rows of cardboard boxes filled with plastic cups and paper towels. He nods and you let out a laugh of relief that you really won’t have to work here long term. 

“As soon as you’re ready we should probably head out to camp. It’s gonna be a bit of a drive.” 

“Wait, it’s all like… here? Like in this world?”

“Yeah,” he smiles again, once more sending butterflies through your chest. 

You let out a disbelieving, excited laugh.

“Alright. Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.” 

Before you can get up, he takes your hand in his. He watches his fingers skim back and forth for a minute before looking up at you. 

“You know that I’ll always find you, right?” there’s an overwhelming torrent of emotions he’s somehow managing to convey through his eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter where you go, or how long you’re gone, or if we even remember each other. I will always find you.” His hand comes up to your cheek for the second time today, and your head tilts into his embrace automatically. You somehow trust him more than anyone or anything else right now. You nod gently.

“I do.”

He glances away again, cheeks flushing red, and he sighs, kissing your forehead. 

You get up and head towards the exit together, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“How about we get some bubble tea once we’re in the city?”

“Oh hell yeah!” 

You don’t remember the last time you had bubble tea, but it sounds really, really good right now. 

[write-ur-wrongs]

Mother, Mother pt.2

A/N: Finally ready to post part 2 of my dad!Geralt fic!!! Part 2 is loosely based on this prompt Another request with baby!👀🥰 Reader has a newborn and geralt is just watching them thinking about how much have changed and how reader turned his life around...🍪 so I really want to thank that anon for their prompt and their patience! I definitely took some liberties with this story and worry the plot got lost along the way(?) but I really hope you like it nonetheless! Full disclosure I haven’t proof-read this piece so forgive the many typos!!

__________________________________________________________

“I said, no,” Geralt repeated himself slowly and with great authority, “thank you.”

The village healer looked at the witcher with eyes wide in disbelief, unable to accept that there was anything a witcher wouldn’t do for coin. Especially this witcher – the White Wolf – or so they used to call him. He used to be a force to be reckoned with on the continent, but now it seemed there was rarely a job he’d be willing to take.

“No? B-but who will help us!” they shouted desperately, “you can’t just leave this village to fend for itself! The creature will kill us all, Witcher!”

Geralt closed his eyes and took a deep breath before repeating himself yet again. “Please understand, I can’t help you, but I know people who can. Eskel is highly qualified and will be here by the next full moon. He will help you; I assure you.”

“But you’re here now,” the healer said, still shaking his head, “you could resolve this by nightfall! Why should these people wait a week for peace?”

“Hm.” He growled, lowly, biting down on his cheek to keep himself from giving into his rage and his pride. He wasn’t just living for himself anymore, not just living for the coin or by the witcher’s code; he had a family now.

He knew the world wouldn’t be easy to convince regarding his change in career path. Hell, it had taken most of your pregnancy to convince his brothers at Kaer Morhen of his plans. When he first told them you were pregnant, and it was his, they laughed heartily while sharing quick looks of concern between one another; fearing you’d strayed and were trying to play poor Geralt for a fool.

Yet that reaction was nothing compared to the one they gave him when Geralt admitted that his days of being a witcher were over. He’d be a consultant now. He’d travel the continent only when he heard of monsters through Jaskier’s letters, and once he reached these villages, he’d take stock and refer the case to one of his brothers, who’d pay him a modest commission for the referral. Geralt never took contracts he deemed to be too dangerous (which, so it happened, was most of them). The rule was if he wouldn’t readily bring Cirilla along to help, it was too dangerous for him alone.

Once, he let pride take precedence and he accepted a contract he knew was dangerous. It felt good to be back in the saddle, both literally and figuratively. He and Roach took to the forest like birds on a breeze, and his sword was just an extension of himself as he wielded it fiercely and with grace.

While he did conquer the beast in the end, it did put up quite a fight, and everything he thought made the fight worth it was washed away the instant he limped into your home and saw the look on his pregnant wife’s face and heard the cries of his beloved child surprise. To this day, he still feels the panicked sound of Ciri’s fearful shriek and your horrified sob weigh heavily in the pit of his stomach.

He felt this very weight now as he considered this desperate healer’s words. Yes, he’d handled this type of monster many times before, but it wasn’t worth it.

“Listen to me, this type of creature is only a threat during a full moon,” Geralt said, “just educate your people, spread the word, you’re in a position of authority here – use it.”

The healer sighed deeply before muttering to themselves in frustration. They pulled their cloak tighter around their body and made a scene of grabbing the coin-filled sac from the table. Geralt rolled eyes his at the paranoid healer before gesturing for them to head outside.

“Fine, leave! But if you leave now and anyone dies, their blood will be on your hands!” shouted the healer, as Geralt tended to Roach.

