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secondhand-trash · 3 years

Text

Put a Ring on It

A/N: I started it with the intention of writing a thirst post but it ended up being 1.7k of pure fluff lmao

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Description: Miya Atsumu had a thing for wearing rings.

Word count: 1772

Miya Atsumu had a thing for wearing rings.

Maybe it was how he thought that they made his hands looked bigger, or how the accents never failed to draw even more attention to his slender fingers. Likely, it was just the way how most teenage boys went through a phase of wanting to look stylish and edgy without really bothering to look into having an actual style of their own, resulting in him halting a baggy t-shirt, cargo pants and an unnecessary amount of rings as the peak of men’s fashion. You had your own thoughts on how he was so determined to slip a ring or two into whatever he was wearing whenever he was out of his uniform. You made fun of his sense of fashion none stop, pointing to his bleached hair that has faded from the gold it was supposed to be into a sharp yellow and cheap chunky jewelry as the main culprit.

“You look like a delinquent who smokes cheap cigarettes in parks after school.”

You sniggered when he let out an offended ‘huh’. His chunky silver rings that had obnoxiously prominent carvings on the side brushed dug into the gap between your fingers as he squeezed your hand tighter when he snapped towards your direction. Your free hand, the one that wasn’t in a lock hold by his ring clad one, reached out to brush away his side-swooped bangs. His hair was fried from the boxed bleach he used regularly but as a side perk, the dryness did add to the volume of his hair.

He stood there still as you carefully pushed his hair back, his upper body leaning towards your direction just a little so you didn’t have to struggle to reach him despite his initial protests. You were messing with his hair and he was looking at you, only at you, with his fingers still linked with yours even though you always complained about his rings making it hard for you to hold his hand.

You finally pulled back and your gaze dropped from his bangs to his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when you met his eyes and they were full of you.

You cursed your weak heart for its sudden moment of swooning when he stood back up straight and his ring scratched against the inside of your finger.

You sighed, “You are so lucky you have a nice face so that people will be too caught up to notice how you dressed.”

Atsumu pretended he couldn’t hear the second half of the sentence and decided to focus on how you said he had a nice face instead.

But then you graduated from high school and he slowly started dressing less like a disastrous teenage boy and more like a proper adult. That athlete money did him well and he was finally able to dress the way he wanted to dress without having to turn into a questionable direction because of monetary limits. The baggy pants were gone from his closet, replaced with pants that actually fit his body and elevate things instead of holding back the visual upper hand he was supposed to have because of his physiques. He finally stopped bleaching his own hair after your many years of nagging but you nearly lost your composure when he showed up in front of your door to pick you up with his new hair for the first time.

“I got the stylist to trim my bangs for me,” he said as he ran his hand through the curl sitting at the side of his forehead and you gulped when you realised that his hair was soft enough for fingers to go through them with ease now, “I’m still trying to get used to not having things over my eye.”

“Oh?” you replied, your voice breathy as you tried to calm down your sea of thoughts at the sight of your boyfriend’s new look.

You were aware that he was good looking, but everything that he was not born with used to be questionable so it balanced things out. Now he was wearing tight-fitted jeans that made his legs look even more toned as if it was even possible, with a white t-shirt that was tugged in loosely. He had a blazer on too, probably because you made him take you somewhere nice in celebration of his first VLeague cheque, but at this point you were almost certain he had that thing on just to drive you insane.

And his hair, his god damn windswept fluffy no longer bright yellow hair.

“Do you think I should grow it longer?” he asked as he rubbed the tip of his bangs between the pads of his finger. The silver that sat at the bottom of his digits contrasted starkly with the pale gold and it finally dawned upon you that he stopped wearing the cheap rings you used to make fun of him for a while ago.

Oh dear, now he was actually hot.

“No,” you blurted out, “it looks nicer this way.”

"You think so?” he asked as you forced your legs to move past your door before shutting it behind your back firmly. You had to force yourself to go out before the urge to make him come in could win, or else you would most certainly end up doing things that would make you miss your reservation.

And you had been excited to leech off of his athlete money.

“Yes, yes I do think so,” you said as you grabbed his hand to pull him along with you.

You groaned in satisfaction when you realised his new rings did not stop you from sliding your fingers between his like the old ones did.

You started having fewer objections towards his choice of accessaries after his general fashion sense shifted for the better. You even started liking the rings after a while, crediting it to him opting for designs with more simplicity. You liked the way the metal was already warm from his heat when he put his hand on your thigh out of nowhere because he was bored, or when he was at the driver’s seat and the pad of his finger drummed against your skin steadily as he waited for the lights to change. The warmth of his hand always brought you security and he was well aware that nothing called your attention to him like it did. You were not even sure if he was aware, but he had a habit of toying with his rings whenever you were neglecting him because you had your attention on something else. The band he was playing with always ended up off his finger and up yours when you were least expecting it, the feeling of his calloused finger holding your hand as he slid it down always managed to call your gaze back to him.

‘What a child,’ you chuckled to yourself when he looked at you innocently like he could not be having any hidden thoughts, his hand still holding onto yours as he held the ring that was too large for your finger from falling down.

So being the child he was, who always couldn’t fathom the thought of letting you leave his side and was equally eager to let the world know he wasn’t leaving yours, it did not surprise you at all when you were tidying up your drawers one day to find a velvet box tugged all the way back into his sock drawer.

You had a feeling it was exactly what you thought it was, and you laughed at the image of him trying to find somewhere to hide it in the house while you were not around.

Of course, leave it up to Miya Atsumu to hide a ring at the back of his sock drawer because he thought it was the one place you wouldn’t look into unless you were left with no choice.

You giggled to yourself and closed the drawer, letting the box stayed right where it was.

You weren’t looking. You wanted to, but you weren’t. Because you knew he would whine to no end if you didn’t look as surprised as he wanted you to be when he finally showed it to you for real.

He still had no clue that you already knew it was coming when he got down on one knee and took the box out of his pocket with shaky hands. He cried when you said yes and you cried when he started crying, even though you had already rehearsed in your head for a million times on how you would say yes ever since you saw the velvet box inside of his sock drawer.

He was still sobbing when he realised he needed to get up from the ground, wiping his tears away on the sleeve of his very expensive blazer before clumsily taking the ring out of the box to put it on your finger. Miya Atsumu was an ugly crier through and through and you finally admitted to yourself that you were a whipped fool when you still wanted to kiss his stupid face even though his eyes were swollen and he missed your finger a few times before finally getting the ring in.

“Now we match,” he said with a hiccup, laughing but sounding like he was about to break down into another round of tears as soon as the chuckle left his mouth, “you can’t make fun of my rings anymore.”

He was so dumb, and you felt like crying again when he took out an identical ring from his pocket and put it on his own hand. Who the hell does that? You wanted to laugh at him but you couldn’t, because you knew you would start sobbing again if you do that.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, grabbing his hand to steady him because he was shaking and you were sure he might just drop the ring if he kept fidgeting.

He sniffled, grinning ear to ear through his tears when he saw the ring that sat on your finger.

“So?” he said, happily holding your hand in his to look at how perfectly it fits, the rings and your hands, “You can’t get rid of me now, I got the ring to prove it.”

You huffed, but couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when he rubbed his fingers along his engagement ring like he was making sure that it was still there.

You decided that it would be your favourite ring of his until you get to put the wedding band onto his finger yourself.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagines

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

#ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagines #ben chilwell #england national team imagine #chelsea imagine #footie fic #football fic #footballer fic

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mintjamsblog · 3 years

Note

Does Alfie ever demand that Tommy calls him Sir?

Okay, this is so late, (I'm sorry, I have sat on this answer for literally weeks). It also answers another ask I seem to have lost/deleted, which simply said 'sub-drop?' So, here you go, it turned into 1600 words of smut, I'm afraid. (Set in my Mistakes AU, but can be read without that background).

Subdrop

"How many fingers Tommy?"

Tommy lifts his head but it drops back immediately.

"Tommy, love, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"Ten," Tommy says, without even looking. "Everyone has ten."

"Alright, love, up we come."

It's no wonder, really, Alfie has toyed with him mercilessly for — he checks his watch — fuck, well over two hours, has brought him to the brink of orgasm over and over again, watched his face flush and his thighs tremble and his stomach contract in anticipation of the release he's repeatedly been denied.

Tommy's so fucking pretty when he lets himself go (when he's made to let go) and Alfie, well, he's always been a sucker for pretty things, ain't he? Beautiful things.

Tommy finds it so hard to relax that once Alfie gets him loose, persuades him into handcuffs or a spreader-bar or, immobilises him somehow, his inclination is to make the most of the situation, to wring him out like a wet towel, count every last drop of resistance as it splashes onto the floor — a puddle to be licked up and savoured (metaphorically speaking, of course, there's no way Tommy's licking anything off any floors with his arms and legs fastened securely to the straps of a leather sling).

The silly boy still approaches these scenes as if they're a test of his fortitude rather than a willing exchange of power and trust. And that's fine, mostly. A click of his fingers or a safeword could end it all, but Tommy'd far rather grit his teeth and pretend he don't want this at all. Alfie can allow that for a while, can give him something to bite down on until he's too far gone to care about giving a voice to his plight.

Usually it takes some impact to get Tommy to give up his sounds. He needs to be pushed past some physical threshold. A firm hand, a paddle, a whip — they each make him sing different notes, eventually, but always the same fuckin' undertone. Anger. Whether Tommy's angry at Alfie (likely) or at himself for needing this (even more likely) is neither here nor there. Tommy has plenty to be angry at; the world ain't always been kind to him and he's even less kind to himself.

But anger, well, it's corrosive innit? Useful when controlled, maybe, when mastered effectively and released into the world in small bursts that serve a purpose; to warn or threaten or reinforce the hierarchy. But not when it seethes in your blood, pumps through your heart and into each artery like slow-acting poison that seeps through veins and capillaries, reaches the tip of every extremity, hides beneath every thought. That sort of anger, the sort Tommy lives with, that anger needs to be let. Like blood.

Not that Alfie's some antiquated physician restoring balance to the humors. Nah, he fancies his particular form of therapy's far more effective, even if his tools are barely less crude than the old-timers' scalpels and leeches. Alfie prefers to mix things up, to intersperse the blows of a bullwhip with the soft, wet heat of his tongue; to lash Tommy with a folded belt, then hold his cock like a delicate creature he's trying to stroke back to life. He'll pinch and tease and whip and probe until Tommy rails and rages, fists balled, teeth bared, every muscle pulled taut as tension wire. Eventually he'll scream at Alfie, at himself, at the universe, then let the breath shudder out in increasingly shaky increments, like he's tumbling down the stairs.

The journey to that point is best travelled slow. Given time, Tommy's tight grunts and growls always soften into something looser, gentler, pain still evident in the pitch of his voice, but threaded through with desire and resignation and something else entirely ... an underlying need to give up or give in. To please, Alfie flatters himself.

That medley of sounds, the unwinding trajectory of 'em, awakens some possessive creature in Alfie. He can feel it uncoiling inside him, muscles sliding and flexing as he drives Tommy towards an apex neither of 'em can see — a pinnacle of endurance or restraint beyond which Tommy simply is. Or maybe isn't. Beyond which he is merely a consciousness, untethered from any worldly woes and oblivious to the sensations of his own flesh. Or perhaps oblivious to anything but the sensations of his own flesh. Either way, Alfie knows to watch when the sounds turn animalistic, when the groans are so low and feral that they peter out into breaths. Into nothing. Into rolled-back eyes and gaping mouth and climaxes so molten they look more like pain than pleasure.

"Come on love, that's it, down we come."

It's a struggle getting Tommy out of the sling, he's too exhausted to cooperate, to untangle his own limbs from the leather, so Alfie releases the two lower straps and pours him out like water. Like water he slips through Alfie's waiting arms and pools at his feet on the floor.

"Up you get," Alfie says, hoisting him under the arms, and up Tommy comes, unsteady but obedient in his altered state of mind. Alfie braces him for a moment, waits for Tommy's body to harden, for a flicker of conceit to return to those down-cast eyes. Now is when Tommy should swipe a hand down his face, curse under his breath and huff an almost laugh, a poor disguise for self-consciousness, but a sign he's aware at least.

But Tommy offers no such reassurance, regains none of the control that usually washes back as soon as he's up on his feet. He's deep, Alfie realises. Deeper than usual.

He whispers into Tommy's ear, small praises that have no place in any moment other than one such as this. His fingers run down Tommy's back, tracing small paths through sweat that's turned cold, an attempt to distract and reassure, but already he knows it's too late. He's left it too late. He can feel the distant vibrations and knows they'll soon take Tommy's legs.

By the time Alfie gets him onto the bed, onto his side, the trembling has tipped into shivering, a violent reflex that even the finest goose-down duvet fails to subdue. Alfie curses himself for missing the cues, for pushing Tommy too hard. "S'okay," he whispers, "you were beautiful."

But Tommy is straining against the hold, against Alfie's leg wrapped over his own. "I need ... I'm gonna be sick," he says, and throws himself into a sitting position with a violent retching sound. The purge that follows isn't from his stomach, it pours down his face in scalding tears that drench Alfie's waiting hands. Tommy throws his arm up and buries his eyes in the crook of his elbow, taking frightening gasps after every few breaths.

"Come on, now," Alfie says, entirely at a loss. Sure, he pushed Tommy hard tonight, but it seemed like what they both wanted. Needed. "Please, don't," he whispers, hands searching beneath Tommy's forearm to thumb away some of the tears. He wants to tell Tommy he doesn't mind, he can cry as much as he likes. Alfie don't see this as victory; Alfie's not him. But he says nothing, afraid of dredging up ghosts as he coaxes Tommy back down to the mattress, runs fingers through his hair, holds him tight against his chest and lets him cry himself out till the tap runs mercifully dry.

"Why?" Tommy says, eventually.

Fucks sake, why what? Why anything? Why do they do what they do to each other? Why does Tommy allow it? Allow Alfie to pull the meat from his preverbial bones? Alfie's asked himself the same question often enough. Not why does he do this, exactly, he's well past shame over that, but why did he get this lucky? Why does he get to do this with Tommy? To see what no one else sees? Why did he push him so hard tonight? Why did he think Tommy could take it?

"Why did you spend so long ... you know ..." Tommy sniffs, "when there's nothing in it for you?"

Alfie pulls Tommy out from his chest enough to look him in the eye. "Nothing in it for me? Are you fucking kidding me, Tommy?"

"You didn't even come," Tommy says.

At that, Alfie grabs Tommy's arm, fumbling to open the top button of his jeans and force Tommy's hand inside. "There," he says, in his sternest voice. "Nothing in it for me, hmm?"

"Oh!" Tommy says in surprise.

"Yeah, oh, you blithering idiot. Twice. No fuckin' hands."

He watches Tommy swallow, feels fingers flex through the undeniable evidence soaked right through Alfie's boxers.

"Why?" Tommy asks again.

"Why what Tommy? Why does God allow famine and pestilence? Why do good people die? Why didn't I meet you ten years ago, hmm?"

"Why did you fucking come?"

"Because you’re sexy as all burning hell, aren't you? Turn me on like a switch."

Tommy curls into him tighter, buries his face again, and it dawns on Alfie that he really and truly doesn't get it, does he?

"The first time, right, you wouldn't lay back." He keeps his voice low, strokes Tommy's perfect little ear. "I'd fingered you till you were leaking all over your stomach, all over the marks I'd left with the flogger. You should've been way past defiance by then, but you just kept trying to sit up ... your mouth hanging open, like you were trying to fuckin' kiss me." Tommy burrows further still. "So I slapped you," Alfie continues. Maybe that was a bit cruel. "And you only tried even harder. Lay your sinful tongue on your lower lip and strained up out of the sling." Alfie's hardening again at the recollection, at the way he'd thought Tommy was acting, playing the little minx, struggling to reach forward with his wrists and ankles bound to the straps above him. Only Tommy'd never appear so needy, not in his rightful mind, wouldn't chase Alfie's mouth like a newborn pup seeking out its mother's teet. And he'd gazed at Alfie through half-lidded eyes, in that way he had no right to do, like Alfie was the only face he knew in the entire unholy world, like Alfie could fuckin' save him, reach inside his body and take all the pain away, maybe, or make it ten times worse. Like whichever option Alfie chose Tommy'd fucking let 'im.

"And?" Tommy says, when Alfie falls silent. God, he really doesn’t remember, does he?

"And I leant down and kissed you, you silly boy. And I came in my pants, like a teenager."

Tommy makes a wet sound that could be a huff, or could just as easily be more tears.

"Weren't my fault," Alfie adds, defensively. "Your mouth was so fuckin' soft, despite what I'd done to you. And you. You mewled like a Siamese kitten..."

Tommy squeezes him, through his pants, seemingly soothed by the hard line he's holding, proof, perhaps, that Alfie is part of this.

"And the second time ... the second time ... fucking hell. Right at the very end. The last time you came. You looked so fucking fucked-out, love," Alfie's hands are roaming now, sliding over the marks he's left all over Tommy's skin. He seeks out the curve of Tommy's throat, presses kisses there. "All the fight gone out of you. Covered in sweat and welts and come, so exhausted you were trembling ... and please, you kept saying please." He cups the back of Tommy’s head, pulls him closer still. "And I didn't know what for. And I kept asking you, please, what, Tom? but you wouldn't answer. Couldn't, maybe. Too far gone to know." He bites gently on Tommy's ear, at the little crease where it joins his jaw, the tiniest sign of age on his otherwise youthful face.

Tommy's hand is working now, struggling to find its way beneath the fabric of Alfie's underwear. "Then what?" he breathes into Alfie's ear.

"And then you said please, Sir."

Tommy's hand stops dead at that.

"I ... I didn't--"

"S'alright, love, you were under, weren’t you? Too fuckin' deep to know." And there might be a tiny part of Alfie that wishes that weren't the case, that would like to hear that word on Tommy's lips again, but not at the risk of a drop. Hurts too much to see Tommy so upset.

He removes Tommy's hand from his trousers and laces their fingers together, pulls them up high enough he can kiss every sticky knuckle.

"You want me to clean you up, love? Tommy barely shakes his head; his fingers clench around Alfie's hip. "Okay, in a little while then."

Ain't right to feel so tender about being stuck to someone with come. To like the smell of their sweat so much you don't wanna wash it off. Hell, he'd sleep like this all night, in jeans and boots an'all, if it gives Tommy the reassurance he'll so surely claim he don't need.

#asks #anon #sub-drop #tommy x alfie #my fic #mistakes #tofie #tomfie #writing

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ssson-of-sparda · 3 years

Text

A TRIP TO THE BEACH - PART 2 (DANTE X FEM!READER)

Summary: When Dante shows up, Patty finally learns how things ended between Y/N and him but that's not the kind of ending she likes. (Part 5 of A Tab To Erase) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Tags: Dante is Tony Redgrave / Love / Angst / Blood and Gore / Minor Character Death / Violence

Author’s note: This is the end! I hope you enjoyed this fan fiction as much as I enjoyed writing it. I can't wait to read your thoughts about it. Is it the end you expected? How did you imagine it? Tell me everything. I'm all ears

Patty dared peeping from above the headrest of the couch when the woman opened the door, definitely curious to see the two adults’ reactions when they would finally see each other – though she still feared Dante’s wrath a little. But when she finally saw them face-to-face, this couple she had been imagining – and rooting for - for weeks, she didn’t care about her friend’s anger or disappointment - He would definitely thank her later - . They looked so perfect, like coming from an episode of one of those telenovelas she loved so much. Dante was towering Y/N perfectly and she was so pretty. And the lighting. Gosh “Like a scene from a movie.” She sighed. If only she could read their minds right now. “There you are, young lady!” Dante declared with a menacing finger as he entered the house “Hi Dante! What are you doing here?” Patty tried to play innocent but there was something in her voice that couldn’t fool Dante. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I never thought this annoying little brat would dare come here … or steal my stuff.” “That’s alright, Dante. We were having fun actually. And at least, that girl dared visit me … unlike someone else.” Dante definitely felt that sting and he knew he deserved it. “How long has it been?” “A while.” He said, pretending to be casual even though he had the right amount of years and months in mind. “And this day never happened. Come on, Patty. Let’s go.” No, no, no. This couldn’t end like that. Patty thought. Not after all this time. “Can I at least finish my tea please?” “ I’ll buy you a tea on the way back to Red Grave. Let’s go!” Dante insisted as he came closer to the girl to grab her by the arm and drag her away from Y/N’s place as fast as possible. “Right. Like I’m going to believe you. You never buy me anything, even when you owe me.” Y/N smiled while Dante sighed deeply. “Damn it.” “ Plus, you still owe me a trip to the beach.” “ Alright. I’ll take you to the beach. You happy? Now let’s go.” He tried to pull her from the sofa but the girl resisted. “ Or … you can let Y/N finish her story.” Patty suggested. Dante glanced at Y/N whom he hadn’t seen go to the kitchen to prepare him a strawberry sundae. “Actually I’d prefer that. Y/N can you continue your story, please?” “ Well, maybe Dante can tell you so that you can finally erase his tab while I’m making this devil a strawberry sundae. Topped with a cherry and two pink wafers, is that it?” “I don’t know. You’re the pro.” He had a faint smile at her that Patty noticed and beamed at. About time. “Where did you stop you damn story?”

