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accidentally-in-fictional-love · 7 months ago

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Susceptible - Jack Delroy/Reader

Warnings: Fully clothed grinding, very slight dirty talk, very light exhibitionism in a sense, no use of Y/N, female-hinted reader because of skirt/makeup mentions but other than that there's no real gender mention.

Wordcount: 4950

Summary: You spent a small fortune getting a ticket to Carmichael Haig's show on the promise of his new act showing his audience something the world has never seen before, as well as the possible attendance of one Jack Delroy, but will two hours of bullshit be worth the risk?

Notes: There is SO MUCH BUILDUP I'm so sorry I'm so weak for worldbuilding and plot I swear the other one I have planned will be shorter OTL I have never written a reader before but I am a huge fan of them, especially the DDverse ones I've been binging oop, so I hope this is a good first attempt! It's been a few years since I've written anything like this and probably a good decade or so since I last posted anything, so here's hoping I post more in the upcoming future~ This is also completely unbetaed so if you see any mistakes please let me know <3 The Manhattan Center is also real but didn't fit my needs entirely so I mashed it together with the theatre I went to as a kid lol

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Carmichael Haig was back in town and you had no idea why you were here.

He had left for what felt like both forever and not nearly long enough for a few months to do his tour, seeing his smug face everywhere you looked between both digital and paper news and making your distaste grow a little more each time. You had been fond of his trickery for a time, but his move from magic man to skeptic had sucked all the fun out of the act, his determination to not only find the real but humiliate the fakes way past annoying to straight up sickening to you by this point. Tonight’s show proved to be another big presentation of the latter you’d decided when it’d been announced officially, promoted by your favourite talk show host - and current celebrity crush - Jack Delroy; his smile was wide for the cameras but it didn’t reach his eyes, you could always tell between them by now and he did not seem to be as pleased as the two talked about it that night.

‘I’m going to show the world something they’ve never seen before,’ Carmichael had said, his usual smug look in place as he hammed it up for the cameras like he could really pull that off, Jack running with it like the patron saint of patience he had to be.

‘Big talk, you sure I can’t convince you to give our wonderful audience a taste tonight?’ he asked, the crowd cheering at the mere thought of getting to experience his new act an entire month early, but if there was even an iota of temptation within him to share he hid it perfectly. He waved the offer away to everyone’s disappointment, Jack pouting on everyone’s behalf and putting those big eyes on display as his own plea; the ratings, you imagined, would be wonderful for a segment like this when his show was already starting to slip down the line, but even that was no use.

‘You’ll all get a chance to see it on the 13th,’ he promised them as he turned to face the audience, the place and date scrolling across the bottom of the screen yet again, they’d been flashing it every single time it was mentioned to the point where you were sure you’d see it in your sleep tonight, rolling across the bottom half of your dream. ‘Or, those of you who’ve been able to get your tickets will, we’re selling out fast,’ he smirked with a tip of his glass, yet another thing that’d been brought up and hammered home; you’d gone to the Manhattan Center to check a couple days ago, just out of curiosity, the ticket price absolutely ridiculous to the point that you were convinced they’d never sell out, but now you guessed your distaste of him wasn’t as widespread as you’d secretly hoped.

Jack slapped his leg in mock disappointment, Carmichael looking back to him at the sound. ‘Guess you’ll have to tell me all about it the next time you’re back in town, I had asked Gus to pick one up for me but it seems he missed that call,’ he joked, Gus’ surprise at the blame of his absence being placed on him getting a big laugh as his face fell and he tried to explain himself.

Carmichael placed an understanding hand on Jack’s shoulder and leaned in closer, the other man leaning in in return as if to receive some kind of secret. ‘Well then, it’s a good thing my date canceled on me,’ he retorted, and when he pulled his hand back he revealed a ticket, Jack’s eyes going wide as he accepted the gift with a big smile, pointing to it before shaking Carmichael’s hand with a thanks.

Ah, so that was why you were here again.

You knew you’d never be able to get a seat on Night Owls because the thought of Jack seeing you in the crowd made you blush all the way to your shoulders, even on your bravest of nights you hadn’t been able to even call and see if there were any tickets left, but to maybe share an audience with him? To sit in the same room as him where you could steal glances if you were able to find him, with no risk whatsoever of him catching the way your eyes lit up when you looked at that handsome face, that dangerously attractive body? That was doable.

It had cost an arm and a leg to convince that scalper to hand over one of the tickets he was parading around outside the Center, but it was worth it as you stepped inside, your heart racing because, unless he wanted to risk the aftermath of Carmichael calling him out for not going, he was here; somewhere in this building was the man you’d been dreaming about since his debut a few years ago, the one you watched nearly every night without fail just for that hour where he looked at you, talked to you, noticed you even if it was through a camera, and that was all you’d needed until tonight.

You’d gotten a pretty shitty seat despite the price but you didn’t mind, it actually worked out for you considering you weren’t actually there to see the show but to look for someone in the seats in front of you, and you hoped that you’d be able to spot him from where you were in the far back corner. As long as he wasn’t, say, the exact opposite of you then you probably stood a chance of at least a glance, since his ticket came from Carmichael himself you guessed that it was probably close to the front if not front row center just to mess with him and prove that he’d come, and you felt all the hair rise on your arms and neck when Carmichael walked on stage early to very loudly greet someone who’d just walked in.

There he was, leaving his seat to meet the other man in the middle, and he was so much further than you expected but it was still him, big smile in place, hair perfectly combed, his crisp suit being wrinkled by Carmichael’s hands as he gave him a showy hug, and he was beautiful. You froze in the middle of the row, unable to finish the walk as your eyes stayed on him, the people trying to get by you not as starstruck as they attempted to squeeze past when you ignored their presence.

‘Sorry,’ you murmured as you sat as fast as you could, eyes still trained on him as he waved to the crowd to prove that yes, he did honour the gift and was there to see this big new act he’d been promised. You let out an embarrassingly needy whine when he sat back down and you became unable to see him again, the mass of bodies behind him obscuring all but a sliver of the back of his head from this angle, and you’d be damned if you had to spend the next 2 hours stuck like this at a Carmichael Haig show of all things. The person at the end of the row finally arrived and you made your move, hurrying down and taking one last glance before getting ready to make this whole thing a little more bearable. ‘Excuse me,’ you nearly stuttered as the person, a man older than yourself who definitely gave off the air of being a Carmichael fan, looked up at you, ‘would you want to trade seats with me? I was really looking forward to the show but I was too late to grab an aisle seat.’

It’s a blatant lie but the quick glance from before proved that you could see him better from there, and the chance of getting to look at him for the next two hours was worth the look the man gave you at the request.

‘Which one are you?’ he asked, looking down to the few empty spaces still waiting for their owners, and you pulled out your ticket to double check, seeing that it was R51; wow, you didn’t realize how far away R was from A until you saw it firsthand. He looked back down to your seat and considered it, looking you over midthought when he thought you weren’t looking, and he almost got away with it if not for the fact that you felt his eyes on you. ‘$100,’ he decided, the offer knocking the wind right out of you.

‘What? The seat was already $350,’ you choke, giving away the fact that you were really, really late to the party.

‘Take it or leave it, I had the sense to order on time,’ is all he says to that, and you looked back at your possible view before sighing heavily and reaching for your wallet; goddamnit, Jack, if only he knew how worth it he was. You hand over the money and step aside, the man pocketing his fee and leaving the seat for you as promised, and the view is just barely better but there he is again, perfectly in view due to what can only be a miracle, the hole in your wallet feeling a little less big as you watched him turn his head to talk to someone, giving you a perfect side view.

He really was handsome, captivating even from this distance, and you swoon a little as the audience finished filling out, the lights dimming and obscuring your view a little more save the grace of the stage lights that illuminate him from the front as Carmichael walked back out on stage and started the show. You’d never been one for spacing out but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, the $450 price tag of this shitty aisle seat all for him and not feeling so bad even as Carmichael charms everyone around you. He didn’t look to the side that often, you guessed he didn’t actually know his neighbour since the seat was a gift, but the times that he did, where he laughed or sighed at the theatrics or even put his face in his hand because he wasn’t having too much fun, were all cataloged away in your head forever, the perfect souvenirs to last you a lifetime of home viewing after this.

At about an hour in according to your old watch, Jack looked about ready to get up and find any reason to leave, which you couldn’t blame him for, the acts themselves were pretty damn good you realized in the times you actually paid attention, but it was getting so tiring to see Carmichael explain away all of their tricks, to see the joy leave their faces at being called a fraud or having all their mysteries revealed, and it was clear Jack felt the same down in row A. After a particularly rough walk-off from a woman who was trying very desperately to convince Carmichael that she could really read his mind and ending up with the humiliating reality that everything he answered to was false to get her to out herself, you noticed that when you looked back to his seat that Jack isn’t there, and you were in the middle of wondering where he went when the person coming up the aisle came into view so suddenly that it took your breath away.

It was Jack, his brow twitching slightly to keep a neutral face, his footsteps heavy as he tried not to stomp and draw attention to the fact that that last one really pissed him off, his hands already reaching into his suit pocket for something. You tried not to stare the closer he got but it was hard, years of being able to look all you want training your brain to look look look as he approached, and you forced yourself to stare straight ahead at the stage as he reached you. Your hands were clenched tight in your lap as he went to pass row R, and you were in the middle of thinking you were going to make it when he fumbled the small box in his pocket and dropped it with a low curse, the cigarettes he apparently smoked bouncing to the side and coming to a stop between your recently shined shoes.

Your head snapped down so fast you felt it in your neck as he came to a stop beside you, the two of you locating the box at the same time, and you stiffened as he reached for it before realizing how rude that would be despite his own sour mood. ‘I’m sorry, could I bother you for a second,’ he asked, his smile back in place despite being a bit tense, and you stuttered out a confirmation as you leaned down to pick them up.

‘I didn’t know you smoked,’ you blurted out before you could stop yourself, Jack’s hand frozen in midair as he reached for the box, his smile relaxing a little as he looked from your hand to your face.

‘Did I find myself a Night Owl in this sea of skeptics?’ he wondered aloud, your cheeks brightening in a way that really made you pray it was dark enough not to notice.

‘I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,’ you lie, and he crouched down so he could hear your whispers as the crowd reacted to the next act.

‘I take it you’re also not very impressed,’ he figured, hitting the nail on the head based on your expression alone. He chuckled at your silent confirmation and looked back down to the cigarettes, his fingertips just barely touching yours as you both held it, you didn’t even know when he’d grabbed it and you let go before it got awkward, but he didn’t seem to notice. ‘Well, if you don’t tell my producer that I’m smoking again, then I won’t tell Haig that you didn’t like his show, deal?’

You sucked in a breath as he moved the box to his left hand, offering up his right for a handshake this time to seal the deal, your heart pounding as you shook on it, his smile more genuine than you’d seen all night, you could always tell. He stood back up as the act finished and Carmichael went back to his disproving, his mood dropping again as his need to escape rearose. You both offered a look of disdain at the stage before he stood back up to move again, something stopping him midstep before he turned on his heel and leaned back down to you, a shiver running down your spine at how close he was so he could be heard.

‘Have you ever been to one of my shows?’ he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice, his warm breath accidentally hitting your neck and rendering you unable to do anything but glance at him and shake your head no. ‘You’d have a much better time, I’ve got some great stuff coming up,’ he pitched, either completely unaware of your predicament or just used to people acting like this around him, either way he didn’t react when your eyes couldn’t help but flicker down to watch him lick his lips so fast you almost missed it. ‘The next one’s already booked up but if you go down to the studio and give them this card, you should be able to get a spot for a night you’re free, I'd like to see you there.’

He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a business card, flipping it around to the blank side on the back before resting it on the arm of the chair. A pen was found next, and he scribbled a quick note to the ticket seller on it on your behalf, signing it and handing it over with that big showman smile of his. You took it and placed it in your own wallet, the previous hole instantly filled with its presence, his mood clearly raised by the interaction as he wished you a quick goodbye and resumed his journey outside, oblivious to the fact that you were about to disrupt the entire theater if you didn’t find a place to scream and fast.

You gave him a few minutes to reach the doors before jumping to your feet and making for the bathroom, your heels clickclacking on the tile the entire way until you found the correct door. The place was empty, which was great because once you caught sight of yourself you knew that it was bad enough he saw you this way, no one else should get the pleasure; your face was redder than you’d ever seen it, your pupils blown from the exchange and you could’ve sworn you could actually see yourself shaking you were buzzing so hard, your grin so wide anyone else would’ve assumed that Santa had just given you the toy you’d always wanted for Christmas early.

You tried to calm yourself as you ripped off some paper towels and dampened them, patting them against your cheeks and neck to bring your body temperature back down to a normal person’s, carefully avoiding your makeup that you were thankful you spent the time putting on just on the ultra rare off chance you’d run into him. When you were ready to go back - and after a quick internal debate on whether you should try and meet him outside for another, less hushed conversation already - you made sure to calm your breathing before heading back out there, taking a quick moment to look for him before making the trek back to your seat.

When you got back you noticed that no new act was on, Carmichael already talking to the audience and projecting himself up on the screens for all to see, you rolling your eyes as you collapsed into the rich red velvet and preparing for more of his bullshit until Jack returned, if he felt like it that was. Everyone around you was concentrating on his words, staring right ahead as the theater fell silent save for his voice and the sound of a ticking clock; ah, he was trying to hypnotize everyone, that must’ve been his big final act that he’d promised his audience. You weren’t impressed, you’d tried to be hypnotized before at a party in your youth, it hadn’t worked then so it wasn’t going to work now you knew, so you sat back and prepared to at least enjoy whatever he was going to make the audience do.

Your thoughts went back to Jack as Carmichael’s voice slowly got drowned out, the ticking a bit louder in your ears despite the distance, but you didn’t mind because it was nonsense anyway, ‘Now who’s the skeptic,’ you think to yourself as you sink deeper into your chair. You vaguely heard the words, ‘Your greatest desire,’ in your ear before you felt a hand on your shoulder, your eyes leaving the stage to travel up until you saw Jack standing just behind you in the aisle, his smile from before now more like a smirk as he motioned towards the doors like he wanted you to follow him.

You looked back at the stage as Carmichael invited someone from the audience up to stand with him, some poor hypnotized fool who was bound to be humiliated along with everyone else who stood with him tonight, and you decided that you’d rather not see that again before standing and following Jack. There was a small hallway between the theater and the doors on that side of the back wall, the two of you out of view from everyone else but Carmichael’s voice still reaching, and you were about to wonder if he was leading you outside to just leave or talk when he turned and pushed you against the wall with a muffled thud. Your back met cold paint as your chest met with his, your eyes locking as he cornered you where no one could see, a confidence he saved for the cameras now focused solely on you as he looked you over the same way you’d done to him a thousand times over.

‘I couldn’t wait for you to come to my show,’ he whispered, his voice impossibly low as he held you in place, a knee parting yours and making you gasp, ‘you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘You’re just telling me what I wanna hear,’ you managed to get out, his eyes closing as he leaned in to grin against your cheek.

‘Is it working?’

You didn’t dare answer but you might as well have because your silence was enough to spur him into action, your head falling back against the wall as he started to kiss your neck, your hands grasping at anything because this was crazy. The man you’d wanted for years was kissing you not even 30ft away from a room full of people, anyone could come around the corner at any second and catch you, and you bit your lip at the thrill of it all. You’d had dreams like this before, ones that left you panting into your pillow when you awoke, but the real thing was so much better as he sucked a mark into your soft skin, your hand leaving his arm to cover your mouth lest you alert anyone within hearing distance to your current predicament.

You let him do as he pleased, let him ran his hands over your sides and down to the edge of where your lifted skirt was resting against his thigh, your legs shaking as your body tried not to grind against him; it was only due to him holding you that kept you standing as a matter of fact and he seemed fully aware of it as his nails scratched softly against your bare leg. He seemed to love all your reactions to what he did, he was in the entertainment business after all, every noise of approval that slipped through your fingers must’ve been like music to his ears but you had to hold back no matter how much you wanted to indulge him. Being denied what he wanted only made him work harder for it, the assault on your neck moving to your shoulder and collarbone instead of your covered lips, your mouth watering for just a taste as he started to move against you, one hand pulling your waist away from the wall by your lower back as the other moved up and under your skirt.

The first grind of his body against yours was decadent, you swore you could feel it in your soul the way he wanted you just as much as you’d wanted him, like he’d been watching you back through the screen for years and also craved this very moment, and now that he was getting it he wasn’t going to stop, you didn’t want him to stop. You’d never seen him act anything like this before in all his years on TV, a greedy flash of excitement running through you at getting to see such a new side of him quickly overcome by pleasure as he cupped your ass and pulled you even closer. You knew you couldn’t get undressed here, if you’d made it to the bathroom then maybe he’d be doing more but he hadn’t lasted even that long, but even with that desire being restrained you still wanted him here and now. Never in your life had you been this desperate for release but he was bringing out a demon inside of you that desired and needed and wanted so much that you were willing to throw your modesty out the fucking window for just a second of his hot skin pressed against your own, but this would have to do while the show still went on.

‘Jack…’ you moaned as your hand, moist from your panting, gripped his arm once again, Carmichael’s voice getting louder in the distance as you grew closer to your release.

‘Come home with me,’ he begged into your ear, his movements getting rougher as he also grew close, you knew you’d both have to leave before everyone saw you but it was worth it, god it was so worth it. ‘I want to have you all to myself, I need to taste you-’

You bit your lip and led his face away from your neck so you could look into his eyes, his mouth parted as he tried to control his own panting, he was coming apart at the seams for you right here in the hallway, the ticking in your ears either your heartbeat or a clock far away. You moaned his name again as you felt the heat build in your stomach, your back arching and pushing your body into him even more as the door to your right opened.

‘Dreamer, here, awake!’

All at once your knees gave out and you collapsed to the floor before that final wave could push you over the edge, your head heavy and your vision swimming as the body against yours vanished into nothing. ‘Are you okay? What happened?’ Jack’s voice from above asked as his worried expression came into view, the smell of rain and cigarette smoke invading your senses; the sound of the audience in a similar state of confusion drifted around the corner as Jack crouched down next to you, just back inside from his break from the show, the realization that you weren’t as immune to hypnosis as you’d thought hitting you like a bucket of cold water. You just panted in shock, surprise, and waning lust as Jack looked you over in concern, your hands moving to pull the bottom of your skirt down to cover your exposed legs in embarrassment, the scratches you were so certain he’d left behind not there, because he hadn’t been there.

‘I’m fine,’ you force yourself to say after you’d caught your breath, Jack believing you but still helping you to your feet like a gentleman, of course he would never act that way, that was only how you’d wanted him to act, you’d had dreams like that for god’s sake, the real Jack would never-

‘Is the show over?’ he asked as the roar of people applauding overtook the chatter, Carmichael now silent, and you avoided his eye as you started to edge towards the way out.

‘I think so.’

‘What was the big mind-blowing act?’

You put a little distance between yourself and him but he didn’t notice, Jack heading for the corner so he could look at the stage as he waited for your reply. ‘He hypnotized everyone,’ you answered curtly, his reaction big and full of surprise as he looked over the size of the crowd in an awe that wasn’t present for the first hour and a half.

‘Everyone? You should’ve come found me, I would’ve loved to see that.’ He was still looking at the room beyond, your eyes on him as he watched everyone else.

‘I got a little overwhelmed,’ you mumble, and he finally looked at you with that same concerned expression again, and it’s too much after what you’d just thought you’d seen, your eyes finding the floor.

‘What did he make you see?’ he asked, his curiosity quiet but still there under the concern, but you couldn’t answer him. ‘Do you need a ride home, or are you okay to drive?’

He’s too kind, he would never act that way, he would never say that to you.

‘I took a cab, I’ll be fine,’ you tried to say, but still you quickly found yourself being led to the front door as the audience swarmed around you, his hand on your back to make sure you stayed standing, a true gentleman. It had started raining while you were inside which explained the scent pairing with the smoke that covered up his cologne, and you just stood under the marquee as he hailed a cab for you as the sea of skeptics washed around you like rushing water. You hopped inside but he didn’t shut the door right away, leaning down in the rain once you were seated, and for a moment you wondered if he was going to get in when he spoke.

‘I do hope you come to my show, preferably Friday’s, it’s gunna be a good one, I promise,’ he said with that big genuine smile again, your heart pounding as your cheeks glowed red for a reason other than embarrassment as you gave him a small nod.

‘I’ll be there,’ you promised back, and he tapped the roof of the cab before shutting the door and letting you go. You looked out the back window as you drove away, the both of you waving as he ducked back inside and out of the rain, and as soon as you turned back around to face forward you found yourself reaching for your wallet. His card was in your hands as you looked it over, all in all it was an uninspiring, plain business card, and you flipped it over to read what he wrote for the ticketmaster on the back.

Wait for me by the back entrance at 11:00 Phil will let you in JD

Your cheeks turned red again as you put the card away, the cab driver giving you a look in the rearview mirror as you held your nearly empty wallet, now with one business card, to your thumping chest. Oh yeah, it definitely was all worth it after all.

#Ray's Readers #david dastmalchian #jack delroy #jack delroy x reader #would you believe I wrote this over a few hours listening to a dramatic cover of Dear God cause I loved the vibes lmao #completely wrong vibes but it's SUCH a good cover guys #it's pretty tame for this one but yeah full disclosure there's probably gunna be lots of hands focus in my writings #his are Beautiful and Perfect and Very Attractive and I am W E A K okay

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celerydays · 1 year ago

Note

could you walk us through what notebooks & journals & pens /etc you use - they look so good!

I would be SO happy to, you have no idea!!

Alright, let's fucking GOOOO~

Starting off with my current "workhorse" pens - I have like *checks notes* 36 fountain pens and a bit too many inked up atm, but these are just the ones I'm currently reaching for or have inked up more often than not:

TWSBI Go (F): Kinda ugly! But also kinda cute! It's cheap and works great (I friggin love TWSBI pens tbh) and it has a little hole on the cap where you can attach a lanyard or charms, like I did! Makes it cuter imo and it's kind of my emotional support pen these days.

Opus88 Pocket (EF): This 2022 edition has a little Moon tarot design on the cap so it's pretty much the pen I use exclusively for my witchy/tarot practice journals! A lil bummed the cap doesn't post, especially since its a shorter pocket-sized pen, but not a deal breaker and I still love it.

Pilot Custom 823 (F): My grail pen that I've literally coveted for years and just recently acquired at the DC Pen Show this weekend! It's only been a day but I think it could potentially become my favorite pen. Ever.

Pilot Prera (CM): This is my third Prera lol. I just think they're great and really underrated pens! Also a recent acquisition from the DC Pen Show and this cursive M nib is suuuuper fun to write with.

Pilot Vanishing Point (EF): My favorite pen for planning! Super fine-tipped for writing task lists and schedules and love that it's so convenient/quick-draw with the click mechanism.

(I'm totally a Pilot pen ho, can you tell? asdjflaglsg)

Journals/Planners/Notebooks under cut–

Sterling Ink B6 Common Planner: For a good chunk of this year, I was in this planner because I honestly love the size and all the layouts. Super practical and flexible as a system. 10/10 would go back. I've used it to plan, as a reading journal, as a tarot log...

But I get the itch to move around so it's been sitting a little unused since like June, oop.

Leuchtturm A6: I started craving something tiny and minimal so I've been bullet journaling in this pocket notebook for the last month or two and I'm really enjoying it!

Standard-sized Tomoe River Paper notebook: This is pretty consistent in that I don't change up the system itself, but I'm in and out of it for memory keeping/scrapbook journaling! It's almost always a Tomoe River paper notebook of SOME kind that I usually buy in A5 size to go to FedEx and get it cut down to standard. Though I'm thinking of getting a blank Midori MD A5 to have cut down next time - I've been liking the freedom of blank pages for journaling instead of anything lined or gridded.

I really need to catch up with it tbh, but I love sitting in an explosion of printed photos, stickers, and washi and going ham with the pages.

(I do have a flip through of my January-March 2022 pages on YouTube)

Midori MD Cotton B6 Slim: I also have this sketchbook that sorta turned into a visual sketch diary of sorts. I fell off a while ago but want to get back into it because it's super fun to work in and to look back on!

Wide-sized Cosmo Air Light notebook & A5 Filofax Malden: These are my tarot/witchy journals. Grimoires I guess? One is for journaling and all my messier notes while the other is more for reference and ease of organization.

A5 Leuchtturm: I didn't know if I should include this guy, but I've been writing it in a lot recently so I guess I will lol. This is like truuuly a miscellaneous™ notebook.

I got this A5 notebook back in 2017 to use as my very first bullet journal, then found out that this size is personally waaaay too big for me to use as a bullet journal so I hopped off of it pretty quick. It now sits on my desk because since it's mostly blank I'll just pick it up to use it to write literally A N Y T H I N G.

Most recently, I wrote like 5 pages in one night on notes for a fanfiction piece I was working on (I'm not a writer, this fic is never gonna see the light of day by anyone but me lololol. Hyperfixation is so wild; I've put 80k+ words within just 10 days into it so far and it's been hella therapeutic.)

That's all, I think!?

It's funny because I actually have a NEW notebook arriving tomorrow that I'm going to try out as a bujo/commonplace/omni journal of sorts?? I might write an update post after I've set that up and see how I like it <3

#journal #journaling #bullet journal #memory keeping #notebooks #fountain pen #grimoire #sketchbook #commonplace book #tarot journal #cel journals #anon #ask #celerydays

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wishing-on-a-staranise · 5 months ago

Text

pt. 1: Manic pixie dream girl

(s.h. x desi!fem!reader)

warning/tags: use of (y/n), she/her pronouns used, based in 2010s, mention of cheating, bad parents, arguments, alcohol, mention of homophobia, toilet jokes (literally. i apologize), everybody is atleast a lil bicurious (except robin ofc)

a/n: and it starts!! i know i rreally kept yall waiting on this one and i probs will continue to do so (oops) im just out here trying to teach yall about delayed gratification lol soz

this fic went in crack fic territory for a bit of this chapter (yes the toilet museum is an actual place) i swear i don't know why my fics end up having potty humour sometimes I'm sorry

word count: 6.3k

series masterlist

masterlist

…

[Challa]

The last time Steve Harrington went on a vacation was with his parents when he was thirteen.

When he turned fourteen, his dad told him to focus more on school and sports and stopped bringing him around.

And sure, maybe it was also because during that past vacation, Stanley Harrington was found with screwing around with his secretary by his wife. Steve didn't remember much of it; he was hiding in the other room when the shouting began. Thankfully the walls muffled most of it.

it was after that vacation, things changed, Steve finally started to see through the cracks in the image his family always put up– the picture-perfect family. The well manufactured family photos hanging throughout his empty house tried their best to hide everything ugly. He started to see how in the photographs, his dad refused to stand closer to his mom, how his mom didn’t smile.

The expression on his father’s face that closely resembles a scowl, as if he was forced to take a picture with a business partner and not his own wife and son. The expensive dress his mom wore along with her makeup done perfectly. The grey bags under both their eyes.

Finally, himself– hair shorter than it is now because his dad always told him a real man never lets it grow past his ears, all slicked down and brushed aside, his expensive suit that made him better dressed than any other thirteen year old in town and his teeth stretched in what his mom called his ‘million dollar smile’.

It was after that vacation, that his mom stopped trusting his dad, and Steve didn't blame her– he stopped trusting him too. from that point on, Steve's mom would always go with his dad for his business trips. He tried not to think about if his dad ever saw that girl again.

Things changed. His mom, who had always loved gardening, hired a guy to take care of the flowers instead. the flowers were never as bright as they were when she used to take care of them. And sure, she had always liked wine, but now, Steve couldn't recall when he didn't see her with a bottle next to her or with the twig of wine glass twisting between her fingers.

Things changed. They are tired now, both of them.

So yeah, he didn't have the fondest memories of vacations.

But when his two best friends, Robin Buckley, and Eddie Munson suggested a trip before the latter leaves for a band tour he had managed to land, Robin gets into her new college and he himself gets ready for his dad's work– Steve just couldn't say no.

