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devildomwriter · 5 months

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Children Listen, To Hear Sleighbells in the Snow | Others x Reader

2.5 K Words | GN! Reader | CW: children, slight nsfwish

Solomon x Reader

Solomon sipped on his “hot chocolate” as you sat by the fire. Every so often he asked again if you were sure you didn’t want any and you had to reassure him every time you did not want whatever that drink was.

You relaxed on the couch and listened to the pages flip in Solomon’s textbook. Not even during the holidays did he take a break from his magical research.

You focused on the movie which had just been background noise and noticed it was coming to an end so you prodded your husband’s shoulder.

“Hey, Sol.”

“Hm?” He asked still looking at his book.

“The movie is almost over, should we head to bed.”

He looked at his watch and shook his head. “You can rest on my lap if you’d like but we should stay up a little longer.”

“Why? What’re you waiting for?”

“Santa.”

You gave him a dumbfounded look and he laughed and set down his book. “Every year Saul and David stay up for Santa. I thought if we satiated their curiosity they might finally give it a rest and we could enjoy next year peacefully.”

You nodded along. “So…who’s coming?”

“Barbatos.”

You sighed. That poor demon had too much to deal with already. You heard a clatter in the common room and Solomon smiled and held a finger to his lips.

“Right on time.”

You peeked around the corner and saw your sons hiding behind the couch peeking over it to watch “Santa” place their presents. They looked at each other and grinned excitedly, shushing each other.

“They aren’t quite as devious as you,” you noted and he nodded.

“Agreed. I’d have never been caught.”

“Caught?”

“Well….I was going to have Barbatos ‘kidnap’ them for a while and put them to work at the ‘pole’…”

“No,” you glared and he sighed.

“But how else will they learn?” He pouted and you glared at him and grabbed both of your sons by the backs of their shirts.

They yelped and alerted “Santa” who proceeded to scold them for being awake. They apologized to Santa and you carried them off to bed while Barbatos gave Solomon an earful for his terrifying original plan.

Simeon x Reader

All was calm and quiet. The home was dimly lit by the strung lights and you were covered in a thin silk robe cuddling your husband.

Simeon ran his fingers through your hair and kissed your forehead. He gazed lovingly into your eyes and you kissed his lips gently, running your tongue across them.

He chuckled and pulled you in closer, slipping the robe off your shoulder and reaching for the ribbon to untie it.

You hummed happily, but were interrupted when you heard a gasp from the living room. For a moment you were worried your child had snuck into the room but you and Simeon didn’t see them.

You sighed, disappointed you’re Christmas Eve plans were being delayed. Using magic you quickly changed yours and Simeon’s silk robes into a set of pajamas you could wear in front of your children.

You passed by their shared room and saw all but one of them were still sound asleep.

“Simon,” Simeon sighed and you followed him to the living room downstairs.

Simon jumped when he heard the creak of the stairs and his innocent doe eyes turned up to eleven. Simeon shook his head disappointedly and guilt crossed Simon’s face.

You got to the bottom of the stairs to join Simeon who was crouched by your son.

“Simon,” he began gently, “didn’t your mother and I ask that you stay in bed until we get you in the morning?”

Simon nodded and looked down at his fluffy blue socks. “I’m sorry Daddy…” he said, lip trembling.

Simeon shook his head and picked up his son. Simon clung to his dad’s shoulders.

“I forgive you, son. All I ask is you don’t get out of bed again tonight, can you promise me that?”

Simon nodded and wiped his nose.

“If you feel so guilty being caught, don’t do it to begin with, okay?” You suggested to your eldest and he nodded and held up his pinky. You took it with your pinky and shook it.

“Pinky promise,” he yawned and leaned into Simeon’s shoulder, already getting tired.

Simeon put your child to bed and you waited for him under the covers dressed in your silk robe again.

Simeon entered and saw you. He grinned ear to ear and joined you in bed to end the night as you two had started it.

Raphael x Reader

Raphael placed the last gift under the tree. He’d been meticulously organizing them for an hour as you watched him from the couch, sipping hot chocolate.

Your husband had always been very particular about appearances, whether it be fashion, weaponry, aesthetics, or home décor. He liked things in a very specific way that you had yet to decipher even after several years of marriage.

He nodded and finally got back to his feet. He observed the gifts with a tilted head and stood farther away to get another perspective. He smiled to himself and nodded.

“Now it’s perfect,” he decided and you sighed in relief.

“Want some hot chocolate?” You offered.

He looked hesitant until you offered to make it like Solomon does and he accepted enthusiastically.

After making the concoction you brought it out to Raphael who looked disappointed and was staring down the hallway.

“Raph…is something wrong?” You asked and squeezed him from behind. He nodded and silently pointed out the door to your son’s room.

“Rafal?” Raphael called sternly and approached the door which shut loudly.

Raphael sighed and shook his head. “Let me get him,” you offered and opened the door. You found your son hiding under the bed with a flashlight.

You got down on the floor and peered under the dark bed. “Hey.”

“Hi, Mommy.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Waiting for Santa to infiltrate.” He said robotically and rolled the spear out from under his bed.

“How in Father’s name did you…” Raphael muttered and picked up his spear wondering how his son got this. “This was in my armory…”

“Infiltration was all too simple,” Rafal commented from beneath the bed.

Raphael stared at the spear and gave you a confused look. He had no idea if he should be angry or proud.

“Rafal, come on out. We can guard the chimney together,” you offered and he grinned as you slid him out from under the bed.

Raphael gave you a confused look and you shrugged and headed to the living room. Rafal gasped when he saw the presents and jumped from your arms.

“He evaded us!” He exclaimed and Raphael hid a smile until Rafal tried climbing up the chimney and required a bath.

After all was said and done, you fell asleep next to your husband who held Rafal tightly in one arm until he stopped squirming and fell asleep, safe in his dad’s arm.

Mephistopheles x Reader

Mephistopheles grinned to himself, imagining how excited your son was going to be Christmas morning. Christmas wasn’t a holiday that he experienced as a child and he wasn’t sure he should be celebrating at all, but it was part of your culture so he ensured it’d be the best Christmas of them all.

Every year he found a way to outdo the previous and this time he’d bought your son five new horses for his brand-new stable.

Most kids asked for a pony, but not everyone expected to actually get one. Mephistopheles being the kind of father he was, made sure his son would have much more than he’d asked for.

The child was spoiled, to say the least. Spoiled and very, very excited.

So excited in fact, that your butlers and maids had to keep warning you when he left his room so you could avoid ruining the surprise.

Mephistopheles directed one butler to set down the last stack of presents and made sure it’d been set up as it was supposed to when you both heard giggles from around the corner.

The head-butler approached you from behind quietly, “My lord, my lady, young master Claude has escaped his room once more.”

Mephistopheles smiled, “Let’s go settle him down,” he suggested to you and held out his arm for you to take.

You ascended the stairs and heard the pitter-patter of footsteps grow quiet as they ran away.

Mephistopheles smirked and with a snap of his fingers you both appeared on either side of your startled son. He was so surprised his wings and horns sprung forth and he let out a small shriek.

“Son?” Mephistopheles addressed and Claud bowed his head.

“Sorry father. Sorry mother,” he apologized immediately.

“What are you sorry for?” Mephistopheles pressed and you nodded.

Claud avoided your eyes and mumbled.

“Speak clearly, son,” Mephistopheles said firmly.

“I’m sorry for leaving my room when you told me not to.”

Mephistopheles nodded proudly. “Can you tell me why you did that?”

Claud’s eyes sparkled and he clenched his fists excitedly, “Why Santa of course!”

You chuckled and Mephistopheles grinned. “Well then, you’ll have to sleep if you expect to get anything? Don’t you know the story?”

Claud shook his head, “I forgot.”

Mephistopheles sighed and beckoned you to come over. “Why don’t your mother and I tell you again okay? Then you’ll stay in bed, understand?” Mephistopheles asked and Claud nodded.

You smiled and followed your husband to your son’s room where you’d recount the story of Santa once more.

Barbatos x Reader

Barbatos was glad to have you in his arms after the hustle of the holiday season. Finally, you both had a moment to relax. Deep in the castle through the many secret corridors was the room you shared with your elegant husband. The castle might not belong to you but this part of it did. It was yours, your husband’s, and your son’s little paradise.

Every door led to a house, yard, garden, art studio, or some other fun place in the world. But most led to other rooms in the castle.

When you heard one of these doors open, you and Barbatos shot out of bed and ran into the hall.

“Sebastian!” Barbatos called and ran in the direction of the noise. You followed but couldn’t keep up and waited for his word.

When he appeared before you again both he and your small child were soaking wet. Barbatos peeled a piece of seaweed off his shoulder and his expression said it all.

He handed you your sniffling son who stuttered out excuses. “I-I thought it was the door to the living room…”

“No sweetie,” you scolded lightly. “That door moved two days ago.”

“Yes,” Barbatos said sternly. “That specific door leads straight to the bottom of the Mariana trench.” He handed a soft towel to you and you wrapped Sebastian in it.

“Geez, I’m glad you’re okay! Sebastian I’ve told you the doors are dangerous, nothing is worth risking your life over.”

Sebastian cried for a while and when he’d calmed down you finally got the truth out of him. “I just…I just wanted to wait for Santa with Uncle Diavolo.”

Barbatos raised a brow, “what did Uncle Diavolo tell you?”

“I asked what he’d be doing tonight and he said he’d be hanging out with Santa.”

Barbatos sighed. “I believe what he said was Satan. They do sound very similar it’s a common mistake.”

Sebastian looked crestfallen and it broke your heart so you helped dry your son and husband off with magic. They were both good as new and with his anger soothed, Barbatos held your son tightly.

“One day I’ll show you how to master the doors, but not now. Right now you will stay safe in your mother and I’s bed while Santa delivers your gifts.”

Diavolo x Reader

Diavolo was more excited for Christmas than his own children. He sipped his hot chocolate and his foot tapped excitedly as he reached for another sugar cookie you’d iced yourself.

The gifts had been set up perfectly, everything was ready for tomorrow which meant there was only one thing left to look forward to.

Diavolo finished his drink and treats and set his tray aside for a butler to collect in the morning.

He turned over to you who was still sipping the hot chocolate until you noticed his devious grin.

You chuckled at your adorably needy husband and set the hot chocolate down. You’d just have to finish it later. You placed a spell over the cup to keep the contents warm and scooted closer to Diavolo.

He beamed and wrapped his arms around you, trailing his hands up to your chest as he began nibbling on your neck.

You giggled and leaned into his touch moving his hands where you wanted them when you heard the unmistakable sound of your daughter laughing.