A TRIP TO THE BEACH - Part 2

Dante was sitting at his desk, eyes closed, a magazine covering his face while he was listening to some good old school metal on the jukebox he had just acquired when the damn machine starting to sizzle and shake. “You gotta be kidding me.” Dante complained and, with a deep sigh, got up from his chair to kick the jukebox like Y/N had once taught him. “Funny how those machines always need a good kick to work.” When he thought of his beloved girlfriend and realised how late it was, he wondered how the hell she had not arrived yet. It was very dark outside and the clock was striking one. The restaurant should be closed by now and Y/N should have been in his arms at least an hour ago, naked preferably.

Not sure Patty needs to know that.

Worry tied Dante’s stomach in a knot in spite of his sleepy brain screaming at him not to be paranoid. “Relax, Dante. She’s probably helping clean the kitchen or something”, he told himself And yet, tired of repeating this sentence over and over again in his head, he decided to grab his coat and head to the diner. Better be paranoid and look like fool rather than wait here and worry one more second. Plus, he had waited long enough already and he had made a fool of himself in front of Y/N more than once. So what was one more time, huh?

But when Dante arrived at the restaurant and found it empty and dark, he wished he looked like a paranoid fool. But he was not paranoid and he was not a fool. He was terrified and alert in ways he hadn’t been for years. “Please be okay.” He whispered as he entered the place, feeling once again like a little boy hidden in a cupboard, crying for mommy and his brother. A ghastly feeling for someone who had spent years burying his past deep in his armoured heart as a promise … a dying wish.

Dante climbed the stairs quickly, very quickly and yet not quickly enough to his taste, only to stop and freeze at the sight and smell of warm blood on the wooden floor. But there was not just iron and salt flowing to his nostrils, there was this stench, rotting and disgusting, a stench only his demon sense could pick but that would soon be unbearable for humans too, he was sure of it. The stench of decaying corpses.

The son of Sparda never really liked Y/N’s parents. He actually lost almost all sort of respect for them the second they insulted him and made him understand they would never approve of him or of his relationship with their precious daughter. But when he saw them both, drenched in blood and completely ripped apart, their broken bodies lying on the floor of in their bedroom, he couldn’t help but feel sadness and compassion especially for the woman who was standing in the corner of the room, petrified and in tears, her small feminine frame strongly hold in a demonic grip. A nightmarish vision that had been scaring Dante for too long. “Took you long enough… Son of Sparda.” The demon said with a calm and yet menacing cavernous voice that would make anyone tremble in fear. But that wasn’t the sound of his voice that made Dante afraid – because yes he was afraid –

You? Afraid? Rrr, shut up!

It was the sight of the woman he loved so close to that monster’s sharp claws. The half-demon squinted at the devil before him, at his cloaked silhouette hidden in the darkness, trying to hide his fear, turning it into a nonchalant and over-confident mask he knew how to wear better than anything else (except his red leather jacket) but that somehow didn’t look as convincing as usual. “I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong guy, pal. Sparda may have a son. But that's not me.” “Tony, what’s going on?” Y/N’s voice was shaking just like the rest of her body. “It’s alright, baby. I’ll get you out of here. I promise.” He had too. “You can try and pretend to be someone else. But I know who you are. Dante, Son of Sparda. And soon, your blood will flow for what your father did to my master.” Usually, that same old routine would have made Dante scoff and slice that creature in two for he was used to demons coming at him with pathetic threats and silly villain monologues. But today, what was at stake was simply way too important for impulsiveness. “And who would that master be?” “The one true king of the underworld. Mundus.”

Dante had heard that name before, long ago, in something that was now a long-time memory. Mundus was the villain of his favourite bedtime story, the one his father would always tell him and Vergil before going to sleep, when they were nothing but kids tucked in their beds. Mundus. He remembered how that name would make him fidget and jump in anticipation and how his big brother in the bed under his would always kick him through the mattress to make him stop wriggling like a hyperactive goldfish out of water. Mundus, the so-called Prince of Darkness Sparda had cast away and locked in the underworld a long long time ago to free the human world from his diabolical tyranny. Never thought he would have ever heard about him in another context though.

“Oh. That dude. Thought he would be dead by now… like you soon will be” “Cocky, just like that filthy betrayer Sparda.” The demon smiled, showing short pointy black fangs that yet shone in the dim moonlight. “And in love with a human, just like he was. It would be a shame …” He grabbed a strand of Y/N’s (colour) hair to toy with it with a vicious smirk, making the young woman shiver even more. “… if something were to happen to her the same way something happened to your slut mother” Dante felt his jaw clench tight and his nails pierce the flesh of his palms. The rage, it was slowly yet surely eating at him. “Don’t you dare talk about my mother! And don’t you dare lay even just a finger on Y/N!” Dante growled, not realising he had just given his identity up. But the black demon did and with a satisfied smile, he cupped Y/N’s face in between his vile sharp claws to burry his long nose in Dante lover’s soft hair and smell her human perfume that was oh so exquisite to him. An intended provocation and an effective one. “How chivalrous! How noble! I’m sure your father would have said the same thing…” Dante frowned and clenched his fists even tighter, trying to stay put and in control, trying desperately to resist the powerful will to pounce on that demon and impale him on his sword and spill his guts on the floor. He knew he had too because he knew that the reaction he thought so much about was exactly what that monster wanted. He was trying to infuriate him, to make him reckless and stop thinking rationally so that he would have him at a possible advantage when he let his rage have the best of him. Provocation at its finest. A strategy Dante knew all about. “… had he been here when I and my fellow demons tore her apart.” Yes, he knew all about it and yet... “Mundus says farewell, hybrid filth.” He suddenly stopped caring about what he knew.

Dante jumped and with a scream, unsheathed his sword to slash the arm that was holding Y/N. An impulsive move, a mistake he realised only too late, when the demon pierced the soft neck of the one he loved the most with his sharp claws in an attempt to protect himself from the demonic blade. Everything went so quick to Y/N and yet so slow to Dante. She didn’t scream. She didn’t even have time to realise what was going on or to process the sudden pain. She only understood something was wrong when her body hit the floor and she saw Dante’s icy blue eyes widen and stare at her in horror. Then she felt the blood, her blood she was quite certain of it, running along her pale skin covering it in shades of dark red. Dante screamed like never before, like no human could, so loud the walls trembled and the demon slightly bowed down in fear. He screamed with an anger, a rage he didn’t know he was capable of, something so deep and passionate he never thought was in him. Something fiery … something … demonic. It felt like his skin was burning, like there was a ravaging fire spreading, growing in his body, menacing to burst, to combust him. And it almost did. It almost did but it stopped just when Rebellion sliced the head of the demon open, spilling his brains and his blood on the walls behind him. Then, there was a relief that all this was over. The fight. The fire. The fear… No not the fear!

“Y/N” Dante ran to her and quickly pressed her body against his. His hand found her neck to apply pressure on her bloody wound. She was barely conscious but she was still with him. “I’m so sorry, baby. Hold on, I got you.” He kissed her forehead. It was so cold against his lips. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

Dante stayed by her side for what seemed hours to him, holding her tight against him, trying to keep the weakening life in her safe, when finally blue and red lights began to flicker in the bedroom. What happened next was so blurry. All he could make out were a group of men dragging Y/N from his embrace, saying they would take care of her and that he had to let her go. He didn’t know how he did it but he eventually obeyed those men, in spite of his arms trying to reach for her. He followed them- followed Y/N- to the crowded street where the nearby residents were crammed into, whispering and trying to take a peep at what was going on in this usual very quiet neighbourhood. But he didn’t care about them or their judgmental looks. All he cared about was Y/N being taken away in an ambulance. The paramedics didn’t let him in. And in spite of how much he wanted to fight their decision, Dante chose not to. He couldn’t delay them. Y/N’s life depended on time and too much had been wasted already.

But he found her again, like he would always find her, and he spent days waiting for her to wake up, waiting for her beautiful (colour) eyes to open again, for her sweet voice to say she was alright, his hand holding hers in an eternal grip that only her awakening could break, days in which he had to think about what happened, about what could have happened and what will happen. So many hypothesis, each one worse than the last. And when Y/N finally awoke and, with a soft smile that bear no grudges or hatred, said. “Hey handsome.” He did what he thought he should have done days ago. “We need to end this.”

***

Patty’s eyes were glowing with tears as she was staring at Dante without blinking. This was certainly the saddest love story she had ever heard in her entire life. Even Bolero in Spring had never made her feel so much. “You can’t do that!” She declared as if in denial, as if she could change the past. “The story can’t end like this!” “But it is not a story, Patty. This is not some television show made to satisfy a bunch of hopeless romantic little girls. It’s real life. And real life is tough and …” Dante looked at Y/N, at her sad eyes and at the scar she was trying to conceal under a red silk scarf. “What’s done cannot be undone.” “But you loved each other!” The girl was almost furious, shaking her head nervously. “Patty.” Dante said calmly. “And you still love each other, I’m sure of it. I can tell by the way you both tell your story.” “Patty.” Dante repeated with insistence this time. “I won’t have this ending! No way!” She shouted with a deep frown. “It has already ended!” Dante screamed and Patty froze. He had never screamed at her, never in his entire life, even in times when she was incredibly annoying. He had never screamed at her. “It has ended. And neither you nor anyone can change it, okay? If it doesn’t please you, you can leave, wait in the car and go back to your mushy love series.”

There was a pregnant silence in which Patty stared at Dante with a disappointment he had never witnessed. “Y/N was right. You know how to fight demons. But you don’t know how to fight YOUR demons.” And she got up and left the house to do exactly what her beloved friend had told her, meaning wait in the car to go back to mushy love stories, leaving Dante and Y/N alone in the living room with nothing else but a heavy discomfort.

“I’m sorry for making a scene.” “ Well, you always had a flair for the dramatic.” They both had a conspiratorial smile similar to the ones they used to share when they were younger except it was fainter, sadder. “ She read the letter, the one you wrote me” Dante said staring at his hands in discomfort. He couldn’t look at Y/N, not with all the memories rushing in his head. “ I figured.” But she looked at him, excepting deep down he would say something, anything about what happened.”Never thought you would have kept it though.” “ Why not?” “ You never replied.” And there it was, that disappointment Dante well deserved. “I did reply. I just never sent the letter.” Y/N's eyes slightly widened at this unexpected confession. What did he mean by that? “Huh, words of advice. After writing a letter to someone, you need to mail it.” She declared sarcastically, not really knowing how she managed to crack such a joke. Was it a joke? Maybe, because Dante laughed a bit. “ I had no money to buy a stamp.” The girl scoffed. She knew the man before her all to well to know that this was “Bullshit.” But she had missed it, missed him. “What did it say?” “ Same crap I told you at the hospital. How much I was sorry and … You know what? … There.” He opened his red coat to take a crumpled letter from his inside pocket. It was unsealed, stamped –obviously- and her name and address were written on it. “ I hope Devil May Cry will never provide delivery service cause this has clearly arrived way too late.” However she took it in her hands, gathering all her inner strength not to tremble as she could feel all those emotions shaking inside of her. “ Years too late. You can say it.” Dante smiled as he watched the letter he had kept to himself for so many years finally reaching its long-awaited recipient. “I don’t expect you to read it … or open it. You can actually turn it into a paper plane or shove it down my throat if you want. I won’t fight you.” Of course he had to joke, to play it cool but she didn’t mind. She knew it was just one of his defence mechanism and she couldn’t blame him for it. “ So why giving it to me?” Dante shrugged, refusing to admit he did want her to read what his young 19 years old self had to say, what he still had to say. “You can’t stop with the devil-may-care for a second and admit what you truly want, what you truly feel, can you?” “ Fight my demons, huh?” He quoted her and she nodded. “Yes. Would that be so complicated for a ‘menacing devil hunter’ like yourself?” It was her turn to quote him but that quote made him melancholically happy. “ I guess that’s a challenge I still can not face.” “ Or don’t want to” There was a new pause and as they finally looked at each other’s eyes, they knew they would not fix what had been broken years ago today. He was not ready. Not yet anyway. And that was okay. Y/N was patient. She could wait. She could keep waiting. “Goodbye Y/N” Especially when this time a kiss on her forehead and a hand on her cheek felt more hopeful than ever. “Goodbye, Dante.”

And she watched him leave, again, but certain that someday, one day he would come back to her as he always would. After all, he promised.

#DEVIL MAY CRY #DANTE #DANTE X READER #DMC FANFICTION #DEVIL MAY CRY FANFICTION #A TAB TO ERASE #PATTY LOWELL

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wcnderiing · 2 years

Note

What plots do you want for Howard and co.?

For Munday, anonymously ask the mun something you want to know about them, their portrayal, or what they will/won’t write.

Oh boy!! This is a big boy one, so I'm going to go through muse by muse. Long post alert!

EDIT: I realise that this has become me gushing about my muses and I will not be apologising

Howie

Howie has developed a quite astonishing amount of lore over the last five years. He is drastically different to the character he is based on at this point.

My current brainrot exists in his MCU verse, and in that I'd love to explore his time after he develops superpowers.

In his main verse, I'd love to see more UNIT adventures - Howie is a phenomenal tinkerer, and has used that to help UNIT in their endeavours to protect the earth a few times. I would like to explore his skills, going beyond him fitting the trope of being the accident prone genius. He's prone to injury, yes. But he's also a brilliant engineer, and I'd like to look at that more.

I'd also love to explore his mixed feelings towards the Doctor. Unlike a lot of people who look back fondly on their adventures in time and space, Howie really doesn't. So exploring that would be very interesting

Flick

Flick is a ballsy, adrenaline seeking badass with a reckless streak and a strong sense of loyalty. She holds family in VERY high esteem and she would take a bullet for her team, given the need.

That being said, I've not written a hell of a lot of her on my old blogs. As a UNIT military officer and field medic, my writing of her has been limited. I'd like to see who she is outside of work, and how that differs to her being on the job.

So I'd like to see domestic Flick. And Flick as a mum! In her canon, Flick and her future wife will become mums.

Lauri

Ah, Lauri. The ray of sunshine with a serious eye for detail. She had a very bad run in with some silurians a few years ago. But despite the adversity she's faced, she remains stubbornly optimistic and insists on seeing the best in people.

I'd love to explore how she came to UNIT. And I'd love to see her have some moments of bravery. I've toyed with her being a companion for the Doctor before but never fully explored it. I think she'd love to meet some historical figures!

Also: some more cat mum!Lauri. Because she loves her cats and when she leaves UNIT she opens a cat sanctuary.

Anna

The young fallen angel! Lover of floristry, protector of her friends and flighty teleporter!

Okay, I know exactly which period of Anna's life I'd like to write more. I'd like to explore her life as an angel, before she fell to earth and lost her memories. I'd love to see her as the apprentice guardian angel she was, and in contrast, I'd like to see her years after she fell, as the guardian watching over the Bannerman Road kids.

So those are the muses I've written for a few years. Now for the ones that are still very new to me.

Aisling

Aisling is my newest muse! She's an earth fairy, a teacher and a devoted mother. At the moment, i only really write her with @ordinaryheroines on discord, but I moved her over here when I launched this blog in hopes of developing her.

So - I'd like to see her life as a teacher and a botanist. I'd like to see her coming to terms with becoming a single mother. I'd like to see her being fiercely protective of her students. I'd just like to see more of her to be honest, and I'd like to understand more about the world she lives in

Corinne

While new to Tumblr, I like to think I know Corinne very well. She was my D&D character for a few years, and since coming back to Tumblr I've rewritten her story for the Skyrim universe. However that can be "generic fantasy" setting if the interaction calls for it.

For Corinne, I'd like to see moments of self sacrifice for her. I'd like to see moments of unexpected strength for her. I'd love to see her have moments of realising that her history as a servant does not need to dictate her worldview, nor must it dictate her view of herself.

Mostly I'd like to see her being the blind badass and book nerd that she is.

Lucy

Out of everyone on this blog, I think Lucy needs fleshing out the most. The majority of what if written with her is her life as a freshly turned vampire, and her relationship with Rosemary.

That being said, I'd love to see her at points throughout the last hundred years, how she has evolved from silver screen starlet to west end actress, and the friends (and perhaps enemies) she has made along the way

I'm not massively sure what I'd like to do. But I would like to do more of it.

Tom

Honestly? Tom is just here for when I can convince @writingperhaps to get their butt on here. But maybe I'll want to branch him out one day. For now he's the teddy bear medic of UNIT.

#long post tw #beef stroganoff [ooc]

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golddaggers · 4 years

Text

girl crush

pairing: best friend!harry styles x reader;

warnings: none really just a smidge of angst but plenty of fluff.

a/n: so here we are! i just ask of you to go kind on me because this is my first time, ok? and sort of self indulging. anyway. leave a comment/reblog if you do like it!

word count: about 2,8k. it’s a quick little thing.

It was a typical Tuesday, I’d woken up, drank my large-sized cup of coffee, and then spent almost five hours straight staring at my computer screens. Not that all of those hours had been any good, I searched and searched, but still hadn’t cracked just how I was supposed to solve the problem. Hell, about three times I was yelling at the machine, calling it ��bloody stupid’ before trying another approach, still proven worthless.

Lunch had been skipped, I barely took a bite of my grilled sandwich before diving back to the code lines, analysing. I’ve always been so good at cracking things, finishing hard puzzles… At least I needn’t worry about a deadline breathing down my neck, this particular feature would only be out to the end-users on the major release.

Either way, the idea of not being able to come up with a solution bugged me. I could never leave things well enough alone if they were unsolved. It was only when one of my friends texted me about some old high school chick we both used to hate that was pregnant that I realised how late it was. My back hurt from spending too much time sitting down on my chair and I could feel my eyes tired, staring at a computer screen for so many hours wasn’t exactly too healthy.

At least it put the tornado of thoughts I’ve been having for the past couple of weeks to ease. I didn’t want to think about how I had the worst timing ever. Or how I was a big coward for keeping this to myself.

But… I couldn’t just tell him. Falling in love with your best friend seems easy in the movies, in reality, I was overwhelmed with anxiety. Harry and I grew up together, we were inseparable from the first time we shared toys in our old town’s playground. Never before I would’ve thought I’d be here, with butterflies rioting in my stomach when he flashed his green eyes at me. It’d be easy if I could just open up, only opening up meant I could lose our 20 and something years of friendship. That was just too much to lose.

Now it seemed as if I had lost my chance. He’d gone out on a date with a girl. They’d been going out for a while. She was… breathtaking. Golden hair, brown eyes, freckles, and a body I wouldn’t ever have. Harry wasn’t the easiest to commit to someone, not that he was a womaniser or something within those lines… He just had problems. Like we all do, I suppose. He seemed genuinely interested in her, though, and it killed me inside to realise it.

I looked toward a corner where a tiny pink ukulele rested and decided I could do with some singing. So I go over to pick it up, playing a couple of notes to see if it was tuned. It’d been a while since I last took it between my hands. Hadn’t enough time to do anything, if I was being honest.

Sat back on my chair, I take my time to reminisce over a song I heard him humming a few days ago. Harry had been doing the dishes, something he hated, but I’d cooked for the two of us, so it was the least he could do. He laughed like a child all the way to the sink, even put on my pink apron. It wasn’t unusual for him to do them when he was in fact at home - which happened only a few handfuls of weeks at a time.

Leaning against the counter top, I watched him. Then the humming began. One would think a singer would get enough on the stage, well, maybe they do, not him though. In the shower, sending texts, doing the dishes… Harry was always singing something. Low and more to himself. I couldn’t lie, even if I wanted to, that I love when he’s home, his entire being enough to warm up the place.

That night I had been wearing one of his old tees, he leaves them everywhere. And it wasn’t unusual for me to “steal” some for myself, besides being comfy, especially the cotton sweaters, they all smelt like him. Felt homely to be inside them, as if he were sleeping next to me.

“I’ve got a girl crush…” I start, unsure if I’ve got the tone right, “Hate to admit it, but I got a heart rush, it ain’t slowing down.”

My legs are crisscrossed as I rest further back onto the black cushion of my chair. Each note fueled the turmoil growing inside my chest. It was so true, every time I looked at her, the pictures on her Instagram were flawless… I wanted to have everything she had. Because if I did, maybe he would look at me differently, he’d see me in a different light.

The very instrument on my hands had been a gift from him. I have always enjoyed playing the guitar, I came to write a few songs myself… But I’ve never seen it as something I’d want to do for a living. Didn’t like the spotlight very much, not that being friends with a worldwide known popstar helped. Paps seemed to be everywhere. It was just annoying how we couldn’t enjoy a single outing without being awakened with a buzzing phone. My other friends texting me the several headlines saying “Harry Styles has been seen yet again with childhood best friend, could they be dating?”

Got worse when we moved in together. The thing was… We didn’t really live together, yes, the house, more like a mansion if I was being honest, belonged to him and he stayed there whenever he was in London, which, if he was working too much, seldom happened. So no, we didn’t live together. Harry just thought it’d be nice for me to stay there since it was so empty all the time and I only said yes because I needed saving money to pay off the loan I had taken to cover my university tuition. It felt like a lifetime away.