Currently they were in a random shop of the airport. Steve's legs are stiff from the long flight, same with his neck. if it was socially acceptable to lie like a puddle between the aisles of a store in an airport, he would do it.

“Robs, how long is this going to take?” Steve asks.

she ignores them as she cards through travel brochures and books, her back to the two boys. Steve adjusts his hold on the heavy basket, the thing filled to the brim with random snacks and some alcohol because the in-flight meal really was not it, plastic of the handle digging into his palm.

“Just pick one and let's check out already.”

“No.”

Steve once again readjusts his hold on the basket, hoping that the robin's crankiness is because of the long flight and not because she is still mad at him, “why?”

“Because someone has to plan where we are going to go. And neither of you two are too keen on it–”

"Don't drag me into this Buckley-" Robin shoots eddie a stern glare before he could even finish his sentence. He clears his throat before excusing himself from the aisle. The wheels of the suitcase he carried squeak behind him as they roll over the clean tiles of the airport.

Steve sighs– yep, she was still mad at him, “Robs..”, he trails off, hoping she spares him a glance. when she doesn't and instead continues to flip through the glossy pages of the thin book, he speaks up, “Hey, Robin.”

He hears her sigh. “Here", She tosses the books in the basket he had been holding and makes a beeline towards the cashier without sparing him a single look, "let’s just go.”

…

[Ek akela is sheher mein]

The sky is in this inbetween of day and evening with grey clouds above them while they load their luggage into the cab.

Eddie sits upfront, his frizzy hair now in a bun. Steve sits in the back with Robin, hoping to strike up conversation with her but the pair of headphones over her ears don't let him do so. Steve sighs, he can tell that she isn't listening to music, but they make it pretty clear she doesn't want to have a conversation.

The windows are cranked open, they have dried up water streaks– it might have rained not too long ago. The asphalt is glistening, reflecting the yellow streetlamps and the red taillights. The cab driver drives like Eddie– a bit too fast for Steve’s liking. Tires splash murky rainwater into little mesmerizing sprays when bikers drive through the puddles, surely wetting some of the passersby with the dirty water. Steve doesn't think of the dirty laundry those people would have to do though, or the showers those people have to take. Instead, he focuses on the sound the water creates, ringing against the metal of the underside of the car, a satisfying sound.

The cab driver takes so many turns, Steve lost count after the third one. A song plays on the radio, an old song, he can tell by the static and that accompanies the singer, the crackle at the beginning of the song. He doesn't know what the man sings in the song, it is quiet with its percussion, delicate with the strings. Steve catches Eddie absentmindedly tapping his fingers on his knee.

Steve looks over the console, it reads 106.4 FM. They're stuck in traffic when the song fades off. two voices come on, who Steve assumes are the hosts. They talk amongst themselves, joke, laugh, yet they speak with a perfect cadence that makes him think they've done it for ages. By the time the traffic gets moving, another song starts playing, this one more chipper than the last one.

The driver weaves through the crowd, making sure to use his horn more than is necessary. when he turns into a lane, Its a tight fit, the car and the road, yet somehow, he manages to maneuver the vehicle around the lamp post and random wrongly parked bikes.

The entire time they are checking into the hotel, Robin stands separately, flipping through the magazines near the sofa of the waiting area. Steve and Eddie fill in details and she only speaks up when asked for an id card. The staff helps them take their luggage to their rooms. Robin wordlessly goes into her room.

It is when Steve is taking off his shoes, Eddie jests, "what a scene ain't it Harrington?" Looking up, Steve finds the older boy holding the curtains wide open, the window faces a brick wall, despite being promised a good view. Steve doesn't say anything, he breathes out what can only be described as a half-hearted chuckle.

“What do I say to her?" Steve asks, running his hands over his face.

“Don’t ask me,” Eddie shakes his head before hanging his jacket inside the closet, “it's you two who have the whole platonic soulmate shit going on, I'm just a third wheel over here”, he mumbles rather dryly, heading towards the bathroom, the door closing behind him.

...

Robin's room was right in front of theirs-- room 105. Steve knocks on the wood. The door swings open after a few seconds, and there is Robin in comfier clothes, makeup taken off and a deep furrow between her brows, “hey.”

“You plan on being mad at me for all of this vacation?”

“...No, but you make it really easy”, she rolls her eyes opening the door a bit more so he could come in.

“Yeah… I’m sorry”, he apologises with a small grin as he slips in.

“I know dingus”, she chuckles a little, closing the door.

he looks around the room, “Dude, this room is so much better”, this was definitely more spacious than the one he and Eddie were in, “Or maybe that’s ‘cause mine has Eddie in it.”

She holds up the bottle of vodka they had picked up at the store earlier, “don't mind if I do”, Steve makes grabby hands at the bottle, grinning when she passes it to him. He twists open the cap and pours it into the glasses she holds up that already had some water in them.

the corners of her lips curl up as well, “mine has somewhat of a balcony too”, she tells him, handing him his glass.

“dude, what?”, his eyes widen. and when he walks over, pulling the curtains aside he is met with the glimmering city skyline, “our window faces a brick wall”

she laughs before sliding the glass door open. stepping forward, the balcony is small– the railing a mere two steps past the threshold of the sliding glass door. Robin leans, her elbows resting on the cool metal railing and Steve wipes away some of the rain droplets with his palm before following suit.

Despite it being around 9 pm, looking at the skyline it seems the city of Delhi never sleeps. there's a faint buzz of upbeat music playing somewhere close– there must be a club nearby. or a wedding.

“We should go clubbing tomorrow”, Robin suggests, raising her glass up in the air towards him.

he hums while raising his own. glasses clink, “sure thing, partner” he says before he downs the entire thing, face scrunching at the burning taste on his tongue.

Robin sips some of her own, her gaze moving down to the road below. There is a litter of puppies chasing each other around the empty street, the warm yellow light of the lamp post filtering over them. an older dog sits by the street light, watching over them. it's quieter than what the rest of the town seems like, hushed, calmer than the rush they had met on their way here.

Steve frowns at his already empty glass and goes back in the room to retrieve the bottle, pouring himself some more on the way back to the balcony, “shouldn't we offer some to Eddie?--”

“we need to talk”, she interrupts him.

they both pause as he gulps a bit of his drink before saying, "well, we are aren't we?"

"no, like talk-talk"

“ok”, he nods once before his brows meet in confusion, “about..?”

"you said it yourself, I can't be mad at you the entire time we're here."

“Robs, it's okay–”

“I think it's pretty obvious I don't like you going for that job.”

“mhm, yeah, you've communicated that well enough.”

"exactly! and you still can't get it through your thick skull"

"what exactly?"

“you don't want that job steve! I know you. you don't like that kind of job and I don't want you to do this thing just because your dad is pushing you to do it”, her grip on her glass tightens, “it's-- it's stupid. thats a stupid thing to do.”

“it's not stupid Robin–”

“i want you to do a job that makes you happy, finance doesn't make you happy”

“believe it or not robs, working at scoops also didn't make me all that happy, working with my best friend did. and you'll be moving out to chicago”

"if I get in", steve takes offence to how quickly she shuts down that possibility.

"you will. I know you don't believe it Robs, but you'll get that college you wanted and then you'll move out. and Eddie is doing all these gigs, trust me", he turns to her, silently begging for her to look him in his eyes, "me going for this job is the best option, Robin." When her eyes stay trained on the street below, he sighs before looking back up at the sky-- no stars in sight. "and you're right, it's not a job I want. but I do need it. and if my asshole dad is still willing to help my sorry ass then I should seize it right?"

he glances back at her, he doesn't get a response from her, yet Steve looks at her with furrowed brows, begging for her to agree.

two of the puppies wrestle amongst themselves, it's all high pitched barks and rolling around, dirtying their fur in the process.

its quiet for a while, he sips his remaining drink. for a while its just that ambiance, the muffled city noise, dogs barking, the hum of air conditioners.

"dude, you're going to become a finance bro", Steve finally hears her say, "then I'll be best friends with a finance bro, ew", she scrunches her face the way he knows it's mostly playful, a laugh falling from her lips by the end of the sentence.

I want you to do a job that makes you happy.

I want you happy.

he laughs too, breathy. he readjusts his grip on his glass, leaning against the rails next to her. “I'm gonna save up, robs”, he promises looking her right in the eyes-- its hard to see the blue in them in this dark, “and if everything works out we can just get an apartment in Chicago then we can be roommates?”

she looks back at him, brows shooting up, “...you promise?”

“pinky.”

she gulps before taking another sip from the glass in her hand, “I don't wanna lose more people steve”, she says, her thumb wiping the condensation on the glass in her hand, and he can tell she's trying her darndest to not let her voice crack.

her parents hadn't taken kindly to her coming out. she hadn't even meant to come out. Vickie's ex boyfriend had outed both of them to their parents– it had been a mess.

whenever she'd tried to call her parents, as soon as they'd realise that it was her, the line would cut off. Once they recognised that she'd always call from either Steve's or Nancy's, they stopped picking up altogether.

it's been months.

“you won't ever lose me Robs”, he immediately says because there is no doubt in it, meaning it more than anything else.

She leans her head on his shoulder, letting in a deep breath, and somehow Steve just knows it means ‘I love you, dingus’

He wraps an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder ‘love you too birdie’.

Silence takes over, but it isn't all that much quiet, the puppies bark, their feet splashing against the little puddle they are playing around now. The two who had been fighting are licking each other. The faint music is still present, cars still honking away in the heart of the city– people honk a lot here. It's all faint but there.

“So", he takes in a deep breath, "you plan where we're going yet?”

Robin takes her head off his shoulder before clearing her throat, “yeah, a bit–", she takes a sip of the forgotten drink in her hold, "there's just so much– there's too much honestly. maybe we get a guide but like those are expensive aren't they? I don't know, maybe they aren't–"

"Robs slow down"

"Okay, okay uh... I have a couple places down", she walks back into the room, picks up the book she had gotten earlier and hands it to him. Flipping through the glossy pages, Steve sees a few monuments and tourist attractions are marked by a pen, Steve is sure he can't pronounce most of these names.

“Oh, did you know they have a toilet museum here?” Robin speaks up after some time.

“wh–”

“before you say it, yes I'm being serious, they have a toilet museum, and were going there”

“seriously? they have historical buildings, monuments, tombs and shit and you wanna see a toilet museum?”

"we'll go to those places too but I also wanna see a toilet museum"

"why?"

"so I can find a place for you and Eddie to live."

“thanks", he deadpans.

They discuss and talk through their plans for the next day. its after midnight when Steve says his goodnight, the bottle of remaining vodka in his hand. for Eddie of course.

“Night Steve, kiss Eddie goodnight for me!”

“shut up.”

….

Despite having zero concrete plans, Steve, Robin and Eddie were definitely behind on their schedule. Sleeping in too late made them miss their free complementary breakfast that the hotel offered.

Steve was so hungry that he would eat Eddie if it was morally and ethically an okay thing to do.

They instead had to order the hotel food which took way too goddamn long to come. Thankfully, when they were done, the hotel manager offered them a guide and a cab to show them around.

The guide was fluent in english, talking about the history of the places he took them. Qutb minar, Jama Masjid, Swaminarayan Akshardham, Humayun's tomb, india gate, lotus temple, All historical places and important monuments. And as beautiful as they were, all the information sort of muddled together for Steve. although incredibly knowledgeable, the guide was going a bit too fast for him.

when the tour for the day was nearing an end, Robin bought up the toilet museum. If the man wasn't getting paid such a good amount, he wouldn’t have bothered to even hide his judgement like he did.

...

“That one looks like a confession booth”, Eddie points to the wooden seat that looked to be from the olden times, and much to his credit, the description was in fact apt.

“That one just looks like a bird-bath!” Robin points to the one in question and once again the description was accurate.

“This one is just a glorified flower pot.”

“Is it really glorified though?”

“Do you think… they'll let us sit on it? I wanna sit on the confession booth one”

“.. I dont know robin, why dont you ask them.”

“Please, do not touch them”, the guide interrupts them immediately.

“Dude, that one looks like a therapist's chair!” robin skips towards the toilet seat in question, having the time of her life. The other two follow behind. Steve looked around at the multitude of posters hung on the walls– who knew toilets would have such rich history. Along with informative posters, the walls were also covered in comic strips related to poop– toilet humor at its finest, truly.

Steve takes a big gulp from the water bottle Robin had made to hold. just when he is doing so, he feels someone bump into his shoulder, some of the water spilling onto his shirt from the action.

"oh shit, I'm so sorry!" you apologise with wide eyes.

a "sorry" falls from Steve's lips as well even though he didn't do anything.

Your wide eyes morph into a shy smile, “oh shit", you mumble, giggles erupting from your throat before you even know it, "You know ‘cause– uh.. Shit", you try to explain, gesturing around you.

“Oh, yeah, yeah I get it”

“Sorry, by the way”

“Its okay. I wasn't looking”, you smile a little shyly when he shakes his head, “I was just looking at… all this”, he pointing his thumb in the general direction of the wall. You hum through a small laugh "I mean who would even think of a toilet based museum?"

“maybe it's a dig at how the British took everything else so…."

"holy shit, that's an interesting way to look at it"

"yeah, pretty sure it's not true but that's how I choose to look at it"

“I– I’m sorry, I didn't quite catch your name–”

“Hey, Steve!” he stops midway when he hears his name from across the hall, voice belonging to Robin.

“Sorry, I have to go, I've been here for hours,” you start walking past him, glancing at your watch, “Fun meeting you, Steve.”

"Who was that girl?" is the first thing Robin asks when Steve finally walks over to them.

He shrugs, "the hell am I supposed to know?"

"So you talked to her for like half an hour and you don't know?"

"It wasn't that long, Munson."

"it felt that long, especially considering the second hand embarrassment I felt from way over there."

He rolls his eyes, unscrewing his abandoned water bottle and taking a swig from it while walking ahead.

“Hey dingus, quit being sulky.”

“I'm not being sulky”

“Yeah, you are. I mean, what were you expecting Harrington? a meet-cute?”

“no, dude. I was just trying to talk to someone normal”

“I know the urges are there harrington”, Robin starts, making Steve scrunch up his nose at her choice of words, “its been months since the break up– I get it. There's a time and place for everything. This was not it.”

“Oh my god”, Steve mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Give poor Harrington a break Robin”, Eddie’s hand claps the boy's shoulder, speaking with a kind cadence– one too kind for Edward Munson, “maybe he hasn't moved on, didn't he say that she was the one?”

“The one? Doesn't our hopeless romantic say that about every girl? Even me, at one point– if I remember correctly?”

“God, you're never gonna let me live that down are you?”

“No.”

“Okay, stop”, Steve holds up his hands, “I wasn't doing anything. she just bumped into me and… small talk happened, that's it. end of story. and I'm not being sulky or anything. and yes I am very much over the break up, it happened months ago. So can you both stop bringing it up all the time?”

Robin and Eddie share a look, “..sure.”

…

Eddie and Robin had already collected back the room keys, and already left for their respective rooms. Crowning Steve with the responsibility of handling the finances with the tour guide. It is when Steve is paying the guide, the glass door opens. And when Steve glances over, he is met with your face. He can't help the smile that creeps onto his face.

You haven't noticed him yet, instead walking straight towards the counter. "Room 111”, he hears you say while he tries to hand the money to the guide as quickly as possible.

The guide nods, thanking him with a smile. The key clink when the manager puts it on the counter, Steve is there and the words come out of his mouth before he even knows it. “Toilet museum girl?”

Your head snaps towards him, features morphing into what can only be described as disgust. There is a flash of recognition before you say, “uh… what the fuck did you just call me?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just– we just keep running into each other, don't we?”

A smirk comes onto your face, you swipe up the keys from the counter before you start moving towards the elevators, “That we do. Are you stalking me?”

“uh, not intentionally, no", he clarifies, following behind you.

You give him a look, "uh huh."

"I know it looks bad but I swear it's happenstance"

The elevator button lights up beneath your finger when you press it, "Sure", you say in a tone that says you do not believe him at all.

"i swear I'm–"

"I already said ‘sure’", you deadpan, the doors ding open and the both of you step in. He sees the corners of your mouth curl up when you move to press the button for the floor you both were on, Steve couldn't help but smile too.

"yeah but the way you said it... said otherwise"

"what? what way?" your brows pull together, voice with the same sarcastic lilt.

"you're doing it again, toilet girl."

"Here's a deal steve, don't call me anything toilet museum related and I'll stop using that tone."

"deal. but... what should I call you then?", he asks, shoving his hands in his jean pockets– trying to take a confident pose, "I could call you by your name... but you won't tell me"

"have you heard of stranger danger Steve?", You cross your arms, turning towards him, "what if I was a serial killer who only murders in small suffocating elevators?"

The elevator dings again, the door opening on their own accord, "then it's a good thing we're here already!", he says, gesturing for you to step out, "and we aren't really strangers--"

"we are."

"Well, we can change that, can't we?", you stop at your room number. you don't answer, but Steve is sure he heard you hum under the rattle of your keys.

When the lock clicks open, he speaks up, “Hey, uh... what're you doing tonight?”

You turn around, “... uh, Sleep probably”, there’s that tone again.

“No, princess”, he mimics your sarcastic tone but the nickname comes out before he even knows, “before that.”

Your eyes narrow, maybe at the tone, maybe at the nickname, “Nothing, I'll probably rot in bed or something”

“You're alone?”

“Does it matter?” you counter immediately.

“Well we’re going to a club nearby, you can tag along? and if you're with someone you can bring them along too?"

"Why must I? You could be an international axe murderer"

“You think such a handsome, pretty face could ever murder?”

“And what if I say I don't do alcohol?”

“Then you can be our designated driver?”

“Yeah, no”, you sigh, the door knob twisting in your hand.

“Okay, well if you change your mind– it's the club right down the road.”

“Have fun with your friends”, is all you say before disappearing behind the door. And Steve is left behind, staring at the wood, the number 111 mocking him.

God, what the fuck was he thinking?

…

The next morning, they thankfully wake up on time despite being definitely and awfully hungover. So here Steve was, with his messy bed hair and sleep mussed eyes, standing in line for the toaster, with a plate in his hand.

Steve blinks slowly as the queue moves, the air smells like coffee, warm toast, and waffles. He can smell spices too, probably from the dishes which he had never had before or heard the name of. And as much as Steve loves trying out new dishes, a hangover is not a good time to experiment with his taste buds so he thinks he’ll have to chew on toast and wash it down with mediocre coffee this morning.

The line moves forward again, he feels something brush against his back but he chalks it up as an accident and ignores it. He turns when he feels a finger poking into his shoulder and it's you. “Hi”, you smile up at him, you're wearing jeans and a pink embroidered top. Your hair is untied, tucked behind your ears and a little damp.

His free hand immediately flies up to his hair, fingers running through the messy strands to make it look a little more presentable, “uh, hi”, palm smoothes over his wrinkly t-shirt.

“Is.. is that your friend?” you say pointing to Eddie who was standing over at the waffle machine, pouring some honey on his stack.

“Yeah, yeah that's Eddie”

“Oh, makes sense”, you say, met with confusion written on Steve's face, “He kept trying to strike up a conversation. Also his waffles are a little burnt– I wouldn't share if I were you.” Steve laughs at that, fingers still trying to tame his wild mess of hair, “So, I see you had fun at that club last night”

“That obvious?”

“Very.”

"Where are you planning on going today?", you ask.

"not sure, Robin is deciding right now probably"

“Robin..?”

“Oh, she’s over there”, he points to his best-friend who was sitting at an empty table, coffee already in hand, flipping through pages of a book.

"you three really didn't plan any of this huh?"

"no, not really."

…

"so you're telling me you're travelling by car and barely trying any street food. jail. jail time to all of you", you were sitting with Steve and his friends now.

"how the hell were we supposed to know? the guide didn't tell us"

"what was the poor guy supposed to do? you can't see so much in just a couple days"

"but there's just so much", you hear Robin speak up for the first time.

"yeah! and you have to accept that you can't see everything, no matter what you do, you're always going to miss something. so shorten this list of yours. and the things you do see, take your time with them. or you'll forget them."

“Ok bud, then where should we go?”

"well if you want to you can go to the red fort, then chandni chowk and then Hazrat Nizamuddin dargah? Its thursday so it’ll be absolutely packed"

"Okay. Will we find you there?"

"I hope not." you say non-chalantly while sipping your chai.

"maybe– maybe we can all go together?" Steve suggests with raised eyebrows. you make an unconvinced noise at the offer. "Still on the fence about the axe murderer thing?"

"Always."

…

Steve wasnt sure how, but he had managed to convince you to come along with them. He sat infront of you in the auto rikshaw, your hair had dried by the time you reached your first destination.

The tour around red fort ended rather quickly than he had anticipated, before you pulled them all to chandni chowk.

your hair was now tied up, some of the baby strands sticking to the back of your neck. you looked like you felt right at home, skipping from one shop to another. stopping for some delectable street food every now and then.

you were all enjoying a sweet syrupy jalebi when you called for Robin's name, “Do you like wearing earrings?” you ask.

the girl looks at you, a little hesitant when she answers, “Uh.. someti–”

“Here! This one would look great on you”, you say holding up a pair of glimmering silver and blue earrings. "do you like it?"

"I- um, I do", you grin at that.

steve wasn't where the time flew, but they were already headed to your next destination on your list with bags of little things he, Eddie and Robin bought.

...

[kun Faya kun]

It felt weird to be barefoot, you had given all the shoes to a man by a store. Where the four of you stood now, the street looked breathtaking. Small shops, some selling flowers and incense, some selling religious blankets that you had called chaddars, others selling attar, and so on and so forth. The bright greens, reds, blues and oranges of the chaddars illuminated by the warm lights of the shops looked akin to a canopy of swirling colours.

Currently, you were helping Robin put on a scarf you had gotten earlier from a shop in Chandni chowk over her head, just the way that you had. When you were done, you instructed the two boys to cover their heads as well. When you were met with confused looks from the two of them, you clicked your tongue before covering their head with their handkerchief and tying it behind their head.

The man at the store then handed you a few plates with flowers, incense and a few threads, “what are those for?” he asks, pointing at the threads.

“You make a wish with them”, his brows scrunch up together, “come on, I'll explain”, you say, grabbing him by his wrist.

…

“You see these walls? people come from all over, they tie a thread”, you say pointing to a man who was tying the red string into the lattice of the wall. the entire wall had such threads tied to them-- all little prayers and wishes made by someone out there. so many people want something. “and they make a mannat. you tie a thread and make a wish. it's like you're asking for a favour.”

“so I ask for whatever I want?”

“whatever you want", you echoed with a smile before pointing to where a lot of men were by the wall, “you boys do it over there, me and Robin are going there– it's reserved for women".

When Steve is looping the thread through the hole, he does so mindlessly, and only when he is about to tighten the knot does he stop to wonder… what exactly is he wishing for? what the hell does he want?

He looks over at Eddie, who already has his temple leaning against the wall, his eyes closed. Steve wonders what he asked for. he thinks he has a hunch.

Without even thinking, his eyes start searching for robin. he sees you help her tie it before the girl leans her head against the wall too. Steve knows full well what she wants.

And then he sees you, you hesitate while looping the thread. you hesitate when tie the first knot. you hesitate for the second. even from this far away, he could see the hesitation in your eyes before you close them.

He blinks and his gaze snaps back to his own thread, the knot still not tightened. His fingers move on their own when he ties the first one.

what does he want?

He twists the red thread, looping the long end through the loop.

what does he want?

And when he ties the last knot, it echoes in his brain, “what do I want?”

…

The group of men sing at the top of their lungs– their voices carrying experience, a roughness that only years of singing can bring. Eddie explains to Steve that the instrument the man was playing was called a harmonium and a dholak.

“how do you know that?”

“I know a lot, Harrington”, he chuckles when he says it.

Steve glances to where you and Robin are sitting among the other women. and despite being surrounded by such a huge crowd, he can tell Robin is calm which he is glad of. He sees you; you're looking at Robin with an expression he can't quite read, and when she glances your way, you quickly flash her a smile before reverting your eyes back to the singing men.

Its awkward, he can tell that much from afar. He thinks Robin is a little nervous around you, maybe finds you attractive with how little she makes eye contact with you, and how everytime you had said anything to her, it was answered in merely a couple words. He can't make sense of your behaviour though, or the way you look at her a little forlorn. he thinks maybe you're hurt by how unwilling Robin might seem to talk to you despite your constant attempts.

[Aaj jaane ki zid na karo]

You all had come back to the hotel an hour or two ago. As soon as you all had arrived, you had left for your room, something about a call you had to make. And now after taking a bit of a rest, they were getting ready to spend whats left of the night at the club they went to last night.

Steve had his fingers crossed, planning on inviting you with them, hoping to god that you agree because he had fun. a lot more than he would like to admit to you or even his friends.

They're all in Steve's and Eddie's room. Robin all ready, sitting on the edge of his bed. Eddie is tying his shoes, his hair already up, his favourite rings on his digits.

Steve himself was trying to get his hair right, despite how much he had styled his thick strands at the start of the day, they were a little flattened now after the day. after he put some pomade on and his hair was just the way he wanted it, he sprayed on his cologne. just when he was contemplating whether to take his ray-bans with him or not, there was a knock on the door.

Eddie who had been putting on his jacket, was the closest to the door. when he clicked open the door, he was met with your face.

"Hi", you say with a smile before noticing that they're all getting ready to go somewhere. "what're you guys getting dolled up for?"

"We were just going to the club nearby--"

"d'you wanna come with?" Steve offers immediately, walking closer.

"um.. I– I can't..", you mumble apologetically, fingers fidgeting, “I just came here because I wanted to say that I had a lot of fun. And uh, all that.”

"So did we”, Eddie says.

"I just wanted to meet you guys before… leaving"

Steve’s face falls a little, “What do you mean?”

“I'm heading out around 2 am. I have a flight at 4. I'm going south after this."

“Oh.”

Its silent. Nobody says anything, what could they say anyway, you were still technically a stranger– they didnt even know your name yet. You hid your hands behind yourself, perhaps picking at your cuticles. Your eyes flitting between all three of them, “I didn't just want to leave so…”, you lift your arms, Eddie who was the closest, hugged you first. Then you moved to Robin, not giving her a second to say anything, you wrap your arms around her shoulders. After maybe a second, she wraps her arms around you too, patting your back a little awkwardly. When you pull away, her face is a little red. You offer her a smile and she finally returns a rather timid one herself.

Your eyes meet Steve’s, you walk over, he moves closer as well. And when you are face to face, you smile up at him. There's a light in your eyes, subdued but there. And from up this close, he thinks you can see it all, all of him. All his doubts, his insecurities, anxieties. Yet you're smiling up at him.

You rock him a little when you hug him, taking him off his balance. He envelops you in his hold, squeezing tighter than he thought he would. "I really had fun”, his eyes close on their own accord when he feels your warm breath on his neck, when he feels your smile on his skin.

“My name is y/n by the way."

Steve pulls away just a little, eyes trained on yours, "can’t you come with us before leaving? It won't take too long."

"Steve...", you start, voice all soft and apologetic.

"No, its okay", he shakes his head before smiling.

You return a smile back before looping your arms around his neck once again, "I'm glad we met Steve."

"me too."

You pull back, looking him in the eyes, you whisper, "goodbye."

"anyway… Um–”, you clear your throat, Steve's hold loosening on you and you remove your arms from around him as well, stepping away. You stiffly walk towards the door, stopping at the threshold, the knob in your grasp, “you guys have fun! don't get robbed or scammed or whatever. Bye." you gave them one last sheepish smile before closing the door.

...

Prayers entwined into the thread of us all

mine was empty

I lied to the strangers I met, free as wind

she reminded me of her

Its not like we’ll meet again, I'll be loud and cheap

she doesn't look at me just like she did

I’ll hug them goodbye, I’ll be a mystery.

...

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x desi!reader #desi!fem!reader #stranger things au #stranger things fic #desi!reader #steve harrington fluff

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thomthomp · 2 months ago

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TADC Jax Cosplay Process and Con Experience !

