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hes-writer · 4 years

Text

Routine

Summary: y/n catches harry live streaming a show

Warning: smut

Word Count: 2293 words

___

University was no joke. It’s expensive for sure. Harry had a full-time job at the beginning of the semester working at a cafe near his flat. He soon found out that that wasn’t the best idea. Maybe because he didn’t manage his time right or it was simply too exhausting for him to work late hours when he had to take mandatory morning classes. His next solution was more--risky per se.

Harry had always been confident with his body. He ate well; loading up on fruit smoothies and veggie shakes every morning to accompany him on his early morning workouts. The sweat beading in between his toned pecs made him revel in the accomplishments of self-care, washed away as he palmed his face underneath the stream of the locker room shower. His wet curls stuck to his small ears as he pulled his sweater over his body, exiting the gym with a bag slung over his shoulder, plucking a peace sign to the person at the front desk as he left the building.

It started off as a blog; posting pictures of his body that he worked hard on. The narcissist in him craved the compliments of strangers drooling over his muscles and shapely body. Sometimes the messages he received were explicit, but he also couldn’t help the arousal flowing through his veins as blood pumped towards his cock. Thus, the next part of his routine was to go home to his flat and strip his body off of his clothes. His webcam would be switched on with a push of a button, his long fingers floating over the keyboard as he signed in to his account.

Speaking of, the meat between his thighs plumped up with the lingering thought of user ‘sweetgirl112’ messages last night. How much she wanted to tuck his thick length in her mouth, how much she craved to feel his large hands adorning her body. God, she had such a way with words and here Harry was with an erection pudging up in his lycra leggings. An outline of his mushroom head visible through the tight material. He played with his bottom lip as he waited for the traffic light to turn green. One hand tapped against the steering wheel in a rhythmic pattern, his mind drifting away to how it would feel like to have those pleasures within his reach.

But he didn’t.

He rushed off from his seat, quickly locking his car and keying the front door to his flat. Harry was hornier than usual today, thanks to sweetgirl’s lovely messages from last night. Harry rolled his eyes at the effect the stranger had on him. He dropped the chain dangling from his fingers on the bowl beside his door, sighing with excitement as he toed off his runners.

On the couch, Y/N snoozed with her mouth agape, hair messily splayed across the pillow he provided her. He almost forgot she had slept over last night during their movie night. She insisted to sleep on the sofa despite Harry offering his bed to share between the both of them. In the end, both of them slept on the uncomfortable cushion cuddled up into one another. The distance between them was non-existent but Harry found it endearing the way Y/N cuddled up into his body in order not to fall off the edge, snuggling into his chest with a quiet snore after jolting when one of her legs tumbled of the border.

Nonetheless, that meant that Harry had to tone his volume down a bit, keeping a keen ear to make sure his noises don’t wake her up or arise any alarm from his friend. He crouched down beside her sleeping face, waving a hand over her eyes to make sure she was still in a deep sleep.

“Hope yer’ having sweet dreams,” His thick accent made the words stick to his tongue, lazily drooping like honey. Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead, ignoring the way his heart thumped as she smiled slightly in her sleep, humming with satisfaction and cuddling closer to the pillow clutched between her arms.

Adorable, Harry thought.

Soft footsteps tiptoed over his bedroom, shutting the door gently. He stretched his arms to remove the black sweater over his head, ruffling his curls in the process. His nose hooked at the opening, muffling his breath for a bit that had him tumbling down on the end of his bed with a slight bounce. Harry is clumsy.

He managed to remove the rest of his clothes without further trouble, leaving him in his boxers briefs and socks which he would take off when he got situated in his office chair situated in front of his computer. His set up was on the corner of his room, facing the door. It was a bit odd at first but Harry learned to make it work.

Harry pushed two pumps of coconut-scented lotion into his large palm, lathering his upper body with a subtle sheen, moisturizing his biceps to appear shiny. The excess cream was rubbed along the nape of his neck, massaging the tense muscles along the way. A swift glance at the time at the bottom corner informed him that he had five minutes left until his scheduled show would begin. In preparation, Harry gathered the items he might need during his session. A bottle of clear, water-based lube, a bullet vibrator that recently joined his collection of toys and a silicone cock ring that looked to be a struggle to fit around his plump dick. He set the items aside on the table in front of where he would be sitting.

Harry chewed on his bottom lip, hands grasping the width of his hip as he opted to check on Y/N again. She was a heavy sleeper and the show will probably take around thirty minutes to do, minus the foreplay and all of that. It was still pretty early in the morning too; around ten-thirty, surely she’d stay put till then. He peeked his head through a small gap in his door, craning his neck to catch Y/N shifting just in time to rest on her other side.

Pretty soon, the webcam displayed a green dot at the corner and his screen was loaded to a black screen. The chat indicated that there were currently twenty people watching him. The total viewer count increased with each passing second that had Harry grinning to himself. Once the camera was adjusted to where it cut off around his neck, he sat back in his spinny chair, splaying his wide palms on his muscly thighs.

20 seconds left.

Harry could feel his cock grow in his boxers, the anticipation of his fans commenting on dirty things that they would like to do to him left his imagination endless. A blurt of precum stained the inside of the fabric, dotting the area a darker colour. He sighed deeply, wide eyes watching as the countdown changed.

5...4...3...2...1

In a blink of an eye, Harry’s toned body was showcased on the screen, allowing him to view what his viewers had the pleasure of viewing. The ‘LIVE’ sign blinked repeatedly.

“Hello,” Harry drawled out purposefully using a deeper tone to set the mood. “How are you today?” His fingers stayed hung over the armchair, griping it slightly when comments started rolling in.

“How’s my baby? Are you needy for me?” He found that the best way to ensure as much of connection between his viewers was to speak as though it was a one-on-one conversation. “Because I am,” A hand crawled towards his crotch where his half-massed dick rested on his upper thigh, the head prominent against the tight briefs.

Making sure to keep his face out of view, Harry leaned forward to read the remarks.

User12314: i love your tattoos

User48529: what i’d do to have my hands on you

He chuckled to himself, rubbing up and down to tease himself and them even more. Various 'pings' littered the room with Harry thanking each of them as much as possible.

“I’d love to have my hands on you too,” He gave his cock a gentle squeeze, sucking a breath through his gritted teeth at the sensation. “Wanna feel your body on my skin,” Harry released a throaty groan as he shifted to pinch at his nipples, “Would ya’ let me touch your breasts? I bet they’re soft and perfect for my hands,” His thumb rubbed circles on his top two nipples, shivering slightly.

One palm cupped his balls, thumbing at the middle as the other continued the ministrations on his chest. This went on for a couple more seconds until he pulled his hands away to rest on the ferns tattooed on his hips, rubbing the skin there sensually while he spoke, “Y’wanna see my cock? It’s so hard for you,” The head twitched twice, forcing an involuntary moan to leak from his plump lips.

User09321: yes please

He sighed at the message, his stomach burning with the need to just wrap his fingers around his dick and jerk it till he cums. But he couldn’t do that—at least not yet.

___

Y/N woke up from her slumber, dizzy and discombobulated about where she was only to realize that the ache in her lower back was caused by Harry’s uncomfortable couch. Her phone buzzed beside her; an alarm to wake up to watch a show. Not just any show—a filthy, dirty cam boy who hadn’t left Y/N’s mind ever since she discovered him for the first time a few days ago. She was drunk on wine and barely remembered what the live stream had contained. He was hot, that much she knew.

He wore a dark red sweater that covered his body which Y/N found quite adorable. Yet at the same time, his fist peeked out from his bunched sweater paws to desperately tug at his cock while endless whispers and groans flowed from his mouth through the speakers. His covered body arching against his seat, the walls behind him a plain white. Apparently, he was feeling like a sub that day and asked permission to touch himself like a good boy, pleading to cum. His audience couldn’t resist the whine in his deep voice, shooting streams of cum on his sweater, staining the fabric and probably ruining it forever.

Just before the live stream ended, he reminded everyone when his next show was--today-- and in her drunk daze, Y/N must have set up a reminder on her phone, completely forgetting that she was to hang out with Harry the day before. She rubbed the ball of her palm against her eyes, willing away the sleep on her lids. Sitting up on the cushion, she looked around Harry’s apartment to find the curly-headed boy.

“Harry?” She called out, checking his kitchen to find it empty. She went to his bathroom to freshen up, picking up her toothbrush that Harry had sweetly brought her after Y/N stayed at his place more times than both of them can count. After spitting out the foam pooling in her cheeks, Y/N dabbed the corners of her mouth with a soft, fluffy towel.

As she exited the bathroom, Y/N opened up the web browser in incognito mode, refreshing the link from a few days ago. The page loaded slowly, enabling Y/N to continue searching for Harry. She absent-mindedly walked to Harry’s closed bedroom door—the last place she had yet to look. Her phone produced a muffled sound when it finally loaded. She rapidly typed out a comment to send.

“Can’t take it anymore,” The man said, “I‘ve gotta touch myself but I’m wishing it’s you wrapping your hands around m’cock,”

Y/N could feel her thighs tighten, standing in front of Harry’s bedroom.

Sweetgirl112: touch yourself for me daddy. i wanna hear you say how good it feels

Harry growled upon seeing the message and its user, pulling the fabric down and letting his dick hit his skin with a faint slapping sound on his flushed stomach. Shaky fingers teased his length, tracing of the prominent veins that pumped his cock with blood. “Mm, it feels so good, love,” His thumb spread the liquid seeping at the tip, making sure to lube the head of his dick for a smooth stroke.

With distracted thoughts, Y/N pushed the bar handle down, a gentle bump knocking the door open.

She couldn’t believe her eyes when the loading screen on her phone mirrored the sight in front of her; Harry’s head thrown back, resting against the head of the office chair. Her phone cut off at the veins stretched over the expanse of his neck. His heaving chest glistening with sweat and the faint smell of coconut lingered in the air. His fist pumped his long cock up and down, squeezing at the tip to produce a dollop of wispy pre-cum. Closed eyes blocked his vision from Y/N standing frozen on the door, gazing back and forth towards the device on her sweaty palm to the even hotter view right in front of her.

A resonant sound of ‘pings’ pulled Harry out of his pleasure, lifting his head with the aim to thank whoever tipped him but was taken aback by the sight of his friend at his doorway.

“Oh shit,” He mumbled, impulsively clutching his full balls cradled between his fingers. Harry’s green irises were hooded, observing Y/N’s face with such intensity that it made her want to cower back. His two-front teeth grazed his bottom lip before parting his sweet mouth in a silent gasp at a particularly good stroke. “Wanna join me, baby?”

——

Let me know what you thought!

——

Permanent Taglist: @splendidsunsetx @swagmoneymaya @luviewoo @textingharry @arypesanchez @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @sunguines

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry smut

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mythicamagic · 3 years

Note

19 for spots to kiss?

19: a kiss on the side of the neck.

This is a continuation of prompt 29 which you can find here: link

Rated too hawt for tumblr bc smut so again, it’s under the read more line.

Kagome eyed him with confusion. Since when had the mighty Lord Sesshoumaru deigned to proposition her with anything? She'd had scattered conversations with him since returning from her era but they weren't exactly 'friends.'

Still, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't intrigued.

"I'm listening."

His lips twitched. "Clearly you are dissatisfied with your first sexual experience. I, therefore, extend the offer to bed you."

Kagome choked on her own spit. "E-excuse me?!"

"You are excused."

"No, I mean- why would you ever offer me that?"

He looked rather magnanimous, sipping his saké with relaxed features. "No reason. I desire company tonight. If you are not averse to it, then accept."

He said it so simply. As if he extended such offers every day. Maybe he did. He had the looks and status to do so.

Sesshoumaru's mouth turned down. "This one does not offer such things easily."

Kagome jolted, wondering if he was a mind reader. "O-of course not," she took a moment to steady herself, considering. "But don't you hate humans? I mean, I know you don't hate all of us, since you care about Rin and Kohaku. This is another thing entirely though."

Sesshoumaru inspected perfect nails boredly. "By no means will I ever revere humans as a whole. However, 'hate' is a strong word. Putting that aside, my business is not with the human race tonight, it is with you," his attention slid back to her. "And past interaction between us hints to me that we would be...compatible in the bedroom."

Kagome felt faint. Like those swooning women in period piece movies. Except she wasn't swooning from any crush, more like her corset was too tight.

"Oh really?" she said thinly. "What tipped you off? The arrow I sent to your face?"

"Partly."

"HUH?"

His brow rose as he gave an indulgent chuckle, "power calls to power. You were a brat- but so was this one, to an extent. I desire strength, beauty and will. Are these not qualities you possess?"

Heat bloomed upon her cheeks and Kagome reeled. She couldn't believe she was seriously considering it. Inuyasha would be hurt if he found out. Kagome frowned and curled her hands resting upon her knees into fists. 'It's not as though he has any say in this.'

There was one thing still bothering her though. "If I agree to this, would it happen just once?"

Golden eyes visibly darkened as a foreign expression tightened his jaw, muscles becoming tense. Kagome almost thought she'd angered him before a velvety tone revealed his true emotion; "this agreement may happen as many times as we wish. Over a period of time. Weeks, months if need be."

He was hungry. She realised. Into it. Into her? "S-slow down! We don't even know if we'll enjoy it enough to do it again yet!" she squeaked. "Besides...a secret fling, no strings attached…" Kagome had never thought she'd be the type. "Using you for pleasure, is that really fair to you?" she murmured.

Sesshoumaru let out a noise of frustration, and she found her vision swallowed by silver as her back hit plush furs, sinking into their cloud-like softness as he bent close. His body had never been so near. She could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

"Must you be so vexing?" dark tones purred, a nose grazing hers. "This arrangement is mutually beneficial. We both take. Moreover-" claws skimmed Kagome's waist- her damp sweater clinging to her frame. She shivered violently, heart stuttering. "I am a demon. There is no danger of wounding me emotionally- for I am beyond your reach. So be selfish. Greedy. Be every ugly thing you have repressed, miko- for it can exist here without repercussions. That is what it means to indulge baser urges."

Inexplicably, tears pricked Kagome's eyes again. It was the strangest thing anyone had ever said to her. But wonderfully attractive. She wanted it. She wanted to massage her wounded ego with wicked lips and all the licentious attention he could offer.

Carefully, as though raising a tentative hand to a wild animal, Kagome lifted her palm. Touching his striped cheek and feeling its warm smoothness, the contours of his handsome face- she exhaled in a rush, acknowledging the true weight of the action. "So it's...it's just casual?"

Pale, long lashes slid half shut. Sesshoumaru leaned a little closer but ultimately waited for her to make the first move. "Just casual."

Kagome nodded slowly and brought another hand to his shoulder, feeling the muscle there, before hesitantly pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

She felt him swallow against her lips. Those claws at her waist bit in through the thick material. Lifting her head- Kagome accepted his heated kiss, falling deeper into the mass of endless furs.

They were not gentle nor sweet that first time. Rather, there had been an endless blur of fangs scraping, sinking into flesh- nails dragging and lips colliding in desperate fervour.

Kagome's legs locked around his waist, back arched and chest bared when she surfaced a moment from their lust ridden haze to note the bizarreness of watching Sesshoumaru lick and suckle at her nipple. She tangled shaking hands in sublime hair and rocked her hips needily against his.

"Do it now- don't mess around," she grit out, soaked from a few ministrations of his fingers. Kagome never thought the day would come when she'd dismiss foreplay. But the demon tortuously undid her, cruelly denying her by coaxing desire higher and higher- her thighs were hitched up over broad shoulders as a sinuous tongue lapped and roved and played inside her.

Kagome choked and sobbed her rapture, trembling beneath him as she came against his mouth.

Blue eyes flashed then and the miko yanked her legs away, squirming and righting herself. Sesshoumaru blinked- before he was shoved back. Kagome stood with him, placing a hand on his chest.

"You said I could be selfish," she grit out, red-faced. "Why didn't you just take me as I asked?"

His lips- covered in a faint sheen of her juices- curved up at the edges. He licked them slowly, slit pupils dilated. "This one also said our symbiotic relationship would benefit me as well. I am also allowed to be selfish."

Growling, Kagome grabbed his shoulders for leverage, dragging him down to her mouth and kissing him hard. She bit his bottom lip and sucked, tasting herself lewdly. Sesshoumaru shuddered and panted, cock straining against her.

The miko pushed herself up on her tiptoes and wrapped both legs around his waist, forcing him to stagger back just as the carriage lurched mid-air from a harsh gust of wind. This resulted in them careening back- Sesshoumaru landing against the shutter that burst open, letting cool night air swamp their rutting bodies. Hands scrambled and pushed clothing aside- the demon sinking inside her with some difficulty despite how slick she'd been rendered.

Twin groans were stifled in each other's necks. Kagome had never once been so overcome with lust that she disregarded everything- didn't pause to shut away the chilly draft, didn't wait to ask permission to begin- her hips greedily moved of their own accord. She sank herself down on him and let out a keening noise, mouth falling open.

"C-call my name," she blushed, gritting her teeth. "Please say my name."

His hands locked beneath her thighs to keep her in place, back against the partially open shutter. Sesshoumaru hissed and snarled, his own hips undulating with hers.

Cruel lips pressed against the hollow of her throat. "Kagome," he breathed and kept on repeating it like a mantra.

Something wounded and fragile unfurled within her heart.

It wasn't like how it had been with her ex. In fact, Kagome wagered the powerful thrusts and erotic graze of sharp teeth had ruined human men for her forever. Only demons would likely satisfy her now unless she wanted a life of paltry blunt canines and smooth nails with no dark aura to latch onto. His youki practically drowned her, seeping down her throat and causing her to choke and push out holy powers.

Hands scarred with marks from archery slid over his chest, leaving trails of steam. Sesshoumaru groaned- gaze flashing red, and their harsh, frantic movements combined with lusty cries reached a crescendo. He pushed her down to the floor and slammed inside her to the hilt. Kagome threw her head back, screaming.

The rest was mildly difficult to remember. She was fairly certain, however, that golden eyes had been surprisingly gentle when he'd caught her glazed blue gaze once more. It was only later, when he dropped her off at the edge of Inuyasha Forest, that Kagome pointed out his missing earring.

Sesshoumaru had hummed, removing his remaining pale one and handing it over to her.

Kagome understood what it meant. An agreement, a promise that this was theirs; and theirs alone.

#sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #prompts #At this point I'm just having Sess worship Kagome bc clearly someone needs to. Friggin sequel.

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nokomiss · 4 years

Note

Could i request some jason/tim with B for that prompt thing please 🙏🙏🙏

Tim didn’t think of himself as someone who ran from danger, but he also didn’t want to die, so exceptions were made. The easy bust that Jason had called him in for -- just a dozen henchmen, no big players, just need someone to watch my six -- had quickly gone pear-shaped, and four explosions later, they were running away as fast as they could.

Tim followed Jason’s lead for once, trusting him to have scoped out the area and to have a place to lie low in this particular worst-case scenario. This trust was immediately proven to be misplaced.

Jason led them into an alley, the large crew of supposed henchmen -- clearly mercenaries, and well-trained ones -- hot on their heels.

“Through here,” Jason hissed, and pushed open a metal door. Tim scurried after him, running down a linoleum-tiled hallway and skidding around a corner. The hall was lined with closed doors, and Tim didn’t see a likely exit.

A bullet dinged off a light sconce near Tim’s head, and he let out an involuntary yelp. Jason grabbed his wrist, pulling him along, shoving through a door seemingly at random.

It led into an outdoor area, clearly intended at one point to be an open air dining area. The walls were crumbling and the pavement cracked, and Jason spotted the crevice before Tim did. It was one of those curious leftovers from the rebuilding process after the quake, where one building had survived and the neighboring one hadn’t, and some of the more stable rubble had been left behind when the destroyed building had been bulldozed.

The result was a small window, seemingly too small for someone as bulky as Red Hood to fit through, set into a low brick wall that in reality belonged to no building. They crawled through the window, and the space behind was narrow and claustrophobic, but big enough to fit them both standing, so long as they didn’t mind being in each other’s personal space.

This left Jason was crowded right up against Tim. He was breathing as hard as Tim himself was; chest rising and falling, nearly brushing against the rise and fall of Tim’s own.

Tim was grateful for how little of the streetlamp’s light filtered into this area; Jason wouldn’t be able to see how flushed his cheeks were. He could feel the heat in two hot pinpricks on his cheeks, and told himself it was from the chase.

“What a clusterfuck,” Jason muttered. Tim stared resolutely at his chest, because if he angled his head up to look Jason in the eye, it would make this feel even more intimate than it already was.

