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sleepingsun501 · 2 months

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Shared Experiences

(Part 1, Part 2 tbd)

Pairing: OFC Sellé x Fives x OMC Aergad

Summary: Fives takes the chance at a threesome and being shared.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (Minors DNI)

Warnings: Threesome F/M/M, smut, bisexuality, hand-job, established open relationship between OCs, dirty talk, praise.

Word Count: 3.2k

Ao3 link

A/N: MINORS GET OUT OF HERE!! Hello everybody, it's been a while since I wrote much of anything. Been working way too much for my own good with not enough time to be creative. This has been sitting in my wips forever, and there will be a Part 2 eventually. For now, I hope you enjoy Fives being the bi king he is!!

Shared Experiences

Fives was no stranger to what went on behind closed doors in the storage closets and refreshers of 79’s. More often than not, he was the one who would run off to a vacant space with a willing partner in tow, but tonight, he had been pulled into the darkness of a hallway by a gorgeous, feisty Twi’lek woman.

“Fucking hell, Sellé,” he moaned, gripping the plush of her hips as she nipped at his neck. With her bright reddish-orange skin under the singular overhead light, she was nearly luminous in the dim hall, but her gold eyes were dark with want.

Sellé trailed her lips across Fives’ neck and jaw as she pressed a hand against his codpiece, holding his back to the wall. Even beneath the plastoid, she could tell he was getting harder as he rutted into her palm and grinned down at her.

“Take me right here, soldier,” she whispered against his sweaty skin. “I don’t want to wait anymore. Watching you all night has been torture.”

Fives shifted down to scoop her up, his hands full of her perfect ass as he pushed her little black skirt up her hips. In just a few steps, he was pressing her against the back wall, trapping her in a cage of blue and white armor.

She gasped as he pressed a thigh between her legs. The plastoid ridge put the most exquisite pressure on her sensitive folds and clit as he traced his tongue over the black ring piercing in the center of her bottom lip, begging for entrance.

Before he could draw a breath, Sellé invaded first, licking into his mouth and capturing his lower lip in her sharp teeth to pull him closer. He let out a sultry growl at the slight pain, but ground his hardening cock against her belly, wishing she had unclipped his codpiece first.

“Come on, Fives…” she begged with a needy gasp, gyrating her hips as his armor rubbed against her rapidly dampening core.

He pulled a glove off, chuckling and nibbling at her ear cone playfully as he worked her black lace panties aside. His goatee scratched against the hot skin of her neck as he prodded her entrance, and the drag of her nails in his hair sent a shiver rocketing from the crown of his head to the base of his spine. Every little sound she made went straight to his cock, and he was eager to feel more of her wet heat on his fingers.

He explored her folds expertly as she hooked her leg around his hip, pulling him closer and proving her impatience. Fives had no problem fucking her right there if that was what she desired, but her breathy whimpers suddenly turned to a fit of giggles, causing him to pause.

“What’s so funny, baby? Did that tickle or something?” he asked, confused and pulling back to study her. He was no expert on Twi’lek anatomy, but he had never had much trouble pleasing a woman of any species before.

Sellé bit her kiss-swollen bottom lip, looking suddenly adorably shy and trying to hide her smirk as her seductive gaze flicked past him. “No, but… we seem to have caught my boyfriend’s attention.”

Fives’ eyes nearly bugged out of his skull, and his stomach felt as if it had dropped to the floor.

“Your what?!” he exclaimed, quickly setting her firmly on her feet and whirling around. Although he had never been truly picky about his partners, Fives was no homewrecker and detested the idea of cheating. “You didn’t tell me you were here with someone!”

From the lights pulsing brightly just beyond the entrance to the hallway, he could make out the shadow of a tall figure leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed.

The seconds seemed to drag by as the figure lazily pushed off the wall and drew closer with long, slow strides. He could tell it was not another clone from the way the man moved, but Fives felt the panic start to rise in his chest when he noticed a crown of small, spiked vestigial horns encircling the man’s head.

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. He’s a Zabrak.

Fives had two options: either he was going to have to very convincingly talk his way out of this predicament, or fight his way out. Even with his venerable skills as an ARC trooper, the last thing he wanted at the moment was a scrap with an angry man of a species known for their natural brute strength.

“Don’t stop just for me,” the man suddenly said with a low chuckle. “I like to watch her have fun.”

Fives’ wary eyes flicked between the two of them as the man stepped into the dim light. He was a bit taller than Fives, leaner with a gentle grace about him, and looked as though he had no intention of picking a fight. As if to prove it, the Zabrak smirked at them as he affectionately brushed Sellé’s high cheekbone with his knuckle.

“Oh, please,” she huffed, rolling her eyes and distractedly playing with the end of one of her lekku. “You like to do a lot more than that.”

“Wait a minute,” Fives said, holding up his hands and looking between the couple again. He needed more information. “You’re both okay with this?”

“Relax, Fives, Aergad isn’t going to hurt you,” she said reassuringly, placing a hand on his vambrace and nuzzling up to him. “I like being shared, too, you know. Would you be interested in something like that?”

Fives gave Aergad an inquisitive look, his forehead wrinkling in surprise, and the Zabrak nodded suggestively.

The prospect of sharing a female partner, with someone other than Jesse for a change, had piqued Fives’ interest intensely. Although he was not entirely sure of the dynamic that existed between Sellé and Aergad, he was not about to pass up an opportunity to have a woman screaming with pleasure if she wanted him. Taking a quick, steadying breath, he made up his mind.

“I-I… uh… I wasn’t expecting this,” Fives’ stammered, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as an involuntary grin spread across his face, “but y-yeah, I’m game.”

Nearly giddy with excitement, Sellé stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss Fives’ scruffy cheek and began pulling him back out of the hallway. Aergad wore a cocky smile as he clapped him on the shoulder good-naturedly as he passed, following on their heels.

The crammed cab ride to their apartment was thankfully short. If it had been any longer, Fives would have pushed up Sellé’s tight skirt again and had her cockwarm him because she would not quit wiggling in his lap. The warm, sugary vanilla scent of her skin was intoxicating, and he particularly enjoyed the way she would dig her nails into his neck every time he gave her ass a squeeze.

“Easy, Sel,” Aergad said, playfully admonishing her. “I doubt he wants to cum in his armor.”

“He’s right, sweetness. I’d prefer to cum in you,” Fives muttered, kissing the little black, diamond-patterned tattoo resting at the base of her throat. As she ground her hips down into his lap again and giggled her approval, he hazarded a glance back at Aergad, realizing they had not yet discussed any ground rules. “That okay with you?”

Aergad’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he gave Fives a sexy wink while he unabashedly readjusted himself in his pants, watching Sellé squirm with delight.

“If I’m okay with it, he’s okay with it, handsome. It’s safe for you to cum in me all you want. Let’s talk more about this inside, though. We’re here,” she said, scooting off Fives’ lap and out of the cab.

As he followed them into the turbolift to their upscale apartment, Fives found it a bit odd that Aergad was so willing to let his girlfriend so lewdly seduce and fondle another man right in front of him—a complete stranger, no less. However, he conceded that unless they had anything other than a healthy open relationship, he would have been grappling on the sticky floor of 79’s.

Sellé practically dragged them both down the hall and shoved them inside the apartment when they got to their floor, and promptly asked Fives to help unlace the back of her corseted top. With such an edgy beauty proudly shedding her clothing for him, it was extremely difficult for Fives to take his eyes off of her.

She let the corset fall to the floor, revealing more diamond-patterned tattoos flowing along the curves of her back, and shivered as Fives traced them with gentle caresses of his fingertips. He pulled her close as his hands wrapped around her waist with her tattoos, kissing her neck and giving her waist an affectionate squeeze.

“Get that armor off, soldier,” she sighed as his hands came up to cup her full breasts. “I’ll be right back.”

Fives released her and watched hungrily as she scurried off down a hallway. But out of the corner of his vision, he could not help but notice the way Aergad’s violet eyes were drinking him in with a look of barely-contained lust.

He could not deny just how attractive the Zabrak was as he recognized that look, and it made his half-hard cock twitch as he began placing his armor in a neat pile next to the discarded corset.

Aergad’s angular face was covered in smooth, light tan skin marked with sweeping, symmetrical linework tattoos of a darker shade, and his striking eyes were stoking that ember into a flame in Fives’ gut. The tight fit of his clothes also left little of his lean physique to the imagination, and if he said the word, Fives would have been on his knees in a second.

After finally plucking up the courage and stripping down to nothing but his briefs, Fives turned to face his admirer and asked, “Like what you see?”

Aergad gracefully pushed off the table he had been resting on and slowly circled him, trailing his fingers across Fives’ burning skin. Fives felt his cheeks darken, and he shuddered pleasantly at the taller man’s light touch.

“I think you’re absolutely gorgeous,” he mumbled, his hands settling on either side of Fives’ neck as they came face to face. “I’d love to fuck you.”

Fives blinked in surprise and swallowed nervously. “Oh, I thought you might want me to do that,” he chuckled bashfully, briefly locking eyes with him before averting his gaze again.

Shrugging, Aergad caressed Fives’ pulse points gently. “Either way works for me. Sel’s only into males, but I like to keep options very open.”

He did not quite know what Aergad had meant by that, but he had a good feeling he would soon find out—a prospect that thrilled him more than he expected. He was suddenly overcome with the need to kiss the beautiful man in front of him, but instead settled for resting his hands against Aergad’s trim waist.

The rush of nerves must have made Fives’ heartbeat quicken because Aergad quickly shifted his hands to Fives’ chest to steady him.

“Hey, now,” he said soothingly, “it’s okay if you don’t want me. You get to decide, since you’re our guest. If you only want Sellé tonight, that’s fine. I’m… I’m sorry if I’ve come on too strong.”

“No! No, you didn’t. I-it’s fine, really. I just…” Fives found himself gripping one of the man’s slender, but sturdy wrists, soaking in the warmth of his palms and searching for the right words. “I’ve been with men before, but I’ve only been a top. You’re the first who’s ever said he wanted to fuck me.”

“We can share you, too, you know,” Sellé said quietly, reentering the room. Her slender arms encircled Fives’ waist, and she pressed her lips into his shoulder blade. “There’s no pressure at all. If you want to stop now, if you need some time, it’s all right. Whatever you want, Fives, you can have it.”

“I… uh… I’m not sure,” Fives replied, reaching down and holding onto one of her arms as well. “Never been given so many choices before… with anything.”

Being sandwiched between them was starting to become overwhelming in the best way possible. He was already so hard from the knowledge of both of them wanting him, and the warmth and feel of their bodies were keeping him grounded as his curiosity burned hot for the first time in a long time.

“Aergad?” Fives finally asked, swallowing nervously. “Kiss me?”

Aergad smiled brightly for a brief second before cupping Fives’ face in his hands and bringing their lips together.

Something deep and primal sparked in Fives’ brain as Aergad’s lips slotted with his own. He breathed in sharply and leaned into the kiss, but he let Aergad control it. The Zabrak’s lips were thin, but both tender and firm at the same time as they moved against his. Though it only lasted a few seconds, Fives could feel the desire rocketing through him. He could barely hold back the urge to chase him when Aergad pulled away.

“I think I’d like it if you shared me,” Fives confessed, left breathless and dizzy from the kiss.

With a pleased smile, Sellé came around to his front and took his hands, guiding him to their bedroom.

Fives had barely noticed before, but the whole apartment was incredibly spacious and finely decorated, and the bedroom was no exception. Later he would wonder what they did to afford such a place, but he kept his eyes mostly on Sellé, loving the way her bare, luscious body jiggled slightly with every step.

However, the oversized bed draped in nothing but plush white blankets and pillows was difficult to ignore. As she sat him down on the bed and crawled behind him, Fives was certain he had never felt a softer bed in his life.

“Wh-what should I be doing?” Fives asked uncertainly.

Aergad quickly stripped off his vest, revealing his athletically lithe torso and even more sweeping tattoos. He came to kneel between Fives’ parted knees, resting reassuring hands on his thighs. “Tell you what, since you’re new at this, we’re going to take this very slowly. Have you ever used toys on yourself before?”

His voice was like rich velvet, and Fives once again felt the excitement bubble in his stomach at the sight of the bulge visible through Aergad’s pants. “Yeah. A plug… just a few times, but nothing fancy.”

“Perfect, I have a few I can use on you first to warm you up. That okay?”

Fives nodded, struggling to control the arousal coursing through him from his core to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“Go get comfortable with Sel first,” Aergad murmured, stroking Fives’ cheek. “I’ll get everything prepped.”

As he strode off into another room, Sellé pulled Fives further onto the heavenly bed. She waited for him to settle into the cloudy pillows before straddling him and grinding delicately over his still-clothed cock, smiling at his contented groan.

