#your reblogs and comments and kudos made me so happy last weekend
Link
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Mentalist
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon
Characters: Patrick Jane, Teresa Lisbon, Wayne Rigsby
Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Late Nights at the CBI, Pining
Series: Part 3 of burning the midnight oil
Summary:
“You aren’t allowing yourself more, because you don’t think you deserve it”, Lisbon says.
“Interesting theory”, Jane says. “But not quite right.”
#hey guys#your reblogs and comments and kudos made me so happy last weekend#so i decided to put my two braincells back to work and here we are#hopefully i'll be able to continue with the roadmaps series soon too#the mentalist#jisbon#fan fiction#my fic
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hello and welcome to the february fic rec featuring my favourite works from what i’ve read during the past weeks. as always, please check tags before reading. if you liked the fics please reblog their posts, leave kudos and write a nice comment. happy reading!
rec tag | more rec lists
— harry/louis —
໑ Time Stamp: Valentine's Day from Heart Beat by @allwaswell16
(E, 1.7k, established relationship, romantic trip, valentine’s day)
A romantic weekend away for Valentine's Day
໑ i want real love baby (don't leave me waiting) by loulovep
(NR, 2k, established relationship (or not?), farmer harry, city boy louis, fluff, valentine’s day)
Harry thought of the perfect date for (his boyfriend?) Louis. Nothing goes to plan.
໑ a little bit of you by @lvinlou
(T, 2.3k, strangers to lovers, a/b/o, fairy louis)
Louis is a cute omega who loves autumn and baking cupcakes. However, when he goes to the supermarket to get the last ingredient for his recipe, strawberry jam, he meets Harry, a grumpy alpha who is unwilling to hand over the last jar.
໑ your face is like a melody by @meloummy
(NR, 2.4k, alternate universe, friends to lovers, singer louis, stage fright)
Where Louis is a singer who needs his boy in the most critical moments.
Or where Harry helps his superstar and shows him how much he loves him.
໑ I'm gonna love you forever and ever by houisminou
(M, 3k, established relationship, a/b/o au)
louis is independent, he is a free omega, except when he is with his alpha, then he just wants to be holded and taken care of
໑ the prints of your hands are still on my canvas by puppyvirginloui
(NR, 4.5k, exes to lovers, a/b/o au, nesting, jealous harry)
Harry and Louis broke up not long ago. Everything was fine until then, problems started with Louis’ heat just around the corner, an important presentation that he could not miss, and a very visible (or more like invisible) alpha that could help him go through his heat.
And then Harry shows up. (Again.)
໑ no one's gonna take my soul away by puppyvirginloui
(spanish, NR, 6.7k, strangers to lovers, a/b/o au, dark fic, shapeshifting, read tags and author’s note)
Nunca te metas con un omega en celo.
໑ and then, i wait there for you by punk_pillow_princess / @punkpillowprincess
(M, 9k, established relationship, marriage proposal, valentine’s day, miscommunication)
Harry has always dreamed of having his “happily ever after”, but hasn't found the right one yet. Suddenly, he meets Louis.
໑ Fortune cookies by DaxitaIsDaydreaming
(spanish, T, 10.6k, friends to lovers, valentine’s day)
Louis y Harry han sido amigos desde que tienen memoria. Catorce años, para ser justos. Están enamorados el uno del otro pero ninguno cree conveniente confesarlo por temor a perder la amistad que han construido durante todos estos años. Sin embargo, San Valentín les tiene preparado una sorpresa. Un pequeño empujón en forma de galletas de la fortuna. Depende de ellos el futuro de su relación.
໑ The Unsuccessful Promise by @trysomecats
(T, 15k, enemies to lovers, a/b/o au, high school)
At the end of the previous school year, Louis swore to everyone that he would return in the fall as an alpha. He made this promise especially to his arch-nemesis Harry Styles, who has already presented as an alpha himself. Unfortunately over summer break, the worst thing possible happens: Louis presents as an omega. Now school is back in session and he has to return and face the consequences of pre-determining his status.
Featuring Liam and Zayn as Louis' doting and exasperated parents.
໑ Gemini Rising by Speechless
(E, 23.4k, roommates au, quirky harry, frustrated louis, angst and humour)
Louis might as well give it a shot.
Maybe - just maybe - if he starts crossing boundaries in the same reckless way Harry does, that lunatic will get the message.
So he starts invading Harry's space any way he can think of.
໑ You Bring Blue Lights To Dreams by @starryhazelou
(E, 30k, strangers to lovers, soulmates au, cowboy harry, veterinarian louis, light angst)
Finding your soulmate had been described to Harry as, “finding the answers to the universe.” As the years passed, he would become restless trying to find his. Everyone was born with identical birthmarks on their bodies tying them together. With the combination of living in a small town, along with having a mark that was constantly obstructed by clothing, he was beginning to lose hope.
໑ the road not taken by teenytinytomlinson / @hs3lt2
(E, 35k, friends with benefits, famous harry, non-famous louis, holidays)
The one where Harry returns back home for the holidays after a successful debut album, leaving Louis to unwrap gifts as well as old complicated feelings. Cue: hometown holiday hookups, overbearing siblings, and a disastrous New Year’s Eve party. A 'Tis’ the Damn Season' inspired au.
໑ give my love a four letter name by @levelofcharm
(E, 46.6k, enemies to lovers, angel/demon relationship, angel louis, demon harry, supernatural elements)
Louis hates Harry because he's a demon. Harry hates Louis because Louis hates him. Things change.
໑ Paradise is getting closer by louislovesh28
(M, 52.6k, friends with benefits, supernatural au, hunter louis, journalist harry, read tags)
Louis hated his life, which consisted only of death and destruction. Despite the lives he had saved and continued to save, a part of him couldn't feel satisfied.He had been the one who gave up a normal life and although he knew what was to come, the loneliness had never left him in all these years, not even for a second. He felt it in his heart every time he approached a target, he felt it in the few minutes before falling asleep in his dingy car or while he allowed himself a few hours of sleep before setting off again, and he felt it every time he closed that door behind him.
— extra —
i don’t usually self promo here but i’d like to invite all of you to read the smau my friend and i are working on. it updates daily in the morning (central time). please check it out, it’s called Running with the Wolves.
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List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers 💛💛💛
Thank you for including me in the chain!!!
1) music and sharing it with others. I used to make a ton of playlists on 8tracks when that was a thing and i’ve just gotten back into doing it on Spotify to share with others (i have a ton on Apple Music since that’s my primary music service but sharing on that is hard)
The best thing in the world is hearing a friend tell me they liked a song or two in specific from a playlist I shared with them.
2) cosplay. Which I’m going to be doing this coming weekend at Katsucon. I’ve made a large majority of my friends at conventions through mutual cosplays and they are all so precious to me.
3) my dog. Auggie has been in my life for all but two months of her life and she is everything to me. I would be lost without her. She is my light and my anchor.
4) I’ve really gotten back into writing lately and seeing comments on my work saying they enjoy it is so wonderful to my shitty self esteem. I used to write a lot more when I was younger and gave up on it when the feedback drained away to nothing. It’s nice to have it back. Big thanks to the kind souls in the Ghost fandom for the kudos.
5) Amusement parks - especially at Halloween. The combination of riding rides while surrounded by my favorite holiday? Heaven. I’ve been so over the moon with Hersheypark’s Halloween event (big shout out to the radical cast and to the small crew from Decayed Brigade for making me so happy ;.;), but Busch Gardens Howl-O-Scream was also amazing the one time I got to go. I also had a weak spot for getting to go to Not So Scary at Disney World that one time.
Again, thanks! I love getting messages ❤️
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I really hope you did not bail on continuing the dandelion Inn. That would break my heart a little. As long as I know you will continue/finish it eventually I can wait (very impatiently but still..).
Okay so typically I don't respond to things like this, but ignoring the last few I've gotten here and on twitter obviously hasn't worked, so here we go.
Yeah, don't do this.
You're trying to be funny, but this is a not-at-all-veiled "NEXT CHAPTER WHEN, WRITE MORE." And just...no.
You—and by "you" I mean the group of y'all that send comments like this to me and others, not this anon specifically because I don't know you—obviously mean for this to inspire me to write faster, but what this actually does is piss me off and make me work on something else. Why? Because it's not kind, it treats me like a production machine instead of a person, and it, frankly, makes you seem like an ungrateful asshole. Sorry! But true.
I find that people who write these comments typically—and I literally don't know who you are so idk in this situation—aren't the ones leaving long, detailed, enthusiastic comments on every chapter on every reread. Not the ones earnestly and consistently reblogging and retweeting and writing thoughtful commentary or even excited tags. You come off as an unengaged and ungrateful reader who will leave kudos but nothing else, and two days after I post will be saying "when is the next oneeeee" which is so frustrating.
I spend hours on these chapters. Literal hours of my life. If you want the next one so badly (and to be clear, I'm glad that you do), write me a long ass comment or ask about what you loved in the last chapter and what you're excited to see in the next. That motivates the shit out of me. That makes me happy and excited to write what's next.
This morning I woke up early with the intention of going into the office and working on Dandelion until my first meeting. But instead, I'm writing this. We all lose, basically. I am way less interested in writing it this morning than I was 30 minutes ago. And that sucks! I love writing, I love writing this fic, and I love being engaged with y'all. You just need to treat me like a person and understand that this "write faster, gimme" bs does not work. I don't know anyone this works for, so honestly, just stop it.
Next time you're desperate for another chapter of one of your favorite fics, try this: "Hey, I just reread [x fic] for the [6th] time because I'm obsessed!! My favorite part of this chapter is when [character] said [quote from fic]. I couldn't stop [laughing and my grandma thought I was dying]. Last night I couldn't sleep thinking about what will happen when [character] finds out [secret]. I'm not sure if she's going to [reaction A] or [reaction B] but mostly I just want them to KISS [IN THE RAIN]!!! I love you forever and ever, byeeeee"
And just in case this hasn't landed, here's another way to put it. If you are not in the following situation, I literally do not want to hear your thoughts on how quickly I write. If you're doing all of this, I welcome your feedback on my pace of fic output:
Drafting an original novel
Revising an original novel that is honestly your very best hope of being published and that is about to be sent to publishers
Watching as your second novel, Firefly, one of your loves, slowly dies in the hands of publishers, meaning that your agent, who you have worked with for over 2 years now, has still not made a single fucking penny off of you, and might drop you as a client
Celebrating your wife's birthday and generally spending time with her because you love her and value your relationship with her
Working on a long fic with a partner that you really care about and have a deadline for
Working a day job that is so intense and stressful you literally spent 5 hours the other weekend (on your writing day) ensuring that a student didn't do something to themself. Sorry I couldn't work on Dandelion that day, I need to make sure this person did not die.
Having a chronic, persistent, and ultimately probably terminal disease that makes you so exhausted sometimes you can't lift your head up after a work day
*insert gif I can't find of Lucy saying thanks for playing!*
Like I said, I hate doing this, I hate writing this, I hate responding to this, but ignoring hasn't worked, so here we are. Please don't make me say it again.
#ettiquette#fic comments#don't be a jerk#i am a person#let's never have to have this conversation again please
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lululawrence’s May 2021 Fic List
Previous Fic Lists / Fic List Podcast Masterpost
May somehow managed to escape my grasp and here we are again! I got a weekend away from the kids this month, which allowed me the chance to finally read for hours on end, and I therefore have quite a few fics to talk about! They were truly amazing, I loved every single one, and I hope you appreciate them too!
If you’d like to hear me share my excitement about these fics verbally and in more detail, you can listen to this month’s podcast here.
As always, be sure to show your love and appreciation for all of the hard work our fandom authors have put into their fics with kudos, nice comments, and (when applicable) reblogging their fic posts!
Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by @sadaveniren / SadaVeniren (42k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, A/B/O, Royalty AU, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Innocent Harry, Sheltered Harry, Arranged Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, but HOW DO THEY GET THERE?? lol, Mpreg, Heat/Rut, Poor as shit sex education lmao, Okay but for real the world building in this was incredible, I can still see the pictures in my mind that I conjured up for certain parts of this fic, It is incredible and the PINING AND ANGST OMG)
reckless serenade by @thepolourryexpress / thepolourryexpress (4k, E, Harry/Louis, Girl Direction, This one is a bit hard to explain lmao, ....Non-Established Relationship.... relationship, it makes sense in the fic lol, clueless idiots in love, there we go, friends to lovers, humor, fluff, This is beyond sweet and fucking sexy)
a little tenderness by @disgruntledkittenface / disgruntledkittenface (11k, NR, Harry/Niall, 1D A/B/O Fest fic, Alpha Harry, Omega Niall, Touch Deprivation, Nesting, Cuddling, Scenting, Ace Harry, Fluff, Okay listen this fic was so fucking soft I cannot express to you, It was HEALING, I cryyyyyy it was just so beautiful)
What if I'm someone you won't talk about? by @louloubabys1992 / louloubaby92 (58k, M, Harry/Louis, Fine Line Fest fic, Song Fic, Based on Falling, Famous/Non-Famous, Childhood Sweethearts, Exes to Lovers, Kind of but not really at the same time?, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending but there’s fucking angst okay? lol, Hurt/Comfort, Sex Work, Exploitation, References to Rape, PTSD, There’s a lot of dark shit in here, please please please read the tags and keep yourself safe, But if you can handle it then fuck it was an fascinating story for sure!)
When Least Expected by @all-these-larrythings / Rearviewdreamer (22k, M, Harry/Louis, Quarantine Fic, Single Parent Louis, Teacher Harry, Mentions of Depression, Online Dating? Kind of?, Maybe it’s more like Long Distance dating, except they’re in the same city, anyway, Pining, Flirting, Oblivious boys, Soft, This fic was the epitome of soft, It was so incredibly healing to read it, So cathartic and beautiful and lovely, It just made me so happy and at peace reading this fic, and I really didn’t expect that from a quarantine fic tbh)
so c'mon c'mon (and dance with me baby) by @rockstarlouis / theweightofmywords (3k, NR, Harry/Louis, New Year’s Fic, Meet Cute, Louke are together at the beginning but it doesn’t last long, Work Party, but neither Louis or Harry work there lololol, Humor, Drinking, Dancing, This fic was just so short and sweet and fun I loved it)
Pound Cake by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (2k, NR, Harry/Louis, Butthole Series fic, Hurt Louis, Sad Louis, Harry’s birthday, Friends to Lovers, Crack fic lmao, Misunderstandings, This fic was so funny but also somehow sweet, while still being about buttholes, Lauren is a magician what can I say lol)
Get Burned By the Fire by Anonymous (13k, NR, Shawn/Niall, Heartbreak Weather Fest fic, Song Fic, based on Small Talk, Bartender Niall, Mysterious Shawn, Casual Sex, I think that’s how you’d define their arrangement? lol, Pining, Harry and Louis are together and Niall’s besties and coworkers, They’re hilarious through all of this, Even though it’s casual sex or meant to be anyway, It defo is also like... a Breakup Fic, and also Exes to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, It’s all complicated and sooooo fucking gooooood)
The Shooting Star Of Promises And Fears by darkpoets (2k, NR, Harry/Louis, Soulmates, Wishes, This fic is incredibly hard to explain or describe, because the style and feel of it is incredibly unique, It feels almost floaty while you read it, if that makes sense)
Getting a Room by bluespring864 (2k, G, Lewis/Niall, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Banter, Listen this fic is short but packed to the brim with feels, omgggggg SO MANY FEELS, and so so lovely the way it comes together, but also hilarious too?, it’s just very THEM, I could also hear all the lines Lewis says in this fic in his accent, I heard his voice speaking them in my head, and I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud as I sat reading, surrounded by strangers lmao, It was so awkward but worth it)
Caves End by @jacaranda-bloom / jacaranda_bloom (40k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, Famous/Non-Famous, Farmer Louis, Rancher Louis is maybe better?, I’ll put both cause Dee said farmer lmao, Footballer Harry, Australia fic, Horseback Riding, Angst, Miscommunication, Dee’s tags about that are hilarious please read them, Hurt/Comfort, This fic is just EVERYTHING, okay, It was so incredibly good)
and all I think about is you and safer by your side (parts 4 and 5 of where the lights are beautiful) by @polkadotlou / twoshipsdrifting (1k each, T, Harry/Louis, Alternate Universe, A/B/O, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Established Relationship, Mentions of Heat, Drabbles, Listen this whole series is amazing, and if you haven’t read it then these drabbles won’t have the same power they do otherwise, but they are SO DAMN GOOD OKAY)
Counterculture by @sadaveniren / SadaVeniren (6k, E, Harry/Louis, Omega Harry Fest, A/B/O, Omega Harry, Alpha Louis, Famous/Non-Famous, Underground Clubs, Pack Dynamics, Scenting, Public Sex, Orgies, Pregnancy and Lactation Kink, Like... this fic is FILTHY while still having super cool worldbuilding elements in it, and it’s kinky as shit cause Sada, In other words this is fantastic)
Say Something by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (105k, E, Harry/Louis, Alternate Universe, A/B/O, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Older Harry, Age Difference, Heat/Rut Partners, Friends to Lovers, Kind of?, It’s Complicated lol, MPreg, Divorced Harry, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Harry has a lot of shit to work through, It all works out and it’s so fucking good)
The Until Series by @allwaswell16 / allwaswell16 (62k total, Harry/Louis (parts 1 and 3), Niall/Shawn (Part 2), Big Bang fic and Heartbreak Weather Fest fic, Song Fic, Seriously the whole albums is basically the inspiration lol, Cowboy Harry, Child Actor Harry, Cowboy Shawn, Songwriter Louis, Singer Niall, Farm Fic, Enemies to Lovers, Misunderstanding, So good just all of it, Dumb boys in love lol)
That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright (50k, T, Harry/Louis, but also Harry/Nick at the beginning, Big Bang fic, Girl Direction, Based on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, It’s like an extension and starts where the movie ended, So cool in that way I loved it, Grimmy and Louis are step-siblings, Friends to Lovers, No Cheating if that’s a concern, Sexuality Crisis but it’s more of like a Gay Awakening, Coming of Age story in that way, So freaking soft like omg, I just really freaking loved this fic)
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2020 fics
Back in 2019 when I first came back to writing fic after a couple years break, I made a list with all the fics I’d written that year, so I figured I’d make one for my 2020 fics too! While in other aspects 2020 wasn’t a great year, I do think I did pretty well writing-wise. I wrote eight fics, as well as some smaller ficlets that I only posted here on my tumblr. All of them were Captive Prince fics like last year, because I still can’t let these books or its characters go. I really love all of the fics I wrote, and the response to them was great as well. I really want to thank everyone who left me kudos or comments on AO3, or liked, replied, or reblogged my posts here on tumblr. It always makes me so happy when someone finds a way to let me know that they enjoyed my writing, so thank you! 💖 Below, I’ve listed all of the fics with links to AO3 and/or tumblr. I’ve included summary, rating, word count, and the most important tags. If you wanna know more about them, you can find it in the tags or author’s notes on AO3, or you can send me a message.
Our Unconventional Courtship [AO3] [Tumblr: One, Two, Three]
Rating: G, Word Count: 2089, Tags: Prank War AU
When Damen finds Auguste in the grocery store, he decides that this is the perfect moment to get back at him for the prank he pulled on Damen. Everything goes exactly as Damen planned. Everything except for the fact that the person whose shoes are now covered in raw eggs wasn’t Auguste at all, and that instead Damen now finds himself staring at the most beautiful man he has ever seen. He doesn’t know yet that the man turns out to be Auguste’s little brother Laurent, nor that this will be the beginning of a prank war between them that partially serves to disguise their flirting.
The Truth About Our Marriage [AO3] [Tumblr]
Rating: Not Rated, Word Count: 733, Tags: Oversharing College Professors AU
It was busy at the faculty drinks, much more so than usually. But the news was that Professor Damen might be bringing his sweetheart of a husband with him if they were able to find a babysitter to watch their two children, and Professor Laurent was bringing his husband who he once spent seven hours in bed with.
When their students finally meet their respective husbands, they're in for a surprise.
what never was and never will be [AO3]
Rating: Teen, Word Count: 2433, Tags: Soulmate AU, Warnings: Major Character Death, References to Canon-Typical Themes
As Damianos is whipped in front of him, Laurent can feel his own chest start to bruise. There seems to be some heavy object pressing against it from the inside that is trying but failing to reach out to Damianos. At the same time, neverwere memories are flashing in front of his eyes, showing him a fated life involving both Laurent and Damianos that will no longer come to pass.
Both of these things should not be possible. Not unless Damianos was dying in front of him. More importantly, it would require Damianos to be Laurent’s soulmate.
The Downsides of Having a Teenage Baby Brother [AO3] [Tumblr: One, Two]
Rating: Teen, Word Count: 1841, Tags: Modern AU, Sex Ed
When Auguste first learned that Laurent had found himself a boyfriend, he was overjoyed. But his joy had been quick to turn to dread the moment he realized that teenagers possessed more hormones than sense.
//
Kastor hadn’t come home for the weekend to deal with Damen and his new boyfriend, but he also didn’t want both of their moms and their dad to be disappointed in him.
