#do i seriously have to go to urgent care AGAIN.

[unityrain24]

need to schedule a doctors appointment bc my foot got hurt and the earliest possible opening is MARCH? if u waited until then i don't think i'd be able to walk anymore!!

[sanjisboyfie]

∞ SNSTV : first year, first mission

this is the first chapter of my series "sensitive" (SNSTV = sensitive). since it's a series, this first chapter is going to be pretty "boring" in terms of romance, but it still full of satosugu interactions with reader...but probably not favorable ones as you'll see soon lol. anyway ! stay tuned for the next chapters because i will have a lot of fun fleshing this out hehehe

first year satosugu x male reader

-> prev

( if u squint )

“since shoko is a very valuable sorcerer, she must refrain from participating in highly dangerous missions,” the only girl in the room smiled at the information, sneakily flipping off her male classmates. satoru was annoyed, suguru was indifferent, and [name] seemed to be the only one with half a mind to care for the woman’s safety.

“her abilities are quite special,” he compliments, making yaga hum in agreement and shoko wink at him in appreciation.

satoru pretends to barf in his mouth.

“that leaves the three of you, [last name], gojo, and geto — this mission is going to be your first one without supervision. it should show to be easy enough. you are to simply monitor and oversea a specific section of the closed down mall and exorcise any curses that are roaming. it has been closed down far too long and kids are starting to wander in there without any idea of what they’re walking into. for the safety of the people and the community, you must exterminate every curse that dwells there. you are all permitted in using any cursed tool, if you wish, but we highly encourage you learn to harness your abilities as soon as possible.”

satoru pretended to barf in his mouth again. doing things for “normal” civilians was never his most ideal way of spending his time. but unless he wanted to hear a nagging from yaga, he had to suck it up. formal missions were hard to dodge, anyway. meanwhile, suguru hummed in understanding, seeing why this would need an urgent team.

and [name] was just excited to finally get his hands on his cursed tool again.

the three were escorted to the abandoned mall via their driver, who told them to call him if anything were to happen and they needed immediate assistance.

“i don’t get why crybaby over here had to come,” satoru huffs, looking at the mall with disinterest. it’s unclear whether or not he’s talking to himself or his other classmate. either way, it got a reaction from [name] who was within earshot.

“why don’t you just go fuck off gojo,” [name] snarled, holding onto the scythe in his hands with a tight grip. he expertly twirled it around, using the weight of it and basic understanding of gravity, to make it so that the sharp blade was pointed right at gojo’s neck.

hiding his surprise at the sudden action, gojo just smirked and glared at [name].

“you’re just scared because you know i’m right. the moment things go to shit, you’re gonna go running with your tail in between your legs like a poor puppy. and i’ll be there to laugh,” gojo said with a taunting cackle, the ugly sound rising from his throat making both suguru and [name] cringe.

“i’ll slice your throat open, i mean it.”

“love to see you try, piece of shit!”

“alright! enough fighting, the both of you! seriously? are we on a mission to exorcise some curses or is it my personal responsibility to babysit the two of you?” suguru sighed, rubbing his forehead in stress, “can we all just do this and go home? i think it’s obvious neither of you want to be here any longer,”

satoru rolled his eyes at suguru’s “nice guy” perona, internally calling bullshit on his entire personality. god, satoru hated those type of guys the most. the ones who think they’re superior just because they’re more mature. it pissed him off that suguru had an ability so strong too...talk about waste of potential!

well, too bad for both [name] and suguru because the one who was most superior was obviously him! he was gojo satoru, after all.

“whatever, weaklings. why don’t you sit back and just let me take care of this? there’s no need for your abilities when i could exterminate every curse in the vacinity,” satoru was confident when speaking his words, but if you were to tell him to actually do that…he might not have been able to.

hey! he was a first year and just recently allowed to go completely “ham” on using his powerful abilities. he didn’t have the bestest grasp on control or output, but he did know that his technique easily overpowered the other twos’.

“hm, to make it interesting, why don’t we have a competition?”

the competitive side of [name] and satoru shone bright after suguru said that. taking their perked up heads and attentive ears as a sign to continue on, he proposed, “whoever exorcises the most curses won’t have to do chores around the dorm for a whole week and all that responsibility will fall onto the losers.”

“a whole month,” [name] bargained, earning a shrug of approval from suguru. and satoru laughed that obnoxious laugh of his again, shouting a “bring it on” before putting on his sunglasses.

“you two are going down!”

“what does cockiness get you besides hateful stares, gojo?”

“geto-san’s right, you gojo bitch! bite your tongue and choke on your own blood, fool!!”

on the count of 3, the three students were setting off into separate directions of the mall and finding as many curses as possible to exterminate. for how vast the entire property was, this could take as long as a couple of hours…if the three students were normal jujutsu sorcerers.

but when you put a narcissist, someone with a superiority complex, and a hot-headed individual in a high stakes competition, you get the mall that was full of curses being free of said curses in under two hours (an hour and ten minutes, to be exact. to cover a 800,000 square feet land full of extremely lower grade curses).

at the beginning of the competition, [name] would lure out the curses by simply baiting them with his “naivety” of them being there. they’d pounce to attack, happy to find an unsuspecting prey, before [name] would slash them across their forms and kill them with his cursed tool. he imagines by the end of the hour, he had already taken care of over a couple dozen very low grade curses.

just as he was about to maneuver around and slice another one up, something had already took care of the problem.

“gonna need to try harder than that, crybaby,” satoru taunts, smirking from a floor above as he easily blew up the curse that was about to attack [name]. the man grits his teeth in annoyance while the white haired individual just shrugs in pride, “you can’t even look out for yourself, need me to save you, huh?”

“fuck off!” [name] sent a strong gust of wind satoru’s way via swinging his scythe towards satoru, creating almost a slash of air. his tormentor only laughed at the attempt in attacking him, flipping out of the way and then walking past [name] with a smug grin.

as he disappeared from [name]’s sight, he felt himself get more and more annoyed and angry at his predicament. of course, he had to be stuck in an abandoned place with his bully and not be able to leave until the ending of their mission. [name] huffed, feeling an unfair amount of tears reach his eyes.

at least satoru wouldn’t be around to see him cry like a pathetic loser, he thought to himself. he shook his head a couple of times, forcing the tears down with a clearing of his throat and rough wipe of his face. it was a pain to live such an emotionally unstable life — as if he had any control over things like that.

“so you really are a crybaby?” suguru’s voice broke his silent sobs, making him whip his head up and glare at the man approaching him. seeing his obvious apprehension to him being there, suguru put his hands up in surrender to show he meant no harm, “there’s no reason for you to be crying, why are you crying?”

“obviously i know i have no reason to cry, idiot, how annoying do you think it is for me to have to do it when i have no reason to?!”

suguru blinked, confusion panted on his face, “you have to cry?” putting emphasis on ‘have’ it was obvious suguru didn’t see a point in such a thing, especially right now.

“you wouldn’t get it, so just leave me alone,” [name] said, waving his hand and turning around to look for more curses. suguru had an odd look on his face as he watched [name] walk away, an unreasonable amount of cursed energy surrounding the previously crying man.

the ravenette truly wondered what his life story was, he was just so intriguing. a sorcerer coming from one of the strongest clans in the jujutsu world was walking away from him with his head held down, shoulders shaking, and tears dripping onto the floor.

“what’s his deal,” suguru hums to himself, flicking his wrist in the direction of a miniature curse that was coming towards him and easily eliminating it from the picture.

[name] continued expertly swinging his scythe around whenever he saw a curse coming towards him, not flinching as it died in front of him each time. it was obvious he was most comfortable with such a weapon, despite it being a couple times larger than his smaller frame. with how easily he handled it, though, it was somewhat obvious that he had been training with the weapon for a long time.

“oiii!!! i finished up on my part of the mall,” satoru shouted, his whiny voice echoing in the empty walls.

“same here!!”

[name] looked down at the pathetic curse that was shyly standing far away from him. it had an odd figure, a spherical body that was being held up by skinny blue legs that were wobbling from the abnormal amount of weight that they had to hold up. it was muttering some stuff about the fitting room and how the clothes weren’t fitting, making [name] believe it probably formed from the stuff people would feel about themselves in the fitting rooms.

he sighed, walking ahead and crouching in front of the curse. the scythe remained unmoving as it was leaning against his shoulder, weakly swinging in the air at the heavy weight of the blade hanging behind his head. he kept it secure with his arm over the handle portion, making sure that it didn’t fall over.

the curse reached its arm out to touch him, but with a simple shifting of his head into the opposite direction, [name] stopped the possible contact. instead, he just put his finger to the pudgy flesh of the curse’s body, grimacing at the feeling. and with a simple “shot” coming from his fingers, the curse began to flail in pain and agony. until it turned into nothing but ash and dust, being blown away by a passing breeze.

“hey, what was your total count?” satoru’s voice taunted from behind him, not really reading the energy in the room. [name] stood up, a completely dead look in his eyes. it almost shocked satoru enough to shut him up, but it would take more than a miserable face to ever make him close his loud mouth.

“i came up to about 60,” suguru said, “a bunch of small insignificant ones, really,”

“and i got to the eighties,” satoru grinned, roughly shoving his shoulder into suguru’s. the black haired man only rolled his eyes, “what about you? i doubt above thirty, am i right?”

in reality, [name] had killed more curses than the two combined. but he susposes that he had an advantage, wielding a cursed tool rather than using his actual technique. well, except to kill that last one. plus his high sensitivity in reading where the curses were gave him an advantage in finding the prey faster than the other two.

but instead of telling the truth and gloating, like he should have done, he just shrugged, “i didn’t keep track — i guess you win, gojo,”

that made the strong sorcerer pump his fist into the air, chanting about how [name] and suguru were going to be stuck doing his laundry for a month. he was too caught up in his celebration to notice how sunken in [name]’s face really looked.

it wasn’t just his eyes that appeared dead, but it was as if the color drained from his face, his eyes turned bloodshot, and he was weakly walking towards them.

suguru noticed, though. and it intrigued him as he peered behind [name]’s subtly limping figure, catching a pile of ashes that was blowing in the wind. he couldn’t connect the dots completely, but he did know that the two things he noticed were connected in some way.

“feeling alright? losing sucks,” suguru asked, trying to talk about more light hearted things in the face of his incredibly sullen classmate.

“yeah, it’s whatever, i guess,”

there was definitely a difference. less colorful choices of vocabulary were being used and suguru thought that was the most noticeable change in [name]’s demeanor. he wasn’t cursing satoru out for being an egotistical piece of shit with the biggest ego in the world. he was just blankly walking past the bragging man with not a care in the world.

suguru bit his lip, stopping himself from asking more questions and instead reaching into his pocket to contact their original driver to tell them that the job was done. and while suguru was theorizing all of these things to himself, it was obvious satoru didn’t even spend a second thinking about it. if anything he welcomed the new, depressed [name]. it made for perfect bullying material for him!

that sadist, suguru grimly thought in his mind as he listened to the phone ring. he informed the driver to come pick them up before turning back around to watch satoru and [name] interact with one another. with how off he was acting, it was a surprise to see satoru still adamant on tormenting [name]. wasn’t it obvious already he was not himself? couldn’t gojo just give him a break? but then again, why wasn’t [name] sticking up for himself? he wasn’t a little kid that needed suguru’s saving, but at this point, he might as well.

“c’mon, gojo, quit it already,” suguru spoke up, lightly slapping the man’s shoulder. satoru didn’t like that, though, obnoxiously stomping over to stand toe-to-toe with suguru.

“hah? c’mon, geto, you’ve got to see that this is a real pathetic scene, isn’t it? he can’t do anything in his life but constantly lose. it makes you wonder how it’s even possible for us to exist in the same world as him; the strongests and the weakest standing to be in the same jujutsu class? what a joke,”

suguru grimaced, pushing satoru backwards to create some space in between them, “that’s not even funny, what’s your issue, gojo? can’t you just shut up for a couple of seconds? would it really kill you?”

satoru pretended to barf, glaring at suguru, “oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re one of those righteous folks that sticks up for the weaker people?”

“i don’t have to explain shit to you — i don’t even know you,” suguru mumbles, not wanting to entertain him further. creating an argument would only make their moods worsen and become more bitter towards each other. in the midst of his annoyance, suguru glances towards [name] and scoffed to himself.

it was a bit pathetic of [name] to not even speak up for himself, he’ll admit that. but he wasn’t going to bully him just for that. he just wished that he had spoken up for himself in this moment, it would’ve at least been a sign to satoru that he wasn’t to be messed with. that he was strong, to some extent. but instead the man just stood there and took all the insults.

it made suguru both annoyed and angered.

why couldn’t [name] stand up for himself now? he was doing so before so easily and naturally. but now, it was as if all the energy was sucked out of him…

the ride to the jujutsu high was silent. and [name] seperated from the two the moment they stepped foot onto the school grounds. suguru remained stoic as he watched [name] walk away while satoru next to him only hummed in disinterest.

”i’m telling you, suguru, to not waste your time defending him. he’s got no place in the jujutsu world, weak sorceres like him that prove to be useless have no place standing next to us — or even shoko for that matter. she may not have fighting prowess, but her natural ability is remarkable. with [name]…there’s nothing remarkable about him. it’s as if he’s a normal human, he’s ordinary and dull. don’t waste your breath with him.”

that was all satoru said to suguru before walking off, his hands behind his head as he walked in such a lax position. suguru stood silent for a couple of moments before snapping himself out of his stupor and going to his room.

he looked at the room a couple of doors down from him, [name]’s room, and his lips were drawn into a thin, straight line. he entered his comfortable room without wasting another second.

he didn’t know that behind [name]’s door, the man had his knees brought up to his chest as he sobbed his heart out on the floor. the screen of his small tv was blaring back at him in the dark room, the screen being the only source of light. he was watching his favorite show, one that made him laugh and happy. but tears streamed down his face as he had to choke back on his sobs.

he tried forcing a smile on his face, making an unsettling expression a couple of times before he gave up.

he always hated this part.

but he had to persevere. he moved to his small music player at his bedside, grabbing the headphones that worked alongside them and falling onto his bed. he put the flimsy over-ear devices on, sighing as he looked up at the blank ceiling. soon, a compilation of his favorites songs filled his ears and he tried to be content with the feeling.

‘immerse yourself. and you’ll be okay in the morning.’

it was a mantra he repeated to himself until he felt himself fall into sleep.

he really hated his innate cursed technique.

-

sorry if u hate emotional mcs...this guy is gonna be one. but for explainable reason, trust! he's still going to be strong, too, though, so look forward to that! i can't wait to make him go #insane <3 but other than that, really fun to write since it shows the dynamic i imagined satosugu to have in their first years of jujutsu high !!! since the whole incident happens in their second year i rlly wanna focus on building the relationships in the first year and stuff, so things might be a lil slow to start, but when it starts ... it'll start, trust. tysm for being os patient w this even if it is short affa. i look forward to writing longer, more deeeeeep chapters in the future. much love <3

[pinksturniolo]

Biggest Fan: Part Three

Chris Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Summary: The one in which a fan gets rear ended in a car accident by none other than Christopher Sturniolo during her stay in Los Angeles.

A/N: This is my first series I will be publishing on here! There will most likely be 3 or 4 parts. I hope you like it and I’m really excited to share with you all. :)

Content Warnings: smut, oral receiving/giving, fingering, raw penetration, swearing, throat fucking, bondage (if you are not comfortable with that please don’t read), mentions of a head injuries, mentions of a car accident

word count: 4,423

side note: sorry for the long wait!! it was a crazy day lol but here it is <3

inspired by this song:

You ended up needing three stitches.

Apparently, you had underestimated the cut on your forehead and if it wasn’t for Isabel, you would’ve just left it with the bandage Chris had put on for you. After you left the triplets house, she insisted that you go to an urgent care and get it checked out. You explained the details of the whole night to her, starting from when you left your hotel room to get Wendy’s up until the moment Matt knocked on Chris’ door.

“Holy shit. Our first night in L.A. and you manage to get in a car accident with Chris Sturniolo which ends up in him eating you out? What kind of black magic have you been doing?” Isabel jokes as you look out the car window, avoiding eye contact with her. You were on the way back to your hotel after leaving the urgent care. You groan, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.  “Let’s never talk about this again, please.” You reply.

At the same time, your phone rings, Chris’ name flashing across the screen. Your heart immediately jumps, and you look at Isabel in fear, showing her the name.

“Oh my god. Answer it!” She says, her eyes wide, glancing at you and to the road, trying to focus on driving.

“Fuck no! I cannot talk to him right now… How did he even get my number?” You wonder aloud. The call goes to voicemail and almost immediately after, you receive 2 text messages from him.

Hey. I got your number from Matt. Just wanted to make sure you’re good.

He called the tow place so they could get your tire fixed and take it to your hotel. Lmk when they drop it off.

You read the messages but don’t reply, putting your phone back down and leaning back in your seat. Exhaustion was beginning to set in. You hadn’t slept in almost 24 hours. “Why didn’t you answer?” Isabel asks.

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to him… I just feel utterly mortified from what happened. It was an amazing night, don’t get me wrong. He’s cool as fuck. I guess I’m just being insecure, but I feel embarrassed about it. It’s not like me to do one-night stands. What if he just regrets it?” You tell her, really starting to question everything that happened last night.

 “Y/N. Stop. You seriously need to get out of your head and give yourself some credit. He’s obviously interested in you if he’s calling and texting you. You’re hot okay. Any guy would want you.” She says, making you smile.

“Besides, we came to L.A. for a reason, right? To let loose and have fun. This is best case scenario Y/N, might as well make the most of it.” She adds, turning into the hotel parking lot.

Isabel was one your best friends, one of the reasons being she always gave the best advice and knew what you needed to hear while not sugar coating anything. You had always appreciated her for that. She parks and you both unbuckle your seatbelts, grabbing your things and getting out of the car. “You know what, you’re right. I need to stop overthinking things so much.” You say as you walk into the hotel lobby, getting into the elevator. She smiles at you and gives you a hug. “Exactly.” She replies. You both head to your rooms and once you hit the bed, you knock out, unable to keep your eyes open for one more second.

When you finally wake up, it’s 6 p.m., the sun starting to set outside. You had slept the whole day. You yawn and stretch, getting out of your bed and heading to the shower so you could wake up.

You still have Chris’ clothes on and can smell the scent of his cologne lingering as you take them off. You remember that your wet clothes are still in a pile on his bathroom floor, silently cursing to yourself for forgetting them there. Now you had a reason to see him again.

You decide to go wash his clothes at the hotel laundry mat once you finish in the shower. You still haven’t called or texted him back, a feeling of guilt washing over you. You know that you should, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it yet. What were you so afraid of?

You were afraid of how good it felt being with him. The connection you felt scared you and you hadn’t even gone all the way with him. But you couldn’t get him out of your head. Last night played over and over in your head like a broken record.

The way he made you laugh. The lustful look in his eyes. The feeling of his hands gripping your waist. The way his lips felt on your neck. The feeling of his hair tickling the insides of your thighs as he licked and sucked and fingered you until you were whimpering his name. The way his voice sounded…

“Anything to get you in bed next to me, princess.”

“You look so pretty like this.”

“Cum for me sweetheart.”

His words played repeatedly in your head as you lay in your bed, a movie playing on the tv, but you couldn’t pay attention. All you could think about was him. You burned a hole into your phone as you stared at it.

Stop being a pussy. Just call him. You think, picking up your phone and dialing his number.

