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#he's been listening to those jokes since he was in the womb
persephone11110 · 1 year
Text
Highway To Heaven
tom kazansky x daughter reader
ofc: Nadia“Gladiator”Kazansky
summary: He watches her fight, now he’s watching her lose against death.
characters: Tom“Iceman”Kazansky, Original Female Characters x2, Sarah Kazansky
TW: medical induced coma, talks of injuries, possible death, hopeful ending
SN: i wrote a shitty reason of health problems
- I completely got carried away but its fine.
- this isn’t proofread at all.
He thinks back to her first basketball game, how she still got back up even after getting a busted lip. Never since the day she was born has Nadia Kazansky given up, not when she came out the womb blue, not even against death. So why now?
He hates how she’s not smiling as she sleeps. Ever since Nadia was a baby there would be a smile plastered on her face as she slept. Now Nadia lips sat straight on her face as she laid medically sedated on her hospital bed.
Ice listened to the heart monitor as it beeped steadily, the only sound he’s listened to for the last four days. He misses her smiles, her laughter, her corny jokes.
He sighed putting his book down, standing up and leaning over her bed rails kissing her forehead. “Honey I need you to wake up”, Tom Kazansky was never a man to beg, but for this he will; for her he always will.
Tears dropped to down his face, guilt clenched his heart. Ice himself had approved of this mission and he’d also picked Nadia for the mission knowing she would be the only person to pull it off.
If there was a way to look into the future, Ice would have never put his daughter in that damn fight jet. He wouldn’t had given the okay for her to fly, if he had known about the fallout.
He feels digusted with himself, those thoughts didn’t belong to him. They belong to a father who’s at risk of losing his only child, a father who’s already grieving for the death of his daughter.
A sob left his mouth as he thought about the possibility of losing his daughter.
He would be left childless, Tom Kazansky would know how it felt to bury a child. Something he doesn’t want to do, a thing he thought he wouldn’t have to go through.
He stares at her pale face, her face lacked it usual tan of life. Nadia would had murdered her father if she had known about a tube being down her throat.
At the thought of food his stomach growled viciously. He wanted to move and grab food. But what if he walked away and this was last time his daughter was alive?
What if this was the last time her chest went up and down, no matter if she had help or not?
“Thomas” a feminine voice pulled him out his horrible thoughts of hell.
Sarah Kazansky his little sister, grabbed her older brother and hugged him. She ran her hands up and down his back, easing his rattling body frame.
He held on to this pain for almost a week. Ice cries for his daughter at thought of her being in pain. He also cries as he knows death is approaching and finally Tom allows his guilt to unravel from his heart.
He didn’t want to be this vulnerable, not now when Nadia is facing against death.
“Here Tom” she said handing him a pb&j sandwich, and a bottle of juice. In return he offered her weak attempt of a smile.
She gives him another hug before leaving him alone in the cafeteria to return to work.
He leaned back in the white plastic chair, uncomfortably adjusting his tall frame in the chair. He twirls the necklace that Nadia gotten for him a long time ago, he feels the slight comfort and hope the necklace gives him.
He on the verge of slumber when a voice erupts his sleep.“Admiral Kazansy”
He hums lowly, his eyes open to see the doctor who had been treating his daughter.
Ice is out of the chair in seconds, hoping the doctor is sparing his already broken heart and giving him good news.
He noticed the grim look the doctor had on her face, the way her eyes had a look of pity and sadness to them.
Bad news.
“How is my daughter?”, he asks her.
“Sir, I think it’s time we discuss a plan” She pauses briefly looking at Ice before continuing.
“What I mean by that Admiral is that, Nadia is suffering from a brain injury called cerebral edema, her entire brain is bruised and swollen from the impact of her crash”.
His mask was instantly replaced with concern and anxiety.
He felt his world starting to crash and burn.
Ice’s eyes started to prickle to with tears as he thought about the death of his only child.
He took a shaky breathe before asking Dr. Foreman his next question“can you fix it?”.
Ice didn’t want the answer to his question. He knew most likely he going to end his week, month or year by burying his daughter Nadia.
“Lets take a seat” Dr. Foreman gently ordered, she gestured to the chair and led her and Ice to them.
He felt it, he knew those words by heart.
It only meant one word was going to appear in the next sentence.
Death.
The hands on the clock ticked as she talked to him describing in great detail for what was best for his Nadia.
His daughter, how dare a she tell him whats best for his kid.
He drowned out the conversation, only hearing the word death.
“Admiral Kazansky, Its in you and Nadia best wishes to let her go peacefully”. She spoke as she held Ice’s hand before letting go.
“Unless, Nadia pulls through” Dr. Foreman said kindly.
“And the chances are?” He asked as his body shooked with anger, sadness, denial.
“Less than 35 percent” she nodded her head sadly, already grasping what Ice meant.
“Admiral, sit on it and think about your next move” she ordered as she walk away from him, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
——
As Ice slept, in his dream he kept hearing erratic beeping as if it was an alarm going off.
Someone yelling pulled him out his short slumber. “she’s coding, she’s coding!”
He was being yanked out the chair by Sarah.
Ice watched from the outside as they tried to revive Nadia back.
He watched the doctors hands go up and down as they tried cpr on her.
He heard the orders being yelled, he heard them upping the charge number on the AED.
You could hear Ice sobs even aganist Sarah’s shoulder. But what you couldn’t hear and see was death as it loomed over his daughter.
“Give me another chance God, please”.
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darlingpwease · 1 year
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>:□
Maybe he's trying to shake things up a little bit?? Lol WHAT, ME?!
Yes, maybe, but how long would that take, hm?? I got some Yuuta ideas to share that may dissappear depending on how long we wait 😒 /t /hj
AH– you seriously can go saying things like that akdhskd ...I'm actually really surprised you could catch the tone with out me saying it :0
-panna cotta
HAHAHHAHAHAH sjdgdjgdhdhd</3333 my task is to warn you so that you do not complain again that I use your words against you~ <333 /t
it's no joke, but— only recently I was thinking about the concept of brat!yuuta, who does not know how to be really teasing & annoying, since he is on the extremely serving and obedient side, but tries to provoke you so that you tame him, because he wants to feel how you will punish him,,, and your words unexpectedly fit in...🤨 I have my suspicions and they are not in your favor🤨🤨🤨 /t /hj
of course; the most terrible and naughty panna cotta!!! no one has received gifs with the threat of blocking from me as often as you</333 /hj
who said I'd be waiting? we'll just move on to brainwashing, yandere, mind breaking and dubcon, I'm not one of those who waste time, you know🙄😒
Yuuta and ghost!Reader where he is too withdrawn and lonely while for you he is the only person who sees you, and living as a ghost has definitely spoiled your morals — and the fact that his body is so susceptible to being touched and possessed by him and at the same time safe for you makes everything only worse; druid!Yuuta, who needs the "essence" to live and use his powers, finds a lonely traveler in the forest and really thinks that mating with you is a good idea (he promises to take care of you later... but he really needs to), but is pinned to the ground when it turns out that you are not unconscious at all, but absolutely not against it help him and even keep him for a while, even if he may not be very enthusiastic about it at first — if he is able to at least be aware of something after mating, of course; yandere!Reader who goes crazy because of a too kind & innocent Yuuta and uses a knife during not very consensual sex with a kidnapped Yuuta only to find out that Yuuta is very into the blood, very into the knives and very when you look like you can kill him, almost cumming when you say that you will make sure that he belongs only to you; lamia/slime!Reader in heat who hunts Yuuta and takes him in a deserted place, knowing that no one will help him, promising that you, of course, will take care of his throbbing womb and fill it, not knowing that this is exactly what Yuuta was trying to achieve, being breed by lamia/slime and stuffed with eggs, since both of you are already have you been courting each other for a long time and he wanted to help you, even knowing that this could lead to a mating?🤨🤨🤨 the exchange was made!!! give me your idEAS- /hj
listen, you and I agreed on neck and cheeks, but there were no ears in the contract, so— so there really meant teasing? and then you say you're not a brat?🙄😒 of course I can catch; you're 99% teasing, it's like assuming a fish is breathing in the water🤨 /t /hj
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shop-cailey · 3 months
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PURPLE - WRIST - REST - IS
AGAIN - SUPER - HUGE - SO
DID - NOT - MEASURE - THE
3 ROUNDS - HAS - SOFT HAI
TAPE - WHAT - I'VE - BEEN
WISHING - SO - WILL - YES
MEASURE - 9:35P EST - MALE
MANAGER - OPENED - MY HAI
DOOR - WHERE - I AM - NAKED
SCRUBBING - HE - CALLS - YES
WOMEN - MENTALLY - ILL - A
TRUE - MISOGYNIST - HATRED
AND - ABUSE - OF - FOREIGN
WOMEN - ESPECIALLY - HE
ATTACKED - BECAUSE
SAT - 1P - 5P - AUTHORS
OF - FLORIDA - MEET THEM
HE - WENT - 2 - LUNCH - TO
GO - TOWARDS - MAIN LIBRARY
HE - HAS - BEEN - STALKING ME
LISTENING - HOW - 2 - MURDER
2 - GET - $150 BILLION - NO USD
NOW - OVER - $250 BILLION AS
HOMELESS - BLKS - WENT
CRAZY - BALD - HEAD THAT
LET - TREE - HIT - MY HEAD
ONLY - BOUGHT - BEER - NO
DRINK - 4 - ME - INLOVE AND
MIAMI - POLICE - ALLOWED
PUBLIC - ALCOHOL - DRINK'G
HE - WAS - JUST - CRAZY - SO
THAT's - DONE - MANAGER
WAS - STALKING ME - THUS
WAS - GOING - 2 - BOX - ME
FRIDAY - NIGHT - TGIF TGIF
SINCE - 1941 - WHEELCHAIR
DEMOCRAT - ROOSEVELT
WHO - PUT - AMERICAN
JAPANESE - CONCENTRATION
CAMPS - STARVED - 3 MEALS
A - DAY - FLORIDA - BEGAN
BAKER - ACT
CONCENTRATION - CAMP
4 - EVERYONE - LESS THAN
3 DAYS - 4 - BIRTH CONTROL
PILLS USER - COED - U SEE
SOMEONE - WENT - ALL THE
WAY - WITH - ME - REALLY
I - KNOW - WHO
3RD - DAY - THEY'RE - YES
PREGNANT - PILLS - 2 HAI
HOW - MANY - KIDS THEY
WANT - NOT - 2 - BURN THE
AREA - LIKE - THE - BLK
GYNECOLOGIST - HE WAS
DESCRIBING - BURNING TUBES
I - SCREAMED - SHUT UP
SHOWED - BABIES - IN - THE
WOMB - HE - AIN'T - GIVING 2
50 AND OLDER - HE SMILED
DR MARIA MEJIA - UGLY
HISPANIC - TOPIRAMAX
SEASONIQUE - SAID - NO
2 - THAT - SHE - SAID BIRTH
CONTROL - A - JOKE - SO IS
BONIVA - BONE - DETERIOR -
RATION - PREVENTOR - JUST
ONCE - PER - MONTH - SHE
SAID - USA - PSYCHO - MEDS
NO 1 - SHE - DOESN'T - GIVE
2 - ST JUDE's - SHE SAID - A
SCAM - 1 UGLY - WEIRDO SO
I - TOOK - IT - AND - STOPPED
BLOODFLOW - NO NEED FOR
GYNOCOLOGY - SO - HAPPY
TOPIRAMAX - 50 MG
TODAY - FOOD STAMPS - $67
FEB - 2 - UC - SIGNALS - 2 ME
2 - MANUALLY - APPLY
DO - I - HAVE - PIG - FARM
LAND - 4 - PROFIT - STUPIDS
DO - I - HAVE STOCKS BONDS
I - ALMOST - HAD - A - HEART
ATTACK - 15 MIN - AGO - NOW
I'M - FINE - SUSHI - 4 - ME SO
SINCE - EBT - DOESNT' - GIVE
MONEY - 4 - DELI - FRIED CKN
CHECKING - 13ST - SUSHI
I'M - 2 - WEAK - 2 - GO - 4
INARI - MAYBE - TONIGHT
BECAUSE - MONDAY - NO
FOOD - TONIGHT - RIVER
LANDING - INARI - $7.05
FOUND - ROOT BEER - 0 CAL
IS - ABOVE - IS ONLY - 8 INCH
INSTEAD - OF - 14 INCH HARD
2 - GET - OUT - FOUND - TENT
4 - IT - TRIED - 2 - FING - 4 FT
WIDTH - NO SUCH - THING
SO - 5 FT - LIKE - MINE BUT
LONG - 10 INCHES - MORE
INSTEAD - OF 3 INCH - YES
ABOVE - SUPER EXPENSIVE
ARRIVES - TOMORROW
CAMILLUS HOUSE
THEY KICKED - ME - OUT
THEY - WANTED - 2 - THROW
PACKAGES - ON MY - FACE 2
BATTERY - AND - ASSAULT
LIKE - MY - PHILIPPINE
ADOPTED - FATHER - WAS
WATCHING - LITTLE HOUSE
ON - THE - PRAIRIE - AND HE
GOT - HIS - SLIPPER - AND HIT
MY - HEAD - HOLE ON - FORE
HEAD - TIRED OF - SUBJECT
RAN - 2 - GRANDPA - NO MORE
FUEL - SHOOT - HIM - HAVE TO
GO - 2 - MAKATI MEDICAL CTR
CHARGE - ON - THEM
HE - SHOT - MY - ADOPTED
DAD - TWICE - SO - THERE
ME - HIS - 1ST - GRANDCHILD
THEN - WE - WENT - 2 - PARIS
WHAT - DO - U - WANT - FR
PARIS - GRANDPAPA - HE
TOLD - ME - GOT - HIS THEIR
MACAROONS - NICE - TELL
TEACHERS - WHAT - WENT
ON - GONE - 4 - 3 MONTHS
ABOVE - IS - ONLY - 6 LBS
PUT - IN - SMALL - BAG
OTHER - 15 LBS - DESTROYING
SIDES - OF - TENT - HEAVY
AND - LONG - EASY - 2 - YES
ASSEMBLE - NO - COT - WHY
THOSE - BECOME - FLAT YES
FAST - USING - AIR MAT WITH
MANDATORY - TWIN - FITTED
SHEET - OR - WILL FREEZE U
ABOVE - IS - BEST - INCLUDES
FREE - OVERNIGHT DELIVERY
THE - PRICE - TENT - IS GREEN
75.6 - LENGTH
TENT - 86.5 - INSIDE
MAT - 77 INCH - OVER 9 INCH
LEFT - NICE - ROOM - LEFT
SO - LIKE - GREEN FOREST
0 notes
loveforpreserumsteve · 7 months
Text
Love Grows (demon!Bucky and pre-serum!Steve omegaverse au)
14
AS THE DAYS turned into weeks, Steve started getting nervous. He and Hodge weren't using condoms, he hadn't used suppressants in a good long while now, and still no baby. Steve wanted to scream with how frustrated he was. Hating that when he was young and dumb, he had been relieved – had been glad – whenever a pregnancy scare ended up just being a false alarm.
Why was this so difficult? How did others fall pregnant at the drop of a hat? What were they doing that he wasn't? He had changed his diet almost completely, and was only eating foods that were supposed to help with fertility. He even had Hodge on a special diet too because Steve wasn't going to take any chances.
But it just wasn't happening. His womb was still empty.
And that terrified Steve almost more than it frustrated him.
Congratulations to 12B, welcoming their beautiful daughter Lila into the world.
Letting out a defeated, wounded noise, Steve crumpled up the newsletter and tossed it in the direction of the trashcan. Sure, he was happy for their neighbors, but he wanted that moment for himself. He wanted to welcome an adorable little bundle with Hodge's blond curls and Steve's sky blue eyes. He wanted it so bad that he ground his teeth to the point he tasted blood.
Shoving another handful of pumpkin seeds into his mouth, Steve tried not to think about what could be wrong with his body. It was his fault, right? It couldn't have been Hodge with his perfect health and Grecian physique. It had to be because of something that was wrong with him.
Overwhelmed, Steve's lip started to tremble as tears built in his eyes. Who knew that planning to have a baby would be so difficult? People got pregnant by accident all the time! Steve imagined that the universe was using him as some sick joke.
Needing to get out of the apartment, Steve packed up his things and went for a walk. Hoping to find something that took his mind off of things. Unfortunately – because the universe was an asshole – it seemed like everyone was taking their happy and healthy babies out for a walk before the autumn weather could get too cold.
Taking a seat on a bench, Steve tried to put out all the best energy he could. Wishing that each of those babies had the best lives they could ever ask for. Because they deserved it. Each and every one of them. And maybe, in return, some of that good energy would come back to him.
"Steve?"