Diavolo sat up straight and frowned. “We can leave them be can’t we…”

You shook your head. “They can’t just wander the castle at night who knows what could happen.”

“It’ll toughen them up,” Diavolo argued though he was worried too.

“And how many times did you almost die?” You reminded him as he sighed and relented. You both left your bed chambers and saw your youngest disappear around the corner.

You chased after them and they heard you and quickened their pace.

Your eldest son, Chao, chose not to push his luck and stayed behind when you saw him. Your youngest child, Timeo, hid behind a suit of armor, and your daughter Disarray, lived up to her name.

With a cackle, she jumped over the balcony railing and flapped her wings as hard as she could to slow the fall.

Diavolo wasn’t willing to risk that and dove after her. She was no match for the skill her dad had in flight and he wrapped his arms around her as she laughed and whined in protest.

Diavolo looked up at you, hoping you’d join him downstairs by the tree. You nodded and held your sons’ hands, teleporting you both to your husband’s side.

“Alright kids, what are you doing out of your rooms?” Diavolo asked, already knowing the answer.

“We wanted to see Santa,” Disarray exclaimed and her brothers nodded but stayed silent. This was clearly your daughter’s plan. She was always the mastermind behind anything wild the three of them did.

Diavolo shook his head, “I’m afraid you just missed him,” he said sadly.

“What!?” The three exclaimed in unison.

“But it’s not even midnight,” Chao observed.

“Well, we’re royalty, we get our presents first,” Diavolo made up.

Your children believed him and were returned to bed. Timeo pouted but fell asleep in a few moments. Chao apologized for the trouble he caused and bowed to you as he shut the door behind him. Disarray as expected grumbled for a long time before she wore herself out and fell asleep.

You rolled your eyes at their antics and turned back to Diavolo whose mischievous grin returned.

“So…do you still want to…” he trailed off and you wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“Yes, let’s.”

#obey me drabble #obey me x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me raphael #obey me raphael x reader #obey me mephistopheles x reader #obey me Mephistopheles #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me as dads #obey me second generation #obey me fluff #obey me nsfwish

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starrayblogs · 5 months

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Not So Rock-Hearted || Floyd (Trolls) x Reader

a/n: prepare for this to not be serious, but rather silly and rushed because i think floyd is one cutie patootie ty

another a/n: likes and reblogs are appreciated too :3 okay enjoy your read!

i.i prologue;

After the night of the Bergen Attack, you lost your best friend. You were angry that night. You were angry at King Peppy for lying about “no troll left behind" when he left behind his own daughter. Then, one night, you left.

You wandered away from Pop Village, venturing outside with all the dangers. Eventually, after a few days and still no sign of Viva, you lost hope. You survived the next few days, trying to hide from the predators and find a new place to stay.

Along the way, you encountered a different kind of troll, a rock troll. Her name was Barb, and she took you to Volcano Rock City, which eventually became your new home. You also, eventually, got around to rock music. You enjoyed it more, and it naturally became a part of you, the pop fading away.

During the World Tour, you didn’t expect to see King Peppy again. It frustrated you to see him casually be carried by a sea of trolls, so by the time he reached your arms, you gripped him tight and set him down in front of you.

“King Peppy.” You said his name through gritted teeth. “It’s good to see you again.” You follow up as calmly as possible.

“Oh, I- I’m sorry, do I know you?” He replied nervously, taking a step back and raising his hands. You scoffed, adjusting your guitar strap so your instrument could hang by your back. You reminded him of your name. He echoed it, confused, before gasping.

“Where’s Viva?” You cocked your head to the side and folded your arms. He gulped and looked down. Your mouth opened a bit in disappointment, your brows furrowing. “You still haven’t found her?” You asked. Disbelief, sadness, and there’s that frustration again.

“I…”

“What happened to no troll left behind?”

“When I went back to get them, the tunnels had already collapsed!” King Peppy defended himself. “I’m guilty, every day, for leaving those trolls behind. I’m even guilty that I let you go away… I kept thinking that a Bergen would get you too!”

“So why didn’t you stop me?” You asked, shaking your head a little.

“Because I was a coward!” You inhaled sharply at his reply. He breathed heavily before clearing his throat. “I can never go back in time and make sure that Viva got out of the tunnels with the others, or make sure that you never left and made it up to you.”

“...” You said nothing, watching him step forward and grab your hand in his.

“I’m happy to see that you’re doing well, however. And… that I’m also sorry.” He said softly. Your eyes softened, and you sighed, placing your other hand on his.

“King Peppy, I… I don’t think I’ll forgive you, but I think I’ll learn to accept what’s happened. I’ve got Queen Barb, and she’s proven to me that she won’t leave me behind.” You glanced at him before looking at your savior on stage. “She’s given me a new friendship that I never thought I’d make again after Viva.” You smiled gently before meeting his eye again, pulling your hands away.

King Peppy smiles slightly and nods his head. “That’s… good to hear.” You nod your head before you start to walk away. “I just have one favor…”

“What is it?” You stop, turning back to him.

“Don’t tell Poppy about Viva... She’s not ready.”

You look at him quietly before shaking your head and continuing to walk away. “Whatever you want, King Peppy.” You say loud enough for him to hear before walking to the stage for Barb.

You didn’t talk to him after the World Tour. You didn’t return to the pop trolls when Poppy invited you back either; you simply told her that you had your place here with the rock trolls.

✩ next chapter

#✩ starraywrites #✩ starraywrites trolls #✩ starraywrites trolls band together #trolls #trolls band together #trolls floyd #floyd trolls #trolls floyd x reader #floyd x reader #yes #yes i am cringe #yes i know #but i am free #✩ starraywrites not so rock-hearted #✩ starraywrites nsrh

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ithaca-awaits · 5 months

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"#love every time we made dave a question and he went all fanficcy #this one and the post-survival one" hello i have a BURNING need to know..... which post-survival question did he answer?

Hi! Sorry for the month-long delay in answering this! I don’t usually get asks on this account so I kept forgetting and say I’d answer as soon as I got to check Dave’s Q&As again, which I kept not being able to check. Anywho, the question I was referring to here was made by Liv on the Q&A session that took place on the 25th of June. You can find the complete recording and transcripts here (along with other fantastic fan-curated resources if you’re new to the fandom.)

Q: If the expedition had been rescued around, say, episode 8/9, and made it home, how do you think the various relationships that developed on screen would have fared back in ““civilization””? Would the intimacies some of these men formed between them persist? I’m also curious to know if you think any of them would resign from the Navy, be it for whatever reason: ethical, practical, physical, to explore other parts of themselves, etc.

I’m gonna try to be as brief as possible because Dave gave a very long response (find the non-abridged version in the link provided above), but this was the meat of it:

Crozier and Blanky would talk endlessly about quitting the Navy but only Crozier would. This doesn’t mean that Blanky would do this comfortably, as he’d already have survived two naval expeditions that turned out badly, so maybe he’d join a whaling ship, even if that would also have gotten under his skin.

He doesn’t think any of the surviving Lieutenants would have come back anywhere close to the poles, but he does think that most of them would have succumbed to the calling of fame and glory, i.e. wanting to return to the sea now that they had been named Commanders or Captains of their own vessels.

He’s not sure if Fitzjames would have been brave enough to stay aside of the Navy, even if during those three months he learnt a lot more about himself that what keeping the same persona for thirty years had brought him. He thinks Fitzjames would have written a “hell of a memoir” as well as a “hell of a military career, and that he would have stayed friends with Crozier, even if some of the things that happened in the Arctic would never have been mentioned again.

Goodsir would return to visit Silna “as often as possible.” Not for romantic reasons, but because there’d have been “a friendship there”. (also, taking into account he is making up all these scenarios after 8 or 9 the tuunbaq would have lived.)

“I think Bridgens and Peglar [smiles] would have worked like dogs to be able to afford some goddamn privacy where they could be together for the rest of their lives. [laughs]”

Pilkington and Des Voeux would have stayed friends.

“Little and Hodgson would be in one another’s lives.” They’d help each other patch themselves up after what happened because they’d both be in denial about everything that went down, helping create “a more palatable story about themselves”.

Sophia would feel like she’d have to choose between Lady Jane and Crozier and would chose the former, especially after the loss of her uncle.

Jopson would have stayed close to Crozier, they’d stay best friends for the rest of their lives.

Golding would commit suicide at some point, he was not equipped to deal with everything that happened and much less to go on living carrying it with him.

David Young’s ring would have been delivered to his sister. (with one of the crystal diamonds having fallen off during the journey.)

Mr Diggle would have been fine and stayed friend with some of the AB’s and midshipmen, but not with anyone else further up the hierarchy.

Collins would have lived a very quiet life, as most of what troubled him was PTSD.

Hartnell would have had a family and lived a quiet life. He’d have stayed close to Manson and from time to time he might have met with Crozier.

Hickey would have ended up in prison if he managed not to ger executed. If Tozer and him had ended up in the same prison they would have avoided each other for years, until they realized they were the one’s more suited for each other’s rest and protection. It’s tricky for Dave to say if they’d have become lovers because he is unsure about Tozer, but it’s prison so HE’LL LET US DECIDE. [ten seconds later he changed his mind] Tozer would have turned to Hickey for that kind of comfort and ended up murdering him, while Hickey convinced himself that he was the one letting himself be murdered. (This is already a very long ask, if you want more details on Hickey’s Vermont sex-cult, ping me and I’ll expand on it, because it was an answer from a different day and I don’t currently have it at hand.)

Gibson wouldn’t have wanted nothing to do with anyone. He might have found some new expedition or a house where he could work in as a domestic servant, but he wouldn’t have told anyone.

Hope this helped!

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

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Seven Seconds || Bucky Barnes

Summary: In seven seconds you see your entire future laid bare. Warnings: pregnancy, old age death WC: 1.5k

In seven seconds your life completely changed.

The elevator door had only just begun to open with Edith’s voice announcing the level number that opened out in the common room where most of the team had gathered. Though you had not met all of the Avengers during your induction training, you had met most at least in passing as you were given a tour of the compound. This would be your last stop on the way to the apartment that would be your home while you stayed to train your precognition powers with Wanda.

Noise spilled through the widening gap of the doors and you looked around at the lively group of people bustling about in the kitchen and dining space. They moved harmoniously between each other as they made dinner and drinks, like a family.

Past the kitchen lay the oversized lounge suite and the largest tv you had ever seen, Animal Planet playing on silent. There was only one person watching the Great White shark stalking its unsuspecting prey and he turned towards the elevator as the jaw of that predator opened wide for the kill.

Blue eyes connected with yours and a flash of pain lacerated your head as you stumbled forward.

–

One.

“Are you alright?” he asked with concern written on his face.