Your heart races as it rings, and you almost change your mind and hang up at the last minute when he finally picks up. “Y/N?” He says. “Hey.” You respond, the cheesiest grin appearing on your face the minute you hear him say your name.

“I was starting to think you ghosted me.”

“Well, I actually was until I remembered you still have my clothes and I have yours.”

“Funny joke. I washed your clothes earlier, you can come get them anytime. Unless you want me to bring them to you?”

“Uh… I’ll let you know. Me and my friends planned a hiking trip for tomorrow.”

“…. Okay. No worries. Hey, did you get your car back?”

“Yes, I did. Thank you so much for that, and please tell Nick and Matt thank you for me as well.”

“Of course. How’s the cut?”

“I actually ended up going to urgent care and getting three stitches. But they were pretty small, it was no big deal.”

“Damn. I’m sorry, Y/N. I knew we should’ve called the ambulance.”

“Chris, it’s okay, I promise. How’s the Kia? I was too in shock to even ask last night.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. The bumper is a little messed up and one of the lights broke but I think your car ended up taking most of the damage… Sorry again.”

“Well at least it’s not worse. You do owe me a frosty though.”

“Hm, I would argue a McFlurry makes up for it way better.”

You and Chris end up talking and laughing almost the whole night about anything and everything. Everything except the things that occurred in his bed. You’re too hesitant to bring it up and he seems to take the hint, not mentioning it either.

The next day, you and your friends take a trip up to Big Bear, hiking for most of the day. You enjoy the views and spending time with them. You still can’t help but realize that you’re not a hundred percent in the moment, counting the minutes until you could get back to the city and talk to Chris again.

Chris’ mind hadn’t stopped racing since the morning you left his house. His heart ached as he watched your friend drive off with you in the passenger seat, feeling like a love drunk fool.

He immediately asked Matt for your number from when you had exchanged information after the accident, a knowing look in his eye when he gave it to him. “Gonna ask her on a date or what?” Matt teased him, which he ignored completely.

“Don’t pretend like I didn’t hear some interesting noises coming from your room last night!” He shouts as Chris runs downstairs to be alone in his room.

His heart sank when you didn’t answer his call and he chalked it up to the fact that you were probably just tired and needed sleep. Which he desperately needed as well but he couldn’t help and wait for you to text or call him back as he made himself busy, cleaning up his room and washing your clothes when he found them still lying on his bathroom floor.

After a couple hours passed though, he lost hope of getting your phone call and finally laid down, deciding he should get some rest. He tossed and turned for a while though, unable to get the memory of last night out of his head.

The look in your eyes when you told him to touch you. The way your lips felt on his, your hands in his hair. The sweet sounds you made as he tasted you. The way you clenched around his fingers as he made you orgasm, the way his name sounded as you screamed it.

Fuck. He was down bad and he knew it.

There was an infectious energy between you two and he craved more of it. He finally fell asleep thinking of you and when he woke up, the sun was setting.

Matt and Nick forced him to come out of his room and eat something. He talked with them for a while, avoiding mentioning you. He took a shower and was about to turn on a TV show to try and get his mind off you when you called. He couldn’t help the goofy smile that plastered his face as he answered, grateful to hear your voice again.

Hours later that night, when you and him had finally hung up, he already knew. It had only been a day, but he just knew he wanted more time with you, to take care of you in all the ways you deserved. When you told him you would be on a hiking trip the next day and wouldn’t have service to text him, he couldn’t ignore the way it made his heart sink.

He was falling for you, head over heels.

As soon as you got back to your hotel, you were exhausted and your feet ached. You took a shower and lay down, sending Chris a quick text message.

Hey :) Just got home, I think my feet might fall off lol. It was great though, I’ll send you pictures in the morning. Sorry I can’t talk tonight but call me when you wake up!

The next few days passed incredibly fast. Chris had to go to Boston unfortunately, but he told you he would be back the day before you left to go back home.

You and your friends spent time at the beach, walked the Hollywood Walk of Fame, danced at the club, and did all the things you had came to do. It truly was the best vacation you had been on.

You and Chris texted nonstop and stayed up talking on the phone when you could. He was one of the sweetest people you had met, and the more you got to know him, the more you wanted nothing but to spend every second with him. How could your feelings grow so strong in such a short time?

The night Chris came back home, you were in your hotel room, most of your belongings packed and ready to go. You were in your nicest set of silk pajamas, brushing your hair for the hundredth time as you waited for him to arrive.

You both agreed that he would come over with the clothes you left at his house, and you could give him his. But you both knew it was more than that. There was unfinished business, and as eager as you were to finish it, you were still a bit nervous.

Chris arrived a few minutes earlier then he said he would, a soft knock sounding at your door that summoned those damn butterflies again.

You took a deep breath, opening the door to reveal him there, cheeky smile as always, both of his arms resting on the door frame above him. He was wearing jeans and one of his fresh love t-shirts. Does this man ever not look good?

“Fancy seeing you here.” He says as you step aside, allowing him to walk in. You laugh, going over to grab his clothes for him.

He sets a bag with yours in it on the table in your room. As you go to hand the clothes to him, he doesn’t take them right away.

You hold it out awkwardly, an expectant look on your face as he raises his eyebrows at you. “Are you not gonna take them?” You ask, lowering your arms down.

“Is that it then?” He responds, giving you a look that has your heart starting to beat faster. “What do you mean?” You say, dragging it out longer. You couldn’t just jump his bones the minute he walked in, could you?

“Don’t play stupid with me, Y/N.” He speaks lowly, making your heart feel like it’s doing flips inside your chest. He pushes the clothes in your arms down to the floor and moves closer to you, now inches from your face.

“Do you know how crazy you drive me? I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left.” He says quietly. You feel his breath across your lips as he moves even closer, smirking at the obvious effect he has on you, as a deep blush fans across your face. He places his hands on either side of your face, his thumbs stroking softly. “You have no idea of all the things I wanna do to you…” he breaths, his lips brushing yours. “Then show me.” You whisper.

He wastes no time placing his lips on yours as you kiss him back, your mouth opening to allow his tongue to tangle with yours as your arms go up to wrap around his neck. He moves his hands down to your hips as they slip under your thin shirt, the feeling of his hands on your bare skin giving you tingles down your spine. He slips his hands to your ass, squeezing tightly, making you moan in his mouth. “Jump.” He instructs and as you do, he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

He walks towards your bed, your lips still joined in a sloppy kiss, setting you down on it and hovering on top of you.  You can’t control the moans that slip from your mouth as he leaves spongy, wet kisses down your neck and chest, removing your shirt and his in the process, and you allow your body to respond to his commands, and to his satisfaction he discovers you don’t have a bra on so he can leave more love bites on your breasts.

He takes his time sucking on them and rolling his tongue slowly over each of your nipples. You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling how hard he is, and you can’t help but buck your hips up into his, causing him to moan out, his mouth travelling back up to your neck which seems to be his favorite spot to kiss you.

He notices the hickeys he left on you the first night you spent together and smirks at you as he pulls his head up, whispering in your ear. “Do you like seeing my marks on you? Does it make you wet knowing that you’re all mine baby?” Fuck. This man will be the death of you.

“Yes, Chris.” You breath out, again bucking your hips up onto his rock hard dick currently straining through his jeans. He hums in satisfaction, grabbing your wrists in one hand and holding them above your head. “If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last.” He warns, his fucked-out expression as he looks at you, making your already wet center soaking.

Of course, this makes you grind on him again, the feeling of it too good to stop. He grips your wrists tighter in his hand, undoing his belt and taking it off his jeans. He then wraps it around your wrists, belting them together tight enough to where you can’t move them but not too tight to where it’s uncomfortable for you.

“Is this okay?” he asks, pausing to look into your eyes, searching for any hesitation. “Yes.” You respond, your heart racing and pussy throbbing so much it almost hurts. “Promise? Just tell me to stop if you need me to.” He says, sliding your silk shorts down your legs, discarding them on the floor.

“Yes, I promise.” You say back, anticipating his next move. He bites his lips, his eyes taking in your naked body, your lace panties the only thing left. “So beautiful, princess. Just for me.” he whispers as if he’s saying it to himself, but you hear him and you think you just might pass out from how sweet it sounds.

He pulls you slightly down the bed, your hips on the edge as he leans down, knees hitting the floor, his head now level between your legs.

His blue eyes burn into yours as he wraps your thighs around his face and wastes no time pulling your panties aside to let his tongue slick through your wet folds, up and down, side to side on your clit and then back down to tease your entrance. You cry out loudly, throwing your head back and squeeze your thighs around his head relentlessly which only makes him hold you in place even tighter, ensuring you’ll have more bruises in the morning.

The position he has you in and the constriction of his belt around your wrists is enough to send you over the edge. The feeling is indescribable, and your whole body is ablaze with euphoria.

It doesn’t take long until you feel yourself close to an orgasm as he moans dirty words against you. “Fuck baby, I missed you. I touched myself so many times remembering how good you taste.” His voice sends deep vibrations through you. “Are you gonna cum for me princess? I want you to cum all over my tongue.”

He then grabs your hips, guiding them to thrust against his face as you ride his tongue. “Oh my God, yes Chris!” You scream, letting him use your body to get off on him.  You cum hard, your body shaking as you continue to moan his name. He helps you ride it out, his hands gently rubbing your legs and thighs and he gets up to take the belt off, rubbing your wrists as well.

He kisses you softly as you catch your breath. You feel fueled by lust, the need to make him moan your name strong when you look him in the eyes, an idea popping into your head. “I want you fuck my throat.” You say, the surprise in his face makes you laugh but you’re serious as you sit up to unbutton his jeans and pull them down his legs.

“Yeah?” He responds, a playful fire in his eyes. “Mhm.” You hum, biting your lip and the innocent look in your eyes almost makes him lose it then and there. He stands up at the edge of the bed and you turn your body the opposite way, laying down flat so now your head hangs off the edge.  

“Tap my thigh if you need me to stop, okay?” He says, his breathing heavy as he pulls his dick out of his boxers and from the view you currently have, it looks huge, veins running along his shaft and precum oozing out of the tip. He brings it to your mouth, and you open to wrap your lips around it, your tongue swirling around him teasingly. “Fuck…” He whimpers lowly, trying to contain himself as he slides it further slowly, your saliva coating him.

 Your cheeks hollow around him and he pauses halfway, letting you adjust to him. He waits a few seconds before going deeper, brushing the back of your throat, making you slightly gag. He moans loudly at the feeling, which makes you hum around him. You are enjoying every minute of this.

He starts to slowly thrust himself down your throat, careful to pause every now and then when he feels you gag. But you quickly get used to it and reach up to grab his hand, motioning for him to continue. He picks up the pace, loud moans now leaving his mouth which only makes you wetter. “Fuuuuckk… Y/N. Feels so good.” He breathes out. He wants to cum down your throat so badly but at this point he needs to feel himself inside you more than he’s ever needed anything.

He pulls out and helps you back into an upright position on the bed, laying you down against the pillows. “Please tell me you’re on the pill.” He says, pulling your panties off and discarding them somewhere along with the pile of clothes forming on the floor. “Yes.” You respond, grateful you were because you wanted nothing more than to feel his bare skin against yours.

He takes your legs, spreading you open for him again and rubs his cock against your entrance teasingly. “Please, Chris. I need you.” You whimper, gripping his arms and wrapping your legs around his lower back. “No need to beg, sweetheart. You got me.” He responds as he pushes himself inside you.

You both moan in ecstasy at the feeling, your eyes rolling back as he continues to sink himself all the way into you. “God, Chris…” You say, a slight burning as you adjust to his size.

He groans loudy, thrusting into you slowly, the sight of your blissful expression and the way your tits bounce with each movement almost sending him over the edge. You meet his hips with yours each time, uncontrollable moans pouring out of you. “I love making you sound like this baby. Tell me only I can make you feel this good, Y/N.” He says, his breath shaky but his grip on your legs strong.

“Yes, Chris. Only you can do this to me. Feels so- ah- so gooood.” You respond, at this point ready to do anything he says. The feeling of him inside you is like no other. He moves harder and faster, hitting your g spot with each thrust.

You clench around him and he feels your wetness drip down his cock. The pleasure you give him is unmatched but the way he feels being close to you like this, your bodies becoming one has him in a state of bliss. He knows you’re close and wraps you tighter around him, his face falling to yours, one hand pressing into the mattress, the other hand pressing down slightly on your abdomen.

You cry out at the sensation, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging his hair.

“Can you cum again for me baby? Please… I wanna fill you up while you scream my name.” He says, his hips slamming into you, pounding you over and over again. “Please baby. Please cum for me.” The needy sound in his voice and the pace of his thrusting brings you to your second orgasm, clenching around his cock and releasing all over him.

Your whimpers are swallowed by him as he kisses you, his orgasm shortly coming after yours, spilling himself inside you. You both gasp for air, completely spent, and he stays there for a few minutes, holding you as you both catch your breath.

Once you both have settled down, he grabs a damp towel and cleans you up. You lay together, Chris rubbing circles on your back as you hold him. “Goodnight, princess.” He whispers and you both drift off to a peaceful sleep.

The next morning you and Chris spend exploring each other’s bodies in every possible way in the time you have left before you have to check out of the hotel.

Under the sheets, he covers every inch of your body in kisses. In the shower, he fucks you up against the glass, pulling your wet hair from behind you. On the couch, you ride him until your legs shake, while he whimpers in your ear.

When it came time for you to leave, you tried not to cry but it was bittersweet. You and Chris had shared something special, and you both agreed there was more between you two then just amazing sex.

He made you promise to call and text him anytime you could, and the good thing was, your hometown was on the East Coast which would make it easier for you guys to meet up when he visited Boston.

And you kept your promises while he kept his, each time you got to see each other was better than the last. You couldn’t get enough of each other, and he made you feel so comfortable in your own skin. You silently thanked the universe for putting the events of that night of the accident into motion because if you hadn’t met Chris, life wouldn’t be the same.

chris & y/n:

a/n: and there it is!!! my first series completed :) pleaseeee let me know what yall thought! matt series next???

[rocketrhap3000]

just a tickle

summary: while bucky is away with sam, you come down with a nasty cold, worrying him to no end

a/n: old fic rewritten for bucky :)

warnings: reader is sick with a cold, other than that this is all just comfort/fluff 🤍

my main masterlist

“Miss you more,” Bucky’s voice crackles through the speaker of your phone.

“And Alpine misses you, too, of course,” you giggle, reaching over to scratch the white cat snuggled up on the bed beside you, taking up the space where Bucky normally would be. For being just a little thing, Alpine sure knows how to sprawl out and take up space.

“She’s taking up the bed, isn’t she?” Bucky knowingly chuckles, settling back into the bed of the motel he’s staying in with Sam.

“Not anymore than you do,” you tease, making Bucky roll his eyes and laugh. You join him, but your laughter soon turns into a small fit of coughing.

“Y’okay, Sweetheart?” he asks, and once you catch your breath, your throat feels dry and scratchy.

“Yeah,” you breathe, clearing your throat one last time. “Just a tickle or something.”

“You sure?”

“I’m fine, Bucky, seriously,” you chuckle. “Just choked on my own air.”

“Alright. But you know I worry about you when I’m away,” he reasons.

“I do know that. But you don’t need to worry. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself,” you feign annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh yeah? ‘Cause last time I checked, you still need me to rub your back to fall asleep,” he taunts right back.

“Alright…” you give up your tough act and giggle like a little girl. “You do give the best back rubs.”

“Wish I could be there to give you one now,” he frowns.

“Only a few more days, Buck,” you remind him and yourself, trying not to get too sad before you have to fall asleep.

Bucky had told Sam a while ago that he wanted to step away from missions for a least a little bit. But this one was urgent, so Bucky agreed to break out of his mini retirement and assist Sam and Torres. It was supposed to be a short mission; in the States, quick, in and out, no complications. But the issue was bigger than expected, pushing out Bucky’s arrival back home an additional second week instead of just one.

“Feels like forever, though,” he sighs. “Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself, Sweets. Stay hydrated, get enough to eat, make sure you get enough sleep, all that good stuff. And I know it's late there, so I’m gonna let you go so that you can rest up.”

“Okay” you nod, knowing that although he can be overprotective of you, he only has your health and wellbeing as his priority, making it hard for him to be away. “I love you,” you hum timidly, sinking down below the covers to hide your mouth as you clear your throat again: the scratch in your throat seeming to stick around a little bit.

“I love you, too. Get some rest. And let me know if that tickle turns into something more, alright? I can come home early if you need me to,” he tells you.

“James, I’m fine,” you remind him. “Please don’t lose sleep worrying about me. I promise I will be fine, and then you can baby me all you want when you get back,” you wink.

“I certainly will, Sweets,” he laughs. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you echo, then turn the screen so that he can see Alpine. “Say goodnight to Dad, Girly.”

Bucky coos his goodnight to the kitten before telling you he loves you once more, just for good measure, with his promise to call you in the morning. Then you end the call, connect your phone to its charger, and cuddle up to Alpine as you sink into a deep sleep.

~♡~

The next morning, your alarm for work blares, and you wake up feeling awful. Your nose is fully plugged, your ears are itchy, and it feels like there’s something stuck in your throat every time you swallow. You groan, weakly pushing Alpine off of you as you realize you’re drenched in your own sweat.

With an exasperated sigh, you kick the covers off of your burning body to let the ceiling fan cool you off. But almost instantly, goosebumps prickle over your skin, and you start to shiver, which seemingly triggers a nasty, sharp coughing fit.

What the hell? Did that simple tickle really turn into a full blown cold? And overnight?

And as if he’s subconsciously telling you “I told you so” your phone rings on the nightstand beside you, with none other than the caller ID of your wonderful boyfriend’s smiling face on your screen.

“Hi,” you answer, trying your best to hide the rasp in your voice.

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” Bucky’s chipper voice greets, very much a contrast to yours. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine,” you lie, thankful that he decided not to FaceTime you today because you can only imagine how awful you look if this is how you're feeling.

“You don’t sound fine,” he says in an accusatory, yet worried tone. “Sweetheart, are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, Bucky, I promise,” you lie again, yanking the blankets back over your shivering, sticky body. “Just… still waking up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he hums apologetically. He knows your schedule, so he knew you’d be awake by now. But now he hears the exhaustion in your voice and feels bad. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, no,” you assure him. “Woke up just a few minutes ago. Just a little foggy this morning.”

“You sure that’s all?” he pushes. He knows you like the back of his hand, so of course he suspects something is up. Even through the poor connection of the phone call, he can hear something off in your tone.

“I promise. Please don’t worry about me,” you coo to him, although you wish you could just have him here to make you feel better.

But you know you have to hold strong so that he doesn’t drop everything at work to come back home to you. You know how important these missions are to him, but even though he always says nothing is more important to him than you, you’d never forgive yourself if he cut things short just because you have a little cough.

“Always worryin’ about you, pretty girl,” he rasps. “Hey, I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree. “Have a good day, Buck.”

“You, too, Sweets. And please, do not hesitate to call me if you aren’t feeling good. I can come home to you, okay?” he reminds you.

You want to fight back. You want to insist you’re fine. But if you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t even know if you’ll be able to drag yourself out of bed to get ready for work.

“Okay,” you simply say. “Call tonight. I love you.”

“Will do. I love you, too, Sweetheart.”

You hang up, then groan, then roll over to face the furry friend in bed beside you.

“Girly, I think we’re calling in sick today.”