Of Soulmates, Books, and Spilled Guacamole [AO3]
Rating: Teen, Word Count: 4131, Tags: Modern AU, Soulmate AU
“You are my soulmate?”
Damen had read those very same words countless of times on his arm and imagined countless of ways they might be said, but he had never thought they would be paired with such disdain.
Or, The first time Damen and Laurent talk is when Damen is over at Auguste’s to watch the game with their friends. Auguste had specifically told them all to stay away from Laurent, who hated drunk people, but Damen just bumped into him in the kitchen, fell on top of him, and spilled all of the guacamole he’d been holding onto both of them as well as the book Laurent had been carrying.
Your Breath in My Lungs [AO3] [Tumblr]
Rating: Not Rated, Word Count: 1073, Tags: Post-Canon
Damen has a nightmare while he is still recovering from his wound, and wakes up with a panic attack. Laurent helps him through it.
Fascinating Reports [AO3]
Rating: Explicit, Word Count: 1356, Tags: PWP
Damen pressed a kiss against the skin right behind Laurent’s ear. “We could do something a lot more interesting than reading reports.” He pulled Laurent’s earlobe into his mouth, softly worried it between his teeth.
“You sound very sure of yourself, but I must say I have my doubts. These reports are very riveting, and I’m not certain your cock would compare well.”
Damen huffed out a breath. “Well,” he said, “if you come with me, I could prove to you that it does.”
Or, Damen tries his best to get Laurent’s attention, while Laurent is ignoring him in favor of some very fascinating reports.
Not Like the Other Blonds [AO3]
Rating: G, Word Count: 1335, Tags: Modern AU, Nurse!Auguste
If Damen ever found out, he would never let Nikandros live it down that he had fallen in love with a blond. Not after Nikandros had complained about Damen’s type for as long as they’d known each other. However, Auguste was nothing like the blonds Damen always fell in love with. Auguste was funny. Auguste was sensible. Auguste was not a bitch. And Auguste had already met the love of his life.
Ficlets
I also wrote some short ficlets here on tumblr that I haven’t cross posted to AO3. You can find those in my tag #ficlet or in my tag #my writing
#captive prince#my writing#mine#i know the secret santa fic only got revealed in the new year#but the event was held for christmas 2020#and i wrote it in 2020 too#so im counting it as one of my 2020 fics
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Ownership - Chapter 29 (A Kylo RenxOC AU)
Cora Ardmore and Kylo Ren work for rival companies, but they don’t know that until after they spend the night together. Once their identities are revealed to each other, it’s a question of who will cave first?
Please leave comments, kudos and reblogs if you like it. If you would like to be tagged, let me know.
Cora’s outfit reference
Warnings: BDSM club, Language, Fetish wear, Sexual situations, A creepy dom who does not understand consent with some creepy kinks, Cock warming, Alcohol, Voyeurism, Dirty talk, Possessiveness
Chapter 29
Cora Ardmore
Over the next few weeks, Kylo and I had made sure to lie low regarding the story. I hadn’t even touched my notes or recordings, instead focusing on this month’s Resistance issue. Leia had heard the news and checked in on me a few times to make sure I was okay. It had been hard to lie to her the first few times, but now it was easier than I liked. It felt wrong to lie and keep secrets from her, but I couldn’t out Kylo to her. Not until the story was out, at least. Kylo and I carried on as normal, going to work through the week before I came over Friday evenings and spent the weekend with him.
This weekend we were visiting Phasma’s again, I wanted to try it out again, and I felt it would be a much-needed distraction for both of us. Hopefully, this time Kylo could keep his focus on me. The outfit choice this time was a lot more revealing and sexier than the first one. A black latex body suit that had a zip along the crotch if Kylo wanted easy access, the body suit came with a belt, gloves, a collar and bunny ears. After adding fishnet stockings and heels, the outfit was complete. Turning in the mirror to look at the back to see the bottom of the suit was thong like to show off my ass. After applying makeup and straightening my hair, I was ready for the club. Whilst this wouldn’t have been my first pick, I felt confident enough to wear it.
Kylo was in the same leather pants as before, only this time he’d opted for wearing a strappy black harness across his chest.
“Eyes on me tonight, right?” I asked teasingly.
“How could I take my eyes off of you when your dressed like that?”
After getting our coats on, we left the house and Kylo drove us to the club. We skipped the line and headed straight inside like before. After handing our coats in, we went inside to the main area and ordered drinks at the bar. This time we had shown up a little later, and Phasma was already out and mingling with the crowd. If she had spotted us, she hadn’t shown it and kept her distance.
Kylo and I took a seat along the sidelines as we sipped our drinks and enjoyed each other’s company.
“Are you up for trying anything tonight?” He asked.
“Maybe after a few drinks I will be.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want too. We can just observe.”
Smiling softly, I kissed his cheek. I knew after how badly my first time had gone here; he wasn’t looking to pressure me into anything. Any trips here now were completely on my terms. Kylo sighed and dug his phone out of his pocket. The caller I.D came up as Snoke, meaning he had to take this.
“I’ll be back in five minutes. Sorry. Maybe take a look around, see if anything takes your interest,” Kylo suggested.
Once he left, I had another sip from my drink before looking around. It couldn’t hurt, maybe I would find something I wanted to try out. The first section I came across was the spanking section, there were some benches in use, other doms had their subs across their knee. Multiple tools were being used to inflict the pleasurable sting, hands, crops, whips, paddles. As I was about to move on to the next section, I accidently bumped into a tall, broad male with short black hair, hazel eyes and a strong jaw of stubble. He was dressed in black latex shorts and boots.
“Sorry,” I apologized.
“Your dom should know better than to leave you unattended, little one,” he replied.
Something in his voice and the way he was looking at me had me feeling uncomfortable. Swallowing my nerves, I tried to step past him, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back, ignoring my sounds of protest.
“Where are you going? Your dom isn’t here, meaning anyone can take you off his hands. You look like you need lessons in obedience,” he growled, pulling me in closer, “if you were my sub I’d have you kneeling by my feet and crawling around this place, I’d use that pretty mouth as my fucking ash tray.”
My discomfort had turned to fear as this guy clearly didn’t understand consent. He was much bigger than me, and my attempts to push him away seemed to do nothing to deter him.
“Let go of me. Please,” I demanded, although my voice didn’t have a hint of confidence.
Before the creep had a chance to say anything else, Phasma was at my side, standing tall with a stern look on her face. An expression I’m sure she reserved for most of her subs that disappointed her or broke rules.
“You were told to let go. If you can’t understand basic consent, then you are not welcome here. Do you understand?” She growled.
The creep let go of me and walked back into the crowd. Phasma placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“Are you okay?” She asked, concern evident in her voice.
“I will be when Kylo gets back.”
“Let me get you a drink,” Phasma insisted.
She wasn’t the kind of woman to take no for an answer, so I followed her to the bar where she ordered us two cocktails.
“I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot last time. I understand I probably didn’t make a great first impression,” Phasma apologized.
This caught me a little off guard, this was the last thing I had expected from Phasma. And I suppose I couldn’t continue to be mad at her when she’d rescued me from that creep.
“I think you’ve made up for that tonight,” I replied.
“I’m glad. However, Kylo should know better than to leave you alone like that. I’m glad I was there to intervene when I did.”
Kylo finally came back from his phone call, smiling at the two of us seemingly getting along and having a drink together.
“I’m glad you two are getting friendly,” he remarked.
“I’m not so happy that you thought it was a good idea to leave her alone,” Phasma scolded him.
“Why? What happened?”
“Another dom thought she was up for grabs, had a hard time taking no for an answer.”
Kylo turned his attention to me, placing a rather possessive hand on my knee, “are you okay, Kitten?”
Nodding, I placed my hand over his. I felt more at ease now that he was back. But instead of feeling afraid of what happened, I now felt angry. Just because I was dressed quite revealing and had been left alone, didn’t mean that guy had any kind of claim over me.
Phasma left the two of us alone, and it wasn’t long before Kylo and I found comfier seating. From across the room I could still see the creep watching the two of us, glaring at me as if I had somehow offended him. A wicked idea crossed my mind, and I leaned in closer to Kylo.
“How about you let me keep your cock warm, sir?” I suggested.
Kylo’s mouth fell open in surprise before a smirk spread across his lips, “here? In front of all these people, Kitten? That’s very bold of you.”
“Please, sir.”
“Are you asking me this because there’s this guy whose been glaring at us for the past five minutes?”
“Maybe.”
“And what better way to show that your mine, Kitten.”
Kylo patted his lap before freeing his fully hard cock from his pants. Eagerly, I unzipped the crotch piece before sliding myself down on to his cock with a moan. Kylo growled and wrapped a possessive arm around my waist whilst his free hand wrapped around my throat. He kissed across my neck, up to my ear.
“Your mine, Kitten,” he snarled.
“Yes, Sir. All yours.”
Maybe this was also my way of telling Phasma that Kylo was mine as much as I was his. A few people had noticed the obscene display and were trying to subtly watch. The creep just seemed more pissed off, and I couldn’t help but smirk smugly in his direction. Kylo’s hips bucked, forcing his cock deeper into me as well as a loud moan from me.
His lips and teeth continued to trail across my neck and shoulder, the hand that had previously been wrapped around my neck now trailed down the front of my bodysuit until he toyed with the open crotch piece.
“Because you’ve been so good tonight, Kitten, I think you deserve a reward,” Kylo declared “and once you’ve had your reward, we’re going to go home where I can ruin you over and over again.”
His fingers slipped inside the latex where he gently circled my clit, my hips bucking into his touch. He smirked against my neck, the loud music drowning out any words we exchanged and my moans to the people who were watching.
The fact that people were watching surprisingly only turned me on more. It was the feeling of being desired, being envied. Kylo nipped his way back up to my ear.
“Fuck, I’d have you like this all the time if I could, Kitten. If I’d known you liked being watched, I would have done this sooner. All these people watching, I bet they don’t know who their more envious of, me or you. You really are perfect, Kitten, and I’m so glad your all mine,” Kylo growled.
Kylo continued to rub my clit, now applying more pressure and rubbing faster so that I would cum quicker. He knew just exactly how to work my body perfectly. As I neared my climax, my walls clenched around his cock, earning a groan from Kylo.
“That’s it, Kitten. Cum around my cock, cum in front of all these people. Let them know that I’m the only one who can make you feel this good,” Kylo continued to encourage.
Within seconds Kylo brought me to my climax, my walls squeezing and twitching around his cock as I cried out my pleasure. Kylo groaned and growled in my ear, his hips bucking against mine as he sought his own relief. He stroked me through every wave, my clit throbbing against his fingers until he had wrung me dry. My back rested against his chest; my breathing heavy as I came down from my high. The people that had been watching went back to whatever they had been doing before and the creep was long gone.
Kylo placed soft, tender kisses to my temple, cheek and neck, “such a good girl for me, Kitten. I’m so proud of you. Let’s get you home so I can reward you more.”
Taglist: @sweetfictionalworld, @sweetsec-93, @cltex84, @jana-banana-fana, @neeharlow
#kylo ren#kylo ren angst#kylo ren fic#kylo ren fanfiction#kylo ren smut#kylo ren fanfic#kylo ren feels#kylo ren fluff#kylo rend au#kylo renxoc#ben solo#ben solo angst#ben solo fanfic#ben solo fic#ben solo smut#ben solo fanfiction#ben solo fluff#ben solo feels#ben solo au#ben soloxoc#star wars#Star Wars fanfic#Star Wars Fic#star wars fanfiction#star wars fluff#star wars feels#star wars smut#star wars angst#star wars au
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Update #2
Ahhh, sorry I'm late! Hope you're all having a good week!
Working my way through the revisions of the older chapters! Really glad I'm doing this; I feel like I didn't really have the time to do the sentence-level revisions because of how I set the schedule. For the next one I think I'll definitely try something else.
I've been working on a pretty time-intensive project for my family recently, so I haven't has as much writing time as I would like, but hopefully I can take a lot of time for Haunted on the weekend.
It was an unexpectedly good day for kudos! Thanks again to everyone who has commented/left kudos/reblogged/retweeted stuff! It means a lot to me!
Below the cut is a scene from ch.5. In the final version it is replaced with the turtles scene, although it takes place on the boat (the trip was longer in the original version). Also I was messing around with canva and I made a collage
Anyway, have a good week! Hope you enjoy!
“Hey, hey wake up.”
Crocodile blinks slowly, looking up to see Doflamingo leaning over the bed, a hand on his shoulder.
“What time is it?” Crocodile grumbles, turning over.
“It’s five, but just come with me for a minute, won’t you? I got something to show you.”
Crocodile groans, but begrudgingly gets up.
Doflamingo looks as exhausted as he feels, and Crocodile promises himself that they are actually going to sleep tonight.
It’s just so tempting not to.
They both have two entire lifetimes of sexual experience; naturally, they’ve been putting it to good use.
As if to remind him of the consequences, Crocodile’s entire body protests when he gets up.
Doffy wraps a fleece blanket around his shoulders and hurries him out of the bedroom, up onto the steps. The sun has not yet risen, but the night’s blackness has receded, leaving a blueish-gray sky in its wake. They move to the port railing. For a moment, nothing happens, and Crocodile is ready to start complaining about being awake for no reason when a spout of water shoots up a ways out from the boat, followed by the spine of a whale.
“I’ve been trying to pinpoint them for the last two days,” Doffy says, resting crossed arms on the railing and leaning forward.
Crocodile pulls the blanket tighter around himself and mimics Doffy’s posture. The whales breach the surface, their great tails disrupting the ocean as the dive back down.
They are absolutely enormous; truly a magnificent sight. They are possibly feeding, or engaging in some other group activity, because they stay in sight of the boat for much longer than Crocodile would have expected. By the time they are beginning to move off, the sun is shimmering on the horizon, turning the sea pink.
“Are you happy?” Doffy says, suddenly.
“What do you mean?”
It’s a very vague question, really. Generally? Right now? With the vacation?
“I mean, are you… happy, here. In this life, I guess. Does it… is it—does it feel worth it? To have come back?”
“I… it’s difficult to say. Why do you ask?”
“The whales. They’re some of the biggest things to ever live on this planet, you know. But I’ve seen creatures as big as islands. I’ve see men taller than houses; people who could turn into dragons or fire, or could level mountains with a sword. I think of those wonders, and this life fades like an old photograph. I wish I could onlysee whales. As they are. Understand them entirely in their context; be in awe of them. But they seem like… afterimages.”
Crocodile looks out at the ocean, where the pod is moving away from them. A whale jumps out of the water, briefly, landing with a huge splash. It is impressive. But, of course, he has seen better.
Crocodile sighs.
“We should learn to swim.”
Doffy laughs, startled, and turns to face him.
“What?”
“You are right, that there aren’t many things which can compare to what came before. We lost… so much. But there are things we can experience, that we can build, here, that we weren’t able to have before.”
Doffy smiles slightly.
“Like learning to swim.”
“Exactly,” Crocodile says with mock solemnity.
Doffy giggles, looks back out to the ocean. The whales are almost gone.
“There is much to grieve for,” Crocodile murmurs, “But there is… freedom, too.”
“Yes. I suppose so.”
They stay there, watching the sun rise over the water.
“Come,” Crocodile orders, when the whales are well and truly gone and the sun has cleared the horizon, “Back to bed.”
“To do what?” Doffy asks, eyes lighting up hungrily.
“To sleep, you insatiable wretch. I’m exhausted, and so are you.”
“Aww, is my darling Crocodile getting too old to keep up with me?” Doffy mocks.
Crocodile rolls his eyes, beginning to walk back towards the cabin. Doffy trails behind him.
“Shut up and let’s go.”
“If you want me to be quiet, I can think of a few things we haven’t tried yet that involve my mouth and your—”
“Enough,” Crocodile turns around to find Doffy at his back, grinning unrepentantly.
“Once more,” Crocodile says, sternly, holding up a finger, “And then we are going to sleep.”
“I think what I have in mind will convince you otherwise.”
“We’ll see,” he says, descending the stairs. Privately, he thinks Doffy may win this one, though. He does have a way with his mouth.
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i don’t do a TON of self-promotion around here, so here on the last day of the year, forgive me if i take a little moment to talk about the writing i did this year.
i have this show and the warm welcome i’ve received here to thank for having my most productive writing year since 2016. i published 78k+ words in 2019, and i’ve got somewhere around 35k more sitting in drafts. i’m super proud of that and so happy to have worked to find my voice again this year. this show and this fandom are so inspiring, and being here has made it much easier than i thought it would be to get back into the writing groove. thank you to all of you who have read anything i’ve written this year and for every single kudos and comment and like and reblog. it all means more than you can possibly know. <3 <3 <3
2019 writing:
it’s not ibiza (but it’s not too bad) • rated T • 7k+
It's a perfectly fine Saturday morning at the store until a pair of surprise visitors send David into a panic. Not that that's anything unusual for him.
what right’s supposed to feel like • rated T • <1k
Everything is wrong, but sometimes that's alright.
all the things you are to me • rated T • 4k+
After accidentally calling David "babe," Patrick spends weeks trying to find the perfect pet name for him.
a solid five minutes • rated G • 1k+
At the party, Patrick's parents aren't as surprised by David as either David or Patrick had thought they might be.
(not) an emergency • rated T • <1k
Patrick's tax seminar is interrupted by a string of emergency texts from David.
camera shy • rated E • 6k+
Alexis thinks that making videos of David and Patrick talking about how they met is somehow going to help the store. David thinks he'd rather throw up.
the thin line between love and hate (is a rented suit) • rated G • 1k+
David is engaged.
Alexis... is Alexis.
within reach • rated E • 5k+
David and Patrick celebrate their engagement.
loud and often (the way i do) • rated G • 2k+
“You use that word a lot.”
“What word?” Patrick asks.
“That one.” There’s only a trace of his usual emphatic tone buried under the tired, slurry sound of it. “The L one.”
ready or not • rated T • 2k+
It's the day of the wedding, and all anyone wants to know is if David is ready or not.
waited so long to say this to you • rated T • 9k+
Five times they say "I do" (and one they don't).
now i found you (don’t know what to do) • rated T • 17k+
Stevie has decided to rent out their sofa for the weekend, and David can't imagine a worse hell than three nights with a stranger sleeping right outside his door.
come rain or come shine • rated T • 2k+
They say rain on your wedding day is good luck.
Patrick thinks that’s probably only true when the rain stays outside where it belongs.
turn down the lights, turn down the bed • rated E • 15k+
Patrick has a date. David offers to help.
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hello and welcome to this month’s fic rec featuring my favourite works from what i’ve read during the past weeks. as always, please check tags before reading. if you liked the fics please reblog their posts, leave kudos and write a nice comment. happy reading!
🔒 = only for ao3 users
rec tag | more rec lists
— harry/louis —
໑ Bitter Ends Turn Sweet (series) by @allwaswell16
𓂅 Yours and Mine
(T, 1.5k, established relationship, sequel)
𓂅 In Time
(M, 2.6k, established relationship, prequel)
໑ you made my heart stop by dragmedown / @itsnothesameasitwas
(G, 6.1k, heartstopper au)
Don’t you ever feel like your life has been perfectly composed until one day it wasn’t, that everything seemed more than fine but it was not, because sometimes as simple as it might sound or look, it could change your life?
໑ On That Note by @allwaswell16
(E, 6.2k, coworkers, a/b/o au)
Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building. But although they’ve never met face to face, the friendly notes sent between him and Harry in Purchasing help him get through the day.
໑ your right now, your forever, your last call, your whatever by localopa / @waterloux
(M, 6.2k, friends to lovers, a/b/o au)
“we should kiss.” so they kiss.
໑ Faded From This Touch by @allwaswell16
(E, 7k, strangers to lovers, famous/not famous au)
Pop star Louis Tomlinson is about to make his long awaited return to music. Unfortunately, his label and manager feel his long hair isn't in tune with his pop star image. When Louis goes to get a hair cut at a posh London salon, he unexpectedly finds a very handsome reason to keep returning.
໑ One Day You'll Say These Words by @allwaswell16
(M, 11.6k, friends to lovers, aristocracy au)
Growing up together in Yorkshire has led to a lifelong friendship between Louis Tomlinson, the future Marquess of Rotherham, and Harry Styles, the heir to a viscount. When Harry suddenly inherits his uncle’s title and estate much earlier than expected, Louis must watch his friend struggle under the weight of these new responsibilities, including searching for a wife with a dowry large enough to save his estate. However, sitting idly by as Harry looks for a bride brings some unexpected feelings to the surface.
໑ Dive (series) by @allwaswell16
(E, 21k, strangers to lovers, famous/famous au)
Newly retired football star, Louis Tomlinson has left Manchester for Malibu. Along the way, he finds music, friendship, and love in the form of his pop star neighbour and the very fit movie star hiding out next door.
𓂅 I Could Fall or I Could Fly
𓂅 Hanging On the Words You Say
𓂅 Before I Dive Right Into You
𓂅 Let Me Know the Truth
𓂅 Jumping in Harder Than Ten Thousand Rocks on the Lake
໑ When We Were Young (series) by @allwaswell16
(E, 24k, former classmates reuniting, summer au)
The one where Harry helps out at a farmer’s market and gives Louis free vegetables.