“I haven’t seen Bucky care about anyone since Steve,” Sam teased with a nudge of his elbow. “Whatever you are doing, keep it up.”

Sam walked off, leaving you with Bucky and you noticed the frown lines in his forehead had eased away along with the sadness that tinged his eyes whenever you looked into them.

“I’m fine,” you promised with a reassuring smile, “it was just a headache but it’s already gone.”

“You should still get it checked out.”

“No time,” you said as you slipped out of his hands and straightened the lines of your dress, “we are almost late.”

Bucky took a deep breath and turned towards the venue that was lit up like the Fourth of July, though it was only fitting for the memorial of Steve Rogers. He had been dreading the moment but with Sam waving at him from up ahead, and the rest of the team waiting inside he could finally take those last steps. He had been dreading the event after feeling like he would never get over the loss of his one constant in his life but with the support around him he had the strength to carry on.

Two.

The vision came too late as you saw the man take aim at Bucky.

Your scream could do nothing to stop the impending doom as the man squeezed the trigger.

Thankfully Sam had been keeping an eye on his friend and threw his vibranium shield out to ricochet the bullet away. The air in your lungs exploded with relief and you returned to focusing on the torrents of possible futures passing through your head, searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack to save the hostages inside the building.

You trusted that those two would take care of each other and protect you while you had your own job to do.

Three.

“You like like her,” Sam stated before you rounded the corner to the kitchen. “Just tell her.”

Bucky’s cheeks were burning red and he shovelled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“What’s happening?” you asked as you took a seat beside Sam.

“Well-”

“Nothing,” Bucky spluttered with a cough as he choked on his breakfast. “Sam’s just talking nonsense.”

Your shoulders dropped with a pout and you turned to Sam to get the gossip but he had already made himself sparse. You caught Bucky staring at you when you turned back and cocked an eyebrow at him in question.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked with a quiet reservation that wasn’t uncommon when it was just the two of you. You chewed your lip wondering if you should tell him about the thunderstorm about to arrive and he saw the hesitation, clearing his throat. “Nevermind, you’re probably busy.”

“I’d love to,” you rushed to say as you saw him backing away. “It’s just, it’s going to bucket down shortly.” You pointed to the window that had been full of blue sky only moments earlier but was quickly darkening. “How about a movie instead?”

The shadows on his face disappeared as one of his rare true smiles replaced them.

Four.

You were dizzy as you twirled around until the blur of the crowd came to a stop.

Dozens of familiar faces and even more unfamiliar ones circled you and clapped loudly as you settled back on your feet. You broke away from the grinning faces to find the only one that mattered, smiling back at you.

The tuxedo fit him perfectly and the boutonnière of pink carnations were fragrant in the air, the colour of his suit a contrast to the white dress you wore.

A wedding dress.

Behind Bucky towered a cake as tall as he was and beyond it was a banner congratulating Mr & Mrs Barnes.

Five.

“Bucky!” you screamed as you saw the blood trail through the backdoor and into the laundry.

Heavy footsteps thudded across the wooden floors upstairs before Bucky dropped over the railing, bypassing the steps entirely as he rushed to your side. He expected to find an alien invasion given the shock on your face but all he found was a few smears of blood, a half eaten mouse and Alpine proudly licking his chops.

The scent of the dead animal made your stomach turn and you gagged as Alpine placed his paw on it before tearing another chunk of meat away from the bones.

“Nope, can’t do it,” you croaked and turned to the laundry sink to upheave your stomach's contents. “Please get it out of the house.”

Bucky frowned in concern and pressed his warm hand to your forehead. “That’s the second time this week you’ve been sick.”

“And it’s the second time Alpie’s decided to get takeout this week,” you groaned, replacing Bucky’s flesh hand for his colder vibranium one.

“Are you sure it’s not something else?” he asked, his eyes dropping to your stomach.

Six.

“Nat, no silly faces. Steve, look at the camera,” Bucky warned as the photographer made a final adjustment to his tripod. “Your mother wants at least one good photo before you go.”

The backyard was crowded with friends, celebrating the twins going off to college. It would be the last time you would all be together under the same roof until the mid-semester break but the ache of missing them had already settled in your chest.

The camera clicked and you knew whatever moment it captured would be perfect; even if Steve was looking over at his girlfriend, Nat was sticking her tongue out, you had tears in your eyes and Bucky’s mouth was open with another warning to the twins.

Seven.

Your bones ached as you hobbled down the hallway with a cup of tea in hand. Hot water splashed over the rim as your hand trembled uncontrollably but no matter how hard you tried you could not steady them anymore.

As you always did, you stopped to admire the framed photos that lined the walls to the bedroom.

You smiled as you saw the latest family portrait to be taken at Bucky’s 169th birthday only a few months earlier. He had still been able to walk at that stage and stood with the support of Steve in the centre of the photo beside you. Nat flanked your other side and every other inch of the photo was taken up by the grandchildren and great-grandchildren that had blessed your life in the last 35 years.

Water splashed over the lip of the cup and burned the wrinkled skin on your hands. A small gasp of pain had you concentrating on reaching the bedroom and delivering the drink while there was still some liquid left in it.

“Here you go, my love,” you rasped as you reached the bedroom but the cup slipped from your fingers and smashed across the floor. “Bucky?”

He looked peaceful in a way he had not for months after his body started to dramatically deteriorate. The painlines on his face had disappeared in the minutes since you left the room and his chest no longer rose with shaking breaths.

Your chest tightened as you stumbled towards him and took his hand that was still warm. Darkness was creeping into your vision as you struggled to pull air into your lungs but it didn’t matter as you clung to Bucky’s hand one last time.

–

You were thrown back into the present and found yourself teetering on your feet but a pair of hands caught you, one warm and one cold.

“Are you alright?” he asked with concern written on his face.

You blinked dumbly as you stared into the pair of blue eyes of the man you had just spent a lifetime with. But these eyes were different. These eyes held the sadness from losing Steve and the loneliness that came with self-isolating. These eyes did not hold any love for you. These eyes didn’t know you.

But they would.

You had seen it.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes fanfic

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Anonymous: can we have dom reader breeding miranda please ❤️❤️

18+ Minors DNI

Fuck yes! Soft dom Y/N for this one. Y/N is gender neutral, but feel free to hc magic or science or whatever you want as the reason Y/N can get Miranda pregnant. Let’s get into it!

Miranda had always seemed to be in charge and, to a point, she was. But, when it comes to matters in the bedroom… That’s where she likes to relinquish some control.

You had never been more surprised than when you and Miranda had sex for the first time. Miranda whined softly as you kissed her neck and began begging for you to finish her… Begging. Mother Miranda. You know, ruler of the whole damn village?

Miranda shifts from being a power bottom to a sub. Sometimes she wants to tell you how to get her off and other times she wants you to tell her what to do.

Getting to see all of these sides of Miranda was beautiful.

Miranda has never experienced such love and intimacy during sex. You turn her on constantly.

But lately, Miranda has had a very particular craving… It makes her flush and her heart rate pick up just thinking about it.

She wants you to take her. Breed her. Knock her up. Make her yours completely… She had recently been weighing the pros and cons of having another baby. She decided that she really wanted to be a mother again. Also, sexually… It just seemed so deliciously dirty to her. Her body would be the confirmation that you had sex with her. It was an intoxicating thought.

Miranda is a straight shooter. Even though she’s worried about how you’ll react, she wants to be honest with you.

One evening at dinner, Miranda asks you what you think about having a child with her.

You inhale suddenly around a mouthful of food and begin coughing violently at her question.

Miranda rushes over to frantically pat your back. You eventually settle down and take a few deep breaths.

Miranda moves back to her chair and a few moments of silence pass. “So… I take that as a no?” She asks in disappointment.

Your eyes widen. “No! No, I didn’t say that! It’s just… Are you sure? I mean, are you sure you want to have a baby… With me?” You ask quietly. To be honest, you were flattered. Miranda typically sees things in black and white. There is usually never any gray area. If she loves you enough to want to have a baby with you… She must be completely serious. Wow, it really warms your heart to think about.

Miranda gently reaches over the table and grabs your hands before squeezing them. “I love you more than anything, Y/N. I’d like to extend that love to a little one as well. I wouldn’t dream of doing this with anyone else but you” She says with a smile.

You grin and shrug your shoulders. “Okay, what the hell. Let’s do it.” You say.

“Really?!” Miranda’s eyes are filled with hope.

You chuckle at how excited she is. “Yeah, I… Well, I’ve actually thought about this a bit before.” You admit with a blush. “I don’t really know how to care for a child, but… You do and I trust you, Miranda.” You tell her.

Miranda feels her eyes well up with tears. “Thank you, draga mea. You make me so happy.”

You go over and give her a kiss. “I love you.” You tell her as you look her in the eyes and cup her face.

You kiss her again and deepen it. As you pull away, Miranda is panting. She is already incredibly needy. “Y/N… Please. Take me.” She says breathily.

Your eyes cloud with lust at the submission in Miranda’s voice. You growl and quickly scoop her up into your arms, carrying her into the bedroom.

——————————————————————————

“Clothes off, doll baby.” You command in a low voice as you set her on the bed.

Miranda whimpers and shakily nods her head. “Y-yes, Y/N.” She tells you.

Miranda takes off her shirt and you eagerly pounce on top of her. You can’t wait any longer. You press heated kisses from her neck to the valley of her breasts.

“Mm… You’re so warm, babe.” You murmur in between kisses. You bite her neck roughly and Miranda keens in pleasure. She hopes it leaves a very noticeable mark.

“Let’s get this bra off.” You tell her.

Miranda quickly nods and undoes it for you.

You pull it off and throw it on the ground before sucking one of her perky pink nipples into your mouth. You start massaging her other breast with your hand.

Miranda squirms and gasps in pleasure. She loves having her breasts played with. They are so sensitive, she’s pretty sure she just had a small orgasm from your actions.

You release the hardening bud with a wet pop. “Now… I will be taking this skirt off.” You say. You unzip it and pull it off her slim, but shapely, hips. Your mouth waters at her creamy thighs. You run your tongue up the inside of her leg and surge forward to tug her arousal-soaked panties off with your teeth.

Miranda moans as she watches this. It’s so erotic for her.

You breathe in the sweet smell of Miranda’s sex and grip hard onto her hips before beginning to lap your tongue against her labia.

Miranda can’t help the little shriek of ecstasy that leaves her mouth as you work.

You chuckle. “So sensitive, doll baby. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, my good girl.” You tell her.

Miranda sighs dreamily as she hears this. She loves being told what to do, but she also likes praise.

You finally stick your tongue inside of Miranda and taste some of her love juices. She’s so delicious. You quickly make a meal of her as your tongue explores.