Turning, he found Mrs. 12B, Laura Barton. Little Connor on a backpack leash and the new baby in a hand-me-down stroller. Probably the same one that her brother had used before her. Laura made her way over to the bench, pressed the brake down so the stroller didn't roll anywhere, and sat down.
Noticing Steve's red-rimmed eyes, Laura's concern broke through, "Is everything alright?"
Looking at the sleeping Lila, tears started filling Steve's eyes again. He wanted a baby so badly. He wanted to feel that life develop and grow inside of him. He wanted to provide nourishment and nurture them. And then he wanted to take them home, healthy and happy. He wanted to encourage their curiosity and teach them about the world, and raise them to be a good person.
Sniffling, Steve blinked the tears away. Instantly apologizing, "Forgive me, I'm just going through a lot."
"Wanna talk about it?" Laura asked, pulling a small pack of tissues out of the diaper bag. Handing them to Steve, "I'm a good listener."
"Thank you," Steve wiped his face and attempted to discreetly blow his nose. And, well, since Laura was there and offering, Steve admitted, "Hodge and I are trying to have a baby."
"Ah." Laura nodded, understanding. "It took a while for Clint and I too."
"It did?"
"Oh yeah," Laura assured. "We tried everything. Special diets, hormones, IUI, IVF. Anything and everything that we could, we tried."
Hanging on her every word, Steve asked, "So, what happened? What worked?"
"Believe it or not," Laura started, and Steve hoped she didn't say: it happened when we stopped trying. Instead, she continued, "Mrs. Sousa made us a special fertility tea."
Steve's brows furrowed, "And it worked?"
"Worked like a charm. Nine months later – almost nine months exactly – we had Conner. And then Lila."
Despite himself, he could feel his hopes getting too high. Surely, it had to be a placebo effect. Right? There couldn't be a fertility tea that actually worked. Or at least not one that couldn't work that well that fast. If there was, it would be one of the most sought after teas to ever exist. It would render all other options useless.
"I know it sounds crazy – and that's what I thought too when I first heard about it – but it works." Lifting a now crying Lila from the stroller, Laura situated the baby in her arms. "It worked for a few of the other couples in the building, and it worked for my friend, Natasha, and it worked for me. And I'm sure that it would work for you too."
Nodding, Steve attempted to keep his heart from soaring beyond his reach, but he couldn't. If this tea could really help, it'd be stupid not to give it a chance, right? And if it had helped Laura's friend and Laura, then surely it could help Steve, right?
Checking his watch, Steve stood from the bench. Thanking Laura as he left. Nearly running back to Stark Tower so he could talk to his new favorite neighbor. Hoping that she'd be able to whip up some of that special baby tea for him.
Laughing at himself, Steve felt giddy for the first time in almost two months. Feeling as though a weight had been lifted. Feeling like things were finally going to start going his way and not just Hodge's. He knew he should be happy for his husband and the leading role in the mediocre play, and he was, but Steve didn't care if Hodge never got another acting job again as long as it meant he could have his dream. Selfish, yes, but Steve could only think of one thing right now, and that was a baby. His baby.
Arriving at the Tower, Steve greeted the lobby attendants before skipping into the elevator. The closer he got to the twelfth floor, the more excited he got. This was going to work. It had to.
Not even stopping at his own apartment, Steve headed right for 12A. Talking to Peggy was his only concern right now. Hell, if he could have a baby between just him and Peggy in that moment because of some magical tea, he'd open his legs right then and there.
Rapidly knocking at the door, Steve impatiently waited for the door to open. Once it did, it was only enough for the older omega to peek through the crack with the chain still on. She seemed surprised to see Steve there and quickly closed the door so she could get the chain off.
"Are you alright, dear?"
"I need your help."
"Come in, come in," Peggy insisted, opening the door and beckoning Steve into her home. Closing the door, she asked, "Are you in trouble?"
"I heard..." Steve tried to catch his breath, restarted, "I was talking with Laura in 12B."
"Yes?"
Peggy guided Steve down the hallway to the living room, and Steve continued, "She told me about how you helped her."
"Yes?"
"And I was hoping," Steve took a seat, "That you could help me too."
The older omega took a seat across from Steve, listening. A smile tugged at her red lipstick painted lips, "You're talking about the tea."
"I am."
Nodding, Peggy reached across the space to take his hand in hers, "If you're sure."
"I want this more than anything," Steve pleaded, giving her hand a squeeze.
"Alright."
Peggy stood and led the way into the kitchen. Steve was quick to follow. Tripping over his feet in his haste.
Pulling down a vintage tea tin from the cupboard, Peggy went to the small herb garden. As she began pruning, she collected the clippings into the tin. Explaining, "Drink eight ounces twice a day. Once when you wake up and once before bed. Because you're an omega and Laura is a beta, it'll be a little different. You'll have to drink this leading up to your season."
"That's it?"
"Aren't you cute," Peggy giggled. Shaking her head, she continued, "There's a ritual."
"A ritual?" Steve echoed, brows furrowing.
"You'll need to abstain from intercourse leading up to your season. Then, you and Hodge will come here the midnight before your season starts. Hodge will need to have two ounces of his seed in –" she reached up for a glass jar "– this."
Glancing at Steve, she instructed, "You'll need to bring that with you."
Quirking a brow at all of this, Steve asked, "This works?"
"Haven't had any of the babies born from this complain," Peggy winked, going back to her pruning.
In that moment, Steve knew that he'd do anything. He'd even sell his soul to the devil. Just give him a pen, show him the dotted line.
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dragcnsun · 4 years
Text
lu ten will do pretty much anything for zuko + azula
he will not, however, laugh when zuko tries to tell iroh’s old jokes
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wornoutmouse · 3 years
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I saw the cow boy endeavor post and ask you this 🙈 bull!boys possessive over their soft cow gf?? Any mha boys 👀
Referenced smut, blind reader, crack, fluff.
Yall like my cow au’s a lil too much. Is everything okay at home?
Bakugou, Dabi, Shouji
To keep with the cursed cow theme:
Heifer: a young female cow that has not borne a calf.
Also, cows actually have heats and the female will wander and of course, the bull will be aggressive. Just so you’ll know I’m not talking out my ass.
Bakugou (I had too)
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When you first came, I’m going to be real, Katsuki didn’t like your ass. Because you’ve never mated before, Bakugou saw you as extremely weak and he would be damned if he bred you.
When receiving a new heifer, the first rule of business is to slowly but surely introduce the bull to them. To do this, you and Bakugou were placed in a miniature barn with a tall gate in between. 
For the most part, you stayed on your side, opting to sleep the days away on your fluffy bed. Bakugou didn’t care, he was perfectly fine glaring at you from a distance and muttering all the reasons you were weak and how the farmers were stupid.
Something that really irked him was how you always nibbled on your tail in order to focus. “Hey dumbass, quit cannibalizing yourself!” You glanced away from your crossword puzzle and just stared at him. Wrong move.
Moments later the farmers had to quickly come in and restrain Bakugou because he had destroyed his half of the barn by scrapping his large horns against the wooden walls. Everyone was forced to do round just in case Katsuki decided to take his anger out on you.
As the weeks went on, you were moved into barns that were smaller than the last until the small gate between the both of you was removed quickly. During all this time, not once did you speak to him so Bakugou practically glued himself to the edge of the barn, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of walking past him. 
Of course, this petty rivalry was forced to come to the end. Earlier that day, you had wandered past the field so many times that you were locked inside. So when Katsuki awoke to you shuffling along the sides of the barn and throwing hay at his head, he knew your heat was here. 
It took a matter of two hours and annoyance due to the mountain of hay that was on his side as you practically swept your side clean, before Bakugou on the floor pumping his cock into you. There were no words said as your slurred words passed through empty ears. Bakugou’s teeth clenched tightly onto your tail as the last rebuttal on how much he hated you.
“You couldn’t get my attention he old fashion way and ignored me?!” Your tail flicked around as your pleasure heightened. “Well, tonight we are going to see how long you can stay quiet.”
Though his words were harsh, you can’t ignore the fact he willingly fucked you till morning although you were fine with one load.
Dabi
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Dabi was one of the many bulls on the ranch that was specifically bred to breed. However his abnormally large horns made other cows afraid of him, of course, that was until you appeared. 
You, for a lack of better words, were blind. You had been shipped from a ranch that was going through bankruptcy, and your new owners saw this as a perfect chance. 
You were immediately put in the vicinity of Dabi. For about 3 days, Dabi would watch you trail your hands along the dewy grass, occasionally eating a few pieces. On the fourth day, Dabi stood in front of you with pursed lips.
“Why are you staring at me?!” Dabi visibly flinched, leaning away from you. “I thought you were blind?” You nodded, chewing softly on a dandelion, “I am blind, but I can see shadows, and yours is really blocking my light.” 
Dabi sputtered, plopping down next to you. You laughed as you could hear him pouting as he too grabbed some grass.
Dabi deeply enjoyed your comfort as he couldn’t get any from his father who was mysteriously out of commission. He would ask you curious questions about your blindness and in return, you asked him what certain things looked like. “Every time I ask people, their answers always vary.”
You held such a close place in his heart that Dabi wanted to breed you sooner rather than later. “I don’t want you to be out of your mind during your heat and I don’t want to be too rough with you.”
Despite this confession, Dabi couldn’t help but force you to make the sweetest of sounds. “You like that?” His scared hand smacks your bouncing bottom as you grip the cotton bed below you. “Oh, please yes!” Watching you bounce above him, made him crave the sweet relief he would feel once he came deep inside of you. 
Shouji
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For the most part, all the caretakers considered it a lost cause when they roomed you with Shouji. He was lame and was too large to be moved so he spent more of his life in the very barn he was born in. Pitiful eyes would always peek through his stall. 
“All those legs and not a single one works, God must be playing a cruel joke.”
It was only a matter of time before Mezzo would be shipped off to the butcher but hey, maybe they could get one good calf out of him. That’s where you came in. Though you were a simple cow, long past your youth, you were the only cow the same size, if not larger than him. This upper hand meant you could move him around and wouldn’t need his help with mounting him yourself.
Since you weren’t new to this rodeo, the farmhands expected you to get straight to work. But no, you waited. During each meal, you’d help him feed himself, his limp libs hung to his side as you held his head up. 
Every day, you’d ask him if he was ready, and he’d give you the honest answer of no, so you would leave it at that. But on the day of his heat, you couldn’t stand to hear him grunt angrily, from the lack of stimulation. 
You edged close to him cautiously and softly palmed his cock. The euphoric look on his face was one that reassured you your actions were not unwanted. You rubbed his brown tip softly between your fingers, listening t the soft gasps he released. Pleading eyes looked at you and your large figure.
“P-Please, I need you so bad!” You hurriedly sat on top of him, careful to not settle all your weight down as you coaxed his dick inside of you. Although he was unable to help you, the feeling of him stretching your womb was like fresh honey.
Months later, Shouji was still sitting in his barn stuck in his own head. A faint knock on the door alerted him of your presence and he shuffled his way into a sitting position. In you, walked with a calf shyly holding your hand. “There’s your daddy.”
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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years
Note
Hey!! Could we please get more sugar daddy fics with a black reader ofc 😋 idk if you've done shoto already but that'd be nice or hawks and deku💕
A/N: “wrist on glitter, waist on thinner, imma show you how to bag a eight-figure nigga” 👅💋 I enjoyed this way too much
All characters are 18+
Warnings: it got a lil spicy so imma put the line 
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Todoroki Shouto:
this mf has money to burn 
we all know todoroki came out the womb w cash from his hair to his ass 
he’s on some “yes, jeff bezos knows me” type shit so if you’re tryna end up with someone that’s gonna possibly buy you a house, he’s your guy 
he slid into your dms after you posted a pic with your skin moisturized and glistening under golden hour and your body had him wanting to run laps 
he had been plottin on you for a min but never got the motivation to do something about it until then
he’s a no strings attached type of sugar daddy
todoroki is a big name even outside of hero work and he’s well aware of all the people that have tried to use him. so instead of letting that happen, he’s decided to do things on his own terms 
when yall first started talking, he questioned you like this was managerial position at apple 💀 
best believe he ran an in-depth background check and made you sign an NDA 💀💀💀
he was a tough one
but you passed w flying colors and y’all settled on an arrangement
you have a weekly allowance that hits your bank account every saturday with some bonuses that he’ll give you depending on how the week goes
todoroki isnt needy nor is he one to be all up in your business 
it’s actually weird in an endearing kind of way? 
he only wants to have conversations with you 
i mean, dont get me wrong, he’s up for anything you are
todoroki would be a liar if he said he never ended some nights with a picture of you and a hand down his pants 
but that’s not what he’s mainly looking for 
you figure out very quickly that shouto just wants someone to talk to 
he’ll randomly hit up your phone and have a 30 min convo about something like the weather or hero politics, and then he’ll dip
next thing you know, you got $1000 in your cashapp
you kind of panicked bc like...wtf? 
your dumb ass messaged him: “did you mean to send $1000?”
sis, dont put a question mark where God put a period
him: “Yes.”
and that was the end of that
you dont question anymore
he’s not doting in any kind of way, and sometimes you lowkey think he forgets about you, but you still get your allowance 
doesn’t send a lot of gifts unless you explicitly state you want something
he doesnt text back a lot, but he tried to respond when he can
but i do see him liking it when you send him mundane things you do throughout your day, like pics of cookies you baked, or a cool plant you saw at home depot
and he enjoys the times you and him end up just trashing his father for nearly an hour. expect to find flowers, with some expensive ass coats or something at your door the next morning 
he really fucks w your laid back vibe 
sometimes he forgets you guys arent really supposed to be friends 
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Takami Kiego (Hawks):
this is not hawks’ first time being a sugar daddy
he’s hot, rich, and one of the most eligible bachelor’s in japan with a life that prevents him from having anything too serious
so, long story short, he’s a veteran at this 
he used to be the type to reach out to instagram baddies but he had a couple bad run-ins and decided to stick with the official sites because it was a lot more secure on both ends 
the funny thing was, you set up your account a long time ago as a joke. though at one point, you did take it seriously, but you came in contact with a lot of super creepy men that sexualized you for your skin and ethnicity. 
you were tired of the “chocolate king/queen” and “amazonian god/dess” comments,so you took a break. you didnt have much activity since
so imagine youre surprise when the #2 hero hit your line talking about some 
“Hey~ I’ll get straight to the point. I think you’re beautiful and I’d like to talk with you about an arrangement” 
you thought this was a fake account, but after he chatting for a little and sending some pictures, you knew he was the real deal 
hawks is your standard tit-for-tat transaction sugar daddy
he’s the type to hit you up at night with a “how ya doing, dove? got any pics for me?”
he’s good about his respect ad won’t do anything out of line
it’s the bare minimum, be he doesnt fetishize you so that’s always nice 
however, he does make you call him daddy, sir, etc. whether it’s through text, call, or when y’all get together for...reasons
ngl his dicc game is fire
he might ghost you for a week or so but he’ll always come back with a nice check to make up for it 
just be careful about catching feelings bc he’s so fucking smooth. he makes you feel like you’ve got his heart, but dont fall for that shit
if you think you can “change him” or fuflfil whatever wattpad romance fantasy lives in your head, he is not your guy. you better get on w your life before you get your heart broken
he’s here to suck, fuck, send pics, do a little phone call here n there, send some money, and go 
if you’re not with all that, you might as well dip 
but if you’re cool with that, rest assured, you’re gonna be living your best mf life with this man in your wallet 
and good news, you might not be his only, but you are his favorite
there’s just something about you that’s got him giving you a few extra thousand than he normally does 
he doesnt take his sugar babies on proper dates bc he’s gotta stay away from media outlets, but he will invite you to his office for a “lunch break”
if you ever surprise him with a cute but sexy hawks cosplay, you won’t have to work for two whole weeks bc you cant walk  
overall, he’s a good sugar daddy. defintely good for your pockets and any other non-romantic desires you want fulfilled
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Mirodirya Izuku:  
the way you two met and came to this arrangement was more or less an accident
the life of the number one pro-hero was lonely and stressful 
he’s tried to dip his toes in the water here and there, but it never worked out because not many people could deal with the fact that he’d always put hero work first
he was teetering on the edge of signing up for one of those sugar daddy/baby websites until he met you at some cafe he passed by 
it’s cliche really. you were his server and, honestly? he was hooked on day one 
he watched you intently as you pranced around in your cute uniform. he couldnt stop admiring your brown skin and eyes and how cute your hair was. you spoke with such enthusiasm and cheerfulness that he couldnt help but swoon. and it didn’t hurt that you were very easy on the eyes
he listened to you as you went on a spiel about how college was a fortune and how you stayed up last night for a project bc you had to pick up extra shifts
that’s when he made his decision
by the time the hero is out of the door, you collected the reciept and almost fainted when you realized he left you a $500 tip and his personal number 
“i enjoyed talking to you today and i hope we can continue that...here’s something small to help with your bills. and i hope this isnt too forward but you’re very beautiful. stay safe. deku.”
and what did you do that night?
you called his ass right back
you were nervous as hell bc you still couldnt believe this was real, but after talking on the phone with him for two hours, an arrangement was set
midoriya is the most gentlemen like sugar daddy out there 
you wake up to good morning texts and a few hundred in your bank account almost every two days 
he goes crazy over your insta posts. and if you wear something green? expect a bonus
takes you out shopping unprovoked 
izuku: “are you busy? i saw you were having a rough week and was wondering if you wanted to go to that new outlet mall downtown”
you: 🏃🏾‍♀️💨  
you most certainly had homework due that night but what tf you look like missing out on that offer? 
it’s after so many “dates” that deku realizes that he prefers hanging around you more than he should but he doesnt wanna ruin anything so he keeps that underwraps 
he’s the idiot that goes into this thinking he won’t fall in love
deku defintely has some dirty thoughts about you but he doesnt try to bring it up unless you do first
if you’re comfortable with anything nsfw, you gone see a whole different side to izuku
he’s a giver, giver, giver, but when he recieves, he just about loses it
send him “innocent” pics of yourself matched with a string of filthy texts and he’ll combust 
when you send him pics of yourself in deku-themed lingre, he deadass sends you a whole black card with your name on it as a thank you
you guys get very comfortable with each other very quickly
soon enough, DA’s start turning into y/n stayng over for a week 
you both realize this relatiosnhip runs a lot deeper than an arrangement when he accidentally let it slip that he told his mom about you 
he’s profusely apologizing but you shut him up with a kiss and tell him that you’ve kinda caught feelings yourself 
your next conversation works out well for the both of you 
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firstfullmoon · 4 years
Note
what are some quotes that are so visceral they feel like a gut punch to you?