“Fuck, you’re kriffing hot,” Fives hissed, eagerly running his hands up her body and bucking into her gently. It was also the first time he noticed the barbell piercings in each of her nipples, and he gently thumbed one to tease her, delighting in her little moan. “I still wanna cum in you before the night’s over.”

Sellé giggled, kissing the tip of his nose and leaning into his touches on her breasts. “That can be arranged. But first, some ground rules. In this room, we use the color system, and ‘red’ and ‘no’ mean we stop immediately. I may look kinky, but I’m not into anything non-consensual. Neither is Aergad. Do you understand?”

Fives nodded seriously. “Yes, I do.” Just from her tone, he could tell he was in experienced hands in a very safe space. Nothing would happen without him wanting it to, and it helped him relax further.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, either. This is going to be new for you, and Aergad and I have done this before, so if we see you slipping, we’ll stop and check in. Understand?”

“Yes,” Fives replied again. Her gold eyes were just as fierce as they were affectionate, and he felt himself wanting to melt beneath her from the fire coursing through his veins. If it had just been the two of them, he imagined he would have already made her cum on his tongue, and that desire to do just that quickly cemented itself in his mind.

A heartbeat later, Aergad reentered holding a small container full of various toys, lube, gloves, and bio-sheaths.

“All set?” he asked, kneeling beside them and lovingly petting down the full length of Sellé’s lek to make her shudder pleasantly.

As both Sellé and Fives replied affirmatively, Sellé shifted further up onto Fives’ abdomen, covering his hands with hers as they continued playing with her breasts and piercings. She began grinding her aching clit against the curls disappearing into his waistband, searching for the delicious friction between them.

Sliding up against Fives’ side, Aergad began slowly pressing a hand up his muscular thigh and teasing the edge of his briefs, pulling them down just enough to reveal the swollen tip of Fives’ already weeping cock.

“I’ll use my hands first, then we’ll work up to toys,” Aergad whispered against Fives’ shoulder, kissing his bronzed skin as tenderly as his words. “I promise I’ll be slow.”

Fives nodded fervently in agreement and gripped Sellé more firmly above him. “Need one of you to touch me. Please… touch me,” he gasped, barely able to believe how desperately he desired them both.

Fives thrust involuntarily into Aergad’s hand as the Zabrak pulled his underwear out of the way and grasped his cock, and his moan sounded wanton to his own ears. The callouses on his palm were a bit rough, but it was nothing compared to the relief of the pressure and warmth. As he looked at the man beside him, he was once again captivated by his violet eyes.

“You have a beautiful cock, Fives,” Aergad praised, his mouth watering at the sight of it. He released him to thoroughly lick his palm and adjust his grip before stroking him even more firmly. “So thick and hard. Look at him, Sel.”

Sellé twisted around and grasped Fives’ length behind her, joining her grip with Aergad’s. “Oh, he’s gorgeous,” she praised, deliberately pressing hard against the prominent, pulsing vein running up the underside. “Can’t wait to have you inside me and stretching me out, soldier.”

“F-feels good… so good,” Fives groaned, his every nerve tingling with need at their words. “Want… I-I want…”

“It’s okay, don’t be shy,” she said softly, slowing her movements to lean forward again and take Fives’ face in her delicate hands. “Tell us what you want.”

Fives could hear his heart hammering in his ears, but he gripped her thighs and pulled her up with surprising strength. “I want you to sit on my face,” he growled, once again finding his confidence and dying to taste her.

As soon as she shifted up onto her knees and straddled his head, Fives pulled her down and began devouring her like a man starved. He felt his cock twitch hard in Aergad’s grasp as Sellé let out the sweetest gasp of pleasure, and he knew he was in for the night of his life.

TBC

Part 2

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Taglist: @wild-karrde @rexxdjarin @baba-fett @samspenandsword @ariadnes-red-thread @get-wr3ckered @liadamerondjarin @enigmaticexplorer @starstofillmydream @kaminocasey @twistedstitcher27 @geminixbunny @erellenora @corrieguards @the-cantina @briefartnaturewolf @zerohski @redheadgirl @wolffegirlsunite @commander-sunshine @cw80831 @kimiheartblade @mandoloriancookie

#arc trooper fives #OC Sellé #OC Aergad #twilek #zabrak #arc trooper fives smut #nsft #fives being a bi king #star wars #the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #arc trooper fives x ofc #arc trooper fives x omc

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pvnkesttt · 2 months

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meet my ocs!

universe: tlou and marvel/x-men. name: rosaline mcdevilin. age: 25 birthday: june 15th, 1998 born: derry, ireland. partner: kiran hari. powers: banshee and nature manipulation. mutant level: omega-level. - Rosaline McDevilin was born within Derry, Ireland and was later made a foster child at the age of 5. Before her life became a tragedy, Rosaline enjoyed many things while growing up such as watching classic tv shows and cartoons, having a thing for vintage nick knacks and singing along to sweet classic rock music. All of those things still stick with her today, where she'd find herself not only as a journalist in Seattle but becoming a mutant and joining the X-Men! She became a mutant later on in life after an attack struck her body during an investigation she was doing for an article. Her powers include that of being a banshee and having nature manipulation abilities, both of which she's still getting used to.

While she didn't have much time with her parents growing up, she does find herself being given a family within the X-Men as well as a familiar hero known as The Katipō or, as some know her, Athena Kallis. It is Logan (The Wolverine), though, who takes her in and becomes a parental figure for her. Rosaline might not be good with most people but when it comes to the people close to her and the ones she loves, that's when she feels the most comfortable. There's also Kiran Hari, a man who becomes her mentor and later on, her lover as well. The two form a special connection as time passes and it becomes clear how much their love means to each other. -

unvierse: tlou and marvel/x-men. name: kiran hari. age: 38. birthday: march 21, 1986. born: mumbai, india. partner: rosaline mcdevilin. powers: solar absorption and electrokinesis. mutant level: omega-level.- Kiran Hari was born in Mumbai, India and later on moved to New York, the same place in which Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters is located. There, he'd join forces with the X-Men and become a key member of the team, a strong one at that. Kiran's been a member of the team for 15 years now.

When he's not training or defeating a greater evil with the team, Kiran likes to spend his time meditating, relaxing the muscles and keeping the mind at ease, that also includes keeping his powers at ease as well. Speaking of which, those powers include solar absorption and electrokinesis. He also enjoys cooking! He can make a nice, mean meal if you ask nicely. When a new member of the team, Rosaline McDevilin, comes in asking for help on how to deal with her powers, it is Kiran who is there and becomes her mentor. That dynamic later becomes a romantic relationship between them, one that is significant to their lives. It becomes clear that they wouldn't trade each other for the world, they love each other and their love is what makes them happy. -

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grogusmum · 9 months

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THRO-BACK THURSDAY FIC RECS! (8/3/23)

Here we are my first week of Thro-back fics!

This is not all the ric recs I got, so if I didn't get to yours, know that I will!!

Remember y'all, the point of this is to spread some love with comments and reblogs!! So feel free to bookmark this collection in your likes, but when you read a fic from it- please show that fic some love!!! REBLOG!

So many gorgeous fic to read-

Not Alone Enough @pebblesmustard gorgeous hurt/comfort type piece featuring Jack Daniel's x omc!Mateo. As I said in my comment on my reblog of the fic- I want to gather up Mateo and help mend his heart, but he has a much more capable cowboy already on the job. I hope I get to read more of these to some day!

Eyes Open by @radiowallet

We've got another Marcus Moreno x ofc fic in the house!!

I'm so glad this was recced, because it's something I've been meaning to start. I've only just read the first chapter because I want to get to everyone's rec if I can, so I've only gotten the table set, but Cat has me hooked right away! I love the dynamic between the pair. Our ofc, Amy, is a fun pair of shoes to step in. I can't wait to read more!

Okay next we've got one I've read, actually, and I'm so glad to see it again!

Not a Monster, Not Alone by @beecastle , it's a fix it fic with Ellie and Sam, and I'm guessing you know what's being fixed here!

This is what they derserved!

Here is another that I've read and love to death- happy to give it a fic rec bump from my one of my favorite persons and my favorite writer @oonajaeadira

This Will Be The Day That I Spy with Jack Daniels x chemist!f!reader

As always Adirela brings her secret sauce and slathers it all over this over the top cowboy and just makes my heart yearn!!

As I said, when I read it the first time, I love this cowboy smooth and sweet as pulled taffy!

Oh!! THE BANTER! It can not go unsung! This is top-notch banter.

Last but certainly not least is a pair of fics by @yourcoolauntie featuring my space husband Din Djarin x f!Reader

The descriptions I this fic are beautiful, but y'all let me just say-

Kitchen shave and haircut... Kitchen. Shave. And. Haircut.

For a heartbroken Din in need of comfort and care.

Please, my gumdrop heart! (Plus, some grade A smut!)

An Act of Grace

Something Divine

#hazels thro back thursday fic recs #pedro pascal #fic recs #din djarin x f!reader #jack daniels x f!reader #ellie and sam #ellie williams #jack daniels x omc #marcus moreno x ofc

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decayhearts · 21 days

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andrei duncans and ray ellison. // morden fables.

morden fables, a dead girl walking au.

#v: morden fables #oc: andrei duncans #oc: ray ellison #pairing: andrei and ray #oc x oc #oc x oc moodboard #oc moodboard #oc #moodboard #ofc #omc #original character #original female character #original male character #au #alternate universe

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rey-jake-therapist · 3 months

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The One That Got Away (Sherlock fanfic)

Hey lovely people!

After "It's so cold", my Molly Hooper centric one shot fic, here's the beginning of my second contribution to the Sherlock fandom :)

Link AO3 ⬇️

RATING: mature

PAIRINGS: Sherlock/Original Female Character, Mycroft/Original Male Character, John/Molly

TIMELINE: post The Final Problem, with many flashbacks of Sherlock's past (between 10 and 15 years before TFP)

TW: PTSD, references to past rape, drugs and suicide

STATUS: WIP

Summary:

Six months after Sherlock's sister Eurus put him, his brother Mycroft and his best friend John Watson through a series of sick games that nearly got all them killed, they all came back to their life. After helping Sherlock to repair the damages caused by the fire that destroyed their apartment, John found a new job and raises Rosie in the house he used to share with Mary. However, he hasn't forgotten his friend Sherlock, who resumed his consulting work at 221B Baker Street. It's not enough to cure Sherlock's boredom, but soon a new case will get him back to Scotland Yard; a wealthy man was found hanged in his living-room, and the circumstances surrounding his death are mysterious. Despite Lestrade's inclination towards deeming it a suicide, Sherlock is doubtful: how come his safe, hidden behind a painting, was found unlocked and emptied? Was the hanged man a blackmail's victim? Was it even a suicide? For the first time in months, Sherlock is excited: at last, the game is on! Little does he know that this new case will soon force him to face the ghost of a past he thought was behind him. Memories of a case he investigated fifteen years ago resurface, along with the heartbreak that ensued.

#sherlock bbc #sherlock holmes #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock fanfic #sherlock x ofc #sherlock x oc #fanfiction #john watson x molly hooper #the final problem #post tfp #but also pre ASIP #Mycroft x omc #the one that got away ff

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ana-swritings · 1 month

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Flying

Hello, my lovelies. Here it is. The story I have been working on for the last few weeks. Hope you like it.

This is Book 2 of the "Flying" series. So, stay tuned for the rest of the series. :)

Check it out and let me know what you think. :)

Love y'all,

Ana

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Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Fandom: Henry Cavill RPF

Words: 20,090

Fair Warning: Fluff; Angst; Hurt; Royalty AU; Anger; Comfort; Romance

Summary: After fourteen years, Bella is sure that her life is always going to stay the same and she isn’t eager for a change. However, after a celebration in Court, something changes and this is a change that Bella isn’t expecting. It’s something that throws her into a whole new world of danger, new friends, new and old foes, and the possibility of a new adventure. Will Bella be willing to give this change a chance? Or will she fall victim to her own fears and lose the chance to mend her broken heart?

Prologue

-“What are your thoughts on our special guest?” - Josh asks.

-“His reputation preceded him and he definitely lives up to it.” - Bella scoffs.

-“About that, I have some news.”

-“What news?” - Bella looks at him, suspiciously.

-“You have a suitor.”

-“What? Who?”

-“King Henry Cavill.”

***

After fourteen years, Bella is sure that her life is always going to stay the same. With being a present mother to her daughter, Alexis, and an advisor, and confident, to Mackenzie making up for most of her days, she is happy with her life and isn’t eager for a change.