You begin to nibble at her clit while you replace your tongue with two fingers inside of her.

Miranda’s heavy panting becomes even more labored from the sensations you’re causing.

You quickly add a third and then a fourth finger as you thrust in her.

Miranda feels so full. She loves the feeling of you inside of her.

Soon enough, Miranda’s walls are already contracting and you know she’s close to an orgasm.

“Y/N! Please! Make me a mommy!” Miranda wails.

You quickly feel yourself coming undone from Miranda’s words.

“Look at me while you cum, Miranda!” You order and reach out to cup her face, forcing her to stare at you.

Miranda does as she’s told and locks eyes with you. She also cries out your name. “Y/NNNNN!!!”

You both climax at the exact same time.

You feel white hot pleasure erupt as you finish. Your body feels warm and tingly.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Miranda says softly from under you. This was everything she wanted. She is very satisfied… For right now, at least.

Due to Miranda’s mutation, and connection to the megamycete, she can feel subtle differences in her body almost immediately. Things other people not infected with the cadou or megemycete can’t. There’s a warm, thrumming sensation in her belly and Miranda knows that her body is reacting to your DNA beginning to fertilize her egg. A little one will be here soon, it seems. Her eyes water at this realization.

You are still breathing heavily, but you lean forward and place a meaningful kiss on Miranda’s stomach.

Miranda looks down at you and smiles gently. “I think you just put a baby in here.” She says aloud, running her hand along her tummy.

“What? You think so?!” You ask excitedly.

Miranda nods with a grin. “I can actually feel it, draga mea. Right here.” She reveals and places your hand over the spot on her tummy she’s talking about.

You laugh breathlessly. This is insane. “What, ‘cause of the megamycete?” You ask.

“Yes. You did this, Y/N. I’m so thankful.” Miranda says with the brightest smile you have ever seen. You think she looks so beautiful like this.

As you admire her, Miranda’s voice brings you back to the present before you get lost in your thoughts. “You naughty thing. What will the villagers say when they find out what you’ve done to their leader?” Miranda teases.

“Let 'em talk.” You say which makes Miranda laugh. “I want them to know you’re mine. I want you to grow big and round with my child. I want our love to be undeniable to everyone.” You tell her.

“Mm, my sentiments exactly, darling. My belly will bare the proof that I belong only to you as our little one grows inside of me. Entirely created by our love for one another.” She smiles and reaches out to rub your cheek with her thumb. “Draga mea… Thank you. Thank you for loving me. All of me.” She says. “You make every day better and I can’t wait to have your baby, my dear.” She says as a few tears trail down her cheeks.

Your eyes widen at the sweet comment. You crawl up beside her and cup her face. “I love you, Miranda. I’ll be here every step of the way.” You assure her.

You two sit and enjoy each other’s company for a while. Miranda lies against your front, rubbing and tracing little patterns on her stomach and you occasionally press kisses to the side of her face.

“You know…” You suddenly say. “There’s no harm in making sure that we made a baby.” You say deviously.

Miranda smirks. “Well, I think it’s safe to say that I’m already pregnant, but Y/N, Is that a proposition?” She asks and turns to look at you with a hooded gaze.

“You bet.” You growl and begin to get turned on again.

The rest of the night was spent… Increasing your chances.

Note: Her name’s not “Mother” Miranda for nothing ;) I don’t know, canonically, I think she actually would have a breeding kink… Just the vibe I get.

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #mother miranda #mother miranda x y/n #mother miranda x reader #resident evil village #resident evil imagines #resident evil 8 #resident evil #re8 shitpost

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prefer-to-be-vilified · 1 year

Text

I feel like I’d ship Wyler more if the Wyler fandom was more unhinged and really leant into the toxicity ya know. Because you can ship whatever you want, it’s a fictional relationship but they both ended season 1 actively trying to kill each other and also it would be really funny if they continued to remain super toxic

So for example, here are some Wyler headcanons I believe the Wyler fandom should adopt (just a suggestion do what you want idc):

- Wednesday exclusively refers to Tyler as ‘bitch boy’ or ‘shit head’

- Wednesday once got Tyler arrested by pretending he had kidnap her in public because she was bored

- They’re that couple that has really loud, aggressive arguments during important gatherings of friends and family (weddings, birthdays, baby showers etc.) making everyone present really uncomfortable

- Tyler can’t swim so Wednesday decided to push him off a bridge, she watched him flail around for 20mins as he made his way ashore while desperately trying not to drown (he’s now a mildly better swimmer)

- Tyler gaslit Wednesday into believing she started sleep massacre-ing when really he’s been drugging her post-dinner espresso, carrying her into the woods, covering her in animal blood and then straight up just leaving her there

- Wednesday starts wearing Tyler’s clothes to commit crimes and then leaves them at the scene

- Tyler pretends to flinch when Wednesday makes sudden movements around him because he thinks it’s funny that no one doubts she would beat him despite the fact that he’s twice her size and a Hyde

- Wednesday lies to Tyler’s probation officer so that he gets sent back to prison because and I quote “he was annoying me”

- Wednesday threatened to break up with him if Tyler didn’t transform into the Hyde and let her entire family hunt him for sport

- Tyler’s Hyde ate her stalker in a jealous rage after he wouldn’t take no for an answer and Wednesday didn’t speak to him for a week because she wanted to be the one to kill him

- Despite all of this they both insist that Enid should break up with Ajax because he looked at her funny once and their baby angel deserves better

#this is not anti-wyler I’m being 100% serious right now #but it is also a joke so don’t come for me #wednesday #wednesday addams #tyler galpin #enid sinclair #wyler #wenclair #wyclair #‘cause why not #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #ptbv

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nilolol30 · 4 months

Note

hiii! I hope your doing well today :D I was stalking your acc and your requests r open so, I’d like to request a red son x platonictwin!reader (like his elder twin sister) and their silly duality (like she’d be the brawn and red son would be the brains) you can do whatever power you want for her but I’d suggest aerokinesis (the ability to manipulate wind) hope your day goes well take care of yourself!! :D

(OMG sorry I got to this request so late and thank you! You take care of yourself too!)

Of course as most siblings do you two rough house all the time sometimes when you both are fighting Mk and Mei they get confused on who's fighting who.

But you both support and look out for eachother during anything.

Ofc you two train together often combining your powers together to deal bigger blows, Iron fan often watches if you look at the right time you'll see a faint smile.

Redson always comes up with tactics for a fight or mission he's very thorough in making sure you remember the details even the unimportant stuff.

You definitely prank eachother Redson never admits he does it but he does.

He hates when you use your wind to pull him around or toss him around.

Once he had to go to your room to wake you up and thinking back to all your pranks he decided to wake you up by shooting a line of flames over your head to startle you awake.

He wishes he had recorded that moment.

You both are protective of each other but mutually understand you can take care of yourselves so you both aren't overbearing.

You get to help out with his inventions but you just help him carry things, hand things to him and test the durability of the items.

He likes to show interest in your hobbies too, sometimes joining in as you do the same for him.

You both get excited about each others wins not surprisingly Redson is more enthusiastic about it especially when he's informing both of your parents about both of your victorys.

Iron fan finds it amusing when both of your habits rub off on eachother, Redson being a bit more of a brute or his speech matches yours and you getting a habit of calling Mk and Mei the nicknames Redson gave them or calling people peasants.

#lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #monkie kid x reader

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prettyyoungandbored · 7 months

Text

Viva Las Vegas - Johnny Knoxville

Pairing: Johnny Knoxville x Fem! Reader

Author’s Note: This is Johnny and Babydoll’s wedding in Vegas! Enjoy!

NOT MY GIF

They pulled into Las Vegas around 4:30 p.m. While the flight was short, the day felt like it was dragging on slowly. Anticipation and excitement filled both of Y/N and Johnny as the moment was slowly making its way.

They stopped at the car rental place near the airport and while Johnny filled out the forms, Y/N was on the phone with her best friend, Whitney.

“Are you getting excited?”

“Yeah! I mean, I feel excited and nervous and ready. Mostly ready.”

“Well, I wish I was there but I know you’ll look beautiful!I’ll be there for the party when you two love birds get back.”

“Of course! I’ll talk to you later. Love you!”

“Love you too, Mrs. Clapp!”

Y/N hung, butterflies fluttering at the sound of being called Mrs. Clapp. She could get used having his last name.

“You ready, Babydoll?” Johnny asked, cutting into her thoughts.

She nodded and took his hand. He led her outside to the car rental parking lot before approaching a white 1990 Ford mustang convertible.

“Ain’t she a beauty?” he asked.

“She is, but we should really find our a car because-.”

“This is our car.”

Y/N whipped her head to her soon-to-be husband. “PJ, you didn’t.”

“I don’t wanna hear you arguing,” he said. “It’s our special day, remember?”

She kissed his cheek. “I was just gonna say that it’s perfect.”

“Good.” He raced over to the passenger side and opened the door. “Now get in.”

===================================

The second they got into their hotel room, Y/N hopped in the shower. As she combed through her hair, washing out the conditioner, her mind wandered.

During the drive to the hotel, she couldn’t keep her eyes off Johnny. In a matter of hours, he would be her husband. The man she met on the set of “Jackass” who made her blush like a schoolgirl was now becoming her husband.

She had built of a life with him. They traded weekend shifts at each other’s apartments for a house and then separate hotel rooms for just one room during “Jackass” productions.

Soon, they would solidify their new life.

The sound of the shower curtain ring screeching interrupted her thoughts and she turned to see Johnny stepping in. He smiled at her adoringly, wrapping his arms from behind her.

“What’re you doing, my love?” she asked.

“Figured I’d save us some time and hop in the shower too,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder.

She hummed, turning around to throw her arms around his neck as his hands fell to her waist. “That’s all you’re doing, huh?”

“Maybe try to sneak in some fun before we head to the chapel,” he continued. “Just one last time before we make it official.”

“Youre playing a very dangerous game, Clapp.”

“The best kind of game.”

Their lips met as he used one hand to grab ahold of the back of her head, his fingers tangling into her wet hair. He wasn’t playing around, fighting to be the one in control.

But she pulled back and smile, keeping her eyes on him as she reached back to turn off the shower.

“You might wanna take a cold shower,” she remarked.

She pat his bare chest and stepped out. He pouted his lips. “C’mon, cutie!”

Sh ewrapped a towel around her body. “Don’t give me that face. You have all night to do whatever you want to me.”

He grinned. “Whatever I want?”

“As long as you don’t run out on me tonight.”

“I would never. You’re stuck with me forever!”

===================================

After getting ready in the hotel, she and Johnny made their way to the chapel. Both of them carried their wedding attire in garment bags in the event Johnny was stopped by a fan.