~♡~

Two days pass, and although your fever breaks, your cough only seems to get worse, meaning it’s getting harder to hide your state from Bucky. Every night on FaceTime, he notices your tired eyes and how you sniffle your nose every few minutes, in addition to the way you put yourself on mute to (not so) subtly cough into your arm.

You’ve only taken one actual sick day and have been working from home since, though you haven't completed much work because of how awful you feel. The best you can do is Zoom call into your meetings, which isn’t terrible since you can do them in sweatpants.

But one afternoon while you’re lounging on the couch - when you should be at work - Bucky randomly calls you.

Your heartbeat increases as you watch your phone ring.

Shoot. He doesn’t know you took off work, but if he finds out, then he’ll know something is up.

You feel bad for not picking up, but in the end, it’s for his own good. You don’t want him to put this project on hold for you. You can take care of yourself.

A text comes through next.

Hey! Just checking in. Can you call?

Before you even get the chance to try to formulate a text back, he’s requesting to FaceTime you. Instinctually, you decline the call.

Sweets pick up :(

He calls again.

And you give in.

You answer, the call connects, and within just another second, his smiling face is filling your screen.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he grins, but his smile drops and confusion fills his face instead once he sees your background. "Why aren't you at work? Are you at home?"

You decide to give up your act, not having the energy to pretend any longer. You your head slowly and shamefully, then let out a nasty cough.

“(Y/n), you’re sick,” he croons.

“No I’m not. I’m fi–” you’re cut off by another shrill coughing fit.

“Bullshit. You’re sick and you’ve been lying to me,” he lovingly scolds you. “How long have you been out of work?”

“This is my third day,” you sigh. “Technically, I’m supposed to be working from home but the best I can do is Zoom meetings. My boss is chill about it, though.”

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you just tell me you’re sick? I can come home early,” he says like he has a hundred times before.

“Bucky, I didn’t want you to drop everything just for me.”

“You’re so much more important than any of this, (Y/n),” he shakes his head. “It’s why I asked to be taken off missions in the first place. You're worth more than any of this and you deserve my time and attention."

“But this is important to you, too. I know you always follow through with your commitments. You’re just so dedicated like that. I don’t want you to just up and leave. I didn’t want to be another worry for you.”

“Sweetheart, you know I’m going to worry about you no matter what. Especially when I’m gone like this. I wish you would have told me you’ve been sick.”

“I’m sorry,” you hang your head and sniffle. “I do miss you, but I don’t want to be an interruption.”

“Stop that,” he chastises you with a smile. “You. Are. More. Important."

“I know,” you sigh.

“I feel like you don’t, though,” his adorable smile turns into a slight frown. “(Y/n), you don’t have to do everything for yourself. I am always here for you… well, not physically right now. But I love you and I want to take care of you. If you’d just let me.”

“I love you, too,” you echo bashfully. “And I'll let you take care of me.”

“Good,” he smiles again, and proudly this time. "But you have to promise to text me honest updates about how you’re feeling. Do you have a fever?”

“I only had one for the first day. It’s really just a bad cough now. And the occasional body ache.”

“Sweetheart,” he groans. “How am I supposed to stay another week when I know you’re feelin’ sick?”

“Willpower?” you suggest feebly.

“I have no willpower when it comes to you, pretty girl. I’m absolutely weak for you. You know that,” he winks.

“We’ve been apart for longer, Bucky,” you giggle. “You’ll make it, I promise. And I will, too. Stay with Sam. Finish this mission. Then come straight home to me.”

"I will," he promises.

James Barnes is many things. He’s brave, he’s strong, and he’s confident. But he’s also compassionate, loving, and absolutely head over heels for you.

And to be honest, you’re not sure how you’ll make it another week without him, either.

~♡~

Four more days pass - meaning only two more until Bucky will be home - and your cold has completely left your body. After doubling up on vitamins, staying hydrated, and resting at home, you have made a full recovery. Maybe that cold was just your body’s way of forcing you to slow down and take a break.

Last night on the phone, Bucky had been more than relieved to hear you’ve been feeling much better. However, for some reason, he hasn’t called you this morning.

You brush it off, simply assuming he’s just busy. But what makes you worry is that he hasn’t even responded to your good morning text, either. In fact, your message isn’t even marked as ‘Delivered’.

You try to think reasonably. Maybe they’re somewhere there’s no service. Maybe he has his phone on the data-saving setting. It could be plenty of things, but your mind wanders to worrying about him. After all, you worry about him just as much as he worries about you.

To redirect your thoughts, you pull up the grocery app on your phone to order some essentials before Bucky gets back, since the fridge is getting a little bare. Then, you make yourself busy with tasks around the house such as laundry, dishes, and vacuuming up so much of Alpine’s white fur off the floors and couches that you’re shocked she still has an entire coat covering her body.

A few hours later, the doorbell rings, and you know it's probably the delivery person with your groceries. You glance at your phone to check the time (and your messages) and Bucky still hasn’t texted you.

With worry heavy on your mind, you toe over to the entryway, anyways.

But when you open the door, your gaze falls upon Bucky, in the flesh, with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hi, Sweets,” he greets with a smile, dropping the bag and opening his arms.

“You’re not groceries!” you gasp, immediately jumping into his arms, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, and curling your legs around his torso.

“No, I’m not,” he laughs, squeezing you tight and holding you close to him. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

And upon hearing the call of her human father, Alpine comes prancing to the front door, mewling happily. Bucky manages to toss his bag into the house, corral Alpine back inside with him, and close the front door, all while you cling to him like a koala.

“Oh my god,” you sigh into his neck, taking in his aroma - slightly sweaty and definitely in need of a hot shower, but yet still so comforting. You lift your head to glance at him. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more,” he caresses the outsides of your face with his large hands as you uncurl your legs from him to stand on the ground. “Gonna take care of you all weekend, Sweets. You’re not gonna lift a single finger.”

“Bucky, I’m not sick anymore,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his torso. “And you promised you wouldn’t come home early!”

“Sam overheard our call and knew I missed you. He demanded I go home to you. And I’m so glad you’re better,” he coos. “But I don’t need an excuse to spoil my girl,” he smirks as he sweeps you off your feet and makes a beeline for the bedroom.

“Bucky,” you can’t contain your laughter, watching how Alpine trails behind her dad in anticipation for some attention, too.

“You’re on bed rest, Sweets,” he whispers, gently laying you down onto the bed.

“Alright. But only if you keep me company,” you pout your lips, tugging at the fabric of his shirt to get him to roll into bed with you, and he slips right beside you, coddling you to his chest and holding you tight.