I stayed because I had grown spoiled. At first, I was annoyed he didn’t let me pay for the expenses whenever he was away, I was nowhere rich, but now I made more than enough to cover the bills, even for a house as big as this one, since most of it was inhabited. He insisted on me keeping it, doing fun things I wanted to do, and I shouldn’t worry about anything else. A couple of months later, I saw the appeal to his offer. I also knew my best friend well to know he was a stubborn son of a bitch.

Everything changed when Harry told me about his golden girl. After so many years, we had grown aware of the other’s quirks, as I like to put it, we knew how to deal with one another. My point being was… Harry could be a bit sensitive when I told him about my dates, now it lights a spark of hope within me, back then, however, I brushed it off as him trying to act as a protective big brother. He, on the other hand, never had problems when talking about the people he dated to me. Often I wouldn’t care. This time… It happened right after the fatidic Tuesday.

The pain stung like a sharp edge of a knife against my heart.

“I wanna’ taste her lips, yeah, ‘cos they taste like you… I wanna’ drown myself in a bottle of her perfume...” The notes come out soft, I can hear a little metallic sound as my hands switch the notes and I keep singing the sad lyrics, “Yeah, ‘cos maybe then, you’d want me just as much...”

“Thought I had a nightingale in this room,” His accent slipped through the sentence like butter on a warm toast, “‘lo, love.”

His presence startled me, I almost dropped the ukulele. It was way too early for him to be back home from his date. Part of me wanted to ask how it’d gone and in any other situation, I would’ve. Not tonight, though. Didn’t wanna know if she had kissed him good night. If he gave her his signature green-eyed glare when he wanted something… If he’d asked for another date. My heart wouldn’t be able to cope.

“You scared me.”

“I reckon you said I was fit like a daydream,” He stuffed his chest and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you actually quoting your ex-girlfriend?” Harry rolled his eyes, dismissing my comment completely, “Why are you home already?”

“D’ya want me to leave?”

“You are ridiculous,” I say as I stand up, the Fleetwood Mac tee I had on falling to my mid thighs. It was oversized because it didn’t belong to me, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him, who has a cheeky grin directed at me. “Stop looking. You keep ditching them and I just happen to like these shirts.”

“I didn’t say anything, doll. But I was looking for that one, though I settled for that old pink striped sweater of yours.”

“So it’s with you?” My indignation seeps through, “I went nutty looking for that.”

“Looks better on me anyway.”

“Nonsense.”

The laughter shakes his whole body, yet again I am plowed with our childhood memories, that right there hadn’t changed. Harry still laughed like a little child, a boy with his blue truck toy. I felt warm inside, to watch him like that. To still have, after so long, a friend like he was to me.

Harry goes quiet then, bright green staring right at me. I know what’s coming. It’s happened before - I sang about the boys I liked quite often, I suppose. So it was obvious he wanted to know who was stealing my attention this time. He wanted to know who I was singing about.

“Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Wha’? I didn’t even open my mouth.”

“I know you,” Back on my feet, I grab my plate with the remains of what was supposed to be my lunch and head out to the kitchen. He followed me around like a stray puppy.

The kitchen is an enormous place. Wooden cupboards with just about every piece of china one could dream of, fine crystal glasses for wine and champagne, bowls, plates, even goblets could be found. Inside the several drawers, besides the silver cutlery, I had managed to fold some table sheets I bought at a flea market. Harry would lose his mind if he knew where they came from. On the left corner, a tall two-door grey fridge, with a shopping list on its door to remind me that I needed to go out tomorrow to get things. Next to the two basin sink, was an electric cooktop that had become my best friend, I loved to cook there, staring out the window - the yard was beautiful, green grass all year long, though during spring the most gorgeous flowers blossomed. I loved that place very much.

Right in the middle was an island, my lone cactus trying to make it a little less plain. Which wasn’t that hard, the dark marble surface glimmered under the led light.

After I threw out the sandwich and put the plate on the sink, I started pacing around to gather things for dinner, fresh tomatoes to make the sauce with homegrown onions and garlic. I liked cultivating my food. I got flour, eggs, olive oil, and salt. It was all I needed to make the dough.

I could still feel his eyes on me, as I moved effortlessly through his kitchen, collecting everything I needed.

“What do you want?”

“You’re too stressed,” Harry says, standing up straight and standing next to me, “Is it about the boy you were singing about? Or girl. I dunno.”

“Seriously?” Can’t help but shake my head, “That’s your approach? ’M not telling you, H.”

“Oh, you’re keepin’ secrets from me. That’s new.”

He grabs the knife on my hand, starting to chop the onion into tiny cubes. Always skillful with his hands, he was.

“‘M not keeping secrets. It’s just none of your business.”

“Ouch.” Harry pours the onion into the pan, stealing the tomatoes to start chopping them as well. I focused on the dough. “You’re so adamant about not telling me I’ll start thinking it’s me.”

The entire world stills for me when he says that out loud, and I don’t know what to say, so I keep cracking the eggs, pouring them over the flour then adding, by eye, what I considered to be enough of olive oil. At last, I put two pinches of salt into the mix.

My silence seems to annoy him further.

“C’mon, it was a joke.” He tries, gently grabbing my arm and I see myself having to stop mixing, “I really want to know, though, have to make sure you’re with someone worthy of you.”

“Why?”

Couldn’t look him in the eye, I have them glued to the bowl with the sticky batter. The hand on my arm sneaks to my back, he’s warm and I tremble under his touch, my breath comes out a bit harsher.

Harry takes a deep breath before answering, “I care about you, bunny.”

“Is that all it is?” Now I dare to look up, to find those emeralds. I liked quite a lot to look at them, they were akin to shiny jewelry and I was the dazzled child. Right now they showed nothing but a shade of confusion.

“What else?”

A tightness in my chest grows, I know right away I am about to cry and I don’t want to. Don’t want to fall apart in front of him. In the middle of cooking. When things seemed to be going amazing for the two of us. Despite my most intimate wishes, I ended up doing just that, my dirty hands falling limp as he held me in his arms, asking over and over what had happened.

His chin rests on the top of my head and I can hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. My bottom lip is quivering. I was so tired of being tough, I just wanted to be loved. To be loved by him.

“I need to tell you something,” A sniff makes me sound whiny, “Promise me you won’t be mad.”

“Never,” Harry speaks so quietly I believe him. “Could never be mad at you, bunny.”

“Okay…”

I bring his much bigger hands into my own. They warm up under his touch. If I’m being honest, I warm up completely. Body and soul. He gives a soft squeeze, urging me to speak. It’s needless to say that he’s anxious, always being the curious one between the two of us.

“The song… Well, um, I was singing for you.” It was as quiet as a whisper, “I like you.”

“Don’t be silly.” His face goes serious, “You’re not kidding me, are ya?”

“Do you think I would?”

There’s a lump at the bottom of my throat, tears still falling. I didn’t have a problem being vulnerable with him, or opening up - now I was embarrassed. I would apologise if I hadn’t felt his warm lips start kissing my salty-teared cheeks, only to finish up with a chaste kiss on my own.

“What are you doing?” I pull back, shocked that he’d kissed me. “Do you...”

“I am so glad you’ve said first, fancying you for the longest time hasn’t been easy. But I suppose it gave me quite the inspiration.”

“You’ve written about me?”

“More times than I am proud to admit.”

This time it’s me who kisses him, standing on the tip of my toes, losing my fingers into the soft curls. It seemed very much unreal to me. He never struck me as the type to keep feelings in check or to himself. I should’ve seen something. Or maybe I did and didn’t want to face that the best person I could’ve fallen for was right in front of me.

Then I think about her. The golden-haired beauty. She wouldn’t be too pleased.

“She’s just a friend, bunny.”

“Reading my thoughts now, Styles?”

“Nah, just know you too well.”

“Yeah, I guess you do.”

Harry lifts me, kissing me again. And I can’t help but feel whole. Like a bit of me that was missing had been set on its place.

Bless the will to play a song.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #best friend!harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry x you #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #a smidge of angst #just a smidge #gorgeous english boy

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

Text

All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 7 ~The Holiday Feeling~

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WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in Christmas Treats ...

After Annalise had left for a night out of bowling and dinner with Willie, she'd put on her new pyjamas, a long coat so no one in the street would notice what she was wearing underneath when she walked to Jamie's cottage and a pair of Ugg boots. All the while, her stomach did a mad flip-flopped, and she continually found herself staring into space, almost tripping on the way to Jamie's house.

Obviously, she hadn't finished staring into space because when Jamie opened the door after she'd knocked, sending her hurtling back to the present, she was speechless. Rollo dashed out of the house and circled her happily, jumping on her.

Jamie grinned and opened the door wider. "Sassenach! Get in here! We have a guest."

"Oh!?" I thought we're alone.

She pulled the coat tighter and patted Rollo's head. She remembered Annalise's word not to brace herself too hard, took a deep breath, relaxed and stepped into Jamie's house.

What she saw next, took her by surprise.

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"Oh, it's alive. I thought it's a toy. What's that?" Claire asked as she stepped into the cottage and saw movement in the shoebox on the floor. Rollo flopped himself down beside it like he was the keeper and protector. "Is this the guest you're talking about?"

"One of them." Grinning, Jamie shut the door and followed her gaze. "Can't ye tell what's in the box? Harry found the poor wee thing mewling under the bushes in the park. It cannae be more than a week old. Probably wandered away from the litter and got lost. It's good Harry found her when he did. I dinnae think it would have survived tonight in this cold."

"It's a kitten!" Placing the paper bags she had on the rug, she got on her knees, picked up the ball of grey fur and held it against her chest. Half of its body was cocooned into a red child's sock, and its tiny head had a comical covering. "Goodness, it's even got a hat with earholes. I've never seen anything like this."

Jamie beamed. "Not my doing. Harry brought it all bundled up like that already."

"Who's Harry? Another sibling?" she asked, nuzzling her face into the tiny furry body before carefully depositing it back into the shoebox.

Ach, Harry! He was here a minute ago. "No. A mate. He's here somewhere. I invited him to stay for dinner. Give me a sec." He'd been distracted by Claire's arrival, he'd forgotten all about his unexpected visitor.

Jamie left Claire in the living area and went to look for his friend. When he felt a draft of cold air, he went into the kitchen thinking Harry probably went to have a peek at his back garden.

He poked his head out the back door. "Harry!" he called out. There was no answer. Where the bloody hell has he disappeared to?

All throughout the day he'd been looking forward to tonight after he'd spent the afternoon putting up a Christmas tree he'd bought at a tree farm and decorating it with ornaments belonging to his grandmother from his mother's side. And of all days, Harry had to drop by. Not that Jamie wasn't glad to see him, but the timing was terrible as spending some alone time with Claire was on top of his agenda. Nevertheless, he'd invited the Englishman to stay for dinner. But where the hell is he?

He scoured the yard, but he couldn't find Harry. Suddenly feeling the cold, he slipped back into the kitchen to check the pot roast. It was already ready after he'd left it in a slow cooker to cook all day.

Earlier this morning, after he'd dropped by at Claire's B&B cottage and kissed her, it had been a mammoth task to leaving her side, so he'd kept himself busy all day to make time go by faster. It was becoming apparent spending time away from her was starting to feel like the tension on a bungee cord. The longer the time they spent apart, the greater the urge to see her. And the line felt like it was getting shorter, like his threshold for not being with her was diminishing. If Harry was joining them for dinner, he hoped he wouldn't stay too long after dessert.

"Jamie?"

He glanced up to find Claire holding up a bottle of red wine.

"I splurged a bit. I hope this bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon will go with whatever you're cooking?"

Perfect! Putting the teatowel down, he grinned and approached her.

"It's a classic," he said, taking the bottle from her hand and putting it on the counter. He pulled her into his arms and brushed his lips against hers. "I'm sorry Sassenach, I havenae given ye a proper greeting."

She smiled against his mouth. "Where's your friend?" she asked when he was done kissing her.

He pulled away and ran a hand through his hair. "God knows! He probably left. Harry does that all the time. I've invited him to Lallybroch for tea countless of times, but he’s always refused. I guess he's just not a people person." Jamie decided not to worry about it. "Hungry?"

"Very." She glanced past his shoulder. "What are we having?"

"Pot roast."

"Hmmm, nice. Smells heavenly. Need help?"

"No, I have everything under control. Want something to drink?" Jamie asked, taking out wine glasses, plates and cutleries.

"Not just yet. I had a cuppa before I left the cottage." She smiled at him. "I love your home, especially that fireplace. Is it original?"

He checked the roasted root vegetables in the oven for doneness and shoved them back in again. "Aye, it's an original. This is a crofter's cottage from the eighteenth century, and I've salvaged most of the original fixtures and fittings."

"Love the Christmas tree too. Did you put it up today?" she asked glancing around the kitchen, peering out of the window and touching his collection of fridge magnets.

"Aye, I did."

"Those antique Christmas ornaments are stunning and much better than those plastic baubles you get in shops. I have a few antique ornaments myself. Just too bad, our London flat is not big enough to accommodate a proper Christmas tree." She lifted the lid off the slow cooker and took a whiff. "Mmm, this smells lovely."

He straightened and glanced at what she was wearing. "Sassenach?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why are ye still wearing yer coat? Are ye cold? I thought I put enough wood in the fire."

She grinned. "Oh, this. It's a surprise. Hang on a minute." She turned her back to him, and he waited with anticipation, watching her movements of undoing her coat. If she was wearing a negligee under that coat, he knew he would have a heart attack, and dinner would definitely be put on hold if not cancelled. But he rubbished his thoughts immediately, knowing she wasn't that type of lass. "Close your eyes!" she instructed, and he did.

"Ye're killing me."

"Patience!"

"Are ye naked under yer coat?" he teased.

"You wish!"

He heard rustling followed by footsteps.

"Right, you can open them now."

He slowly opened his eyes, and his gaze immediately landed on the front of her top. It was a Rudolph the Reindeer's face applique complete with a protruding shiny big nose. She was a bundle of red, wearing red fleece pyjamas with plaid bottoms, and her feet were covered in thick, red woollen socks. He laughed out loud.

"Wait for this. You haven't seen anything yet." Claire fiddled with something from under the hem and pulled the reindeer antler's hood from behind. The reindeer's nose on her front lit up, and the antlers stood lopsided on her head. The hoodie was far too big for her, and it hid one eye. "Ho, ho, ho!" she intonated in a low voice.

He chuckled and pulled her against him. "Ho, ho, ho, indeed. Where did ye get this? This is something for Christmas morning. It's almost as ridiculous as the Christmas jumpers."

"I know, right? As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to get it. Bought it today in Inverness. I thought since we've been doing all sort of Christmassy things together, I'd stick with the theme."

"That red nose is not going to keep flashing like that the whole evening, will it? It's very distracting."

She pressed something from under the top. "Nope. The show's over."

He arched an eyebrow and decided to tease her. "Really? What's underneath that top?"

She blushed, but the smile never left her face. "A hungry tummy."

"Brilliant! Shall we eat then?"

"Sure! I'll help set up the table."

Claire rattled off the things she did with Annalise that day. He was glad her friend had agreed to stay until Three Kings which would buy him more time getting to know Claire better. Jamie didn't want to think of the day when she would go back to London, even though it had been lurking all day at the back of his mind. Watching her work beside him in the kitchen, he was glad she felt comfortable and right at home. He wanted to make good memories with her just in case this was all they would ever have.

They served dinner like they'd been doing it together for years, pouring red wine, plating food he'd prepared and chatting the entire time. They sat opposite each other so Jamie could see every blush, expression and emotion that crossed her face, appreciating the fact she had an appetite, a sense of humour and took a keen interest in his work, life and Broch Mordha. He might have sounded a tad bit like a salesman trying to sell a lifestyle in a remote Highland village, and if she noticed, she didn't give any hints.

When they touched the delicate subject of his PTSD, he realised it was easier to talk about it this time. Claire spoke with refreshing candour, even suggesting alternative healing such as meditation and acupuncture, which he liked and made a mental note to look into it.

Throughout their meal, Claire spoke of her childhood, and in exchange, he talked about his family. From time to time, he would reach out to squeeze her hand so he could see the blush blooming on her cheeks or kiss her, to see the shy smile spreading across her face. Every second with her was a pleasant discovery, and he knew what a lucky bastard he was. How she was without a boyfriend was beyond him but thankful that she didn't have one.

After dinner, they cleared the table and did the dishes. And when Jamie took out Rollo for a short exercise, Claire fed the kitten with a wee bottle Harry had left him.

They took their coffee, a box of chocolate Claire loved, and the unfinished bottle of red wine into the living room. As Jamie put another log into the fire, Rollo curled up next to Claire. It was quite apparent, he wasn't the only one smitten. Smiling, he plopped down next to her and turned on the TV to watch Home Alone.

..........

When the film credits started rolling in the end, Jamie turned off the volume and stretched. He glanced over to Claire just in time to see her unwrapping a Ferrero Rocher chocolate. When she realised he was looking at her, she offered him the already unwrapped sweet.

He shook his head and smiled. "So, what do ye want to do?"

The room filled with silence as she exaggeratedly contemplated, tapping her chin and scrunching her nose while rolling the chocolate in her mouth.

His eyes dropped to the delicate lines of her jaw. The smooth, pale skin of her neck and the movement of her throat as she swallowed wreaked havoc with his concentration. He had a very vivid image of what they could do, and they involved running his tongue along the neckline of that ridiculous pyjama top. Since that option would probably send her running out the door, he quickly dismissed the idea. "More movies?" he suggested.

"No. Had enough. Do you know how to play poker?"

"Do I know how to play poker?" He laughed out loud. "I'm a master at the game."

Her eyes lit up. "You have a deck of cards?"

"Aye, I will go and get them." He got up from the sofa and headed towards a desk in the corner of the room. "Always love a game of poker."

"Oh, good. I haven't played for ages."

"What do we play for?"

She cleared the coffee table and crossed her legs. "We'll play for pennies, how about that?"

"I dinnae think I have any loose change."

"We'll think of something else. I'm dealing."

He handed her the deck of cards, put on some classic Christmas song, and then refilled their glasses. He sat beside her and watched with amazement as her fingers expertly flew through the cards with ease, shuffling with lightning speed. While concentrating on his hand, he wondered where she learned how to deal and surmised probably her uncle, the same man who taught her to play pool.

"Alright, here we go, dealer's choice. Five-card stud, ante up."

He glanced up at her. "Wait! We havenae decided what we're playing for."

"Oh, I forgot. You said you don't have any loose change."

"Maybe we ought to play for the family jewels."

She slapped him on the thigh. "Ha-ha! You funny man!"

His lips twitched. "Weel, any ideas?"

"Can't think of one at the moment."

"Wait a minute ...I have a verra interesting one."

Claire glared at him. "If you're thinking of strip poker, forget it."

He laughed out loud. "No, I didnae mean that. Although I wouldnae mind that." When she arched an eyebrow at him, he grinned. "I meant we'll play for favours."

She bit her lower lip. "Favours? What kind of favours?" she asked suspiciously.

"The first to win three hands gets a free favour from the other. It can be used at any time, like a voucher per se."

Her face suddenly became animated. "Can you use the favour for anything? How about the rules?"

He grinned. "Nae rules and ye can redeem yer favours on anything. Anything at all."

The challenge lured her in like a true gambler following the scent of a big stake. "Very well then, we're playing for favours."

He smothered the jubilant smile threatening to surface and quickly fixed his expression into poker-face, almost licking his lips with glee when she'd agreed.

She dealt, and he almost pumped his fist in the air at the obvious outcome, but he remained silent, watching her replace one of her cards.

After a while, he laid down his cards. "Flush."

"Cool. Two queens. Your deal." Her expression remained inscrutable. God, her poker face is good!

Jamie had to give her credit for keeping her emotions under control. Whoever taught her to play, taught her well and if it wasn't for his past experience, he felt in his guts she'd be one hell of a player to beat. Next, she threw down a pair of aces and yielded gracefully to his three twos.

"Alright, one more hand to go," he announced, subduing the mirth in his voice.

"My deal. I can count, ye ken," she said, imitating his accent. He kept his face impassive as he watched her dainty fingers flitting over the cards. "Care to share where you learn how to play poker?"

He inspected his hand casually. "Played a lot with my unit during my SAS days. Beats sitting around and twiddling my thumbs during long intervals."

"My uncle taught me," she shared. "As well as backgammon and chess."

He threw in a card and replaced it. "I have backgammon and chessboards if ye feel like playing for another time. I'm quite good at both games, in case ye're up for a challenge."

She let out an unladylike snort when she laid down her cards, displaying straight as victory gleamed in her eyes.

Jamie almost felt sorry for her. Not quite but almost.

He whistled low and shook his head. "Good hand." This time he allowed himself to smile. "But, sorry lass, it's no' good enough." He threw his cards down, showing four aces and then cockily stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on the sofa. "Nice game, though."