“A man's heart is a wretched, wretched thing. It isn't like a mother's womb. It won't bleed. It won't stretch to make room for you.”
— Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns
“At the trial of God, we will ask: why did you allow all this? And the answer will be an echo: why did you allow all this?”
— Ilya Kaminsky, “A City Like a Guillotine Shivers on Its Way to the Neck”
“I want someone to tell me what to wear in the morning. I want someone to tell me what to wear every morning. I want someone to tell me what to eat, what to like, what to hate, what to rage about, what to listen to, what band to like, what to buy tickets for, what to joke about, what not to joke about. I want someone to tell me what to believe in, who to vote for, and who to love, and how to tell them. I just think I want someone to tell me how to live my life, Father, because so far I think I’ve been getting it wrong.”
— Phoebe Waller-Bridge, from Fleabag
“Les femmes de notre famille, nous sommes engluées dans la colère J’ai été en colère contre ma mère Tout comme tu es en colère contre moi Et tout comme ma mère fut en colère contre sa mère Il faut casser le fil.”
(The women in our family are all stuck in anger I have been angry at my mother As you are angry with me And as my mother was angry at her mother The thread must be broken.)
— Wajdi Mouawad, Incendies
“I know what I want: an ugly, clean woman with large breasts, who tells me: what’s all this about making things up? I won’t have any dramas, come here immediately!—And she gives me a warm bath, dresses me in a white linen nightdress, braids my hair and puts me to bed, very cross, saying: well what do you want? you run wild, eating at odd times, you could get sick, stop making up tragedies, you think you’re such a big deal, drink this mug of hot broth. She lifts my head up with her hand, covers me with a big sheet, brushes a few strands of hair off my forehead, already white and fresh, and tells me before I fall asleep warmly: you’ll see how in no time your face is going to fill out, forget those harebrained ideas and be a good girl. Someone who takes me in like a humble dog, who opens the door for me, brushes me, feeds me, loves me severely like a dog, that’s all I want, like a dog, a child.”
“I can feel myself holding a child, thought Joana. Sleep, my child, sleep, I tell you. The child is warm and I am sad. But it is the sadness of happiness, this appeasement and sufficiency that leave the face placid, faraway. And when my child touches me he doesn’t rob me of my thoughts as others do. But later, when I give him milk with these fragile, beautiful breasts, my child will grow from my force and crush me with his life. He will distance himself from me and I will be the useless old mother. I won’t feel cheated. But defeated merely and I will say: I don’t know a thing, I am able to give birth to a child and I don’t know a thing. God will receive my humility and will say: I was able to give birth to the universe and I don’t know a thing.”
— Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart
“I know that my phrases are crude, I write them with too much love, and that love makes up for their faults, but too much love is bad for the work.”
“I’m restless and harsh and despairing. Although I do have love inside me. I just don’t know how to use love. Sometimes it tears at my flesh.”
“But when winter comes I give and give and give. The excess of me starts to hurt and when I’m excessive I have to give of myself.”
— Clarice Lispector, Água Viva
“And that was what I felt when reading your book: that solitude.” “Imagine the solitude of the person who wrote it.”
— Clarice Lispector, from an interview
“suppose the body did this to us, made us afraid of love—”
— Louise Glück, “Crater Lake”
“When I put my hands on your body, on your flesh, I feel the history of that body. Not just the beginning of its forming in that distant lake, but all the way beyond its ending. I feel the warmth and texture and simultaneously I see the flesh unwrap from the layers of fat and disappear. I see the fat disappear from the muscle. I see the muscle disappearing from around the organs and detaching itself from the bones. I see the organs gradually fade into transparency, leaving a gleaming skeleton, gleaming like ivory that slowly resolves until it becomes dust. I am consumed in the sense of your weight, the way your flesh occupies momentary space, the fullness of it beneath my palms. I am amazed at how perfectly your body fits to the curves of my hands. If I could attach our blood vessels so we could become each other I would. If I could attach our blood vessels in order to anchor you to the earth, to this present time, I would. If I could open up your body and slip inside your skin and look out your eyes and forever have my lips fused with yours, I would. It makes me weep to feel the history of your flesh beneath my hands in a time of so much loss. It makes me weep to feel the movement of your flesh beneath my palms as you twist and turn over to one side to create a series of gestures, to reach up around my neck, to draw me nearer. All these memories will be lost in time like tears in the rain.”
— David Wojnarowicz, from The Half-Life
“A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.”
— Gillian Flynn, Sharp Objects
“and cain said, There’s an idea I can’t get out of my head, What’s that, said abraham, There must have been innocent people in sodom and in the other cities that were burned, If so, the lord would have kept the promise he made to make to save their lives, What about the children, said cain, surely the children were innocent, Oh my god, murmured abraham and his voice was like a groan, Yes, your god perhaps, but not theirs.”
— José Saramago, Cain
“I’d like to jet-ski / straight out of this life because right now I am / way attached to real things like for instance / people how they are all so tender how they / love to just go walk around and someof them are / wearing pink now and it hurts me and they / bathe their dogs”
— Heather Christle, “This Is Not The Body I Asked For”
“The idea of deserving love. And then watching love being given to people who did nothing to deserve it.”
— Anaïs Nin, from her journal
“And he cries and cries, cries for everything he has been, for everything he might have been, for every old hurt, for every old happiness, cries for the shame and joy of finally getting to be a child, with all of a child’s whims and wants and insecurities, for the privilege of behaving badly and being forgiven, for the luxury of tendernesses, of fondnesses, of being served a meal and being made to eat it, for the ability, at last, at last, of believing a parent’s reassurances, of believing that to someone he is special despite all his mistakes and hatefulness, because of all his mistakes and hatefulness.”
— Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life
“The veals are the children of cows, are calves. They are locked in boxes the size of themselves. A body-box, like a coffin, but alive, like a home. The children, the veal, they stand very still because tenderness depends of how little the world touches you. To stay tender, the weight of your life cannot lean on your bones.”
“Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined.”
— Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous
“I know we’ve just met but I feel like maybe / you’d feed me and tuck me into your big bed / and only touch me as you covered me with the comforter.”
— Kim Addonizio, “Party”
“The body has no thoughts. The body soaks up love like a paper towel
and is still dry.”
— Kim Addonizio, “Body And Soul”
“I don’t know how God can bear / seeing everything at once: the falling bodies, the monuments and burnings, / the lovers pacing the floors of how many locked hearts.”
— Kim Addonizio, “The Numbers”
“I keep wishing for you, keep shutting up my eyes and looking toward the sky, asking with all my might for you, and yet you do not come. I thought of you, until the world grew rounder than it sometimes is, and I broke several dishes.”
— Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Minnie Holland
“The unknowness of my needs frightens me. I do not know how huge they are, or how high they are, I only know that they are not being met.”
— Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit
“I used to be a hopeless romantic. I am still a hopeless romantic. I used to believe that love was the highest value. I still believe that love is the highest value. I don’t expect to be happy. I don’t imagine that I will find love, whatever that means, or that if I do find it, it will make me happy. I don’t think of love as the answer or the solution. I think of love as a force of nature - as strong as the sun, as necessary, as impersonal, as gigantic, as impossible, as scorching as it is warming, as drought-making as it is life-giving. And when it burns out, the planet dies.”
“As for myself, I am splintered by great waves. I am coloured glass from a church window long since shattered. I find pieces of myself everywhere, and I cut myself handling them.”
— Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping
“I SAID I LOVED YOU AND I WANTED GENOCIDE TO STOP I SAID I LOVED YOU AND I WANTED AFFIRMATIVE ACTION AND REACTION I SAID I LOVED YOU AND I WANTED MUSIC OUT THE WINDOWS I SAID I LOVED YOU AND I WANTED NOBODY THIRST AND NOBODY NOBODY COLD I SAID I LOVED YOU AND I WANTED I WANTED JUSTICE UNDER MY NOSE”
— June Jordan, “Intifada Incantation: Poem 38 for b.b.L.”
“Maybe when I wake up in the middle of the night I should go downstairs dump the refrigerator contents on the floor and stand there in the middle of the spilled milk and the wasted butter spread beneath my dirty feet writing poems writing poems maybe I just need to love myself myself and anyway I’m working on it”
— June Jordan, “Free Flight”
“It’s not that I gave away my keys. / The problem is nobody wants to steal me or my / house.”
— June Jordan, “Onesided Dialog”
“What reconciles me to my own death more than anything else is the image of a place: a place where your bones and mine are buried, thrown, uncovered, together. They are strewn there pell-mell. One of your ribs leans against my skull. A metacarpal of my left hand lies inside your pelvis. (Against my broken ribs your breast like a flower.) The hundred bones of our feet are scattered like gravel. It is strange that this image of our proximity, concerning as it does mere phosphate of calcium, should bestow a sense of peace. Yet it does. With you I can imagine a place where to be phosphate of calcium is enough.”
— John Berger, And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief As Photos
“I wept and wept. I had come to believe that if I really wanted something badly enough, the very act of my wanting it was an assurance that I would not get it.”
— Audre Lorde, from “Zami: A New Spelling of my Name”
“You kiss the back of my legs and I want to cry. / Only the sun has come this close, only the sun.”
— Shauna Barbosa, “GPS”
“It has to be perfect. It has to be irreproachable in every way. (...) To make up for it. To make up for the fact that it’s me.”
— Suzanne Rivecca
“I hope it’s love. I’m trying really hard to make it love. I said no more severity. I said it severely and slept through all my appointments. I clawed my way into the light but the light is just as scary. I’d rather quit. I’d rather be sad.”
— Richard Siken, Self-Portrait Against Red Wallpaper
“We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven, which brings us back to the hero's shoulders and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.”
— Richard Siken, “Snow And Dirty Rain”
“Love, for you, / is larger than the usual romantic love. It's like a religion. It's / terrifying. No one / will ever want to sleep with you.”
— Richard Siken, “Litany In Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out”
“The hardest thing still remains. It remains the hardest, to bear all the tenderness and only to gaze on.”
— Ilse Achinger, “Mirrorstory”
“i killed a plant once because i gave it too much water. lord, i worry that love is violence.”
— José Olivarez, “Getting Ready to Say I Love You to My Dad, It Rains”
“Mother says there are locked rooms inside all women; kitchen of lust, bedroom of grief, bathroom of apathy. Sometimes the men - they come with keys, and sometimes, the men - they come with hammers.”
— Warsan Shire, “The House”
“I’ll take care of you. / It’s rotten work. / Not to me. Not if it’s you.”
— Euripides, Orestes, tr. Anne Carson
“We have this deep sadness between us and it spells so habitual I can’t tell it from love.”
— Anne Carson, The Beauty of the Husband
“There is no question I am someone starving. There is no question I am making this journey to find out what that appetite is.”
— Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays
“I wish I could peel all my sadness in one long strip off my skin & toss it in a bucket. No one would have to carry it. It would just sit there & be punished. It would just sit there & think about everything it’s done.”
— Chen Chen, “Elegy For My Sadness”
“There is too much or not enough room in my stomach for everything we will do to each other.“
— Adriana Cloud, “Bento Body”
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bigskydreaming · 3 years
Text
Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go. 
(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).
Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.
In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil
“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”
Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).
“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”
The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.
But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.
“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”
Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”
“My what?”
“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.
“Huh?”
“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”
He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.
“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”
Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....
“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”
He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.
“Listen, you - “
“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”
“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”
Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.
“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”
The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you. 
For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her  themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.
Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome. 
“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”
She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.
He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.
“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”
His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.
He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”
Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”
“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”
She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”
“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”
The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?
Jason sighed gustily. 
“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”
The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.
“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”
Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”
He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.
“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.
She ignored him, because of course she did. 
“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.
“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”
Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.
“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”
She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?
“What’s this all about anyway?”
“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”
Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.
“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking  his whole foot in his mouth.
“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”
She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.
“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”
Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.
Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.
“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”
Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.
“What are you doing?” Cass asked.
“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?
“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”
Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.
“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”
She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.
“What?”
Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame. 
“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”
“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”
Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”
Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.
“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.
“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”
Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.
“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”
Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later. 
TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?
TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.
TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.
TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?
TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.
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What If...? IV // Alive!Luke Patterson
Summary: 1997 and 1998 are big years for Luke Patterson and his fiancée with their engagement and wedding planning. If you thought wedding planning and the wedding itself was the big things well, you’d be wrong. I mean this is the couple that almost ended with a car accident. Join the year long adventure.
Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, minor angst, sweet groom!Luke, and fluff
Words: 3.3k
Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog. There is one more part after this. 🥺😭
A/N: It’s finally here! The Patterson-Y/L/N wedding makes its appearance here and a little cameo of a future character. The next part is the last part in the miniseries as well. Enjoy.
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Masterlist
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Hollywood 1997
An entire year had flown by from the day of your engagement to Luke filled with frustration, elation and greatness. Sunset Curve toured around California, leaving the Y/L/N-Patterson women to plan the wedding. Nineteen years old now in the modestly sized apartment, Luke sat beside you in the bathroom.
Two nervous teenagers a mere month away from their wedding day they cuddled each other eyes pinned at the floor. Apprehensive of the stick that held power to change everything in their lives. For the last week, you hadn’t felt very well with being tired and nausea laying you out in bed.
“It’s been long enough.” Luke murmured reaching for the test, “No matter what. I love you.”
Kissing his cheek, the two of you slumped at the negative with surprising emotion. The negative greatly disappointed you.
“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbled to his fiancée equally torn up because while the timing wasn’t perfect, he had pictured what life would be like.
A tiny baby growing in his fiancée womb, growing into bump made flutters in his belly. Of love, he already felt for your future unborn children and snuggling his kids. Introducing them to his loved ones and bonding over music. Teaching his son or daughter how to play the guitar.
He’d love to see his parents cradle a new addition to the family freshly born with the tiny knit hat Emily couldn’t resist making. Sharing a celebratory beer with his father and wisdom for the coming years. To learn the parental reason of why they had been against his career choice.
“I really wanted it to be positive.” You admitted playing with your fingers disappointed at being wrong about your body. Luke smiled as your words as he grabbed your hand in his calloused grip.
“Do you…do you want to try for a baby?” Luke trailed off flushing at how beautiful you would look growing his child. The bathroom was quiet as you thought the idea over, “With the tour just finishing the band will be writing music and recording. I could be here for the whole pregnancy and birth.”
“If we get pregnant in the next month. But we’re also getting married in a few months.” You sighed leaning to rest about his bare arm staring at the pregnancy test.
“If it happens then it happens.” Luke spoke, “If you want, we can try.”
Raising your eyes to meet Luke’s you hesitantly nodded at his words as it settled that is there ever a perfect time to get pregnant? So many people struggle with conception like your parents did with you; your mother’s labour was so complicated that you’d never have siblings.
“Okay.” Luke breathed, standing up to scoop you into his arms, “Best get on with it.”
The laughter filled the simple bedroom as Luke crawled over your body to hover with a matching smile. There was no one else in the world that could get his heart fluttering and focus on something other than music. It was terrific, and he couldn’t be mad about.
