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forasecondtherewedwon · 11 months ago

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remember it once - chapter five

Fandom: The Artful Dodger Pairing: Jack x Belle Rating: E Chapter: 5 / 7 Word Count: 3002

For today's @dodgerfoxweek prompt: post-series/au

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Jack straightens his waistcoat before they step into the parlour, draws Belle aside and wraps one of her curls around his finger, attempting to put the spring back into it. She watches him, smile patient and amused. He sweeps an arm out, gesturing for her to enter before him.

Fanny bustles over, wearing a smile that reveals far more than Jack and Belle probably do themselves. Before Jack can panic, Belle diverts her sister, linking their arms and leading her to the harp that was, for some reason, transported from Government House for the occasion. God forbid Head Surgeon Dawkins entertain without the presence of at least one stringed instrument. It’s so absurd that Jack almost wishes Fagin were here, though the likelihood of Fagin sitting amongst Belle’s family and Jack’s colleagues for more than five minutes without saying something so dreadfully peculiar that Jack never has another visitor in this house is low in the extreme. Also, he’d be bloody slipping the good teaspoons up his shirtsleeves the whole time. Rangy menace.

Since Belle has utterly abandoned him, Jack makes his quick, anxious peace with the inevitability of polite conversation. Sneed is looking at him, expression far too smugly knowing.

“Lab all in order, Dawkins?”

“Quite. Thank you for your concern.”

I must not punch his mustache in, Jack reminds himself, gritting his teeth as he takes a seat near Belle’s mother and father.

“Yes, yes, join us,” Governor Fox beckons. “Anything you know about these delays, Dawkins?” (The Governor’s gotten familiar with him over the past year. Another ally when the time comes—and it’s coming very soon—for Jack and Belle to openly broach the subject of marriage.)

“What delays are those, sir?”

“All sorts of shipments! Vexatious, I call it! What the devil’s to be done?”

“You might have written to inform me,” Lady Fox says with a smile, her hand laid on her husband’s arm.

“Quite so, my dear. Yes, you’d surely have known best. Except they were quite recent!” Governor Fox recalls, wrenched from his sleepy kowtowing. “Not long before you and Belle returned! Of course, we hardly noticed in the beginning, but now things are in a fair muddle. Men and goods both overdue.”

“We have observed low stock at the hospital. Of course, we are often—” Jack catches himself before he can say undersupplied. Bit awkward to berate the Governor for the conditions of the hospital when he’s hoping to shortly have the same man’s approval for wedding his daughter. Jack clears his throat. “We are often so busy we don’t catch these things straight away. But there have been shortages in some of our medicines lately. Nothing we haven’t been able to compensate for, but it’s hardly ideal.”

Sneed backs him up, nodding along to Jack’s words.

“Well, we simply can’t have this,” Lady Fox decides. Jack summons all the strength in his body to resist rolling his eyes.

“You’re absolutely correct, milady,” Sneed says. Jack shoots his colleague a look, but Sneed has his sycophantic expression directed determinedly at Lady Fox.

“Our hospital must be a beacon, an example of what can be achieved here.”

“And it would be nice to keep people alive,” Jack puts in. Unwisely, as Lady Fox’s darted glare reminds him.

“Should the colony experience a wave of illness,” she continues, “it is imperative that we are able to manage things, not like what Belle and I witnessed in England. From what she told me, the hospital was utterly unprepared to—”

“And the ship,” Belle suddenly chimes in. They turn to regard her. “The man on the ship.”

“What man?” Jack asks.

Most of what his fiancée’s told him of her return voyage was communicated through her letters. Since they’ve been in each other’s company once more, especially alone, there hasn’t been much room given to conversation.

“Yes, well, we needn’t discuss that just now,” Lady Fox says. She shifts, appearing as though more than the new furniture is making her uncomfortable. “It was most distressing.”

Jack ignores her, staring at Belle, who does likewise.

“He was ill,” she says. They’re all listening now, but Belle’s eyes are locked on Jack’s.

“Not scurvy?” he checks. “Seasickness, or—”

“Not that I recognized. His skin had a pallor, which could certainly have been the result of excessive vomiting—”

“As I said!” Lady Fox interrupts. “Perhaps not the most suitable topic of conversation, Belle.”

She doesn’t dare disobey her mother a second time, but Belle’s eyes scan the assembled group—moving from Jack to Sneed to Prof—and he believes he can tell what she’s thinking: We can’t discuss medicine when nearly half the people in this room are doctors?

“Very well,” Belle says brightly. “I believe Fanny has prepared something for us anyway. It is not a second recreation of Leda and the Swan.”

This piece of news provides visible relief to the elder Foxes, though Jack hasn’t a clue what Belle means.

“Why don’t you sit over here, Dr. Dawkins?” she invites, motioning to a seat next to her own. “It will hardly do for you to be so far from the entertainment at your own soirée.”

Jack rises eagerly, protected by Belle’s sound explanation.

“I missed you,” he says under his breath as Fanny takes her seat at the harp, drawing it towards her.

“You are ridiculous,” Belle replies, but she’s smiling. “This is from the opera Norma. My mother and I saw it in London. She was able to procure music from the aria, ‘Casta diva,’ so that Fanny might learn it.” Jack senses her watching him as Fanny feels out the first notes. “She did it at my request. I wanted to hear it again, but with you.”

Jack turns to her, fully, even though the room will see him staring if they care to look.

“Thank you.”

Belle shakes her head.

“You haven’t even heard it yet.”

He crosses one of his legs over the other to hide how he slides his fingers over to entangle them with hers.

—

It feels a little odd speaking to the young patient’s friend rather than one of his parents, but Jack knows he comes from a family of nine. He also knows what it is to be a boy in a gang of boys—the loyalty, the sense of responsibility they can feel for one another. So, while Hetty builds a rapport with Alexander by showing him a selection of the saws they use for amputations, Jack listens to Charlie explain what happened.

“We were playing at the docks,” Charlies says, eyes already wide. “Didn’t notice the fellow right away, ’cause we weren’t doing anything wrong, no reason to be lookin’ over our shoulders.”

“I know, Charlie, I believe you.”

“When he did come up, I thought he was probably drunk.”

“He was staggering?” Jack guesses.

“Yeah, and it was like he wasn’t really focused on us. Except… then he went for Al.”

“Went for him…”

“Went for him,” Charlie insists. “Next thing, Al screamed bloody murder and I walloped the man with my crutch.”

Even in recounting these perilous events, a shaky look of pride crosses Charlie’s face. It sounds to Jack as though the boy certainly earned it.

“You did very well,” Jack praises. “Did the man injure Al, do you know?”

“I think so, but Al wouldn’t let me see. Only brought him to you today ’cause he seemed confused or something. Is he ill, do you think?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Jack offers the boy a sympathetic smile. “We’ll take a look.”

Charlie tags along as Jack goes over to examine Alexander. They have the ward mostly to themselves today, and the other boy seems relatively at ease. Upon first inspection, Jack thinks Charlie may be right—Al does look ill. His skin appears waxy and pale, and even the biggest bone saw draws only a dull smile from him.

“Right, Al,” Jack says, standing at the boy’s bedside. “How are you feeling?”

Alexander shrugs, scratches absently at his arm.

“Have you been getting enough to eat?”

“We have our ways,” Charlie says smugly. Jack catches his eye and they exchange the sly, silent understanding of thieves. Still, he’ll see the pair of them get some oranges while they’re here.

“And sleeping? Have you been getting your sleep, Al?” Hetty inquires.

Al nods, then shakes his head, then appears indecisive.

“Think so,” he finally settles on.

“Charlie’s been telling me about this man at the docks,” Jack begins. “Did he seem unwell to you, Al? Do you think he got close enough that he might’ve made you ill?”

Al looks away and scratches at his arm again. Jack follows the action with his eyes, then crouches.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks quietly. “I won’t think you any less brave, I swear.”

Al lifts his gaze to look at Jack.

“Bit me clean through my shirt.”

“Bit you?” Jack repeats, but Al’s already rolling up his sleeve. When he winces, Hetty jumps forward to help, tenderly folding the cloth back and back until the ugly wound is exposed.

“Blimey,” Charlie observes. “You can patch that though, can’t you, Jack?”

Jack swallows and pretends he’s concentrating too hard to hear the question. It spares him from having to admit he’s never seen an injury like this in his life.

—

“Necrosis,” Belle says later—she, Hetty, and Jack gathered in the empty operating theatre. “The death of what should be healthy cells in a living body.”

“We saw the decay,” Hetty assures her. “The discolouration. The… odour.”

“And the child was bitten?”

“Yes.”

“Might his condition have resulted from the violence of the injury alone? Are you certain there was a transmission of disease?”

“Right now,” Hetty says with a sigh, “we only have the account Charlie’s given us. We alerted the infantry. They’re searching for the man. Jack requested that we be allowed to examine him when he’s found, question him about his symptoms.”

“Prod him with sharp objects,” Jack adds bitterly.

Hetty glares at him.

“He bit a child!” he defends.

“Do. No. Harm,” she reminds him in a measured voice, then looks back to Belle and shrugs. “Essentially, we’ll diagnose the disease, if we can.”

“You’re welcome to attend, if you’d like,” Jack tells Belle. She gives a short nod.

“I don’t know about the disease, but necrosis is currently being studied in Europe. I brought this latest Lancet back with me from England,” Belle says, thumping the volume onto the operating table. “How have you treated it?”

“Carbolic acid,” Hetty says, “and then…”

“And then I cut away the decayed flesh,” Jack says, hands on his hips. “Ghastly. I’ve kept him in the ward. The last thing Al needs is an infection—or more infection, if that’s what’s caused this. Charlie’s been up and down Port Victory bragging about how I saved his leg, so he’s already promised Al he won’t be getting his arm chopped.”

“Premature,” Belle notes.

“He was only trying to put him at ease,” Hetty argues.

“It should work,” Jack says. He rubs at his chin. “I’m more troubled by the thought of that man passing whatever he has on to more people.”

“Particularly by biting children.”

“Exactly, Hetty.”

He waits while Hetty pores over the Lancet. Glancing at Belle, he realizes she’s unusually quiet. Rather than discussing the medical literature with Hetty, Belle stands apart, seeming preoccupied. Jack approaches his fiancée as Hetty flips the page.

“What is it?” he wonders, studying her.

Belle stares back at him. She opens her mouth, then closes it in a pout. He doesn’t know what she just stopped herself from saying, but it can’t be any worse than what she does say, which is: “I told my parents you’d be joining us at dinner.”

—

They look at each other, Belle slumped back against the front door of Government House as she regards him. The stars twinkle distantly overhead, spilled sugar in the sky.

“I actually thought it went fairly well,” Jack comments after a long silence. “I remembered to remove my gloves. I used the correct forks. For a few minutes there, I believe your mother almost respected me. Which you would think would’ve been the biggest surprise of the evening.”

“I looked at her and I could tell she’d never really entertained it. Us,” Belle clarifies, though Jack knows perfectly well what she means. “After all this time.” She shakes her head, eyes unfocused. “You’re finally an acceptable acquaintance, but she was determined not to see you as a suitable husband.”

“Your quick thinking certainly gave her the push she needed.”

Belle’s gaze flits to his calmly sarcastic expression.

“I gambled on the unlikelihood of her sending me to India when we’ve only been home a month.”

Jack can’t help it; a laugh bursts from his mouth.

“Your father reached out to shake my hand in congratulations, did you see?”

Belle, doubled over with laughter, nods. He can spot the tears of delight, delirious relief, running from the corners of her eyes. Jack goes to her, folds her into his arms. He smiles against her hair.

“Imagine we really were having a baby.”

“We might be,” she counters.

“We might be,” he allows, eyes wide as he holds her close and looks out into the dark. Something inside him is expanding even larger than the view. “What we’re doing for certain is getting married.”

“You will have a wife. And a salary. And a house.”

“And you will be in it.” Jack turns her in his arms, presses his cheek to hers as she leans back against his chest. “And it will be ours.” He kisses the side of her head and whispers, “Thank you for not sodding off when I told you to.”

“You will have ample opportunity to learn that I do not always listen.”

“As if I haven’t already.”

She shrugs.

“There is always more to know,” she tells him.

This he cannot deny.

After a while, when they no longer need to pretend they can’t hear Belle’s parents bickering inside because the argument stops and no one comes out to tell Jack he can’t marry their daughter after all, Belle calls for the carriage, offering to accompany him home—only as far as the street in front of his house, of course. On the way, Jack decides he’d like to stop in at the hospital to check on Alexander.

“May I come?” Belle asks.

“Wherever I go,” he promises. “So long as you don’t think your parents will worry about me impregnating you in the morgue.”

She makes a face.

“Horrible.”

“On the operating table?”

Belle considers this and decides, “It’s seen far worse.”

As they enter the hospital hand in hand, Jack wishes it weren’t so late, that Fagin were here to tell of their engagement. Since Jack got the house, Fagin’s been a bit dodgy about where he’s living. Jack has a feeling he hasn’t fully vacated the old room, the one he doesn’t believe has been given away yet, since they’ve hired no new senior medical staff. He could be just upstairs. He could be telling stories at the Cat and Bagpipes. He could be making house calls as the German doctor character Jack can’t believe he’s still somehow getting away with.

It doesn’t matter. He’ll tell Fagin eventually, and tonight he has Belle, and they’re walking the halls together, and joking as they pass into his ward, and—

Hetty comes up to them, grave-faced.

“He’s worse,” she reports. “He’s much worse.”

Jack looks past her, towards the corner where two other nurses are moving around a bed. The bed Jack himself settled Alexander into. Unconsciously, he drops Belle’s hand and begins rolling up his sleeves. He can hear Belle asking Hetty questions as he approaches Al’s bed, but notice of anything else in the room is cut violently away from him as Al jerks suddenly sideways in the bed, grabbing a nurse’s arm.

She’s screaming when Jack reaches them: the nurse and the boy, fused where his mouth holds firm to her skin. Jack feels rather than hears himself call for Hetty, the pressure of the yell rising from his chest most noticeable as he grips Al’s jaw, pressing hard, pressing harder, pressing surely much too hard before Al releases her. His eyes are a haze as he swings his head towards Jack instead. Jack shoves the nurse behind him, orders, “Hetty, straps,” forces the boy down with firm hands on his chest and forehead. Even as Al thrashes, Jack is careful not to grab his injured arm. Belle is there, holding Al’s ankles to the bed. Although Jack’s body acts with trained focus, his thoughts scatter. He cleaned that arm himself, precisely delineated and removed the necrosis himself, so why is it that he sees discolouration sprawling from the clean, white lines of Al’s bandage? With how the boy’s been watched, even infection and inflammation were unlikely. This shouldn’t be possible. Alexander is far more ill than Jack imagined, and it’s not only affecting his body.

Hetty secures the straps typically reserved for amputation around the boy and the three of them—Hetty, Jack, and Belle—back away from the bed. After a few moments, Al quiets.

“Hetty…?” Jack starts.

“It just happened,” Hetty pants. “He took a turn. Wouldn’t eat or drink. What fluid he had in him he seemed to be sweating through the sheets. They were just going to move him and change the linens when… well, you saw.”

At the mentioned “they,” Jack glances around for the other night nurses. They’re across the room; he watches as one woman helps the other wash and clean the wound on her arm as she sobs—certainly in shock, and likely in pain. As he’s trying to decide what to do, Jack feels Belle’s hand grip his wrist. He looks at her.

“I think it’s time I told you about the man on our ship.”

#dodgerfoxweek2024 #my writing #The Artful Dodger #Dr. Jack Dawkins #Lady Belle Fox #dodgerfox

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maya-hadler · 1 year ago

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Greetings From The Past || Self Para

“My mom’s here.”

“What?” Jonas replies back in shock, whipping his head from side to side so he can try to catch a glance of Emilia Lang.

It’s the night of her graduation. Not her undergrad degree, which she secured three years ago nearly to the day, but her grad degree. She’s been in school now on and off for over ten years, and it’s about damn time. She’s fucking earned this. This celebration her friends and Jonas have thrown at Hotline is well, well deserved and long overdue. Through the ups and downs, and of course with the help of her partner Jonas and friends, she made it through.

Even after her father’s passing, and the toll grief took on her, Maya still managed to pick herself up, and move forward. Cut to now, nearly four years later, and she’s better off. So then why, oh, why the hell, has she just seen her mother in the crowd of Hotline, staring back at her? And with a look that’s so intense, it causes her heart to slow its pace?

There are many, many questions that arise in Maya’s mind when she first sets eyes on her mother standing still in the weaving crowd. Seriously? Her attendance in general, is laughable, at best. Almost an insult to not only Maya, but her father. For years and years they struggled without her to manage medical expenses and the toll cancer took on her father’s body; and on top of Maya’s schooling, the bills, and debt that came with that. It nearly wrecked both of them mentally, physically, financially…it definitely contributed to the slow deterioration of her father’s health just before he passed away. Even now years later, Maya’s dealing with the consequences of said debt. But still, even with those expenses racking up, Maya manages to continue on and complete her undergraduate and graduate degree in architecture in under nearly four and a half years.