She gasped and looked at him with those beautiful golden orbs. "Jamie, the probabilities of four aces in five-card stud are ..." Her eyes widened. "Oh my word, you didn't!"

"What?"

"Why you cheeky sod ..."

"What, Sassenach?"

"Don't Sassenach me. You cheated!"

"No!"

"Yes, you did!"

He shook his head in feigned horror and tried to look offended. "Och, how could ye think that? Surely not! I ken ye're verra good at it, but this is all on luck."

Her pretty eyebrows slammed together. "No way you can get those four aces unless you palmed the cards. Admit it, because I was thinking of doing it myself, but I refrained from doing so!"

"Don't ye think yer accusation is a tad bit harsh?"

"Jamie, you cheated! I know you did. I can't believe you cheated on our date night. Oh, my God! How could you?"

"I did no such thing."

"Jamie!"

"No cheating occurred, Sassenach." He straightened up from his sitting position and smiled. "Now about that favour I won ..." But his voice trailed off when she abruptly stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "Sassenach?"

"You cheat!" Without warning, she propelled herself over the coffee table and into his arms. Air whooshed out of him as she toppled him back onto the sofa and slipped a hand under the sleeves of his sweatshirt, looking for the suspected hidden cards. Jamie grunted as the full weight of Claire landed on him, her intent on finding proof of foul play resolute. He attempted to regain his balance, but she shifted her attention somewhere else, making him fall back again. When her hands slipped into his pants pocket, he realised if she delved any deeper, she wouldn't come up empty-handed. Ah, sweet Jesus! With no other options, he flipped her onto her back and pinned both hands above her head.

The tie holding her hair somehow became undone during the struggle, causing her chocolate brown curls to spring forth and tumble down, and a few unruly locks to settle on her face. Jamie stared at the snapping golden eyes peeking between the strands, filled with determination despite his more considerable strength. Her chest heaved against her ridiculous top, the appliquéd Rudolf the reindeer staring mockingly at him. Without meaning to, his weight forced her thighs apart, and he wondered if she was aware of both their predicament. Or at least his.

Jamie knew he would be in deep trouble if he remained where he was, as she continued to wriggle under him.

"I know you're hiding the cards somewhere. I wasn't born yesterday, you know! Admit you cheated and I will forget this ever happened."

"Will ye keep still, Sassenach" he muttered. "Ye're torturing me."

She stuck out her bottom lip and blew a hard breath, the wayward curl lifting and blowing sideways, clearing her line of sight. "That's your conscience doing that. Did you know there's a special place in hell for cheaters?"

He muttered a curse under his breath. "Don't ye ever think of the repercussion to yer actions? Ye cannae just tackle a man like that."

"Oh? What are you going to do about it? Tell Santa to put me on his naughty list?"

Her body suddenly started to shake when she burst into fits of laughter at her own words, causing the heat in his groin to surge through his body like a wildfire gone out of control. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! His blood buzzed in his head like a swarming fog, and even though he tried to shift all his thoughts on the fat man sliding down the chimney and getting stuck halfway, all he could only think of was the soft body beneath him. He tried not to breathe and held his body in a tight muscle lock and prayed Claire wouldn't make any more sudden big movements; otherwise, he was going to explode like a schoolboy and look like a glaikit idiot.

But when the realisation of his plight swiftly dawned on her, her mouth formed a comical O, and her face turned bright red, her previous intent on extracting a confession of his cheating, dissipating.

"Jamie?" Her voice was husky.

He swallowed hard and ignored the fact he had a big fat boner wedged between them. "Did I hurt ye? Didnae mean to be so rough."

"No. I'm fine."

"Are ye sure?"

She smiled, and he inhaled deeply to regain his composure. She smelled like shampoo and flowers and just a hint of fruit flavoured lollies, and he could just about see the pulse palpitating on her neck. Their position made his erection harder, and the way she was looking at him wasn't helping at all.

"You're a big lad," she gulped.

Ah, shite! "And ye're not helping," he said hoarsely, tamping down a groan.

"Shall I go?"

"No!" He took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Just be still for a moment, aye?"

"Alright."

They laid still for a while looking at each other.

Carefully, he let go of her wrists above her head and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I can stare at ye like this for hours and never tire of it," he whispered. She smiled, and he kissed the smooth line of her jaw. When she tilted her head back, his lips trailed down of their own accord, bowing his body over hers as he worked his way to the side of her neck.

Hard as he was, he didn't move against her. He wanted her to feel safe and everything to be on her terms, letting her know this attraction went beyond sex. He held on to his control with a mental vice grip and simply appreciated the moment.

His combed his fingers through her curls, feeling the softness of it in his hand as he kissed her softly, never demanding or pushing even if it pained him a lot.

He heard Rollo sigh from somewhere in the house and the crackling of the fire in the hearth. He almost shot out the sofa as small hands tentatively explored his chest and shoulders, before sliding around his neck and up through his hair. Then they moved down his side and waist before her palms settled over the ridges of his stomach. He loved the small sounds she made at the back of her throat and the softness against every part of him that was hard. Every movement and sigh she made, her scent drifted and surrounded him, a heady pheromone, pulling him in closer.

When her hands slipped under his sweatshirt and settled at his lower back, his breath broke and went ragged, and an instant electric tension rose between them, turning their soft, playful kisses heated and more urgent.

As much as it hurt him to do so, he tore his lips away and looked into her eyes. "We dinnae have to do anything ye dinnae want, Sassenach. We can stop right now," he whispered, his voice sounding oddly gruff in his ears. He felt his cock protesting against his boxer shorts, but he ignored the mounting discomfort in his groin.

She shook her head. "No, I don't want to stop. Kiss me again."

Relief slammed through him as a ton of weight lifted off his back. "Sassenach, are ye sure?"

She nodded.

He was about to kiss her again when a gentle push of her hands on his chest stopped him.

"I've never done this before," she whispered.

"What do ye mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "I meant sex!"

Ah, Christ! A virgin living in London! How is that possible? Even for Broch Mordha, a virgin was a rarity. He shut his eyes for a few heartbeats, and when he opened them again, suddenly she looked unsure, almost embarrassed, and he felt she needed him to step up. He gave her a slow smile to put her at ease. "Do ye come with a user's manual? Never been with a virgin before."

Her face broke into laughter, and the tension eased a bit. "No! And before you start having all sorts of notions about virgins, I'm not all that naive. I have a fair idea of how it suppose to happen."

"Weel, no crash courses needed then," he joked before his face turned serious. "But why me, Sassenach?"

She gave him an unwavering look, her chin tilting up slightly. "Because I've never felt like this before."

Neither had he, but the wee voice in the back of his head reminded him this lass was the type of lass you brought home to introduce to your parents. Getting involved with her on a deeper emotional level wouldn't bode well for both of them as her life was in London, and he belonged here. He didn't want to hurt her. She deserved a man who could live in her world without falling down to his knees and having one of his episodes. But the gravitational pull between them was unrelenting. He needed her badly, but his conscience compelled him to offer one more out. One more, before he lost sight of the right thing to do.

"We can just continue kissing ...nothing needs to happen," he rasped, brushing their lips together. "Just say the word, Sassenach. I promise ye I wouldnae mind. I'm perfectly happy just to kiss."

Claire's breath caught as she scrutinised him, the weight of what could follow once they'd stripped each other's clothes written in her eyes. Probably in his, too. "I want this Jamie ... I'm ready."

He studied her for a long while, before making up his mind and nodding. "Wait here."

Getting up, he grabbed some blankets and throw cushions from the sofa and laid them out on the floor. And then he went to retrieve some condoms from the bedroom. After a couple of minutes fussing and finally satisfied with his handiwork, he picked Claire up and gently carried her by the fireplace. Though the fire was already slowly dying down, the embers still glowed, lending the room a cosy feel and warmth.

Claire looked up at him and beamed. "Well, I suppose this is the part where you take off your top."

He laughed out loud despite his balls almost on the verge of mutiny. What supposed to be a tense and awkward moment, was turning out to be fun. He didn't need telling twice. Grinning, he dragged his shirt over his head and was hovering over her under a split second. She looked mightily impressed as she pulled him down. "Wow, never seen anyone take their shirt off so fast," she breathed as he pressed his lips on the hollow of her throat.

"Ye should see how fast I can get yers off," he muttered against the crook of her neck.

She laughed and gently pushed him away. "I don't want my Rudolph top damaged. I'll take my own clothes off, thank you very much."

With his heart in his throat, he watched her stand and peeled off her pyjama bottom first. She had her back to him, and he figured she was trying to hide her blush. And when she took off her top next, his cock roared back to life, and he hurriedly followed suit, taking off his sweatpants, his eyes fixed on the smoothness of her long legs. Leaving her red bra and knickers on, she swiftly slipped next to him, her teeth clattering and her beautiful pale skin covered in goosebumps.

He gathered her immediately under him, rubbing her arms and the side of her body. "How's that? Still cold?" he asked, looking down at her.

She bit her lip and nodded. "Feeling a lot warmer now."

"Christ, ye smell so good."

"And you're so hot." When she realised what she just said, her eyes widened in horror. "I mean you're like a heating pad."

He grinned at her. "I know what ye meant, but I'll take the other meaning any day. It will do wonders for my ego."

She slapped his arm. "Your ego is perfectly intact, I can assure you."

He smiled as he skimmed his hand up her side and gently cupped her breast, waiting for her reaction. When he felt her back arch a little, he brought down his lips to hers, gently thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She let out a tiny whimper, opening and taking each thrust, conscious of her fingernails digging into his shoulders.

He reminded himself to take it slow and make it memorable for her, but when she parted her knees and allowed him to settle between her thighs, he groaned out loud and changed position, so the tip of his erection pressed right into her through their undies. The slow tease of their movements was maddening, and he wondered if she was aware of it. His cock was straining against her where it would slide in effortlessly if there had been nothing between them.

He felt her hooked her thumbs at the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down. He helped her by kicking them off while putting his fingers under the edge of her knickers. He paused with bated breaths, waiting for her permission, and when she lifted her hips, he groaned and kissed her long and thorough, pushing the flimsy scrap down her thighs.

He nipped at her lips, then trailed down with his tongue to nibble her neck, his fingers unsnapping the clasp of her bra. Claire flailed her head, seemingly unable to verbalise the reactions her body was experiencing, and he watched her with fascination. Emboldened, he cupped the weight of her breast, rolling her nipple, then gently tweaking it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh, God Jamie ..."

"It's good?"

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut and rolling her lips in.

Jamie lowered his mouth and sucked her nipple, his tongue flicking and never letting up the frantic pace, his fingers trailing along her inner thigh, causing goosebumps to erupt on her skin. When he touched her core, she was already wet with need, making his head spin out of control. Fighting the urge to take her now, his index finger traced her folds, rubbing her wetness on her nub. The delicate hitch of her breath hit his ears the exact time his mouth abandoned her breast.

He met her gaze and sank into the amber depths of her eyes, so far gone with pleasure they turned to molten gold, full of feminine demand that battled past all obstacles and shattered them to pieces. The raw need etched in her features told Jamie she was past the point of no return, that she wanted him now and he knew the feeling.

"Sassenach ...are ye sure?"

"Oh, sweet Mother of God, if you stop now ..." her voice trailed off in a hiss.

"I need to hear the words."

"For God's sake, I want you, Jamie. Now."

Knocking back the reluctance to untangle himself from her, Jamie reared back and reached out for the condom he'd left beside the cushion. He quickly sheathed himself in stretched latex and prowled up her body, settling between her thighs and muffling her requests to hurry with a hard kiss.

"The first time ye come, I want it to happen while I'm sunk so deep in ye, ye'll never forget who broke it in," he muttered, words muffled by her lips.

"Oh, dear God ..." she moaned.

"Open yer legs wider for me, Sassenach."

She nodded, her fingers running over his cheekbones, lips, chin, as she hiked her knees up. Their breaths raced out of their mouths as he reached down and guided his cock to her opening. Slowly, he pushed inch by inch, allowing her to get used to his girth. When he was finally buried to the hilt, he collapsed and dropped her forehead to hers.

When he got his breath back, he braced himself on his elbow and looked into her eyes. "Did I hurt ye?"

"Just a little. I hardly noticed. Keep moving." She wrapped her legs around his hips, her fingernails scraping his back lightly on the way down to his arse, which she gripped with hesitation at first, then with more confidence.

With a groan, his hips started to roll of their own volition. He held his breath as heat threatened to flare up in his balls. "Oh fuck, ye feel so good."

"Don't stop ..." she gasped frantically moving her hips against him.

With a hand on her bottom, he lifted her hips effortlessly and drove himself deeper, the last shreds of his control dissolving as he fell on top of her like a dying man. His mouth travelled over hers, and she responded in kind, their tongues twining, their bodies moving in synchronicity to the erotic rhythm and dance. The root of his erection grated against her core and her hips lifted to meet his thrusts, her breaths coming out in pants. It was so breathtaking to watch her pleasure, and what his body is doing to hers, it constricted his heart.

When she dropped her legs from his hips to spread them wider, she let out a strangled moan, and his cock bore down, working her nub. He angled his body for more friction, watching and always conscious of her reaction. When her back arched, and her right leg extended further out, they descended into what felt like wanton madness. She whimpered and raised her hips to meet his thrusts, her inner walls beginning a slow, tight suction of his cock. Jamie was almost afraid to look at her, worried the sight of her would make him lose his restraint and come before her. But it was an impossibility to keep his eyes away when she looked so beautiful beneath him.

He watched her writhe and finesse flew out the window. He fell on her, grunting, sucking in huge gulps of air, pushing her thighs open as he drove faster, listening to her moans of his name, treasuring the throaty awe of them in his ears and all around him. Their mouths joined and gorged, her hands slapping down on his buttocks to pull him in deeper and push him faster. All thoughts of logic, questions and issues suspended as he dipped his head, lowered his mouth over her jiggling tits and continued to pump like a wild beast.

Her body suddenly stilled, before trembling violently underneath him in a climax accompanied by a soft moan, her inner walls squeezing his cock tight. Cursing under his breath, he yanked her legs up and drove himself with a few more hard thrusts to his own peak, a loud groan reverberating from his chest and echoing into the room. He squeezed his eyes shut as his body exploded and spilt his seed. He went from being a bundle of tensed nerves to being utterly devoid of it.

Utterly spent, he collapsed on top of her, gathering her against him, almost smothering the air out of her. His insides were totally decimated, mind blown and floated down like confetti.

Moments later, when he lifted his head and searched her eyes, he couldn't stop the widest grin from spreading across his face. And when she returned it with a twinkle in her eye, he fell irreversibly and completely in love with Claire Beauchamp.

..........

The next morning, Jamie got up extra early to let Claire sleep while he did a few chores around the house. He'd kept her up all night, making love and sometime in the early hours of the morning, he'd carried her to his bed. Sleep had been evasive, but this time the cause hadn't been his nightmares or one of his episodes. His thoughts had been filled with the future and its uncertainties instead of being plagued with the past. There were still some niggling doubts lurking in the recesses of his mind, and one of them was his concern when Claire returned to London.

How often had he asked himself in the past twenty-four hours if he could live in London to be closer to her? But now that he had an arboricultural business with Willie, it was doing very well and planning on expanding. He was excited about the community projects he was involved in and committed himself to working long-term. With his episodes and PTSD, the idea of being surrounded by busy streets, chaos, traffics, loud noises, and shoes on the pavement rather than fresh earth paralysed a piece inside him.

Jamie had spent the rest of the night staring into the darkness, wondering what the hell he was going to do. Eventually, some choices have to be made. And he wasn't sure if love would be enough for either of them and if Claire felt the same way.

Taking that leap would only end in heartache and worsen his condition. There had to be some other way. But he couldn't ask her to give up her life and career in London. Or could he? Could he give her what she needed? He shook his head and pushed the bugging thoughts away. They still had the time, and he should focus on that.

After letting Rollo out and bringing in more logs for the fireplace, he made some coffee, answered his emails and read some news on the internet. When his phone chirped and realised it was from his sister Jenny, he groaned. He decided to answer and get it out of the way.

Jenny: I heard all about the lass you're seeing. A city lass, no less. Have you gone mad? Haven't you learned your lessons?

Ah, fuck, I don't have time for this.

Jamie: Enjoy your holiday, and don't worry about me. It's just a winter fling. OK? She's on holiday, and she'll be going back to London. Soon. Happy now?

He left his phone on the kitchen counter and shook his head. This wasn't the text conversation he should be having about Claire. But if it would keep Jenny from busting his balls of all days, he'd play along just to pacify her. He slipped into the bedroom, and when he saw Claire still asleep, he decided to have a shave and shower.

After he was done, he walked into the bedroom and noticed the bed was already made. He searched for Claire, humming under his breath and planning what breakfast he should prepare.

"Sassenach?" he called out.

No answer.

She probably went back to her cottage to get a change of clothes, he thought.

He shrugged and went ahead and prepared breakfast, singing along to the song playing on the radio. All I Want For Christmas Is You.

Dear Readers,

Thanking you all for reading and leaving your feedback on the previous chapter. Very much appreciated. It's crunch time now with my writing and preparation for Christmas, but thank God, I'm still on track.

Anyway, I hope this story has given you Christmas joy so far and looking forward to reading what you thought of my latest update. Sending you best wishes and positive vibes. Take care of yourselves and until next time, much love. x

#melodyheart #all I want for christmas is you #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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senorarelojes · 3 years

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Fic: Heaven (1/1)

Thanks to @pinksyndication‘s recent take on a femslash version of Dilder, this idea came up. It’s a sort of sequel to the very first femslash Dalan fic I wrote last year. However, this is just a shameless excuse for smut though. Heed the tags below!

Additional tags: Femslash, pregnancy, kidfic, lactation kink, porn without plot

When the doorbell rang, Dav heaved a sigh of relief. She took the stuffed animals she’d been picking up off the floor and tossed them into Paris’s already overflowing toy chest, dusting her hands off before heading towards the door and swinging it open. As expected, it was a grinning Martina and Andie, carrying gift bags of yet more toys. “Where’s my goddaughter?” Andie demanded in lieu of a proper greeting, making her way into the flat as Martina trailed behind her.

“Hello to you too,” Dav muttered, although she was too exhausted to care about social niceties. Ever since she and Lana had welcomed Paris into their lives six months ago, uninterrupted sleep had become a luxury. Naturally, when a sympathetic Martina and Andie had offered to babysit Paris for a day so Dav and Lana could get some much-needed rest, they’d jumped at the offer.

“Oh, there she is!” Andie’s tone melted into sheer gooey delight when Lana emerged from the bedroom with Paris in her arms. Lana was the picture of exhaustion, with deep circles under her eyes and her hair in a carelessly tied ponytail. But Dav thought Lana had never looked more beautiful than she did now, even in an old t-shirt and yoga pants.

Back when they’d gotten married and decided to have a baby, they’d discussed it at length and consulted a fertility doctor. When the results showed Lana had the higher odds of carrying a pregnancy to full term with a sperm donor, it was something they both agreed on after much thought and discussion. Dav had done everything possible to help Lana during the pregnancy, but she understood that it had taken a physical toll on Lana regardless. They’d opted for a C-section, and Lana had also wanted to breastfeed Paris as much as possible.

Admittedly, since they’d become parents, it was harder and harder to muster the effort for romance. Paris slept in a crib in their room, and most nights Dav was too exhausted after work to do anything other than make sure both Lana and Paris had everything they needed. Dav couldn’t remember the last time she and Lana had made love, so she was hoping that they could take advantage of Martina’s and Fletch’s generous offer.

After Martina and Andie had finished cooing over Paris, Lana shuffled back to the bedroom while Dav handed over all the things her friends would need, such as Paris’s diaper bag, some bottles of breast milk that Lana had pumped earlier and a few changes of clothes, just in case.

“Call us if there is anything, all right?” Dav said to Martina and Andie, pressing farewell kisses all over Paris’s chubby pink cheeks. It pained her to actually let go of her daughter and watch her go off with someone else, but Dav knew Lana needed the break more than her. At least Dav got to leave the house for work, while poor Lana was stuck at home 24 hours a day.

“Have a good time, you two,” Martina called out, while Andie took Paris’s tiny hand and made her wave goodbye to Dav.

Closing the door with a sigh, Dav wondered where Lana was. Heading to the bedroom, she couldn’t help smiling when she saw Lana had already passed out on the bed, snoring softly. Tucking a blanket over her wife, Dav pressed a kiss to her forehead before going out to the living room to scroll through her phone and see if she could order them something nice for dinner.

***

Dav awoke with a start when her phone rang. She blinked sleepily, realising she must have been so tired that she had nodded off on the sofa, her phone still in her hand. It was Martina, who was calling to update her on a very happy Paris getting spoiled rotten at Auntie Andie’s house. “We’ll be happy to keep her as late as you want,” Martina offered. “Go have dinner, a nice bath-- something non-baby related.”

“Thanks mate,” Dav said, before yawning. It was only now that she realised Lana’s blanket was now draped over her instead. As she hung up, she saw on her phone clock that it was already past seven. Fucking hell, had she slept that long?