“So, Rockstar…are you gonna help?” You whispered tugging on the chain of his necklace to drag his face closer. Closing the distance, Luke’s lips brushed yours before time stopped in a collision of senses.
The callouses of his fingers trailing a fire under the flowing shirt chosen for the lunch date earlier. The warmth of his hands nowhere close enough to match the heat your body burnt with. The taste of the cherry chapstick he shamelessly stole from you, but it was the heady scent of Luke that got you.
 Luke heavily breathed as he pulled back with a hazy gaze with the green almost overtaken by the black pupils. No hesitation as your lips sucked on his neck, bringing a gravelly moan from the man over you, a sound that caused your lower half to clench. Legs unable to fully close as his fingers drew symbols on your inner thigh.
Symbols that spelt out his full name. Now that was really hot.
A gasp pulled from your throat you arched as a hand came up to cup your breast in his hand; Luke could argue all he wanted, but he was boob man when it came to you.
Thoughts disappearing the ecstasy with the love of your life overtook your senses.
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July 1998
The white dress was a little snugger than the previous month, but you had a good reason for it. A tiny little blob had taken up residence in your womb with a sickness that lasts all day from day one until the start of trimester two. Getting pregnant had to be easy with Luke from the number of times.
Didn’t matter where you were when Luke tugged you away. The small bathroom in the studio? Three times.
Luke’s couch? Yeah, Alex refuses to sit there now.
At this point, you had been everywhere, trying for a baby was incredibly fun, but the hormones sucked. Luke’s deft fingers creating the chords of a song? Bobby banned you from rehearsals, and you had an emergency bag of clothes as well.
“You look gorgeous.” Nancy Y/L/N told her daughter with tears glittering in her eyes as she took in the sight of her daughter. The wedding dress the bridesmaids, mother’s and Alex had hunted for; the boy had tagged along as he was like a brother. Reggie, Bobby and Luke had spent the day with Mitch and Lance.
A sob broke from the lips of Lance; his baby girl no longer needed him with her soon to be husband. There was no one in the world he trusted more with his daughter than Luke Patterson. The boy never placed the band ahead of his fiancée, and it was quickly noticed how much Luke adored the Y/L/N girl.
“Dad.” You spoke, rushing to hug the man in your arms, “Stop crying. You’ll make me cry.”
Lance was able to hold his tears until the music started and the doors opened to the venue that Luke’s parents married in. Luke stood at the altar with Bobby, Alex, and Reggie. On the opposite side stood your best friend, a childhood friend and your close cousin.
“You look beautiful,” Dad told you slowly making their way to the man cupping his hands over his face. Overtaken by your beauty and the glow, Luke thanked Lance.
“Baby, you look like an Angel,” Luke whispered, squeezing your hands tightly in his as the ceremony began.
“It’s rare that one can find their soulmate, the other half of themselves on such a large plant. Luke and Y/N orbited each other as young children and fell in love in a perfect place. For those of you who don’t know, these two met as a concert. The first step to falling in love. Music is important to this couple.” The officiant spoke, “Luke’s mother told me once that music tethered their souls together, they truly met at a concert, and every important moment had a song.”
Luke’s eyes watered meeting the brown of his mother’s love-filled eyes holding hands with her husband. Luke had no clue how much his mother came to accept, and he felt the relationship fully fix itself as it settled that his Mom had personally made the ceremony better.
 “These two souls came together and became one. Luke and Y/N’s love is rare and beautiful. Today these two had decided to make their own vows.” The officiant finished, “Luke if you could start.”
“There has always music in my heart and soul since childhood. I adored listening and begging my parents for new music. My parents, one year, gave me a guitar as a gift, and it started a deep passion in my soul. I made a band with my best friends, and the band brought me to a person that would become more important. Y/N, I had had a crush on you for a long time before you first spoke to me. I had hit Reggie in the calf with my father’s car, and you made a joke about my height. It wouldn’t be until years later than I somehow convinced you to take a chance.” Luke squeezed your hands, “I love music because it brought me to you.”
“Luke. I am absolutely positive that I have loved you for more than this lifetime as my love is so vast and deep. I believe we have been destined since the dawn of time to find each other together by music. I can’t compete with your vows because you have a way with words with the songwriting you’ve done. You’ve been there through the hard times and best times holding my hand ready to catch me if I fell. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives catching each other when we need it.”
“May the rings be presented?” The officiant asked with a smile as your best friend and Alex gave the rings.
“With this ring, I thee wed,” Luke whispered as he slid the band to rest against your engagement ring. You repeated the words as you slid the band on his finger as well.
“I now pronounce you as man and wife. Mr. Patterson, you may kiss your wife.” The officiant spoke, sending the room into applause.
You and Luke ran down the aisle still holding hands with the biggest smiles of your entire life to the limo that would deliver you to the reception. Luke couldn’t help himself as he pressed kisses all over. This was a glorious day for the musician, his career was going really well, and he married the most beautiful girl.
“God, I love you.” Luke murmured to the girl in the white dress. Leaning closer for another kiss, Luke froze.
Digging into his ankle was a heavy object. Your nervous eyes glittered under the dimmed lighting in the limo. Never-ending eye contact Luke lifted a moderately heavy wooden chalkboard. Written on the sign was: ‘Unofficial flower girl or ring bearer’.
“Are you serious?” Luke asked gobsmacked at the news that heightened the greatness of his wedding day. Eyes flickering to meet yours he watched as your hand unzipped a hidden pocket on your dress.
Flat on your hand was a pregnancy test similar to the one you took months back. The only difference being this one had two lines.
“AS serious as a heart attack. There will be a baby Patterson in six months.” The laugh was joyful as your lips parted.
Luke wasted absolutely no time in setting his hand on the slight bump the dress had covered, “This is why you mentioned your dress being snugger?”
“Mhm.” You replied, stroking the softness of his cheekbone in pure love with him and the life you carried, “We’re in for a wild ride Patterson.”
“Bring it on.” Luke finished kissing your cheek as the limo came to a stop in front of a large venue. The duo you ran inside where your wedding guests threw paper airplanes that Reggie had suggested.
Each airplane had a personal note from your friends and family along that would be gathered into a binder. Reggie had found out that rice wasn’t good for birds and while the reception was inside, he couldn’t do it. So, he brought the idea of paper airplanes; in class, the boys would throw airplanes at each other. It was a nod to their adolescence.
“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Patterson,” Alex announced into the microphone set on the stage with Sunset Curve’s instruments. It didn’t surprise anyone that the band would play at the wedding.
On the stage, a beautiful Hispanic woman played a soft piano ballad, if you could recall that maybe the bartender from the Orpheum. Her name was on the tip of your tongue as Luke twirled you into his arms with a big grin.
“Mrs. Patterson.” You hummed tugging him to the head table with where your wedding party would join as well. The second Luke helped you sit he knelt down to reach the box covertly placed.
Your eyebrows came together as he opened it, revealing two matching pairs of personalized vans; following the wedding theme one pair was white and another black. On the right shoe, it had ‘just married’ with the wedding date while the left shoe had a picture from your engagement pictures. Of course, Luke made them have Mr. and Mrs. above the image as well.
“How?” You breathed as Luke gently removed your heels to replace them with a thin pair of no-show socks. Over the socks went the white vans that gave your feet a break from the four-inch heels.
“We’re supposed to party now.” Luke beamed squeezing your hands in his only bending to kiss the back of each. His hazel eyes had shifted to a rich green as he stared up at yours with such a tender look, you could feel the heat building in your cheeks.
As your wedding party took their seats, Luke had already changed his shoes and pushed the box back under the table. His left hand refused to leave your right one as you both took in the magical room that had once only been a concept on paper.
“This is amazing.” You breathed leaning into Luke’s arm, sending a smile to the table near the front with both your parents, “Also thank you for the shoe surprise.”
 “I am so happy they got done on time.” Luke sighed slouching in his seat, waving at the photographer you had hired.
If you can recall correctly, Luke had met him at a band photoshoot, and he was the assistant to the head photographer. You believe his name was Ray and incredibly talented and under-appreciated by his former boss.
“Did you let the photographer know we have an open bar?” You leaned over to your new husband with a flutter in your belly at his new title. The question turned the corners of Luke’s mouth for the first time that day.
“I find it unfair that we have an open bar and we can’t drink anything.” Luke snorted nudging Reggie in his side.
“Oh, I think we both know you’ll sneak some for the guys and you.” You chuckled leaning back in the chair. One hand resting on your stomach to caress the material with your thumb, unaware, “I’ll stick to the sparkling juice.”
Luke’s one eyebrow raised at the sudden change in your drink choice as in the past you wouldn’t turn down your favourite. His eyes shifted down to your hand with raised eyebrows.
“Wait…are you…?” Luke drawled out slowly in your ear taken aback when your head in a surreptitious manner. His jaw unhinged mind opened as he took in the tiny bump; in the years together, he was very acquainted with your body.
“We are. How cliché are we?” You laughed as Luke lunged to press a kiss to the supple skin lightly painted with foundation.
Your makeup was natural and straightforward to last longer for photos and make it through the dances for later. It was also Luke’s favourite look.
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Dinner, the dances and speeches had sped by ending with both the bouquet toss and the garter toss. The guests mingled with the newlyweds as some danced, Emily had managed to drag Luke back on the floor.
“I’m proud of you, Luke.” Emily smiled up at her son, “And you said those dance lessons were a waste of time.”
A light pink flush took over the nineteen-year old’s full cheeks reminiscing the lessons he had taken with his mother. He had been eleven or twelve at the time when his father pulled a muscle at the worst time. The coupons nearly expiration Emily took Luke to the lessons that initially had been for date night.
“I think it helped with singing-“Luke instinctively cut himself off as he had done years before when music was a no go subject, “Sorry you don-“
“Luke, I can never explain how sorry I am about what happened. I was wrong to push you into a box you didn’t fit. Music is a part of you, and I understand now.” Emily squeezed the bicep of the guitarist, “Besides you’ll understand where we were coming from in a couple months.”
Luke’s jaw dropped at her announcement, “What.”
“Luke, I am a mother. I know the signs such as your wife turning down the wine.” Emily admitted stepping back from the boy that had so suddenly become a man before her very eyes.
No longer was he the chubby-cheeked boy running naked from his bath after splattering spaghetti sauce on himself. He had outgrown his interest in soccer and baseball with his little friends. He had matured into a man that lived up to Emily’s teachings. Luke, in her eyes, was now a man of honour, integrity, kindness and stood up for himself.
Emily and Mitch Patterson had done a fantastic job raising their son, but now they could step back. They would get to watch Luke find his way as a husband and a father.
“Hey, man,” Reggie spoke as Luke walked off the dance floor finding you among family congratulating the couple.
“Hey, Reg.” Luke beamed tugging the bassist into his arms for a tight hug. As the two boys leaned back, they looked over at their friend.
Alex discarded the pink suit jacket at the table in favour of leaning against the wall talking with the bartender. A smile blossomed on the two men’s faces as they took in that Alex was utterly relaxed in the conversation.
“They were hardcore flirting.” Reggie piped up, referencing the male bartender, “His name is Billy, I think.”
The bartender had shoulder-length dark hair pulled back in a bun with glittering brown eyes drowning in the shy blonde. He wore a dark shirt opened a few buttons with white detailing on it. A white necklace as well, but it was the lovesick smile Luke loved; Alex deserved happiness the most in Sunset Curve.
“He’s totally a skater.” Reggie spoke, “It’s a love story. He’s a skater boy, and he’d like to do ballet.”
“That would be a sick song. He was a punk, she did ballet.” Luke hummed to a melody created on the spot, “Not really our sound.”
“Someone will figure out a way to use it.” Reggie waved off, and he was right. A singer would use the exact lyric in her song ‘Sk8er Boi’ in 2002 when Sunset Curve would bump into her.
Slowly the boys of Sunset Curve found their way to the stage to perform a few songs directed towards you. At your urging, you had demanded they give a live performance of Unsaid Emily for your now mother-in-law. As they sang, you wrapped an arm, Emily, as she cried.
“This is his best work.” You mumbled to the older woman cupping her wet cheek leaning into the touch of her husband’s touch.
As soon as the song was over, Emily yanked her son into her arms both parties of the hug emotionally moved. It seemed the performance had shifted something in their relationship for the better. Luke didn’t need to explain as he pulled you into his side once more.
 “Alex isn’t the only one that found someone.” You whispered, finding Alex and the bartender on break dancing on the edge of the dance floor. At your husband’s puzzlement, your finger pointed in the direction of the stage.
In a conversation photographer, Ray captivated the lead singer of the band you had hired when Sunset Curve didn’t play. Even Reggie seemed to have the attention of your twin showgirl cousins from Las Vegas.
“Love attracts love.” Luke simply spoke, wrapping his built arms around his wife, thinking back on the changes that had happened.
Luke hitting Reggie’s leg with the car at thirteen, finding each other at the concert a few years later, the accident that threatened the relationship. Proposing twice and finally marrying over a year later on the same day you confessed the pregnancy. So much had happened in such a fraction of time.
“I love you.” Luke murmured at the shell of your ear watching his friends have the time of their lives on a beautiful day in the summer of 1998.
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Above are the example of the shoes that Luke got.
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doc-pickles · 3 years
Text
all roads they lead me here
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This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong
This is the last time I say it's been you all along
This is the last time I let you in my door
This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore
“Hey it’s Alex, leave me a message or whatever.”
“Alex, it's Jo. I just talked to your mom because you weren’t answering my calls and she said she hasn’t seen you or heard from you in awhile. So… please call me back. I just need to know you’re okay. I love you.”
“It’s me. It’s just been… A really long day and all I really want to do is curl up in bed with you. But you’re not here and you’re not in Iowa and I’m starting to worry that you’re dead in a ditch somewhere. Anyways I love you, please call me back.”
“Hi, it’s me again. Jo, you know your wife? The woman you married? I just… I’m worried about you and the longer I don’t hear from you the more worried I get. So please just call me back. I love you.”
“Alex, please pick up the phone. I don’t care where you are or what you’ve been doing. I don’t care if you’ve… committed murder or something. I don’t know, I just… I need you to answer me. If you’re not coming home I need to know so please just stop my wondering and answer me. Please. I love you, call me back.”
Alex sighed as he listened to the plethora of voicemails that Jo had left for him, her voice sounding more desperate the more messages she left. He wanted to call her, to answer one of her phone calls but he didn’t think it was fair to her. How was he supposed to drag her away from Seattle and everyone they loved to come to the middle of nowhere? How could he ask her to make that sacrifice when he was struggling to accept it himself?
As if hearing his thoughts, his phone screen lit up with a photo of Jo and him on their wedding day. Despite his doubts and worries Alex punched the green accept button and brought the phone up to his ear.
“Alex? Is that you?”
He only hesitates for a moment before letting out a sigh and answering, “Yeah it’s me.”
The relieved sigh and barely concealed tears break his heart as he listens to Jo on the other line. This was why he couldn’t go back, why he couldn’t face Jo again. Just hearing her on the other end of the phone was breaking his heart, he knew if he stood across from her and told her the choice he’d made that he would never be able to walk away.
“Oh my god, I thought you were dead,” Jo’s voice rang across the line, cries punctuating her words as she spoke a mile a minute. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt or in trouble or anything are you?”
“No… No, I'm okay. I’m fine I promise.”
“Good then where the hell are you,” Jo’s voice went from worried to stern in a flash, her tone almost scaring Alex as he listened to her. “I haven’t seen you in a month and a half and no one has been able to contact you for almost three weeks now. I thought you were lying in a coma somewhere so you better have a damn good reason as to why you haven’t been answering your phone.”
Of course she was angry, she had every right to be. If Alex were in Jo’s shoes he would’ve lost his mind trying to figure out where she was. But he wasn’t, instead he was lying in a hotel room thousands of miles away from Seattle keeping a huge secret from his wife who he normally told everything to. Alex let his eyes roam to the crisp white envelope on the bedside table next to him, Jo’s name in large letters across the front of it.
“It’s a long story, Jo.”
“Well start talking then Alex. I have been losing my mind here and I deserve an explanation,” Jo paused for a moment, her voice coming back clear and resolute when she spoke again. “If you’re leaving us, if you’re not coming home I need you to say it. I can’t keep sitting here playing back everything I’ve done trying to figure out what I did wrong.”
“Jo you haven’t done anything wrong, you could never,” Alex is quick to stop the destructive thoughts he knows are swirling around in Jo’s head. A deep pang of guilt hits him as he realizes that his lack of communication has probably torn her apart. “I’m just trying to figure some things out and… that might mean I don’t come back to Seattle.”
The line is silent and for a long moment Alex almost thinks that she’s hung up on him. Finally Jo speaks again, “You're telling me I didn’t do anything wrong but you’re not coming home? I don’t get it. Can you just tell me what's really happening?”
“I have kids.”