It was a lot of fucking work, and a lot of sleepless nights. A lot of accidentally falling asleep at her desk, and Jonas coming home from work needing to put her to bed. A lot of forgetting to eat, needing Jonas to remind her by quite literally stuffing a bowl of soup in her face. Not that he minded, of course he says he enjoys taking care of her, but Maya never likes to feel like a burden. And then of course, a lot of rants about the current state of architecture that her partner never quite grasps, but bless his heart, he tries his best. He listens at least, and nods at all the right times. But that’s four and a half years of love and support, right there. Jonas saw Maya through her father’s death. Through his funeral, the ceremony, and the years of grief that follow.

Not once has her mother called to check in, not in all this time. Did she show up when dad passed away? Yes, briefly. Maya saw her standing in the back of the room, sunglasses covering her eyes, when she gave a eulogy at her fathers funeral shortly following his death. Emilia left not too long after without a goodbye. Predictable. In fact, she packed up and left when Maya was ten, so as far as Maya’s concerned, she’s a nonissue. A nonexistent one.

So yeah, the first question that arises in Maya’s mind is why?

Why are you here?

What the actual fuck, do you think you’re doing?

Who do you think you are?

Once anger passes through her like a tidal wave hitting a rock, she manages to turn away and grab hold of something, the nearest thing. That thing, just so happens to be her partner of almost four years, Jonas.

“My mom’s here.”

“What?” He looks around a bit frantic-like, eyes scanning the crowd. Jonas is highly aware of the relationship, or lack thereof.

“Where?”

“There,” Maya nods in her mother’s direction, trying not to draw attention to herself. She shifts into Jonas and his personal space, easily ducking to hide in his chest. Even with her slight height, Maya fits perfectly under her partner; so her head bumps into his chin.

His arm slides along her waist, pulling her in closer while the other twists through strands of loose hair from her messy updo. “Hey, look at me, Maya. You don’t have to say anything to her, okay? Not if you don’t want to. You don’t owe her anything.”

Maya blinks, her face blankly staring back at him for a moment while she contemplates. “You’re right, I don’t…”

How does she go about this situation? Talk to her mom, or ignore her? Or option C…kick her out, cause a scene. She’d rather not have to go with option C. Looking past the crowd, and her friends, Maya looks at her mother. Their eyes meet. Fuck. She’s staring right at her. Maya looks away and instead chooses to focus on various members of her little Grid Gang. They dwindled over the years because of life, in general, getting the better of them. But a few remain in Boston; or close by.

Their friends are scattered about; some dancing, others ordering drinks and/or drinking them, and they’re waiting for Javier’s wife, Zara, to go on stage and perform. Over the years, the infamous singer, musician, and part-time DJ grew somewhat of a following in Boston. A lot of people came to see Zara perform, and she’d invited them to have Maya’s graduation party the night of her set at Hotline to see her in action. Seeing how crowded the place is, Maya’s finally getting to see firsthand what all the hype is about.

She’s seen Zara perform a handful of times before; she and Javier are quite close, which means Zara and Maya talk as well. They get along well enough, though they’re definitely not, and probably won’t be, as close as she and Javier are. The rest of the group consists of Riley, Bailey, June, Sal, and Sebastian, who are all off, scattered around Hotline.

Maya smiles as she watches them simply exist, still trying to ignore her mother’s eyes wearing a hole into the side of her head. Hell, if she’s gonna be so intense about it, why not come over and have a conversation, then? Why all the intense staring from afar? What will that accomplish?

Maya’s eye roll. “I’m trying to be the bigger person here, but she's really pissing me off. Like, I just don’t…why the hell did she even come here? Did she seriously follow us from the ceremony to here? I’m- I can’t be bothered with it. Seriously,” Maya finally gets out, hands in the air with her head shaking back and forth.

The answer is no. No to all of it. If she can avoid her mother, she would much rather just go ahead and do that. Right now, though…she’s making it nearly impossible to ignore her. She’s standing near the exit, her back close to a nearby wall, clutching at her handbag. From where Maya stands, Emilia almost looks a little…desperate. Distraught, and uneasy. There’s something Maya sees in her eyes that makes her heart summersault. Emilia parts her lips slightly as if she’s got something to say sitting just at the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill over. It’s not like Maya could hear her from where she’s standing, feet away, anyway. Over the music, and patrons talking.

They stare at each other over the music, which is somehow much quieter than their eyes. She can feel Jonas’ gaze on her, worried. He leans forward to press his lips gently against her cheek, skin grazing skin, raising heat. Jonas lingers there for a moment, pressing endless small kisses into her skin.

“I can tell her to leave,” he offers gently, still eyeing her. “This is your day. You worked really hard for this.”

“I did,” Maya agrees, nodding as she looks up at him. A soft smile presses against her lips as she leans up to capture them with hers. “And it can still be a celebration, I think,” she murmurs when they separate, letting her eyes remain closed for a moment longer.

“I just need to go talk to her. Get it over with; break the seal, or whatever.”

“You sure? You want me to come with you?”

“No, no…or maybe stay a ways back just in case…” Maya bites down on her lower lip, suddenly a little more nervous than she had been moments ago.

Shit. What the hell is she going to say to her? What the hell is her mother going to say to her? Well…‘hi,’ is a good start, she supposes. Giving Jonas’ hand a small squeeze, she takes a deep breath and starts out towards her mother, passing by a couple people she knows in the process. A cordial smile here, a wave there, even a small pat on the back, and hand hold of, ‘congratulations on graduating,’ came from a few. All the while, Emilia Lang stands still as a statue, frozen in place when her daughter finally approaches.

A chill runs down Maya’s spine and she contemplates walking past her mother out the door. No, hold steady. You’ve got this, Maya. You’ve got this, she assures herself, taking a deep breath in and releasing it with her words.

“Hi Emilia. Did you see the ceremony?”

“H-Hi, Maya. How…yes, yes I saw. You look lovely, dear. Beautiful. And I’m- I’m really proud of you. You’ve done so well for yourself, I mean…a masters degree in architecture.”

“Yeah, it’s uh…it’s certainly been a journey,” Maya agrees, her hand tightening on the glass of red wine she’s holding. It takes everything in her to hold back her comments about her mother leaving them almost 20 years ago.

Another deep breath in and out.

“I know it hasn’t been easy, Maya,” she begins, and Maya snorts. That’s putting it lightly…looking around, she becomes highly aware of the space they're in and having the conversation they're having in it…doesn’t add up. Maya gently takes her mother’s hand and begins to lead her outside Hotline.

“Let’s talk out here,” she reasons, as she leads the way. Once they’re outside, she lets go of Emilia’s hand once they’re finally outside, in the fresh air.

Emilia goes on, “I can’t…I simply can’t imagine what you must have been- what you are going through. I…I know I left, but that had nothing to do with your father, or you. Your father was a good person. The best, actually.”

Jesus… “Okay, so then why did you leave?”

Emilia pauses. “Maya…”

“No seriously, why did you leave then?” She goes on, arms folding in front of her chest.

“That’s…it’s a hard question to answer.”

“Well obviously it wasn’t because of dad or I. We’re perfect. We’re better than you, so it has to do with you then, right? You’re the problem?”

Maybe it’s mean or harsh, but Maya thinks Emilia needs to hear it. If not now, then when? When is the best time to tell someone the goddamn honest to God truth? Never any time like the present; and Emilia’s quiet and stunned enough into submission to listen.

“What? You just, ‘couldn’t handle it?’ Couldn’t hack being a mom? Being responsible for someone else? Because I sure as hell know it’s got nothing to do with me. I know it. Years, and years of therapy taught me that, Emilia. Like I may doubt myself at times because I’ve got anxiety, but I know exactly who I am, and what I want. I’m loyal, I’m brave, I’m strong, I’m there for the people I care about. I don’t leave when I’m scared. I don’t bail on people I love because I’m scared. I fight through it because I’m strong. That’s how I know this thing, this rift between us? Has everything to do with you not working out whatever issues you have being there for me. Quite frankly, dad did enough for the both of you. My friends, and my partner, and myself, do that for me now. I’m there for me. That guy back there, the blonde? Jonas? He’s there for me. My friends are there for me. So you really don’t have to show up here now, to be here for me. That’s already covered. And I’m shocked you think you have the right.”

Jesus, that came out in a bit of a word vomit. Maya breathes deeply, and silences herself while she takes a minute to examine her mother. Tears are forming in the woman's eyes and Maya can’t help but feel guilty for that. Is she angry with her mother? Yes, but she doesn’t want to see her cry, either.

“I- I’m…sorry I raised my voice. I’m sorry I sort of just…attacked you,” Maya mutters, eyeing her mother cautiously. Tears won’t take away the fact that this woman abandoned her for over nineteen years. That fact can’t and doesn’t escape her even if she’s apologizing.

“No, no, you…you have every right to be upset. Every right. I left you, I didn’t give an explanation, or say goodbye. This is on me, Maya, and I do know that.”

Maya wants to believe her, and she sort of does. It’s coming off as genuine. She sure as hell hopes it is, because this conversation is all she’s ever wanted, for nineteen years. It’s a long damn time coming. So she should hear her out, right? She wanted a mom for so long, but shut that want off years ago to preserve herself, for protection. Now that it’s right in front of her, an actual possibility, well…it feels like a lot.

“I think that’s why I felt so compelled to come out here and see you. For so, so many years I let the regret and guilt of leaving keep me from trying to develop a relationship with you again. I was scared you wouldn’t accept what I had to say, or the apology I wanted to give. I’m sorry. Truly, Maya, I am. And you don’t have to accept my apology, or invite me into your life. I know I’m not owed that after what I’ve done,” the older woman finishes, wiping tears away with the back of her hand.

Jeez…this went deep. Maya doesn’t know how to respond at first. She hasn’t forgiven her mother, not even when she apologizes can she even consider beginning to forgive her right now, after all this time…it just hurts too much. Quite frankly, she still wishes she hadn’t shown up at all, and left it the way she did. Maybe if this meeting happened before her father died, she’d feel differently. But now…well, her heart’s got walls up. She’s guarded. She isn’t as willing to let others in as she once was, and she’s definitely not as willing to trust in the same way. That scar came from her mother, when she was ten.

It took years, and years to see it before her father passed away, but it took that act for her to finally bring it to the surface. All the trauma surrounding her mother walking out and her absence after came up with the grief she had for her father. The grief she still has. It’s hard. It almost feels like her mother subconsciously feels as though Maya needs her now that her father has passed. She doesn’t. Maya has lived without her before, she can still do it now.

It’s her father she misses. Her father who took care of her throughout her entire childhood; who raised her. Maya clears her throat and looks down. She’s unsure of what to do with her hands, so she uses one to tuck loose hair behind her ear, and the other to fold across her chest when the breeze picks up a little. Both the women shift uncomfortably where they stand. More silence passes before Maya finally speaks up.

“I appreciate you saying that, mom. I really do. But I think…I dunno. I don’t think I can forgive you yet. There’s been so much time that’s passed by now, and I can’t forget the nearly twenty years you weren’t there.” Her mother looks down when Maya says the last bit.

“Dad may have died four years ago now, but it still feels fresh to me. I’m not gonna replace one parent with another, if that’s what you think will happen here-”

“I’m not trying to do that, Maya, never,” Emilia says almost in tandem with her daughter speaking.

“-It won’t. Okay, well, I’m almost 30 now. Just to be clear, I can take care of myself, and have been. But…maybe one day we can try to be friends, or…something. I don’t know what, but we can try. When I’m ready. Just, not right now. I do appreciate the gesture though, I’m, um…glad, you did it. I am. It’s a step forward, at least.” And that’s all she’s willing to give her mother after this extension of an olive branch, twenty years later. Emilia doesn’t deserve it, not by a longshot. But Maya’s father would have liked to see his daughter and ex-wife rekindling their relationship all these years later. He always wanted that for them; he died wanting that.

So for him, and right now at least, only him, she gives her mother the opportunity to make up for lost time. To redeem herself, if that’s even humanly possible. They’ll just have to wait and see, she supposes.

“I can accept that,” Emilia nods, smiling gently towards her daughter. “I’d like for us to be friends, or something. Anything…when you’re ready. Can I…” she hesitates, but then reaches into her back pocket.

“Can we exchange numbers? Your dad used to keep me updated, but I didn’t know…”

“My number’s the same as it always has been. Here,” Maya says, reaching over to take her mother’s phone. She types in her own name, and when it pops up, she clicks on it, and presses the call button. Once it’s connected, she hangs up, and hands the phone back to her mother.

“There, now I have your number too. And I can um…reach out. When I’m ready,” Maya repeats with a nod of her head.

For a moment they both just stand there in silence, looking awkwardly at the ground, and then each other. Well…that’s it then, isn’t it? Maya’s said all she can say. Now it’s time to go back inside to her graduation party; to her celebration with her friends and her partner. This is about her for once.

“Thank you. I’ll um…I’ll see or talk to you later, then?” Again, Emilia hesitates in her movements, but eventually reaches out to hug her daughter. Maya accepts it, awkwardly, not knowing exactly how to fit into her mother’s arms.

It’s so…foreign. She really doesn’t know this person; Emilia’s practically just an acquaintance. After a moment of standing in their stiff awkward embrace, Maya breaks it, and begins to back away slowly towards the club.

“See or talk to you later, Emilia. Nice seeing you,” she says politely as she waves goodbye and turns to walk away. Without realizing it, Maya releases the tension building in her shoulders, dropping them almost instantly when she’s back inside Hotline. Despite being outside in fresh air, it felt almost more suffocating being out there than it did here.

“Oops!” Maya exclaims, nearly running into someone on her way back in. Oh. It’s Jonas. Immediately, her arms wrap around him. “Oh thank fuck,” she breaths into him, closing her eyes. “That was rough.”

“You okay?” Jonas murmurs into her hair, tilting his head so his chin dips just above Maya’s forehead. He kisses that spot gently a few times as his own arms wrap around her. “I was just coming to grab you; Zara’s going on next… that looked a little intense out there at first.”

“Oh she is? Good timing... I’m okay, just…tired. I’m, like, exhausted now, actually. But just mentally exhausted, like I’m still extremely ready for all this,” Maya clarifies quickly. “I’m here for Zara performing okay? Like…I just need to forget about that for a little while and have fun, you know? This is my day. I worked hard for this!" Maya hypes herself up, trying to forget the slight pain of nerves growing in her chest. Seeing her mother is a lot. But it's important to her she's present in the moment for this celebration of her hard work. Her mother would not, and could not take that away from her now.

"We can talk about it later, though, because I want to. For right now though? I wanna just forget about it, about her, and I wanna dance with you.” Maybe her partner can tell something's off about her; especially after all these years of being together, he's gotten good at reading her. But he lets it go, instead choosing to believe her words and follow them through. They'll talk later.

Jonas smiles, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against hers. “I think I can manage that.”

Maya scrunches her nose when she smiles back at him, tapping his nose. “I knew you could.”

With that, she leans forward, catching his lips softly against hers. Even if things weren’t perfect, they’d be okay. Even if the relationship she had with her mother was strained, they could begin to repair that relationship. Even though her father passed away, he’s still present in her life now. All those things are true. All of those things are true. All of those things are true. She reminds herself of this again, and again as she takes Jonas’ hand, leading him towards the dance floor just as Zara takes the stage.

#self paras #paras #me #inspo #muse #mother: Emilia Lang #family #mother #partner: Jonas Hartmann

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blackcurlsgreeneyes · 8 months ago

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Harry startled from staring at where the otter had disappeared to look over as Remus leapt up, his brow furrowing. "Wait--" But they were hastening out of the warded yard, Disapparating as soon as they could. Looking over at Sirius, now on all fours, Harry's shoulders tightened. "Don't draw attention to yourself," he requested, and his godfather huffed at him, staying close.

Everyone stared openly as the Minister arrived with Arthur, and Harry glanced at Taylor when she rose, glaring the man down. He loved how fearless his girlfriend was...but now and then, he was reminded that he could still fear for her, too.

He didn't acknowledge the birthday wishes, but frowned and stood when Scrimgeour stated his business. Instinct made him want to refuse....but curiosity was stronger, and Harry took Taylor's hand reflexively as they followed Ron inside. He did not let go when he wedged onto the couch beside Hermione, Taylor standing by the arm.

The very idea of parting them had Harry opening his mouth as well; but Taylor had it handled. Scrimgeour glanced at Harry, who merely smiled idly. Yeah. She spoke for him, too.

