#justnat writes

[justnat15]

The 141 as the Horsemen of the Apocalypse Version One

Blame my wifey @writeforfandoms for this. She introduced me to this fandom and encouraged the plot bunnies. I will have two versions of this because I just couldn’t decide 100% who I wanted to cast Price, Ghost, and Gaz as for the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Soap is solid as he is, though. Version two can be found here.

Anyway, read and enjoy!

Whispers around the base called them the apocalypse incarnate. Death, War, Famine, and Pestilence in the flesh. It worked out quite well since there were four of them. 

Captain John Price was cast as War, leading his men into battle after battle, war after war. Wherever he was sent, there was bound to be a war there. He led his team ruthlessly into battle with every mission. Some soldiers swore he had the very fires of hell in his eyes. 

Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley earned the extra nickname of Death, as he was proficient in the art of ending the lives of those in his path. His skull mask did not help matters, either. Many whispered that the man wasn’t even alive, wasn’t human, himself. Some kind of vengeful spirit sent to punish mankind for their crimes. He rarely left survivors of enemy fighters, only if given the direct order to do so. 

Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacTavish was Pestilence, or the conqueror. The first one sent in to clear the area, killing all hostiles. Teamed with Ghost on the field, he’d rain bullets and hellfire on enemy combatants. Back on base and off mission, he tended to plague his fellow soldiers with pranks and extremely corny jokes. Once he had decided you were his next target, whether on or off the battlefield, you had no chance.

Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick was a mystery to most. Referred to as Price’s protégé in the barest of whispers, the young man could be seen shadowing the captain on missions. His physical feats were on par with the rest of the team, nothing special when compared to his companions. But there was something about him that left a person wanting more. More of his presence, more information, more something. The rare few who had seen him interrogate a captive were tight lipped, only able to share any part of what they’d seen under the heaviest of alcohol influence. It was like the sergeant became a different person, playing psychological games with the captive to get them to want to share everything with him. Nobody could figure out how he did it. 

Most of the regular soldiers gave them as wide a berth as possible, which didn’t bother the task force much at all. 

The four men knew enough about the whispers behind their backs, about being the four horsemen of the apocalypse back on earth to bring about the end of the world. 

Price would just scoff and light up another cigar while reading another mission report. He didn’t have time to deal with such things.

Ghost wouldn’t give a reaction. He had long since stopped caring what others thought about him. 

Soap would just laugh and shake his head, babbling on and changing the subject. But he would secretly make note of his next prank victim.

Gaz would cock his head to the side with a small smile. He’d comment about how that really wasn’t possible and why would the universe choose the four of them for such an important task? They were just soldiers, after all.

[justnat15]

The 141 as the Horsemen of the Apocalypse version 2

Here’s the second version! I really like both versions I wrote. But please tell me which you prefer! Version one can be read here.

Whispers around the base called them the apocalypse incarnate. Death, Famine, Pestilence, and War in the flesh. It worked out quite well since there were four of them. 

Captain John Price was whispered to be the one called Death. The leader of the 141, he and his men went into the hairiest battle situations and somehow still came out on top. Nobody tried to keep track of the force’s kill count. Price led the hunt each time a new target was acquired. He rarely left any enemy survivors behind. He trained his men to be as ruthless as him. Wherever Price went, death was sure to follow.

Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley. Most would assume he would be the one called Death, due to his call sign and preference for skull masks, yet he was nicknamed Famine. His very presence on the battlefield starved the air of anything except bloodlust. Off missions, there was something empty about the man. Something was missing. Whenever he was around the other soldiers, it felt like whatever it was was being sucked right out of the air. The soldiers felt a little colder, a little bit less somehow. They didn’t know what they needed to fill themselves, but whatever it was there would never be enough.

Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacTavish was Pestilence, or the conqueror. The first one sent in to clear the area, killing all hostiles. Teamed with Ghost on the field, he’d rain bullets and hellfire on enemy combatants. Back on base and off mission, he tended to plague his fellow soldiers with pranks and extremely corny jokes. Once he had decided you were his next target, whether on or off the battlefield, you had no chance.

Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick was one that tended to confuse everyone. On base, he was one of the most polite and borderline sweet (if soldiers could use that word to describe a member of a special task force). He was Price’s protégé, sure, shadowing the captain whenever possible. He was learning every trick of the trade he could. But on the mission, he was just as vicious as the rest of his comrades. The other soldiers dubbed him War because he became someone, something, else when on the battlefield. Someone unstoppable. Some swore they saw the fires of hell shining in his eyes during combat, like he was Ares, the Greek God of war himself.

Most of the regular soldiers gave them as wide a berth as possible, which didn’t bother the task force much at all. 

The four men knew enough about the whispers behind their backs, about being the four horsemen of the apocalypse back on earth to bring about the end of the world. 

Price would just scoff and light up another cigar while reading another mission report. He didn’t have time to deal with such things.

Ghost wouldn’t give a reaction. He had long since stopped caring what others thought about him. 

Soap would just laugh and shake his head, babbling on and changing the subject. But he would secretly make note of his next prank victim.

Gaz would cock his head to the side with a small smile. He’d comment about how that really wasn’t believable and why would the universe choose the four of them for such an important task? They were just soldiers, after all.

[justnat15]

Christmas Cookies

Okay, this was supposed to just be lighthearted and funny all the way through, but then the waltzing started and it's my absolute dream to dance around my home with the love of my life someday just because we can. This became an indulgence and is a lot longer than originally planned. Oops. So, with that, I present to you this story. Over 1,300 words of pure indulgent Christmas fun.

So much thanks to my foxy wifey @writeforfandoms for encouraging me when I was worried about making our cowboy out of character. I love you!

Warnings: Um, Christmas? Country music mentioned? Dancing? Cookies. Fluff.

                     Christmas Cookies

A heavenly smell infused the air inside the modest sized ranch house. You danced around the kitchen to the Christmas music playing on the radio as you took a cookie sheet out of the oven and placed it on the counter top to cool. Moments later, another sheet of cookies was placed in the oven. Different colors of frosting and sprinkles littered the island in the middle of the room.

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, special agent of Statesman, watched the scene with warm eyes from the entryway. It did his heart so much good to see the woman he adored more than anything be comfortable and at home in his house. With that feeling of warmth and love still radiating from him, he walked forward and grabbed you around the waist, spinning you to face him with a grin.

“Jack! You're home early!” His little darling cried with excitement, your smile making your eyes sparkle with joy. You stood up on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to the man's lips, giggling softly at the feel of his mustache against your soft skin.

“Hello sugar,” Jack murmured, whirling the two of you around the kitchen in a lively two-step. The cowboy's smile grew at the sound of his lover's laughter ringing through the house as he continued to spin you around to the music.

When the song ended and the dancing came to a pause, you were out of breath and rosy-cheeked. “What's got you in such high spirits today, cowboy of mine?” You asked, wriggling out of his grip to check on the cookies still baking in the oven.

Jack grinned salaciously at the sight of you bent over, reaching out to goose you. He chuckled at the yelp you let out, grabbing your hand as you whirled around to smack his shoulder. “I can't just be happy to see you in our home?” He bent down, his lips brushing against yours with each word.

Your mind blanked at the closeness between the two of you. It didn't matter that you had been in a relationship for over two years, Jack still managed to take your breath away and cause your brain to shut down at the drop of a hat.

Jack chuckled again at the bright blush spreading across your cheeks. He leaned down further and closed the distance between the two of you to properly kiss you. When he pulled back, he marveled at the flush that was somehow a deeper color across your cheeks. “Hello, darlin',” he cooed softly.

You blinked and smiled brightly up at your cowboy. “Welcome home, Jack. You're just in time to help me decorate the Christmas cookies.” You laughed as you spun out of his grip and turned back to the cookie sheet sitting on the space next to the stove. “The first batch should be cooled enough to put the icing on!”

The brunet laughed and followed you, enamored with how you shifted gears so quickly from being under his spell to being excited over Christmas cookies of all things. “Sounds like a plan, darlin'. Do you have the sprinkles this time?” He held back a snicker at the pout you sent his way over the reminder of the lack of sprinkles the last time you made cookies to decorate.

