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lendeah · 8 months

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Happy Memories

Also on AO3

Summary: Based on this line from the epilogue- One night he tells you that these six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: Fluff and Smut, 6 months post-finale, Lovemaking, Domestic Fluff, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Love Confessions, it's so soft really, Soft Astarion, they have just been through so much, Tooth-Rotting Fluff.

WARNING: +18, minors DNI

The past few months had been a trying time, both of you struggling to come to terms with the events that had transpired. The weight of it all hung heavy in the air, leaving you to navigate through nightmares and Astarion's bouts of dissociation. Yet, somehow, you were making progress. Together.

You had taken it upon yourself to find a cure for Astarion's condition, a challenging task made even more difficult by his returned aversion to sunlight. But it gave you both a purpose, something to look forward to - a brighter tomorrow. The greatest source of joy in your present life was the simple act of lying down next to him every night, enveloped in each other's arms with the comforting knowledge that tomorrow you would once again wake up without the constant fear of losing him.

Together, you had found solace in a serene cottage by Riverbend, settling into a comfortable routine. You delighted in gardening and cooking, while he took care of household chores and lovingly mended and sewed your clothes. On lazy afternoons, you would paint alongside him as he engrossed himself in endless books. It was pure bliss, and you were content with your perfectly imperfect life together.

As the two of you prepared for bed, Astarion wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. In the past, such an intimate gesture would have caught you off guard, but he has since learned to let his guard down and embrace moments of tenderness. Though he still struggles at times, he relishes in this display of affection.

"Everything alright, my love?" you asked, resting your head against his.

Astarion's arms tightened around you as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. "Alright would be an understatement," he murmured, his voice low and warm against your skin. "I am absolutely enchanted, my dear."

You turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'm glad to hear that, because I am enchanted too," you said softly.

Astarion leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a delicate kiss. You hummed against his mouth, savoring the familiar feeling of his soft lips moving against yours. He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against yours as he whispered, "I have something I want to show you."

Curiosity sparked within you, but you simply nodded and followed him as he led you outside. The moon was high in the sky, casting its soft glow over everything. Astarion took your hand and led you toward the nearby meadow. And that's when you see it: he has prepared the scenery around to look like the one from the first night you shared together, back at the Grove.

"What is this?" You say, with a huge grin decorating your face.

Astarion's crimson eyes shone with excitement as he turned to you. "This, my love, is a recreation of the night we first shared at the Grove," he said proudly.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you took in the scene before you. The soft grass beneath your feet, the gentle rustling of trees in the distance, and a small basket filled with wine and various snacks, right next to a small blanket.

"I thought we could relive that enchanted evening, but this time we'll make it truly unforgettable." His fingers caressed your cheek, gently wiping away a stray tear, as he added with a cheeky smile, "Because let's be honest, the first time was... underwhelming."

You smiled at him, grateful beyond words for his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, my love, this is incredible," you said, your voice thick with emotion.

Astarion's smile widened and he pulled you into a tight embrace. "Anything for you," he whispered into your ear.

You stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a while, just enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Eventually, Astarion led you over to the basket and poured some wine for both of you. As the night went on, the two of you talked and laughed, reminiscing about your early days together and all the adventures you had been on since then. And with each passing moment, it felt as if the world had paused just for the two of you, as if all the events of the previous months were leading up to this one perfect moment.

As midnight approached, Astarion stood and held out his hand. "Shall we dance under the moonlight?" he asked with a playful glint in his eyes.

You raised a teasing eyebrow, "Has the spirit of Wyll possessed you?"

Astarion chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, my dear, you wound me! I assure you, this idea is entirely my own. Besides, who needs Wyll's spirit when I have enough charisma to ignite the heavens themselves?" He flourished a grand gesture, pretending to adjust an imaginary top hat atop his head.

You couldn't help but giggle at his theatrics. "How could I resist such an offer from the ever-enchanting Astarion?" you teased, accepting his outstretched hand.

He pulled you close, his hand resting firmly on the small of your back as he led you in a slow and graceful waltz beneath the soft glow of the moon. The world around you seemed to fade away as you slowly swayed in each other's arms.

"I don't remember this happening on our first night," you murmured against his ear, remembering how different that moment had been compared to this one.

A low, seductive chuckle escaped Astarion's lips as they brushed against your skin. "And pray tell, darling, what do you recall?"

"I remember you trying to seduce me and then almost draining me dry," you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye.

Astarion let out a dramatic gasp. "Such slander! I would never do such a thing!" He pressed his hand to his chest in mock offense.

You both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet night. It was a stark contrast to the fake seducing words and lack of feelings of that first night. Now, he was completely at ease, his true self shining through without any pretense or hunger clouding his mind.

"But it was still special," Astarion whispered, stopping the dance to pull you closer to him. "It's what brought us to be here now, and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

You smiled up at him, your heart fluttering at his words, as you leaned in to kiss him. It was a gentle and sweet kiss at first but soon turned more passionate as Astarion deepened it. His hands grabbed your thighs and picked you up to press you up against a nearby tree, lips trailing down your neck.

"This is bringing back memories," You say breathlessly.

You could feel him smirk against your skin "Do you really think so? Perhaps I should refresh them even more."

His declaration sent a wave of warmth through your body and you leaned in to kiss him again, eager to lose yourself in the moment. His hands were now unbuttoning your shirt and you gasped as they reached your bare skin. You looked at his hooded eyes, and with a playful smile, offered your neck to him.

However, Astarion pulled away slightly and looked into your eyes, with something like doubt swimming in them. "I want this to be real," he said earnestly. "Not like last time."

You nodded in understanding and smiled softly at him. "It already is," you reassured him, cupping his cheek with your hand.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned in to kiss you again, but this time it was slow and tender – an exchange of affection rather than something laced with hunger or deception. Astarion picked you up again and gently set you down on the soft blanket that he had laid out earlier. He leaned in to kiss you once more, his body hovering over yours.

As you entwined your fingers in his soft, white locks, you pulled him towards you, deepening the kiss. His hands explored every curve and dip of your body, sending pleasurable shivers down your spine with each touch.

As his lips trailed from yours, they left a tingling sensation in their wake. Your hands eagerly reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. Astarion's hungry gaze followed every movement as you unbuttoned your jeans and let them fall to the ground. With a grin, he helped you out of your remaining clothes before stepping back to fully appreciate your naked form glistening under the moonlight. His eyes traced every curve and dip of your body before meeting your gaze once again, a hunger evident in his expression.

"You are breathtaking," he murmured, and then pulled you into another passionate kiss. Your fingers traced the lines of his bare chest, feeling the softness of his skin. You tugged at his shirt, silently urging him to remove it, and he obliged with a sly smile. His pants soon followed, revealing the chiseled contours of his body. Your hands traced over every ridge and dip of his body, feeling the coolness of his skin against your fingertips.

"I want you to bite me," you whispered urgently.

Astarion leaned down to press his lips against the nape of your neck, making you gasp and arch into him as he traced his fangs along your pulse point. Your skin tingled with excitement as his hands eagerly explored your body before gripping your hips, sending shivers of desire through you.

"Tell me if it becomes too much," he whispered against your skin before sinking his teeth into your neck gently.

You gasped at the sensation – a mix of pleasure and pain that sent sparks flying through your body. Astarion's grip on your hips tightened as he drank from you, his other hand reaching up to cup one of your breasts. You moaned as he continued to drink from you, feeling the pleasure building up inside of you.

After a few minutes, Astarion pulled away and licked the wound on your neck before kissing it gently. His red eyes met yours and they were glowing with a mix of emotions – desire, love, and something else that you couldn't quite pinpoint.

"I'll never grow weary of that," he murmurs, before leaning in for another kiss. Astarion's lips trailed down your neck and onto your chest, leaving a trail of kisses as he made his way towards your breasts, taking a nipple between his lips. Every touch of his tongue sent sparks of pleasure through your body and you arched your back in response.

"Astarion..." you panted.

The sound of his name on your lips only spurred him on, and he began to suckle harder, moving to tease the other nipple with his fingers. His hand moved from your breast to between your legs, and you gasped as his fingers found your wetness. He slipped his fingers between your soaking folds, skillfully rubbing and circling your clit. The combination of his mouth and fingers sent waves of pleasure through you, making you whimper and writhe beneath him.

"Please," you whimpered, unable to hold back any longer.

Astarion smirked against your skin before moving down your body, his lips leaving a trail of kisses until he reached the apex of your thighs. He looked up at you with hunger in his eyes before diving in with his tongue, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

His tongue flicked against your clit, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You tangled your fingers in his hair, urging him on as he continued to please you.

"Astarion...oh gods..." you cried out, your voice thick with need. His fingers thrusted into you relentlessly, syncing perfectly with the skilled movements of his tongue on your swollen clit. Your body arched and trembled with each wave of pleasure, every muscle tensed in anticipation.

"Inside...now..." you begged, unable to find the words to express the ache for him to fill you completely.

Astarion looked up at you from between your legs, his eyes filled with lust and desire, "Whatever you wish, dearest."

With a swift movement, he withdrew his fingers from your slick entrance and aligned himself at your dripping core. He pushed in slowly, savoring the tightness and heat engulfing him. A moan escaped your lips as you were filled to the hilt, waves of pleasure washing over you. Your bodies melted together, panting and trembling with pleasure. He then leaned in close, and gently rested his forehead against yours, breaths mingling as you held each other.

"I never envisioned discovering someone like you," Astarion said softly, "You have made these six months of happy memories counterweight two hundred years of misery."

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes at his words. The weight of his words, the realization that you have brought true joy to someone who has known nothing but misery, crushes you in the most beautiful way.

"I...I love you," you managed to choke out, your heart overflowing with emotion as you reached up to touch his face, tracing the lines of his cheekbone with trembling fingers. "More than anything."

Astarion's eyes softened at your words, a small smile tugging at his lips. He leaned down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, pouring all of his emotions into it. You both stayed like that for a few moments, just lost in each other.

"I love you more than my own existence," he whispered against your lips, his voice raw with emotion. "You are my everything."

Without hesitation, he leaned down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss, and you savored the feeling of his lips against yours. Eventually, he starts slowly moving inside of you, each thrust calculated and precise as he intertwines his fingers with yours. You moaned and wrapped your legs around his waist, still lazily kissing him. Astarion continued to move inside of you with slow, deliberate strokes, making love to you in the most intimate way. Every movement is filled with intense desire and tenderness, eliciting uncontrollable moans of pleasure from your lips.

"You feel so good," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with adoration.

Your legs wrapped around his toned waist, your fingers tightly gripping his as he moved inside you. Each thrust was met with a moan from your lips, the heat and friction between your bodies igniting a passionate fire within you. He held you close, his lips eagerly finding yours in between each deepening thrust. The intensity and intimacy of the moment had you lost in a sea of pleasure, feeling every inch of him as he poured his love into every movement. Your body trembled as you neared your climax, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation any longer. Sensing this, he shifted his hand between your bodies, his fingers finding their way to your clit once again.

"Oh gods," you cried out as the pleasure intensified. Your body trembled and your breath quickened as Astarion's fingers moved expertly over your skin. You dug your nails into his back, desperately trying to hold on as he brought you closer to the edge.

"I'm close," Astarion grunted, his own body trembling with need.

"I am too," you whimpered.

Astarion's movements became faster and more urgent, his own moans mixing with yours in the stillness of the night.

"Look at me when you come," he demanded, and you obeyed.

Your eyes locked with Astarion's, the intensity of his gaze sending chills down your spine. As you reached the peak of pleasure, your body trembled and your walls pulsed around him. You couldn't hold back any longer and cried out his name, drowning in waves of pure ecstasy, and Astarion followed suit with a guttural moan. As you both lay there, breathless and entwined, every cell in your body buzzed with contentment and fulfillment.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice raw with emotion.

"I love you too," Astarion replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off of you and pulling you close to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling content and complete in his arms.

You both lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, until eventually, Astarion spoke up.

"Even if we don't find the cure, being here with you is enough," he said softly, his voice filled with emotion. He paused for a moment, his eyes on yours, searching for the right words. "This is all I ever wanted," he says softly, placing his hand on your cheek.

You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips as you traced your fingers along his chest.

"I feel the same way," you replied, resting your head back on his chest. "But we can't give up hope just yet."

Astarion nodded, his arms tightening around you. "We won't" Astarion replies. He pulls you in close to him, squeezing you tightly. "We'll find the cure. I know we will." A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "And I will spend the rest of eternity making it up to you."

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niallhorxns · 3 months

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Niall Horan x Reader: Panicked

Prompt: You have a panic attack while you're on tour with him, he helps you through it.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: anxiety, panic attack

A/N: hello!!! i recently discovered there's a painfully limited amount of niall x reader fics out there, so i'm adding to the pot. feel free to send requests / prompts if anyone has ideas they want me to write :) (i especially love angst, so give it to me).

Niall’s laugh fills the air as he leans forward and chats back and forth with the driver. If you weren’t so busy gazing at the views around you, you would’ve held onto the sound of it longer– reminded yourself it’s still your favorite sound in the entire world.

Tonight is night… forty five? No, forty six. Hell, you can’t remember. All you know is that as far as cities go, this one is small– but it has a certain charm to it that you’ve been admiring the entire ride to and from breakfast.

“Oh, take a look at that,” Niall says, reaching over your lap to point out the window. He’s motioning towards the river, sparkling blue underneath the clear sky, and lined with a cobblestone walkway. “That’s gorgeous.”

He says it longingly– like he wishes he could get out of the car and walk along the path. But of course he doesn’t suggest that. In fact, Niall rarely suggests outings when you’re with him on tour– because he knows how anxious it makes you. Not the outing itself, but the likelihood of him being spotted. You could handle a walk along the river, but you’d have a hard time handling a swarm of people bombarding you on a walk along the river.

It must drive him crazy– the way you always prefer sticking to the venue or hotel. And while he always claims to understand each and every time you say no to a public dinner, or whatever adventure is planned for the day, you can’t help but wonder if there will come a time that he gets sick of you always anxiously hanging back.

Your anxiety has ruined so much for you. It’s ruined school events and trips, it’s ruined friendships and opportunities. You don’t want it to ruin your relationship with Niall, too.