This entire situation was baffling. Harry held his tongue as Scrimgeour explained why he was there, and did not show remorse even as Hermione challenged the obvious abuse of power. His mind swirled, though, wondering what Dumbledore had done....was it part of the bigger plan? Items to help them in the Horcrux hunt?

He refocused when Hermione gave a withering retort, which had Ron laughing with Taylor, and Harry didn't hide his smirk again. Two years ago he'd have proudly said that Hermione was bound for the Minister's own job someday....but right now, he shared her ire. He wanted nothing more than to turn his back on their hypocritical, brown-nosing nonsense.

“So why have you decided to let us have our things now?" he finally asked, returning the older wizard's stare flatly. "Can’t you think of a pretext to keep them?”

“No, it’ll be because the thirty-one days are up,” Hermione said at once. “They can’t keep the objects longer than that unless they can prove they’re dangerous. Right?” “Would you say you were close to Dumbledore, Ronald?” Scrimgeour asked, ignoring Hermione. Ron looked startled. “Me? No—not really.... It was always Harry who...” He trailed off at the sharp stop talking look that Hermione shot at him, but Scrimgeour looked as though he had heard exactly what he'd wanted to. He pounced at once.

“If you were not very close to Dumbledore, how do you account for the fact that he remembered you in his will? He made exceptionally few personal bequests. The vast majority of his possessions—his private library, his magical instruments, and other personal effects—were left to Hogwarts. Why do you think you were singled out?” “I...dunno,” Ron stammered, “I...when I say we weren’t close...I mean, I think he liked me....”

"We've established that we did not know we were left anything, or why we would be," Hermione interrupted testily; Harry knew that in addition to the foundational annoyance over the situation, she did not appreciate being ignored by adults when she was right. "Are you here to give us our overdue possessions, or to interrogate us on our late Headmaster? If the latter, I believe that would require a more legally sound arrangement than a family sitting room."

Harry could have hugged her. She'd have made a good lawyer, were they bound to the Muggle world.

Scrimgeour was scowling. He put his hand inside his cloak and drew out a drawstring pouch, from which he removed a scroll of parchment that he unrolled and read aloud. “‘The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore’... Yes, here we are....’To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.’”

He leaned forward and passed the Deluminator to Ron, who took it and turned it over in his fingers, looking stunned. “That is a valuable object,” said Scrimgeour, watching Ron. “It may even be unique. Certainly it is of Dumbledore’s own design. Why would he have left you an item so rare?”

“Put out lights, I s’pose,” Ron said, nonplussed. “What else could I do with it?” After squinting at Ron for another moment, Scrimgeous turned back to Dumbledore’s will. “‘To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.’” Hermione took the offered book without a word, holding it reverently; a tear splashed onto the embossed symbols as she examined it. “Why do you think Dumbledore left you that book, Miss Granger?” Scrimgeour pressed. “He...he knew I love books,” Hermione said in a thick voice, mopping her eyes with her sleeve. Ron offered her a handkerchief, which she took with a watery smile. “But why that particular book?” “I don’t know. He must have thought I’d enjoy it.” “Did you ever discuss codes, or any means of passing secret messages, with Dumbledore?” “No, I didn’t,” Hermione huffed, now leveling him a cross look. “And if the Ministry still hasn’t found any hidden codes in this book in thirty-one days, I doubt that I will.”

Scrimgeour turned back to the will, seemingly ignoring her emotional state. “‘To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.’” Scrimgeour pulled out the tiny golden ball, and its silver wings fluttered feebly. “Why did Dumbledore leave you this Snitch?” Scrimgeour asked. “No idea,” Harry said, staring at him. “For the reasons you just read out, I suppose...to remind me what you can get if you...persevere and whatever it was.” “You think this is a mere symbolic keepsake, then?” “I suppose so,” Harry sighed. “What else could it be? It's a snitch.” “I’m asking the questions,” Scrimgeour said in a clipped tone, shifting his chair a little closer to the sofa. Dusk fallen outside; the marquee beyond the windows towered ghostly white over the hedge. “I notice that your birthday cake is in the shape of a Snitch. Why is that?” Hermione laughed derisively. “Oh, it can’t be a reference to the fact that Harry’s a great Seeker, that’s way too obvious,” she snapped, her tears drying now. “There must be a secret message from Dumbledore hidden in the icing!”

“I don’t think there’s anything hidden in the icing,” said Scrimgeour, “but a Snitch would be a very good hiding place for a small object. You know why, I’m sure?”

“Because Snitches have flesh memories,” she said.

“Correct. A Snitch is not touched by bare skin before it is released, not even by the maker, who wears gloves. It carries an enchantment by which it can identify the first human to lay hands upon it, in the case of disputed capture. This Snitch”—he held up the little ball— “will remember your touch, Potter. It occurs to me that Dumbledore, who had prodigious magical skill, whatever his other faults, might have enchanted this Snitch so that it will open only for you.” He held it out across the small space between them. “Take it." Harry met the minister’s yellow eyes, feeling a cold rage settle in his stomach that they were being put through this circus. He held out his hand, and Scrimgeour placed the Snitch, slowly and deliberately, into Harry’s palm.

Nothing happened. As Harry’s fingers closed around the Snitch, its tired wings fluttered and were still. Scrimgeour stared at it as if still hoping it might transform in some way, but it did not oblige. “That was dramatic,” Harry finally said coolly, and both Ron and Hermione laughed. “Is that’s all, then, we'll be returning to my birthday--"

"That is not all," Scrimgeour said shortly. "There are two more bequests. I did include Miss Borelli in this meeting for more reasons than just her infamous refusal to leave your side, Mr. Potter."

"She's loyal that way," Harry said, his temper flaring just enough to speak when he likely shouldn't. "It's nice to know some people will actually have your back."

#fidelixcorde #Harry x Taylor #RP: The Sun Will Come Out #dimension jump #year 7

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farfromharry · 2 years ago

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Beth [ 14 ] | Dad!Eddie Munson series

Fourteen, turning nine

Word count - 4138

Warnings - none i dont think, idk

a/n - this part is also 98% written by miss @kaylans-imagines

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

April 1995

April was seen as the month of new beginnings; the month where a majority of the flowers begin to bloom and the smell of pollen permeates the air. Many started off the month by doing their long overdue cleaning, emptying out attics and organizing garages. But you and your extended family welcomed the new month with a celebration. The birth of Beth Munson. It was only fitting that the exuberant, brighter than life, little girl was born the first of the month.

You thought back to the first time you heard about her birthday celebrations. She had turned four years old, ranting excitedly about her time at the zoo and the way she conned Steve into buying her ice cream and her prized stuffed animal. Now she was turning nine, and you could only reel back as you thought about where all the time had gone. Anytime you thought about it, it gave you vertigo. Never would you have imagined you were going to celebrate with her, seven-months pregnant with her baby sister, but fate was nothing if not funny.

The Thirty-first of March was brought to an early end with the young girl practically running to her bedroom at eight in the evening, eager to bring in her day. You and Eddie had only chuckled, tucking her in and placing kisses on her forehead. Beth was usually jittery before big events, unwilling to go to bed. She always wanted to stay up well past her bedtime and watch the clock tick until it was midnight. But this time around was different.

Eddie had been charged with preparations for his baby girl’s birthday; sending out invites to rally up their friends and family and picking the location. You had given your input every so often, filling in the blanks in his plans when he couldn’t, but other than that, it was all Eddie. Watching him try to ensure his daughter had the best ninth birthday he could provide made you cherish the man even more, and it eased your debilitating nerves whenever you thought about his doing the same for the little girl nestled in your stomach.

It didn’t surprise you when Beth climbed into your bed at the dawn of April First, unintentionally waking up her baby sister with her squirming and expeditious words. She had thankfully ceased her habit of jumping on the bed, not wanting to hurt you or your bump in any way. But that didn’t stop her from sitting on her father’s chest, roughly waking him up from his slumber. “Beth, sweet girl, it’s too early.” He groaned, wanting to go back to sleep. The birthday girl didn’t care. She brushed off, persistent in her endeavors.

“But it’s my birthday,” she reminded. She definitely didn’t need to. It wasn’t like either one of you could ever forget such a momentous day. But Eddie wouldn’t be Eddie if he didn’t tease. “Your birthday was last year, sweetheart.” It was a silly joke that he had started when she was old enough to talk and comprehend phrases, and she was older now, able to grasp a better understanding of birthdays and how they worked, but neither daughter nor father cared. They would keep their traditions around for as long as they could.

Beth pouted, turning to you in disbelief. Once his daughter was distracted, his fingers went straight to her ribs, drawings surprised shrieks out of her as he tickled her. She fought against him, wriggling in an attempt to get away from him. Eddie stopped himself, but kept his hold on her, bringing her into a tight hug with a kiss to her temple. “Happy birthday, sweet girl.”

The smile on her face was blinding. You figured now was the perfect time to share with her your excitement for the day. Sitting up–though it was rather difficult with the added weight in your middle–you pressed a kiss to her cheek and ran a hand over her head. “Happy birthday, darling.” She beamed at you and her father, eager to start the day. So much so that once she knew the two of you wouldn’t go back to sleep, she was scampering out of the room and rushing to get ready. She was thrilled to find out just how her father was going to surprise her this birthday.

When the enthusiastic girl was out of the room and replaced by the family pet, Eddie turned to you, one hand immediately going to your ballooning stomach. He looked at you with concern, brown eyes taking in your exhausted frame. As much as you loved the idea of bringing another child into this world, one that would be oh so loved and potentially looked like your husband and daughter, pregnancy was no walk in the park. And he knew that. “You think you’ll be okay for today?” By the time the day came to a close, you would no doubt be exhausted beyond compare, but no way were you going to miss Beth’s birthday. You would push through anything for the girl you had come to consider your own.

“I’ll be fine,” you promised, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “I am not missing that little girl’s birthday for anything. I wanna see the look on her face when she sees the bike we got her.”

“You’re positive?” He asked once more for confirmation. You only stared at him blankly, nodding at him. It was sweet, the way he was worried about you. But it was also bordering on annoying. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure.” You couldn’t stay irked with him, he was so caring. And the sheepish look on his face was more than enough reason to kiss him softly.

Despite not knowing just how you were going to spend her special day, Beth was practically forcing the two of you out the door. She wanted to get to the location quickly. And after a mini argument that occurred between you, Eddie and her about not being able to take the beloved family pet with you, you three were on the road. Beth was practically bouncing in her seat, looking out the window and asking if specific spots were the location of her party, and everytime, Eddie would say no with a laugh.

The birthday girl had given up on asking about an hour into the drive, realizing that if she didn’t anticipate, time would go by much faster. It seemed to work because not even half an hour later, her father was pulling into a parking space. Beth jumped out of the car before she could stop herself, instantly smelling the oceanspray and the slight breeze it brought with it. She couldn’t contain her squeal, looking at her dad with wide eyes. “The beach?”

Eddie nodded, matching her grin. He hated the beach; he always managed to get sunburnt and he despised the feeling of sand, but his daughter had a love for it that he couldn’t explain. So he sucked it up if it meant she got to spend it in one of her places, swimming to her heart’s content. And the absolute glee on her face made it worth it. She grinned at you, speechless and simply dying to get in the water and play in the sand. But she couldn’t, not until she had changed into the bathing suit you had packed for her (Eddie did tell you about his plans; he could barely keep this secret from his daughter.) And not until their family and friends showed up.

The freshly turned nine-year-old was anxious the entire three minutes it took for the familiar maroon BMW to pull up beside Eddie’s van, a smiling Steve driving it. You could see Max’s familiar red hair in the backseat, stuck between the two carseats of the Harrington girls. You briefly wondered where they had sat Dustin, considering they had told you he was going to come in with them. Your question was answered when you saw him pick himself up off the car floor, grumbling to anyone who would listen about his sore ligaments. No one in the family cared.

“Steve! Tully!” Beth exclaimed, rushing over to her pseudo-aunt and uncle and jumping into Steve’s arms. The older man was quick to take her in, pulling her into a tight hug. You knew she would have done the same to her favorite ‘aunt’ had she not been pregnant and helping her daughters out of the car, so, instead, Beth settled for giving her a tight squeeze. Tulip smiled at her, bending down to place a kiss on her head and motioning for her girls–who were holding onto their moms hand–to do the same. It was the sweetest sight; seeing Beth interact with the toddlers she considered cousins. Your heart melted hearing both of them utter a ‘happy birthday, B’ to her in their lipsy toddler talk.

You followed behind them, searching for the perfect wooden table to lay your belongings down. It wasn’t necessarily a beach, you’d come to find out, more like a state park. But you were sure it didn’t matter to Beth; the little girl was happy around in any type of water. While the rest of your friends and family joined you; Eddie, Beth, and Steve all rushed off to the water, the Harrington girls in tow in the arms of Dustin and Max. You were itching to get off your feet, instantly taking a seat on the wooden bench. You felt kind of bad for leaving Tulip to unpack all the bags you had brought, but you knew she would be more than understanding. It wasn’t until she was done that you sparked up a conversation with her. Noticing the way she ran her hand over the small pooch she had.

“You already have a bump?” You couldn’t help but ask, “aren’t you only two months along?”

Tulip sighed, nodding her head. “Yeah, I know. I asked the doctor, she said it was because this is my second pregnancy.” It made sense, you figured, nodding along to her explanation. You’d have to bring it up to Eddie later. For now, you sat content under the shade of a tree, greeting everyone as they joined you, all of them holding gifts for the birthday girl.

Eventually, after everyone had finally arrived and the sun was blaring down on the people playing in the water, you called Beth and Eddie back to you for what you knew to be one of Beth’s favorite birthday traditions. The birthday cake. Eddie had been in charge of the cake, making sure they decorated it to his approval. He had been so nitpicky with it, wanting nothing but the best for his daughter. Of course, with Eddie, things could never be normal. The moment you all had finished singing happy birthday to Beth and she had blown out the candles, Eddie was removing them and cradling the back of her head. You thought the sight was adorable, how tender Eddie was being with his eldest daughter. Until he was pushing her head forward, destroying the work the bakers had so tirelessly perfected for him. You gasped, waiting for Beth to get angry at her father for seemingly destroying the beautiful pastry. But that didn’t come. Instead, she took a handful of cake and rubbed her small hands across her father’s face.

It was moments like these that you were grateful you were prepared for anything. You figured something would happen to it, so, you had stored a cake in the extra cooler you had brought. With a disapproving sigh, biting back a chuckle as the two Munsons threw cake at one another, you pulled out the homemade cake and set the other aside. While you were cutting slices for everyone, your husband had the nerve to ask you for one. “Oh, no, Munson. You are the reason the other cake isn’t good to eat anymore and our daughter’s covered in icing. You can wait.” Tulip laughed from beside him, taunting him with her own hefty slice of the dessert.

Beth, in her youth, ran back to the water as soon as she finished her piece, the older ‘kids’ trailing after her. Eddie was getting old, not having the same amount of energy as they did. He took a seat beside you, hands immediately going to rub your bump. He caught sight of Steve doing the same to his wife, absentmindedly as he fed one of his two daughters (the other being fed by her mother). With a furrowed brow, he called his best friend. “Tulip, why are you so big already? Aren’t you like two months?” You swore you saw Tulip’s eye twitch. You knew that if she wasn’t in the presence of her daughters, she’d strangle the man she called her best friend. Your jaw dropped, instantly kicking his shin.

Steve looked at him, offended for his wife. “Dude!” His exclamation had Eddie shrugging his shoulders, “I didn’t know how to word it!” You could only facepalm, shaking your head at the man you married. Eddie kept digging his grave, attempting to salvage himself and the situation. He only made it worse. “Are you sure you’re not having twins again, Tulip?”

“Shut up, Eddie,” she growled, glaring at him. You were half expecting her to cover her daughters’ ears and curse him out. But that didn’t happen. You figured it was because it was Beth’s birthday that she kept herself from hurting him, and part of you was grateful for that. You did not want to deal with a pain ridden Eddie Munson.

You waited until later in the day to call Beth back to the picnic tables, allowing her to have the time of her life in the water and sand. When she returned back to you, covered in sand and hot from being under the blazing sun, hands interlocked with Halley and Lyra, you couldn’t help but smile. “You ready to open presents, pretty girl?” She nodded vigorously, excited to see just what she had gotten.

Watching the little girl so ardent on the wooden bench, reveling in the way everyone was showering her in love made your chest hurt. It ached for her. You knew she was better off without her birth mother–from the minimal time you spent around her, you could see she didn’t have a single maternal bone in her body–but it made you wonder just how some people could have children and not love them. Those thoughts brought forth your own, unwillingly lamenting over your own less than stellar childhood.

You thought back to your own ninth birthday, watching the clock tick down until there were only five minutes left. You had sighed and blown out the single candle on the cupcake a teacher had given you. It was the naive childlike thinking that had you wishing they would show up, even if it were just for a few minutes–you wouldn’t even have minded if your parents came in drunk. But they didn’t show. Not until two days later, not even so much as uttering a quick ‘happy birthday’. That was the day you stopped hoping for the best from them, knowing they would only give you the worst. You thought it would make you feel better, but you found it only made you sadder.