“Hush you! Or you won't get any of these! Not that you should, anyway. At least not until the company party, since Champ personally asked me to bring them,” you absentmindedly smacked away the cowboy agent's hand that was reaching for one of the sugar cookies waiting to be decorated. You giggled at the yelp and mock pout your lover sent your way.

“Now, sugar, taste testing is an important part of baking! It's for quality control! After all, you wouldn't want to take any cookies that didn't taste right,” Jack whined, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You leaned back in his embrace and sighed. “Oh alright. But just one!”

“From each batch?” Jack buried his face in your neck, knowing his mustache would tickle the sensitive skin there.

You screamed in laughter and tried to pull away. “Jack Daniels, you stop that!” Alas, his grip was too secure and you couldn't escape. After a few moments of delicious torture, he let you go and spun you around in his arms.

“Dance with me?” He led you in a slow traveling waltz as Frank Sinatra's “The Christmas Waltz” played in the background.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as the two of you danced around the kitchen again. “You know this is my favorite Christmas song.”

Jack hummed in acknowledgment. “I also remember once you said that you always wanted to waltz to it with your partner.” He hummed along to the crooning of Sinatra as he continued to twirl you around the kitchen.

You perked up at his comment. You hadn't talked about that to anyone since... “That was years ago! Before you even asked me out on our first date! Wait, I didn't even tell you that. I was talking to Ginger at the first Christmas party I attended at the agency!” You leaned back to make eye contact. “Jack, did you eavesdrop on me?”

His chuckle vibrated in his chest as he pulled you in close. “I was smitten from the first time I laid eyes on you, didn't you know that, sugar? The brand new tech specialist working alongside Ginger. I gathered information to make sure I could capture your attention and keep it. I succeeded, didn't I?” He bent you in a quick dip before pulling you back up for a spin. He grinned as his shining brown eyes met yours.

You returned his grin with one of your own. “Yes you did, cowboy.” You stood on tiptoes to kiss your lover, happiness shining in your eyes.

The two of you continued to dance in a comfortable silence for the next few songs until the timer went off, reminding you of the cookies still in the oven. Jack sighed and let you go, watching as you bounced on your toes in excitement again at the prospect of decorating Christmas cookies.

“C'mon, cowboy! You won't distract me this time from icing these cookies!” You giggled, pulling the special agent to the kitchen island where you had previously laid out all the tools for your current mission.

Jack just shook his head and followed your lead. At least for a little bit. An hour into decorating the cookies, Jack smirked at you over the cookies and frosting between the two of you and stretched out a hand to you as George Strait’s “Christmas Cookies” played over the speaker you had hooked your phone up to.

“C’mon, sugar. Swing with me,” was all he said before he grabbed you and pulled you to your feet. You laughed and obliged, allowing yourself to be led into a country swing. 

The constant movements of spins, dips, and jumps kept you on your toes, literally and figuratively. You knew all the same moves as Jack, but you never knew too far ahead of time which move he would pull until he was signaling you with the press of his hands. He could move through a tabletop or two, twist you through the pretzel, or lift you up on his hip before leading you behind his back for a hand change. 

Dancing with Jack brought you exhilaration like no other. Sure, you had other great dance partners, but none of them had a thing on Jack. He made following his lead as easy as breathing. It didn’t hurt that his touch made you feel alive in a way no one else could ever hope to. 

As if reading your thoughts, Jack pulled you in close and murmured in your ear, “I love you, sugar.” He spun you out and then back in with a wide smile on his face. “Best dance partner I could ever have.” 

You grinned, breathless, as the Statesman agent led you into one last dip as the song came to a close. “I love you, too, cowboy,” you managed to whisper before Jack pulled you up into a sweet kiss. 

“Now, how about we finish up those cookies?” Jack asked once he let you go. You couldn’t do anything but laugh as you both got back to decorating.

[justnat15]

Supernatural Masterlist

Well, my old one disappeared! Here’s hoping I’ve gathered them all up!