A shower can wait - you need to be in his arms right now.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone,” he says with a dainty kiss to your forehead.

~~~

thank you so much for reading! reblogs and feedback are absolutely the best 🫶

[greg-montgomery]

hiya!! this is my first time doing a request or anything like that buttt i wanted to ask if you could do one where the team is put up in a hotel for the night, everyone is sent to their own separate rooms but hotch called them in to his room bc he had some last minute thoughts about the case, right before they all go to sleep and y/n shows up in a cute sleep set and everyone is like oh but don’t say anything. they talk about the case for a bit and slowly everyone heads off one by one leaving aaron and y/n but plot twist she’s been quiet bc she snoozed off in the seat in the corner. aaron wakes her up and she apologizes, they start talking a little and she realizes how tired he looks and she idk gives him a massage on the shoulders, it can have innuendos in there but i mostly want her to take care of him, maybe they fall asleep together or something fluff it up plss 🫶🏽

hii!! <333 you're so sweet for sending to me your first request!! i'm sorry it took me a thousand years lmfao i really really hope you like it!!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

With your eyes shut and both of your fists rubbing your eyelids softly as if they could take all the tiredness away, you weren’t able to see the looks your current outfit had earned you.

It wasn’t your usual attire for when discussing an unsub’s profile, but Hotch was the one to blame. You were getting ready for bed when JJ knocked on your door and announced that your boss wanted all of you urgently in his room. If he wasn’t your absolute soft spot, you’d be very pissed off about it.

Aaron seemed to have some new ideas about the case, and since the man apparently never slept, he thought all the rest of you would have the same energy as him. And maybe he wasn’t that far off for the others; but you were extremely tired, running only on three hours of sleep.  So you just chose the comfiest looking spot on the couch of Hotch’s room and snuggled with two of the pillows you found there, simply observing the conversation that was taking place and only jumping in for a comment or two. It was already an achievement for you managing to stay awake for an extra hour.

Or so you thought.

“Y/N…” a gentle voice whispered your name. “Y/N…”

The hand on your shoulder shaking you, just as gently, suggested that said voice was trying to wake you up. But you were so comfortable and so sleepy you chose to ignore it. The whispers were lulling you back to sleep anyway.

Before you managed to drift off completely again, the hand moved to cup your face. A thumb was rubbing your cheek as the voice talked to you again. “You’ll hurt your neck.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and slowly blinked, finding the figure of a man sitting next to you. “Hotch?”

“Hi,” he chuckled. “I thought you’d never wake up.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you rushed to apologize. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.”

“That’s alright.” He smiled at you.

Aaron was right about the neck thing, you could already feel the pain growing and you used your hand to massage it as you switched to a more appropriate sitting position on your boss’ couch.

“I tried to warn you,” he said, lifting his brows. “I wake up sore from every single jet nap.”

“Yeah, I noticed you couldn’t even turn your head when talking to us the other day,” you giggled.

“Don’t make fun of the elderly,” he scolded you. “I’m actually suffering from the pain."

“I’m sorry.”

You were still laughing so Hotch didn’t look entirely convinced by your apology. “Yeah, I can see how much.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you repeated more seriously this time. There was a short pause before you spoke again. “You know…I have a friend that’s a physiotherapist and she’s taught me how to relieve neck pain. I could give you a massage. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

He looked surprised by your offer and you worried you overstepped.

“It’ll be my official apology,” you added.

You saw him letting out a heavy sigh and got yourself prepared for rejection, but instead Aaron nodded, “Sure, why not?”

“Nice!” you clapped twice, hoping you didn’t seem overly excited at the thought of touching him that intimately.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t fixated on his large body and broad shoulders. So placing your palms on his toned muscles had your heart racing to the point you were scared he could hear your heartbeat.

Aaron’s heavy breaths when you started massaging his neck sent sparks all over your body. You wondered if he sounded like that during other moments in his life and you had to shake your head to send all the inappropriate thoughts away. Still it was next to impossible not to drool over him; touching him and watching him so up-close.

“Is that nice?” you asked.

“Mhm…”

“You have to be careful of how your posture is when you’re sleeping though. You warned me about it, but won’t do the same for yourself.”

“Maybe we can remind each other,” he suggested.

“Well that sounds like a good idea, but sadly we’re not always together when we’re sleeping.”

“Sadly, huh?”

Your hands froze on his shoulders and you could feel them shaking as Hotch started laughing.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you said, covering your face embarrassed.

“I know,” he reassured you with a small laugh. He reached out behind him for your hands as his head fell slightly back to make eye contact with you. You were still covering your face, so he grabbed your wrists gently and moved them down. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, I’m embarrassed.”

He used his grip on your hands to drag you next to him so he could look at you properly. It didn’t need much effort on his side to make you take a seat by his side. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“Because you’re Hotch.”

“And?”

“And it’s self-explanatory. You either get it or you don’t.”

“I see.”

You sat next to each other in silence for a bit. Embarrassed or not, you didn’t want to go. This side of Hotch was very rare to be seen, and you felt grateful you got to witness him like this for once. You weren’t ready for it to end.

“Should I go?” you asked hesitantly.

“Do you wanna go?”

It took you a few seconds to reply, trying to make up your answer. You chose to be honest. “Not really.”

“Then stay.”

“I might fall asleep on your couch again,” you warned him.

“Hmm…there are worse things that could happen to me I think,” he said holding back a grin, and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you against his chest.

You couldn’t agree more.

[klausinamarink]

I Reach For You On Faith Alone

rating: G | cw: none | wc: 1.6k | tags: post S4, getting together, fireflies | prompt: Love is having hope for the future together

written for @steddielovemonth

-

“Mind if I join you?”

Steve’s voice broke Eddie out of his wandering thoughts. He lifted his head up to see Steve was already on the roof, dangerously crouching by the edge. Steve was still in his work uniform so either he had just left the video store or was too tired to change. Eddie betted it was the latter if the deep bags under his eyes indicated anything.

Eddie hummed and patted the empty space on his right.

“Sweet.” Steve said, scooting over until he was next to Eddie. Then he suddenly sat up, “Shit, sorry, I didn’t bring anything with me. You want anything? Food? Drinks? Your cigarettes? It’s cold as hell too, do you need a blanket?”

His concern was adorable but understandable. Eddie just shook his head and returned his gaze back to the sky.

Night had fallen moments ago but Eddie was too content to get back inside yet. The stars were bright, a galaxy belt spanning from one corner to somewhere that it hurt to crane his neck back. It was also quiet, save for the crickets. Benefits of a new government-says-sorry house being located on the country roadside forty minutes from Hawkins.

“It’s really nice.” Steve said quietly.

Eddie grinned, “You haven’t seen the best part yet.”

He could feel Steve staring at him with a raised eyebrow. If they were standing, Steve would definitely have his hands on his hips.

“You have a galaxy beaming down at you and this isn’t the best part?” Steve made a tsk-tsk noise. “And yet you defile me as the one with shit taste.”

Eddie chuckled and propped himself up by an arm. He looked to his left where the grassy fields were at. Almost on cue, a small green light blinked in and out of existence. It wasn’t until a few more appeared that Eddie finally reached over to Steve and pointed towards the field. “Look over there.”

Steve sat up again and squinted his eyes. Then he blinked, rubbed them with his fingers, and blinked again. He said, “What am I looking at?”

A scandalous gasp erupted out of Eddie’s mouth. He lurched backwards with his hands planted on his chest as if he were stabbed. “Steve Harrington has never seen fireflies? Oh, the humanity!”

Steve did a double take, “Wait, those are fireflies?”

Eddie paused, “You… never did that thing as a kid where you go outside and try to catch them?”

Slowly shaking his head, Steve replied, “Not really, no.”

This time, Eddie made a tsk-tsk with the click of his tongue. He reached over to grab Steve’s hand. “Then allow me to show you the missing joys of childhood.”

After a careful jump from the roof, Eddie ran to the field, Steve’s hand still in his grasp. The other man gave out a startled laugh with every urgent pull from Eddie. “Hey, man, slow down-!”

“You seriously need to do this!” Eddie said over his shoulder as they entered the field. The grass was as high as their thighs, tickling Eddie’s arm. As they dashed through, more fireflies flew up and around them.

“Woah.” Steve whispered after Eddie finally stopped. He watched as the other man stared wordlessly at the fireflies, his eyes full in wonder as each insect flickered its glow. A few landed on Steve’s hair and shirt. It would’ve been hilarious for Eddie to laugh at if it hadn’t illuminated him in a way that brought the perfect highlights to his face like the slope of his nose and growing softness of his cheeks.

It was such a perfect portrait that it made Eddie wish he had gotten into photography. He would have a camera ready in his hands and used up the entire film roll to snap the same shot over and over.

Eddie cleared his throat, shaking himself out of the stupor. The other man slowly looked back at him, his eyes covered with a thin layer of unshed tears.

“Cup your hands like this.” He instructed, showing Steve the correct position. Steve furrowed his eyes but copied him. Eddie took a second to glance around himself before his eyes landed on the closest firefly. With careful precision, Eddie grabbed at the firefly, keeping his palms closed but far apart so as not to squish the bug. He slightly opened his thumbs apart, allowing the light of the firefly to shine out.

“Can you do that?” Eddie asked. Steve lightly scoffed, already shaking his head. “C’mon, don’t quit already!”

“You’re like a better expert than me.” Steve said, pausing when a firefly landed on his wrist. They both watched as it crawled up to his fingers and then entered Steve’s cupped hands.

Eddie smirked, finally releasing his captured lighting bug. “Looks like you already are. You just took the patient route.”

They stand together far longer than either of them would like, but neither of them complained. They eventually sat down on the ground and watched the fireflies flew right above their heads as if the stars in the sky were chasing each other.

“Beautiful.” Steve said in a soft voice as he stared upwards.

Eddie nodded, his eyes stuck on Steve’s face. “Sure is.”

They both fall into silence. Until Steve speaks again, “Eddie?”

His heart was already breaking his ribs with how rapid it was going. He swallowed quickly, “Yeah?”

“What-” Steve stops himself, a conflicted expression on his face. “Sorry, it was gonna sound dumb and sensitive. Ignore that-”

“Steve.” Eddie said, bumping the toe of his shoe against Steve’s leg. “No dumb questions. I won’t be offended. Promise.” He added when Steve looked over at him with mild disbelief.

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I was going to ask if.. you had any idea what your future was like.”

Eddie gave out a dramatically weary sigh like he was an old man returning from an odyssey. He spoke like one as he responded, “Ah yes, the future. Let me spin you a yarn-” He broke down into cackles when Steve playfully punched him at the shoulder with an exaggerated eyeroll and a smile of his own. It pinched Eddie’s scarred cheek but it was a small cost to make Steve look happy.

After he settled down, Eddie answered a little more seriously, “To be honest, I’m just focusing on making it, you know? Like sure, I survived literal hell and got my diploma, but I just wanna take my time with the recuperation and just-” he spread his arms out, his hands brushing against the non-flattened grass around hum, “-make it.”

“And after that?” Steve was staring at him. Vulnerability shone in his eyes, hunched his body little forward so that Steve was almost curled into himself.

Eddie shrugged, “Find a trade that doesn’t care about my past or my name. Maybe mechanics or electric. Move out of Indiana. Maybe I’ll turn Canadian.”

Steve snickered, “That’s it?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.” Steve looked away. He started tearing at some of the smaller grass. Sniffed loudly and quickly brushed a hand over his eyes. Eddie wanted to say something but if he did, it might just startle Steve away. And he doesn’t want Steve to leave.

His silence eventually paid off because Steve spoke again, “I- I thought I had a good one. Before I graduated, I thought that I was going to university to study the same boring degree my dad did just to take over his chair when he drops dead. Then I didn’t get into any of the colleges so-”

“Six little nuggets in a Winnebago.” Eddie had eavesdropped on that conversation. He had remembered thinking oh shit, Steve is actually going back to Nancy until he had suddenly hated himself so much that he wanted to rip out his guts and eat them. The usual reaction of having a crush on Steve Harrington.

“Yeah, I still see that happening.” Steve smiled again. His body became less withdrawn into a shell and more open.

“With someone in particular orrrr..?” Eddie drawled out, not willing to say any name aloud.

Steve stretched his arms out and leaned back until he was laying on the ground. Like a magnet, Eddie felt compelled to do the same. Steve’s eyes were on him again. There was something else behind them that Eddie couldn’t decipher even under the billions of dotted lights shining on them.

“I thought I would have that future alone.” Steve said as Eddie laid down. Their shoulders were pressed together, sending goosebumps up Eddie’s arm.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ there.” He said casually. Then he just barely held back a gasp when he felt Steve’s pinky finger resting on top of his.

He dared to turn his head. Steve was already looking back at him.

There was no telling who leaned in first. Or who laid his hand on his bicep. Or who fluttered their eyes shut to savor the other’s taste even though neither of them showered in the morning and smelled of unwashed carpets and countryside musk.

All Eddie knew was that his lips were now touching Steve’s. And they felt so soft and plump.

Eddie refused to pull away. He pressed closer, rolling on his side. Steve’s hand slithered onto his chest, spaying his fingers across his shirt right on Eddie’s heart before gripping the fabric. Then he pulled Eddie up, just enough so his torso was nearly aligned on top of Steve’s.

They broke apart, catching their breaths together in their new proximity. Eddie peeked through his eyelashes, almost taken aback by the great tenderness on Steve’s face.

“But it was with you.” Eddie nearly swallowed the words from how Steve’s lips still touched his.

“Hm?”

“That future I still want?” Steve smiled despite a tear that trailed from the corner of his eye. “It was with you too. Even if you don’t even want it at all.”

What other way was there for Eddie to prove otherwise except to cup Steve’s cheek and kiss him again with the stars and fireflies as their witnesses?

[maritotoy]

MAUGA X Support/Medic Reader ((Part. 1))

NOTE: Believe it or not, I never realize how long I've written this one.

This narrative tracks Mauga's obsession with Y/N as it grows to the point where he is prepared to kill everyone who stands in his way. With this in mind, Mauga's commitment would gradually grow. He would start out softly and then this need on you would get stronger.

It all began when your talents were initially utilised for recruitment. You were a terrific help, willing to assist your teammates in whatever way they needed.

Your main issue was that you could never truly let them handle things on their own. As a result, it became increasingly difficult to care for yourself.

They promised you riches if you helped them fight back against their threat. There were only so many ways to profit from rival worlds, after all. You were aware that you were going into a whole new universe when you agreed, but you also felt that you had no choice but to accept them.

Ultimately, you didn't wish to pass away, did you?

It was stated to you when you first joined TALON Organization, that you should concentrate only on the battlefield. Up until you met Baptiste, an exceptional combat medic, it was great with you. Your shared enthusiasm for curing illness is what unites the two of you. It turned into a shared passion. As you try to acquire experience in several areas, like medical supplies, you both hope to discover some more useful abilities, like healing or even a unique kind of combat capability.

But you can hardly ever get to Baptiste, he's constantly at the top. Both a combat mercenary and medic. You're always looking for ways to sharpen your skills.

Even after meeting him again at your base and on missions, you are still determined to improve your ability to deal with any possible emergencies. Not until later do you find out what happens when a member of your unit gets injured.

Baptiste surged in, carrying an imposing stature and a solid, muscular frame. His voice sounded desperate, asking, "I'm sorry if I came to you! I know you are busy, but I need help with my friend, please, Y/N!" The urgency was so obvious that there wasn't much resistance. Even if he was a doctor himself, it must have seemed urgent enough.

Besides... You were in the right place to help.

You rushed over to his side and helped him stabilize his huge friend. "What happened, Bap? Are you hurt?" He didn't reply, but his eyes told you all you needed to know.

You fix your sight on his pal. He does not appear to be hurt or seriously damage. However, the man's body is completely soaked, which looks very suspicious to you. "Is he alright, Bap? I don't see anything wrong." He shook his head and gave a sigh.

"We were attacked. Mauga and I found the source of the enemy attack and got separated."

"How long has it been since then?"

"Four hours, maybe five."

"Do you have any idea of what may have caused the damage?"

"I'm not sure. However, I had already discovered him unconscious but unharmed on the ground. It should not take long for him to awaken.." You glance at the unconscious man again before you say, "Let me take a look at him." He nodded and stepped aside.

"Mauga could never be wounded by shots like that. Despite his size, he could easily absorb one hit thanks to his physique." He explains.

You crouch down and check on his comrade. He seems fine to you. There's nothing unusual about him, other than the fact that he's a bit too heavy.

You knew Mauga.

And with such.

You just don't know how to engage with him.

On a conversation? Yes. Your profession is your duty.

You don’t really get along with those who rely solely on themselves as an advantage, even though you respect their abilities.

The feeling is mutual. Every time someone gets hurt because of something beyond their control, you are there to help them.

Because that's your job as a medic.

You both have quite a difference in interests, though. You can't stand the fact that he’s so reckless, you can't understand why he doesn't think more carefully before he acts. As soon as he sees blood, it's always the most important thing.

Mauga stands tall, towering over his opponents with an impressive height of 7'5 ft tall. (My headcanon)

Mauga is a formidable opponent on the front lines thanks to his strong, muscular physique. His broad shoulders and thick neck gives off an air of strength and power, and his body is well-built, demonstrating his strength and capacity to deal severe damage to rivals.

Did I mention he has two hearts?

Unlike you, Mauga is a ruthless and cunning individual, driven by his own motivations. He never lets anyone interfere with his goals, whether or not they involve you. While he might act with reckless disregard sometimes, he is also able to calculate the best course of action.

Not anyone knows this. But you knew nontheless with Baptiste.

You may be underestimating him in some way, or you may have witnessed the genuine thing, up close and personal, but he always brags about his achievements without hesitation or shame. His fighting style turns wild and unpredictable when he fights. If Mauga doesn't want to win, he will take his time, before using ChaCha and Gunny, his chainguns, to grab the victory, and he won't give up until he achieves his objective.

He definitely is careless, isn't he?

"He's breathing just fine, Baptiste. I would say he is in perfect health, aside from the injuries, I can't detect any signs of any damage injuries either." You said as you stood up. Baptiste sighs relief. "I'll leave him to you doctor. Don't worry, I trust that you have everything under control." He says this to you while nodding in satisfaction.

This gesture of his is a way of gratitude towards the medic's work.

"I will be back later," he says as he leaves to make a round to prepare for battle.

While Baptiste was gone, you sat next to the downed mercenary soldier and begin to observe him. In the midst of his unconsciousness, he seems to be in a good state. There was no sign of discomfort or pain. His pulses are fast but steady, knowing that Mauga have two hearts, one that allowed him to replace his damaged, organic heart with a cybernetic one. That way, his heart will beat twice as fast. You can easily tell that Mauga is in his natural state.

Your eyes began to feel heavy after observing him for some time. You weren't sure if it's due to fatigue from watching him, or simply exhaustion from your duties as a medic.

Before you knew it, you fell asleep.

When you awoke, you find yourself staring back into the face of Maugaloa Malosi, whose lips formed into those flashing, same pasted smile as usual. “Ah, Doctor. How nice to see you again.”

You quickly wake up, sitting straight up on the chair. “M-Mauga!" You exclaimed, alarmed. "H-How is you- I mean are you feeling alright?”

He grinned at you. “I am feeling rather fine.” You let out a long, sigh of relief. However, you didn't anticipate that this would happen frequently. “I see..." You replied.

Silence takes over for a while. Mauga stared at you intensely before taking a step forward. “Your Y/N, correct? Baptiste little assistant. I've heard much about you, but never expect that I would get to get treated from you.”

You flinched slightly at his words 'assistant' and the word 'little', but you remained calm. “I'm glad that you feel better now. You should rest and recover. If you still need them..."

“I appreciate the concern,” he says as he reaches towards your shoulder. You instinctively raise your hands in preparation of blocking. This caught him off guard, causing him to pause in his movements, then booms laughing.

“My apologies, Teuila. I thought that you might have forgotten what I do here,” he said in that familiar, friendly tone.

“If I recall correctly, I haven't given you permission to touch me.” This comment caught him off guard as he chuckles deeply.

He stares at your hand for a while longer. You're beginning to become worried. After a brief silence, he reaches forward and lightly holds onto your wrist.

“That’s a very sensitive spot…” He whispers gently. Your heartbeat begins to accelerate. “And your pulse is fast. Is this normal?” he asks. “Yes,” you respond in a soft voice.

“Then why are you afraid? You know I'm not going to hurt you...” He grinned. His sharp teeth glinted menacingly in the dim light. "Surely you've already made a friend? You also gave him a lot of attention than you do with me. Or have you grown to dislike me?"

"...I... I beg your pardon-" your speech is interrupted by Baptiste with a tired expression.

"Hey... Sorry that I took so long. I went to gather supplies. Mission was a success." He sighed in relief as he approached you.

"Mauga, I'm glad your awake bud." Baptiste sighs in relief and smiles at Mauga. Mauga returned the gesture before looking back at you.

He still has that huge grin plastered across his features while his eyes darted towards yours. "You're crazy out there Mauga. Do you really think that you can defeat the enemies single handedly?" Baptiste says with a chuckle. “You know me Baptiste, I never do things without planning them out.” He grinned, revealing that row of dazzlingly white teeth. “I still don't understand how you've been knocked down so easily. It's hard to believe that you can be beaten like that.” Baptiste gives a half smirk, half frown.

You listen to their conversation, and you try to make sense of it. Mauga laughs at the situation, as if it's all so obvious. "C'mon, Baptiste, we have bigger problems than me right now. The mission is a success because we finally found the enemy camp. But it was a close call, and we needed your medical expertise to treat the wounded," Mauga explains to Baptiste while looking directly into his eyes with a sly smile. "I carried your massive ass in this camp with support of your weight alone. You ought to be pleased to have a subordinate with such skill." Baptiste smirks. He was referring to you. Mauga laughs at his friend's criticism, displaying his amusement at the circumstances.

"So yeah. It was pretty rough, but we managed to secure the objective! Isn't that great news?"

It's not really a surprise to you.