For the last year and a half, you’ve been attending therapy consistently– learning breathing techniques and grounding skills to cope with anxiety.

You wonder if now was a good time to test if it was working.

“Do we have time before soundcheck?” You ask.

Niall checks his watch. “It’s only eleven thirty. We don’t have to be back at the venue until one. You want to walk around?” He asks, a hint of surprise in his tone.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” you agree.

Niall grins before asking the driver to pull over.

Hand in hand, the pair of you stroll along the river casually, admiring the views around you. Summer is in full bloom– all the trees a brilliant shade of green, the sky stunningly blue.

“Look there–” Niall uses his free hand to gesture at a family of ducks swimming along the rivershore. You both stop in your tracks and watch for a moment, a smile spreading widely across your face.

“This is so nice,” you say. It’s so rare that you actually got quality time with Niall when he was on tour. Sure, you accompanied him to most shows, but you rarely got any shred of privacy.

This is what life might look like if Niall wasn’t… well, if he wasn’t Niall. You could take quiet walks in the morning along a riverbend. You could sit on park benches and drink your coffee without being swarmed. You’d be free to live your lives– unbothered, undisturbed.

But that wasn’t reality. And through the years, you learned that the only thing about your situation that you had control over changing was yourself. You couldn’t change the fact that Niall was adored and loved by people wherever you went. But you could try to change how anxious that made you.

You’d accepted the fact that you would always be introverted. People, present company aside, were draining. You’d never get energized from crowds like Niall did, and you’d never like being the center of attention. All you wanted was to be able to handle yourself when Niall inevitably was surrounded by crowds– that way you weren’t always restricted to what you could and couldn’t do whenever he was on tour.

“It is nice,” Niall agrees.

“And to think I’d never even heard of this town before,” you add.

Niall chuckles while you lean further into his side. “I think we’re actually really close to the venue, too,” he says, tilting his head towards the direction of the road.

The road, which is parallel to the path, curled around a corner and sure enough, in the distance, you could see the faint outline of the venue Niall would perform in tonight.

“Oh wow, I didn’t realize–” you begin. But before you can finish your sentence, your heart clenches in your chest. Because as soon as you’re far enough along the path to see the road leading to the entrance of the venue, the line of fans waiting to get in appears.

They’re across the street from the two of you, less than a football field away. Hundreds of fans sit– in their pretty clothes and outfits on the concrete, waiting in the hot sun for your boyfriend’s show. You are simultaneously proud that he is so adored, and terrified that you’ll be spotted.

“Shit,” Niall mutters under his breath. “Let’s turn back.”

“We can keep going,” you say, trying desperately to prove to him that you really are getting better– that you don’t have to be coddled all the time.

“We don’t have to–”

“The venue’s closer than the car,” you reply. “It’s fine, let’s just go.”

“You’re right. Maybe we can just sneak by. Go in the side gate there,” he suggests, nodding towards a side entrance to the venue. “I’m pretty covered up today. You up for that?”

You nod slowly, although you aren’t sure how true that really was. But at least Niall looked pleased– maybe even a little impressed.

Following his lead, you keep your head down and just focus on taking one step after another. Your gaze remains fixated on the stone beneath your feet, hoping to evade detection. You breathe in, forcing the air to your stomach– just like your therapist taught you, hold it, and out.

And slowly, the two of you get closer and closer to the venue, just enough so that you actually start to feel hopeful that maybe you’ll pull it off.

Until the screaming starts.

It starts off slow– one person shrieks.

And then it becomes hysterical– the kind of screams you let out when there’s a snake in the pool or a spider in the shower. Except you know these girls aren’t screaming because of snakes or spiders. They’re screaming because of your boyfriend– who is currently pressed to your side.

“Oh shit,” he says quietly. “Here they come.”

“Ni–” you whisper, already feeling the panic creeping up your throat. And suddenly, everything you’ve been taught– all the breathing techniques and grounding skills, go out the window. Your mind is blank– frozen.

“It’s okay,” he encourages you, giving your hand a tight squeeze. “Stand on this side of me.”

He shuffles you so that you’re on his other side– furthest from the group of fans currently running your way while you continue walking towards the venue. You aren’t going to make it in time, you realize– they’re going to catch you first.

“It’ll be okay,” he repeats to you. “We’re close to the venue, it’ll be okay.”

All you can manage is a weak nod.

As soon as the group approaches, the warmth from their bodies engulf you like a blanket– slow and suffocating. Niall, of course, handles everything beautifully. “Hello, hello,” he says kindly, remaining so calm. “Afraid we can’t do photos this morning, I’m late for soundcheck… Gotta get inside.”

There are bodies in front of you– there are bodies pressing behind you, bodies around you… everywhere. You lean into Niall’s touch, your clammy hand clinging to his like your life depends on it. In the vague distance, you feel him squeeze back, but it doesn’t feel real.

“Move please!” A firm voice suddenly shouts above the noise. Instantly, you recognize the voice as one from Niall’s security teaam. Relief floods through you as he makes his way through the group to collect the pair of you. He grabs Niall’s shoulders firmly and guides him forward. In the haste to try and keep up, your sweaty palm slips from his. Desperately, you try to latch back on, but as soon as it parts, bodies slip between you. In an instant, you’re separated from the one person in the entire world that can make you feel safe.

“Niall—” you try to say, but of course your meek voice is drowned out by the crowd.

You think you saw a flash of his hair ahead of you, but then a body slams into yours and you stumble, losing track of where it goes. People are pushing forward– to get closer to him. And then suddenly, you can’t breathe at all. Hot bodies all around you, the beating sun above– skin and clothing touching your bare arms. You can’t take it– you’re going to suffocate in here.

And all you can do is continue to push forward– closer to the gate, hoping that eventually, the crowd will break.

Everything is simultaneously moving too fast and too slow as the edges of your vision blur, like you’re getting sucked deeper and deeper into a dark tunnel. Chest tightening, you struggle to inhale.

Until suddenly, someone grabs your elbow, tugging you to your left. You don’t even have the energy to fight it. Instead, you let them pull you sideways until you’re out of the thickest part of the crowd.

Another one of Niall’s security team that you recognize gave you a concerned look. “You alright?”

You can’t get the words out, so instead you just nod. It’s a lie, though.

With that, he helps you the rest of the way to the venue. “Move aside!” The security guard yells, his grip on your shoulders tightening as he tries to maneuver his way through. “Move!”

Using his arm, he sweeps the remainder of the mob from your way and ushers you through the gate. Except, even once you’re inside– separated from the crowd, you’re too far gone to even appreciate it. Instead, you feel the familiar sensation of panic creeping across every inch of your skin, like it has already taken over your entire body. You know you have to get somewhere private, and fast– before you completely fall apart.

Without even realizing it, your feet start moving. Luckily the attention shifts to the mob of people outside, so no one even notices your attempt to slip away. Or maybe you’re just too engrossed in your own panic to notice anyone noticing you. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is getting somewhere quiet– somewhere safe.

You’ve never been to this venue before– but throughout the tour, you’ve learned that most of the layouts are the same. This was an amphitheater– outdoors, minimal options for private breakdowns. Your best bet is going to be the backstage room where you and Niall left your stuff earlier in the day. If you could remember how to get there…

Even though you have no idea where you are going, your body continues to move. It leads you around a couple of corners, past the merch booth and concessions and towards the stage… You’re going to lose it if you don't get somewhere safe fast.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip your shoulders, causing your entire body to seize.

“It’s me,” a gentle voice murmurs. "I got you."

Through your foggy haze, you recognize Niall’s touch– except you still can’t breathe.

One look– that’s all it takes for him to know what was going on. Because he’s the one person on this planet that you’d willingly ever let get close to you during a panic attack.

“One to five?” he asks, indicating the rating scale the two of you had created for moments like this– so you could communicate just how bad you were feeling. One meant you could stay where you were, maybe take some breaths. Two meant he’d guide you through the grounding skills he knew about, maybe rub your back. Three was on the cusp, probably needed to go to a quiet corner to take some space. Four meant getting somewhere quiet and safe– and fast. Five meant you were probably dying.

You hold up four fingers. It feels bad– scary. Maybe you’re dying… but you also don’t want to be dramatic.

“Tell me what you need,” he says.

You try– honestly, you do. You open your mouth, but all that comes out is a gasp– a plea for help.

“Okay, it’s okay– c’mon,” he grips your shoulders and begins walking. You have no idea where– honestly you don’t have the capacity to care. All of your energy is focused on not passing out.

Niall flashes his badge to an employee who lets you backstage. You vaguely recognize the halls he leads you down as the ones where you dropped your stuff earlier. He’s bringing you to his dressing room… because of course he knows exactly what you need.

Once you’re inside, Niall shuts the door behind you as you stagger inside. Then, he spins around, his hands cupping the sides of your face.

“Look at me, baby,” he says. “It’s okay– you’re okay.”

“I– can’t–” you gasp, your own hands flying up to grip his forearms for some sort of lifeline to reality. “I can’t– breathe–”

“Okay, okay, okay,” he says. He’s trying to stay calm, but you can hear the uneasiness in his voice. “With me.”

He gives a deep, methodical inhale before letting out a slow, intentional exhale. “Just do it with me. Slow, like this.”

He continues, and you try to match his pace– to breathe with him, but it feels like someone is gripping your windpipe– squeezing so hard you just can’t get enough air–

“Niall–” you beg, your voice hoarse. “I can’t–”

“C’mon, with me,” he repeats earnestly. He’s looking at you with terror in his eyes, but you find comfort in their familiarity just the same. “We’ve done this a hundred times before, you know how to do this.”

“I– I–” you stammer, but the words won’t form.

“Shh, with me. Everything’s okay. I’m here. We’re both okay,” he assures you. His gaze is just so tender and soft and careful while his thumb grazes your cheek.

“I- I can’t-” you choke again, “Please-”

“Shh-” he soothes. “Look at me, nothing else, just me.”

Your wide, desperate eyes meet his. You don’t say anything, just shudder and gasp frantically.

“With me,” he repeats.

Niall produces loud and deliberate, slow and calming, in and out breathes. After a few seconds, you latch onto the sound, mimicking it, and then finally follow along.

“There you go,” he whispers.

Your facial features slowly start to relax as you’re able to breathe properly. Without your loud, choking sobs, you’re able to hear your heartbeat pounding in your chest frantically.

“Good job,” Niall sighs. “Look, it’s just you and me, we’re okay–”

But he can’t even finish his sentence before you lean forward and wind your arms around his neck– desperate and longing for some sort of comfort. Strong, sturdy arms wrap around you as you burrow your face into the nape of his neck. You breathe him in, letting his familiar scent wash over you.

“It’s okay,” Niall soothes. Upon feeling your shaky body pressed against his, he squeezes tighter. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here, I got you.”

You melt against him in response, bunching the fabric of his shirt into your fist, trying to communicate just how badly you need him to hold you right now.

And that’s exactly what he does— until you can finally breathe on your own again.

And then the wave of guilt comes.

Suddenly the realization of everything hit you– what a basketcase you’d been, running off like that, having a meltdown– you probably scared the shit out of him, or at the very least made a fool of yourself in front of the entire venue. Slowly, you pull back.

“Are you okay?” Niall says before you can even open your mouth.

You exhale a deep, shuddering breath that you can feel down your entire body. “I’m okay,” you say, your voice raw. “I’m so sorry– I didn’t mean to freak out.”

“Shh. Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay,” Niall says. His hands grip the outside of your shoulders gently. “Don’t apologize– I’m the sorry one, making you go through a crowd like that. That was a horrible idea.”

“It wasn’t even your idea– and I should be able to go through a crowd like that. I don’t know why I always freak out–” you stammer, feeling so upset with yourself. “It’s so stupid.”

“We talked about this, love. Remember? Anxiety doesn’t always make sense. Right? It’s not rational.”

“I just—” you start, but you stop when you notice how choked up your voice sounds. You take a slow breath. “I wanted to prove to you that I was doing better– that I wasn’t going to freak out every time we went out. But I guess I haven’t made progress, after all.”

As soon as you feel the tears burning behind your eyes, you dig the heels of your palms into them frustratedly, like you were physically trying to push them away.

“It’s getting so much better though, baby,” Niall says encouragingly. “This is the first panic attack you’ve had all tour. Unless you’ve been hiding them from me,” he says with a hint of playfulness to his tone. “First one in forty-five shows. That’s incredible. Last tour you were havin’ em every other night it seemed. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but that’s huge.”

You lower your arms and nod pathetically, gaze fixated on the floor.

“What is it?” he whispers gently. “Talk to me.”

“I’m so scared,” you choke out, “that one day you’re going to get sick of me–”

“Baby,” Niall interrupts.

“Maybe not me, but all of this,” you say instead. “I mean, you realize you could have anyone, right? But you could especially have someone who didn’t have a meltdown every time they had to face a crowd– Or someone who could actually handle going out in public with you once and a while.”

“Please look at me,” Niall says, voice gently serious. Pathetically, you do– your lip quivering as tears threaten to spill. “I need you to listen to me when I tell you this, okay?”

Slowly, you nod.

“I don’t want anyone else. Not in a million years, okay? I don’t want someone who loves crowds or going out, because they wouldn’t be you. Baby, honestly, I don’t like getting swarmed or photographed, either. If it bothered me that we didn’t go out much– I’d tell you. But it doesn’t. What does bother me is you changin’ things about yourself because you think it’ll make me happy. You make me happy. You. As you are, no changin’ things.”

You let his words sink in and try to believe them. “I’m just sorry you have to deal with me all the time. You have enough on your plate,” you groan, rubbing your tired eyes.

Niall sighs. “Baby, I sing and play the guitar– do a little dance or two if I’m really feelin’ it. I think I can handle being there for my girlfriend on top of that,” he says. “I love you. And I want you to be okay, always. That’s all I’ll ever want.”

With all your energy seemingly zapped, you lean forward and rest your forehead on Niall’s shoulder. His arms wrap around you again, anchoring you to him.

“I love you,” you murmur into his shirt. It’s muffled by the fabric, but it's there just the same.

You feel his hand cradle the back of your neck while he chuckles softly. “Good, because we still have about forty more shows to go.”