There were often nights you would lie awake, wondering just why your parents had a child if they weren’t going to care for her and love her the way they should have. Those nights were the worst, they sent you into dangerous territory. You couldn’t think of a time when they were nurturing, when they would cradle you in their arms and protect you from the horrors of the world. You often pondered whether or not they held you as a child or if they simply let you cry yourself dry.

You swore to yourself one night, sitting outside your trailer and wishing on the stars, that if you were to ever have a child, you would love them with every piece of you. You would never let them think they were a burden or that they were alone. They would have your heart and your care. But just because you had made that oath to yourself didn’t mean you have underlying fears of not being able to uphold it. You figured it was the trauma that came with having to be your own parent that had you scared of the possibility of failing; of not being the best mother your daughters could ask for.

You were happy to keep those negative thoughts to yourself, not wanting to damper the happy mood surrounding you all. It was Beth’s birthday–it was definitely not the place to bring up solemn thoughts and petty fears. So, you kept it bottled up, watching as your heart slowly broke itself down. You were overjoyed at the prospect of Beth having more than enough presents for every occasion that called for it, no child should ever have to go wishing they could get even one measly present. Beth showcased each item she received happily, thanking the gifter with a dimpled smile. Especially you when your husband presented her with your gift.

“A bike!” She gasped, forgetting about the other presents on the table. “Thank you, dad. Thank you, mom.” It had been Eddie’s idea, not yours. Her thanking you for something you barely had any part in made you feel bad. It only solidified your thinking; you were a bad mom. You didn’t even know what would make your daughter grin so wide it hurt her cheeks. It had all been Eddie. But you pushed that aside, giving her a kiss on her curls. “You’re welcome, pretty girl.”

After all the gifts had been opened and you collected the trash, Beth had started a game of tag; tagging an unsuspecting Robin and running off before the older woman could process what had happened. Now that everyone was distracted, you found yourself consumed by your thoughts. Your husband none the wiser, cheering his little girl on from beside you. Instead of drowning in your evil sentiments by yourself, you decided to key him in. After all, he was your husband.

“Eddie?” you muttered, eyes focused on the mixed group of younger and older kids– older kids meaning the ones in their early twenties that you couldn’t view any differently– running around the park grounds. They were being chased by Dustin now. The redhead, whom you adored, was following along with the birthday girl, making sure her curly haired friend couldn’t get to her. Your husband noticed where your eyes were, smiling softly at the sight. “D’you think I’ll be a good mom?”

You were slow to turn your head to look at him, scared to admit to the fear that was building in your chest. The same one that made you feel like you were going to explode.

It should have been easy to see his response coming. Obviously he would never let you think those thoughts about yourself. But you were blinded by nerves. “Are you kidding? You’re gonna be the best mom.”

“But what if I'm not?” He didn’t know where this sudden lingering of doubt had appeared from, or if the emotions that accompanied it were due to the overwhelming pregnancy hormones. He planned to get to the bottom of it though.

His hand reached for yours, the one that had been blindly rubbing your swollen stomach as you fell deeper into the dangerous rabbit hole of your thoughts. Eddie wasn’t amazing at giving uplifting speeches, nor did he tend to say the right thing in a situation where someone he cared for was feeling down. But with you it came easy. He just wished he knew what had his sunshine so cloudy. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

You didn’t want to dampen the mood, not at his little girl’s birthday party, but truly you couldn’t help but think back to your own shitty mom. There wasn’t, up until recently, a good motherly figure in your life, so you had no idea how you were supposed to raise a child. With Beth it was different, Eddie had already done the hard part, and he made the big decisions— but this one? This one was just as much your responsibility, if not more. “I don’t know how to properly bring up a child. My mom… was awful. I basically raised myself.”

Despite growing up so close together, only a couple trailers away from each other, as kids you never really spent time together. No one in that park had the greatest parents, and he always assumed he had it a lot worse than some. But he never considered what your experience had been like. He knew they were around, he’d seen them before, but he’d also seen you wait on the steps of the trailer as a little girl (no older than five) to see if they would come home that night. Thinking back to it now, shattered his heart. No child should have to go through that, but that didn’t mean you would be anything like them with your own baby.

Eddie had always admired how you acted with Beth. You were patient, understanding— caring, most importantly. There were things you could do that he would never be able to, like be a rational adult when she cries. Whenever his baby cries to him he’s ready to put up a fight with whatever or whoever is behind the tears, but you, you provide a solution that doesn’t resort to violence. Everything you have done and will do in terms of being a mom to not only Beth, but the daughter you were growing too, is admired by him.

“If you can raise yourself to be this incredible, ‘M sure you’ll do a pretty good job.” His lips were curled into a grin, and that was what told you he was teasing. Actually, he wasn’t, he was semi-serious with what he was saying.

You rolled your eyes. “Eddie, I’m serious. What if I turn out like my mom? What if our kid has to grow up like I did?” you whispered. “I don’t want her to be alone, or scared, or stay up late in freezing temperatures wondering when mommy and daddy are coming home. Not like I had to.”

Never had you opened up so much about what you lived through as a child, and it pained him. You were sunshine, the happiest girl he’d ever seen in Hawkins throughout his entire life. He had always commended the way you went into everything with a smile on your face. Only now was he finding out that might not have even been real. If he had known how much you were suffering as a kid, he would have helped you in a heartbeat– anyway he could. “I- Oh.”

You laughed, dryly. “Yeah. Oh.”

“You won’t be like that, Y/N. This is different.” He sounded so certain of it that it was hard not to believe him. “You have me, Beth and the entire huge family we’ve got to help you out.” You knew any single one of your beloved friends would help you at the drop of a hat. If you called any one of them at random to babysit because things were getting too much, you bet your ass they’d be there in seconds to do it. “There is no doubt in my mind, that you will be the fucking greatest mom ever. Better than mine, and yours, and Steve’s– maybe not Tulip’s. But you’re gonna do so good. And I’m gonna be by your side every step of the way.”

With teary eyes and a muttered ‘I love you’ you accepted the kiss he placed on your lips, a very brief one that still somehow managed to be interrupted by the sound of a gag a short distance away. Eddie pulled back to see his little twin staring right at you both, practically begging him to join in the game that was being played. “Alright well, that’s my cue,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “Thank you for being honest with me, sunshine. But right now, this old man has a game he needs to join in.”

You watched on. Your nerves had only been slightly soothed, but you figured if you were a shitty mom, then at least your newborn would have her father. And he was the best one she could have.

It wasn’t until you were tucking Beth in later that you felt the lingering despair disappear. She looked at you with wide, gorgeous mocha eyes and smiled sleepily at you, thanking you for the birthday party. “I had so much fun. I love you, mommy.”

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

beth taglist - @ches-86 @kiszkawagnerwhore @ssqra @leftcloudparadise @aereth @destielbuckyboy @eddiesaws @whatawildone @husherstan @chickensinrainboots @spencestyles @simonsbluee @naivences @eddiemunsongffff @shreklover123 @stevesred @mcueveryday @spencerstits @ajeff855 @strawberrykittey @little-diva-gurl @deydeyyyhhh @what-a-strange-constellation @psychdelephantt @roguemetalmaster13 @lovesleepybearwriter @cherrypieyourface @sincerelli @lj127 @that-80s-chick @bloodyxheaven @bva14 @1800letmesleep @boomhauer @eddie-the-angel-munson @soft-munson-hargreeves @eddiesviolet @welikeicecream @eddiemunsons-sweetheart @paintmekala @audge-podgeee @s0fia-14 @asthetic9646 @urmomashleyyy @chrissysgf @hazydespair @tvserie-s-world @andreead @ily-jupit3r @certainlynotasimp @spideysbae @taz-devvil @shotoskitten @idontfeelanythinganymor3 @lexi-2004 @ilovereadingfanfics @mlktea13 @jvmisvu @munsons-sweetheart @aureatopia @crabbygabby @pikispixies @lethalbeautiful @angie1djonasgg @phantomxoxo @graywrites20 @thesundrop @yeah-seems-legit @wydmonday @fangirling-4-ever @yaskna @ems-alexandra @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ajdelilah @d4td7ewmachine @eddie-my-love-munson @lovecleastrange @hairringgt0n @matty-blossom @olivialou13 @mcntseee @obsessed-with-f1 @smol-book-nerd @alex—weasley @jessphill400 @dhtomholland @ollyoxenfrees @yamatosworld @homeagain-1 @gabriella-gvf @alphashadows @sav7689 @ariiiloves @vecnaschargingstentacles @munsonlcve @hehesafa @dearelliewrites @sl0opno0ts @lys009 @doodlebob-mp3 @sandrayaret @purple-storm @peachiicheries @haveyoumetme @lubsana @mushy-mushroom04 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @jaannaa @rockstarmunson @skyfall8600 @rockqbvebby @munsonmolls @forgiveliv @dream-alive789 @politephantommenace @lilylilyyyyyy @lydiascottage @heartyhope @etherealdarlin @xbxexcxcxa @pop-rocks-and-skittles @peakyoup-03 @iluvved @parasadic-blog @loreenswriting @gooblerstan @livlaughquinn @miracleboysel @taramaria @alysianc @okiegirl24 @mjmunson93 @espressopatronum454 @baileydjart @un-lilting @gamorxa @ureleesian @scarlettphantom @livasaurasrex @smilingtheodoisa-blog @fanaticalfantacist @joekeeryswife @ch4ot1ccoff1n @daydreamin-lol @lacunaanonymoused @renaroo123 @calamitylass @thaniyaaa_ @thxliaaa @simsteo @dazed-and-confused101 @elamity @wateryblue29 @simpfoegeorge @ahoyitsagus @katieskidmore1 @helpimspiraling @jakeysangel @sunwardsss @eddiesskittle @bittafrylight @dumblreumblr @eddiethesexy @papaya184 @sincerelyklare @lovelyarinii @nina211544 @murnsondock @darklingbrekksov @sanzu-holic

(if theres a strike through it wont allow me to tag you, pls make sure your tags are on!!)

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie #dad!eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic

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mrs-gucci · 4 years ago

Text

Casting Couch {Charlie Barber x Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! I was driving home from work the other day and this idea just suddenly took over my entire thought process. so, naturally, I went ahead and wrote it up :)

warnings (what you see here is what you’ll get!): smut. the enemy of my enemy is my ally (with benefits). p in v sex. protected sex. rough oral sex. cum- swallowing.

(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex.

word count: 3.2k

charlie’s taglist peeps! {charlie currently doesn’t have any taglist peeps} my general taglist peeps! @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy @I-can’t-draw-faces @ahsoka1 @babbushka @safarigirlsp (if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist)

Two Years Ago.

“Y/N...she fucking did it again.” Nicole says as she barges through the door of hers and Charlie’s shared brownstone. “She got the fucking TV gig.”

Charlie’s eyebrows furrow a bit before looking up at his wife with an empathetic expression, setting the notebook and pen he’d been using down on the coffee table.

“Bummer. I really thought you had it in the bag.” He says, elbows on his thighs as he leans forward a bit, folding his hands. “There will be other roles; I wouldn’t worry too much. You win some, you lose some; that’s how it goes in this industry. You’ve taken plenty of roles from her.”

She sighs, nodding. “Yeah, I know, but this one I was excited about. And I really thought I had it, too. It just stung a little extra, you know?”

Her husband nods, patting the seat next to him on the couch. “C’mere, sit with me. We’ll have a glass of wine.”

Nicole gives somewhat of a dreadful grimace, a clear sign she really wasn’t interested. Charlie’s been noticing this for the past few months, her disinterest in being with him as much as she usually was, but he figured it was just her being tired. She’s been doing a lot of odd jobs to make some ends meet lately, so it’s probably a result of that.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a twang of longing sadness in his voice.

She nods. “Yeah, I’m just gonna go lay down for a bit.”

Charlie just nods, picking back up his notebook and pen, continuing to review and add to his notes from the day.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He calls after her. “I love you.”

She only offers him a small smile over her shoulder in return before emerging into their bedroom, closing the door immediately behind her.

Present Day.

It feels strange, holding auditions for a female lead. He hasn’t had to do so in almost a decade; just yet another reminder of how much of his life has changed just in the past year.

The divorce had been painful, stressful, and he was honestly more relieved than anything when it finally came to a close, despite it not really turning out the way he’d hoped for in terms of custody over Henry.

Luckily, he’s dove deeper into his one true love, directing, as a way to cope with the loss of everything he’d worked so hard to build for himself; the marriage, the 'American dream’ family and home he wished he’d had growing up.

Now, after six months of weekly therapy appointments and keeping himself busy with work, he’s feeling more like the old Charlie he was back before everything went to shit. Actually, he’s feeling like an even better version of that Charlie, the best version of himself there’s been in a while, perhaps even before he met and married Nicole.

The first audition comes onstage and Charlie can’t decide what’s worse, her off-pitch singing or her monotonous speaking voice.

God, this was going to be a long fucking day.

You’d heard through the grapevine that the famed Broadway director had moved here to LA, and that he’d divorced his witch of a wife, Nicole.

Nicole Barber had been your biggest rival ever since you swiped that first movie role away from her. She hates you, and you don’t particularly like her, either, thus your rivalry began. And it was pretty heated, too; the two of you were always trying to one-up each other.

It really was a back-and-forth battle, her swiping roles from you, you returning the favor; it was a game, to put it simply. Although lately, you’ve been getting more roles than she has, not that you’re complaining, and there’s a part of you that hopes she quits the business for good.

Word got around that Charlie is heading his first LA Broadway production and what better way to hit Nicole close to home than to show up at her ex-husband’s auditions? Even better, what if you got the female lead in her ex-husband’s production? Oh god, that would be fantastic, not only for the rivalry but also for your career.

You’ve been looking to branch out into more theater roles, and this is as good an opportunity as to dip your toe in the theater world water. Plus, you’re not necessarily complaining about having the chance to look at and work with Charlie Barber every day...

So you prepared your piece of dialogue and a section of one of the choice songs, heading over to the theater fifteen minutes before your set audition time. Your knee bounces as you sit in the waiting area, eyes running over your script and lyrics sheet one final time, solidifying it all in your memory.

Your name is called a few minutes later and you head out onto the stage, handing over your headshot and qualifications resume. The agent hands over your profile to the handsome director, but he doesn’t even really look at it, already knowing exactly who you are. A small smirk grazes his lips as he flips to a new page of his notebook, clicking the top of his pen.

“Whenever you’re ready, Miss Y/N.”

After you’re finished, Charlie scribbles one final thing in his notebook before looking up at you. His eyes trail over your figure for a moment, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Would you be comfortable coming back for a more intimate audition later this week? Maybe, Friday at four? I would like to get to know you better, see if you meet all of my... qualifications.”

The look in his eye tells you all you need to know about the true motivations behind his question. You nod, biting your lip.

“It’d be my absolute pleasure, Mr. Barber.” You purr.

He shifts in his seat suddenly and quickly crosses one leg over the other before opening up your folder, handing the top sheet to his assistant.

“Diane, go ahead and have Miss Y/N put down all of her contact information.” His gaze never leave you as he speaks to the timid-seeming young woman. “Make sure she gives her personal cell number.”

You pull a pen from your bag on the stage, clicking it open before Diane hands you the paper. As you write every means of contact you can think of, starting with your cell number, you playfully bite the end of the pen and tap it against your bottom lip, something that certainly keeps the already attentive director’s full attention.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mr. Barber.” Your tone is innocent-sounding, but your gaze is anything but. It sends a chill down Charlie’s spine. “I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t.” A small tug at one corner of his lip accompanies his response. “See you soon, Miss Y/N.”

You offer him a nod.

“Looking forward to it.”

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

In preparation for your upcoming...meeting with Charlie, you take a quick trip to the nearest intimates store, picking up a pretty little lace bra and panty set. Your lingerie wardrobe is long overdue for a bit of sprucing up, anyway.

When the time comes, you slip the fresh lace garments on before putting on your planned outfit, a cute-but-subtly-sexy low cut romper. You put on a light face of makeup, purely for professionalism’s sake, then head out with a small bag which contains various personal items as well as your script and composition page.

He’s not in his backstage office when you arrive, but he comes in a couple minutes later, a strong stench of cigarette smoke trailing behind him as he walks by your chair.

“I apologize for the delay. You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

You shake your head as he takes a seat behind the ratty oak desk, shifting a few small stacks of papers around on the heavily scratched surface.

“No, no I wasn’t waiting long.”

He nods, then folds his hands atop the desk, eyes flickering up to meet yours. For a moment, his eyes dart down to where your cleavage creeps out of your low-cut top.