During the drive, her stomach twisted and turned in anticipation as her heart raced. She reached over to grab his free hand, which he welcomed.

They pulled into the parking lot of the chapel and the real countdown began.

She checked in at the front before she and Johnny broke apart to get changed.

The reality of it truly set in the moment she put on her wedding dress.

The satin white dress had a halter plunge cowl neckline that playfully teased her boobs. The bottom half of dress softly hugged her hips and butt.

She paired the dress with her mother’s pearl droplet earrings.

She smiled as she looked in the mirror. She felt like a goddess who descended from Mount Olympus. She knew Johnny was gonna lose his shit.

When she walked out of the bathroom, she handed the employee her garment bag with her street clothes. She looked to see Johnny standing in the lobby in a fitted black tuxedo and his signature red converse.

Here it goes.

She cleared her throat as she made her way to him. He turned to face her, his expression softening. His dark brown eyes twinkled in amazement as tears began to pool in his eyes.

“Babydoll,” he breathed. “You look…wow.”

“You like it?” she laughed, slightly nervous.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “So, so, beautiful.”

He wiped his eyes, laughing softly. “Goddamit.”

His tears brought tears to her own eyes. She tried to keep her composure as she took her hands in his. “I’m really glad you like it.”

He gave her hands a squeeze. “No turning back now.”

“No turning back now,” she agreed. “It’s us against the world.”

Then she remembered something.

“Hey, so, before you go, in,” she began, “I decided not to go through with an Elvis impersonator.”

Before he could even respond, a deep southern drawl chimed in.

“Ya’all the Clapp couple?”

Johnny’s eyes widened at the Johnny Cash impersonator standing in front of them. Not only did this man have the accent down pat, but he looked awfully like the legend himself.

“We are,” Y/N confirmed with a smile.

“Great. We have a couple employees who are willing to be witnesses.” He turned to Johnny. “You ready, son?”

Johnny nodded his head, willing to go wherever Fake Johnny Cash told him to go.

Fake Johnny Cash pat his shoulder. “Follow me, son. Let’s get this started.”

“I…yeah, ok.”

Johnny turned to Y/N and mouthed “I love you so fucking much.”

She chuckled as she watched him follow Fake Johnny Cash inside the chapel.

She took a moment to herself, smoothing out her dress with the palm of her hands. Before taking a step, she heard, “oh Miss!”

She turned to see the woman from the front desk with a makeshift bouquet of fake flowers.

“Every bride needs one,” she winked.

“Thank you so much,” Y/N said,

The front desk woman hurried off as Y/N took a deep breath and walked through the doors.

As she made her way into the small and quaint chapel, Fake Johnny Cash serenaded her with “Walk the Line.”

She smile, keeping her eyes on Johnny who was beaming at her.

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine

I keep my eyes wide open all the time I keep a close watch on this heart of mine

I keep my eyes wide open all the time

I keep the ends out for the tie that binds

Because you're mine, I walk the line

I find it very, very easy to be true

I find myself alone when each day is through

Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you

Because you're mine, I walk the line

I keep the ends out for the tie that binds

Because you're mine, I walk the line

When she finally stood beside Johnny, Fake Johnny Cash set down the guitar and stood at the podium.

“Folks, we’re gathered here tonight because these two kids decided they wanted to walk the line together for the rest of their lives,” Fake Johnny Cash said.

As Fake Johnny Cash proceeded with his sermon, Y/N kept her eyes on Johnny. This was it. The second they kissed, they would officially become man and wife. They could start their life.

“Do you, Y/N M/N L/N, take Phillip John Clapp to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Fake Johnny Cash asked Y/N.

“I do,” she nodded, tears pooling in her eyes as she slid the silver wedding band on Johnny’s ring finger.

“And do you, Phillip John Clapp take Y/N M/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do,” he replied, sliding the silver band on her ring finger.

“Well, then. By the power vested in me and in the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Son, you may now-.”

Johnny wasted no time as he grabbed Y/N’s face and pulled her in for a kiss. They tuned out both Fake Johnny Cash and the employees who applauded the couple.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.

“I love you, Babydoll,” he whispered.

“I love you too, PJ.”

=======================================

The second they were done with the photos and the check out process, Johnny and Y/N rushed to their convertible.

“We’re fuckin’ married!” Y/N screamed out at the night as they drove through the city to get back to the hotel.

“HELL YEAH WE ARE!”Johnny yelled, raising one fist while holding the wheel with the other.

The second the car came to a stop at a red light, Y/N leaned over the console, giving Johnny a kiss on the cheek.

“So what’s next, Mr. Clapp?” she asked. “You got the girl of your dreams for the rest of your life. How are you gonna celebrate?”

He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

“Great question, Mrs. Clapp,” he said. “I actually have a couple ideas.”

#johnny knoxville x reader #johnny knoxville #jackass #jackass fanfic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

AITA for not picking up on my friends “hints” + cutting off a friend after they ghosted me?

So a while back I (22 F) visited my friend (22 F) in another state to celebrate our 21st birthdays (hers was two months beforehand but I had to cancel my visit due to a family emergency). For context, me and this friend have been best friends since we were 9-10 years old.

Before we got together we got on FaceTime and made a very loose plan of what we wanted to do during my visit. That outline included things like ‘shopping’, ‘going out for dinner’ on my birthday, ‘baking a pie’ (since Friend had previously mentioned she admired my baking skills and said she thought it would be fun to bake together) and ‘roller skating’ since it was something we always did as kids. When I arrived at her house I said something akin to “I’m so excited, I saved up a ton of money so we can do whatever we want” and she said “same, I saved up about a thousand dollars” but proceeded to say she wasn’t broke and didn’t have any money for the rest of our time together.

I already know this is going to be long, so tldr; we did all our planned activities except going to the roller rink for reasons I’ll explain later; she paid for two ride shares on my first day and offered to buy me lunch, which I accepted. I paid for the next five rides, and we split any other meals that we didn’t eat at her home, except for when she offered to buy me an iced latte my birthday. The night of my birthday we, to my knowledge, didn’t have any concrete plans for dinner. She suggested one restaurant but for whatever reason I wasn’t feeling it so I asked if there was anything else we’d both like. She suggested a Japanese restaurant and that’s where we ended up. The dinner extremely uncomfortable—she didn’t seem outwardly angry, but she only gave brief responses any time I tried to make conversation, and when I couldn’t get anything else out of her we ate in silence.

Her birthday present to me were custom roller skates she’d ordered in my favorite colors. It was a very nice present! But at the time it felt like a slap in the face because by that point I figured that I’d be paying for the rest of our rides, something I didn’t plan on, and I neither had the money nor thought it was fair for me to do that, so we never went roller skating. When it was time for me to leave I asked if she could mail the skates to me (and I’d pay her back whatever it cost to mail), because I already had several large bags to take with me on the plane and would be uncomfortable carry the large box of skates around the airport as well. She never sent them, and i later found out she returned them.

I was very angry and frustrated when I got home, and didn’t text her for about two weeks (this was not intentional, I got busy with work). When I finally did text her she ignored me and ghosted me for four months. When she did finally reply she said a lot of the things I did during the trip upset her. We called to talk it out and she essentially said she felt taken advantage of because she felt like she was made to pay for everything (rides, food, etc.) She said I bought something at the mall but she felt like I was pressuring her into buying it for me (never in all our years of friendship have I asked or expected her to purchase random things for me? I asked her what I did to make her feel this way and she couldn’t give me a straight answer?) and that she spent so much money she had to borrow from her parents for the rest of the month. But I don’t know what I could have done since we split everything besides what she offered to pay for me? She also said that she made reservations at the first restaurant she suggested and paid them to make a cake for me, and had to pay a cancellation fee because we didn’t go, but she never told me that because it was a surprise and just hoped I’d pick up on ‘hints’ instead. She also says she was upset that we baked the pie because ‘her family didn’t even like pie’ and it went to waste. She said she tried to give ‘hints’ that she didn’t want to make it, but she didn’t have any objections when I first suggested it? It wasn’t super important to me, just a fun thing to do, so if she didn’t want to I wouldn’t have minded at all?

She also was upset with me because on the day I left, I wanted to visit my father (he lived in the same city) before my flight. When I mentioned where I was meeting him, Friend’s father said he knew where I was going and could drive me since it was only 10 minutes down the road. Friend said she felt like I was using her family and that it was wrong of me to ‘ask her dad for a ride’ because he works so hard and was tired all the time. But I didn’t ask, he offered? And my mother has been a surrogate parent to Friend since we were children, helping her with everything (relationship advice, finances and medical debt, driving her across states to go apartment hunting) her actual parents neglected to. So I didn’t understand why having that kind of relationship with my mother is okay, but me getting driven 10 minutes down the road crosses a line? In the moment I was happy to have talked everything out with her, but the more I thought about her gripes, the more angry and frustrated I became. And I bottled this anger until I couldn’t take it anymore and sent her a brief text that basically said I was better off when we weren’t talking and I was learning to live my life without her (this was a horrible and mean thing to say to her, and I have since apologized). A few days later she sent me a message back saying I was a very special person to her, that she’d always love me. We didn’t talk properly for about a year and a half after that. She’d text me on my birthday and holidays but that’s it. We’re speaking again now, but she said she still felt like I used her for money or that I’m somehow in the wrong for not picking up on her ‘hints’ during my visit, and that me ghosting her was deeply hurtful and she cried for weeks about it. I have complicated feeling about that though because I didn’t WANT to hurt her, i only wanted to remove myself from a situation that was making me so perpetually angry I was getting headaches daily, and I wouldn’t have even considered ghosting her until after she ghosted me.

She mentioned visiting each other/going on a trip together sometime in the future, but the idea gives me so much anxiety because I don’t want to go through this all over again. Did I use her? Was I in the wrong for not picking up on her hints or ghosting her?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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dontbesoweirdkira · 2 months

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How many children would each of the Salieri men have? -Anon

A/N: Okay this is a response to a inbox request. For some reason I cannot find it anymore?? Sometimes my inbox eats up y’all’s messages. I’m so sorry!! ANYWAYS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING THIS!! I KNOW EXACTLY HOW MANY.

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

Sam

I know I’ve written before that he wants kids with his wife but that’s delusional ¡Yandere! Sam who’s only doing that to baby trap you.

I think he truly doesn’t wants kids and would be perfectly fine if you couldn’t bear any. I think the true reason why he goes through with it is because of the time that he’s in.

Hotshot mob-boss Sam would need to have children because he’d eventually need to have a successor for the family.