Mauga does tend to put himself in danger, especially when he's in an unfamiliar place.

This guy is completely reckless, which is why you can't believe that he managed to survive so many battles without falling apart or breaking down.

"Your a loose-canon, but I hope ended well..." you say calmly, hoping that you sound convincing enough.

"I can assure that I have the highest respect and admiration for your abilities as a medic. I would never doubt your skills, even if I hadn't personally experience how skilled you are in dealing with wounds." Mauga comments, he sounds sincere as ever.

Baptiste grins again. "That's a big ego of yours, my friend. You should consider giving a few compliments to the people who did more than you."

"I would love to, my friend, but there's nothing wrong with being modest about our accomplishments."

"Alright," Baptiste said, sounding annoyed.

--------

After several hours, days, months of treating your patients at base. You cannot help but wonder seeing Mauga quite often, whether that is purely because of duty or something else. Although it is difficult to tell what he's thinking, there are moments where you notice the way that he is constantly staring at you. Like he's trying to figure out something about you:

studying your appearance, facial expressions, mannerisms. Sometimes he gets lost in his thoughts, sometimes he appears to be lost in his own world, occasionally, you could catch him smirking knowingly, or even smiling to himself. These small gestures usually only occur during times when it's with you with him. Sometimes, the man is just too cheerful, or too energetic in general.

You could hardly handle the stress of handling all these patients in the infirmary on your own. You're starting to miss having Baptiste around to keep him occupied while you go through patients. You sighed loudly not until Mauga appears behind you

You found him with wounds on his chest and torso. You turn to look at him, "What happened?"

"Nothing serious..." He grins, showing his sharpened teeth.

"Just a minor injury, eh?" You raise an eyebrow at the mercenary, crossing your arms over your chest. Mauga simply shrugs as he sits on a table.

There was another period of silence between you two, and the atmosphere seemed to tense up considerably. This time, it's you who breaks the silence. "I'm sorry that you got injured. I don't know how I should react seeing someone else getting hurt so casually. You could have died out there. And that's not the worst thing that can happen," you said sarcastically and sternly.

He chuckles. "Oh really? Tell me more." He leans closer to your face, gazing deeply into your eyes. "Ah. So that's how it is."

You glare at him angrily, but he ignores you as you continue working. "Are you seriously going to mock me for worrying about you?"

"Not at all," he replied, with a hint of sarcasm. "But there is one thing that concerns me."

"What? You're going to insult me too, aren't you?" Mauga laughs while Y/N tends his injury.

The felt of your touch sends shivers throughout his entire body. He tries hard to suppress the sudden urge to grab her hand and hold on tightly. It's becoming harder to control these urges though. He shakes his head rapidly as he pulls away from you. He looks at you with narrowed eyes. "I'm not mocking you, you know?"

Your gaze flicks briefly to his. "Hm."

There was a short silence between you two, until you began to clean a cut on one of his legs. You noticed his gaze follow every movement of your fingers. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I'd prefer that you didn't ask questions so frequently, Teuila."

"Teuila?" You face him. "You know, I never asked you of this... But why do you call me that?" He lets out a deep chuckle and replies. "Because you look like Teuila. It fits well, doesn't it?" He flashes you a warm smile before turning his head away again.

You shrugged of his answer, continuing your work without saying anything further, although you were extremely curious. "Teuila... What does that word mean?" There's a brief moment of silence in between the two of you once you finished cleaning up the blood staining his leg. A faint smile plays across his lips again. "I thought you were better than that."

"And you think that you're better than me?"

"Yeah," he replies smugly.

"Then... You've obviously underestimated me, don't you?" You give him a challenging smirk. He returns the smile with a smirk of his own, but he then turns serious again. His eyes narrow. "Let me enlighten you. That name means 'flower'. Do you understand what kind of flower it means?"

You gave him a blank stare. He continues to smirk, waiting for you to understand his meaning. Eventually, you sigh, putting your hands on your hips. "Do I look like I care to know?" You scoff, rolling your eyes lightly.

Mauga laughs. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter what you think of it..."

There was silence between you two for a few seconds, and you looked away with furrowed brows.

You finish patching up the mercenary, placing some bandages around him and securing them securely. "Now that I finished helping you, you're dismissed." You professionaly said after you made sure that everything was covered properly. Mauga laughs at this. "Really? Now? Just like that?" He asks mockingly.

"Yes Mauga, I don't have any other duties besides tending to your wounds. I've been doing that for quite some time now," you responded coldly.

Mauga raises an eyebrow at this. "You know, if you start beginning to care about those wounds, you might find yourself losing them. If you want me to leave your clinic quickly, then you'll have to earn my trust first, which requires some work."

You sigh heavily. Of course Mauga will insist on making things difficult for you. "I am no doctor Mauga, I cannot cure your injuries." You sarcasticly said.

"Oh I know that. But you're still willing to take the risk." He chuckled.

"You wouldn't had to waste precious time coming here in order to talk shit."

Mauga laughs at you again, grinning like a cat that ate the canary. "I wouldn't waste too much time coming here either, but I also wouldn't be able to enjoy it quite as much because you'll be gone by then," he says confidently. "Besides, you're not exactly known for your patience." You roll your eyes, turning back to the table in front of you.

"You know I've always wondered what it feels like to be your patient," Mauga mused. "To be the one receiving the attention of the most skilled medic in your battalion."

"You must be joking," you replied, you know what he meant, not wanting to think that you would ever become his patient.

"No. You know me... " He grins. You groaned. "Don't' make such assumptions, we don't know each other all that well yet."

"Yet..."

You glared at him as he laughed. "Whatever. It seems like there's no stopping you, is there? We haven't even officially met yet, and already you're acting as if you have a good relationship with me." You sighed exasperatedly, massaging the area of your forehead in irritation.

"Listen, Mauga. My job is simple, I care for my patients and treat them well. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Oh yeah? Well, maybe I'm different," he said cockily.

"How? Are you not afraid of dying?"

"No... No I'm not... I've done so much more reckless things than death." His expression suddenly shifted to an emotionless one. For a moment, it felt almost as if he wasn't looking at you anymore. Then he chuckled softly, giving you a playful wink. "But I'm no saint."

"It must be hard to admit being human." You shook your head slightly.

"Sometimes." His grin returned to his features.

You couldn't help but stare directly into his eyes for a little longer, taking in how dark they actually are.

Mauga shows a huge plastered face. His still wearing his dumb smile.

You blinked at him.

He blinked back.

You rolled your eyes. "Stop smiling so much." He continued to laugh, as you turned away from him again. Mauga stood up and stretched lazily, "I have something to attend to, I'll be seeing you later," Mauga teasingly said as he made his way towards the door. He opens it, but he glances back.

A small smirk forms on his lips.

You watch him disappear outside the door, closing it behind him with a click. Once the door closes you let out a heavy sigh, resting your back against the wall behind you. Your heart is racing a mile, a minute, both at the prospect of having finally been alone with Mauga again, and the strange feeling within you after you spent several hours alone with him.

This feeling...

It's definitely not normal.

End of part 1

Part 2- ???

[renonm]

OMG HII MASHLE BLOG AND MORE SKDJKDKS umm can I request reader x either orter or rayne coming back from a mission and they turn into a child ( kinda like that one episode where lance and dot became babies hahaja) like maybe kaldo or ryoh drop the reader at their office and they gotta babysit them hehe thank you if you ever take up on this request! ~ ᗢ

> || Orter Mádl x gn!reader

A/N: Hey chat maybe if this gets a lot of likes I’ll do Rayne(after like.. a few requests, trust!!) Sorry that it took so long and it turned out to be shitty lol, uh barely proofreaded, hope y'all enjoy tho

As someone who strives to work a lot, there particularly have always been tasks that mostly have been assigned to you that could be considered odd… There would have been examples now, but it’s sort of the best to specifically forget about it…, which kind of is fairly significant.

Today generally was just like any ordinary day, checking paperwork, sitting on a chair, and remaining in your office for the entire day in a particularly major way. However, this could have been considered the most normal workday you've ever had for the generally entire week. Unfortunately, no.

It was supposed to be a normal day! Till someone knocked at your office door. It slowly creaked itself open, revealing Kaldo, that man who has a weird addiction to honey, walked in. Carrying what almost looked like a baby. Go get your glasses checked. (Do you even wear any?)

“Good day, Mx. (L/N). I, the Flame Cane, Kaldo Gehenna, Have come to assign you with a very important ta—“ “Get straight to the point.” You interrupted Kaldo as he spoke. Another task? Why yes, “Alright, I will… So, please take care of ‘little’ Orter.” The Flame cane spoke in what seemed to be a ‘forced formal tone’. You had easily identified that he was trying to make this quick, perhaps he had other activities for the day But wait, what did Kaldo mean by ‘little Orter’? Did he mean Wirth?

“Wirth?” You asked, but you took realization as you fixed your gaze on the baby, it was Orter. Orter fucking Mádl. The Sand Cane. Mr. Grumpyface. The book nerd. It was him! He got turned into a baby??? HOW???

If there’s something to expect in working at the Bureau of Magic, it is that they can assign weird and obscure tasks that could be considered as “vague.” But if it was for protecting the people, then so be it. For the sake of the people… Focusing back on the current events,

“No, Orter.” The man paused before speaking again. “He got turned into a baby because of an individual move he made on a mission… But, ah, look! Isn't he so cute?” Kaldo poked Orter’s cheeks, sure, he may be cute, but Kaldo may have forgotten that Orter could use 10% of his sand magic, therefore he used it to spray sand on the white-haired man’s eyes, temporarily blinding him. It was a funny interaction, you chuckled. But knowing that you had to take this seriously, you nodded. There goes your free time, but it's for a comrade! And that comrade is Orter…. Yikes…. Okay, maybe you’d want this.

“Alright, I'll take him in, you owe me one though, Kaldo—” Before you could continue, the Flame Cane already left in a rush, leaving Orter at your desk. Now it was just you and that baby. Even being in such a small form, he still glares intensely. A question lingers in your head, how do you take care of babies? Is it necessary to treat Orter as one? After all, this effect only looks momentary. No one knows how long. But what you know is that the black-haired child(man) would not want to be treated as a baby. He is physically 23, he can grind you to sand! But now, he is in what can be considered one of the most vulnerable states he has ever been in, if not the most vulnerable. No wonder why Kaldo urged you to babysit him. This was urgent for the sake of the Divine Visionaries. Losing Orter was a monumental risk. How bad can this be?

Really bad.

Time had passed, and both of you were in a staring competition. Though, you guys were well acquainted or even best friends! Or maybe even more than that. Yet this feels awkward. You have no experience with babies. How does one talk to a baby? “Goo goo gaa gaa???” You said to Orter in an attempt to communicate with him. He stared back. Then proceeds to use his magic to throw sand on your eyes. The pain was minimal, at least. He taps at the paperwork you were supposed to finish. You got reminded! But where to place the baby… Surely now, he was tasking you to finish it. HE WAS GLARING.

There was only one choice. Actually, there were plenty but Orter was your friend, of course, you’d want to spend time with him, even as a baby.

Placing baby Orter near you!!! Surely the chair you were sitting on had some space for one more!! So you carried him and placed him near where you sat at. Pat pat, patting Orter’s head felt quite nice. (Orter may feel the same way but refuses to express it.)

“Stay here, alright?” You instructed to Orter wagging your hand… He’s gonna be pissed once he turns back to normal, WAS IT NECESSARY TO TREAT HIM LIKE AN ACTUAL BABY??? Why yes, of course. Did he resist? Not much, he only sat down next to you peacefully, Damm. You're gonna make fun of him after this.

A few hours in(it's been a few minutes, this is just exaggerated.) and you already feel fatigued after working, glancing at Orter thinking he was asleep and perhaps you can slack off, nope. Still awake. This made you consider your strength. Why are you scared of a baby? well, this is Orter you're babysitting, but by the looks of it, Orter is the one babysitting you. “What uh… Are you hungry young one?” You asked and he nodded no in response, instead, he pointed at your paperwork, ordering you to stop focusing on him and to finish it. Of course you had to follow that.

(If this were to ever be in a modern setting, he would be the definition of the boss baby.)

Okay, this time, it had been hours in, and you now feel sincerely tired. Taking a glimpse at the window, it was already afternoon, taking a small check at Orter, yes! He's finally resting!! Staring back, you can see how Orter looked relaxed by simply getting rest, even as a baby, it felt like it was enough. Working at the Bureau of Magic requires a lot of sacrificing of schedule to keep the world at peace. The Sand Cane was dedicated to that. Even the fact that he somewhat turned into a baby. You had always admired his hard work, and now, here he is. Asleep near you as a baby. You’d love to tease him once he turns back. Only if you’d survive the sand attack. That was for him to settle, now it was safe to slack off. You’ve finished the majority of your tasks anyway, so you relax in the chair, leaning in, closing your eyes as you process your thoughts on what happened today. Whatever, just make sure that you wake up earlier than that cranky-ass baby with glasses. You refuse to get sand in your eyes again.

An hour or two had passed, ah yes, the Excellency(you) had awakened from their slumber. (exaggerated again… lol..) But something felt so odd, that caused you to open your eyes, just to reveal that a coat was draped around you, whose coat was this… Looking to your side, Orter was gone. KALDO WAS GONNA KILL YOU.

“I'm right here,” Orter called, which caused you to look in front of the desk, it was him. Sitting across the desk, yours specifically. What should concern you more? The fact that he wasn't wearing his coat and gave it to you, or the fact that he was reviewing the paperwork you did earlier??

“Oh, uhm. Sorry, I suppose this is yours—” You were about to return his jacket, it felt morally wrong to take it, because…. It's not yours?

“No, keep it for now.” Oh? Orter even insisted that felt odd, yet appreciated by you. It looked like an invite that he was letting you tease him. He looked back at your work and nodded in approval, that was good. At least you weren't gonna pull out your soul out of your body this time. “You have surprisingly done well.” Well, obviously! It’s about time that someone notices your efforts. Who wouldn’t want to compliment you? (Probably Orter.)

Both exchanged gazes with one another, Orter’s grasp on your paper softened, eventually placing it back down on your table. He looks up at you, with a gaze that looks like he’s expecting you to speak. “Ah, uhm, yeah. I worked hard for those!! Haha…” You exclaimed, trying to lighten up the mood, but was met with even more awkwardness. As much as you hate to admit, it was hard to pick up a proper conversation with him. Always so stoic, so subtle… Yet so handsome? What’s there to dislike… Well, probably the fact that you assumed that he was oblivious.

Orter stares at his watch before looking back at you, “Meet me after work, I’ll treat you for a drink. As my compensation.” He said, of course, the person you are, you tried your best to remain a stoic face. One thing about Orter was, he was straightforward. You nodded, “Quite demanding, aren't we? Fine, I shall accept, but you must tell me the reason why you’re doing this—” poof. Orter was gone already? This was the second time that someone left while you were talking. However, you were left with a feeling of bewilderment. He technically asked you out.

Outside your office, Orter remained still. What is this that he felt? Love— was it? He was a man who could mask his emotions well, but his ears were red. He hid it well. Not to mention, he planned to purposely leave his jacket to you, so that you were forced to go to meet up with him. You looked nice in his coat. Enough for Orter to let out a small smile as he visualized the scene again. “Nice,” he muttered.

“My, my, I wonder why Orter is suddenly smiling out of L/N’s office.” A man called out, it was Kaldo. Orter frowned once again and glared at the Flame cane. “You saw nothing.” The Sand cane spoke out in an authoritative tone before leaving. In the end, this was all Kaldo’s planning, to force Orter to take the shield(which turned him into a baby) and for you to take care of him. He knew that Orter was too inexperienced and lacking in romance. He needs honey to celebrate, yippee.

But, it’s a date, right?

[summerscribble]

After Work // Artem Wing

tw nsfw, fem read, fem x artem, pregnancy kink, mating press, no protection, penetration, blowjob, mdni

summary last week, when you were drunk, you somewhat shyly brought up to your husband, Artem that you wanna have his kids, and the following morning you couldn't recall anything, Artem had been thinking a lot about that date night, and what your drunk ass said, it is even affecting his work. Tonight, he settles on his pondering and decides to remind you about the words you've forgotten.

Artem has been busier these days, you arrive home early but he decides to stay longer, and you miss doing little chores with him like cooking dinner together or taking a bath together before hopping into bed and then cuddling to sleep, in short, you have been missing your husband a lot lately.

However, he slides into bed late at night when you're already deep asleep, you barely have a short interaction during work hours as you both are working on different cases. It's just those little moments, where you aren't getting any quality time for each other since last week's date night where you ended up consuming a lot of liquor to even remember how you ended up from the restaurant to your bedroom.

You just wanna have him for the weekend so you can take care of your hard-working husband but Artem has been so involved in work. You worry about his health because he still strictly follows his perfect schedule but it is now tiresome in his eyes, he doesn't even talk much during breakfast.

You have learned how to cook lately so it's very efficient for both of you and even a great help during your husband's busy schedule days. The light conversation you only get to have with him is in the morning which also gets interrupted by any of his urgent calls.

"Are you leaving early?" You ask when he pours juice into your glass.

He gives a small smile, "I have to."

"Artem…" You hold his arm gently, "I'm worried about you. I want to help you with this case."

There's a reflection of pain in his eyes, "I'm so sorry sweetheart. I didn't mean to stress you out. There was this misleading evidence I had to look into on an urgent basis. We are going to wrap up most of the stuff today. I will be coming home tonight on time."

"Please, let me know if you want any help, Artem." You worryingly stroke on his hand.

He places a soft kiss on your lips, "Of course."

Artem leaves for work early again, he is indeed busy with work these days but the main thing that kept distracting him from doing his work correctly was the conversation he had with you a week back when you both were having a date at a restaurant and by the end of the night you both were tipsy. While getting into an Uber he remembers you whispered in his ear, "Artem, I wanna become a mother."

That immediately flushed his face and he looked back at you. You were more than tipsy. He searched for any seriousness on your face but you remained smiling at him. It's not like you guys never had this conversation about becoming parents, it was just too sudden for now.

He asked, "You wanna have children?"

You nod hugging him, "I want a little artem and take him to school and take care of him."

That made him chuckle.

You frowned at him, "Don't you think we should start planning for kids."

He was drunk and not in the right state of mind to have that conversation at that time. He was just getting nervous to even imagine himself as a father figure.

You softly kissed him on the lips that night, "I love you, babe."

It melts his heart every time he hears that. He kissed you back, "I love you more." And now he wanted to keep the promise of giving you the world when he decided to marry the love of his life. Did you want kids? Okay, he is going to learn how to be the best father.

You do not remember much about what happened that night and also don't remember that you told him you wanted to have kids. But it has been always in the back of your head that someday you want to start a family with him. You finished your work early and checked on Artem and he was not in the office. You asked about his whereabouts and you were informed that he was still on sight.

You texted him and he replied that he would be back home soon and cook dinner for you. You rushed back home and started preparing for dinner, you can't let your husband come tired at home and cook for you. Why can't your man understand that you want him to have a little rest lately?

You finished preparing the dinner and were waiting for him but then he texted you he would be late again. That made your mood a little bit gloomy. You had dinner alone, took a bath, and now you were in bed alone.

You stretch your hand to the side where Artem usually sleeps. You sigh cause you miss him. You leave a text but no reply and while waiting for that you fall asleep.

In the middle of the night, you feel a warm palm brushing against your stomach. You feel your husband's warm presence behind you. You stretch your hand to pull him closer, "When did you return?"

You look at the nightstand, the digital clock reads 02:45 AM. "Just a minute ago or something." Artem's deep voice lingers in the darkness near your ear as he pulls your back closer to his chest. A sudden heat rises down your core.

You speak softly, "Artem-"

"Yes baby," He kisses your neck. You let out a soft moan. The cedarwood scent his washed heavily in exhaustion from the long day he must have had.

"You must be tired, Artem." He's still in his work clothes.

"I wrapped up everything and hurried back to you." He leaves a bite on your earlobe. His other hand still rubbing on your stomach and sliding a bit down. You exhale sharply. It's almost been a week since Artem and you had sex. You sense the urgency of need in his movement reflecting something similar to yours.

"Artem… You don't have to tonight--"

He stops, "Are you tired? I can cuddle you to sleep." But his hand says otherwise as it slides up into your t-shirt around your breasts.

"Artem-It's not-" He pinches your nipples. The air almost halts passing down your throat.

"You smell so good, baby," His warm breath touches your cold skin when he buries his nose into your neck, inhaling sharply, "I miss having meals with you, I miss bathing with you." He pulls your body closer filling the depth between your bodies, "I fucking missed you."

Before you could respond he tucks your hair under his finger and attacks your nape with wet kisses, "Baby, I need you." He brushes his growing bulge on your ass.

"I need you too." It trembles you more when he tilts your face to access your lips and before that, you witness a pure hunger of desire in his eyes.

He claims your lips between his and deepens the kiss, fondling and massaging your breasts. You moan in between and feel his lips curling, "Fuck. I missed you more." He slides down and leaves wet kisses on your tits. You brush your fingers into his soft hair. You love when he fucks you in his work clothes. It just does something to you. It crumbles your walls and your husband knows it well.

In seconds he removes your t-shirt and throws it on the floor leaving you naked in your panty. He sits on his knees in between you. His burning stare flames up your skin. You try covering your tits with your hand. His blazing gaze in taking every inch detail of your body, "Baby, you remember? You said last week you want to have kids."

Nothing could have prepared you for hearing, that. It makes your eyes widen in shock, "I-What?"

Artem removes his jacket while responding, "You said it's time we finally have a kid." Your clits believe that's the sweetest thing she has heard. Having kids. Damn, you don't even remember you mentioned it.

"Artem, I don't remember much."

He removes his tie. You love how he's s giving you the best strip show. Cause you have told Artem before for a thousand times how much you love and get turned on seeing him like this. Your hips move and he smiles staring straight into your eyes, "The app we use to track your cycle says you are ovulating, babe."

"Artem-" Your voice hitches when he uncuffs his sleeves and starts rolling up to his elbows.