However, after the yearly celebration of the claiming of the Tidaholm Kingdom, something changes and this is a change that Bella isn’t expecting. It’s a change that throws her into a whole new world of danger, new friends, new and old foes, and the possibility of a new adventure.

Will Bella be willing to give this change a chance? Or will she fall victim to her own fears and lose the chance to mend her broken heart?

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Continue reading here.

Hope you enjoyed it. :)

If you'd like to give me a tip, you can buy me a coffee here. :)

For all my works, please check out my vault here. :)

#flying #new story #book 2 #new multichapter #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #original female character #ofc #henry cavillxofc #henry cavill x ofc #josh ackles #donna ackles #mackenzie ackles #jared padalecki #omc #original male characters #ana's writings

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yourmomxx · 7 months

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈: 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍, 𝐊𝐈𝐃 (𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬)

warnings: mentions of child neglect (only slight)

word count: 3.8k

Thanksgiving. The holiday of … giving thanks. The Lord said, appreciate thou ones thy art next to youth (I don’t know, I don’t speak Bible)*, and America heard: Go and grill a Turkey.

Thanksgiving is the holiday of meaningless and overbearing consumption, as well as the holiday of compassion and family.

Cooper Bradford did not remember the last time his parents had been physically present around him for Thanksgiving.

Because, to the Bradfords, Thanksgiving meant extravagant food that would be thrown away the day after, sponsoring charities because they were good people, and facetiming their only son from the hot-temperatured country they were currently in, preferably with a beach in the background.

Cooper did not mind that much, honestly.

Most kids his age would kill to have the freedom that he had. Especially if it were to include his money. He actually considered himself lucky.

So, no, Cooper didn’t especially mind that his parents were never around for a holiday that everyone celebrated specifically with their family. He just wasn’t allowed to think too much about it.

“Here, let me help you with that.” Alexander grabbed the red packet of ketchup from his struggling fingers and simply cut it open with a pair of scissors.

“There you go.” Cooper took it back.

“Thanks.”

Oliver eyed him suspiciously from the other side of the table. “You alright, man?” He asked in a low voice. The other guys were already involved in their own conversation.

Cooper noticed that Oliver never really joined them. He listened, he observed, he sometimes commented. When Alexander was metaphorically kissing his shoes, Oliver – what he thought – subtly rolled his eyes, or he hid his smirk behind a bite of food when Kilian threw a snarky comment at Jonas.

Oliver made a nice conversation partner for Cooper most of the time.

“Sure.” Cooper smiled at him to undermine his reassurance. He squeezed the ketchup over his fries to the last bit. That way, he could easily avoid eye contact. Oliver continued eating his rice, unconvinced.

Cooper Bradford was not a very good liar, against contrary belief. He never had the need to. His parents weren’t around, so there was no reason to dish them an untruthful story when he came home later than he should have, and he had too much respect for Dylan and Cameron and vice versa, to ever want to lie to them.

Despite that, he was thirteen. What sort of huge secrets did thirteen-year-olds have?

When he made his way to English, a hand grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him aside. With a small yelp, Cooper let himself get dragged next to a wall of lockers. With solid ground under his feet, he finally looked up to see Kendra staring at him.

“What’s up?”

“Do you have plans on Thanksgiving?” Cooper opened his mouth to respond, but she forestalled him. “Rhetorical question, I know you don’t. Well, until now, because you’re spending Thanksgiving with us this year.”

Cooper opened his mouth to say something, still a bit shaken from her sudden attack, didn’t know what to, closed his mouth again, and opened it again.

“Why?” Was all he managed to get out. Kendra shrugged.

“You’re over at our place all the time anyways, first of all,” She replied. “And second of all, Thanksgiving is a family holiday. And Cooper, whether you like it or not, you’re family.”

She smiled softly at him and then wrapped him in a tight hug. Cooper felt frozen in place for a second, but then his body started gaining movement again, and he put his arms around her shoulders.

He closed his eyes. Spending Thanksgiving with his family. That had a nice ring to it. He squeezed Kendra in the hug.

Alright, additional bullet point: Thanksgiving, the holiday of family, compassion, gluttony, and … stress.

Like so, so much stress.

One would think a personal chef preparing dinner was what kept you from that, but apparently, it wasn’t. When Cooper entered the Nolan Residence, Dylan and Cameron were rushing around, cleaning surfaces, arranging shoes, and organizing different stacks of newspapers.

Without a word, Kendra grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him towards her room. She closed the door behind them. Jake was already in there, crashing different dinosaur playfigures into each other.

“This,” she gestured around, “Is about the only place in this house they aren’t going to be excessively cleaning.” She flopped onto her bed and stretched all her limbs away.

“Geez, that feels good.” Cooper let himself fall into the beanbag.

“Is every year like this?” He asked. Kendra nodded. “Every holiday, really.” She counted on her fingers. “It goes: food plans, staff, clean, eat, clean again.”

Cooper raised his eyebrow. “I will never understand why you don’t just have your housekeepers do all of that.”

“Makes two of us.”

“So,” Kendra said, and a meaningful grin stretched across her face. “Anything new?”

Cooper sighed and leaned his head back, shutting his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” Kendra pushed. “Any … girly news I should know about?”

Cooper scoffed and squinted one eye open. “If there were, you’d be the first to know.”

“Liar.” A decorum pillow was chucked at his chest. “Oliver would be.”

He chucked the pillow back, didn’t react to the accusation.

“Alright, play like that.”

Cooper didn’t say anything. He wrangled himself out of the beanbag and walked over to Kendra’s younger brother Jake sitting on the floor. “Hey, buddy,” he cooed, “What are you playing?”

Jake held up two of his dinosaur figures proudly. A muffled noise past his pacifier was the only answer Cooper got.

Cooper crossed his legs on the floor. “Can I play with you?” Jake granted him a red dinosaur with spikes on its back and sharp teeth sticking out of its open mouth, and Cooper accepted it happily. Then, with a piercing battlecry, Jake attacked Cooper’s hand.

Until Dylan called them down the stairs, Cooper kept playing dinosaurs with Jake, and Kendra watched them from her bed, absolutely losing her shit of laughter when the toddler unexpectedly body-slammed Cooper, who was only able to make a throttled noise before landing backwards on the floor.

The scenery downstairs was enchanting. Cooper gaped at the lights that threw a warm hue everywhere, and closed his eyes to relish in the smell of freshly-cooked meat.

The table was set, red napkins suiting the color scheme, candles placed in the middle, and autumn decoration sprawled all over the table surface.

Dylan and Cameron, both wearing elegant sweaters that made them blend perfectly into the warm colors of the arising season, smiled at them as they approached the table, Jake waddling between Kendra and Cooper.

If Cooper hadn’t seen it upon his arrival, he now wouldn’t have sensed the slightest note of the prior stress that him and Kendra had done their best to avoid.

Cameron picked up his youngest son with a huge smile on his face.

“Please, guys, sit down,” Dylan said. “Dinner will be served in a minute.”

They didn’t need to be asked twice. Cooper took his usual chair on Kendra’s left side, opposite Jake’s baby chair. They had fallen into a familiar pattern, unavoidable, considering how often Cooper found himself at their dinner table to eat.

As promised, only a few minutes later, multiple plates, bowls and pots were delivered from the kitchen, and placed neatly in the empty spaces between the decorations.

Cooper gaped at the different variations of pumpkin dishes, stuffing, and soups. It was probably enough to feed them for a couple days. Dylan had the same thought, because Cooper picked up how he leaned closer to Cameron and muttered, “Guess I won’t have to cook anything for the rest of the week,” to which in response, Cameron let out a soft laugh.

Cooper happily accepted the white bowl of salad from Kendra’s hands. He had realized, soon, that eating at the Nolan’s estate was, visually, the same as it was at the Bradford’s, but emotionally, so totally different.

For example, was he actually allowed to touch those ceramic bowls and get his food himself. No one distrusted him with their dishes here.

He didn’t feel the watchful gaze of others, sharply criticizing and observing his every move without ever uttering so much as a word, the soft gasps and subtle, but edged coughs that reminded him to: “Sit straight”, “Put his arms right”, “Take a smaller bite”.

He liked eating like this.

The entirety of dinner was accompanied by lively chatter – with each other, which was a crucial detail – and not merely the sound of clattering cutlery or violins playing the same Beethoven symphony over and over again.

“So, Cooper,” Cameron carefully laid his knife and fork aside as he spoke up. “I don’t know if Kendra already told you, but we have maintained a tradition at Thanksgiving for the past few years.”

He looks around the table with a sincere glint in his eyes. “One after the other, we go around the table, and each pay our thanks to the things that we are thankful for. So we never miss sight of what’s truly important.”

Cooper muttered his understanding around a bite of turkey stuffing.

Cameron dipped his head and raised his glass. “Let me start. I am thankful for my husband, who supports me through all of my days. And for the remaining bunch on this table; Kendra, Cooper, Jake. For making sure no day is ever boring.”

Kendra and Cooper threw each other a grin.

Dylan was the next to raise his flute of champagne. “I am thankful for my husband, who is a big help for me in everyday life.” His eyes drifted over to his side where his husband was seated next to him. Dylan smiled a smile that reached his eyes, so subtle and warm, and loving. He placed his hand over Cameron’s on the table. They shared two small, private breaths. Cooper felt as if he was interrupting something sacred between them.

Then, Dylan turned to them. “And I am thankful for all three of you, sitting on this table. You’re really good kids.”

It was Kendra’s turn. She lifted her glass of strawberry juice solemnly. “I’m grateful for – my family, obviously. And my friends. And Sushi,” She added. “I love Sushi.”

The rest of the table chuckled. All eyes were now on Cooper, who held up his apple juice as well.

“I’m grateful for this invitation, and for my family,” he vowed.

When he said that last part, he let his eyes linger on Dylan and Cameron for a little longer. They both threw him soft, loving smiles. Cooper’s insides felt nice.

“Dada!”

Kendra was the first one to burst out in laughter, when Jake suddenly yelled out, and it seemed to infect the entire table like a wildfire. Cameron reached over and lifted his son out of his chair, blowing raspberries in his belly and making him giggle uncontrollably.

Cooper watched them with a huge smile on his face, one so big that his cheeks hurt. But he just couldn’t bring himself to stop.

A family like this, and their relationship, this was what he craved.

He didn’t mind his parents not being there because it didn’t make any difference for him anyways.

Were the Nolans so warm and bright, open and cheerful, his house was cold, and it was lonely, and sharp around the edges. And it didn’t matter if Doyle and Laura Bradford were present, physically. They weren’t there.

“Ah, that reminds me, Cooper,” Dylan suddenly said and dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “Your parents called me this morning.”

And just like that, the mood around the table suddenly shifted.

It wasn’t much, it was merely a slight tilt, like the petal of a flower on a ripple in peaceful water, but Cooper noticed it. He had started getting good at noticing these things.

Dylan continued. If he was aware of the shifting feeling, Cooper wouldn’t know, and Dylan didn’t point it out. “They said to wish you a very happy Thanksgiving and that they’re really sad they can’t join us today.”

“So why don’t they just call him themselves?” Kendra muttered, her face turned downwards ahs she poked around in her food, as if that would prevent anyone from knowing she said it.

Cameron threw his daughter a sharp look.

“Because, as well all know, since I have explained it before, where they are right now, they can only take one phone call a day. And since they also want to talk to your father and me about what’s going on with you and the world, they would rather call us than you.”

He turned to Cooper and his eyes softened. “But they do miss you very much, Cooper.”

He did his best to conjure up a smile.

Jake gurgled when Cameron placed him back in his highchair.

Cooper had a math test a few days later, one he didn’t study for. Math was too hard for him, and useless in the future anyways. And he knew exactly how to make better of the situation.

No biggie.

It wasn’t until he was sitting in Principal Ablin’s office and the old man called Dylan in for a conversation, that Cooper thought, that maybe it might have been a biggie.

“You know, if could take your trust fund away, then I would. And I would grill it in front of your eyes like barbecue.”

Dylan had arrived a while after Ablin had contacted him about Cooper’s situation. He opened the button on his suit jacket and took the seat next to Cooper’s in one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs in Principal Ablin’s office.

Dylan’s voiced was a low hiss as he leaned over to his Godson.

Cooper made it his mission to avert his eyes from either of them. Ablin wore an apologetic look on his face.

“We would have called his parents, but, well. The Bradfords are not easily accessible these days. Probably out donating some money, am I right?” Principal Ablin was the only one to laugh over his joke.

Dylan regarded him with a critical gaze.

Ablin cleared his throat. “Well.”

Dylan sighed and adjusted himself in his seat.

“Spill it, Ablin,” he said, “How much detention does he have to expect?”

“Detention?” Ablin let out another barking laugh. “Oh, no, no detention for him. He’s getting suspended.”