“You said it was going to be, and I quote, easy peasy lemon squeezy,” Tim whispered, and offered no further commentary on exactly how wrong Jason had been.

Instead of offering a rebuke in kind, Jason sighed. “When is anything ever easy?”

Tim knew that tone.Tim invented that tone. “Hey.” He pushed against Jason’s shoulder, just enough to get his attention. “You’re not allowed to mope, that’s my schick.”

He looked up at him, and yeah, this position was exactly as intimate as he thought it would be. Head tilted, because Jason was stupid tall, and he felt strangely exposed with his throat bared like that. And Jason himself--

Sweat was making the curl in his hair more pronounced, and he was flushed. The exertion from the fight and the running, Tim told himself, though a small part of him played out a fantasy that Jason was flushed because of his proximity to Tim. That Jason’s breath would stutter if Tim just reached out and grazed his knuckles against Jason’s belly, against those rock-hard muscles down to his rock-hard---

Tim abruptly pulled back as much as he could, head hitting against the rough brick wall. They were still too close-- much too close, given how interested his dick had been in that fantasy.

Tim was so incredibly thankful that he was in costume, that his eyes were shielded from view with the mask and lenses.

There was a small flurry of movement from outside their hiding spot, and Jason instinctively pushed forward, pressing their bodies together-- protecting Tim, shielding him from view in the unlikely scenario that they were discovered.

Heavy footsteps, a few yelled threats, and a short volley of gunfire, apparently aimed at nothing but shadows. Tim knew they could take the mercenaries, that Jason had a gun on his hip with enough bullets to eliminate the threat in seconds, but instead Jason was pushed up against him, breathing heavily against his ear. He smelled like gunpowder and sweat, and the faint acrid tang of smoke, and his breath against Tim’s ear was almost too much to handle.

Tim shivered, and hated himself for it, because he knew that Jason could feel it. Because he could feel the way Jason’s arms were tense around him, braced against the wall, and could feel the way Jason’s hips stuttered lightly against him as Jason shifted his weight. Could feel--

Tim’s eyes widened, probably enough that Jason could tell even with the mask. Because Tim wasn’t the only one whose dick was interested in the current situation.

Tim looked up at Jason’s face. He was being uncharacteristically quiet, though the mercenaries just a few scant yards away could feasibly explain that.

Tim opened his mouth, about to ask… something, he didn’t even know, but just wanting to break this sudden, terrible tension between them. Jason was staring at him, Tim was staring back, opaque lenses to opaque lenses, and Tim desperately needed to see Jason’s eyes, to see whether his pupils were blown or if he was looking at Tim with scorn.

Jason reached over and put a single finger over Tim’s mouth, stopping him from asking any of the thousand questions he had in mind. Then he trailed the finger down, gloves leaving a sharp smoky taste on his lip. As Jason traced a single, solitary line down Tim’s throat, Tim thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

It was so similar to the fantasy he’d indulged in earlier, and Jason looked so intent and soft, like he was memorizing what Tim looked like, like he’d thought about this before…

Tim didn’t give himself time to think, he just surged up on his tiptoes and their mouths collided.

Calling it a kiss would be a kindness. For a single horrifying second, Jason remained stock-still, and Tim thought that he’d made a terrible miscalculation. Then Jason responded. There was no finesse, no gentleness, only pure hunger.

Tim forgot about the mercenaries, forgot about everything outside of the heat of Jason’s mouth, the press of his body against his, the way Jason’s thigh slid between his legs and pressed just right against him.The ragged sound of Jason’s breath between kisses, and the way the silence stretched between them, allowing this to happen unimpeded. About the way Jason’s body felt under his hand as he slid his hand across his belly, under his jacket, and slid up his back, feeling the bunch and pull of muscles through Jason’s uniform.

About the way it felt when Jason’s hand dragged down his own chest, grazing one nipple and coming to a rest just above his hip.

Tim let out a gasping, desperate sound, canting his hips up, trying to get that sweet, sweet friction, when Jason froze.

Tim dimly realized that there were loud voices very near, that he’d been too distracted by making out with Jason to notice that the mercenaries were now right outside their hiding spot. That they were likely planning a move, and the only move Tim had been planning had involved his hand shoved down Jason’s pants.

Shit.

Tim slowly extricated his hand from inside Jason’s jacket, wondering senselessly if his own mouth looked as wrecked as Jason’s did.

Jason slowly unholstered a gun, sliding to the left and crouching down. The window-like entrance now seemed like a deathtrap; the mercenaries could easily aim their guns inside and take them out without ever allowing a clear shot.

Tim looked up, and could see the night sky. He grabbed Jason’s arm, pointed up. He was hesitant to break the silence that had fallen between them like a spell, afraid that one of them would say something that would ruin what had happened in the last ten minutes.

Jason nodded curtly, and they risked the sound of the decel lines firing. There was another rapid-fire burst of gunshots as they escaped upwards, but they only hit brick.

On the roof, Jason laughed, and Tim leaned over the edge, feeling that familiar thrill of survival as he watched the mercenaries begin to crawl into their former hiding spot.

“You ready to take these bastards down?” Jason asked, cracking his knuckles and peering down at the mercenaries, who were now crowded together, unable to fire a weapon without hitting each other. Tim didn’t miss how Jason’s gaze flickered back up to his mouth before turning his attention fully to the mercenaries.

“After you,” Tim said, gesturing grandly towards the ledge.

They dropped down, Tim fluttering his cape to create even more confusion. The feel of the mercenaries’ flesh under his boots was satisfying, but not nearly as satisfying as the hunger in Jason’s expression when he watched Tim.

Now that the violence was clearing his head, making the fact that he had made out with Jason seem wild and improbable even though he could still feel the ghost of Jason’s mouth on his, doubt set in.

It was likely a mistake. Something that shouldn’t be repeated, no matter how much Tim hoped that it would. There were so many reasons to not, and few justifications for them getting together.

Except the thought made Tim happy, made something within him yearn for more.

Tim pushed aside any thought of what might be, and focused on the moment at hand. After they’d survived, after they’d taken out the mercenaries and traced the money back to find who was funding an operation like that in Gotham, then Tim could indulge in fantasy. In a vague hope that this wasn’t a one-off event fueled by adrenaline.

But for now, it was enough.

#my fic #jaytim #jason/tim #tim drake #jason todd #this one has some making out in it folks #dc fic #Anonymous

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qqueenofhades · 5 years

Note

In celebration of The Bang That Was Promised, can I lovingly request Jaime and Brienne in the aftermath spending weeks being domestic af and living together at Winterfell? *blows kisses*

@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels said: O Great Queen of Trash Ships… could you perchance give us a glimpse of what those weeks were like for Jaime and Brienne between when they got together and when he left?

Obligatory disclaimer that I have not watched the episode, don’t know details, and also don’t give a shit. So here we are.

The morning – the morning after – Brienne of Tarth wakes up naked in a man’s bed for the first time in her life, and the entire world has changed.

She is convinced that it was all some highly colorised dream, it had to be. Something borne from wine and warmth in winter and the euphoria of banquets and celebrations and the sheer, unbelievable joy of victory, the end of the Long Night and the vanquishing of the Night King. She lies there with her eyes closed, an unfamiliar and vaguely pleasant ache between her legs, and still does not dare to open them. The things she remembers cannot be real. Hands fumbling at her tunic, and cupping her head, and elsewhere, and –

(Even in memory, it brings a scorching heat to her cheeks. No maiden now, perhaps, but still she blushes like one.)

Brienne lies there for a moment longer, remembering the dream as closely as she can, every sweet detail, every tense and thrust, the scrape of her hands over rough muscle, the scratch of his beard against her mouth, the small nothings he whispered. She does not know how she will look him in the face again, but if this is what she is going to have, only ever, she will stand it. She makes certain that she can, and determinedly opens her eyes.

Pale winter sunlight spills through the window and onto the floor. And when she turns her head, Jaime Lannister is asleep next to her.

Brienne stares at him until her eyes cross. Reaches out a timid hand, expecting him to fade, but her fingers find warm flesh. She pushes at his shoulder just to check, and with a warrior’s instinct, he wakes quickly and completely, eyes flashing open as he searches for danger. When all he sees is her, he does some staring of his own, then lets out an incredulous, tender, awed laugh. He catches her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing her fingers. “Stop poking me, wench.”

She does not answer, she cannot, for her heart is too raw and full and stunned with joy that it – that this – was no dream. “You’re real,” she manages, stupidly. Colour floods to her face, her neck, and she starts to roll away. “We – ”

Jaime catches her with his shortened arm, pulling her back toward him, both of them free and easy and with not a stitch on them beneath the blankets. “Where are you going in such a haste, good ser?” he murmurs mischievously, voice thick with sleep, silver glints catching in his beard. “Another battle?”

“I – ” Brienne laughs breathlessly. “Not that I am aware.”

“Mmm. Good.” Jaime shifts his weight, pulling her on top of him. “Well, we’ve already ensured that Tyrion and Pod are going to ask us several uncomfortable questions when we come downstairs, so – once more for luck?”

“I – ” Brienne starts again, only to be soundly interrupted as he pulls her head down and kisses her. His mouth is warm and generous and open, he lifts his hips up into her, and gods, she cannot, she does not, want to be anywhere but here, above him, with him, as he arches his hips and – gods –

(They are very late to breakfast.)

Over the next several weeks, it is like that. It does not cease to be a strange and impossible mystery.

Jaime has never been with anyone but Cersei, has never lain with anyone but Cersei, has never known anything except the intimacy as Cersei commands it and as Cersei wills. She never let him touch her if she did not want it then, or if she was angry at him, or she had a point to make, or — thinking back on it, he cannot understand how he never saw it as strange, the fact of her being his twin sister aside. She loved him, but she never loved him alone, whereas he was madly, helplessly devoted to her. He alone was never what she wanted. It was always something else along with it. Power, strength, another child, revenge on Robert, on their father, on everyone –

Brienne is different. They are sleeping together every night, Jaime has endured the expected ribbing from Tyrion about it (he thinks that if anyone, Tyrion Lannister has no room to judge anyone on their sexual habits, but he thinks of his little brother’s head lovingly on his shoulder after the battle of Winterfell, and cannot bring himself to estrange them again), and she has never stopped being hesitant, uncertain, as to whether it is really her that he wants. Jaime teaches her what the wildlings would call “the lord’s kiss” that night (he nobly forbore to casually drop this piece of information to Giantsbane, so that was gracious-victor of him) and Brienne gasps and clutches at his hair and afterward, as he is crawling up next to her with an air of self-satisfaction, looks hesitant. “Jaime – I haven’t – I don’t know – ”

“Shh.” He takes her in his arms. He has, of course, never been in bed with someone larger and stronger than him, but in some ways she still seems the smaller, even though he must stand on his tiptoes to kiss her. “I’m not expecting anything back, my lady. Not if you don’t want.”

Brienne considers this. She is still shy, but there is a dawning confidence in her face, the awakening of that old competitive spirit, that woman in armor who beat the Kingslayer’s arrogant arse black and blue, and is not about to let him have the last word on this. “Stay there, Lannister,” she says decisively, pushes him flat, and slides down his body, finding her way lower with small licks and kisses. Jaime arches his back and swears inventively as she takes him in her mouth, and commences discovering the multiple ways in which she can make him lose his mind. Seven save him, this was a bad idea.

And yet – it is more than that. It is catching her in corridors, and stealing small kisses, and catching hands, and waking up and going down to breakfast together, and Pod telling Brienne beamingly that he is happy for her, and Sansa’s smile as she sees them together, and Brienne holding his golden hand as they sit on the battlements of Winterfell one night (it is still as cold as his lord father’s heart, the north, and yet Jaime finds it warmer with her) and allow themselves to dream a little about the future. There is Tarth, and Brienne still Lord Selwyn’s only begotten child. Jaime sure as fuck does not think there’s much for him left in the westerlands. He gave up Casterly Rock when he took the white, and is not sure he could stand to return anyway.

They have not said anything, not yet, not explicitly. They are both aware that one war is only just ended, and another is not yet won. Neither of them openly suggests that he move with her to Tarth, and that there be a septon and a bride’s cloak (though, Jaime thinks, it would be better for her to drape him in her colors) and perhaps in time, other children. And yet it hangs in the air, wanted, wanted too dearly to ruin with truth. This is not a world for dreamers.

“Do you think we – ” Brienne starts, glancing sidelong at him. “Jaime, do you think we’d stay in the North until this is over?”

“I imagine you’ll stay with Lady Sansa,” Jaime says. “And I do not intend to be elsewhere than at your side.”

(She smiles at him then, tearily and tremulous and finally daring to believe it, as she did on the night he knighted her, and they drank to their last life and their last death, and yet they lived instead, and oh, his heart breaks.)

#jaime x brienne #braime #got spoilers #extasiswings #ask

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namjuicyy · 5 years

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The Contract - Chapter One

Masterlist | Requests are open.

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut.

Genre of this part: Angst.

Word Count: 2.6k.

Summary: Your life is turned upside down when a contract is pushed your way. But what happens if you sign it?

Warnings: BTS arguments, mentions of other groups in a sexual setting, multiple sexual partners suggestions.

Taehyung plonked himself down on the makeup chair, a sigh escaping his lips as he did so. He was tense, frustrated, and completely exhausted. There were heavy bags under his eyes from all the training, physical exertion and the lack of sleep that made him look a good ten years older than what he actually was. And he wasn't the only one looking that way. All six of his brothers were the same. And, as a result, each one was irritable and prone to snapping at their members with no warning. It was like the seven of them were walking on eggshells, constantly tiptoeing around one another in fear of starting an argument. They'd been doing this for five years. And whilst they enjoyed it, they were tired. Physically and emotionally.

They were tired of the early mornings and the late nights. They were tired of the plagiarism accusations and hate. They were tired of their privacy being invaded, by the press, the fans and even themselves. Their six-bedroomed apartment (that was originally four) was so small and pokey, with thin walls, there was just no privacy at all. Jungkook couldn't count the amount of times he'd walked in on one of his hyungs doing something, either in the bathroom or on their bed. He couldn't count the amount of times he'd had to shove his headphones in his ears to drown out the sounds of sex coming from bedrooms across the apartment. Well, that's a lie. He could. But that was only because his hyungs getting laid happened so infrequently he couldn't exactly complain about the noise. Not when it was something they obviously needed.

That was one of the few things that they loathed about their job. Worldwide, there was this assumption from the general public that with fame came thousands of young women willing to throw themselves cunt-first at their favourite celebrities and that they'd be having sex all the time. The Rolling Stones managed it. They were constantly involved in some kind of sex scandal, Namjoon was pretty sure of it.

But Bangtan Sonyeondan didn't get that side of fame. They got the busy schedules and the untrustworthy women who would be more than willing to sell just how big the member's dicks were to the first magazine who would buy her story. The boys couldn't trust anyone, and, as a result of this, couldn't do what normal twenty-year-old men usually do which was getting balls deep in the first consenting woman they could find. Hoseok couldn't remember the last time he felt a woman. The warmth and wetness that he heard so often in porn. Instead, like his members, he was forced to lube up his hand (or his Fleshlight if he was lucky enough to be at home at home) and go to town listening to two people fucking, wishing it was him.

The lack of intimacy made them frustrated in more ways than one. Sexually, of course, but also generally. It had gotten to the point where, the morning before a performance, Jimin and Jungkook had broken out into a huge argument over something so small and trivial, no one could remember just what it was about. The hyungs could just hear bickering coming from two of the maknaes, and the words becoming more and more venomous as the argument was allowed to continue. Yoongi rolled his eyes, locked his phone, and stood up, removing himself from the chair and heading into the corridor.

"Right!" His voice was loud and dominating, and echoed around the hallway. Despite the volume, he still hadn't raised his voice. Not really. Despite the steely tone his voice carried, he was still as calm and serene as ever. The power of his voice rang with, was enough to silence the arguing brothers, and force their attention onto him. "I don't give a fuck what this is about," Yoongi continued sternly, "I don't give a fuck who started it and I certainly don't give a fuck as to why you're still continuing. What I give a fuck about is the fact that there are thousands of Armys outside that door, waiting for us to put on the performance of a lifetime. And so help me God, if either of you let them down I will strangle the pair of you. Do you understand me?" Jungkook and Jimin didn't answer verbally, they just nodded. They daren't mess with Yoongi when he put on his 'dad voice' and threw his weight around.

Yoongi stepped back, no longer blocking the entrance to the makeup room and pointed to the door. "Now, get in there and get yourself sorted. ___'s been in there for ages waiting for your sorry asses and it's not fair on her to have to work overtime when you two can't help but butt heads. Go on."

You were stood at Jungkook's station, joining the rest of the room in silence as you listened to what the argument was about. Jungkook's regular artist was out for the day. She couldn't leave her bed apparently. Which is why you chose to step in on her behalf. Jungkook sat next to Taehyung, throwing himself down onto the chair just as his hyung did. He was clearly so done with everything, you weren't entirely sure what to say. Instead, you did what you knew would make him feel better by leaning down over him, and dangling your arms over his shoulders, resting them on his chest, hugging him from behind. Jungkook always loved it when he was in a bad mood and someone hugged him. And he loved it even more when it was you doing it.

"What was that all about?" You asked gently as you began working on his face. Not that he needed it. He was so infuriatingly beautiful without makeup, it made him ethereal when he wore it.

Jungkook sighed, frustration ever present in his voice. "Hyung taking things too far again. Not being able to take a joke."

"What was the joke?"

"Some crack about how his voice sounded like he was on helium."

You rolled your eyes and tutted. "Before a show, JK. That wasn't very smart was it? You know how he feels about his voice. Even at the best of times he's insecure about it."

"I just wanted to lighten the mood, ___-ah. I promise I didn't mean to offend him."

"I know, honey. But there's a time and a place but this is certainly not it."

"But he didn't just tell me to shut up like he usually does. He went really off the rails." Jungkook's expression changed from annoyance to worry. "He's never done that before. He started screaming at me. Calling me impertinent and disrespectful. I just wanted to make him laugh."

You could see his eyes beginning to water. "Okay. Alright. Here's what we'll do: we'll stop talking about it, and you won't cry and ruin everything I've already done so far, okay?"

Jungkook chuckled a little and nodded.

The concert went well, thankfully, and everyone put their differences aside to perform properly. But when the curtain fell, so to speak, and they were sure they were away from the fans, tensions began to rise again.

The car ride back to the hotel was silent but tense. No one dared say anything just in case the hatred for one another would spread. Jin sat there, looking out the window, watching the nightlife roll by and wondered how it had come to this. How they could have gone from being on the top of the world to almost hitting rock bottom. He'd been thinking it for a while, as had Namjoon. Maybe they should give it a rest, and move onto separate projects. Maybe.

They all sat in the only suite of the booking, and made sure Jimin and Jungkook could see each other as they discussed the events that had unfolded not five hours ago. Sejin, one of their managers, decided it was his job to join the discussion on behalf of the company, and as a friend, given that the argument was so large, it tore a hole in their teamwork. The boys confessed their feelings, confessed how tired they were, and how lonely they felt, and that they just didn't know what to do.

Things were resolved within two hours, a record for the boys. Usually arguments would last a week and would need a whole weekend of calm discussions to put the fire out. Maybe it was because of how fast Jimin and Jungkook were willing to apologise to one another. No one knew. But what they did know was that they were all physically and emotionally drained and were ready for their beds.

Sejin thought for a moment. His mind was ticking like a clock as he processed everything he'd heard and everything he knew after spending many years working alongside the band, and in the music industry. His voice raised as he spoke. "I think I might have a solution."

Jin, "A solution?"

Namjoon, "To what?"

Sejin, "Your problems. Well, some of them anyway." He was tentative with his words, carefully treading on untouched ground, not fully knowing how the boys were going to take his proposition. "There's this... arrangement I've heard of.."

Yoongi, "Nothing illegal, I hope."

Sejin shook his head. "No. Nothing like that. But, of course, it's still a very hush-hush topic. If fans aren't happy about idols dating, they most definitely won't be happy about this.

"You'll be surprised at the amount of bands who actually do this. It sounds worse than it actually is, and even female bands do it too. What they'll do, is they'll find someone within their company, someone they can trust and are attracted to, and will contract her to be intimate with them."

"So they turn a staff member into a prostitute?" Yoongi's question came out more like a statement, one he was disgusted in.

"No. Because the intimacy some band members have with her isn't sexual in the slightest. Sometimes it's making out on the sofa when they need it, or being cuddled to sleep. They move her into their apartment with them, and basically call on her when they need her... for whatever. Kihyun apparently gets MONSTA X's Affectionate to cook for him. Not because it's a sexist thing, but because, to him, it's such a sweet gesture. It's one extra thing for him to not have to worry about. Plus, apparently, she's amazing in the kitchen.