𓂅 Sound Like a Song
𓂅 Look Like a Movie (prequel)
໑ 🔒 'cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense
(NR, 26.3k, friends to lovers, fake/pretend relationship a/b/o au)
When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.
໑ follow rivers (series) by @outropeace
(E, 85k, exes to lovers)
𓂅 deep sea, baby
(E, 28k, break up/getting together, au within the au, sort of prequel)
໑ Epiphany by Jennifer_Kaid / @poetsreprieve
(E, 30k, enemies to lovers, 1980s au, italy)
It was the summer of 1984 when Harry inherited his grandfather's estate and wealth. San Gimignano was a Tuscan village in Italy where he decided to move for final. That was it, that was where he would love, marry and live. His professor from college had retired in the village and lived with his family, so it was only natural that he bought a house next to his.
Never in the world had he imagined that his professor would have fathered the most beautiful boy; a nineteen year old lad with the knowledge of everything. The boy never failed to get on his nerves with his snarky comments and sun-kissed skin. It was impossible to resist his growing affection.
໑ Men of Steel, Men of Power by Stria / @nooradeservedbetter
(E, 59k, coworkers, politics, hiding identity, a/b/o au)
Louis has one goal: survive this year unscathed to complete his grand plan, for which he has sacrificed his family, his friends. His identity. he's not expecting Alpha Harry, who manages to get under his skin and inside his heart. He suddenly has a lot more to lose, and a lot less control.
໑ Such Good Luck by @casuallyhl
(E, 66k, secret established relationship, 1910s au, mpreg louis)
An Edwardian AU where Harry is a young aristocratic lord and Louis is a working class dairy farmer. Secrets are a necessary part of their relationship, but Louis has one that could topple their whole world.
໑ king of my heart by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze
(E, 83k, friends to lovers, royalty au, secret relationship)
A Red, White, and Royal Blue AU where Hollywood elite, Louis Tomlinson, finds himself falling for the closeted Prince of England.
໑ so tenderly by frenchkiss
(E, 135k, strangers to lovers, famous/not famous, a/b/o au)
A soulmate AU where two lovers find each other entirly by accident, featuring photoshoots, Gucci suits, too many takeaways, having sex and feeling sad, an alpha who feels lost, and the omega that finds him. It shouldn't be this easy, but it is.
𓂅 Call Out My Name
𓂅 Slipping Through Our Fingers (sequel)
— rare pairs —
໑ Do You Smile To Tempt a Lover by @allwaswell16
(louis/nick grimshaw, E, 18k, coworkers, british museum, coffee shop au)
Nick Grimshaw is entranced by Louis, his very beautiful, very cheeky new coworker at The National Portrait Gallery. He watches him day after day, wondering what he’s furiously typing on his laptop over lunch. With a little help from the very bored barista in the gallery cafe, Nick finds himself growing closer to Louis than he ever dreamed possible.
#28th appreciation#1dficvillage#1dsource#hlcreators#hljournal#hlficlibrary#trackinghome#ficsfor4am#*#*rec
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Second in Command (Ep - Part 4)
Summary: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors.
Rating: Mature
A/N: Just wanted to say that you guys are continuously kind people, and I appreciate every read, like, kudos, ask, comment, and reblog on this ridiculously long story! :D
Found on AO3: Beginning | Current
Tumblr Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 |
Epilogue Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
Tag List: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @alys07 @andiirivera
Indy walks ahead of him, her leash tugging him along, while Emma walks beside him, their steps matching up as their feet move over the pavement in the gardens. The dullness of the winter plants, brown and gray trees barren of leaves, are fading away and blooming into lush greens and vibrant colors. It’s still cold outside, temperatures dipping low, so he and Emma are bundled up as they take their early morning walk, something they’ve taken up together in the past few weeks.
He finds it relaxing with the simplicity of it all, and he knows that Emma feels the same. It’s a way for them both to get some exercise on days when the gym in their home goes unused as well as a way to give Indy more space to run. She’s calmed as she’s gotten a bit older, but she’s still rambunctious and would likely need acres and acres of land to roam and be completely happy with her running space. Maybe they should travel up to Norfolk and go to their country home so she has a larger backyard and he and Emma have more privacy to go out and about outside of their home without the interference of photographers and reporters aching for a picture of Emma’s stomach.
The last two months of their lives have been, quite frankly, some of the most hectic of his life. Finding out Emma is pregnant was honestly one of the best moments of his life, even if how she phrased it was a little cheeky after such an awful scare. God, when she fell on that stage, he felt his heart drop to his stomach. He’d never been more terrified of anything in his entire life. Something was wrong with his wife, his best friend, and he didn’t know what it was. She was conscious the entire time, but she just wasn’t right. And the two hours between her fall and her telling him that they were having a child, well, he felt as if they’d never end.
Now he knows he was being a bit dramatic, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty instead of the blurry, faded vision that comes when you’re in the moment. Emma and the baby are just fine, growing like a weed really. She’s got the smallest of stomachs, something she woke him up and showed him just a few days ago. She was so excited, her eyes lighting up and practically sparkling under the bathroom’s lights, and sure enough, there was the slightest curve to her stomach, more physical proof that they’re having a child, not that he really needed anymore. But it was something special, and he was just as thrilled to get to see the changes in her stomach.
And in her breasts, but that doesn’t seem to be a very fatherly thing to think. He thinks it, though, and he really appreciates the growth and how her libido has come back in full force in the past few days. That’s simply something he won’t be sharing with the child one day, but he hopes she (he’s absolutely convinced they’re having a little girl even if he can’t seem to come up with the reason why) can see how enamored he is with her mother. If not, he’s failed them both.
“Hey, babe?”
“Yeah?” he questions, reaching his hand out and twining their fingers together while they continue to walk together, nearing Liam and Abigail’s apartment.
“I think we should go on a babymoon.”
“What the bloody hell is a babymoon? I’m pretty sure that’s not a phase of the moon they taught us in primary school.”
She laughs before taking a step closer to release his hand and tuck her arm around the crook of his elbow while resting her head on his shoulder. He knows she’s being affectionate, but he also knows that she’s not willing to admit that her hands are cold because he suggested she wear gloves before they went out and she didn’t. She’s stubborn as hell, his love.
“I mean, it’s just, like, a vacation before the baby is born. The name is a ridiculous thing. I know it’s super trendy and all, but maybe we could get away for a week or a weekend before I’m not allowed to fly anymore. I think something different might be good for us. Something warm.”
“So before you’re heavily pregnant? When can you not fly? Six or seven months?”
“Yep, I was thinking next month or May. Maybe June if we don’t travel too far away.”
“Well next month is busy.” He runs through the plans he knows they have, trying to remember everything off the top of his head while attempting to get Indy to move away from the rose bushes. “We had to push back the Kidding a Goal two-year event already to May, and Liam’s fortieth birthday party is happening. I’ve also got the trip to Poland. Those are just the big things, I think. We’d also have to work around our engagements, but the middle of May would probably work.”
“We could do it for our anniversary. Just earlier.”
“True,” he agrees, continuing to run through his calendar in his head while tugging at Indy’s leash again, the dog finally deciding to move on with her explorations. “Why don’t we work on it when we get home this afternoon?”
“Sounds good to me,” she sighs, nuzzling her head into his shoulder before laughing at Indy attempting to chase a bird that’s flittering between bushes
The three of them return back to their apartment twenty minutes later, Indy’s tired legs and the cool air winning out, in order to shower and get ready to drive to Hounslow for their St. Patrick’s Day activities. Emma’s stylists work on her hair and makeup while he gets ready, dressing in his Irish Guard uniform as he did for their wedding. He catches Emma looking at him in the mirror, and he throws her a wink, smiling while bobby pins are attached to her hair to keep her hat in place over her blonde curls.
This is one of his favorite events and though it’s technically Emma’s responsibility, he always joins her for this particular engagement. It’s likely because he gets to pal around and drink a Guinness with members of the Guard afterward, but he enjoys it all around. It’s relaxed and informal, despite the military aspect of it, and those are always his favorite things to do. State dinners and other diplomatic events are not usually enjoyable, but he understands he’s there for the country and his father, not himself. He can help better Britain even if he’s really there to smile and shake hands while telling a cheeky joke that would get him in loads of trouble if his father ever caught wind of it.
(He’s still eternally thankful Brennan has no idea about the joke he once made while slightly intoxicated about the size of his father’s ego having a negative effect on other parts of his anatomy. It’s not the 1600s, he has a good relationship with his dad, and he feels like he still might get beheaded for that one.)
Thomas drives them to Hounslow, and they get out of the car to go and greet the crowds outside, shaking hands and accepting gifts. Over the years he’s grown accustomed to accepting flowers and letters, the occasional handmade jar of jam after he was once pictured as a child with raspberry jam all over his face, but lately it’s been all baby gifts all of the time. They have quite the collection of baby shoes, which he doesn’t understand because infants don’t need them, but they are damn cute. And tiny, so tiny. How can a human’s feet be so small?
He’s obviously well prepared to be a father if he can’t get past the size of infant shoes.
Sure enough, he’s handed several booties and outfits, the colors ranging as everyone tries to guess if they’re having a boy or girl and bugging him as if he’s going to share the private news with everyone. He and Emma don’t even know yet. She’s not far along enough, though he has a sneaking (see: strong) suspicion they’re having a girl. Emma thinks they’re having a boy, and he’s choosing to think that he knows better.
He very rarely does.
“Thank you,” he tells everyone, handing some of the gifts, including a miniature version of his uniform, to their aides, “this is so sweet of you all. Emma and I give you all of our love.”
He finds Emma near the end of the line, sliding his hand around her waist and pulling her closer while she fumbles with a few gifts too, stuffed bears and clothes along with a few flowers that are already causing some of her allergies to kick in.
“You ready to go inside, my love?”
“Yep,” he whispers in her ear as a camera flashes behind him, “we’ve got some Shamrock to hand out and beers to drink. Well, at least I get to do the second part.”
“Shut up,” Emma playfully whines, waving to people as they walk by, “you’re being rude reminding me of that.”
“Well, I do so enjoy pushing your buttons. Maybe I’ll let you kiss me later so you can taste the alcohol.”
“Yeah, I don’t think you should be counting yourself at getting lucky today, no matter how many four leaf clovers you find.” She kisses his jaw before pinching his cheek, and he barks out a laugh while they walk inside to get situated for the parade and the rest of their duties.
He wakes to kisses up and down his arm, soft lips and softer skin pressing into him as the haze of sleep fades away and the darkness of their bedroom comes into view. He can barely see a thing, his eyes still adjusting to the lack of light, but he can feel the heat of Emma’s body pressing into his back and sending pinpricks of pleasure throughout his body.
“W – what time is it, love?”
“A little past two.”
She kisses the back of his neck, right at his hairline, and the pressure of her breasts and her stomach pressing against him while her foot is running up and down his calves is already too much when he hasn’t been awake for more than a minute.
“Emma, love,” he grumbles when she starts inching down his back, her tongue tracing his spine, “you’ve got to give a man a moment.”
She stops then, rolling off of him and onto her back, the mattress slightly bouncing under her weight, and he groans at the lack of heat between them now. He didn’t mean for her to stop completely, but she’s obviously taken it that way. So he scoots over and kisses up her shoulder and her neck, fast flickers of his lips until he’s slanting them over hers and hovering above her.
“Hey, why’d you stop?”
“You told me to give you a moment, figured you weren’t quite ready or in the mood or something.”
She shrugs, her mused hair moving up and down as her eyes blink and her lips tick up on one side. His hand finds her face, caressing her cheek, and he smiles softly when she smiles back up at him.
“First of all,” he begins, pressing a kiss against each of her eyelids, “I am nearly always in the mood to be with my knock-out of a wife, so don’t get it in that head of yours that I’m not.” He moves to kiss behind her ear then, gently nibbling on the lobe. “Secondly, all I needed was a moment. It’s been awhile since I’ve been woken up in the middle of the night when you’ve already kept me up late.”
She laughs under her breath, the smallest, sweetest sound, before twisting her head and kissing him, slow and sweet so that he feels it in every inch of his body.
“Yeah, well, you can blame your kid for that.”
“Yes, I’ll tell her right as she’s born that she’s made mummy and daddy’s sex life slow down before she’s even born. I’m sure she’ll totally get that.”
“First of all, we still don’t know, and you are being super stubborn with the girl thing. And second of all, since we’re making points, our sex life is fine. We literally had sex three hours ago.”
“I said she’s slowing it down, not ruining it.”
“Semantics.”
“Romantic.”
“What?” She laughs, her eyes crinkling up on the sides as her smile stretches across her face. “That’s in no way romantic.”
“Oi, I think it is. Don’t you think sex is romantic?”
“I mean, obviously.” She rolls her eyes before rolling onto her side and pulling the comforter up over her. “But not in this context no. What I was doing before we got into this discussion was romantic sex.”
“That wasn’t sex.”
“It was the preface to sex, which is sometimes the best part. I was doing naughty things to you.”
“Did you just use the word naughty instead of dirty? Darling, you are officially British. Next thing you know you’re going to speaking with an accent.”
“I have an accent,” she protests, scrunching up her nose. “It’s just not the same as everyone over here, which I think makes me unique in all of the best ways.”
He rolls back over on his stomach and hooks his arm over Emma so that she can rest her chin on his forearm while he rests his on his pillow next to her head. “So do you think the babe will sound more like you or me?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re going to grow up around people who sound like you. That’s what influences the accents, not necessarily just the parents. Think about it. I have an American dad and a British mom, and I have an American accent because that’s where I grew up.”
“True,” he hums, moving his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Does that bother you at all?”
“Nah, not at all. It’s like the opposite of how it was in my house growing up. It’s kind of weird when you think about how similar it is.” She tilts her head and smirks at him. “Plus, your accent is damn sexy.”
“Really now?” he purrs, inching closer to her before crawling over her and propping himself up on his forearms and knees, making sure not to press his weight down on her stomach. “You think I’m sexy?”
“I think your accent is sexy,” she corrects, her lips ticking up on one side while her hands frame his cheeks, cool fingertips inching up into her hair and tugging him down so that he can feel the heat of her breath brushing over her lips. “Would you like to get back to where I was trying to go earlier or can I cross off doing naughty things to you?”
“Whatever the first thing was, most definitely.”
He wakes later that morning while Emma slumbers on her side of the bed, hair tangled and falling down her bare back from where the comforter shifted in her sleep. He quietly gets out of bed, attempting not to wake her or Indy who must have wandered into the room while they were sleeping, and makes his way into the bathroom, turning the water in the shower on to get ready for today.
He should have woken an hour ago, but the bed was too comfortable and his body too tired, so he rushes through his morning routine, using Emma’s blow dryer to fix his hair instead of letting it dry naturally. He slips into a suit, putting on a pair of his ever-growing collection of cufflinks, before spritzing on his cologne and grabbing his already packed suitcase out of the closet, letting the wheels trail along the hardwood until he’s back in the bedroom.
Stepping over to the bed, he scratches behind Indy’s ears, the dog opening one eye to look at him before cuddling back into bed as he sits down next to Emma.
“Love,” he whispers, pushing her hair off of her forehead until her eyes flutter open, the green hazy and sleep-ridden, “I’ve got to go.”
“Already?”
“Yeah,” he sighs, leaning down and kissing her forehead, “my flight is in two hours, and Mum likes to travel early.”
Emma yawns before sitting up, pulling the comforter over her and looking every bit like the girl he met nearly eight years ago with her crazy hair and pillow creased face and complete lack of care if she looks put together or not. “Okay,” she sighs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug, “but you two be safe. Call me when you land, when you come home, if anything interesting happens, if anything boring happens.”
“I know the long-distance drill, sweetheart.” He brushes his lips against hers then, feeling the softness that comes with Emma. “But it’s only two days. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Ugh, I know. Two days doesn’t give me nearly enough time to have my affair.”
“You’re a cheeky little minx, so I’m sure you could figure it out.”
“Damn right.” She kisses him again. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He reaches down and touches her stomach, her skin warm beneath his touch. “And you, little love.” Indy barks then, walking up the bed until she’s breathing in his face. “And you, Indy girl, even if you’re not supposed to be in this bed.”
He and his mother fly to Poland that morning for a dinner the British ambassador is hosting in honor of Liam and his birthday in a few weeks time. They were given short notice on the event, and since Liam couldn’t attend, Killian and Allison agreed to attend, knowing it would be no trouble for them. The morning flies by as all of these official visits do, in a flurry of handshakes and small talk, everyone attempting to fill his head with as much information as they can. It’s been awhile since he’s done an event with his mum, something he used to do when he was younger, but they fall into a natural rhythm. His mum is an expert at things like this, using her quick wit and kind smile to make everyone comfortable, and if there’s ever been anyone he’s tried to emulate, it would be her.
“Oh, this is gorgeous,” Allison compliments as they walk into the dining hall, her hand wrapped around his elbow. “We should decorate one of the rooms at home more like this. It’s more modern.”
“Well then we’d have to get rid of the ancient furniture that no one is allowed to sit on.”
She chuckles next to him as he pulls her chair out for her and waits for her to sit down before taking his own seat next to her. “You and your brother get cheekier the older you get, I swear. I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be the other way around.”
“Well, you can’t take away our video game privileges now, mum.”
The dinner is indeed wonderful and full of Polish dishes and traditions celebrating Liam. He takes a video to send to his brother, making sure to capture the cake he knows Liam would be stuffing into his face and flipping the camera around to show the smirk on his face that he got to eat it.
Should have shown up to his own pre-birthday event.
Later that night he and his mum are driven back to their hotel, and while they have separate suites, she joins him for a cup of tea, settling down into the living room with the television playing the local news. His phone buzzes just as a segment on their visit begins, and he’s thankful for the excuse to mute the sound.
“Hey, beautiful,” he greets Emma, his lips stretching into a smile as he props his feet up on the coffee table, his socks practically falling off next to his glass, “did you miss me today?”
“Obviously. However could I survive twelve hours without you?”
Her voice is dripping with disdain, and he chuckles to himself as he imagines the roll of her eyes and the absolute disinterest she has when he’s being cocky. “You could at least act a little sad.”
“I can cry if you want me to, if that would make you feel better and boost your already inflated ego.”
“So you’re just as cheeky as you were this morning then. What’d you do today, love?”
“Absolutely nothing,” she sighs, the happiness seeping through the phone speaker. “I got dressed in pajamas, took Indy out, and then we settled down in the darkness of the bedroom and watched Gilmore Girls just to relive all of that nostalgia.”
“Ah, yes, I’m sure Indy has a lot of nostalgia about Stars Hollow.”
“Of course she does,” Emma laughs, and he can hear the theme song playing in the background. “Ruby came over for a few hours with food from the restaurant. I may save some leftovers for you.”
“Yeah, I already know that won’t be happening.”
“Hey, I don’t eat that much! I haven’t even gained any more than regular pregnancy weight.”
“Love, you and the Gilmore Girls all have amazing metabolisms. I’ve gained more pregnancy weight than you simply because our walks aren’t quite the same as our runs.”
“I can still run, you know? Dr. Hudson said so as long as it’s just a jog and not too much.”
“I know. We’ll have to do that when I get home. Mum and I ate a lot of cake tonight.”
Emma hums, sighing into the phone. “I’m jealous. Tell Allison I said hi when you see her in the morning.”
“She’s sitting with me in the room right now actually, so if you were going to talk bad about her, now probably wouldn’t be the time.”
“Damn. That’s obviously what I was about to do.”
He and Emma chat for a few more minutes, but he knows he has to let her go so as not to be rude to his mother. She’s been fiddling with her phone and watching the muted television, so he’s sure she’s regretting coming over only to be usurped by a phone call.
“Hey, darling, I’ve got to let you go, okay?”
“Okay, is everything alright?”
“Everything is perfect. I’ve just been boring Mum making her listen to our conversation. I love you. I hope you, Indy, and little love have a good time binging the rest of Gilmore Girls and eating all of my food.”
“We will,” she promises. “I love you, too. Bye, babe.”
He hangs up the phone, smiling at the picture of he and Emma that pops up afterward, before shutting it down and placing it on the arm of his chair. He looks up at his mother then who is softly smiling at him as if she really was listening to his conversation.
“What?” he laughs, feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable.
“Nothing,” she smiles, pulling her legs up underneath her and curling into the chair, “I was just thinking about how happy you are.”
His lips twitch, and he swallows the small lump of emotion in his throat. “Well, I am happy, Mum. I’m nearly always happy.”
“I know, I know,” she waves him away, tucking her long hair behind her ears, “but you’ve just been through so much and sometimes I look at you and wonder how I got so lucky that you’re my baby. And now you’re having a baby, and I’m emotional about it all of the time.”
“Mum,” he softly laughs, getting up from his seat to cross the room and crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his, “what’s going on? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m simply a crazy old woman.”
“Well, we all know that’s not true,” he promises, guessing that it’s not the time to be making jokes. “You’re bloody brilliant and completely and totally young.”
“Thank you, Killian. It was just that I was watching how natural you are with Emma, how good you’ll both be as parents. And I guess sometimes I feel so much regret over not getting to see you both together for all of those years. You were so cheated.”