“I was going to-“
“With Izzie. She used the embryos and she has twins. We have twins,”
The all consuming silence from the other end of the line surrounds him once again. This time though, the pause felt like the heaviest thing he’d ever felt, the weight settling on his chest and taking his breath with it as he waited for Jo to respond to him.
“Oh.”
“Jo, I had no idea. I called Izzie before Mer’s trial and I was telling her all about you and then… then I heard them in the background. Alexis was singing some song and Eli was yelling at her to stop and I couldn’t not ask about them,” Alex let out a sigh as he ran a hand across his face. “They’re perfect Jo, god they're… They’re everything, the best of me and the best of Izzie. I have a chance to make this family whole, and I just hope you love me back enough to let me ta-“
“You have a family here too Alex! You have people that are depending on you and waiting for you to come home,” Jo was on the verge of tears and she yelled down the line, her voice trembling as she tried to get her point across. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or answer your phone? God Alex I love you but sometimes you can be so stupid. I’m looking up flights now, I can get there tomorrow afternoon.”
“No babe, I don’t need you to come out here.”
“Then tell me what I’m supposed to do! Because I’ve been sitting at home for the last month and a half waiting for you to come home and that didn’t do anything.”
Alex let out a sigh, his shoulders falling as he leaned back against the headboard of his hotel bed, “Jo I’m sorry but I have kids and I need to be here for them. I’ve already missed five years of their lives, I don’t want to miss anymore.”
“Then let me come out there Alex! If you’re planning on staying why won’t you let me come out,” the next pause that comes is from Alex as Jo let’s his silence answer her questions. “You really weren’t planning on coming back to me, were you?”
“Jo, please-“
“No Alex! You don’t just choose to end things without asking me! It's like the past seven years have meant nothing to you,” a steadying breath sounded over the line, Alex’s heart beating out of time as he listened to Jo. “You cannot just leave us here like garbage Alex. I deserve more than that, we deserve more than that! So either you come home or…. Fuck! I don’t know. Alex please.”
Alex thinks he can almost tangibly feel his heart breaking in two as Jo cries out to him. He loves her, more than anything he thinks, but he has children and their faces pop into his mind every second of the day now. He can’t fathom leaving them after already missing so much of their lives.
“Were you even planning on coming back home? Or were you just going to ignore my calls until I got the hint.”
“I didn't know she would have my kids, and now that she does, I don't know how to look anyone in the eye if I don't stay and do everything I can to make this work, make this a life, make this a family,” Alex’s pauses to catch his breath, listening to Jo’s cries. “I never meant to hurt you Jo-“
“Then you should’ve told me! You knew for weeks before you left and you didn’t say anything. You just kissed me and laughed at my jokes and ate dinner across from me crawled into bed next to me and made love to me like nothing was wrong. But the whole time you were just counting down the days until you left without another word,” her breaths are unsteady now, Jo hyperventilating on the other end of the phone in a way that makes Alex want to forget everything he’s seen in Kansas. “I can’t breathe, I can’t do this Alex. If you’re leaving us just say it. Please.”
“Jo, I’m sorry-“
“Just say it!”
“I wish getting everything I always wanted didn't have to hurt you in the process. But I can't lie to you. And I can't come home,” Alex is forcing the words out, barely able to say them without bursting into tears himself. “I'm not coming home, Jo. I can't face you. I can't look you in the eye because I wouldn't be able to walk away.”
“And that doesn’t mean anything to you? Everything we worked for, every uphill battle we fought to be together means nothing now? Did you ever think I would go with you, no questions asked,” Jo takes a deep breath before finishing. “I get that you have kids in Kansas, but you have a family here too Alex and we’ve been here for years, we’re always going to be here waiting and wondering and… I have to go. I love you and I’m sorry we weren’t enough.”
The line finally drops silent and Alex lets the tears he’d been holding back fall. He thinks he’s making the right choice, being there for his kids and giving them what he and Jo never had as children. But the pain and aching in his heart make him second guess his decision, if only for a moment.
-
It’s two days after his phone call with Jo when Alex realizes that he might have royally screwed everything up. His eyes follow Eli and Alexis around the farmyard as Izzie tells him about their life.
“We were actually in Tacoma before moving out to Kansas. Well, really it was just me but I was already four months pregnant by the time I decided to move,” Izzie let a chuckle out as Alex’s brain began to work overtime. “Somehow we made it though, I swear those two have been keeping me on my toes since they were in the womb.”
Alex ran back Jo’s words from their conversation in slow motion. He had played them over and over again in his head since she’d hung up on him but now he realized they might have a new meaning.
“If you’re leaving us, if you’re not coming home I need you to say it.”
“You have a family here too Alex!”
“You cannot just leave us here like garbage Alex. I deserve more than that, we deserve more than that!”
“We’re always going to be here waiting and wondering.”
“I love you and I’m sorry we weren’t enough.”
Sure she might have meant Meredith and her kids and the family he’d found for himself in Seattle but Alex knew Jo better than that.
“You know what I mean,” Izzie’s voice snapped Alex out of his daze, his eyes glassy as he looked from his hands to the blonde next to him. “You okay?”
“I uh… I think my wife is pregnant.”
+
It’s nearly 10 PM when a knock sounds on the loft door. Jo almost doesn’t get up from her spot on the couch as her fatigued body sinks into the cushions, reasoning with herself that anyone of importance has a key. When there’s another knock however, she begrudgingly drags herself up to slide the metal door open.
“Oh my god…”
Standing in front of her is Alex, eyes tired and hair damp from the near constant downpour of Seattle rain. She tries to ignore the suitcase at his feet, not wanting to get her hopes up when they’d already been so crushed just a week before when she’d spoken to him.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I walked away from you and from all of this,” Alex runs a hand through his hair, his gaze floating to the ceiling as he struggles to keep his composure. “I want to be here Jo, you mean everything to me.”
“How am I supposed to believe that? How am I supposed to let you back in when I know you were about to leave me without a word,” she’s begging herself not to cry right now, she’s done enough of that in the past week. But her stupid hormones bring tears to her eyes that she tries unsuccessfully to blink away. “Alex, you were ready to walk away from everything we’ve built without so much as a goodbye!”
“I know but-“
“But what?! Izzie sent you back home? Your conscience suddenly crawled back into your body after taking a two month vacation,” Jo’s voice rises as she stares Alex down. “What do you think you could possibly say that would make this better?”
Alex takes a step forward and Jo can’t bring herself to step away from him. Her mind is swirling, tears stinging her eyes as she meets his gaze, “Jo, I’m sorry.”
“Well sorry doesn't fix everything Alex.”
There’s a quiet moment between them as they stand mere inches from each other, eyes locked but no words exchanged. Alex does look remorseful, like every decision he had excluded her from is finally weighing heavily on his shoulders.
“I’m not going back to Kansas. Well, I’m not staying there at least,” Jo blinks up at Alex, waiting for him to continue before she says anything else. “I love my kids, god they're perfect, but that’s not where I belong. And I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize that, I’m sorry it took you yelling at me to realize that because it just confirmed that I should’ve talked to you as soon as I found out.”
Alex takes another step forward, his chest almost touching hers as his hand comes up to cradle the curve of her stomach that one of his old shirts had hidden. In the month and a half that he’s been gone Jo’s figure had curved outward significantly, the baby bump now noticeable no matter what she wore. She’s not sure how he’d figured it out, but the simple act breaks the flimsy hold she has on her emotions. Instead of the tears she’d become so used to though, Jo finds herself overwhelmed with anger as she pushes away from Alex.
“If this is why you're back you can turn around and leave again.”
"It's not…. Well it is but it's not the only reason."
"Alex!”
“Just listen please. I'm not back because we're having a baby, I’m back because you being pregnant made me realize how stupid I was being when I decided to move to Kansas. Eli and Alexis... They're amazing, but they were amazing before I got there too. And I don't want to be a dad without you by my side. I want it all with you Jo and I know that might be hard to believe right now but-“
Before Alex finished his statement Jo had launched herself into his arms, tears staining his shirt where she had her face pressed against his chest, "I'm still pissed at you but these stupid hormones all telling me to give you another chance.”
“Thank god, I didn't have a backup plan if you kicked me out again.”
"But,” Jo leaned up and fixed Alex with a serious look. "This is your last chance. If you EVER screw up this badly again…”
“I won't.”
Jo leans back, pressing her lips to Alex’s as she pulled him into the loft, “Welcome home.”
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heybeybey · 3 years
Text
No Regrets
Holy shit I finally wrote a full short fic!! I was inspired when @petra-realsnk posted this beautiful fic! I’m currently finishing up Chap 135 (so there’s spoilers for those who’ve only watched the anime!) in the manga and thought about a what if scenario where the Survey Corps didn’t try to stop Eren. 
Note: I highly doubt that there’s a universe where Levi and the remaining Survey Corps members, especially Petra, would be okay with genocide but it was fun to explore the thought. (Felt masochistic, won’t delete later ✌️😘)
Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra
Genre: Angst. And it’s Rivetra but I don’t think this can be considered romance. 
Summary: [Mature] Canonverse AU. Petra survived the 57th expedition and Eren was successful in his Rumbling. Petra and Levi questions if they made the right choices. 
----
They never talked about it.
No regrets. That's what his whole being has been about since he joined the Survey Corps. Petra’s devotion to him pushed her to follow him to the end.
The end did come and try as they might to ignore it, they lived every single day questioning the actions they’ve taken.
Today's Liberation Day. The Eldians are celebrating the day the great Eren Yeager freed Paradis from the rest of the world three years ago. As with every year, the town square will have a play reenacting the Rumbling later this afternoon. They're also serving dishes from the now-extinct Marley. He can only think what Niccolo must be feeling right now.
It's their country’s way of showing that they've won. It's theirs. The world is theirs.
His comrades. Erwin. All of them died for this farce.
However, the biggest clowns were the Survey Corps. 
Him, Hange, Armin, Petra, Connie, Jean, Mikasa. “The Great Heroes of Paradis,” people would call them in adoration and admiration.
Hange was still alive. She's still the Commander of the Survey Corps and she's been leading Paradis’s expansion with Armin across the flattened grounds beyond their little island. He doubts the both of them sleep well at night though. Last time he and Petra visited, he learned that Hange took down Erwin's portrait in her office. Petra cries whenever she sees Armin, remembering the boy who’d always talk to her about the ocean. 
Connie went back to Ragako to build back his village. He never tried to make contact with them again after that.
Jean transferred to the Military Police shortly after. Commander Nile named him next in line. They needed to promote as many people as possible because there’s still a possibility that half of the military can turn into a titan anytime now, even with that fucking monkey dead.
However, a recent rumor reached his city that the Military Police’s next-in-line just shot himself in the mouth yesterday morning.
Mikasa, on the other hand, disappeared.
Levi tried to locate the Ackerman girl a few times. Mikasa can be downright disrespectful and insubordinate during his time as her captain but she's still family. They never treated each other as such but she still is.
His condition prevented him from pushing himself further the way he could before and he had no choice but to follow as Petra led him back.
With his injuries, he needed to retire from the Survey Corps. Petra, banged up with her own scars—physical, emotional, and even mental, also signed in her resignation the day he signed his.
They say it's because they are not in the shape to push through anymore. Besides, there's nothing else to fight except their conscience and inner demons.
The truth is that seeing the Wings of Freedom on their uniform made him want to retch his breakfast every fucking day. Levi once said that he'd kill Eren the moment he shows that he’s a threat to humanity. They all dedicated their life to humanity’s freedom.
You bore the wings of freedom but allowed a monster to clip away the wings of the rest of the world.
What a joke.
He’s snapped out of his usual episodes when Petra came in through the door.
“It’s true,” she says and he takes in the dead look in her eyes. He wished it wouldn’t look any deader as the day Paradis won but it does.
He remains silent, waiting for her to continue.
“Jean. It’s true. He’s dead. His fiance found him yesterday.”
Levi understands Kirstein. He really does. He used to be against suicide because so many people who want to live die everyday. Now though, if he had the will to point a bullet to his own head, he would.
But he can’t leave the baby in Petra’s womb fatherless.
“Do we deserve this, Levi?” At first, he thought she was referring to Jean’s death. All this sadness and self-loathing. “Do we deserve this? A home. A baby on the way.”
When so many beyond the island saw their own homes and children trampled on.
This is the first time she brought it up and he wasn’t surprised that she was the one who opened this conversation.
Petra is already a shell of her former self. He finds it hard to believe that this was the same woman who’d fight titans with fire in her eyes. Who managed to capture his attention since the day she graduated from the cadets. Who managed to survive when their whole squad and the fucking Scout commander couldn't. If they hadn’t fucked around one drunken night of loneliness and despair, he feels she’d lose all the will to push forward.
“How should I know? I told you before. The only thing we can do now-“
“-Is to live with the consequences of our actions.” A beat. She looks down and carefully places her hand on the bulge of her stomach. "Do you think he'll be proud of us?"
Another topic he tried to not approach is the baby. He knows that he'll never abandon her and the little boy or girl inside her but that doesn't mean he'd make a great father.
"Beats me."
She finally snaps. "Levi, just talk to me for once!"
When he imagined a future with Petra back when he was still her captain, he saw it happening with them winning against the titans. He'd kiss her on the battlefield in relief, not caring if fellow soldiers saw that he’s in love with his own subordinate all this time, as everyone cheers over the fact that everything's over and that they're now free to explore beyond the Walls. He'd awkwardly admit that her feelings have always been mutual and maybe he'd even propose years down the road. She'd laugh at him and tell him that age must be really catching up to him if he's actually considering marriage.
"Levi, please. You used to be so open with me. Please don't leave me alone."
She's downright begging now, her arms encircling around his waist as she starts sobbing in desperation. Petra clutches his hand, caressing the remaining two fingers on his one hand.
"Please talk to me. You don't have to carry this burden yourself. I was there until the end, remember?"
In a way, seeing her like this is a relief. Since they retired, he'd always see her walking around the house in a daze. The only time he hears emotion in her voice is when she screams out at night as she wakes up from a nightmare. She doesn’t talk to anyone else now besides him. Sometimes, he rarely even listens. When Hange and Armin visited, she'd make tea and serve them like a meek, little housewife and she'd force a smile on for their guests.
He hates it. This isn't Petra.
Her crying now and demanding him to open up. This is Petra. 
He misses her. 
And since he hasn't found his voice in the past three years, he answers her by abruptly spinning around, grabbing her ginger strands and roughly kissing her to shut her up.
His hand grabs the spot where her chin meets her neck and he clenches. He manhandles her to their room and he fucks her while also making sure he doesn't harm the baby. This is the only way they can communicate their sadness and understanding right now.
She accepts it all without question, her teary eyes staring at the ceiling above him. The only indication that she's okay with all of this are her quiet moans and whimpers for him to go harder and her arms clinging around him in desperation. 
This isn't Petra.
He isn't Levi anymore either.
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evening-starlight · 3 years
Text
Daddy’s Best Friend
Tag List is open! Comment or DM to be added.
All Works Master List
DBF Master List
12
Word Count: 1992
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    The pile of clothes at the end of the bed seems impossible to sort as Amaris searches for her shirt. Her hands shake, and her mind yells at her. She said it would only be once, so why has she been in Tom's bed every day for the last week?
    "Here, your shirt," Tom says as he hands Amaris her ripped Metallica shirt. She didn't listen to the band much anymore; they were a little too heavy for her. She thanks him with a small smile and throws it on, finding her blue shorts quickly after. "You know, you don't have to leave so fast," Tom states, leaning against his bedpost. He hated seeing her leave so quickly after; it sent dread and sadness throughout his body. "We're still friends."
    Amaris can't help the heavy sigh that passes her lips. "Are we Tom? We haven't done friendly things since we started this mess. All we do is fuck," She bites, making her way out of his bedroom. It felt suffocating in there. Like all her evil deeds were ganging up to end her then and there. She didn't mean for the words to sound bitter, but it was true.
    Tom follows her out. "Then let's do something today. It's only noon. We have the whole day. Let's go bowling or something. Let's hang out, Mari. Let me show you we're still friends." Tom begs. He didn't want to lose her as a friend, which is why he hid these feelings for so long. It felt like his worst nightmare was happening before his eyes, and it had only been a week into the affair.
    He knew she was still with Armel, but he didn't care. He had her too, and he didn't mind sharing when she came to him to finish the job Armel couldn't. However, the jealously was nagging at him, and he had to continuously remind himself that this was what he wanted.
    "Fine. Armel and Juno are in classes, and I don't feel like dealing with Danny's drama." Tom smiles, stepping forward to kiss Amaris. She puts her hand up as a shield. "Strictly friends, Thomas." He sighs and chooses to wrap his arms around her shoulders in a friendly hug.
    "Deal. So bowling?" He asks. "Museum? I have no preference." Amaris thinks what the least romantic option would be.