Hello !! Thought I'd post a little journal/process thing for a Jax cosplay I've done recently! I wouldn't call this a step-by-step tutorial as many of this was trial and error, along with much improvisation (I also didnt plan on doing this so there are few actual process images haha). This was a lot of fun and I hope someone can get something out of this !

MAKING THE OVERALLS

So as this was my first time sewing anything, a couple blunders were made. First I definitely shoulda bought this fabric a metre longer than i did. As a result after cutting it in half to create the two sides, I realised it was gonna be way too short going up the chest. So after sewing the two sides together I ended up with some oversized clown pants, that also happened to be super skinny in the legs as I may have eyballed cutting the inseam lol. Drop crotch realness was in full effect.

I followed this tutorial on how to make the base of my overalls, her very "eh, let's go for it" attitude was massively helpful in making this first sewing attempt less daunting

youtube

So...with limited fabric and with no immediate desire to buy another metre from Hobbycraft, I knew there was only one thing to do...

And that was slapping some leftover scrap on top lol. After that all I had to do was sew the straps on both sides and I had some (just about) wearable, non-adjustable overalls ! The colour is different as I had dyed it in Rit Dyemore super pink after sewing.

Now because I was adding this extra scrap on top after sewing the base, I wasnt able to do flat measurements to see if this scrap would actually go all the way around. Rather than taking more time to properly pin the two parts together and getting a proper look. My impatient brain said %$!# no and just pinned parts of it as i sewed, making it less finicky, but not realising that the scrap was too short. Luckily, pulling that empty space together and sewing it resulted in a fit that was almost perfect for my body, as i wanted it to be form fitting anyway. So remember kids, being impatient works out every time :)

The last details I had to do (other than hot glueing some yellow foam buttons to the straps) was add the chest patch and inside leg sleeves at the bottom. Using the original colour fabric was perfect for these two parts (I swear it looks pinker irl). For the chest patch I just folded some scrap together and top stiched around the edges, leaving the top edge open as convenient phone/card storage for Con. I didn't trust myself to not bind the back and front of the overalls together while sewing it on, so I just used hot glue and slapped in on there. The leg sleeves were even easier, sewing some more scrap around then binding the exposed edges with hot glue.

MAKING THE HEAD

So I had no idea how the head was gonna turn out, my only cosplay head experience prior was my first attempt at Jax last October of which I used painted foam card. Minecraft lookin ass

I knew going in that I wanted to do it fursuit head style, starting with a foam bucket helmet and hot glueing extra foam to the sides to create the skeleton of the head. Goated foam head tutorial by Skyehigh Studios was used for this

youtube

Attaching some half moon foam cut outs to each side of the head, doubling them up for stronger support, then adding some shorter half moons next to each eye hole, I was able to get the oval shape that jax has going on.

I measured around the head between the two half moon cuts on each side, then hot glued two pieces of fleece fabric on the front and back. For UK peeps I'd reccommend poundfabrics.co.uk, really affordable and arrived super quick, which was good since i left buying the fleece about a week before con (oops)

Now here's where I probably shoulda done more pre-measurements and sewed the top part of the fleece on with the side parts, so I could simply slip the thing on the foam skeleton like a beanie. Well, caveman brain got the better of me and just hot glued the underside of the fleece parts together. It was uneven, several holes remained and I burned my fingers, but gosh darn was that there three fleece patches glued together on them there.

Finally, at 2am the night before con I added the ears. I was initially concerned as I had underestimated how the weight of the foam would react to flopping around on the head, which made for some vry droopy ears. To make em more straight, but still keep the flop, I stuck some large cocktail sticks I had lying around about half way up the ears. This still allowed for flop behaviour, but stayed mostly upright while wearing them. After wrapping the fleece around and hotglueing them down in two gaps I had made, the head was officially done !

MAKING THE TOP

For my first time making a top, I followed this Youtube tutorial that went the most simple route I could find, taking one of my long sleeve tops, leaving about 1 cm seam allowance and cutting out two parts each for the top and sleeves.

So, as I was still getting used to using a sewing machine, I had managed to jam the needle multiple times when sewing together the base of the top, ruining almost all the spare needles I had. Upon viewing a tutorial on how not to jam your machine, I realised I had been doing the first three points she made, consistently lol. In the moment and since it was the last day, I didnt want to take risks and simply hotglued that bad boy down.

CON EXPERIENCE

So embarking to the first day of MCM London I immediately realised how awkward the overalls were gonna be to wear, I had to wear them as high and tight as i could otherwise it was gonna look like I had comically short legs. This meant that the thigh area was gonna be fairly uncomfortable when moving and would have to take the straps off and shift everything down if I wanted to sit. Aaaaaand about an hour into the first day, the enevitable rip occurred

Thankfully the rip was probably in the most inconspictuous place possible so i didn't really care lol. But any other fears of more rips, or the ears giving out in the wind were nonexistent with the great time I had meeting people. A big highlight was the very first person who came up to me who was actively looking for digital circus cosplays and HAD CUSTOM POKEMON CARDS THEY WERE GIVING OUT TO THEM.

So cute, made my day T_T, shoutouts to milskellyfox for the card. So yeah met a ton of cool people and everything held together for the whole 3 days, including the ears which I was most spooked about lol. Can't wait to start work on the next costumes for October's Comic-Con!

#tdac jax #jax #the amazing digital circus jax #tadc #cosplay #mcm comic con #mcm 2024 #the amazing digital circus #jax cosplay

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duendepika · 1 month ago

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EndHawks fics!

Putting together a post of my worksafe EndHawks fics for tumblr here. As it turns out, I don't have very many that are worksafe, so this list is a lot shorter than I expected it to be once I put it together. Oops.

Home Rating: T Summary: When Hawks does what he’s convinced is unforgivable, he flees to the only place he can think of. Endeavor’s running out of time to bring him home. Notes: Written as a prediction-fic for what would happen during and after the second war.

Divorce Papers Rating: T Summary: After the second war, the Todorokis plan their divorce. Endeavor finds the courage to come out to his family and tell them the truth about himself and Hawks. The reactions are unexpected. Notes: Told in the perspective of the six Todorokis (and Hawks).

Complicity Rating: T Summary: The HPSC President summons Endeavor to her office for an interrogation about his relationship with Hawks. In doing so, she is forced to reflect on her own complicated feelings towards the No. 2 Pro Hero.

What Else Did You Expect? Rating: T Summary: Endeavor suspects that Hawks is bugged, but he doesn’t consider how Hawks might interpret his demand to strip. Notes: One of my earliest drabbles. It's posted as the first part of a drabble collection, but I never ended up adding more (this is complete though).

This last one is not a ship fic by any means, but it does involve the two of them, so I'll go ahead and add it.

Lachesis Rating: G Summary: When stopping in Fukuoka for a Pro conference, Endeavor finds himself at the HPSC, where it is proposed that he adopt their newest hero-in-training because they think he would develop better within a family. Endeavor refuses at first, until he realizes how powerful the winged child's Quirk is. And so he brings 5-year-old Hawks back to Shizuoka with him to become Todoroki Keigo. Notes: On indefinite hiatus.

#mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha fic #bnha fic #endhawks #mha hawks #mha endeavor #takami keigo #todoroki enji #todofam #my fanfiction

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meowzilla93 · 7 months ago

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BaxterMCWeek Day 1: First Meeting

Happy Birthday my darling Monochromatic Man big thank you to @minthe-drawings for hosting this!!

o((>ω< ))o

Baxter was incredibly bored.

Traveling with his parents was always a chore but being stuck at the Cypress, being unable to dance or find a way to entertain himself made things even more so boring. Whilst his parents where busy ‘making connections’ they had banned him from dancing so that he couldn’t get into any trouble.

This of course just made him all the more restless and more likely to look for a way to get into trouble. He had spoken with a few of the other children there, much in the same position as him, being told to ‘rest’ and being quite bored of it.

Hearing the music come across the grounds, Baxter was more and more tempted to find a way to escape the eyes of his instructors and make his way over to where the music sang to him. As he was trying to be as nonchalant as possible, he slowly made his way towards the edge of the crowd, making sure not to draw any attention towards himself.

Biding his time, Baxter simply waited for an opportunity to sneak away undetected, that was until a head of copper hair caught his attention; One that was making its way towards him.

Baxter was certain he had never seen the person before, the striking hair and the pair of mismatched pair of green and gold eyes making a definite impression on him in that moment. Paired with a smile that showed off their teeth, he could swear that they almost looked like a fox that had gotten away with doing sly. He could certainly understand the feeling.

As they made their way closer to him, he noted that this fox was as pale as he was, but their skin was marked with a smattering of freckles, unlike their tanned companion who was attempting to catch his attention as they got closer,

“Hey, so, this might sound weird, but what are you guys all doing here?”

Bright verdant eyes looked up at him, and before he was able to answer the admittedly ‘weird’ question, their fox-like companion chuckled before poking them in the ribs,

“Really, that’s the question you’re gonna go with? After the whole ‘perhaps we walked into an alternate universe’ spiel just earlier?”

Baxter couldn’t help but chuckle at that remark, causing both pairs of eyes to train themselves back onto him. This whole interaction was taking a different course than he anticipated, and it wasn’t something he disliked at all. Allowing a coy smile to cross his face, he decided to play along with their little adventure,

“We’re visitors who are in this town for a dance circuit. This dining area is reserved for our group only tonight. What is going on with you?”

As the shorter of the two chuckled uncomfortably, scratching their cheek, the Fox, as Baxter had chosen to label them, snorted at the reaction; Verdant eyes narrowed at the Fox before starting their apologies,

“Oops. We didn’t know that. There’s a soiree happening on the other side of the club for members and their guests, that’s where we came from. Please don’t tell on us.”

That caught Baxter’s attention; Leaning forward, he became more intrigued with he pair with each passing moment,

“I thought I noticed something that way. It’s been bothering me the entire evening. I was planning to check when it got darker.”

“Why wait?”

Baxter wasn’t certain he heard right, but as verdant eyes matched his own in wideness, he realized he most certainly did. Turning his head back to the Fox, he couldn’t get a proper sentence out,

“I-sorry. What?”

Cocking an eyebrow at him, the Fox tilted their head at him, eyes sparkling with mischief,

“Why. Wait? Seems most of the adults here are busy. Come on! We will sneak you into our soiree! Doubt anyone will notice.”

Baxter wasn’t a stranger to getting himself into trouble or any amount of mischief, but these days that typically happened on his own. A stranger offering to help him sneak out of a boring event? That was certainly a first.

Eyes narrowing at the mischievous Fox in front of him, he couldn’t find it in himself to deny the offer. Taking a quick look around the area, he was confident that no one was paying attention to a trio of kids hovering at the edge of the crowd, he decided that if he were to take up this Fox on this offer, he had better do it now.

“Very well. Lead the way.”

The sly grin turning into a wide smile, Baxter knew he had made the right decision. What he was not expecting, is when the Fox nodded to their companion to quicky make their way back to their soiree, was a warm hand gripping onto his and pulling him along.

Allowing himself to get pulled along, Baxter didn’t even look back to see if anyone had seen him leave. His mind was focused on the person ahead of him, the one with the hair coloured of fallen leaves and a personality that certainly matched the moniker he had given them in his thoughts. He was finally able to take in what his Fox was wearing; A flowy dark green dress with golden accents stitched into it, paired with gold, kitten heeled shoes.

He really could help but think that they belong in a forest, every part of their aesthetic and personality convincing him further. Before he could muse any further about the person who’s hand still held onto his own, the music had started to grow louder and they had finally arrived at the event he was planning to sneak off to later in the evening.

A chuckle pulls him further from his thoughts as he turns and looks at his Fox, who wore a truly happy and satisfied smile; Eyes twinkling with mirth as they let go of his hand and instead swept their own out towards the crowd in front of them.

“Welcome! To our Summer Soiree!”

“Why thank you. I feel honoured to have been given a VIP pass to it.”

Baxter teased, but before he could say anything further, his Fox’s companion was trying to catch their attention.

“Aug, hang on where are –“

Their tanned companion had a worried look on his face as he searched the crowd, and Baxter considered this his time to bow out from their adventure and start on his own.

“It looks like you are both busy. I appreciate the assistance in getting here, but I’ll be able to entertain myself from here.”

He tilts his head in goodbye and watches as crestfallen expression appears on his Fox’s face. He couldn’t deny that he wished he could spend a bit more time with them, but he knew when his presence was no longer needed, and knew how to make himself scarce.

“I -wait hang on.”

Turning their attention back to their companion, his Fox was speaking quickly and quietly, their companion clearly a touch agitated, but the Fox seemed to not be worried about a thing. Not wanting to disturb them further, he quietly stepped back and walked away, taking in the lights and ambiance of the Soiree that he had found himself at.

As he walked around, noting the similar foods, drinks and set up that they had; Nothing drastically different from where he came from, but he could tell the energy here was much happier. More enjoyable to be a part of. Unlike the cold and proper stiffness, he had to deal with at the events he typically has to attend. He found himself enjoying just experiencing the ambiance of the event, and soon he wanted to join in on it.

Making his way toward the dancefloor, he listened to the band slowly coming to the end of current song as he looked around for a potential partner he could enjoy a quick dance with before he had to find his way back to were his parents were no doubt going to start looking for him. His mind wandered to his Fox from earlier in the evening, silently wishing he could see them one last time before he disappeared; That was until he found them standing at the edge of the dancefloor, seemingly looking for a partner to dance with.

Rarely does fate give people the chance to get what they wish for, and Baxter wasn’t going to give up this chance. Walking up, he taps his Fox on the shoulder and as they turn to see who had tried to grab their attention, their face goes from questioning to ecstatic in quick succession.

“Hello! I wondered where you went off to!”

It warmed him to think that someone cared about him, someone who was basically a stranger to him, but it brought a genuine smile to his face. With a flick of his hand, he quickly explains himself,

“I do apologise. I didn’t want to take you away from your friend and you had done so much to just sneak me in already. I didn’t want to impose.”

He watches as his Fox cocks an eyebrow at him, clearly amused at the language he was using. He knew too well that he spoke more formally than most kids, but it was something he took in stride.

“Though, now that I have found you this time round, may I ask; Are planning on dancing?”

“I am if I can find anyone to dance with me. My friend is off on a search and rescue mission, so I’ve been left on my own to find a new partner.”

Baxter would be lying if he said he wasn’t elated at hearing that, but he quickly squashed down any excited emotion and simply held out his hand towards his Fox,

“In that case, we should dance. It’s perfect timing, a new song is just about to start.”

“I think that would be quite fun. Plus at least this way, you won’t disappear as soon as I look away this time.”

The Fox teased him as they placed a hand in his. Without any further words, he simply gave her a wisp of a smile and walked out to the dancefloor. Once they had found a spot, he went into his proper form for dancing, and was pleasantly surprised when his partner had done the same.

The confident way his Fox settled into position, he would be hard pressed to imagine that they hadn’t had lessons in the past, and had been regularly training like he had. As the first notes of the song played through the night, Baxter took the lead in the dance, effortlessly guiding them both into the night. As he continued to guide his Fox across the dancefloor, he couldn’t help but be elated at the knowledge that he had a brilliant dancing partner, deftly matching his steps and competently keeping pace with the music.

Baxter was thoroughly enjoying himself in the company of his Fox, comfortably finding a rhythm with them as they dance. But as all good things do, it came to an end far too soon for his liking. As the music came to an end, he politely stepped back, releasing the warm hands of his fox, before taking a bow.

“Thank you for dancing with me, and for bringing me here tonight. It was truly a lovely experience.”

His Fox smiled ever so gently at him; He could feel the softness of their gaze as he straightened out.

As they were about to respond someone called out to them, catching their attention, though Baxter couldn’t make out what it was. With a disappointed look, they turned back to Baxter, their look having changed to a sad one, almost apologetic. Baxter could gather easily what that meant and so, made his excuses,

“It seems that I have now overstayed my welcome. Thank you once again for your kindness.”

As he turned to leave, he could see his Fox try to reach out to him, but stopped themselves before it was too obvious for anyone else to notice. But he did, and that mattered more than he cared to admit for some reason.

He took a few steps, before turning back, his Fox watching him leave, he decided to leave on last parting comment, before disappearing from their lives,

“Oh, by the by, you have nice legs.”

As a red flush appeared on their cheeks, Baxter flashed a toothy grin at them before he disappeared into the crowd, feeling warm and accomplished in his adventure of the day. He hoped to remember this night, and his Fox for many years to come; After all, magical moments like these do not come often, and Baxter did not consider himself as someone to be gifted a moment like this again in the future.

#baxtermcweek #BaxterMCWeek #Baxter MC Week #Foxster #August Black #Baxter Ward #olba #our life beginnings and always #our life #olba baxter #olba mc #our life: beginnings & always #baxter x mc #our life baxter #our life beginnings & always #meow fic!

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cheesybadgers · 9 months ago

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Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 23)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 12,675

Summary: It’s been more than a year since Madrid and even longer since the chaos of Colombia. As they settle into a new life in Laredo, their past no longer holding them back, Javier’s career change helps him reconnect with his roots whilst Horacio’s plans for the future of the farm and ranch start to take shape.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Smut (including leather/cowboy kink and power dynamics), grief, parental loss, religious themes and symbolism, discussions of period-typical prejudices/violence/politics/legislation, smoking, drinking, swearing.

Notes: Well, here we are at the final full chapter 👀 No one is more shocked than me that I've made it here tbh 😂 For so long, it felt like finishing this fic was an abstract concept, but somehow, I persevered!

I don't really know what else to say right now, other than, an epilogue will (all being well) be posted on Friday 1st March...exactly 3 years after I posted chapter 1. Don't ask me how 3 years have passed, because my brain cannot compute lol.

The epilogue will be much, much shorter than this chapter, but I think it rounds their story off nicely and I can't wait to share ❤️

Thank you once again to anyone still reading, or anyone who may read this at some point in the future. As always, comments/flailings/key smashes etc. are greatly appreciated 😊

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested (and there's plenty to choose from for this one…in fact, I had to split my trivia post into two as I ran out of space, oops lol).

Chapter 23: Desde La Frontera

As the faded blue truck pulled up in the front yard, the moon sat full and high, casting a pale glow over everything beneath it. A key turned in the lock of the sleeping cottage, the silver hue from above illuminating a convenient pathway, negating the need to switch on a light.

Javier shrugged off his boots and jacket in the kitchen with a weary sigh and deposited his keys in a dish on the table. The hand-painted ceramic bowl had been sent with love from Madrid as a housewarming gift, along with framed artwork of the city they left behind that hung above their bed, a bottle of olive oil, a small jar of saffron, and some homemade turrón.

It wasn’t easy saying goodbye to Señora Romero, the café or their apartment. For all of the unanswered questions they arrived in Spain with, it became their safe haven. Although they were under strict instructions not to leave it too long before visiting again, and who were they to turn down good company and an endless supply of hot, fresh churros?

The rustic limestone cottage had less square footage than the farmhouse next door but was over two stories rather than one. A decked porch ran along the perimeter with wooden chairs and plants at the front, facing a complex of outbuildings and stables. A swing seat big enough for two resided at the back, looking out onto a medium-sized garden with a chicken coop and the rolling farm fields and river bank lying beyond.

The front door opened into a hallway where boots, coats and hats were tidily stored – at Horacio’s insistence – which led to a spacious kitchen/dining area and an adjoining utility room with a door to the garden on the other side. A second hallway branched off the kitchen towards a lounge with a centrepiece stone fireplace and a staircase up to two bedrooms – a master and a smaller spare – and a bathroom.

Whilst the interior still needed some work, fresh coats of paint – off-white for most of the rooms with splashes of eggshell green in the kitchen – and the exposed ceiling beams restored with an oak oil stain gave the place a new lease of life.

The wall clock opposite the kitchen window ticked past 3:00am. Fuck, no wonder Javier felt so beat. He manoeuvred his way upstairs, slow and careful, to avoid the creakiest boards. They may have stripped and waxed the floors, but that apparently didn’t cure the squeaking of the well-worn wood underfoot.

He must have succeeded on this occasion, as it wasn’t until he got to the top that he was met with Luna’s wagging tail. He whispered a greeting to her and rubbed behind her ears until she returned to her sleeping spot beside Sol and Leo, who hadn’t even stirred. Sometimes, the trio would bed down for the night here. Other times, it was just Luna. Rarely, it was none of them now that they had two new rivals for Chucho’s affections next door.

Kira was a six-month-old Great Pyrenees, her thick coat a solid white with pale tan patches. Fuego, a male copper red and white Border Collie, was a couple of months older and already chomping at the bit to get amongst the cattle. Although they both still had to undergo a lot of training before they would be put to use on the ranch, Javier and Horacio got the distinct impression Chucho enjoyed being kept on his toes again.

Javier finally reached his destination but gave himself an extra few seconds to take in the view.

Horacio was nestled beneath their sheets on his stomach, his torso rising and falling in a calming rhythm that Javier was convinced could have lulled him to sleep if he wasn’t standing up.

He undressed, throwing every item of clothing straight into a rattan hamper in the corner of the room, keenly aware he needed to shower but too tired to do anything about it now.

Instead, he perched on the edge of the bed, basking in Horacio’s long eyelashes, rough stubble and unrulier-than-usual hair that was tantalisingly close to becoming a head of curls if he didn’t get it cut soon. Not that Javier was complaining.

He tried to be restrained and let Horacio sleep, but he was only human.

A faint groggy sound came from Horacio’s throat as delicate lips met his forehead, his lashes flickering until they couldn’t resist any longer.

Javier hushed as he gently crawled on the bed, draping himself over Horacio and kissing the nape of his neck. “Sorry it’s so fucking late. Just go back to sleep.”

“You’re making that difficult right now.” Horacio arched his back in response to the warm breath tickling his bare skin as Javier’s mouth worked between muscular shoulder blades.

“Shouldn’t be so irresistible.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No. I’m not.” Horacio twisted around far enough for Javier to slide off his back and onto the mattress, allowing them to properly embrace. And so Horacio could put his own mouth to use.

That was as far as it was going for the night, though. Horacio had an early start in the morning, and Javier didn’t want to fall asleep before they could finish.

“Did it all go okay?” Horacio asked once they had got comfortable.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, there was a delay with the paperwork, as usual. But once we were on the road, it was fine. Heavy traffic around San Antonio, but I almost had the I-35 to myself on the way home.”

“And the family?”

“Exhausted and drained, obviously. Fuck knows when their hearing will be. But at least they’re together again and safe for now.”

Javier wasn't only clueless about the date of the hearing, he couldn’t predict the outcome of it either. That wasn’t his remit. By the time the Suárez Fuentes family were in front of an immigration judge, he would have helped countless more families and individuals like them. Their circumstances weren’t always the same, but their options were just as limited.

Not all days – or nights – were like this one. Sometimes, Javier would be on translation duties on the frontline of the border, triaging and directing people towards help, whether it be medical attention, food, water, toiletries, a change of clothes, a shower, or a bed for the night. Or, more than likely, access to a lawyer. His and the fleet of other aid workers for charities, not-for-profits and NGOs would be some of the first non-threatening faces new arrivals would see once the INS was finished with them, and that wasn’t a responsibility he took lightly.

Other times, he would deliver bond money to detention centres in exchange for someone's freedom, help people fill in forms and paperwork, or run community outreach sessions, reminding people of their rights. He had even hosted several families at the guesthouses for a night or two until safe transportation could be arranged for travel onward to relatives or sponsors elsewhere in the States. Flights were usually not an option for most due to a lack of papers, so the preferred method was long car journeys split between drivers like Javier. No two days were ever quite the same because no two stories were ever the same. There were commonalities, but subtle nuances and complications came with the territory of human lives.

“You did everything you could to help them.”

“I know. Just makes you realise how fucking…fragile it all is. And how fucking lucky we are.”

There was no denying luck – and money, of course – played a role in Horacio securing a visa and the Holy Grail of a green card for being an investor in the States. But Javier had also utilised an old contact at the US Embassy in Bogotá to expedite Horacio’s application. Her name was Colleen, and she had, with great reluctance, helped him secure visas for several informants in the past.

The silence over the line when Javier had uttered Horacio’s name was long, loud and awkward. But just like with his informants, she didn’t ask any questions and did him one last favour on the proviso she never heard from him again.

“We are. And I’ll never forget that.” Horacio’s palm connected with Javier’s cheek, flecks of moonlight highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. “You look exhausted, too.”

A soft chuckle filtered through the shadows. “Thanks. Sorry for waking you, though. I know you’ve gotta be up early.”

“Yeah, which is why I’m glad you did wake me. Once I’ve done the usual rounds, I’ll probably be in meetings most of the day. So, I won’t see you until late.”

“Better make the most of you now, then.”

Lingering kisses followed, but they knew it was fruitless to fight the fatigue.

“How’s everything going with the business plan?” Javier asked once he had accepted defeat.

“So far, so good. I want to go through everything with your father again before everyone arrives. Just to make sure he’s happy with it all.”

“I’ve, er, got it on pretty good authority he is.”

Horacio rolled his eyes. “I know. But it’s his money invested in this place as much as ours. And it’s not like I’m the expert.”

“Not yet. And he trusts you. They all do. You’re no longer a new face around here, remember.”

“I know. But I’m still learning the ropes, and I’m not the one in charge anymore.”

“You sure about that?”

There was a suggestive edge beneath the drowsiness in Javier’s voice. If Horacio looked hard enough through the darkness, he would have seen a quirked brow thrown his way.

“Well, I still have my moments.”

Javier mumbled a lazy hum of agreement. “I’ll say. But don’t worry about tomorrow, okay? You’ll be fine. Trust me.” He managed one last kiss for good measure, even though his eyelids were getting heavier by the second.

A muffled “I do” was pressed into the shell of Javier’s ear as he flipped his body around, his back cushioned against Horacio’s chest. Calloused fingertips weathered by hard labour nowadays rather than a trigger found their home resting on the curve of Javier’s stomach, eliciting a meditative sigh from both as they huddled down.

It didn’t matter that one of them would be up soon with the dawn chorus while the other might be called away past the midnight hour. Because they knew how lucky they were, not only after all they had been through but compared to so many who crossed the border to start a new life. And it was impossible to take that for granted.

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For all that had changed, wall-to-wall meetings and stacks of paperwork were two guaranteed constants to remain. No matter the career path Horacio chose, he was apparently destined never to escape their clutches.

The morning and most of the afternoon – with a short break for lunch – had been spent poring over business plans, maps and spreadsheets with Chucho, his accountant, Miguel, and the ranch and farm managers, Marco and Félix.

Horacio was still adjusting to being the least qualified person in the room again. But the fact that he was even privy to such meetings in the first place was a privilege not customarily afforded to ranch hands without much experience under their belts. It was hard to gauge what others thought about his…unique position here. But he was also an investor whose name, along with Javier’s, was on the title deeds of the farm. Even if people didn’t know about them, it stood to reason that he would be consulted about any development proposals.

Between his money and the safety net of his connections – whatever some may have speculated the precise nature of those were – to a well-respected ranching family, Horacio, so far, hadn’t had too many problems. Not even when shadowing or attending training courses off-site, and he was surrounded by heavy Texan drawls and the type of man who had the propensity to make his feelings clear with his fists – or a gun – if he found out a fellow rancher shared a house and bed with another man.

But the odd off-hand comment had made Horacio wonder if they knew more about his past employment than he realised. In which case, perhaps in their eyes, getting on the wrong side of the former head of Search Bloc wasn’t a wise move.

Regardless, this was what he had signed up for. And for all his investments and networking, there were no cutting corners in ranch and business management, beef production, animal science and equine studies. The Peñas were far from the only family business in the industry, and most had grown up a lot more hands-on than Javier. Horacio could never have leapfrogged over them even if he had wanted to.

By late afternoon, the meetings were done for the day – although there would be plenty more to come – leaving Horacio and Chucho to check on the pregnant heifers. The calves weren’t due until early April, another month away and just in time for Horacio’s birthday. But it was all hands on deck between now and then to ensure it went as smoothly as possible. Their main job today had been to weigh the expectant mothers, who, thankfully, all turned out to be healthy and on the right track.