Getting up and stretching, Dav went to the bedroom to check on Lana, but the bed was already empty and neatly made. However, there was light under the bathroom door, as well as soft music playing. Dave knocked on the door, opening it when Lana softly called out, “Come in!”

When Dave laid eyes on a fully naked Lana soaking in the bath, her brain short-circuited.

Lana had her glossy brown hair piled up on top of her head in a messy bun, a few loose tendrils sticking to her damp cheeks. She was resting one foot on the edge of the bath, and Dav’s gaze roamed up the smooth pink length of her leg, right till where it disappeared into the water. Dav could also see the rounded tops of her breasts, peeking just above the water level. Lana’s breasts had expanded by about two cup sizes or so during pregnancy, which made Dav’s back ache in sympathy because Lana was already a C-cup before she got pregnant.

“Hey, love.” Lana flashed her a lazy smile, her eyes especially blue in the fluorescent light of their bathroom. “I saw you passed out on the sofa and didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Mmmm.” Dav licked her lips, taking in her fill of Lana’s breathtakingly beautiful body - or rather, the teasing glimpses of it not hidden under the bathwater. “Mart called, she said they’ll keep Paris as late as we want tonight.”

The corner of Lana’s mouth quirked up in a secretive little smile. “Whatever will we do with those few extra hours?”

Dav went over to kneel beside the tub, her hand cupping Lana’s peachy cheek as she bent down, their faces closer. “Oh, I can think of a few things.”

They slowly kissed for a good few moments, luxuriating in the short freedom of being allowed to do whatever they wanted without having to listen for Paris crying. Dav slipped her tongue into Lana’s soft, wet mouth, her nipples tightening at the sound of Lana sighing into their kiss.

When they broke apart, Dav deliberately kept their faces close, their lips brushing against each other’s whenever they said something. “Waiting for me in the bath like that,” she whispered. “Such a tease, aren’t you?”

Lana arched an eyebrow at her. “Me? A tease?” Her smile was widening. “I’m only a tease if I don’t follow through, Gahan.”

“Oh, you know exactly what you do to me.” Dave’s hand slipped under the water, a finger circling Lana’s left nipple and making her gasp. “Teasing me with your soft, wet, round tits like that--”

“Like them?” Lana’s grip circled around Dav’s wrists. “Been thinking about you touching them all day.”

Dav laughed against her mouth. “So you’ve not been wearing a bra on purpose then?”

Lana’s eyes widened with false innocence. “But I’m a good girl,” she said demurely, even as she spread her legs, pulling Dave’s hand down between them.

Dav couldn’t help moaning when she slipped her fingers into Lana's slickness. Lana’s beautiful blue eyes rolled up in pleasure as Dav slowly fucked her with careful impatience, Lana gasping when Dav’s thumb started circling her clit as well. They started kissing again, Lana playing with her own nipples while Dav ached to drag Lana out of the tub and into their bed.

As Lana’s hips started to thrust up against Dav’s hand, the water sloshed out of the tub and all over the floor, getting Dav’s clothes wet as well. Not that Dav cared, since both of them were just wearing whatever was comfortable and clean whenever they were home, but Lana stopped moving, her hands tugging on Dav’s hair in concern. “Your knees,” she muttered, even as Dav blinked at her. “They must be killing you.”

As reluctant as Dav was to stop touching Lana, she had to agree that her wife had a point. “Bed, then?”

“Agreed,” Lana said, before there was a glint of mischief in her eyes. “If we stay here, I can’t eat you out the way I want anyway.”

“Fuck the bathtub then.” Dav was up so fast and tearing off her wet clothes that Lana couldn’t stop laughing.

***

After the quickest of showers, they both moved to the bed, trading deep and slow kisses which were making Dav crazed with desire. Lana was insanely wet too, judging from how slick Dav’s fingers were when she slid them inside her folds again. Dav laughed as Lana pouted when Dav withdrew her fingers, just to playfully tease her, but it backfired when Lana started playing with herself, her hand delving between her thighs. The devious Lana proved she was more than Dav’s match as she brought her wet fingers up to her nipples, teasing them to hardness and leaving them moist.

“Fuck, Lana.” Dav couldn’t resist leaning down and sucking on those pink nubs, humming in approval when she could taste Lana’s slick all over them. Lana’s moans were getting louder and more and more broken as Dav lavished attention on those magnificent tits, gently squeezing them and massaging them, her mouth forming a seal over Lana’s right nipple as she began sucking in earnest.

At this Lana lost her mind and her usual cool composure, cursing and swearing as her fingers dug into Dav’s hair. Lana’s breasts were also leaking, and Dav moaned at the sweet, silky taste of her milk, her tongue running in figure-eights around her stiff nipple. No one could blame Dav for being obsessed with Lana’s tits, which were already magnificent to begin with. Motherhood had made them even fuller and rounder, and sometimes Dav daydreamed about feeling Lana up in public whenever they were at the shops or at a restaurant.

Well, nothing was going to stop her from taking her fill of Lana’s beautiful breasts now.

Dav’s mouth moved from left to right, nipple to nipple, making Lana sigh and moan and writhe under her like the world’s best temptress. Unfortunately Dav had to sacrifice a hand, letting go of Lana’s right breast so she could reach between Lana’s open legs and give her the first of many orgasms. Dav fucked Lana with her fingers while lapping up the pearly-white droplets of her milk, raising her head to watch when Lana shuddered through her first orgasm, wrecked and beautiful and ruined, her hair a messy halo around her head.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” Dav whispered, leaning down to kiss her again. She thought Lana was still tapped out, so she was stunned when Lana cupped Dav’s tits, rolling her nipples between those talented long fingers. Dav loved the way Lana ogled her tits whenever she put on a sports bra or even a bralette, or would sometimes rest her head on Dav’s chest after a particularly tiring day.

“You’re so sexy.” Lana smiled up at her as she played with Dav’s breasts, her cheeks flushed with her earlier orgasm. “I want to just watch you ride me. Can we do that?”

Whimpering, Dav nodded eagerly as she clambered onto her knees, Lana reaching over into their bedside table for one of the dildos they kept there. Since Dav was already so wet, they didn’t even bother with the lube; Lana easily slid it into Dav’s body, watching with an open mouth as Dav rocked back and forth over Lana.

“Look at you, so eager to get fucked,” Lana said admiringly, her eyes roaming up and down Dave’s body. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

“Fuck me,” Dav begged, reaching down to play with her own clit while her other hand played with her nipples. “Please, Lana--”

“After I watch you come on this, I’m going to take this out of you.” Lana gave a particularly hard thrust with the dildo, which made Dav sob with pleasure. “And lick all your juices off it. Then I’ll eat you out until you can’t walk--”

Bending down, Dav’s mouth sloppily crashed on top of Lana’s, the two of them frantically kissing as Lana sped up her movements, Dav’s body swallowing the entirety of the dildo except for its flared base. Dav was teetering on the edge, so close to orgasm until Lana slid out the dildo and replaced it with her fingers instead, her intent blue eyes watching as Dav moaned her release in Lana’s arms.

***

It was almost eleven when the doorbell rang again. Dav’s eyes flickered open when she heard Lana making her way to the door, then muffled voices as she thanked Martina and Andie for watching over Paris. After a while, there was silence again - which meant their friends had left. Dav sleepily made a mental note to text them a thank-you when she was more awake later - and less wrecked - and perhaps add a gift voucher to Martina and Andie’s favourite spa.

Lana padded back into the bedroom, gently carrying a sleeping Paris in her arms. Laying their daughter back down into the crib, Lana started packing away the bags Dav had passed to Martina and Andie. When Lana spotted Dav’s half-open eyes, she smiled. “Go back to sleep, love.”

One last important thing on Dav’s mind. “Baby?”

“She looks well. We should blackmail Mart and Andie to get them to do this again.”

Snuffling a laugh against the pillow, Dav patted the bed. “C’mon to bed, love.”

Dav had almost nodded off to sleep again when she felt the warm press of Lana’s lips against her forehead. “I’ll be right there.”

#dalan #femslash #lactation kink #pwp #if anyone is interested #i'm most probably updating home later #and aiming to update something else in a few days

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lumos-solemn · 3 years

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Moving On

Summary : The war is over, so is the threat of the Dark Lord lurking around Muggles and Muggle-borns. When everyone's finally safe, Harry couldn't help but think about a certain Muggle Family with whom he spent almost 16 years of his life - The Dursleys. Though unwillingly, They had kept him with them and thereby strengthening the protective shield around his mother created and unknowingly keeping him safe. So, Harry decides to take a visit to them and ensure that they are leading their 'Normal' life.

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

As Harry stood at the small turning towards Privet Drive, Memories, though not so good, flooded into him. He had just apparated there deciding to pay his dear Uncle, Aunt and Cousin a little visit. Harry didn't expect them to welcome him with warn heart and happy faces; In fact he could absolutely imagine the expression of Uncle Vernon's and Aunt Petunia's face when he shows up on the door on a clear and bright Sunday. He was not sure if he is doing the right thing by revisiting them and just making the old memories fresh but a talk with Ginny told him he need to.

When he talked to Ron, He clearly said it was a bad idea and Harry kind of agreed with him. Hermione, on the other hand, asked him to go and said in a rather Hermioneish way- "You should do what you feel like Harry! If you are feeling like going, Just do it! Other wise, No!". That definitely didn't help. But Ginny convinced him to visit them, especially after he recollected his last interaction with Dudley a year ago. She thought it will be good if he just paid them a visit cause none of them expected Harry to come out alive after the war. So, After so many negotiations with himself and with his friends, He found himself apparating to Privet Drive.

As he walked through the streets looking at the similar houses built on the same line, He couldn't help but go back in the memory line and though not good, It indeed bought a smile on him. He remembered meeting Sirius for the first time; He thought it was a Black Dog attacking him. He recollected being attacked by the Dementors along with Dudley. He remembered going to everyday Markets to get things for Mrs Figg when the Dursleys leave him with her. He passed the house of Mrs Figg, the old Squib who lives there in the disguise of a strict and cold Muggle lady. He grinned thinking how Uncle Vernon would react when he finds out.

At last, He reached the 2 storey house which looked like every other houses in that line and stood before the doorstep anticipating what to do next. The Garden was well kept just like how it used to be. Taking a deep breath, He pushed the calling bell button on the right side of the door. As he stood there, pocketing his hands inside his jeans, He heard footsteps coming closer and within some seconds, the door opened revealing Dudley Dursley.

Harry looked at him like he didn't believe his eyes. The Dudley before him didn't look like the one he last saw. Though not slim, He has definitely lost a serious amount of weight and is looking lot a more fit. He has started growing a good amount of stubble and his face didn't look Pig-like.

The express on his face clearly told him He was least expected there. He was looking at Harry like an odd thing, his eyes wide. Harry tried to smile but ended up twitching his mouth in an awkward sort of way.

"Dudley..!!", A female voice came which Harry couldn't recognise but that seemed to knock some sense into Dudley as he suddenly shook himself and spoke, " Ha.. Harry?"

Harry found it odd when he heard his name from him. As far as he remembers, He was never called by his name in the house. It was always 'Boy' or 'Kid' or just 'He'.

"Hi Big D!", Harry greeted trying to ease the situation a bit.

Dudley smiled which Harry found amusing as well as nice and spoke, "Come in!"

Harry stepped inside the house and his eyes involuntarily travelled through the rooms. It looked exactly the way it was when he had left last time. Nothing was changed.

"Mom and Dad are not Home. They went to attend a Party from Dad's Office!", Dudley informed and Harry found it hard digesting such mannered behaviour coming from him. Of course, He knew he has changed since Harry had saved his life from the Dementors some years ago, But this was a lot to take in.

Harry nodded as Dudley sat on the couch and Harry too took his seat opposite. Just as was about to ask about when they had gotten back, A blond girl with a pointed nose came into view from kitchen. She was a pretty girl with, Harry noticed, an uncanny resemblance to Aunt Petunia. She was quite tall and had a pointed face but it looked less strick and more carefree.

Harry looked at her and then at Dudley expecting him to speak up. He thought he just saw a blush playing on his face and found it hard not to laugh, not when he was being so nice.

"Er..-This is Betty! And Betty, This is..Harry, Er..-My Cousin!", He said standing up and introducing both of them. It was like a day of Surprises for Harry. Firstly, Dudley's changed appearance and behaviour, and then his Girl in his house. Harry found it hard to believe. Nevertheless Harry smiled and shook hands with her who was looking at him sceptically for some reason Harry didn't give much thought to.

"I will get something to drink!", The girl spoke and looked at Dudley before leaving.

They both looked at each other for some time before Harry speaking up, "Er... That's your Girlfriend then. Right?", Harry asked fighting hard not to laugh.

Dudley went pink before muttering, "Yeah..Sort of!"

Harry didn't understand what Sort of meant there but nodded. "She seems so familiar here!"

"Yeah! She comes often. Mum likes her a lot!", Dudley answered.

"I see!", Harry replied and looked at the floor for some moments.

"So..", Dudley started and Harry looked up. "The war's over then?"

Harry nodded.

"So you defeated that..Er..-", Dudley seemed to think hard. "That guy who killed your parents?", He said finally.

Harry nodded, "Voldemort. His name!", He spoke.

"Oh..Yeah!"

Another round of awkward silence followed in which the girl called Betty came and served him drinks and snacks. Harry thanked her and she smiled at him. She then told Dudley she is leaving and left not before offering him a final smile.

"She knows!", Dudley spoke when he found Harry looking at her go. Harry jerked his head and looked at him enquiringly, "She knows you being...Er..-"

"Wizard?", Harry asked.

"Yeah! I told her about you lot. She found it interesting! Said, she reckons one of her neighbour from her old household was also one!", Dudley explained.

"So when did you get back here?", Harry asked.

"Oh..!One of your guys came to our apartment personally and informed us all about you and told us it is safe for us to come back here. So, We moved back here the next week itself. They offered to take us but Dad refused considering there is no danger anymore."

"Oh..Yeah..!!", Harry replied.

They sat silently for another few minutes, only the sound of Harry sipping the coffee could be heard, before Dudley asked, a rather surprising one, "Do you want to see your room? The old one?"

Harry almost choked on his tea but balanced himself before looking at him amused. What the hell happened to the Diddykins?

But looking at the enquiring face of Dudley, Harry considered the question. He pondered it and thought it would be good if he just did. "Yeah. Sure!", He said standing up followed by Dudley.

They climbed the stairs, a feeling of thick memories overlapping Harry. They reached the room and opened the door slowly. Harry stepped into the room and looked around. It definitely didn't look like the one he left. It was clean and mended. There was a big cardboard box on one corner with something inside.

"Mum cleaned after we came here. No one usually comes here. There were some stuffs that you left here, Dad was about to throw it away but Mum and I insisted to keep it. Its in that box.", Dudley spoke.

Harry felt overwhelmed. Such an act was the least expected from the Dursleys. He probably expected his room to be renovated and converted into some Game room and useless stuff for Dudley. Harry looked around the room and slowly moved around observing the place. He went near the big cardboard box, his heart pounding fast, Not knowing what he will find it in there. Harry looked into the box and found so many newspaper cuttings, some letter covers, old boxes of Weasley's wizarding wheezes and many more. There was some Owl food also in a box and Harry was painfully reminded of Hedwig. And in a corner in the box, He found a toy soldier and bent to pick it up.

It is probably 10 years old. He nicked it from Dudley when he was almost 7 or 8. He glanced at Dudley and saw him smiling at him. He too smiled back, "Can I take this?", He asked and Dudley looked rather surprised.

"Yeah! Its your stuff!"

Harry smiled gratefully before pocketing it. He then moved away from the box and went near the bed. He looked through the window towards the bright sky and suddenly felt a Flying Blue Ford Angelia is coming through the clouds towards him. He smiled fondly at the memory.

Harry took a deep sigh and turned to Dudley. "I think I shall leave! Its time!", He looked at him and Dudley nodded going out followed by Harry.

They were at the door when Harry turned to Dudley, "So you mean it then?"

Dudley looked at him confused and Harry continued, "That I am not a waste of space?", He smiled.

It took some seconds before Dudley actually realised what was said, "Oh? Yeah! I mean it!"

"Thanks Dudley! It was nice meeting you again!"

Dudley smiled, "Yeah! You too! You couldn't see Mum and Dad though!"

"Oh! I am pretty sure they will be happy with that!", He grinned and Dudley chuckled.

As they opened the door and stepped out, They saw a car coming towards them before stopping before the house. And to Harry's amazement, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia stepped out, both looking extremely stunned.

"Yo..You...Here?", Mr Dursley stuttered. Petunia looked simply surprised.

Harry smiled, "Yes Uncle Vernon. Thought I will just pay you a visit!", Harry said coolly.

Both of them didn't say anything and Harry didn't wait for them to speak either. He turned, "Goodbye Big D!", He smiled and Dudley reciprocated much to the amazement of the other two.

He turned to Petunia and Vernon, "GoodBye Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia!", He said both finding it hard to speak up. "And Thanks Aunt Petunia-", He paused, "For not throwing away my stuff!", He smiled genuinely and Petunia tried to smile but ended up twitching her lips unpleasantly.

Harry gave them a last smile and started walking away when he suddenly heard Mr Dursley, "How are you going to go?", He turned and saw Dudley too looking at him puzzled. He grinned, "Oh. Don't mind. I will just apparate!"

The expression on their face clearly gave Harry a hard time not to laugh as he walked away mentally thanking Ginny for convincing him to do this!

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry #harry x ginny #ron weasley #hermione granger #dudley #dudley dursley #the dursleys #vernon dursley #petunia dursley #hinny fanfic #hinny #headcanons

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multifandom-girlie · 4 years

Text

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞

Imagine: You have a serious argument and he lashes out in front of unsuspecting eyes.

Pairing: Klaus x Human!Reader

Warnings: Violence, Traumatic distress.

Words: 1694

Edited: Yes

Recently, my husband Klaus and I have been in a really bad place in our relationship. Rightfully so, Elijah staked himself to save me from possessing The Hollow and killing myself to make certain Klaus didn't lose 'the love of his life' or our children didn't lose their mother. Ever since, he's distanced himself and I understand, he lost his best friend, his brother and his mentor and he never prepared himself for it because he was immortal. But as of late, I've been getting pushed away and I don't really notice being pushed away until I'm alone and not busy like right now. Obviously I've had to stay strong for the kids and they know their father is struggling immensely and I know Klaus is angry and doesn't want to take that out on the kids. The problem is we haven't talked in months...eight months.

He's never home to talk or see the kids or anyone, he's always drunk and reeks of alcohol and comes home at stupid times in the morning which wakes the kids up. Which ends up being a nightmare when I have to get up whilst he passes out for the next day and then goes on his Midnight adventures. Truth is I don't feel like he loves me anymore and it's starting to hurt more and more, since I actually have time to think.

It's currently 6 pm and I'm cooking dinner for the boys and Nathalia(our children). Tonight it was honey salmon and vegetables, although mommy's having a little more wine tonight than salmon. I was just putting my glass of red down before chopping the carrots when Klaus walked in grabbed a bottle of beer out of the fridge and threw the lid on the counter right next to the bin.

"Dick."

He stopped and turned around walking towards the counter and placing the bottle on the counter.

"What was that love ?"

I continued to chop another carrot, ignoring the warmth of his body so close to mine. Having not being touched in weeks was starting to hit me but I wouldn't let it reach.

"That's what I thought. "

Ignoring him, I continued preparing dinner.

"Your so fucking immature Y/N."

He walked out the house and slammed the door behind him.

***

I had just started to clean up dinner as I didn't do it straight away after we ate. As I had to bath the kids and get them ready for bed before Klaus got home. No doubt he'd yell at me if they were still awake. I managed to polish off two and a half bottles of red tonight and I was finishing off the rest of the bottle whilst cleaning up. I heard the door open and my eyes shot to the clock, checking the time. 1:45 am, just on time. I was putting the last plate away when I downed my glass and put the wine away. Klaus walked up behind me and started to kiss my neck, his alcohol ridden breath hitting me but also a sweet smell.... is that perfume ?! I pushed him away and tried going upstairs. He grabbed my arm and yanked me back.

"What do you want Klaus ?"

"I want to fuck you."

"Not happening. The stench of perfume and sex already on you is making me sick."

"Oh stop judging love."

"I'm sorry, did you just tell me to stop judging ?! You cheated on me you cunt."

"It was one girl and it didn't mean anything."

"Whatever Klaus."

I decided to walk into the living room to put away the toys that weren't put away. He downed the rest of his beer he brought home with him and got another one. He sat down and drank some more. I finished cleaning and went to walk upstairs. I quickly realised that he was actually talking to me and that I had an opportunity to sort this out.

"Babe ?"

He groaned.

"What love ?"

"We need to talk."

"I don't want to talk Y/N."

"We need too. How has our relationship come to this ?"

"What do you mean Y/N?"

"I mean you don't talk to me anymore, you sleep all day, cheat on me all night and you don't even see the kids anymore."

He scoffed and walked into the kitchen to get another beer and he leant against the counter. I followed him in and placed myself in front of him.

"Klaus stop avoiding this. Talk to me !"

He started to let the alcohol take over and he started to raise his voice.