    "Bowling," She states, pulling out of Tom's hug. It was public and loud, not a typically romantic place. She eyes him up and down, lingering on his shirtless torso a second longer than was platonic. "But I think you'll need to put a shirt on." She giggles as Tom flexes in typical bodybuilder poses.
    "What? Think you'd get too distracted by these guns?" He teases, flexing his biceps.
    "More like blinded by your pale skin," Amaris quips back. Tom fakes shock but can't hide the laugh bubbling in his belly. It felt good to joke around as friends again. Amaris could almost forget that she was slowly breaking Armel's heart. Almost.
    Tom holds the door to the bowling alley open for Amaris. The drive to the destination was full of jokes, singing, and everything they used to do when strictly friends. Amaris stays behind Tom, looking around for any fame hogs to steer clear of.
    Wherever Amaris went, she had to worry about someone using her to get famous or selling photos to the press. Of course, her being out with Tom wasn't anything new. The tabloids knew they were friends from a young age. But now that she's secretly sleeping with him, she continued to shift from foot to foot, heart pumping with exhilaration. She was out in public with her sideman, and no one knew but them.
    The pair sit in front of their lane, tying up their bowling shoes. "You still bowl with a ten, right?" Tom asks, standing up from his seat. Amaris confirms and goes to set their names in the tracker. She puts Tom under Tommy and hers under Mari. She wasn't the most creative when it came to nicknames.
    The first few rounds go by quickly, both adults focusing on dusting off their bowling skills. They used to bowl together a lot when Amaris was younger. This is the place he would take Amaris when she couldn't stand being a daughter of a millionaire much longer. Bowling was one of the few activities she had that made her feel like an average person again. At least for the duration of the game.
    "Take that, Maria," Tom jokes, finally getting a strike. He doesn't know where the nickname Maria came from, but it's only said during bowling. Amaris flips her friend off and gets set for her next bowl. When all pins are set up, she gets into her stance, focusing all her energy on trying to beat Tom.
    She pulls her arm back, about to let go when Tom's foot collides with her butt, throwing her off balance. The ball slowly rolls into the gutter. Amaris turns around to yell at Tom, stepping back when he's closer than expected. "That's a party foul," She whines.
    "Oh well," Tom says, walking back to his chair smugly. His roguish smile plastered on his perfect face as he takes a seat, leaving Amaris flustered.
    "You're an asshole, Hiddleston," She pouts, going back to the ball return. Tom chuckles and crosses one leg over the other. He felt proud of his actions. Amaris was a better bowler than he was, so he plays dirty when he can. It was also a mild excuse to touch her ass in public. It was the little wins for him.
    The joke was on Tom, though. After his little stunt, Amaris set out to obliterate the man and scored nothing but strikes and spares from then out. Tom steps up to the lines with an exaggerated pout. It was his last bowl, and he had to get a spare with split pins if he was going to try to make the embarrassing difference slightly less embarrassing.
    Amaris falls into a fit of giggles when Tom's ball ends in the gutter, hitting neither pin. Tom stalks over, not offended but feeling a swell of pride at the fact that he made her laugh this hard, all on his own. "Think something's funny, do you, Mari?" He asks hands on hips. The teasing was his favorite part of their dynamic, and he's thankful to all things good that it's back.
    "You bowl like an infant," Amaris continues to giggle, clutching her stomach. The last time she laughed this hard was when Juno slipped off their barstool after one glass too much and could only mumble an incoherent sentence about the 'stupid stool moving when I need it.' Amaris may have been tipsy as well. "I could bowl better from the womb," She continues.
    They both knew the joking and berating was good fun. It's just how Tom and Amaris were. They teased and fool around with each other until one cracks and gushes about loving the other. As friends, of course.
    Tom plops down in the seat beside her, crossing his arms. He could never be mad at her. Especially when she's laughing so hard she has to cover her mouth to muffle snorts. Those were Tom's favorite sounds. Sure, having Amaris scream his name was heavenly, but her snorts meant she felt safe and happy in her surroundings. He can't help but feel his smile widen at the fact that he's her safe spot.
    Amaris lays her head on his shoulder after her laughter dies down. "I'm pretty sure you find yourself funnier than you find me," Tom laughs, resting his arm across her shoulders. She nods, falling into another small fit of giggles.
    "'from the womb,'" She quotes herself. Amaris clears her throat as she sits straighter to look at Tom. "You know I love you, Tom," The words were so innocent, and she's said them to him before, so why did it feel different this time? Her cheeks burn, and her ears ring as if the words rang a bell right in her ear. "But please never take up professional bowling."
    "What do you mean? I could be the comparison person. 'And here we have average Joe to show you exactly how hard this dreaded spot, that's not really a sport, is,'" Tom jokes. Amaris giggles again, shaking her head to the man. "Keep laughing, and I'll throw you down the lane," Tom threatens lightly.
    "Don't threaten me with a good time, Tom," Amaris says, smiling widely at her best friend. It felt like all the guilt and troubles she's felt since Armel came to New York continue to fade into background noise when she's with Tom. He made everything feel brighter and lighter for her. Amaris felt like she could breathe for the first time when she's with him.
    "What? Sliding down the alley?" Tom asks, shifting to look at her better. She was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Amaris's blonde hair was sticking to her face caused by the sweat, her smile was brighter than a thousand suns, and her eyes were like nothing he's seen before. They held so much joy that Tom forgot what sorrow was. Amaris nods. "Why not?" Tom asks, standing up from his spot, offering a hand to Amaris.
    "What?" Amaris asks in shock. She didn't think Tom would want to do something so juvenile with her, especially in public where anyone could see them making fools of themselves. Tom pulls her out of her seat.
    "Life's not fun if you take yourself too serious, Mari," Tom says, backing towards the lane. "You said you wanted to do this, so let's do it. I'll even go first."
    "Are you peer pressuring me?" Amaris asks, crossing her arms. The smirk she wears gives away that she was going to go after Tom anyways.
    Tom nods, a mockingly serious expression on his face. "Absolutely. Is it working?" Tom asks, waiting for Amaris's cue to embarrass himself in front of everyone. Not that he genuinely cared. They'd be a page story for one print, and everyone would forget.
    "You know I crack under pressure," Amaris says. Tom takes that as a yes and turns towards the lane. He takes a running start and maneuvers to slide down the alley on his belly.
    The disappointment he felt when he doesn't slide far makes its way onto his features. His feet weren't past the black line of the lane. Amaris stands behind him, giggling up a storm.
    Tom shuffles over to her, shoulders slumped, and head hung low. "Good luck," He wishes, patting Amaris on the back. She starts running from where she's at and makes it only an inch further than Tom did.
    Amaris jogs over to him, already seeing the staff discussing what to do about them. "That was extremely disappointing, and I think we're about to get kicked out," She laughs, gesturing to the staff. Tom laughs and hurries to sit down, taking off his bowling shoes. Amaris follows suit.
    This was one of the best days she's had since being home. It felt freeing to be out with Tom and not worry about anyone else but him. Her cheeks were growing sore from all the joy showing itself on her face. But the smile was only the tip of the iceberg. Her heart was pumping, and she felt like she was vibrating and needed an outlet for all the emotion. It was almost too much for her small frame to handle.
    Tom felt similar. He enjoyed spending alone time with Amaris. He didn't have to worry about business or what he hadn't done. Amaris helped Tom focus on what he is doing. And what he is doing is having the time of his life sliding down alleyways with the woman he loved with all his heart. As a friend, of course.
Taglist: @queenofallhobos​ @kingtwhiddleston​ @cynic-spirit​
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gwen-ever · 3 years
Text
Until My Last Breath (Prologue)
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Summary: When Smaug arrived, he not only killed the dwarves of Erebor, but he also destroyed the lives of the few who survived... whether he did it on purpose or not.After a hundred years, a part of Thorin's past will come back to haunt him in the form of a dwarf who last knocks on the door of Bilbo Baggins' house, resurrecting old grudges and the pain of a life no one wants to talk about. Geira, daughter of Geiri, is anything but an open book, an exiled who no one wants around, a warrior who has no one to fight for, but only an oath she must fulfil.
Relationships: Thorin x FemaleOC
Rating: M
Warnings: none.
AO3 LINK: HERE
Note Number I: English is not my first language, I have a wonderful beta @lathalea <3 (i am so much greatful you can't even imagine) but maybe I will mess up few times.
Note Number II: The Story takes place during the quest but there is a whole backstory that starts since Thorin's childhood so there are going to be a lot of flashbacks. THEY ARE NOT IN A CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER so the whole back story could be guessed but will be explained later in the story.
Note Number III: I will mix up the book events and the movie events, fixing what where (from my point of view) some mistakes were made. I have decided to do so simply because there are some lacks of infos here and there and so many lost possibilities in some actionless time, as happened in Mirkwood and Laketown.
I am blood of your blood, and bone of your bone, stone of your stone
I gift you my body so it can fall instead of yours.
I give you my soul so it can  wait for yours in the Great Halls.
I lend you my voice so it can order your commands
I present you my sword so it can slay the ones who wish to harm you.
No other dwarf will be mine, no other dwarf will own me,
no one will sleep next to me, no life will come out from the womb of mine.
No one I will serve over the crown, over the Seven Stars, over the Father of all fathers, over the King of all Kings.
I offer myself to you, until the end of times, until the mountains soar to the sky,
until all the blood dries, until the fires of Mahal’s forge blaze high.
Until my last breath, until my last glance, until my last blow,
until the last time my hands touch the rock our Father gave to us,
my life is yours and your wish is mine.
--------------------------------------------------
The house of Bilbo Baggins was more crowded than usual that evening, and the owner was more than a little disconcerted: not only had his peace of mind been disturbed, not only was his larder completely, utterly, depleted, but his kitchen, indeed his whole house, was overrun with dwarves! Thirteen dwarves! Plus a wizard he had met in the morning whom he barely knew and had marked the door with a rune, thanks to which his guests had recognised the Hobbit's dwelling. Truly, Bilbo Baggins did not know how to begin to drive them out, he had been trying since the first one (Dwalin, if he remembered correctly) had walked in through the round door, obviously without being heard by any of them.
Crockery, knives, pots and pans, everything had begun to fly from one side of the room to the other without ever stopping. He tried more than once to stop them, without ever succeeding! At that moment his Took blood was more useless than a fork when eating soup. In fact, his Baggins blood had gotten the better of him, leading him to accept the situation with no small amount of annoyance, including those black strokes on his yellow walls and the fragments of food scattered on the floor. Oh, not to mention his good wine, totally gone! It had taken him hours to sort out his pantry between days before and now all his food, all his tomatoes, all his wine, all his cheese, everything, gone, vanished, and it was not even the time for the spring solstice party yet!
And now, or in heaven's name, now Gandalf had even had the courage to tell him that he would have to get used to them! To all of them! To the twelve dwarves in his kitchen! And what on earth did the wizard mean by saying  that he would have to put up with them forever!
Annoyed, he began to walk down the corridor arguing with Gandalf and putting his hands on his hips.
"I don't understand what they are doing in my house!" he shouted, raising his voice.
The wizard didn't reply, but a small voice behind him did and before he knew it his entire set of porcelains was in the air.  His cutlery was being knocked over his table. Knife blades were being dulled by their rubbing against fork handles, and before he knew it, in time to the music, his entire kitchen set was flying through the air.  Oh no, no no no, not that chair, no, not that plate, no not that other plate! No, stop, please!
His pleas were soaring through the air, as if they were leaves on a wind, as were his dishes. And Gandalf sat smoking his pipe on a chair with an amused smile while all this happened before his eyes. Bilbo ran to the kitchen to put an end to this madness, but as soon as he did so, he noticed to his surprise that all the things that had been flying over his head until just now were neatly stacked on top of each other on his kitchen table.
He blinked, several times adjusting his braces, unable to believe his eyes.
The dwarves seemed highly amused by his reaction, and began to laugh, until three knocks on the door brought silence and an icy air that he could feel all the way down to his hobbit ankles.
"He is here," Gandalf said.
From the doorway a short while later another dwarf entered and it didn't take him long to realise that he was different, very different from the others who had entered his home moments before. Every single beard turned to face the newcomer as he walked inside.
Bilbo didn't know who it was and he didn't even really care, no one would enter his house unannounced, no one.
But he couldn't admit that his blood ran cold in his veins as soon as that dwarf started talking to him and asking him all those strange questions. What did he mean by axe or sword? Did he really believe that a hobbit like him had ever picked up either weapon? Who did he think he was? He could not hide his confusion at the last statement of the so-called Thorin Oakenshield.
"He looks more of a grocer than a burglar," he joked.
It was all too absurd for Bilbo's poor hobbit ears, all so surreal! His life, monotonous and lonely until a few hours ago, was now changing, he could feel it in his bones, and he could not understand if it was a good thing or not: he had always dreamed of adventure when he was a young hobbit, but now it was different; the walls of his home were so comforting and safe, every object was a certainty for him. His life was there and he would never leave it, no sir!
Calmness, however, continued to reign for a long time, during which the largest of the dwarves, with a long red beard, went to his kitchen and with an almost surreal care began to prepare a soup. Thorin Oakenshield sat down at the head of the table and was soon joined by the oldest of the dwarves who had entered his house, Balin, and two of the youngest, the two brothers Fili and Kili.
They began to talk in low voices, in a calm and quiet tone, just like everyone else in his house. It seemed absurd, but at least he was able to sort out some of the leftovers that had been left behind in the kitchen back in his own larder and eavesdrop, even if he didn't want to (it was rude) on some of the conversations that various small groups of dwarves were having. The ties of kinship were quickly understood, as was the realisation that Thorin was not really just another dwarf. No more plate was flying, no more song was being sung, but not out of fear, out of respect.
He turned his head, watching the almost regal profile as he spoke to the bear who came into the house first, but he could not hear what they were talking about, the fact was that their faces were dark, and Dwalin's eyes moved insistently over him.
A short while later Bombur returned with the soup, handing it to Thorin, and in the blink of an eye the groups of dwarves in his house were grouped together again, sitting around the table. He wasn't invited, that's normal, there's a meeting in a house and the owner of that house isn't invited! Not that he cared, of course not, the apple he was putting in the basket in the kitchen was certainly more interesting.
But he couldn't help but listen.
"What news from the Ered Luin, did they all come?" asked the older dwarf.
"Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms," the voice of Thorin spoke, setting off a round of small laughs and joyful murmurs.
"And what do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?"
A long wait ensued in which Bilbo swore he could hear the heart of every single dwarf in the room beating wildly.
"They will not come,"
The dwarf's reply was sharp and decisive. Disconsolate murmurs rose from his dining room that only increased in volume and quantity when he spoke again. "They said this quest is ours and ours alone,"
They began to talk in low voices, in a calm and quiet tone, just like everyone else in his house. It seemed absurd, but at least he was able to sort out some of the leftovers that had been left behind in the kitchen back in his own larder and eavesdrop, even if he didn't want to (it was rude) on some of the conversations that various small groups in that group were having. The ties of kinship were quickly understood, as was the realisation that Thorin was not really just another dwarf. No more  flying plates, no more singing songs, but not out of fear, out of respect.
A coughing noise, however, stopped the murmurs and caused Bilbo to turn to the table from behind the kitchen wall as well, distracting himself from his chores. Gandalf settled into the small chair and began to search the sleeve of his grey robe.
"This indeed, it is not entirely true," he explained as he slowly pulled a long wooden pipe from his sleeve. "There is someone else who has yet to arrive," the sorcerer explained, barely looking Thorin in the eye.
For all the pipe weed in the world, again?
The dwarf at the head of the table stopped sipping from his goblet of ale, giving him a sidelong glance but remained silent. Instead, the dwarf named Gloin spoke, crossing his arms over his chest. "This means yet another division of profit, all of which should have been agreed upon first." he muttered.
"Agreed, this matter should have been dealt with weeks ago," Dori pinned, pulling himself up.
Gandalf did not even look up at the elder dwarf, adjusting the tobacco in his pipe.  "My decision was made after our meeting in the Ered Luin. And Master Gloin, I think that our member does not wish any of that gold in that Mountain."
"Who is it?" grunted Dwalin suspiciously, looking up at the wizard who lit his pipe with his fingertips.
Bofur chuckled under his big black mustache, puffing an avalanche of white smoke from the side of his mouth. "Another burglar?"
"A burglar for the burglar," Fili grinned at the back of the room.
"A burglar made for the burglar," Kili added and their banter invited the murmurs from just before. This time, however, they were louder, more confused, as was his hobbit head.
A torrent of questions flooded the room as they all asked questions of the wizard, who, bewildered, tried to answer; only Thorin's intervention put an end to the commotion created, shouting warnings in their native tongue. Then he turned to the sorcerer himself, glancing at him.
"The questions that have arisen around this table are fair," he began earnestly, "I have not been informed of any others, none of this was a part of the bargain, Gandalf."