"I know that right now you guys are void of a good fuck," Sejin continued, "and maybe your lady could start out as being just that for you, when she consents to it. But over time, all you might require from her is a hug, or even a movie night. I know what you guys are like."

"Isn't that a bit weird though?" Namjoon asked. "We'd be sharing one woman?"

Taehyung chimed in. "Are you worried about jealousy?"

"That and the fact that she'd literally be our whore... even if she's not having sex with us. I don't know. If we had a partner each it wouldn't be as weird."

"Well, we can't afford a woman for each of you." Sejin countered. "It's one or nothing."

Jin laughed. "Bullshit you can't afford it. The company turns trillions over each quarter."

"I wasn't talking about financially. We can't afford to essentially lose seven women from the company. Because even though they'd still be working for Big Hit, you're essentially her boss. She'd be at your beckon call. Plus it will also teach you little shits some self-control." Everyone laughed. "You don't have to agree to it right away. Think on it, discuss it and let me know."

Namjoon hesitated, then spoke. "You say other bands have them. Who? I want to know what their relationships are like with their... whatevers."

"I'll email a list to you as soon as I get back to my room." Sejin offered.

Jungkook, "What? Do you managers have a group chat or something where you talk about who the band members are fucking?"

Sejin stood and turned to walk away. "Yes. We do." He joked.

"Sejinnie-hyung has sent me the email of bands." Namjoon announced as the members lounged on the sofas.

"Who's on there?" Yoongi asked.

Namjoon tittered. "Pretty much everyone we know. GOT7, EXO, VIXX, MONSTA X, SHINEE. The list seems endless. I guess we really didn't know just how common this was."

Jungkook, "You guys aren't seriously considering this, are you?"

Hoseok, "If it's going to make sure everyone here stops being so pissy all the time then yeah, I'm all for it."

Namjoon, "Well, there's certainly no harm in asking around is there? We'll do some research, come back with what we find and then make an educated, unanimous decision."

The boys did just that. At first, they couldn't believe that they were even entertaining the idea. It seemed so morally wrong to pluck one of their staff members out of all of them, move her in with them and fuck her until she couldn't walk. Who would they even choose anyway? How would it work? Their apartment was hardly big enough for them, let alone an additional person. Where would she sleep? Would she get her own space? Would they find anyone who would even consider entertaining this idea either?

They were told that some of their friends had these women. So Namjoon asked around. He called some of their colleagues who were experienced with this kind of thing and did the research for the band, returning to them with his findings. And, ultimately, there were more positives than negatives. Jackson, one of Namjoon's closest friends, explained GOT7's relationship with their lady. They call her their girlfriend, because that's essentially what she is. She's polyamorous, and is in love with all of the members, just as they are with her. Jackson admitted that it was odd, at first, given that they were all dating the same woman. But, in a strange way it just made them that bit closer. She's the calming outsider who knows them back to front and inside and out, who stops arguments before they begin and takes their stress away. And, they do the same for her. They love her, as she does them. She even refused to renew the contract because she wanted to stay with them. Of course, JYP made her sign a new one to cover their backs, but that's the only reason why they have a contract in place.

The more they heard about it, the more they warmed to the idea. And so, within a week they'd pulled Sejin to one side and told them they wanted to go ahead with it. Sejin was pleased. "Excellent! So," he pulled out his phone and looked at the boys expectantly, "tell me a few qualities you want her to have, and what you each want out of the relationship."

"A relationship." Namjoon told Sejin. "We want what GOT7 has. We want her to be a good friend of ours -"

Taehyung, "Warm."

Jin, "Kind."

Jimin, "Gentle."

Jungkook, "Sweet."

Hoseok, "Kinky." Everyone stared at Hoseok. "What? You were all thinking about it!"

Yoongi shook his head, but he didn't disagree. "We want someone who thinks of others. Who will do the little things that other people think doesn't matter. Someone open-minded who will let us take care of her as she will of us."

Namjoon, "She also has to be single. We don't want to break up a love that's already there."

Sejin stopped typing and locked his phone, a smile forming on his face. "I know exactly who you want."

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setaripendragon · 4 years

Text

Never Simple - Chapter 5

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] Okay, so, I promise this is a fix-it, but... this is also... kind of... worse than canon? =D? At least, it felt worse than canon when I was writing it -shrugs- Um, trigger warnings for... the standard venom-style warnings of attempted cannibalism and dubious-consent possessions, and then also warnings for dead alien babies, a dead dog, mostly off-screen reproductive slavery, and Tucker. Tucker gets his own warning because, obviously. Please proceed with caution if any of those things might upset you. I tried not to pull my punches with this one, so... yeah.

One week drifted by, and then two. Ed and Al spent most of their time either in the library, or outside playing with Nina and Alexander, because there wasn’t much that could keep Ed inside besides the library. He couldn’t find Tucker’s notes anywhere, so he was pretty sure the man had lied about them being in the library. Understandable, if annoying, given what Ed suspected was in those notes.

Shouldn’t you recognise him, if he did free one of the things from the gate? He had asked Truth on their second day at Tucker’s.

You all taste the same, in the end. Truth had replied, which was creepy, and Ed had ignored it for the rest of the day as he tried not to think about that. Not that it had much impact on Truth, who was being disturbingly quiet during their stay at Tucker’s house. It was preoccupied, Ed supposed, with the way the whole place just felt slightly wrong.

It was something of a relief to Ed that Tucker had meant it when he said he’d be busy. They barely saw the man except for dinner, and sometimes not even then. The times when they did see him were at least made less awkward by the way Nina chattered happily away about her day, apparently oblivious to the heightened tension that Ed felt whenever Tucker was around.

He’d told Al about what he suspected was the truth behind Tucker’s talking chimera, and Al had been appropriately horrified, but he was better at feigning politeness than Ed, who resorted, mostly, to reading at the dinner table in an effort to avoid having to talk to Tucker.

Then there were Al’s doctor’s appointments, which invariably concluded with the answer ‘we have no idea’ that frustrated Ed to the point of rage. Al was advised repeatedly to return for more tests, but those would have to wait until after Ed made State Alchemist and had the money to burn. So instead, Ed just made sure Al rested as much as he needed to and didn’t do anything too risky for his health, and tried not to worry himself sick as well. It wasn’t easy.

“I can get a glass of water by myself, Brother!” Al snapped at him in the middle of the night when Ed had woken to Al’s coughing and offered to accompany him to get something to drink to soothe his throat. Ed harrumphed, but didn’t push, just flopping back down and scowling at the ceiling as Al tiptoed out of their room.

By the time Al got back, Ed had very nearly worked himself into a proper snit, but one look at Al’s face in the gloom made him forget all about being annoyed with his brother. “Nina’s not in her bed.” Al told him without beating around the bush. “I stuck my head in, just to check on her, on my way back, but she wasn’t there.”

Ed clambered out of bed. “And she wasn’t in the bathroom?” He checked, even though it was obvious she hadn’t been. Al shook his head. “Kitchen?”

They went and checked, but the house was entirely still and dark. “Do you think… Maybe she just had a nightmare and went to Mr Tucker’s room?” Al suggested, wringing his hands together. They checked that, too. It was awkward to be knocking on Tucker’s bedroom door in the middle of the night, but Ed figured if Nina was there, they’d be forgiven, and if she wasn’t, then Tucker would probably want to know anyway.

But there was no answer. Impatient and more worried than he wanted to admit to, Ed opened the door. The room beyond was empty. Ed felt very cold, all of a sudden. Because if Nina had gone looking for her dad, and found the room empty just like Ed and Al had, he knew exactly where she’d look next. And what she’d find down there would be either human experimentation, or a monster that ate people.

Ed whipped around, met Al’s gaze, and knew they were thinking the same thing. They bolted for the stairs. They ran all the way down to the ground floor, and then pelted for the door that led down to the basement, where Tucker’s lab was. Those stairs were a lot less grand than the rest of the stairs in the house, just plain simple wood, just barely wide enough for two people to pass each other on them, and the further down them they went, the more ill Ed felt. It was a weird, shaky wrongness, like there were insects under his skin, gnawing at his bones. And that mental image was not helping.

Truth was echoing the feeling, though, touched with an edge of pain that Ed felt like a phantom ache, although it wasn’t centered anywhere, because Truth wasn’t really centered anywhere inside him. He ignored it, though, pushed it aside to shove open the door at the bottom of the stairs, disregarding all of Tucker’s instructions that they must knock before coming into the lab.

For a single heartbeat, Ed felt relief. Nina was there, kneeling on the floor and leaning forwards to peer at something, her dad crouched next to her and smiling down at her. And then Truth recoiled inside him, such a visceral reaction that Ed thought they might be about to throw up, and he finally noticed the horror show lining the walls.

At first glance, they looked like those dinky little toy plasma globes that some alchemist had made a fortune off selling as toys to kids. But then Ed realised that where the electrode should have been, there was something moving, a little pulsating, twitching orb of biological matter. Familiar-looking biological matter. And there were dozens of them on the shelves lining the walls of Tucker’s lab.

Grief ricochetted through Ed, and it took him several long seconds to realise it was Truth’s, not his own. Truth didn’t have words in the face of it, but Ed didn’t need them to realise that, even though they appeared to be moving, the creatures inside those jars had to be dead. How? What-? Ed tried to ask, but he could barely manage coherence even inside his own head. Truth was no better. All Ed got from it was a tangled sense of cages and torture and pointless, senseless death and the building urge to scream.

“Big brother!” Nina called, the sweet, innocent enthusiasm of her voice rattling through Ed like a blow. Slowly, Ed managed to turn his gaze back to her, but flinched when he realised that Tucker, too, had turned to look at him. Howling fury broke through him, and he gritted his teeth on it, curled his hands into shaking fists and struggled, desperately, to understand. “Big brother, come look! Alexander’s having babies!”

Stillness.

Ed was simply confused, because Alexander was very definitely a boy dog, not a girl dog, but Truth felt like a predator, frozen and tense like an alley cat at the sound of a slamming door. There was a terrible sense of understanding beginning to creep through Truth, but Ed couldn’t follow it, couldn’t keep up with whatever understanding that bizarre little statement of Nina’s had engendered.

“Babies, Nina?” Al asked, just as confused and wary as Ed felt, but with none of the horror. He didn’t have any real way of understanding what he was seeing, after all. He edged a little further into the lab, and Ed threw his arm out to keep Al from passing him. “Brother?” Al murmured, too quietly for anyone else to hear, especially not with the barely-audible hum of the plasma cages on the walls. A trickle of understanding filtered through to Ed as the thought passed through his mind. Truth had told him, hadn’t it, that fire was dangerous to its kind, and fire was a type of plasma.

“Come and see!” Nina insisted. As though he were a puppet on strings, Ed reluctantly jerked forwards, one step, two, another, and then he could see Alexander lying on a rug on the floor in front of Nina and Tucker. At least, he assumed it was Alexander, because it was vaguely dog-shaped, but there wasn’t a hint of white fur in sight, just a writhing mass of biological ooze in various shades and hues.

Between one blink and the next, Ed was no longer in Tucker’s lab, looking down at what was – should have been – used to be – Alexander, but instead standing in a field of white nothingness looking into a great stone archway filled to the brim with viscera reaching out tendrils in an attempt to catch him and drag him in to join them, to be consumed. Truth’s voice echoed in his ears; “I thought this was what you wanted, you arrogant little shit.” and he was coming apart, coming undone, dissolving on the spot into nothing more than soup, tiny little pieces of him plucked off one at a time-

Ed threw up. He gasped and gagged and heaved until his eyes were streaming involuntary tears and all he could taste was stomach acid, which only wound the panic tighter, every inch of him convinced that he was being turned inside out for the sadistic amusement of the voice that lived in his head. “-ther?! Brother!”

“Al-!” Ed gasped out, reaching a hand out in a flailing motion until another hand caught his and squeezed. It helped dial some of the terror back, allowing Ed to actually begin to breathe properly again, although his head swooped in ways that told him he’d probably been hyperventilating a moment before. He gripped Al’s hand as tight as he could and tried to pull himself together.

“Big brother? Are you okay?” Nina asked.

“Fine.” Ed rasped, even though it was a complete, stinking lie. “Fine, just…” He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of Alexander while very carefully not looking at him again, but didn’t elaborate. He wasn’t sure he could without throwing up again.

“It is a little bit gross.” Nina agreed carefully. “But they’re really pretty, too.” She assured him, so earnest that Ed forced himself to bite back the words that wanted to spill past his lips.

“They really are beautiful, aren’t they?” Tucker agreed, his voice suffused with something that might have been joy, except there was an edge to it that Ed found deeply disturbing. Or maybe that was just the fact that he was calling blobs of writhing viscera ‘beautiful’. Truth surged inside him, trying to pull at Ed’s body, trying to make him go over there and kill Tucker, but Ed didn’t even have to fight to keep his feet firmly where they were. He wasn’t going one step closer to whatever Tucker had turned Alexander into for all the books in Amestris.

Al tugged Ed around, pulled him into an almost-hug, and checked his temperature. If Ed hadn’t been trying to keep his breathing steady, he might have laughed. “Are you sure you’re alright, Brother?” Al asked quietly, a muted version of the panic swimming in Ed’s veins showing in his eyes.

Ed opened his mouth, struggling to find words to explain, or deflect, or something, when he was distracted by Tucker. “I’m sure Edward will be alright once he gets over the shock. Here, Nina.” He said, soothing and warm. “Do you want to hold one?”

“Can I?!”

Time felt like it had turned to molasses as Ed turned, as fast as he could but too slow, too slow, and lurched forwards. He didn’t want to, didn’t want to be here in this awful room, didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see, but that was his little sister reaching out to cup a monster in her hands. He couldn’t keep Al from getting hurt, couldn’t save him from whatever Truth had done to him in those twenty-four hours before Ed had stepped up to accept responsibility, but maybe he could save Nina, if he could just- just reach her in time-!

“NO!” He shouted, futilely, as Nina’s fingertips touched the slick yellow-brown mass and it began to crawl up her fingers like a swarm of insects, coating her arm and her shoulder and her neck and her chest and her face as she turned towards Ed at the sound of his shout. Between one heartbeat and the next, Nina’s wide-eyed, startled expression was hidden behind a mask of mottled yellow and brown, with a mouth full of shark teeth splitting into a wide, gaping snarl.

“H-hun-gry-!” The thing possessing Nina stammered out, as though its mouth didn’t quite know how to shape the word.

Ed’s whole body threatened to lock up in terror, the memory of a different beloved face being swallowed up behind blue, instead of yellow, surging to the fore of his mind and leaving him paralysed. Truth surged again, and this time, Ed had no willpower to spare fighting it off, no conviction strong enough to maintain control. Truth brought their hands together while twisting out of the way of Nina’s – not Nina’s – lunge, leaving those jaws to snap shut on nothing but air. As palm met palm, an array bloomed to life in Ed’s mind, and even though he’d never seen anything remotely like it before, he still, somehow, knew it down to his bones.

It was deceptively simple, little more than a pentagram inside a circle, with another circle just within the first, and a bisected circle over the heart of the pentagram. Five little nodes within the two outer circles between the points of the pentagram held the symbols for the four different states of matter and, in the one at the bottom, a pair of curved lines with circles at either end. Dissolution of the physical mass into a contained state between the fabric of the world.

Such a simple array, for something so terrible. Truth pulled their hands apart just in time to catch hold of the thing that wasn’t Nina as it tried to bite them again. The moment skin touched not-skin, alchemical energy lit the room, red-purple sparks crackling through the air as the thing that wasn’t Nina wailed. Ed would have flinched if he’d been in control of his body, because it sounded exactly like a baby’s cry, if the cry had been coming from underwater. Yellow-brown ooze melted away, breaking apart and disappearing into the air like cinders from a bonfire, leaving behind Nina’s small, trembling form in Ed’s arms.

Ed collapsed to his knees, pulled her close, and pressed his face into her hair, trying not to cry, not sure if it was himself, or Truth, that most felt like weeping. You sent it to the gate, didn’t you? He thought tiredly.

Yes. Truth confirmed.

Nina was right, wasn’t she, when she called them babies? It couldn’t even talk properly.

…Yes.

Ed felt acid rise in the back of his throat, and he swallowed convulsively. Now was not the time to throw up again. That’s NOT RIGHT! He insisted, clutching Nina even closer. She was making tiny wounded noises, frightened noises and clutching at the front of his pyjamas.

There was nothing else to be done. Truth replied, achingly quiet in the wake of Ed’s mental shout. There is no other way to stop us.

It was a BABY! Ed thought desperately. It didn’t know any better!

That wouldn’t have made you any less eaten if we’d done nothing! Truth retorted, with equally furious desperation. Ed couldn’t summon up words in the face of that, couldn’t think in linear sentences when all he felt like doing was screaming, because that had been a brand new sentient creature that was being punished for nothing more than wanting to live.

“What did you do? How did you do that?!” Tucker demanded, bringing the rest of the world crashing back into Ed’s awareness. Ed lifted his head to glare at the man, a sick, hot fury flooding through him. Tucker’s eyebrows flew up as if Ed’s hatred had actually startled him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, adjusting his glasses and making them flash in the eerie light of the prisons full of corpses lining the walls. “If you know enough about these things to be able to destroy one of them, then you must have done the same thing I did.”

“Don’t-” Ed snarled, so full of fury and disgust that his voice cracked on the word. “-put me on the same level as you.”

“No?” Tucker challenged, smiling faintly. “But we are the same, Edward, we both committed the same taboo. We looked at the human body and thought we could improve upon it, didn’t we? Who was it, that you tried to pull apart to see how they worked?” He wondered, mildly, curiously, like this was an intellectual debate in a lecture hall, not-

It would be easy to answer that question, to try to explain that he had only been trying to help, but a realisation dawned on him that thoroughly distracts him. “Your wife didn’t just up and leave one day, did she?” He asked hollowly. Nina went very still in his arms.

Tucker sighed, slow and deep. “No. I needed a breakthrough. I was so close to making a chimera that would astound the military, and then I could keep her and Nina in the life they deserve, I just needed to understand, and-” Tucker cut himself off, head snapping around.

Ed followed his gaze to Alexander. Or what had once been Alexander. Because the largest of the things bubbling out from under Alexander’s fur was peeling itself free, an oozing mass of red-streaked black stretching and creeping across the floor leaving only bare tendrils behind it attached to the raw and bloody mess that was all that was left of Alexander. Ed made sure to keep one hand curled around Nina’s head, keeping her face pressed to his chest so she couldn’t see that little piece of hell.

Tucker clicked his tongue, reached out and picked up a clear glass jar. Then he stooped and scooped the majority of the black ooze into the jar, and Ed abruptly realised what it was. His gut swooped, and he tried to stand, tried to stop him, but he had to untangle himself from Nina first, and by the time he’d managed to get to his feet, Tucker was already screwing on the lid – the base – and pressing a finger to the array etched into it.

There was a hiss, and then the gasses in the outer bulb of the jar ionised, and lightning began to dance through it. The creature within shrieked, and retreated to the inner bulb, coiling in and in and in on itself in an attempt to escape the plasma. “There.” Tucker said, satisfied, holding the jar up to peer inside with a terrible, beatific smile on his face. “It took me a long time to figure it out, you know, but plasma is anathema to them. I’m still not quite sure why.” Tucker explained, over the shrieking that still hadn’t stopped. “But at least, like this, they can’t eat anyone.”

Ed wanted to scream. “You know the rest of them are dead, right? That’s why they’re not eating. Because they’re dead.” He didn’t know quite how he knew that, but he did. Truth’s knowledge, he supposed, but he’d known it from the moment he laid eyes on them, and now, seeing the live one in the jar in Tucker’s hand, he could see the difference in the way they moved. The one in Tucker’s jar looked alive, responsive, shying away from the plasma in the outer bulb. The ones in the jars on the walls were just… twitching.

Tucker blinked rapidly at him, startled. “But they’re moving.” He said dumbly.

“Automatic response. It’s their version of fucking post-mortem muscle spasms.” Ed snarled.

Tucker pushed his glasses up his nose and set the jar negligently aside on his desk. “Fascinating. How do you kn-” He got no further, however, because in that moment, Alexander’s corpse had staggered upright and lurched for Tucker. Half its muzzle was missing, fur and skin and muscle devoured all along the left side of its body, still dripping blood here and there even as Ed saw the edges of the worst wounds beginning to close over, muscles knitting back together to enable proper movement.