"Fuck off Y/N, I don't want to talk !"

"Why ?"

"Because I hate you ! That's why !"

"So ten minutes ago you wanted to have sex and now you hate me. Are you fucking bipolar?! Stop raising your voice as well, the kids are asleep."

"I don't give it a shit about waking the fucking kids Y/N."

"I swear to god, you wake those beautiful children upstairs and I'm kicking you out, I promise you."

"Your not kicking me out of my own house. Your the one that started this."

"Please tell me, how ?!"

"You killed my brother ! It's your fault he's fucking dead ! I can live without you but he's my fucking brother Y/N."

"Are you fucking kidding me ?! How the hell is that my fault Klaus, I didn't ask him to do that. He did it because he cares about you !"

"No he cares about you ! He didn't give a shit about me, he didn't want you to die because he loved you ! Not for me or the kids, you !"

"So that's what this is about ? You think he loved me more ?!"

"No, I know he loved you more ! But you still fucking killed my brother and I hate you for that."

"I'm not gonna stand here and listen to this ! I deserve better than this."

"Really ? So you and Elijah didn't kiss on New Years then no ? He didn't proceed to kiss you again on your birthday ? and Mine ?!"

"I NEVER kissed back Nik !"

"Don't fucking lie to me Y/N ! I fucking saw it !"

"I just told you Nik, I never kissed back. He kissed me !"

"I don't believe you. I don't believe you love me anymore. Do you ?"

"Nik..."

"Do you !"

I stood there looking at him in the eyes, I didn't want to lie to him but I didn't know how he'd react. He slammed his beer bottle on the counter and walked over to me, pinning me against the wall by my shoulders.

"Answer me !"

I closed my eyes, allowing tears to roll down my face. I flinched as his hand touched my face, his eyes softened a little but quickly went hard once again. I opened my eyes bravely and shrugged at him whilst biting my bottom lip to keep my cries in. His hard exterior fell from his face and a tear rolled down his cheek, he stumbled backwards and turned his back to me. I walked slowly over to him and placed my small hand on his shoulder without realising that it triggered his anger to surface. The next thing I knew I was pinned up again the wall by my neck and a hard punched reached my nose, breaking it. I fell to the ground and he grabbed another beer out the fridge and sat staring at me emptily, whilst chugging his beer down.

I laid on the floor clutching my nose and trying not to scream to worry the kids, I never wanted them to find out about this. So I struggled to get up and when I finally stood up so did Klaus and he yanked me back by my hair and placed his mouth near my ear.

"You tell no one about this, do you understand me ?"

I didn't reply, I was in too much pain but he yanked harder and the mass of tears flowing down my cheeks got heavier.

"Do you ?!"

"Y-Yes."

He bit into his wrist and forced it in my mouth, forcing his healing blood down my throat. My nose re-positioned and the pain vanished, almost as if it were never there. He sat me down on the sofa and he got me a glass of water once I gulped it down, he pulled me into his side. I heard him gulped and a few tears land on my head. He was crying.

"I'm sorry for everything. Pushing you away, blaming you for Elijah's sacrifice, cheating on you but most importantly for laying my hands on you. I'm meant to be your protector not the person who causes the things you need to be protected from."

I sat up and grabbed his face, before kissing him passionately. He kissed back. For once I felt as if things were actually going to get better. Klaus stopped pushing me away, he didn't lay a finger on me again or sleep with another girl. He was my husband and father of my kids again.

Little did the know their eldest son saw the whole thing.

***

Henry's POV

I was sleeping peacefully like usual, which meant my dad wasn't home yet thank god. I hate him so much. He treats my mom like shot and I still have to pretend like I know nothing because my mom thinks we are so oblivious to the mistreatment. Then I checked my phone 2:05 am followed with a slam downstairs. I snuck down the stairs, knowing full well I was dead meat if I was found out of bed. I got to the middle balcony of stairs and had a perfect view in the kitchen and as soon as I got there I sat down and saw dad yelling at my mom. Next thing I see is her on the floor with him a broken nose and my dad being smug about it. I went back up to my bedroom to perfect my plan.

How was I to kill my father ?

***

Children:

Daughter-4 years old named Nathalia.

Son-9 years old named Ansel.

Son-15 years old named Daniel

Part 2

MASTERLIST

#klaus mikaelson #klaus x reader #klaus mikealson x reader #domestic abuse #violence #TVD #to

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softlass27 · 4 years

Text

Robert Week 2020 Day 2: missing scene/rewrite scene

After letting Rebecca take Seb to Liverpool, Robert told Aaron, “I wanted to tell you, I just knew you’d talk me out of it.” In my alternate version of the 2nd November 2018 episode, Robert lets Aaron talk him out of it :)

(aka fuck emmerdale and their ridiculous “a child belongs with its mother” attitude, even when it makes ZERO sense)

AO3 link here

Robert trudged from Keeper’s Cottage to the Mill on autopilot, barely taking notice of Seb’s babbling as he pulled out his keys and opened the front door.

“Never ends, this, does it?” Aaron called over his shoulder as they entered the living room, chucking teddy after teddy into Seb’s toy box.

“Seem to spend half my life clearing your stuff away, mister,” he grinned and took Seb from Robert. “When’re you gonna start picking up after yourself, eh?” Seb gurgled happily and grabbed Aaron’s beard.

Normally Robert would laugh at the sight of his two favourite people together, probably make some sort of joke about charging their son rent or teaching him to use the hoover, but he didn’t have it in him, not today. Aaron’s smile dimmed when he caught the look on Robert’s face.

“You alright?”

He shook his head wordlessly, mouth pressed together in a hard line.

Aaron came towards him, close enough that Seb was slightly squished between their chests, and laid a hand on Robert’s arm.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

Robert braced himself for the impact.

“I think – I think we should let Seb go.”

Aaron blinked uncomprehendingly, hoisting Seb higher in his arms. “Go where?”

“Go with Rebecca. To Liverpool.”

There was a beat, then –

“Sorry, you what?”

“It might be for the best if – ”

“No, no way.” Aaron took a step back again, shaking his head and tightening his grip on Seb.

“Aaron – ”

“No, Robert.”

“I’m trying to do the right thing here, would you just listen to me for a minute? Please.”

At the quiver in Robert’s voice, Aaron’s incredulous glare softened by a fraction. He exhaled shakily and looked down at Seb, who shot him a gummy smile in return.

“He’s due a nap,” he said quietly. “Put the kettle on while I take him upstairs.”

They settled on the sofa facing each other, knees pressed together and each with a mug nestled in their hands.

“Okay, talk to me,” Aaron said and blew on his tea, open and patient in a way Robert never could have imagined him being a couple of years ago. “What’s brought this on?”

Robert floundered for a moment, unsure of where to start.

“Seeing Rebecca earlier… she’s so down, Aaron. Couldn’t stop crying the whole time we were there.”

“Well she has just been dumped, that’s probably to be expected. Though if she had any sense, she’d know that Ross Barton is no great loss.”

“It’s not just that, though, is it? Her staying here for Seb means she’s stuck somewhere she doesn’t want to be. Surrounded by memories of everything she’s lost, all she’s been through… she just wants a fresh start, to be happy. How can I keep stopping her? I just feel like we’re pressuring her into staying.”

“Ross was pressuring her into going!” Aaron snapped, before taking a breath and reigning himself in. Robert could see how hard he was trying to keep calm, to listen and understand what Robert was saying, and Robert adored him for it.

“Look,” Aaron said eventually. “I get that Rebecca’s been through a lot, I do. I know this year has been hell on her. But that’s a big part of why Seb should stay here with us; she’s not strong enough to cope with him, not full-time. She’s never looked after him on her own; even before the accident she had Chrissie and Lawrence helping her out. And it’s not just about her happiness, is it? It’s about Seb’s, too. That’s the most important thing.”

Robert nodded. Of course it was.

“And being in a strange place, away from his home, that’s not what’s best for him. With no family except his brain-damaged mum, who was held prisoner and nearly murdered by her own psychotic nephew barely a couple of months ago. Plus Ross, who isn’t exactly the paternal type, who we know can be unstable, or even dangerous on a bad day. And then what, some nanny – another random stranger who he won’t know? Who we won’t even know? And that’s it, he’ll be alone. He’ll wonder where we are, why we’ve left him.”

Something in Robert’s heart clenched painfully. That was the last thing he wanted; he’d rather die than make Seb think that he’d abandoned him, that he didn’t love him with everything he had.

“I wouldn’t – we’d still get to see him all the time,” he said, even as his resolve began to crumble. “I’d make sure we got plenty of access.”

“That’s too risky, Robert. Everything would be on their terms, and they could change them like that.” Aaron snapped his fingers. “I wouldn’t put it past either of them. And whatever we get, it won’t be enough, you know it won’t. Rebecca’s already agreed to stay, why rock the boat?”

“She’s agreed to stay for now. But she could change her mind one day, she probably will. What if we’re just delaying the inevitable? We might still have to fight for Seb when he’s older – old enough to know what's going on. And if we do, if things get nasty and it goes to court… ”

“The court that might decide he should stay with us.”

“They won’t, Bex said as much.”

“What? When?”

“She – when she was still planning to go with Ross and we were talking about mediation, she said she was more likely to get primary care than we are.”

“Oh, and she knows that for sure, does she?”

Robert hesitated, suddenly wishing he could take back that nugget of information.

“Rob, what?”

“She said… with you having convictions… ”

He saw the exact moment the realisation hit Aaron and the colour drained from his face.

“Oh. Nice of her,” he mumbled, leaning back against the sofa with a crestfallen expression. And just like that, some of Robert's old dislike towards Rebecca, which he normally kept buried for Seb's sake, came rushing to the surface.

“God, she’s not wrong, though, they would drag my record into it. GBH, assault, they’d think he wasn’t even safe with me.”

“Which would be total rubbish,” Robert rushed to reassure his husband, wrapping an arm over his shoulder and squeezing tightly. “You’re the best dad Seb could have.”

“The courts wouldn’t see it that way, would they?” Aaron said, eyes welling with frustrated tears. He scrubbed a hand across his face before gazing at Robert earnestly. “But you don’t even know it’ll come to that, Robert. You can’t give up based on a load of ifs and buts, on something that might never happen.”

Robert nodded slowly, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “Yeah, I suppose… ”

“Is there something else?” Aaron asked, nudging him when he remained silent for a tad too long. “Oi, what’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

“I just… ” Robert’s voice wobbled as he searched for the right words, tried to vocalise the darkest thoughts in his head. "I don’t want Seb to grow up thinking I kept him from her. My dad didn’t let me stay with my mum after they broke up, wouldn’t let me choose. He kept us apart and I hated him for it, what if – ”

“No, this isn’t like that.” Aaron set his mug down and grasped Robert’s hand tightly in his own. “Rob, you did everything in your power to find Rebecca when she was missing, all so that Seb didn’t have to grow up without his mum. For Christ’s sake, you nearly killed yourself over it – nearly gave me a heart attack in the process as well, you idiot.”

“Sorry. Again.”

“S’okay. Just don’t do it again or I’ll kill you myself,” Aaron warned with a tiny smile that Robert couldn’t help returning.

“Yes, boss.”

“But it just goes to show what you’d do for him. You talk about me, but you’re the one who’s an incredible dad, Rob, Seb’s so lucky to have you. And that’s why I know this is the best place for him, at home with you. With me. And the rest of his family.”

Robert didn’t reply, not really trusting himself to speak around the heavy lump in his throat. They sat in silence for a few moments, fingers stroking back and forth softly.

“So?” Aaron asked eventually. “We’re agreed, he’s staying?”

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right, he belongs here. M'sorry, I just… I’m trying not to be selfish about this.”

“It’s okay to be selfish about this. It’s okay to want to keep him here.”

“Then why do I feel so guilty?”

“Because you’re a good person. Despite what you’d have everyone believe,” Aaron smiled fondly and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I know you, Sugden.”

“Sugden-Dingle to you.”

Early the next morning, they were surprised by rapid knocking at the door.

“Who the hell’s come over at this time?” Aaron frowned as he fed Seb another mouthful of porridge.

Robert shrugged and went to open it, finding Rebecca stood in their doorway.

“What’re you doing here? Bit early for a visit, isn’t it?”

She shot him a nervous smile and entered the flat, fiddling with her handbag. “I’m – I’m here to say goodbye. I’m going to Liverpool. Today.”

Robert heard a sharp intake of breath behind him and spun around to look at Aaron, a hint of panic in both their eyes.

“You’ve changed your mind? Again?” Robert turned back to Rebecca, shaking his head rapidly. “Bex, you said you wouldn’t take him from us – ”

“I’m not!” she cried, holding her hands up in defence. “I said he was lucky to have both of you, and I meant it. He needs to stay, I get that. But I’ve slept on it and – and I’ve realised that I can’t. I need a fresh start, and Ross is my best shot at that.”

There was a long silence, only broken by the sound of Seb banging his little plastic spoon on the high chair.

“So you’re leaving? Now?”

“My car’s all packed up.”

“And Seb… ” Aaron stood and approached her tentatively. “Stays here?”

Rebecca nodded, even as her eyes swam with tears, mascara already starting to run.

“This is… the hard decision I’ve ever had to make, but I can’t take him away from his home, from everything he knows. It wouldn’t be fair on him. I’d want visitation rights, of course, weekends and holidays and – ”

“Yeah, of course,” Robert was quick to assure her, heart pounding. “If you’re sure this is what you want, then we can figure all that out, I promise.”

“Okay. Good. Can I have five minutes with him?”

Robert sat in the kitchen with Aaron as they watched Rebecca curl up with Seb on the sofa, holding him tightly and whispering words they couldn’t hear. Eventually, she stood and gave him one final kiss on the head before handing him back to Robert.

“You be a good boy, okay?” She smiled at Seb through her tears, squeezing his hand lightly. “Mummy loves you so much, I’ll have your room all ready for when you come to stay.”

“Good luck, Bex,” Robert said, bouncing Seb on his hip. “I hope Liverpool is – yeah.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, picking up her handbag. “Right, if I don’t go now, I never will. And Ross is expecting me. Goodbye, both of you.”

She gave them a watery smile, before taking her leave. Aaron closed the door behind her, before turning slowly and leaning against it, staring at Robert in shock.

“Well… ” Robert slumped down on arm of the sofa, Seb in his lap. “That’s that.”

“You know,” Aaron mused when he came into their room that night. “I think Mr Giraffe is about to steal Teddy’s top spot as favourite toy. Seb stopped crying as soon as I put it in the cot with him.”

“Poor Teddy, cast aside just like that,” Robert smiled and set his book down on the bedside table. “His lordship okay?”

“Yeah.” Aaron pulled back the covers and slid in next to him. “I think he just wanted some cuddles.”

“I can relate,” Robert said, reaching out and pulling him towards the middle of the bed.

Aaron snorted. “Wow, smooth.” But he wrapped his arms around Robert’s shoulders and tangled their legs together, so Robert counted it as a win.

“Speaking of giraffes, I was thinking we could maybe take Seb to the zoo for a birthday treat,” Aaron said a few minutes later, running a hand through the short hairs on the back of Robert's neck absently. “He was only little the last time we went, now he’ll be old enough to properly look at the animals. I reckon he’d love it.”

Robert stared up at him, felt his stomach do a small somersault as he came to a sudden realisation.

“Oi,” Aaron nudged him when he didn’t answer. “You listenin’?”

“Sorry, yeah. The zoo sounds great.”

Aaron disentangled them to prop himself on his elbow, looking down at Robert with raised eyebrows.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“What?"

“I can hear your mind whirring like a hamster wheel over there.”

“Just thinking.”

“Dangerous, that.”

“Cheeky.” Robert dug a hand into Aaron’s ribs, making him squirm with laughter.

“Stop, stop it!” He caught Robert’s hand and pinned it to the bed “Come on, what’re you thinking about, then?”

“Yesterday, when I was – when I had a wobble… ”

“Yeah?”

“Not just then, but when Rebecca was missing. And after the car crash, too. I’ve always been… so afraid of Seb not having his mum around because I know how much I needed mine. Sarah, I mean.”

There was something depressing about having to clarify which deceased mother he was referring to, but Robert didn’t dwell on that now.

“That’s part of the reason why yesterday I thought... maybe he’d be better off with her.”

He hesitated at the hint of sadness in Aaron's eyes, choosing his next words carefully.

“But the thing is… Sarah wasn’t my biological mum, was she? She wasn't there from the start, it was just me and dad until she came along. But that didn’t make her any less important to me, didn’t mean we loved each other any less. When I was little and kids at school would pick on me for not having a mum, I didn’t really care. Why would I? The way I saw it, if I still had a mum – my birth mum – then I wouldn’t have Sarah, and I wouldn’t have given her up for anything.”

Robert could tell by the look on Aaron’s face that he was taken aback by the words, and he didn’t blame him. It was the most he’d said about Sarah in a long time; he hardly ever talked about her like this, not even with Aaron.

But lying in their room at night with the door shut, nestled under the covers and the shadows, always made him feel safe, like he could say anything that was on his mind. And after what they’d been through over the last few days, he needed to say this, needed to make Aaron understand.

“She always said that she chose me, we chose each other, and that meant that what we had was special.”

His voice cracked on the last word and Aaron’s hand shot out to cup his jaw, thumb stroking back and forth over his cheekbone. But he pressed on, a small smile creeping across his face despite the pain that always came with thinking about his mum for too long.

“And today it really hit me, that’s… that’s what Seb has with you. You chose to be his dad when you didn’t have to, and I’m pretty sure he chose you the second you held him for the first time at the scrapyard. You’re his Sarah, and that’s the one thing I’d never want him to lose.”

Aaron’s thumb froze at that, cheeks bright red as he stared at Robert with wide eyes.

“Rob, I… ”

“Sorry, I know this is kind of heavy to dump on you, I just – ”

He was interrupted by Aaron pressing a bruising kiss to his lips, and he let himself get lost in it, arms coming up to loop around Aaron’s neck as he kissed back with everything had.

“You don’t half catch me off-guard sometimes, you know that?” Aaron whispered when he eventually pulled away, hands running up and down Robert’s sides.

“I like to keep you on your toes,” Robert croaked back.

Aaron huffed a laugh, and pecked Robert’s bottom lip once more.

“Of course I choose him,” he said, eyes shining in the low light. “Why d'you think I fought so hard to keep him here? I love the bones of him, of both of you.”

“I love you, too.”

“And I think we're gonna be a pretty damn good at this whole parenting thing.”

Robert grinned and pulled Aaron back down. “We're gonna be amazing.”

#robertweek2020 #prepare yourselves for the mush #robron #my writing

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silverflintdaily · 4 years

Photo

Silverflint Summer Challenge - All the prompts so far!

Challenge details:

Prompts Any kind of prompt is fair game as long as they include Silverflint. OT3 and OT4 ships like Silverflinthamilton are fine too. You can submit as many prompts as you like. All prompts will be anonymous and can be submitted through the form linked below.

Fills You can create any kind of fanwork for this, fic, art, edits, videos etc. Prompts won’t be assigned or claimed so you can make things for multiple prompts and each prompt can have multiple fills.

Schedule Submit prompts and work on fills May 1 through June 22. Posting week is June 23rd to 30th, more details will be posted later.

Submit prompts here:

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Full list of prompts as of 5/25/20 below.

Ships/characters in bold

Max, Anne, Silver, and Flint They all go to burning man

Silverflint Instagram drama: Silver has crush on Flint, following with each other, Silver shove his love on Flint and Flint's uncomfortable. Flint unfollowed him one day and Silver was devastated and disappeared from Instagram. Flint found out through friends and he must seek him before Silver did something stupid.

Silverflint Truth or dare

Silverflint Canon era, one (or both) accidently calling the other one pet names

Silverflint (+sort of Flinthamilton) Silver asking Flint, while having sex, to tell him about his sex with Thomas (in detail). I think canon era, placed after 310, would be better but it's up to writer.

Silverflinthamilton + ? summer vacation modern au - maybe they go somewhere warm (or not, as Flint burns so easily), maybe they meet some beautiful men there

Silverflint post canon era reunion fic - fighting to kissing. they start out almost trying to kill one another

Silverflint modern au - after a meet rude during the coronavirus lockdown they both can't stop thinking about that handsome idiot they met. One of them tracks the other down online to apologize. how do they spend the endless weeks of shelter in place?

Silverflint canon era - A small happy celebration with just the two of them.

Silverflintmiranda canon era - Miranda survives the shot, convalesces with Silver

Silverflint modern au where either Silver or Flint has an ASMR channel (or they both have) and they secretly love listening to the other. Could be distant pining or enemies to lovers etc.

Silverflint (+Hamilton[s]) tarzan au (you can choose who is on the island and who arrives there). Lord Thomas Hamilton and/or Miranda can also be included.

Silverflintmadi "My name is (Long) John Silver. And I've got a long fucking memory [loss]."

Silverflintmadi canon era. They go on a picnic and it starts to rain. Fluff or otherwise good times would be nice!

Silverflint Flint is a cockslut and hasn't had cock in ages. Silver is happy (and really fucking astonished) to present his for the taking. happens before Silver loses his leg, canon era.