“Excuse me?” “What?”

Ablin looked between the two of them sitting in front of him.

“Mr Nolan, your son-“

“Godson.”

“-paid other students to purposely fail their own math exams so he didn’t have to study for them. Despite the fact that this is a plan I have never seen a seventh grader think of, not to mention fulfill, it is a severe violation of our codes, and held back countable students from proving their full potential and earning the grades that they deserved.”

“You can’t just suspend him, though. Right? I mean, there has to be something he can do?”

Ablin shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Mr Nolan.”

Dylan sighed. Leaning his elbow on the armrest, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Alright,” he muttered. “And how long will this suspension last?”

Ablin folded his hands. “Until further notice. We will be in contact with you.”

Dylan nodded. “Alright.” He slowly rose from his seat and buttoned his suit jacket closed. Ablin stood as well, and shook Dylan’s hand goodbye in a firm grip. “Thank you for contacting me, Principal Ablin,” Dylan said. And with a glance to Cooper, he added, “I assure you that there will be consequences for his actions from our side as well.”

Ablin nodded. “Thank you for coming. Have a nice day, Mr Nolan.”

Dylan raised his hand in Goodbye, and left the office after Cooper, who squeezed himself past the door, eyes firmly cast to the floor.

With a click, the door fell closed behind them. And everything was silent.

Cooper still didn’t look Dylan in the eye. His heart was racing in his chest and, for the first time he realized that the tiles on the floor were unevenly patterned.

He heard Dylan breathe out a heavy sigh and his expensive dress shoes move over the floor. The slightest sound seemed to be echoing from the walls like gunfire.

“Sit down, Cooper.”

Cooper looked up and saw Dylan sitting on a bench next to a wall. It was the one he had waited on, prior to being called into Principal Ablin’s office and getting the verbal beating of his life. Slowly, Cooper made his way over and took his place down next to him.

For a bit, neither of them said a word.

After a while, it was Dylan who spoke up first. “What were you thinking?” He asked Cooper into the silence.

Cooper was not able to make out the tone of his voice, it was exhausted and at the same time pressed as if it took him much power to get his words out. Yet, they were calm, in a strained way.

Cooper managed to look up. “You’re not gonna yell at me?” He asked.

Dylan shook his head, not looking at him. “I once swore to myself that I would never, ever yell at my kids. No matter how bad it got.”

“So you’re not mad?”

He scoffed. “Hell yeah, I’m mad! I’ll gladly repeat my question from before: What the hell were you thinking, Cooper? Paying other students to flunk their tests?”

Cooper shrugged. His cuticles seemed suddenly very interesting. “I just didn’t want to study. Math is hard.”

“And have you ever thought of the consequences that might have for those people you used?” Dylan asked him.

“I mean, they were the ones who accepted the money!”

“Yes, because they’re thirteen! You wave a stack of cash and they’re gonna go after it like hungry piranhas. But, Cooper, these guys might’ve ruined their final grades. Because you wanted yours to be easier.”

“Please, some got kicked out of the Mathlaton, that isn’t too bad.”

Dylan took a deep breath. “Maybe not for you, but it could mean something to them.” He turned to properly look at Cooper.

“These are real people, kid. With plans, and feelings, and ambitions. It starts with a little bribing at school, and later, you use money to achieve anything you can buy with it. But, Cooper,” He put a hand on his knee, “That’s not what I want for you. I don’t want you to be a person that just does, and lets the flood wash away everything behind them. I know you and I know you’re not that person.”

Dylan stopped and looked back out into the hallway, as if it were a landscape that he was certain to study, rather than the red-brown multitude of piles and stone.

Cooper didn’t say a word. Silence stretched between them like heavy smoke.

He took in his Godfather’s appearance. Black suit jacket, white shirt, ironed pants, and dress shoes. A loosened tie, that had probably been fixed properly in place before he had walked into the principal’s office to hear about his only godson’s suspension.

“Did I pull you out of a meeting?” Cooper’s voice cracked around the edges when he spoke for the first time in a while.

Dylan blinked hard, as if Cooper had just snapped him out of a deep trail of thoughts and looked him heavily in the eye.

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” was the only thing he said, and then stood up. Cooper followed.

“Let’s get you home. We’ll decide on a suitable punishment when Cam is back from work.”

The car ride back to the Nolan Estate was silent, merely the upbeat rhythm of Led Zeppelin tuned a beat through the car. Cooper wasn’t in the mood for ‘Immigrant Song’ now, but it seemed to calm Dylan down.

Cameron was mad when he got home that night. It visibly took everything for him to not slam his – very expensive – bag with his – very expensive – laptop inside on the countertop as he marched into the living room, where Cooper was already waiting on his verdict.

Funny, considering Cam was a lawyer.

“What. Were. You. Thinking?” The man gritted out through his teeth, pacing over the rug while Cooper was slumped on the couch.

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Cameron forestalled him.

“Actually, don’t answer that,” He said, “I probably don’t even want to know.” He screeched to a halt, and fixated Cooper with his eyes, which was somehow way more intimidating than the amount of pacing from before.

“You know, back in my day, when you wanted to cheat, you just wrote the most important shit on your forearm and hoped the teacher wouldn’t notice. But actually paying people to-“

He cut himself off in his frustration. “I really hope you know that this behavior will have consequences, young man.”

That’s when Dylan stepped next to him from where he’d been standing a few feet away. He laid a hand on Cameron’s shoulder as if to ground him into a calmer state. “Actually, we’ve talked about that already,” He explained to his husband, also looking at Cooper now.

“And after a while of contemplating, we figured that it would probably best to keep him here for a while, just so we see what exactly he’s doing. He’ll be grounded, obviously, and I figured we take his allowance away for-“

“No, no, wait,” Cameron interrupted his husband by placing a gentle hand on his arm. “I have a better idea.”

Cooper started shuffling nervously under his piercing gaze. “Am I going to prison?” He asked.

“Oh no, honey.” Cameron’s tone was uneasily calm. “You are going somewhere way, way worse.”

“Cooper Bradford, you are grounded. Also, help Oliver wash my car!”

Katie Otto was many things. A housewife, a mother, an occasional judge of other people. But she was no slave to the Westport norms. Not even when it came to her Spring Gala.

So, yes, when the Nolans called her to have an eye on Cooper as punishment for his little stunt at school, who was she to say no to that?

After all, in her opinion, nothing really compared to sitting by your window on a breezy afternoon, drinking coffee, and watching two bratty teenagers rake dead leaves.

Also, it wasn’t even considered child labor as long as they didn’t work more than eight hours a day! God bless America!

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this I hosted parties and starved my body Like I'd be saved by a perfect kiss

The jokes weren't funny, I took the money My friends from home don't know what to say I looked around in a blood-soaked gown And I saw something they can't take away

-You’re on Your Own Kid, Taylor Swift

another chapter this week because it's my sister's birthday! enjoy!

tagged: @ficsnships @amorhedera7

* just as a Disclaimer: I do not intend to offend anyone with this sentence. I, myself, am Christian, and English is simply not my first language so I really have no idea how it is or is not written in the "holy book". Then again, if you are offended by this, maybe you should circle back and think about the fact that you're reading gay fanfiction right now.

#cooliver #cooper bradford x oliver otto #ofc #omc #american housewife #ao3 #cooper bradford #you're on your own kid #taylor swift

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decieve-ineigle-obfuscate · 6 months

Text

His World Is Safe, And He's Finally Home

Rating: Explicit - MDNI!

Category: Angst/Fluff/Smut

Pairing: Phillip Graves x OFC

Word Count: 3,917

Warnings: Torture and mentions of torture. Blood. So much cussing. There's even cussing in different languages.

Smut. Oral (Fem!Receiving). P-in-V sex (they're married, but you should wrap it.)

Phillip Graves aches.

Being fortunate enough not to be in the tank Soap had blown up is little consolation when Alejandro Vargas had found him after months of hiding.

Graves still had all his teeth and fingernails, so he should count himself lucky there. Another captor likely wouldn’t have been so… generous.

Is it fucked I consider it that? Graves wonders silently.

But his nose is broken and bleeding and several lacerations still sluggishly drip blood down his torso, even hours after Vargas had left the room.

145 days.

Damn near half a year of torture. Some of it, Graves is sure, is purely retribution, rather than an actual desire for answers.

Where is Shepherd?

What did he want with the missiles?

Why did he order you to attack us?

Why did you betray us?

How do you like this?

That last question always comes as Vargas or Parra drags a knife down his body. Sometimes it’s asked in Spanish, sometimes not.

He usually blacks out during this if he’d already been beaten. If they start with the knife, he’s awake for every fucking second.

Blacking out is merciful.

Then he can think of something else. Dream of something else.

His shadows.

Texas humidity instead of Mexico’s dry heat.

The little ranch-style house in Texas, exactly 1.35 miles from the base, that he’d bought in 2016 when starting Shadow Company.

Is the base still there? Are my Shadows?

She wouldn’t let anything take it away. She would have taken over and kept everything running. Keep everything stable.

His Yocheved had come from the IDF after 2 years of mandatory service and 10 years of voluntary service. She had gotten fed up with red tape and no change and orders that took unnecessary lives.

So she’d come to him, to Shadow company, when it was barely 3 months off the ground.

Out of 140 possibilities, she and one poor bastard (whom Graves had done nothing but criticise) named Osmond became his tandem second-in-command.

Oz frequently deferred to Yocheved for judgement, her ability to keep a level head in any situation is nearly inhuman, but the three of them worked so well together.

No one was less surprised than Oz when Graves popped the question to Yocheved in 2019. And even less surprised when she said yes.

One of Graves’ shadows had surprised him by offering to officiate. And less than 6 months later, they married.

She loved his Shadows just like he did. Painstakingly took care of each one of the 200 men and women under his command.

Less now. His traitor mind said.

She wouldn’t let anything happen to them.

She would’ve made the improvements she always complained about.

She and Oz would carry the company on.

She had her name on his lease as a safety precaution.

So that was safe.

His world is safe. He’s just not in it.

“Wake up, Cabrón.”

Graves’ head snaps to the side with the backhand.

He doesn’t bother to roll it back around.

If Vargas wants him to look, he’ll just yank his hair like normal.

Something stings on his torso and the smell of rubbing alcohol hits his nose.

Sometimes cleaning is as bad as the knife.

Vargas scrubs and digs the alcohol wipes through his wounds, often restarting bleeding.

It’s like he waits for it to scab. Graves thinks absently.

Not this evening. Today, Vargas just cleans and bandages, and Grave’s hands shake where they’re tied to the chair, fearing what he’ll do instead.

“Doctor said you’ve lost too much weight. I know you don’t fucking eat the rations. Eat your goddamn food, or I’ll get a tube put in.” He shoves a tray at Graves, unties his hand and nothing else, and leaves the cell.

Chicken, rice, something akin to flatbread, beans and vegetables.

Graves is almost grateful, if he didn’t know it’d make him sick later.

He eats slowly, stopping every time his stomach roils, but the fear of the food being taken away is worse. He hasn’t eaten in 2. No, 3 days and it shows.

When he’s done, he’s beyond full, and sleep comes again.

Graves dreams of fireflies, a tire swing, and little children with dark hair who speak Hebrew like their mother.

Vargas doesn’t backhand him awake this time.

He does dump water over him.

It takes Graves three scrubs with a sponge to realise he's in nothing but boxers and the room smells like soap.

“Fuck.” He shudders at how cold the water is belatedly, as well.

“Water heater’s fucked. You can deal with it like the rest of us.” Vargas huffs.

Graves has half a mind to say something snippy, but settles on “thanks.”

Vargas dumps some more water on his head with a smirk.

A clipped “shit” from Graves widens said smirk.

Vargas doesn’t pamper Graves by any means. That’s not his job. But he does clean him well.

And shaves! Graves’ mind rejoices.

No dried blood, no sweat, no half-grown beard, no stink of the cell.

“I let you sleep all day. You’re gonna talk to Laswell because she still doesn’t know what the fuck the brass is gonna do with you. You’re gonna tell her what you ate for dinner. And if you complain that I use nylon ropes again, I’ll break your nose.”

The threat sounds a bit empty to Graves, but he doesn’t do anything other than nod.

“Good. Now get dressed, pendejo.”

He’s handed a towel and clean clothes—dry boxers included—and untied.

“5 minutes. You can manage that, right, cabrón?”

Another nod and he waits until Alejandro is gone before stripping and drying off with a scratchy towel and slipping into a sweater and jeans so soft, they made his last set of clothes seem like sandpaper in retrospect.

Alejandro returns after Graves counts off five minutes in his head (but he always did count fast).