#i made a new blog so this is a shameless repost!!!!#niall horan #niall horan fic #niall horan imagine #niall horan x reader imagine #niall horan x reader #niall horan x reader fic #niall horan fanfic #niall horan x reader fanfic #niall horan angst #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan x reader angst

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briefinquiries · 1 year

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: Fourth of July

Description: You & the team go see the fireworks for the fourth of July, you have a trauma response to the loud noise.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: PTSD, blood mention

A/N: Repost :)

“What are the odds that this is the second holiday in a row that a case hasn’t come in?” Rossi mused excitedly.

The entire team was huddled in a circle in the bullpen, waiting for Emily to finish up some last minute paperwork before heading out as a group for the night.

Spencer’s finger shot up in the air. “Statistically speaking–”

“Nope,” Rossi cut him off sharply. “It was a rhetorical question, genius.”

Spencer’s mouth fell shut, but a smile lingered on his lips.

You felt Luke shift from behind you, where you leaned between his legs as he sat perched on his own desk. “No, c’mon,” he chuckled. “I wanna know the statistics!”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes playfully. Your boyfriend was always so interested in whatever random facts Spencer was spewing out.

Reid raised his eyebrows at Rossi, as if to say, see? I told you I was interesting, but before he could actually finish his tidbit, Emily walked out of her office with all her things gathered in her hand.

“Who’s ready for some fireworks?” she asked excitedly.

Everyone but you cheered.

Ever since you’d gotten back from your tour in Iraq, you’d been uneasy around loud noises. It was nothing you weren’t aware of, and certainly nothing out of the ordinary for someone who had seen combat. But it also wasn’t something that you’d told Luke about yet. You planned to, of course, just like you planned on sharing practically everything with him… eventually. But Iraq wasn’t something you could ever talk about with ease, and you knew that disclosing your fears would involve a conversation about why you had them in the first place.

That’s why you found yourself agreeing to join the rest of the team’s Fourth of July plans when Garcia had invited you and Luke earlier that week.

“Sounds fun,” you had lied straight through your teeth. You’d been dreading it ever since.

But Luke would be there. His safe arms would no doubt be wrapped around you, much like they were now. And you planned on funneling all your energy into focusing on the way that felt, rather than the chaos and noise around you.

The team planned on watching the fireworks on the riverbend downtown. They’d be set off across the water, giving you all a perfect view. Garcia promised greasy food from vendors and other sweet treats throughout the night. You kept trying to convince yourself that it wouldn’t all be bad. You just had to concentrate on not flinching everytime a firework popped off.

You rode with Luke, your fingers laced together and resting on the center console as he navigated through traffic. The rest of the team would meet you guys there. You thought you were doing a fair job at concealing your anxiety as you made small talk with him during the short ride. He showed no inclination of knowing about the knots tying themselves tighter and tighter inside your stomach.

There were a lot more people at the river than you’d originally anticipated. But Luke easily managed to find a parking spot, and the two of you waited by the trunk of his car until the rest of the team arrived.

Emily, Tara, Garcia Spencer, and Rossi all rode together. They were the first to find a spot right next to yours and join the two of you. Next, JJ and Will filed in, with no kids for the evening. Lastly, Matt and Kristy arrived, hand in hand with matching smiles on their faces.

You were like a big, giant, extended family weaving your way through the crowd of people. There were vendors and food trucks lines along the riverbend. Kids ran around with sticks of cotton candy and sparklers.

You found a spot amidst the crowd to lay down the blanket. It almost felt like a picnic when you all sat down. You sat in front of Luke, a foot or so away, rummaging through your bag for your phone. You let out a gasp when you felt his hands grip your hips and pull you backwards, between his legs, your back against his chest.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek. You smiled into his touch, appreciating how safe and secure you always felt in his arms. If you could stay like this all night, you just might be okay.

The sun started to set across the riverbed, leaving in its wake a brilliantly pink and purple sky. For a while, you just stayed like that, Luke’s arms coiled around you, your head leaned back and resting on his chest, watching the violet hues from the sunset fade into darkness.

“I can’t believe you’ve lived in Virginia all this time and have never seen the fireworks here,” Garcia gawked at Spencer. He was sitting on the blanket, his arms behind him as he leaned back.

“I’m not a big fireworks guy,” Spencer shrugged. “I don’t see the appeal.”

“Well you’ve been going to the wrong fireworks shows then, because this is going to blow your freakishly smart mind,” Garcia promised.

Luke shifted behind you, sitting up a little straighter.

“Where can I get one of those?” Luke asked, intrigued as he sees a small boy run by with a cone of chocolate ice cream.

“Ice cream truck’s this way,” Garcia grinned, pointing her finger to the array of food trucks parked about 50 yards away. “Follow me.”

You instantly felt the absence of Luke’s arms when he stood up. It left you cold and shivering.

“Want anything, baby?” he asked, looking down at you.

You shook your head apprehensively.

“I’ll be right back.”

You smiled up at him. You weren’t sure if it was to reassure him or yourself that you’d be okay while he was gone.

The air was brisk and Luke still wasn’t back when the first firework went off.

You saw it shoot up into the air, a vibrant white streak of color contrasting with the night sky, before it actually popped. But no amount of planning could have prepared you for the sound. It was deafening and loud and it made your entire body go rigid with fear.

You looked around and you could see that you weren’t in Iraq. So why did the night air feel so hot and dry? Why did the soft blanket beneath your legs suddenly feel coarse and sandy?

You had zoned out enough to not be ready for the second firework to pop off. When it did, the sound made you jump. And instantly, you were transported back to the desert. In your mind you could see, clear as day, the rest of your squad ducking behind the army truck beside you. You’ve got your gun clutched to your chest while bullets whizzed all around you, making it hard to concentrate. The loud sound of gunfire ringing in your ears was all consuming. You didn’t recognize the man crouched next to you. You barely even noticed him until his scream interrupted the steady sound of gunfire. When you looked over, his hand was pressed against his stomach, his eyes looking down at the fresh bullet hole in his abdomen. The diameter of blood on his uniform expanded rapidly.

“No, no, no–” you gasped, throwing your gun down to help him apply pressure to the wound. Your hands were shaking so violently, you could barely trust them to help, but you had to try.

“P-please,” his words were clouded by the blood that was spilling out from his mouth. “Please help me.”

“You’re gonna be okay,” you told him, your voice wavering.

He let out a choppy exhale, blood spraying out of his lips. It was like you both knew it wasn’t true.

Someone was yelling your name, it sounds like your Lieutenant. But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the man beneath you. You were scared that the second you looked away, he’d be gone.

You heard your name again, but this time, it sounded closer, and the voice is softer– more familiar. It was accompanied by a hand shaking your shoulder.

When you turned your head, hopeful that someone was finally here to help, you were surprised to see Spencer’s face gazing back at you. You blinked harshly and when you opened your eyes again, the sand was gone.

There was no man bleeding in your lap, no gunfire, no war.

Just Spencer’s worried gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, trying not to draw the attention of anyone else.

Your heart was racing, so much so that you think if you looked down, you could see it beating underneath your own skin. There was adrenaline and fear rushing through your veins. But instead of telling him the truth, you just nodded.

“Y-Yeah,” you stammered, your mouth dry. “I ju-just, I don’t feel good.”

It was a bad excuse, and one that Spencer clearly didn’t buy. But you needed a reason to get out of there. So, confused, dazed, and panicked, you stood up from the blanket and hurried off in the direction you thought was safety.

…

Luke made his way back to the blanket, laughing at something Garcia had said.

“Keep it up with all this ice cream and soon enough you won't be able to chase criminals.”

He faked being offended.

But when he made his way back to the rest of the team, he was startled to see that you weren’t there. Before Luke could ask, Spencer was standing up and walking towards him and Garcia.

“Hey,” he said discreetly. “Y/N took off, like- just a few minutes ago. I asked if she was okay, but she just said she didn’t feel good. I don’t know- she didn’t look okay,” he admitted.

“Was she sick?” Luke asked, instantly worried.

Spencer shrugged, “She looked out of it- really spooked. I tried to keep my eye on her, but I lost her in the crowd.”

Reid pointed towards the massive gathering of people. “It looked like she was heading towards the cars,” he told Luke.

Without hesitating, Luke just nodded, handing his ice cream to a concerned-looking Garcia, before spinning on his feet and following in the direction that Reid was pointing.

He pushed against the crowd of people, keeping his eyes peeled only for you. Only when he got to the parking lot did Luke’s shoulders relax even the slightest. From across the lot, he saw his truck, and a small figure leaning over near it that could only be you.

Luke exhaled, relieved that he at least was able to find you, before walking closer.

As he approached, he quickly realized that something was wrong. You were doubled over, your hands resting on your knees. At first, Luke thought you were getting sick, but as he got closer, he heard the unmistakable sound of your muffled cries.

That made him pick up his pace.

“Hey-” he said. “What’re you doing over here?” But there was no indication that you even heard him. Instead, you let out a shaky sob and stumbled on your feet.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he hurried over, reaching out to steady you.

As soon as his hand landed on your hip you whipped around, standing up straight while your entire body flinched at the contact. The sharp gesture caused Luke to pull away, momentarily shocked.

But when he saw your face, eyes red rimmed and tears streaming down your face, his chest tightened. As a veteran, he’d seen this kind of dazed and panicked look before. He just had no idea he’d ever see it from you.

“L-Luke?” you said, like you couldn’t quite believe it was him.

He cautiously nodded, not wanting to make any more sudden movements that would startle you. “It’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

The affirmation was all you needed to rush over to him. At first he was rigid when you collided with his chest, your arms wrapping around his back craving the safety of his embrace.

He placed a gentle hand on your back, and once he realized you weren’t going to flinch again, he wound his arms all the way around you tightly.

For a while, neither one of you said anything. You clung to him like your life depended on it and Luke just held you reassuringly, knowing that was exactly what you needed.

It wasn’t until he heard you mumble something into his chest that he even considered letting go.

“What?” he asked, leaning back so that he could look down at you.

“He bled out-” you repeated. “Right in my lap.”

Luke didn’t have to ask you for clarification. And even though he knew very little about your time in Iraq, he understood. “Was it the fireworks?” he asked gently, rubbing his hands up and down your shivering arms.

You nodded slowly, still not meeting his gaze.

“Loud noises in general trigger it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked sympathetically. He felt so guilty for encouraging you to attend such a loud event. Had he had any idea loud noises were a trigger for you, he would have insisted you spend the Fourth of July curled up on the couch with takeout instead.

You rubbed your wet eyes with the palms of your hands, unable to imagine how pathetic you looked to Luke right now. “I-I have a hard time talking about it.”

Luke nodded, urging you to continue.

“I have a hard time talking about Iraq, so I-I didn’t feel like explaining.”

“Oh baby,” he sighed. He pulled you into his chest once again, this time his chin resting on top of your head comfortingly. You were consumed entirely by his embrace, and the shaking that had been wracking your entire body was finally starting to ease.

“I thought I’d be okay,” you admitted into his chest. “But as soon as you left it just was too much.”

You heard Luke sigh into your hair before pulling back. He held you out in front of him, his two arms placed securely on your arms. His brown eyes stared captivatingly into yours. “You can always tell me these things, okay?” he insisted. “I want you to, because I understand. I don’t like loud noises either. I’ve been dreading this all week. I only agreed to come because I thought you’d want to.”

It felt like a relief to finally let out a light chuckle. “Are you serious?” you asked him in disbelief.

He nodded, returning the smile.

“So you would’ve been happy just staying home tonight?”

“I would’ve preferred it,” he said through a chuckle.

You scoffed. “Well that would’ve saved me a lot of embarrassment.”

“Next year, yeah?”

You nodded, once again falling into his arms, this time with much greater ease. You were amazed at how quickly he was able to calm you down.

“I feel safer when you’re around,” you admitted.

You felt his arms tighten around you before he said, “Well lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

#luke alvez #criminal minds #luke alvez imagine #luke alvez fic #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x reader fic #luke alvez x reader imagine #criminal minds imagine #luke alvez x reader fanfic #criminal minds x reader

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petalouda85 · 6 months

Text

Birth

Fandom: Blades of Light and Shadow 2

Pairings: Tyril x f!human!MC (Kassandra)

Word count: 1.4k

Concept: Kade, Imtura, and Mal wait for news of the newest member of their family

Tags: @liviusofpella, @megas-choices, @starlight-starfury, @dutifullynuttywitch, @thosehallowedhalls @choicesficwriterscreations

AO3 link: x

A/N: Finally. The fic I’ve wanted to post for a very long time. I can finally reveal the name for Baby Starfury 🥰 after the emotional rollercoaster of Forever (in my Mind), you guys deserve a fluffy treat. Enjoy.

Reading had always been easy for Kade. Almost as easy as breathing. He could grab any tome and easily be lost in the words, his mind taken to places far away and times long gone, it all brought to life with his imagination. Tonight, however, it was hard to concentrate as his mind constantly drifted towards the cabin near to where he sat, his stomach twisting with the knowledge of what was happening inside. He tried to listen for any noise coming from the home, despite knowing it was pointless; Nia and Tyril had made sure of that.

Unable to focus on his book, Kade looked towards the other two that kept him quiet company in the homestead. Mal practiced a few quick movements with his dagger, stabbing into an imaginary foe, while Imtura stood off to the side, aiming and hurling her axes into a nearby tree, the bark splitting more each time. Boredom could rationalize their weapon practice, but Kade knew better.

A few weeks prior, when everyone had finally arrived in Riverbend, the villagers warned them of a group of elves that had recently traveled through. While no direct questions were asked, their apparent interest in the “Hero of Morella” had set off alarm bells in everyone and precautions were taken.

When Kassandra went into labor, Nia and Tyril had cast a spell over the clearing, masking the homestead, and then a silencing spell over the cabin. Once the door shut behind them, Mal and Imtura had pulled their weapons closer, ready to be grabbed at the first sign of trouble. Several hours had passed since then, the high afternoon sun now replaced by a bright moon; Kade reckoned it was past midnight already.