Needs come before wants😪

Plus it’d look so weird if he willingly chose not to have any when he can. During that time if you were married with absolutely no kids by like the second year…*side eyed* (exaggeration but y’know)

Please no more than 2 tho. Only wants a son but would be okay with having daughter if he also had a son.

Would be an okay father tho so don’t worry too much. He’s like a dad that swears he hates dogs and if his family gets one he won’t take care of it but once the dog is around he switches up.

Yeah that’s him, he loves his kids a lot. He doesn’t always know how to show it and he’s kind of both physically and emotionally absent.

He does provide them with everything and if they are giving you a hard time he will defend you.

Paulie

You cannot change my mind on this. He wants the most kids and has the strongest desire for them.

This man is a hopeless romantic and he reeeeallly wants to have a perfect large family. I read a headcannon once that said Paulie had a very abusive father and the Mob was his ticket out of that. I believe that too and he wants to become the father he never had.

He fantasizes about being the best dad ever and having the whole family work together in his pizza joint. How beautiful his wife would look carrying his kids.

He wants 6-12 kids…3 boys and 3 girls if it’s 6 or 7boys and 5 girls if it’s 12.

Have you seen that scene in shameless where the guy goes “I HAVE A MAGICAL DICK” after finding out his wife is having twins…yeah that’s Paulie

Seriously this is his dream and if he ever becomes a father he’d never shut up about it. #1 PTA dad. He’s extremely involved with his children’s life. He’ll go through insane lengths to protect his children from a horrible childhood.

Tommy

The original “whatever my wife wants, I’m happy with” man.

I think he’s indifferent about the whole concept of having kids..? Like having kids would be nice….so is not having kids. Doesn’t really care about the societal pressure to have them at all.

He cares about his wife more than any of that junk. If having children would be too much of a strain on your life then don’t worry about it.

To be honest he’s kind of worried to have children because any day he could be gone and now his partner would be left as a single mother. :/

So I’m going to say while he’s actively in the mob he’d be leaning towards a no. But if this is after he’s escaped and you’ve settled down, Tommy is down for it.

Maybe 1-4 kids. Keeping it rather light and traditional. I don’t think this man would handle more than that tbh. Hes certified tired™️ and the more kids the less sleep.

I have a feeling though that he’d have all girls. He’s actually okay with that though. Mobster in a tutu to make his girls smile🤣

I’d say he’d be a normal suburban dad but I think he’s slightly too reserved and dangerous for that.

The family dynamic is super normal. He goes out to work to provide for y’all and when he gets home he’ll help the kids with homework.

We all know Tom is extremely loyal and loving so his kids are his world. They mean absolutely everything to him and he’ll do whatever it takes to help guide them through life.

#headcanon #mafia headcanon #mafia definitive edition #mafia trilogy #mafia game #sam trapani x reader #sam trapani #tommy angelo #tommy Angelo x reader #paulie lombardo #Paulie Lombardo x reader #mafia imagines #mafia 3 #mafia 1 #mafia ii

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niqhtlord01 · 1 year

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Humans are weird: Space Werewolf

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“You can buy something or leave,” the barkeep shouted at the figures standing in the doorway, “but you aren’t heat.”

The trio figures hovering at the doorway looked around the room once more and then entered. All of them wore long cloaks that hid most of their features. Two of them went to the back of the bar and sat at a table facing the door while the third went over to the counter.

“A minute longer and I’d have pulled out my gun.” The barkeep remarked with a smirk as the figure stopped opposite him. They pulled back their hood to reveal their face and the barkeep’s eyes widened for a moment in surprise.

“A human,” the barkeep remarked as he pulled out a special bottle from beneath the counter, “I think this bottle of rum is still good.”

The human looked at the bottle and nodded as the barkeep began filling up three glasses. When he finished he waited for a moment before the human took the meaning and tossed several coins over to him. “Send the rest to my friends and keep them coming.”

“Whatever you say, so long as you keep the coins coming.” The barkeep waved one of his waiters over who carried the other two drinks to the human’s companions.

“You don’t seem surprised to see us.” The human said as he took the first glass and downed it.

The barkeep shrugged. “You’d be surprised what kind of traffic my humble establishment brings in, Mr…?”

“Hooper.” The human replied as he took his drink and swirled it in his hand. He looked up from his drink and took another glance around the room.

“Have you seen any other humans come by here?” Hooper asked. The barkeep smiled and smoothed down his back quills. For all their bluster, humans were some of the worst people to hide their intentions.

“I may have, but I see a lot of people.”

The human reached into their pocket and tossed several more coins on to the table. The barkeep scooped them up and grinned.

“Now that you mention it, there has been a human who frequents here recently; comes in every night after work shifts end.”

If this was the answer the human wanted they gave no sign. Instead they reached into a different pocket and pulled out a data pad. They keyed in several runes before spinning it around for the barkeep to see. “Is this them?”

Leaning closer, the picture on the data pad was that of another human. A female, if the barkeep had to guess; but then again all humans looked the same to him. She had shoulder length hair, a few patches of freckles here and there, and a small scar on the right corner of her mouth.

“That’s her.” The barkeep said as he went back to pouring another glass for Hooper. “Never met a human so friendly with aliens, but she certainly made herself a spot in town.”

Hooper set down the data pad at the barkeeps chuckling statement and looked him in the eye. “Why do you say that?”

The barkeep shrugged. “I’m not one for gossip, but I heard she has been making some very “special” friends all over town since she arrived; if you know what I mean.” He took a look around before leaning over to Hooper and whispered “I hear she likes to bite them during her throws of passion.”

Hooper’s hands were around the barkeeps collar in a flash and he all but lifted the poor alien across the bar as if he weighed nothing.

“What did you say?!”

The barkeep stammered in Hooper’s grasp as his other two companions stood from their table and joined their leader. “What’s wrong?” one of them asked, but Hooper kept his gaze fixed on the barkeep.

“I would answer him if you enjoy your head being attached to your shoulders.” the other human asked as the fumbling barkeep’s hands did little to free himself from Hooper’s grip.

“All I said was she liked to bite during-“

Hooper let go of the barkeep and he fell hard to the ground behind the counter as he turned to converse with his companions. “If she has been spreading her curse every night since her arrival…” one of the still hooded humans began. “We should not panic,” the other cut in, “we still don’t know if it can affect non-humans.”

“We may be too late.” Hooper finished.

The sound of a powering up plasma caster made the trio turn around to see the barkeep back on their feet and pointing their weapon at the three of them.

“You get out of my bar or I will use your blood to varnish my floors!” they announced loudly. The other patrons of the bar watched on in silence at the standoff, none daring to move for fear of what would happen next.

Hooper slowly turned back around to the barkeep and kept his voice level. “Listen to me very carefully;” he began in a solemn tone, “everyone in this town is in grave danger.”

As the plasma caster reached full power and chimed the barkeep kept moving it back and forth between the three of them in an attempt to cover them all. “You’re the only ones in danger here, now get out!” the barkeep replied unconvinced.

“Very well.” Hopper said as he held his hands up to show he was no threat. “Just answer one last question and you’ll not see us again.”

“I said-“ the barkeep began but Hooper cut him off.

“One. Question.” He said slowly. “That is all.”

The barkeep pondered in silence as the plasma caster hummed rhythmically. It felt like an eternity before he relented and nodded to Hooper. “Fine; one question and then you leave!”

“When is your next full moon?” Hooper asked.

Whatever the barkeep had been expecting this certainly wasn’t it. “What stupid question is that?” Hooper remained stone faced but said nothing.

“The next full moon is tonight.” The barkeep replied, and then motioned to the door with his weapon. “Now get out of my-“

“ARAAHGGHA!!!!”

Screams from the corner of the bar drew the attention of the three humans and the barkeep as a patron who had been silently cowering under his table began screaming loudly. They were an Iso, a mantis like alien species roughly human size but retaining many of the insect like qualities.

Stumbling out from underneath their table they cradled their head between their forewings as they screamed endlessly. Tables and chairs were knocked out of their way as they stumbled sending glasses shattering everywhere.

The barkeep watched on in silence as the Iso finally stopped near the center of the room; their body jerking and twisting violently. The forewings began seemingly splintering as a second set of them ripped away from the originals and flailed about wildly. Bumps and growths appeared all over their chest as it expanded outward giving the Iso a sudden three foot height increase with their head now bumping into the ceiling. Worst yet and most confusing were the clumps of black fur appearing around the joints of the Iso where their exoskeleton did not cover them.

Without warning or hesitation Hooper reached beneath his cloak and pulled out a weapon of his own and fired it at the Iso. His shot was true and it hit center mass, but whatever ammunition he had been using harmlessly bounced off the exoskeleton of the Iso and ricocheted back behind the bar mere inches from the barkeep’s head.

“Frak!” Hooper shouted, tossing the weapon aside. “They bounced off!” They turned to their companions who were already spreading out in the bar surrounding the Iso. One of them pulled out a short barreled plasma caster of their own and fired it. The ball of plasma rolled through the air like a baseball before hitting the Iso in the chest much like the previous projectile had, only this time the Iso screamed out in pain as a portion of the exoskeleton melted away.

The reprieve was short lived though as no sooner had the exoskeleton cooled did it begin to reform itself. In an instant the damage that had been done had all but been erased; and the Iso finally stopped screaming and looked down with pure rage at the humans trying to kill them.

A set of forewings lashed out turning tables and chairs into a shower of deadly splinters straight into the human with the plasma caster. They had just enough time to raise an arm to protect their face but couldn’t stop the rest from impacting their body. They stumbled back as a table leg lodged itself into their leg, dropping the plasma caster as they used their hands to stabilize themselves.

Before the Iso could rush the downed human Hooper rushed in and lashed out at it with a mace of some kind. The sound of cracking exoskeleton could be heard as the Iso let out another cry of pain before back handing Hooper and sending him flying into the barkeep.

The two fell hard to the floor as bottles fell around them showering them in glass and cheap liquor. “What the hell is going on here!?!?” the barkeep shouted as he dropped his gun and tried to push Hooper off of him. The pair struggled for a few seconds as each tried to rise at the same time and only got in each other’s way. Finally Hooper got to his feet and peered over the counter to see his companions still duking it out with the monstrous Iso.

“They’re infected.” Hooper said calmly as he pulled a small satchel out. He flipped it open quickly and selected several strange vials to begin mixing.

“Infected with what?!” The barkeep asked in disbelief as he joined Hooper in peering over the counter just in time to see one of the humans pick up a chair and bring it down hard on the Iso’s legs. The Iso screeched and dropped down while the other human ran forward, now wearing a metallic glove of some sort, and proceeded to smash the Iso’s face in with a rapid fire of punches.

“Lycanism.” Hooper replied calmly. “We used to have it under control on our homeworld, but as soon as space travel was discovered the infected began wandering across the galaxy.”