It’s jaws snapped shut on air as Tucker jerked backwards with a curse. “No! Daddy!” Nina yelled, high and desperate, and Ed flung an arm out in panic, but Nina just ducked under it and flung herself between her father and the monster trying to eat him. She looked so horribly pale in the strange light of the lab, eyes far too wide and a little unfocused. Not really processing what she was seeing, just acting on instinct.

Ed and Truth moved in concert, so harmonised in their intent to save Nina that the edges of who was doing what blurred. The world turned clear and utterly predictable, and they could taste the exact chemical composition of the air, could hear the vibrations of heartbeats, could feel the heat of every living thing in the room. The cages lining the wall screeched against their senses, the pulsing wrongness of the plasma an affront, but ignorable.

They crashed into Alexander mid-leap, sending him careening off-course to hit the ground on his side with a dull, wet thud. The hands that came up into their oddly grainy and yet inexplicably clear line of sight were not the tanned, ink-stained ones Ed expected. They were a perfect stark white, too smooth and agile to look anything other than uncanny, and when they pressed together, that same array sprang into their mind, perfectly formed and perfectly clear.

No. Ed said, only it didn’t come out of his mouth like he intended it to. Their hands did freeze, though, pressed together as if in prayer.

There is nothing else we can do! Truth snarled at him.

This is wrong. There has to be a better way! Ed insisted. The thing riding in Alexander’s corpse staggered to its feet and attacked them. They grabbed it around the throat, but not before it got close enough to sink its teeth into their leg, tearing a chunk out of them. Shock rippled through Ed, but the pain he was expecting never came. Just a dull sort of ache, a knowledge of loss, even as white bubbled up to fill the gap until it was as smooth as ever, as though nothing had happened.

The thing in Alexander snarled using his vocal chords, head twisted at an awkward angle, and tried to mimic them, patches of dark blue viscera oozing out of flayed skin and exposed muscle. You had best come up with your ‘better way’ fast, arrogant little alchemist, before it eats more of us than we can replenish. Truth sneered at him.

Tell it to stop? Ed suggested

Truth very clearly imagined a sensation of rolling eyes at Ed, but obliged. “That is enough, little one. These people are not food.” It commanded. The thing riding around in Alexander’s corpse snarled, and lunged again. Well? Any other bright ideas? Truth challenged while grappling with the dog.

Okay, just… can’t we just get it out of Alexander for now? Ed wondered.

And what? Put it in one of Tucker’s jars?! Truth retorted, making Ed flinch internally.

No! Of course not! Ed protested, but he didn’t have any other answers. Truth snarled wordlessly, and dug white fingers through the largest bubbling, oozing patch of speckled blue ooze. Alexander began to twist and writhe, splattering blood and strips of torn flesh everywhere as the thing inside him screeched. Truth plunged their other hand into Alexander’s body, and pulled, scooping alien mass out of mortal flesh at a molecular level with every pass of their fingers. A blue-black speckled mass came out in handfuls, trailing sticky threads back to Alexander’s body, which staggered dizzily, and then collapsed in a lifeless heap as Truth hauled another fistful, and then another into a small bundle that it could just about hold between both hands.

With Truth holding it contained like that, it was about the size of a large apple, if large apples squirmed and writhed and attempted to ooze out of the gaps between your fingers at every opportunity. “You’re not going anywhere, little one.” Truth chided. “Stop.”

The little blue blob made a sound kind of like a growl.

A dart of movement, a flash of heat passing by distracted them, and they looked up to see a mass of little red tentacles pounce on what was left of Alexander’s corpse and begin devouring it head first. It’s like herding cats. Truth thought in exasperation.

Ed snickered a little hysterically, and it came out warped and reverberating, silencing him abruptly when he heard it. It’s fine. At least- He felt sick, but he could prioritise, right now. At least Alexander is already dead. It’s fine. He insisted.

Truth accepted that without a word. Well? What are we to do with this little one, if we’re not to send it to the gate where it can be safely contained among its kin?

Ed faltered. I don’t… I don’t know. Ed admitted.

While you puzzle it out, do recall that we’re not going to be able to hold on to this one forever. Truth snapped. Not that Ed needed the reminder. It was like trying to hold on to a greased eel that was also capable of shape-shifting, and the only reason they’d managed it so far was because there were two of them, and Truth could focus on holding onto the thing which left Ed free to figure out what to do with it.

There was only one potential solution that came to him, but it wasn’t actually a good idea. It relied so heavily on chance, and it would only make things worse if it failed, and Ed honestly didn’t know if he liked it any better than the other options, let alone how he would convince Truth to give it a go. I’m surprised it hasn’t tried to bite our fingers off yet. He thought absently, a paltry attempt to distract himself from picking between a bunch of bad options.

We cannot, not while we are without a host. Truth informed him, projecting to Ed the sensation of passing through food instead of absorbing it and being left only with the phantom sensation of satisfaction that only made the hunger more acute. That seemed odd, to Ed, because he’d just seen-

The bottom dropped out of Ed’s stomach. It shouldn’t have been possible, given how many times already he’d felt the whole world give out on him just this evening, but apparently, there was still enough horror left in him for this. Because what he had taken for just another formless oozing shape wasn’t.

He turned their attention back towards Alexander, and the thing gnawing on his spine. That was a tiny human shape, creamy yellow limbs streaked with rust red like tiger stripes that matched the mass of tentacles spilling out of their head and back like a deranged facsimile of hair. It seemed to notice the sudden stillness, and looked around to stare at them with perfectly round, perfectly blank eyes set in a face that was uncanny in how human it wasn’t. That- That was Nina.

Ed staggered, head full of static. He was aware, on some level, of the world around him continuing to exist, of Nina and something else staring at him through that tangled mass of red tendrils, but he had disengaged. It was too much. Too many horrors one on top of the other, and he couldn’t cope.

There was red staining the teeth that he could see in Nina’s mouth. Blood. Because the thing inside her had made her eat her only friend, at least until Ed and Al had come along. There was a scream building in Ed’s throat that couldn’t escape because it wasn’t his own throat right now. What must they look like, right now, two alien monsters staring at each other across a bloody, corpse-filled laboratory?

No! Focus, Ed! Truth yelled as it moved their body, diving to catch- Oh, Ed had dropped the other one, the blue one, let it slip through his fingers while he was too busy contemplating whether Nina was going to try and eat him next, just like this one had. Stupid. But his head was full of static, a scream that he couldn’t voice, and he couldn’t focus.

Their clumsy grab missed, and the blue creature oozed across the floorboards like a mould. Either snap out of it and focus or let me do it! Truth commanded, and Ed… Ed relinquished control. He willingly took a back seat in his own mind, retreating from the reality of everything that had happened that evening. Truth’s movements became suddenly much swifter, much more fluid.

And when Tucker, dark speckled blue ooze crawling across face in a horrifying echo of the worst day of Ed’s life, reached for Nina, Truth was able to get between them, was able to knock Tucker’s feet out from under him and drop to one knee, hands coming together again with that array filling their mind. A scythe made of living biomass sliced clean through their arm, and Truth cursed as their remaining hand shot out to grab at the arm the scythe had grown out of, slamming it to the floor and pinning it there with three little growths like spears out of their palm.

The creature controlling Tucker reared up off the floor, teeth bared, and Truth slammed it back down onto the floor with a foot on its neck, and once again brought their hands – one of them newly regrown – together before slamming them down onto Tucker’s blue-covered chest. The creature dissolved into the air with a wail like an infant, peeling away from Tucker in bits and pieces, leaving just the man behind.

“No-!” He rasped, free hand rising in an attempt to grab at the disintegrating bits of biological matter, and Ed came back to himself with a snap. Fury subsumed his shock, and he fisted their hands in Tucker’s shirt, clenching them tight with the cresting rage before the tidal wave broke over him and he lifted one fist to bring it crashing back down into Tucker’s face. It was packed with enough power to split the skin over Tucker’s cheekbone, and Ed distantly thought he ought to be surprised by that, but he wasn’t. This wasn’t quite his body anymore. It was theirs, Ed’s and Truth’s, and Truth’s body was flexible. Truth’s body could be shaped to pack one hell of a punch.

Some part of Ed wanted to shout, to call Tucker every awful name under the sun, but he was too furious for words. Furious that even though it had tried to make him eat his own daughter, Tucker had still been more concerned about losing his fucking research opportunity or whatever than his own child. Furious that he hadn’t even had the strength of will to stop the thing possessing him from trying to eat Nina. Furious that Ed’s mum, who had done that, who had fought that hard just for him, was dead, while this man got to live. Furious that he was only alive because he’d forced Ed to condemn another ignorant child to an eternal prison to save lives that Tucker had endangered in the first place.

Something caught hold of their wrist, and they whipped around to see round, blank white eyes staring at them from out of a cream-yellow face surrounded by rust-red tendrils, a handful of which were wound tight about Ed and Truth’s wrist. “St-top.” The creature possessing Nina said. Sorrow so acute it felt like agony welled up in Ed and Truth in tandem, and even though it felt awful, Ed didn’t protest when Truth brought their hands together one more time. “Stop. Don’t- h-hurt Da-ddy.”

Shit, stop! Ed shouted, managing to freeze their hands inches away from the creature’s shoulders.

We can’t just- Truth began, frustration welling up inside it and throwing them, once again, out of sync. Ed made a distracted mental note to work on that.

Do babies of your species even understand the concept of dads? Ed thought furiously, and Truth faltered. With a surge of triumph, Ed shoved his way forward, not-so-politely requesting that Truth back the fuck down. Truth went with nothing more than a grumble, retreating into Ed’s skin and leaving him more or less in control of his own body again. “Nina?” Ed asked softly, and the creatures eyes seemed to widen slightly.

“Ed-ward-?” The thing that both was and wasn’t Nina asked.

“Yeah.” Ed confirmed, mustering up a smile from somewhere. “Yeah, it’s me, Nina.”

“Ni-na…” The thing said, head tipping sideways, confused. Ed’s heart hurt. “Nina wa-ants… Don’t h-hurt Da-addy. Big bro-ther. P-ple-ease?”

“Okay.” Ed choked out. “Okay, I promise. I won’t- I won’t hurt your dad. Nina, I swear.” He rambled, tentatively reaching out and touching the side of the creature’s face, of Nina’s face. The texture of the thing’s not-skin was nauseating. Slick and smooth and warm, trying just a bit too hard to feel like flesh, so all it really felt like was wrong. It let out a sigh, and slumped, head drooping and tendrils unwinding from Ed’s wrist. “Hey, Nina?” Ed asked softly. “Do you think- do you think your new… friend could- could go back inside, now?”

Not-Nina lifted their head again to look at him. “In-side?” They asked.

Truth helpfully bubbled out over one arm for Ed to show them, and then sank slowly back under the skin. “Like that, see?” Ed offered. Slowly, without a word, the other one mimicked Truth, disappearing in patches as it figured out how to pull itself inward and tuck itself away inside a human host. He almost wanted to laugh, because maybe he couldn’t have helped all of them, but at least this time he wasn’t going to have to hurt a child.

Nina sat there, swaying and blinking blearily for a moment before she squinted up at Ed. “Big brother?” She asked in broken little whisper that was still worlds more comforting than the broken, rough stammer of the thing inside her. Ed pulled her into a tight hug that she returned with equal fervour, and he screwed his eyes shut when he felt her shake with little, hiccuping sobs.

“I’m sorry, Nina.” Ed breathed. “I’m so sorry. You’re okay. It’s okay.” He promised, even though he wasn’t entirely sure it was. His little litany of reassurance faltered, though, when he felt Nina go stiff as a board in his arms. He drew back, wary, afraid that the thing possessing her was going to try and take over again, but no, Nina still looked like herself. She was staring blankly over Ed’s shoulder with eyes gone wide and a face so pale Ed was worried she was going to pass out.

He looked around to see what had put that look on her face, and froze as well. The whole lab was splattered with blood and gore, and there, lying like a macabre centerpiece in the middle of the floor, was the mangled, headless remains of Alexander’s corpse.

Nina screamed.

#Fullmetal Alchemist #Venom AU #Edward Elric #Nina Tucker #Nina Tucker lives #Alexander does not #sorry not sorry #Shou Tucker #TW: dead babies #TW: possession #TW: reproductive slavery #TW: dead dog #I don't know if there's a better or more common term for that #TW: cannibalism #lemme know if I forgot to warn for something #this chapter is a horror show #so I might very easily have missed something

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insomniac-dot-ink · 6 years

Text

Things that Keep me up at Night pt 4

Genre: sci-fi, period piece, wlw

Words: 4k

Summary: A runaway and an anxiety-ridden young housewife try to build a bomb shelter in her backward in the 1950s. Digging in the woods soon turns to trouble as they find something unusual buried in the earth.

OR: the bomb, the bombshell, and the box in the woods.

Part I ~ Part II ~ Part III ~ Part lV

WordPress ⭐Ko-Fi ⭐Patreon

Part IV

I’m holding a hockey stick again, I’m holding a hockey stick and scowling at Todd as he stands in front of the door.

He had his arms crossed over his chest, “I don’t know what kind of mental break this is,” he addresses Ginger full on, “but I don’t think we have time for it.” He sniffs, “I have work tomorrow honey.” Ginger was standing with her broom in hand and a helmet over her curls, “Honey,” she says back, “get out of the way.”

I would have laughed at the expression on his face at that moment if I wasn’t just about to confront transparent men in black suits. I get on my tiptoes to look out the window, three of them now stood in the driveway, silent, still as the grave.

I wrinkled my nose at them, “this isn’t helping your case!” I yell over at them but they don’t react, my skin prickles.

“The police are coming any minute now,” Todd was wagging a finger at us, Ginger grabs it.

“I don’t want to have to use The Heaviness on you,” she informs darkly.

I raise my eyebrows, “The Heaviness?” I ask curiously, she glances over at me.

“Yes,” she licks her lips, “that’s what I’m calling it.”

I cover my mouth and snort, “remind me not let you name mine.” “That’s called ‘The Great Upsy-daisy’.” She says with a completely blank face.

My face breaks into a grin and I laugh, “seriously?” “No.” Something shines, we’re looking at each other with a type of pre-battle bravado, Todd is just scowling.

“I don’t know what this,” he says through his teeth as he points the two of us, “is. But-” “Todd,” I reach forward, “we need you to leave now.” I grab a vase from off the nearest table, I probe around inside myself, trying summon the strange electric feeling. The vase falls toward the ceiling in one long whoomph.

Todd steps backward, “what the hell.” The vase crashes back to the earth and I step around him so we can go back outside. We don’t look back as we walk out toward the men in black suits, the plastic men. Ginger stays behind me for a moment.

“Wait, wait,” Ginger motions for Todd to stay and maybe he sees something we don’t, he stays perfectly still as he looks over at the men. “Don’t talk to them.” He says in a scared whisper.

I just shake my head and lift my hockey stick up, I bare my teeth at them, “what the hell do you want?” I wasn’t always good at listening.

There heads move in tandem, both turning at once to look at me, there hands start reaching out. “Wait!” Ginger scurries forward and lifts her own hands up, “I’ll crush you to the ground, talk to us you bastards.” I glance at her as she says ‘bastards’ and it’s almost therapeutic.

They pause, but only for a moment. I hear the ringing, the fresh clear ringing, I go to cover my ears and start shaking.

“What do you want?” I roar again, “What is that box?” I see a sudden shimmer over their plastic shiny skin, as if I had unlocked something. My mouth falls open and I cock my head to the side, “do you want the box?”

They are still reaching, slowly, and both me and Ginger take a step backward, “I’m serious.” Ginger glances between all of them. “I’ve done it before.” She looks over to me as we get closer together, “I’m not sure this was actually a good idea.” I just nod briefly, “Perhaps we should-” I’m cut off at the sound of a car engine rumbling and headlights flashing down the street, we both turn our heads as a black and white car pulls up. The silent, plastic men don’t move either. The car stops and the headlights turn off as a figure starts waving.

“Hey Samuels,” a police officer steps out, “what’s-” He pauses as he accesses our gear, Ginger’s pants, and then turns slowly to the three men in the driveway. He reaches for his holster, “Okay. Who are they?” “Officer!” Todd finally rushes out, “officer, my wife is having a mental breakdown and these three won’t leave.” He looks over to me, “four I mean.” “Why do they,” I didn’t know what officer Kirkland was seeing, but I do see sweet pour down the side of his temple, “why do they look like that?” They look over the cop in tandem and I suddenly have a bad feeling about this. I hear a distant, high pitched noise just as the officer picked up his walky-talky, he mutters a string of numbers into it.

I hear the ringing almost hiss, “stop that.” The police reaches for his gun, “Samuels, I don’t know what trick this is-” “No trick!”

“But I’m going to need them to step back from the women.” He was eyeing them, a little stricken.

“I think you should go,” I address the policeman quickly, “I don’t think they like you very much.” Kirkland narrows his eyes, “Gentlemen,” he addresses the figures, “I’m afraid this family has asked you to leave.” One of the figures raises his hands and Ginger moves faster, “get down!” She pushes the police officer aside and the ground where he stood bursts open like a gash wound, I swallow thickly. It was a nothingness, an indescribable hole of emptiness that gaped angrily.

“What do you want?!” I yell at them, one last time.

“Put your hands up!” Officer Kirkland had drawn his gun, his eyes going wild as he looks back at the fresh hole in the ground and then back to the men.

“No,” Ginger looks between all of them and then the plastic men raises his hands, “we need this to stop!”

“Ah!” Kirklands eyes go wild, “what is that?” It was ringing, “What is that?!” “Stop!” Ginger waves her hands in the air, “stop all this or we really will blow up your box! Stop everything or else.”

“Ah!” Blood rushed down officer Kirkland’s face, but not before he squeezes the trigger around the gun, I hear a bang, I duck down as I always taught myself to do and cover my ears. I wait for another blood curdling scream.

The scream doesn’t come.

The air is trapped in my lungs and every nerve in my body prickles. I crack open one eye and see a bullet suspended in air. I hear nothing, nothing at all. It takes a long moment for me to open my eyes again fully and look up, see Ginger, standing, slack-jawed, in front of where a bullet was hovering in mid-air.

My eyebrows raise, we both exchange a very slow look. Ginger’s eyes were wide, her breath coming out in rapid, unhinged bursts. She takes a stumbling step backward, I glance over at Todd and Officer Kirkland, neither of them were moving, their muscles and limbs tensed but immobile, frozen.

“Todd?” Ginger’s voice resounds like a dream.

I look around, I see the plastic men, they were further away now, standing in the street and still observing us. “Don’t take another step forward!” I yell as I see them easing forward, not walking, just creeping like a shadow across the earth. “Stop before I break the damn box!” They pause and I nod.

“Oh no,” I hear Ginger run into the house and I turn around to run after her.

---------------------------

I’m standing in a closet, looking out over a woman with her head between her knees, she was breathing like she might hyperventilate her lungs out. “What have we gotten ourselves into,” she says in one quick, rasping breath, “oh God.”

I put my hand out to pat her head, she covers her mouth, “I don’t feel well.” I nod back, “me neither.” I assure as I look back out the window, nothing had changed, nothing had moved. Even the moon was taped on the horizon like it would never move again.

I feel my own insides harden, I had stopped feeling all this a long time ago. “I think they want the box.” I say slowly, evenly, my eyes hardening. “I think we should give to them.” “What,” Ginger tugs on my sleeve, “they could hurt us. They could do something if we give it to them.” I look back at her, huddled on the floor with her hair cascading down her shoulders in frazzled ribbons, I give a tight smile. “It’s alright,” I say in a soft tone, “I’ll do it. I don’t have much to lose.” Her expression tightens, “No. Never,” She whispers and then pats the floor beside her, “sit with me.” She says in a small voice before a ghost of smile covers her face, “We have time.” I kneel down creakily beside her and she wraps an arm around me shoulders, we both sigh together, breathe together, waiting for something. “Thank you.” I close my eyes and put my head on her shoulder.

“I didn’t know what to think,” she says in a light tone, “when you came off the bus all those days ago.” I glance back at her, “Didn’t know what to think?” I say flatly, “You could start with ‘huge mess.’” I offer and she just shakes her head.

“I was hoping you’d be there,” she wasn’t looking at me, “I just had a feeling about it. But I was hoping you’d be there when I went to go ask for some help.” I lean my head back and stare at the ceiling, “that feels like a lifetime ago.” She hums and shifts her position, I wrap my arm more tightly around her and lift her slightly up, she crawls up, positioning herself to sit on my lap. We both exhale together this time.