He snapped his book shut and leaned forward with a great sigh, rubbing his eyes and face trying to relieve the tension and growing exhaustion.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle.” He said softly. He must’ve been louder than he thought because in a split second, Mal stood before him.

“You and me both, buddy.” The rogue said, sitting down next to him. “It’s happening and I still have trouble wrapping my head around it. Elf boy and kit are going to be parents. Who would’ve thought the wet blanket and the life of the party would ever reach this point.”

“It is hard to wrap your head around it all.” Kade said. “For so long, it was just me and my sister. Now she’s having a baby.” He let out a weak chuckle. “It’s stupid to think so but, part of me is scared that she’ll forget me; a child takes priority after all.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Imtura said, pulling her axe from the tree before joining the two men. “I’ve travelled with Kassandra long enough to know that she’d never forget you or any of us. We’re all her family and nothing’s gonna change that, not even a new tiny landrat.”

“Would be nice if the little tyke made headway.” Mal said, letting out a loud yawn. “All this doing nothing is making me tired.” His yawn was replaced with a yelp when Imtura slapped him across his head. “Hey!”

“You can’t rush these things.” She scolded. “The tyke gets here when they get here. And that could be in the next 5 minutes or in the next few hours. Hells, little guy could already be here and Kassandra’s just not up for visitors right now. We just got to wait.”

“I know, I know! Doesn’t mean I can’t complain about the waiting. It’s not like we got a lot to do besides that and there’s only so many fake guys I can stab.”

“I’d offer a book, but I get the sense neither of you are readers, even when faced with endless boredom.” All three laughed.

“We’ll leave the reading to you, kid.” Mal stood up from the bench and pulled forth a deck of cards from his pocket. “Up for a game?” He asked the orc, who smiled.

“Always. Be ready to lose.” The two found a patch of grass to sit on and began their game. Kade watched them half-heartedly for a moment before opening his book once more, trying his best not to nod off.

He shut his eyes briefly and when he opened them next, his face was glued against the cover of the book and his back was stiff from the hard bench. With a groan, he sat up, a thin blanket falling off him. Looking around him, he found Imtura and Mal also asleep in the grass, their card game replaced by a now extinguished fire, and the birds singing their morning song as the sun’s beams began to peak through the trees. He stretched his back and checked the state of the cabin, finding the spell still on it, before moving towards his slumbering companions.

“Rise and shine.” Kade said as Mal woke up.

“Morning already? Nothing yet?”

“Nothing yet.” Kade moved to wake Imtura next. Soon, the three sat down for a silent breakfast, ready for the prospect of another day of waiting. After their quick meal, Kade returned to the bench and grabbed his book, ready to try reading it yet again, when a magical hum came from the cabin. He immediately abandoned the tome, jumping to his feet when some low noises could be heard from inside. The door clicked open, and everyone ran to it as Nia appeared in the frame, looking frazzled and tired. Despite her weary state, the priestess was smiling.

“Everything’s fine.” She quickly said, seeing the worry on their faces. “Mom and baby are doing fine. They were born just after midnight. They’re all cleaned up and have already been resting for some time.”

“Midnight? But-“ Mal began to protest but Imtura gave him another slap. The priestess fought down a snicker at his incredulous look before she opened the door a bit wider.

“You can come in but only for a little while; Kassandra’s still very tired.”

Kade ran in first, finding Aderyn preparing some food in the kitchen. He quickly sent her a grateful smile before dashing towards the bedroom, the others on his heels. The moment he stepped into the entrance way, he froze.

Mal unceremoniously bumped into him, but any complaint was quickly gone when the three heard the soft gurgling noises coming from the little bundle resting in Kassandra’s arms.

She was lying in bed, looking exhausted and worn out. Tyril, seated in a chair next to the bed, appeared exhausted as well but both were staring down at the bundle with immeasurable love and affection in their eyes. The two looked up as the visitors slowly entered the room.

“Hi.” Kassandra said, her eyes brimming with tears, before looking down at her child. “Look who’s here.”

Kade stood frozen in place for a moment, alternating his gaze between his sister and the child in her arms, before rushing to the bed and embracing her tightly, tears forming in his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispered to her. He continued holding her, hearing her sniffle before she returned the embrace

“Thank you.” He gave her a kiss on her cheek before pulling away. He then quickly turned towards Tyril and embraced him too; it took the elf a moment to return the gesture.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Kade pulled away and sat down on the bed, watching the child with pride swelling in his chest.

“Do you want to hold them?” Kassandra asked after a while.

“Yes.”

Gently, she passed the bundle to him, the man gawking down at the baby nestled in the blanket their mother had made for them. They were beautiful, dark-skinned and a barely visible black fuzz on their head. They looked almost entirely human, if not for their ears. Granted, they were shorter than the standard elven ears but there was no denying the point at the end of them.

“Hi.” Kade said softly and in disbelief. He took their little hand, the tiny digits not even wrapping entirely around his thumb. “I’m your uncle.” He turned to look at Mal, Imtura and Nia; none had a dry eye. “And your other uncle and aunts are here too.” He looked back to the new parents, who beamed with pride as they held each other’s hand. “What’s their name?”

Tyril looked to Kassandra, who nodded.

“Everyone,” Tyril began with a proud smile, “meet our daughter, Kaya.”

#tyril starfury #tyril x mc #tyril x kassandra #baby starfury #kade of riverbend #mal volari #imtura tal kaelen #nia ellarious #my writing #blades of light and shadow #bolas 2 #playchoices

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mitochondriencocktail · 8 months

Text

Cowboy Tryst

Bojan bites down the dopey smile on his face as he stumbles out the barn doors and into the moonlight with a giggle. The air tonight is mild, one of those June evenings where the crickets are singing and the stars are bright enough to shimmer like the trinkets in his Mama’s jewelry box growing up. He swings his arms around as he pivots on his heel, the dewy air caressing his body like a lover. Save for the hat atop his head, the handkerchief around his neck, and the boots on his feet, Bojan’s stripped himself to enjoy the pleasures of this brief freedom.

This life hasn’t always been easy. The hardships have piled up; losing his mother after immigrating from far away, taking on more jobs to support his younger sister, the toll of farmwork on his body, the way he’s had to hide those burning parts of himself just to ensure his safety.

But, here, he can breathe easy — even if only temporarily. Here, on Riverbend Ranch, he’d met Jere. Another farmhand hired for the summer, this one from Finland. Slicked back ashy blond hair, piercing blue eyes, a grin that made even plucking the weeds around crops seem like a worthwhile task.

It’d started as most of their evenings do now: underneath the stars, a beating heart, bitten down giggles in between kisses. Bojan’s fear had quickly slid into lust, and soon that became a bigger emotion he never knew he’d experience — love.

Jere saunters out after Bojan, playing it up to elicit laughter, the heels of his boots kicking up dirt with every step. His shirt’s already off, his jeans unbuttoned, and Bojan settles himself against the side of a shed as he waits for Jere to approach.

He shimmers underneath the moonlight and soon enough, a scruffy beard is nosing at the side of Bojan’s face, calloused hands caressing Bojan’s torso. Rough thumbs pluck and tease at his nipples and the laughter from before quickly becomes a drawn out moan.

“You’d make handsome cowboy,” Jere says in between kisses, tongue licking along the inside of Bojan’s mouth. “Maybe, one day, we can ride off together. Have our own farm.” He kisses up along the column of Bojan’s neck.

“Yeah? Raise our own cattle, maybe have a pig or two.”

“Maybe three,” Jere breathes and the fantastical promise of that is enough to make Bojan’s heart race.

It doesn’t take long before Bojan’s getting down on his knees, leaning over across the dirt. He slides the cowboy hat off his head, covering his face to hide the creeping blush as Jere slides in behind him. It’d taken him a while to get used to this, to push past the embarrassment of needing someone so badly. To feel brave enough to ask to be filled up, manhandled, fucked into the ground until he was incoherent and then put back together with gentle kisses.

He groans, loud and shameless, as Jere fucks him, the scrape of denim against the flanks of his legs. He bites down on his hat, elbows scraping into the ground, his own cock in Jere’s grasp; stroking, a thumb over the slit. Faster as the pace behind him builds. A heat hotter than the summer sun at noon coiling in his stomach until he can’t take it anymore and he’s coming with a shout, jaw going slack as he clenches around Jere behind him and soon enough he’s being filled.

Bojan drapes a flannel over Jere who’s made himself comfortable on a pile of hay back in the barn.

“I mean it,” Jere says once Bojan’s settled in beside him. They have to return to their bunks eventually, but for now, they revel in the afterglow.

“What?”

“Maybe one day we have our own farm.”

Bojan doesn’t dare move. Doesn’t let the deluge of ‘what ifs’ wash over him like it normally would during the day. Instead, he slowly nods and pulls Jere even tighter against his chest.

“Three pigs,” he says.

“Three pigs,” Jere beams.

#mito writes #bojere #short drabble

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 91: Contingency

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 11 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, references to anxiety, generally chaotic/anxiety-inducing situations, pregnancy... ❧ Word Count: 5.7k

❧ In This Chapter: It's been a week since Aaron and Gabriel left to investigate a settlement, and two days since Daryl left with Hornsby and the Commonwealth Army to find them. Now, you're alone, with the kids, and nine months pregnant. It can't get worse, right?

❧ A/N: We're back??? With a new chapter??? Wow. Cool. Crazy. So um we're getting to the end of The Beginning! Or is it? Is there ever really an end? Or a beginning for that matter? These are the existential questions of the series I guess? Idk it's not that deep. Anyway, there is (sadly) no Daryl in this chapter. He's off being a sexy boyboss with great hair and trying to get back to his family to get them out of Commonwealth, but for now, it's Reader (she's basically her own character by now lmao) and the kiddos just hanging out in Commonwealth, trying to stay alive lol. Lots of stuff going on in their world rn, but the priority is, of course, Daryl Jr.

Two days, and no word about what was going on with the soldiers they sent out to investigate the attack at Riverbend. When you’d tried to ask, inquiring about the safety of your husband and brother, you were told that you were on a “need to know” basis. In other words, if you needed to know, they’d tell you.

Hornsby must’ve decided you didn’t need to know, because when you confronted Mercer, he told you the same thing.

The stress of it all was beginning to get to you, more than it ever had before. You swore that even living on the road for six months after you lost the farm was easier than this. Then again, you weren’t about nine months pregnant, taking care of four children, and worrying desperately about Daryl and Aaron, all while outside your apartment, hundreds of Commonwealth citizens protested in front of the City Hall, demanding justice after learning about Sebastian’s schemes. At least you had a roof over your head, and plenty of food.

Food that was burning as you stood staring out the kitchen window, watching the protesters brandishing handmade signs, with the words Find him!, Money for LIVES, and How many more have you killed? You absentmindedly held the ten-year-old amethyst around your neck as you chewed your lip in thought, wondering about nothing and everything.

The people chanted, “We want justice!” over and over and over again. You couldn’t blame them. You’d be out there with them if you weren’t cooking breakfast for the kids.

What’s that burning smell?

“Aunt (Y/N),” Judith’s voice alerted you.

“Hm?”

“The pancakes are burning.”

“Oh!”

You scurried back to the stove, where sure enough your pancakes had been charred beyond edibleness. “Shoot,” you huffed, always mindful not to curse in front of the children. “Sorry.”

The four children, Judith, RJ, Gracie, and, of course, your Robin, were sitting at the circular dining room table, each tending to their own crafts. Judith and RJ were drawing, Gracie worked on her beaded jewelry, and Robin was experimenting with watercolors (Daryl had bought her a new set a few months ago).

As you scooped the burnt, lifeless pancakes into the trash can, Robin stood up to take her water cup and brushes to the sink, where she diligently washed her art supplies. “Mommy,” she said, “when are they coming home?”

You didn’t have to ask, you knew she was referring to her father and her uncle.

The other children’s heads perked up at the question, as if they, too, were very curious about the answer.

“Soon, I’m sure,” you replied, offering them a reassuring smile. It was oh, so tiring to pretend that you weren’t incredibly worried that something had happened to them, but you had to put on a brave face for the young ones, especially Robin and Gracie. “Don’t tell me you like their cooking better.”

Robin shrugged as her lip quirked into a precious little smirk. “No… I like Daddy’s pancakes better, though.”

Daryl could only really make two dishes: blueberry pancakes, and stew with squirrels or possum or some other type of roadkill.

You scruffed up her hair in faux teasing. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I do too.”

The little girl returned to her seat to continue her painting, and just as you were about to prepare another batch of pancake batter, you felt a sharp tightening in your lower belly, which you were reluctant to admit you had been feeling a lot more lately.

You exhaled a sharp hiss as you held your belly instinctively, slightly doubling over. It was the worst cramp you’d felt yet, and it’d only been getting increasingly strong. Of course, you were brushing it aside as Braxton Hicks contractions, but the closer you got to your due date, April twentieth, the more you began to worry. Really, the baby was due to come any day now, though you were too afraid to even acknowledge it. Daryl wasn’t here, and him not being here terrified you. There was no way you were going to have this baby without him holding your hand. It simply couldn’t happen that way. He gave you strength, made you feel safe. Most of all, you knew he’d hate himself if he missed it, seeing his son’s first moments.

“You okay?” asked Judith, while Robin looked wide-eyed and panicked as you winced in pain. “Aunt (Y/N)?”

You shook your head, as if to dismiss the concern. “I’m fine,” you said. “Baby’s just… restless.”

When you lifted your head to calm yourself, you found your eyes drawn to the crowd outside again, particularly to two people, a man and a woman, who were fast-walking through the crowd with a stern, cold determination in their eyes and a harshness in their step. They looked to be heading towards the downstairs entrance to your apartment building, and when you stepped a little closer, you could recognize their faces.

Eugene had told your inner circle about a run-in he’d had with two of Hornsby’s minions. If you remembered correctly, it was them, and you weren’t about to risk anything.

“What’s wrong?” asked Gracie, noticing your face deepen with concern.

“Um… maybe nothing…” Your paranoia got the best of you, and you turned to face the children, trying your hardest not to scare them, though you looked drained of color and slightly wide-eyed. “Okay, we’re gonna play a game.”

Judith furrowed her brows. “Game? But what about breakfast?”