Broken shards of light bounced off the ranch’s steel fences and gates as Horacio and Chucho sat on the farmhouse porch enjoying a well-earned break, the sun’s heat beginning to show glimpses of what it was capable of during the summer months. Bluebonnets blanketed the fallow fields, and the saccharine scent of yucca blossom travelled on the early spring breeze.

Chucho stirred a freshly made pot of tea and filled two cups to the brim, sliding one across a wooden table towards Horacio, who accepted with a nod of thanks.

“So, do you think it went okay today?” Horacio asked after a quenching sip of tea.

“Better than I expected, to be honest. Félix worked for Ciro and Malena for many years. I wasn’t sure he’d take to new ownership. Or if he’d even want to stay. But he seems to be on board with the idea of expansion.”

“What about the rest of the workers Ciro and Malena employed?”

“A few moved on or retired. But most don’t care who’s in charge as long as they're getting paid.”

“And what about here? Have many left or cut ties since…” Horacio trailed off, hoping he had done enough for Chucho to follow his train of thought without saying it out loud.

“Not many, no, Mijo. And only the ones I’m glad to see the back of.”

“Not many?” Horacio scoffed into his cup, sending ripples across the surface of his drink. “So, still some, then.”

“As I said…only those I don’t want the ranch to be associated with anyway. It's no loss if they can’t keep their noses out of my family’s business.”

The thing was, Horacio and Javier had everything to lose if the wrong person found out. One phone call was all it would take for the police to be banging down their cottage door. After all, that had happened to plenty of others like them in Texas. It had happened to plenty of bars and restaurants that ended up either raided or burned to the ground, the owners and patrons harassed, arrested, beaten to a bloody pulp, or worse. But Horacio couldn’t bring himself to say any of this to Chucho, so he took extra time swallowing his tea instead.

“From what I’ve heard, the majority see you’re a hard worker. You’re willing to learn the ropes. But you’re not afraid to get stuck in or take the lead if needed. You’re professional with the contractors. And you’re trusted to do a good job. That’s worth a lot around here – a lot more than gossipers. I may not know what it’s like for you both...but I do know not everyone’s like them.”

A smile reflexively spread across Horacio’s lips. “My Mamá said similar back in Manizales.”

Chucho mirrored Horacio’s expression. “She sounds like a wise woman.”

“She is.”

“And proud of you. As I’m sure your father would be. Starting over again is never easy, but what you and Javi have done here…I'm proud, too.”

“Thank you. Me too, to be honest.” Horacio let out a brief huff. “When Javier told me what he wanted to do, it was like the final piece slotted in place. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.” He shook his head this time at how blindingly obvious it was once Javier said it out loud. “But I think he needed to leave to be able to come back again.”

Chucho hummed into his tea. “That’s the thing about the past: you can’t outrun it. And once you let it walk alongside you, I think your path becomes clearer.”

For the second time that afternoon, Horacio could scarcely believe his Mamá and Chucho hadn’t met yet. But he was looking forward to the day that would change.

“A few years ago, I never thought this could be my life. Or that I wanted it to be. But now, even though it’s not easy work, and the hours are long, and I’m starting from the bottom of the ladder again, everything just feels…” He broke off, searching for the right word.

“Simple?” Chucho supplied.

“Yes. Simple.”

After Horacio finished his tea and saddled up Coco ready to help move the herds into the barns before nightfall, he didn’t mind that his legs were stiff from all the sitting in chairs he had done today. Or that the last thing he felt like doing was wrangling contrary cattle.

He didn’t mind that it would be more of the same at the break of dawn tomorrow and a long road ahead of grafting and proving himself. He didn’t mind that he wouldn’t catch up with Javier until they shared a late dinner once Javier had driven back from Austin. He didn’t mind if complete strangers couldn’t stomach what they got up to behind closed doors as long as they were left alone to live in peace.

He didn’t mind any of it because they were exactly where they were supposed to be.

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No matter what profession he worked in, it was rare for Javier to take a weekend off. He’d accepted a long time ago he wasn’t the 9-5 type, and leaving it all at the door once he clocked off had never been an option. But a new batch of aid workers and volunteers had arrived in the last few weeks. And once Luz, his boss, got wind of an upcoming birthday in the team, she insisted Javier finally use up some vacation time.

Luz Díaz was someone Javier could call a friend as well as his boss these days, especially in light of their parallel circumstances. While Luz was an aid worker on the border, she lived with Carla Moreno, the daughter of a dairy farmer several miles to the south. However, unlike Chucho and Elena, their parents, whilst not hostile, preferred to brush their daughters' relationship under the carpet wherever possible.

When Luz accompanied Javier to the guesthouses with a new family one afternoon, she had first crossed paths with Horacio. Until then, Javier had played his cards close to his chest, never knowing whether it was safe to trust anyone. But it hadn’t taken Luz long to put two and two together – or for her to realise she could share her secret in return.

Birthdays had held no real significance for Javier since childhood. But his Pops was determined to invite him and Horacio to the farmhouse for dinner that evening. In the meantime, once Javier had escaped work by mid-afternoon, he headed home to freshen up and grab a drink. It may have been late October, but the Texan heat was a stubborn son of a bitch, and was still hitting the mid-90s several times a week.

A neatly written note was pinned to the fridge that read In corn barn, so Javier took a UTV and headed across the farm. It was quieter now the harvest was over, and the cattle from the ranch had grazed on any leftovers. The herds were back next door, allowing bales of corn stalks to be gathered up and stored ready for use as bedding for the livestock on chillier winter nights.

The latest calves had thrived since April and only had two months left before they would be weaned off their mothers. Usually, several were sold at auction, but they had kept hold of them this time due to the extra space. Now the harvest was out of the way, the next step was to clear the lower fields and build a new gate linking the ranch with the farm.

When Javier arrived at the barn, Horacio was unloading the last batch of bales off the trailer.

Horacio paused for a second when Javier came into view, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Where did you get that?”

“It was on the passenger seat.” Javier gestured to the parked UTV. “Does it suit me?” He tipped the brim of a Stetson to match the one Horacio was already wearing.

Given the similarities between their outfits, anyone would have been forgiven for thinking Javier was an employee. They both wore belted dark blue jeans – Horacio’s more mud-splattered – brown boots and plaid shirts with rolled-up sleeves – Horacio’s brown and white and Javier’s green and red. The most noticeable difference was Horacio wore a white bandana around his neck whilst Javier’s shirt collar was wide open, his neck on full display.

Horacio silently lifted the side of the trailer back up and locked it now that it was empty. He shrugged the protective gloves off his hands one by one and flung them into the cab of his truck.

He followed Javier into the barn and closed the door, but his attention was on the wall opposite. A long row of hooks was hung across it, where various pieces of equipment were kept, including overalls, brushes, and a wide range of horse tack.

On the last hook was a coiled lariat, which Horacio picked up and stood facing Javier several feet away. He threaded the rope through the Honda knot until he held a loose loop in his right hand, his hungry gaze fixed on Javier as his wrist built momentum over his head in measured circles.

Before Javier could react, the tip of the rope found its target, tightening around his waist, his feet involuntarily taking him forward as Horacio reeled him in. Even when they were chest to chest and breathing hard, Horacio didn’t let up his grip on the rope.

“You know it does,” Horacio eventually rasped at the shell of Javier's ear.

Javier shivered at the timbre of Horacio’s voice, the earthy scent of the land combining with the heady musk of sweat, remnants of mud and dust still visible on his face and arms. “Someone’s been practising.”

“Well, it is a special occasion.” Horacio tugged on the rope, pressing their bodies together until his lips found Javier’s neck, stubble scratching along his jawline, finally brushing over his mouth.

Javier took the bait, responding with a full kiss, distracting Horacio enough to drop the rope. Then it was all bets off as his hands journeyed over Horacio’s back, first dipping southwards, palming his ass through his back pockets, then northwards to remove the bandana and roam under his shirt. But something made Javier pause mid-way.

He looked at Horacio for an explanation but was met only with a coy smile.

“Happy Birthday.”

Javier’s brow quirked suggestively of its own accord. “I thought we weren’t doing presents.”

“I can take it back if you’d prefer.”

“Don’t you fucking dare. Now, shut up and drive us home.”

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No sooner were they back at their cottage than Horacio straddled Javier’s lap on the couch, teeth nipping as they grabbed handfuls of fabric or skin.

When Javier made to unbutton Horacio’s shirt, Horacio stilled his attempts. “Not yet.”

Instead, his mouth ghosted over Javier’s as his fingers slid down to his belt, unbuckling it unhurriedly and deliberately.

Their laboured breaths filled the silence, the rich scent of earth and woodsmoke heavy on their senses.

“Touch yourself,” Horacio finally said, his order clear, voice steady.

It was all Javier could do not to come on the spot. But he managed to exhale through his nose, his lips pursed as he wrestled back a semblance of control.

He let his right hand slide down to his zipper, which he knew Horacio had left closed on purpose. He gradually unfastened it, his palm disappearing out of sight.

A hitched breath and tensed thighs let Horacio know Javier had made contact even before Javier’s wrist began to twitch.

For several strokes, Horacio merely observed, drinking in every detail of Javier’s face, each jaw movement and shuddered breath, their eyes locked together as Javier took himself in hand.

Horacio couldn't hide that he was more than a little affected by the show beneath him, so he upped the ante, his fingers seeking out the buttons of his shirt, popping the top one first, then the second, third and fourth.

He stopped there, giving Javier another sneak peek of the surprise he had planned for more months than he cared to admit. He could see Javier had noticed the tantalising glimpses of brown leather drawn tightly against bare skin and could feel Javier’s motions speed up.

The remaining buttons followed, allowing the shirt to fall over the broad expanse of Horacio’s shoulders until it hit the floor.

“Fuck.” Javier’s hips spasmed, slamming against Horacio’s crotch in the process and triggering a chain reaction of panting. “Shit, Horacio. Where did you – how –”

Javier was cut off by a finger at his mouth and a soft hushing sound.

Horacio pressed a digit to Javier’s lips until it was engulfed by wet warmth. “Keep going.”

As Javier’s tongue swirled and his cheeks hollowed, he set back to work, building up friction along the shaft and over the head. It was like a switch flicked in Horacio during moments like this when he was all smoky rasps and concise commands. It was the closest Javier had ever got to experiencing Colonel Carrillo first-hand, and nothing was as intoxicating.

When Javier was being regarded and instructed so intensely, he had no choice but to submit. Anything to please the force of nature who made him come harder than he ever had done in his life. And so, he kept going, fist clenched around his cock, edging himself with each edict echoing in his ears.

Running across Horacio’s chest below his pectoral muscles was a leather strap linked to another one on either shoulder that crisscrossed over his back, his biceps restrained by matching cuffs. The leather was a worn cognac brown with intricate stitching, decorative studs and buckles like the vintage cowboy belts the harness appeared to be made from.

“You like it?”

Javier’s free hand hypnotically reached up to Horacio’s torso, fingers tracing each detail of the leather in between cupping Horacio’s pecs and tweaking his nipples.

“Beautiful,” was the only word he could muster. It was by far the best birthday present Javier had ever had. Although, if he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed Horacio was trying to make this his last one.

Horacio was conflicted between watching and needing more, so he compromised by subtly rocking against Javier’s inner thigh whilst continuing his role as a voyeur. Knowing his voice alone could get Javier off was a power trip Horacio never grew tired of, even after all these years. In fact, since his career change, it had become more arousing because being in charge was a novelty now.

He brought two fingers to Javier’s lips again, which were taken greedily without the need to be told.

“Good, that’s it, and another.”

All three digits rested on Javier’s tongue as Horacio probed back and forth with increasing vigour, leaving no doubt what he had in mind as a string of saliva connected from mouth to fingers when he finally withdrew.

Horacio transferred his glossy hand straight to his chest and across his nipples, flicking the pad of his thumb over each bud just the way Javier liked to lick them.

When Horacio looked back up, Javier was tugging in a frenzy, his breathing ragged and fraying at the seams, dangerously close to it all being over.

Horacio reached out to stop Javier’s wrist, leaning closer until his lips brushed against his ear. “Not before I’ve ridden you.”

Javier immediately extracted his hand from his jeans with a huff of frustration, resenting Horacio almost as much as wanting to be fucked. Every man had his limits, and his were rapidly being reached.

With both hands free, he alternated between hot, smooth skin, the textured leather and cool metal. He slid his fingers beneath the harness, imagining all the positions he could manoeuvre Horacio around.

His hands travelled down to Horacio’s ass, pulling him further into his lap as their mouths crashed together at long last. From glutes to thighs, Javier embraced each one until he met resistance under the denim of Horacio’s jeans.

Javier ran his fingers over it a few times. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Javier growled as he lunged for Horacio’s belt and zipper, both men making light work of removing his jeans.

Whilst Horacio stood up, he took the opportunity to undress Javier and reach over to the drawer beneath the nearby coffee table. He rummaged around until he retrieved what he was looking for and stashed it on the sofa.

There was no holding back now as nails raked over hot skin and tongues connected, rough and harsh, their cocks jutting between their stomachs. Javier’s hands glided over and under the leather straps, descending beyond until his palms massaged Horacio’s cheeks apart, wider with each circular motion, his knuckles teasing up and down the cleft.

The tremor that ran through Horacio was enough to cause Javier’s arm to stretch across the sofa until he located the bottle of lube, expertly flipping the cap open and pouring liberally.

He alternated between his middle finger and thumb in a corkscrew motion, letting Horacio stretch around him, Horacio’s forehead dropping to Javier’s shoulder, teeth grazing flesh as he held their cocks in his fist.

It wasn’t long before Horacio lowered himself, steadily taking inch by inch. He initially held still, experimenting with nudges up and down as he braced his arms on the back of the couch.

A winded noise escaped Javier’s throat as Horacio sunk deeper with more force this time, gyrating his hips until he found a rhythm.

Javier was torn between the mass of muscle and leather at his fingertips but settled for clinging to the front of the harness, pulling Horacio further onto his cock.

A strained grunt left Horacio’s throat, prompting him to re-adjust so his feet were planted flat on the sofa cushions, the change in angle plunging him to new depths. He paused, giving them a chance to catch their breaths. And then, without further warning, Horacio squatted down.

The echo of his ass hitting Javier’s thighs was enough to make Horacio do it again. And again, over and over, the slap of skin on skin louder each time.

One of Javier’s hands scrambled aimlessly around for an anchor, eventually finding the couch’s arm where Horacio’s Stetson had landed earlier in the proceedings.

Javier snatched hold of the brim and brought it towards them, depositing it on Horacio’s head. “Keep it on.”

Horacio was powerless to refuse when it made Javier’s cock twitch and pulsate, massaging Horacio’s prostate as he bounced at just the right angle, his own length sliding up and down the plains of Javier’s chest and abdomen.

Now the hat was in place, Javier's hands sailed over Horacio’s thighs, pausing as he made contact with the leather band around his right thigh. He couldn’t believe Horacio had not only remembered their dirty talk the morning after Trujillo’s wedding but that he had brought Javier’s fantasy to life. And it was better than even his wildest dreams could have imagined.

A part of him wanted to remove the garter just so he could re-attach it. But he was mesmerised by the way the leather stretched around Horacio’s thigh as his pelvis pulsed back and forth, up and down, and round and round.

His fingers gravitated south, landing where the two men joined together. “Fuck,” Javier choked out, rubbing in circles around the wet rim, feeling the thrumming heat of his own cock, and wishing he had a better visual of them moving as one.

“Lie on the floor.” In complete contrast, Horacio’s cadence was calm and in control, like he was directing his horse.

Javier did as he was told, his body cushioned by a thick grey, black, and ivory Zapotec rug.

Without hesitation, Horacio sat atop Javier’s thighs with his back to him, presenting the perfect view as though he had read Javier’s mind. As he re-seated himself, he reached behind, spreading his cheeks wider as he sunk lower.

A strangled whimper was drawn from Javier’s chest as he raised his head for a closer look once Horacio started to move. He ignored the strain in his neck and replaced Horacio’s hands with his own, each palm cupping and squeezing, pushing forward, fingernails clawing, urging his rider to go faster.

In response, Horacio deepened the roll of his hips and balanced his hands on the rug beneath them.

They had picked it out on a trip to San Antonio the previous year, one of their first joint purchases for the cottage. And now they were finally christening it, surrounded by an array of décor and furnishings they had chosen together since. For their own home, an unthinkable notion in the not-so-distant past. Yet here they were against all odds.

Javier grasped the latest addition to their household, pulling Horacio by the harness in all directions as though he was the jinete (horseman) steering the reins rather than the steed being mounted bareback. But Horacio was the one wearing a Stetson. The one in the saddle daily, strengthening and toning his muscles even more than they already were, and Javier could already feel the difference.

He let go of the harness, his fingertips skimming Horacio’s voluptuous upper arms, rump and thighs, caressing the tight leather cuffs, pressing the sharp chill of the buckles against fiery skin until a shockwave rippled through Horacio and straight to Javier’s cock.

As Javier’s hips involuntarily bucked, their rhythm faltering in a chorus of moans, Horacio was beginning to regret not utilising a belt or one of the lariats from the barn as restraints on Javier’s wrists. But he changed his mind when he felt a crisp slap across the ass like a quirt used with overzealous force. But unlike the horses – with whom he was always gentle – Horacio had no objection to the sting left behind.

In fact, it only spurred Horacio on, his ass lifting higher with each strike, building momentum, one hand stimulating his own cock in tandem.

Javier could feel rather than see Horacio jerking off, and his pelvis began to automatically plough upwards again, trying and failing to keep in time when he was this far gone.

“Horacio,” Javier breathed out, his tone pleading, desperate and wrecked.

“Tell me what you need.” Horacio wasn’t going to make it as easy this time. If Javier wanted something, he would have to use his words.

“I need you on all fours.”

And so Horacio dismounted, willing and waiting to give Javier everything he asked for, a complete 180 in a matter of minutes.

Javier wasted no time and fell in place behind Horacio, lining himself up and propelling forwards with a rough thud, nails digging into hipbones hard enough to leave marks.

As Horacio took himself in hand once more, Javier slowed to bask in a bird's eye view of his cock disappearing and reappearing, his thumbs spreading Horacio wider to get a better look at where they became one. It would have been easy to take it for granted by this stage, but he never did, not when they had been forced apart by circumstance and geography so many times before.

Whilst Javier was distracted, Horacio threw back his hips, causing a hiss of pleasure that inspired him to do it again and again, his ass pounding against Javier’s groin.

Javier drove forward in retaliation, pulling Horacio towards him with a firm jerk on the harness, a dual wave of groans unleashing each time Javier manhandled him, the thick leather straps taut against Horacio’s clammy skin, hopefully leaving imprints from the force.

Javier yanked hard enough to raise Horacio up on his knees, cementing them back to chest, teeth, mouth and moustache going to town as Horacio craned his neck to meet the onslaught.

“Do you know how fucking good you look like this? How…fucking…beautiful?” Javier’s declaration was broken up with each thrust as he resumed movement.

“It’s all for you,” Horacio purred between lip bites. “Your own cowboy to play with.”

With a muttered “Fuck,” Javier pushed Horacio back down on all fours, toppling his Stetson to the floor, one hand gripping at the harness, the other at the nape of Horacio’s neck, his fingers fondling the gold chain that complemented the silver one at his own breast.

His hips hammered forward, no holds barred, as an all too familiar pressure built and threatened to consume him any second now. He glanced down, transfixed by his own fluid motions, entranced by how well Horacio held his cock, how Javier had tamed a once wild bronco who would have thrown off any other rider a long time ago. But not him, never him, so maybe he was more of a vaquero than he thought.

A combination of the visuals, the leather against his skin, and the tight heat squeezing and releasing around him took its toll. Javier let out a wounded gasp as though all the air had been knocked out of his lungs, his muscles tensing from head to toe as he watched his cock spasm and fill Horacio up.

As liquid warmth painted Horacio's walls, his wrist jolted and shook, sending him over the edge. He felt an extra weight on his back, the harsh scrape of teeth and words of encouragement at his ear as a hand took over from his own. Just the right pace and force, just how he liked it, just enough to make him coat Javier’s fingers, vision blurred, back arched.

They didn’t move as the room came back into focus, letting their lungs and heart rates return to baseline. Before Horacio could collapse to the floor, Javier slowly pulled out, smearing glistening fingers around Horacio’s fluttering hole, mixing it in with his own release. His tongue swirled and lapped from behind, making Horacio tremble on his knees until they buckled, and he could take no more.

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The spark of a lighter and deep exhales of smoke were the only sounds to be heard for several minutes as they lay recovering in bed, the hard floor downstairs proving too much for their aching limbs, even with the rug for protection.

“So, are you gonna tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“Oh, come on. You know fucking well what.”

“Do I?”

“Yes.”

“Does it matter?”

“Well…no. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“Surprised you haven’t guessed. In fact, I kinda thought it was you dropping a hint.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It was one of your old magazines that gave me the instructions on how to make it. And it’s not hard to get access to leather around here. The saddlers the ranch uses are well-stocked in almost everything. They don’t need to know what it’s being used for.”

Whatever Javier had been expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. When moving into the cottage, he had cleared out his old bedroom. Hidden in the depths of his wardrobe, beneath several layers of clothes, was a pile of magazines he never had the heart to throw away or burn, one of which was a Cowboy and Rodeo Special of Drummer.

Javier blew out a low chuckle as he passed their cigarette across the bed. “I wish I had been dropping a hint. Although…looks like you did fine without my influence. Always the dark horse.”

"Hey, they're your magazines, not mine."

"You read them. Cover to cover by the sounds of it."

"Just making up for lost time when I was younger."

"At least someone's getting use out of them. So, you ready for your first rodeo, now? Based on this afternoon, I'd put in a good word."

"Very funny."

Although, whilst Javier was, of course, joking, there were plenty of men like Horacio who did compete across Texas – without hiding who they were as well. He imagined Horacio would rather die in a stampede of raging bulls than partake in such a competition. But nonetheless, it was an appealing fantasy for Javier to indulge in from time to time.

His fingers traced patterns over Horacio’s thigh where the leather garter remained even after the harness and cuffs had come off, the leftover scent of sweat and semen on their skin fusing with the tobacco in the air. He had taken great pleasure and care in removing those; however, when it came to the garter, Javier placed a ring of kisses where the leather sat but left it in position.

“You liked it, then?”

Javier gave Horacio an incredulous look as though the answer spoke for itself. But there was a hint of uncertainty behind the question, and it was only fair to provide reassurance. “I loved it. A lot. I don’t really do birthdays, but you’ve certainly made this one memorable. So, thank you.”

"My pleasure," Horacio murmured mid-kiss. "And it definitely beats my birthday."

"That wouldn't be hard."

The first few hours of Horacio's birthday were spent helping deliver calves and bedding down close by the expectant mothers every night for the following two weeks. He barely saw Javier other than at meal times, and it took multiple showers to wash the pungent barn aroma out of his hair.

“Hadn’t we better shower soon?” Horacio said with reluctance once they pulled apart. “Don’t wanna keep your father waiting.”

Javier leaned over to look at the clock on the bedside table. “Yeah, we should. I’m starving now we’ve worked up an appetite.”

“Do you want to do the honours?” Horacio gestured towards his thigh.

“Keep it on.”

Horacio could tell from the wicked glint in Javier's eye he wasn’t joking. “You do know I have to work with your father? And look him in the eye.”

“Oh, come on, he won’t even notice. Not everyone checks you out as much as me, y’know. Especially not my Pops. And…” Javier sat up and swung his leg across Horacio’s thigh until he was straddling him. “It is still my birthday, remember.”

Despite such brazen tactics, Horacio met Javier’s mouth again, groaning gently as Javier’s teeth pulled on his bottom lip. “Fine. As long as you can keep your hands to yourself through dinner.”

“I’ll try my best.”

He could make no such guarantees after dinner, though.

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

It took another week for the temperature to cool by several degrees, just in time for the residents of Laredo to visit neighbouring pumpkin patches, carve out Jack-o’-lanterns and go Trick-or-Treating.

By the time Javier had finished work and picked up some groceries, Chucho was busy in the lounge blanketing a table with a white lace cloth before arranging two extra tiers on top decorated with papel picado. Nearby trays were full of items ready and waiting to be placed on the ofrenda, including a Talavera pitcher of water, pan de muerto, a plate of salt, fresh marigolds, Calaveras, and a familiar wooden box.

Chucho looked up at Javier, who stood in the doorway with a cardboard box. “Ah, Javi, good timing. Pass those here.”

Javier held out a batch of fresh buñuelos delivered straight from Desde La Frontera. “Need a hand?”

Chucho looked at Javier with pleasant surprise. “Please, Mijo.”

Between them, they transferred everything from the trays to the table, Chucho directing where each item needed to be placed.

When it came to the wooden box, Chucho sat on the sofa to open it.

Javier watched silently from a few feet away, an ache forming in his chest when he saw the photos spread out on the furniture. But he pushed past it and sat in the adjacent armchair.

He looked closer at the pictures and reached into the pocket of his leather jacket. “This needs to go on it too,” he said.

Chucho glanced up to see Javier clutching Mariana’s poetry book.

“Of course. She can tell us how much she liked Madrid. Which reminds me…”

Chucho stood up and disappeared into his bedroom before reappearing with a card in his hand. “I always keep it by my bed, but it belongs on here.”

Chucho was holding an old prayer card of La Virgen de Guadalupe. “Abuela Rosa gave it to your Mamá for her quinceañera, along with these.” Chucho lifted a string of rosary beads from the wooden box. “I think she cherished the card as a reminder of our ancestors. Even though your Abuela disapproved, your Mamá had her own ideas about Guadalupe.” He couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head with fondness.

“How do you mean?”

“Back in the '60s, Guadalupe became the mascot for the farmers’ union protests – the ones your Mamá marched on. She liked to think of her as someone who helped those in need. Do you remember her reading stories about the Aztecs? And Guadalupe, La Malinche and La Llorona?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

Javier blinked, keeping his eyes closed for a fraction longer than was customary. The memory was fuzzy around the edges, but he could feel the warmth of his mother lying beside him on his bed, a book between them as she read aloud tales of their ancestors. Once he started getting drowsy, she would sing to him or stroke his hair and kiss him goodnight, the comforting sound of her favourite telenovelas drifting through his bedroom door as he fell into a deep sleep.

When he was even smaller and couldn’t sleep after his older cousins convinced him La Llorona had been spotted in Laredo the previous night, his Mamá soothed him with the advice she had been given by her mother to always pray a Hail Mary and an Our Father whenever near water before making a sign of the cross for protection.

However, Javier also remembered during the first few months after she was gone, he would have nightmares about La Llorona. Except in those dreams, his Mamá had taken on the appearance of the wailing spirit, and her ghost roamed along the banks of the Rio Grande, screaming for him. But no matter how hard he tried to get closer to her, she would move out of reach until he woke up screaming.

“There have been so many versions of those stories since the days of the Aztecs, who knew Guadalupe as Coatlalopeuh, Tonantzin, or Coatlicue. La Llorona as Cihuacoatl. And La Malinche as Malinalli or Malintzin, or La Chingada. Some of those stories say they are all one and the same. And that the conquistadors made Guadalupe the Madonna above the others. Your Mamá saw Guadalupe as a symbol of hope, a mediator between the Aztec and Catholic religions, uniting all the different parts of us and our roots. The light and the dark, the old world and the new, the conquered and the conqueror, the obedient and the rebellious, the eagle and the snake, the Mexican and the American.”

“Never thought of it like that when I was younger. But it’s beautiful.”

“It is.” Chucho stood up and placed the prayer card on the altar.

“D’you think it’s possible, though? To unite it all, I mean.”

“I think we have to try as much as we can. And learn to make peace with it when we can’t. But I know it’s not easy.”

“Mexico didn’t seem far enough to run when I took the DEA job, even though it was never home. So, Colombia it was.” Javier couldn’t help but laugh at his own confused logic in hindsight. “But when we were in Manizales, I kept thinking about all the stories you told me about our family history – in the US and Mexico. And it just…hit me I was needed right here on the border. So, thank you, Pops.”