“You’ve got the part.” Charlie says with a small smile. “You’re by far the best and most qualified audition we had yesterday, and I like the way you carry yourself. You’re exactly the type of person I like working with. Part’s yours if you want it.”

You’re overcome with joy, a wide smile spreading itself across your lips. “I’d love to be a part of this production, Mr. Barber. I’m really excited to get to work with you and the rest of the crew.”

“That’s great, I’m glad to hear it.” He nods, smile widening when as he processes your acceptance. His delighted expression falls after a few moments, replaced by one much more salacious.

“Now that we’ve gotten that part out of the way...I think you know why I called a meeting of such, uh, privacy.”

You smirk softly, shifting around in your seat slightly. “I believe I do.”

His feet plant on the ground as he pushes the rolling office chair out from under the desk, standing up and walking around the desk to tower over you.

“Before anything happens, though, I want you to know that whether or not you do this with me will not affect my casting decision. Even if you decline, you still have the part.”

You nod before standing, quickly and swiftly, stepping forward to press yourself flush against him.

“Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

Your hands rest on his chest, neck craning slightly to look up at him. “Just kiss me, will you?”

He laughs, massive hand moving to cradle the back of your head before he bends down and connects your lips in a passionate kiss. There’s nothing tender or gentle about this embrace, it’s all tongue and teeth, raw lust coursing between your two bodies.

“Couch.” His voice is soft but husky.

“Unzip me first?” You ask, turning around so he can unzip you. He does, then his hands slide down to your hips and pushes you towards the leather couch tucked in the corner of his office.

The material squeaks when you’re laid down on top of it, head resting comfortably on the cushy fabric accent pillow as he climbs on top of you. He presses his hips forward while he tucks his face into the crook of your neck and plants kisses on the skin there.

Your eyes widen as his impressive bulge rubs up against your inner thigh and you quickly wonder how in the world you’ll be able to take him. His crooked teeth scrape over the taut muscles in your neck while his hands pull the backs of your romper down over your shoulders.

His hands grab and grope your breasts beneath where they rest in your nice bra, one you wore just for him, and your back arches slightly up off the cushions with a soft sigh.

A small smile crosses his expression, teeth sinking gently into your neck. “I like the little noises you make for me, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You smirk, running your hands through his hair. “Then I bet you’ll like my moans, too. If you think you can draw them out of me, that is.”

He laughs softly, sucking and licking at at the place his teeth have just abused. “Is that a challenge?”

“Well, it’s more like an invitation to prove yourself, but ‘challenge’ is also a good word for it.”

Charlie pulls away with a smirk, shaking his head as he sits back on his haunches and begins to unbuckle his belt.

“Brat.”

Once he’s undone his pants and pulled them down enough to expose himself to you, he leans down once more and pulls your romper the rest of the way off, leaving you completely bare, minus your undergarments. His eyes roam your figure for a moment before he dips a hand beneath the patch of black fabric nestled between your thighs.

Your breath hitches as his fingertips swipe over your erect clit, giving it a few little circles before yanking the panties off your hips and down your ankles, tossing them down alongside your previously-discarded romper.

His eyes widen in realization, cheeks flushing pink.

“Do you have any, um, protection?”

You smirk, nodding as you sit up and pat his chest. “Indeed, I do.”

He crawls off of you and you walk over to your purse, grabbing a condom from the mini-stash you keep in your wallet, the one you replenished just minutes before you left the house this afternoon. He takes it from you and pinches the tip, rolling it down his shaft. For a moment, you’re worried that it isn’t going to fit, but he rolls it on with little issue.

His hips press forward, then, entering you slowly but steadily with a soft grunt. You whine as your insides stretch out around him, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. “S-Shit.”

“You’re really fucking tight, jesus.” He growls between gritted teeth, jaw screwed shut as his hips begin to move. “I haven’t fffucked anyone in a while, Y/N, so I can’t guarantee that I’ll last very long.”

You nod, softly. “It’s alright, Charlie; it’s been a little while for muh--me, too.”

Your eyes flutter shut and your face begins to scrunch up with each time his fat cockhead brushes up against your cervix. His pace increases after a minute or so, a consistent slap-slap-slap noise now echoing off the drywall with each snap of his hips.

“You’ve got a nice little pussy, you know that? Always knew you would be, too, knew you’d be a good little cccocksleeve.”

You moan shakily as he adjusts his position, towering over you and pinning your wrists above your head with one of his large hands. Your body begins to bounce, tits, thighs and tummy jiggling each time he thrusts in.

He’s starting to sweat, a few dark hairs sticking to his dimly-glowing forehead, more and more accumulating there as his hair rocks back and forth in time with the rhythm of his hips.

“Touch yourself, now, rrrub your little clit.” His voice is getting shaky as he draws nearer to climax.

Nodding, your hand slides down between your joined bodies until your fingertips settle onto the small bundle of nerves. The hand that’s still weaved in Charlie’s locks clenches and he lets out a sudden deep growl, hips stuttering for a moment.

“Ooooh, Charlie.” You moan, hips lifting and gyrating against both his cock and your fingers.

“God, fffuck I love this cunt.” A vulgar squelching sound knits itself within the quilt of your salacious symphony. “Wrapped around my cock like a vice, gonna pull the fucking cum right out of it. Swear you get tighter each time I push back in...christ, I’m not gonna last.”

Your fingers circle your clit faster, setting a desperate pace, one that almost matches his quick and sloppy thrusts. You’re close now, too, and it doesn’t take much longer for your orgasm to hit.

You cream around him with a long moan and a string of various other noises, with a few profanities thrown in as well. The product of your release coats his shaft in a pearlescent sheen, dripping down his ball-sack soon enough.

The sensations your climax creates around Charlie forces him to pull away almost immediately after, quickly yanking the condom off and onto his office floor, squeezing the base of his flaming red length.

His hand seizes your jaw tightly, thumb pressing down on your tongue, prying your mouth open. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth and shove my cum down your throat, and you’re gonna take it all, isn’t that right?”

You’re nodding instantly, slacking your jaw to open even further in preparation for his upcoming intrusion. He smirks.

“Good. Now, on your knees.”

He sits down where you once laid, lazily pumping his throbbing length as you get into position between his spread legs. He pulls your hair up into a makeshift ponytail with his hand, then lines you up with his cock and eases your mouth down onto him.

“Thaaaaaat’s it, oh, gooooood girl.”

You start gagging about three quarters of the way down his shaft, but he still keeps pushing until you’ve got the whole thing in your mouth. Your jaw’s already getting sore as he begins thrusting upwards, fucking your mouth.

Tears swell in your eyes and begin to spill down your cheeks the more he goes, mascara surely ruined and running down your face. The sight only arouses him further, a low groan rumbling through his puffed chest.

He’s trying so hard to keep himself together, to stave off his orgasm for as long as he can manage, but soon he finds it next to impossible to hold back. His bottom lip quivers ever so slightly as his length begins to twitch, balls drawing up.

“Fuck, I’m gonna--”

You taste and feel the salty ropes shooting down your throat before he can even finish his warning.

“Ah, fffuuuuck.” His head falls back against the couch cushions, hips bucking gently as each bit of release is spilled into your mouth. His grip on your head relaxes after he’s finished, cock softening while he catches his breath and re-grounds himself in reality.

Your chest heaves as full airflow returns to your lungs, knees and jaw aching a bit sore from their exertion. You grab your underwear from where they lay discarded on top of your romper, putting them back on before standing up on somewhat shaky legs.

Charlie also redresses, standing and straightening himself out as you do the same.

“Mind zipping me back up?” You ask, turning around again.

He pulls the zipper up your back until it’s at the end of its tracks, then steps up behind you, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

“Thank you.”

A soft smile grazes your lips. “No ‘thanks’ needed; the sweet taste of revenge and spite is payment enough.”

He laughs quietly.

“Well, I’ll certainly be available, should you ever need a little replenishing of those feelings.”

“Mr. Barber, you wouldn’t be saying that because you’d like to see me naked again, now would you?” Your eyebrows raise and you look over your shoulder, a playful smile on your face.

He laughs again, blushing a bit. “Uh, yeah, sure, I'd like that a lot. But I’d also like to see you, um...not naked, fully clothed, maybe at a restaurant in the city for dinner sometime? I totally get it if you’re not interested, it’s not a big deal if you don’t want to...”

Holy shit, he’s asking you out on a date. Well, he’s trying to, at least.

You laugh, cheeks warming at his proposition.

“Sure thing. I just accepted this new job, though, so I’ll have to get back to you about my availability...”

Charlie smiles, shoving his hands down in his khaki pockets. “I’m sure your new boss would be more than willing to accommodate. He’s a pretty cool guy, or so I’ve heard. Handsome, too.”

“Oh yeah? Sounds like you have a reliable informant.” You turn around as you laugh softly, grabbing your bag off the chair before stepping up in front of him. Your lips plant a quick peck on his, hands resting on his broad chest. “See you soon.”

He nods, biting his lip to hold back his big, goofy smile.

“Can’t wait.”

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negasonicimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Revelation; Part One

warnings/kinks: a/b/o (if you’re penis-repulsed this isn’t for you), smut (duh), brief daddy kink, even briefer mommy kink, cum-eating, cum-marking, cockwarming? (does it count if it’s a/b/o?), light bloodplay, borderline somniphilia (consensual), poisoning, suicidal ideation, allusions to cheating, mentions of conversion therapy, vague mentions of s*xual ass*ult (it doesn’t actually happen in the story, it’s just referred to a lot due to the nature of this universe)

uh… this is another one of those stories that’s just kinda Heavy, please be careful & don’t continue reading if doing so is unsafe for you. I have a variety of other works that don’t have such intense themes, which you can find on my masterlist!

request (+details): Omegaverse: Alphas Yukio and Ellie with a beta reader, but it turns out that reader is a late-bloomer omega who goes into her first heat unexpectedly. / Omegaverse: The setting could be anywhere. The three of them waking up with reader burning hot, believing to be sick but is actually going into heat. The reader could be by themselves when it happens and her alphas come home to a omega in heat / I can’t get this omegaverse idea out of my head, and I hope you don’t mind me telling you this. Reader being alone and confused when her heat came, her alphas gone on a mission. During the time they were gone, Reader made a nest of her alphas’s clothes out of instinct on their bed. By the time Yukio and Ellie returned, Reader is a hot mess from trying to get off, moaning their names and begging for her alphas to help her for she don’t know why she feels like this and is scared.)

synopsis: After Wade discovers you're dealing with suicidal thoughts, he takes it upon himself to help you out, leading to one disaster after another.

author’s note: thank you so much to the lovely anon who requested this for spending so much time with me & making sure everything was juuuust right! Fun fact: we pined, started dating, and broke up, started dating again, and broke up again all before this was published 🙃 sorry everybody, it’s been a rocky road for the past… forever.

Standing guard after school for a few extra bucks is a pretty sweet deal, you have to admit. You mostly just sit around with a pair of binoculars munching on your snack of choice, using a gun loaded with tranquilizer darts to drop anyone who threatens the safety of the school and its residents. If given permission, or an order to do so, you can use your bow and arrow to really take down your enemies.

You’re pretty lucky in life overall, you also have to admit, with two alpha girlfriends and a variety of friends and acquaintances, not to mention the advantages your mutation gives you.

It makes you feel even more guilty for what you’re really thinking about right now. Not Ellie, not Yukio, not keeping an eye out for threats, nothing but a simple question:

Would it be more efficient to slit your wrists with the point of one of your arrows, or to fling yourself from the top of this turret? Which would hurt worse? You look from the sharp arrow you hold in your hand to the plush grass below, managed by some of the other students.

It’s far cheaper to pay students to maintain the yard and house, not to mention it gives students like you a way of earning the kind of spending money that other students receive from their parents or from jobs in town. Your post would be snatched up in no time if you were to pass.

Speaking of parents.

Your father’s exact words to your mother were “I hate that you use a highschool mistake to keep me trapped with you forever!” the last time you happened to hear them argue. They were no longer invited to parent-teacher conferences after that.

It’s a fine reason for him to be angry, but, unfortunately, you’re the highschool mistake he was talking about. The one he’s always talking about whenever they fight. Maybe if you were gone, he’d finally be free. Maybe you’d finally be free from his resentment. He, fortunately enough, rarely lashes out at you directly; however… There’s always been a distance.

Would he love you more if you were gone? If you saved him from… Well, you? You’ve always wanted him to love you, to look at you with something other than anger or resentment. Would he finally be proud of you, for owning up to every horrible thing you are and have done by paying the ultimate price? Would everyone?

You’re holding the bladed tip of the arrow right against your wrist, almost like a normal person might hold a bracelet to their wrist -- trying it on for size, without really thinking about it.

Suddenly, though, Wade’s here. And he’s definitely thinking about it. He yanks the arrow out of your hand, accidentally snapping the wood that makes up its length.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I- Uh, I don’t know,” you mumble, embarrassed, because you honestly don’t. Being alone with your thoughts gives them the space to grow from their poisoned roots into something dark you don’t really recognize as yours.

“You- You don’t know?!” Wade questions, and the unusual severity of his tone stuns you to the point of laughter. “This isn’t fucking funny, what the hell is wrong with you? Why were you-?! What were you-?! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m standing guard. What the fuck are you doing?” you echo dryly, resorting to quips to avoid telling him any more than he already knows.

“I’m freaking out! I can’t kill you for apparently wanting to kill you, so that’s all I can do! I thought you were on antidepressants!”

“I am. Have been for years. They don’t cure depression, they make it easier to manage.”

“Apparently fucking not! Come on, let’s go talk to somebody and get you an appointment with a psychiatrist. You’ve been on the same prescription all these years, right? Maybe you just need your dosage upped.” Wade’s not asking, he’s telling, his hand wrapped around your bicep to pull you along, although his grip isn’t as tight as you’d expect for a man of his stature, let alone an alpha.

Why does he care so much? He’s always so gentle, even when you piss him off like this. Tears well up in your eyes but you blink hard. You know he’s been through worse. That most people here have. You have no right to cry.

Wade yells at a surprised Charles Xavier until an appointment is set up, which goes pretty well. Four days after that incident, you meet with the psychiatrist who agrees that upping your dosage is the smartest decision, frankly, she’s surprised it wasn’t done sooner. And, after about a week of your new dosage level, you’re feeling better than ever.

Way better.

“You… You’d really wanna do that? For everyone to know I’m yours?”

Ellie nods, cheeks darkened. You’re straddling her, and the two of you have been trading heated kisses with Yukio. Who would’ve thought more of the medication you were sure killed your libido before you could even develop one would be what rescued it?

“Of course we would. I know you don’t like to stereotype, but some of the stereotypes have truth to them. We’re… Territorial,” Yukio reminds you.

“I’m… A beta,” you remind her in a teasing echo of her tone.

“Our beta,” Ellie cuts back in. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Even if I’d rather not let you guys, y’know…” Your hand rubs at the space between your neck and your shoulder - where they’d likely mark you with their teeth - nervously. “...today? Or go farther than what we’re doing right now?”

“Of course, baby! The fact that you’ve even done this much…” Yukio trails off, looking over you. Your lips are swollen and still slightly parted as you continue to pant a little. The top few buttons of your (well, borrowed from Ellie) flannel are undone.

“We’re so grateful, and so proud of you,” Ellie continues, drawing your attention back to her. “We’re willing to wait as long as you need, even if that waiting only ends because you’ve decided that being with us like that isn’t something you want.”

“I do. I always have, I just… I don’t know.”

“The feeling’s still there, in your stomach, right?” Yukio wonders.

“Yeah, a little. It’s like… I know it’s not wrong, but something doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe I should just try to ignore it, I mean, you two have needs-”

“Hey. You know better than that, Y/N. We don’t, okay, babe? Not like that. We wanna have sex with you, not- Not hurt you. You understand that, right?” Ellie reassures you.

“I do, I just feel bad for being such a- I don’t know, a tease?”

“We love you. As in, you. If you forced yourself to do something you didn’t want to, just for us, how would we forgive ourselves?” Yukio says what she’s said a million times, but every time it surprises you. You tend to see yourself as only being valuable in what you can offer others— protection, a laugh, some good advice every now and then —you never expect anyone to care for you outside of that. But here they are. Absolutely perfect.

And you were thinking of flinging yourself off a tower a couple weeks ago. Should you tell them? They just think you went for an overdue checkup, which is technically the case. You don’t know what’s worse, hiding it or telling them. You’ll have to talk to Wade, he’s good at giving advice. Might not be good advice, but he’s definitely good at giving it.

“Everything okay, sharpshooter?” Ellie hands gently squeeze your hips to get your attention.

You blink back out of your thoughts, smiling a little and blushing at the nickname.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry, I just zoned out. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Everything okay?” your alphas ask, again, in unison. Your alphas. They probably couldn’t handle it if you had a problem they couldn’t solve, the guilt of not being able to provide for you would overwhelm them.