Geralt rolled his eyes before mounting Roach, urging her onto the trail.

This isn’t my fight, he thought, and their people will be fine.

You were having a wonderful morning. Wren slept through the night for the first time in who-knows how long, and Ciri was relaxing as she entered her fifth day without a magical episode; those lessons with her aunt Yennefer were definitely paying off.

Now you were savouring the gentle afternoon breeze, resting your knees in the cool earth of the garden as the sun warmed you from above. You loved harvesting produce and tending to the flowers; this year was especially bountiful thanks to a rainy spring and temperate summer. As you picked tomatoes off the vine, you smiled softly at the sound of Ciri celebrating a successful hit on her target across the yard.

Meanwhile, Wren played happily in the dirt at your side. She’s been sitting up on her own now which was such a thrill. Such a small change, but it granted you freedoms you didn’t know you’d been missing.

“Mama, snek!” Wren squealed, proudly holding an earthworm up at you. You laughed in relief upon seeing what she was holding up – for half a second you thought she’d managed to snag an actual snake.

“Wow my girl,” you cooed, “what a find!”

At the sound of your praise, Wren smiled up at you brightly and closed her little fingers around the earthworm with pride.

“Careful now, love! Don’t harm it,” you said, gently prying open her stubby fingers and releasing the worm back into the soil, “these little guys play an important role in the health of our garden.”

“You know she doesn’t understand you, right mom?” Ciri said a little breathlessly after stabbing her sword into the earth.

“I don’t think we can say that with certainty, Ciri. She is a witcher’s daughter after all, we are in for a lifetime of surprises I’d say.” You replied with a small shake of your head. Ciri rolled her eyes at you before making off towards the house at a run.

“Cirilla,” you warned, “don’t leave your sword in the yard! And wipe it down before you take it in – I don’t want dirt tracked in again.”

“Mom!” she groaned, stomping back to get her sword. “Witchers don’t need to do these ridiculous chores…” she said under her breath.

“They don’t get warm meals or comfortable beds either!” you replied in a sing-song, knowing it would drive Ciri crazy – you hated when she grumbled at you. Ciri had great respect for her father but would sometimes treat you like you were nothing more than a headmistress at school. Having spent time with witchers and sorceresses alike, scolding didn’t command respect; at least when you played it light it got her attention.

“Yeah – I know! I’ve lived those lives!” Ciri shouted, storming back towards the house, sword in hand.

Fuck. You forgot she was there when Cintra fell. How could you forget?! She was alone and, on the run, and oh gods if Geralt had been here and heard this he’d –

“Ciri, wait, I’m so sorry. I’m –”

“Sounds like someone could use some help.”

You stopped cold at the sound of the strangers’ voice. It ran through you like mead – ice cold but left a strange burning sensation in its place. Ciri also stopped in her tracks, dropping her hand from the door but keeping a firm grip on the helm of her sword. Ciri cast a quick glance at the stranger standing on the edge of your property before settling her nervous eyes on you.

You did your best to evoke confidence before turning to see this stranger for yourself.

It was Visenna.

Again, you did your best to seem confident as you addressed your eldest. “Ciri,” you said, not taking your eyes off the druid, “take Wren into the house, quickly!”  

“Mom?”

“Cirilla please, take her and go into the house,” you said, impressed at your ability to keep your voice level. “And take your sword with you,” you added, turning to give her what you hopped was a look that encouraged her to stay calm and be careful.

Ciri said nothing but scooped her sister up and onto her hip with one arm while keeping her sword steadily by her side.

Once you heard the door close, you cast a quick glance to make sure your girls were safe before turning your attention back to the woman standing at the gate.

“Why are you here, Visenna?” you asked, holding your head high despite the fact your heart was pounding in your ears.

“Oh child,” her words dripped with condescension, “I never expected my son to write me back, but I had hoped he’d share the contents of my letter with his wife.”

“He told me about the letter,” you said, giving her a tight close-lipped smile, “in fact he told me all about you. So, I’m going to ask you again, why are you here?”

“If you know about the letter, then you know why I’m here.”  

“Could you be so cold as to have you forgotten your history with your son? The way you left him to be tested on like a rat? You have no right to be here.” Your voice cracked as you finished your last sentence, and Visenna tilted her head at your sign of weakness.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, dear. You weren’t there -”

“Neither were you!” you spat; with a harshness you didn’t think you had in you.

“Hm.” Visenna crossed her arms and watched you closely through narrowed eyes. You hated that she reminded you of Geralt as she seized you up – the had the same mannerisms, the same affinity for the non-verbal. Geralt could never know.

The druid’s scrutinizing glare made you squirm, and when you broke eye contact with her for a moment of reprieve, she moved to open your gate. For the briefest moment, your panic left you paralyzed as you watched the woman begin a confident stride towards the house.