“For what?”

“For reminding me of my roots.”

“Your Mamá helped out a lot here, but she always wanted to do more. And she would have done a whole lot more if she’d had the chance. She’d have fought for yours and Horacio’s rights too, I’m sure of it. I had a feeling you’d take after her one day.”

“Better late than never, right?”

“Right. She’d be so proud of you and your work, Mijo. And so am I.”

A customary exchange of nods filled the silence that had become a trademark between father and son over the years when words seemed inadequate.

Chucho cleared his throat and turned to make one final check everything was in its rightful place on the ofrenda. “I think we’re about ready if you want to get Horacio.”

Javier headed next door with his Pops’ words – and his Mamá’s – echoing in his head. He thought about all the tangled threads that had run through him his whole life like the river he grew up on the bank of. It was ironic he could walk across bridges from Laredo into Mexico and back again, a confluence of his heritage. Yet there was always a gap that wouldn’t close. A gap those who insisted on his name meaning shame with a n rather than rock with a ñ wouldn’t let him close. All of the contradictions and dualities he had tried to reconcile, assuming in the past that he was expected to pick one or the other but never feeling qualified enough, resigning himself to an eternal conflict he could never win.

He thought about the people who crossed the invisible line in the earth every day, the one that instantly changed their identity and status whether they liked it or not, dividing and flattening their humanity into stereotypes and insults. The one that caused mothers separated from their children to cry like La Llorona and be condemned for finding themselves in desperate circumstances through no fault of their own. The one that led to Operations Hold the Line and Gatekeeper building walls and deploying an army of la migra, as Border Patrol were often called, to keep people out.

Maybe it was Javier’s recalcitrance, but the more the US government tried to put up borders – despite not thinking twice about violating those belonging to other countries – the more at ease he felt without them. After all, Texas had been part of Mexico in the past, as well as its own republic, and he had spent more than enough of his life trapped by self-imposed borders and walls already.

To be in a place like Laredo was to live on the margin of two countries and cultures, not one or the other. He was Mexican American, a Tejano. He had shared his heart and bed with women and men. Horacio was a closely guarded secret and a naked truth; they lived in the shadows and in the light. He was making a difference, yet it was a drop in the ocean of an ever-expanding problem. He regretted so much of what went down in Colombia, but not that he went in the first place, not only because of Horacio but because it brought him full circle. It brought him peace. It brought him home.

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

As the clock struck midnight and welcomed in Día de los Difuntos, the ofrenda was aglow with candlelight, and the fresh scent of copal filled the farmhouse.

Horacio stood over the altar, his gaze fixed on the image of him in his Papá’s jacket, his father’s usually stern expression relaxed and…proud. He had never really allowed himself to think of that word before. But as the veladoras flickered and swayed across the photograph his Mamá had insisted he kept, he could no longer ignore it.

Beneath the photo lay the golden pendants, temporarily removed from Horacio's neck for the festivities, a glass of his Papá’s favourite rum to match the one in his hand, and a plate of tamales.

“Not bad for a Colombian.”

“I guess I had a good teacher.”

“After dealing with a son determined not to follow in my footsteps, it makes a change to find someone more willing.”

Horacio’s eyes landed back on the photograph of him and his Pops before shifting to one of Mariana in her element at a Chicano civil rights march with a toddling Javier by her side, a bittersweet smile taking hold of his lips. “Funny how it works out.”

“True. But as long as it does, that's the main thing. Even if it’s not what you expected.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“What are we toasting?” Javier asked as he came in from the kitchen with two glasses of his Mamá’s mezcal of choice, passing one over to Chucho.

Chucho gave a nod of thanks and raised his glass. “To endings and beginnings. And reunions.”

The next couple of hours were spent telling stories, reminiscing, remembering. Welcoming the past into the present, letting it know there was still a future.

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

Chucho retreated to bed first, leaving Javier and Horacio to finish their drinks by the fire, which had burned down to its last mesquite log.

After placing their empty glasses in the kitchen, Javier stopped by the ofrenda on his way back to the sofa. His eye caught the selection of sugar skulls on display, each delicate design bearing the name of a departed loved one. Although, there were, in fact, two each for Mariana and Eduardo.

Javier traced his finger across the one which read Mariana Rosa Reyes Estrada, a pair of arms gathering tightly around his waist simultaneously.

“I never knew her with this name. She left Estrada behind in Mexico. Before she married, she was Mariana Reyes. Then she took Pops’ name ‘cos that’s the gringo way. And to make all the paperwork easier, I was just a Peña, too. But Pops likes to welcome her home with her Mexican and American names. In case she gets lost, he always says.” Javier released an affectionate chuckle at the expense of his Pops’ superstitions.

“He told me when he asked for my father’s full name.” Horacio smiled into Javier’s shoulder as he reached towards the skull that read Eduardo Horacio Carrillo Acosta.

He repeated the same motion across the shared part of his and his Papá's name. “The CNP prefer you choose one name when you enlist. So, of course, we all followed suit – Mamá included. And she left Sierra behind when she changed her papers.”

“Seems like we all have to leave parts of ourselves behind one way or another.”

“True. But if we’re lucky, we find them again somewhere down the line.”

Javier hummed in agreement as a trail of kisses soothed at his neck.

“When was the last time you did this, by the way?” Horacio asked as he traced idle patterns over Javier’s stomach.

“Día de Muertos? Fuck…I can’t even remember. When I was in Colombia, I always came home for Christmas – but not before. Pops never made a big deal out of it, but I could tell he was disappointed.”

“I’m sure he understood. And at least you’re here now.”

“I know. I think I just needed to do it in my own time.”

“Same here. So, thank you. To you and your father.”

“For what?”

“Letting me be a part of it. I think it’s something I’ve needed to do for years.”

“Horacio, of course you’re a part of it. You’re a part of the family.” Javier’s fingers found Horacio’s, lacing them together with ease above the belt of his jeans. “Tú eres mi familia.” (You’re my family)

“Y tú eres mía.” (And you’re mine)

“I was thinking about tomorrow…well, technically, later today. I, er, wondered if you wanted to watch the parade downtown. Then maybe head over to the cemetery with Pops. It's fine if it’s too much. I get it. I just thought maybe –”

“It’s okay.” Horacio cut him off, turning him around until they were face-to-face then forehead-to-forehead. “I’d love to.”

As the last embers of mesquite turned to ash, they knelt in front of the soft glow of the ofrenda, fingers connecting with their silver cross encased between their palms. A final attempt to welcome home those who had shaped so much of their children's lives, even in their absence, and sometimes in the most unexpected ways.

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Echoes of drumbeats filled downtown Laredo by late afternoon, accompanied by a rainbow of papel picado along every street and a sea of Catrinas and Catrins. Children and adults alike wore masks or calavera face paint and marigolds in their hair, the intricate details of their costumes no doubt requiring months of preparation.

Food and drink stalls had seemingly popped up overnight, selling everything from pan de muerto, pozole and tamales to alegría, gorditas, marranitos and champurrado. It was impossible not to get swept from stand to stand, and fears of Javier and Horacio being scrutinised by anyone they happened to bump into were soon allayed. The hustle and bustle of the festivities made them anonymous yet at one with the city, as they were all here for the same reason.

Floats, dancers and puppets passed through the main roads, a spectacle Javier hadn’t witnessed in years. As a teen, the last thing he felt like doing was celebrating when it came to his Mamá’s passing. She wasn’t supposed to have gone so soon. But nowadays, he could appreciate the care and respect involved in honouring the dead. He could look back on the precious memories and not feel the need to push them away. He could accept the duality of grief and love, not as contradictions but as two sides of the same coin.

As they followed the procession at the end of the parade, making their way towards the cemetery to meet Chucho, Javier caught Horacio’s eye with a silent question. One that Horacio answered with a firm nod, reassurance that they were still on the same page.

So much had changed since Horacio was last here for Día de Muertos, not least of all the fact Javier was with him this time and had since met his family. And Escobar was dead, of course. His Papá was no longer a choking force around his neck but a warm presence that sat more comfortably on his chest. Not weightless, but manageable now.

Although darkness had fallen by the time they arrived at the cemetery, a sea of candles and lanterns lit the gravesides like an endless night sky, each one guiding the way home, even if just for one day. The celebrations from earlier continued, some families singing, drinking and eating. Others prayed or sat with blankets and hot drinks, telling stories and keeping memories alive.

Chucho had been busy when it was still light, clearing out dried flower stems and polishing Mariana’s headstone. Now, fresh marigolds were arranged around the candles, their strong fragrance carrying across the cemetery.

They were greeted with pats on the back and a glass of mezcal. A lowkey toast and short prayers were all they had planned, preferring to save the rest for the privacy of home.

“I just wanted to say thank you. To both of you for coming.”

“Any time, Pops. I’d forgotten how beautiful this place looks all lit up.”

“It reminds me of Día de las Velitas back in Colombia. People light candles and lanterns at cemeteries like this. Not that I could bring myself to join them after Papá.”

“There’s still time.” Javier held Horacio’s gaze through the flickering half-light, making the most of the only gesture he could give in public.

“I know.”

“It’s quieter here usually. A nice place to think. And she’s always been a good listener. So, if you ever need some breathing space, I’m sure she’d be all ears.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Horacio mirrored Chucho’s soft smile before laying down a tasteful wreath of marigolds he’d bought from one of the street vendors on their way here.

Javier watched with a growing warmth in his chest as his past, present and future collided once again. A first meeting of sorts, even if it wasn’t how it should have been. Even if it was built on memories and traditions, on prayers and stories, it was still real.

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

Slivers of silver reflected off the dark waters beyond the farm’s boundaries, the stars above shimmering like distant fireflies. Southern Texan Decembers were mild, but there was a chill to the air after sundown, especially by the river bank. However, it was nothing a blanket or two couldn’t fix.

Horacio was propped against a mesquite tree with Javier sitting between his legs, one blanket beneath them and the other draped over them. Coco stood watch nearby, her reins looped around a branch as she chomped on her favourite treat of apple slices – a reward for tonight’s extra work.

They shared a flask of Manizales’ finest coffee between Horacio lightly massaging Javier’s scalp and temples. It had been a hectic few days, from Chucho roping them into Las Posadas preparations to the farm being short-staffed in the past week due to seasonal colds and flu and the border seeing a higher influx of crossings in the build-up to the holidays.

Apart from a Christmas dinner or two, they weren’t expecting to take much time off over the festive period, but tonight was all about them. They had miraculously managed to escape work on time before driving to Desde La Frontera for a meal that was starting to become an anniversary tradition.

Javier played with Horacio’s hands, pressing kisses into his knuckles and pausing over his left wrist. “You like it, then?”

“Very much.”

“I know it’s not quite a garter or harness, but…” Javier trailed off, his shoulders and abdomen shaking in tandem.

“The strap’s the same colour, though.” One of Horacio’s hands snaked along Javier’s form, tickling at the waistband of his jeans enough to make him squirm.

“Oh really? Hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar.”

“Maybe. But it does suit you.”

Of course, Javier was banged to rights. He had spent considerable time picking out the watch, knowing Horacio preferred something digital – for pinpoint accuracy – and practical. Horacio had never got around to replacing his old one that was stopped by the ambush, so it was a long overdue replacement.

But if it also happened to be a gentle reminder of certain escapades every time he looked down at it, well...that was an added bonus. As was the thought of Horacio wearing Javier’s gift buckled around his wrist every day, the strap tight enough to leave a mark on his sun-kissed skin.

“Likewise with your present.”

“I dunno about that. I think you wear it better.”

“You’re the homegrown Texan boy, not me.”

“You’re the fucking cowboy, not me.”

Horacio’s fingers on his right hand took a firmer hold of Javier’s hair, coaxing him to turn around and abandon the flask he had just brought to his lips. “Technically…you own part of the ranch and farm. So, it’s about time you had a Stetson.”

Their lips met over Javier’s shoulder, still warm and tingling from the coffee.

“Fair point.” Javier picked up the flask again and downed whatever was left before it went cold. “We got any more of this, by the way?”

“Not ‘til next week. I told Alejandra to bring as much as she can fit in her luggage.”

“Well, there’ll be plenty of suitcases to choose from.”

“I know. I’m not sure your father knows what he’s let himself in for.”

“Oh, don’t worry, he knows from when my cousins and I were kids. And he gets to play host, so he’ll be in his element.”

“He’s already given me a list of groceries to pick up on the way back from the livestock auction in Hondo.”

“When’s that again?”

“The day before my family arrives. Not ideal timing, but couldn’t really say no to more experience.”

“You still shadowing Gus Montoya?”

“Yeah, he’s been in the trade since he was 16, and he’s one of the best in the business now. I thought I should be involved before we start buying the new Santa Gertrudis and Longhorns for this place next year.”

“The paddocks are gonna be in these lower fields here, right?” Javier gestured towards a recently cleared stretch of land with the newly installed gate separating it from the ranch next door.

“Yes. It’ll be easier to move everything back and forth without disturbing the other fields. Then, once the new herd’s settled in, we can expand the stables, get in some more Morgans and Quarter Horses. Maybe diversify the cover crops for next winter.”

“Sounds good.” An unseen smile had spread across Javier’s face, the novelty of listening to Horacio talk ranch business not having worn off yet. All those years he tuned out whenever his Pops did the same, yet he never tired of hearing Horacio’s plans.

“It keeps me out of trouble.”

“Shame.”

“That’s not until next year, though…” Horacio trailed off, his lips devouring Javier’s neck, nibbling until Javier wriggled in his hold.

“Well, we better make the most of this before your family arrives.”

Horacio hummed in agreement, his mouth still buried in Javier’s shoulder. “Especially as there’s a quick turnaround before New Year’s.”

“True. I take it Felipe and Juana are still okay to come?”

“I forgot to tell you – I spoke to him earlier. Juana’s feeling much better now the morning sickness has passed. And with Cali gone and FARC taking up more and more CNP resources in the jungle, it’s mostly turf wars between the smaller gangs in Medellín. So, Martínez authorised his leave, and they’re flying out on the 30th.”

“Glad to hear it. It’s all good on the Miami front as well. They arrive the same day, late afternoon, once Connie’s finished her shift and Steve’s picked Olivia up from his parents’ house.”

“Okay, good. So, everything’s sorted then.”

“Not quite…I still need to clean out the guesthouses. Don’t think our old one’s been done since the Navarro Vega family left.”

“At least it’s still getting used since we moved out.”

“Yeah, well, I guess someone always needs it. Especially with IIRIRA coming into force. So many more fucking deportations. So many people taking bigger risks ‘cos they've got no choice.” Javier exhaled harshly through his nose.

He ran his fingers over his moustache and chin, pressing his thumb into his jaw and resting his face in his hand. “It’s starting to feel like the old days again.”

“But it’s not, Javier. You’re on the other side of it all this time.”

“It’s not just the border, though, is it?”

“What isn’t?”

“Legislation that could have us arrested for fucking in the privacy of our own home.”

“We’ve always been careful.”

“We thought we were careful back in Colombia, Horacio. And look where that got us.”

Javier didn’t think about those days much anymore if he could help it. Neither man did, except on specific dates or bad days if they were unlucky. But it was hard to shake the sense of paranoia in light of what the laws of his own state had to say about his sex life. It wasn’t far-fetched to imagine someone like Mia Domínguez spying on them through a long lens, waiting to catch them out.

“True. There’ll always be a risk. But people like us have always existed under the radar. And we’ve been here over a year now, remember. Anyone who’s got a problem with us has already made their feelings perfectly clear. The rest either don’t know or don't give a fuck. Our story doesn’t have to end like the one you showed me in The New Yorker.”

“I know.”

Javier had been in two minds about whether to share it. But Horacio insisted he was the one to be read to for a change, preferring to hear the evocative imagery of the wild American landscape from the mouth of a Texan. The parallels were undoubtedly there between the glossy magazine pages and elements of their lives – but luckily, not all of it rang true for them.

“For a start, they were sheepherders from Wyoming,” Javier added with a tone of defiance.

“Exactly. Completely different.”

“Yep.” Javier exhaled loudly, his mind already returning to his previous stubborn thought. "But it’s the same government smoke and mirrors shit all over again. The same fucking hypocrisy. If it's not chasing people down the river or letting them die in the desert, it’s drug shipments they made easier to transport here in the first place. Or you’ve got couples like us crossing over looking for safety, only to run into fucking sodomy laws. It’s never gonna stop.”

It was the same sleight of hand tactics Javier had seen before. Legislation made thousands of miles away would claim to solve a problem whilst exacerbating it on the frontline. Whether it was drugs or human beings, they proved time and time again that they couldn’t be contained by a border or a statute book. Whether it was Border Patrol or the DEA, choppers would fly over the river at night, fruitlessly chasing traffickers despite the extra budget. If the usual border crossings were out of bounds, people would risk more remote or treacherous spots to try their luck.

It wasn’t unheard of for them to emerge from clusters of trees like the one they were sitting in now, drenched and shaking from the cold and dehydration. Or for Javier to be ready and waiting with towels, a change of clothes, a hot shower, or food and drink. Some would present themselves willingly to the authorities, others would disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. If anyone ever asked, Javier had seen and knew nothing.

“And neither are you. Look at all the people you’ve helped already. You might not be able to save everyone, but you’re making the difference you always wanted to make.”

Horacio coaxed Javier to face him again, cupping his jaw and rubbing a thumb over his stubbled cheek. “Estoy orgulloso de ti.” (I’m proud of you)

Javier closed his eyes, basking in Horacio’s touch and closing the gap between them. “Y yo de ti.” (And I of you)

Easy kisses followed – the kind that were grounding and familiar, safe and timeless.

They rode back to the cottage with only the moon and stars guiding the way. Horacio clasped Coco’s reins whilst Javier held onto his waist from behind, making the most of the idyllic evening spent alone. Because even here, they knew it couldn’t always be like this. But despite all that life would throw at them in the years to come, they would be there for each other, to grow and change, to sail in the same direction, even if not always in the same boat. To make peace with the past, to live in the present, and to look to the future on their own terms.

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Burnt oranges and yellows filled the stone fireplace, the crackling of charred mesquite wood accompanying the dulcet tones of Elvis on the turntable. A fresh pine tree stood in the corner opposite a set of bookshelves, its white lights and a row of candles on the mantlepiece casting a soft glow across the lounge.

By next year, they would have to re-think the room's layout as the shelves were almost out of space. They had transferred all of their old books, records and tapes when they moved in – two poetry books in particular taking pride of place – which now sat alongside newly purchased or gifted titles from the likes of Fernando Vallejo, E.M. Forster, John Rechy, Gloria E. Anzaldúa, Alejo Durán, Linda Ronstadt, K.D. Lang, Vicente Fernández, Walt Whitman, Pedro Almodóvar and Gregg Araki. And no doubt there would be further additions to their collection on Christmas Day.

Luna was the sole canine guest tonight, her bond with Horacio somehow stronger again since Kira’s and Fuego’s arrival. Sol and Leo had grown increasingly fond of their new playmates in the last few months, so it was often the three of them in the cottage nowadays. Horacio hadn’t discussed it with Chucho, but he hoped she would stay with them permanently – and see out her retirement years – once the new cattle were in place.

She lay in her favourite chair, fast asleep with her head on the armrest and oblivious to their return home beyond a drowsy wag of the tail, before resuming her dreams.

“You had a good day, then?” Javier asked from the comfort of Horacio’s shoulder, their arms wrapped around each other as they gently swayed to the music.

Horacio let out a contented hum of approval, burying himself against Javier’s shirt, breathing all of him in. “It was perfect.”

“It was.”

“Although…I think there’s one thing missing.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Your present.”

Javier’s chest shook, and something that sounded remarkably like “You fucker” was sworn against the crook of Horacio’s neck, followed by a sharp nip of the teeth.

“It’s only fair.” Horacio tried to keep an authoritative edge to his tone. But it was far from convincing when he ended up laughing as much as Javier.

“Actually…it’s only fair if you wear your hat too.” Another neck bite, accompanied this time by a trail of kisses along the open collar of Horacio’s red plaid shirt, shoving the bandana aside for easier access. “Deal?”

Horacio’s back arched involuntarily, the rumble threatening to escape from his throat tempered into an elongated sigh instead. Not much of a win, but he’d take it. “Deal.”

And so Javier fetched the Stetsons from the coat hook in the hallway whilst Horacio switched records once Elvis had finished.

Javier lowered Horacio’s hat into place, encouraging Horacio to do the same with his.

“Satisfied?” Javier asked once they resumed their embrace, the cumbia beats of Lucho Bermúdez now replacing Elvis.

Horacio’s fingers slid from Javier’s waist to the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him forward until their lips met and the brims of their hats jutted together. “I am now…cowboy.”

They let another vinyl play before undressing, every movement sensual and considered as they removed boots and unbuckled belts between slow, thorough kisses. With hats relegated to the couch for now, Javier untied the silk bandana from Horacio’s neck, teasing smooth fabric along the nape and tossing it to the floor, revealing faded tan lines from the unforgiving summer months. Buttons from their plaid shirts were next, followed by jeans and underwear, chestnut lost in charcoal as they stood bare in each other’s arms but for the silver and gold pendants.

Neither felt the need to give into temptation, not yet, at least. Instead, they put on another record and danced, hand in hand, skin against skin, soul against soul. Because they were never in a rush anymore; now they had all the time in the world. Now they were home.

#Narcos fic #Narcos #Javier Peña #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo #Pedro Pascal #Maurice Compte #Narcos fanfic #Narcos fanfiction #Narcos fan fic #My Fan Fic #My Narcos Fic

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lenafromthenordiccoven · 1 year ago

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Cool Down Time - Bob Floyd x afab!reader

(moodboard by me, Lewis Pullman pic by retosterchi, found by @up-thereinthesky, rest unsplash.com)

Title: Cool Down Time

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick (2022)

Pairing: Bob Floyd x afab!reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: When the first actual heatwave of the year hits, you suggest a little bit of an unconventional method to cool down with your favourite aviator.

Warnings: temp play, body worship (is that warning? Idk), oral (m!receiving), light dom/sub undertones (with Bob not being the dominant one), swearing, I just want to fluster one (1) man, okay?, not proofread, we die like rebels

Wordcount: 2346

Read on ao3

A/N: My city’s got the first heatwave of the year and I’m miserable. So, naturally, had to come up with a way to distract myself. If not entirely cool down – reasons why I kept this shorter than I had originally planned. *ahem* Also, I apologise for the horrible title. I couldn’t come up with anything better xD (Also, also, I apparently like having characters beg. Oops.)

You flopped down on the couch with a groan while Bob closed the front door. You could hear him chuckle at the way you’d shed your jeans shorts and T-shirt in the hallway on the way to the living room.

“It’s too damn hot!” you grumbled into the pillow that was quickly warming to your body temperature in a failed attempt to defend your actions. Not that you really needed to. Bob was usually the last person you would have needed to explain any of your motivations to. It simply was too hot. San Diego got hit by the first heatwave of the year and you crumbled like a dried-up leaf under a magnifying glass.

“Well, you’re not gonna feel any better if you heat up that couch, darlin’,” Bob said from where he was basically towering above your head. When you shifted your head to peer up at him, your eyes followed a couple beads of sweat that trailed down the side of his neck and pooled in his jugular notch. You could feel your mind drifting to somewhere very different, but Bob’s voice pulled you back.

“Hm?” You raised an eyebrow at him, not having caught any of what he’d said. But given the way he looked at you (his head slightly cocked to the side which always reminded you of a puppy—and which you sometimes teased him for), it was clear that he’d asked you a question.

“I asked how much water you drank today.” He raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for your answer. Although you were sure, he already knew it. Not enough. You never drank enough. Well, water.

“Not enough. Probably,” you replied, grumbling again this time. Because you knew what would happen next.

Bob sighed and then motioned for you to get up. “Alright, up you go. Off to the kitchen. Both of us.”

You didn’t even try to hold back the whine as you pushed yourself up and climbed off the couch. You padded after him, noting how his backpack had left a big stain of sweat on his back. You were about to reach out your hand and trace the muscles of his back that were starting to peek through the fabric stuck to his skin. But then Bob stopped in front of the fridge-freezer-combo, opened the freezer compartment to get out some ice cubes and your heat-plagued brain spit out exactly one idea.

“Actually, babe…” You began as you stepped closer to Bob, starting to snuggle up to his back. “I think, I just had an idea how we could maybe cool down a little.”

He turned around to face you, ice cube tray in hand. You reached past him to close the fridge door and then nodded towards the ice cubes. And you could have sworn his skin flushed a darker shade of pink underneath the light sunburn. “You’re not suggesting …?” He nodded towards the ice cubes and quirked an eyebrow.

“I am suggesting temp play, baby, yes.” Your lips stretched into a grin when he blinked rapidly and averted his eyes. Even after having been together for a couple years now, you still got a rise out of Bob getting shy when you suggested something new in the bedroom. Ironic, really. Considering he’d had more experience when you’d first started dating.

“I don’t really see how that could help us cool down exactly,” Bob mumbled. But you could see the mischief glinting in his eyes. After all, how could he say no to one of your suggestions if it meant, he got to worship you? If anybody would have asked Bob how deep his feelings for you ran, he would have had no qualms telling them that he would worship at the altar of you for the rest of his life. Especially if it meant he got to hear you utter his name over and over in that mixture of a scream and a sigh he always drew from you when you climaxed, and when you didn’t give a fuck about whether your neighbours heard you.

You raised an eyebrow in response to his mumbling—and the thousand-yard stare now on his face. Then you gently took the ice cube tray from his hand, before laying your now cold fingers against his cheek. He jerked in response, blinking rapidly. “Where’d you go just now, handsome?” you asked with a seemingly innocent smile. You had an inkling where his mind had wandered off to. The same path yours had when he’d first taken the ice cubes out. It made your smile widen into a grin as his gaze drifted down to your lips for a second.

He cleared his throat, then stretched out his hand for the ice cube tray. “You know, where. Let me just get something to put these ice cubes in, so they don’t go meltin’ on us before we’re done, alright?”

The ice cubes clinked against the glass as you fished one out, the water dripping from your fingers landed on Bob’s now naked chest and he jumped at the sensation at first. But then his body relaxed under you and his gaze locked onto yours.

“You okay?” you asked with smile tugging on your lips, anticipation making your nerves sing before either of you had even gotten very far.

Bob nodded, laid out on his back on the bed, his boxers the last remaining item of clothing on his body. “Just cold at first.”

“Shocker. This is basically ice water by now.” You leaned down until your face hovered maybe an inch above him. “Just don’t buck me off, cowboy.”

“Not makin’ any promises.”

When you gently let the first ice cube rest in his jugular notch, he jolted underneath you again, lips parted in a surprised gasp that faded into a sigh as you then let the ice cube wander up his throat just underneath his jaw. You ground your hips slightly downwards and then caught the resulting groan tumbling from his lips with your own. His hands ghosted over your panty-clad ass and up your sides where one of his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer against him.

You chuckled. “You’re gonna have to let me go if you want me to continue.”

His arm tightened around you in response as he mumbled against your lips: “Not that I’m not looking forward to where this is gonna go, but I just really like havin’ you on top of me like this, darlin’.”

You could feel heat creep up into your cheeks as his words brought up memories of countless times of when you’d had him underneath you like this, with you setting the pace for once as you rode him. “Stop trying to distract me.” You sat up as he loosened his arm around your waist and let his hands wander back to your ass. Just as he squeezed your cheeks, you slapped his chest lightly.

“Oh, am I?” His lips twisted into smug version of the lopsided, lovesick smile you usually got from him. “Sweetheart, I think, you should get another ice cube. This one’s almost gone.” You could see the mirth dancing in his blue eyes.

“Shut up, Lieutenant, and let me do this at my pace.” To ward off any attempts at a reply, you picked up the ice cube – Bob wasn’t wrong about it having almost melted away completely against his heated skin – and pushed it past his lips into his mouth. His lips closed around your fingers, he hummed as he swirled his tongue around your fingertips and then lightly bit down on them.