“It was a nice lifetime,” she says with a shrug, “you were funny.” I snort, “you had money.” She elbows me, “well, I still do. You’re allowed to all of it once we get through this.” I stare back at her, “do I get to add an ‘if.’” She shakes her head, “absolutely not.” She leans on my chest, “we have no choice but to make it through, that’s a promise.” I turn my head slightly so I can kiss the top of her head again, “that’s what they all say.” She turns to me, slowly, evenly, her eyes wide and lips parted, “I’m sorry about earlier.” She says lowly, “I was in a hurry. I’m sorry if it was inappropriate.”

I can’t help but snicker, “that’s what you want to talk about?” She just bunches herself up a little closer, “I can’t tell with you,” she searches my face, “if you’ve just been being nice this whole time.” I wrap my arms around her shoulders and drag her closer as we huddle on the ground. “Oh no.” I leer slightly, “I’m mean.” I wet my lips, “and if that’s inappropriate.” I shrug, “then I never want to be appropriate again.” Her face lights up slowly, “only if it really was alright.” I roll my eyes, “You caught me,” I shake my head sardonically, “I hate being kissed.” She frowns, “well, that’s a problem then.” I give a slow smile, “why?” “Because I think…” Her cheeks flare, “that I enjoyed kissing you.” “Well,” I shift in place and bite my lip, “I could always change my mind. I hear time is frozen Miss Ginger Samuels. ”

She grins, her hand slipping over my cheek and cradling it, “good.” I don’t hesitate this time, “but give a girl a chance this time.” I creak my neck to the side and press forward, this time I needed to kiss back.

She’s soft, soft as the press of flower petals to my lips or the soft crush of breeze on my face, soft as heartbreak, something clenches inside me but I don’t give in. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer.

Our mouths move over one another, sending thrills down my spine and making my head spin, she tilts her head and kisses a bruise across the mouth. Warmth spreads throughout my limbs like warm water poured into a cool bath, I tingle down my spine.

“Ginger,” I whisper softly into her mouth and dig my nails into the small of her back, we kiss like the world might end. But maybe Ginger always believed the world was about to end, I kiss like maybe it’s just started.

I don’t know how long we come together, but I know my face is flushed and hot as a firecracker, I know I want to never let go right then. She pulls back anyway, blinking as if coming out of a dream.

We pant softly and look at each other’s eyes, bright with something raw and terrifying. Ginger licks her lips and sits up straight.

“If we don’t leave now I may never be able to leave this room again,” she says and smooths my choppy red hair down and looks into my face.

I take a deep breath, “and what’s wrong with that?” She shakes her head, “you’re too much.” She kisses my mouth again, just a peck this time. “We need to face some faceless men.” I frown at her as she starts to untangle herself, I sigh, “life is unfair sometimes.” I grumble, “but I guess I already knew that.” She reaches for my hand and takes it, kissing the knuckle one by one before trying to drag me to my feet. “Why’s that?” She asks with a grunt.

I shrug, “we only kiss when we’re in mortal danger.” She gives me a sad smile, small and hesitant, “I promised myself I’d never do this sort of thing again. So maybe it did take mortal peril to make me…” She takes a deep breath, “to sort it all out again.” I raise my eyes, “this sort of thing… again?” I look at her carefully as she stretches and goes to hold my hand again.

She gives me a wink, “don’t think this was my first kiss.” I make a small face, “was she cuter than me?” Ginger leans into my body and maybe I really could live in this room forever. Ginger whispers into my skin, “she wishes.” I nod dumbly, still feeling dumb all over. And slow. And like maybe it might be enough to save the world from a blue box. I could fashion this feeling into a sword and shield- then I could fight the whole entire damn world.

If only I could just hold onto this moment with all my might and not let it be torn out of my hands and shredded like everything else.

We both take a deep breath, still holding hands as we turn back towards the outside world, we march our way down the stairs and see their faces in the first story windows.

“They’re waiting for us,” I whisper, but Ginger already knew that. Every fiber of my being is tensing this time, but I don’t turn, I don’t sprint as far as I can in the other direction.

We stand in front of the back door and glance at each other, “one.” She says.

“Two,” I nod back. “Three,” We both grab the doorknob and yank it open, the Plastic Men don’t try to barge in this time, they step aside and I knew in my gut where they want us to go. We don’t let go of each other as we walk into the woods.

The forest is completely quiet now, I pass a small firefly caught in mid-flight and resist the urge to tap it. “It really all stopped,” Ginger said, wide-eyed, “they stopped time.” I observe a spider hoisted in midair and the quiet stillness around us, I shiver, “I… I guess so.” The clearing comes sooner then I would like, the deep stillness of the world, the painted moon over my shoulder, and the silent, suited men making my stomach turn. But maybe I wouldn’t be human if it didn’t.

The hole looks just the same as we approach, round and dark and I can feel Ginger crush my hand in hers as we get close.

“What are you going to do when we get there?” I look over to her, my eyes slitted slightly and my heart pounding, I hadn’t admitted it to myself, but I knew what I was going to do. I always knew what I was going to do, and for once it might be for the right reasons. “Ginger,” I take a deep breath and swivel my head back towards the hole, “sorry.” I let go of her hand just as she reaches for me and I dive headlong into the hole, dashing forward just as she calls after me, I stick my hand in the enclave first. “Take it!” I scream as I shove my hands forward and grasp for it.

IRRRRRRRRING

“Take it!”

It begins to make it’s silver ringing sound again, but I don’t let go, I feel it’s perfectly smooth surface and my teeth chatter as if I’m freezing, electricity courses through my veins. “Take it!” I yell again and I see them, I see their faces around me.

There is a bright indescribable light and the world is opening up above me.

“NO!” I hear another voice join in, but I’m not listening, my eyes are focused on the sky and only the sky.

Bright white light is above and I feel myself lifting, not fast and hard this time, a gentle lift, raising me off the ground and I see something I’ve never seen before. Flashes of images, of movements in the whiteness, an indescribable something.

My mouth is hanging open and my legs unfold as I leave the ground and start floating upward with the box in hand.

“Take it,” I feel a pair of hands wrap around my waist, “but don’t take her!”

I’m not sure what she’s saying, I’m not processing it, I had to go with them, it was always meant to be. I look down, Ginger’s face was flushed and red and tear stained as she looked up at us.

I had to go.

“Please, please, please,” she was begging to someone, maybe it was me. “You can’t take her, not like this, not now.” The hands hold me firmly in place, just as I hold the ornate box aloft and see the unnamable things above me. “PLEASE.” Her voice is wretched and I’m not quite sure what she’s asking for. I had to go with them. She mouths something I can’t hear, just as the ringing increases in my ears and Ginger’s voice raises to a fever pitch.

She mouths three words I hadn’t heard in a long time. The light extinguishes just as quickly as it arrived, one second I’m being blinded and the next I’m falling to my knees gasping for air, my ears popping and body burning. “Oof,” Ginger catches me and we both ease to the forest floor, my head pounds.

I squint up into the night and hear the crickets chirp and a firefly blink, I feel loose and empty, I cringe at the deep burn in my body. I look at her, “Ginger.”

“Ssshhh,” Ginger puts my head in her lap and pets my hair, “it’s going to be alright now.” I look up at her and lift my chin, “you saved me.” My eyes go wide, “you saved my life.” Ginger pulled me closer and kisses my forehead, “we both did.” I take a deep even breath and feel a heaviness in my bones, I looked down at my hands, my fingertips look slightly charred and burnt but I don’t feel anything else. The box was gone. I just shake my head and hear distant yelling.

“We’ll have to deal with that,” I say dully and look up unseeingly into the night.

Ginger bends down over me, “in a minute,” her breath puffs against her cheek, “let’s just… be here a second longer.” I nod numbly, “are we still building that bomb shelter?” She gives out a tinkling laugh, “are you still leaving?” I give a hint of a smile up at her. “Maybe.” She lifts her eyebrows. “Then yes. I’m building, forever and ever.” I raise my hand up, “you may regret that.” Her eyes crease, “Oh, I think I’m far past that.” She leans over me one last time and our lips touch, I exhale and look up into the night sky. “Do you think they’ll be back?” She shrugs and squeezes my shoulder, “let’s not let it keep us up at night.” I laugh and turn over, “I won’t.” I touch her cheek gently, “If you’re there.” She tries to help me to my feet, “I snore.” She gives a wry grin, “so you might regret it.” I just make a soft sound and pull her close to me, “I’m not that worried.”

She whispers something in my ear and I just close my eyes and nod. “Stay with me.” I whisper back and she breathes in and smiles from ear to ear.

“Go with me.” She whispers back.

We curl up in each other, in and out, melting and rising all at once, I get to my feet. We put our back to the woods and start walking toward house, she takes my hand and doesn’t let go. I hear a distant ringing, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, we don’t look over our shoulders as we walk away and head for the road.

THE END

#wlw #original story #science fiction #sapphic #period piece #sci-fi story #FINISHED #IT'S DONE

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queseraone · 6 years

Text

Maybe One Day - Part 14

A collection of one-shots of Jay Halstead as a dad. Because we all need that in our lives. Co-written with @halsteadpd

Catch up here.

Soooo it’s been a little while since we’ve updated this. Life got in the way for both of us! But we’re back at it and have no plans to quit for a while. Hopefully you’ll stick around and continue to enjoy these

Jay and Erin’s life was thrown off-balance when their two oldest children left home. Ben was following in his father’s footsteps in the military, and Zach had recently started at Vanderbilt to major in biomedical engineering. Ben had moved out a few weeks after his eighteenth birthday, and although he had been gone for over a year, the empty feeling never left his parents. It became even more difficult when Zach got on a plane to Nashville three months earlier.

Fortunately the two youngest Halsteads were still keeping their parents on their toes. Ten-year-old Sam was always busy with travel hockey, band practice, science club, and another new activity almost every week. At fifteen, Maddie was just starting to think about what she wanted to do with her life—except plans seemed to change every week. Two weeks ago, she was sure that she was going to be a doctor like her Uncle Will and Aunt Natalie, but now she wanted to be a detective like her parents.

One Wednesday morning, Jay made his way down towards the kitchen after showering. Sam was under the weather and was still asleep in bed, while Maddie ate breakfast with Erin. Jay stopped dead in his tracks—feeling like he had been punched in the gut—as he heard the girls’ conversation.

“…and he’s really cute and sweet. I really like him Mom.” Maddie’s voice was full of excitement and Jay could just picture the smile on his baby girl’s face. “He asked me to go out with him on Friday night, can I go? Please?”

“You know I’ll need to talk about this with Dad.”

Maddie sighed dramatically at her mother’s words. “Ugh, why do you guys have to do everything together? It’s just a movie, it’s not a big deal. You know Dad’s totally going to lose his shit when he hears about this.”

“Well you’re right about that, Dad is losing his shit right now.” Jay quickly turned the corner and joined his wife and daughter in the kitchen. Maddie looked like a deer in headlights. “Dad is losing his shit big time.”

Maddie quickly looked at her mom, hoping Erin would come to her defense.

“Um, Maddie why don’t you go get your stuff from your room and finish getting ready for school? The bus will be here soon.” Erin suggested in an attempt to defuse some of the tension in the room.

“Ugh fiiiine,” Maddie’s words were punctuated by a dramatic roll of her eyes before she stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom.

“A boy?!” Jay exclaimed the second Maddie was out of sight. “Erin, she’s only fifteen! She’s just a baby! There’s no way in hell she’s going out on a date.”

“Jay, relax.” Erin walked up to her husband and placed a comforting hand on his chest.

“How am I supposed to relax when my baby girl is talking about dating?! Ben and Zach didn’t go on dates at fifteen! She’s not going, there’s no way!”

“Jay.” Erin began carefully, reaching up to hold his face in her hands, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Babe, she’s not a baby, she’s growing up whether we like it or not. Besides, it’s just a movie, I did a hell of a lot worse when I was fifteen.”

“That doesn’t exactly reassure me, Erin.”

“Well you’re gonna have to put your personal feelings aside. She’ll never come to us with anything if we straight up say no to something she really wants.”

Jay reluctantly nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always?” Erin grinned, popping up on her tiptoes to give Jay a quick kiss.

When Friday night rolled around, Maddie was buzzing with excitement. Erin had ducked out of work early to help her daughter get ready for her big date; helping with hair and makeup and giving the inevitable lecture about being safe. Jay had been out on a raid with the team all afternoon and was out in the garage, busy putting his gear away.

Around seven o’clock, Jay heard a car pull into the driveway; the sound of the car’s engine humming distracted him from cleaning his gun. When the car door opened a moment later, a teenage boy stepped out, walking toward the house—and consequently—the garage.

“You know, fifteen-year-olds can’t drive without someone with a valid driver’s license in the passenger seat.” Jay said as a way of greeting as he adjusted the holster around his thigh.

“Actually I’m sixteen. I’ll be seventeen in a few weeks.”

“Hmm.” Jay bit his lip to try to hold back the rising panic at the thought of Maddie going out with an older boy. “What’s your name?”

“Why? So you can run a background check on me or something?” Jay shot the teenager a pointed look. “Chad.”

Jay stepped closer to the boy, towering over him. “Well, Chad, is there a reason I should be running a background check on you?”

“Not yet,” Chad replied quickly, not intimidated by Jay at all. “I’m gonna go get Maddie now.”

“Watch yourself.” Jay watched Chad walk up to the front door before ringing the doorbell. He could hear Erin’s excited voice on the other side.

It wasn’t long before Maddie and Chad were walking back down the driveway hand-in-hand with matching smiles on their faces, with Erin following closely behind. Chad shot a smug look in Jay’s direction before turning towards his car.

“Maddie. Come give your old man a hug before you go.” Reluctantly, Maddie let go of Chad’s hand and walked over to where Jay was standing. “Be careful, okay?”

“Relax, Dad. It’s just a movie.” Pulling away from Jay, she made her way over to the passenger side of the car.

“Curfew’s at 7:30!”

“Jay!” Erin scolded, rolling her eyes before smiling at the teenagers, “Be back by 11. Have fun!”

“So what movie are we gonna see?” Maddie asked as she shifted her gaze from the window over to Chad.

“Actually I thought we could drop by a friend’s house. Everyone’s meeting up for a bit.”

“Okayyyyy,” Maddie dragged out the word. “As long as I’m home on time and we still see the movie I guess that’s cool.”

“Babe, Maddie has never given us any reason not to trust her.” Erin was busy cleaning up the table from dinner. Sam had gone to the basement to watch a movie. Jay was supposed to be helping Erin, but he was having a hard time focusing on anything but the idea of his baby girl out on a date.

“It’s not her I don’t trust, it’s him. I was a teenage boy once…I know what they’re after.”

“And what’s that?”

“Sex, Erin. That’s all they think about. Not to mention the attitude he gave me! Who does that kid think he is?”

“A teenage boy?”

“I don’t like him.”

“Will you ever like any boy Maddie brings around?”

“No, but I really don’t like this kid.”

“He seemed sweet. He was perfectly polite when he came to the door.”

Jay scoffed. “He was a total asshole out in the garage.”

“Babe, you need to relax.”

“No, I need to ping their phones and figure out where they are.”

“And what good would that do?”

“Then I can tail them.” Jay said, snapping his fingers. “I can do it from my computer upstairs.”

Erin sighed, rolling her eyes at her husband for what was probably the hundredth time that evening. “No, you need to focus on something else. Go downstairs and watch that movie with Sam, Maddie will be home in a couple of hours. Everything will be fine.”

“Fine.” Jay grumbled as he left the kitchen and made his way down to the basement. “If she isn’t home by exactly eleven she’s never allowed out of this house again. And Chad—don’t even get me started. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I cleaned my rifle earlier.”

“Hey Chad, are we leaving soon?” Maddie asked from her perch on the edge of the couch. “If we’re gonna make a movie tonight we really gotta get going…”

Chad ignored her questions, instead pushing a joint in her face. “Here take a puff.”

“Um. N-no. I’m good, thanks. Can you just take me home?”

“I’m too drunk, you should have a drink? You’re so tense.” Chad grabbed a beer and shoved the bottle towards Maddie’s chest. “It’s good, trust me.”

“I-I think I’m just gonna go home.” Maddie quickly rose from the couch and walked out the front door. She had no idea where she was, so she knew there was no way she could walk home, especially alone. When she switched on her phone screen, she noticed that it was even later than she thought—it was already 10:30, close to curfew.

“Maddie!” Chad’s slurred voice broke her out of her trance and when she looked towards the front door, she noticed him doubled over, throwing up in a bush. “Where ya going? Come back!”

“I’m going home, Chad.” Quickly pressing a number on her speed dial, Maddie walked toward the corner and sat down on the curb.

“Hello? Maddie, is everything okay?”

Maddie’s voice shook, “N-no, can you come get me?”

“Okay I’m coming, which movie theatre are you at?”

“Um, I’m at someone’s house. I’m sitting on the corner of North Dearborn and West Burton.”

“Sit tight, I’m on my way, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

Twenty minutes later, Jay saw his daughter huddled up on the curb and screeched the SUV to a stop. “Maddie! What happened?” He exclaimed as he jumped out of the vehicle.

At the sight of her father, Maddie broke down, flinging herself into his arms as she cried.

Jay held Maddie close, running his hand through her hair as she bawled against his chest, his heart breaking for her. “Shhh, let’s get you in the car, okay?” He opened the door and ushered Maddie into the passenger seat. “I’m going in there. I’ll be right back.”

Maddie shook her head, reaching out to stop him. “No Dad, I just want to go home, please?”

Jay sighed. As much as he wanted to go inside and give Chad a piece of his mind, he couldn’t say no to his little girl, especially when she was so upset. “Okay… okay, let’s go home.”

They drove the first few blocks in silence. Jay glanced over at Maddie every few seconds, but her gaze remained focused out the passenger window.

“Hey Mads—why do chicken coops only have two doors?”

Maddie turned toward Jay, a look of confusion on her face. “What? I don’t know?”

“Because if they had four it would be a chicken sedan.” Despite the circumstances, Jay’s face split into a wide grin. Maddie rolled her eyes—she was certainly her mother’s daughter—but Jay noticed a small smile pulling at her lips. “Oh c’mon that was funny and you know it.”

“It wasn’t that funny.”

“Oh really? Okay how about this—if prisoners could take their own mug shots, they’d be called cellfies. Get it? Because they’re in cells! It’s like a selfie but in a prison cell!”

Maddie looked at her father with wide eyes. “Okay, the first one was better, that wasn’t funny at all.”

“Well that smile on your face tells me otherwise.” Jay chuckled. They fell silent again for a moment until Jay spoke. “So, uh, what happened back there?”

“Chad was a dick.” Maddie hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I don’t know Dad, I guess you were right. I’m not ready for this whole dating thing after all.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know how excited you were, I hate that your special night ended like this. But you’re wrong. As much as it pains me to admit, you are absolutely ready to date. Chad was just… he wasn’t the right guy.”

“You really think so?”

“Oh definitely. It just takes time. You’re an amazing girl Maddie Halstead, your mom and I are so proud of you.”

“Thanks Dad. It just seems like it’s gonna take forever to find the right guy.”

“Well, look at your mom and me—it took us a while to find each other.”

“So it’s gonna take me that long to find someone? You guys were so old!”

“Hey!” Jay feigned offense as he pulled the SUV into the driveway. He turned off the vehicle and turned to face Maddie. “Maddie I’m not saying that, I’m just saying that you just shouldn’t rush it. Be patient. It’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” Maddie shrugged.

Jay waited for Maddie to walk around the SUV, his arm held out to her. The moment she reached his side, Jay wrapped his arm around his daughter and pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “I love you so much kiddo. I promise everything will work out.”

“I love you too, Dad. Thanks for everything.”

“Of course. You call me, I’m there, no matter what. No matter how old you get you’ll always be my little girl.” Jay hugged Maddie tighter and kissed her forehead. “Okay it’s late, let’s get you to bed.”

#writing: maybe one day #maybe one day #daddy jay #queseraone #halsteadpd #linstead fanfiction #linstead #jay halstead #erin lindsay #chicago pd #cpd fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction #fluff #linstead au #au but also not au because this will happen #erin x jay #jay x erin

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smrwine · 7 years

Note

ooohhhh, what about a pirate Harry and a Prince Louis drabble? :)))

Please bear with me on my limited knowledge of piracy.

“When she docks, I am not to be sent for, aye?” Harry made himself clear in the dead of the night. Familiar waves carrying his battered ship across the Atlantic. Crisp autumn air blown through the sails and the saltwater of his curls. It was nearly time to turn in for the night, and let his first mate take over the reigns. “It will take me three days to get into town, and by then my time is extremely limited. I trust that you and the lads will hold down the ship until I arrive back.”

“Aye.” his second in command nodded. Chill zinging up the tattooed lines of his arms.