“You had this under control?!” The barkeep shouted in disbelief as they ducked just in the nick of time to avoid another shower of splinters. Hooper shrugged. “It was easier when it was just humans being infected.”

Hooper added the final ingredient and the new concoction glowed with an eerie green glow. “Thankfully this should take care of the problem.”

A sudden noise from the other side of the bar made Hooper and the barkeep look to see several of the other patrons who had been cowering now begin screaming and clutching their head just like the Iso had done moments before.

“How many partners did the woman have?” Hooper asked as he quickly started mixing several more vials of contents.

“I-I-I’d say half the town.” The barkeep stammered as he watched several patrons deforming in violent ways and begin to be enveloped by the same black fur. Hooper grunted and worked faster.

This night was far from over for the hunters, and they had yet to even find their original prey.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #werewolf #werewolves #hunter #fantasy #silver bullets

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peachy-panic · 9 months

Text

It's Nice To Have A Friend

Here it is, the chapter I've been mud-wrestling with for a literal month. Jaime and Ezra finally meet :)

(yes the title is a t-swift reference)

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-adjacent, brief mentions of past foster system, mentions of grief/parental loss

< PREVIOUS

The car radio carries on for several minutes after Sebastian kills the engine, then, eventually, that shuts off too. The silence they’re left with is all the more heavy given the remote location. Still, neither of them make a move to get out. Sebastian will gladly wait all day, if that’s what Jaime needs.

A couple of times, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye; Jaime’s hand twitches toward the door handle, then flattens back against his thigh.

“We don’t have to do this today,” Seabstian says. “No one will be upset if you want to back out and go home.”

“I know,” Jaime answers too immediately to be completely true. Sebastian glances over to find the familiar crease between his brows. He waits him out a few more seconds.

“Whatever it is, you can say it.”

Jaime takes a breath. “It’s just him here?” he asks. “Your friend Ezra? No one else?”

“No one else,” he promises. “Ezra’s partner won’t be back until he gives him the word.”

Sam, of course, was perfectly happy to skip out for the day in the sole interest of making Jaime more comfortable. Sebastian finds himself, not for the first time, marveling at the generosity of this group of people he has found himself entwined in. He can’t imagine handling this contract without their support.

“And you won’t…” Jaime pauses.

He gives him a second to find his words. “Won’t what, Jaime?”

“You won’t leave me alone with him?”

Sebastian grinds down hard on his molars and pointedly does not let himself think about the kinds of situations Jaime may have found himself in during past contracts to make him ask something like that. He absolutely does not let it show in his expression.

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he promises.

Jaime lets a narrow wisp of a sigh slide between his lips. “I think I’d feel better if you stayed with me.”

And that… sort of knocks the wind out of him. Because, on one hand, that could be a crock of shit fed to him by handlers to make him feel reliant on the person who holds his contract. On the other hand, Sebastian has somehow made the jump in Jaime’s mind from active threat to someone he feels better around in the presence of strangers, and that is not a privilege he is about to take lightly.

“Then I’ll stay,” he says.

“Okay,” Jaime breathes, sounding genuinely relieved. He nods once, setting a look of determination over his features. “I’m ready.”

****

Jaime positions himself slightly behind Sebastian as they approach the door.

“We can tap out at any time,” Sebastian reminds him. “Just give me the word and we’ll go.”

Jaime nods, even though Sebastian isn’t looking at him. He stands stiffly, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides, as Sebastian knocks. A few seconds later, the door swings inward and Jaime forces his feet to stay planted where they are.

The man standing in the doorway is nothing like the image Jaime had in his head. He didn’t have much to go on, physically, from Sebastian’s description, but in hindsight, Jaime realizes he was picturing someone more like himself. Someone shrunken and cowering, someone visibly less alive to the naked eye.

The man he presumes to be Ezra is none of those things. He stands taller than both Jaime and Sebastian, with light brown skin and dark hair twisted into a bun at the crown of his head. Like the sweater he wears over a pair of jeans, the smile that spreads across his expression is unmistakably warm. He looks strong. He looks like nothing could ever scare him. Jaime can’t help but stare.

“Hello.” Sebastian gives a small wave.

“Sebastian.” Ezra nods. “Glad you could make it.” They don’t reach for a handshake or a hug, but the familiarity is obvious anyway. His eyes shift to Jaime. “Hi, there,” he says.

Jaime swallows. “Hello, sir.”

“Ezra, please,” he says, and his smile doesn’t falter a bit. “There are no formal titles in my house. What would you like me to call you?

Jaime turns to Sebastian, who offers an encouraging nod. They’d talked about it beforehand—that Jaime is safe and allowed to use his real name around Ezra, and that he already knows that Sebastian knows it, too. That doesn’t make it any easier to get used to.

“My name is Jaime,” he says after only a short beat of hesitation.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jaime. Please, come in.”

The house is beautiful. Big, but not arrogant. It’s not immaculate and sleek like Mr. Torley’s or Bryan’s, but well lived-in. Taken care of in a way that reflects how cherished it is to the people who live there. Mostly, Jaime just keeps thinking this house belongs to Ezra.

“You’re welcome to keep your shoes on or take them off,” Ezra says, immediately clocking the silent way he watches the two of them for a cue. “However you feel most comfortable is fine with me.”

Sebastian slips out of his sneakers, but Ezra keeps his on, leaving Jaime momentarily torn. In the end, he decides to follow his Keeper, bending down to untie the high-tops Sebastian bought for him.

“Smells incredible in here,” Sebastian says, stepping further into the house.

“I’d be flattered, but I think you’d say the same if I’d ordered pizza.”

“And it would be true either way.”

Jaime watches from a detached distance, surprised at their easy banter. He’s not sure he’s ever seen this side of Sebastian, but it immediately sets him a little more at ease. Ezra is obviously someone he trusts.

“I’m finishing up a few things in the kitchen,” Ezra says, leading them further into the house. “The two of you can keep me company at the bar, if you’d like.”

Sebastian pulls out two stools along the raised counter that separates the kitchen from the living area, and Jaime climbs obligingly into his. It feels intrinsically wrong to be sitting like a houseguest while someone else cooks, but he supposes that is exactly what he is expected to be tonight. His mind supplies the memory of his twenty-four hour contract on Christmas eve, where he spent the night at a lush family dinner, pretending to be a rich man’s arm candy, which does nothing to settle his nerves. He forces his thoughts back to the present.

“Would you like something to drink?” Ezra offers, already pouring himself a glass of wine. Jaime eyes the liquid, once again looking to Sebastian for a cue.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Sebastian says. He told Jaime beforehand that he would stay sober in case he—in his words—needs to play getaway driver at some point, but that Jaime is welcome to drink if he likes.

“Jaime? A drink?” Ezra offers, tilting the neck of the bottle toward a second empty glass.

He swallows, remembering the burn of each sip that Mr. Torley would coax down his throat. “It’s alcoholic?” he asks stupidly.

“Doesn’t have to be,” Ezra says easily. “I’ve also got iced tea, coffee, lemonade.”

“Water?”

A small smile quirks at the corner of Ezra’s mouth, but it doesn’t feel unkind. “Of course.” He pours a glass of water from a filtered jug and sets it in front of him.

Jaime takes a few sips, mostly to have something to do with his hands, and observes quietly. He finds himself watching Ezra closely, fascinated and curious and bewildered, as he makes his way around the kitchen. There is a certain practiced grace to his movements that Jaime recognizes with a bit of a chill. The way his fingers poise around the handle of a knife in just the perfect way, how he stands with his shoulders back, even when he’s looking down at a cutting board. He can feel the pull of muscle memory in his own back, feel the brush of a handler’s fingers on his spine, hear them whisper in his ear, stand up straight, trainee.

A morbid thought invades his mind: that Ezra’s skill in the kitchen—and whatever other learned skills he brought with him from his time as a Companion—are part of the reason his partner was drawn to him in the first place.

But Sebastian called him his partner. That word implies a level of equality. And that… Well, that opens the door to even more questions. Jaime hasn’t allowed himself to think much about it since entering the system, but now he has to wonder: is that kind of relationship equality even possible for someone with a past like Ezra’s? Like his own?

It’s such a surreal thought. He still hasn’t quite wrapped his head around it. This person in front of him—this person with a real name, a real home, a real partner, a life—used to be a Companion. Used to be. It’s not a sentence that even makes sense in his head. For as long as Jaime has been acquainted with the system—both inside of it and out—there has been no way out short of a body bag.

It’s built into the structure. It’s a lifetime commitment. Companions can be reassigned designations, transferred to different locations, and even shifted to government-direct work when they reach a certain age, but no one ever retains their freedom in the end. There are barriers too tall to escape: high tech locks on the back of their collars, unbreakable metal binding it together. Trackers embedded under their skin, into the surface of their skulls behind their ears. All their money and resources are drained the moment they “sign the contract.”

But here is Ezra, in the flesh, defying everything Jaime believed to be true.

The thought unsettles him. Sitting still and watching someone else prepare a meal for him unsettles him. The empty patch of skin at his throat where Jaime knows a collar used to exist unsettles him. But he can only fix one of those problems. He shifts on his barstool, inching toward the edge, and clears his throat.

“Can I help with anything?” he asks.

Beside him, Sebastian tenses. He begins to say something along the lines of, “You don’t have to—”

But Ezra interjects before he can finish the thought. “You’re certainly welcome to, if you’d like,” he says. “The sourdough is cooling now; it should be ready to slice, if you’d like to do that?”

Relief sags his shoulders. Out of instinct, he looks to Sebastian, who offers a smile that he takes as approval. Jaime slides off of his stool, and Ezra sets him up with a cutting board and a serrated knife. Out of the corner of his eye, Ezra works steadily at his own workstation, piping a bag of frosting over some puff pastries.

The conversation picks up again. Every once in a while, one or both of them make an effort to pull Jaime in, but he is more than happy to just listen. The soft cadence of their voices and the repetition of the task in his hands slowly lulls him into something more like relaxation.

“Sebastian mentioned you like cooking,” Ezra says, passing Jaime a basket for the bread.

“I do,” he says. Briefly, he wonders if Ezra had the same thought that Jaime had about him and his partner. He wonders if he should say something in Sebastian’s defense, to make it clear that Jaime is never obliged to do the cooking, but Ezra chuckles before he can.

“I’m sure Tate is happy to have someone around who knows how to use a skillet.”

“He always helps me,” Jaime adds quickly.

Ezra and Sebastian share a quick smile. “That’s good to hear. I’m sure he has a lot to learn from you.”

Sebastian feigns offense with a dramatic scoff. “You tell a guy about your affection for frozen burritos once!”