His upper arm is grabbed securely (as if he has the energy or desire to escape in 60º weather, at night, with 50 miles to the border) and dragged to a conference room.

His knees give out at the door because Oz is there. And he can’t decide if he doesn’t wanna be seen after what happened or doesn’t wanna be seen like this. And bile rises in his throat.

“Up.” Alejandro grunts, pulling him into a chair.

Oz turns and says nothing but he fucking smiles.

Graves wants to cry at the familiarity.

Alejandro leans close. “I cut you up and you won’t fucking cry, but your SIC smiles and you do. You’re fucked in the head, you know that?”

Some part of the back of Graves’ brain agrees. But he’s so goddamn happy to see Oz.

Oz hands Laswell a file and explains something low enough that Graves can’t hear, but then he sits next to Graves.

And he hasn’t seen Oz in a year.

And Oz is alive and well.

And he’s here on behalf of Shadow Company

And so Shadow company is alive and well.

He chokes on a sob, and Oz squeezes the hand Alejandro cuffed to the chair.

Oz would do more if they weren’t in a crowded room. He’d hold him because Oz is his best fucking friend, and his best man for a reason.

And they’re both so fucked up that crying isn’t something they can be bothered to feel shame over anymore.

“Yoche says hi, boss.” Oz whispers, pressing his wedding ring onto Graves’ finger.

And he missed it.

And he misses her, but she’s alive to miss him.

“Thank you.” He whispers, trying not to make it obvious to others that he’s crying.

People sit and start talking and all he can think about is how the metal of his wedding ring warms from his skin and how Oz is here.

Then someone mentions his name and “Former General Shepherd” (when did he get discharged?) and “blackmail”. And the nausea returns.

Laswell looks through the file Oz had handed her, hands it to Alejandro and he blanches.

Graves wants to crawl out of his skin, break his wrist or something to get out of this damn chair because nothing’s being said and it's too loud and his skin is too tight, and those are his emails…

“Mierda. Dios del cielo, perdóname, por favor” Alejandro whispers, reading the printout.

Graves knows what it says. It’s been burned into his mind since he read it the first time. He thought he’d scrubbed his computer well enough…

Graves,

Since you failed me, let me make one thing clear. Your company and Task Force 141 are now liabilities. If you do not dispense with any operative that gets in the way of your orders, I will destroy everything you have built. I will have every man and woman under your care executed, I will tear down your base, and I will brand your beloved Yocheved a traitor and sell her to the first Jihadist I can find.

Do not fail me again. I will not tolerate it.

Every single weak spot Shepherd could find, he exploited in one fucking email that had ruined his life.

And here it was, out in the open for all to see. He doesn’t know what angle Oz is playing, if Yocheved knew, or anything beyond the fact that his heart is going way too fast.

He stares at a divot on the table where someone (likely with a ring, he decided) had punched the table, and tries to pretend it’s something Yocheved had done. That he’s back home. That this is his meeting room and not a base in Mexico. Yocheved is sitting next to him on the right and not Sergeant Major Parra.

“Graves?”

He looks up at Laswell (probably looking like a scared rabbit, he realizes). “Yeah?”

“Is this yours?” She asks, passing the printout.

He doesn’t look, he’ll get sick again. His mind will race to hide and simultaneously imagine all the things that someone would do to his wife for prejudice.

Every horrible fucking thing he’d done and heard of done to the woman he’d die for.

Because he failed.

“Supposed to get scrubbed.” He chokes. “Had a program.”

Oz squeezes his hand and he wants to yank it away and squeeze back at the same time.

Did she see it?

Did Yocheved see it?

God, please don’t let her see it.

Please.

Please?

Are you there?

“Fortunately. I’m better at finding things than programs are at hiding them.” Oz said proudly.

Is this what spiralling feels like? Graves wonders absently.

He wasn’t there for the rest of the meeting.

His mind sat on his queen-size bed with the blue quilt she’d chosen, comforting her after she’d seen the emails.

Promising her nothing like that would ever happen.

Promising he’d kill anyone who looked at her wrong.

Promising her he wouldn’t go on the mission, that he wouldn’t leave.

Promising he’d do everything he should’ve done.

He isn’t brought back to his cell, he’s brought to a small room with a cot.

Alejandro whispers more apologies than Graves’ mind can process at the time. Both in English and Spanish and the two begin to mesh in his mind.

He gives an absent “it’s okay.”

Alejandro brings him more good food and eats dinner with him, offering a tablet to watch football since it’s in season, and he has a VPN so he can watch other programmes.

It’s not Graves’ team, and he barely watches anyway. He’s still praying to a god he hasn’t believed in since before his mother died.

Alejandro asks about the rules and Graves barely explains.

“Each team tries to move the ball to the opposite end goal but they can’t lose the ball or the other team gets it.”

He eats until he finally realises he’s full, and by then he’s sick again.

“You wanna sleep? I can go.” Alejandro offers quietly.

Graves nods and is left alone with the tablet and a water bottle.

He watches until the tablet dies and passes out almost immediately.

He dreams of blue quilts, hazel eyes, Hebrew lullabies, and cricket sounds through an open window.

“Graves. Graves.”

The tablet is plugged in and Alejandro is standing over him.

“You’ve got a visitor. We’re transferring custody while things get sorted. You’ll be leaving tonight.”

Graves sits up blearily. “Where’m I goin’?” He yawns.

“Over the border. Laswell’s handling it.”

Graves nods and is handed a T-shirt and jeans.

“I’ll be outside, call when you’re done.”

Graves guzzles the water and changes into clean clothes.

He doesn’t register if the clothes are soft or not, he only joins Alejandro in the hall.

“Alright, Graves, let’s go.”

His arm isn’t held this time, he’s simply allowed to trail behind Alejandro to a door at the end of the hall and somewhere to the right.

Normally I’d remember these things.

Alejandro opens a door that leads outside and several of his shadows are in a crowd talking to a less-than-pleased Rudolfo.

Graves feels something for the first time that morning (more like since he saw the emails).

Comfort, warmth, safety, familiarity.

Curly black hair.

“YOCHEVED!” He screams, running to her.

She hands off the tablet she’s holding to Oz and embraces her husband for the first time in a year.

“Shelvem ahevbety.” She whispers against his cheek.

He sobs and holds her so tightly he worries absently he might hurt her.

She doesn’t complain and squeezes him back, happy to simply be in her husband’s presence after a year.

The cuts healing on his torso protest at the friction, but if anything, he squeezes her tighter simply to feel something after so long of being numb.

“Hello, my love.” She coos softly, rocking him as he sobs into her shoulder, the tension, pain, and anxiety pouring out now that they’re safe together.

I missed you so fucking much.

It’s only when she laughs and squeezes him that he realises he said it out loud as well.

The day passes in a blur.

His lead Shadow Team. His wife.

His momentary freedom.

Yocheved doesn’t stop holding his hand all day.

The plane ride is almost as much of a blur, but he’s happy and has so much energy with nowhere to go that he talks until his throat is raw after months of disuse.

His team laughs and entertains him as best they can in a C-130.

And he basks in their love and attention.

It hits him on the drive from the airport.

I’m going home.

He’s in America.

He’s in Texas.

He’s with his wife.

He’s going home.

“Oh my god.” He whispers in the passenger seat.

“Mmm?” Yocheved hums softly.

“I’m…” He chokes up, and she pulls over on the long road to their home.

“My love.” She coos, undoing his seatbelt and guiding him into her lap to be held.

“I’m home.” He sobs again and again.

It’s all he can register.

“Yeah, baby, we’re going home.” She whispers.

It takes him an hour to be coherent again.

He’s silent as the car pulls into the drive.

He’s looking at everything he possibly can at once, even though it’s dark and the motion light hardly covers everything he wants to see.

“You painted the house.” He decides on.

“Is it okay?” Yocheved asks, coming around to his side and undoing his seatbelt while he hyperfocuses.

“S good.” He nods softly. “I like the blue door. S like our quilt.”

She smiles and nods, protecting the back of his head as he clumsily stands from the car.

He hasn’t been this active in months.

She has a hand around his waist as they walk into their home, bracing him casually.

His mother-in-law kisses his face and prays over him before leaving and the house is quiet.

Tiny pattering on the hardwood breaks his heart again as their three-year-old daughter and 8-year-old son rush up.

Phillip had gotten such a short time with Benjamin after they’d adopted him, but he cries just as happily to see his father.

He squeezed his babies tightly, holding them against his chest and sobbing again.

He can’t remember the last time he cried so much in a day.

His children have more questions than he can answer either legally or ethically (considering they’re 3 and 8). But he tells them about how hot Mexico is and how happy he is to be home.

Ahava, their daughter, curls in his lap and he rocks her as she drifts off listening to her father talking.

Benjamin kisses his parents’ faces goodnight and takes her upstairs to their rooms.

Yocheved.

His chin is tilted back and her lips meet his.

Softly.

Finally.

He kisses back as her thumbs stroke over his face, lavishing in the affection.

“Can we go…”

She’s moving with him towards their bedroom before he finishes.

The door closes and she’s pulling gently at his clothes.

Fuck, the scarring.

She drops to her knees and kisses each one, cursing Alejandro in her mother tongue.

He picks up only bits and pieces.

Ben-zonna. Son of a bitch.

Nevg' bemh shela shelv. Touching what is not his.

Aney akayeb lev. Terah ayek heva avheb at zh. I’ll hurt him. See how he likes it.

Phillips groans at her threats of retribution.

He knows she would do everything she promised, if given the chance.

“You’re so pretty for me.” She coos, guiding him towards their bed.

“Yoche…” He pulls her hips to settle against his.

“I know. I know.”

She dips to kiss him as his hands slip beneath her shirt.

“Please.” He whispers against her lips.

Her shirt lands on the bench at the end of the bed and he sits up to add her bra to the pile.

His gun-calloused hands run up the soft skin of her sides.

“Missed this. Dreamed of this so much.” He says, kissing the skin between her collarbones and breasts.

His thumbs come down to caress the lines adorning her stomach.

“Fuckin love these. You worked so damn hard for that little girl to be ours.”

Her fingers weave into his hair and stroke him as he worships the woman he’s missed so much.

She’s laid against the plush blue quilt he’s dreamt of more than seen.

He sits up on his knees to look at her like that.

Black curls splayed over their bed, staring up at him like he’s worth something.

“Fuck you’re pretty. Fuck.” He groans.

She pulls at his belt and button, the zipper undone as well.

“I missed you like this.” She says softly.

His eyes soften and he dips to kiss her as she pushes his pants and boxers over the curve of his ass.

Her soft hands follow and his head tucks into her shoulder and moans softly as she explores skin she hasn’t touched in ages.

“You’ve got too many damn clothes on.”

She smiles at that and pushes her jeans off as he stands to remove his.

He’s back to touching her as soon as he can, hands and lips wandering like searchlights. Guiding him over the woman he loves.

His lips descend down her stomach and his hands press her thighs open, desperately searching to taste her.

He licks a stripe up her warmth and latches onto her clit.

He moans against her as her fingers tug his hair.

“Fuck, Phillip.” She breathes, voice tight.

He hollows his cheeks and sucks tightly on the bud, aching to bring her an inkling of the pleasure he’s had just by seeing her today.

His ring and middle finger slip into the wetness between her thighs and she has to cover her mouth.

“Phillip…”

He hums and her hips buck against his face.

“You’re gonna kill me doing that.” She huffs, lovingly caressing his short hair.

She comes devastatingly hard under his ministrations.

He’s pulled up into another kiss as she positions his length against her entrance.

“Need you.” He groans softly as she strokes him through her slick.

“Take what you need.” She says, cupping his ass and pulling him closer.

His jaw slacks as he pushes in slowly, rocking back and forth until he’s seated.

Her breathing is heavy in his ear and waiting for her go-ahead is hellish.

She rolls her hips and both of them barely stifle their moans.

“Move. Need you to move, Phillip.”

He nods against the curve of her neck, and it’s heaven being inside her again.

Her heat clutches at him as his hips move, his mind blank of anything other than the utter euphoria of their movements.

Her scent, her touch, her taste.

The fucking cuts hurting.

His slow brain could barely keep up.

She braced his hips briefly before pushing him to sit up.

“Yoche?”

“Shhh, lemme give you what you need, baby.”

He’s kneeling on the mattress and she sits in his lap and sinks back down perfectly and suddenly the cuts aren’t pulling anymore and she’s moving again.

He rests his forehead against her collarbones as she rides him so slow it makes him feel high.

“That better?”

He can barely nod as pleasure shoots up his spine.

“There’s my beautiful husband. You’re so good, huh?”

He tilts his head up to kiss her slow and needy as he gets close embarrassingly fast.