“We’ll have breakfast later,” you said, frantically beginning to clear up the counter. “Right now, we’re gonna play the, um… Quiet Game.”

Judith and RJ hid in the shower, while Gracie hid under your bed. Robin was the last one to hide, while you scrambled to make the place look less lived-in, in case Hornsby’s goons really were after you and the kids. After all, you had quite a bit to do with Connie’s exposé, and you were starting to wonder if Daryl and Aaron were facing problems with the Commonwealth outside the walls. It’d make sense for them to go looking for you and the kids, to ask you questions… Robin didn’t understand that, but she wanted to.

“What’s going on?” she asked, with all the innocence of a six-year-old (almost seven, she would have you know). “Why are we hiding?”

You sighed as you knelt down to hold her hand, looking her sternly in the eyes as you spoke. “I’m not exactly sure, but… I think there might be some people looking for us, some people we’d rather not talk to. Do you understand?”

Her silvery blue eyes blinked rapidly as her mouth gaped slightly in confusion. She was much too precious, much too young to really understand everything that led to this.

You held her shoulders and offered a smile, though it was hard to smile when you began to hear the heavy, fast-paced footsteps coming up the stairs in the hallway.

“Look at me, baby,” you said. “Everything’s gonna be fine, just… listen to me. I need you to hide in that cupboard, the empty one by the fridge. Quiet Game means you gotta try to be as quiet as possible, otherwise you’ll get caught. Like Hide and Seek, but you really don’t want to be found. I’m going to be outside, right on the balcony. I’m too big to hide anywhere in here without getting caught, but if they find you, you make a lot of noise and I’ll help you, okay?”

It was a lot for her to process, but she was a smart child, and obedient. If told to stay quiet, you knew she would, even if she didn’t completely know why. “Okay,” she said with a nod. “What about the baby?”

You looked down to follow her gaze, which was directed at your belly. “He’s fine,” you said, and when you heard those footsteps begin to slow, but come closer, you stood up to quickly open the cabinet and coerce Robin’s small body into the cupboard. “Stay in there until I say the coast is clear, and be quiet.”

Before heading towards the balcony door, you pulled a freshly sharpened butcher knife from the wooden block on the counter, then silently opened and closed the door to hide against the wall on the balcony, waiting.

Soon, you heard a knock at the door, and you were sure your paranoia had paid off. The door opened just a few seconds later, and though you couldn’t see inside the kitchen, you knew they were there. You felt them there, as if your motherly instincts told you your child was frightened, and she was.

Robin’s breath hitched as she peered out through the small crevice between the cabinet doors, allowing her to see the large, bald man walking around the kitchen, while a woman with dark hair entered her bedroom, then Judith and RJ’s bedroom, then the master bedroom, then the bathroom…

The man stayed in the kitchen, though, his presence terrifying the young child, though he seemed to not know she was just a few feet away from him, cowering in the cabinet.

Memories floated to the surface, invoking that same feeling of dread as when she’d hidden herself in that secret compartment within her closet back at home, while the evil giant in the dead man’s mask who still haunted her dreams a year later lumbered around her bedroom, looking for her.

When she felt a lump begin to form in her throat, and a whimper about to release from her lips, she cupped both hands over her mouth to silence herself. The man came closer, though, examining the fridge, upon which were several drawings, paintings, and photographs that had been collected by your family the last seven or eight months.

There was one that had been taken at the Autumn festival, with you, Robin, RJ, and Judith in your costumes, and Daryl dressed as he normally did, but a sweet, soft grin upon his face as he held Robin’s hand, who held yours, too. His other hand rested on Judith’s shoulder, and yours on RJ’s, with your belly much smaller than it was now. Carol had taken the photo, and when it developed, you were almost tempted to make holiday greeting cards, though you knew that kind of thing was both unnecessary and slightly annoying. In any case, it belonged on your fridge, until the bald man took it, and stuffed it in his pocket.

He moved away from the fridge then, allowing Robin to silently release her breath as a small tear trickled down her cheek.

The woman soon emerged from the hallway. “It’s empty,” she said. “Are you sure he didn’t say anything else?”

“Dixon was the only name that came through,” the man replied, sending a fresh wave of panic through the youngest Dixon’s chest.

She watched the woman cross the kitchen to peer out the glass door leading to the balcony, and for a moment, Robin feared that the woman would open it, though if she knew her mother well enough, she figured that woman would be in big trouble if she did open the door and find you.

Indeed, you held your knife close to your chest, blade pointed upwards and ready to strike if the woman came outside.

There was silence for a while, when the woman crossed back over to the dining room table where Robin and the other children had been sitting just minutes ago.

She investigated the assortment of craft materials splayed out on the table, and spoke once more before they left: “Let’s check the school.”

When you heard the door close, and waited a few moments in silence, you quickly returned to the kitchen to open the cabinet, ushering Robin out. “Come on,” you said, still trying to be quiet. “We’re leaving.”

To where, you weren’t exactly sure, but you had friends here, so surely someone from Alexandria would take you in. One thing was certain, you weren’t going to leave the Commonwealth, not with your baby so close to his due date.

You retrieved the other kids, and instructed them to pack their school backpacks for the day. Whatever was going on, you didn’t like the sound of what the man had said, about the name “Dixon.” It seemed as though you were wanted, by Hornsby.

When the kids were prepared, you slung your purse over your shoulder and picked up the emergency hospital bag Daryl had meticulously put together (intending to be even more prepared this time when the baby would come). You turned to face the curious, confused, and slightly concerned children, then gave them yet another assuring smile. “We’re going on a little adventure today,” you said, in a slightly sing-song voice. They weren’t buying it. They were all too smart.

As you turned to open the front door, you heard more footsteps just outside, and the sound of shifting movements. Great, you thought. We’re America’s Most Wanted.

Your voice turned serious once again. “I need you guys to go back to the bedroom and wait,” you said quietly, gesturing towards Robin’s room. “And don’t come out until I call. Go.”

They each nodded obediently, retreating to Robin’s bedroom.

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure as you prepared to answer the door. This time, though, a familiar voice called out to you from the other side. “(Y/N),” said Carol, whispering rather loudly. “Are you home?”

With a sigh of relief, you slowly opened the door, revealing Carol, and then Jerry behind her. The further you opened the door, the more surprised you became.

Negan’s face showed itself, slightly smirking at you. It was a familiar sight, but not an expected one.

Your brows furrowed as your jaw dropped a little. You hadn’t seen him in… almost a year. Not that you particularly missed him. “Negan?”

He smiled, lifting his hands a little as if to present himself as a gift. “Well, if it isn’t the goddamn Ice Queen herself. How are you, sweetheart?” His eyes immediately trailed to your stomach, where one hand cradled your baby bump. “Ho-ly shit, you’ve been busy.”

The three visitors came inside, with Jerry standing “guard” behind the front door. Though at first you were mostly irritated to see Negan again, he quickly made himself useful, sitting down with you and Carol to inform you about what was going on outside the walls. But of course, the first question you could ask him was, “Daryl and Aaron, are they all right?”

“Depends what you mean by ‘all right.’”

You glowered at Negan, both worried and incredibly annoyed by his Negan-isms. “Now is not the time.”

“They’re alive,” he said. “But they’re being hunted. Maggie and Gabriel are with them, too. What I know is that Hornsby brought Daryl, Aaron, and Gabe to Hilltop with the whole Stormtrooper Squad, and Maggie didn’t, uh… respond well.”

“What exactly happened?” asked Carol.

“Hornsby tried to scare Maggie by interrogating Hershel, so the thought is that he is somehow gonna use the kid to draw her people out.”

“And Daryl wouldn’t let that happen,” you said, understanding your husband’s motivations to turn against Hornsby. “Right?”

“Your man turned an automatic rifle on the bastard and tried to hit him with a car at full speed,” he replied. “I’d say they aren’t exactly on good terms.”

“And that’s why they came here,” figured Carol.

Negan nodded. “Uh huh.”

You thought for a moment, processing the whole thing. “But if Hornsby sent those two,” you said, “that means he’s keeping it under the radar.”

“Which means we might be able to get ahead of them,” Carol added. “And him.” You could see the cogs working in Carol’s mind. She always had a plan, even if they weren’t always the best plans. At least she thought of something. “Jerry, do you still have access to that attic space?”

You looked wide-eyed between Carol and Jerry, not knowing that there was such a thing. “Attic space?” you asked.

“Contingency plan,” replied Jerry. “It’s stocked with supplies, too. No one knows about it. Well, except Carol.”

“Keep the kids there and get word to the others,” instructed Carol. “Tell them to be ready to move on your signal.”

“Get ready for what?” you asked. “I mean, it’s not like we can just… stroll out the front gate.”

“That’s why me and Negan are gonna try to get some insurance,” she replied.

That sounded all fine and dandy, but there were still some things to be discussed. “I hate to sound self-centered,” you said, “but, where exactly do I fit into this plan?”

“Aren’t you pregnant?” asked Negan. “Or are you hiding a watermelon under that dress?”

If you weren’t trying to get along with Negan for the sake of your family and friends, you’d consider telling him off, but there was no time to argue. “I’m pregnant,” you said, “but the kids are my responsibility. If anything happens to them—”

“(Y/N),” said Carol, reaching over to place a hand over yours. “Jerry will take care of the kids… You should stay here. You can’t be running around.”

Indeed, your feet were swollen and aching terribly, and your legs could barely carry you. To get through the crowd undetected, you’d have to be quick on your feet. You weren’t physically able to do that now. Not with a good ten pounds added to your abdomen.

Still, there was that other terrible feeling: loneliness. If Jerry took the kids by himself, you’d be alone, and you were scared. As much as you hated to admit it, after everything you’d been through, being without Daryl, or even Aaron, this far into your pregnancy, when you were sure you were going to go into labor soon, was difficult. You couldn’t say that in front of Carol, though. She was known to be unforgiving and, at times, rather coldhearted, even to you.

“Okay,” you said. “But… Jerry, please don’t let anything happen to them.”

He offered a smile. You trusted him immensely, but he wasn’t you. “Of course.”

You fetched the children from Robin’s room, telling them that they were to go with Uncle Jerry and to listen to everything he said. The other children joined Jerry in the living room, but Robin took a moment to hug you, holding her stuffed white rabbit in one hand as it dangled over your back.

“I love you, sweet pea,” you said, squeezing her tight as you kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you later, once this whole thing outside dies down. Maybe Daddy and Uncle Aaron will be home by then.” You pulled away to smile at her, and to brush her bangs aside. The almost blonde highlights in her wavy, caramel colored hair shone in the sunlight that poured through her bedroom window. She looked so much like her father, especially when you first met him. Her cheeks had that same delicate contour, but she was more youthful, and more perpetually curious looking. You supposed she inherited that from you. “You’re so precious to me,” you said. “You know that?”

She chewed her lip, then lowered her head as she spoke. “I don’t wanna go,” she said. “I wanna stay with you… Daddy told me to take care of you.”

Your eyes widened as you let out a chuckle and a snort. “What? That’s silly, I’m supposed to take care of you.” You poked her belly to elicit a small hiccup from the child. “Dog will take care of me.” You nodded to the sleeping canine, lounging on Robin’s bed.

She shook her head vehemently, with an adorably stern look on her face. The tightness in her lips was uncharacteristic of her, but it was always interesting to see a new side of Robin. “No,” she said, for the first time in her life being particularly disobedient, and stubborn. “I’m not going nowhere. I’m staying with you. That’s what Daddy would want, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

You tilted your head and sighed. “Robin Elizabeth,” you said, and she knew that when you used her two names, you were serious, “where is this coming from?”

“Dixon’s stay together,” she said, showing you her bracelet, the familiar beads spelling out DIXON. “And you shouldn’t be alone. You and the baby.”

“Robin, I—”

“Almost ready, kiddo?” Negan’s voice interrupted you unintentionally, and Robin smiled at the man, though her eyes remained serious.

“Hi, Negan,” she said, crossing her room to hug him. “Where have you been?”

“Oh, here and there… Hey, you ready to go with Jerry?”

She looked between you and Negan, then firmly stood her ground. Well, as firmly as she could. She still wasn’t quite used to this “rebellious” thing. “I want to stay with my mom,” she said, putting on her grown-up voice she’d recently developed. “I’m not going anywhere without her.”

You shook your head and crossed your arms, unsure of what to do. “She should go with the others,” you said. “It’ll be safer once they get to the attic.”

“Kid, why don’t you let me talk to your mom for a minute?” he asked. “Maybe I can talk some sense into her.”

Negan? Talking sense? Into me?

Robin headed into the living room, and Negan gently shut the door behind her, turning to face you as you sat yourself on the rocking chair by Daryl Jr.’s crib. “She can be stubborn,” you said. “But not like this. She always listens to me. She might… fight it a little, but she listens.”

Negan huffed as he leaned against the wall, his eyes trailing around Robin’s bedroom, then finally landing on you. “She should stay,” he said. “In case…” He gestured with his finger towards your abdomen. “You know.”

“Pfft,” you scoffed. “What is my six-year-old daughter going to do? She’s just a child herself. I need… I need Daryl. I’m so scared. Everything is just… not working out the way I thought it would.”

“How did you think it would go?”

“Well,” you sighed, “I didn’t think Daryl and Aaron would go rogue, but I know they have their reasons. This place isn’t like what we thought it was. Or maybe it’s exactly like what we thought it was… I don’t know. I just… I thought I could have the baby here, and then go back to Alexandria, once everything was fixed. Carry on, like it was before the Whisperers. What I really want is to not be afraid for once. For a while, I guess I wasn’t, but it’s always there. Fear. The older I get, the more I realize that it never goes away, and that we just find more things to be afraid of.”

You felt the baby kick inside you, as he had been doing for a while now, though this one felt stronger than all the others. “Now, this baby… I’m afraid he’s not going to have the life Robin did, and I’m afraid that Robin won’t have that life again, either. I thought… I thought they would be okay. I think I got my hopes up again. I always get my hopes up. God, I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” replied Negan, in that serious tone of his. “You were trying. Trying to live. And, Hell, it’s working. You’ve made it this far.”

“But you said they’re hunting us, hunting our people. Trying to kill them. What kind of life is that? And for this?” You gestured to the air around you. “This place is corrupt. It’s like… everything bad about the old world in one place.”