“Stop!”

You whipped your head around as you heard Ciri come bursting out of the front door. She was wielding her sword up in front of her with one hand while the other hugged Wren onto her side.

“Do not come any closer, I am warning you!” she shrieked, her light eyes wild as her mousey hair blew behind her.

“Ciri-” you tried, holding one hand out to calm her.

“No!” she yelled, keeping her eyes and her sword fixed on Visenna, who was now standing stock-still at the gate.

“Stop trying to tame her, dear,” Visenna interjected. “Let the lion cub roar.”

At the sound of her old nickname, you took in a sharp breath and felt your heart drop to your stomach. It felt like the world stopped turning as Ciri reacted to the trigger.

Cirilla could handle discussions about her old life in small doses and only on her terms. Whenever the dreams came to her, it would take you hours to calm her down. More often than not, the episodes left you and Geralt drained and deeply concerned. Yennefer was really the only person Ciri responded to, and while her methods and lessons have helped, sometimes the pain brought on by the memories was simply too great.

Now, as the four of you stood in your garden, you could feel the earth begin to vibrate beneath your feet. Ciri’s jaw was clenched tight and her nostrils were flared. She slowly knelt down and placed Wren onto the ground before standing tall once again.

“Do not call me that.” She seethed, voice dripping with magic.

“Come now, child,” Visenna replied, seemingly unaware of the storm brewing, “I am your grandmother. I can help you; teach you.”

“You are not my grandmother!” Ciri shrieked, pushing a violent wind towards the druid which forced her to take a step back. “Get out of here! Leave!”

“I – I don’t mean any disrespect, Ciri. The Lioness was –”

“Ciri, no, wait –”

Everything happened so quickly. You felt the burning rush of Ciri’s magic roar past you and tried desperately to keep your eyes open so you could see Wren. Though your eyes stung against the harsh blast Ciri was emitting, you saw Wren crying soundlessly behind her sister, her chubby hands reaching out towards you in desperation. You tried to step towards her but an invisible force pushed you to the ground. You pulled yourself up on one elbow and tried to reach towards your baby without luck. Everything was burning and it took all of your strength to stay alert.

Meanwhile, Ciri’s blast of magic shot at Visenna like a bolt of lightening. Out of the tip of her sword and from her outstretched hand came a bright blue flame surrounded by pulses of violent wind. The destructive blast uprooted the gate and surrounding fence, throwing them back into the forest beyond. Burning shrapnel and earth flew towards her at breakneck speed, but the druid reacted quickly, pulling a portal with the help of an amulet and escaped the blast.

The garden in the path of Ciri’s blow burned harshly – leaving nothing behind but ash; except for the pocket where you lay. You tried to call out to Ciri to calm her down but there was no air for you to draw from. You let the force of her magic hold you down for a moment, trying to recuperate your strength, and when you looked up again you saw Wren taking a few wobbly steps toward her sister.

Holy fuck, you thought. These were her first steps.

You watched with wide eyes as Wren took step after step towards her sister, whose magic raged on. You were so drained by the weight of Ciri’s magic that you were convinced your eyes were deceiving you.

You watched in disbelief as Wren took step after step towards Ciri. The moment her little hand reached her sisters leg, the spell broke and Chaos released its hold on Cirilla. Drained from the exertion, she lost consciousness and started to collapse in on herself, her sword falling from her hand and onto the ground with a dull thud.

You scrambled to your feet and raced to Ciri, dropping to your knees once you reached her to catch her in her fall. You smoothed the ashen strands out of her face and rocked her gently from side to side, breathing shakily through your silent tears. You didn’t know when you started to cry, but when Wren waddled her way to you and nestled onto Ciri’s lap to press her face into the crook of your neck, you were sure you’d be crying forever.

“What the fuck,” Geralt growled upon seeing the destruction as he rode up to the house from the trail. In a growing panic, he urged Roach into a canter. When they got to where the gate should have been, he dismounted and ran towards the house at a sprint, his heart pounding in his ears. When he saw you sobbing on the ground with an unconscious Ciri and weeping Wren, he lost all control.

“Y/N! Y/N what happened?! Who did this?” he shouted, panic rising. When he spotted Ciri’s sword on the ground, Geralt fell to his knees beside you and quickly scanned you all for any sign of injury. You were weeping, holding tightly to Ciri, who was unconscious, and Wren, you

“Y/N please talk to me,” he said more harshly than he meant it, while brushing wild strands of hair out of your face gruffly.

“Ciri, she um –” you choked, working to slow your breathing, “she lost control of her magic…”

“Yeah, I can see that, love.” He said with an incredulous laugh, his eyes scanning your ruined garden with disbelief. “What the fuck happened to make her so upset? Did – did she have a nightmare? Did you, hm, say something to her?”