"Isn't that great? I can impregnate you tonight."

When he catches you not replying to his questions. He leans down, flexing his forearm muscles. Your man is on a mission today.

"Tell me, darling, are you ovulating?"

You don't know how to hide your flushed face, "Maybe, I'm not sure."

When his face is near yours you notice his bare chest visible under his unbuttoned shirt. You trace your fingers over the delicate chain that hung around his neck that you gifted him a few years back.

His hand brushes on your hips, pulling you closer to his center. You breathe hitches and you make a sound.

"I'm gonna ask you for the final time, baby. Do you want me to fuck you raw tonight?" You melt right away. Artem knows what he's doing tonight.

You nod, "Yes I wanna have kids, Artem."

That shifts something in his azure eyes and now they appear to be darker. He pushes his hip against your center, You feel his bulge through his pants.

You moan.

"You want to feel it deep inside, right baby?."

"Artem-"

With that, you hear him unbuckling his belt. It excites you too much and you can feel yourself drenching your panty. You have not been on birth control for a few months now but Artem always uses condoms anyway. It's been months that you have felt him raw.

His stare never leaves yours as he goes down and halts near your cunt, his lips touch your covered clits but it still sends shivers. His other hand glides up to massage your breasts you can feel his cold metal wristwatch and the wedding ring against your skin.

He caresses your clit through your panty. His index and middle finger slowly pull down your panty uncovering your pussy for him. His long fingers touch your sensitive bud and you can't stop holding your cries, "Artem…" Your hips start buckling up.

The desperation in your eyes, makes him catch your desire and even he no longer can control himself. His blood rushes down and he wanna fuck you. He's dying to do that but he's too turned on and might hurt you being too rough. Despite, your loving him and giving you the deepest thrusts but he gotta be human tonight however, he wanna fuck you like an animal in a rut.

He straightens himself on his knees and pulls out your panty while supporting your lifted legs with his other hand. That leaves a soft shrill in your mouth.

He unzips his pants exciting you even more. He loves how your eyes are hungry staring at the bulged form under his brief. He blushes when you bite your lower lips staring at him pulling out his cock.

"Artem, Can I taste it?" That makes his heartbeat knock louder.

Before he could have replied you are already pushing yourself up and sit between in front of him and staring down to access his veiny dick. He doesn't stop you once you start bending. He feels you stroke his dick with your wet tongue. He grips your hair, slowly, "Just a taste baby, cause tonight I wanna cum inside you."

You nod obediently, putting your mouth against his tip, and sucking on it, Artem blood rushes in the direction wherever your tongue trails. It was going to be tough for him to not fuck your mouth. Cause he loves your little skillful mouth. He moans and you take him down your throat. You love how he was looking down at you and gripping your hair. His hips started thrusting but he also started cursing, "Baby, Please stop I wanna be inside you."

But you don't, you want a taste of him and when you almost go to use your hands, he pulls out. It is visible how hard it is for him to do that. His eyes are hungry.

Artem pushes you on your back and lifts your legs, trapping you between his knees and bending you in a mating position. His thick cock penetrates you. You moan loudly feeling your walls stretch, "Artem-Arte-It hurts."

That doesn't stop him from pushing into more, "Baby, Your pussy loves when I'm rough with you." You can't deny it at all.

His pelvis rubs your clits sweetly giving him more access to be deep inside you. He starts thrusting and moaning.

Your hips respond to get in sync. He kisses your lips making you moan. It didn't even take a moment for him to increase the pace and pound inside you faster.

"Artem-"

Every thrust sends you into oblivion.

His cock hits your sweet spot every time, you melt right away. His hand grips your leg to support him in penetrating deeply. He pushes inside you. He loves staring at your bouncy tits, "Fuck, Baby you will have my kids."

"Artem." You moan in response.

Continuous thrusting and his possessive dirty talk about making you pregnant leave your mind numb and flooding with pleasures.

He bends to take your lips between his, "You're gonna look so beautiful baby. With a swollen stomach and tits." With that he bites in your moans, leading you close to your climax.

Your eyes start tearing up as his thrusts keep getting faster.

"I will fuck you till you get pregnant baby."

You almost reached climax hearing that. He looks down between you both and he enjoys how his raw dick enters your moist pussy, "Your pussy is so obedient to me."

His gentlemanly attire makes him look sinister.

"Artem'm coming. Please go harder-"

His hand bends your leg more and he starts pounding more harshly inside you. You cry and he studies your expression, "Cum for me sweetheart."

With that, you shatter down and his pounds chase your orgasm and you clench your cunt around him feeling him coming inside you too. He bites on your throat and leaves a few marks around your neck till his hips forcefully pound inside you. Your hips move in sync against his till he milks you walk. His satisfying grunts surround the air as he fills you up.

You wanna pass out. The after-effects leave you both breathing heavily. He pulls out and stares when you leak his cum. There's something animalistic in his look when he presses his finger around your cunt and pushes inside to make it stop leaking.

"Artem-" You mewl.

"I guess I have to fuck you again, tonight."

[babydollmarauders]

Jack and mom finding out they are pregnant or gender reveal?

i was so tired when i wrote this and i have not proofread it, so i hope it’s okay

*

it hadn’t even occurred to me that i could be pregnant. chalking the sickness and fatigue up to the stress of wedding planning, the cravings and tenderness in my breast being attributed with getting my period soon.

when i was complaining about everything to Jack, he only asked if i should go to an urgent care or if my period was this week. which in turn, got me thinking; i’ve been using an upcoming period as an excuse for two weeks without even realizing that i’ve yet to actually get my monthly cycle.

“Jack! you coming?” Quinn’s voice drifts up the stairs of the lake house, quickly followed by the sound of scolding from Ellen about his yelling.

“alright, i gotta go.” Jack stands from our bed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “i love you.”

he jogs out of the room, rushing to catch up with his dad and brothers for their golf day.

quickly pulling out my phone, i tap into my period tracking app, a lump forming in my throat at the words displayed.

period 6 days late

eyeing the keys to Jack’s range rover that sit on the dresser, i sigh, standing and retrieving them. i step down the stairs a lot quieter than Jack had just moments before.

“hey hun! i’m meeting some friends at that one mom and pop’s pizza place. i can never remember the name, the one like forty-five minutes out? do you wanna come?” Ellen calls to me as i enter the living room. despite the mix of emotions battling for dominance in my body, i smile, shaking my head.

“no. i’m okay, thank you!” i tell her. “i’m actually about to drive over to the drug store real quick, do you need anything?”

“no, i’m okay! thank you, hun! you sure you don’t wanna come? i feel bad leaving you here all by yourself!” she tells me and i just shake my head again, assuring her that i’m okay by myself. Ellen shrugs and we bid each other a goodbye before i take off out the door.

the drive to CVS is quick, the trip in even quicker because i don’t think twice about which kind of test to buy, i just grab one of almost every option.

by the time i make it back to the lake house, Ellen has already left, leaving me with the house to myself.

i take a deep breath, steeling my nerves as i go grab a bottle of water. chugging the water, i eat a quick snack and pace around the empty downstairs until i feel the need to pee.

making the trek upstairs to the bathroom, i pause in the doorway.

should i be doing this without Jack?

should i be telling him before i take a test?

before i can chicken out, another wave of light nausea hits me and i decide that i can’t wait any longer. Jack is right, if these come back negative then i should probably go to urgent care, just in case something is seriously wrong. and that’s better done sooner rather than later, right?

my hands shake, making it hard to take the tests, but i get it done, setting each one on the counter. with a timer set on my phone, i sit on the cold bathroom floor, my thoughts racing at the possibility of being pregnant.

it’s not like Jack and i have never talked about having kids. we have. plenty of times. we just never imagined it this soon. we’re not even married yet, our wedding is in two weeks. Jack has talked about hoping to have kids alongside Quinn or Luke, but neither of them are even in relationships, let alone having kids soon. will he be upset about that?

or could this be an exciting thing? the idea of having a mini me or Jack running around our apartment. Jack teaching them how to skate, how to play hockey. imagining the apartment full of children’s toys and play hockey sets. dressing them in a jersey and taking them to see Jack play. a child calling me “mama”.

i’m torn out of my thoughts by the sound of my timer, quickly clicking the stop button. i stare up towards the counter, not yet ready to read the results, but somehow already knowing what they’ll say.

i stand up slowly, dragging out the process in order to provide myself with extra time. taking one last deep inhale, i count to three before looking at the tests.

positive.

two lines.

a plus sign.

pregnant.

tears well in my eyes at the results. i’m overjoyed, but i can’t help the nagging feeling in the back of my mind. my heart telling me i’m excited to have a baby, a product of Jack and i, while my brain overthinks, wondering what Jack will think, if he’ll be upset.

grabbing the tests, i go back to our bedroom, sticking them in my bedside table drawer before laying down on the bed. tears well in my eyes as my mind pings from one thought to another. happy and then scared.

i’ve probably laid there for an hour before i find myself falling asleep.

*

“hey, baby.” i’m stirred from my sleep by the sound of Jack’s voice. “you been in here the whole day?”

my eyes flutter open, coming face to face with my fiancé, who squats down beside the bed. i sleepily shake my head at his question.

“no? what’d you do then, pretty girl?” he wonders, switching to sit on the edge of the bed while running his hand over my hair. he leans down to press a kiss to my forehead, and it’s only now that i realize he’s freshly showered and changed out of his golfing clothes.

i can hear the voice of Trevor outside our room, yell-telling a story to lord knows who.

“i found out what’s wrong with me.” i barely even second guess telling him. i thought long and hard about it before i fell asleep and it’s better to tell him now rather than in a few weeks.

“oh yeah?” Jack asks. “was i right? was it your period?”

i’m silent for a beat, just trying to think about how to phrase my next few words.

“um, i guess you could say that?” i tell him “or rather something to do with it.”

“that’s good.” “i’m pregnant.”

we both speak at the same time and i watch as recognition slowly spreads across his face. his hand drops from my hair, making me nervous.

“w-what?” he gives a few slow blinks, trying to process the information i just threw at him.

sitting up in the bed, i reach over and open the bedside drawer, clutching the tests in my hands and holding them out to Jack.

he stares at them for a few moments before taking them into his own hand. he rifles through each test, reading the results.

“can you please say something?” i whisper, tears pricking the back of my eyes. the anxiety is eating at me, nervous of what he thinks.

“we’re gonna have a baby?” his voice is quiet as he looks up at me, his eyes soft. i just nod in response, unable to speak without a sob coming out.

he drops the tests on the bed, cupping my face and crashing his lips on mine. soft and sweet, full of love and affection. he pulls away, laying his forehead on mine.

“we’re having a baby.” he whispers, more to himself than me.

“is that okay?” i question.

“that’s more than okay.” he tells me, pulling back to really look me in the eyes.

“i know you’ve talked before about wanting to have kids around the same time as your brothers, and i’m sorry that-”

“fuck that. we’re having a baby! a little you and me.” he wears an excited smile, placing another chaste kiss to my lips.

“yeah, we’re having a baby.”

[i9messi]

Can you do one of Messi’s daughter and Gabi babysit her brothers and gavi being scared because of what ciro said last time “I don’t want you to have a boyfriend” and he really wants his girlfriends brothers to like him? And can you have the boys be overprotective?

(I loved the idea, thank you so much.) Part one here

The Messi boys — Pablo Gavi

Word count — 928

gavi's masterlist

They’re just kids, that’s what you said to Gavi while you were trying to calm him down on the way to your parents' house. Your dad and your mom had gone on a date and asked you if you could take care of your brothers while they were gone. You undoubtedly accepted, you loved your siblings and you wanted to spend your time with them. Gavi knew how much you loved them, so he also wanted to be helpful and offered to go with you. However, for the Messi boys, the presence of your boyfriend wasn't a good idea.

Ciro was the least pleased that your boyfriend was there. Last time he saw Gavi, he was a little reluctant about you having a boyfriend. As soon as he had seen Pablo arrive he started asking him questions. You had laughed and tried to distract him while playing Uno. Gavi really tried to make the kids feel comfortable with him, because he loved you with all his heart and wanted to get along with the children.

But your brothers were too overprotective. In the moment Gavi tried to reach out to hold your hand, Ciro did not hesitate to separate your holding hands. The kid was angry and jealous, you were his sister.

"Don’t touch her!"

"We just wanted to hold hands, he’s my boyfriend, you know. It’s a thing couples do." you explained to the youngest, trying to calm the situation.

"Gross. I hate the displays of love." said your other brother, Mateo, imitating that he was vomiting.

"I dislike Gavi, I don’t like him." Ciro had no shame in telling you what he thought about the footballer.

"Ciro!"

In a few seconds your brothers had brought to light the problems they had with your boyfriend and it was no surprise. You had talked to your mom about that, after the visit you had made the last time. As much as you had tried to make them understand that you were an adult, they continued with their overprotection.

You looked at Gavi, who looked at Ciro without saying anything. When he felt the weight of your look you tried to tell him to take things slow, the children could be little devils when they wanted and they were testing him. In fact, they had tested him since he had arrived, asking him questions and trying to anger him.

"How many times do I have to tell you to not be rude with Gavi?" You played the role of the big sister again.

The children were silent and they didn't say anything more to make things worse. A while later, you lost the game and as you urgently needed to go to the bathroom, you made the decision to leave your three brothers alone with your boyfriend. Maybe it was a bad idea, after the tension that was felt in the environment. You tried not to take long, but when you arrived, you heard them whispering. You hid behind the door so they couldn’t see you or notice you.

"Listen to us carefully, Spanish boy. We don’t like you and we don't want you to date our sister." Ciro said, speaking as if he were a film mercenary.

"Better tell us why we should give you a chance," Thiago proposed, in a much more gentle tone.

"Sorry, what?"

"Don’t make me repeat myself. You don’t want me wasting time with words."

God, you imagined your boyfriend’s scared face. You had convinced him that there was nothing to worry about, but now you doubted your own words. Gavi didn’t take long to talk, and when he did, he spoke very seriously and fearlessly.

"I love your big sister and want to make her happy every day of my life. I know she deserves the best and probably deserves a better guy than me— I was lucky that she decided to be my girlfriend. I don't imagine a life without her, she is my happiness and my everything. I want to give her everything."

There was silence, until Thiago spoke. "We’ll give you a chance, if you do something we don’t like we won’t hesitate to make your life miserable."

"Believe it, we’ll make your life miserable and you won’t like it." added Ciro.

"I understand, I promise I won't do anything if you decide to make my life miserable. I love your sister and I accept the consequences of my actions."

Gosh, Pablo was also a little dramatic. Between your brothers acting like mercenaries and Pablo being a Romeo, the whole scene made you laugh. Your heart melted too, his declaration of love was really cute.

"Okay, so we have a deal. Now you have to convince her to let us eat ice cream before bed." Ciro blackmailed Gavi and you had a hard time not laughing.

"Está bien, I’ll help you."

You waited until they finished their talk and you went back to them. You sat back at the table, while you watched them finish playing Uno. When the boys went to get something in their rooms, you took the time to talk to your boyfriend.

"Please... never leave me with them again. They’re really scary."

You smiled at him and whispered, "I forgot to tell you, my dad is an ordinary human being, but my brothers… they are devils."

Gavi left a kiss on your lips before your brothers came back and probably forced you to separate.

"You should let them eat ice cream, by the way." He told you in a whisper, still afraid of the kids.

[catboyfics]

Ghost of a Memory [part I]

I have finished part 1! This is more of an introductory chapter, and is much shorter than the others will be. Once I have part 2 finished, it will be posted. I will keep the same taglist, unless you ask me to remove you. I will also add people onto the taglist for the next part, just leave a comment :>

𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

𝑭𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑶𝑴: COD

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮: Ghost x m!reader

𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑹𝑬 & 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: hurt/comfort; male reader; violence, guns, death (not in this part), allusions to torture,

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑺: 1.7k

You could feel the quick rotations of the helicopter blades as you flew over the English countryside, bringing you to your new base. You were hardly expecting to stay long, you had a poor track record with that ever since you had become a soldier. Few places but the SAS would willingly take you because of your aggressive and destructive fighting style. Really, it was a miracle you were still a part of the army, and had even managed to stay in the special forces.

You’d used to be a part of the SRR – they did all of the reconnaissance and it was work that fit you well – but you ended up being transferred to the SAS after ‘The Incident’, at your request. Regaining your footing after all that had happened was… difficult, but you managed. You always managed.

You had been transferred to 19 Troop, specializing in mountain operations. You were usually away, helping international troops with their own missions. You spent a good amount of your time in Russia and Canada, before you were abruptly called back at the end of your mission. As soon as the helicopter had touched back down on the ground, you were sent to your Captain’s office. You knew your captain quite well as you saw him quite often.

“(l/n).” He called out seriously, looking at you with disappointment. You were a bit worried for a moment. Was this finally the point that the Special Forces would boot you out? You snapped out of your thoughts when he spoke again. “An international task force has heard about your skills and is looking to recruit you.”

That was… surprising. Your captain could clearly tell, because he took one look at you and spoke again. “I’ll give you until after dinner to think about it. It’s relatively urgent.”

You nodded strictly, saluting to him before turning and leaving the room. It wasn’t the first time you had been invited to join an international force, but they very rarely kept you around. Said you were too much of a liability. You wondered if it was even worth the effort. You were happy enough with what you were doing in 19 Troop, and the SAS was good to you. Then again, there wasn’t really anywhere to go from there if you wanted to stay on the field. You could become an officer, but that would defeat the point of you joining the SAS.

You didn’t want to think about it too hard, though. You did still have until dinner, and you wanted to make good use of that time. Your exit from Canada had been abrupt and disruptive. You weren’t exactly in the middle of an operation with the crew, but you were starting to plan for one. You had been a vital part of their plans, and you felt guilty for leaving them with an empty space. You hoped what you had trained them would help them through it, though you knew the Canadian Special Forces would be able to manage.

You took your time sorting through the belongings you had brought back, taking care to choose what you really needed to keep. You had spent more time with the Canadian soldiers than you thought you would, and they made a good impression on you. As much as you hated to admit it, you would miss them. You weren’t one for sentimentality, though, not after what had happened what seemed like so long ago.

You were snapped out of your memories when you felt the helicopter starting to descend. This was it, then. You mentally steeled yourself to meet your new team, a team you would only end up leaving after they remove you.

It was still a bit of a wait after the helicopter started its descent and eventually landed, though, and you had some time to yourself. You hated when that happened. It always led to thoughts about what happened that night. That night, you had seen unforgivable horrors. Atrocities, carnal sin. It made you want to purge the world of that evil yourself.

You ripped yourself from your thoughts, tearing a hole in the horrible memories before you were consumed entirely by them. It was a fight to get yourself back into service after what happened. Lucky you were a good actor.

You forced yourself to think of the only thing that could distract you from your memories: something worse. The force you were joining was infamous, though very little information was released about it. Task Force 141. You felt sweat gather in your palms as the helicopter approached their main base. You didn’t think you were particularly special yourself, and you wondered why you had been picked to join some of the best special OPs in the world. Apparently there was another SAS operative, maybe you'd be able to get along with him.

You sucked in a breath as the helicopter landed on the soft pad, grabbing the duffel bag you’d brought with you and standing up from the seat. It wasn’t a very comfortable seat, and your legs rejoiced to finally get up after the two-something-hours that you’d been sitting down.

The doors on the sides of the helicopter opened and you let yourself fall out, comfortably landing on your feet. You’d gotten very used to getting out of the helicopters easily, and the motion had become very slick. You still carried yourself like an SRR operative, despite your transfer. It was a habit you’d never broken.

As you walked towards the large concrete building, you saw a man standing there. You figured he was the captain of the task force. If you remembered correctly, he was called Captain Price. You switched your trajectory to him, walking with firm steps as you breezed through the air.

As you approached him, you stopped stiffly and saluted. In a loud voice, you announced “Sergeant (l/n), sir!”

You heard the man chuckle, and you almost felt self conscious until he spoke casually. “At ease, soldier. I’m Captain Price, I’m the captain of Task Force 141.” He announced, speaking in a calm voice. “I’m the one who requested you be transferred here. Thank you for coming.”

You nodded, letting your hand fall from its position at your forehead. You looked around, expecting to see some of your superior officers and other soldiers, but there was no one there. You frowned, wondering why, and the captain seemed to pick up on your confusion.

“I wanted to go over a few of the things in your file. Privately.” He said firmly, looking you in the eye before smiling gently. Those words sent chills down your spine. You didn’t want to have to act more, but it seemed you would have no choice, so you just nodded agreeably as he turned around and started to walk to the building beside you.

You made your way through the twisting halls of the base, looking at the room numbers, though they didn’t suggest much. You had passed by a few busy gyms, and a canteen. It seemed surprisingly busy for a task force. Busier than you were used to. You weren’t a huge fan of working in large teams. 

You were eventually brought to a large meeting room with a table and a plethora of empty chairs. At one end of the table, there was a large screen.  You took a seat, having another look around the room but finding nothing of note. Finally, the captain spoke up. You had been preparing for this.

“So, soldier, I want to make sure that you’re the right fit for this team. I don’t want any disasters happening because of your trauma.” He said sternly, getting straight into it. At least he didn’t bother with small talk.

“You don’t need to worry about that.” You said coldly, looking him in the eye as you answered. “I’ve already had a psychological evaluation done by a psychiatrist, and she said I was fine to go back out in the field.”

Price shot back almost immediately, like he had dealt with others like you. Maybe this team wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.