Dean: It’s Gonna Be Okay -  A case doesn't go according to plan and the reader and the brothers are left shaken. Crowley’s Reason - Sequel to It’s Gonna Be Okay He Liked Her Hair Long So She Cut It Short -  “He liked her with long hair so she cut it short.” Dean and the reader get into a fight and the reader storms out to return later with a new look. I Love You - Reader gives Dean some comfort after a rough night with the Mark.

Sam: Anti-Anxiety -  The reader has an anxiety disorder and has an attack. Sam finds out and helps calm the reader down. Late Night Tea - Reader can’t sleep and Sam helps by brewing a cup of tea.

Castiel: Pie On Wednesday - Team Free Will and the reader stop at a restaurant for a bite to eat between cases. Birthday Comic Expo -  It's the reader’s birthday and Castiel wants to make it special. Comfort You - Reader finds her boyfriend cheating on her with one of Dean's old one night stands and Castiel comforts her.

Gabriel: Comfort, Comfort, Now My Darling - Gabriel gives some comfort to a depressed reader.

Garth: A Phone Call From Home -  Takes place during S8E6 Southern Comfort. Sometime after Dean tells Garth off for trying to be Bobby.

No Pairings:

Winchester Baby Girl Masterlist - John Winchester fathers another child. But her mother dies in childbirth and he is left to raise the baby. (Slowly revamping. Incomplete)

Baby Hunters - Gabriel plays a prank and reader is caught up in it.

Off To College -  Reader goes off to college and has to say goodbye to the brothers.

Thunderstorms -  A thunderstorm hits and the reader, terrified of thunder, runs to the Winchesters for comfort.

[justnat15]

Head Rubs

A/N: I’m back already with another fic! This one is for my space husband Din Djarin. Inspired by a character takeover convo I had with @mandoalorian (@maxlordsgf )(I love you Rach!!) the other day. Also, from personal experience I’ve had with putting people (my younger brothers) to sleep with head rubs. I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible, so if there are any pronouns or anything that defy that, please let me know!

Pairing: Din x GN!Reader (Hopefully I succeeded at keeping it gender neutral!)

Warnings: So much fluff!! Pre-established relationship (marriage), Din removes his helmet for his riddur, brief talk of bounty hunting, slight mention of struggles with parenting. (if I missed anything, I would love to know!!)

Din watched as you cradled his foundling close, rubbing your hand between between the two big ears. Sleepy coos echoed through the ship as you slowly paced the floor.

You looked up and smiled at the Mandalorian. “I think he's almost asleep,” you whispered, never stopping your movements.

It had been a particularly rough day with the child. Din had been out since dawn on a hunt, which wasn't abnormal, but the kid was especially needy and wanted more than just you. There had been moments of tears, and not just from the baby. Needless to say, you and the child were both happy when Din returned after a successful day of hunting. As soon as Din had settled in, you had handed over his foundling and trapped yourself in the refresher for a good five minutes to calm down.

It wasn't the first time a day like this happened, but they were blessedly far and few between. And when it came time to sleep, the baby would act as if you were the only one in the universe he had any attachment to.

“I don't know why he acts like this! He could barely stand me all day and now he wants only me?” You moaned, taking the crying baby back from Din.

Din huffed beneath his helmet, smirking. “It's because you always put him to bed and that is one part of his routine he doesn't want to change. He loves you, mesh'la, even if today didn't seem like it.”

You walked over to the baby's bassinet, having put him to sleep. “Good night my little monster. I love you,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. The child smiled in his sleep, snuggling down in his blankets. You closed the bed and turned to Din, a grin on your face.

Din chuckled and pulled you into his arms. “And this is why the womp rat will only go to you at night. Because even though he was a right terror today for you, you still love him and treat him with the kindness others wouldn't think he deserves after a day like today.”

You glanced up at him. “He's still a baby! Of course I'm going to love him and treat him with love! He's still learning and emotions are hard to express even when you can speak.”

Din pressed his helmeted forehead to yours, the coolness of the beskar soothing against your skin. “I know, cyar'ika. But you are a rare gem in the galaxy to see and think that way. It's part of why I love you.”