“Yeah, totally,” you reply, because it is, now, especially here with them. Ellie starts to button up your flannel.

“Oh, we don’t have to-”

Ellie gives you a pointed look, then looks down at her crotch, then back up at you. Your blush deepens.

“Yeah, I’m guessing a cold shower’s in order,” Yukio agrees. “El, you can go first.”

“We can’t go together?” Ellie asks.

“Well, I don’t wanna leave Y/N alone. Our brave little beta did a lot more than usual. Don’t want you to feel used, baby,” Yukio explains to you both.

“Oh, duh,” Ellie agrees. You give her a quick smooch on the forehead before dismounting her and allowing yourself to be pulled into Yukio’s arms. Ellie grabs some clean clothes and heads off. As soon as the door shuts, Yukio giggles, and you look to her with a curious, confused expression.

“Now you’re all mine to cuddle.” Yukio gloats, kissing the top of your head. “Mm… You smell really good, babe. New shampoo?”

“Ish, yeah,” you agree, despite the fact that you started using it nearly a month ago at this point. Maybe the body heat you built up from the makeout session made it smell stronger, though.

Yukio keeps sniffing you, but you don’t call her out on it. She’s a little bit quirky, sure, but there’s no need to make her feel self-conscious about it when the tickling sensation feels kinda nice. She tosses in a few soft presses of her lips against your skin, too, so it’s not like she’s the only one who benefits.

Yukio eventually stops this, though, instead requesting to scent you. You’ve told the girls before that they don’t have to ask, but they— especially Yukio —seem to prefer to. You figure it’s likely to reassure them that you not only tolerate but appreciate their alphahood.

“I love you, you know that? Not just ‘cause you make me smell like petrichor. I’m surprised Ellie doesn’t spend all day huffing your scent, I… I know I would, if I could smell it.” You didn’t mean for the sad envy to ring so clearly in your words, but it’s as sharp as a knife, cutting deep enough to make Yukio gasp softly with sympathy as she rubs your wrist against her scent gland, eyes snapping open.

“Well, next time it’s about to rain, we’ll go outside, then. Every time it’s about to rain,” Yukio insists. “Who- Who told you?”

“Wade. I was just curious. He said Ellie smells like a campfire, the scent even clings like it. He even said I smell a little weird. Most betas smell like something, but I’m just… A blank canvas.”

You feel her rumble a bit with a growl, and her arms wrap tightly around you… Protectively? You blush.

“Y-Yukio?” you nervously ask, caught off guard. Ellie’s usually more of the growling type. Yukio’s pretty good about keeping her possessiveness and any other “negative” alpha traits in check. This side of her doesn’t come out often.

“What was he doing that close to you?” she snarls protectively, and if the growl wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, that was. “Sm- Smelling you?”

“Yukes, Wade’s the same age as my parents. Honestly, he’s- He’s kinda- He’s nice to me. We’re friends. I think if he was going to hurt me, he would’ve done it by now. You two keep forgetting I’m just a beta. No one wants a piece of this pie except for you and Ellie.”

“You’d be surprised at the way some alphas… It’s sick, but they- Because betas, you know, they don’t really produce slick like omegas do, and they don’t have quite as much give, uh… So, some alphas, um, they… Just let me hold you, okay?” Yukio requests. “I can’t talk about it, it’ll make me too mad.”

“I respect that. Thank you. I, uh, I didn’t realize that at all, so thank you for helping me be even safer,” you reassure her. She’s trembling. “Do you want me to hold you, instead?”

“No, no, this will make me feel better. I just… I love you. Can you just…? Just- Just say you’re mine.” This is a request Yukio has semi-often. When she feels weak in comparison to other alphas, when she feels overshadowed by Ellie, any time she needs reassurance or is just feeling bad, she’ll probably ask. You get it, being hers (and Ellie’s, of course) makes you feel better, too.

“I’m yours, Yukio. Always yours. You make me so happy, both of you. Happier than- You make me feel so-“ You get a bit choked up. These girls, these alphas… They’re so important to you.

“Oh, no, baby, please don’t cry,” Yukio implores, watching your eyes water. You turn so that your face doesn’t just rest on her chest but is buried in it.

“It’s just that no one ever loved me before you two. No one, ever. Not my parents, not my ’friends,’ no one. I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional lately, I’m sorry.”

“No one at all?” Yukio questions, but that’s the missing puzzle piece, she realizes. You’re always treating hers and Ellie’s love for you like it’s something you have to earn, no matter how much they insist being yourself is enough. She fully grasps now that it’s never been enough before.

She holds you even tighter.

“Mm-mm,” you confirm, shaking your head a little. “You and Ellie just mean the whole world to me. And- And… Wade’s my friend, too. Can I still, y’know, spend time with him?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I just- He’s a nice guy, but… I don’t want him to put you in danger. You can handle yourself, though. Can’t you, sharpshooter?” Her fingers trickle up your ribs as she says the nickname, making you giggle and squirm.

“Absolutely, but it is nice to have two strong, sexy alphas take care of me instead every now and then,” you admit, albeit a bit teasingly, blushing softly. You turn back so that you can see her adorable face.

“Really?” Yukio asks, but she knows.

“Really,” you agree with a smile.

“I’m yours, too. You know that, right?” Yukio checks, fiddling with your hair a bit.

“Mhm. It’s nice to hear you say it like that, though.”

“I can think of other ways you might like to hear it,” Yukio flirts.

“Yeah, you think so? Show me,” you tease back.

“I will…” Yukio trails off as she trails her finger along your jaw, tipping your head up to the perfect kissing angle and- “Eventually, little beta.”

“I- I’m taller than you,” you weakly protest.

“Your breath still hitched,” Yukio reminds you with a giggle and a gentle tap on the tip of your nose.

You stutter a little more before giving up, burying your face again and whining.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I just can’t help myself. You’re too cute,” Yukio half-heartedly apologizes, still chuckling to herself as she strokes your back.

Ellie returns from her shower, inky tendrils of hair ruffled around but with no product in.

“She’s asleep?” Ellie asks, sounding a bit disappointed, but there’s still a significant amount of fondness in her tone.

“She’s not,” you mumble back, and both girls chuckle, Yukio untangling herself from you. You can’t help but pout a little, already missing the bubblegum-haired alpha.

“I know Yukio’s your favorite, but you could at least act a little bit happy to see me,” Ellie half-jokes, and you smile, pulling (though she doesn’t give any resistance) the girl back into your bed. She holds you the same way Yukio did, but you don’t really mind the lack of variety.

“You’re both my favorite,” you argue. Ellie takes a deep breath, likely taking in the way you’re completely embraced by Yukio’s scent.

“I don’t think that’s how favorites work,” she chuckles.

“Out of all the people in the world, you two are both my favorite,” you insist. She takes the hand you have resting on her ribcage and holds it inches from her scent gland. “Please,” you say, before she can even ask. Ellie takes a whiff again.

“Did she leave anywhere untouched?” She wonders.

“N-not really,” you stutter, because now you’re thinking of where she didn’t touch you.

“Well, she’ll have to share a little, then,” Ellie says.

You hum with delight as she scents you.

“You make a new friend?” Ellie questions.

“Huh?”

“You smell… Different,” she responds, looking at you… Well, differently. “Like roses.”

“I have a new-ish shampoo?” You offer, but that just seems to intensify the look.

Your phone rings. It’s Wade. You wriggle out of Ellie’s loose hold on you, answering.

“Hey, you know how I’m your academic advisor?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well, apparently, thwarting your suicide attempts isn’t my only job. I also have to tell you when they need you in the office, which is now.”

“Seriously?! I didn’t even throw that pencil at Richard, and even if I did, he deserved it for being such a-“

“Oh, right! Should’ve opened with the good news. Your parents are here to visit.”

“What?! That’s-“ You sigh, not wanting to alarm Ellie any more than you already have. “Okay. I’ll be there. Just give me a second to get dressed.”

“Wow, no shame at all. I salute you. Toodles!” Wade hangs up before you realize he misunderstood you.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asks.

“Nothing, just… My parents are here.”

“Your… Parents?”

“Kind of have to have those to exist, usually,” you remark, and she snorts.

“I know- I- Well, we’ve known each other for a while, and you don’t really talk about them, so I sort of assumed…” Ellie trails off.

“Oh, um, yeah, no, they’re very alive,” you confirm with an awkward chuckle.

“Right. I’ll go get ‘Kio, and we’ll all go, okay?”

“Uh- Um- Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“My parents, they kind of… They- I love you. And I’m not ashamed of you.”

“But they’ll be ashamed of you,” Ellie understands.

“I haven’t seen them in so long, they don’t even know that I like girls, let alone that I’m dating two, or that they’re both alphas… I want you and Yukio to come with me, but, if they start to- If they’re how they are, I-“

“Give my energy to helping you instead of hurting them,” Ellie uses Piotr’s words.

“Perfect,” you agree, and Ellie smiles back, but it falters. You didn’t mean to worry her so much.

“I’ll go get Yukio. You get changed, okay?”

“Mhm,” you agree, and she heads off to the bathroom. You steal one of Ellie’s band tees and an oversized cardigan of Yukio’s for comfort, finding a pair of high-waisted bottoms to tuck the tee shirt in. You throw on a pair of sneakers, and when the girls emerge from the bathroom, you pop in to freshen up.

Once you’re done, Yukio’s caught up on the situation and the three of you make your way to the front offices.

Wade meets you outside.

“Oh em gee, Y/N, you’ll never believe it, I actually went to high school with both of your parents.”

“Uh… Cool?” You respond, because you’re not entirely sure how to.

“Yeah, uh, I get now that it’s probably not really good news that they’re here, huh? No wonder I found you doing that the other day.”

“Doing what?” Yukio and Ellie ask, though for some reason, Ellie’s is tinged with suspicion, maybe even anger.

“I- Listen, it’s not a big deal, I got my prescription updated and all that good stuff, okay?” You prime them. “I was thinking about killing myself the other day and Wade caught me.”

“Thinking?! You’re gonna call holding the fucking tip of an arrow to your wrist thinking?!”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ellie sounds as angry as Wade does, but she looks pained. This is why you didn’t tell them.

“Hey, she doesn’t need this right now,” Yukio argues, but she looks hurt, too.

“I mean, I was just considering if it would be more painful than jumping off of the turret,” you mumble, your defense embarrassingly weak.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ellie decides, and Yukio nods. You three follow Wade to Xavier’s office. Wade breezes in, but you’re practically stuck in the doorway, nervous to look at even the backs of their heads, before they turn around.

“Y/N,” your mom says with a grin, but you know all too well how fake that is. She approaches you, pulls you into a hug, and you want nothing more than to push her away and scrub yourself clean. She doesn’t really love you. The second you speak out of turn, or make a mistake, or give her any excuse, she’ll remind you of your worth. (Or, rather, the lack thereof.)

She slips back into her seat next to your father, in front of the desk where Xavier sits, simply observing.

“It’s been so long,” your father says, but his smile is almost blatantly fake. “Your hair, it’s different.”

“Like you said, it’s been a while,” you say, giving a grimace and an awkward chuckle.

“I don’t think I like it,” he says, like he’s giving his opinion on a sculpture in an art exhibit by some long-dead artist who doesn’t care what he thinks. Like it’s something just… Objective.

“Not sure what to do about that,” you reply sheepishly.

You don’t fully realize that you’re holding Ellie’s hand until she squeezes it reassuringly, three times. A secret code. You step further in to make room for the girls.

“So, uh, I have to ask… Why the sudden visit?”

“Well, we got an e-mail about your medicine, and we wanted to come check on you. Make sure this is the right environment for you,” your mother explains.

“You weren’t sure before you stopped talking to me for two years?” You half-joke, playing dumb.

“Has it really been two years?” A normal person would be asking this rhetorically, and they’d be embarrassed. Your mother, though, is simply trying to gaslight you.

“Longer,” you assure her.

“I thought this place was supposed to provide conversion therapy,” your father says, eyeing your hand, then Ellie’s other hand. “You’re such a fucking liar,” he hisses to your mother.

“Wow, maybe my mom dying when I was young was for the best. Better than this for sure,” Wade jokes, gently elbowing your side. You chuckle, grateful for even the slightest ounce of comic relief.

“You’re even more of a freak than you were in high school.” You squeeze Ellie’s hand tight as your father’s expression darkens even further.

“Funny you should say that, considering-“

“Wade,” your mother cuts him off.

That’s weird, to say the least. You just file that away for later. You have bigger fish to fry, like surviving this visit.

“Y/N, why’d you go for a check-up at all? You barely needed the anti-depressants in the first place,” your mother wonders.

“Because it wasn’t barely. Why else would they raise the dosage?” You ask, and the expression on her face is as stupid as the question she asked.

“Don’t speak to her that way,” your father scolds, like he didn’t just call your mother a fucking liar himself. “You are so ungrateful for everything we’ve done for you, do you realize that?”

“I’m sorry, what have you done for her, exactly? Answer quickly, please,” Ellie retorts.

“El-“ you start, but realize this isn’t anger, but advocacy.

“Well, we sheltered and fed her for over a decade,” your father remarks, smirking like he’s won.

“That’s your job!” Wade argues.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/N… I politely asked that you refrain from visiting the campus, and while I appreciate your concern for Y/N’s well-being, I must ask that you remain respectful of her, her fellow students, and my staff. Causing unnecessary conflict is exactly the reason you were almost banned when you last visited,” Professor Xavier finally speaks.

“Almost banned?!” Wade wheezes.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and Wade’s laughter immediately ceases. “I was cheating in school, according to- To Dad.” The word is poison in your mouth.

“Come on, we all know you’re not smart enough to get those grades on your own. Probably screwing some teacher, just like Mom.”

“That’s enough,” Ellie snarls, eyes glowing orange.

“I never screwed a teacher!” Your mother protests at the same time.

“Oh, that’s right, you just blew Mr. Morin. My bad. Wow, Y/N, you really must be something special for all these alphas to be fawning over you. Maybe I did fuck up once or twice, after all, I’ve heard daddy issues-“

“Well, you visited! Now get the fuck out,” Wade chirps.

“Mr. L/N, must I repeat myself? I know you and Mrs. L/N were interested in a tour. Perhaps a less crowded area would help ease your minds,” Xavier reminds you all of his presence once more.

“That sounds like a great idea,” your father agrees.

“I’m starting to get a bit of a headache, maybe you could show us your room first and I could lie down for a bit in there?”

“I-“ You look to the girls, not wanting them to have to deal with her alone.

“Actually, Miss Phimister and Miss Kitsuna would be perfect additions to a rescue team. The orphanage your friend Russell came from was actually part of a network for mutant trafficking, and we found another hub in Maine. The jet takes off in fifteen minutes, and you two will be back in time for dinner. Better get ready and briefed.”

“But-“ Yukio starts, looking to you.

“Go, be superheroes,” you tell them, and they head out. “Uh, how about we swing by the library first, to give them time to change, and then to our room?”

“You share a room with them? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“We were roommates before we started dating,” you correct him.

“Dating… Aw, I bet you really think that’s what it is, too. Having parents in a sham of a marriage really did a number on you, huh?” Your father condescends.

“You know, it’s pretty fucked up how fixated you are on her sexuality. Do you like to picture it, you goddamn creep?” Wade defends you, and your skin crawls. You’d never thought of it that way before.

“Let’s just get that tour started, ‘kay?” You squeak. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner they’ll be on their way, hopefully.

“Good idea, Y/N,” Wade says. “Come on, Textbook, let’s go.”

“You didn’t just call me-“

“Oh, but I did, Textbook. Hey, Y/N, did you know that was your dad’s nickname in highschool? ‘Cause he was so fuckin’ easy to shove in a locker.”

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh and failing.

“Just show us the library already, Y/N,” your mother says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You take your parents to the library, as requested. Wade keeps pace with you while your parents fall back. You can’t hear their exact words, but you know your parents are bickering.

“You never said it was this bad.”

“It’s not that bad. It’s definitely been worse,” you admit, busying your eyes with the paintings that line the walls so that you don’t have to meet Wade’s gaze. You might just cry if you do; you can feel the sympathy radiating off of him.

In these past few months, Wade’s been more of a father than your dad, even more of a mother than your mom, but for some reason that doesn’t make you feel more justified in how you feel about your parents. In fact, it just makes you feel worse, and even if you’ve never actually expressed it, you’re still ashamed of the fact that you wish Wade was your father instead. He actually cares, while your parents are simply legally obligated.

From the day you met, Wade’s always been there for you. If you were to tell your parents what you almost did the other day, they’d just call you attention-seeking and insult you in other ways. All they’d do is make you want to try again.

You and Wade stop at the entrance to the library and wait for your parents to catch up. They do, and you open the double doors to reveal the room.

“It’s like Beauty and the Beast,” your mother gapes.