Harry peered over the edge of the ship. Blue moonlight gleaming against the slope of his cheek and paling in comparison to the blue eyes of his lover. So close within reach, yet so far. Docking at the harbor by morning, and traveling to his love in the night by foot. The stone walls of the palace stood as a barrier, but never a threat. Not to Harry.

“Who's the lucky lass?” Harry heard between the whistles of the wind from his right.

Lass. Harry stood tense and unblinking, slight smirk pulling across his face. He could so easily play into it. Describe Louis exactly how he is with his chocolate locks, and heaven sent smile. Could describe his soft skin and royal lips, and never mention the hard line of his cock or the hair that dusted his cheeks. His mate would never suspect a thing and Harry would rid himself of invasive questions. But he wouldn't. He refused. Would never dare speak Louis’ name in the form of a lie.

“If I told you, I would have to take from you the only leg you have left to stand on.” Harry quietly threatened. Skin prickling at the words as dark as night. “Relay my requests to the crew and do get us home by sunrise, aye? Fair winds to you.”

Harry left his mate with a pat on the back and a two fingered salute. Rubies and pearls flashing against his filthy knuckles and leather boots squeaking against the freshly scrubbed floors. The threadbare cotton of Harry’s shirt stuck to his skin as he traveled down the stairs to the Captain’s quarters. His skin itching to be rubbed clean, and doused with the fresh scent of lilac. Only two more slumbers if everything went according to plan, and Harry would need to wash up to be in the presence of royalty.

Freshly bathed and dressed in his finest attire, Harry found himself tiptoeing through the manicured roots of the Palace’s garden. Golden buttons of his petticoat hanging by a thread and the red of the fabric matching the blood stains on his white breeches. He cringed at the sight of it all. Wished he was able to stand in front of the Prince with pristine trousers with frills and lace. Louis never did mind the stubborn stains of his unkempt clothing. Only ever really cared that he returned to him in one piece.

Harry slipped his hand into the pocket of his coat, rattling the pebbles he collected along the way. He knelt to the ground, shielding himself from the light of surrounding lanterns, and checked to be sure no guards were within sight. Once in the clear, he launched a pebble against the windowpane he knew to be Louis’. Tossing one little stone after another to capture the attention of the sleeping Prince. A gesture he's pulled many times before. Each proven successful.

A soft glow danced behind the curtain of the glass. Fabric slowly being pushed aside and revealing the familiar outline of the Prince himself. Harry smiled up at him, throwing his hands up in a wave, and desperately attempted to gain his attention. Louis peeked down at him, squinting through the darkness, and moving to unlatch the window. Soft and sleep ruffled; face illuminated beside the light of a candle. The vision every marauder at sea wished to return to.

“Harry?” Louis called through the sleep in his voice.

“Hello, little love.” Harry spoke carefully as to not draw attention from anyone else. “Would you mind some company this evening?”

His smile beamed in the thick of the dusk. Teeth prettier than every last pearl Harry has taken from the sea. Louis took a cautious look from his left to his right, before exaggeratedly waving him over. Harry blindly trusted him. Running quickly to his only boy, and keeping still within the shadows. Harry watched for the drop of a rope, thrown down by Louis’ careful hands. The texture rough and every last bit of his energy drained. He took a deep breath and calmed himself before moving to pull his body weight up the short distance to the window.

Louis kept a lookout as Harry muscled his way upward. Kicking himself up the building and pushing through the burn in his arms. He huffed and cursed as he climbed one arms length at a time. Matted curls blowing into his eyes as he gripped onto the ledge of with windowpane.

“Here,” Louis reached out his hand. “You're nearly there, that's it.”

Harry grunted lowly as he took Louis by the hand and pulled the upper half of his body through the opening. Legs flailing and body working it's way into the palace, Harry stumbled through the window, nearly taking the Prince down with him.

“Fuck—fuck—are you alright? My apologies, darling.” Harry whispered as he gripped onto Louis for balance.

“I'm alright. I’m perfect.”

The Prince peered up at him through sincere eyes. Bluer than every shade of all the seven seas and lashes lining them with with exquisite darkness. Harry cupped his face between the palms of his criminal hands.

“Hello, your highness.” Harry whispered though a smile.

“Hello, my sailor.” Louis laughed contagiously. Able to get Harry to crack a smile.

“You know m’not a sailor, darling. I'm far less dangerous than those lads.”

“And I'm not your highness. I'm Louis, or darling, or any other endearment that doesn’t pin me to this life. We’ve established this long ago. I don't want to be royalty around you, I just want to be normal.”

“You want to be normal with a pirate as your lover?” Harry thumbed at the light dusting of hair against his cheek. So soft and so sweet. “Royalty is in your blood just as looting is in mine.”

“But you're more than that, Harry, just as I am. And I do not wish to discuss this any further when I've gone so long without your lips.”

“You've missed them haven’t you, your highness? Missed how you can't reach them out at sea nor right in front of you?”

“I'll have you bloody imprisoned.”

“Yeah? Would you at least kiss me first? Want you to be the last taste on my lips before you lock me aw—”

Louis pushed their faces together. Sleep warm lips meeting against icily chapped ones. The scruff of his lip brushing against Harry's skin, and driving him mad with desire. He’d never kissed another bloke like this. Never dreamt of craving the love from another man let alone the heir to his country’s throne. Destiny toyed with him in a sick way, but if she brought him to Louis, he didn't mind being a pawn in her twisted games.

“Oh, Harry,” Louis breathed against Harry’s desperate lips. Gripping the nape of Harry’s hair and throwing his neck back in gentle pleasure. “Your lips feel like heaven against me. Please don't stop.”

Harry growled at his demand. Never the one to follow the laws but dropping to his knees to heed orders from his Prince. He dipped to grip the back of Louis’ legs and wrap them around him. Walking them over to the massive mattress in the room and all the while never breaking their kiss. Louis’ gown bunched at his waist. Bare bum brushing against the threadbare fabric of Harry’s breeches.

“Harry,” Louis addressed just as Harry laid him against the luxurious sheets. “Remember when you looted that Spanish ship? And you brought to me a single decaying rose that you found in the heat of all the madness.”

“I do, love.” Harry gently moved Louis’ fringe from his eyes. “And I'd do it again. I'd rid Spain of all its roses and fill my ship with them. Have barrels overflowing with flowers the same shade as your lips. All for you.”

Any previous thought Louis had kneeled to the sound of his sweet words. Smile spreading across his face and blush staining his cheeks in the dim candle light. Harry winked. Lowly chuckling at the way Louis squirmed beneath him.

“Lift your gown, little prince. Want to see what life at sea deprives me of.”

Louis smirked up at him. Clenching the thin fabric between his dainty hands and and pulling ever so slowly.

“You wouldn't have to be deprived if you took me with you.” Louis lifted the hem of his gown over his knees and up to his mid thigh. Stopping just as he began to speak again. “Could have me at any hour of the day. Do whatever you want with me in the quarters of your ship.”

“It sounds tempting,” Harry licked his lips and flickered his eyes up towards Louis’. “But everyone pulls their weight on board, everyone works until they’re dog tired, and that would include you, my prince. And either way, I would never allow you to come along with me. It's far too dangerous and you have a Kingdom to tend to.”

“I only want to tend to you.” Louis whined as he raised his gown just a bit higher. “And you wouldn't let anything happen to me, right? No other pirate would dare lay a finger on me with you around.”

Harry chewed his lip as the hem of the gown caught on the outline of his cock. Teasing Harry by not moving any higher but dragging it back and forth against his bits.

“Of course—I—I would protect you, yes. Fuck. Do you have any oil, my prince?” Harry asked desperately.

“I do.” Louis nodded. “Tell me you'll take me with you and I'll give it up.”

“No, Louis, Christ. Just tell me where it is.”

“Say you'll take me. Free me from these walls of hell.”

“I won't, Louis. I won't. It's too dangerous for you out there, especially if anyone found out you were a prince.”

“No one would ever know, Harry. I'll work, I'll pull my weight, I just can't live the rest of my life inside this palace with my fucking father. Please.”

“Lou—”

“Please, Harry. Just say we’ll go. Just say you'll give me freedom out at sea. Please.”

Louis looked up at him pleadingly. Desperation shining in the light of his eyes. Harry was aware of how much he hated life here. How living behind the sheltered walls kept him imprisoned in a place without love. Always reminded Harry of how desperately he wanted another life. A life where he was free of his morbidly awful father and the expectations of his footsteps. The king was unrelenting, hard, and ruthless, and was everything Louis was not. It was so difficult to deny him when this was all Louis ever asked for.

“I’ll give you freedom,” someday, went unsaid. “We’ll leave London behind and I’ll take you somewhere safe. Somewhere where no one knows of our pasts, and we’ll live off the riches we take for ourselves.”

“Promise me, Harry.” Louis begged. “Promise.”

“I promise.” Harry reached for his hand, grasping it in his hold, and pressing a kiss to his non battered knuckles. “M’nothing if not a man of my word, and you have it.”

Louis smiled up at him. Distress leaving the lines of his face and longing replacing them.

“The oil vial is right on my bedside, sailor.” Louis giggled as Harry squeezed tightly against his hand. “Give these sheets a memorable last go before you take me away.”

“Always what the little Prince wants, aye? Royally spoilt and it shows.”

“Won’t get away with that on the ship will I?” Louis teased as Harry reached for the vial. “But as soon as I don’t get my way I can just pout to you, hmm? You’ll always give me what I want.”

Harry was about to object when suddenly Louis felt the need to fully reveal himself. Gown rolled up over his head and quickly being tossed to the ground. His gorgeous body filling the boroughs of Harry’s mind. The colour of his nipples down to his gentle dusting of body hair. His smell. His shape. The colour of his candle lit skin. All the little details Harry was so bloody drawn to.

“Make love to me in your rubies and pearls.”

One swift motion after another Harry was ridding himself from his clothing. Boots flying across the expanse of the room and ruffled shirt nearly being torn from his chest. Louis’ hands were all over him. Carding through the ringlets of his hair and feeling the inked muscles of his arms. Harry stripped from his breeches and leaned back to give Louis a proper look at him. Pearl necklace hanging down his torso and ruby gems dripping from the length of his fingers.

Louis looked him over in awe. Spreading his thighs wide and pulling Harry closer by the chain of his neck. They kissed for what seemed like hours. Tongues swiping, lips smacking, and taste of each other mingling together effortlessly. Harry groaned into his mouth. Blindly spilling the oil against his fingers and letting the excess drip against his rings.

Harry pulled back breathlessly. Watching the twitch of Louis’ hips as he brushed his soaked finger between the crease of his cheeks. The heat of his skin was alluring, and so very tempting to push into, but Harry took his time. Slowly circling the rim of Louis’ arse and watching his eyes for every reaction. Louis was boneless and lax. Eyes fluttered shut and legs spreading against the soft silk sheets. Every little sigh burning into Harry’s memory. The sweetest sound he’ll ever hear. One careful move forward and Harry was in. His finger gently pumping in and out and stretching him at a comfortable pace. Louis writhed against the oil stained sheets. Skin of his rim brushing against the cool silver of Harry’s ruby ring.

“Ohh, Harry,” Louis exhaled. “Feels so good, I can’t wait to have this every night.”

Harry stayed silent. Eyes focused on the contours of Louis’ face and looking down to watch him clench around him. Another finger slipped against the rim carefully. Slightly prodding its way past the opening and working gently into his velvet walls. Harry had no idea how he went so long without this. How he wanked to only memories when they pale in comparison to the real thing.

“Love how you feel, darling.” Harry scissored his fingers open, stretching Louis gently, and hardening at the view. “Love how you preen. Love the way my fingers fit inside of you, and I love that you take them so well even with my rings.”

Louis stared back with a blissful smile. “Don't be cocky, love. I see you blush when you look at me.”

“How could I not?” Harry asked through a curl of his fingers. “You're perfection personified, and I can't believe you're mine.”

“Mmm,” Louis moaned. “And you didn't even have to steal me or my heart away. I was yours all along.”

Harry groaned as he leaned forward to attach their lips. Louis’ rose coloured mouth too tempting not to give into. Harry curled his fingers forward, swallowing every last whine from the Prince beneath him. Adding another oily finger beside his two others. Louis broke from the kiss to exhale his pleasure. Harry kissed his way down the expanse of his unblemished and pristinely cleaned skin. He sucked a mark against the curve of Louis’ peck, biting the skin, and flicking his tongue down to his sensitive nipples.

Harry slipped a fourth finger in easily as Louis threw his head back with a cry. Both of them extremely fortunate for the abundance of palace halls and the royals being nowhere near them. Louis moaned and yelled unabashedly as Harry opened him thoroughly. Letting the clench of his arse suffocate his fingers and slowly relax to make room for more.

“You can't be this loud on the ship, love. Can't have the lads hearing the unspeakable things I do to you.”

Harry curled his hand forward. Pulling another yelp from Louis’ mouth and using his thumb to tease at the skin of his perineum. The Prince so beautiful and pliant. His body so relaxed and ready. Harry wished he had more time for this part. Feeling Louis on the tip of his fingers and watching his eyes roll back in pleasure. It was something he missed dearly, and something that never lasted long enough when put in front of him.

“Fuck me.” Vulgarity slipped so easily past Louis’ royal mouth. “Fuck me into the sunrise.”

“As you wish, your highness.” Harry smirked as he grabbed for the oil and messily drizzled it over the line of his cock. “Lie down on your side.”

Louis watched Harry’s hand for a second. Evenly spreading a coat of oil and wiping the excess against the silk of the sheets. Harry raised a brow, silently instructing him to turn on his side. Louis’ bedroom eyes met his. Lazily rolling over and caressing a teasing hand over the curve of his arse. Fuck, he was so incredibly gorgeous.

Harry crawled up behind him. Dipping down to leave Louis with one last gentle kiss before he fucked him hard. Harry wrapped an arm around Louis’ chest, pulling him closer, and using his other to lift his leg. Their sweat sheened bodies stuck together as Harry carefully slipped his cock in. Heat of Louis’ hole encompassing his head and clenching tightly around him. It was maddening. No other feeling in the world compared.

Harry thrust forward in small increments. Louis gasped softly. Taking Harry in completely and shuddering at the feeling of being full. His clenching heat was intoxicating. Golden skin of his back shimmering and restless hands digging into the fabric of his sheets. Harry tightened his grip on the curve of Louis’ thigh, lifting it just a bit higher, and pushing his cock in steadily. Both of them reduced to moans and desperate rhythms.

“Harder, Harry.”

With a frenzied thrust of his hips, Harry fucked forward. Carefully dropping Louis’ leg and rolling over on top of him. Louis’ trembling whines muffled by the silk of his pillows and back arching to compensate the new position. Harry’s hands gripping at the bare arse of his lover. Truly the only priceless treasure he’d ever have within his hold.

Harry thrust fast, and hard, and just a bit messy. The only way he knew Louis liked it. Pulling breathless moans and unstoppable waves of pleasure from the both of them. Hitting Louis’ favourite spot and basking in the knowledge that no one else could ever have Louis this way. The feeling of being inside him was unparalleled. They rocked together like a ship and the sea. Calm and steady, yet unpredictable and wavering.

Harry sucked a mark into the slope of Louis’ shoulder as he buried himself in deep and fucked the prince until he was quivering and breathless. Knees buckling and arms shaking they both came on a cry of each other’s names, their white sticky mess staining the silk of his sheets. Harry pulled out slowly and cleaned them up with the fabric of Louis’ discarded gown. Louis fell into Harry’s open arms, wrapping them around his waist and allowing each other to catch their breath whilst Harry whispered the sweetest words into the shell of his ear. Sleep, my love. Sleep for now.

Harry watched as his boy fell into a deep slumber. Kissing his sweaty temple gently and making sure his breathing was low and even. Harry stored in his memory the way his lashes cast shadows upon his rosy cheeks. The way his kiss bitten lips parted ever so slightly on every other exhale of breath. He was so stunning. Too pure. Too clean and wholesome for the life Harry lived, and the person Harry was outside of this realm. He would take Louis away someday. He would. But as of right now, Harry still had bones to pick and battles to fight. It wouldn’t be fair to Louis, and he had to make that decision on his own.

Carefully he slipped from the bed and tiptoed over to his unworthy clothing. Rags and tattered breeches fitting back onto his body as the prince remained sleeping. It was so hard leaving him behind. Nothing could ever possibly make this part any easier. Harry walked over toward him on bare feet. Kneeling by his bed side and pressing his gentle lips to the crown of Louis’ head. Ruby ring catching the light of the rapidly melting candle and sparking an idea in Harry’s brain. With a huff, he blew out the flame, and left his favorite possession behind for his lover. Slipping easily off his finger and loosely fitting around the width of Louis’ own. He prayed the message would be clear.

“You’re the only love I’ll ever know.” Harry whispered through trembling lips. “I’ll come back for you, my prince. I promise.”

#........runs and hides #pirate(?) au #I wonder if I'll make this a thing #this is so long #asks #Anonymous

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poeticandvaguelysweet · 7 years

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Prompt #172 - After Work

ANON: Owen sends Claire extremely dirty texts KNOWING she’s in a late night meeting

ANON: Can you write about Claire riding Owen’s face. Pretty please.

You. Guys. Will. Kill. Me.

I love it. A little.

AO3 - To Build a Home

AFTER WORK

She was watching the sun set over the city from the high rise view of her office building. The end of month financials were almost her favourite and her least liked meetings under her array of compulsory tasks. The only reason why she enjoyed it had everything to do with the view.

Claire watched the sky split into a multitude of colours until her phone buzzed in her hand, drawing her attention away for a split second so she could check the notification. It had to be Owen, she expected it to be him, letting her know he was heading home from the construction site they were calling their dream property. He was back at their small rental, text complaining that it was strange to find her not there but that he wouldn’t wait for her to get home to eat. There was no use, she was set to be stuck for another three hours and Owen wasn’t the kind of guy who could keep himself awake for that long.

She shot back a reply, promising to be home no later than nine and quiet when she slipped in the door for him. He told her not to worry, unbothered if she woke him so long as he knew she was home safe and sound.

Staff started to trickle in, just as her assistant began setting up a small tea and coffee station, double checking with Claire if they would be taking a dinner order within the hour or telling staff to fend for themselves. They catered, adding to the appeal to staying back at the office to ensure all numbers had be processed correctly and to go over where they went wrong for the month in addition to perspectives for the next four weeks. Claire was just glad she wasn’t the one giving the run down, delegating the task to several different heads of department. It was a tactic to ensure everyone was engaged, different speakers but also putting the responsibility on the heads of her employees.

They weren’t ten minutes in when her phone flashed, text preview appearing on the screen in front of her, accompanying Owen’s name.

I just got out of the shower. She didn’t think anything of it, humming quietly to herself as she ignored the message, swiping it off her screen with a swift flick of her wrist. You’re wearing that green set to work, aren’t you? Either he had seen her put it on that morning or noticed it was missing from the dedicated section in their closet. Naughty girl. He was shooting messages despite Claire’s lack of response, the woman leaning forward to unlock her phone, leaving the chat open on her knee and out of sight. She was curious about how far he would take it despite the warmth that was already trailing up her spine.

Owen knew where she was and what she was doing. Nevertheless, he gave her access to his inner thoughts. I want to be in you right now. I want to feel you around me, over me, on me. Warm. Wet. Begging.

She locked her phone again, pushing the device into her handbag as she felt the flush burn across her cheeks, mind playing filthy images of Owen laid out on their bed, one hand lazily stroking his dick while the other typed out those messages, the cocky grin on his face caught between ecstasy and amusement.

Claire felt her pulse jump all night, steadying to a calm beat before her mind wandered again drifting back to Owen’s messages and where he was currently. She knew without a doubt he’d have passed out on the couch in sweats, a beer in his hand, a box of pizza on the coffee table. By the time she gets home he will have cleaned and moved. It was a rare afternoon that Claire wasn’t itching to get out of meetings, no matter the text messages on her phone. Her thighs were itching for his skin and the graze of his rough stubble, she wanted him hot and hard against her; immediately.

The second they were released Claire was out the door, not hesitating to mingle or double check her assistant’s questions. Instead, Claire calmly made a run for it, breaking free to the parking garage without having anyone stop her to waste some time. Late night meetings were hard before they started no one wanted to be there and after they ended no one could bring themselves to tear away from the group that huddled in their business clothes, bellies full with a meal and hands warm with hot beverages. Claire had fallen prey to the appeal, the allure of the city twinkled beneath them, happy to spend an extra hour getting to know her co-workers while her partner snoozed, sleep disrupted, unable to settle until she was home.