You grinned, placing your hands on Din's helmet. “I love you, too, Din. Now, how about we leave our foundling to sleep and go rest ourselves? I know today must have been long for you, and to come back and have to cater to the whims of our baby? C'mon, my love.” You pulled back and grabbed his hands, dragging him to your own sleeping quarters after pressing a button on the cradle that would let you know when the baby made so much noise and was awake.

Once inside the room that housed your bed, you sat on the edge of the mattress and motioned for Din. “Come here, my love. Let me help you relax?”

Din groaned softly and stripped his armor off, taking care to put it away properly. As much as he wanted to be in your arms, he had too much respect for his beskar to just let it fall to the floor without care. His helmet was the last thing to go. “Ner riddur,” he spoke softly, his voice natural and unchanged by the modulator in his helmet.

“Come here, my husband. It's been a long day for both of us.” You scooted up the bed, sitting so there was space between your legs for the man in front of you, your arms held out for him.

Din sighed as he crawled into your embrace, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Ner kar'ta. What did I do to deserve such a one as you?”

You giggled softly, running your fingers through dark curls. “I don't know, but I was wondering how I deserve a great man like you! I love you, Din, so much, and I love the home we have here on this ship with our little foundling.”

Din just groaned at the feeling of your hands in his hair as you gently massaged his scalp, much like you had done with the baby. It never failed to relax either of them, you had learned long ago. As you continued rubbing Din's head, he melted into your smaller form.

“Mmm, I love when you do this, ner kar'ta. It feels like the rest of the world just melts away. I wish we could just stay like this forever, just you, me, and our foundling sleeping in the other room.” Din pressed his lips to your neck, reveling in the feel of your skin beneath his mouth.

You hummed softly, kissing the top of Din's head in turn. “Me, too, my love. I'm sure a day will come when we can settle down, just the three of us.”

Din nodded, becoming too tired to verbally reply. You just smiled at your husband and moved so the both of you were lying down on the bed in a more comfortable position. Din adjusted sleepily so his head was over your heart, allowing your heartbeat to finish lulling him to sleep.

Within minutes, you noticed Din's breathing even out, signaling the man had fallen asleep, once again, to you massaging his head. You kissed the top of his head and settled in more to go to sleep yourself. It really had been a long day and you were tired. “Good night, my love. Sweet dreams,” you whispered quietly before falling victim to blissful sleep yourself.

[justnat15]

Masterlist

Well, looks like I need to make one of these since I’m getting back into the swing of writing! I will also link to my old writings (back in my SPN phase). I will try to update regularly! Also, I try to tag all my newer works with (#justnat writes)

Maxwell Lord (WW84): Never Doubt Our Love : F!Reader is distressed by online trolls and Maxwell comforts her after he gets home and sees her crying.

Come Home: F!Reader leaves Maxwell after a forgotten anniversary dinner. He tries to convince her to return and give him another chance.

The Mandalorian: Thunderstorms and Lullabies : Reader comforts a crying Child when a thunderstorm rages around the Razor Crest and Din is on a hunt.

Head Rubs: Reader gives Din a scalp massage after a long day. Pre-established marriage relationship!

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels:

Christmas Cookies: Jack comes home and finds F!Reader baking cookies. Fluff and shenanigans ensue!

Triple Frontier Boys:

Will Miller: “Let Me Take Care of You” : Reader has a bad day and Will steps in to take of them.

Frankie Morales: A Baby’s Proposal: After a long day at work, reader is given an early surprise from her boyfriend’s baby girl.

Requests: Just A Cold : Frankie and f!reader have a sick little one and take her to the doctor. Frankie is a great husband and daddy.

Call of Duty:

The 141 as the four horsemen of the apocalypse ver 1 ver 2

Bfg!Shifter!Ghost and the Pack Baby - You catch Ghost bonding with your baby. Based on writeforfandom’s Born for Greatness series.