You swallowed hard at the sensation while your brain and heart took off at the speed of lightning and you found yourself grinding your increasingly wetter core against his clothed cock. “You gonna be a good boy and behave?” you asked before you removed your fingers from his mouth, lifted yourself up onto your knees and leaned over to fish another ice cube out of the glass.

“Yes, ma’am,” was his only response besides another hiss as you let the new ice cube circle his right nipple. Though he did whine in protest when you moved off of him to kneel beside his body on the bed. Then, ignoring the ache burning low in your lower belly at his sounds, you took the ice cube between your lips and began tracing abstract patterns onto his upper body. All the while you tried to keep eye contact, which he broke the first time you inched close to the hem of his boxers and his abs tensed underneath your touch.

Your lips twitched into a smile as he kept his eyes closed and he tried to keep his breathing under control. You slowly let one of your fingers wander along the hem of his boxers, before you tugged on them and Bob dutifully lifted his hips, so you could get them off. He’s half-hard cock slapped against his abdomen, and you watched his brows pinch as the tip landed in a drop of ice water your ice cube had left.

“Sweetheart, please.” There was no need for him to say more. You knew, he needed you to touch him. But you wanted to draw out the build-up a little more. Call it some good-natured revenge for all the times he’d riled you up and had you panting with just fleeting touches of his fingers and lips.

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of you, baby. Just be a good boy and keep your eyes on me, okay?”

You blinked up at him innocently, kneeling between his legs, the sight had him whining. One of his hands came up to cradle your cheek and you nuzzled into the touch, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“You’re always so good to me, Robby. Wanna do the same for you,” you whispered.

He nodded and his hand fell away from your face as you settled in between his thighs. The first gentle kiss you pressed to the inside of his thigh drew a gasp from him. When you took the ice cube from where it had been sitting in his navel and lightly ran it over the junction of his leg and torso before briefly ghosting it over his balls, you got another jolt and a louder “Fuck!” as a reward. The usually lighter blue of his eyes had turned to something darker as his lust-blown eyes stayed locked onto you as if he’d locked onto a target in the sky. Finally, you put the remainder of the ice into your mouth, let it melt on your tongue and cool it down.

One of your hands came up to grip the base of his now definitely hard cock as you licked his tip, humming at the first beads of precum you could taste. “You always taste so good, baby,” you purred.

“Could say the same thing about you. Please, sweetheart. Need your mouth on me. Please, pl—” His words got caught off by a lightly frustrated groan when you tugged on his cock but kissed his stomach instead of wrapping your lips around him.

You chuckled, then hummed while you licked the underside of his shaft from the base to the tip where you pressed another faux-innocent kiss to his cock. When you did finally wrap your lips around him and began to bob your head up and down, Bob’s face twisted in pleasure as he struggled to keep his eyes open and on you.

“Fuck. Thank you, darlin’. You’re so good to me.” You clenched your thighs together at the praise, unable to deny the effect his reactions had on your own arousal.

While you kept bobbing your head, trying to alternate between sucking him off, stroking him and licking, it didn’t take long for Bob to turn into a writhing begging mess underneath you. The ice cubes left in the glass were forgotten as you made it your mission to get him to cum in your mouth. One of his hands tangled in your hair as his hips buck upwards at an uncontrolled rhythm.

“Shit, Y/N. ‘m close, so close. Don’t stop.”

And he kept his word. A couple more bobs and a fleeting touch against his balls had him shooting off into your mouth as your name repeatedly tumbled over his lips. You swallowed everything, helped him ride out his orgasm.

His chest was heaving with every breath as he came down and relaxed underneath your touch again. You kept the kisses to his body and the touches of your fingertips light, gentle so as not to overwhelm him. His hand that was still tangled in your hair tugged lightly, signalling for you to crawl back up his body.

He pulled you down onto him and kissed you, humming contentedly as he tasted himself on your tongue. “Thank you, darlin’. That was … really fuckin’ good.” His voice was hoarse and somewhere in the back of your mind you hoped the neighbours hadn’t come home from their vacation yet. You didn’t exactly want to deal with a knock on your door right now.

You quickly left another peck against his lips, your hand resting over his heart absentmindedly tracing shapes onto his skin. “Glad you enjoyed yourself.” You smiled down at him and his lips twisted into that smug smirk again.

One of his hands came to rest on your hip while the other cradled your head—giving you no other warning when he suddenly flipped you over onto your back, so he could hover over your body. “I think, we still have some ice left in that glass of ours. Let me show you exactly how much I appreciate how well you take care of me, darlin’.”

You giggled as he stooped down to steal another kiss before fishing for an ice cube. While your activities didn’t exactly cool you down, they at least took your mind off the scorching temperatures outside for a little while. And who’s against having a little fun, really?

#bob floyd x reader #robert “bob” floyd x reader #bob floyd x afab!reader #robert“ bob floyd” x afab!reader #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x you #sophie writes #fic: cool down time

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underratedandoverit · 1 year ago

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You Wanna Wish Away Your Sins (3/3)

After losing to Best Friends at Arcade Anarchy, Kip undergoes shoulder surgery. One person reaching out to him afterwards sends Kip spiraling, turning all the pain and suffering in him into… Flowers? Flowers growing in his lungs?

Kip Sabian/Chuck Taylor. Hanahaki disease. Angst. Hurt/comfort. Emotional hurt/comfort. One-sided attraction. Also tagged this from now on with manipulative Kip.

Marked Mature on AO3 for general content. Warnings for mentions of hospitals, surgery, medical stuff. Described feelings for choking and vomiting.

Other characters on-screen include Penelope Ford, Orange Cassidy. Rest of Best Friends are mentioned. Background ship of Penelope/Kris is heavily implied, but never specifically shown.

part 1 || part 2

On AO3

Finishing this took way longer than I intended. Oops. Mental illness and whatever be damned yada yada. But it's over now. And I am content. It's a whole fic and ended just as I wanted and had planned, surprisingly no surprises during writing lol. I hope it makes sense, there's a little bit there that doesn't get explained, but I have convinced myself that people can put the pieces together considering the mental state Kip is in and how the hanahaki disease works so. Yeah.

If you have read this far, thank you so much, I really appreciate you and your patience if you have waited for this to finish since I originally posted in early September. I see all the kudos and subs attached, they mean the world to me. Would love to hear your thoughts of this now that it's over, as there was a lot of time (obviously lol) and love put into this, so it would mean a lot ;; But I appreciate you all so much either way, thank you for sticking by and reading!! 💜💜

@midnightpretenders0 @stormbornpirate @ss-trashboat

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Kip tried to keep his eyes on the television, but he wasn’t registering anything he saw on the screen. Even if he was technically interested in watching the game that was being played, Kip would have much rather been looking at something else. Or someone else. That someone being the man sitting on the couch next to him, being much more into the activity of playing a video game that he was partaking in that Kip was.

While he was glad that Chuck was coming over far more often these days, at the same time it did grind Kip’s mind that they had fallen into this false routine of a casual friendship. Chuck would appear on his doorstep, bring a movie or a game with him for them to busy themselves with that day, maybe some snacks and energy drinks, and the rest of the day they would just hang out, consume the media of the day, and that would be it.

Same talking points every single day. Sitting in the silently designated spots on the couch just far enough from one another that even by accident their hands wouldn’t brush against each other unless they were passing the food and drinks around. Eye contact was brief, almost uncomfortably so if it managed to exist in the first place, and only when one got up from the couch and asked if the other needed something or something similarly surprising happened. Maybe a laugh could gather a quick glance, maybe a sneeze, a cough. And even then it was more often Chuck doing that to Kip, while Kip was trying to steal looks into his direction any chance he could, hoping Chuck would catch a hint.

It had been days, weeks even, maybe. How many, Kip had lost a count somewhere after the first few days, partially because of the pain he was going through, partially because he still found the whole situation so absurd. But the thing he knew for sure, was that it had been too many for comfort.

Every time Kip watched Chuck walk out the door of his house again at the end of the day, his breathing became a little bit tighter, the stabbing pain in his chest more prominent, the sleep during that following night a little shorter.

He was so tired of it all, and with every day that passed him by, it was pushing Kip closer to the realization that he finally had to do something about things. Before the pain was too paralyzing, before the thoughts became too much. Before he just couldn’t do anything about it anymore, before it was all too late.

“…Hey? Kip?”

The Brit blinked blankly a few times, finally registering the voice calling out to him after the words had been repeated a few times. His eyes slowly dragged away from the television screen, facing the brunet sitting on the couch next to him, Chuck looking at him with worry and concern. It was almost adorable to Kip how his brows furrowed and eyes darted around his facial features in clear worry. Almost.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

Chuck sighed, Kip trying to offer him an apologetic smile as he watched Chuck running a hand through his hair, eyes turning away from the other man again as he shook his head a little. Kip had been too deep in his own head, with his own thoughts to notice Chuck had even tried to talk to him, the guilt almost immediately gnawing on him at the mere thought. He was supposed to try to pay attention to him, to try to make Chuck realize the situation, how close they were, to understand his feelings, to close the gap, to --

“I just wanted to know if you were hungry. We could order something in, maybe. If you’d like.”

For once Kip was thankful that Chuck wasn’t looking straight at him, his cheeks flushing red for a brief moment as he registered the words. Ordering food? Together? At his place, like this, out of the blue? For the first time?

It almost sounded like a date night proposal in Kip’s ears.

He quickly shook the thought from his head, turning away from Chuck to make sure he didn’t even by accident catch a glimpse of the blush decorating his face, desperately trying to not have the words caught in his throat, only partially succeeding.

“Ye-yeah that would be great.”

Chuck was so sincere about this question, just like he always was about everything, he was probably just hungry himself, and Kip was overthinking it all. Once again. But also, what if…

“Great. What would you like to eat?” Chuck’s words cut Kip’s thought process off again, his eyes slowly returning to the other man, watching Chuck pull his phone out of his pocket, eyes landing onto it, seemingly to avoid eye contact with Kip, who just shrugged a little. “I don’t know. Whatever sounds good.”

Chuck’s brows furrowed, suddenly looking back at Kip, making the Brit jump a little. This wasn’t the kind of reaction Kip had expected to his words, swallowing a little surprise lump in his throat as all of a sudden he was very unsure again where this was going. He hated nothing more than the unpredictable nature of their relationship, not being able to read Chuck at moments like this, mostly due to his own emotions and thoughts clouding his judgment and understanding of what the situation called for from him.

“…Okay, I’m going to be fully honest with you.”

The suddenly rather serious tone of Chuck’s voice made Kip’s eyes widen a little, he could feel his whole body tensing up at the sudden shift. Chuck offered him a small smile, most likely in hopes of trying to calm down Kip’s very obviously surprised demeanor, but seeing that smile just made Kip’s whole mind skip another beat instead.

“I’ve been worried about you recently. I actually talked with Penelope yesterday after I left, and she feels much the same way as I do.”

Chuck? Worried? About him? Chuck? Kip’s head was spinning, but he just nodded his head, not even acknowledging the fact that Chuck was also talking about Penelope being involved in this. All Kip cared about was that Chuck was thinking about him, outside of this room, outside of this couch, when he wasn’t around.

Chuck was thinking, and talking, about him.

“You’ve been… Seemingly getting worse each day I see you. You lack sleep, you lack food, you lack energy. I understand you are in a lot of pain with the shoulder and all, but you need to take care of yourself, Kip. Mine and Penelope’s help will only get you so far.”

Kip just looked at him quietly, trying to process the statement in his head, but all his thoughts retracted back to the overall realization that Chuck was worried about him. Thinking about him. That Chuck at least seemed to care more than he led on directly to him, at least before this very moment at hand.

“If there’s something wrong that you need help with, other than what we have been providing so far, you shouldn’t be afraid to ask, you know?”

Kip felt his head nodding itself, despite not approving of the movement in his mind. He was running on a practiced autopilot, still afraid that one casual movement might fuck all this up for him, not being the kind of response that Chuck wanted. This seemed to be enough for the brunet for now though as Chuck nodded back at him, eyes slowly returning to the phone in his hand. Right, he was ordering food. Right.

“So, again: what do you want to eat today? You can get anything you want, as long as it makes you eat. We just want to make sure you take care of yourself.”

At the same time it was endearing that Chuck was doing this for him, but Kip also knew he had to put a stop to this, all of it. While yes his current and constantly worsening condition was making him neglect his own basic needs, both which directly as a result affected his appetite and energy levels, Kip knew that trying to eat some proper food one day wasn’t the answer to his problems. Above all else, his condition was making it not only difficult to breathe, but the pain in his chest and particularly in his lungs made eating at this point a near impossible task.

As the silence from the Brit continued, Chuck glanced towards him, spotting Kip just looking back at him. Whether he was deep in thought or just staring, Chuck wasn’t quite sure.

“Kip?”

“I’m not hungry.”

At least it wasn’t a lie in a sense. Chuck raised a brow at him, slowly lowering the hand holding his phone onto his lap, eyes narrowing a little. Chuck’s eyes lingered on him just a little bit too long, forcing Kip to look away, back towards the television with the frozen game pause screen on it.

“You need to eat something.”

“Food can’t fix this.”

Kip could feel the confusion radiating from Chuck’s face, probably his entire being at this point, but he just couldn’t look back at him. It was so much easier for Kip to process his thoughts if he wasn’t looking at what he was sure was a very worried expression on the brunet sitting on the couch a few feet away from him.

He heard Chuck sigh. Not a very good sign.

“If you eat something, you get energy. You feel better. I shouldn’t need to explain all this to you. Kip, please --”

“This isn’t about food.”

Chuck fell silent as Kip cut him off, probably a bit more aggressively than necessary, but he was tired of this. All of this. Both his inability to do anything about the situation even though he desperately, so very desperately needed it, and the way they both seemed to just dance around the topic and the issues at hand. To Kip, Chuck offering to order him food was nothing but a detour that he couldn’t afford to wait to take to where he eventually needed to be. Kip had suffered long enough, mostly due to his own faults, yes, but Chuck jumping in to push his buttons like this, while a step in the right direction, wasn’t a fast enough track to where they needed to be.

Where Kip needed to be if he wanted to make it through all of this, it seemed like.

“…Are you mad at me?”

Kip’s eyes narrowed a little, but he still didn’t turn to look towards Chuck. All he heard was another quiet sigh.

“I don’t know how many times I can apologize for what happened. You know it was an accident. I’m sorry --”

“I don’t want you to apologize. I don’t care about that.”

If something, it was supposed to be Kip who apologized for everything, and he knew that painfully well.

“Then what is it?”

Kip swallowed thickly, being absolutely certain that Chuck could not only see it but also hear him do it. Kip’s eyes slowly dragged back to him, watching the confusion all over the brunet’s face. If the situation wasn’t so dire and heavy, Kip would have found the look on him endearing. Right now though, seeing Chuck not put the pieces together so easily, filled him with dread instead, along with the knowledge that Kip knew exactly what he needed to do next and the can of worms that he needed to open if he ever wanted to have a shot at things getting better again.

“I need…” Kip stopped, the confusion on Chuck’s face slowly melting into a more expecting look. Both of them were still clearly hesitant, Chuck not knowing what to expect out of him and Kip not being so sure how he was going to phrase this so it made even some sort of sense.

Just say it.

“I… I need you to kiss me.”

The silence that fell into the room felt like it was knocking all the remaining air out of Kip. The longer he looked at Chuck and the unreadable look lingering on his face after the words slipped out of Kip’s mouth, the worse he felt about everything. For once he was being honest about this entire situation and what he wanted out of it, and yet it felt like a worse mistake than anything he had lied to Chuck about so far.

He wanted this. He needed this. This was the trigger Kip had been so afraid to pull for so long now, but he knew that if he didn’t finally say those words, no matter the reaction, it would have terrible consequences for him. He was already suffering, the roots of his problem crawling deeper into his lungs every single day he put it off without even trying to make anything out of it. Kip was tired of it, he was suffering immensely because of it, he just needed to do something. Anything.

After what felt like forever of Chuck just staring at him, Kip was snapped out of his thoughts as Chuck took in a sharp breath, the only way Kip was able to describe his expression being polite confusion.

“You, uh… You what?”

Not sure if Chuck was just making sure or if he really hadn’t understood the statement, Kip bit his lower lip as he turned away from the other man. He inhaled slowly, preparing himself to say those words again. Kip did it once, he could do it again. It was a necessary step forward.

“I-I need. To kiss you. You to kiss me. So-something like that.”

As Chuck didn’t reply for a while, Kip stole a quick glance towards him, trying to gather an overview of the situation. Much to his surprise, Chuck looked like he was in deep thought for a second, as if he was pondering over the request. At least he wasn’t outright denying it from Kip, which in turn as he realized it, made his heart jump back into his throat.

The burning as Kip nervously waited for an answer was worse than the thorns poking inside of his lungs at the moment.

“Would that help? Make you feel better?”

Kip nodded almost instantly, the motion almost frantic, something he couldn’t control. Still clearly in his thoughts, Chuck nodded as well.

“I mean,” he muttered, a hand slowly reaching closer to Kip, the Brit’s focus turning on it with slightly widening eyes, “If… If it helps. I guess.”

Kip watched his hand stopping to hover close to him, slowly his own hand reaching for it. He could feel Chuck’s fingers gently wrapping around his hand, giving it a little tuck, an invitation to come closer. Kip followed suit, shifting over on the couch to slowly make his way to sit down right next to Chuck. For the first time since they had started doing this, for the first time since Chuck had started to spend the days over to keep him company. There had always been a cold, untouched gap between the two of them on the couch, but this was the first time it had been broken, filled, fixed.

And all it took was a small request that Kip should have been able to do in the first place, but it took him weeks and actual concern from Chuck to get to this point.

But there he was now, Chuck still gently holding his hand, running this thumb over his knuckles. A soft, still kind of unsure smile crossing his lips as he was looking Kip straight in the eyes. Chuck clearly wasn’t budging back on this, honestly much to Kip’s surprise, as his free hand slowly crept up to the Brit’s face, palm pressing against his cheek. Chuck’s hand was surprisingly cold against his flushed skin.

“…You sure?”

It was almost as if Chuck was asking that from himself more than Kip, but he pushed the thought aside, just nodding his head again. Without another word, Chuck leaned closer, finally closing the gap that had been antagonizing Kip these past few weeks without remorse, locking their lips together.

The kiss was awkward and hesitant at first, but slowly it felt more natural as they both seemed to relax into it. Soft and homey, but Kip could taste his own desperation in it despite all of it. He knew how badly he not only wanted, but needed this. While he could have joked that it was the matter of life and death, to him it was actually no joke, but merely the cruel reality he barely understood himself at all. Feeling Chuck’s lips finally against his, after the excruciatingly long amount of time of craving and needing nothing more than to taste him so desperately he was suffering from the withdrawals more and more every day, Kip’s mind went blank. He could feel Chuck close, hear his breathing, slowly allowing himself to enjoy it, running a thumb over Kip’s cheek.

Kip had been waiting for this moment for so long, craving for this so badly, that he needed more now that he finally had it, pushing the boundaries first as he found himself without a single coherent thought giving a small bite on Chuck’s lower lip, a silent, desperate request for a deeper kiss. A deeper meaning.

A request that was granted to him, but was also almost immediately and far too fast ripped away from him as Chuck suddenly jolted away, as if he had suddenly in the midst of all of this realized what he was doing and thought better of it.

Eyes opening as Kip felt the hand disappear from his face, he leaned slightly back, watching in emotions swimming in disappointment and confusion as Chuck’s eyes were suddenly on his phone again, the piece of tech buzzing on his lap, suddenly demanding his attention. Almost as if it was mocking Kip and how close he had finally gotten.

“So-sorry, I have to take this.”

Kip just nodded, feeling the body heat of the other man disappearing from around him as Chuck’s hand left his, grabbing a hold of the phone before he stood up, answering the sudden call. He could still salvage this, it wasn’t all lost. Chuck hadn’t denied him this, by the way he was acting it was obvious to Kip that this wasn’t just all in his head. Maybe the kiss had been brief, but there was compassion behind it, he was very gentle about it, there --

“What do you mean that was today?”

Kip’s eyes slowly traveled up to Chuck, watching the brunet run a hand over his face as he sighed. “Yeah I know, I know you need me there for that, just… I was kinda in the middle of something…”

The silence that followed that statement and the way Chuck couldn’t look back at Kip made a familiar lump climb its way back in his throat. Kip tried to cough it out quietly, not to attract attention to himself, just watching as Chuck stepped a little bit further away from him.

“I can be there in twenty minutes, I guess. …Alright, I’ll see you then.”

As he hung up the call, Chuck didn’t even need to say anything. He was sure Kip had heard most of it, and the apologetic eyes and the small smile he offered to him as he finally turned back towards the Brit really didn’t help the case.

“Sorry, I completely forgot we had a photoshoot to do today, I… I gotta go.”

Kip nodded his head, but remained silent as he stood up from the couch. At least this was a start, they were going somewhere. He had put at least part of his desires out there, for Chuck to reach out and react to, if nothing else. This was a beginning, hopefully for the better. Kip wasn’t sure how fast he was supposed to be feeling the effects of his love and affections being returned to him, but so far he was blaming the sick feeling in his throat on the sudden change of pace in the room rather than Chuck not returning his feelings like before.

Maybe he had read all of this wrong. Maybe the sickness had caught up with him just because he didn’t know this was mutual. That had to be it, right?

Kip walked him to the door, Chuck turning back to him again as he rested his hand on the door handle.

“Look, I’m really sorry I have to go, I just completely forgot about this. You know, with having to worry about you and all.”

Kip could feel a smile tucking the corner of his lips, allowing at least a part of it to show. As sad as he was having to watch Chuck walk away yet again without a resolution to this whole problem, at least there was hope. Chuck smiled back at him, leaning closer to press a quick little peck on Kip’s lips, catching the Brit off guard, leaving him looking back at him with wide eyes as Chuck opened the door, stepping outside.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow, alright?”

Kip could only nod before Chuck closed the door, leaving him standing there, heart racing and beating loudly between his ears. Kip leaned against the closed door, inhaling deeply before he sighed, the content smile on his lips only wiped away as he coughed softly, eyes shooting open to witness the handful of purple tinted rose petals he let out of his mouth.

No.

Chuck Taylor still didn’t love him.

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

“…Are you sure it’s him?”

Cassidy shrugged his shoulders a little. “I mean, who else could it be? Besides, he has photos of himself that he signs and hands out and a big board on the table with the name ‘Kip Sabian’ on it, so…”

Chuck sighed, running a hand over his face before rolling his eyes. “You could have led with that information, you know.”

Cassidy didn’t reply back to him, just observed the brunet on the couch through his sunglasses. “I thought you would have known. Aren’t you two friends or something?”

Chuck avoided looking directly back at him, trying to make it seem like the question didn’t sting. He hadn’t seen Kip since that day, he never opened the door when Chuck came over the following day or answered any of his calls or texts since. He had been living in complete darkness over what had actually happened with Kip, even Penelope refused to tell him anything apart from a general ‘he’s fine’ every time Chuck asked her something.

“I told you, that was months ago.”

Cassidy just nodded, stopping to observe Chuck as the other man just tried to focus back on lacing his boots. After a long, lingering silence the blond broke it as he spoke up again.

“Do you want to go see him?”

Chuck stopped, eyes slowly dragging up to Cassidy again. He seemed sincere in that question, and if Chuck was being honest, that had been the first thought in his mind since Cassidy had waltzed into the locker room with the news that Kip had been sighted inside the building. The premise seemed rather odd to him, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have put something like that past Kip. A silent man with a suit and a cardboard box on his head, doing a signing that hadn’t been advertised for anyone beforehand. Sounded like it was just down Kip’s alley, in some really weird way, to him.

“Is he still there?”

“Probably,” Cassidy shrugged again. “He seemed to be just setting up when we went into the cafeteria like twenty minutes ago. I doubt he has left yet.”

While he wasn’t quite sure how to take any of it, let alone how Kip was going to take it if he showed up, Chuck nodded a little, still a bit hesitant. Cassidy mirrored the movement, before nodding his head towards the locker room door, asking Chuck to follow him. Not that he didn’t know where the cafeteria was in the building, they had walked past it when they had entered earlier, but maybe his hesitance was on the surface enough that Cassidy thought taking the lead was going to make him regret this less. Make it easier for him.

Chuck followed Cassidy outside, tracking through the hallways for a moment before they arrived at their destination. It was extremely easy to spot the individual not belonging into the group of people in the big, bright, well-lit room, the man standing in the middle of it all by a large table messed up with multiple scattered photos around it, hands behind his suited back as he was observing the room through the eye holes poked on a box over his head.

Chuck swallowed thickly. It didn’t matter if he didn’t see his face, all that was enough for him to recognize him immediately, no matter how many months it had been since or how much things had changed between now and then.

He was so focused on reading the words on the front of the box that Chuck didn’t notice the eyes inside of it land on him. The distance made it a bit harder, sure, but the lights were bright enough and the dark circles surrounding the eyes made them pop for Cassidy to notice the stare at first, even if it wasn’t directed at him.

“Hey,” he muttered, carefully elbowing Chuck to the side to get his attention. “He sees you. I think you should at least go say hello.”

Blinking himself back to the situation, Chuck glanced at Cassidy on his side, the blond just shrugging at him a little. Maybe Chuck’s nervousness was obvious, maybe Cassidy quickly put two and two together from what Chuck had told him before about how their last meeting had ended, but he only sighed, once again leading the way towards the man in a suit and the box, Kip’s eyes never leaving Chuck as they approached. Chuck on the other hand tried to look at everything except him, until he was stopped to stand right in front of the other man he hadn’t seen in months until now.

Through the eye holes of the box Chuck could see his vacant stare just blankly staring back at him, saying it all without saying anything at the same time. Kip looked at him briefly, before providing a photo from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, pulling a marker seemingly out of nowhere along with it. He scribbled something quickly on the photo, handing it to Cassidy, and walked away without looking back or acknowledging either of them further.

Cassidy looked at the photo for a moment before handing it over to Chuck. It was an old promo picture of Kip, in his Superbad gear, with his face crossed over with a red marker and some messy text scribbled next to him.

‘Time changes us all. Embrace the change.’

#setting: hanahaki #fic #character: kip sabian #character: chuck taylor #character: orange cassidy #ship: chuckkip #fic: you wanna wish away your sins #aew fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction

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tears0fsatan · 1 year ago

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♰ ・ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇!