“Hey,” he soothes, running his thumb over her knuckles and ignoring the ache in his thighs from the squat, “it’s all okay. I know that a lot of it was bloody awful, but if I’m honest, I liked having those years with Emma. We got to fall in love in peace, and as wonderful as it would be for you to have gotten to know her sooner, we can’t change that. So let’s be happy, yeah?”
“I know, darling. I’m sorry, but being a mum and a grandmother, all you want is for your kids to be happy. And you feel a bit accomplished when you realize they are. You’ll understand that soon enough.”
“Well, once we get over the terror and get used to having a person’s entire life depend on us, yeah, sure, I’ll focus on the happiness.”
His mum releases his hand to stroke his forehead, pushing the hair back. “You two are going to be wonderful, and your baby is going to be the most beautiful little thing.”
“Can you say that again for me to send to Liam and Abigail? I’d like to have it on record for bragging rights for the rest of eternity.”
His mother winks at him, smiling before leaning back in her chair and asking him what movie he wants to watch. It’s been a long time since he simply spent time with his mum with no one else, so he savors it, laughing with her and talking about anything she wants until she decides to go to bed in her room next door.
The following day is full of engagements, but the two of them manage to slip away to dinner and sightseeing that evening, covering themselves in the cool early April weather and hiding away from anyone who may recognize them so they can have a normal night. Overseas visits, even with all of their setbacks and frustrations, are some of his favorite things to do if only because he can sometimes slip away and be himself in a place where fewer people know him.
Of course, he managed to slip around London for a few years as well, but he’s decided that was some kind of bloody miracle.
Early Wednesday morning they board their flight and make their way home, the four-hour plane ride seemingly stretching on for double the time until they touch down on land again and he and his mother separate into their different vehicles to make their ways back to Kensington and Buckingham, respectively.
Walking in the front door, he knows Emma won’t be home as she’s at the opening of a youth theater, so he takes the opportunity to let Indy in from their garden, indulging her in her excitement over him being home, her tail wagging so furiously she could create a windstorm. After she’s calmed, he settles down into the living room and pulls up his laptop, answering emails and organizing his schedule all while watching the shows he missed.
Multi-tasking in the best way possible, really.
It’s hours later when he hears the front door open before closing and clicking into place as heels click on their hardwood floor, the sounds getting louder the nearer she gets.
“Hi,” Emma sighs when she walks into the living room, immediately walking toward him and straddling his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs, while she presses a lingering kiss to his jaw and scrapes her fingers through his hair, “I’m so, so, so glad you’re home.”
“Hmm, me too,” he smiles before slanting his lips over hers once, twice, three times. “As much fun as I had with my mother honoring my brother, I quite prefer your company. And I was promised leftovers.”
Emma laughs against his lips as the heat of her breath washes over him and he settles into contentment. “Babe, I hate to break it to you, but those did not last.”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to figure out a different way to welcome me home.”
She smirks before burying her face in his neck, her words spoken against his skin. “A foot rub would be fantastic, thanks. Those heels are a killer.”
Without his permission, not that it has ever been that way before, the first few weeks of April pass in the blink of an eye. He wants his life to slow down, for moments to pass like waves crashing into the shore, continuous and only quickly during a storm, but that’s simply not how things work.
Of course, there are times when he’d like life to speed up the slightest bit, and right now is one of those times.
He’s been sitting on the bed thumbing through his phone for twenty-seven minutes now, half of it spent reading an article about hair loss genes being passed down simply because that’s what was at the top of the page, but he’s gotten a bit bored. There’s also the fact that they’re going to be late for Emma’s doctor’s appointment if she doesn’t hurry up. She always takes longer than him to get ready, but it’s never like this, especially when they’re just hopping over to the doctor’s office and then coming back home to get ready for Liam’s birthday party tonight.
Sighing, he rolls over on the bed until he’s standing, pulling his jeans up so that they rest on his hips, and walks into the bathroom to find it empty of Emma but with clothes strewn across the floor. He tentatively steps over them, keeping himself from picking them up and throwing them in the basket, and makes his way into the closet where Emma is stretched out on the floor with her arms over her face and her jeans on but unbuttoned and unzipped.
Bloody hell, it’s a mess in here.
“Hey,” he tentatively begins, kicking at her bare feet with the tip of his boot so that she uncovers one of her eyes, “what’s happening here?”
“My jeans don’t fit. Not a single pair of them except for the ones that have yellow paint on the ass because mom decided she wanted to have a sunny yellow living room.”
“And this is surprising to you because?”
“Because last week my jeans fit, and this week they don’t. That is some kind of fucked up thing.”
“I believe that’s called pregnancy.”
Her eyes slant and every bit of joy that was remaining on her face disappears while she stares up at him like she’s five seconds away from murdering him. “I will stab you with the first earring I find if you don’t wipe that smug smirk off your face.”
He chuckles under his breath, knowing that she’ll likely do it, before squatting down and lying on the floor next to her, emulating her position. The hardwood hurts his back, but he imagines they won’t be here for long. If they are, he’ll just have to suck it up until this all important jeans situation is resolved.
“So your jeans won’t fit, love?”
“Nope. And I don’t really think I’ve gotten that much bigger. I still just kind of look like I ate too big of a meal when I’m wearing clothes. I don’t know why this is bothering me so much. Obviously, I can just do the hairband trick until I buy new jeans, but I love wearing the damn things. They make me feel normal.”
“What? Wearing heels and a dress that perfectly matches your coat with a hat that was specifically dyed to match that coat and dress doesn’t make you feel normal? I never would have guessed.”
She snorts beside him while her hand finds his, and she wraps her fingers around his palm before pulling it up and brushing a kiss against his skin. “Surprisingly, no, that does not make me feel normal. That makes me feel like a barbie doll.”
“You’re not a barbie doll, love.”
She sighs next to him, but it’s really more of a huff. She’s frustrated, that much he knows, and a part of him is pretty sure that it’s not only because her jeans don’t fit. So he squeezes her hand, silently encouraging her to share her thoughts as he so often does with a touch or a glance.
“That’s just how I feel sometimes, you know? And I know that’s not how it is with you and me. But to the world it’s like I’m this girl who plays dress up and is a wife and an expectant mother and nothing else, which is fine if that’s what you want. And babe, I love that. I love being married to you and having a baby with you who I am so in love with it’s basically an obsession, but if I have to answer one more question about if I think you’re going to change a diaper or wake up in the middle of the night if the baby’s crying, which is literally what a parent does, while you stand next to me and answer a question about global relations, I’m going to lose my damn mind.”
“I know,” he mumbles, the weight and unfairness of her words settling into him. “I’m sorry that you’re so frustrated, and I’m sorry that some people are stuck in an old-timey world view.” He releases her hand and twists on the ground, propping his head up in his hand while looking Emma in the eye. “Why don’t you take up a patronage or two dealing with women’s rights or something similar? I know everyone was on the fence of that because they thought it was too political, but fuck that, Emma. If that’s something you want to do, you sure as hell should do it. It’s not political. It’s human, and you would be an incredible ambassador. You should do things that make you happy.”
Her eyes light up, lips twitching into a smile. “Yeah?”
“Absolutely. The fact that we don’t have any specifically for that is bullocks when we support nearly everything. You could help so many people, and I think you’d be a bloody rockstar at it.”
“I know I would.”
“That’s the spirit,” he encourages, leaning over and brushing a kiss against her lips, letting it go a little further than either of them should when they have to be somewhere soon. “But right now we’ve got to go see if I’m going to win our bet because we’ll finally see that our little love is a girl.”
“You keep thinking that. Also, there was no bet, and if there was, I never lose.”
“Oh shit, that’s cold,” Emma gasps as Dr. Hudson applies gel to her bared stomach, her bump only sticking up the slightest bit while she wears her jeans buttoned together with a hairband, the determined lass. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that.”
“Most people never do,” Dr. Hudson assures them. “So all of your tests look good, everything in normal levels. Are we having any dizzy spells?”
“No,” Emma answers, her eyes focused on the screen that’ll show the baby in a few seconds, “I haven’t. And my diet and eating times are so regularly scheduled and planned thanks to the obsessed man next to me, so I’ve been feeling really good.”
Her hand finds his so much like earlier, and he clasps it between both of his hands before leaning down to kiss her forehead. “She’s been doing well, not a lot of symptoms.”
“Well, she’s in that wonderful sweet spot of the pregnancy. It usually only gets worse from here.”
“That’s not very encouraging.”
Dr. Hudson laughs before focusing all of her attention back on the ultrasound, the baby’s heartbeat suddenly sounding throughout the room. God, the first time he heard it, the rhythmic beat so much calmer than his own, he nearly cried. Okay, so he might have cried, a few tears slipping from his eyes. Emma didn’t even cry until later when she came home with the picture and fell apart saying she couldn’t see the baby and felt like Rachel from Friends.
But he’s grown accustomed to the sound of their child’s heartbeat now, and as the picture pops up on the screen, she’s as clear as can be.
“So we’re looking really healthy, heartbeat is good, growth is good. And you’re eighteen weeks now, so while sometimes I can’t tell, I can tell you the gender today, if that’s what you want?”
He looks down at Emma to find her already looking up at him, a smile gracing her lips as she nods in confirmation. “We want to know.”
“Alright,” Dr. Hudson smiles, looking at the monitor one last time, “you two are the lucky parents to a boy.”
A boy.
He’s going to have a son.
Holy shit, Emma’s never going to let him live this down, but he doesn’t care at this point. They’re having a boy.
“I told you so,” Emma chuckles, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “I am never letting you live this one down.”
“I know.” He dips his head down to brush his lips against hers, squeezing her hand as tightly as possible as this begins to sink in even more. “Maybe I’ll get the next one right.”
“One human coming into the world out of my vagina at a time please.”
“You have such a way with words.”
“Just being honest,” she laughs, the sound as beautiful as the heartbeat still playing on the monitor. “I love you.”
“I love you too. And the little lad.”
“Yeah, and the little lad.”
He and Emma walk across the gardens to Liam and Abigail’s apartment, Emma’s heels clicking against the cobblestone. He already knows that she’ll be wearing his shoes on the short walk home, but she’d insisted she wear the heels for the portrait they’re taking to commemorate Liam’s fortieth birthday. It’s apparently a major milestone in life, deserving of an official portrait, and as much as he loves his brother, he thinks Liam’s a tad bit over the top.
But he and Liam differ in a lot of ways, Liam’s penchant for large celebrations and dinners with several courses while in evening wear one of those things. They were both raised this way, to expect and want dinners and parties like this, and maybe once upon a time had he never met Emma, that’s how he would celebrate all of his birthdays.
His wife, God bless her, is a fan of the simple things in life. She likes eating takeout on the couch with her feet tucked under her legs which are likely clothed in leggings that have a hole on the inside of her thigh. She enjoys sitting around watching television in the darkness of their bedroom for hours on end, sometimes an entire day (or two), and if she could, she’d probably spend the rest of her time in the garden throwing a ball for Indy to chase. For his birthday, all they did was a small dinner with friends and family, and it was perfect. He couldn’t have asked for anything more.
But he doesn’t mind the party Liam and Abigail are having. Everyone can enjoy what they want, and this day isn’t about him. It’s about his brother.
He and Emma step up to their front door, the towering black wood with moss looming above them, and he’s just about to knock on the door when Emma stops him with a hand on his forearm.
“What?” he laughs, turning to face her, their height difference almost gone with her heels.
“You have to be careful with how you talk about the baby. We’re keeping the sex a secret, remember?”
“Darling, I think they know we had sex. That’s not a secret.”
Her face scrunches up, and he leans down to brush a kiss against her lips before leaving a trail of kisses across her face, making her laugh under her breath.
“You’re going to make dad jokes. I already know.”
“I’ve been preparing for it with my humor for my entire life.” He grins, kissing her again simply because he can. “But I promise I’ll be on my best behavior, and I won’t mention our joyful news. As far as anyone in there knows, we know nothing.”
“That’s right Jon Snow.”
“Hey,” he chuckles, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her into his side before knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell, “he lived in the series, so that’s totally not an insult.”
The door opens before Emma can say anything else, Liam appearing on the other side of the door in his suit. “Hey guys,” he greets, a bright smile on his face as he takes a step back, “why don’t you come on in?”
“So nice of you to invite us into your home when we were supposed to be here,” he snarks, knowing it’ll rile Liam.
“Well, I was going to say I’m glad to see you, but I’m apparently only glad to see Emma. Hello, love,” he smiles before leaning into kiss Emma on the cheek and wrap her in a hug. “How are you today?”
“Good, great really. Happy birthday, old man.”
Liam barks out a laugh before releasing Emma, clapping her on the shoulder and throwing her a wink. “Has Killian been calling me older brother, emphasis on the older, all day?”
“Surprisingly not, but that’s just because he calls you an old wanker all of the time anyways.”
“No bit of that surprises me.”
Liam embraces him then, wrapping his arms around Killian’s shoulders as Killian does the same. “Happy birthday, olderbrother. What’d you buy for your midlife crisis?”
“Saving the sportscar for the fiftieth birthday. I’m not old yet, thank you very much.”
“You two are ridiculous,” Emma laughs, walking past the both of them and down the hall where he spies Alexander and Elizabeth running between the archways.
“Are we?” Liam questions, patting him in the back before following Emma. “I don’t think anyone has ever described us that way.”
“There’s a first for everything.”
The two of them find everyone in the dining room, roaming throughout the table and the bar that’s set up through the next room. Emma’s animatedly chatting with Abigail, her hands moving all over the place while Lizzie tugs at her dress until Emma picks her up and rests her on her hip. There’s several of Liam’s old military friends as well as a few of he and Abigail’s friends who he recognizes from events over the years. Their home is packed, chatter filling his ears while he goes around greeting everyone before stopping at the bar and ordering a glass of rum.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be in solidarity with your wife?”
He turns to the side and smiles down at Abigail, kissing her temple after he finishes his sip. “Hello, darling. Did Emma send you over here to tell me that?”
“No, but I remember being pregnant and my husband’s lips tasting like whiskey after a party.”
He chuckles under his breath, finding Emma talking to his parents before turning back to look at Abigail. “The only problem with that statement is that Liam drinks whiskey instead of rum. Bloody awful drink. And I’ve cut back on the coffee and tea in solidarity, thank you very much.”
“Oh well look at you Mr. Big Shot,” she jokes, squeezing his bicep. “You’re just so kind.”
“Someone is awfully sassy today, love. Is it because you’ve realized you’re married to an old man and are compensating?”
“Exactly. I’m trying to cope with his ancient age.”
“That’s what I thought. I’m going to go kiss Emma so she tastes the rum since I’m just that evil.”
Abigail snorts next to him, and he leaves her with a smile before making his way to Emma and kissing her before she gets a chance to say anything. He lets his tongue flicker out so she can taste the rum, his own little private joke, but he doesn’t think she minds from the way she hums into it. His parents probably mind from the way they cough next to him, but they can wait.
“Hi,” Emma whispers when he pulls back, “did you forget we’ve got company, tiger?”
“No. I just didn’t bloody care.”
His parents laugh behind him, and he turns to greet them then, hugging his parents and asking them how they’re doing before they get called off to chat. Liam really should have held this dinner somewhere other than his home for how many people are in here, and Emma asks him to go sit in the other room, quiet surrounding them until Alex runs in and practically jumps on Emma’s stomach with all the force of his bony limbs.
“Mummy told me that you have a baby in your belly, Emmy.”
“Well, your Mummy is a smart lady because I do have a baby in my belly.”
“Wow,” Alex gasps, his eyes lighting up as he puts his hands on Emma’s stomach before looking up at her and speaking in the cutest little voice with his broken words that are constantly getting better. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
“We don’t know yet,” Emma lies, and Killian chuckles next to her, rubbing up and down her back. “That’s going to be a surprise.”
Alex huffs and crosses his arms, obviously cross at them for not letting him know if his cousin is going to be a boy or a girl. It’s likely a good thing he wasn’t old enough to understand this all when Abigail was pregnant with Lizzie because he would have been up in arms about all of the surprises and secrets. “What’s its name?”
“We don’t know that either, buddy,” he answers to try to take some of Alex’s blame off of Emma.
“I think you should name it Fish.”
Emma snickers next to him, biting her bottom lip to try to contain it. It’s then that he gets an idea, sticking out his stomach as far as he can and making himself look bloated. “What about me, buddy? Does Uncle Killian look like he’s having a baby?”
“Uncle Killian looks like a silly goose,” Abigail coos as she steps in the room, squatting down next to Alex, “and you look like someone who needs to go to sleep.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You have to. It’s bedtime.”
Alex’s bottom lip starts quivering while his eyes begin to water, the meltdown imminent. Within seconds Abigail has him on her hip walking out of the ballroom and meeting Liam and Elizabeth by the doorway, the two of them walking away to put their kids to bed like some kind of well-oiled machine.
“You know, Abigail isn’t even my mother, and if she told me it was time to go to bed, I’d listen.”
Emma giggles beside him, leaning back into the couch and into him before resting her head on his shoulder. He kisses her hair while he rubs her back, knowing she’s likely tired when they’ll still be here for awhile, but it’s only a short walk home if she asks for it.
“You are a very smart man because you listen to all of the women in your life.”
“Damn right. Even Lizzie. She’s two, but she’s the boss.”
“Who’s the boss?” Brennan asks them, settling down on the couch across the coffee table from them. “Because the answer better be your mother or Emma. If not, you are lying, son.”
“Lizzie,” Emma answers for him, patting his stomach before her hand rests on his thigh, squeezing a little too high as if she’s trying to rouse him. “Lizzie is the boss.”
“Damn right,” Brennan laughs, echoing Killian’s words from a moment ago even if he didn’t hear them. “I’ve never seen a kid with such spunk.”
“Oi, I had that kind of spunk, dad. Still do.”
“Yeah, but you’re old now. I don’t remember these things.”
“Your firstborn is forty! I’m still barely in my thirties! How can you call me old? You’re the oldest person at this party.”
“And the most handsome,” Allison adds in, sitting down next to Brennan and brushing a kiss against his cheek. His parents were never affectionate before, and as happy as he is with everyone’s changes, his fifteen-year-old self is cringing watching them be that way. But it’s only in the best way, his family having felt like a family for two years now, and no part of him would trade things to go back to how they were.
Eventually dinner is served and everyone sits down at the large table, silverware clicking against plates and the laughter and chatter in the home only increasing the more people drink (except for he and Emma of course because he does abstain in solidarity sometimes). There’s several stories about Liam told, some he’d never heard before, and his stomach hurts from laughter. God, his brother was such a crack up, something he never really knew, and he wishes they’d gotten along all of those years.
But they didn’t. There was too much of an age discrepancy, too much of a difference in wants out of life, and most of all, too much hostility. He loves his brother, something that took him a long time to admit, but Liam’s not perfect. He can still be a bloody git and they still argue over some things, but he’s changed. And while there are still flashes of the day he came to this very home to confront his brother, to try to work things through only to be rejected and told that Liam’s only trying to do better for his children, he’s come to terms with it. They can’t change the past. They can’t take things away or add words left unsaid, but forgiveness even when the other person doesn’t deserve it is a powerful thing.
Or so he’s been learning over the past few years.
This is infinitely better than any life he could have lived away from his parents and his brother. And he’d have given it all up for Emma. There’s no doubt about it, and he still fully believes that. She’s worth it all. But this is better.
“Hey,” Emma whispers, rubbing between his shoulder blades before her hand finds the hair at the tape of his neck, causing shivers to run down his spine, “what are you thinking about? You’ve zoned out.”
He hums, closing his eyes before leaning over and kissing her temple, the vanilla of her shampoo invading him. “I was thinking about you.”
“Cheesy.”
“Absolutely. But also the truth. I just…all of these stories about Liam, they make me realize how glad I am that we went through all of that to fix it and came out better on the other side because now I have stories to tell about him like that.”
“I thought you were thinking about me.”
“Well, that came after thinking about my brother.”
“That’s kind of gross.”
“Yeah, well, I was thinking about how I’m glad we’re here, but I’d still give it all up for you. And for the little love, my love.”
“Well,” Emma smiles, tangling their fingers together under the table, “the good thing is that you don’t have to. We’re all a big, messy, wonderful package that you get for the rest of your life whether you like it or not.”
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Aro-Spec Artist Profile: Signe
Today’s awesome aro-spec creator is Signe, better known to aro-spec Tumblr as @fluffyllamacorn!
Signe is a busy aroace writer, visual and textile artist! She writes for the Young Avengers, The Shadowhunter Chronicles/Shadowhunters, Hawkeye Comics and New X-Men: Academy fandoms in addition to developing diverse original fiction. You can find her growing collection of fanworks on AO3 under the name FluffyLlamacorn and her gorgeous art at @llamacorn-productions.
She also posts and reblogs fashion and accessories at @clothing-inspiration, and some of her cosplays can be seen throughout this post!
With us Signe talks about her passion for textile arts and how they allowed her to reclaim her femininity, the importance of non-romantic relationships in creative media, the difficulty of writing kissing scenes, and the need for works and discussions that celebrate our aromanticism. Her love of making, crafting and designing just shines through this post, so please let’s give her all our love, encouragement, gratitude, kudos and follows for taking the time to explore what it is to be aromantic and creative.