Gandalf smiled with the side of his mouth taking a puff of his pipe. "I was told to find the fourteenth member of this company and so I did, the addition of a fifteenth should not be an unsolvable problem."
"As I said it wasn't in the agreements and last minute clauses at a time like this are not convenient, not at all," retorted the dwarf bringing silence again.
Bilbo looked at the dwarves, clouded by the smoke from the pipes and the warmth of the candles around the table. They looked at each other's hands or watched Thorin in silence, not uttering a breath.
Gandalf put down his pipe and crossed his arms on the table, moving slightly closer to the dwarf with long raven hair.
"I assure you that my choice was not taken lightly, and if I had thought it was right a few months ago I would have reported it to you back then. But it was not possible," Gandalf lowered the tone of his voice even further. "You must trust me on this."
"Is this person crucial to what we must accomplish?" he asked quietly, looking straight into his eyes.
The wizard murmured a small "yes" between his lips, nodding his head slightly as he continued to look the dwarf lord straight in the eye.
Thorin said nothing, watched the wizard for a few more seconds before letting himself go off the back of his chair and then he took a sip of ale from his mug again. The conversation had ended in a few simple sentences, yet Bilbo noticed how the wizard continued to look at Thorin insistently.
Gandalf brushed his gloves around his hands with his fingertips dropping his gaze downwards for a few seconds before turning his head back towards him.
"Bilbo, my dear fellow," he called to him in a manner far more cheerful than his face was capable of showing. "Let us have a little more light".
----/////----
A snort passed her lips.
She was dreadfully late, which she hated from the bottom of her heart; and she hated the fact that she was going to a strange house of a Hobbit whose identity she did not know, although after all those years she had become accustomed to being in the homes of strangers quite often. Perhaps the real reason for her stomach clenching was not whose house it was but who she was supposed to meet in that house and the reason why she was going to that house. Because when she would see them again, all of them , it would not be pleasant or easy.
Far from it.
She didn't even think it would ever happen, nor did he want it to happen again.
She slung her sack over her shoulder as she climbed up the little dirt road, passing funny grass-covered houses by the round door: if it had been daytime, a riot of colours would have accompanied her path and perhaps, for a few minutes, she would not have thought about the imminent meeting.
She would have stopped for a few brief moments on that bench next to the path and sat there for a short while, perhaps lighting her pipe or watching those very peaceful people go about their simple business. Watching them do simple, mechanical things, perhaps in another life she might even have stayed in such a place, in peace, with someone. But no, too many years had passed, she had seen too much, heard too much, and she would not be able to live like that, not there.
Suddenly, a faint pale light caught her attention: she approached it and, with a thump in her heart, recognised the rune that the sorcerer had traced so that they could all see it. She reached the garden and climbed the small steps that led to the round green door. She ran a hand over her leather bodice and gathered in her heart all the emotions she could possibly feel.
Hatred, fury, pain and anger, so much anger.
She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the voices she could hear through the door.  Taking a deep breath to calm her already jangled nerves, she knocked, hearing a great commotion and excited voices from inside.
The door suddenly opened, and it was the sorcerer himself who filled her field of vision: he broke into a rather smug smile, proud to have been right for the umpteenth time.
He knew she would come at last.
She had met him only a few weeks before and he was exactly as the rumours said. Gandalf's every move was studied and planned and, who knows why, everything corresponded to the plan he had devised; how every cog in that mechanism worked was a great mystery. Yet for that, she could not but admire him.
So, after he had silently nodded his head, she entered the cosy, warm house that smelled of good food and wine and was lit by the soft light of candles; she followed him into a corridor and the smell of ashes and moss entered her nostrils, as well as that of processed tobacco and malt. In a few steps she found herself in front of a small room where, around a table, were crammed all the others who, as soon as they glimpsed their new guest, assumed the most surprised and astonished expressions she had ever seen. Their faces turned pale, their beards seemed to stretch to the floor, and none of them dared say a word. Only one of them stood up so fast that he knocked over the stool on which he was sitting, irate.
"What is she doing here?!"
The rumble of thunder rumbled through the room and like a thunderbolt it brought to light old hidden shadows, old whispered words, broken oaths.
--------------------------------------------------
You're blood of my blood, bone of my bone, stone of my stone,
I embrace your body to let it protect me
I take your soul and forge for it a place next to me in the Great Halls
I take your voice which I will hear above all others
I take your sword and I present you my shield which will protect you from my enemies.
No other dwarf will be yours, no other dwarf you will serve,
no one will  keep you company at night, no life will come out from you.
No one you will serve over me, over the Seven Stars, over the Father of all fathers, over the King of all Kings.
I offer myself to your hands until the start to the end, until the skies fall on the ground,
until all the bones crack, until the  fires of Mahal’s forge blaze high.
Until my last breath, until my last glance, until my last blow,
until the last time my hands touch the rock our Father gave to us
my desires are yours, your pain is mine.
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orionlakehastodie · 3 years
Text
Caspian, Jason and Showers
A Bensie NSFW Fic
Inspired by the following cute things I picked up on interviews:
1.Jessie had a Prince Caspian poster on her wall as a kid
2.Ben knows Jessie's mum calls her Jason
WARNINGS: Bit of Dom! Ben
Jessie didn't want to say that she had a big crush on Ben as a thirteen year old when Prince Caspian came out because that would mean admitting that her first orgasm was humping her pillow imagining she was humping him.
She had gotten over the crush, was 100% sure that she was over it, so when he walked into a room, and smiled at her and she got so, so wet immediately after she knew she was fucked.
So is it any wonder that he's now here, in her childhood home, spending Christmas with her mum shirtless on her bed?
They agreed to not have sex, not while her parents and her brother are in the same house, but seeing Ben interact with her mum and help her dad carve the turkey and listen with apt interest with her brother's mundane prep school life just turned her on so much.
He was such marriage material her pre-historic hind brain is screaming at her womb to get filled by this beautiful man who laughed so loudly and so genuinely and made her family love him.
For goodness sake, she thought, smiling down at him as his dopey smile appeared as she pulled off her shirt revealing her ratty but comfortable sports bra.
"I love you." His eyes dart up to her at that point in time, and that was a feat in and of itself because Ben loves her tits, and he opens his arms wide and she falls into his chest with a laugh and snuggles against her most favorite place in the world - his neck.
His arms tighten around her and he peppers the top of her head with kisses.
"And I." Kiss. "Love." Kiss. "You." Kiss. "Jason". She laughs as Ben blows into her ear at the last word and trails a hand down to pat affectionately at her bum.
She playfully twists his nipple at the jest and he laughs, that wonderful heartfelt, tinkling laugh of his - and she realizes since meeting Ben, all her days were filled with laughter and sunshine.
"If you ever call me Jason while we're making love I'm going to dump you. I don't want to remember my mum when you're balls deep in me."
His hands start to knead at her bum now, covered only by her reindeer themed pajama shorts, his fingers trailing closer to the edge of the cloth.
"Oh my you were not joking about the Caspian poster. It's right over your bed."
She feels heat crawl up her cheeks as she lifts her head from his neck and turns to see his poster, in a perfect view of the bed. From this point it looks like he was looking right at you.
"Yeah... well..."
He picks up on her tone, because Ben knows her so well and his eyebrows cock up. "Jason. Naughty little Jason."
"Don't even- Ben!"
He rears up and flips them over, slotting his hips in between hers, his semi rubbing against her core.
"Jason, did you or did you not, fuck yourself on this bed while thinking of me?"
She shoves at his chest, blush spreading down to her chest. "Oh this is so embarrassing."
Ben laughs and takes Jessie's hand, kissing all her fingers before quickly tugging on the waistband of her shorts and slipping it down. She was bare underneath, her thighs sticky from her arousal.
Ben's eyes darken as she lay in her childhood bed, in nothing but her ratty sports bra, with his poster on the wall.
"Such a beautiful pussy." His fingers reach out to tap at her clit, once, twice, and she bites back a moan.
"I can't be quiet Ben."
It was true. One time on set Archie passed out on the spare bedroom in Ben's apartment in Budapest and when morning came he glared at the both of them for keeping him up until 4 in the morning on a 7:30 call time.
Sex with Ben can never be a quiet experience. He was too big, and long. And he knew just where to thrust to make her come. And she would come until her mind was numb and all she knew was the feel of his cock spurting inside her, filling her.
"It's okay. I won't fuck you. I want you to show me. Show me how you fucked yourself to a picture of me."
He takes her hands again, guiding them to her core.
Shit. That was so hot. And he smiles at her again, that lethal smug Ben smile as her breathing picked up and he slipped his own hands inside his boxers to pull out his thick cock.
She rubbed at her clit hard as he traced a thumb through his glans, spreading the precum.
Her eyes go to his face, but his eyes are trained on her pussy.
"Spread those lips for me, fuck. Show me that pussy. Jessie, love, fuck."
Ben never gets like this, but fuck if he wasn't so hot right now.
She takes both hands and spreads her lips apart, feeling her arousal spill from her tiny hole and trail down her ass.
"Fuck." Ben's voice growls as he reaches with a finger to catch the slick dripping between her pussy and her ass and brings it to his mouth.
"Fingers, inside you now. Two. Spread yourself please darling.
She was panting now, definitely panting as she inserted two fingers inside her and watched as Ben gripped his cock tightly.
"Ben. Oh God, Ben."
Her other hand rubbed frantically at her clit, she was so close, so close.
"Did you say my name? Did you say my name Jessie, when you made yourself cum to me?"
"Yes. Oh yes."
"Tell me. Tell me what you thought I'd do."
She was so close. So close she was in that place where pleasure and pain blurred
"Ben please."
"Tell me. Tell me and I'll do it to you sweetheart, tell me."
"Fuck I imagined your cock. I imagined you slamming into me. Filling me. I... I imagined you sucking at my tits."
He growls and she feels the bed dip as he shoves her sports bra up and out of the way fingers pinching at a nipple. He pulls her hand from inside her cunt and she almost cries the peak so near, when he replaces it with his cock.
"Oh fu-"
He swallows her scream with his mouth, as shoves his cock inside her, in one smooth pass, assisted by her copious slick and notches right under her cervix.
Her back arches as his balls slap against her ass.
"FUck you're so tight, so wet, Jessie, look, look at how my cock fills you. You take it so well. So well."
She can see an imprint of his cock pop up in her tummy with every deep thrust. He has never been this deep in her before, never this hard, this big, and she was so near to the edge that it only took one flick of her clit to drive her over, her legs shaking around him, as she came.
She frantically seeks his mouth the scream building in her throat as he switches angles and hits her right there again, and again, and again until she's cumming again. Legs frantically trying to close, but Ben's hands are spreading them, lifting her shaking and all but biting her tongue to not moan out loud and pumping into her at a fast pace.
"Ben!" She opens her eyes, sees him focused on how her pussy swallows his cock. "Ben, I can't anymore. It's too much."
"One more. Just one more. You can come one more time for me."
His hands rub at her clit, his head ducks down to suckle at her breast and then she turns her head and catches sight of his poster and the sensations were all too much and she explodes, pussy spasming so tight she pushes his cock out and liquid spurting out of her like a geyser.
Ben holds stock still, mouth dropping, as his eyes, so dark now meet hers.
"Did you just squirt?"
She has no words, unable to catch her breath with her pussy still spasming so hard.
"Did your just fucking squirt? Fuck you're so hot, bloody fuck."
His hands paw at her batting her legs open and he licks traces of her liquid at her pussy and she shoves his head away, too sensitive for the assault of his tongue but Ben is relentless and she comes again and squirts for him.
"Ben, Jesus... I can't-"
But her words die in her throat as his cock plunges into her again. Moving at a reckless pace, not even pulling out, just grinding into her as he buries to the hilt.
"I'm going to fill you. I'm going to fulfill your every fantast."
She wraps her legs around his hips, helping him piston into her, and her hands grab at his ass.
"Come then. Come inside me Ben, please."
He thrusts once, and spurts in her, and she feels it deep inside her, so hot, so much, filling her insides.
He collapses on top of her, mouthing at her breast as he catches his breath.
Her fingers bury in his hair as she tries to at last catch her breath.
"I should..." Her voice comes out in a croak, and he laughs and she swats at his ass playfully.
"I will put up a poster of Caspian in our apartment. If it makes you into this sex God I'll even paper our apartment with Caspian."
He was becoming sleepy she can feel him grow heavier on top of her.
"Have you ever... come like that before?"
"Never. And don't you be smug about it Benjamin Thomas."
He grunts and rolls over, his cock slipping out of her, causing their mixed juices to spill out of her.
"I should clean you... but... so warm."
He settles her on his chest, hands rubbing soothing circles on her back and soon she too, feels the lure of sleep.
"I love you, Jessie."
She smiles, settling his cheek over his still racing heart. "I love you too."
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tomtenadia · 3 years
Text
Island Dreams - Epilogue
So, this is it. We officially reached the end. I must admit I am very sad. Writing this story has been such a great journey but Aelin and Rowan have their happy ending. This chapter is set 5 years after the events of the previous chapter. it's divided in two parts. The first one we have Aelin telling in first person what happened in five years. Part two has a snippet of our beloved Whitethorn-Galathynius family. we get to meet Freyja and Morrigan and a surprise too. I hope you love the girls.
I want to say a massive thank to every single person who read the story, reblogged it or left a comment. Thank you. I am so grateful for all the support you gave me.
I am coming back..  A Little Braver is going well and I hope to be brave enough to post chapter one soon.
And now i'll leave you to the story. Enjoy <3
--------------------
5 years later
My name is Aelin and my story began five years ago. I was once heartbroken and one day I left my old life behind and took a flight to Scotland, and then a ferry and I ended up on this island called Lewis. I am a bookworm and one of the first thing I did once on the island was to go and hunt for a bookstore. And well, you know the story after that. It’s been five years since the day Rowan and I officially tied our lives together at Callanish. As promised we went back there after a year and a day and renewed our vows.