“I thought so, too,” you agree, attempting a smile, but your parents just ignore you, wandering around the large room. Your mother excuses herself after a few minutes of spinning, saying that the dizziness is making her headache worse.

“All these books and you’re still… The way you are,” your father comments, looking at you with such disdain.

“Winner of the science fair with her loving partners, three years in a row?” Wade questions. “Oh, or maybe you’re talking about the fact that she’s a published poet. How embarrassing for you, I’m sure.”

“Wade,” you protest under your breath, embarrassed. They don’t even know that stuff. After middle school, you stopped telling them about your accomplishments. You figured out that all they’d do is ruin them for you.

“No, no, trust me. It’s more about the fact that she’s slutting around with alphas and won’t even save us the embarrassment of them being girls,” you father spats.

“That’s enough,” Wade snarls.

“Oh, that’s right, we can’t forget that she’s yours, too. I guess anything with a dick is daddy considering I was too busy putting food on the table to play dollies,” he remarks, and you suddenly feel light-headed.

“Seriously, Textbook, I really don’t want to hurt you, especially not in front of Y/N, but I fucking will if you make me.”

“Just go,” you urge Wade, starting to feel a bit dizzy, surely from the stress. You brace yourself on him, disguising it as a touch meant to comfort him. He looks concerned as the edges of your vision start to darken a little.“I- What you’re doing, I appreciate it, but-“

“You appreciate it? You appreciate him disrespecting me, disrespecting our family?!”

“Our family?!” You finally snap. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and you couldn’t do that. You just couldn’t. And now we’re a family?! No. No, you…” You start to pant, your face feeling even hotter than before. “You�� I hate you,” you manage to get out before your world goes completely dark.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N! I’m so prou-“

But when Wade turns to you, you’re halfway to the ground. He catches you, though, and he catches a whiff of something… Familiar.

Lavender. It’s not just the Wilson scent, sure, but it’d be too much of a coincidence. You smell just like him. You are him, or, rather, made of him.

He’s torn between ecstatic and furious.

“Hey, can we get some help over here?” your father calls out to no one. It’s not a school day, and lots of students are out on missions. He reaches out to you for once in your life, but Wade’s now sitting on the floor, cradling you in his arms.

“No,” Wade argues. “Not yours. Mine.”

“What?” You father asks incredulously. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“She’s. Not. Yours,” Wade repeats, and the more he inhales your scent, the more out of control yet calm he feels. Like he’s in the eye of a hurricane. “My baby. Mine.”

“You’re not saying…” your father trails off as Wade gets up, still cradling you. Wade has to take you to your room; help make you a nest, now. He can smell it on you.

You’re in heat.

He gets to your room quickly, practically tossing you onto your bed. Wait… Isn’t your mom supposed to be here?

And that’s when he hears the sound of pills spilling onto the floor.

He nearly rips the bathroom door off of its hinges. Luckily, your mother spilled what Wade quickly realizes is suppressants, and not your prescription.

“You. You could’ve killed her. You are very, very lucky that my baby-“

“Our baby,” your mother corrects.

“No, you take pills, you can’t even smell her, let alone feel her like I can. It- It’s so much it fucking hurts. I’ll say it again, you’re very lucky my baby is in heat, or your arteries would be emptying in that shower. Now, go. Don’t come back.”

You groan in pain, stirring, and your mother takes Wade’s advice. Wade calls Yukio. Then Ellie. Then Yukio. Then Ellie.

“What the fuck, dude?!”

“You need to turn around. Now. I don’t have the time to explain. It’s Y/N.”

“Is she okay?” Ellie, always skeptical, asks.

“Obviously fucking not, or I wouldn’t be calling. She’s in heat.”

“But-“

“I said that I don’t have time to explain, fucking turn around! I’m on the verge of going fucking feral, Ellie. You both need to get here, now.”

“Wade, get out,” Ellie immediately demands.

“I can’t,” he admits.

“Get out! Shit, Wolverine! We need to turn around!”

“I can’t. It’s not like that I swear, it’s… I’m going fucking crazy, just one of you will do, but someone needs to get here.”

“Wade, go.”

“I would never hurt her! Come home!” Wade barks before hanging up. He returns to your room to find you’ve made a nest instinctively - thank goodness for Yukio’s affinity for pillows and blankets - and now you’re curled up in pain in the center of it.

“Wade,” you whimper. He’s scared to step closer, not sure if he’s what you want, even if you despise who you thought was your father. “What’s happening to me? Everything hurts.”

“I really don’t know how to say this, but… You’re in heat.”

“But I’m a beta,” you argue, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s what we all thought. But… Remember how you didn’t smell like anything before? Uh, let me start over. When did you start on your anti-depressants?”

“I was about twelve,” you confirm, not sure what that means.

“Yeah, I think those were suppressants. That it’s always been suppressants, no matter what the bottles said. Until you got a prescription without your mother knowing. Do you understand why your mother would do that?”

You shake your head, and he approaches the bed, sitting down carefully as not to disturb your work.

“Her boyfriend around the time she got pregnant with you was a beta. We know him as Textbook,” Wade teases, before continuing: “But, what no one realizes is that he was at Niagara Falls on spring break around the time when you were conceived, and she was hanging out with her next-door neighbor the whole time. Her next-door neighbor was me.”

“Oh, so I’m your highschool mistake,” you say, connecting the dots.

“Huh?”

“Ha, well, whenever my parents- Well, I guess not my parents, but that’s beside the point, uh, whenever they argue and it gets really bad, my father- Well, not my father, but, uh-“

“Continue,” Wade urges.

“Basically, sometimes he uses ‘a mistake I made in highschool’ as code for ‘Y/N,’” you explain. “But the truth is, I’m the mistake you made in highschool.”

“You’re not a mistake,” he disagrees. “You’re- You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Lots of things are made by accident, but that doesn’t make them mistakes! Penicillin, potato chips, Post-It notes, popsicles! They were never supposed to exist but they do and the world is much better off with them in it.”

“You really do have a lot of useless knowledge,” you realize.

“So do you, that’s why our team always wins trivia night.” Wade slips off his boots, joining you in your rearranged bed. “C’mere,” he suggests, guiding your head to his neck.

“S’really you,” you mumble, already weary, and Wade worries for what’s to come. He almost doesn’t even want to let the girls in. He could get you pain medicine, he could probably even find sedatives. Then no one would ever be able to even touch you, let alone hurt you. “Lavender. You never mentioned the lavender, just the sandalwood.”

“I didn't think you’d be impressed,” Wade admits.

“It’s relaxing,” you tell him. “It’s nice to have things in common with someone.”

“You smell like roses, too, not just lavender,” he makes sure you know.

“Yeah, but I think that’s mostly concentrated in an area I’d rather not discuss with you.”

“Well, just make sure that if you do decide to do anything more with them than cuddle, which I can gladly go through the rest of my life without knowing, bee-tee-dubs, that the girls are wearing alpha condoms, especially if one of them knots you. Standard condoms work in a pinch if it’s just for one, y’know, go, but for heats they’re basically useless because of everything I just said. If they hurt you, I will make their deaths look like accidents.”

“S’not like I can get pregnant anyway…” You mumble, embarrassed. “I’m- I’m really glad it’s you. I- I wished so many times that it was you instead of him. Ow, ugh, that one was bad,” you groan, massaging your stomach.

Meanwhile, on the jet, Ellie is furious with herself.

“Yukio, you don’t get it, I smelled her. She smelled like an omega, but I thought- I assumed she was cheating on us. That maybe she didn’t want to be with us like that was because she wanted to- I don’t know, to be on top? It seems so stupid now.”

“Hey, I noticed she smelled different, too. There were other signs we both missed, anyways. Think about how emotional she’s been lately, or how much farther we’ve been going in other ways. How clingy she’s been, too.”

“I guess I didn’t really notice it because I liked her being more open and needing us more,” Ellie admits. “She- She almost fucking killed herself. And I thought cheating was what she was hiding. I- I just-“

“You can’t beat yourself up over it,” Yukio insists. “We’re on our way back, and Wade’s there to protect her.”

Speaking of Wade being there to protect you, he continues to comfort you as the pain gets worse.

“S’too hot,” you complain, and he releases you from his hold, rising from the bed. He knows he’ll have to leave you soon, because you’re likely going to need privacy before the girls get home, but it’s hard to part from you knowing you’re in pain.

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay? And after that, I’m just gonna stand guard outside the door until your girls get here. I know there’s some stuff you need to do, and that’s only gonna get worse.”

“It’s already awful,” you admit, and he chuckles.

“Good luck, kid. I love you.”

Wade gets a case of bottled water from the school’s industrial-sized pantry, bringing it to your room and tearing it open for you before leaving once more. You take one, immediately guzzling it down.

In privacy, you take off Yukio’s cardigan and your bottoms, leaving you in Ellie’s tee shirt and your underwear. You decide to go ahead and free yourself from the constriction that is your bra, feeling a bit embarrassed that you’re not leaving much to the girls’ imagination for your first time together. You eventually decide to undress completely, wondering when the hell your girls are gonna get here.

#a/b/o #yukisonic #yukisonic x reader #yukio x reader #negasonic teenage warhead x reader #ellie phimister x reader #yukio imagine #negasonic teenage warhead imagine #ellie phimister imagine #yukio #negasonic teenage warhead #ellie phimister #x-men imagine #x-men fanfiction #sapphic x reader #sapphic imagine #wlw x reader #wlw imagine

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abeingfromnothingness · 3 years ago

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Anthropocene

(This is a short story to help with visualizing -this- idea don't take it way too seriously. You can make your own version of the idea if you want.)

Shoutout to @marlynnofmany "accidentaly human" series for inspiring this idea

@niqhtlord01 @dycefic @starr-fall-knight-rise for their great stories which are used as inspiration

@whereartthoubromeo this is for you

And the humans are weird community here

_________________________________________

Humans, when you hear that word what do you usualy think it describes?

More often than not it describes these hairless unasuming bipeds, they naturally have no magic abilities, traits or anything noteworthy except for being sexually compatible with all races but that all changed when a human named wudolf suon made a discovery that changed how we see these dissapointing apes.

-----------------------‐---‐-------------‐---------------------------

Wudolf was like every other human in his village normal and boring except for a select few with magical potential through familial ties. His parents were magicaly potent but he himself was not, he was enroled into the best academy there by scholarships his parents paid for using money acumulated during their adventuring days with a group who saved the world, this was to help him learn magic.

Most humans were often bullied for being weak and pathetic magic casters but wudolf got the most bulliying due to the fact he has little no magic potential, so during his freetime he experimented ways to forcefully give himself magical powers or disabling it from others.

One fatefull night during one of his experiments he got into an accident thankfully or should i say unfortunately he survived and gained magic powers like he wanted though ever since that day all magical creatures that stand near him always felt slightly uneasy, to the point no one makes any friends with him except human friends, they never felt what the rest of the students described, at the end of the day he didn't care as long as he can use magic now.

Whenever wudolf tries to cast a spell it never seems to work the first time then the next day he suddenly can do it perfectly though there was something a bit off about the aura, whenever he is questioned how he did it he always replied "i don't know it just... gave itself to me i guess".

Over the course of the semester his power kept growing, the range where magical creatures felt uneasy also increases, every magic fight he entered always resulted in him winning every single time with little to no harm done to him with most magical beings attending feeling unwell and a few humans having a faint headache.

The principal suspected something strange was happening but didn't care because of wudolf helping the academy acumulate many tournament trophies, one day the principal got an anonymous tip about wudolf practicing forbiden magic with a picture of wudolf reading a mysterious book, it is suspected that the ones who sent the anonymous tip were jealous students but whoever that sent it just opened pandora's box.

Wudolf and his parents were called into the principals office one day to discuss about his dabling with the forbiden arts, of course wudolf is innocent but any mention about the dabling in forbiden arts are treated with zero tolerance.

Wudolf tries and pleads innocence but the principal doesn't bellive him after the many months of accumulated reports from many students feeling uneasy around him and only him though no human students ever complained which proves he wasn't using forbiden arts, but was ruled out for the reason that "humans have difficulty with magic" so he was kicked out and ran away into the wilderness never to be seen again.

A month has passed when suddenly a figure wearing a carved out dragon head and a cloak made of dragon skin attacked the village, a group of heroes consisting of a human mage, an elf archer, an orc barbarian, and a dragonborn paladin confronts the figure in front of them standing amongst rubble of a ruined square.

"Ah, i assume you are one of this vilage's groups of heroes am i correct?" The figure speaks though slightly muffled and distorted by the head they are wearing.

"That is correct and you should leave or else we'll strike you down even killing you if we have to." The dragonborn exclaims

"Well i should say the same way to beings such as yourselves, except you human" the figure points at the suprised mage

"What do you want from me?" The human exclaimed.

"It's pretty obvious, You and other humans"

the orc stands infront of the mage

"you no hurt little buddy!"

The figure laughs "hurt? Oh no no no, let's just say 'under my care' it's not like orcs such as you can show kindness, the only thing you know is being a big brutish pushover who values an ally by stength so let me place us at an even footing" with a snap of a finger the orc suddenly collapses on to their back

"Gear. Too. Heavy."

"What did you do!?" The paladin shouted getting the attention of the figure "i already told you what i did, i placed us in an even footing, i made them 'human' so to speak"

the group turns to the orc waiting for some sort of transformation to happen but nothing happened.

"I don't know what you did but i will shoot you down from your mountain!" The elf taunts preparing a shot

"Granny, stop being mad, else you'll wither away faster, here let me help you take a well deserved break from this adventuring buisness." With another snap the elf expected to suddenly feel heavier which is why they aimed higher than usual, what waited for them was something else other than an increase in weight.

Their hair starts to grey, their vision starts to blur, their limbs slowly feel weak, the arrow that was fired was deflected effortlessly by the sturdy dragon scales of the figure's cloak.

"Your gravity and aging magic won't work on me, prepare to be brought justice." The dragonborn paladin exclaimed triumphantly

"Justice? Ha, after your kind's scally egotistical reign on many other regions especialy what one of you kept on doing to me and my friends during my student years, i'd beg to differ. let me serve you your just deserts master." The paladin prepares a breath attack but with a snap the dragonborn suddenly falls on their knee puking with their scales turning pale.

The figure looms menacingly "how the mighty have fallen. You know, your reaction reminded me of a dragon that i encountered, you all are wondering why suddenly there seems to be little to no dragon sightings?" What the figure says is true, for whatever reason no dragons have shown up for the past few weeks eventhough this area is known for many dragons in hiding, this never happened until a certain scholar was expeled and was never seen again.

"Let's just say i returned a long overdue debt. Of course i am not an idiot so i cut some loose ends one being a problem now and four more in the future, how did you think i got this attire, and survived?"

"You...monster" the dragonborn replies through their nausea

"A monster huh? how ironic especialy coming from a cousin of the species that did so without care to us lesser species." "Fireball!" The mage casts a spell which quickly dissipates instantly a feet away from the figure, the remaining heat catches the figure's attention "pathetic, now, time to deal with you my buddy ol'pal marcus." Marcus taken aback "w-wudolf!?"

Wudolf raises the ex-hatchling's maw revealing a familiar face with a very noticable change. "Hello marcus, it has been a while huh?"

Marcus draws in magic to prepare a spell "Look, whatever malicious god or being that is passively controling you, i will save you even if it results in any of our deaths."

Wudolf laughs "a malicious entity is that your conclusion of what happened to me?" Marcus nods in confirmation. "Well i can't blame you due to it being a common occurence to people like me and the fact that i was expeled due to being accused of such things, but allow me to show you OUR power." Marcus tries to cast a spell but nothing happened and he was then hit by a powerful force sending him flying into a wall, marcus tries again...nothing happened and he was hit by a blast sending him to the ground, he is starting to have a headaches. Wudolf prepares a large spear made off whatever magic he is using and throws it. Frusturated marcus tries and block it, and succedes creating a shield with the same magic wudolf is using, he falls down fatigued. "What was that i just did!?" Marcus stared at his hand in awe of what he has done, so does his teamates.

Wudolf stands there satisfied "i already told you, it is OUR power. Let me ask you a question." Wudolf summons ropes to bind each hero down. "Have you wondered what makes an art forbiden?"

Marcus was about to answer. "Don't worry i know what you'll answer and yes with the same reason of it being a common occurence but maybe, it is to stop instances of overpowering." "What do you mean by that?"

Wudolf smiles a little and starts walking around "well remember that day when i got into an accident?" Marcus nods remembering that day clearly. "when i recovered, i suddenly have the abillity to cast magic which was slowly growing more powerful with a side effect at the time i brushed of as miniscule. I then became our academy's champion winning several magic tournanent throphies which are null and void by now considering what happened last month. Did you ever notice how weird that after my 5th win in a row i was suddenly accused of practicing the forbiden arts which was treated with instant expultion?" Marcus pipes up "well yeah and we even found the sender of the annonymous tip who was a half-dragon that was jealous of you and used your weird unsetling aura as proof of forbiden magic possesion. So yeah i feel really sorry for you." "I can understand that too. Anyway, during my time out there i practiced my new found magic to find out what element it is and maybe who it was bestowed to me. Well the answer is very suprising, it's nothing and it is in fact OUR own natural magic."