Can you share with us your story in being aro-spec?
I just sort of … never cared? I’ve never wanted to get married and have children, and I never really had crushes growing up. I partly figured that was because I was surrounded by assholes who weren’t worth crushing on, but even when I graduated and moved to better schools where I actually had friends, I still didn’t care. I’ve always had a lot of confidence, so I’ve never bothered feeling insecure about not dating. I spent a while identifying as a straight person “who doesn’t care about romance” before eventually identifying with the ace and then aroace identifiers after having known them for a while, but there was never any big moments in the journey that really stand out.
Currently, I see my aromanticism as more important to my identity than my asexuality – being aro is what I do, while being ace is what my body does – but I also don’t really see them as separate. It’s hard to put into words because it requires cementing some stuff that I don’t mind leaving fluid, but while my lack of attraction is a package deal, it’s the lack of romantic attraction that defines my lifestyle the most. I know which I would choose if I had to, but I prefer not having to. That’s the only good thing about the ace discourse: It’s made me very protective of my ace identity again after having let somewhat go of it after I came to identify as aro.
Can you share with us the story behind your creativity?
I’m the type of person who has a thousand different hobbies and therefore doesn’t have time to actually do any of them. The three I care most about are writing, drawing and textile work.
I’ve always told myself a lot of stories. Walking home from school, I would develop my stories, acting out scenes in my mind and developing huge universes. When I decided to share them with the world, it was initially as comics. I drew a lot, so I had developed the characters’ visual identities along with their personalities. While I’ve switched to planning my stories as books, drawing and writing is still pretty linked in my mind and I can’t imagine creating a character that I don’t know how to draw.
I got into textile work through cosplay, but have spread out into knitting, sewing, embroidery, cross stitch, weaving, crocheting, bobbin lace… Pretty much everything I can get my hands on, which is why I give it such a broad name. (This is part of my too many hobbies deal!) I love everything about textiles, from the look and feel of it, to how many different things can be created out of one simple material. Looking at clothes and knowing not just how it’s been sewn, but also how the fabric was made, is so cool. Creating things from scratch can make me feel like something akin to a god, recreating this corner of the universe as I see fit. A big part of my love for textile work is also reclaiming my femininity in a way that’s so different from the girly girl image I was taught to look down on as a girl. This is a way to enjoy being feminine that doesn’t force me to embrace things I don’t enjoy.
One thing I’ve realized recently is that I love the freedom to design my own work. My cosplays have moved further and further away from canon, from human versions to characters without a firm design or completely redesigning a canon design. On the other hand, I rarely feel the need to sew completely original things, and without the built in deadline of a con, I’m not very likely to get it done. I tend to rarely do the things I can just do whenever, but I’m getting better at that.
Are there any particular ways your aro-spec experience is expressed in your art?
It’s easy to spot in my stories. I have a lot of a-spec characters. The two main characters who were specifically designed to get most of my heart – Shizuka, the shy girl who didn’t know how to make friends, and Diana, the confident girl who’s never cared what anyone thinks of her – both ended up being a-spec even though I created them long before I started identifying as aroace. Shizuka is demi and I don’t know whether it’s sexually and/or romantically or if it even matters. Diana ended up being aroace because I was thinking about her future and my mind nope’d out of the possibility of her ever dating. I also made a conscious choice not to include much romance until I got interested in queer love stories and that sorta fell by the way side. Even then, I try to keep the love stories from being the only defining feature of the stories and the characters involved in them and never to devalue other types of relationship. You will never hear the term “just friends” in my work unless I’m trying to make a point about the person who uses it.
(This is not to pass a value judgement on anyone who uses that expression, but to help normalize language that doesn’t devalue platonic relationships.)
What challenges do you face as an aro-spec artist?
The recent anti-a-spec discourse has made me worried about posting about aromantic things too publicly, as aphobic comments and opinions seem way to commonly accepted these days.
Also, writing kissing scenes. What the hell. “And then their mouths squished together for a little while, which apparently made fireworks go off in their brains.” Like. What? Why does society think this is the epitome of every relationship?
How do you connect to the aro-spec and a-spec communities as an aro-spec person?
Building communities about a lack of something is always hard. Once you’ve written the first story about being aro, it can be hard to write the next one, unless you consciously try to write about a different way of being aro-spec. It’s also a hard orientation to include quickly as being single isn’t as clear an indicator as having a romantic partner of the same gender. While I follow a bunch of aro-blogs and I have a bunch of a-spec friends, I wouldn’t say I’m strongly integrated in the a-spec communities on Tumblr.
Part of it is that most content I see is validations that every sort of aro is alright. I see a lot of content aimed at people who feel bad. That’s important, definitely, but I don’t need it. I’ve always known I’m amazing, both independently of and intersecting with my aromantic identity. I’m interested in work that celebrates being aro, work that doesn’t say I’ll be happy “even though” I’m aro, but “while” I’m aro, maybe even “because” I’m aro and don’t need to waste my life on amatonormativity. At the very least, work that spends more than a sentence on reassuring me. I see a lot of content that implies the basic state of an aro-spec person is sad, and I object to that idea.
I have also recently seen a whole lot of posts about QPRs and that’s really cool! I’m happy to see they’re becoming more and more accepted, at least in some circles. I’m less happy to see them become so prominent and so expected that they start feeling like a new shape of amatonormativity. It’s not that bad right now, but I definitely got allo aces saying “at least we can still feel love” vibes from some QPR posts earlier this year. Because here’s the thing: I’m aroace. I won the lottery. I don’t need to define myself by relationships to other people.* I refuse to take another label that sounds like I don’t want friends because of people pushing QPRs to be the new norm. Again, I’m super happy QPRs seem to have become more accepted, just please don’t present them as something every aro-spec person is interested in unless we specifically opt out.
There’s also the question of what kind of aro stories should be told. I mean, as many as possible, obviously, but that’s going to take a while. But the whole deal with being aro-spec is to have less interest in romance, so too many stories that focus on the lack of it become … counterproductive? I think the Jughead comics are pretty perfect in that regard. The main character is aroace and there are several stories that’s hella important to, but mainly it’s just about him going on adventures with his friends.
(P.S. I hate Riverdale. I’ve seen two different Jughead cosplays these last two weekends, but I didn’t dare fangirl, because what if they were based on the wrong version?)
Honestly, my main way of interacting with the a-spec community is befriending people at random and later finding out they’re a-spec. It’s … almost a superpower? It’s pretty great.
* No one needs to define themselves by relationships to other people, but I imagine it’s much easier when you don’t feel the desire to.
How do you connect to your creative community as an aro-spec person?
I don’t feel very connected to creative communities, but that’s more because I’m not very good at reaching out and promoting myself unless I know I have exactly what’s being asked for. I mainly stick to one or two people I can bounce ideas off of for my different projects before I post it and hope it finds an audience. It might also be because I’m juggling so many things and don’t spend enough time on the social connections needed to connect with a community.
How can the aro-spec community best help you as a creative?
Feedback, feedback, feedback! I love it! I live on it! Telling me you like X or Y part of my work can keep me floating for days and makes me so much more motivated to keep arting! So please, check out my art and leave a comment and/or share it with your friends/followers, if you like it.
(Also, if anyone has good tips on how to reach a larger audience, let me know.)
Can you share with us something about your current project?
I just finished my newest cosplay, which is Lup from The Adventure Zone in her lich form! I had a lot of fun designing her – the podcast doesn’t have very specific descriptions and the creators encourage fans to come up with their own designs – and got a lot of positive reactions at the con last weekend. I went for a very non-human design, including hiding my face, and added a bunch of fire details to reflect her evocation magic. I would have added more, but then my sewing machine broke in the last second, and I had to finish everything by hand, so I just aimed for the basic version. I’ll be updating her for the next con and will have much more fire with me then. I have yet to finish editing the pictures, but they should be up soon.
Have you any forthcoming works we should look forward to?
My next project, one I’ve alluded to a couple of times in this profile already, in fact combines all three of my passions. I was considering cosplaying Pixie, one of the underrated students from X-Men, relegated to the background since their series ended, but I kept bumping up against the problem that her uniform was just too … generic to be fun. Besides, what’s the point of cosplaying the pink girl, and then not getting to work with pink fabric?
So I just redesigned her and gave her an individual outfit. And then I decided to redesign all of her teammates. I wanted them all to go together, but still keep an individual feeling, and I achieved that by giving them a rainbow theme when they’re together. Obviously, the next stop was figuring out a story for that to take place in, of which I’ve posted the first chapter. The idea is that they get out in their bright colors and visibly help everyday people with everyday problems to stop people from hating and fearing mutants and maybe actually making a positive change, unlike all of the superhero battles that don’t get anyone anywhere.
The project has three parts: Individual drawings for every member where I develop their outfits further, chapters of fic describing their adventures and a cosplay that I aim to finish for Genki in August, the next big con in Denmark.
#aro spec artist profiles#signe#fluffyllamacorn#llamacorn productions#text#undescribed#artwork and visual#fanfiction#original fiction and prose#cosplay#plush and fabric art#fanwork#fanart#long post#very long post#aroace#support our aro spec creatives if you can#link#ao3#amatonormativity#amatonormativity in creativity#arospec community
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Wanna Be Yours, 6/7 (Olicity, College AU, Explicit)
Summary: College AU. Felicity’s car breaks down in a major rainstorm, sending her walking to the closest house she can find. It just so happens to belong to Oliver Queen, and he’s having a ‘Skivvies Only’ party. (See AO3 for Author’s Notes.)
A/N: I don't have words for how much the response to this fic means to me! Every single comment and kudos and reblog and retweet, it's amazing. Thank you! And now the chapter we've all been waiting for... This wouldn't be anything without my amazing beta Margaret. She does so much for me and I'm so grateful! Enjoy!
Two more songs that were sent to me for this fic, and I have to share them! True Colors by The Weeknd via @coal000 and Slow Hands by Niall Horan via @ellefraser17. Ugh, such feels i cannot.
(read on AO3)
(read from the beginning)
Wanna Be Yours, Part 6
He didn’t remember falling asleep.
One second he was watching an old movie about jet fighters and the next someone was carding their fingers through his hair.
Felicity.
She was back.
Finally.
Oliver turned into the touch, smiling when his nose brushed the inside of her wrist.
Not opening his eyes, he nuzzled his face into her arm before reaching for her. His hand found her legs first where she was curled up next to him. He sighed, his palm skating over her knee and thigh, up over her hip to her waist. His smile grew as he turned his entire body towards her, wrapping her up, folding into her. She said something that sounded a lot like, “I didn’t mean to wake you,” but he just hummed, angling himself so he could bury his face in her chest.
When his mouth passed over her breast, she let out a breathy giggle, smoothing his hair down as she wrapped herself around him in turn.
It was the best fucking way he could ever be woken up, he decided - his Felicity, warm and perfect, fitting so wonderfully against him, her giggles echoing her quickening under his ear.
“Mmm.” Oliver cuddled into her. “You feel so good.”
He could hear the smile on her lips as she replied, “So do you.”
Oliver nose brushed the opening of her shirt, her skin so soft against him. He didn’t stop there, moving until he found her breast again. Her nipple was harder this time and when his lips hit it, she gave him a stilted gasp. His body tightened, his jeans becoming constricting as he did it again. Her nails dug into his scalp, silently urging him on.
He waited for the inevitable interruption, bracing himself to pull away from her because they weren’t alone… except they were alone. Everyone had left. They had the entire house to themselves.
Urgent need cut through him.
“What time is it?” he whispered, the words a raspy mess.
“It’s after midnight,” Felicity replied, kissing the top of his head.
The tiny gesture made him melt, but not enough to distract from what she said. “Midnight?” He held her a little tighter, hating that she’d been out there without him. He snuggled into the warmth of her shirt - no way in hell he was taking it back; this shirt was hers - wanting to get closer to her at just the thought of her being out there for two hours. “Why did it take so long? Did you get your car okay?”
“I did,” Felicity replied. “I think next time I’m going to leave breadcrumbs for myself because we couldn’t find it. That’s what took so long. Apparently I’d gotten turned around. I thought I was walking back towards the way I came, but I actually went down a totally different road and didn’t even know it. So my car was tucked in this weird tree hole…” She cuddled closer to him, laying her cheek against the crown of his head. When her glasses got in the way, she huffed, taking them off and setting them on the side table next to the couch before returning to her spot. “We even drove by it once before we saw it. And then there was getting it jumped, which was fine, but Ronnie thinks I should get a new battery, and I said I would. And then he lectured me about just going home and having you go to my apartment and then we talked about how far that was and what time it was and he said my car might not start without a jump again and long story short, I hope you have jumper cables because I might need them in the morning.”
Considering how late it was and how little sleep he’d gotten this weekend, it was a damn miracle he’d followed all of that. Although he’d always been able to. He never missed anything when it came to Felicity Smoak. And he definitely didn’t miss that just one tiny change last night and she never would have appeared at the party. She’d had a hellish night getting caught in the rain like that, but it’d ended with her on his doorstep and for that he would always be grateful.
And she’d specifically chosen to come back here, despite being told what could happen otherwise.
His heart brimmed over with happiness.
“I have some,” Oliver said. He was sure there were some in the shed, at least, and he’d damn well go find a store to buy some if he had to. He rooted around until he found her hardening nipple again. Felicity sighed, pressing her face against the crown of his head again as he wrapped his lips around it. There were too many damn layers, though, and his mouth watered at the thought of pulling it into his mouth again, of doing so much more than that, of laying her back, undressing her, tasting her…
His dick jumped to life, straining against hard denim as he bit down on her breast, making her whine his name. The hair on the back of his neck rose and he bit down harder, eliciting a small cry.
It was perfect and he wanted more.
Oliver gasped her name before abruptly sitting up, pulling her with him.
She let out a startled sound, her arms tightening around him as he sat back, hauling her into his lap, his hands coming up to her face, to guide her lips to his. She was already halfway there, though, her own needy whisper on her lips before her mouth covered his. Oliver immediately opened for her. They were suddenly back to that morning, all the need and desire and emotions surging to the surface. Except now it was even more vivid, because they’d had the day together. It’d been a another brand of intimacy - quick kisses, holding hands, laughing with friends, watching the sun go down - and now it was a fuel to the fire. They kissed with the same urgency, but with a new tenderness that hadn’t been there before. Today spoke to what they were capable of, what it would be like going forward, how things might be when they got to know each other all over again, when they shared more than just a day, more than their months of anger.
He couldn’t wait.
Felicity crowded him back against the couch cushions, grinding her hips down. His dick swelled even more than it already had and wrapped his arms around her, one hand gripping her shoulder, pulling her down even harder as the other drifted down her back, her spine, to her ass. God, he loved her ass. Where this morning he’d been so much more tentative, afraid to do something that might scare her away, now he gave in. He gripped her hard, pulling at her ass just as much as he pushed her even closer to him. She gave him delicate little cries, her entire body clenching in response as she kissed him harder.
It was heaven, absolute heaven. He slid his fingers down, between her cheeks, finding her sex. Even through the thin pants, he could tell she was wet - for him - and the heat, god, it scorched him. He curled around her as much as humanly possible as he pushed his hand further between her legs. He stiffened his fingers, rubbing them against her. Felicity let out a guttural moan, one he swallowed up, and shoved her hands into the collar of his shirt. Her fingers spasmed, her nails digging into his flesh, like the feeling of his skin against hers was too much, and it made every inch of him soar. Because he knew exactly how she felt.
For a long moment, they sat there, Felicity in his lap, riding both his bulge and his fingers through her pants, her hard nipples pushed against his chest, her hands migrating from underneath his shirt to his hair where she gripped the strands tightly as they drank from each other.
This morning they’d had to wait, but now they didn’t, and the reality of that sent heat rushing through his veins.
He growled, pulling her closer, delighting in the feel of her breasts pushing into him.
“Oh, damn it,” Felicity moaned, pulling back. Instinct had him moving after her, his lips finding hers again, and she gave in… but then she pulled back, just enough to speak. “I have an idea,” she whispered against his lips. The sensation was too much and Oliver captured her bottom lip between his, sucking on it, his teeth grazing it. She whimpered for him, her hips jerking against his, making his eyes roll back into his head… but she wasn’t done. “I’m clean,” she said. That caught his attention and he pulled back. “I don’t, like, sleep around or anything, but I do… sleep if the occasion calls for it - and by the occasion I mean I kinda just want to, which I damn well can because why should men only get that pleasure, and I’m babbling. Okay, um… three, two…. one. I’m…” She huffed out a breath, and Oliver furrowed his brow, trying to follow her logic through the haze of desire. “I get tested, so I’m clean. Are you? Clean, I mean, like… safe? It’s ironic I’m asking that right now because I didn’t care this morning, at all, but I’m about to suggest something that is the opposite of safe in so many ways and maybe an abundance of safety could counteract any non-safe thing… But it is safe, but it’s not, because stuff can still happen, but… god, Oliver, I need you and I am shockingly close to saying I just don’t care what happens and that’s a little scary and I need to know…”
“Felicity.”
She paused, inhaling quickly, like she hadn’t been breathing. Probably because she hadn’t.
Oliver sat back to look at her, cupping her face, smoothing his fingers down her jaw…
His chest constricted at the sight she made. Her hair was mussed, her lips red and swollen, beard burn decorating the tender skin around her mouth. Her eyes were glazed with need, her face flushed with pleasure. Fuck, she was stunning, and every inch of him yearned towards her, almost forgetting what she’d been saying. Her eyes danced over his face and he wondered if she saw his thoughts because her pupils blew wide, and she shifted, her hips rotating against his in the tiniest movement. Oliver’s lids fluttered shut of their own volition, but he forced them open again, unwilling to look away from her.
“Wh-what… um…” He cleared his throat, his hands dropping to her hips to stop her movements. “What are you asking me?”
“I was going to stop,” she said.
He frowned. “What?”
“When I was out,” she clarified breathlessly. “Earlier, I mean. For condoms. Because now we don’t have any and I’m about three seconds from asking how you feel about the pull-out method.” His eyes widened - oh, her babble suddenly made a lot more sense and holy shit, she’d been suggesting they go bareback. “But that’s dumb, right? That’s just… insane. I should go back out, because we need condoms. Now, right now.” His brain was spinning, for about a thousand different reasons, and it spun out of control when she arched her back, pressing her heat against him with even more alacrity as she pressed her lips to his again, moaning, “God, I need you, Oliver. I can’t believe how much I need you inside me-”
“I found some,” Oliver interrupted. “Upstairs. We have condoms.”
“We do?” Felicity repeated. “Then why are we just sitting here?”
That’s an excellent fucking question.
But when Felicity started to climb off of him, he knew the answer.
Oliver wound his arms around her, trapping her against his chest. He wanted to laugh at how much more control he felt in this instance, because the need to tell her how he felt overpowered his need for this woman. No, the feelings were equal, just on separate wavelengths, but no less powerful. He wanted to be inside her, he wanted to fucking bury himself as deep as he could and never fucking leave, but he also needed her to know that this was good, too, in its own way, that as long as he had her, in any way, shape or form, he was good.
“Because…” he whispered against her lips, “because the thought of not touching you when you’re right here drives me fucking insane.” Her breath hitched, her nails digging into him. “Because I never thought I’d get the chance to see you again, much less talk to you, much less…” Oliver’s arms turned to steel around her, pulling her down against him with so much force that she cried out. “Much less touch you, and kiss you… feel you like this…”
He ran his hands down her sides and up her back. She was so responsive, arching into his touch as much as shivering from it.
“God, Oliver,” Felicity breathed. “This is crazy.”
“What?”
“I want to drag you upstairs, but I also really love hearing you say stuff like that.” She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s… ridiculous. I don’t know what I’m feeling or what I should be feeling or what this is-”
“But it’s good?” he asked, pulling back to see her better. He brushed hair off her face. “It’s a good feeling?”
“Yes,” she sighed, her voice cracking. “I want both… I want you and I want you talking to me like that, because god, it’s…” Her lips brushed his. “I want all of it.”
And then she was kissing him again.
With a groan Oliver shoved his hands into her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss.
They were too close to the precipice this time. The second her lips touched his, he lost any and all self-control he had and damn near devoured her. His feelings for her filled him to the brim, flooding his senses so he felt them in very brush of her skin against his, every gasp they shared, every breath, rivaled only by the actual sensation of having her in his arms. Her kisses were electric, addicting, and he wanted more, more, more…
Oliver sat up more fully, scooting to the edge of the couch. His hands dropped to her legs, making sure they were wound tight around his waist, before he grabbed her ass, the other wrapping around her back, and stood up.
Felicity clung to him.
Oliver had spent a lot of summers in this house. He knew exactly where everything was, down to the cracks in the hardwood floor. But in this moment, he didn’t know a damn thing. Every inch of his focus was on the woman cradled in his arms, on kissing her, chasing her eager moans and finding new ways to make her shiver against him. So he didn’t see the corner of the couch that rammed into his thigh or the lamp they brushed by, nearly sending it crashing to the ground. He didn’t see the wall they narrowly missed or the banister of the stairs that he almost walked into.