“Well,” Ezra says, reaching behind himself to untie his apron. “I can only hope this meal will hold up to your sophisticated palate.”

The three of them carry the food into the dining area. The table is long—long enough to make Jaime question just how many people a fugitive like Ezra keeps in his circle.

“So,” Ezra says, folding into the chair at the head of the table. Jaime and Seabstian each take one side of him. “For the main, we have beef brisket with rosemary and garlic. On the side: smashed fingerlings and roasted Brussels sprouts with a chili oil infused honey glaze. And the sourdough, of course, with some freshly churned sea-salt butter.”

“Oh my god,” Sebastian says, looking out over the spread with genuine adoration. “Thank you so much, Ez. It all looks amazing.”

“Let’s not leave it to sight, shall we? Dig in.”

As both Ezra and Sebastian reach for serving spoons, he must catch a flash of Jaime’s hesitation, because without looking up from the task at hand, he says, “No one goes hungry in my home, Jaime. I expect you to serve yourself as much as you want, eat what you like and ignore what you don’t, and know that I will be thrilled if you reach for seconds but not disappointed if you do not.”

Jaime blinks at him, and Ezra looks up just long enough to meet his eyes.

“Are you okay with that?”

In the back of his mind, he remembers the face of the woman who ran Jaime’s last group home. My boys don’t go hungry, she told him on his first night. He thinks she would have liked Ezra. He reminds him a bit of her. And that’s the thought that makes him nod in agreement and reach for the last unclaimed spoon.

For a few minutes, Jaime allows himself to slink back into the background, happily listening to the easy back-and-forth between Sebastian and Ezra. The food is incredible, but Jaime knew it would be. After all, they are trained to be the best.

“What else do you like to do, Jaime?” Ezra asks, pulling him into the conversation. “Beyond supervising Sebastian in the kitchen.”

His fingers twitch around his fork at the unexpected attention, but he recovers quickly. “I like to run,” he says. It’s an easy enough answer—WRU-approved and the one personal fact he’s already divulged to Sebastian as well.

“Speed or long distance?”

“Either,” he says. “Both.”

“Well, I bet that made morning sessions a bit more bearable in training, at least.”

Jaime goes still. Across from him, Sebastian’s fingers clench around his fork. Neither of these things seem to deter Ezra’s co-conspiratorial smile in the slightest. Jaime, anxious under the silence, is the first to speak.

“I’m… I’m not allowed to dis—”

“Discuss the confidential training periods,” he finishes softly. “I know.”

And it’s so bind-bendingly bizarre, because he’s hearing those words, in that cadence, from the mouth of a man who has a house and a partner and a life that stretches far beyond anything Jaime has allowed himself to hope for, but it’s undeniable. Ezra used to be like him. Ezra knows what it is like to be in his shoes, and he is on the other side of it. And still, he remembers the rules as easily as breathing.

“Jaime,” Ezra says carefully. “You don’t have to divulge anything you do not wish to. I won’t push you. But for what it’s worth—which I fully recognize is very little at this point—whatever you say to me will never make it back to anyone who might hurt you. I know you have not been allowed to speak freely for some time, but you can do so here, if you’d like.” A small smile cracks through his somber tone. “Or, alternatively, you can make things up. Lie to me all you want, I won’t get mad. It’s your choice.”

Slowly, Jaime brings his eyes back to his plate, pushing around a piece of meat with his fork, because nothing about this evening is easy to process quickly. After a moment, he clears his throat and says, “I like soccer.”

The admission is followed by a whoosh of air expelling from his lungs, because he hasn’t talked about—or even let himself think about—that part of his life in so long. Most days, it feels more like a detail about a character he read in a book rather than a piece of his reality. A reality that suddenly feels not so far back.

Because it’s not, he reminds himself. It wasn’t very long ago at all.

Across from him, Sebastian perks up, eyes alight. “You do?” he asks, sounding genuinely surprised and disproportionately happy. “Did you play?”

Jaime nods.

“Is that one a lie or a truth?” Ezra asks, still grinning ruefully at him.

“It’s true.”

“Good to know,” Ezra says. “I played soccer, too. Very briefly, when I was young. But I’ve always enjoyed being active.”

“It…” Jaime begins, surprising himself by being the one to offer up more information. “It helps. Moving, I mean. Sebastian has been running with me sometimes.”

Ezra turns to Sebastian, one brow raised. “Has he now?”

“He’s being nice,” Sebastian says. “What I actually do is kind of limp behind him while he leaves me in the dust.” He casts a glance at Jaime on the last part, and he has to duck his head to hide the smile playing at his lips.

“If you ever want another workout partner, I’ve got a gym set up in the basement. You’re welcome to it any time. No soccer nets, I’m afraid, but I’ve got plenty of cardio and sparring gear, if you’re interested.”

“Sparring?” Jaime asks.

Ezra nods. “Mixed martial arts, kickboxing. I’m not a professional by any means, but I can hold my own.”

“I didn’t know that,” Sebastian says.

At this, Ezra’s smile goes a little crooked. “I’m full of surprises,” he says, then turns back to Jaime. “Speaking of… I’m guessing I’m not the only one with some questions tonight. Shall we address the elephant in the room?

For a few seconds, Jaime doesn’t breathe. He watches him, rapt and curious and inexplicably nervous.

“I gave Sebastian my permission to tell you anything he already knows about my story. Can I ask you what he conveyed?”

Jaime’s gaze once again dips to the smooth column of Ezra’s throat, unobstructed by metal that Jaime has been told, time and time again, is indestructible. Immovable except with the explicit allowance of a high-clearance Handler. “That you used to be… like me,” he whispers.

Ezra nods. “I was a contracted Companion for many years. I was seventeen when I was taken in—though of course, my file stated otherwise. I was well into my twenties by the time I got out.”

“How?” The question escapes before he can reel it in, but Ezra doesn’t look offended. He seems to have expected it.

“There are specifics that I won’t get into right now, not yet, for the safety of the other parties involved,” he says. “But I killed the last Keeper of my contract.”

The sharp intake of breath next to him tells Jaime that this is new information to Sebastian, too.

For a dizzying moment, Jaime is swept up in a technicolor fantasy: he is towering over the lifeless body of James Torley, droplets of blood collecting at the tip of a knife and splashing into his dress shirt. A shiver runs down his spine. He pinches his thigh to ground himself.

“You ran?” he asks, a bit breathlessly. “They didn’t track you?”

A wry smile pulls at Ezra’s mouth. “They couldn’t.”He turns his head, pulling his ear forward and brushing his hair back to reveal a thin scar where his tracker would have been. Jaime stops breathing.

“I had the right people on my side at the right time,” he explains, turning back to him. “There was someone who could safely extract the tracker without setting off any of the emergency failsafes. I had someone else who was able to remove my collar as well. It was staged as a murder-abduction. Someone kept me sheltered for months, in a house in the country. I laid low. The case eventually ran cold, and I was deemed a casualty. Not so much a missing person, but a financial loss the government had no choice but to write off. And now I am here.”

No one makes a sound for a long time.

“I can’t promise you an answer,” Ezra follows up. “Not about everything. But you can ask me anything you’d like to know.”

There are a hundred questions spinning in Jaime’s head—most of them incoherent, some of them he’s afraid to know the answer to. He unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth and asks, “How long?”

“Since I’ve been out? Nearly a decade.”

“Aren’t you afraid?” Jaime asks. “Of being found?”

“They haven’t found me yet.”

“But they could.” Jaime’s heart is hammering inside his chest. He can’t stop the words from escaping any more than he can control the sudden tremble in his hands.

Ezra softens his expression, letting out a long breath. “Yes,” he concedes. “They could. But, Jaime, I have spent so many years being afraid. I have fought hard for the life I have now. I refuse to let fear control me again.”

Jaime can’t remember what a life looks like without fear. He has been afraid for as long as he can remember.

In his very first memory of true terror, he is six years old. They had just moved to a new house, and the layout was still unfamiliar. There was thunder and lightning, so loud it shook the window in his bedroom. Jaime stumbled into the hallway, fingers plugged into both ears, desperately searching for his parents to make the noise go away. But between the fear and the darkness and the newness of the house, he couldn’t find their room. He couldn’t find them. In his mind, in that moment, he was entirely alone in the world. He ended up curled against the wall, wailing into the knees of his pajama pants, until they found him.

That was the night he learned what it felt like to truly fear the loss of his parents, even if it only lasted a few minutes. Four years later, when that fear came to fruition, he thought the worst had happened. Nothing else could ever hurt him that bad again.

Then life spent the following years proving to him that there are always new things to be afraid of, new things to hurt him, new lows to reach: cruel foster parent, hungry nights in a locked room, a disciplinary board staring him down from the wrong end of a table, a man in a shelter standing over his bed, a stranger in a bar and a cloth pressed over his face, dark gray coveralls and blinding white lights, hands on his body, cuffs around his wrists, pain and pain and pain and—

And what Ezra is telling him now scares him, too. Existing so long in the system without the knowledge of a way out is a hell of its own, but this is a labyrinth he isn’t prepared to face.

“Maybe…” Sebastian speaks up, eyeing Jaime cautiously. “Maybe we should table this conversation for now.”

“It’s a lot to take in at once,” Ezra agrees, keeping Jaime’s gaze. “I don’t want to overwhelm you. Let’s put a pin in it for now? You can always ask me questions later, if you want.”

Grateful for the out, Jaime takes a few deep breaths and nods. Wordlessly, Sebastian reached forward and nudge’s Jaime’s water glass closer to him; not a command, but a concern. Jaime takes a long drink, focusing on the cool stream down his throat.

“So,” Ezra says after a few long moments of quiet. “Would anyone like dessert?”

****

While Sebastian laces up his shoes by the front door, Ezra pulls Jaime to the side.

“Here,” he says, handing him a small slip of paper. “Sebastian already has my number. Now you have it, too. It’s not just for looks; I want you to use it if you need to. For any reason at all, you can call me and I’ll pick up. Okay?”

“Thank you,” Jaime says.

Ezra nods. For the first time all night, there seems to be a brief moment where Ezra is not entirely in control of his emotions. He blinks at Jaime a few times through an unreadable expression, then takes a deep breath to smooth his face into perfect neutrality once more. Jaime shivers, seeing a flash of his own reflection in his eyes.

“I’m glad you allowed me to meet you tonight,” Ezra says. “I will make no demands of your time in the future, but I hope this won’t be the last time. You are welcome here whenever you’d like. It might be good for you to have a friend right now.” He shrugs, bringing his smile back to the surface. “It might be good for me, too.”

***

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#do no harm: jaime & sebastian #bbu #like bbu adjacent?#whump #whump writing #whumplr

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