SPN Masterlist

Original works (probably mostly poetry 😅):

Do Not Ask Me

[justnat15]

Come Home - Max Lord

A/N: It’s ya girl, here with a Max Lord fic!! This one is the result of watching WW84 and following/befriending my lovely Rach. Not to mention listening to Taylor Swift’s Back to December on repeat while working at night. So be warned, this is pretty angsty (at least for me). But there is a little bit of fluff and happiness at the end.

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x fem!reader 

Warnings: ANGST!! Beware, almost didn’t have a happy ending. Possibly AU? No mention of Dreamstone, or alluding to the events of WW84 to happen. Please tell me if I missed any. 

Dedicated to my beloved Rach @mandoalorian / @maxlordsgf . I love you darling!!

Come Home

The room was dimly lit, all the candles once giving it a romantic glow. Now, however, as you sat there at the table all alone, the lighting was somber. Another late night at the office, apparently. No matter that it was your anniversary, he never could pull himself away from work anymore to spend even one evening with you. The food you had spent all day preparing was now cold. Your hair, once curled and pinned to perfection, was now falling out of place, strands blurring your vision as you looked at the clock once more.

You knew it would do no good to call the office. You'd only get his assistant and she'd promise to give him your message as soon as he was available, which seemed to be never these days. That's if she was still there. Lord knows the man couldn't be counted on to answer his own phone, even if it was his girlfriend calling.

After another fifteen minutes of sitting and holding onto a small glimmer of hope, you sighed and stood, wandering around the dining area to put out the candles. No need to potentially burn the place down, even if he did deserve it. You debated on cleaning up the dinner but decided against it, focusing instead on showering and changing.

You packed a bag, taking only enough to get you through the next couple of days. You could come back and get the rest of your stuff later, preferably when you knew he wouldn't be home. But when was he home these days? You couldn't remember the last time you had fallen asleep and woken up in his embrace.

Before walking out the door, you wrote a note and left it on the table next to the remains of your dinner.

Maxwell,

When you read this, I will be gone. I'll be back for the rest of my things sometime later this week.

I know you have a lot to do at the office and trying to run your business, but I can't do this anymore.

Don't try to contact me. Goodbye, Maxwell. I wish you the best.

You wiped away the tears now freely streaming down your face and walked out, locking the door behind you. You didn't want to leave, but you knew staying would only bring more forgotten dinners and pain. “Goodbye, Maxwell Lord,” you whispered softly as you waved down a taxi to go to a nearby hotel.

Maxwell Lord, founder of Black Gold Cooperative, let himself into his apartment nearly two hours later. He tried to be quiet, knowing his lover must be asleep by now. It had been a long day at the office and all he wanted was to crawl into bed next to the love of his life and sleep for a few hours before he had to get up and go back to work. He knew that he hadn't been home much lately, but he assumed you understood. He assumed you knew that he was doing this so the both of you could have a better life, a better future for you and Alistair, his beloved son from his failed marriage.

Max was not expecting to see a cold dinner laid out on the dining table, remnants of candles scattered around the room. “Darling? Are you still awake?” he called out, placing his briefcase by the door. “Sweetheart?” He paused in his movements at the sight of the note you left on the table. He grabbed onto a chair as he read the brief note. “No,” he whispered, eyes watering. “NO!” The cry, raw with pain, ripped from his throat as he turned and rushed out to the street in a vain attempt to try and find you. He cried your name, hands tearing at his blond hair that you teased him about relentlessly in the beginning.

A soft rain began to fall, as if Mother Nature was mourning with him at the loss of one of the few good things in his life.

***********************************************

You parked the truck your brother had lent you, grateful you wouldn't need to load a taxi with the boxes you would no doubt have after packing everything you left behind at Max's apartment. It had only been three days since you left, but you knew if you didn't get your things now, you never would.

The apartment was dark as you let yourself in for what would be the last time (besides the trips it would take to move everything to the truck). It was no surprise. You had planned to be there and gone while Max was at the office.