He definitely felt all of it, though.
Growling under his breath, Oliver gripped her tight, making sure she was plastered to his body before his other arm swung out, hitting the wall with a thud. His hand brushed the hanging frames there as he slowly started climbing the steps, moaning his displeasure whenever Felicity’s kisses slowed down.
He didn’t care how long it too him to get up these steps, he was going to do it without losing a single second with her.
They were a couple feet up the stairs when his foot hit the next step, almost making him trip. It was only because Oliver was going so damn slow that he didn’t fall and crash right onto the precious bundle in his arms.
Oliver froze with a grumbled, “Fuck,” his arm flying back to protect Felicity before he really did fall. “Stupid fucking…”
He hiked her closer, ready to start all over again when he felt it.
She was giggling.
Felicity’s body shook with laughter, her curves rubbing against him with as the full-bodied giggles radiated through her chest and into his. It was adorable and gorgeous and contagious and before Oliver knew what he was doing he was laughing with her.
Oliver hummed, leaning against the banister of the stairs. “I guess the first night we make love shouldn’t involve me breaking my leg,” he whispered.
The words were out before he could stop them - ‘make love’ - and he knew he’d said too much. Shit. It was too fast. While today had only confirmed what he had always known about his feelings for Felicity Megan Smoak, he was positive that she wasn’t even close to being there. She’d thought he was joking last night when he finally fessed up about his feelings to her, assumed it would be a one time thing, and even after sleeping in the same bed together, she hadn’t believed him, not until she saw physical proof in the form of that gum wrapper he’d kept stashed in his wallet for so long.
It was too fast and he got his confirmation an instant later when Felicity froze. She didn’t stiffen, so much as she just… stopped.
Shit.
“Make love?” she repeated.
He wanted her to laugh, to joke, to think he was being hokey or silly, to at the very least tease him, but he couldn’t, because he wasn’t joking. He meant exactly that.
“It’s just… I’m not saying…”
The words stumbled out of Oliver’s mouth and he silently cursed, grimacing. He was a giant fumbling goddamn idiot and he couldn’t think with her so close. The last thing he wanted was to make her think he was pushing, in any capacity. Oliver slid his hands up to her waist and urged her off him. She let him go with ease and he instantly missed her warmth, feeling the ghostly imprint of her body wound around his. He wondered if the way her brow furrowed was his imagination because it was gone a second later as she stared at him. And it was at him, because she was two steps up from him and they were eye-to-eye.
Oliver swallowed, nerves nesting in his stomach. “Felicity, I don’t… it’s a term, I wasn’t…”
Hadn’t they just promised that they’d be honest with each other? Because it wasn’t just a term. It was more, so much more. But he didn’t want to freak her out. Thoughts raced through his head and he tried to capture at least one to help him find the right thing to say.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to…”
“Oliver.” Felicity’s fingers covered his lips. The words stalled on his tongue and he stopped breathing. He wondered how he could feel her fingers so readily when his lips were slowly numbing as he stared at her. He couldn’t read the look on her face and it was making his skin feel too tight when she finally smiled. “It’s okay.”
“But I want you to know-”
She put more pressure on his lips to still them. “I do. I do know. Now… stop thinking so much.”
Oliver blinked, trying to understand what she was saying, but all he could do was smile at the callback to the night before. As his lips moved under her fingers, her eyes dropped to his mouth, gentle wonder shifting to something darker. His heart climbed into his throat as she slid her hand up to cup his cheek, his whiskers scraping against her palm…
And then she was kissing him again
It was soft, so very soft, and he sighed, leaning into her. It didn’t escape his attention that she didn’t say anything about his choice of words, or his fumble, that she’d gone back to telling him to stop thinking so hard about everything. He would have laughed at the irony of who was the one thinking too hard between the two of them considering their history before this weekend, but then Felicity’s tongue swept over his lips and all that mattered was her.
As they kissed she held him with such care, such trust, such… He didn’t let himself think the word, he couldn’t. But something was different. He didn’t know what or how he knew, but there was something different in the way she kissed him, in the way she held him, touched him. It was so tender, making his entire being ache, almost like…
Like maybe her feelings were deeper than he let himself hope.
“It’s okay.”
Did she…?
Hope slammed into him. His thoughts and feelings clashed together, sending a hot flush up his neck. He had to be imagining it, right? Because that would be… god, his entire life would be made. He had to check, he had to see. He had to know.
Oliver pushed his hands up to hold her face, whispering, “Felicity,” as he pulled back.
She heard his barely audible plea and she pulled back, looking up at him.
He brushed his fingers over her cheeks, pressing some of her hair off her face. His fingertips skated down along her jaw before moving back up, his thumb grazing the corner of her mouth… and he stared into her eyes.
She didn’t hold back a single thing.
It was real.
Oliver grinned, saying her name just as she gave him the most beatific smile, her eyes lighting up, her face glowing.
It was real.
They were being honest, in their own way, letting each other in, and it was more than he could have dreamed.
His grin damn near split his face as he kissed her again. It was her turn to melt against him, her knees buckling slightly. Oliver wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close, melding his body to hers. She made a gentle breathless sound that struck him right in his heart. It was a heady combination with her lush curves pressing into him, the heat of her skin scorching through their clothes.
She arched her back, her abdomen pressing against his aching arousal.
Oliver slipped his hands up under her shirt. They both hissed, just before he pushed his fingers under the band of her pants. Felicity shuddered, goosebumps raising under his touch, giving him that moan again, that delicious perfect moan. He pushed his hands in further with a ragged, “God, Felicity,” as he drowned in her.
“Yes,” she whispered, pulling his lips back to hers. “Yes.”
Oliver slipped one hand back around to her ass - her skin was so hot it burned, but she gasped like the opposite was true - as the other slid to the front of her panties. He pushed his hand between them, groaning at the added pressure of his fingers against his hardness, but it quickly got swept away as he slid his fingers over the front of her panties. They were already damp, nearly soaked through when he ventured lower, closer to her entrance.
“Ooh,” Felicity whined, nodding rapidly where she clung to him. She arched her hips into his touch, her head falling back. Oliver held her up as he pressed his fingers against her sex. “Oliver… Oliver.”
He kissed a wet line up her throat, nipping at her, working his way up her jaw, around her chin. She moaned, rocking against his fingers, getting just enough friction to make her whine for him. Her fingers skated up the sides of his neck, her nails scraping over his ears before she shoved her hands into his hair, urging him closer.
Oliver pushed his fingers underneath her panties, touching her swollen, needy sex.
They both moaned. She was so wet, soaking his fingers as brushed over her clit in a way that had her bucking against him. And then he went lower, brushing over her puffy nether lips. She was so hot and wet and tender and he could feel his control spiraling away from him. Oliver moaned again, the sound getting lost in her drugged whispers. He gripped her ass tight, digging into the ample flesh, earning a wild, “Oh god, yes… yes.”
He swirled his fingers at her entrance before slipping a finger inside her. Her inner walls immediately clamped down around him, giving him a guttural moan, her body tightening, her hands fisting in his hair hard enough to make him see stars. Oh god, he needed more, he needed to feel more of her. Oliver pushed her back against the wall, frames rattling under her back, but they didn’t notice, too lost in each other. He added a second finger, cupping her sex like he had this morning, rubbing against her as he rubbed himself against the back of his hand. Pleasure swamped him, and he rubbed harder against her.
It was so, so much… but it also wasn’t enough.
“Felicity…”
“Yes,” she replied, searching for his lips.
“I need you,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers. His voice became desperate, even more than he already was. “I need to be inside you, Felicity.”
She cupped his face, pulling him back to look him in the eye. “Take me upstairs, Oliver.”
They were the most erotic words Oliver had ever heard.
Yanking his hand out of her pants, Oliver grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him. He moved fast, but she kept up the entire way, giggling when they dodged furniture and a bag of bottles he’d forgotten to take downstairs. His room was open, waiting for them with a welcoming glow of light, and the second they crossed the threshold he pulled her into his arms and kicked the door shut.
Felicity grabbed his shirt, pulling his lips down to hers just as he wrapped her up in his arms, damn near yanking her off her feet.
The hesitancy they’d experienced last night when the door closed behind them was nowhere to be found as she simultaneously pulled him back to the bed as much as he pushed her back.
When her legs touched the mattress, Oliver grasped her waist, lifting her up onto it. Felicity grabbed at his shirt, scrambling up underneath it, pushing it up. He pulled away long enough to rip it off over his head before he started unbuttoning her shirt as she grabbed his hips, pulling him between her legs. She touched as much of him as she could, reaching behind him to grab his ass before coming around to his front, her nails scraping the denim deliciously. His dick twitched, damn near reaching for her. Felicity cupped the heavy bulge waiting for her, her hand wrapping around him so perfectly that he forgot how to breathe.
“Oh… shit,” Oliver hissed.
Sensation rocketed through him, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, his hands making tight fists in her shirt. He said something unintelligible, something that made her laugh, and something that made her squeeze him, rubbing her palm against him.
His hips jerked forward, seeking more friction, and she gave it to him.
It was fantastic, sensational, fucking amazing, and he quickly lost himself in her touch, every single nerve focused on her.
But then she moved, making him groan his displeasure, before he realized what she was doing.
“Off,” Felicity whispered, starting to unbutton his jeans.
Oliver nodded, gasping, “Off,” mostly because it was all he was capable of as he got back to her shirt with unsteady fingers.
Their moves were frantic, fueled by need and lust and so much more. His body hardened with each inch of flesh he revealed as he undid her shirt, and he felt her breaths growing shorter and more erratic as she undid his pants.
He finally reached where she’d knotted the shirt up at her midriff, and as his fingers started working it loose, he leaned over her, nudging her head back so he could capture her lips again. The kiss was messy, uncoordinated, both of them distracted, but that didn’t stop them from trying to do both, from touching each other as much as possible, from taking and giving everything they had.
Oliver finally got her knot undone and his moves started becoming even more frantic, so eager to touch, to feel. He moved to push the shirt off her shoulders, his fingers already itching to get under the thin straps of her bra, to push it off her shoulders, to tug the cups down so he could taste her nipples again… but then she finally got his pants undone and she yanked them open, her fingers digging into the band of his jeans and boxers, her fingers hot against his bare hips.
Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, don’t stop…
He was five seconds away from pushing her back so he could rip her pants off and buy himself as deeply as he could inside her…
But he didn’t want that. No, he really did want, he wanted that a fucking lot, but not this time, not right now.
“Wait,” Oliver gasped, pulling back, his hands covering hers.
She froze, looking up at him. God, she was fucking stunning. Oliver leaned back in, needing to feel her swollen lips against his with an alarming fervor.
The kiss quickly spiraled out of control again and they were right back where they had been before - her hands pulling his pants down, his shoving her shirt off - before Oliver yanked himself away. Again.
It was too fast. He wanted to savor this, needed to revel in it, and as much as he wanted her - god, he needed her, so bad it hurt - he also wanted to make this last.
He also had zero doubts where her hands were headed once she got his pants down and he knew he wouldn't make it if he felt her fingers wrapped around his length. The imagery was almost too much and he held his breath, his cock twitching painfully against the painful bindings of his jeans. The zipper dug into him where Felicity had pulled it open and the pain did nothing to alleviate the ache.
When all he did was stand there, just staring at her, Felicity bit her lip, a flash of uncertainty touching her face. Fuck, he needed to stop thinking so damn much, but he was kind of glad he was, because he wanted to take his time and that was proving impossible when they gave into the intense craving they had for each other.
“Is this okay?” she asked.
God yes, it’s so okay, it’s more than okay.
“Felicity,” he whispered, cupping her face, bringing her lips to his. He kissed her softly, gently, sighing against her lips when she instantly responded. “Yes,” he answered. “It's…”
Perfect.
He didn't realize he'd said that out loud until she smiled, a tender shy tug of her lips right against his.
“A little early to be calling it perfect, isn't it?” she teased.
Oliver shook his head. “No,” he said, “because anything with you is perfect.” She fell silent, and the same hesitation from earlier hit him, but this time he forged on. He slipped his fingers over her cheeks, sliding them up over her temples and the soft hair there before he pushed wayward strands off her forehead. “You are always exactly where I want to be. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing or where we are, as long as I’m with you, it’s exactly what I want. Even when we were fighting and yelling at each other about that damn project, I didn't want to be anywhere else.”
Felicity’s skin warmed under his touch. “So that's why I could never get rid of you, huh?”
“Even when I was positive that you hated me,” Oliver said, “I always had a better day when I got to see you. It was even better when we talked, even if we were just fighting. I just… I would rather spend the entire day with you glaring daggers and cursing at me under your breath than be away from you.” His lips quirked. “I’d rather you yell at me instead of ignore me…” Felicity huffed out a chuckle, remembering the many times she'd done just that. “But even then, I’d take it just to be closer to you.”
“God,” she breathed, “you're really good at that.”
Oliver furrowed his brow, his eyes drinking her in. “What?”
“Saying the exact thing that will make my heart feel like it's going to…” Felicity waved her hands. “You know that feeling when it's really full, and you can’t breathe, but it’s in a really good way, like… like it’s about to explode and all you can do is feel?”
“I know exactly how that feels.”
She stared at him, the lamplight catching the way her face softened with emotion. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, before his lips covered hers, needing to show her as much as tell her.
Felicity moaned, a tiny sound from deep in her chest, but instead of kissing him back, taking control as she had been doing, she gave him the reins, letting herself fall into his hands with perfect trust. He cradled her closer, his hands slipping into her hair, keeping the kiss soft, wanting to cherish this amazing moment. There was nothing like when they were on the same wavelength, when they both knew with one hundred percent certainty that this was real and it was happening. It made everything more vivid, touching him in the very depths of his heart.
Oliver held her closer, worshipping her with his kisses, his touch, his soft sighs. She returned every single one, her hands sliding around his waist, hugging him tight.
He wanted to make love to her.
Kissing her in a series of lingering touches, he kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, the tip of her nose, her brow. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, her lips parting when his hands slipped from her hair and down her neck, over her shoulders, his fingers pushing underneath her shirt.
He pulled back to watch his hands as he slipped it off her slowly. He watched the play of her muscles as she pulled her arms free, leaving the shirt to pool around her hips.
Oliver dragged his fingers up her bare arms and when she shivered, her head falling back at the sensation, his eyes flew back to her face.
Would he ever not feel that stab in his chest at just how beautiful she was? He hoped not.
Her bra was next. Oliver slid the straps off her shoulders, her breasts falling in the thin cups. Her hard nipples caught on the material and his mouth watered, knowing they were dusky little peaks, remembering how they felt against his tongue. Her soft skin glowed in the lamplight, a stark contrast to the dark bra, and his body responded. He wanted to spend the next several hours on her breasts alone. But that would come later. Because they had a later. They had time.
Felicity licked her lips and reached behind her, unhooking the bra, her wet mouth catching the lamplight.
Oliver pulled it off, revealing her gorgeous breasts. Dropping her bra on the ground, he cupped them, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, his lids growing heavy. She let out a shuddery sigh and when he looked up at her, his stomach dipped at the pools of passion in her eyes. They only deepened as he circled his thumbs around the hardening buds, her breath hitching as she pressed her chest closer to his touch. He palmed her breasts, and she moaned.
Her reaction tore at him, need whipping through him with so much intensity his lungs seized.
Oliver surged forward, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss. His thumbs grazed the underside of her breasts as she fell back under his assault. He delighted in the shiver she gave him when his fingers brushed down her back. He wanted to push her back and climb on top, press the length of his body against hers, but he stopped himself.
He wanted to feel all of her, completely, totally.
With a moaned, “Felicity,” he kissed her chin instead, and then down, down…
She fell back on the bed, spreading her legs for him, her hands gripping his shoulders to pull him with her, but he had other plans. Felicity whimpered, whispering, “Oliver, please,” as she pushed her hands into his hair, gripping it tight, but he just nipped at her collarbone instead.
He worked his way down her body, pausing at her breasts. He sucked a nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around it, making her cry out his name. His cock jumped at the sound. Oliver moved to the other one, but he avoided her nipple this time, much to her chagrin. He smiled at the noises she made as he kissed the delicate skin of her breast, his tongue laving her. She tasted different from this morning - then she’d been clean from her shower, but now there was a fine layer of saltiness that he wanted more of. Oliver sucked and pulled, hard enough to leave a bruise.
A wave of possession hit him and he found himself sucking even harder, wanting to leave his mark on her, before he forced himself to back off. It felt archaic, thinking of it that way, thinking of her that way…
Felicity instantly disagreed, shaking her head, wrapping her legs around his waist as she gasped, “Oliver, please… please…” urging him to where she needed him. The desperate plea was all it took for him to wrap his lips around her nipple and suck on it. Her next cry was louder, but that wasn’t nearly enough. Oliver greedily pushed the hard bud against the roof of his mouth where he rubbed it back and forth, eliciting a ragged, “Aah,” from her as her fingers spasmed against his scalp, her feet anchoring on his back to thrust her hips up against his chest.
He could feel her arousal for him through her pants.
Oliver growled, the vibrations around her sensitive flesh making her moan as he flattened his body against her, giving her more friction where she needed it.
It also had him rubbing the painfully hard bulge in his pants right against the side of the bed.
His hips jerked and he released her nipple with a hissed, “Fuck,” as pleasure had bursts of stars exploding against his closed lids.
He couldn’t wait. He needed her. Now.
Oliver stood up, his fingers slipping into the band of her pants and panties. He pulled them down and Felicity lifted her hips to help. The leggings stuck to her legs like glue, and he peeled them, unable to hold back his huff of annoyance when they didn’t just evaporate. Felicity laughed, a deep throaty sound, and that did nothing to ratchet down his need as she pulled her legs back for him until she was completely naked.
She laid before him, completely open to his gaze, and he paused, taking her in.
“You are so beautiful,” he said.
Felicity smiled, blushing, and he watched in fascination as it started on her chest, spreading up neck but also down, coloring her breasts. She bit her lip, her legs scissoring together. He wanted to smooth his hands over them, urge her to open them again, to never hide from him.
He hoped she could see it in his eyes, and he thought she did when she smiled at him, her body relaxing again before she sat up. Felicity hooked her fingers into his exposed boxers with a low, “C’mere.”
Oliver’s stomach fluttered. His hands found her shoulders as Felicity pulled his jeans down his hips, leaving them to slide down his legs before she tugged his boxers down next. He felt her breathing change as she moved, pulling the material down just enough for the very hard evidence of his arousal to pop free from its bindings. He was so damned sensitive the cool air was enough to make him hiss, but that was nothing compared to when Felicity’s hand wrapped around him.
“Oh god,” he gasped, his hips jerking into her touch.
His length slid against her palm. She moved her hand around him, twisting her wrist up to the tip where she brushed her thumb over the head.
Oliver choked out a breath, gripping her shoulders tight, falling forward until his forehead hit the crown of her head. His breath was hot against her hair as she wrapped both hands around him, smoothing them down, and he swore he got harder, swore he felt himself swell even more, which felt like a fucking feat all things considered. But it was Felicity holding him like this, her hands around him, her touch sending pleasure flooding his veins. The thought of it crashed with reality and his cock jumped in her hands. Felicity slid one hand down to cup his balls, her other twisting back to cup the very tip again… and then she leaned forward, like she wanted to take him into her mouth. Oh god. Every single inch of him yearned towards her, wanting to feel her lips wrap around him, her tongue taste the cum he knew was beading at the tip, to feel her swirl it around as she sucked him into her warm mouth…
He was suddenly vividly aware of the fact that he hadn’t gotten off since last night in the shower and while that had been spectacular, thinking about the soft curve of Felicity’s back, it was nothing compared to right now.
Oliver stepped back, forcing Felicity to let him go. He shook his head as he cupped her head, bringing her face back up to his as he whispered, “I won’t last if you do that,” just before he kissed her. He was painfully aware that she was sitting before him, completely naked, her legs spread, her wet heat right there, waiting for him, and he whimpered, kissing her harder before he ripped himself away. “Condom,” he said against her lips.
“Condom,” Felicity agreed, nodding, kissing him one more time before letting him go.
Oliver stepped out of his jeans and shoved his boxers down before stumbling over to the nightstand. The drawer was filled with condoms - thank god - and he grabbed one, instantly tearing it open. He rolled it on and turned around to find Felicity already lying diagonally across the bed, her legs parted just enough to see her glistening sex.
Dear fucking god, she was so gorgeous, so perfect, so amazing…
His jaw dropped, his needy ache for her making his cock hurt.
With half-lidded, lust-filled eyes, she raised her hand, beckoning him to her.
He crawled onto the bed and over her, letting out a shaky breath when she opened herself to him. Felicity welcomed him with open arms, the quiet smile on her lips making his heart skip a beat. Oliver settled over her, angling himself so his hardness wasn't pressed right against her heat just yet. That didn’t stop pleasure from suffusing his entire being when he pressed himself right into the crook her inner thigh made. It was only amplified when she wrapped herself around him, her hands skating down his back, her lips finding his cheek, his temple, his ear.
He sunk against her like she was made for him, like he was home.
Oliver shivered under the weight of that thought.
He wasn't the only one.