“That doesn’t mean you’re fine to go back out into this field. I’m sure you’ve been briefed on what Task Force 141 covers.”

“I have, and it’s nothing I’ve not done before.” You explained coldly, going back through the motions. It had been a while since you had to put on this act. Before Price could get another word in, you spoke up.

“Trust me, Captain. A little bit of torture isn’t gonna do much to an agent of the SRR. I’ve been trained for much worse.”

The man looked like he wanted to fight back, say something to make you break, but you were completely right. SRR operatives had the most interrogation training out of all the other corps in the British Armed Forces.

“Alright. If you say so. If you’re struggling, though, there’s another guy who’s been through the same thing as you. He can help you.” The man said, though you couldn’t tell if it was more for his own peace of mind or yours. You only scoffed.

“I’ll be sure to stay away from him, then.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes when the captain looked at you with confusion. “People who have been through that aren’t usually very fun to be around. And anyways, no one can help me except for the Rileys, and they’re all dead.”

That shocked Price. He knew Simon Riley was famous as a cold blooded murderer, but as someone who offered help? He almost wanted to say you were too far gone then and there, but there was an edge to your voice he’d rarely seen before.

You didn’t want to stay much longer. The room was plain and the conversation brought up bad memories. You were great at hiding things, but not so much hiding from things. That’s why, instead of hiding from your past, you were hunting its ghosts. Hunting for the last traces of that damned Riley family. Hunting for salvation.

Salvation came at a great price. A price that had already been long since paid.

@imasimpsowhat06

Here is Part II

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[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Daryl was pacing endlessly just down the hall from the heavy oak door that you were on the other side of. This “leader” of Hilltop, Gregory, had requested you specifically to speak to about brokering some sort of trade deal. Daryl didn’t like it. He could read what was on Gregory’s mind when he looked at you or Maggie. It had a rolling boil cooking away in his chest and he was wondering if his face was red from the turbulent heat he seemed to be generating. Finally, the door opened and you stepped out. Daryl could see immediately that you were uncomfortable or pissed or... most likely, both.

“Hey,” he greeted you urgently. “Ya okay? What happened?” His brow was heavy over his eyes, casting the blue of the irises into shadow, deepening their color.

You rolled your eyes. “I can’t do this. Maggie is going to have to talk to him. If I stayed in there a minute longer, I was going to punch him across the face. Guy was giving me the fucking creeps and he seems to have the moral compass of pond scum.”

“Did he do somethin’? The hell did he say to ya?” 

You looked up at Daryl’s expression again, surprised by the fire in his voice. 

“Seriously, do I need to go in there and rearrange his fuckin’ face? I had a bad feelin’ ‘bout that guy since he asked us to fuckin’ wash up...” he drawled.

You hesitated, wondering if you should even tell him what had you so uncomfortable. He might kick in the door and beat the shit out of the guy from the look on his face. “He just was—he was more interested in hitting on me than talking about a deal and I don’t have the patience for it. Maggie will do better than me... though I feel bad sending her in there.”

“I’m gonna have a fuckin’ talk with this guy,” Daryl growled. He turned and started heading toward Gregory’s office with a scowl on his face that clearly suggested this wasn’t just going to be just a talk... 

“Daryl! Daryl—stop.” You grabbed his arm and he stopped in his tracks as if he’d hit a forcefield. “Just—it’s okay. It’s fine. Let’s just go get some air, okay?” He still hesitated, his hands clenched into fists. “Please?”

He caved at the pleading of your voice. “Fine,” he sighed heavily. “But if he does anythin’, if he says anymore shit to ya that makes ya uncomfortable—ya just come tell me, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

You gave him a fond half-smile despite the situation. “You’ll rearrange his face?”

“If I gotta...” “Come on,” you said, tilting your head toward the outside. Daryl followed you out into the sunshine and stayed close beside you as if to make sure Gregory couldn’t get another word in with you.

Prompt: “He seems to have the moral compass of pond scum.”

[cecilysass]

Shine On (11/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 11: The Snow

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 23, 2015 7:45 am

Jackson can’t seem to sit still. He’s pacing all around the kitchen in meandering circles. Scully has managed to piece together from his brief, cryptic answers to her questions that he now knows his thoughts aren’t completely private. The news apparently hasn’t been well received.

Scully sits at the table, her chin in her hand, watching him seriously. There’s something else going on here, too—something more—and she hasn’t pinned it down yet. For one, Mulder disappeared upstairs in a cloud of anxiety, something big clearly on his mind.

“Was Mulder … worried about something?” she attempts.

Jackson just lifts his shoulders in a jerky shrug. “Probably.” He doesn’t add more details.

“Are you all right?” Scully says after another pause.

He’s moving again, walking back and forth. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m okay. Just really freaked out.”

“Now—”

“Don’t say it,” Jackson cuts her off, pointing at her suddenly. “I know, I know. Now I know what it feels like to have my thoughts spied on. I’m a hypocrite for being upset about it, right?”

Scully says nothing right away, but fixes him with what she hopes is an open and honest gaze. “Is that what I am thinking, Jackson?”

“No,” he says, finally still. “You’re not.”

She nods slowly. “Right. Now. Did Mulder happen to make coffee?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says, turning slowly to regard the coffee maker. “And … I made scrambled eggs.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Jackson walks to the stove and lifts the lid off the pan. “They’re still warm. You want some?”

“Yes, I do.” Scully stands up to get out plates. “Let’s eat. Should we make toast?”

Just as they are loading bread in the ancient toaster oven, Mulder’s footsteps on the stairs cause them both to look up. Jackson takes a wary step back.

“You’re going for a run, Mulder?” Scully can’t hide her skepticism as she walks across the floor to speak to him. He’s dressed for exercise—sweatpants, a long-sleeve tee, his running shoes—but his grim expression tells another story.

“Yeah,” he says. He eyes Jackson for a moment, looking as if he wants to say something, then turns and walks to the house’s front window, the one that faces the porch. He peers out cautiously. “Sort of.”

“What’s going on?” she asks sharply, lowering her voice.

“He’s been keeping something from us,” Mulder says quietly, his eyes darting behind her to Jackson in the kitchen. They both know that keeping his voice down is pointless, but he does it anyway. “Something … important. I need to check around outside again.”

“I should come with you.”

“No,” he says quickly. “Stay here, Scully. I think I upset him, and I think you should … just stay here with him.”

Scully nods slowly, feeling a thrum of anxiety. For the umpteenth time since yesterday, she attempts to mute her feelings.

“Try not to worry,” Mulder says, flashing her a small smile. “Hopefully this isn't a big deal. Go have breakfast.”

“Be careful,” Scully whispers urgently. “Take the stiletto.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Of course.”

For a moment he looks like he might kiss her cheek—he seems to bend down just a little—but he doesn’t, biting his lower lip instead.

“I’ll save you some coffee,” she says uncomfortably, a nod to a routine they had for years in what feels like another lifetime.

“Sure you will,” he says. “I won’t hold my breath. I know your caffeine habits.”

The words he’s speaking are playful, but he sounds distracted. He glances out the window again, and it scares her, the look of intense worry etched across his features. Her mind explodes into fearful questions—what is Jackson is keeping from them? why does it involve Mulder checking outside?—but she quiets these quickly.

“Hopefully no big deal, right?” she whispers.

“Right,” he says quickly. Another reassuring smile.

***

There are swirling eddies of snow flurries visible through the kitchen windows as Scully and Jackson eat their eggs and toast.

“Snow,” she remarks, her voice sounding small. “I wonder if it’s supposed to accumulate.”

Jackson’s eyes track the direction of her stare. “Yeah, it looks like it might.” He looks back at her, seeming to remember something. He takes a big forkful of eggs. “Happy birthday. Today’s your actual birthday, right?”

“Yes,” she says. She takes a bite, too, trying not to watch him too closely.

“You’re… 51?”

She nods, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin.

“So you were 37 when you had me?”

Again she nods, studying his reaction.

“Did you want to have kids?”

She hesitates only a second. “Very, very much.”

When he looks up at her, she knows he is using his shine on her, testing out the veracity of her claim. She can practically feel it.

“I was thinking about it,” Jackson says, shoving another bite in his mouth. “I think I might understand why my shine is so much stronger with you than with anyone else. Or at least I have a guess.”

Scully scowls and sips her coffee. “Oh? What’s your guess?”

“You’re a doctor, right?” Jackson says. “So you know that in mammals, there’s an evolutionary advantage to maternal-infant bonding.”

Her eyes widen at his language choice. Her chin goes up and down wordlessly.

“And that baby mammals learn to recognize their mom’s smell and sound, and learn how to, like, be in tune with her behavior so that they have a better chance of survival.”

She sets her cup down, slightly stunned.

“So if you think about my shine being one of my senses, like smelling or hearing, it’s logical that when I was an infant, still living with you, it developed to be… in sync with you. So I could know what you were thinking and feeling. And maybe once it developed in my brain or whatever, it stayed wired that way, even after all these years. It’s biology, right?”

“I had wondered… something along those lines myself,” Scully says, keeping her voice steady. “You’re very knowledgeable about biology.”

“I read a lot of articles,” Jackson says modestly.

Articles about what, Scully wonders? About maternal-neonate bonding? Is he worried about what he has missed out on by being adopted?

“Maybe a little,” Jackson says, looking down, and it takes her a moment to realize he is answering the question she was thinking. He then meets her eyes, and there is something unguarded there that reminds her of Mulder when she met him, Mulder the youngest she ever knew him, Mulder in Bellefleur, telling her his story. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she says. “Anything.”

“Why’d you do it? Why did you decide to give me up?” He looks so earnest, so sincerely curious and vaguely hurt that it makes Scully want to weep. “I can feel how much you didn’t want to. How sad it made you. And when you did it, I wasn’t brand-new either, was I? I lived with you a while. You knew me. You have all these memories of me. And you were still with Mulder, weren’t you? It just seems like… I don’t know. I guess I don’t understand.”

“You really can’t see any reason why? Or… feel why?” she whispers.

“Not really,” he says. “It’s confusing to make sense of everything that goes on inside of you when you think about this.”

“Yes. I imagine.” She rises from her seat to pick up the coffee carafe, refilling her cup carefully. She uses the opportunity to take a deep breath, too. “I thought they would take you,” she continues, her voice eerily calm. “I was on my own. Mulder was gone.” She sits down again, clutching her cup tightly with both hands. “And I was just … absolutely terrified that I couldn’t protect you. Someone had already tried to take you once. I was so scared.” Her eyes fall to her coffee. “The adoption agency told me they’d find someone normal, loving, and far away. That you would be able to live a happy life.”

“A closed adoption,” Jackson says, and his jaw muscle twitches, just like Mulder’s does—which tells her that this is the most painful part. That this concealing of her identity is something that has upset him, stung him.

“It had to be,” she says. “Or I would still be a danger to you. To your new family.” Her voice breaks. “But apparently Mulder and I were a danger to you and your family anyway. I’m so sorry about that, Jackson. So sorry. I tried to keep you safe. I tried … so hard. By far the hardest thing I have ever…” She’s crying, and she can’t do anything to stop it.

Jackson watches her tears, looking perplexed. “I know,” he says. He tips his head, as if trying to see her better. “It isn’t your fault. I don’t really think they came after my parents because of you and Mulder. Probably it didn’t matter … whose kid I was in the end. It was me. It was just the fact that I existed at all.”

Scully sniffs, nodding, trying to take charge of her feelings again.

“I never wanted my children to be in danger just by the fact that they existed,” she manages. “I wanted you safe. I wanted your life to be normal.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t say my life was exactly normal,” he says, lifting his eyebrows. “It was never going to be normal.”

“As close as possible to normal then.”

“Yeah.” He nods thoughtfully. “I guess that’s what it was.”

There is a pause. Jackson taps the rim of his plate lightly with his finger.

“So there’s another one?” he asks.

“Another what?”

“You said you didn’t want your children to be in danger for the fact they existed,” Jackson says. “Not your child. You said children, like, more than one. Like plural.”

“Oh,” she says. She hadn’t realized this slip. “Yes. There was another child.” She pushes the remains of eggs around on her plate with her fork. “Once. She died long ago, before you were born.”

“I’m sorry,” Jackson says. He seems to be seriously thinking that over.

“I’ll tell you about her some time,” Scully says. “It’s not an entirely happy story, but I’ll tell you if you want.” She sets her fork down and steels herself to look at him. “The thing is, Jackson, is that I have lots I probably should tell you. And lots I could tell you, if you want to know. I’d like to do that. I’d like to … be part of your life, if you want. However that might look.”

Jackson’s eyes drift over to the window, which is busy white static. “Yeah,” he says softly, inscrutably.

“I think that’s something Mulder wants, too.”

“Yeah,” he repeats in the same tone. “He… actually wants me to live here with him and run track for the local high school. He’s thought about it. Going on runs with me and stuff.”

“Is that right?” The idea makes Scully smile. It’s just so Mulder. Not the Mulder of eighteen months ago, who was trapped in inertia, lying on a couch in frightening, stagnant darkness. But apparently the Mulder of now, who was ready to daydream about going on runs with his teen son.

“Well, he did daydream about that,” Jackson says, apparently shining her. His tone changes. “He might not be into that idea any more. We had a disagreement. He might feel different.”

Scully shakes her head in disbelief. She has no idea how to explain to Jackson how badly he has misunderstood Mulder. What are the words that could communicate this to a 13-year old, she wonders?

But then, she realizes, she doesn’t have to use words. Not with Jackson.

She closes her eyes and concentrates on a memory—a sequence of memories, really—from years ago.

Summer, just a few weeks after they first went on the run. A decrepit motel in rural Alabama. Waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of the shower running, the faintest undertone of Mulder’s sobs. Steam hitting her face as she drew back the curtain and stretched her arms out for him. My fault, Scully. You know I never really can protect anyone I love. You should get far away from me.

Jackson’s face twitches as he takes her memory in. “He was upset about me?”

“He was grieving.” She remembers how the water soaked her pajamas as she held his sobbing body, as she joined him in tears. “He hardly got a chance to be your father, and he didn’t get to say goodbye.” She clears her throat. “I don’t think he would ever stop being happy to get to spend time with you now, Jackson.”

Jackson looks down at his plate, quiet for a moment. “Why do you think Mulder can use his shine on me?”

“I don’t know,” Scully says. “My best guess is… he probably had a latent ability already, from what happened to him years ago. Maybe you somehow wake it up because of your own abilities. Maybe he’s been using it, subconsciously, to try to reach you.” She’s suddenly sad, thinking about it. “Maybe … he’s been doing it all along. For years. Without knowing.”

“And this is the first time he’s been close enough to me for it to work,” Jackson adds softly.

He stands up from the table, walking over to the window to look out at the falling snow. Scully’s eyes land on the back of his head, studying the familiar shape of his crown of brown hair. She imagines how much he will look like Mulder when he is fully grown.

“Your other child,” Jackson says in a voice of curiosity and wonder, pressing his palm on the window. “What was her name?”

***

It starts to snow almost immediately after Mulder steps outside. He puts up a pretense of going for a jog up and down Wallace Road, all the time actively scanning the horizon. No cars. No signs of anyone else out and about. Just gray sky and fluttering snowflakes.

He gives up on his fake run after about fifteen minutes and decides to come back and search the property again. It’s cold, and he’s underdressed, but he is also feeling a deep, primal pull: a compulsion to protect that he hasn’t felt in years.

The trouble is that he doesn’t quite know what this feeling means. Maybe it’s some phantom father instinct long buried in his psyche, juiced up by a painful history of losing sisters and sons.

Or maybe it’s … something else. This shine he apparently still has. Telling him to do something important for real reasons.

Regardless, something is telling him to stay out here in the snow—to keep looking.

The wind picks up, sending snowflakes spinning manically around him, an icy cyclone. Mulder spins himself around, too, looking everywhere he can see for any sign of something out of the ordinary.

His eyes land on a little cluster of trees about a hundred feet from the house. He has a sudden compulsion to go peek inside.

It’s so quiet out. Almost unnaturally so.

Snowflakes continue to whirl, winding and fluttering in a steady helix around his path. The morning light is pale and eerie. Mulder has the strange feeling he’s in a fairy tale. Like all the many snow creatures of myths and legends he has ever read about could be perched right behind any tree.

He thinks fleetingly of the Ijiraq, an Inuit shapeshifter who, according to the stories, lives in the snow and steals children. A person never actually lays eyes directly on an Ijiraq. He’s only supposed to appear in the very corner of one’s line of sight.

A nightmare, there in an instant, who takes a beloved child away forever.

On impulse Mulder turns around to look back at the house. Snow is already beginning to accumulate on the roof in stark, white veins.

Shivering a little, he turns back and walks up to the tight clutch of trees. Snowflakes have begun to melt in his hair. He’s going to be uncomfortably damp and cold.

He steps into the dark and dim cover of the overhanging branches. To his surprise, he sees a small hooded female figure standing alone there, facing away from him.

When she turns, his heart stops.

“Scully?” he whispers.

Because she is Scully.

Not Scully now, not the fiftysomething Scully inside the house he knows and loves, the Scully who has been at his side for years.

She’s Scully as he first met her: fresh faced and freckled and unblemished, the Scully who extended her hand in the basement of the Hoover building, the earnest and serious new partner who wanted to prove herself.

She is, impossibly, Scully in her twenties, standing before him in a dark wood, surrounded by a few errant snowflakes falling unhurriedly over her from the tree cover above.

Maybe this is a fairy tale. Maybe I have been bewitched.

“No. That’s not who I am.” Her voice sounds exactly like Scully of the past, too. High and precise, clear and authoritative. I’ve been assigned to work with you.

But as she steps forward, the light hitting her features more directly, he can see that what she says is correct. She’s not Scully. Just someone who looks incredibly, unbelievably like her, dressed in a sleek black coat.

“Who are you?” he demands.

Even as he speaks, he begins to realize, to remember. And as he does, he sees that this is no fairy tale at all.

“My name is Rose.”

“Rose.” He steps towards her, his legs beginning to shake.

“Yes.”

“Rose ... isn’t your real name,” he says. He’s having trouble getting words out, but his mind is racing. “I saw the song lyrics Jackson had—”

“Yes,” she says. “You’re right. But that name you’re remembering—that’s not my name anymore.”

There was no body in the coffin.

He should have thought more about it at the time. He always should have considered the possibility. Why didn’t he, even once, all these years? He had only seen the body’s disappearance as a final insult to Scully’s grief, a cruel denial of any answers or closure, but he had never asked or thought further about implications.

“How…” Mulder feels light-headed. He hasn’t had breakfast, which probably was a mistake. He doesn’t know what to start asking questions about first. He looks up, as if searching for the words around him in the trees arching above him.

“You know what it is that I am?” Rose takes a careful step away from him, looking up at the top of the maple tree. “That I’m not… entirely human?”

“Yeah.” His mouth is dry. “I think I do.”

“You knew all along, didn’t you?” She throws a look back at him, alert and curious. “Even when we met before, when she attempted the adoption—you knew what I was.”

“I had an idea,” he says, “but …we never entirely knew what was going on back then.”

“You would have let her adopt me anyway?”

Mulder can’t help a melancholy smile. “Nothing could have stopped her,” he says. “But yes. Of course. It wasn’t your fault.”

She nods, absorbing this. Then she turns to him with her incisive, Scully-like stare. “From your work, you must know I wasn’t the only one. That I wasn’t the only product of the hybrid experiments,” she says.

“Yeah,” Mulder says. He watches a single snowflake flutter downwards and lets it land on his palm, watching it melt into a speck of water. “We knew that. About other hybrids. But we also thought the hybrid program was eliminated. After the Syndicate was eliminated, in 2000 or so.”

“No. There were still some of us left,” she says. “Hybrids of different ages and purposes. Not as many as there used to be—we were reduced in number. But when I was still a kid, a group decided to band together. To form a collective for safety. There were about fifty of us left then. Mostly those you called the Kurt Crawfords, although they don’t go by that name any more either.” She picks up an icy-veined dead leaf and studies it. “There were other kids, like me. Some products of experiments like I was. Some agricultural clones.”

Mulder feels like he needs to lean against something, like the world is spinning too fast.

“They called our group the Walled Garden. At first the purpose was to take care of one another, protect ourselves. Protect those of us who were younger. We had a group of safe houses. But we’re very smart, you know. We have… gifts, some of us more than others. We were able to make investments. Buy a large amount of land in Maryland. Build laboratories. Work on projects of interest to society.”

“What kind of … projects?”

“Stopping an invasion, for one,” Rose says evenly. “We did that rather successfully. And without any violence or undue attention. Even attention from you, Agent Mulder, and you were waiting for it.”

Mulder’s mouth opens and closes in shock. “You stopped the invasion in 2012? How?”

“I’m loyal … to the Walled Garden,” Rose says, looking away. “I’m not going to share all our secrets.”

“Okay. Okay. Why are you sharing this information at all?”

“There is always disagreement about how much more we should do,” Rose replies carefully. “There are some of us who would prefer we remain scientists and engineers. There are others who would like to see us… in more powerful positions in society. They say we deserve it, because of our natural gifts and strengths.” Her mouth twists. “Some in the latter group felt like we should be protecting ourselves better, taking care of loose ends left over from the Syndicate. Jackson’s name came up as one loose end. Because, see, he’s not one of us, but he … has some of our gifts. That’s perceived as a threat.”

“So you were sent to Wyoming to stop him?” Mulder’s voice is sharp. “To kill his parents?”

Rose’s face falls, and she looks so much younger. “No.” Her big eyes are limpid and haunted, exactly like Scully’s. “No. You’re misunderstanding me. Someone was sent for that job, but not me. I went on my own—to protect him. To bring him to you. Because I knew you and Dana would take care of him.”

Suddenly Mulder remembers so clearly what she was like when he last saw her, how small and vulnerable she was, how utterly alone.

And he remembers viscerally how much Scully wanted her. How he and Scully would have taken care of her. He is flooded with a sickening sorrow, thinking about what the little girl’s life must have been like after that. After they were fooled into giving up on her.

Emily, can’t you see? There’s nothing you can do. There’s loving everywhere, but none for you.

“Most of the other hybrids,” Rose says, her voice cracking slightly, “don’t have living family. They never really did, or their mothers died. They don’t understand. But I’ve always known that I had Dana. I have always watched out for her. And for Jackson, once he was born.”

“You must have still been really young when he was born,” Mulder observes.