“Darling?” A hoarse whisper called from the living room. “Is that you?” A haggard figure moved to the entryway. Maxwell Lord, oil tycoon and successful businessman, stood in front of you looking as if he hadn't slept in days. “Oh, darling, it is you! I'm so sorry baby! Please come home. Please don't leave. I can't live without you.” He moved as if to embrace you but stopped at your flinch. “Darling?” Tears fell from his brown eyes, blond-dyed strands falling into his face. You wanted nothing more to go to him and hold him, but you had to be strong.

“I thought you would be at work,” you murmured, looking at the floor. “I just came by to get the rest of my things.” You started to move towards the bedroom where all of your clothes were but Maxwell reached out to stop you.

“Please,” was the quiet plea. He whispered your name. “Please, don't go. You and Alistair are the only good things in my life and I can't go on without the both of you by my side. I'm so sorry I haven't been around, but I will try harder. Just don't go, baby, please. Come home.”

You looked at him, noting the sincerity in his voice and the heartbreak in his eyes. “I don't know if I can, Max. It hurts so much. You put your work in front of me, in front of Alistair. The last two weekends he was here, he and I spent the whole time together, hoping you would come home and spend the time with us, but you never did. Then you didn't come home for our anniversary, despite having made the plans in advance. It hurt,” your voice broke, sobs escaping as you wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to hold yourself together. “What did I do wrong?”

Maxwell's heart broke even more at the sight of you crying in front of him. You were always so strong and happy, his strength. “Oh sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong. Can I hold you?” He stepped forward, his arms partially raised to embrace you.

A sniffle and a slight nod was his answer. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He buried his face in your hair, breathing in the scent that was you, that was home. “I'm so sorry, love. You don't deserve to be made to feel like this. I wish I could undo everything I did to make you feel like you need to leave. If you give me the chance, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I swear. You are too beautiful to cry like this.” His own tears started to fall again, dampening your shirt where he rested his head. “I'm so sorry.”

The two of you stood there, wrapped up in each other, for minutes or an hour, you didn't know. Time seemed to stop as you both cried and held tightly to each other.

After a time, you pulled back slightly to look up at him, eyes rimmed red from crying. “I don't want to go, Max. I never wanted to leave. You promise if I come back, I won't regret it?”

He cradled your face in his hands, rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “I promise, my love. I will try my best to be home earlier from work or at least calling to let you know I can't make it home until late. I will be there for you and Alistair. I just want to give us all a better life. It's all for the two of you.”

You leaned into his touch, comforted by the warmth you had missed the past while. “We just want you. I don't need anything but you and your son when he's here. All he wants is you. Alistair loves you just the way you are, you know? He can't stop talking about how much he loves and misses you when you aren't here.” You brought up one hand to cover Max's on your cheek. “I miss you when you aren't here.”

Max couldn't speak, choked up by so much emotion. All he could do was kiss you on the forehead, praying that the kiss would convey all he was feeling, the apologies, the sorrow, the love. Everything he felt for you. “So will you stay? Will you come back home?”

You nod into his chest. “Yes, I'll come home.”

[justnat15]

A Baby’s Proposal

Hey y’all! Just here with a Triple Frontier fic with our favorite pilot, Frankie Morales. This is my first fic after a while and my first one for this fandom. Please let me know if there are mistakes!

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!reader

Warnings: None? Pretty much just fluff.

Summary: A movie night after a long day at work goes a little differently than planned thanks to Frankie’s baby girl.

It had been a long day at work. You'd been busy and on your feet almost the whole time. And so now you wanted nothing more than to go home and relax, maybe take a hot bath to sooth your aching back. But then, as you pulled into your driveway, you remembered you had plans with your boyfriend Frankie and his friends. It was Friday, which meant it was movie night and this week was your turn to host. Two other vehicles, belonging to the Miller brothers, were already parked in front of your house. They were probably inside playing with Lucia, your boyfriend's baby girl.

Speak of the devil. Frankie came around the front of the house just as you were parked and exiting your car.

“Hey love, welcome home.” He greeted you with a hug and a kiss. You moaned when his warm hands landed on your lower back, right where the pain was. Frankie chuckled and pulled you closer, gently rubbing your back. “Long day, cariño?”