Felicity’s fingers trembled where she held his face.
Like a switch went off, every ounce of his focus shifted from their precarious position and right back to her.
Oliver propped himself up on his elbows so he could see her. He cradled her head between his palms, pushing his fingers through her hair and against her scalp as he whispered, “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Felicity nodded, a brief smile pulling at her lips. “Yeah, I'm okay.” Her eyes switched to watch her hands as she played with the edges of his hair, a tiny anxious line forming between her brows. “I'm just…”
It would only be later that Oliver would look back and realize this was the first time he didn't freak out about her half-sentences, or fill in the empty spaces with his own fears. That was gone, because now he knew that was with him just as much as he was with her.
“What?” Oliver urged. Another thing he'd recognize later was how easy it was to shut off his body when it came to making sure she was okay. “Hey.” Her eyes found his again. “Talk to me, Felicity.”
For a split second the anxious line smoothed away, like the sound of her name on his lips was enough to do that, but then it was back.
“I'm… I’m nervous, I guess,” Felicity admitted in a hushed voice. She huffed out a little laugh as she closed her eyes and Oliver wanted nothing more than to soothe her worries away with the brush of his hand. But he knew that was impossible so instead he rubbed his thumbs against her temples, waiting for her to continue. He could see the words forming on her face before her eyes fluttered open again. “I'm always a little nervous for the first time…”
He smiled softly. “Me too.”
“But this feels… different.” Felicity met his gaze, smiling before biting her lip. “It's special.” The words were barely audible, but even if he hadn't heard them - and he was so grateful he did, because they sent his heart soaring - he would have seen it on her face. She stared at him, searching his eyes. “This is special. This, and… us.”
The vulnerability and wonder shining at him through her eyes hit him hard.
“Yeah,” Oliver whispered. “It is.”
Felicity’s eyes danced over his face, and he hoped she saw everything he felt for her, everything he wanted to say. It wasn't confirmation that they were both in this, because they'd already done that. This was more.
She gave him a watery grin and a wispy, “Oliver,” before she pulled his lips down to hers.
Happiness.
It was in her voice, and it was what he tasted as she kissed him.
They kissed for the longest time and then moved as one, Felicity wrapping herself around him as Oliver stretched the length of his body over his. His hardness rubbed against her and he whimpered, his hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation, inadvertently rubbing himself right against her heat.
Felicity nodded, whispering, “Please,” between kisses. “Oliver…” Her voice dropped as she said, “Make love to me.”
Oliver’s heart somehow stopped and started at the same time. He cupped her head, pulling back to look at her, needing to make sure he heard her correctly. He did. She stared up at him, and the intensity in her gaze set him on fire. Emotion seared through him, flooding him, and it was his turn to nod. Never breaking eye contact, he kissed her softly and then he slipped a hand between them.
Her breath hitched when his fingers grazed her wetness. He slipped his finger over her entrance. Her inner walls spasmed, aching to be filled.
“Yes,” Felicity said, kissing him, sliding her hand down his arm to grip his forearm tightly. “Oliver.”
He shifted his hips back, both of them sighing at the sensation of his length brushing over the damp skin of her thigh, before he gripped his length.
Oliver slid himself through her wetness, up and over her clit, spreading her juices, before he found her entrance.
He slowly pressed himself inside her, just the head.
“Oh… god…”
It was perfect.
She was perfect.
Felicity’s mouth fell open in a breathless moan as he shuddered, his forehead falling against hers. Her warmth encased him, dominating every sense until all he could feel was her embrace. She rocked her hips up, and he slid in further, so easily. Her body was ready for him, and the second she gave him another eager thrust, urging him deeper. God, he wanted to take his time, to feel her, to make sure she was ready so this was perfect for her…
But her slight movements pushed him over the edge and he gave in.
Oliver thrust into her, in to the hilt, filling her completely.
Felicity stiffened with a gasp, not as ready as he thought. Her breaths came in uneven pants that he matched as he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to pause, letting her adjust to him… fighting the nearly undeniable desire to start hammering into her. She just felt so damn good around him, so warm, so wet, so smooth.
He cursed, fighting for equilibrium, grabbing her hip to hold onto something.
“Oliver,” she moaned, grabbing his face, anchoring him to her with a kiss. He groaned against her lips, kissing her back, rocking closer to her. The move pushed him even deeper, his pubic bone pressing to her clit. Felicity broke away with a breathy cry followed by a, “Yes…”
He rocked against her again, and she matched him perfectly, her hips thrusting up in return.
Concentrating on her, he focused on her responses, on the delightful noises she made as he moved inside her with shallow thrusts. Her walls clenched around him, but his pleasure faded into the background as he fixated on her, pressing wet kisses to her face, peppering them everywhere as he started deepening his thrusts.
She choked out his name, her hands finding his hair again, fisting it. Felicity buried her face in his neck, panting his name, her sounds morphing into cries as he pushed himself even deeper, angling his hips to brush over her clit.
“Ooh…!” Felicity cried, pressing her mouth to his shoulder, muffling the rest of her sounds as he did it again, and again.
Her hot breath was a stark contrast to the cool air in the room and goosebumps sent a shiver down his spine. His own pleasure spiked, a white wave of it crashing through him.
“Aah, Felicity!” Oliver gasped, falling against her.
He thrust harder, losing himself in her wet heat, in the feel of her mouth on his skin, her moans of his name, her hands on him.
It wasn't enough, he needed more. He wanted more, he wanted to surround himself in her, bury himself as deep as he could, lose himself in her…
Oliver shoved his arms underneath her, wrapping her up in his arms, cradling her against him so intimately his chest burned. She immediately reciprocated, pulling her legs up - he slid into her so fully that he whimpered, a cascade of words he couldn't comprehend falling from his lips. She locked her ankles against his back, winding her arms around his neck. He pulled a leg up, pinning her to the bed as he buried his face in her throat, planting messy kisses to the long, delicate column.
But it wasn't enough.
He wanted to connect with her, completely, totally.
Oliver kissed his way up her throat, her jaw, his lips brushing over her cheek, his stubble catching her lips before he kissed her. And then he looked at her. She was already watching him and the instant their eyes met, the intensity of their position ratcheted up to near-blinding levels.
A million and one words flew between them, and he wanted to say all of them, right now, but he didn’t have to.
Keeping one arm wrapped underneath her back, Oliver slid the other up until he was cupping the back of her neck, his fingers sinking into her hair.
Their gaze never once faltered as he pulled his hips back and thrust into her, again… and again.
Felicity’s mouth trembled, parting on a moan, her skin flushing to match the pink of her lips, and he knew she felt it too, their connection. The power of it made the room spin, but it wasn’t distracting or debilitating, because he was in her arms, and he knew he was safe there.
Oliver watched her, reading her reactions, changing the angle of his thrusts until he found the perfect spot.
When he finally did, he watched in fascination as her entire countenance shifted, a new pleasure flooding her features, her mouth falling open in a desperate cry. Her eyes slipped shut for a second, but she forced them open, finding his again, unwilling to lose the contact as much as he was.
It only amplified everything, making each thrust resonate more with a sharpness he felt in the soles of his feet. He grazed her clit with each thrust, right where she needed it, watching her start to crumble in his arms. It was beautiful, so fucking beautiful, something he could watch forever, and he did. He kept his eyes on her, responding to her whimpers of, “Right there, yes… yes, don’t stop… Oliver, Oliver… Oliver,” following her cues as best he could, wanting to see her come.
Sweat beaded along his spine as the familiar burn of his own pleasure started to build.
He gripped her tighter, fighting it, wanting her to come first.
But then she started thrusting back against him, her walls clutching him tight, and he shuddered.
“Oh… god,” Oliver whispered, his hips moving faster. Her cries became sharper, louder, her nails digging into his back. She nodded, holding her breath as they both moved. Pleasure and passion glazed her eyes, the flush in her cheeks suddenly shifting as she furrowed her brow in concentration. “Felicity,” Oliver moaned, his lids growing heavy as heat curled at the base of his spine. “Please… Felicity… Felicity…”
A breathless cry was his response.
Felicity cupped his face, pulling his lips to hers before sliding one hand down to his ass. He cursed when she dug her nails into him, and he thrust harder, sinking into her warmth with more urgency. She met every single thrust with uneven jerks of her hips, breaking away when the need for oxygen became too much.
His need and desire for her took over, his thrusts growing wilder with each passing second, her name falling from his lips in a litany.
She gasped his, her voice becoming strangled as he hit her clit over and over.
“Oh, oh… oh god, Oliver, don’t stop, don’t… oh…!”
He felt her stiffen underneath him, every inch of her clinging to him as he thrust into her, his voice cracking as he whispered for her to come, to please come, come for him…
And with a soundless scream, Felicity did. She flew apart at the seams with a series of ragged shouts, her silken walls pulsing around him with so much force he cried out.
It was gorgeous, absolute heaven to his ears hearing her falling to pieces in his arms… and it was the final straw.
Oliver gripped her tight, burying himself in her. He dug his face in her throat, grunting as his hips moved faster, pounding into her, seeking his own release. It was close, so close, and he heard her whispering his name in blissful whines, her face pressing to the side of his head, her lips finding his ear.
The pressure built, coiling tighter, tighter…
“Felicity, Felicity… Felicity!”
White sheeted over his eyes.
Oliver came hard, his orgasm ripping through him, heat razing his nerves. He didn’t hear the desperate cries he let out as his hips thrust wildly into her, riding the pleasure she gave him, spilling into the condom. Her inner walls spasmed around him, milking him for more, and he kept moving, over and over, losing himself in her until he was completely spent.
His gasps of her name filled the room, his mind filled with only her as he buried himself in her as deep as he possibly could before he finally fell still.
Pleasure radiated through him.
Satisfaction suffused every inch.
They didn’t move for a long time, save for Oliver shifting his weight to his elbows so he wasn’t crushing her. Even then she wrapped herself around him, unwilling to let him go. It filled him with so much joy he could barely breathe. He didn’t want to move. He never wanted to move, not ever again.
So much had changed in the space of twenty-four hours.
The rest of his life.
He wanted to talk about it, he wanted to tell her how much wonder it filled him with, how grateful he was she gave him another chance, that she trusted him with not only with that, but her, her heart and body and soul… And he would, but later. Because right now he just wanted to hold her, and fall asleep with her in his arms.
Felicity pressed soft lingering kisses to his face. His heart soared as he leaned into her lips, nuzzling her until his mouth found hers.
They didn’t speak, because they didn’t have to.
Oliver pulled out of her, whispering, “I’ll be right back,” before climbing off the bed.
His legs were shaky as he made his way to the bathroom, peeling the used condom off. He was spent, and he was only in there long enough to toss it away and wipe himself clean with a washcloth from the closet. He thought about bringing one back for Felicity, but the shuffle of feet behind him answered that.
The bathroom light was off, leaving her silhouetted in the lamplight from his room. She’d grabbed his shirt again and it was draped over her, only her fingers keeping it together between her breasts. Her hair was a wild halo around her head, from his hands and from making love. There was enough light for him to see she was biting her lip as she leaned against the doorjamb, her eyes taking their fill of him.
“Hi,” Oliver whispered, a little shyly.
Felicity smiled, ducking her head with a small grin. “Hi.” She waved at the bathroom. “I was just gonna clean up a little bit.”
“Right.”
Oliver tossed the cloth away and closed the few feet separating them, painfully aware of his nakedness, but not in a bad way. He was just aware of it, of how intimate it was to be with her like this, especially the closer he got. He thought about stepping aside, letting her in and then going back to bed. But then he thought about kissing her, about pushing his hands underneath her shirt before he was back to thinking he should let her be. He had no idea where the sudden rash of indecision was coming from, but it all evaporated when she reached for him.
Felicity let the ends of the shirt go, and he caught a glimpse of the edges of her naked breasts and her wet sex before she pushed up onto her toes to kiss him.
It was soft, sweet, and so gentle, a loving follow-up to what they’d just shared.
He wrapped his arms around her, sighing when her naked body pressed against his, their mouths opening just enough to taste each other.
With a hum, Felicity pulled back with a smile.
Oliver kissed her once more before he let her go. He made his way back to the bed as she closed the door, going about her business. He didn’t bother with his boxers as he pulled the comforter back and climbed in - on his side - and with a sigh, let himself sink in.
He doubled up his pillow, trying not to listen to every single move she made in the bathroom. But he also couldn’t help himself. Some part of him had once wondered, at the very beginning, if he ever slept with Felicity if that’d get her out of his system. He snorted. It was the exact fucking opposite. He was positively starved for her, from everything to her touch and kisses to wondering what her bathroom routine was. He wanted to discover everything he could about Felicity Smoak, absolutely everything.
The door opened, pulling Oliver from his thoughts.
He watched her walk back to the bed. She was still in his shirt, and it was still unbuttoned, letting him catch glimpses of her. She paused to ask, “Should I turn the light off?”
“No,” Oliver whispered. “Leave it on.”
He wanted to see her, for as long as he could. He gestured her back to the bed, flipping open the comforter for her.
A small smile lit her face at the gesture and she walked around to her side, slipping his shirt off, leaving it to land in a messy pile on the floor. He watched her every move as she climbed into bed with him, joining him under the comforter, mesmerized by everything - absolutely fucking everything, it was amazing - as he drank her in.
The second she was within reach he pulled her close, tucking the comforter in around her. She giggled when his movements tickled her, but all he did was smile because it meant she just scooted closer to him. She pressed her back to his chest, her backside settling against him just right, and Oliver curled around her, digging his face into her throat, making her giggle again as she wound her arms around his.
Silence settled over them.
As sleep started making Oliver’s limbs heavy, his eyes slipping shut, he felt like he was floating. In happiness. In awe, amazement, wonder…
He cuddled her closer, settling in with a sigh.
“Oliver?”
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice thick with impending rest, his arms tightening around her.
“Thank you.”
That woke him up.
Oliver furrowed his brow, his mind racing through his sluggish thoughts to understand why in the world she would be thanking him.
“For what?” he whispered.
She shifted, turning just enough so she could look back at him. Felicity stared at him, and the earnestness in her eyes made his heart feel about twenty times bigger.
“For not being that guy,” she replied. Felicity reached back to drag her fingertips down the side of his face. “For being the guy I thought you were when we first met.”
Oliver could only stare at her. He tried to form the words, any words, but nothing came up, because that… that was huge.
He started speaking, just needing her to know how much that meant to him, saying the first thing that came to mind.
“You make me want to be a better person,” he said. He heard the words as they were coming out, and he huffed out a small chuckle at him, shaking his head. “That’s something everyone says, isn’t it, but… but I… I want to deserve you, Felicity.”
A thin sheen of tears filled her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. He scooted closer, wanting to soak up any reason she might have to cry ever, but then she smiled. “You do, Oliver,” she replied. “You do.” He believed her. God, he believed her and he vowed that he would be. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was tired or because he’d finally made love to her, but there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation anymore. “You’re doing it again,” Felicity whispered.
“Doing what?”
“Saying the right words to make my heart do the thing.” She tapped her finger to his nose, bopping him, trying to lighten the mood as she added, “You gotta take care of this thing, mister.”
Oliver wasn’t sure if those exact words were her intention, but he didn’t care, taking them at face value either way.
“I will,” he replied. “Always.”
“There you go,” she said, her voice betraying how hard his words hit her, “doing it again, making me…”
Oliver swooped in before she could finish, his lips covering hers, sealing the unspoken promise. The way they laid kept them from deepening, but it was more than enough.
He finally pulled back, but not without a couple more lingering kisses.
Neither of them spoke, staring into each other’s eyes before they curled around each other again.
Oliver scooted down until his knees fit perfectly behind hers, his arms wrapped around her. She cradled them to her chest, lacing their fingers together, dropping a kiss to his wrist. He pressed his lips to her shoulder blade.
“Goodnight,” she whispered.
Oliver smiled, kissing her shoulder again. “Goodnight.”
He fell asleep first, to the sensation of her thumb rubbing against the back of his knuckles, her lips brushing his wrist, her light breaths lulling him to sleep…
It didn’t last long.
Oliver woke a few hours later, and used his kisses and the strokes of his hand down the side of her body to rouse her. With a sleepy moan, Felicity responded, turning in his arms, her lips finding his. It wasn’t long before she was pushing him on his back and climbing on top, straddling him. She remembered the condom this time, she reached into the nightstand to find one, ripping it open and putting it on before she gripped him, guiding him to her entrance. Lingering exhaustion quickly dragged them down, making their movements rushed and uneven, but they quickly found their rhythm, their bodies taking over as she rode him. Felicity fell against his chest and they wrapped themselves around each other. Oliver lifted his knees, using the leverage to thrust up into her as she ground down on him, his face buried in her hair, hers against his neck. Her cries were louder than before, losing herself in her pleasure, and they echoed through the room as she fell to pieces, urging him to follow barely a second later.
They fell asleep again.
Several alarms on her phone going off in rapid succession roused them an hour after that.
After a lot of grumbling and cursing, Felicity got up, whispering, “I have to leave soon if I’m gonna make it back in time for class.”
Oliver gave her a bleary nod and a sloppy kiss, not letting go of her hand until he absolutely had to.
He managed to open his eyes, watching her walk away.
One look at her swaying ass and he was up, following her into the shower. It lasted way longer than it should have, but when Oliver tried to get her back on track after teasing her - which wasn’t easy, especially when he saw the very large hickey he’d left on her breast - but it was Felicity who said she didn’t care, dropping to her knees, taking him into her mouth. Oliver came with a sharp shout, his head hitting the tiled wall with a loud thud, his fingers tangling in her wet hair as she took every last drop. He returned the favor, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder, pushing her up against the same wall, devouring her until she nearly pulled all his hair out as she came.
Her taste and the sounds she made as he pleasured her made him hard again, but he managed to keep his hands to himself as they both cleaned up. But then she walked back into his room and he caught her dropping the towel from around her body, using it to dry her hair. The motion made her entire body wiggle in delicious ways and before he could think twice he was grabbing her, hauling her back onto the bed where he made love to her one more time.
By the time they’d gotten dressed - she was wearing his shirt again, saying she needed to stop at her apartment and change anyway - and brushed their teeth - including her teasing him about where he’d put her toothbrush next to his the night before - the sun was rising, coloring the sky with a myriad of dusky pinks and burnt oranges.
She had a momentary panic attack when she forgot where her glasses were, but it quickly abated when they found them downstairs where she’d left them last night, sitting haphazardly on the table next to the couch.
Oliver left with her, even though his first class wasn’t until eleven that morning. He locked the house up, making a mental note to come back out this weekend and clean up some more before the monthly cleaning, and then he laced his fingers with hers, walking her out to where her Mini was parked next to his. He tugged her into his side as they walked, kissing her temple. She leaned into him, her damp hair tickling his nose, her hand finding his heart.
He waited to make sure her car started, and when it did, he laughed at the delighted squeak she let out, her fist flying into the air with a mini-victory dance.
She was the cutest fucking thing in the entire world.
And she was his, just as much as he was hers.
Oliver was so fucking happy he could dance himself.
“Hey,” he said, pulling her up out of the car for a moment. Felicity stepped out, instantly stepping into his arms. He smiled, leaning down to capture her lips for a second. Just because he wanted to. Because he could. Oliver leaned his forehead against hers, swaying, like he really was dancing. She gladly went along. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked.
“I have a two-hour lecture that doesn’t start until five,” she replied. “So I’ll be probably sitting in my car after that, staring straight ahead, trying to remember how to use my brain because my professor’s voice is very drone-like.”
Oliver chuckled, smoothing his hands up her sides and over her back before going down again, finding her hips. “Would you like to have dinner with me when you’re done?”
“Dinner? Like a date? A date-date?”
“Well…” Oliver’s brain faltered, because… Well, he thought it was sort of assumed that that was what it would be and for a split second, he forgot how to speak as he said, “Sure, yeah, I mean… the implication being with dinner that you… that we…” He huffed in exasperation and she grinned, her lips already forming the words, ‘Sentence fragments,’ with far too much amusement. He nodded with his own smile, saying it for her. “Sentence fragments, I know. It’s your damn fault, you know. You make me flustered.”
“I like that I make you flustered,” she whispered.
“You do a very good job of it,” he said. She giggled and he took a deep breath, the words ready this time. “Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?”
“Yes,” Felicity replied immediately, nodding with a happy grin. “I would love to.” She cupped his face. “I wanna be yours, remember?”
“Yes,” Oliver breathed. The words were as close to what he felt as anything, and they settled inside him, filling him with warmth. He pressed his forehead to hers. “And I wanna be yours.”
They sealed it with a kiss.
*
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!!
Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.
Next up is the Epilogue! I've been planning this ending since I decided to continue this 'verse almost two years ago, I'm excited to share it with you guys.
Final update will be on Saturday!
#olicity#olicity fic#olicity fanfic#olicity fanfiction#olicitysquee#oliver queen#felicity smoak#olicity au#arrow#fanfiction#wanna be yours#my fics#my fics: au#dust2dust34
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Ownership - Chapter 18 (A Kylo RenxOC AU)
Cora Ardmore and Kylo Ren work for rival companies, but they don’t know that until after they spend the night together. Once their identities are revealed to each other it’s a question of who will cave first?