Silverflint Modern au with 'there is only one bed' trope and mutual pining. Silver is Flint's long suffering sassy PA who's been hiding a crush on his boss and friend forever.He has been successful so far. One day he has to accompany Flint on a business trip to let's say Bahamas?! and there was a booking mistake - there were booked into a honeymoon suite. And since there is a summer festival there is no chance to get another room. Things happen!

Silverflint, Silverflinthamilton 7 years after their escape from Savannah plantation, James and Thomas are living a quiet, happily ever after life - money and jewels they grabbed on their way out were enough for decades of comfortable life which they now had. And almost everything was perfect-they had each other, got to know each other again,accepted each others' demons and learned to handle each others' nightmares and guilt. Flint long ago told Thomas about Silver and with time forgave, but didn't forget him. After all Flint's heart was broken on Skeleton Island and both him and Thomas knew deep inside he still loved John Silver. They talked about Silver-about the feelings Flint used to hide, about the pain and forgiveness and about love that didn't had a happy ending. It was fine, discussing it all together, sharing these stories-past is in the past and that chapter of Flint's life will remain there. Until one day the past refused to remain in the past and John Silver showed up on their doorstep, injured, delirious and looking for his own forgiveness.

Silverflint/Silverflinthamilton Post canon S4: John Silver is no longer Long John Silver. Exiled from Madi and Maroon Island, he brought himself to somewhere nearby Savannah and disappeared. James Flint and Thomas Hamilton escaped from plantation, bought house and live happily together. 3 years later, Flint saw John Silver at tavern. But John Silver doesn't remember him. Turns out he lost memories due sickness and always forget who he was everyday. Will Flint able bring John Silver's memory back and reconcile?

Silverflint, Silverflinthamilton Modern AU silverflint - Flint and Thomas are a happily married couple and Silver and Flint are bffs with a long history. But the thing is-Silver has been crushing on Flint forever and his pining is epic. He is also sure he is clever and no one figured it out. Only both Thomas and Flint did a while ago and Flint is determined to make Silver confess his feelings. He has turned Silver's life into a living hell with his seduction techniques and jeans so tight they should be illegal in public. Meanwhile Thomas is having too much fun watching them two and making his own plans for their shared future together.

Silverflint John Silver is 30 year old virgin and has never had a relationship and sex. Max and Jack decided to set him up with date at local bar. John Silver's first date was James Flint, a loner and his last partner left him for indifference opinion. James Flint is working as cattle farmer (?) and their date went well. Except.. they are not rushing to have sex and taking time to know each other. There were lot confusion and miscommunication between them on next date. Will John Silver able to lose his virgin and will James Flint make first step to ask John Silver as his boyfriend? First kiss, first touch, sexting, first sex and hot smut.

Silverflint smut ficlet to go with finnguala's fabulous art

Silverflint post canon - old pirates having a day at the beach

Silverflint Flint is distracted by Silver's big hands.

Silverflint Modern au: Flint found Silver's missing childhood's photo at Silver's grandparent's house. He told Silver about it and gave compliment on him ("you were cute as kid and I noticed how baby earsie you were and your smile was beautiful") and Silver keep blush for non stop teasing. And then sweet, hot summer sex on bed ;)

Silverflinthamilton pornstars au

Silverflinthamilton After reunion. Thomas is trying to seduce Silver with a new, especially tight, pair of trousers.

Silverflint Canon era. S1-S2 After an accident on the Walrus Silver and Flint end up being able to read each others thoughts. How does that end up going for them?

Silverflint + Miranda just some porn where miranda is pegging one of them while the other watches them fall apart. canon or modern era, it doesn't really matter.

Silverflint Two idiots with mutual pining and obliviousness. Others try to help but it may not go so well at first.

Silverflint canon era. After a really great haul the Walrus has a rum soaked celebration. The next morning Silver and Flint wake up together in the captain's bed with no clothes.

Silverflinthamilton After reunion. Silver finally appears on their doorstep, later they are talking over their dinner but something goes wrong and Silver and Flint start to fight. Thomas is trying to calm and separate them but Flint accidentally punches him instead of Silver.

Silverflint Persuasion AU. An unmarried Silver encounters his former love Captain James Flint after he returns from battle.

Silverflint competing reality cooking show contestants

Silverflint Silver and Flint have met before many years ago and even spent the night together. Now for reasons (there was a lot of rum that night, they're both different people, memory loss etc.) neither of them remember. One of them has a nagging feeling when Silver joins the Walrus crew but one of them remembers nothing yet.

Silverflint One of them needs to be restrained and dominated to truly let go. Writer's choice who and what era.

Silverflint Silver threatens to shave his head

Silverflint/Silverflinthamilton (probably?)Post canon S4 and Treasure Island: Captain Flint's ghost decided to haunt John Silver for revenge. However, Long John Silver was disappeared to nowhere. Fast forward for this year, Long John Silver's great great grandson, John Silver bought property in Bristol. One day, he was haunted by ghost Captain Flint. Ghost Captain Flint wants revenge but ended up falling in love sweet, poor John Silver's due social anxiety. Will they make up for loss done by his late ancestor? Happy ending for everyone. All depend on writer's idea!

Silverflint AU Canon divergence during season 4. Madi really dies in episode 7; Thomas Hamilton is not found in Savannah. The war goes on, bolstered by an enraged Silver, fueled by the Urca gold. During this time of violence and grief, Flint and Silver become all each other has left in the world.

Silverflint Sometimes one of them will keep the other on the edge for as long as he can stand. There is lots and lots of begging and pleading. There could be fingering and rimming and toys...

Silverflinthamilton Reunion fic where John finds James and Thomas in their home x nbr of years after s4, then realises he knows Thomas because they spent a month living together in Paris some years before Thomas met James and having a blast. John recognises Thomas who doesn't recognise him until John shows a tattoo/mark placed somewhere there is no misunderstanding of why he recognises that part of him (because he's seen john naked). Develops into threesome or twosome where the last person joins in later.

Silverflint tentacles

SilverFlint / MadiSilverFlintHamilton Post s4 Thomas and Flint are living together after escaping the plantation. Madi and Silver who are still together come to visit them. SilverFlint have palpable sexual/romantic tension and Madi and Thomas conspire to push them together. Afterwards when the tension is resolved Silver and Flint realize it was planned by their significant others all along and invite them into bed and the four of them have some fun

Silverflint When drunk, Flint behaves like Toby Stephens’ Prince John in BBC Robin Hood.

Silverflint (hamilton) Annihilation Au

Silverflint Canon-compliant up til 4.06. When the Spanish attacks Nassau, Silver is the one who is thought to be dead and later revealed to have been captured (instead of Madi). Rogers tries to use to Silver to cause a rift between Madi and Flint, thinking that Madi will trade the treasure for Silver's life while Flint will not. To everyone's surprise, the opposite happens. Madi refuses to trade the treasure while Flint will stop at nothing to get Silver back.

Silverflint firefighter au: silver keeps accidentally triggering the fire alarm while trying to improve his cooking (an actual fire may or may not be involved) and flint is the ridiculously attractive firefighter who has to deal with it

Silverflint vigilante au: they're both vigilantes watching over the same area and have a bit of a rivalry going on until they have to team up to take down a new threat.

Silverflint modern au (amnesia): silver wakes up with amnesia and forgets that he was dating flint before the accident. as far as he remembers, they can't stand each other, and he doesn't understand why flint shows up at the hospital and seems genuinely worried about him. (roles could be reversed--author's choice).

#Silverflint Summer Challenge #Silverflint #prompts #Black Sails #fanworks challenge

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angelicdestieldemon · 3 years

Text

Hot Chocolate (Day 2 of Christmas)

Prompt was Hot Chocolate, as you will see it kinda got away from me.

SHIP: Barisi

Requests are open for the next 23 days, I write for Barson, Bangan, Barisi and potentially other Rafael Barba ships (even other Raúl Esparza characters too), just talk to me on asks or private messages.

It was a bad morning, first Rafael slept in, then the hot water was out in his apartment and he was forced to take a cold shower. Then, his coffee machine decided this was going to be the morning it didn’t brew coffee even when he knew the timer had been set. The line was too long at his back-up coffee shop due to his lateness which meant he was arriving at the office on a bad morning without coffee. Queue an angry Cuban with snow in his hair and a tired expression stomping his way through Hogan Place to his office where his assistant Carmen was sitting at her desk talking with the one person Rafael was not in the mood to deal with, former detective now ADA Carisi. The happiest man alive.

Rafael is about to walk straight through to his office when he stops short at the sight of three coffee cups sitting on Carmen’s desk. Before he can stop himself Rafael almost slumps in relief.

“Please, please tell me one of those is for me?” Rafael pleads, foregoing any semblance of pride, frankly, he was lucky he wasn’t already on his knees.

Carisi turns to face him, that sunny smile directed his way is a punch in the chest and Rafael is definitely fighting to keep his knees steady. Carisi grabs the largest coffee cup and holds it out for Rafael to take, and Rafael leaps across the floor to take it from him, he doesn’t even realise until the cup is finished that in his haste, Rafael had trapped Carisi’s hand around the cup with his own. Rafael freezes refusing to make eye contact with the ADA.

“Can I have my hand back, please?” Carisi asks although it sounds more like a tease than anything else.

Rafael releases his grip around the cup and Carisi’s hand as if burned, willing himself to forget the warmth of the other man’s hands against his own hands, cold from the freezing weather outside.

“Anything for me this morning, Carmen?” Rafael diverts his attention from the grinning Italian to his assistant who is wearing a look of pure amusement, he glares at her with a tilt of his head, her smirk widens.

“Just your meeting with ADA Carisi,” she grins.

Rafael takes a deep breath and walks over to his office door, gesturing for Carisi to follow, “Come on, then Carisi, I don’t have all day.”

Rafael has lost track of how many times he has paced the room, trying to will himself to stay awake, Liv is sitting across the room from him equally as tired, her head resting in her hand.

“How much longer is this going to take?” He grumbles, his voice low and raw, this day has been far too long, all he wants to do is go to bed, but until the Sting has been completed, all they can do is wait.

The rest of the team is undercover, Carisi nipped out a while ago to answer his mobile and hasn’t returned which leaves Rafael and Olivia in her office, waiting for a phone call to let them go home.

Giving up on the relentless pacing, he collapses on the couch and before he can stop himself, he is leaning back to rest his head in Liv’s lap. Only after he’s closed his eyes does he realise what he’s done. However, before he can build the energy to move, one of Liv’s hands is in his hair, petting the mess of brown locks that he didn’t bother to put any product in this morning, in his haste to get ready.

“Do you want me to move, I think I have just enough energy to get myself back up?” He mumbles, feeling himself falling asleep more and more by the second.

The movement of her shaking silent laughter wakes him up again, but he still feels drowsy. “I don’t think you can go anywhere without coffee, and seeing as I’m stuck here, I think neither of us going anywhere to get some any time soon.” Rafael can hear the smile in her words. “You’re out of luck today, Rafa, the coffee fairy has taken the rest of the night off.”

He opens his eyes, to meet Liv’s looking down on him, her nails gently scratching across his scalp, “You’re a cat, Rafa, I’m surprised you aren’t purring.”

If it didn’t feel so good, he’d bat her hand away.

“How’s Noah, is he excited for Christmas?” He asks instead.

Rafael had been thinking about Noah a lot lately, mostly while passing toy stores on his days off, few and far between as they are, but it’s also impossible to think about this time of year without thinking about children and unlike his cousin’s kids and Amanda’s, Noah is the only child he knows well. Like a Christmas tree, Liv lights up in a way only discussion or sight of Noah can manage.

“He’s good, he’s currently working on his list to Santa. If I hear the word puppy one more time I may explode so- don’t you dare,” she scolds as he opens his mouth, Liv clamps her hand over it, a grin playing on her lips at his childishness, but he merely quirks an eyebrow until she removes her hand. “He’s been asking after his favourite Uncle… and you of course,” this time Rafael does swat her hand away but then moves it back to his head after he’s made his point.

“I miss him, but I’m glad he’s happy, let me know what’s on his list to Santa, I’d like to get him something he wants,” he asks, usually shopping for children makes him nervous but for Noah, Rafael is looking forward to the prospect.

“He’d love that, what are your plans for Christmas, are you spending it with your mother?” She asks, her nails moving down to his neck, softly scratching as his skin.

“No, she’s going on a cruise with some of my cousins, they invited me along but being stuck on a boat with my family for two weeks sounds more like hell than a holiday, I’ll just watch movies and get some work done,” he replies.

As much as he loves his family, it would be a solid two weeks of questioning his love life, why he doesn’t have any children? If he’s seeing anyone and everything in between.

Suddenly his hair is being gripped hard enough to sting but not enough to really hurt, “You’re planning on spending Christmas alone? Why didn’t you tell me?” She sounds hurt.

“I didn’t want to bother you, you have enough to worry about with Noah, I didn’t want you worrying about me as well,” he reasons, raising a hand to smooth over the stinging part of his scalp.

“You, Rafael Barba, are an idiot. I’m not letting you spend Christmas alone; you’re coming to mine; you can give Noah his present and we’ll have a large dinner that makes us incapable of doing anything other than watching Christmas movies on the couch.” Rafael doesn’t even need to think about it, how could he argue with that, spending Christmas day with his best friend and her son?

Rafael nods his head, and they stay like than in silence for a while, he’s beginning to feel sleepy again when Carisi barrels through the door, the only way he can at three AM, a smile on his face, although even he looks tired.

“Looks like the coffee fairy heard our prayers,” Liv mutters, and Rafael's chest shakes in silent laughter.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” Carisi asks, his expression not matching his confusion if anything Rafael would say he’s upset about something, but that isn’t reflected in his voice.

“Just waiting for that magic phone call that will send us home, anyway, is that coffee, it doesn’t smell like coffee?” Rafael mumbles, the energy he had earlier to move is gone, he’s moving for no one at this point.

“Not exactly, I figured we all might be slowly losing the will to stay awake but given the fact we may be able to go home at any moment I figured hot chocolate was the way to go,” he says, handing a cup to Olivia, pausing before handing Rafael a cup, “However, I also know that if I gave you anything without caffeine, you’d never talk to me again so I asked them to put half a shot of coffee in yours,” Rafael melts at the cheeky but still tired smile Carisi shoots him, even exhausted at three in the morning, Carisi’s smile shines like the sun, it makes Rafael’s heart hurt.

“Thank you, Sonny,” Liv says, breaking the silent tension in the room, a knowing grin on her face that Rafael chooses to ignore, he takes a draw of the drink and sighs as the caffeine hits his tongue, his lips twitching up in a half-smile.

In a brief moment of a caffeine euphoria, he uses the little energy he has to move his legs, letting Carisi sit on the couch with the two of them before placing his legs back in the ADA’s lap. The man shoots him an amused smile, which Rafael responds with only a quirked eyebrow. The room is silent once again, only the softened sounds from the city below disrupting it, but having lived in the city long enough, each of them can reduce it to white noise. The peaceful ambience makes it harder to ignore the warmth Carisi radiates though, he can feel it through where his legs are resting on the man’s lap, and the large hand resting on Rafael’s ankle.

That train of thought leads Rafael down a spiral of wondering how that warmth would feel pressed against his back when he wakes up in the mornings, or how Carisi’s hand would warm his while they walked through the winter streets together. Rafael can’t help but stare at the man, how far he has come from touring precincts to finding a home here in the Manhattan SVU team. From shadowing Rafael to becoming an ADA, the feeling of pride and that little something else that Rafael refuses to name burns in his chest every time he lays his eyes on the man.

Carisi looks up from his phone in time to catch Rafael’s gaze and instead of looking away, Rafael just looks back. There is something between them, but Rafael can’t bring himself to act on it, maybe he’s a coward, but there is too much at risk, or so he tells himself. He doesn’t want to lose the friendship but call it old age, he wants someone to come home to on nights like these. Rafael can see a future with Carisi, he can see it all, the late nights watching films on the couch, days in the office bickering and debating, smirks prominent on their faces.

Rafael is looking forward to spending Christmas Day with Liv and Noah but there is a part of him, bigger than he’s ready to admit to himself, that wishes he could at least wake up in the arms of someone he cares about. Hell, the reason he woke up so late this morning was that he couldn’t bring himself to leave the dream of Carisi’s arms wrapped around him.

Carisi’s gaze is still locked on Rafael’s when Liv’s phone finally rings to tell them the sting was successful, and they can go home to their beds for a precious few hours before coming back in to finish off this case in time for Christmas.

Rafael grabs his stuff with the little energy he has left from the hot chocolate and orders an Uber on his phone, Liv locks up her office behind them and heads home, leaving Rafael and Carisi alone outside the building, the cold air already making Rafael wish the driver would hurry up.

“You don’t have to wait you know? Only one of us has to freeze tonight,” Rafael jokes, but Carisi just sends him a look that says he isn’t going anywhere until Rafael’s car has arrived. For someone who talks a lot, Carisi has been surprisingly quiet tonight, there must be something on his mind, Rafael wonders.

Rafael rolls his eyes in response to Carisi’s expression. A few minutes pass before he sees his Uber pull up, Carisi walks over with him, even going as far as opening the door, like a gentleman. Carisi must see the smirk Rafael is sporting and rolls his own eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Rafael is about to get in the car when he feels a hand on his arm, he turns just in time to see a moment of hesitation pass over Carisi’s face before he’s being kissed.

Rafael’s mind goes blank, his eyes shut automatically, and he finds himself gripping Carisi’s elbow to hold him in place before they break apart. The kiss was chaste and yet utterly perfect, Rafael can’t bring himself to speak but he waves any worry Carisi might have with a smile, a genuinely happy if a little tired, smile.

“Goodnight, Rafael.”

“Goodnight… Sonny.” And there’s that sunshine smile once again.

#rafael barba #Raul Esparza #sonny carisi #Law & Order SVU #barisi #Olivia Benson #Peter Scanavino #mariska hartigay #Raúl Esparza

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emospritelet · 4 years

Note

Twisted Fate prompt 78) “I love you.” “You shouldn’t.”

These prompts have been sitting in my inbox since last August XD. I’m sorry, it took ages for these two to actually start talking about their issues.

[AO3]

Belle had known that a broken arm would be tricky to manage, but she hadn’t realised how helpless she was without Gold around to assist her. Getting dressed was the first obstacle, and she struggled to get out of her nightdress and into her underwear. She discarded any thought of attempting to put on a bra, and after weighing her options, decided on simple sweatpants, a camisole and cardigan. Even brushing her hair with her left hand took some getting used to.

He had left early, so quietly that she hadn’t heard him go, but when she entered the kitchen she found the coffee maker ready to go with decaf, the lid off the tea canister and cooked sliced mushrooms and onions alongside a plate of grated cheese and a bowl containing beaten eggs. The makings of an omelette. It made her smile.

She managed to make the omelette, although it wasn’t about to win any prizes for looks by the time it was on her plate, and ate it at the table with some tea, following it up with decaf coffee and one of the oat and raisin cookies he had made the previous day. Checking the fridge made her smile again; he had portioned up the food he had cooked, glass dishes containing macaroni cheese all ready to go in the oven and beef in red wine in plastic tubs ready for the microwave or to be tipped into a pan.

She spent her day reading and relaxing, rubbing her belly whenever the baby kicked. It was starting to get more uncomfortable the closer she got to her due date. She tried to look ahead six months, when the baby was on the outside, crawling around the apartment. Would Gold still be there? Probably not; she imagined he would move into his own place as soon as her arm was healed, seeing the baby according to the terms in the thick sheaf of documents that she had still not signed. The thought made her feel incredibly lonely.

Emma popped in to see her at lunchtime only briefly, staying for a cup of cocoa and helping her to tie up her hair. She promised to return after class with Neal and Henry, and so by six-thirty they were all seated around the kitchen table, eating their way through Gold’s macaroni cheese.

“This is so good,” said Henry, scraping his plate. “It’s got about a ton of cheese in it. Mom, you should make it like this next time.”

“Thanks,” said Emma dryly. “I thought you liked my mac and cheese.”

“I do, but you always say ‘is that enough cheese’ and I feel like I have to say yes, and it never is.”

“Wow - thanks for the honesty, I guess,” remarked Emma, taking a drink of her wine. Belle and Neal chuckled.

“You can tell Gold it was a hit,” added Neal, digging a fork into his own food. “It’s comforting. Kinda tastes like home, you know?”

“He’s an annoyingly good cook,” said Belle, in a flat tone.

“Why, that sneaky son of a—” Neal glanced at Henry. “Uh - well, you know what I mean. Belle, somehow I doubt it’s all part of an evil scheme. Maybe he just thinks you need to eat some good food.”

“Yeah, I know I sound unreasonable,” she sighed. “I don’t know where my brain’s at right now. This morning I was wondering how the hell I’d cope on my own, and - and that maybe I’ll miss him when he’s not here and it’s just me and the baby. It’s - it’s like I resent the fact that he’s stepping up, and I don’t really understand it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being emotional.”

She poked at her food, feeling despondent.

“You resent that he’s making you feel things?” said Emma, with a knowing look in her eyes, and Belle pulled a face.