Their apartment building was dark when she pulled up, parking on the street out of ease rather than dealing with squeezing into her underground space. Her heels were harsh on the concrete landing, unforgiving on sleeping ears as she tried to step carefully, tension building in her gut. The door unlocked soundlessly, allowing Claire to slip inside and take her shoes off without having Owen’s bulk of a shadow meet her in the doorway. A hand on the wall allowed Claire to securely find her way to the bedroom, streetlight flooding through the blinds in a blue glow, enough for Claire to make out every dark shape in the room.

Owen was out cold, lying on his back, one hand on his chest, legs sprawled this way and that on top of the covers. She had been right in her earlier daydreams, Owen clad in his favourite grey sweatpants and nothing else. Claire took one look at him before a grin grew across her cheeks, sweet revenge playing in her mind. He was a light sleeper, there was a chance Owen would wake before she got close enough but his reaction was worth the risk. Teetering on one leg at the end of the bed, Claire tried to steady her balance as she peeled one stocking off and then the other, releasing them from her suspenders before she hiked up her skirt a few inches and tiptoed towards his side of the bed. Claire steadied herself for a second watching the space in the dark as she planned her move. With a little leverage from the bedhead, Claire managed to hoist herself up, throwing one leg over Owen’s shoulders while the other remained perched on the bed’s frame. She lowered herself slowly, sigh slight joy as she felt Owen’s hands slide up the backs of her thighs.

‘Hey, babe.’ She grinned, voice soft, lulling him out of the sleep he had been in. His eyes were closed, smile climbing his lips as she settled, crotch over his face, the fabric of her skirt pulling tightly over her hips as she spread her knees to accommodate the girth of his shoulders. ‘What were you thinking, sending me messages like that at work?’ The fingers of one hand slid into his hair, tugging softly as he grunted.

Owen hummed, mouth in contact with her lace covered centre. The exact same green fabric he had speculated had been gone before. She could hear the happy tones at the end of his hum, pleased and surprised as his fingers dug into her thighs, his tongue sliding across her tentatively at first. Claire shifted her weight, trying to pull herself off him, but Owen wouldn’t let her go. Instead, he buried himself against her nudging her underwear aside to have full access to her skin.

‘I was thinkin’, I hope she comes home soon so I can fuck her.’

Claire felt something in her spine give way as all the air rushed out of her lungs in a surprised exhale. Owen, beneath her, rolled her clit between his teeth, causing Claire to jump at the sensation. She wanted to move, to climb off him, her joke over. He could feel it in the way her thighs tensed, not in pleasure, but holding her weight from actually sitting on him. Owen wasn’t going to let her go that easily. His hands kept hold of her thighs, massaging the muscle there, coaxing her into letting go as she settled on his face mouth nestled perfectly between her thighs as the scratch of his stubble teased her skin.

He hummed against her, thick rumble vibrating against her as Claire shifted her hips impatient and needy, three hours of sexual tension bubbling in her stomach with the eager anticipation of release. Owen would find the limits of her oblivion with his tongue alone, coaxing bliss from within her and soothing her soul. That man oozed sex appeal and with it came great talent that left Claire’s eyes rolling into the back of her head without having to touch her. It was early months in their relationship and yet, he had awoken something within her, a need Claire never prioritised until now.

‘Oh shit.’ She stuttered, body jolting, Owen nipping at her sensitive skin, teeth, lips tongue. He was all over her, his mouth and hands claiming the lower half of her body, holding her there, catching every sensation and setting all her nerves on fire.

She arched her back, hands slipping from his hair to find support on his stomach, fingers barely touching him as she let herself relax into the feeling. Fully clothed, Claire felt bare to the world, head thrown back, feeling her hair dancing against her arms as she watched the ceiling through half closed eyes. She could do away with anything if it meant keeping this feeling, Owen warm around her, strong, supportive, hell bent on finding her release but taking his time in doing so. He knew how to play her like a harp; plucking at the right strings, masterfully taught.

He surrendered a hand from it’s flexing hold on her hip, sliding it up the curve of her spine, counting each bone on its climb. His fingers slotted between her ribs, fitting perfectly as he held her up. She didn’t so much as feel his other hand leave her, but noticed his concentration was drawn for a few second before returning with gusto.

Owen had untangled his hands from her thighs, letting the one that wasn’t holding her up, snake beneath the elastic of his slacks. His hips jerked, muscles in his stomach moving under Claire’s fingers. ‘You had your turn.’ She swatted for his hand, trying to sound angry as her head swam. She was feeling selfish, wanted his attention one-hundred-and-ten per cent on her body and not on his dick. Owen caught her wrist, his arm in a better position to manipulate her movements as he twisted her hand and replaced his grip with hers, guiding tight tugs up his shaft before Claire took control, promising with a consistent rhythm that she wouldn’t let go.

She hated the way he grinned; cocky, too confident. It was always built on a slow crawl, creeping across his face like the drawl of his accent. With that smile, he was always laid back, the funny guy, all knowing and all empowered. He needed nothing but simple joy on his lips. She loved that smile. Like he knew her inner secrets, every part of her clockwork laid out in the sun, perfectly examined before he put her back together again. Claire Dearing both loved and hated the feel of his self-congratulatory grin against the inside of her shaking thighs. It felt as though he knew when she was on the brink before Claire’s body was able to share the message with her mind. He always knew, grin growing as her thighs shook, body trembling, breath barely making it in and out of her lungs as her head span with the lack of oxygen.

Sex was an enjoyable sport, but Owen enjoyed himself a little too much, his glee caught in the lines of his face and the eager movements of his tongue lapping at her greedily like he was never going to be given the opportunity again.

Claire broke, somewhere between cursing his name and sitting up to lock her fingers in his hair. He was chuckling, the sound tactile as she fell apart, her fingers pulling tighter just for his humour.

Owen flipped them easily, his arms wound around her back as he used pure strength to move her without either of them getting hurt. He kissed the inside of her thigh softly before crawling up her body, one hand shoving at the waistband of his slacks as he kicked them off, Claire still trying to catch her breath. ‘We need to make a habit of this.’ He chuckled, an easy grin on his lips as he kissed her fondly.

She arched a brow, hand lazily pushing through his hair as she watched Owen tackle the buttons on her blouse. ‘What? Me trying to smother you?’

‘Oh, that’s what you were tryin’ to do?’ His smirk widened, her shirt open, porcelain skin wrapped in emerald green on display. Claire whacked him on the arm, eyes closed, desperate to catch her breath. ’I knew you had this on.’ He muttered to himself, kissing each breast before he yanked at her skirt, pulling it off and tossing it to the floor. ‘I’m just sayin’ if you wanna come home from those meetin’s and sit on my face while I’m sleepin’. I’m not gonna complain.’

‘Of course, you won’t.’ Claire smirked, watching him place calculated kisses on her stomach. ‘There’s no fun in knowing it’s going to happen.’ She teased, eyes caught on his fingers flexing at her hips. He slid his hands under her ass, squeezing the flesh there before he yanked her forward, sliding the woman further down the bed, their hips pressed together.

‘You’re no fun.’ Owen pouted, hand leaving her backside only to return to it with a swift smack. His pout was deep, playful and teasing as he leant down to kiss her frown away. She could give him no fun if he really wanted but there was no way Claire could avoid Owen’s playful moods. Turning him down would only cause the man to pout like a puppy and it really didn’t suit him.

She only winked at him, a smirk growing across her cheeks as she rolled under his hold, leaving her lace clad ass in his face as she wiggled it at him. Satisfaction pooled in her belly at the sound of his growl. Who was he calling no fun?

#clawen #despite the odds #jurassic world #claire dearing #owen grady #to build a home

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smkkbert · 7 years

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To make you feel my love (3/10)

Cover with the help of @pr0fessi0nal-fangurl and an edit by @candykizzes24 Also special thanks to @cainc3 for editing the story!

- Third and last installment of the There goes my life Series -

Summary: One year after the Gambit went down, the incredible happens: Oliver is found alive and brought back to Starling City. All he wants is getting back to Felicity and Madeleine. Though Felicity welcomes him back with her arms wide open, Oliver struggles to find his place in the family. It seems like his place – at least in Mae’s heart – is already taken. And it doesn’t help that it’s his best friend Tommy who seems to have taken it.

Rating: Teen

Previous chapters: 1 2

Three hours after waking up Oliver gave up trying to chase more sleep. With a deep sigh, he turned onto his back, pushing an arm under his head. He pressed the side of the pillow to his nose inhaling a deep breath. He smiled, smelling the scent of Felicity on the fabric. It had helped him sleep much better than in the hospital even if he was still far from sleeping well.

It was mostly his thoughts that kept him from catching the rest he needed and even craved. While during the nights in Hong Kong he had been kept awake by the excitement of finally going home again, the first night back in Starling had been filled with nervousness about seeing Felicity again. Having been so close to seeing her again and yet not being able to actually see her had brought missing her to a whole new level. It was like when you were hungry for sweets and there was a plate full of chocolate right in front of your nose, but you couldn’t touch it. Actually, missing Felicity had been even worse.

Oliver pressed his lips together and shot a look at the clock on his nightstand. It was almost eight, so if Felicity hadn’t gotten up already, she would have to do so soon to wake Mae. Smiling, he pushed the blanket aside, slipped into some sweatpants and a shirt and tiptoed down the hallway to where Felicity was sleeping. He considered knocking, but he figured since he couldn’t hear anything from behind the closed door that she was probably still asleep.

He opened the door and sneaked a peek inside. When he saw Felicity still sleeping soundly, lying across the mattress with her legs entangled with the blanket, he smiled and quickly pushed himself into the room, closing the door behind him. He took in a deep breath, trying to keep a hold on his emotions at seeing her so peaceful, at seeing her again at all really because a part of him had still trouble believing it. Her soft snoring made lightly chuckle as he approached her slowly.

He considered kneeling down on the floor beside her, but he figured that she wouldn’t mind if he just joined her bed, so he climbed onto the bed next to her. He rolled onto his side and propped his head up onto his hand. He watched her for a long moment before he stroked a strand of her hair out of her face, revealing the small crease between her eyebrows. Oliver reached out his hand hesitantly, moving the tip of his forefinger against this small sign that maybe she wasn’t as peaceful as he had thought he was.

When a smile spread on Felicity’s face at his gentle touch, Oliver felt himself being infected by it immediately and his own face brightened up with a smile, too. He lowered his face to the pillow and rubbed his nose against hers. It wasn’t long until Felicity scooted closer to him, snuggling against him. Oliver wrapped his arms around her body, holding her tight as he closed his eyes. This was part of what he had wanted for a year, just lying next to Felicity and watching her sleep. He could feel her breath against his collarbone and her heartbeat against his ribs.

“You can’t be here,” Felicity whispered eventually, not opening her eyes.

Oliver frowned slightly. “Why?”

“Because it’s not fair,” she replied, moving impossibly closer to him. She pressed her nose against his skin and breathed him in. “Because I will open my eyes and you won’t be here anymore.”

Oliver swallowed, tightening his arms around Felicity. He felt tears welling in his eyes and had to take a deep breath to keep them from falling. When Felicity had cried quietly during dinner last night, shedding a tear every once in awhile and wiping it away for nobody to see, he had let her try to hide it until Mae had noticed. He had seen that she must have suffered from his absence, but this, knowing she must have dreamed of him and woken up to the nightmare of her reality every time, had to be a lot worse.

Slowly rolling Felicity over, so she was lying on her back, he rested himself on top of her and kissed her lips gently, morning breath be damned! It took her a moment, but eventually Felicity responded to the kiss, seeking more by opening his lips to the touch of her tongue. She detangled her legs from her blanket to wrap them around his hips loosely while her fingers were starting to stroke through his short hair. When he broke the kiss, she was chasing his lips, but Oliver kept right out of her reach, just nuzzling her nose.

“Felicity, open your eyes,” he whispered. “Open your eyes and trust me that I will still be here when you do.”

There was a pained frown on her face. Oliver stroked a hand over her forehead before he took one of her hands from his back and put it to his chest, right over his heart. She took in a hissing breath, squeezing her eyes shut firmly, before she opened her eyes.

“Hi,” she said, looking at him with confusion like she still wasn’t trusting her eyes.

Oliver was sure it would take a while before she could wake up and not be confused about him really being there, just like it would take a while until he wouldn’t wake up in panic, thinking he had to immediately get up to fight for his life. He lowered his head and gently kissed her lips.

“Hey,” he whispered then, touching her forehead with his.

Felicity took in a trembling breath, her arms wrapping around his back and holding him to her. “You are really here.”

“Yes,” Oliver replied. “I am really here.”

She released a breathy chuckle. “I still can’t believe it.”

“I know,” Oliver responded and pecked her lips. “We will get used to it.”

“Definitely,” Felicity agreed. She stroked her hands up and down his back before she kissed both of his cheeks and lips. Then she asked, “How did you sleep?”

“It could have been a lot worse,” Oliver explained. “Your pillow helped a lot. Thanks.”

“Sure.” Felicity smiled at him and bit down on her bottom lip. When Oliver perked up his eyebrows, she chuckled and told him, “I was just wondering how much more it will help when you are sleeping right next to me.”

Oliver felt himself tense slightly and if the way Felicity’s hand stroked over the tense muscles was any indication, she didn’t miss it, either. She framed his face with her hands and moved her thumbs through his short stubble before she lifted her head from the pillow and kissed him gently. Oliver felt himself relax a little and he released a long breath, tightening his arms around her.

“Let’s see how the day goes, okay?” he asked.

Felicity smiled. “Of course. There is no hurry. I mean… we kind of lost a lot of time together, but I want you to feel comfortable and you shouldn’t push yourself, I am just going to be patient and hoping to myself that you will feel ready soon because I am certainly going to miss you in the bed, but of course I don’t want to pressure you which I just realized I am doing and- you are smiling at me. Why are you smiling at me?”

“Because I have missed this,” Oliver explained, softly stroking his knuckles over her cheek. “I have missed lying in bed with you and listening to you babble.”

Felicity chuckle. “Really? You missed the babbling? Because I can tell you that most people are just getting headaches from it and actually wish me to go far away.”

“Not me,” Oliver replied, shaking his head. “Especially because when you babble I get to stop you like this-“

He lowered his lips back to hers, kissing her soundly. His lips moved against hers as his teeth grazed her bottom lip. Felicity sighed contently, allowing him to stroke his tongue against hers in the process. He poured all his love into the kiss, wordlessly telling her how much he loved and had missed her. He had been unable to do so yesterday as he had been too overwhelmed by being back with her, but now he could take his time and actually do so. They had all the time in the world now.

When low noises started coming from the baby monitor on the nightstand, they pulled apart. Oliver smiled, seeing Mae stretching her arms over her head tiredly. She was making noises, mixtures of grunts and sighs, that were easily the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. She sat up, looking around and rubbing her hands over her eyes.

“Mama,” she called out. “Mama, Mae wake.”

Felicity chuckled. “Isn’t she the sweetest?”

“Most definitely,” Oliver replied, smiling at the video of his daughter.

“I’ll go get her,” Felicity suggested, but Oliver was already rolling off her and out of bed.

“I’ll do that,” he said.

Yesterday he had earned himself a smile from the toddler. Now he would do his best to make sure they were making more process. Even if it was only little steps, if they were getting closer, he could be patient. He had to be patient.

When he opened the door to the nursery, Mae turned her head towards him. Her big, blue eyes took him in carefully, hesitation clear to see on her face. She grabbed her pink octopus, holding it to her chest tightly.

“Good morning, little princess,” Oliver said with a smile. “Did you sleep well?”

Mae looked at him for a moment before she turned her eyes away and took in the pink octopus as if she was seeing it for the first time now. Oliver stepped next to the crib, but Mae kept her gaze down.

“Come on, we are going to mommy,” Oliver suggested.

He reached into the crib, trying to lift Mae out, but it had been so terribly long since he had last held her. There was actually a part of him that was worried he was going to do it wrong. As little as he believed that she was easily breakable, he did fear that he was going to do something wrong and break the little connection they had made yesterday by hurting her.

Taking in a deep breath, he gave it a try. He put his hands to her waist, but Mae showed no sign that he was doing it right. Shouldn’t she be reaching her arms out for him or something?

As if reading his thoughts, Mae sighed and reached out her hands, still not looking at him, though. Oliver sighed in relief and lifted her out of the crib and into his arms. It was much easier with her help.

“Hi,” he whispered to her, stroking a hand through her curly hair. This was the closest he had been to her in a year and feeling her quick heartbeat against his ribs was making his heart beat a little more quickly, too. “Did I tell you how beautiful you are?”

“Mama,” she simply said, rubbing two tentacles of the octopus together. “Mama.”

“Alright,” Oliver said. “We are going to mama.”

As soon as Oliver turned around to head back to the bedroom, hoping for the kind of family cuddles they had often shared in the mornings before he and Felicity had headed to classes. Before he got to take a step, Tommy walked past the nursery, though.

“Tommy!” Mae exclaimed.

Tommy stopped, turning around to them, and smiled widely. “Hey, munchkin.”

Immediately Mae started struggling out of Oliver’s arms. She moved her legs until Oliver let her down on the floor. She ran across the room to Tommy and reached out her hands for him. Tommy didn’t hesitate to lift Mae into his arms and pepper her face with little kisses that made her squeal happily.

Oliver felt another stitch of jealousy at seeing how close Mae was to Tommy and how open she seemed when she around him. He tried to push his hands into the pockets of his pants until he remembered that his sweatpants didn’t have any pockets, leaving him to awkwardly crossed his arms in front of his chest as he watched on.

Yesterday during dinner, he had realized how much Mae really seemed to love Tommy. She had gone to him with the stuck Lego bricks and she had sought his comfort when Felicity had forbidden her to eat the jelly beans. There was even a photo of Tommy, Felicity and Mae on her first birthday, the very first birthday he had missed as he had been lost on an island, fighting for his life. He had been thinking about Mae all day on her birthday, hating that he wasn’t there for her big day when he had spent weeks imagining it.

He knew it wasn’t Tommy’s fault this had happened. There was just this little part of him that hated that Tommy had been part of everything Oliver had missed out on.

He quickly shook that thought off, though. Tommy was his best friend. He had actually proved that by becoming friends with Mae and helping Felicity through the time without him. Oliver should be grateful to have a friend he could always count on, even when he was believed to be dead. How many people could say that about themselves?

“She just woke up,” Oliver explained a little awkwardly.

Tommy smiled and tickled Mae’s stomach, making her giggle once more. Then he asked, “How was your first night back in the mansion? I guess the bed can only be an upgrade from the hospital beds or whatever bed you had been sleeping on before.”

“It was okay,” Oliver replied, shrugging his shoulders. “It takes time to get used to actually sleeping in a bed again.”

Tommy’s smile froze for a moment and Oliver regretted being so honest. He should have known that this kind of honesty wasn’t going to be appreciated.

“I mean… I… the beds in the hospital were saggy, so it was like not sleeping in a bed at all,” Oliver mumbled, barely able to look at Tommy.

His friend quickly caught himself again. “Well, breakfast is certainly something else you will like to get used to again. You get Felicity. Mae and I will make sure breakfast is ready when you join us downstairs. Right, munchkin?”

“Mae milk.”

“Yes, you can help me prepare your milk,” Tommy explained. “Nobody can help me better than you anyway.”

“Mae help.”

“Yes, Mae will help me with the bottle,” Tommy replied. He looked at Oliver and explained, “She loves helping prepare her bottle. Last week I dared to bring her the fully-prepared bottle to bed. She refused to drink it. I did consider letting her day start without the usual bottle, but who can say no to this sweet, little face when she asks for her milk and to help prepare it?”

Mae squealed happily and Oliver’s smile turned warmer. It was weird hearing these stories of his daughter as if he was an outsider who needed to be told things. In a way that was probably exactly what he was. He was an outsider as he had missed a lot of her life. He had one year of stories to catch up on.

When Mae released a whine, mumbling something to Tommy that Oliver didn’t understand, Tommy nodded and explained to Oliver, “I have to take her downstairs or she gets grumpy. Take your time before coming downstairs. I am sure Raisa prepared a feast to honor your first morning back. She always prepares a large buffet, but I am sure she made something special for your return.”

Oliver nodded, watching Tommy take Mae downstairs. He would have loved to take her downstairs himself, but she seemed to be so content in Tommy’s arm that he didn’t protest Tommy’s plan. He would just have to get used to the idea that baby steps really meant baby steps. He had held Mae in his arms today, even if only for a few seconds. Maybe that was the baby step for today.

When he strolled back into the bedroom, Felicity was already on her feet, slipping into some yoga pants and a sweater from MIT.

“Tommy took Mae downstairs already,” he explained.