“Geralt – no,” you said quickly, the tears you managed to calm coming back with a vengeance.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I just…” Geralt regretted the insinuation that this might have been your fault but he’d only ever seen Ciri’s magic be this destructive when she was afraid or hurt. He was at a loss.

You shook your head and turned in his arms to look back at him, readjusting Ciri and Wren in your arms to free an arm which you placed onto Geralt’s chest. You held his eyes and took a steadying breath, unsure of how he’d react.

“We – we were in the garden just, just like always and,” you cast a quick glance down at your daughters before bringing your eyes back up to Geralt’s, both to ground yourself and to hopefully remind him of their proximity in order to temper his reaction, “and Visenna appeared at the gate.”

He gasped sharply at your words, and his body around you. You brought your hand up to his face and tried to calm him. His cat-like eyes were wild and unfocused – he looked like a frightened child and it broke your heart to see him like this. Wren seemed to sense this too, as she scrambled up and reached towards her father’s hair.

Wren’s light tugs managed to pull Geralt out of his shock momentarily and his eyes seemed to come back into focus. Seeing this change, you gently redirected his attention back to you.

“Visenna came for Wren… T-to take her or, or to raise her or something? She mentioned the letter…” Geralt clenched his jaw at the reminder.

You hadn’t motioned the letter in months. Geralt wasn’t at all ready to welcome his mother back into his life, and he definitely didn’t want her anywhere near his family.

“What did she do to Ciri? I swear I’ll –” he seethed.

“No, no, Geralt,” you interrupted gently, moving your hand back to his chest, “she didn’t get the chance. I don’t know what she was going to do, but Ciri came out with her sword,” you stopped short to look down at her with pride, “to protect us.”

“She did?” Geralt let out another incredulous breath, shaking his head at his child surprise.

“Yeah, it was like nothing I’ve ever seen. Her magic, it destroyed everything in its path but somehow, she was sheltering me from the blast. Visenna escaped through a portal, I- I think? But Ciri was… unstoppable.”

“Y/N, if Ciri was able to harness Chaos like this at her will, to protect you; this could mean –”

“Oh no, love, I’m sorry I’m not telling this right. She came out of the house with her sword to protect us but she lost control when Visenna called her the Lion Cub.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Oh, I know,” you agreed emphatically before adding, “and then she called herself Ciri’s grandmother…”

“Fuck!”

“Right,” you sighed, shaking your head as a shudder ran through you.

“Da-ee,” Wren said suddenly, pushing her little hands into her father’s face, causing a shocked laugh to escape his lips. Geralt’s face softened in a way he reserved for his youngest daughter and the sight of it was enough to pull you out of whatever was left of your panic.

“Oh, gods!” you exclaimed, “Geralt you won’t believe this.”

“Hm?” he hummed, not taking his eyes off Wren; he was completely enthralled by his baby.

“She took her first steps – and, gods it was incredible Geralt – when she touched Ciri, it pulled her out of the trance!” You gushed breathlessly.

“She did? That’s my girl!” he beamed, earning a proud giggle from the toddler. “Fuck I hate that I missed this, you’re just full of surprises aren’t you, goose?” he said, peppering light kisses across Wren’s little face.

“I know, love.” You said softly, leaning into his arms once more. “I’m so relieved to have you home.”

“Come on, Y/N, let’s get our girls into the house.” Geralt said as handed Wren off to you before picking Ciri up gently as he stood. You took his outstretched hand rose to your feet along-side him. “I’m not leaving you again, I promise.”

“Geralt, you say that every time.” You tease lightly, holding the front door open for him.

 “No, I mean it this time Y/N, really.” He said quietly, as he laid Ciri down in her room. “I can’t keep doing this. When I’m gone, all I do is think of you and the girls…” he trailed off when he noticed Wren had fallen asleep on the couch. You smiled tenderly as you watched him cradle her into his strong arms.

“My love, you know you’d go crazy if you stayed here with us all the time.” You said as you smoothed his hair out of his face.

“I’d go crazy if anything ever happened to you.” he whispered.

“Hey now… we’re fine,” you tired to reassure him, “today was an anomaly. I doubt Visenna would try that stunt again. Ciri will be fine, she just needs to rest, and tomorrow we can send word out to Yen for support. We – “you paused to take a steadying breath, “we can’t let fear rule our lives, Geralt.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, setting Wren down into her bed before wrapping his arms around your frame, “now when did you get to be so wise?”

“A certain witcher taught me a few things,” you said, a small smirk playing on your lips, “always preaching something or other but sometimes the lessons stick.”

“Is that so?” he growled, a fighting back a smirk of his own.”

“Hmm,” you teased, kissing him deeply.