“Maybe.”

“Can’t be angry with him anymore, and you still feel like you should be?”

Belle put down her fork.

“Okay, did you take psych class today or something?”

Emma put a hand over hers, grinning.

“I get it, that’s all,” she said. “Don’t get too hung up on what you think you should be feeling. Do whatever’s best for making you happy.”

Belle thought about that for a moment.

“I’m not sure what that is,” she said eventually, and Emma shrugged.

“Give it time.”

There was silence except for the scraping of plates while they finished up, and Neal offered to wash up. Dessert was ice cream, brought by Emma, and Henry went to eat his in front of the TV while Neal dried the dishes and Emma finished her wine.

“Do either of you want coffee?” asked Belle. “You’ll probably have to help me make it, but you’re welcome.”

“I could use one,” said Neal, over his shoulder. “Let me make it. You want one?”

“I’ll have tea. Peppermint, I think. The baby’s been kicking so much today it gives me heartburn.”

He dried his hands, and Belle pushed back her chair to go to the bathroom. When she got back the coffee maker was running, and Neal had taken Gold’s old toy rabbit from its place on the shelf beside the fridge. He had a puzzled look on his face as he turned the rabbit over and over in his hands, and Belle was reminded of Gold, and the way he had studied it.

“Where’d you get this?” he asked.

“Oh, it belongs to Alex,” she said. “It’s not for the baby, or anything. It belonged to his son.”

Neal looked up.

“He had a kid?”

“Still does, apparently,” said Belle. “They kind of lost touch.”

“How long ago?” asked Emma.

“I think he said his son was two. It was years ago. I’m - I’m not sure how much he really wants me to talk about it. If at all.”

“Oh. Okay.” Emma looked thoughtful. “But he talked to you about it. That’s good, right?”

“Yeah.” Belle took her seat. “He brought the rabbit with him when he moved in, and although I’d seen it before in his shop, I hadn’t thought anything of it. So I asked him. He was - he was probably the most open he’s been with me. I think it made him uncomfortable.”

“Well, practice makes perfect.”

“Yeah.” Belle reached for her peppermint tea. “Here’s hoping for more of that.”

“Does it make you feel better about how he’ll be with the baby?” asked Neal. “I’m not prying into the guy’s private business, but maybe if he’s had a kid and you know that he loved that kid, it might make you feel a bit easier about this one, you know?”

Belle thought for a moment.

“Yeah, he definitely loves his son,” she said. “I could see it in his eyes. It was kind of heartbreaking, to be honest. So yes, I do think he’ll love our child. I - I think he already does.”

“Have you guys talked about how you’ll divide up caring for the baby?”

“No.” Belle ran her hands over her face, huffing air through her fingers. “He went to his lawyer. Drew up a huge document that I can’t face reading through and told me to get some legal advice.”

“He’s right to say that.”

“I know.” Belle sat back in her chair with a sigh. “I just - I just can’t at the moment. Every time I think about our lives being tied up in clauses and sub-clauses and stupid legal terms, I want to cry.”

Neal and Emma shared a glance.

“Well, I guess since he’s living with you at the moment, there’s no rush,” said Emma reasonably.

“Yeah, plenty of time to lawyer up when he moves out,” added Neal.

“Yeah.”

Belle picked up her tea, feeling subdued, and there was a moment of silence.

“Maybe we can make Fridays a thing,” suggested Emma. “He said he’d be in Maine every week, so we could come over and keep you company.”

“I don’t know if he’ll stick to Fridays.”

“He said he had an appointment to keep,” said Emma. “Said it would be every Friday.”

“An appointment?” Belle frowned. “He never mentioned it. I know he has rent to collect, but I thought he was getting someone to do that for him.”

“Huh. Well, it’s only a suggestion.”

“No, it’s a good one,” said Belle. “I’ll ask him what his plans are.”

“Sounds good.” Emma took a slurp of coffee. “Okay, who’s up for a game of cards? Loser buys dessert next week.”

Gold returned when it was almost ten, looking drained and tired, although he greeted her pleasantly. Belle found herself wanting to make him tea and feed him something, and felt a little useless when he insisted on seeing to himself. He made her chamomile tea, and regular tea for himself, along with a sandwich that he made short work of in the kitchen before bringing his tea through to the lounge. She was curled in a chair, a book tented on the arm as she sipped at her drink, and he lowered himself onto the couch, perching on the edge with his elbows resting on his knees, an aura of tension hanging around him.

“How was your day?” he asked. “Did you manage everything okay? Did your friends come over?”

“Yeah, it was fine,” she said. “Your mac and cheese was a hit, by the way. Henry thought it was awesome.”

He smiled faintly.

“Good.”

“We talked about making it a regular Friday night get-together,” she added. “But I wasn’t sure if we could, what with your work thing.”

“My work thing?” said Gold, looking confused.

“Emma said you had a regular appointment in Maine,” she prompted. “So I was wondering if that was gonna be every Friday or not.”

Gold hesitated only briefly.

“I can go every Friday, if that makes it easier for you to organise things.”

“Good.” She took a sip of her drink. “In that case I’ll ask them to come over for movies and popcorn. It’ll be nice to have some company.”

“Right,” he said. “Yes.”

“Which means the rest of the week, we have each other for company,” she said, keeping her tone light. “Which we should make the most of, don’t you think?”

His eyes narrowed a little.

“In what way?”

“I - I thought maybe we could talk some more,” she said. “I thought - well, the conversation we had the other night. I thought that was - useful.”

Gold held her gaze steadily for a moment, then looked away, elbows shifting on his knees, fingers threaded together.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, it felt like - progress.”

She could sense his awkwardness, and felt the urge to reach out to him, to send him some sort of comfort, even as she battled with her own anxiety, her own hurt.

“So, we should talk,” she went on. “Clear the air. If you’re willing.”

There was a moment of silence, and his jaw tightened a little, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Alright,” he said at last.

Belle set down her tea, letting her feet slip to the floor as she sat forward a little, instinctively moving closer to him, bridging the space between them until their knees were almost touching. She could hear the light sound of him breathing through his nose, and the faintest scent of him was in the air, making her want to close her eyes and inhale deeply.

“I meant it,” she said softly. “What I said the other night, before the accident. I meant it. I love you.”

His mouth was set in a grim line, his eyes downcast as his head shook slightly: the barest denial.

“You shouldn’t.”

Belle sighed, sitting back.

“That’s not how this works,” she said. “That’s not how any of this works. You can’t just tell someone not to love you.”

He was silent, not looking at her, and she shook her head.

“I wanted to hate you, you know,” she admitted. “There were times when I feel like I wish I could hurt you like you hurt me, but I know that if I had the chance I wouldn’t do it.”

“Of course not,” he said quietly. “That’s not who you are.”

“Oh, I have my moments,” she said. “Pretty sure I’ve cursed you out a hundred times since we broke up.”

“Well, I imagine I deserved it.”

“Yeah.”

She looked at her hands, folded together in her lap, and there was a moment of silence. Glancing up, she could see that Gold’s attention was on the floor at his feet, the space between the toes of his shoes. She wondered what he was thinking.

“I was so hurt, for so long,” she said. “Devastated. And - and after that I got angry. Maybe I still am, I don’t know. I - I keep thinking irrational things, and I don’t always realise that I’m being unreasonable.”

“I don’t think you’re unreasonable,” he said, and took a deep breath. “You said you didn’t trust me. That - that stayed with me, Belle. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “Right.”

“There again, given what I did,” he went on. “I - ah - I don’t suppose I’ve given you much reason to.”

More silence, but somehow it was deafening, as though the space between them was screaming at her. She had to speak, to bridge the gap, to voice her pain.

“You know, that was the worst of it,” she said softly. “Not the things you said, so much, awful though they were. It was more that you felt you could say them. Maybe I’m not making sense, I don’t know…”

He looked up then, his eyes warm, filled with what might have been pain and regret.

“Tell me,” he said. “I need to hear it.”

Belle chewed her lip, trying to organise her thoughts.

“I thought I knew you,” she said. “You didn’t give me much to work with, don’t get me wrong, but the little I got made me think that you - cared - for me. And - and that was okay, because even though you never said it, I felt it. I knew.”

She paused, choosing her words. His mouth had twisted a little, pain etched in the lines around his eyes.

“I’ve always felt that I have a sense about people,” she said. “That I can see past the surface, see what’s inside. So when you did what you did, not only did I realise that I didn’t know you, but it was like I lost my sense of who I was, too.”

Gold nodded slowly.

“Like you couldn’t trust your instincts,” he said. “Couldn’t trust yourself.”

“I - I guess so.”

“Yes.” He dropped his eyes again so that he wasn’t quite looking at her, but at his fingers, laced together. “And that’s why you can’t trust me, either.”

“Uh…” She shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah.”

Gold nodded.

“I understand,” he whispered.

“I want to,” she added. “I want to trust you. I hate this - all of this - between us.” She gestured with a hand, back and forth. “I want it to be better. I do.”

Gold looked up again, smiling a little.

“So do I,” he said. “I’m trying, Belle. I - I know it might not feel like it, but I am.”

He dropped his eyes again, but she sensed he still had more to say, so she remained silent. Gold opened his mouth, looking a little pained.

“It - it wasn’t work,” he said hesitantly, and Belle frowned.

“What?”

“In Storybrooke,” he said. “I said I had to go there for work. That was only partly true. I can sort out the things I need to for my business remotely, I don’t need to go there.”

Belle blinked, surprised.

“Oh,” she said.

More silence. She held her tongue, waiting for him to fill it, and Gold took a breath, his brows lifting a little in the middle, giving him an anxious, somewhat helpless expression.

“I’m going to Storybrooke each Friday because I have a regular appointment,” he said heavily. “To see Dr Hopper. For - for therapy.”

“Therapy?” Belle felt her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Really.”

He caught her eyes very briefly with his before ducking his head again. She wanted to smile, a sense of relief flooding through her. Finally. Finally he asked for help.

“How’s it going?” she asked, and he sighed, that helpless look briefly returning.

“Well, it’s early days,” he said. “It’s - it’s not easy. But there again nothing worthwhile is, so they say. I’m going to keep trying. He’s - I think he’s probably very good at his job.”

“Yeah.” Bless Dr Hopper. If anyone can help, he can. “Well, I’m proud of you.”

Gold looked up sharply, a stricken expression on his face, and she smiled warmly.

“I really am,” she said sincerely. “I’m proud of you. I know how hard it must be to ask for help. It - it makes me feel like you’re really serious about making things better.”

A flicker of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

“I am,” he said. “I promise.”

He held her gaze for a moment, that tiny smile making his eyes gleam. It reminded her of happier times, and there was a lurch deep in her belly at the memories. Gold eventually glanced away.

“We should go to bed,” he said, and threw up a hand as Belle raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I - I didn’t mean we should go to bed, although - okay I did mean that, but I didn’t mean together, I meant - I meant to sleep, that’s all. I meant – oh fuck it, I’ll shut up.”

He sighed, letting the hand drop, and Belle giggled a little, eyes sparkling.

“Sleep sounds good,” she said, and he smiled.

“Right,” he said. “Well.”

He pushed to his feet, grasping his cane and holding out a hand to pull her up. Belle swayed in his grip a little, smiling up at him.

“Goodnight, Alexander,” she said softly.

“Goodnight.”

She let her hand slip from his, picking up her tea and making her way towards the bedroom, feeling his eyes on her back. Slowly, very slowly, they were making progress.

#fic: twisted fate #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #my fic #mrs-stiltskin #thespinningmeanie

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randomguywithwords · 4 years

Text

As The Dust Settles: Chapter 18 (Geten X Dabi Slowburn)

Chapter 18: Reclamation

Previous Chapters: 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

––––––––

Recap From Chapter 17:

“Why’s it seem like you trust me all of a sudden?” Dabi had to ask.

After a moment of silence, Geten mumbled, “I think...I think I just do. You’re not the worst.”

That’s a first.

“So why’d you bury her?”

“Because…” She looked at her hands. “They didn’t deserve it. It’s weird, isn’t it? I got beat up so much by them, but I’m still respecting her.”

“No, it’s not weird. It means…” Dabi considered his next few words. “It means your heart isn’t cold.”

–––––––

“You’re not done here? I thought your job was to dispose of her.” Geten asked as she followed Dabi back to the building where they’d fought.

“Just checking out some things. You can leave if you want,” Dabi said as he turned and walked towards the warehouse.

He expected her to whizz away on her ice, but he heard footsteps behind. He turned back to see her following with her head down.

“What…Ugh. Fine.” He pocketed his hands.

“It’s not like I can leave, I don’t have any more ice, and I can’t walk all the way back or ride the bike,” Geten defended.

The two walked into the warehouse they fought Takame in, which was easy to identify with its shattered walls and charred floor.

Dabi mindlessly ran his hand over the engraved text of “Bushido Enterprises”. He’d seen this place before. Well, not this particular factory, but it seemed this company duplicated their structures down to the blueprint across the country, perhaps with the help of one or more quirks.

He forgot what they were in the business of. Was it weaponry? Construction materials? Or perhaps that innocent building, a twin to this one, was the unfortunate venue chosen for gangs to meet.

He winded through the narrow passageways, with Geten trailing him. How had he known where he was going, as he evaded Takame? The memory had returned to him last night and lingered till now. He retraced his steps, and found himself in a massive clearing, in the centre of the building.

Dabi exhaled as flashes of that night struck his mind like lightning. Fire. Screams. A roar above it all. Yet as quickly as they came, they dissipated, leaving only frustration.

“What are you looking at?” Geten said.

“Not sure,” Dabi uttered. He pressed his hands into his skull, trying to constrict his head into squeezing those lost thoughts out. A chair in the centre, blinded by a spotlight, and the last spark of memory fizzled out. His head snapped up to the catwalk above, but there was no spotlight.

“Trying to remember something?”

He looked at her with his mouth hanging, before he regained his composure. “Maybe,” he admitted. “How would you know?”

“I’ve...done something similar.” She kicked a pebble across the room with her hands in her pocket. “I looked like that when I was frustrated.”

“Your name?” He hadn’t forgotten.

She nodded after a pause. “I guess you’re trying to remember your old name too?”

Noting the blank look on his face, she scoffed. “Come on, don’t think I didn’t know Dabi wasn’t your birth name when we met.”

He waved it off. “I know my name. I’ve abandoned it. And don’t ask me what it is.” He added with a spark of assertiveness.

“Wasn’t planning to, you have your own secrets, I have mine…” She murmured, “Let’s leave it at that.”

Dabi nodded, feeling a twitch of guilt. He sat against one of the crates and looked up at her.

“What about yesterday? Care to tell me now it’s all over?” His eyes met hers in spite of her wearing her hood.

She sighed and sat down opposite him. For a few moments, it was only the two of them suspended in silence. Rays of sunlight permeated through the windows, casting them in a warm glow. Dabi was never one for daytime, with its people and noise, but it was strangely calming.

“Shigaraki talked to me before the meeting. You wouldn’t know, you were gorging on ramen.” She sounded mildly amused.

“I was hungry after training. Sue me.”

“He didn’t say much, but I think he was implying that he was testing me.”

“He’s never went to school, don’t worry, he’d be a shit teacher.”

“I meant he was testing my loyalty.”

“I mean, if slicing up your own people ain’t loyal, I don’t know what is,” Dabi quipped.

She looked up with widened eyes, like a gambler who just realised they had lost. “You know?”

“Some rumours and suspicions. So it’s true.”

“I’m not proud of it...now,” She spoke, and sounded truthful.

“Keep going.” Dabi waved dismissively.

“I was paranoid that the whole assignment was set up by Shigaraki, and that you were here to spy for Shigaraki.”

Dabi barked out a laugh. “Not in a million years.”

“Well, it sure made me suspicious. I kept thinking you had orders to kill me if I made the wrong move. My loyalty was in question, wasn’t it?”

His expression sombered. Well, that explains a lot. “I kept wondering why you were being so stubborn about continuing. If the others or Shigaraki found out you failed the assignment, it wouldn’t look good for you either.”

She nodded rigidly, like a robot toy with rusty joints. Dabi exhaled. So she was going into Tokugawa with that much baggage...while I was whistling and kicking back against leather chairs.

Yet he wasn’t punished, while she took all of Takame’s hits and ended up in this state. He clenched his fists, feeling a hydra of emotions emerge – anger, shame, guilt, twisting and churning, all inside him.

“I was in a place like this before, sometime in my past,” He said, which drew her eyes to meet his, with evident intrigue towards the spontaneous sharing. “It’s why I wanted to come here. To look around, see if I remember anything.”

The words burst from his mouth. His brain sent alarm signals, asking what the hell he was doing. Sharing something, he responded. Maybe sharing something about himself would make her hate him less. Because he sure as hell would hate her if he had to take a beating as bad as the one she took, just to buy time to save her.

“You want to reclaim your past? Why?”

He was still staring at her, and it was that question, Why, and her white hair, that clicked in his head.

He remembered someone else he held close with long white hair like hers. His heart clenched. Is that why I’m doing this?

“Probably time I did so.” He got to his feet and offered a hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Don’t you want more time?” She took it, wincing a little.

“Yeah, but you need to rest. I think I’m done here anyway.”

The two exited the warehouse towards the bike, and as Dabi surveyed the factory for the last time, something bit at him. He forgot something, but what was it?

––––––

“I’ll...make sure you don’t get killed. By Shigaraki, or, whoever,” Dabi said, hoping he was loud enough to be heard with the wind whooshing past on the motorcycle. Because he did not want to repeat that.

He felt her arms tighten slightly against his torso. “Thanks,” She murmured.

Silence folded onto them once again.

––––––

“I’m back.” Dabi shut the door behind to see Shigaraki on a chair, with multiple metallic surgical devices operating on his open arm, and that was a light way of describing it.

Such was Shigaraki’s desire, anyway, as he had shared a while back with just the League. It was one hell of an ambition, one Dabi could get behind, but definitely not to the extent of sitting in that rusty chair of the Doc.

Picking between looking at his leader in the eye and beholding the grisly tendons and bones that looked more at home at a slaughterhouse, it was a difficult choice indeed, but Dabi had to settle for eye contact.

“That took a while,” Shigaraki stated, but didn’t say anything further. Was he expecting Dabi to explain himself, or was that his indifference?

“I’ve got some questions about the mission. But first, what the hell are you doing?”

“Hmm?” Shigaraki inspected a bit of flesh that landed on his chest, apparently unconcerned with the discontinued surgery from the doctor that had left the room a while ago. “Oh, just learning some biology. Did you know if you tear open someone’s left arm like this, it hurts like shit?”

“Could have fooled me.” Dabi noted Shigaraki’s bored countenance.

“Yeah, well, can we get to your questions about the missions? I’m getting tired entertaining guests.”

“Why’d you pick me and Apocrypha?”

“Thought it would be good for both of you. Get some fresh air away from the city, y’know, let you two hook up if you wanted to…”

Dabi’s brow twitched. “And your other reason?”

“Seeing if she’s good enough to serve as a lieutenant. I never got to hear your take, by the way, seeing as you left the meeting midway to finish your chores.”

“She did fine.” More than fine. “No reason to demote her or anything.”

“Hm.” Shigaraki sounded unimpressed. “If you say so. She’s your co-leader in the regiment.”

And you said you wouldn’t give a shit about what went on within the regiment, as long as it worked...There was probably some truth to that, the only exception being Shigaraki’s suspicion of Geten’s loyalties given her past. If he held true to his word now, Shigaraki would lay off her back for the time being now that that Takame fiasco was over.

“Yeah, she’s a bit annoying, but otherwise she’s decent.”

“Mmhmm…” Shigaraki went back to tracing a finger on his exposed bone. “Well, any more questions?”

“Mesa.” Dabi trained his eyes onto him to catch any signs of recognition. Catch them off-guard with information they don’t expect you to have, and you’ll see if they’re hiding something.

“S’cuse me?” Shigaraki looked more confused than annoyed. Nothing. Guess it wasn’t him. That leaves a couple more people.

“I sneezed, sorry. I got nothing else,” Dabi deadpanned.

“Well, bless you, and GTFO,” Shigaraki snarked.

“Thanks. Good luck on your surgery.” Dabi turned to leave with a lazy wave.

“Oh yeah, good job on the assignment, by the way,” Shigaraki said, as Dabi ambled to the door. “Feel free to resume your own business, with Hawks or whoever. Just keep him in check. If he pries too much, I’ll have to pluck him out.”

“So you don’t trust him either?”

“I’d be disappointed if you ever did.”

Dabi gave a short laugh as he held the doorhandle. At least they were on the same page about something. “Don’t worry. I’ll drag him to this doorstep if need be.”

If there was a reply from Shigaraki, it was lost to the echo in the chamber.

–––––

Hope you liked it. If you’re still into this story, thanks for sticking through my shitty upload schedule. I’m getting tired of apologising for delays. At this point it’s safer to assume I’m on hiatus until my exams are over. Might post things. Might not.

#bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #dabi x geten #geten x dabi #dabiten #getenxdabi #bnha geten #mha geten #bnha dabi #mha dabi

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