Married life had its ups and downs but Rowan and I fought through every single challenge that came our way. We made it work, we fought for each other as we promised and we love each other just as we did when we began. And some. Every year Rowan has been celebrating the anniversary of the day I arrived on the island and officially entered his life. Sometimes I think he prefers that day to our wedding anniversary. Anyway, as you remember we finished the story with the four of us, Rowan, me and our two girls Morrigan and Freyja. Those two cute bundles of flesh are now two very active five years old driving mum and dad crazy but also being the most precious thing in our life. They will start primary school next month and I am trying not to cry if I think how much they have grown. Physically they are their father’s clone. They both have deep pine green eyes and his same silver hair. Freyja likes it long and loves when either I or Rowan braid it. He has become quite a wizard at braiding our daughter’s hair. Morrigan, on the other hand, prefers it short. But the similarities end with that. Personality wise they cannot be any more different. Freyja is like me. Rowan calls her his wee Fireheart. She is fierce and stubborn. She has a very strong personality and for a five year old she has her ideas clear on what she wants. She is like quicksilver and always active. She is the first one to wake up and the last one to go to bed. She is curious and fearless and loves nature just as much as her father. She is out little hurricane. Morrigan, on the other hand, is the calm one and reserved and she reminds me so much of Rowan. She observes a lot and when you think she is not paying attention, she comes up with question that makes you realise she was listening after all. She has an inquisitive mind and her non stop questions can be exhausting after a long day. She is shy. Where her sister had been since tender age happy to be with anyone, Morrigan has always been very selective. Growing up she has her favourite selection of adults. She is very close to her father, probably because they are very similar, but Uncle Malcolm and Aedion come second. Aedion got her hooked on planes. Once we were at his and Lys’ house and Morrigan grabbed one of his models planes and started playing with it. Aedion had started talking about the plane and now when they are together she always ask him about planes. We think she’ll be a pilot. Both girls are obsessed with books just like her parents and Rowan has taken upon him the job of teaching them to read. Morrigan can read very simple words and write her own name. Freyja would too if she could sit down for more than five minutes. Good luck with the teachers. She is very bright, she just can’t stay still for very long. She was probably the one doing all the kicking while in the womb. The amazing thing is that they get along. It took us a while to teach them to sleep in their individual rooms. For a while in the morning we would find one in the other’s bed. Always curled up together as they used to do when they were little. Freyja at the park always play the protective one and looks after her sister and chases away the kids who try to take advantage of her sister’s calmer nature. If we were in a fantasy I would imagine Freyja being the woman learning to wield a sword and who would train with the guys and dreamed of becoming a knight. Morrigan, I imagine her as the one with her nose in books and who dreams of becoming a healer. I think Rowan is writing a story about them. Oh yes, I will tell you about his book in a moment. There is a further family member that I need to introduce: our son Dalamar. Yes, Rowan and I have scandalised parents at kindergarten with our weird names. Freyja did not cause much problems but a couple of mothers had a go at me for calling my daughter with such as negative name as Morrigan. I usually explain that I do not expect my daughter to become the goddess of war but that simply Rowan and I liked the name. And do not get me started with Dalamar. No-one apparently has read the Dragonlace chronicles so when we say Dalamar is a dark elf in the books, well, the glares we get are incredible. But again, Rowan and I wanted an original name. We started searching in books to find something we liked and then Rowan found his old copy of the Dragonlance chronicles and he suggested Dalamar. I joked that if we truly wanted to scandalise Stornoway, we should have called him Raistlin. So in the end we went for something less alien and settled on Dalamar. Anyway, Dalamar is two. He was planned though. Rowan and I had decided we wanted a big family so once the girls were around three we started to try and add another member. When we had the conversation we had talked about having four kids, but alas, Dalamar’s birth has been so full of complication that my chances of another pregnancy are now non existent. But Rowan and I are happy. We have our big family. So, Dalamar has blond hair, much fairer than mine and very light blue eyes. He is a gorgeous wee boy. In terms of personality he is halfway between his sisters. He can be adorable one moment and stubborn like a mule the next. But at least they get along and again, Freyja has taken him under her wing. She really is our knight in shining armour. Both girls are fluent Gaelic speakers. After they were born I asked Rowan if he wanted to teach Gaelic to the girls and he had been very happy about it. So we decided that he would speak only Gaelic to the girls and I was the boring parents with English, although sometimes I am brave and I practice with them, then I embarrass myself and revert to English. We have started the same process with Dalamar and he is like a sponge. Morrigan sometimes helps me with my exercises and Gaelic homework. I am taking classes as well when I can. It’s quite embarrassing when you are almost forty and your five years old daughter tells you “Don’t worry mum, you are doing great.” And then adds something in Gaelic and you need to wait for your husband for a translation. Kids, aside… our lives haven’t changed very much. Rowan still works at the bookstore and Malcolm’s sister is still his assistant. She had been wonderful and he could easily count on her when he needed to stay at home with me and the kids. The shop is becoming very popular, my Facebook page has now reached many followers and a year after our daughters were born he finally managed to set up a website for online ordering. My dearest husband also managed to write a book, find an editor and have it printed and distributed in some smaller bookstores. Of course I told him to have in his shop. We did a book signing hoopla and I don’t think I ever seen Rowan so embarrassed. Anyway, he wrote a fantasy and as promised I was in it and I was Queen as requested. He was my warrior. Loads of angst and epic battles but we end up together. I am very proud of him. Now he is working on one were our children are the main characters. I have only read the fist few chapters and I love it already. But I am his wife so I am biased. I still work at the hospital and still love my job. I started helping as well as paramedic and specifically in the air squad. The team that gets to be airlifted at the site of accidents and the whole thing required a special type of training and it had been amazing. On occasions, I get to work with Aedion. He flies, I save lives. I wish I could tell the London guys that they were wrong. Working in a small hospital is not throwing away my career. I feel more satisfied than I ever felt when I was down south. Malcolm is still my second and I still adore him. Three years ago he finally got married. After my wedding Aiden went for his last deployment and made it back alive and then retired from the navy. He and Malcolm started dating seriously. A year later they moved in together and a year after that Malcolm finally proposed. Aiden has found a civilian job and well, they got their happily ever after. Another couple who got their happily ever after is Lysandra and Aedion. He proposed about five months after mine and Rowan’s wedding and three months later they were married. They had gone for a very small and private ceremony. One year later they had their fist child a boy named Marcus and now Lysandra is pregnant with their second, a girl. She climbed up again the ladder at the hospital and now she is just one level below the head of the department. Then we have Elias. How can I forget him? He is still in Shetland and we keep in touch and we meet when he is back on the islands. His job is going wonderfully and recently got promoted. Two years ago he got married to Ciara and he is happy and a few months ago she gave birth to an adorable little girl named Martha. She is cute. I have seen her when they came down last month. We remained good friends and both had the happy ending we wanted. We still joke and we love to compliment each other on making marriage number two stick. His book addiction got worse and I think I created a monster. He also bought Rowan’s book and raved about it for months. Then we have Elide and Lorcan. We see each other quite regularly. Every year in July they come to Heb Celt and now they can stay at our place. We have been down to Glasgow a few times and Lorcan yearly provides Rowan with tickets for the Six Nations and we religiously go and see the matches. I am officially a Scotland’s fan and I even learnt Flower of Scotland. The boys are proud of me. Elide is still a teacher and Lorcan still the coach of the Warriors. Their family has gotten bigger as well and they have a boy and a girl and Elide is expecting a third one. Apparently they want a big family too. Oh and Lorcan can smile for more than a second. I must admit I have changed my mind about the man and once he gets comfortable with someone he is actually quite a decent human being. He as a dark sense of humour and us two are usually the ones scandalising the group with dark jokes. Aunt Maeve is still running her cafe and she had been a great help as well while the kids were growing up. She would come up with crazy excuses to offer to babysit them and gave us plenty of chances for me and Rowan to have some time alone. Especially after the two births. She also spoils the girls and love to bake for them. Freyja loves to bake with Maeve and, like me is obsessed with cakes. Also, baking is the only activity when our energetic daughter can stay still for more than ten minutes. Morrigan, on the other hand is fussy as her father and not a fan of sweet stuff. We really got one clone each. Dalamar is still too small but he eats anything. My mum has joined the group as well. She has bought a flat up here and sold the house in London. She decided that she wanted to be a part of her grandchildren lives so she moved up here and she is in good terms with Maeve and sometimes she helps her at the cafe. The two of them cooking are becoming very popular in town.
***
“Come on, let’s go and see dad in the shop.” Aelin took Dalamar’s hand and made sure the twins were walking in front of her. Morrigan started blabbing something in Gaelic but Aelin didn’t understand. “Beurla, mo chridhe,” said Aelin to her daughter. “Tha mi duilich, mum.” Morrigan gave her a toothy smile, showing off her missing tooth. They walked to the shop and once they got in the two girls ran to their father who crouched down and they crashed into him. “I bring chaos.” Joked Aelin while Dalamar was still holding her hand. Rowan had started hosting afternoon for kids in his shop when he would reads books or just have storytelling sessions. He had started during the school holidays to have a way to keep the younger children busy but then it became very popular and he kept going, so once a week the shop is invaded by parents and their kids. The twins loved to listen to their dad tell stories. Dalamar loved it as well but he was far too young to understand what was happening so most of the times he would end up playing with Lys and Aedion’s son Marcus. Aelin reached Rowan and gave him a kiss and the twins made disgusted noises and Aelin laughed “one day you will find a boy or a girl and you’ll want to kiss him or her as well and it won’t be as disgusting,” she said tickling Freyja who was the one who was the most disgusted. “I am going to be a knight. I don’t need a boy.” Added Freyja proudly. “I am going to be a doctor like mum.” Was Morrigan’s turn. “So, a knight and a doctor, I guess we got very lucky.” Rowan pulled Aelin in his arms “looks like the goddess of love wants to fight and is not interested in love and the goddess of war wants to heal people.” “Well, you can’t say that we don’t have an interesting family.” Joked Aelin. Then Rowan bend over and lifted Dalamar in his arms “and you?” He kissed his cheek “what do you want to do?” “Tuathanach.” Replied the boy hugging his father. Aelin laughed and brushed his blond hair “that is lovely, my love.” With time and once they were properly settled down they had decided to dedicate a part of the land they owned to have a small farm. They had a couple of cows, a few chickens and loads of sheep. Dalamar loved to run after the sheep and help his dad look after the animals. That’s why Aelin and Rowan were not surprised when he said he wanted to be a farmer. The twins went behind the counter and grabbed the colouring books that Rowan kept stashed for when he had them in the shop and the pencils and ran to the kids’ table at the bottom of the shop. Rowan placed Dalamar on the floor “Go and colour with your sisters.” “Tha.” And the boy joined the two girls. Aelin leaned exhausted against Rowan. “You look tired.” “They have far too much energy. We went to the park. Freyja ran and jumped the whole time. Morrigan wanted to pat the ducks and almost ended up in the pond and Dalamar chased every single dog or cat.” She explained, looking at their kids with affection “then we had ice cream, we went to say hi to Aunt Maeve and grandma Evalin and Freyja and Dalamar stuffed themselves with carrot cake. Morrigan just had a carrot. She is annoyingly healthy like you.” “My girl.” Said Rowan proudly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them madly, but I just wished they had just a smidge less energy.” Rowan kissed her forehead “I’ll entertain them tonight and make sure they go to bed early. Hopefully they will run out of energy soon.” “Morrigan and Dalamar perhaps. Not Freyja, that girl has limitless power.” “Just like her mother.” Rowan’s arms squeezed her tight “The girls are going to school next month so hopefully they will calm down a bit.” “I am terrified at the idea of Freyja sitting on a chair all day. I feel sorry for the poor teacher.” Rowan laughed “she might find it interesting and actually sit.” “Ro, she can’t even stay still when you read stories.” He scratched his head “I was thinking we can sign her up for some sport.” “You can take her swimming.” Suggested Aelin. Rowan had kept his job as swimming instructor with Dorian and they had made it work. When the kids were at home she would take them to the swimming complex and once Rowan was done they would all swim together. He had begun teaching the twins to float and some very basics techniques. Freyja had loved it, but she preferred jumping from the smallest platform. Morrigan on the other hand had been a good student and had followed her dad’s instructions and could do a nice basic breaststroke. Dalamar would soak with Aelin with his water wings. He loved being in the water. “She could become one of those athletes who jump from platforms into water. A professional diver. She is surely fearless for a five years old.” “I can see her as a rugby player.” And Aelin laughed. “We’ll let her decide.” “Of course,”Aelin kissed him “Look, some mum and kids are arriving.” Rowan was due to start his storytelling session very soon and mothers, fathers and kids had started to arrive in the shop. Five minutes later Rowan took his position at the bottom of the shop on his chair. All the kids sat on the floor on the colourful mats Rowan had bought. Morrigan and Dalamar would sit at his feet, but Rowan would alway keep Freyja in his arms so he could hold her still for a while. “Thank you everyone for coming this afternoon. Kids, are you all comfortable?” Aelin stood in a corner and stared at him as per her usual. Rowan was such a natural around kids. It had been so easy for him to settle into his role as a dad. He had been amazing with their kids and he’d do literally anything to make them happy. But at the same time he had managed to keep the wonderful balance to prevent them to become spoiled brats whose parents would give them anything. “Today’s story is about a princess. Her name is Aelin.” “Like mum.” shouted Freyja in her father’s arms. “Tha, mo chridhe.” And Rowan kissed her head and a smug smile appeared on the girl’s face. “She is fierce and brave and very, very beautiful. So beautiful that all the princes in the realm wanted to marry her.” Aelin laughed and blushed a bit. “Is there a dragon?” Asked Freyja who seemed had already passed her attention span limit. “Shhh, my love.” But he knew it was a desperate hope. “The princess had been put under a spell by her horrible stepmother who was very jealous of her. She could not enjoy true love with the man she loved until the dragon that held the necklace with the spell was killed. Aelin was in love with the captain of the guard, a man called Rowan. The wicked stepmother had found out and so punished her. She had planned to marry her off to a wealthy old man.” When Aelin noticed Freyja was getting fidgety, she took a chair and sat beside her husband and grabbed their daughter so that he could continue his tale. “Rowan offered to go on a quest and kill the dragon but Aelin refused to be left behind. She was not a damsel in distress. So during the night she gathered some of her stuff, donned her armour and together they set off on an adventure. During their trip he would train her with the sword so she could defend herself. It took them a few months but they did manage to reach the dragon’s lair.” “Dragon.” Freyja was ecstatic and Aelin held her tight. “But while they took the path through the magic forest to reach the dragon lair, Rowan and Aelin got separated. The forest was very dangerous but they were both very brave and fought all the perils and when Aelin finally reached the lair she saw that Rowan was already there but he was injured. She drew her sword and decided to face the dragon alone. In the forest she had discovered that she had fire magic and she wanted to punish the dragon. So she started fighting him, but the dragon was huge and she was getting tired. In that instant Rowan woke up again and walked to her. Together they fought the dragon and eventually killed it and destroyed the necklace, setting Aelin free. She finally kissed him and slowly they returned back home. Once back at the castle, they discovered the wicked mother was gone and Aelin and Rowan decided to get married. They invited all the villagers and they lived happily ever after.” Rowan had to simplify the story to make it acceptable to young kids but they seemed to have liked it. He told a few more stories and two hours later the shop was empty and he was alone again with his family. Dalamar had fallen asleep in Aelin’s arms. Morrigan had gone back to her colouring book and Freyja was pretending to be a knight, swinging around the toy sword Rowan had given her. “I am princess Aelin and I kill dragons.” She shouted while Rowan chased her around the shop. Rowan finally grabbed her and lifted her like a sack of potatoes “dad, the dragon,” she protested while trying to wriggle out of her father’s grip. “Freyja!” Aelin noticed Rowan’s command voice. The one that could actually slow down the little terror. The girl stopped moving and Rowan sat her down beside her sister and she grabbed a colouring book and joined Morrigan in silence. “You really have super powers.” Rowan leaned over to kiss his wife’s head “Give me ten minutes and we’ll go home.”
Half an hour later they were finally at home. Rowan carried a sleepy Morrigan and Aelin carried Dalamar who had been sleeping for an hour now. Freyja had followed in silence, with her sword tucked in the belt loop of her trousers. “I’ll make dinner, you change the kids.” Aelin nodded “Let’s go Freyja it’s jammies time.” The little girl gave her a huge smile and followed her mother with Morrigan at her side. Aelin placed Dalamar on the bed, and helped the two girls change into their night clothes. “Did you have fun at dad’s tonight?” “Yes.” They both squealed. Once they were ready, Aelin tied Freyja’s hair “now go back downstairs to dad but let him cook, okay?” The two girls nodded and left the room. Aelin grabbed her little boy and took him to his room, changed him into his pyjama and tucked him in bed “I love you,” she told him while kissing him on the cheek. Then grabbed the baby monitor and joined the rest of her family downstairs. The twins were on the carpet playing quietly with Morrigan’s planes. Aelin joined Rowan and hugged him from behind “Dalamar is in bed and the girls are playing.” She kissed his back “and your food smells amazing.” “Freyja finally calmed down.” “My mum says that she reminds her of me when I was little.” Aelin squeezed him. He switched off the hob and turned engulfing her in his arms “It does not surprise me.” And he kissed her deeply and Aelin replied in the same manner. He pushed her to the table and she grabbed his butt pulling him to her and she moaned against his mouth. He kissed her neck and Aelin’s hands found their way under his t-shirt. Then she pulled away “Ro, the kids are in the other room and awake.” Rowan leaned his forehead against hers cupping her face in his hands. The kiss he gave her was full of need and love “I know.” He sighed pulling away. Their intimate life had taken a bit of a hit and most nights they were too tired to even try and do something. The last time they had managed to get some action was when Aelin’s mother had kidnapped their kids for an entire weekend four months before. And the mornings were not good either because the twins had the habit of waking up and joining their parents in bed for some family cuddling. Aelin crashed her forehead on his chest “I miss our wall…” she laughed “but I know that I would fall asleep as soon as my back hits it.” Rowan kissed her again “I miss you too.” Then pulled away “Come one, let’s go and feed our hurricanes.” In that instant she heard Dalamar calling her through the baby monitor and five minutes later Aelin was downstairs with a weepy boy in her arms “Someone else is joining us for dinner.” The five of them had dinner and once they were done the kids moved to the sofa and Aelin gave them her old laptop so they could watch their hour of tv. She and Rowan had never bought a tv and the kids never asked for it but allowed them to watch an hour of cartoons on Netflix in the evening after dinner while they cleaned up. Most of times they got bored after half an hour and went back playing until bed time but when they were tired they did manage their hour. “They are watching Totoro again.” Said Aelin, joining Rowan in the kitchen with a pile of dishes then she grabbed a towel and started drying all the ones he had already washed. “They do love Totoro.” He added smiling. “Morrigan the other day said she wants to study Japanese so she could talk to Totoro and Freyja wants to go in the woods to look for him.” Rowan roared with laughter “I love the idea of studying Japanese, though.” “Our two wonderful weirdos.”Aelin stored away all the dishes. Once they were done they got back in the living room and silence reigned. The laptop was on the carpet and the three kids were are all hugged together on the sofa. Dalamar sleeping on Freyja’s chest like in the scene where Mei sleeps on Totoro’s belly, her arms protectively around her brother’s back. Morrigan was snuggled against her sister, her hand holding one of Freyja’s. Aelin gasped at the scene and Rowan pulled her to him and kissed her head “they are finally fell asleep.” He turned Aelin and held her from behind, his chin on her head and his arms tight around her. “This is it, Buzzard. This is my island dream.” Rowan kissed her temple. “This is my dream too.”
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