“Maybe,” agreed Negan. “But what’s important right now is sticking together, and your kid, she’s smart. She knows that. Let her stay with you. Besides, no one can keep her safer than you.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Well, Daryl could… But I would do anything to keep her safe.”

You thought for a moment, stroking your abdomen as you felt another kick, and another, stronger contraction. Negan eyed you worryingly, then stepped closer, kneeling down to face you. “You all right?” he asked.

“Mhm. Fine.”

Negan was suspicious, but he also knew you well enough to know that if you really thought it was bad, you’d say so. “What’s the story?” he asked, nodding towards your stomach.

“What do you think?” you asked. “Do you know how babies are made, Negan? Or is that beyond your comprehension level?”

He chuckled under his breath. “Yeah… You know, I got married.”

You scrunched your face in confusion. “What?”

“Yeah, met a lady out there… Her name’s Annie. She’s with Daryl and the others right now, actually.” He smiled as you continued to stare at him in bewilderment. “What, are you surprised?”

“Frankly, yes. What woman in her right mind would—” His smile began to fade, and though you had no reason to, you felt a little bad. You still hated him, but you felt bad. Just a little. “I mean, um… I am a little surprised, yes. You don’t… seem like the marrying type.” That was a nicer way to say what you were really thinking, which was that any woman who would willingly marry Negan either didn’t know about his past, or knew about it, and was an equally morally bankrupt person.

“Hm, you know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the Ice Queen is a little jealous.”

Your eyes widened in amusement. “Jealous? Oh, please, don’t make me laugh. I’m nine months pregnant, my bladder can’t take it.”

“Oh,” he said, standing back on his feet, “that reminds me, Annie’s pregnant, too.”

You huffed and folded your arms over your belly. “You’re messing with me, right?”

“Nope,” he said, hitting the p sound especially hard. “Not as far along as you, but she’s got a bun in the oven.”

You tilted your head and glared slightly at him. “Is this information supposed to make me like you or something? Some kind of… Negan redemption arc?”

He only chuckled, then turned to leave Robin’s room. “You gonna be okay, you and her, and the baby?”

“Fine,” you said. “Daryl Jr. isn’t coming out today. I won’t let him.”

Famous last words.

Robin sat upon the window seat in her bedroom, looking out to keep an eye out for Jerry and her “cousins” as he led them through the crowd. The protests continued, with chaos remaining mostly under control, which soothed your anxiety just a little as you worried about the children.

Wherever Negan and Carol were, you hoped they were getting the information they needed to intercept Hornsby and his men and get Daryl, Aaron, and the others back home. Meanwhile, you just had to stay vigilant, hoping no more goons showed up at your door to question you.

At least you got to stay home, keeping watch at the living room window, and trying not to worry too much about the increasing strength and decreasing intervals of your contractions.

Dog sat curled up on the couch, keeping an eye on you, as if Daryl had instructed the canine to keep you safe, too. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had. “What are you looking at?” you asked him. “I’m fine.”

You weren’t fine.

Not long after that, you felt a much larger contraction, one that had you completely doubled over as you dropped your binoculars on the hardwood floor. “Oh, God!” you cried out, now kneeling on the floor, already tearing up from the pain. Your hand reached out to grab the edge of the couch as Dog jumped up to stand by your side, his nose nudging you repeatedly. The canine began to whine loudly, and soon Robin was hurriedly approaching, eyes wide and voice full of panic. “Mommy?” she asked. “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

“I…” You shook your head vehemently, your speech gone for a moment as you tried to process the pain. “The baby’s coming… The baby’s… definitely, definitely coming.”

The child froze, unsure of what to do. After all, what was she supposed to do? She had no idea how to help you, but she knew about the emergency bag by the door, the one Daryl constantly was adding things to. She scurried across the room to pick up the bag and bring it to you.

“What do I need to do?” she asked frantically.

“H-help me up,” you said, holding out your hand. You felt horrible, having to ask little Robin to help you up, but there wasn’t any other way you could get up, and you needed to get to the hospital. She did what she could, though she was too weak to help you up completely.

Once you stood on your feet, you took the bag from her, and shakily crossed the room to sling your purse over your shoulder. “Come on,” you said breathlessly, realizing you had no choice but to take Robin with you. There was no way you were about to leave her alone. “We’re going to the hospital.”

It was at this moment you desperately wished you still owned a car. You hadn’t driven one in so long you wondered if you even remembered how to drive in the first place, but that didn’t matter—all you could do was walk.

One hand holding your bag, the other holding Robin’s hand, the two of you walked quickly through the protesters, trying to tune out their shouting as you walked.

You were fortunate that the hospital wasn’t too far away, but when the sound of a man’s voice over a megaphone sounded, you stopped in your tracks, keeping Robin close.

“A swarm has been detected five miles out!” he said. “Lockdown has been instituted by order of Governor Pamela Milton. Return to your homes immediately.”

The chanting began to die down, but the citizens still bickered in confusion. “After curfew, anyone found on the streets will be arrested for their own safety.”

He continued speaking, repeating his message, and mentioning something about “the brave Commonwealth Army.” You didn’t care to listen, as you had no other choice but to keep walking in the opposite direction of your home. You came here with the intention of having your baby at a hospital, and that’s what you were going to do.

Robin held your hand tighter as you moved faster, the contractions getting stronger and longer with each passing moment. “Come on, baby,” you said, not wanting to lose her in the chaos. “We’re almost there.”

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“I don’t know… but we need to keep moving.” You tightened your grip and kept her closer as people began to move faster, anxiously returning to their homes. Soon you were swarmed, people everywhere you looked, pushing and shoving as a stampede began to form. “Stay close to me,” you said to Robin, pulling her against your leg. “Stay—”

Another intense, sharp contraction had you doubled over, stopping momentarily as you lost feeling in your legs. You felt the wetness of your water breaking, dripping down your legs underneath your maternity dress. If you had any lingering, hopeful doubts that this was actually labor, they were gone now.

The immense, terrible pain of your contraction forced you to let go of Robin’s hand as you fell to your knees on the concrete sidewalk, with dozens upon dozens of people trampling over each other, and over you, too. You quickly realized you no longer held your child’s hand, and you turned your head frantically to look for her—she was nowhere to be seen.

“Robin!” you cried out, tears flooding your voice as it cracked in desperation. “Oh, God! Robin!”

You tried to stand, but several people had pushed you back down as they stumbled over you in the stampede, of which you were in the middle. Another contraction had you screaming in agony, holding your stomach as you wept, crying out Robin’s name in the ensuing chaos.

“Help!” you finally yelled, no longer able to pretend you could do this alone. “Please! Help me!” It was humiliating, and you felt so weak, but at the same time, what else were you supposed to do?

For a moment, your eyesight became hazy, and your head swayed back and forth deliriously until you began to fall over completely, but when a hand cupped underneath your arm, lifting you up, you came to.

“(Y/N),” huffed Ezekiel. “You all right?”

You shook your head as you tried to make out his face, and when you tried to break free from his grasp, he held you tighter by your arms. “Robin!” you said. “Robin, I can’t find Robin! She was holding my hand, and then…”

Ezekiel noticed the water around your feet, and the stain on your dress. “Your water broke?” he asked, and you could only nod, sobbing as you looked around for Robin.

Soon, you felt another hand on your shoulder—it was Connie, with Kelly by her side, and thank God they were there. Ezekiel’s mind moved at the speed of light as he thought of what to do in the chaos of the moment. “You two get her to the hospital,” he said, making sure Connie read his lips. He turned back to you, making sure you were paying attention to him. “I’m going to find Robin,” he said. “Get to the hospital.”

In your panic, you could only nod and wipe your face of your tears, as Connie and Kelly held your arms and helped direct you towards the hospital, clearing the way through the crowd.

You couldn’t say you were completely conscious, because at times you felt like you had passed out from the pain and the worry and the fear, but your friends kept you stabilized, until the pristine whiteness of the hospital flooded your vision, and soon you felt yourself become horizontal, on a hospital bed, you presumed, if your mind was in any state to make presumptions.

The rest was a blur, a cocktail of profound agony and confusion. Outside, you swore you heard screaming, and something akin to canisters being dropped, but maybe that was your imagination. In any case, at some point you’d passed out, but not before hearing one last thing. It was very faint, fragile, blurred by the heavy beating of your heart.

It was the sound of a baby crying.

Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs of any kind are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

✏ Taglist

If you seen your name is on the taglist but you didn’t get tagged, it’s because Tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason, sorry!

#daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus #the beginning series

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rjschoicesstuff · 2 months

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Some fun facts or whatever about Rex (My main Blades mc) cause I'm thinking about her (probably very incoherent cause I've had a long day and my brain is fried and I'm not gonna check this for mistakes)

-I imagine he got orphaned + adopted at around 1,5 year old + he's older than Kade.

-I imagine (or ig it's been confirmed anyway) orc anatomy is different from humans and elves + humans have very little knowledge about orcs cause they live so isolated from the rest, it was just decided to raise her as a boy alongside Kade when they were adopted. As she got older she started experimenting more with more feminine expression, I don't think she would have the words for it, but she's basically bigender. She's very indifferent about it all though, if people ask for clarification about her gender she's just kinda like 'you can't really go wrong with either'. Like as long as people are respectful she's happy. She uses mixed masculine and feminine titles except for that she's just Kade's brother and not his sister and she's her kids' mother and not their father.

-I imagine he was the only orc in Riverbend and all the orcs he'd ever seen there were just people passing through, and so few that he can count them on two hands. If there'd been any he would probably have latched onto them a bit. Like I imagine in Riverbend he was always treated as one of them but that didn't mean that he never felt different + wanted to get to know others like himself u know?

-Due to being the only orc she often landed jobs where strength was important, and would just be people's go-to when they needed a strong person. This was something she definitely prided herself in and it made her happy to feel like she was needed and really had a role in the community. Though I think in a way that also caused her to downplay all her other qualities.

-He really really wants to connect with Orc culture and he's just like really excited when he meets Imtura and is finally surrounded by a lot of other orcs for a bit and doesn't stand out so much in the crowd. Though at the same time it becomes so clear that he's been raised in a human village and he's nothing like them. And I think in a way that makes him feel embarassed? Once they're done Saving The World I imagine Imtura will really properly show him Flotilla and orc culture and he just feels weird being an orc and having to be shown all this stuff, like he's just a human in an orc suit kinda? I imagine he'll live there for a bit and definitely gets more acquainted with the culture and everything and it is very healing in a way. Especially because apparently he still has living biological family members too, whom he gets to know now. But to some degree it also makes him realise that he's always going to feel a little bit like an outsider, no matter where he is. Tbh I think it would just really help him to meet another person like him, but I'm not sure if he ever will.

-She's not very interested in humans romantically + sexually cause they're so small and weak compared to her and she thinks she would Break them lol. I imagine she's definitely had a girlfriend or two in her teens, like it's not like she doesn't ever find them attractive (though she definitely prefers elves and especially orcs) but it just doesn't really Work for her because she's always kinda holding back because she doesn't wanna hurt them. To some degree she feels that with elves too (or I guess just Tyril because he's the only elf she'll ever be with probably) but at least the height difference is less daunting.

-He avoids using magic cause he doesn't want to shorten his lifespan much, he's also more likely to use it for healing than for battle. He worries a lot about losing track of how much he's using too, once he won't have to, he will never use magic ever again. (This one's a headcanon I had before book 2 was out)

#headcanon #mc: rex

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kfanopinions · 2 years

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Haechan Ideal Type (Astrology Based)

i will be looking into haechan's moon and venus for this. as i don't see any birth time (if anyone knows please notify me) so i will not look into any of the houses

leo moon || gemini venus

okay so there wasn't a lot of information in each category so i'm going to combine everything into one section. i think i'll start doing this from now on (especially when house placements aren't known)

"you change your mind, like a girl changes clothes" in a relationship haechan's partner needs to be able to handle his flip floppy attitude. one second in their life and present, the next second hard to reach. can even be, one second smothering you with affection, the next stand-offish

this mostly pertains to the type of person he is with...

partner a: complains a lot and depends on him for EVERYTHING he'll want to be far away from them as possible and may even insult them just to showcase how much he truly doesn't like being around them (but he won't break up. leo moon's unless there is a damn good reason are faithful despite being miserable in a relationship) partner b (the winner/ideal type): self-sufficient can solve their own problems and doesn't depend on him to be there if they are in a sticky situation. this will bring out haechan's affectionate side. now with this, i do want to say that i think he can truly be depended on as long as it's nothing too serious. if there are heavy emotions going on, he'll probably ghost people lol

"a "partner" worth fighting for!" someone who plays hard to get. he likes the chase, so if he finds his partner being too easy to get to he'll get bored rather quickly and may find someone else

i should also note that even if there is someone he is looking at with great interest, he probably has other people on the back burner just in case

"what's around the riverbend?" someone who loves life! he wants to share everything with his partner. go places, do things, live life with them so someone who enjoys being out and about as well will be a good match

someone playful and energetic as well! he wants to have fun with them. leo moons have this inner child quality about them so having fun/a good time is what they love

"she's in to superstitions...black cats and voodoo dolls" jk but someone who has this air of mystery around them. someone he can't figure out immediately will surely grab his attention. remember he likes the chase/the hunt so someone who really makes him fight for it will be someone he'll grow interested in

brains over beauty...well sort of seriously with his gemini venus someone who can stimulate his mind is going to be ideal for him. their intellect with trump their physical appearance. he likes sexy brains, but he's still a guy so he does like someone physically attractive to his standards that is

such a wise ass... someone who is sarcastic. seriously this dude is such a smart ass so someone who is just like him will be fun in his eyes

someone free-spirited and open-minded

"just do your thing" haechan is free and independent (air quality here) so this means someone who doesn't depend on him all the time. who can take care of themselves and handle things on their own. who goes after their dreams and doesn't have to ask him about them. someone he doesn't have to baby/worry about

"you don't own me" these damn air signs...i swear...so hard to tie them down...like a balloon floating in the wind... -_- okay, haechan with his gemini venus self is a free person (as stated above) which means he doesn't want to be tied down or doesn't like the illusion of being tied down. so someone who is possessive is a no-go

(thanks a lot haechan...your scorpio noona here is heartbroken now T.T)

i challenge thee! someone who can hold their own in a debate/argument. it wouldn't surprise me at all if this little sh*t (love you haechan <3) wouldn't start a fight on purpose. it's the mental stimulation that gets his blood pumping. of course this would be in good fun. think of it like how he purposefully pisses off doyoung, renjun and jeno, and to some extent jaemin until he cowers in the corner haha

lol someone with a good sense of humor

curiosity doesn't always kill the cat someone who is curious about the world and wants to expand their knowledge about different topics

so, what'cha into these days? he may like someone who keeps themselves busy with different hobbies/interests. i take this as they are keeping themselves busy, living their life how they want to, and can share their experience/knowledge with him

chatty kathy someone who is talkative! this gemini venus loves to have deep conversations. think on a more random/intellectual/philosophical level and less about "where is this relationship going." topics should be kept light and fun

extroverts vs introverts okay, so someone more out-going is ideal (social is a better word), but as i'm sure we've all seen haechan has an introverted side to himself. i don't think he would discriminate after first meeting someone (as i would think he'd be shy around them as well) but when he's seen/hung out with them a few times if they have a dry/shy/non-talkative personality he most likely won't be interested

"on the ground" someone who has their feet firmly planted on the ground. haechan is more logical/intellectually based. someone with their heads in the clouds may get the "why the hell am i with you?" look from him jkjk

#haechan #haechan ideal type #haechan nct dream #haechan nct 127 #nct 127 #nct dream #nct 127 ideal type #nct dream ideal type #kpop astrology #haechan astrology #nct dream astrology #nct astrology #nct 127 astrology

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thomasxsides · 1 year

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Intimately familiar, my ass. They've kissed. Made out even. /hj

- 🌌

(can't believe thomas gave us 4 mins of thomsleep content)

I think that’s exactly what’s meant by “intimately familiar”. Or more /lh

4 minutes straight gay of Thomsleep is a beautiful gift to receive indeed.