“Yocheved…”

“I know, I know. I told you to take what you need. I know you’ll take care of me.”

He nods against her cheek.

“You’re gonna kill me like this.” He echoes her earlier sentiment.

“Cum for me baby. Wanna feel you let go. ‘S been so long.”

She cradles his head against her breasts as he reaches for her clit.

“Shit. ‘S good, baby. Just like that.” She praises.

He kisses every inch of skin he can reach as bliss tightens deliciously in his stomach.

“Ho, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” He groans against her skin.

“Go ahead. ‘M right behind you.” She breathes, voice tight again.

His hips buck once, twice, and his mind blanks.

He’s vaguely aware of her release as she rides him through their mutual orgasm.

He slowly registers being wiped down and kissed.

“I think you actually passed out for a sec.”

“Mmmm. Might have. Dunno. Had a long… year.” He hums.

She’s already dressed somehow.

And the bed has clean sheets.

“I think I did.” He decides.

She chuckles and helps him pull on pyjamas.

“There we go.” Yocheved coos as he collapses on his side of the bed.

“Still the best side.” He yawns.

She chuckles at their old argument and opens the window.

Cricket song.

She pulls the blankets on her side up just as the door cracks open.

“We wanted to sleep with you and Abba.” Benjamin whispers, holding his little sister.

“And that’s why I bought a King.” Yocheved chuckles.

Phillip genuinely hadn’t noticed, but he’s glad for it nonetheless.

The children climbed into bed and cuddled between their Imma and Abba.

They're asleep in 5 minutes and Phillip barely outlasts them to talk to Yocheved.

“You’re gonna have to show me all what you did tomorrow.” He whispers, stroking his son’s hair.

“We’ll take it slow. They’re gonna want you all day.”

“Like you aren’t?” He teases.

“True.” She smiles, leaning to kiss him over their kids’ heads. “We’ll hit the base this weekend. I wanna keep you until then.”

He nods and closes his eyes as his free hand finds hers.

Home.

My Kids.

The base.

My company.

His world is safe, and he's finally home.

#phillip graves #Phillip graves x ofc #ofc #ofc: yocheved graves #kate laswell #alejandro vargas #rudolfo parra #oz #shadow company #call of duty #smut #fluff #hurt/comfort #omc: benjamin graves #ofc: ahava graves #osmond ryan

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artemiseamoon · 2 years

Text

Under a Golden Sun

Past! Benny x f reader | current omc x f reader

An a03 fic

Status: COMPLETE

Ao3 link here

About: Living a dream life on a remote island in Australia, everything seems perfect on the surface. You have your man, your cottage, and everything you could wish for. The only thing that's missing is your first love, Benny Miller.

Full Chapters ✨Links will lead you to A03

Tumblr previews

One | two, two | three | four

Warnings

Adult 18+ content, mentions of addictions and drinking too much, depression and feeling directionless, loneliness and longing, sexual content, m/f/m dynamics. Poly themes. Read at your own discretion.

There is weed smoked in this fic, and the consumption of alcohol. I am very aware many people do not do these things. So, my advice, just read the RC as an OFC instead, that way something you don’t personally do won't be applied to you.

Etc

Pairings

Past Benny Miller x Female RC *, Omc Daniel Allan (fc: Aaron Taylor Johnson) x Female RC*

* Reading options:

read as an OC

read as a female RC (any size and any race) (RC means reader character) - RC did go to high school with Benny tho, so they are very close in age, or the same age

OMC

Aaron is gorgeous either way, but i imagine his look from Savages, with his regular curly/ wavy hair

In my OG drabble, I noticed in editing, Daniel was already pretty similar to Aaron's character Ben, which is so kismet. So, I left it that way with some tweaks.

MOODBOARDS

#Benny miller #Ben miller #Benny triple frontier #Benny x f reader #Benny x ofc #omc x f reader #fic: under a Golden sun

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sobeautifullyobsessed · 1 year

Note

As my third night of this grueling nightshift comes to a close, I breathe a sigh of relief and cry tears of joy. Not because I have survived another night, though yes that is important, but because I have finished the one thing that I set out to do back before November ended. Though I am supposed to be on holiday, I knew that I would finish this, no matter the cost. There are so many things I could say, about how much you have done for me, how important you have become to me on this journey. But I know that not a single one of them would sum up the immense amount of gratitude that I truly hold for you, V. The things that I have learned from watching your love for Stephen, the strength that it has given me about my own feelings for Tony, they are the things that I am truly thankful for.

Before I met you, I would have kept my love for him silent, mourned in my darkness and never spoken out about it. I would not have sought help here to process everything that I was feeling, how I want to feel these things. And the more I watched you, the more I realized that I truly didn't have to feel bad about the love I have in my heart for him. It's okay for me to want him here, to want him to have survived so that I can still dream of him. And while there are many, many others that I extend my thanks to, you were the first one that showed me loving a fictional character is okay, no matter what people say. And for that, I gift you this, one last thing before I rest my weary soul for the winter.

Thank you, beautiful flower, for all you have done for me - myself and for Tony - on this long journey. And I look forward to seeing where we go from here. Merry Christmas, my dear.

Oh my heart💗 - in all the best of possible ways!

I am so grateful that something that comes as naturally to me as breathing touched you in such a way that you felt freed to love and mourn and heal. I suppose I didn't get that you'd tried before to tell me this; I can be dense that way at times. But I understand now and I will forever love & treasure this amazing, beautiful, shining labor of your love. Love that comes from an immense heart, and that deserves to find its expression without hesitation or concern for appearences to the wider world.

The details of the gorgeous piece take my breath away. A ring on Beauty's finger...and a baby bump as well! Stephen looking so comfy (especially in that hoodie) and relaxed, holding not only his beloved, but the future they will share. I first saw this when I was half-awake, watching the end of the PBS Tabernacle Choir Christmas special (so I was in no fit state to reply) and as I fell back to sleep, my mind's perpetual fancy had me imagining Stephen finally saying, 'Yes...yes, let's make a baby together...' What a wonderful dream that would be!

I love seeing Tony & Damon together and happy, and that you included Tony's injuries from when he sacrificed himself to save the Universe. And a ring on Tony's finger too! I suppose it won't be too much longer until Stephen & Beauty invite their friends to take on the mantle of godfathers to Baby Strange (baby girl, much to Beauty's understated longing, as it took her mother six pregnancies to get her girlchild). After the first sketch you gifted me, I never would've imagined more--so this is the sweetest surprise and I'll adore it forever. In fact, I'm going to work on a way to make it my icon (although it may mean editing it down to just S&B, but I know you won't mind).

Mere thank you's will never be enough to portray my gratitude, so I will simply say: go rest your weary mind and soul, and may your dreams be blessed with those things you long for most, for you've more than earned that joy. Come Spring, I will be looking forward to hearing and seeing the ideas & artist visions that come to you in your hiatus! You have all my love ~ V

💜💙💜💙💜

#purplefeathersandblackleather #well beyond #fanart appreciation #fanart adoration #canon x non-canon characters #Stephen Strange #Beauty Lincoln #OFC #BeautifullyStrange #Tony Stark #Damon Renner #OMC #thank you thank you my friend!#gift from the heart #Christmas #Christmas gifts #friendship and community

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pvnkesttt · 2 months

Text

rosaline mcdevilin and kiran hari - katipō/poly!katipō-verse tlou-verse: a masterlist.

#v: katipō #v: poly!katipō #oc: rosaline mcdevilin #oc: kiran hari #pairing: rosaline and kiran #original character #original female character #original male character #oc #ofc #omc #oc x oc #oc moodboard #moodboard oc #moodboard #moodboards

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themerriweathermage · 11 months

Text

Playing With Fire

Summary: Bren gets ready to attend Nix and Sunny's engagement party, with high hopes that everything will run smoothly. But this is the Badlands, and as soon as he gets to the party, he knows that some of the barons have come to play with fire.

Pairing(s): Sunny X Nix, It's Complicated (Quinn X Bren)

POV: 1st Person (Bren), 3rd Person

Warnings: Canon-typical Violence

Co-creator: @i-drink-and-i-write-fics

Divider Credit: firefly-graphics

I grumbled out a sigh, watching the scenery pass on the 611, on my way to pick up the suit that Hassan had made for Nix’s engagement party. Sebastian flopped into the seat across from me. “You sound like you’d rather be doing literally anything else.”

“Parties aren’t my thing.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow slightly.

“No? You seem to handle a crowd well.”

“Great.” I replied dryly. “It’s too many people, too many sounds, and too much expectation for me to act a certain way.” I looked away. “I’m happy for Nix and Sunny. But probably just as irked about this particular tradition as my sister is.” I dragged my attention away from the window and onto Sebastian. “You have any particular plans for the party?”

Sebastian shrugged. “I half figured I would be on duty that night.”

“Oh? Did Sunny ask you to stay at the Estate?” I asked.

“No, actually.” Sebastian replied. “Though he did mention something about you needing an escort... potentially. So I just figured I’d be in uniform.” I wrinkled my nose.

“You can wear something nice, you know. You have my permission to do so.”

“Oh, I don’t own anything too fancy. At least, not in your house colors.”

“You tell me this as we go to the barony of textiles. Get yourself something nice. I’ll pay.” I replied. Sebastian’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“That’s very kind of you, but I’m not sure I should impose.”

“It’s fine, Sebastian, really.” I murmured, taking a minute to get up and stretch my legs. It wouldn’t be long now that we would be pulling into the station, and I needed to be prepared for a little more time on horseback.

I was one of the first people off the train, heading down the line to gather Morroch and stepping into the transportation car when I noticed that one of the horses was already saddled. I was curious, peeking under the saddle to reveal the bright blue saddle pad with a silver butterfly embroidered on it. I didn’t quite entirely realize that we were traveling with Minerva over here. Regardless of this, I gathered up Morroch, leading him and Sebastian’s horse out of the car.

“Well, well, well...” Minerva greeted me, standing on the platform waiting for her own horse, and Gaius Chau standing beside her. “Look what the 611 dragged in.” I gave her a smile.

“Here to gather your dress for Nix’s party?” I asked. “Minerva. Gaius.”

“Baron Bren.” Gaius replied in greeting.

“Just Bren, Gaius.” I reminded him, passing off the reins to Sebastian and pulling myself to Morroch’s back. “If I’d known we’d had company, I would have invited you to travel with me.”

“It’s not such a long trip anymore.” Minerva replied. “But I’m sure we can join you on the way back.”

I wondered if it was just a lucky coincidence, or if there was something more to the both of us being here at the same time. But, I didn’t think to question it too much, just following Sebastian down the pathways laid out for us.

“If you want to talk with Lord Gaius, I’m sure I can find something else to occupy my time.” Sebastian teased. I just shrugged. I didn’t really know how to describe it but ever since the Summit with Quinn, I’d just felt a little bit off, like there was an important part of me that was just... missing. I hadn’t particularly found myself in a mood to be sociable in the last few weeks, and talking candidly with Sebastian on the 611 was the most I’d found my spirits lifted in some time.

We walked side by side into the town, tying our horses to the hitching post, and making our way to the tailor. “Baron Bren!” Hassan greeted us kindly. “Sebastian.”

“Baron Hassan.”

“And it’s just Bren, Baron.” I replied.

“Hassan, then.” He extended the same courtesy to me. “Welcome. I’ve been expecting your arrival, yours and--” He glanced behind me. “I don’t suppose you came in with Baroness Minerva?”

“I did actually, but they’ll be a few minutes behind me.” I replied, following him inside where he proudly displayed the suit. I ran my hand down the deep rich blue fabric, admiring the suit. Gods, it was beautiful but I couldn’t describe how much I hated this kind of finery. But it wasn’t my party and I wasn’t going to complain.

“To your liking?” Hassan asked.

“I think it’s marvelous.” I replied, hopefully convincingly. “Actually, I was wondering, would you be able to whip up something for Sebastian in my house colors? I can pay the extra fee.” Hassan blinked, looking at me and then to Sebastian standing behind me.

“Of course, Bren.” He replied, going to find a tailor to take measurements.

“You look less than thrilled.” Sebastian murmured.

“It’s... not really my style, but it’s also not my party.” I replied, turning to browse the racks of assorted jewelry, expert craftsmanship traded from Broadmore’s jewelers and artisans, while a tailor took measurements of Sebastian.

“Will you be wearing a weapon?” Hassan asked, and Sebastian nodded. “Don’t forget to add that into the repertoire.”

“What’s this about wearing a weapon to a party?” Minerva asked.

“What, like you don’t think Chau is going to show up and crash my sister’s engagement?” I asked. “Forgive me if I’m out of line, but somehow I doubt you’d show up to this kind of party unarmed.” Minerva held a finger to her lips.