This fic is mostly porn, pure kinky porn.
Please leave comments, kudos and reblogs if you like it. If you would like to be tagged, let me know.
Warnings: Language, Plot, Phone sex, Dom/Sub Relationship, Masturbation, Dirty talk, Alcohol, Snoke being a creep
Chapter 18
Kylo Ren
I had half an hour before lunch break was over, half an hour to psyche myself up to confront Snoke. Cora was right. If I wanted this story to get out to the public, I needed to get Snoke to trust me more. But it wasn’t her ass on the line. If I went in accusing him, there was no doubt he would return in a hostile manner. I had to do this calmly, as if I’d come across the anomalies and was making him aware of them. With my appetite gone, I replaced the lid on my takeout and pushed it away from me. Picking up my notebook, I decided to get this over and done with now instead of waiting around where I would only freak myself more. Exiting my office, I headed to the lift and took two floors up. Of course, Snoke had the entire top floor to himself. Whereas Armitage and I had to share.
The lift dinged, the metal doors sliding open to reveal the plush waiting area. His assistant, Martha, sat at her desk and gave a soft frown. I didn’t have a fucking appointment.
“Mr Ren, there’s nothing here in his schedule that says you’d be visiting,” she said with a false politeness.
“Surprise visit. Something really important I need to tell him.”
“Well, he’s currently with Mr Tarkin and Mr Krennic until one pm. Your welcome to take a seat and wait. He may have five minutes to spare between meetings, but you really should have called ahead.”
“I’ll bear it in mind for the future,” I gave her a fake smile before taking a seat.
I didn’t like the fact he was meeting with Tarkin and Krennic, probably plotting god knows what.
My nerves were getting the better of me, my leg bouncing as I glanced at my watch every minute. Finally the door opened, Krennic and Tarkin leaving. Snoke stood by the door and his gaze fell to me, a smile spreading across his face.
“Kylo, I wasn’t expecting you,” he spoke, “come in.”
Following him inside his office, I waited to see where I would be allowed to sit. Either at his desk, or the couch, or the little table and chairs he had in the corner. Snoke took us to the couch, and I sat on the expensive leather.
“You look like you could do with a drink. Whiskey? Scotch? Bourbon?” Snoke offered.
The kinder and accommodating he was, the harder it seemed to go about this. But I had to keep reminding myself that what he was doing was wrong.
“Whiskey, please.” I answered.
It would help calm my nerves and make it easier to talk. Snoke pulled a bottle from the bar and poured until the two glasses were half full. Handing me my drink, he sat down next to me.
“What troubles you? I know that look,” he asked, taking a sip.
Drinking a mouthful, I let the warmth of the alcohol settle in my stomach before finally speaking.
“I didn’t want to have to bother you with something like this. It’s probably nothing, but I just wanted to be sure. I found some anomalies in the stock count folder from last year and I found a few companies that don’t exist,” I explained.
Snoke nodded, his eyes dropping to my notebook, “did you write them down?”
Opening the notebook to the marked page, I handed it to him. Snoke scanned the list with interest before handing it back to me.
“You always were so clever. I was a fool to not have you on board sooner. I have been selling supplies to other business partners. Smaller groups that are unlisted for a reason,” he confessed.
Whilst this was going well so far, if I didn’t tread carefully, this could still go wrong.
“When you say smaller groups, do you mean…” I trailed off.
“What others would deem terrorists. Yes. I know that may seem very conflicting for you Kylo, our job is to provide security and defence for the country. But what about other countries that don’t have the same level of security and defence as us? If they are willing to pay for a product, then I’m not going to turn them down. Frankly, half of them pay better than our American customers.”
“I understand. It’s just a lot to take in.”
Snoke smiled sympathetically, “I want you on board Kylo. I saw something special in you when we met, and I still see it now. You’ve always been such a valuable asset to the company.”
“What would be required of me?”
“You are always such a good businessman; you know exactly to strike a deal and get people to agree to the terms-“
“I think your mistaking me with Armitage,” I joked, “I know the two of us don’t see eye to eye all the time but when we put aside our differences we do work well together.”
“You do. If you agree to be on board, I would also want Armitage on board. Both of you would be unstoppable and the pay rise you’d both get would be well worth it.”
“I can talk to him, if you’d like. I don’t think he’d take much convincing.”
“I have a free half an hour later, I’ll do it. I’m glad you’ve agreed to be on board Kylo. It’ll be a great opportunity to progress like you’ve always wanted, you’ll be able to travel the world on the company’s expenses too. It’s a win-win situation. However, you’ll need to open a new bank account. I have a few open in Puerto Rico, that way I can’t be taxed even more. The money you make from this work I’ll deposit in that account.”
Tax evasion. Another thing to add to the list of offences.
“Right, you think with how much we donate to charity they could cut us some slack,” I joked.
Snoke chuckled at that, which made me feel better about the situation. That I wasn’t being suspicious.
“I would recommend going this weekend, the sooner its open, the sooner we can start really working together,” Snoke suggested.
The weekend? Cora and I hadn’t spent the weekend apart since the beginning of the relationship. Whilst I didn’t like the idea, I knew it had to be done. She wouldn’t be happy about it either, but she’d understand.
“Sure, I can do this weekend,” I agreed.
“Good. Leave everything to me, I’ll send you the details tomorrow. Is that everything? Or was there something else you wished to discuss?”
“No. That’s everything. Thank you for giving me another amazing opportunity. I really don’t know where I’d be now if I hadn’t met you.”
I finished my drink, and Snoke, then led me to the door. Once completely out of sight in the elevator, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
I couldn’t quite believe I’d gotten away with it. I knew better than to completely trust the situation though and let myself get comfortable. If Snoke wasn’t watching me like a hawk, I knew Tarkin or Krennic would be. Pulling out my phone, I sent Armitage a quick heads up text so he could prepare himself for Snoke later. Now I just had to break the news to Cora tonight.
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Later around 9:30pm I got ready for bed and slipped under the sheets. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I called Cora and waited for her to answer.
“Hey, it’s about time you called me. I was starting to get worried that I needed to send the cops round for a wellbeing check,” Cora answered, the relief obvious in her voice.
“You don’t need to worry, I’m okay. Snoke brought it and I’m in.”
“That’s great. That’s really gonna help speed things along. I also found a few things today that might help.”
“Oh?”
“Armitage sent me something earlier. Theres a recorded break in at The First Order warehouses, but there’s no police report. Two crates of supplies were taken. Only the records doesn’t list any damage to the building and the alarm didn’t go off. So to me, it seems someone let them in and take what they wanted.”
I frowned, “Armitage sent you that?”
“Yeah, I was just as surprised as you are. But it’s very helpful. I also did my own research. Last year the state of California made an arrest for suspected terrorism. I’m going to pull a few strings and see if I can get an interview.”
I didn’t like the sound of Cora going to a maximum-security prison to interview someone on her own. But I couldn’t go with her now that I was ‘in cahoots’ with Snoke.
“You’re not going on your own,” I replied, firmly.
“I mean, I was probably going to take Finn or someone else with me. I’ve interviewed criminals before, I’ll be okay.”
I still didn’t like it, but I didn’t have the energy to argue with her.
“I’m not gonna be able to do this weekend,” I finally broke the news to her.
“Oh? Is everything okay?”
“Its fine. Just Snoke wants me to travel and open a new bank account. Preferably overseas.”
“For tax evasion purposes?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going on your own?”
“I don’t know. He’s organizing the whole thing. He also mentioned how he’d get Armitage on board too. So if that’s the case, we’ll likely be going together.”
Cora laughed softly, “try not to kill each other during the flight.”
“I’ll try not to. I’m going to miss you, Kitten.”
There was a pause on Coras end for a few seconds, “I’m gonna miss you too.”
“What are you gonna miss more, Kitten? My tongue or my cock?”
“Hmmm, that’s a very hard question,” she purred.
“That’s not the only thing that’s hard right now, Kitten.”
My cock was already half hard just from thinking about her perfect pussy. Putting my phone on loudspeaker, I placed it next to me on the pillow. Slowly I stroked and teased my cock through my boxers, the fabric getting tighter around my growing cock.
“Are you going to touch yourself for me, Kitten?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Put the phone on loudspeaker so I can hear how wet your pussy gets.”
I could picture her biting her lip at that, her cheeks tinging a soft pink. There was a rustling sound, likely Cora undressing and getting herself comfortable.
“Tell me how wet you are right now,” I ordered.
Coras breath hitched as she stroked herself, “not quite dripping, Sir but I’m sure you can change that.”
I chuckled, taking my boxers off, “your right about that, Kitten. Fuck, I’m so hard for you right now. Rub your clit for me, Kitten.”
Cora inhaled sharply as she did as she was told. She whined softly, likely bucking into her own touch.
“That feel good, Kitten?” I asked, stroking my cock at the breathy little noises she made.
“Yes, sir. Not as good as your fingers though.”
“Bet my tongue would feel even better. I’d eat you out until you were shaking for me, Kitten.”
My mouth watered at the thought of her dripping wet pussy, how good she always tasted. Gripping my cock tighter, I gave it long slow strokes, pre-cum beading at the tip. Cora moaned as she continued stroking her clit, the sound making my cock twitch.
“How bad do you want my cock, Kitten?” I asked.
“I need it, sir, I’m aching to be filled.”
“Then use your fingers, Kitten. Fuck yourself open for me.”
Cora moaned louder as she likely pushed two fingers into her greedy pussy. Speeding up my own pace, I groaned at the mental image of Cora naked on her bed, her body flushed red and writhing in pleasure.
“Still want my cock, Kitten?” I asked, my voice breathier than before.
“You know I do.”
“Make yourself cum for me. I want to hear you come undone, Kitten.”
Cora cursed, likely curling her fingers against her hidden spot and rubbing her clit with her free hand.
“Fuck, Kitten, I miss the feeling of your perfect pussy wrapped around my cock. When I see you next, I’m going to fuck you until neither of us can move,” I growled.
She could only moan in response as she continued to take herself closer to the edge. Her moans came more frequently, her breathing shallow. I continued giving words of encouragement, desperate to hear more of her moans. By now, I was fucking my fist, chasing my own climax.
“Fuck! Kylo!” Cora cried out as she reached her peak, moaning my name over and over like a mantra.
Cora moaning my name was exactly what I needed to tip me over the edge, cumming into my fist and across my belly with a guttural groan. I continued to stroke myself until the slight pain of overstimulation set in.
“You better make good on that promise next weekend,” Cora giggled softly.
“Don’t I always make good on my promises, Kitten? This one’s no exception.”
Taglist: @sweetfictionalworld, @sweetsec-93, @cltex84, @jana-banana-fana, @dark-night-sky-99, @little-laamb, @jynzandtonic, @neeharlow
#kylo ren#kylo ren angst#kylo ren fanfiction#kylo ren fic#kylo ren fanfic#kylo ren fluff#kylo ren smut#kylo ren au#kylo renxoc#ben solo#ben solo angst#ben solo fanfic#ben solo fic#ben solo smut#ben solo fanfiction#ben solo feels#ben solo fluff#ben solo au#ben soloxoc#star wars#Star Wars fanfic#Star Wars Fic#star wars fanfiction#star wars fluff#star wars feels#star wars smut#star wars angst#star wars au
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Ownership - Chapter 14 (A Kylo RenxOC AU)
Cora Ardmore and Kylo Ren work for rival companies, but they don’t know that until after they spend the night together. Once their identities are revealed to each other it’s a question of who will cave first?
This fic is pure porn, pure kinky porn.
Please leave comments, kudos and reblogs if you like it. If you would like to be tagged let me know.
Warnings: Language, Plot (we are finally moving into the plot lads), Armitage Hux is a warning
Chapter 14
Kylo Ren
Another few months seemed to fly by, and soon enough my arrangement with Cora had been going on for an entire year. I’d played the long game to ensure her trust. Now felt like the best time to tell her and get her on board. I couldn’t hold the plan off forever, even if I was enjoying her company at the weekends. That morning I woke her with breakfast in bed, pancakes with honey and blueberries. Cora stirred as I kissed her cheek before opening her eyes. A soft smile spread across her face before she sat up. Spotting the breakfast tray, her smile grew further.
“Whats the occasion? You’re not normally this sweet in the morning?” She asked.
“Well, we did recently hit our one-year milestone. I feel that’s reason to celebrate.”
“Happy one-year anniversary of us fucking each other?”
Cora laughs at her own joke before taking a sip of the orange juice. I can’t help but laugh at the joke too, sitting down beside her on the bed. We share the pancakes, making small talk as we eat. Once we finished, I put the tray aside.
“I know we agreed to not get our jobs involved in this. But I can’t do that anymore,” I started.
Cora hung on my every word. There was what seemed a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Hope for what though, I had no idea.
“I can’t keep quiet about this anymore; I have to tell someone Cora and I figured you were the best person to tell. I think the CEO at my company is doing some illegal things on the side…things that could threaten the safety of this country,” I explained.
There was a moment where Cora looked disappointed, but she quickly looked at me with interest. Her journalist instinct had kicked in.
“And your telling me this with what intention exactly?” Cora asked.
“You’re a journalist. Even if I can’t stand the publication, I figured the best way for me to go public about this would be under the cover of your anonymous source.”
Cora nodded and got out of bed, throwing on some clean panties and a robe. Taking a seat, she leant forward to rest her elbows on her knee and her chin on her fist.
“How bad is it?” She asked, “Is he dealing with terrorists?”
“Bear in mind, I don’t have current proof for this, so you’ll have to take my word for it. But yes, I believe he’s selling weapons to terrorist groups.”
Taking a deep breath, Cora was quickly on her feet, pacing as if she needed time to think.
“Anything else?” She asked.
“Bribery, embezzlement. Likely murder, torture and god knows what else.”
“How long have you known?”
“About three years.”
She stopped mid-stride and turned to face me; her eyes wide in anger. This was new for her. She’d been pissed off with me before, sure, but I’d never seen such rage in her eyes.
“Why now? You’ve protected a diabolical human being for all these years. Why say something now? Has your fucking conscience finally made a reappearance?” She snapped.
I swallowed my need to reprimand her on her tone. I knew it wouldn’t do me any favours right now.
“Cora, I’m risking a lot simply telling you this now. If he finds out that I’ve told you, he’ll kill both of us,” I replied.
“So you kept quiet out of fear? So your balls have also reappeared?”
“Are you going to take the story or not?”
“Oh, you bet I am. But I’m still pissed off you conformed for so long, even whilst we were…” she trailed off.
“I already told you, getting you involved now puts you at risk. I care enough about you to not want you getting hurt because of me.”
Cora paused at this, her expression softening. Her rage had gone from boiling to a simmer. Her shoulders slumped and her fists unclenched.
“Well, it’s safe to say you will remain an anonymous source. And interviews remain between us,” Cora explained.
Good, that’s what I had wanted to hear.
“But before I even start writing this, I need evidence. Proof that this is all legit and you’re not leading me on some wild goose chase,” she continued.
That was fair. She’d probably had plenty of people waste her time in the past.
“I can get it for you by next weekend,” I declared.
I had no idea how I was going to get it, but I’d find a way.
“Are there any of other of your work colleagues that are involved?” She asked.
“You mean with Snoke or with me?”
Her eyebrow quirked in interest, “with you?”
“I’m not the only concerned with Snokes actions. Armitage Hux is also on board to take him down. And my assistant Dopheld Mitaka.”
Smirking, “does everyone you work with have stupid names?”
“Well…now that you mention it. Snoke has allies within the company. Men that were there since the beginning. Orson Krennic and Wilhuff Tarkin. I know they also both have ridiculous names.”
“Would Armitage be up for interviewing? Of course he would also remain completely anonymous,” Cora asked, sitting back down.
“I can ask him. I’m sure it wouldn’t be too much of an issue.”
“Okay. Don’t email me anything, or text me anything. All the evidence needs to be physical, to lessen the risk of Snoke finding out. It would probably be wise you get a burner phone and start contacting me using that from now on too.”
The way she said this made it sound so casual, like this was just protocol for her. Maybe she had done something like this before. But never on this scale. The Resistance had never done an issue on such a massive story. They normally wrote about things like Black Lives Matter, Global Warming, America’s healthcare system (or lack thereof). A story like this would fly off the shelves that they’d need reprints within the same month.
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Entering the office Monday morning, I sent a text to Armitage, asking him to meet me in my office at 10am. Mitaka was already finding me the inventory folders for me to look over for evidence. With this being the headquarters and main warehouse for production, that meant we had every single weapon counted and document as well as every single bullet. If anything was missing, I’d pick up on it. Going through my work emails helped pass the time whilst I waited. There was a soft knock at the door before Armitage entered my office without me having to call him in. He had a habit of doing that.
“I assume its important Ren, otherwise you would have sent me an email,” Armitage spoke, taking a seat opposite me.
“We’re moving forward with the operation.”
This had Armitage interested, a soft smirk at the corners of his lips.
“You found a suitable candidate? It’s about time. If you’d left it any longer who knows what state, we’d be in.”
“She would like to interview you if you’re up for that.”
“I assume you’ve already discussed confidentiality with her.”
I nodded, “she knows the risks. She’d like to know what you know. Get some background information, that sort of thing.”
“I can do that. Is there a number I can call her on to arrange it?”
Whilst I trusted Armitage with this, I didn’t trust him completely with Cora.
“I will arrange it. Her weekends are usually fully booked,” I said firmly.
Armitage smirked knowingly, “Fully booked because of you, I presume? Do you not trust me with her, Ren? Getting a little territorial?”
“I have the right too after what happened with my last sub.”
“You shouldn’t have left her unattended for so long. Besides, she told me she was up for both of us. You were the one who was being a prude about it.”
The look I gave him quickly made him drop the subject with a small chuckle. He knew how easy it was to rile me up.
Armitage chuckled, “Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I can fit her in next Saturday afternoon, around two. Would that fit with your schedule?”
“Two would be fine. You can do it at my place where I can keep an eye on you.”
“I’ll text you before I leave, just in case I’m running a bit behind.”
There was another knock at the door, three confident knocks before Mitaka poked his head in the room.
“I’m not interrupting, am I?” He asked.
“Not at all, we’re just about finished here, and I need to get back to work,” Armitage answered for me, rising from his seat.
Mitaka stepped further into the room before Armitage left, closing the door behind him. Mitaka was carrying last year’s very thick inventory folder.
“I don’t mind splitting it fifty fifty with you, sir. It would make things quicker,” Mitaka offered.
“I appreciate that, thanks.”
Putting the file on the desk, he then opened it and grabbed a handful before pushing over the rest.
“If you find anything, scan it and print it. Then highlight the copy,” I instructed.
Mitaka nodded his understanding and got himself comfortable in a chair, looking through the first page.
The pages were split into four columns. The first listed various firearms in alphabetical order. The second listed how many were made, the third listed how many were sold, and the fourth listed how many were left in our warehouses. I’d likely need a list of the companies that the firearms were sold too once I’d gone through this stack. There were probably inconsistences on that list as well. Companies that didn’t exist or the total number of units sold didn’t match the inventories total.
Mitaka and I finished up around 3pm with a reasonable large pile of copies to further investigate. After a late lunch break, Mitaka returned the inventory file and came back with another file that listed all the companies we had sold to last year. Thankfully, that wasn’t as thick. Mitaka read out the names whilst I did a quick google search. After the first three pages, we finally found a company that didn’t exist. Prearm. After making a note of it in my notebook, we kept going. Five others ‘companies’ were listed. As well as any individuals’ names. To me, selling firearms to one person was definitely a red flag.
Now that we were finished, I gathered my evidence and sent a text to Cora on my new burner phone. Her number was the only number logged into the phone and even then, I wasn’t stupid enough to give it a contact name.
I have evidence.
After three minutes, the phone dinged.
Good. I’ll be over tonight to look at it if you don’t mind. I’ll pick up dinner on the way if you want.
I figured once this started, we’d be seeing a lot more of each other. Hopefully, this visit wasn’t all business. Quickly, I typed out a response.
And will you be staying over?
Three dots appeared as she wrote her own response.
Would you like me too?
Smirking softly, I replied.
I would. As for dinner, how does Chinese sound?
Perfect. I’ll have to go back to my place first to pack a bag. But I’ll text you once I’ve left.
Normally, if a sub had suggested staying over in the week, I would have turned it down immediately. But Cora was special. Maybe we’d need to rethink our rules for the future.
Taglist: @sweetfictionalworld, @sweetsec-93, @cltex84, @jana-banana-fana, @dark-night-sky-99, @little-laamb, @ellelaconiwrites, @jynzandtonic, @blackredrose27, @neeharlow
#kylo ren#kylo ren angst#kylo ren fic#kylo ren fanfiction#kylo ren smut#kylo ren fluff#kylo ren fanfic#kylo ren au#kylo renxoc#ben solo#ben solo angst#ben solo fanfic#ben solo fic#ben solo smut#ben solo fanfiction#ben solo feels#ben solo fluff#ben solo au#ben soloxoc#star wars#Star Wars fanfic#Star Wars Fic#star wars fanfiction#star wars smut#star wars fluff#star wars feels#star wars angst
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