#thomas x sides #thomasxsides #ask around the riverbend #good anons #galaxy anon #sleepmas #thomsleep

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kharonion · 1 year

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🚓🎤🥢for both boys respectively? :3

core meme-ories | oc list [note: these are for the Cyberpunk 2077 blorbos]

🚓- River Ward

• VIKT — They meet each other after Vikt's retired from mercenary work, which at least means not having Johnny there hounding about "working with a cop". Helping River find Randy comes as just another gig—albeit one of the most fucked up he's done. Dinner with the family afterward is entirely different. It's the first time Vikt has any real interaction with children, which goes much better than he expects.

"Hey, V?" "Yeah?" "Did you let us win?" "Nope. You two are just that good."

River is also one of the very few who can get Vikt to let loose a little bit; them getting wasted up on the water tower and laughing about dumbass constellations they think exist is some of the most fun Vikt has (aside from the next morning, anyway).

• SÖREN — So, these two go back a bit. Ever the trouble making misfit, Sören got snagged by the badges so many times... and sometimes, that badge was River—who would grow tired of being called to Heywood for "a red-eyed hoodlum". Though eventually, the calls stopped, and it would be a handful of years before they meet again.

"Wait... Nightowl?" "Y'never did like calling me by my actual name." "Ah. You're the same as ever, punk." "Ditto that, snoopy."

They hang out a lot together after that. Which neither really expect. After all, what could a lawbreaker and a lawman possibly have in common... right? But, they end up growing close, realizing their paths are strikingly similar... and here, they cross yet again. Eventually, Sören convinces River to leave with him and the Aldecaldos. Leave Night City behind, hunt for something better and brighter—so long as they do it together.

🎤- Kerry Eurodyne

• VIKT — The first Vikt hears and sees Kerry proper (not counting the memories of Johnny he relives during the brain wreck caused by being dead) is laid out on a fancy sofa with a throbbing migraine, an expensive blanket draped over him, and the bright blue eyes of a rockerboy looking down at him with worry.

"Hey, hey, you okay?" "... No..." "That's alright. Just stay tight for a bit. Rest. Don't worry about a thing." "I— Thank you..." "You're... you're welcome. Now, quit stalling. Sleep."

From there, the two are unknowingly latched at the hip. Vikt helps with Kerry's problems, and Kerry provides the privacy of the villa when Vikt needs time out of the city. It's inevitable that their bond blossoms into more. The night on the rooftop of Dark Matter seals the deal, and their excursion on the yacht tells them it is the right call.

• SÖREN — The most interaction Sören has had with Kerry is going to one of his shows with River. They splurged, got the VIP treatment and everything. Met the legend face-to-face—a dream Sören's had for years.

"Holy shit, are you the Kerry Eurodyne? Really?!" "One and only." "Here, I have a gift for ya!" "Fuck, is that... where did you find police-grade 'nades?" "A man never tells. Now, I'm gonna hug you. Okay? Okay."

Needless to say, River is more than unimpressed.

🥢- Jackie Welles

• VIKT — Throughout his grueling years in Arasaka, Vikt ran things solo; at least, until a particular task fell into his lap. Putting a hit on an entire cartel that threatened Arasaka's infrastructure. It was too big of a job for one man, so Vikt took a risk to hire the help of another: the Valentinos. Specifically, a small group led by Jackie.

And, of course, there had to be a hitch. It ended up being a trap. Vikt had to defend himself, murder one of the most prolific cartels of Mexico—and unfortunately, most of the Valentinos alongside him didn't take kindly to that.

All who were left standing in the end were Vikt... and Jackie.

"So? Going to make this quick?" "Nah. There's... been too much death." "What's one more, hm?" "Listen. I don't want this... and neither do you. Consider me... an amigo, and none of this shit will see the light of day." "And why would you offer that?" "Call me inocente if you want. Just... got a feelin' I want you by my side." "Might be a mistake." "Might be."

From then on, Jackie is Vikt's one and only trusted confidant, and he ended up being the pillar that keeps Vikt standing after his life crumbles down to nothing.

• SÖREN — Sören was adopted into the Valentinos as a toddler, rescued from the gutters by Padre. He immediately latched onto Jackie as an older brother figure, and they were an inseparable duo of chaos. Jobs for the gang were a joint effort... except when Jackie was hired to help with the heist of a lifetime.

"Búho?" "What?" "I know you're upset, but... I need to know you'll be here when I get back." "I... I always will be, Jack. I ain't going anywhere. You're my family." "I love ya, hermano." "Don't say that like you won't return, you fuck..." "Oh, come on, don't—" "I love you, too."

It goes without saying that Sören is devastated seeing Jackie's body in the Delamain car. Like his heart has been ripped from his chest. And all he can still think about when he thinks of the man he calls his brother is that fateful day.

#holy heck i'm so sorry this turned into an essay ksjhdf #but i hope you enjoy the lore dump for both of the lads! ;;#it's so fun now that sören isn't also “v”... can have them both technically coexist in the same timeline... >:3 #thank you! <3 #oc: vikt #x: dark matter in our space #brotp: see you in the major leagues #oc: soren vogel #x: just around the riverbend #brotp: hasta la muerte #.asks

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secret-fungi · 11 months

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Moonlit Garden

Pairing: Tyril x F! elf MC (odelia)

word count: 2k (i tried so hard dudes)

Rating: e

Category: Fluff and smut (ik it surprised me too)

warnings: sex

Summary: Tyril shows mc what he's done in their absence.

a/n: im not good at smut dont come at me im fragile

Tags @lawrencebarkley @choicesficwriterscreations @desired-love-

Tyril pulled yet another weed from his plant as Odelia walked up, a smile on her lips as she took in the garden. “I didn’t think you were the type.” she says “Neither did i, but in your absence…” he trailed off “busy hands, my father suggested.” he adds with a huff.

“Mal and nia had kids, and you… made a garden.” she says with a fond smile on her lips. “Flowers are a bit like kids, they have different needs, must have food, water, proper care…” At this she covered her mouth with her hand in a poor attempt to stifle her laughter.

“Haven’t been around many children, have you, Tyril?” “Of course I have, I’m excellent with them.” he brags, rising to his feet. “Somehow, I don’t trust that.” she teased. “You don’t have to believe, you could join me at a festival, all the little children love me.” “The one at Riverbend doesn’t count.” “why not?” he asks “because you’re the second elf they’ve seen and unlike me, you’re….” she paused, taking in the smile on his lips before smiling herself.

“A real elf.” She says He arched a brow, taking off his gloves carefully. “You’re a ‘real elf’, too.” he said. “Not like you. I didn’t even know I could do magic, and I can't do fancy undermount fireworks, I didn’t know any elvish curse words… I am not rich.” She lists making him laugh, the deep timber was rich and smooth. It rattled her bones and sent a chill down her body, the warmth settling in her core.

“Is that what makes one a ‘real elf’?” He asks “It’s your culture, and it's all just arcane rituals to me.” she explained, finally standing face to face with him. “It’s your culture too.” he assured. She gave him a sharp look but didn’t press the matter farther. “Will you show me your garden?” she asked

With a grin he offers her his arm. “The pathway is beautiful, what is it?” “moonstone.” he replied “this is the evening rain lily, above us is glowing Wisteria, it lights up to attract prey.” he explained with a grin.

The garden was beautiful, full of color and life, the path circling around a pond full of fae fish and all sorts of lovely creatures, the stop of the pond decorated with glowing water lilies and blossoms that had landed into the water. Trumpet shaped flowers hung from above, a blossoming orange tree stood tall off to the corner near the stone fence.

“These are called Four O’clocks because-” “They bloom at four o’clock?” she guessed. He gives a nod before showing her another flower “nightshade.” he said “why would you want something that could kill you in your pretty garden?” she asked. He gave her a look like she wasn’t quite up to speed with what was infront of her, but with a smile he continued on.

He went on, pointing out Lava Iris, a blossom with yellow, orange and black petals,

Moonflowers, white little things that almost seemed to give off an ethereal glow. Black pansies and flowers in a rainbow of colors that had petals shaped like hearts. Pink and red carnations, and a strange plant.

“I’ve never seen this one before.” “It’s called bleeding heart.” He informed. “Doesn’t much look like a heart.” she said. “A broken one, maybe.” he replied, leading her to the center of the garden. To flowers that looked like the night sky, all lit up with stars.

Picking one from the bush and offering it to her he smiled and said “And here is my favorite, NIghtblooms.”

The Garden was his love letter to a woman he didn’t know would return, his ode to a mage that came and went and came back again.

Odelia looked at the flower in a stunned silence, realization dawning on her as she stared at it, then back up at him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked “why’d you plant Nightblooms? Why are they all nightblooming?” she asked.

He smiled at her, raising his brows and tilting his head to the side. The woman flushed as he laughed. “That’s why Adrina said I should see it.” she said, pressing her hand to her warmed cheek.

“My father said that this wasn’t what he meant when he saw the nightblooms, but it is the pride of undermount.” he said with a proud grin.

“People come here to honor a hero that was lost for a while.” he added.

Suddenly the woman bursts into tears, as if she couldn’t contain them in her any longer, surging forward in an instant and pressing her lips to his, her arms coming to rest on top of his shoulders, her fingers digging into his hair.

He lifted her up with ease and she wrapped her legs around his hips without hesitation. Without breaking the kiss he walked towards a stone bench and sat on it.

“Rough landing.” she muttered into his lips. “Couldn’t see,” he said before capturing her mouth again.

Her hands encased his face as they kissed. Both of them tried to one up each other with how much love and desperation you could put into a kiss.

And though it was officially a tie, both of them were convinced that they were the winner.

“Tyril.” she cried out with a kiss to his cheek. his name had never sounded sweeter. “Darling.” she said with a kiss the other cheek, “Dinvalir.” she said with a kiss to his jaw. “A’mael.” a his to his neck.

“Kilvalir.” he rasped out, his grip on her hips tightening. She pauses, her head falling onto his shoulder. “What have I done to deserve you?” she wonders. “I wonder that myself, the most beautiful person that I've ever seen, and out of everyone you chose me?” He marvels “You’re perfect and I can't believe you love me.” he admits. She lifts her head to look at him, her cheeks flushed and a horribly fond look on her face. “There is no one else, Tyril.” she said, her fingers moving to free him of his clothes. “It’s a public garden.” “No qualms, right?” she asked with a grin.

“You’re a bad influence.” he said, his own hands working the ties of her shirt.

He kissed the freshly exposed skin of her shoulder as she played with his hair.

“You’re beautiful.” he said, pressing a kiss to the center of her chest, his hands reaching to massage the other. He leaves open mouth kisses on her throat and across her breasts, leaving his marks as he did.

her hips rocked against him as he worked, pretty little cries came from the woman that nearly drove him mad with need.

“I need you.” he almost begged, lifting her from his lap to rid himself of his pants, she simply gathered her skirt up, a tent of sorts.

“Say it again.” he said “Dinvalir?” “That i’m the only one.” he clarified, “how could there be anyone else?” she asks as she sinks down onto him,

The couple share a gasp, a coil tightening in their stomachs.

She is so lovely, painted in love bites, flushed, her full lips swollen and parted so that her song could escape from those lips like honey.

He moves his hips to meet hers, his hand sliding under her skirt to find a treasure.

His eyes sought hers, when his hand met her core, her eyes half lidded and dazed with desire.

“Tyril!” she moans into the air, at once moving forward to silence herself with his lips.

Her hands roamed his body as if they had no home, then settled against his chest like it was made for her, one hand gripped his bicep and the other stayed over his heart.

They’ve had many kisses, desperately urgent, heated kisses that they snuck whenever they had a moment alone, chaste kisses, as thank you or to soothe a wound, jealous kisses. You name it.

But this was something else entirely. Desperate and frustrated but with all the care and tenderness of the chastest kiss.

a muttered chant fell against his lips, too out of sorts himself to register the three words she repeated like a prayer.

Her hips moved to meet his, they set a pace neither could keep up with for long, Her nails leaving crescent shaped marks in his arm and his hands leaving his fingers prints on her bum.

“There's just you, There's no one else.” she swears breathlessly, trapping his response with her lips to his.