“Yeah, I heard.”

Felicity nodded towards the baby monitor on the nightstand before she went into the bathroom. Oliver sat down on the edge of the mattress, watching Felicity put her hair back into a ponytail and then brush her teeth. She didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised that Tommy had taken her, so Oliver guessed it was a normal thing. Like it was apparently normal that he lived with Felicity and Mae.

“Do you have to go to QC today?” Oliver asked after a moment.

Still brushing her teeth, Felicity leaned into the doorframe and shook her head. “No. I talked to Mr. Steele and he said I can take as much time off as I need to and either catch up on the missed time later or just, you know, sweep it under the rug and never talk about it again. I guess it’s one of the advantages of serving an internship in a company which has your boyfriend’s name on the building. If he comes back from the dead, you actually get days off to celebrate.”

Oliver’s smile grew a little tense as he was unsure what exactly to think or say about that. He knew that Felicity often tried to be funny to cover up her own pain or to hide the awkwardness of a situation. Usually he could deal with that, but he wasn’t sure how exactly to deal with that right now.

Eventually he whispered, “It’s actually my father’s name.”

“I am so sorry,” Felicity hurried to say, her eyes widening in shock at what she had just said. “I have no idea why I said that.”

When she walked back into the bathroom to rinse her mouth, Oliver lowered his gaze. The trip to China should have been a way for him and his dad to grow closer together and during the time they had spent together on the Gambit, Oliver felt they really had achieved that. He had told his dad a lot about his fears of failing as a good boyfriend and father and he had been so relieved to have his father’s support. They had shared stories with each other, from one father to another. After the tense relationship they had had when Oliver had been younger all the way up to the moment he had told his parents that he was going to be a teenage father, it had just felt so good to be able to talk to his dad about things and feel like they were on the same level.

Their journey had almost come to the planned end as it would have only taken two nights more for them to reach their destination at the coast of China when the storm had taken them by surprise and the Gambit had sunk. Oliver rubbed his hands together nervously at the memory of that night. It had been a year and still he struggled to really understand what had been going on there. It had always felt so unreal. It still did in a lot of ways.

When he heard Felicity approaching, he looked up. She gave him a comforting smile, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him and taking his hands in hers.

“I am sorry about your dad,” she whispered. “I know you just started to build the kind of relationship with him that you had always hoped for and I am sorry it got taken away from you too soon.”

Oliver nodded slowly, barely able to look at Felicity. He felt his stomach cramping at her words. Losing his dad had been as painful as being away from Felicity, Mae and the rest of his family. He hadn’t had anyone to comfort him. He hadn’t even had the chance to really grieve his dad or the life he felt he had lost.

Now probably wasn’t the time to do so, either. He was back in Starling now and all he could do was look forward because looking back was not going to help him here. To use the second chance he had gotten and move on with Felicity and Mae. He owed himself, and he owed his dad, to live.

“Let’s go downstairs before Tommy and Mae eat all the food,” he stated, giving Felicity a half-hearted smile. “We don’t want them to-“

“Oliver,” she whispered.

“Just-“ Oliver started but hesitated. He reached out a hand for her and Felicity intertwined her fingers with his, getting up from the bed. Oliver sighed quietly. “I am going to talk to you about… about what happened. I promise you that I will tell you everything you need to or want to know. I just… Just… Just not now please.”

Felicity looked into his eyes intently, almost like she was trying to read what was going on with him, before nodding. “Okay.”

Oliver released a breath of relief, grateful for her understanding. He pecked her lips shortly. “Thanks.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” Felicity replied. “I will be patiently waiting for you to be ready. Just take your time and tell me when you are ready.”

Felicity clung to his arm as they headed downstairs. At first Oliver thought they were going to the dining room where breakfast used to be served when he had still been living here, but Felicity steered him towards the kitchen. They hadn’t yet reached it when Oliver could already hear Mae’s happy giggles.

“She is not really a morning person,” Felicity explained with quiet voice, “but sometimes she does have her good mornings, especially when Tommy is around to make her breakfast. He always makes a show of it.”

Oliver frowned. “Tommy can’t make breakfast.”

“Well, Tommy can’t cook,” Felicity corrected him, “but he can very well put together the food Raisa made in a way that Mae likes.”

Before Oliver got the chance to ask what food Mae liked or how she liked her breakfast being served, Felicity was pulling him into the kitchen with her. Mae was sitting on the countertop, looking at Tommy adoringly while he was juggling an apple, orange and banana.

“Oh, oh,” Felicity said with a chuckle and let go of Oliver’s hand to approach Mae and Tommy. She lifted her daughter into her arms and kissed her cheek before she asked, “Who is in trouble for playing with the food?”

“Tommy!” Mae exclaimed with a squeal, pointing her finger at him.

Quickly Tommy hid the fruit behind his back and leaned towards Mae, whispering loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “Distract her.”

“Mama, Tommy face,” Mae said immediately, pointing at a plate on the kitchen counter next to her.

Felicity turned her head to the plate and gasped dramatically. “Oh my god! The pancake has a face. How can the pancake have a face?”

“Tommy,” Mae replied.

“Tommy gave the pancake a face?”

Mae nodded and grabbed for the plate. Felicity took the plate and held it out of Mae’s reach as she walked towards the small table. She sat Mae down before she put the plate in front of her. Immediately Mae started eating, mostly using her hands to feed herself.

When Tommy put a plate with a pancake and chocolate syrup down on the table, Felicity quickly pulled it close. “So nice of you to make me breakfast, too, Tommy.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at her before he looked at Mae and said, “You are lucky you are such a sweetheart. Otherwise I would have ripped you mommy’s head off for stealing my breakfast.”

Felicity chuckled, watching Tommy return to the kitchen island. Then she turned to look at Oliver and frowned. “Don’t you want to have breakfast?”

“Uhm…” Oliver said awkwardly, quickly shaking off all the impressions the scene at hand had made. He had been too focused on observing to actually act. “Yes, of course.”

He quickly went over to the kitchen counter where Tommy was pouring a lot of chocolate syrup on another pancake. Oliver grabbed a plate, trying to get an overview of all the things Raisa seemed to have prepared. There were bowls filled with chopped vegetables and fruits as well as rolls, toasts and croissants. Scrambled eggs and muffins and bagels and god knew what else filled up the rest of the kitchen island.

He hadn’t had a variety of choices for breakfast since he had moved away and he hadn’t had any breakfast in about a year as he could barely get anything down. He felt like he had forgotten how any of these foods taste and how to decide which one to try first.

“I’d go for the scrambled eggs and a toast if I was you,” Felicity whispered into his direction, probably sensing his difficulty to choose from the large variety.

Oliver smiled gratefully, quickly getting what Felicity had suggested and adding some bacon to it. He would have never believed that you could forget how to choose what you liked, but a lot of things he had thought weren’t possible had been proven quite possible recently.

When Oliver sat down next to Felicity, he quickly kissed her cheek and whispered, “Thanks.”

She turned her head and smiled at him, asking, “Coffee?”

Oliver nodded and she grabbed them two mugs. Oliver meanwhile started eating slowly, watching Mae grabbing a piece of banana from her plate and pushing it into Tommy’s mouth.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Tommy said. “Good thing I have you to make sure I am eating healthy.”

“Where is Laurel?” Felicity asked.

“She went for a run, but she should be back in a couple of minutes,” Tommy explained. “She-“

“Tommy, face!”

Tommy looked at Mae and followed her look to the pancake that had been used as a face and was now missing the fruit. He gasped. “Did you eat the entire face?”

Mae nodded, giggling happily. Then she pushed the plate to Tommy. “Tommy face!”

“Okay, Tommy’s going to make a new face, but you gotta help me.”

Mae jumped off her chair and Felicity grabbed the toddler’s hand just in time to prevent the little girl from losing her balance and falling face forward on the floor.

“Careful, Mae,” she warned.

“Mama too,” Mae said, not letting go of Felicity’s hand and tugging at it instead. “Mama too.”

Felicity shook her head. “Mommy is having breakfast. You go and help Tommy make your breakfast.”

“Mama too,” Mae said once more, but again Felicity shook her head.

“You go and help Tommy. Mommy is having breakfast.”

Mae didn’t seem happy about her mother’s answer and Oliver was just about to offer that he’d come and watch her help Tommy when Tommy called for her from the kitchen counter and immediately Mae ran to help him, smiling happily. Oliver turned his head to watch Mae as she was enamored with how Tommy made a great show out of creating another face on the pancake. He was throwing around the pieces of fruits before catching them with the plate so they came landed on the pancake just where he needed them.

Felicity put a hand to his thigh, calling his attention, and Oliver turned to her with perked up eyebrows. She was smiling softly at him.

“Do you have any plans for today?” she asked. “I mean not that you have made appointments or anything I guess, but do you… do you know what you want to do today?”

Oliver shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess I need to buy a few new clothes and other stuff eventually, but I am not really up for that today.”

“Yes, that has time,” Felicity agreed with a smile. “Thea would be happy if you asked her to come with you shopping, by the way. She once complained to me that you never took her shopping.”

Oliver nodded. “Duly noted.”

Felicity smiled. “I was thinking if maybe you wanted to-“

“Mama!”

At Mae’s call, Felicity looked past him and smiled at their daughter. Oliver followed her gaze and where Tommy was juggling with some fruits again while Mae watched.

“Yes, Tommy is doing great,” Felicity said. She turned back to Oliver. “What I meant to say is-“

“Mama!”

Felicity sighed, got up and kissed Oliver’s cheek. “Give me a second.”

She went to the kitchen counter and immediately Mae reached out her arms, so Felicity pulled the toddler closer until she was sitting on her mother’s hip. Mae pointed her finger at Tommy.

“Yes, Tommy is making a great show to make breakfast even more fun,” Felicity said with a chuckle.

Then she whispered something into Mae’s ear that he couldn’t understand. It made Mae giggle and exclaim something Oliver didn’t understand. Tommy understood, though. He handed Mae a piece of strawberry and she smiled happily as she pushed it into her mouth and made munching sounds. Felicity and Tommy both chuckled.

Oliver watched the three of them. He knew by now how close Tommy and Mae were and how much Felicity had leaned on Tommy in the past year, but seeing the three together like this still made his heart tighten in a way. It was like they were a family, but Felicity and Mae were actually his family, not Tommy’s.

He knew he had no right to be angry. He wasn’t even angry. He understood that his absence must have caused problems and Felicity had needed someone to lean on. He was glad that she had found someone she could trust and who was so great with Mae, but as much as he told himself to be rational and just deal with it, he couldn’t stop the heavy feeling of jealousy that was spreading in his chest.

This should be him. He should be the one making breakfast for Mae and he should be the one making a great show out of it. He should also be the one Mae was demanding attention from. When she had been a baby, she had always demanded his attention. She had crawled into his lap and pulled herself up with her hands grabbing his shirt. Then she’d play with his stubble and give him open-mouth kisses that had left her spit on his skin.

Oliver knew it would take time. He had known it all along. Coming back and expecting everything to be like it had been even before he had left had been hopeless from the start, so he had prepared himself for all kinds of changes. It didn’t mean that he was really ready to accept and deal with them now that he was here. These past couple of days he had told himself to be patient over and over again. Yet he felt his patience fading already.

When he felt his emotions overwhelming him, he quickly got up. Tommy and Felicity both turned to look at him.

“Everything alright?” Felicity asked.

“Yes,” Oliver lied, quickly putting on a smile. “I just… I need some fresh air. I’m tostep outside for a moment.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Felicity asked.

“Mama!” Mae called, tugging at Felicity’s ponytail to call for her attention.

Oliver shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I just need a moment.”

He turned around quickly and headed outside. As soon as he took a step onto the terrace, he took in a deep breath, closing his eyes. He closed the doors behind him and walked towards the balustrade. Resting his forearms on the warm stones he rubbed his hands over his face.

It still all felt like a dream. From the moment his dad had woken him in the middle of the night, telling him there was a storm and they all needed to put on the life jackets and prepare for the worst, it all felt like a dream. Over the past several months, he had pinched himself again and again, trying to wake himself from this nightmare his life had become, but he never woke up.

He would do anything to go back to the day he and his dad had started their trip to China to convince him to not go. Or maybe he could be taken back to the day he and Felicity had moved to Boston, so he could make things right this time and not find the wrong friends. He could go back to the day Felicity had told him that she still wanted to go to Boston and instead of taking out months of bottled up emotions on her, he’d talk to her about it. That way it would also prevent him from almost being too late for his daughter’s birth.

Oliver shook his head. The island had given him a lot of time to think about his mistakes. Between fighting to survive and praying that he got a chance to tell Felicity and Mae how much he loved them, thinking about his past mistakes had really been all he had done. He had wanted a second chance of making it right. Now he felt like the first thing he needed to do was to actually get in the kind of place where he could make things right, at least with Mae and then-

“Hey.”

Oliver flinched, quickly turning around to where Laurel was approaching him from. At his panicked expression, she stood still and lifted her hands. Oliver sighed, shaking his head.

“Sorry.”

Laurel smiled, shaking her head. “Don’t worry. I did kind of sneak up on you.”

Oliver pressed his lips together and turned back towards the garden. Leaning forward and resting his forearms on the balustrade, he took in the elaborate flowerbeds his mother had laid out. When he was a kid, she had always taken care of the flowers. It was the one thing she had always preferred to do herself and only given into the care of a gardener if it had been necessary.

Laurel came to stand next to him, mimicking his position. She looked over the garden for a long time before she shot him a short look and asked, “Everything alright?”

Oliver shrugged his shoulders. “I just need to get used to a few things.”

Laurel nodded shortly before she looked back over her shoulder. Oliver followed her gaze towards the kitchen. Felicity, Tommy and Mae were sitting at the table again, Mae kneeling on her chair between her mother and friend. She was looking back and forth between the two of them, feeding Tommy strawberries and Felicity banana. It was the perfect family scene. They could plug marmalade or whatever products were plugged with breakfast scenes like that.

“Seeing the three of them together can be quite overwhelming, right?” Laurel asked, smiling at him comfortingly.

“It’s just weird seeing them like that,” Oliver whispered, “like they are a family. Mother, father, daughter – all happy together.”

“I know,” Laurel replied with a low sigh. “They look like they belong together like that and like it has never been different, but always the three of them together.”

Oliver frowned, looking at Laurel intently. She was smiling, but he narrowed his eyes at her, looking for any sign that maybe she was bothered by their connection, too. There wasn’t anything that would give anything away, though.

“Don’t you mind this at all?”

Laurel hesitated for a moment, considering her answer carefully it seemed. She shot another look towards the kitchen and lifted her hand to wave when Tommy noticed her. Oliver watched Tommy tapping Mae’s shoulder and then point outside at Laurel. Immediately Mae started waving and Laurel smiled, waving back at the toddler. While Mae went back to eating her breakfast, Laurel looked back at Oliver.

“After the Gambit went down and we thought you were… dead,” she said eventually, making a long pause. She released a long breath and looked at the garden once more before she looked back at him, smiling sadly. “Losing the two of you was very shocking, especially to the people closest to you. Your mom didn’t get out of bed for weeks until Thea called Donna. She was crying because she had no idea what to do and she was scared about your mom and she missed you so much. Donna basically lived here for a month until Moira start to heal from the loss of you and your father. Tommy spent a lot of time here to distract Thea.”

Oliver nodded shortly. Tommy and Thea had always had a good relationship or at least as good as the relationship to your best friend’s younger sister could be.

“Felicity and Mae have been staying here a while, but eventually we went back to Boston,” Laurel continued. “Donna was worried because she didn’t want to just let Felicity go, but she and Quentin both had their life here in Starling. They had their jobs here and their friends here and Donna wasn’t sure if she could leave Moira alone. I promised her I’d take care the Felicity and Mae. Besides, she had Lyla, who has always been like a second mother to her, and John in Boston, too. She had friends to support her and Tommy was moving there soon after as well. She was pushing everyone away, though. She wanted to be left alone, spent her days solely with MIT-stuff and Mae. She didn’t meet friends. She barely left her apartment. She didn’t eat. She didn’t sleep.”

Oliver felt like he’d been socked in the stomach. He knew Felicity, and he knew that in times of crisis her first instinct had often been to do things alone. After her father had left, she had felt like she had to prepare herself for people to leave her, so she had learned to get used to doing things alone from the start. During their relationship, she had slowly started to let her guards down. Losing him must have brought them back up and it broke his heart knowing how hard it must have been on her.

“What happened then?” Oliver asked eventually.

“What was bound to happen,” Laurel replied. “She collapsed. I got a call from the hospital. She was in class and just passed out from exhaustion. She slept for an entire day, cried for another and then sat in her bed in the hospital and said she couldn’t stay at MIT. She wanted to give up and go back to Starling and study there because she felt she couldn’t do it anymore. Tommy, Moira and Donna all came to Boston when Felicity was released from the hospital. We talked things through with her and made a plan. Felicity wasn’t sure about it at first, but she agreed to give it a try. Tommy started living at her apartment. He slept on the couch for a long time. That way she wasn’t alone with Mae anymore and actually got a little bit more sleep because Tommy could step up when Mae was crying all night. He also made sure that Felicity was taking care of herself, that she was sleeping and eating enough. When Tommy and I eventually got back together, the three of us decided it was easiest for us all to move in together. That way we could all take care of Mae. We could all take care of each other really.”

Oliver nodded. Raising a baby and going to college hadn’t been easy. He and Felicity had realized that during their year in Boston, too. They had had to make a strict plan of who dropped Mae at the Diggle’s in the morning and who picked her back up. They had made sure that they weren’t making plans for the same evenings, so someone would stay always stay with her. It had been stressful, but as Mae’s parents they had done it. Knowing that their friends had agreed to give up part of the freedom of college life to help Felicity, when he hadn’t been able to, meant a lot to him.

“So that is how Tommy grew so close to Felicity and Mae?”

Laurel nodded. “He wanted to make sure she could stay at MIT. He knew how much it meant to her and how much it meant to you that she was going to MIT. He would have moved to Boston anyway. He just spent a lot more time helping Felicity with Mae than he might have planned on. At the beginning it was really hard, especially because he had no idea what to do with a baby, but he learned how to deal with her and then it worked out. Felicity could stay at MIT and her life got a little less stressful.”

“And you never minded that they were so close and have this happy-family-relationship?” Oliver asked. “I mean… they look like they are a couple.”

“They are not,” Laurel said gently, but with a certainty that allowed no objection. “There was a time that I might have thought that maybe they were going to be a couple eventually. It was at the very beginning before Tommy and I were together. I had never seen him caring that much and being so responsible and ready for all the involvement. I thought maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was doing it for Felicity. I was ready to step back from my own wishes to be with Tommy because I thought he wanted something with her and figured that if Felicity wanted him, I shouldn’t be in their way, especially because of everything she had been through. I was ready to try being mature, responsible and understanding.”

“But?” Oliver asked.

“But there are absolutely no romantic feelings between these two,” Laurel told him with a smile. “They get along well. They both love you and they both love Mae and they both want what is best for her, but they aren’t interested in each other, at least not like that. They like each other and care about each other and each other’s well being. That’s all. Tommy was just what Felicity and Mae needed after you… were gone.”

Oliver turned his head once more, watching Mae trying to push another strawberry into Tommy’s mouth, but he kept his lips shut firmly. When she almost seemed to be giving up, he quickly snapped at the strawberry, making Mae squeal so loudly that Oliver could hear it outside.

“Besides, Felicity always loved you and only you,” Laurel added. “Even if you hadn’t come back, I doubt she would have been ready to move on with anyone else anytime soon.”

Oliver nodded. Tommy had said almost the same thing to him yesterday. The truth was that he wasn’t that worried about Felicity and him right now. She had welcomed him back with open arms, telling him that she loved him and she wanted to be with him. Things between them, as complicated as they were, were actually kind of easy. Felicity remembered him. She understood why he hadn’t been part of her and Mae’s life in the past year. She loved him and had wanted him back to fill the void he had left when he had supposedly died.

For Mae it was different because she didn’t remember him. She had no idea who he was and she didn’t understand why he was suddenly here and trying to get closer to her. He didn’t even know if there had been a void for her when he had been missing from her life because he had no idea how much of that she had understood.

Oliver turned his head back over his shoulder again, once more watching Mae and Tommy interact. The toddler seemed to be laughing all the time when he was around. They were as close as father and daughter and that was the very reason why he was so nervous and why he felt the throbbing pain in his chest with every beat of his heart. It felt like if his absence had left a void in Mae’s heart like it had in Felicity’s, then it had already been filled before he had come back. So what if really she didn’t need him or want him in her life anymore? What then?

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