✦ ⊹ ˚˖ warnings... dead dove do not eat, gn!reader, spoilers for lesson 35 whoops, brief stalking mention, scent kink, established relationship, obsession, body horror, unhealthy attachment to a corpse

:¨·.·¨ ♥︎ a.n... I'M FINALLY WRITING SOMETJIMG FOR MY NUMBER ONE BABYGIRL CAN I GET A WAHOOO??!???!! BONUS BECAUSE SHES WEIRD!! AND A LITTLE UNSETTLING!!! (this turned out sadder and more romantic than i thought lol oops) srry that this is so latebtw i've been doing uh teenager stuff lol <3

#﹏𖣠ㅤHEART SHAPED HICKIES MASTERLISTㅤ. . . ㅤ !! ( ☠️ )

from the very moment she had caught a whiff of your scent in her lair, thirteen was hooked. it didn't take a genius or a powerful existence to sniff out the stench of other living beings that had trespassed her den. amongst the familiar smell of demons and that pesky sorcerer, yours had stuck out like a sore thumb, so much so that all thoughts regarding your illegal trespassing flew out her mind.

perhaps it was because she was a reaper, but she could practically taste the life that seeped into your scent. for someone who was neither dead nor alive, hell was it addictive.

she just had to seek you out, there was no way someone brimming with so much life could escape her grasp now that she had her sights on you. whenever she wasn't busy watching the life candles or coming up with new fun trap ideas, she couldn't resist the temptation to follow and watch your every move. after all, when would another human who smelt so good and wasn't a sham of a sorcerer come down to devildom and pique her interest like you did? she needed to have you, needed to trap you somewhere where only she could see you, where only she could be with you.

there were nights she found herself craving you and your scent, despite her plan still in the works. there moments where the thought of leaving all her work behind, to sneak in your room and take you away with her and live out the rest of your lives together (or more so, your life..). an itch to steal the clothing she saw you wore often made her feel restless, but she was nothing if not patient and told herself she'd wait until she was closer to you.

eventually, the two of you were bound to run into one another at RAD, but that moment didn't come nearly soon enough. so, the reaper took matters into her own hands. she waited for the moment you weren't surrounded by those clingy demons to make her move, making it seem as though it was completely coincidental and not carefully thought out on her part. gosh, you were so much cuter in person, she had fantasised the moment she could finally talk to you dozens of times and you went beyond all her expectations.

this was perfect; without realising, you were slowly playing into her trap. the reaper made sure to play up a facade, one that would keep you curious about her and have you coming back to find out more. she played the role of a trickster until you tied the strings of your heart around her marionette controller all on your own accord, swept away by the sweet words and barrage of attention from such a pretty, powerful being. she had you in the palm of her hand and you were more than alright with it.

there was an ornate fear that constricted thirteens heart, or at least a reaper's equivalent of one, something she feared for more than anything else in all three realms. as a reaper, she was far too aware of how short human lifespans were and how much shorter it would be around her and it terrified her. now that she had you in her grasp, she couldn't afford to lose you. there were unspoken lengths she was willing to go in order to keep you next to her, even if it meant breaking the laws of the three realms.

while humans were satisfied with a life together until death parted them, for a reaper, even death wouldn't be enough to part ways. being surrounded by death, the very being that watched over every human from the second their flame lit to the moment their light blew out, it was hard to form an attachment when such lives were fickle and could go out at any given moment. thirteen knew that, she knew that one gust of wind could easily put an end to you and everything you had lived for and so she wanted to cherish what short time she had left with you.

the day you died, many souls died with you. the reaper lost all control and threw a rage, at the other living beings who wouldn't understand her pain and at the world for making her kind so detrimental to human life. it was unfair, unfair how you had just started out your life and now you were gone, unable to spend many more of your firsts with thirteen. she didn't even have the chance to show you just how much she loved you.

not a day went by where thirteen didn't take care of your body, washing your body with extra care and dressing you in your favourite clothes, keeping your appearance the same as it was the day you died. even as your flesh began to turn all sorts of hues, she still thought you looked as beautiful as the day she lost you.

your body, now lifeless and cold, a mere shell of the human you once were, could no longer support the weight of your head and slumped forward onto thirteen's shoulder whenever she would pick you up. the reaper held onto every inch of your being left, afraid that if she let even a hair shed, your entire existence would cease to exist, as if you had never been here in the first place.

your eyes were always something she adored, something that left her speechless and the first time she got to see them up close and in person, she was left in awe. by now, she's stared at you long enough to determine that yes, stars do swim in your eyes, and never missed the opportunity to go stargazing. even after your eyes became blurry after your death, they never lost that sparkle that she fell in love with in the first place.

how could she resist pulling you into her arms and dance along to inaudible music when you looked so beautiful? even though your skin was icy to the touch and your joints refused to move from the rigor mortis, she still enjoyed holding you close and swaying to an unknown rhythm. especially on nights when the moonlight would peer into her lair and cast a shadow on your features that just ever so slightly make you appear alive, she would dance until the sun took the moons place and brought her back to reality.

nevertheless, until the moment she reaped her last soul, she would continue to love you and keep you by her side, no matter the cost.

#READ TWS #៹ ࣪˖. 🎧 light mode﹒☆#៹ ࣪˖. 🎧 special﹒🂾#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me x reader #obey me x male reader #obey me x gn reader #obey me x you #obey me thirteen #thirteen #thirteen x you #thirteen x reader #thirteen x male reader #thirteen x gn reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #dead dove do not eat

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eyedove · 1 year ago

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alright whats up fuckers get timelined.

you want your deep taagnus fankid lore, this might be the only spot ya get it for a while. also included: a little on lup's first kid, a LOT on taako having a bad time in general, some relationship details btwn taako and magnus past and present, casey character development to follow it up, and then a little bit on the twins. the, like, little twins, i mean. the ones that taako and magnus have.

warnings for taako’s general, like, everything: identity crisis, his issues socializing, loneliness, depression, gender dysphoria (weirdly enough, not pregnancy related), his experience with chronic pain, and later being diagnosed with a connective tissue disorder, which in itself is not a trigger warning but moreso his dealing with it is not particularly healthy and could be sort of self-harm-y in a way. and for magnus: his RSD is mentioned, his self-worth issues are alluded to, mentions of past self harm, he gets very emotional about family planning in regards to past relationships, his death is eventually mentioned but isn’t part of the timeline nor is it gone in depth on.

in general they’re also just… taako and magnus. they’re kind of shitty guys and kind of immature and kind of fucked up. they’re good to their kids, they’re just still, y’know. taako and magnus.

i can not stress enough, pregnancy and issues relating to this. difficulties conceiving and postpartum depression are IN. HERE. everything turns out and everyone involved is perfectly fine, it just takes some time to get there and it’s a rough road, but they ultimately end up doing it twice and they’re both pretty firmly in the camp of it being worth it.

anything else that needs to be mentioned please let me know holy shit and i’ll exercise my best judgment, cus i know some of it might be wild to read, but i want to get triggers down for the most part. stuff that’s not triggering, like… oops, sorry, but. it’s taagnus mpreg what do you WANT FROM ME. if i listed everything that people might not like it would just be another 6k words.

basics:

lup’s first kid, missy, is about 5 years older than casey, who was carried by taako, and is about 3½ years older than elodie, who’s a few minutes older than rian, both of which were carried by magnus.

tl;dr coming soon. and by tl;dr i mean a shorter version that’s been picked through and had all of the bullshit unnecessary garbage taken out. :)

timeline:

- after story & song magnus and taako do not talk for like a year. it’s rough. they correspond a little, magnus sends him funny good things he finds like fuckin. silly chainmail messages and pictures of stuff he thinks taako might like, but he’s trying his best not to overstep any boundaries. taako has not actually established these boundaries. magnus has just sort of assumed them. unfortunately, taako is not a guy who goes out of his way to go to magnus’ place of residence and yell at him.

- but he doesn’t keep it up forever. he does go fucking find magnus. and he does go yell at him. and magnus does kind of have a fit about it. but it’s fine. it’s taako, and he also knows that getting down here was probably. a hell of a lot. and he does appreciate it.

- they immediately click though. because of course they do. and a year and change is a long time for them to go without each other while also actively knowing that they’ve gone without each other. it’s weird. taako one minute is living in lup’s empty ass house because she’s at work and kravitz is at work and he hates everyone who has any time to spend with him, and then the next, he and magnus are picking out like. the color of the accent wall in the livingroom. what kind of flooring should be in the hallways. (magnus wants hardwood, taako refuses to go with anything except shag. carpeting.)

- it’s sort of nice! taako stays a homebody but he’s not completely disconnected. weirdly enough, he sees more of lup. and kravitz. and barry and merle and davenport and everyone. mostly because he doesn’t avoid outings as much. and because he starts going to parties. and goes fishing with davenport. and gets all of his and magnus’ weed from merle that he felt too fucking sick to sit home alone and smoke himself. magnus still has like, a business to run. and taako kind of does, too, sort of, even though he’s been really fucking that up recently and taking a huge backseat on accident.

- anyway, they settle. taako’s doing okay. magnus is doing okay. they had already decided years and years and years ago they weren’t gonna get married and EXTRA aren’t gonna now. magnus doesn’t want to get married again. taako hates it as a concept. it’s complicated. but they’re together. it’s semi-open. taako occasionally sleeps with other people. rarely. listen, he barely goes out, let alone fucks around, and magnus knows it.

- lup has missy like 2 yrs after taako moves out. which does mean that she got pregnant only like a year after he left (elven gestation w/ their slow ass metabolisms), which he’s a little peeved about, but whatever, he gets it. he’s happy for her. he’s not as absolutely gutted as he thought he’d be if it ever happened. is he numb? he can't tell.

- turns out he's… not? maybe? yes, taako being dissociated and numb usually results in being a little more blase about stuff than hed normally be, but he feels. in it. he has an attachment that he's used to having, because it's lup, and it feels almost natural again. almost? there is no way he's picking this feeling apart. they will remain complicated forever because a child is definitely not something that he has to confront (all lies he knows he knows better.)

- weird concept: so how about confront it?

- taako is weirded out by this Thing. lup’s proud of it, though, and magnus is immediately and irreparably damaged by holding this baby, taako can see it in his stupid face, the way he just fucking. grins. and tears up and holds this thing so gently. lup is looking at taako like do not let this guy squish my baby, i’ll kill you, and taako’s just thinking the whole time, yeah, i get it, but like. fucking look at him.

- anyway rightfully she doesn’t let magnus hold the thing for more than like ten minutes before she wants it back but it’s fine - they all relax, taako worries about something else for a change, gets his heart ripped out of his body still beating by this thing crying, everything’s good.

- and now he’s obsessed. partly just with missy, lup’s baby, because she’s hilarious and she’s cute, and she literally just keeps getting FUCKING cuter, but partly with the idea of. baby. like. he could have one of those. he’s got everything for it. like, a house, and a boyfriend, and… financial stability. emotional stability? yeah, man! like, he’s super getting there, isn’t he?!

- he and magnus talk one night. taakos literally sat on his chest over the top of him and starts asking him abt this fucking coffee table lup bought when she first moved into her house, and magnus is like oh yeah, i like that thing, it’s really cool, i kinda wanna make one just like it, but it feels like it’d be copying, at this point. and taako’s like holy shit EXACTLY. exactly correct. but what if we did anyway. just, like, in our own. way. y’know? it’d be different if we did it. we could handle it. we have space for it. if we both worked on it maybe we could like. take care of it. sides, it’d be nice to just. have more shit that has some of you. in it. that will last a long time. so i don’t have to like, go out and replace it later, and i… know that it’s from you, and everything, y’know.

- anyway they keep having this conversation. like, every day, taako brings this up. talks about hey, listen, i know that this is uncharacteristic. you gotta take me seriously here, though. i’m so serious. and magnus is like… serious about… buying a coffee table? and taako’s like NO. i mean maybe, if the conversation must go in that. direction. later, but we’re fucking. capable, are we not?? of doing it ourselves? or we should at least find out?

- eventually magnus asks him, hey, are we… talking about… the kind of coffee table. that you and me, have, uh, tried to make. before? and taako goes LOL, tried?! no. we’ve never had the time or resources to get it like, anywhere near a real project. pal, have we maybe accidentally started on it, and then had that shit totally made useless like every other bodily state ever over and over for ninety nine years? i genuinely dunno man, if we have, that’s between our respective guts, the coffee table, and god only. and magnus just goes ohh. so we are definitely talking about the same thing. okay. oh wow.

- they decide they want one! theyll fucking. build a damn. coffee table. okay.

- and so they start! and they work on it! and they fucking! try! they do eventually get to the point where they can say aloud that they’re trying for a baby. it takes an embarrassingly long time. they are not known for their healthy communication. but taako forces it out into the light eventually. he's okay with being silly about it on a basic level but listen, someone has to rein magnus in a little bit on that. a little. (magnus actually hadn't expected taako to go for it, calling what they're doing having kids, so it's a huge surprise and an extremely positive one, because as much as he's stalwart in the idea of honoring the concept, he also kinda gets it.)

- they don't tell people at first. this is entirely because they KNOW people will be weird about it. but the moment he needs someone to complain to he tells lup and then it quickly gets around elsewhere - which. fairly, most people are kind of skeptical. it’s taako. taako? child? lup, though, kinda knows. she still has early adulthood memories of conversations complaining about the world and guys devolving into if i ever have kids... and how early on taako did show interest. how it kind of became a thing he stopped talking about over the decades. she believes him. and her believing him makes it easier for everyone else to kind of fall into place about it.

- and taako has a few freakouts. a couple total meltdowns. but they got it. they get it, after almost two years. they get it down, and both of them flip their absolute FUCKING lids but taako way moreso than magnus was expecting in any way shape or form. yeah, it was taakos idea. yeah, its taako whos carrying, so hes probably way excited about it. he just didnt expect such an explosive reaction out of him. given that he's, y'know. taako.

- literally every problem taakos ever had becomes an issue. his bullshit tolerance is now: none. his energy level is now: none. his heat tolerance is now: none. his blood pressure is now: none. his ability to cook and feed himself is now: uhh, very little. which that second thing is not super abnormal, but the first one kinda sucks more than usual. this also peaks right in the middle of summer. hes convinced hes dying. (hes not. they absolutely make sure hes not.)

- he DOES like having a good excuse to make everyone else do everything for him. not a huge fan of the genuine doting, but having someone on call for a bucket any time any where is a power he didnt know he wanted. he doesnt use it genuinely very often, but magnus is GREAT at coming when called, and thats funny.

- they pointedly do not know the sex. it is partly performative. it is partly because taako is in the THICK of a gender crisis (had been before he got pregnant even, it hasn't gotten particularly worse, but it's still there) and if someone in his life found out and started prescribing shit even on accident or coincidentally based on the thing's genitalia he'd fucking lose his shit, so they just don't know, they're not gonna know, it's not a big deal, leave him alone.

- taakos naturally a toe walker. not abnormal for elves from the two sunned plane. their feet are just built for it. he manages to maintain this for a little while. he's always fluctuated in weight, he's fine - but his balance does indeed get so bad, even with his tail, that he has to start walking on his whole foot so he doesn't lean forward.

- this makes him like four inches shorter than usual. this makes him like five inches shorter than magnus. this makes him SHORTER THAN LUP. and he fucking. despises it. he's still taller than magnus BARELY when he has his ears straight up but this is all he has, and those ears rarely stand up for any long amount of time without extreme effort. they’re HEAVY.

- it does make magnus hugs nice though. magnus won't bearhug him + break his back anymore for the time being, which he misses, but he gets to stuff his face into magnus' chest. which he likes. hes starting to think MAYBE. maybe after he has this baby he MIGHT occasionally get down on his heels just so he can do this. SOMETIMES. but only around select people. there are only a handful of chests hes cool with being smothered in. magnus definitely tops this list.

- it fucking HURTS his HEELS. fuck his ankles or whatever, his heels!!!! he's not used to putting any weight on them. theyre bruised and blistery and he hates it. magnus will now be carrying him forever. (he says this but ends up being the most hermited motherfucker of all time, worse than taako's normal, which is not good, but whatever. people like to come over to HIS HOME and BOTHER HIM, so he doesnt need to go to functions he can't drink or smoke at anyway).

- he is, however, feeling really fucking good about how fucking AWESOME he is, currently. like, one, everyone had to admit that he’s taking things super super well, and two, he’s being SO open right now. he’s being so chill. he’s being communicative, he’s being honest. he’s not being NICE because that’s just not on the table for taako, but he’s kind of enjoying having a good excuse to be a little more snuggly. a little more needy. sometimes. when he’s not so pissed off he could scream.

- magnus is a fucking. wreck. hes good! hes doing good! but hes crying ALL the TIME. and its PISSING taako off slowly more and more. he knows its just because hes worried or overwhelmed or whatever. who cares. its annoying. he is nice though. maybe the nicest hes ever been to taako. there are a significant number of people who are being nice to him, actually, which is hilarious, and also extremely frustrating. LUP. even lup wont fuck with him in the same way. he has to keep pressing her buttons harder and harder to get her to react. HOWEVER: one person is still ready to pick on him.

- lup's 5 y/o daughter. is RELENTLESS. and honest to god one of the most stable and delightful things throughout the whole pregnancy. this kid has only the vaguest idea of what's going down, is extremely nice, but also compromises NO asks. if she wants him to make her breakfast she WILL cry about it. if she wants to play with his hair, she'll figure out how to do it, even if shes gotta ambush him. great tenacity on this girl.

- they have casey, their first kid, spring-ish? early spring. they have her at home. it sounds like a great idea at the time, and it turns out perfectly fine, but there is the ego barrier of describing to people the story of your firstborn child being PLANNED on being delivered by a lich and the grim reaper along with the boyfriend and then ending up getting stagefright. this is good, you might think, this means grubby corpsehands aren't on your newly born child! and you would be correct, instead it's just magnus, who is crying MORE than the baby and taako combined and it's FUCKING annoying, and lup's not even there to make it funnier. it's fine. it's like, bonding. and shit.

- shes small. smaller than taako would have thought and also would have hoped, and shes bald, and her ears are fucked up somehow, they dont have anything, like, in them to move them around or whatever it seems like, but maybe she'll grow into that. maybe that's fine. not a whole lot of info out there currently on babies who are half alien elf half alien human. so yknow. as long as she's eating and breathing and warm and clean they're pretty happy.

- taako can not let this thing go. magnus occasionally gets to hold her or feed her, but for her first nine/ten days, taako has her almost exclusively and wont put her down. he started sleeping later into his pregnancy because it required less effort than meditating (altho it takes more time), but hes back to it now, so he can keep this baby, who he has still not named btw!, in his arms and remain alert enough to sleep with her.

- two weeks. three weeks. she's FINALLY getting a little bigger. MAYBE taako can manage to have people over to see her in person instead of just showing photos. maybe. the amount of people that technically know about this kid's existence even is a ridiculously low number. the amount of people in the public that knew he was having a kid is most, since he made a statement about it, but the kid herself was never, like. announced. he just doesn't. want to share. at all.

- gets rough. gets really rough. having lup and missy over nearly kills him. he cant even let his TWIN SISTER hold his baby. what the fuck is wrong with him? what is wrong with their relationship? why does he feel like it somehow makes him a better parent when it does not? why has he lost all control of what emotional stability he had? he'd been worried he wouldn't be attached enough to her, that he'd fuckin, abandon her or whatever, and it's so nice that that fear was unwarranted that he doesn't want to confront that he's overcorrecting.

- missy gets to hold casey before lup does. and taako feels bad about it, kinda. BUT: she didn't technically hold the baby on her own, taako just held her while missy put her arms under her as well, but still. then lup. this was a few visits in. casey is still not technically named yet, but taako knows already. kinda.

- she gets her name by two months. it's not elven, like he and lup had, but it's got the same basic rules, which is a compromise he and magnus come up with. once she gets old enough, if she wants something else, she fuckin' names herself. if she wants something else for like. gender purposes, they'll deal with that when that comes up. for now she's casey. burnsides? maybe.

- she stays FUCKING BALD. taako can not get over it. he has hair. magnus is COVERED in it. why's she bald? why's she SO BALD?

- magnus is audhd and taako is autistic. they know that she's gonna probably not necessarily follow the average infant timeline. this turns out to be extremely true. she's very quiet. she makes noises, but even as she gets into multiple years of exposure, she doesn't speak common or elvish, except repeating certain phrases she's heard often (some of her favorites are calling magnus mean names and 'i don't want to', because the former makes her parents laugh and the latter makes uncomfortable situations resolve a lot of the times it's used).

- she also doesn't walk. ok, she kinda walks, she gets up on her feet and uses walls and objects to walk alongside them, or walks slowly with a leg to hold onto. she's very particular and delicate about her foot placement, but still ends up with her ankles out. magnus thinks she might be rolling them? but she seems okay? they get that checked out, though. definitely. make sure she's not in pain or anything. she ends up with some braces for her ankles and heel, but she's still more than a little pigeon toed.

- casey is a shy little thing. very observant. she likes watching people do things. literally anything. she will sit and watch taako cook, she likes to watch the aquarium, she likes to watch people write and draw and cast spells, she likes making other people play with her toys so she can watch. she sleeps with taako and magnus more often than not, either being held by taako while he meditates or lying between them on the mattress once she gets a little older.

- missy ADORES her. missy is a little upset that she doesn't like dressing up and having her hair played with, but she loves casey's dark red hair, thinks shes super cute, loves her floppy ears, just adores her. this is, to her, her baby sister, and taako and lup do nothing to dissuade that. basically are sisters, right? who cares. they live right next to each other, and see each other almost every day, since taako does a lot of watching them during the day now, which… admittedly, he's still working on, but he's got like 8 years of experience by now, three of those with his own baby, so he's. like, getting it. he's understanding it.

- this is around the time taako starts hiring out losers to watch the children (or child, sometimes just casey). ie he makes angus do it when possible, or alum he's still pals with from some of the first years of the school's establishing, or other family friends who are around. merle's off limits. as is she who shall not be MENTIONED in his household.

- with a tiny bit of time alone magnus and taako find out that … they want another kid. taako brings it up. another baby. oops.

- again, taako brings it up, but magnus is fully on board. except… hold on not really: shit was ridiculously rough on taako specifically, and he’s really, really not excited to have taako go thru it again. which is fair. definitely in the top 100 shitty wild things that have happened to taako, if only for the relative novelty of it and how much it sticks in his memory (haw-haw), but like. he wouldn’t say it if he wasn’t willing to do it one more time. like, just once. he’s got it in the bag now, he knows what’s up. plus, he would not at all mind having like. a year off. of just being sick and hanging out with casey and missy. magnus is skeptical. their decision is easier this time, though, even with everything considered.

- they talk about it briefly but they’re pretty into the idea of magnus carrying, maybe. if they can get it to work. they had some fuckin issues last time, so, like. what if they start trying (stressful but cool), see if it sticks (lower amount of stress, more casual) and if it does that’s cool, and if it doesn’t, oops, must be something that’s not gonna happen? magnus is an older guy at this point, which was factored in but ultimately didn’t keep them from giving it a shot. once again they start trying without actually telling. anybody. except each other. mostly because it’s not set in stone.

- funnily enough? performing in this way specifically gives taako weird dysphoria. there’s also a little scene in which magnus, who’s been out as nonbinary for like, 15 years at this point, talks about how he’s totally cool with carrying a child, doesn’t bother him, he’s nonbinary, NOT that it’d be weird if a man did it, because you did it taako and that was fine, and that also makes taako squirm a little. he’s working on it. he’s spent so fucking long getting that like, femme in a masculine way thing down, why’s it bothering him now?? ugh.

- luckily, doesn’t take a whole lot of trying. unluckily, taako is a little annoyed that magnus gets pregnant so easily. whatever. he still gets his baby out of it. (yeah, casey is his baby, this baby is their baby, since he can’t claim it all himself, but it’s still definitely partly his, duh. casey is just his though.)

- angus starts doing babysitting stuff for casey. taako ALSO ends up getting his GODDAMN… joints checked out. fine. whatever. for casey, because she’s having issues with her joints too, obviously, and he can talk about how he feels slightly more than his mostly nonverbal toddler. he’s forced himself to be verbal over the fucking. centuries. so he gets it. he can handle maybe informing whatever genetic thing she’s fucking got, cus he’s kind of always known that lup doesn’t have nearly the same difficulty he does with chronic pain. so this is on him. this is on him now.

- taako gets himself a nonspecific hypermobility disorder diagnosis. so, like, sweet, i fuckin guess, he’s gone like 300 years without it. also, they don’t even have an actual name for it. thanks. feels awesome. after years and years of forcing it down, he’s forced to actually pay attention to the pain and it Fucking Sucks. not a project he thought he’d be starting on while magnus was pregnant, but whatever. it’s fine. life is FINE.

- magnus is actually faring really well. which is also jealousy-inducing in taako. anyway, magnus is sort of miserable about how low energy he is, suddenly, though, but that’s about the most of it, since his brain doesn’t slow down to match the pace of his body. not in the traditional sense, anyway. taako does not understand what he means by this because to him magnus is still bouncing off the walls. he is, however, a great source of humor at the time (as he fucking ALWAYS is, taako always finds him ridiculously stupidly too fucking funny for him to even be REAL, ugh).

- double appointment day. taako sends casey off with angus, and they’re gonna do… whatever they do. he’s given angus some free rein on what he does with the baby. he kinda trusts angus’ instinct. a little more than he did when casey was an infant, anyway. this is a decision he will eventually regret, because while he is getting the shit annoyed out of him by being quizzed on his pain and fitted for digitigrade AFOs he doesn’t want to use (the other braces recommended arent as bad since his like, fingers aren’t so different from most people’s, it’s just just feet and legs that need extra special shit) and then getting slammed with the major whammy of the fact that up until now magnus has been RIGHT: they’ve been missing a TWIN at past appts, and twins are now for sure confirmed. plus, angus is doing unspeakable things, ie he has been introducing casey to lucretia even though taako has said this should not be done at all. today, lucretia makes the mistake of seeing if taako has been teaching her elven sign language.

- magnus is beyond stoked, taako is torn between being excited and being extremely, outrageously jealous because if one of them was going to have twins, it should have been him, goddammit. but whatever. they tell the relevant parties: ie again it stays mostly under wraps except to really close family.

- casey continues seeing lucretia. it’s not a SECRET, it’s just not being said out loud to taako, exactly, is angus’ reasoning here. they both know that it’s going to get out eventually - and it happens sooner rather than later, for sure. what ends up breaking it wide open is one night taako is watching casey and she makes a motion at him that he’s absolutely certain at first is a sign, but it’s just mixed in with a bunch of other hand waving and other movements she’s prone to doing. so it can’t be. plus, he hasn’t been teaching her elven sign. nobody has, have they? So after she goes to bed, taako stands in front of magnus and makes the same series of movements - nonsense and all, and gets confirmation from magnus that it looks a lot like sign language, but magnus denies teaching it to her.

- lup also denies teaching it to her. lup and taako haven’t used it in tens of years, and when they aren’t using it, there isn’t a reason for the other birds to use it, given that it was mostly used for taako to communicate. plus, very few people on faerun use it, given that it’s a language that doesn’t even originate on the goddamn plane. she’s not learning it from angus, probably. probably? FUCK.

- taako confronts angus about it and he immediately folds and tells taako everything on lucretia’s behalf, because he knows it’s going to get rough if they have to be in the same room together. taako is. devastated. and angry. but angus explains to him that he’s always there, he makes a super good middle man, casey LOVES lucretia, they get along really well, she hasn’t been telling casey anything controversial. casey isn’t even old enough to like, get lucretia’s life story. she’s not getting lucretia propaganda, taako. but she has been um, maybe, using elven sign language, because they thought maybe you’d been trying that, too, because she hasn’t been verbal. Taako confirms he has NOT been, he hasn’t used it since cycle 99 started, because he had it fucking TAKEN from him, is the thing.

- but magnus also starts using it again. starts speaking in ESL to casey. taako gets mad about it, but he can’t deny that it’s much more comfortable for him most of the time, and that he can use his limited energy being more expressive bodily when he doesn’t have to curate his voice specifically like he does when talking aloud. magnus is into it! and he makes sure to tell taako this. taako starts using ESL more. a little. to see if casey will pick it up.

- casey does pick it up. casey picks it up much easier than common or elvish. she has some coordination issues in her hands like taako does, exacerbated by her being like four, but she can communicate a little better and it’s. weird. it’s weird. taako is weirded out by it. but everyone else in the house just keeps - even lup gets in on it, so…

- he gets to talk to casey more. it’s so sweet. she’s an asshole and he loves it. she is a lot like taako in so many ways. it is a weird thing to witness. she’s not exceedingly social. she’s kind of . aloof. which is something he knows he’s been accused of, but he didn’t really get it until he saw literally his fuckin. weird self reflected back at him. he realizes pretty quick that she’s definitely a person. she’s fairly independent and at this stage ENJOYS sleeping in her own bed. she likes the routine of brushing her teeth before bed. she hates socks (so does taako), she loves bugs, but she’s scared of dogs. she likes magnus’ woodwork, but doesn’t like powertools, and has next to no interest in magic, but she does like watching taako cook - she also has strong opinions about food, which taako is a little frustrated about at first, but soon finds is fun to work around. he likes flexing his cooking creativity for the first time in years.

- taako fucking. eventually uses his braces, but only because he wants casey to also use them. she has such a hard time walking and he absolutely hates the idea of her being in any amount of pain, much less pain comparable to what he went through as a kid before he made himself deal with it quietly. neither taako nor casey are big on the sensory input these things provide, but they get through it together. they are just kind of on the same wavelength when it comes to sensory overload - so even if taako doesn’t realize it, given that he’s had hundreds of years to perfect masking even to himself, once casey’s had about enough of it, taako can pretty reliably tell that it’s probably time for him to give himself a break, too, if he can manage it. she’s helping him out a lot, even if she doesn’t exactly know it.