“I knew when he was born,” she says. “I just did. And even when I was little, I knew I could keep him safe. And when I got older, and you and Dana didn’t know where he was? I knew. I always knew.”

Mulder feels tears pool in his eyes. “Please,” he says. “Please, I beg you, Rose. Please stay here and let me go get Scully. Please let her talk to you.”

Rose digs her hands in her coat pockets, turning abruptly away.

“We thought you were dead,” he says simply. “You don’t know how the loss was for her, back then. She was … never exactly the same after that. Please let me get her. Let her see you.”

“You know, Agent Mulder,” she says, “if I were really unselfish, if I really cared about Dana or Jackson, I wouldn’t ever be in contact with any of you. Every time I do it’s a danger to everyone.”

“Why?” Mulder pushes. “Are you being watched?” He takes a cautious step towards her. “I could get her right now, and we could talk right here under the trees out of sight. It would take only a few minutes.”

“No,” Rose says, turning back to meet his eyes. There is something in her tone that stops him from arguing further. “No.”

He glances over his shoulder towards the house, his heart sinking, thinking of Scully so close inside. He thinks of her drained, gray face on the flight back from California all those years ago. The way she sat in the airplane seat with her palms subtly facing upwards, like something had just been taken from her hands.

“Maybe we can talk again,” Rose adds. Her softened, moved expression makes him wonder if she is using a shine on him, too. “There may be a way for us to meet safely. All of us. Just let me… think about it, Agent Mulder. All right?”

“Of course. You promise?”

“I do.”

“You keep calling me Agent Mulder,” Mulder says. “You do know that that isn’t my name any more either.”

“But it will be again,” Rose says. “I hear that you and Dana will be back with the F.B.I. very soon.”

He scrunches up his forehead. “How did you hear that?”

She doesn’t answer the question. Instead, she smiles a closed lip smile that looks incredibly, unsettlingly like Scully.

“You probably would have been a really good father, you know,” she says. Her voice sounds quiet and high, like a whisper. Her cheeks are pink in the cold. “You seem like it.”

“Thanks, but I don’t know about that,” Mulder says ruefully. “I’ll try to do right by him now, but I really don’t know how good I would have been at raising him. I make a lot of mistakes in every important relationship in my life.”

“I didn’t … I actually wasn’t thinking about Jackson in this case.”

“Oh.” Again he is overwhelmed by a wash of sadness. “Well.” He shivers involuntarily. “I would have done my best, Rose. We both would have.” It sounds so futile, all these empty words about time now gone, he thinks. “I wish we could have tried.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” she says matter-of-factly, lifting her shoulder in a shrug. “There’s nothing we can do now.”

And that makes Mulder think what he has always thought when faced with that notion. When a sister or partner has disappeared. When he has lost his life’s work. When a woman he loves has been infected with a virus and spirited away to Antarctica.

There is always something you can do. There is always something else to be done.

Which is what makes Mulder begin to believe he might finally, actually be starting to get better.

***

[lorre-verie]

₊˚ʚ ᗢ. ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ ᴏʀ ᴅᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴛ. ꜰɪᴠᴇ ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

aka, my favourite chapter (may Eywa bless these two pour souls)

the unfortunate pair: ao’nung x fem! sully! reader

chapter summary: going on your first date with a pompous ass-frog! aren’t you excited? absolutely nothing wrong could happen today. 

warnings: sudden thoughts of death (giving barbie), two idiots realising they’re in love

word count: 2.9k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | masterlist

You screwed up big time.

“Did you take drugs or something?” Kiri looked at you incredulously as you sat there sheepishly on the hammock of the marui, echoing your thoughts and putting them out for the world to hear.

You paused before answering, “No, but thank you." to which Kiri rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. 

It was the day after the sleepover, which meant…your date was today. It was seriously happening. You chose to confide in your one and only sister (that wouldn’t tattletale to your parents) about the events that conspired while you and Ao’nung were out of the tent last night.

“You kissed Ao’nung? Seriously? Him?” Kiri bent her body forwards, as if expecting you to tell her she heard wrong. “You must’ve hit your head.”

“...I don’t feel very comfortable right now, guys.” Norm half-whispered from right beside you with tweezers in his hands, about to take your DNA for processing in the lab.

“It’s all good Norm, just, keep on doing your thing- OW! Shit! What was that??” you jumped, feeling a sharp stab on your finger.

“What? You told me to do my thing.” Norm shrugged, placing a vial of your blood into a neat tray by his feet. 

“I thought you were going to take hair, or something, with the tweezers???”

Apparently, Norm and Max were trying out remedies using the flora of Pandora. They suspected that if there was going to be a cure for anything, it would have to come from the Great Mother herself. 

“Anyways, Norm, buddy,” Kiri smiled a little too widely, making him slow his movements. “We appreciate you keeping our little talk a secret.”

“Little talk? You mean..all that about…” he lowered his voice to a hushed tone, “the kiss?”

You both nodded at the same time. 

“Mhm, I really appreciate you not telling our parents anything about that,” you smiled, tilting your head to the side. It was a perfectly genuine smile, but your tone? His lips were sealed.

“Attaboy!” Tonowari slapped Ao’nung on the back harshly, making him choke on his food. 

Tsireya had spilled the beans to their parents about Ao’nung’s date with you that was happening within the next hour, despite his insistence to keep her mouth shut. 

Luckily for Ao’nung, Ronal wasn’t present, as she had more pressing matters to attend to. 

“But remember, I do not permit you kissing her on the first date. It’s much too early for that, son.” Tonowari said while preoccupied with his food, unnoticing how Ao’nung nearly spewed his drink all over the floor at his words. 

Tsireya narrowed her eyes at her brother’s reaction, slapping her hand over her now agape mouth as she realised what was going on. 

Slowly, she looked up at Ao’nung, who was looking back at his little sister with an equally horrified expression. 

“I..have something urgent I need to take care of, please excuse me-” she stood up, scurrying away and out of the marui, turning into a full sprint into the direction of the Sully’s marui.

“Sorry dad, I also have something to do- which I completely forgot about, but as long as I get to it now I’ll be fine, so sorry again dad have a great rest of your day!” Ao’nung quickly followed Tsireya in fear of what she was going to do and who she was going to tell, leaving their father in the marui alone.

He sighed and shook his head, taking their food and dumping it into his own bowl. 

“Kids these days..”

Ao’nung raced to the seashore, looking for any sign of his little sister gone rogue, feet kicking the sand wildly into the air. In the far distance of the sea, he only saw various other metkayina going on about their day, and Neteyam and Lo’ak on their ilus. 

They were talking to someone who wasn’t on an ilu, it seemed. 

His heart skipped a beat as he wondered if it was you, and he craned his head upwards, shielding his eyes from the light to take a look at the na’vi submerged in the water. 

Curly hair….definitely a girl…teal skin???

Hold on. 

That wasn’t you, that was Tsireya. 

He was about to go swim towards them, taking a few steps into the warm water. 

…But that was before he saw Neteyam racing towards the shore on his ilu, eyes wide but he was scowling like Ao’nung had just cut all his hair off.

If looks could kill, Ao’nung would’ve dropped dead at that moment, and there would be none of him left to mourn. 

Now, he was sprinting as fast as he could in the opposite direction, Neteyam and Lo’ak hot on his tail. 

“I’M GOING TO INVERT YOUR RIBCAGE!” were the last words Ao’nung heard before his world went black. (jk he’s fine) 

“Hey ugly frogboy!” you smirked, waving the frogboy in question over to the rock you sat on. 

You watched as he swam through the surface of the water, rolling his eyes to signify his clear irritation. You couldn’t help but look at the small droplets of water still retained in his curls from being in the water all day. Then your mind slowly turned to focus on his…everything. 

Then it wandered off into entirely different places, like how humans covered themselves up entirely with cloth. Why did they do that? Perhaps it was a thing of religion. But did they not feel hot during the summers they talked about so much in the novels you read?

“You are aware I don’t know what that word means, right?” he said gruffly, hoisting himself onto the rock, water pooling by his feet with each step he took towards you. 

You were half expecting him to sit down next to you, but of course he wouldn’t. His pride was too great for that. His shadow was cast over you, protecting you from the shining daylight that was making your face flush. 

“Yeah, I just don’t really care,” you pushed yourself up, not willing to have him look down on you any longer. It didn’t really help though, as you still had to look up at him because of the painful height difference. 

But this time was different. Instead of his looking down on you like you were the bane of his existence, eyes squinting and lips pushed up into a scowl, he let his head hang down low to meet the angle of yours. He usually looked up and past you, acting as if you weren’t there. 

But this time, this time his irises were fixed on yours, combined with a smile you never usually saw on his face before made your stomach pit. It wasn’t in a bad way, though. 

Why was he looking at you like that? What’s up with that smile? Why is his body language so..open, now? What changed? You weren't sentimental, but there was something about the way he looked at you that made a spongy tenderness push down on your chest, knocking the air out of it. 

No.

You didn’t entirely understand it at the time, but that was the only word your mind came up with. You didn’t want this. You can’t get attached. He’s just here to help you complete your silly little bucket list before you die. Not another person to be sad about when you’re crying on your deathbed.

You ripped your eyes away from his, walking past him and into the cold ocean, getting ready to swim whenever. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he voiced out from behind you. Involuntarily, you froze. The bastard probably wasn’t aware of the shivers sent down your spine as he said those words, shivers which you desperately tried to ignore. 

Perhaps this whole date thing was a big mistake. You could’ve asked Rotxo out in front of everyone instead of him, couldn’t you? The horrified look on Ao’nung’s face would be equally as satisfying to see as the look on his face when you asked him, would it not? 

“You can’t be swimming anywhere. I won’t allow you to. We can’t have you passing out on me again like last time, princess.” 

The words spilled out of him like he’d said it to dozens of other girls in the past. 

Princess.

You turned around when he said that, eyes wide, staring straight at him, but he made no move. 

“I’m not weak.” 

He shrugged. “I know. But you wouldn’t want anything getting in the way of our lovely date that you so desperately begged me for, right?”

You deadpanned, turning your head back around and attempting to walk deeper into the water, ignoring the goosebumps spread throughout your body as the cold engulfed your thighs. Dammit, why’d it have to be windy? 

Your eyes rolled on their own out of pure reflex hearing him walk towards you, his footsteps emphasised by the sound of splashing water. 

“There’s nothing you can do to stop m–” 

His arms were wrapped around your abdomen, right below your chest. He bent down and laid his head sideways on the spot on your back between the shoulders, as if he were begging you not to leave. His body wasn’t pressing up against yours, rather a quite a bit of space was placed between you two.

(haha u thought i was gonna continue that scene? in ur dreams)

“So all you have to do is try and get three of those symbols in a row, and the first one to do that wins,” you gestured towards the grid you marked out in the sand, sitting cross legged in front of a confused Ao’nung.

“..Seems easy enough.” he squinted as he peered at the grid, no doubt in his mind he was wondering how sky people invented these sorts of games.

You drew your first circle.

Then he crossed out an X.

The pattern repeated, until you trapped him skillfully, leaving him no choice but to let you win.

“What the- How’d you do that?” he frowned, much to your pleasure.

“Well, a master tic-tac-toer doesn’t share their secrets!” you grinned, secretly uncertain how this buffoon was the next chief of the Metkayina. 

To you, this was child’s play. To him, it’s like he’d started learning new war tactics from a space alien (not entirely false).

“I demand a rematch!” he huffed, redrawing the grid on the sand with his finger.

“Fine, but don’t get all sulky when I keep winning.”

You’ve probably played tic-tac-toe like, 50 times in a row by now. It was getting boring, but the look on his face after you managed to win again and again and again was so worth it.

He groaned after he saw he’d been defeated for the umpteenth time, covering his face in absolute shame. “I’m a disappointment to my family.” he muttered between his hands.

“Pff–” you slapped your hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from plundering his ego further, but it was too late, he was now glaring at your expression. 

“I demand a rema–”

“Oh my goodness, just stop it!” you complained, but your playful smirk never left your face. “You lost like a hundred times, get over it! Why do you keep insisting on replaying even though you know you’re gonna keep losing?”

He shut his mouth, looking sideways downcast at the sand. Because I like seeing your smile whenever you win.

But over his dead body would he tell you that. Or admit to himself he just thought that.

Tell her something, anything! Just stop looking so depressed! She’s gonna think you’re lame! A sore loser! Shit, shit come up with something you stupid idiot!

You stared at him with your eyebrows furrowed. He was fidgeting with his fingers, still staring at that particular patch of sand. The gentle breeze was blowing to your left, towards the village, and you kind of considered taking him there to his mother’s tent in case they had treatment for the crisis he looked like he was having.

Had you not been staring at other things during the awkward moment of silence that fell over you two, you would’ve noticed the slight blush of purple tingeing the tips of his ears as he looked down at your fingers absentmindedly tracing over the sand.

How would your fingers feel tracing the stripes on his back?

Wait, what?

WHAT? 

No because that’s like the most embarrassing and weird and totally nasty thing he’s ever thought of. WHAT.

You- He- You both- what- WHAT-

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He took a deep breath in to steady himself, silently praying to Eywa so that you wouldn’t notice how purple he was in the face. 

He liked you.

He liked you a lot.

I mean, that was obvious. He kissed you. But like, kissing someone doesn’t mean you AUTOMATICALLY like them right. 

As he made up a million excuses for his behaviour inside his mind, you were having thoughts the total opposite to his.

You wondered how he’d react to the news of your death. 

Tsireya knew, Lo’ak told her while he was being all emo (rightfully though).

Ronal knew.

Tonowari was to know..maybe today? You didn’t bother about the details; whatever was to happen would happen.

But the problem is, you were having second thoughts about…this whole situation.

You got your date. That’s the only thing you wanted right?

Could this count as…manipulation???

Okay, it totally does. Kissing some guy and then taking him out on a date when your life is in great peril and not letting him know that your life is in great peril totally counts as manipulation.

Oh my god. What if he actually catches feelings for you??

Oh my god. What if YOU catch feelings for HIM??

You looked at him again as he stared deeply into nothing, his eyes looking past you. Or rather, perhaps they were looking at you before, but he looked away once you looked at him.

“...cute.” you whispered absent-mindedly.

“What?” he responded, making your eyes go half an inch wider.

“I said you look like a sack of shit.” 

“Oh.” he huffed, looking down at the sand.

You looked at him incredulously. What? No comeback? No insult? No ‘screw you’?

Suddenly, you felt something weigh down on your chest. 

Everything around you felt so much more real.

The millions of grains of sand beneath your legs, some caught in between your toes, and the crisp breeze blowing softly around your neck like a wisp. 

You, sitting here with him. 

The countdown on your life.

You clenched your right hand as you reached out your left, drawing a new tic-tac-toe board on the dry, soft particles of sand. 

As the two of you resumed playing, you struggled to actually accept the reality of it all. 

You were going to die. (if Norm and Max didn’t find a cure).

How would it feel?

How would your family do without you?

You were in some sort of state of denial before this moment. 

And now you had the unsuppressable urge you supposed your human ancestors did.

To forget.

As the morning light spilled into the marui of the olo’eyktan’s family, one boy in particular hadn’t been able to sleep peacefully.

His mind raced with the flashes of the memories of the date you two had, his face and ears shade of deep periwinkle.

He turned on his side to face the woven walls of his home, one hand clasped over the other as he laid deep in thought.

The look on your face when you two danced in tandem.

The creases of your smile when you played truth or dare.

The tenderness in your voice when you had conversations with your family.

You.

Forget a ‘crush’.

The man was, undeniably, irrevocably, undoubtedly, indubitably, 

in love with you.

And he struggled to figure out why.

“Brother! Get up!” Tsireya’s voice suddenly connected through his brain, causing him to fall off his hammock with a large thud.

“Eywa, recently you’ve been so much harder to wake up.” she sighed to herself, crossing her arms as she looked down at the amusing sight of her older brother on the floor.

To her surprise, he didn’t respond, instead slowly rising from the floor, subtly trying to hide the blush on his face from his sister (who can read him like a children’s book).

She gasped dramatically, causing him to take a few groggy steps back in fright. “You looooveee her, don’t you!” she teased, her eyes, usually big and sweet, now narrowed into those of a mischievous cat.

He looked at her in horror. HOW DID SHE KNOW. (bro the whole village knows atp its not like ur trying 2 hide it)

“You must be delusional.” he said after taking a few seconds to compose himself. He put on this air of.. “superiority.”

“There’s no way I’d like someone like her.” he sneered, trying to convince himself that you were super ugly and totally not his type and totally doesn’t make him kick his feet giggling silently in the middle of the night whenever he thinks about you and the banter you share.

She rolled her eyes, seeing straight through his…can you even call those ‘lies’? “Right…well she definitely likes you, you know. You should be more considerate,” her voice dropped into a soft whisper, “...with her situation.”

At that, he blinked away his morning sleepiness. “What? What situation?” he asked genuinely, looking into Tsireya’s now widened eyes.

She froze, realising what she just said. 

The marui was empty, just them two. In that moment, it felt like the winds stopped moving, everything remaining static except for the two siblings.

The slightly horrified look on her face made his heart drop.

He stepped towards her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Tsireya.”

“What situation?”

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | masterlist

omfg, feels so good to be back writing, idk why it took so long since my announcement probs just because things have been really busy in my life lately, but i hope u guys enjoy <3 sorry if the story seems a little disconnected, its just been a while since i’ve written this whole thing haha

as always, (i love writing this part), I appreciate you all so muchh, tysm for the support on the series both on this account and my wattpad account. Please stay tuned for the rest 💗

much loved, lorre.

Taglist: @eywas-heir @elegantkidfansoul @yeosxxx @whoreforpomegranates @fanboyluvr @thecrazyswamp @shkudss @stvrligghtt @ratchetprime211 @dearstell @littlecrisisworld @itssomeonereading @goodiesinthecloset21 @ilovejakesullysdick @larkkyoris @opalescentblog @lovedbychoi @plzfeedmebread @holysaladapricothero @arminsgfloll @lovekeeh @evans-bitch @seashelldom @quest-for-pluto @bananasplits-world @ken-zah @anxietydrogz @inluvwithneteyam @www-interludeshadow-com @anonmously-anonomous @ancientbeing10 @aonungmyaddiction @ahsatan785 @fangzy @writinganything @mistyheart @mushy-mushroom04 @aaonungslover @scentedstrawberryenemy

note: names in red are the ones i've added to the taglist but i couldn’t tag!

[max13l]

So, a Maxiel AU brainrot thing inspired by these specific versions of them from this and this, where Daniel is a rock singer who used to be very successful, but now he's 34 and his career has been dwindling. He's spiraling and can't write anything good anymore making his label desperate and having his long-time manager quit on him. His label decides to give him one more chance if he manages to put out an album by a specific deadline, and they also hire Max as Daniel's new manager who is tasked with getting him put together promising him a large amount of money in return. Oh, and Max needs the money badly because he is a struggling single dad.

Max is told Daniel has been struggling with drug use and that he sleeps around a lot and barely ever takes his job seriously anymore, so when Max meets him for the first time the last thing he expects is to instantly be crushing on him. I mean, Daniel is hot. His curls are messy and he looks like he hasn't shaved in months, but he's hot.

Daniel would realize Max is into him from the beginning because he's super bad at not being totally obvious about it. And, of course, he would be a bitch about it and try to use it to his advantage, being a massive tease and trying to get Max in trouble. Max tries his hardest to remain professional but his dick often betrays him, which Daniel loves to point out every single time. It never actually goes anywhere, but Max does take more cold showers than ever before.

For a while, Daniel would pretend he's only fucking with Max to get what he wants, but in reality, he's actually hardcore falling for him without even realizing it. And, suddenly he... starts having inspiration to write songs again?

They would get closer with time and banter a lot, with Max finding out Daniel likes country music and joking around that he should've just been a country singer, maybe he'd be less of a mess then.

Daniel also gets to meet Max's daughter, with Max being a single dad sometimes he doesn't have a choice but to ask to bring her along with him when he runs out of people to leave her with, much to his dismay as he would much rather do anything else, his daughter tending to not like new people much (and Daniel having maybe mentioned he doesn't like kids before). When she meets Daniel though, she ends up warming up to him much quicker than Max expects because she thinks he's funny. Daniel subconsciously fools around more and says ridiculous (kid-appropriate, mostly) stuff just to make her laugh. And getting to see Max being a dad is what makes Daniel realize he might really, really like him.

One time, something urgent comes up for Max and no one is available to look after his daughter, so he ends up having to leave her alone with Daniel. Daniel is pretty much scared shitless because he doesn't want to fuck up, but he has no clue what he's doing. Max reassures him it will be okay (as always Max makes Daniel braver) and this experience ends up being what ultimately shows Daniel just how much he actually wants to be with Max, and in a sense become a dad even though he's terrified. It also makes him want to get his shit together to show Max he could be a good dad too.

The first time Daniel looks after Max's daughter goes well enough somehow, so when something comes up again Daniel offers to help again. While they play, she falls and gets a little scratch on one of her knees and even though it's not actually a big deal and she gets over it quickly, Daniel totally freaks out. He calls Max the moment he sees a little blood, shaking and thinking he fucked everything up. Max thinks something serious happened so he rushes back only to find his daughter, with a barely noticeable knee scrape and a look of confusion on her face ("I just fell, why is he crying?"), trying to comfort a shaken up Daniel. Max puts her to bed and tells her everything is alright, before going to take care of Daniel. He ends up crying in Max's arms, telling him about his fears that he can't do anything right anymore and he only makes anything he touches worse, thinking he messed up real bad once again. Max soothes him by telling him how wonderful he is and that being scared isn't a bad thing, and that even trying to make the effort to change is already a show of Daniel's actual character. Max also tries to cheer him up by joking, "I asked you to take care of her but maybe I was wrong and she should be the one taking care of you." To which Daniel promises he will do better next time and Max reassures that he already did more than well enough.

When the next time actually comes around, Max finds Daniel asleep with his daughter in his arms and a bunch of papers filled with enough lyrics to fill an album next to them. His heart swells and he kisses both their foreheads before putting them all to bed. He also whispers to Daniel that he did so good and that he loves him.