“A lady can’t tell all her secrets.” She replied. “And really, if you think Chau is showing up, I can tell you, it’s not her I’d be worried about.”

“Ugh.” I groaned. “I hope he doesn’t. He has a tendency to bring drama wherever he goes and I’d like my sister’s party to remain drama-free.”

“Of course. That’s why you’re bringing an escort, right?” Minerva asked. “A well-dressed escort, no less.” I turned and Sebastian was draped in rich blue and silver fabrics, probably wondering what he’d just gotten himself into. I dropped a golden necklace on the counter, the pendant carved into a crystal shape.

“Adding a little spice never hurt.” I teased.

“You have a good eye for this type of thing.” A voice sounded behind me. Gaius. I had almost forgotten that he was here. He’d been so quiet, but I suppose he was just waiting his turn.

I turned to face him, leaning back against the counter, and my jaw almost dropped because apparently he hadn’t just been waiting his turn. Apparently, they were still fitting him in an absolutely gorgeous dark purple suit that brought out his features even more than normal.

“Well...” I started, almost speechless. “You certainly clean up nice.” Gaius chuckled.

“Got any spice to share with me?” He asked. I raised an eyebrow slightly.

“You could try adding a golden trim to the jacket and instead a vest substituting a corset.” He gave me a little bit of a bewildered look, but I must have given the tailor an idea because the flurry of activity around him suddenly paused.

“I don’t exactly have the assets for a corset...” Gaius started.

“No, he has a point.” Hassan murmured. “You have a nice build for that sort of thing. It will only take a few adjustments to the vest. And you? No gems or jewels for you today, Bren?” I chuckled.

“No upstaging my sister at her own party.” I replied. “Not unless you have a nice hat for me.”

“I’ll just have to see what I can do about that then.” Hassan replied with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ll have it delivered with Sebastian’s suit, no?” I only shook my head and gave him a soft chuckle, paying him what I owed, and stepping out, needing to get some air.

It wasn’t long that I was joined, but it wasn’t by the person I was expecting. I turned, expecting Sebastian but getting Gaius instead.

“Join me for a late lunch?” He asked. “Since it seems that Sebastian is occupied and my baroness has a few things to requisition?”

“That would be nice.” I murmured, taking his offered arm and following his lead. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to see you traveling with Minerva today.”

“You didn’t think I’d go to the party?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really felt very sociable in the last few weeks. Working at Gideon’s was particularly draining.” I replied. Gaius chose not to comment on the obvious, getting us a table at the tavern and ordering something for us to share. “This is nice.”

“I question your decision to put me in a corset, but yes, I suppose this is nice.” Gaius teased.

“Hey, you’re the one who asked.” I replied. “You have a nice figure. A corset vest will suit you nicely, I think.”

“It’s nice of you to do this for Nix. I’ll admit, as baron, I thought you would insist otherwise. The suit, it doesn’t seem to be up your alley.” I barked out a dry laugh.

“Did the flowy cloak give it away?” I asked. “I tend to stick to what I know, and what I know I like. And besides, I like the way that it weighs down on my shoulders.” Gaius tilted his head to the side curiously. “It helps with my anxiety.”

“I would have never known. You handle yourself with such grace.” I nearly snorted.

“I have to be the least graceful person I know.” I retorted.

“But--” Gaius started.

“I think perhaps you just aren’t around enough to know the man behind the mask.”

“So your graceful behavior is that of a baron, is what you are saying. Would it be presumptuous of me to tell you that I’d like to get to know the man behind the baron?” Gaius asked. I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Perhaps you should come to House Enduring sometime.” I replied carefully.

“Perhaps I should.”

When I’d left Gaius with those words, I didn’t expect to see him show up on the front porch the afternoon of Nix’s party, just as I was heading out with Sebastian as my escort, both of us sharply dressed.

I opened the door before Gaius could knock and was momentarily rendered quite speechless. It seemed that my suggestion had quite paid off, and it took me a minute to regain my composure.

“Nice hat.” Gaius commented softly.

“You look marvelous. But I thought you were going with Minerva.”

“Actually,” Gaius looked a little sheepish, “I was told to come ask you.” Sebastian gave me a look, amused.

“How about I leave you two be?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I mean, I don’t doubt Gaius’ fighting capabilities, but an escort would still be nice. I’m not about to complain about having two dashing men at my side.” I replied, leaving them both red-cheeked at the compliment, making my way to the station where the 611 was running her overtime. Nix and Sunny had already gone ahead to take a tour of the grounds, which left me, Lydia, Sebastian, and now Gaius making ourselves comfortable for the trip ahead.

Lydia gave me a look as Gaius found a seat, pulling me back. “You didn’t tell me you had a date for this.”

“I didn’t know I had one.” I replied. “I was taking Sebastian as my armed escort, but I won’t complain with what I’ve been given.”

As we were escorted to the grounds of Rojas’ manor, I noticed one of the stablehands having trouble with a horse, and turned to Gaius. “Excuse me a moment, will you?” I asked, but not waiting for an answer either, jogging over to the stablehand and grabbing a hold of the bridle.

“Easy there, Valiant.” I murmured, taking the saddle and the bit and bridle off and putting on a halter and lead rope instead, giving him a chance to calm down on his own. When he could come to me, and put his nose under my hand, I knew he could be handled by the others. And then his ears pricked forward at the sound of kissy noises and I saw that Sebastian had somehow charmed an apple from someone and was holding it out for him to sample.

Valiant’s attention occupied, I gestured the stablehand over to brush him out. “What are these marks from?” Gaius asked, reaching out to touch the marks left behind on his when I grabbed his wrist in warning.

“He doesn’t know you.” I murmured.

“Saving yourself a bite, I see.” Rojas approached behind Gaius and Sebastian.

“The rochir himself.” Rojas gave me a smile at the compliment and leaned against the fence, looking at the marks on Valiant’s side.

“Those are the marks of a man who doesn’t know what good horsemanship is.” Rojas replied. “If I weren’t the baron, and the man who owns this horse not also a baron, I wouldn’t consider myself above petty horse thievery.”

“Well I am the baron, and I don’t give a shit about the man who owns this horse. After all, the Badlands thinks I’ve stolen everything else from him: why don’t I just add horse thievery to the list?” I asked sarcastically. Sebastian snorted.

Even Rojas cracked a smile at that, shaking his head. “You should probably get going. Your sister has been looking to make sure you got here safely. And I’ll have my Clippers make a patrol of the grounds. He may not be invited to the dinner, but perhaps he can be intercepted before he makes it to the party.”

“You have my eternal thanks.” I murmured, brushing myself off and being offered both Gaius’ and Sebastian’s arms. I raised an eyebrow and wondered if they wanted me to pick one or the other, and then didn’t I didn’t care. “Don’t mind if I do.” I murmured cheekily, taking both offered arms.

“Has anybody ever told you you’re cheeky?” Sebastian asked. “You could have said no.”

“I’m comfortable where I am.” I replied, following the escort into the back gardens. Rojas had certainly outdone himself. It was almost like walking something straight out of a fairytale.

“You’re late.” Waldo called out, sitting around with Sunny, Nix, and Minerva.

“Fashionably late, might I add.” Minerva teased.

“There was a slight incident at the gates,” I replied. “Involving a horse.”

“I thought you were going to say involving Quinn.” Sunny muttered.

“It is my sincere and genuine hope that that will not happen.” I replied.

“You and me both.” Nix murmured, taking the offered seat as more guests began to fill in the backyard. I caught eyes with Rojas as we sat down to eat and he shook his head subtly, looking in the direction of where his Regent was standing, and I nearly choked on my drink. Because Esme was standing there with a cattle branding tool in her hand, rather idly heating it up over an open flame and inspecting the red hot grasshopper brand. I would hate to be the man that came uninvited to a party and ran into her.

With dinner served, all parties moved inside for the announcement of Nix and Sunny’s engagement, for some drinking and some dancing. It seemed like the coast was clear and I was just beginning to relax when Rojas announced their engagement, and then I heard it.

“From a Regent to a Captain and marrying a thieving whore.” My jaw tensed. “What a disgrace.” The crowd parted to let Quinn through. Damn it. But he came in alone, overconfident in his ability to charm a crowd.

“Odd choice of dying words,” Nix replied smoothly, “Especially since you weren’t invited.”

Rojas gave me a sincerely apologetic look, and cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, he doesn’t have to be. As long as the event is not being held in a territory that has banned the Baron, anyone has an automatic invite.”

“That information would have been useful earlier.” Nix growled. Oops. I suppose I had put a little too much hope into thinking Rojas’ soldiers would have been able to find and detain him. Either that or he was better at hiding than I thought he was.

“I couldn’t resist a party,” Quinn offered a smile, rare, but it was more of a smirk than a smile.

“I’m not surprised you came. You thrive on people hating you. It’s why you’re alone.” One could have heard a pin drop at Nix’s words, everyone watching and waiting with bated breath, and Quinn’s eyes went wide at her words. It was no secret that our baronies had been on the brink of war with each other, but I’m not so sure that everyone else was aware of what else had happened in the last few weeks.

He was alone. No escort. No date. No nothing but him and his sword. And his horse, but if he still had a horse at the end of the week, I’d be surprised. And then his face burned bright red, and I couldn’t help but hiss a warning in Nix’s direction.

“Nix!”

There was no play to the emotion on Quinn’s face. I watched his eyes harden and his hand reach for the sword at his waist, pulling it out and leveling it in her direction. And then there was Sunny, standing in between the two, his sword meeting Quinn’s.

“If you even get within five feet of my fiancee, I will personally drag you outside to Meraxes.” Sunny growled, anger evident on his form. Quinn met Sunny’s eyes and then looked over his shoulder to Nix.

“Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor. A dragon is not a slave and your former Regent is about to become valzȳrys hen zaldrīzes. The Dragon’s Husband. So I would choose your next actions wisely.” Nix murmured. And then everyone heard it, the low rumble that rolled right on through the ballroom. Meraxes. And surely Quinn would not be fool enough to challenge the dragon... again.

He finally sheathed his blade and walked away, but not before his expression gave it away that he was not pleased. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and realized that Sebastian had stopped mingling during that entire affair to be at my side, his sword drawn and ready to defend me.

“I think I need a drink.” I eyed the bar where Quinn was sulking with a glass of whiskey and grumbled.

“I’ll go shoo him away.” Sebastian replied, making his way over there. I shivered under Quinn’s gaze when Sebastian made it clear that he was to move on, and then he scowled, anger in more than one way glinting in his eyes.

“I believe you said something about a drink?” Gaius asked, offering me a glass of wine as I tore myself away from Quinn’s jealous look.

“Yes, thank you.” I murmured as Gaius planted himself in front of me, blocking Quinn’s view. “You’re putting a target on your back, you know.”

“You look like you needed a rescue.” I took a sip of the wine, savoring the sweet flavor.

“It’s appreciated actually.” We moved to the side of the ballroom so as to not be in the others’ way when the dancing began. I could see that Lydia had convinced Sunny and Nix into a dance and given up after one before coming to poke us about it.

“You should dance.” Lydia prodded.

“You know I have two left feet.” I replied.

“Sunny and Nix danced.” She retorted. I rolled my eyes good naturedly, downing the rest of my drink and setting the glass aside.

“Will you excuse me for a moment?” I asked Gaius. “My Regent is demanding a dance.” Lydia protested as I led her to the dance floor, falling in line with the others dancing.

“This isn’t what I meant and you know it,” Lydia chided, but smiling regardless as I spun her around.

“Anything to see you smile, Lydia.” I replied, finishing the dance and gracefully bowing out as the song ended.

“I am quite certain that she was talking about us.” Gaius handed another, notably full, glass of wine.

“Oh, I know she was.” We found a little bit of a secluded corner to take for ourselves, away from the busy chatter of the ballroom. “But there is an absolute one hundred percent chance that Quinn would try to steal me as a dance partner from under your nose. I think he’d rather face a den of wildcats than do that to Lydia. And besides, really, I am not coordinated enough to dance.”

“You shouldn’t have to watch your back from him.” Gaius frowned. “I wish he hadn’t come.”

“I also wish your sister hadn’t come but oh... such wishes are wasted.” I muttered, seeing Juliet and Broadmore mingling in the crowd. “You know, as much as she and Quinn do seem to hate each other, they have the same penchant for causing drama. Are we sure they don’t meet up for whiskey once a month and exchange ideas?”

“I think my sister wouldn’t be caught dead drinking the same thing Quinn does, let alone be caught alone in the same room as him. And I’m not entirely sure Quinn would walk out of that room if they were alone in it together, in all honesty.” I snorted. “The only person that man is charming to is himself.” And then Gaius glanced in my direction and gave me a sheepishly apologetic look. “No offense.”