- that winter is when elodie and rian are born, in that order. not at home this time, which magnus is a little indignant about because he’s the tough guy here, but ultimately there’s not a whole lot of fight about it. this is partly because magnus burnsides is a bird, and gets whatever he wants, and if he wants a parade of like 20 goddamn people present, nobody, not even a medical professional, has the power to stop him. this time, names were picked out beforehand, mostly because magnus was DEAD SET on not waiting until they were multiple months old. they get these names assigned to them in the same way casey did - as child names, if they want to change them, or permanent if they don’t, or whatever the hell they want to do. magnus takes immediately to calling them duckie and goose, respectively, because he knows that everyone will back him up if taako tries to tell him he can’t call his newly born children what he wants to call them as nicknames. (they do fight about it. everybody is, indeed, on magnus’ side, if only because they’re tired of the naming scheme taako is perpetuating, here.)

- he has also been calling casey bunny for a few years at this point because of her floppy ears (taako wouldn’t let him get away with ‘dumbo’ any longer), so it fits the theme. (he later gets a duckling, a gosling, and a bunny tattooed on him. they can change their names all they want, but their childhood nicknames are his forever now!)

- magnus, uh, DOES have a little stint of oh god what have i done. turns out that weirdly enough, having taako baby him a little bit makes him feel better. having taako be kind and surprisingly understanding about his feelings is weird and puts him on edge at first, but really, taako was like this when he was pregnant, too, where he’s a little more open and a little more emotionally available, so it’s not super surprising in a way that makes it impossible to believe that taako’s actually willing to give him space to grieve and think and worry and wonder.

- elodie and rian are also digitigrade, but their ears are more solid. not quite as mobile as taako’s, but they have some muscle in them instead of casey’s little floppy thing she has going on. they’re cute and all, but the biggest thing taako can’t get over is the fact that they are both born with hair. istus just keeps fucking kicking him while he’s down. magnus doesn’t even worship her, what the fuck.

- they’re both VERY LOUD. casey wasn’t a crier, the twins are. they’re loud, they’re rowdy, they’re babies. they’re, like, real babies, and not little weird creatures like casey. casey is a bug, not a baby, elodie and rian are infants. taako has already set a precedent of being a nighttime caretaker, given that magnus needs 8 hrs of sleep/night and he needs 4 hrs of meditation. so this continues, for the most part.

- yes, they have two infants. they also have a little girl who is now getting finally also fitted for orthotics which is cool. she’s also learning ESL. magnus, taako, lucretia, and lup all know it. basically everyone in her life knows sign language. magnus is a little rusty, but he’s taking like. ‘lessons’ from taako. this is also being taught in moderation to the twins, but the twins have their own shit going on between each other. taako gets to watch these things develop twin language WITHOUT HIM. it’s fine.

- lucretia becomes a slightly more… common… occurrence. he sees her at parties and gatherings now - they start being invited to the same things. they’re not involved with each other closely, but they’re adjacent. they talk SOMETIMES. if there’s a buffer between them. mostly at these gatherings, and only when taako’s sober. the moment he’s imbibed anything magnus physically gets between them. it becomes missy and casey’s jobs to watch the twins and magnus’ to watch taako to make sure he doesn’t say or do anything too fucked up.

- elodie is a huge casey fan. loves casey to death, but they have the sibling dynamic going on where casey is so focused on being fully enamored with an looking up to missy that she sort of ignores elodie, and elodie is so focused on casey that she ignores missy, who just wants everyone to be friends together so bad.

- the twins are definitely a step up in complicated parenting. casey was a good first step. somehow? got what is the beginner-friendliest baby. some fucking how. these guys, though. elodie is a very curious kid, a very energetic kid, a very intense kid. playful, extroverted. chatty even when she doesn’t have like. language down yet. rian less so. rian’s more like casey in this regard. less chatty. needs a lot of quiet time.

- magnus used to have a stim where he would ball up his fist and slam it into his chest or shoulder, which definitely, definitely was not good for him, given that he eventually got very strong and was giving himself some pretty gnarly bruises and lacerations with it. he also used to (still does, but slightly less) deal with really bad RSD. it kind of fucks him up watching rian go through the same things. taako is just kind of like “yeah, dude, the dark mirror, we’ve all been peering into it” and magnus is like wow. huh. this is wild. i’m sorry, little guy.

- rian ends up sharing a room with casey once he’s old enough (not permanently, but it’s an option for him). he does better in a quiet environment and elodie is not super conducive to this, but casey is, with her also preferring no loud or repetitive sounds. she also relies more heavily on ESL than the other kids, which rian uses with her quite often while he feels more pressured into speaking verbally to others.

- by this time magnus has made casey what he calls her rabbit hutch - basically, as a toddler, she always ended up like, under her bed, or in her closet, or what have you to sleep. taako’s solution to this was ‘oh baby come sleep in my bed then’, but she didn’t want this, so magnus makes her a little doghouse style thing. A canopied bed, but with solid walls and a weighted base, and a tighter space inside. it doesn’t last her into her teens, but she does use it a lot as a little kid. it’s like a permanent blanket fort. taako’s embarrassed that his daughter lives in a fucking dog house his boyfriend made, but she loves it - and eventually starts letting rian in there, too.

- elodie also likes going in there but 3 kids can’t fit at once, and also she gets bored really fast so most of the time it’s casey and rian time only. and they just sit silently in there.

- listen i have a ton of twin lore in my brain but it’s very difficult to put down in a concise way. i’ll get it out. some day. til then have basics. elodie is a big girl, she’s a tough little girl, she likes being able to help out her mama. (even taako is not allowed to call magnus this. elodie and rian, however, are. for taako is it papa strictly. papa bear will also be tolerated. encouraged.) she loves AXES. she wants one so bad. she’s like six and it’s all she wants for every gift-giving event ever is a REAL AXE. taako and elodie absolutely have a Real Sword type conversation. elodie thinks it’s hilarious, but also kind of frustrating because no, dad, she really does actually want a real axe.

- elodie ALSO isn’t really a dog person. they’re okay! she likes them! she’s just not like, dog obsessed. despite magnus’ best efforts, she does not develop canine special interest, which he’s a little sad about, but it’s okay, because he does eventually get it with rian, thankfully. SOMEONE fucking likes dogs in this goddamn household.

- elodie does however LOVE their cats. she’s neutral on the fish and shrimp (did i mention they have a huge saltwater tank. they do. taako raises shramps). she wants a goat. she’s not the pony kid, that’s rian.

- rian is fucking obsessed with animals in general. he loves casey’s stuffed animals. he loves garyl. he loves dogs, especially the big rough guys, mostly because they can handle some roughhousing. he and magnus wrestle, which magnus loves, and they do a lot of work with the dogs, which is GREAT, because by the time rian is 8 or 9 magnus really, really just wants to get back to working regularly, doing dog training and stuff, and he loves having angus and rian around to help.

- OKAY ALL I REALLY KNOW BEYOND THIS IS THAT casey gets really into rollerskating. she likes drawing, but doesn’t stick with it. she likes roleplaying games. taako and lucretia are keyword kinda reintroduced to each other’s lives after a LOT of strife and a lot of fuckups. casey lives with taako for quite a while. idk about the twins yet, but i know that casey is not really ready to go do her own thing for quite a while, and even after she does move out, she’s always got her dad on speed dial, and out of everyone in the universe once magnus is gone, she is one of the only people he will ALWAYS pick up the phone for. every single time, doesn’t matter what he’s doing.

ta da there’s more, obviously, but like. this is where i’m at. currently. with my fucking. six million words (realistically more like 40-50k, it’s hard to compile when it’s spread out across many text docs and google docs and shit.)

#taagnus #taag bbs #pregnancy #pregnancy w #I MEAN IT AS PREGNANCY WARNING BUT PREGNANCY W IS ALSO TRUE KINDA. IDK HOW TO TAG FOR THAT BUT ITS IN THE DAMN TEXT BODY TOO SO LISTEN #caseyposting...#i think that counts as caseyposting.#ask for trigger tags seriously. but it is also all under a readmore with a trigger list beforehand. so.

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miscfandomwrites · 1 year ago

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Mama: Chapter Fourteen

A/N: Turns out I haven’t posted a new chapter in months. Oops. Anyway, here y’all go

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mom! Avenger! Reader

Warnings: mentions of killing, fighting, possible cursing,

Words: About 1k

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

My body absorbed the recoil and I followed the body as it dropped. Then found another one to shoot.

13. Thirteen men were killed in the span of two minutes. Eventually they learned not to go outside, but that didn’t stop me from scoping the ones I was able to shoot inside. Or switching to the thermal scope and doing the math of those who were close enough that the bullet would reach them through the wood, and those who were just out of my range.

After a couple seconds of not finding anyone, I was nudged by Barnes. I glanced over to him, giving me a hand signal to move in. I turned my comms back on and was flooded by the voices of my team. Everyone confirmed their positions and started the assault on the compound. I kept my eyes trained on the compound, sensing Barnes pull out his own rifle and get into position next to me, starting to help pick off the soldiers as we saw them. Explosions from both inside and outside the compound were heard and seen, and I turned my focus on observing the place as a whole.

Watching the rest of the team weave in and out of the building, the explosions and small fires starting, and hearing the muffled gunshots reminded me of my time in the Marines…as well as my wife.

“(L/N), we need you in this. They’re everywhere and hiding inside.” Steve’s voice rang through the comms as I kept searching for more agents.

“Explains the lack of agents I’m seeing. Do you need me anywhere in particular?” I asked as I started snapping the mounts off my rifle and getting off the ground, reloading until I had a full cartridge.

“Just go and kill the bad guys.” Barnes spoke up from beside me, shouldering his rifle. “We’ll head to the middle, keeping cover for each other until we’re able to get into the building. Since it’s the front it’s a guaranteed death sentence with the sentries, but we should be able to get it under control.”

“Should?” I questioned, packing my pockets with more ammunition for both my rifle and pistol.

“I’m just going to say that we’re probably going to run out of ammunition. Quickly.” He told me as he started down the hill we were set up at.

Tailing him, keeping back about a dozen feet, we got to the first set of decent cover. They were short, cement walls that reminded me of the barriers you saw separating the oncoming traffic from the opposing back home.

Kneeling down, Barnes across me motioned to the entranceway, I carefully peered over and noticed a few soldiers lingering near the front, more inside than outside, there were a few that I could get with my rifle if I got closer, but the rest were too far in to get to until we got inside.

“Why aren’t they helping the others?” I mouthed to Barnes, he just shrugged and made a motion with his hands for us to split apart and then move forward.

I shook my head, his rifle was an automatic and while it could be used for long distance, it was truly meant for shorter distance, as well as the fact his bullets didn’t penetrate as far as mine did. There were benefits to both of our rifles, but it all came down to the fact that mine was a sniper rifle and his was a regular rifle.

“You want to lead?” He mouthed back as I peered over the doorway, observing them for a minute as well as the entrance itself. Two heavy steel doors, coated with rust but stood firm with the Russian winter, one ajar only slightly, probably a few feet, that let me get a good look inside. Then an idea sparked in my mind, so stupid it might just work.

I motioned for Barnes to come closer to me, and once he was beside me I explained the plan, soon enough going on the comms to rope in the team. Once my idea was accepted, they started targeting the specific areas I asked and that’s about when Barnes and I walked straight up to the entrance and walked inside.

Stiff, straight, and with dead-set eyes the (former) Winter Soldier and the Angel of Death walked into the Hydra-infested building.

The soldiers immediately came to a halt, saluting us as we walked past them as if they didn’t exist. We headed up a flight of stairs into what was estimated to be the head of command office. Without knocking on the door, we both entered.

A dark-haired man, about thirty to possibly forty was in the room sitting behind a massive mahogany desk. His dark green eyes locked with mine and I paused, he looked so familiar…

He leaned back into his chair, raising a hand to his chin and staring at us before speaking in a deep voice, “Зимний Солдат и Ангел Смерт�� входят в мой кабинет…” A small smile on his face as he looks us up and down. “И во врагах камуфляж”

(The Winter Soldier and the Angel of Death Walk into my office…and in the enemy's. fatigues)

We both stood there, complacent. The man got up from the desk and circled us, observing us as if we were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

“Разговаривать.” He commanded. (Speak)

“Готов выполнить.” both Barnes and I spoke simultaneously. (ready to comply)

The man stood in front of me, arms behind his back.

“You are not under Hydra influence anymore, are you, Mr. Barnes and Ms. (L/N)?”

Well shit.

#avengers x reader #miscfandomwrites #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #mama #marvel x reader #marvel #natasha x reader

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auroralix · 11 months ago

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✩ fairly odd christmas - part 3 ✩

read parts one and two here!

pairing: you know the drill, this is still chanlix

summary: single and lonely on christmas, felix makes an offhand wish to have someone to love. the man who appears in his kitchen the next morning to make that wish come true is the last thing he expects.

song: fictional ~ khloe rose

word count for this section: 3.1k

warnings: this is so SO sappy, they’re so in love this is so cliche silly goofy, um chan makes a joke about burning the house down, chan also sleeps in his underwear (this fic is true to life) i’m sorry for the sappy cringe (not really) < 33

small a/n: part 3 is here! this is a bit shorter than the other parts which oops ?? but hopefully you guys like it (: this is also currently unedited but that will be fixed later lol

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Things were different after that. And Felix had never been happier.

After that first kiss, he and Chan had grown only closer. Their feelings were out in the open and the awkwardness from before had been completely forgotten in the past.

As Christmas crept closer, Felix and Chan spent all the time together that they could. They’d gone on a couple more dates, but to Felix, the most mundane things now felt like special dates when he was with Chan. They could go grocery shopping at the store and even that could be turned into a remarkable trip. It wasn’t that they really did anything amazing, but their time together, just wandering through the isles and talking about everything and nothing at the same time, made it all worth it.

Felix always hurried home from work, excited to spend more quality time with Chan.

Tonight, he was trying to make it back to his apartment especially quickly as Chan had told him he had something planned that evening when Felix finished work. The weather was getting colder, it hadn’t snowed yet, but Felix kept up hope that he could share a beautiful white Christmas with his Christmas fairy.

His Christmas fairy.

When Felix pushed the door to his apartment open, Chan was there immediately, fussing over him and trying to get him warmed up as fast as possible. But not without smothering him in a series of rapid fire kisses first. Felix adored Chan’s kisses, they never failed to make him feel warm fuzzies inside and he feared he’d never get his fill of them.

“How was your day?” Chan asked, backing up to let Felix shrug off his coat and shoes in peace.

Felix shrugged, nearly tripping over one shoe while trying to hang up his coat by the door. “It was work, I guess. I spent most of today thinking about these plans you have for us and what they could be.”

“You’ll see soon enough.” Chan’s face was alight, and Felix noticed he was practically vibrating with excitement. “Get settled and we can get started in a little.”

Raising an eyebrow, Felix laughed at how hard Chan was trying to stay still. “Are you sure you can wait that long, Channie?”

To that, his fairy just pushed him toward his bedroom, prompting Felix to get changed out of his stuffy work clothes. “I can wait, but not forever!”

Several minutes passed before Felix emerged again, this time in much comfier clothes than his work outfits. He was just a little surprised to be immediately met with the sight of Chan upside down on the couch, feet wiggling as he eagerly awaited Felix’s return.

As soon as he noticed Felix in the doorway, Chan poofed out of existence and reappeared in front of Felix, leaving a cloud of shimmering sparkles in his wake.

“Come on!” He grabbed Felix’s hand and all but dragged him to the kitchen. Laughing, Felix just followed, at the mercy of the spirit that would always be miles stronger than him.

“So, what are we doing?” Felix asked when Chan stopped in the middle of the kitchen. He looked around for clues but nothing seemed out of the ordinary, everything was still undisturbed in its place.

“You’ll seeee~” Chan replied in a cute little sing-song voice as he flitted around the kitchen, grabbing different ingredients and bowls and setting them all on the counter. He gestured to them proudly when he was done, wide grin plastered across his face. “Ta-da!”

Felix liked to consider himself at least mildly skilled in the kitchen, yet at that moment, he had absolutely no idea what was going through Chan’s head with those ingredients. At first he thought it was for bread, but there were no eggs, and then he thought Chan wanted to make cookies, but was missing the chocolate chips.

“It looks… great? Um, what- what is it, Channie?” Felix was trying, he really was, but he was struggling hard trying to figure out Chan’s grand plan.

“The ingredients for pizza dough!” He announced proudly. “I thought we could make our own pizzas and watch those old timey Christmas specials together!”

Suddenly, all the ingredients clicked and Felix felt just a little stupid for not seeing it before. He smiled at Chan’s enthusiasm, forever endeared by how happy the simplest things made the spirit.

“That sounds great! I hope you know how to make pizza dough, because I don’t really,” Felix admitted sheepishly.

Chan just laughed. “Pizza dough is easy, I’ll show you.”

“Of course you know how to make that, too. Is there anything you don’t know how to make?” Felix rolled his eyes fondly. “You know what? I don’t wanna know.”

“You learn a lot being a Christmas spirit floating through the world every year,” was all Chan said, giving Felix a mysterious smile.

Chan showed Felix how to make the pizza dough, with only minimal flour spilling, much to both their surprise. Felix still managed to end up with flour in his hair and on Chan’s shirt, both of them laughing when the white powder flew into the air as they started mixing everything together.

Before long, they’d mixed together the dough, rolling it into circles to load with topping and putting the pizzas into the oven.

“Now we just need to wait for them to cook and we can eat.” Chan grabbed Felix’s hand, once again dragging him back into the living room. “I wanna wait until we start eating to start the Christmas specials, so I thought we could do this instead.”

He reached for the tv remote before turning back to Felix. “Close your eyes.”

“Okay…?” Felix did as told and shut his eyes. “You better not murder me, I’ll haunt you in the spirit world.”

He heard Chan huff out a laugh. “You would, too,” and then a minute later, “You can open your eyes.”

Truly, Felix didn’t know what to expect when he opened his eyes, but he knew his Christmas fairy had a way of surprising him. He blinked a couple times before the sound of Christmas music playing on the tv floated into his ears. Felix just looked at Chan’s grinning face in confusion. “The surprise is Christmas music?”

Chan shook his head, reaching out to take Felix’s hand. “Nope, this is.”

Without another word, Chan tugged him closer, holding onto both hands as he tentatively pulled Felix around in a circle. Felix couldn’t help but giggle just a little. “Dancing? Channie, I can’t dance.”

Chan shrugged, swinging their joined hands between them. “Neither can I, we’ll look silly together, yeah?”

Felix shook his head, rolling his eyes fondly. He was so weak for everything his Christmas fairy did, all he had to do was flash that pretty smile and Felix was crumbling to his knees to keep that expression where it was.

“Okay, fine, but don’t get mad if I step on your feet.”

“I’d never be mad at you.” Once again, the smile Chan sent his way was blinding, and Felix was positive he could light up any and every room he walked into.

Without a moment to prepare, Chan was letting go of one of his hands and sending him into a twirl. It was a small wonder to Felix that he didn’t fall flat on his face as he spun and scrambled to find Chan’s other hand for balance. Chan was there to steady him, a welcoming force when Felix accidentally bumped into his chest and knocked a laugh out of both of them.

“Careful, there,” Chan giggled, wrapping an arm around Felix’s back for a second and using it as an excuse to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Hey, dancing was your idea!” Felix quipped back, no real bite behind his words. He leaned into Chan’s touch for balance before spinning away again, thankfully not tripping over his own feet this time.

Keeping a hold on one of Felix’s hands, Chan ducked and spun under his arm once, still all smiley and happy with himself. Felix just laughed at his fairy’s antics, pulling on his arm to ensure Chan didn’t send them both toppling with the force of his turn.

They spun around, holding hands and laughing breathlessly, the music in the background serving as the perfect soundtrack for their antics. Their dancing was less actual dancing, and more uncoordinated movements and teetering spins and Felix was sure this was the happiest he’d been. He looked at Chan, whose hair was a mess of curls, the black sweater he wore askew to reveal collarbones and the top of one of his shoulders. The smile that graced his face was blinding and once again, Felix was reminded that he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as Chan.

Felix never wanted to lose the brightness of that smile from his life.

The songs changed, turning into the slower melody of a Christmas hymn one might hear at a church service on Christmas Eve. Felix spun again, twirling himself right into Chan’s waiting arms. Chan caught him easily and gently placed his hands on Felix’s waist, prompting Felix to rest his hands on either of Chan’s broad shoulders.

Felix was slightly out of breath, unable to keep the smile from his face as he gazed at Chan. “Hi.”

“Hi there.” Chan’s face matched his own, looking forever enamored with his human. Slowly, he swayed to the music, Felix following along with the light motions.

“Thank you.” Felix’s voice was quiet, like he was sharing a secret that was only for him, Chan, and the otherwise empty apartment to hear.

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed and tilted his head to the side. “For what?”

“Everything,” Felix replied, all too aware of the way Chan’s thumbs gently and absentmindedly brushed across his hips. “You- you’re everything I wished for, everything I could’ve ever wished for.”

Dimples deepening, that beautiful smile found its way back onto Chan’s face, replacing the confusion that had just been there. “Of course, I couldn’t let the prettiest human I’d ever seen go through life always getting his heart broken. You never deserved that.”

Felix leaned in closer to Chan, just slightly. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

He didn’t miss the way Chan’s face started flushing slowly, creeping up his neck and across his face. “I wonder the same thing every time I see you.”

Before he could say something stupid—like “I love you”—and ruin the moment, Felix laced his fingers at the back of Chan’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. The hands at his waist tightened immediately as his fairy kissed him back with no hesitation.

Kissing Chan never got old. After that first one, kisses became regular occurrences between them and the more they kissed, the more sure Felix became that he’d never want to kiss another person as long as he lived. His fairy’s lips were plush, always fitting perfectly against Felix’s own and how Chan held his face or waist in his large hands as if he was fragile glass made Felix feel secure in a way that nothing else could.

He loved Chan’s kisses. He loved Chan. It scared him, probably not as much as it should have, just how quickly he fell for the spirit. He approached this love as he always did, feet first and nary a thought about the consequences of his feelings.

Much too quickly, Chan was pulling away, an apologetic expression on his face. It took Felix a second too long to realize why; the timer over the oven was beeping incessantly.

“As much as I’d love to just keep kissing you, I don’t want to be the reason the building burns down.” Chan placed a tiny kiss to the tip of Felix’s nose before leaving him to take care of the pizzas. Felix just stayed where he was, a lovesick smile on his face as he watched his fairy shuffling around in the kitchen.

He could get used to this. He could get used to this kind of forever, if he let himself think that far ahead. He was already in so deep, he wasn’t sure if there was any coming back from it.

Chan came back into the room, two plates in hand and his ever-present smile on his face. He handed one to Felix, pressing a kiss onto his cheek in passing. “Come on, let’s go sit down.”

“Thank you, baby.” The words slipped out of his mouth before Felix even realized he was speaking. He turned toward Chan, who was looking up at him from the couch with wide eyes, his face a matching shade of red to Felix’s own.

“Channie” and “Lix” were one thing, but “baby” was an entirely different title. Felix wasn’t even sure he was moving until he was sitting on the couch next to Chan, a sheepish look on his face. “I- um, was- was that okay?”

Chan just let out a soft, choked noise in reply and gave Felix a feeble thumbs up. Felix nodded slowly, shy smile stretching across his lips.

“Okay… baby.”

There was that choked noise again as Chan tried not to accidentally inhale the pizza he was swallowing. He coughed a couple times before giving Felix a dirty look that held no true weight. “Sometimes I think you’re trying to kill me.”

Felix scoffed, lightly nudging his shoulder against Chan’s. “I would never, baby.”

“Shut up and eat your pizza before I eat it for you,” Chan grumbled, trying to hide the fact his face was still red under a lighthearted scowl.

Felix leaned over and planted a kiss on Chan’s cheek, smiling mischievously. “Okay, baby.” He barely ducked the pillow that came flying at his face moments later.

•••

It was later than night that Chan got his revenge on Felix.

In hindsight, he really should’ve seen it coming when Chan bounded into their bedroom, launching himself at Felix, who was sitting on the bed and minding his own business while he scrolled through TikTok.

“Oof!” Felix let out a groan as Chan knocked him back into the pillows behind him. “Hi to you too, Channie.”

Chan had him trapped under his body weight, laying on top of Felix and definitely not squishing him at all.

“Channie, get offffff~” he whined, pushing at Chan’s shoulders weakly. “What do you waaaaaant~?”

“Oh nothing,” Chan responded, sounding not sincere at all, his tone giving way to the mischief Felix is now all too used to hearing. He rolled off Felix to lay next to him, smiling innocently the whole time.

“See, you say that, but why do I not believe it at all?” Felix raised an eyebrow and fixed Chan with a scrutinizing gaze.

His Christmas fairy shrugged, scooting closer to Felix and tucking his head against his shoulder. “I dunno, maybe just it’s a you problem, my love.”

And there it was. He should’ve seen it coming, really, and yet, Felix still found himself sputtering and trying not to choke on his own spit.

“I-I’m sorry, your what?!”

“You heard me~” Chan spoke in a soft sing-song voice, sounding all too proud of himself. “Or maybe you didn’t, maybe you have a hearing problem, my love~”

Felix could feel the way Chan was trying not to vibrate out of his skin with happiness at getting him back for earlier that night. He couldn’t help the fond smile that inched its way onto his face, rolling his eyes at his fairy’s behavior. “Oh really? Maybe I do have a hearing problem and maybe you should repeat yourself so I can hear you better.”

The little giggle Chan let out after that was completely devastating to Felix’s heart, there was no way he’d ever be able to move on from that sound.

“I guess I’ll just have to keep reminding you then… my love~” Chan pulled away from his hiding spot at Felix’s neck to give him the biggest smile Felix had ever seen, his eyes crinkling into crescents.

Unable to contain himself anymore, Felix rolled over, pushing Chan onto his back and climbing on top of him. With his legs on either side of Chan’s hips and his hands on either side of his head, Felix leaned down, peppering feather-light kisses all over his face and across his cheeks.

He was more than delighted to hear the symphony of giddy giggles he pulled from his fairy’s lips and feel the warmth of his palms on Felix’s waist as he covered every inch of his face in kisses. This was all he ever needed, everything he dreamt of having with his past partners. The most freeing love, one filled with laughter and one where things flowed easily, not burdened down by unrealistic expectations between them.

Felix had been waiting for the right moment to give a voice to his truest feelings and as he laid kisses on his fairy’s skin and basked in the warmth of his laughter, the three unspoken words didn’t seem so daunting. He trusted Chan, knew he’d never hurt him purposefully. He’d proven himself time and time again in the weeks that had passed since that first meeting.

Chan had been right there every step of the way and matched the energy that so many others found stifling. For the first time in his life, Felix wasn’t scared of being left behind because of his overwhelming love.

“I love you.”

The words were murmured, tumbling from his lips and right into Chan’s ears. There was a split second where Chan froze underneath him and Felix felt that familiar fear trying to climb its way up his spine. Then those strong arms Felix had grown to find such safety in wound their way around his back, pulling him down against Chan’s chest and gently holding him there.

“Oh, my Felix… I love you too.” Chan’s voice was soothing to Felix, chasing away the fear of rejection that had tried to plant itself in his heart. “I always have.”

Closing his eyes, Felix let himself relax into the arms of his Christmas fairy and released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Really?”

Chan hummed in affirmation, his chest rumbling lightly against Felix’s cheek. “Of course. I- I first heard your call for someone to love and when I saw you I just- I fell. You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever met, inside and out, my love.”

Felix couldn’t stop his own giddy giggle that bubbled into his throat. “You really are everything I ever wanted.”

“As are you, Lix.” Felix’s smile stretched ever wider when Chan pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

For once, Felix didn’t have to be afraid. For once, he had everything he wished for.

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