He loved her, fully, completely. it was all consuming, this feeling that overtook him when he saw her, flushed and glowing, breasts freeing themselves from her top, almost begging him.

He broke the kiss, and captured her breast in his mouth.

“you’re so gorgeous for me.“ he rasped out, his voice low and rumbling, horribly affected by their actions and the sound of it sent electricity down her spine, leaving her tightly wound and just aching for that last thing to get her to the top.

He moved her to lay on her back, her hair falling loose from its braided prison.

“I love you.” he swears, his lips pressed against her chest, his hips working to meet hers that were slightly lifted to meet him.

She arched into him as he kissed the skin above her heart.

“You’re so- beautiful.” she said, reaching to tangle her fingers in his hair. “The most beautiful.” she rectified upon seeing his arched brow.

“There could never be anyone else for me.” he said “when with every beat of my heart it spells out your name, when my love for you is etched into my bones- very soul there could never-“ “Tyril!” she cried, trembling

“Kivalir.” he replied, holding on to watch her come undone, taking every detail in before he fell.

The term of endearment seemed to set her off, she melted beneath him as he came undone above her.

When the denizens of Undermount asked Tyril what the missing hero was like, he couldn’t find the words, all his feelings got trapped behind the lump in his throat.

Still they asked, and so he planted a orange tree, so that they might smell her, he planted nightshade, as it too used it’s beauty as a weapon, carnations to tell of his devotion, and lilies to tell of her joyful soul, Bleeding hearts to declare his love, and Nightbloom to tell her name, and for every night she was away, he set a blossom to the water, a nightbloom adrift, and prayer repeated.

“My love for you is like this garden, it shall not wither in the winter, and neither shall my feelings.” he swore, and the other took it to heart.

Every word he said she believed, maybe foolishly but no one had ever done what He had seemed to do easily, a public love letter was on a whole other level than begging a lover to hold her hand in the sunlight.

When she thinks back to the mayor’s son, promising forever while looking for his boots, and with age or maybe distance she understood that she was asking him to be something he wasn’t, and that maybe they loved each other but what they had wasn't love.

and then she thinks to Tyril, much more at stake than an angry father, the way he loved her would harm his quest to restore his house, she’ll bring disgrace to his house, but still he fell into her.

Still he erected a garden full of hearts and I love yous for all of undermount to see, because he loved her.

She realized she had asked all her lovers to be Tyril, even before she met him, she wished them to stand a little taller, be a little more romantic. She’d ask them to walk in the way he did, smile in the soft way he did, all in the name of the feeling of missing someone she hadn’t met yet.

and from the moment she saw him, there was something in the back of her mind that said “This is it.”

at the sound of his voice, the glare he wore felt so familiar, like she’s known him from the beginning, that in all her lives she’s sought after him.

Kade always used to say that she’d follow blue eyes off a cliff. The color always pulled her in, leaving her hypnotized. The mayor’s son, the village girl, a traveling merchant, she could never say no to them, and if she was more romantic, or maybe just braver than she is now. she’d admit outloud that some part of her, the part of her soul that was his was searching for him in all of the faces she came across. Desperate to find him but only knowing the color of his stare.

They both made a promise unbeknownst to the other, to love each other till their hearts gave out. Tyril made a secondary promise that after the afterglow fades and their bones resolidify to plant a million flowers.

#blades of light and shadow #bolas 2 #playchoices #pb bolas #tyril starfury #bolas tyril #fic writing #my fic #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #blades fic #choices blades #bolas fic #choices fic writers creations

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yourchemicallyimbalancedromance · 10 months

Text

“I Keep You Safe From Me”

Chapter Four: It’s Okay.

Ship: slow burn romantic analogical

CW/TW: panic attacks

POV: Logan

(No summary because I don’t want to give anything away.)

I’ve been really nervous to post this chapter because I feel like there are some really similar parallels in this to one-shots I’ve posted in the past so if you notice something similar please just be kind about it because there isn’t much I can do without restarting the last chapter<3

———————————————————————

He tried desperately to be as quiet as possible, no thanks to the help of Virgil, whose snores were growing slightly louder by the second.

His eyes darted around for a place to hide, to run to incase the stranger tried to open the door. If Virgil’s roommate saw them together like this he’d think they were dating. It was twisted logic, but that didn’t matter right now, its not like that wasn’t the same irrational fear and faulty mindset he already had daily.

Panic slowly washed through him when he realized there was no place to go, he was stuck. His palms grew moist and the pounding of his heart was back, thumping so hard he was scared it could rip out of his chest.

The time to be silent had passed, his breath caught in his throat. He couldnt breathe, he was gonna die, he—

A cold hand timidly grasped his arm, shocking him almost completely out of his spiral—almost.

He jumped, falling off the bed, before the hands grabbed him again hastily, keeping him from hitting the floor and dragging him back up.

He heard a click and the room was filled with light so bright that it burned his eyes. He blinked, trying to adjust to it.

When his vision was more clear, he looked at the person next to him, noticing the hand on his arm, It was skinny and pale. He looked up to see the person it was attached to, taking in the dyed purple hair, and the worried look on Virgil’s face.

He opened his mouth to apologize, though nothing came out but short and shallow gasps accompanied by sobs.

Virgil looked at him sympathetically, carefully pulling him closer until his back was against his chest. He tried not to make any too sudden movements.

Not knowing what would work specifically for Logan, he began humming. A tune that usually helped calm his nerves whenever he was stressed.

Even in his panicked state, the tune was eerily familiar. He ran through his memories, breathing slowing to normal without notice. What song was it? Disney, it was a Disney song, but which one?

Upon Virgil reaching the chorus, the realization finally dawned on him. It was from Pocahontas, “Just Around The Riverbend”

He relaxed against him without realizing it, and Virgil stopped abruptly once he noticed the shift in mood.

“You okay?” He asked after a minute or so. Logan nodded, fatigued.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He followed up, watching Logan carefully incase his anxiety started to get riled up again.

“I really..don’t.” Logan said hoarsely. If he explained why he was so upset, he’d have to explain that Virgil was the main problem; Well, not Virgil himself per sé, but the feelings he got whenever he even so much as glanced in his direction, and he did not want to go through that. Not now, not ever.

Virgil just nodded, “alright, that’s okay. We can just stay like this if you want”

Logan didn’t say anything to stop him when Virgil wrapped his arms around him gingerly. He was too exhausted to care, even though something inside him was screaming at him to move, to go back to his dorm, this was too risky!!! He tried his best to ignore it, to push it down. It was just him being friendly, that was all.

Logan listened as the stranger outside of the door ripped open boxes, tape screeching throughout the room, furniture being moved or put together.

He closed his eyes, and Virgil ran his thumb mercifully over Logan’s hand. He did all of this just as slowly as before, giving Logan a chance to back out if he needed or wanted to.

“Logan?” Virgil whispered so as not to disturb the peace of the person in his arms. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Logan’s eyes practically shot open at the question, leaving him utterly speechless, his mind glitching.

“Uh, I..I…” he spoke, or rather, stuttered.

“Sorry that was probably a really cringey question” Virgil laughed, throwing his head back against the headboard.

“No, I…I do” Logan finally said, trying to keep the jittery edge out of his voice. It worked, to some avail.

“Uh, why do you ask?” he said, looking around the room. Even when he wasn’t turned around to make eye contact with him, he was still avoiding it.

“Nothing, no reason.” Logan could practically hear the smile on Virgil’s face and his face felt hot.

His attention quickly diverted, however, to the laughter outside of the room.

It apparently had caught Virgil’s attention too, seeing as how as soon as he heard it he gently pushed himself out from under Logan and walked out into the common area.

Logan followed, missing the warmth he previously felt from Virgil’s touch.

Janus was standing next to a tall man wearing a black leather jacket paired with a plain white t-shirt, jeans ripped at the knees and black boots, finishing the outfit off with sunglasses. His hair was blonde—strawberry blonde—and he was holding an iced coffee.

The man was laughing at something on Janus’ phone when he looked up, locking eyes with Logan who immediately looked at the ground, scared he could see in his eyes what he was thinking.

Janus looked up as well, noticing the others presence after managing to look away from his phone and untangle himself from the depths of the conversation he was in.

“Oh, hey! Sorry for all the noise” Janus said through stifled laughter.

“who is…?” Virgil motioned towards the good looking man in front of him and raised a brow.

“Oh! Virgil, this is Remy. Remy, this is Virgil. And…?” Janus’ stare felt like the heat of a million suns were on Logan, accompanied by a spotlight, as he trailed off on his unspoken question: what was his name? He forced his gaze up, staring straight at Janus, or more like through him.

“It’s Logan, my name is Logan.” He answered, hands intertwined as tight as they could be behind his back.

“…and Logan. Virgil and Logan.” Janus finished.

“Wow, Jan. You never told me you were rooming with such a hunk” Remy commented, looking at Virgil with twinkling, emerald-like eyes.

Janus’ eyes widened and he jabbed Remy in the rib with his elbow as Virgil stood there stunned, not responding to the unsolicited remark.

“Ow! Jesus Christ, kidding! I was kidding!” Remy pleaded, clutching his side, almost dropping the no-doubt completely watered down coffee in his hand.

Logan was holding his hands together so tight he probably would have broke his fingers if he held them any tighter than he was now. He kept a straight face nevertheless, smothering the urge to grab Virgil’s hand and prove that he wasn’t available.

But he was. He was available, and it was his fault for not saying anything.

“So much for a good first impression” Janus chided, rolling his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Remy shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee and smirking at Virgil. A telltale sign that he, infact, was not joking.

Virgil ignored him, looking at Logan out of the corner of his eye. He noticed the whitening of his knuckles and began to scavenge through his mind for an excuse to get them out of this scenario.

Suddenly, it hit him. The Library.

He had been looking at the hours for the Library and how long it was open, earlier. He wanted to get a feel of the place without having to talk to people and gather information. Guess the student resources page of the website was resourceful after all.

“We’re gonna head to the library, Logan needs help with this project of his. Huge thing to tackle, tons of research needs to be done.” He declared, grabbing one of Logan’s hands and pulling it from the other, noticing the redness from them being pressed together so harshly.

He opened the door in a rush and pulled them out into the hall, not giving time for the pair to respond nor for Logan to react to the sudden action.

“Nice meeting you, bye!” He yelled—albeit half-heartedly—closing the door as fast as he could.

Logan had a death grip on Virgil’s hand, not wanting him to let go again.

“I am so sorry about…whatever that was.” Virgil sighed, talking normally as if his hand wasn’t being squeezed enough to cut off all circulation.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. You seemed..a lot more uncomfortable than I was, anyway.” Logan answered, not noticing how tight his grasp was until Virgil winced. He let go instantly, despite his need to do the opposite.

He had never been good at communicating his needs, especially not in relationships—not that they were in one or anything—. Though, putting on the persona of being “straight” for your parents acceptance kind of got in the way of that.

“I mean I wasn’t expecting him to say that, sure, but I wasn’t exactly uncomfortable.“ Virgil admitted, “but anyway, we could go to the library and hang out there for a while; it seemed like that really threw you off, your knuckles are white as snow.”

Logan nodded, a bit embarrassed.”uhm…” he cleared his throat. “…sure”

Virgil grabbed his hand tenderly, a striking contrast from the harshness of Logan’s touch, and began the descent down the hallway and the stairs, heading for the library in the next building.

** ** **

6:00 PM

Virgil was the first to walk in through the double doors, tugging Logan along behind him who was biting the thumbnail of his free hand anxiously.

The library was large, with a wooden floor and multiple rows of shelves lined up with books filled with anything of their desire. Round tables were all about, a few feet from each other on the right side of the building, chairs were stacked on top of them.

Sunlight streamed through the large windows that filled the left side of the building from top to bottom.

It was comfortably warm, and that made Logan’s nerves melt into the abyss for a moment until Virgil let go of his hand to walk over to one of the rows of shelves.

He followed him, noticing how he had stopped at a section labeled “Horror”. Virgil picked up a few books and turned them over, reading the back before deciding to put it back on the shelf. He eventually grabbed a book: “we need to talk about Kevin” By Lionel Shriver, and looked up to find Logan watching him.

“Not much of a gore fan. Psychological horror is more my vibe, yknow?” He clarified, opening the book to skim the first chapter.

Logan hated horror in any aspect, so no. He didn’t understand; but he nodded along nonetheless.

He waited a moment, watching Virgil’s eyes scan over the words of his newly acquired fascination, until he finally wandered over to the section labeled “Science Fiction”.

He looked over the books for a familiar face, eyes finally drifting upon one of his favorites of all time. “Frankenstein” by Mary Shelley. He had read it hundreds of times by now, yet it continued to be a favorite of his. He could recite it passage for passage, front to back.

He beamed, grabbing the book off of the shelf and walking over to one of the tables, taking down a chair.

Considering the building was empty apart from him, Virgil, and the sweet old librarian behind the front desk, the chair made a loud echoey sound as it hit the floor.

Virgil looked up from his book once more, and they locked eyes, making Logan almost melt into the chair as he sat down.

He opened the book slowly as Virgil pulled a chair down and sat in front of him. “Frankenstein?? You really are a nerd” Virgil laughed.

“It’s a good book, Virgil. A classic.” He responded without looking up from the sentence that he was in the middle of reading.

“Oh, I’m sure it is, Lo, I’m sure it is.” Virgil spoke, a sly smile on his face as he read near him quietly.

Logan didn’t care about the playful teasing, his mind was solely focused on what Virgil had called him: “Lo”

Lo..Lo..LoLoLoLoLo it repeated in his head consistently, so much so that he hadn’t noticed that he had read two full chapters without realizing it or registering any of the words.

He folded the corner of the page and closed the book, laying his head down on the table.

Virgil noticed this, a bit concerned. “You alright?” He questioned.

Logan’s face was red from the blush spreading across his cheeks for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“Yeah…yeah im fine, thanks for caring..Vee” the muffled reply came.

Virgil grinned, “‘course” was all he could say without crumbling into a giggling fit from the nickname.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #ts virgil #ts anxiety #logan sanders #ts logan #ts logic #janus sanders #ts janus #ts deciet #remy sanders #ts remy #ts sleep

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