I shrugged. “It is what it is.” I tracked Juliet across the room as she made her way to the happy couple, hoping against my better instincts that things weren’t about to come to a fight. Especially after she gestured in our direction. For a good minute, it looked like things were going smoothly, until I watched Juliet backhand my sister and my jaw actually dropped. It was almost instinct how quick I felt the armor crawl up my back and right down my nose, scales dusting my cheeks and throat.

When Nix hit the pillar, I growled, feeling fire rise in my chest, but still frozen to my spot, rooted in fear that somehow overrode the feelings of anger. She was hardly defenseless with Dark Sister, but even I could tell she was disoriented and unable to defend herself from the Clippers closing in. Before I could shake myself out of my stupor, I heard Sunny growl-- the kind of feral growl that would make anyone second guess themselves-- “Step away from her!”

And then he had punched his way through Chau’s men and hoisted Nix over his shoulder, setting her down halfway across the room in the clutches of Rojas and Minerva, and he was right back in the fray, sword drawn and ready to go to war for his mate.

Before they could get into it, I watched as Nix pulled out Dark Sister. Oh, I knew now, someone was in for a nasty surprise.

“She’s a whore and unfit to be a baroness!”

Sunny snarled again. “I’ll have your tongue for insulting my fiancee!” Nix lifted Dark Sister and swung down at an angle, severing the clipper’s head right in half. The Valyrian steel cut cleanly and the body dropped as the top of the head spun away. Everyone looked at her in shock.

“He can keep his tongue,” Nix huffed as she twirled the sword. “Who’s next?” The chatter of the room had completely died out and everyone’s attention was on her and her blood-spattered look. Even Sunny looked completely taken off guard, but I don’t think anyone had really seen her use Dark Sister to its full potential.

Finally, Broadmore, who’s attention was glued to Dark Sister, snarled, “Where did you get that blade?”

“Old Valyria. Standard issue for dragon riders.”

“You don’t deserve such a weapon!”

From my vantage point, I could see the contemplation on Quinn’s face. She was only one woman but he’d have to go through Sunny to get to her. And if he managed to get through Sunny, he was going to have to get through me.

“Then come get it!” Nix growled, moving into a fight stance, and Sunny fell back to her side, his own sword at the ready. Broadmore advanced with his sword drawn, and Quinn behind him. Really?

Oh, I was offended. Well, I was more than offended. I was fucking pissed. I needed this man to fear for his life right now without scaring a whole ballroom of people. So I shoved down my Wrath and focused on just changing one part, my tail curling around Gaius’ feet in a warning rattle.

I watched Nix recognize the sound and glance in my direction, and then Quinn stopped and also looked in my direction. And he came face to face with the parts of me that he probably still hadn’t reckoned with. I knew that my eyes had changed, pupils contracted into thin slits and that I was giving him an entirely predatory stare, shaking the rattle in warning. Gaius’ hand pressed into my chest and he stepped forward, hand on his sword hilt, but Quinn had already swallowed rather audibly and was backing away, sheathing his sword.

But the others, not so much. The others had no idea what had frightened Quinn enough to make him back away and still pressed the advantage against Nix. Until Nix reminded Juliet what had happened last time she’d pulled a sword on my sister. Then and only then did Juliet give the command for her Clippers to back off. And then there was one. And Broadmore no longer had the muscle behind him for backup.

So Nix stepped up and leveled her sword at Broadmore’s neck, not close enough to hurt him, just close enough to threaten him.

“Your move, Old Man Broadmore. Do you think you have it in you to steal a sword beyond your abilities?”

Now that the others had backed down, Rojas regained control over the situation. “Enough! Chau, Broadmore, you are done for the evening! Gather whomever you brought and leave. Tonight!” He ordered, turning to Quinn, who seemed to still be in shock from what he’d been shown. “You too, you walking disaster. Take your drama out of my barony.”

I took in a deep breath, letting go of the partial shift. Part of me couldn’t believe that had just happened; the other part was still broiling with anger. I turned to Gaius. “I’m sorry for doing this, in advance, but um,” I took off my hat. “Can you hold this? I’ll be right back.”

And I didn’t wait for an answer, following the retreating barons out.

“Quinn!” This was one of the times I knew I had to make my voice carry, and carry it fucking did, because he flinched at the sound, turning around to face me just as my fist crashed into his jaw, making him stumble backwards in surprise. His hand flew to his cheek in shock and he looked in disdain at the blood wetting his fingers when he drew his hand away. My armor hadn’t entirely faded with all the adrenaline running through my system, and it didn’t seem likely to fade soon. “You are an infuriating, miserable, lonely old man!” I snarled.

He opened his mouth to say something and I cut him off, coming down the steps and shoving him backwards, both hands on his chest when I pushed. “Gods forbid you suffer the same agony you’ve put hundreds, if not thousands, of people through in the same silence and complacency that you require everyone else to suffer in!” I snapped, watching him try to find his footing as I continued to approach. I knew the other barons were watching me, and they could have been waiting for an opportunity but I didn’t care right now.

“You could have done us all a favor, you could have done me a favor,” I appealed to us, if but for a moment, because I knew I could and get away with it, “And stayed away for one fucking night! One night! One night for my sister to have the engagement party of her dreams, but no. Your only goal in life is to make people just as miserable and lonely as you are!”

“Sunny...” Quinn started.

“Take his name out of your fucking mouth!” I roared. “You’ve no right to speak of him or his honor! At least he had the courage to follow his heart.”

“That’s a fool’s notion.”

“I’m not surprised you believe that, considering you don’t have a heart.” I hissed. That made Quinn blink, both hurt and surprise flashing across his face. “Go home; you’re not wanted here!”

“Clip him!” I registered Broadmore’s order in the back of my mind but Quinn didn’t move on that order, and Sebastian had bloodied his sword by the time any of Broadmore’s Clippers made it that far. I stared Quinn down as a stablehand brought Valiant to his side, and issued a silent command of haste as soon as he was in the saddle. He gave me one last look, meeting my eyes with an unreadable expression, and turned to go into the night. “Unbelievable.” Broadmore scoffed, gathering up the rest of his men and leaving into the night behind Quinn.

I made my way back to the porch where Gaius was leaning against the doorway. “Impressive.” He remarked.

“Ugh, don’t.” I muttered, taking my hat and folding my jacket over my arm, making my way back inside. I slipped in at the bar and ordered a glass of whatever they could give me that was strong, needing to steel myself just to drink it.

If I thought about it too much, I was going to cry and I couldn’t do that here, not with all these people here. I rubbed at the back of my neck, willing the armor to go away, feeling it fade back into my skin, leaving me with bruised and bloodied knuckles.

“You’re hurt.” I hadn’t realized that Gaius had followed me and when I opened my eyes, he was behind the bar with a towel and a bowl of water, dabbing gently at my hand. Just bruises, I thought as he soon came to find out.

“My hurt is...” I tried to find the right words. “Not on the outside.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Gaius asked, wrapping my hand gently.

“I know Quinn is the enemy in many peoples’ eyes, but there was a time when he and I weren’t enemies. If our relationship was a battleground, then losing the headway I’ve made hurts inexplicably.”

“Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think any relationship should be a battleground.” Gaius murmured.

“It’s not just you.” I glanced over the ballroom, finding Nix and Sunny together, sharing a sweet and tender moment now that the drama had left. I looked away and took another sip of my drink when I realized that there was a part of me that was so very envious of them, and they were moving in our direction. I prompted Gaius to move just past the bar, taking another drink with me when we did.

“You need to hold still,” Sunny murmured in Nix’s ear.

“Would love to, but-” she inhaled sharply. “It’s still really tender.”

When Nix hit her head, a cut had formed over the area. I knew that a bump would form soon and I could tell Sunny was trying to clean the wound before it happened. He had her sitting on a chair by the bar, a glass of scotch in her hand, and he was crouched in front to get a good look at the damage.

Hassan came up with a wet cloth, a frown on his face. “All that hard work ruined.”

Nix gave a sheepish grin. “I couldn’t let Sunny face them alone.”

“Speaking of,” Sunny took the towel from Hassan and started to wipe the Clipper’s blood from her face, “I know you’ve said Valyrian steel is sharp…”

“Sharper than steel,” Nix nodded her head.

“Nixy,” Sunny raised an eyebrow. “There’s sharp and then there’s what you were able to do.” Nixy?! I had to hide my smile behind my glass. The two of them being all cute with each other made my heart do all fluttery things.

“Sunny is right,” Hassan sighed. “If Broadmore ever figures out how your blade was made-”

Nix waved off his concern. “Impossible. The how died with Old Valyria in a completely different universe. All that is known for sure, or rather theorized, is that the blade has Dragon Glass inside and dragon fire is used instead of a typical forge.”

“Dragon Glass?”

“Obsidian.”

Hassan raised an eyebrow. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but both exist in the Badlands.”

She smirked. “Obsidian may, but not dragon fire. Not really. Meraxes’ fire is just made from any flammable fuel. The fire from Old Valyria dragons…”

Sunny raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

Nix took a deep breath. “Balerion the Black Dread melted the walls of Harrenhal during the Conquest. Valyrian dragons can melt stone. If Meraxes was real, nothing could stop her.”

I downed the rest of the glass after a moment of consideration, finding Lydia among the crowds and telling her where I was going before heading out into the night. I needed to clear my head, and found a quiet spot to shift into my dragon form. Meraxes lifted her head as I passed by overhead, tracking me no doubt, as I headed South, past the borders of Rojas’ territory to perch on the great Wall of the Badlands. I looked on for miles and miles at the expanse of green fields with grasses that waved in the breezes under the moonlight.

I couldn’t tell if what I’d done tonight to Quinn was wrong. If what I said was wrong. I mean, I knew the words were right, that they were the truth, but I also knew that they would hurt him, especially when I was the one saying them. Just like he probably knew that him showing up tonight would hurt me. Because all that our relationship was anymore was just a battleground, an incessant back and forth between us with no clear sights on victory, both of us digging stubborn heels into the ground.

I would have given anything for it to have been Quinn and I in Nix and Sunny’s position tonight. But that required a type of blind loyalty to Quinn that I was smart enough and still sane enough not to have.

For the first time in a long time, I decided to be impulsive, heading off the Wall and continuing South until I met the coastline, settling down on sandy shores and just listening to the tide. There was a thudding sound behind me and I figured that Nix must have figured out that I left and came to see what was going on, but she never came down. Meraxes, to her credit, looked at me curiously as much as she did the last time she saw me in this form and I gave her a look, shifting back to my human form.

“You will never cease to amaze me,” I murmured, placing my hand on her nose. I could certainly see why Nix felt safe with her around. Though out here, I didn’t think anything was going to bother us. So for a while, I just wandered along the shores, picking up shells and pretty pieces of rock to take back with me, using my shirt as a bag to carry everything. It had to be late by the time I realized I was tired and needed to be heading back, and I let Meraxes lead the way back.

Either I must have been getting old, or Rojas sure knew how to throw a party because it was just winding down when we got back. And I’m quite sure that my absence had been noticed. I knew Meraxes’ certainly had been. But I didn’t bother to shift into my human form, just finding the one person I knew who would know me in this form (out of the few people who did) and depositing the bag I’d made from my shirt at her feet.

Lydia ran her hand over my head tentatively and I let out a rumbling purr, leaning into the touch, while at the same time nudging the bag towards her with my foot. She laughed and shook her head at me, placing the hat I’d left with her on my head and sitting down at one of the tables on the porch to examine the shells. “You were missed.”

I let out a warble in response. “Yes, yes, I know, you had to go get a breath of fresh air. I’m not entirely sure where you got it from though.” I shrugged, even in my dragon form. “I like the purple ones.” Oh. Oh, she reminded me of my mom. They were her favorite too. Our favorite.

Nix quietly came up, the blood gone from her face but still on her dress. “I see you have returned from your adventures.”

I made a burring sound at her and she laughed.

“No, I didn’t send Meraxes after you. Once the idiots were gone, it wasn’t necessary for her to stay. So she followed you to make sure you were ok.” Nix sighed. “I don’t know if I have the energy for a train ride back. Rojas has offered rooms for anyone that doesn’t wish to travel. Sunny and I are returning on Meraxes, but perhaps you and Lydia should stay. See the market here when they open in the morning. I’ll have plenty of pastries waiting for your return. Maybe swing by Minerva’s on the way back.”

It was hard to miss Nix’s wink and I warbled at her, but all she did was laugh.

“See you in the morning, Bren. Whatever you decide.”

#Welcome to the Badlands Series #Welcome to the Badlands #Into the Badlands fanfic #Sunny X OFC #Quinn X OMC #cw: canon-typical violence

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