You merely groaned in response, leaning further into his comforting touch. His thumbs pressed just right and you melted, relying on Frankie to support you. He chuckled and adjusted his grip on you so he could pick you up and carry you into the house.

“Hey! Luci, look who's home?” Benny crowed when Frankie and you entered the home. The young blond man held up Lucia to see you. The little brown-haired girl squealed and bounced in her Uncle Benny's arms.

Frankie laughed and set you down so you could take the baby girl in your arms. You smiled and held Lucia close. “Hey baby girl! Did you miss me as much as I missed you today?” You buried your nose in her curls that were so much like her daddy's, taking in that soft clean scent that only babies have. “My little Luci-Goose,” you pressed loud kisses to her little hands, drawing excited giggles from the infant.

“Mama, mama, mama,” Lucia squealed happily, patting your cheeks excitedly.

You gasped, turning to Frankie. “Frankie, she just, just,” you stuttered, tears filling your eyes.

Frankie nodded, his eyes also watering as he stepped close to hold you and his daughter. “That's right, princesa, that's your mama. That's Mama, my smart little girl.”

“Holy shit! Will, get in here! Luci just spoke!” Benny yelled out the door to the backyard where the elder Miller brother was manning the grill.

Will rushed in. “She did it? I missed it?”

You looked at the brothers, cradling the little girl close to your heart. “Were you planning this? Because that sounds like you were planning something.”

Will scratched the back of his head and Benny blushed, both brothers looking sheepish. “We may have been teaching her to call you mama. But she is a little ahead of schedule,” Benny chuckled. “She's too smart.”

You were still confused. “Ahead of schedule? Frankie, do you know what's going on?”

Frankie took off his hat and ran a hand through his curls that matched Lucia's so perfectly. “About that, it was supposed to be a surprise for our anniversary next month, but the little princesa is just too smart and quick.” He stepped back and reached into his pocket, softly saying your name. “Ever since you came into my life, into Lucia's life, things have been perfect. I know that there are times when we struggle and fight, but I forget about them every time I see you hold my baby girl. You didn't have to love her as much as you do, but I think you love her more than me some days.” That drew a chuckle from everyone. Tears were starting to fall down your cheeks as you watched your loving boyfriend kneel down in front of you. “Like I said, I wanted to wait. Will and Benny were helping me teach Lucia to call you Mama because that's who you are. You're her Mama, and we want you to stay forever. Mi amor, will you marry me and adopt Lucia?”

You sobbed, unable to speak due to how overwhelmed you were with emotions. Adjusting Luci in your arms, you nodded and held out your hand to your now fiancé. “Yes, yes, yes!” You were finally able to speak. “Yes I will marry you and adopt Lucia as my own. There is nothing that could make me happier.”

Benny cheered and reached to take a giggling Lucia from you so Frankie could more easily embrace you after putting the engagement ring on your finger. You flung yourself into his arms, passionately kissing him.

“I love you, Francisco Morales. I love you and your precious daughter more than anything in the world,” you murmured against his lips.

“Don't look, Goose. I think Mama and Daddy are going to make you a sibling,” Benny groaned as he covered Lucia's eyes. Will laughed loudly at his younger brother's antics and Lucia's attempts to push away his hands.

“Mama!” The little girl cried, reaching for you.

“Come here darling. I'll save you from your mean Uncle Benny.” You took your curly-haired baby and blew raspberries on her cheeks. “Mama's got you, baby girl.”

Benny slapped a hand over his chest in mock hurt. “If anyone's the mean uncle, it's Will, not me! Luci-Goose, back me up here!”

“Mama,” was the reply as Lucia nuzzled closer to you, not paying attention to anyone else as long as she was in your arms.

Frankie wrapped an arm around you, pressing a kiss to his daughter's head. “That's right, baby. But now we work on saying Dada, okay?” He kissed your cheek, holding you tight to his side.

Benny groaned again. “Okay, enough of this touchy mushy stuff. Are we watching a movie tonight or not?”

You laughed at the man's antics and nodded. “Yes, Benny, we'll watch a movie tonight.”

Tags: @lucrezia-thoughts