Marcus wide eyed in shock "you are telling me that we were supposed to have our own magic abilities and what do you mean by it's nothing? It's magic, it's got to be something." Wudolf turns sharply to face Marcus "That's the thing, our magic comes from absolute nothing though now it's more of a something that is revealed within the absence of natural magic. With this knowledge i posses and now you too, i will bring our kind the justice we all deserve after many years living under fear of these creatures. I will create a world where they can never hurt us, one way or another, a libberation of you will."

Marcus finally has the strength to stand up "dude, i know your intention and it is a good one, but there's got to be a better way than a mass genocide, we can still live with each other side by side and yes we may be feared of but still, it is way better than extermination. You probably know this, so have a little bit of humani-" a large spike of energy pierces marcus' stomach sending him to a critical condition, this is followed by ropes of energy binding him. "You still don't get it do you. Maybe i need a larger example and suprisingly, (Wudolf creates an extra dimensional portal and pulls out a modified trumpet bearing a flag of a kingdom.) I do." He blows into it and a large portal appears that leads to the front of a kingdom "my own design if you are wondering." standing behind them is a king with an army of people from various ages standing behind them, far off behind them there seems to be a walled of kingdom with the wall having visible signs of damage as well as a huge area that was lost. From the wide and deep claw marks covering the wall to the massive bloodstain it is safe to assume that a massive creature had attacked not too long ago. Wudolf aproaches the king "ah mister wudolf let me guess, your friend?" The king says to him in a casual manner. "Yes though now more of an obstacle. Really hoped for them to join our cause." The king chuckles "happens to most of us. Well then, it is time for us to do a full sweep to recruit soldiers and exterminate these pests. It's funny how one day we were the most pathetic race to ever existed and then the next, eldritch monsters capable of crippling massive beasts with a glare." They both laugh at the thought while men and women storm the village.

-----‐-‐-----------------------------------------------------------

This was several years ago and since that time we started the rebelion, many creatures against these humans now called as (homo sapinihilis) courtesy of our (homo sapien) friends.

We also discovered these mushrooms that create a zone of replenishing mana which allows us access to magic while engaging those things.

We have reports of from our scouts that the "nihilistums" are developing a bomb to wipe everyone from existance.

Now it is your job to stop them, don't worry we have an adventuring group ready for you

#humans are weird #humans are weird + fantasyland #fantasy

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marauderssequels · 4 years ago

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meet the project managers!

we have a fantastic team assembled for this series, and it’s finally time to hear a little about a few of them! each and every one of us is dedicated to creating the books this community deserves, and I hope you’ll stick with us through this seven-book journey :)

Hi! I'm Richa, your designated Gryffindor stereotype. I'm 18 and I'm in charge of managing Book One of the series, as well as the character arcs for James (my favourite character!!) and McGonagall. I'm Indian and my pronouns are they/them. What I love most about the marauders is their friendship and how they'd do anything for each other, how they lived their lives raising hell wherever they went, how they're so different from each other and yet so similar, how they're the epitome of loyalty and chaos. I love their story, and so I'm really excited to be working on this project with so many creative people and I can't wait to see how it turns out! I'll be active on the Discord server and I’m TRYING to be more active on Tumblr (@imadiamond) too but lets be real I’m failing so don't hesitate to connect, I'd love that! :)

Hello, I’m Chloe (she/her and @nerds-escape), I’m 18, a Ravenclaw, I’m going to be double majoring in Anthropology and Criminology, and I’m the manager for Book Three! I’m great at projecting onto Dorcas (and Peter) whomst I am in charge of! While the original stories are interesting, there is something to be said about the Marauders and their friendships; we know virtually nothing about them, and it’s fun that the Marauders got to have a little more of a “teenage typical” view of the world growing up than Harry did. I’m always looking to get into projects, especially ones with lasting impressions. I had just finished working on the Marauder’s Pride Fanzine and figured I had room for another project, so I offered my help. We have come up with some amazing ideas so far and I’m super excited to see how the project ends up!

Hi, I’m Raina (she/her)! I’m the head of Book Four, and I’m managing Snape and Marlene’s character arcs. I’m a 19 year old English major and an aspiring novelist. I love to read, write, and draw, and I always find something to fangirl over. Harry Potter’s been a major obsession of mine for basically my entire life and I’m so excited to work on this project together. I’m active on the Discord server (raina//raincoat) and my tumblr is @yellowraincoat. Feel free to reach out and interact!

hey there, im aj (but you can also call me alex). my pronouns are they/them and i'm the co-manager of books 3 and 5. i've adored the marauders era and always have read fanfics (since jkr ever-so-nicely didn't write an official series for them), so the fact that im now part of a project which basically will talk bout the marauders during their school years is kinda cool, if im being honest and i cant wait to see how this goes!

I'm Toni (they/them), I’m in charge of Book 6 and the character arcs for Lily and Petunia. I also run the discord server (I’m Toni on there as well). My tumblr is @toni-d-b and it’s very chaotic (I’m sorry). I’m German, so I have a different time zone than most (I’m in UTC+1) and english is my second language, but it’ll be ok, I’m bilingual at this point and sleep is a lie. I will however remind all americans of the absurdity of everything about america at any chance I get. What I think I love the most about this fandom is that it is one at all. In the sense that we took little bits and pieces and built an era around them. There were mentions of people and now they are fully fleshed out characters and I just think that’s very neat of us to do that. That is also the reason I want to be part of this project and maybe to give back to this community I found.

hello, I’m ryn! I launched this project in august, and I run this blog and organize the tiers. I started this series because I wanted to find a place for myself and others in the harry potter stories again. the marauders are characters with so much potential, and the way fandom has shaped them is so loving and meaningful. I’ve always wanted more canon content for them, but I know now that our versions of them are better than anything that could come from the original author. bringing our community closer together through a project like this feels like the best possible way to connect again in one of the most isolating times many of us have experienced. I’m so happy to be working with all these incredible people, their introduction was long overdue and they can’t get enough credit for the fantastic work they’ve been putting in over the past few months. we’re going to bring you an amazing series, and I can’t wait to bring more passionate creators in as we launch production next month <3

#harry potter #hp #marauderssequels #marauders #marauders era #hp headcanons #marauders headcanons #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #severus snape #jily #wolfstar

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itsmydreamlifethings · 5 years ago

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Requested by @scorpionchild81:

Henry x reader: after some months apart, due to Henrys career - they end up in the bedroom after a super romantic evening. As they almost rip each others clothes of, their lovemaking is intense, rough and steamy! Its gets to the point to that she passes out in the heat of the moment...

Warnings: All the smut: Language, Oral, Fingering...hell, all of it. (18+. You’ve been warned.) Do not repost anywhere outside of TUMBLR!

The moment you stepped foot inside the airport, your heart quickens. You’ve been dating Henry for a year now, but he’s been gone for three whole months, working on a brand new project. The thought of seeing him again, flesh and bone, made your entire body tingles with nerves and excitement.

It seemed like an eternity passed before finally you see him. His huge frame standing on the descending escalator, surrounded by other people. He has his assistant a couple of staff, as he insists he doesn’t need body guards or anyone to really draw more attention to him.

His eyes spot you immediately and he grins. Your heart races so fast you can hear it in your ears. He comes over, drops his bag on the floor and wraps you into his arms. The warmth of his body pressed so closely to yours is like heaven. You have missed his cologne, a musky and citrusy blend, and the way his muscles tighten and then release as you mold into him.

“Baby, finally,” he whispers then pulls back slightly. He kisses you gently on the lips, but it’s brief. You’re both not huge fans of making out in public, especially in front of his staff, but of course he couldn’t wait to greet you properly with a soft kiss. You take his appearance in. You’ve facetime with him a million times the last three months, but in person he’s even more handsome. He’s clean shaven, wearing a navy blue sweater that brings out the steel color of his eyes.

“Let’s go home, beautiful,” he says and snaked an arm around your waist as you leave the airport.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

You and Henry had rented a place together about five months ago. It’s a penthouse in the heart of NYC and even though you’re both more into a countryside living, you both agreed this location suits your life and career at the moment.

By the time you’re back home and get settled, it’s evening. You had prepared a lovely welcome home dinner for Henry, which he devoured. Away from the cameras and his staff, his demeanor has changed from careful to downright touchy and clingy. You’re not complaining.

Slipping away for a few moments, and feeling grateful your boyfriend is back for a long while, you stare outside the wall size penthouse window. Millions of little lights glare as NYC’s night life begins to stir. Somehow the lights and commotion sooth you, almost lulling you into a lazy feeling.

Just then, Henry’s arms snake around you as he presses his chiseled body against your back. His lips nip and kiss your neck, his hot breath tickling you. You angle your neck, making space for him.

“Baby, I missed you so much,” he whispers. Hs voice is a deep growl, one you have missed so dearly. It comes out when Henry’s lustful side comes out in full force.

“I missed you too,” you coo.

“Yeah? Show me,” he counters, but before you can even answer, he flips you around and pushes you against the enormous window. You gasp, his body pressing close to you, closing any distance. He kisses you, softly at first, but then his tongue finds its way inside your mouth, and once it meets your tongue, they can’t help but engage in a passionate dance. His lips and tongue taste amazing.

His hands slide under your dress and you can tell that both of your pent up sexual frustration is about to culminate. He practically tears your panties off, and before you know it he has thrown you on the couch, slipping two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans, your wetness dripping all over his fingers. “You did miss me, baby.” He pumps his fingers and curls them with each thrust in, hitting your g-spot in the most delicious way. But that’s ho sex with Henry has always been. He knows exactly where your spot is and knows how to work it too. Soon, you’re unleashing the best, overdue orgasm on his hand, and he grunts, the feeling of your juices on him driving him wild.

You’re relishing in the last waves of your orgasm as Henry grabs your thighs and places them over his shoulder as he crouched between your legs.

“Henry--” you moan, but he’s already in the zone, his tongue burying inside your folds and sensually licking up the evidence of your orgasm.

“I missed the way you taste,” he murmurs, then plunges his tongue again and follows it with a nibble. “So sweet.”

The way he’s eating you surprises you with a second orgasm, another wave of pleasure peaking into ecstasy. Your heart is beating rapidly and you’re trying to catch your breath as Henry pulls back and grins at you. He reached up to your face, kissing you deeply and letting you taste yourself on his lips.

Then he picks you up and throws you over his shoulders, carrying you to your bedroom. He throws you down on the king size bed and steps back. He starts by peeling out of his t-shirt, revealing the hard, thick muscles he’s been working hard of for the last project. You eye him with delight, still not believing this gorgeous, sexy man is all yours.

When he unbuttons his pants and pulls them down together with his briefs you feel another bout of lust come over you. His dick is completely erect, so hard and veiny that it reminds you again how he stretches you when he’s inside you.

In one quick stride, he returns to the bed and grabs your hips. It’s clear he is so aroused, so impossibly hungry for you, and so pent up with sexual energy, that he is going to devour you like a savage. Flipping you around on all fours, he clenches your hips tightly, forcing your ass up higher. Most of the time, he takes slow deliberate thrusts, easing his big member inside you. But now, starving for you, he isn’t about being gentle.

He pushes in deeply, making you cry out. His cock pushes against your walls, stretching and splitting you in the most amazing way. You moan lewdly, unsure how you’d be able to tolerate another mind blowing orgasm. Within minutes, Henry’s pumping inside you, hard and fast, his usual coordinated rhythm dominated only by his need to have you, to fill you up, and to take what’s his. His thrusts are deep and violent, and although you are hypnotized by the way he takes you, loving the way he claims you, you’re feeling light headed. He drains you for a long time, pumping and thrusting, over and over again, his stamina topping any other great sex sessions you ever had. His hand grasps your hair and pulls your head back. You can see his darkened eyes. They’re filled with animalistic need, his thirst for you reaching a brand new level.He loves seeing your long, dark hair curtaining down your back. He yanks on the strands, eliciting a loud, sinful scream from you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight and wet, sweetheart,” he groans, his breathing becoming erratic.

You keep moaning and screaming, each of his thrust a mixture of ecstasy and pain.You feel his dick tremble inside you as the head slams into your cervix, and much to your shock, another orgasm begins to roll inside you. Henry’s own release is coming and he decides to move back onto his haunches and bringing up to ride him as you still have your back to him. An orgasm overtakes you both as he slams you up and down his cock, his strong hands grasped at your hips, sure to leave some nasty bruises. He spills inside you, a loud groan erupting from his chest and a cry from yours.

You fall onto the mattress, sweat layering your body and tears of pure joy and a sensitivity running down your face. Henry rolls next to you, patting your back.

“I-I need water,” you whimper, barely able to catch your breath. You stand up but a foot away from the bed, you feel so lightheaded that the room spins. You fall to the ground, blackness overtaking you until your eyes close and you pass out.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

“Shit, babe, are you ok?” Henry’s voice trails over to you as you open yours.

You watch him, his curls still dampened by sweat and sticking to his forehead. He has his cell phone in his hand, the other one behind your head. You’re lying back on the bed, still naked, and he places the cell down.

“I should call 911,” he says, worry causing worry lines on his forehead.

“What? No, no, I am fine.”

“Y/N, you passed out, I should call an ambulance,” he counters.

You giggle and sit up on your elbows. You still deel a bit dizzy and probably dehydrated, but you are feeling back to yourseld. “And tell them what? I fucked my girlfriend until she fainted.”

His face turns red and he smiles sheepishly. “Baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You caress his face. “You didn’t, Henry. It was just a .....wonderfully rough lovemaking session. My blood pressure spiked, I am dehydrated, and I just got fucked within an inch of my life.” You smile at him and wink. “Just get me some water, honey, I’ll be ok.”

He leans in and kisses you. “You sure? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

You savour the taste of his lips. “I promise.”

“Okay, but it’s nothing but cuddles and rest fo the night,” he warns. He gets up and heads to the kitchen to grab you a drink. Once back in the bed, he tucks you in, and takes his side of the bed. He wraps you closed into his arms, your head lying on his chest. He massages your scalp gently and places soft kisses on the top of your head.

“Feeling better, baby?” he asks, heavy concern still lacing his words.

You nod. “Yes. Better than I have in a long, long time.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill sexy #henry cavill smut #henry daddy fuck me hard

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amydancepants-peralta · 4 years ago

Text

The 5 times Jake & Amy tried to get some ‘alone time’ during the holidays (and the 1 time they’re successful)

Here is my entry into the @b99fandomevents Summer 2020 Challenge, for @peraltasames 💗 also available on ao3, as it is a little long ☺️

(For those of you playing at home, only part 2 is NSFW 🙊)

Part 1:

(where it all begins)

Attempt number 1: The Santiago Family Holiday House

“Thought I might find you here.”

Lifting her head up from its resting place in the crook of her arm, Amy doesn’t even try to suppress the smile that began to creep onto her face the moment she’d picked up on Jake’s voice.

She cocks her head to the side as he falters mid-step, an obvious blush creeping onto his cheeks as he lifts his hands, raising two bottles in mock surrender. “I mean, obviously I didn’t know that you’d be out here … I’ve never been here before and that’s giving off some real Creepy New Boyfriend vibes. You know what, I’m just going to reset and start again.” Digging one sneakered heel into the landing, he does a quick full body turn before Amy can give any type of reassurance; blinking quickly when their eyes meet again to indicate a Full Reset. “Hey, Ames! Your brother mentioned that you might be out here, so I thought I’d do something completely non-stalkery and bring you a drink.”

Chuckling, Amy reaches out for one of the offered bottles, riding that still new high that comes from hearing Jake Peralta refer to himself as her boyfriend. “Thanks, babe.”

It’s Jake’s turn to grin right back, clearly enjoying her use of their favourite new term for each other; a colloquial word that still seemed kinda new - given it’s only been four months since they got together - yet somehow fits so well it’s almost a little strange to remember a time when they couldn’t refer to each other as such. There’s a shared giddiness that floats between them as they clink bottles and take a sip, and her cheeks kinda hurt from smiling this much, but Amy really doesn’t care.

Gesturing at the expanse of the relatively simple deck, Jake takes in the wooden panelling of the exterior walls before turning his attention back to his girlfriend. “So … this is your little secret hideout, I hear?”

Nodding, Amy returns to her earlier position leaning against the high railing in front of her, letting out a soft yeah as her free hand runs along the timber paling.

Built by her grandfather as a home away from the city several decades ago, the Santiago Lake House has long been considered a place of refuge for the family. With six of her brothers, two uncles and her father Victor on the force, common holidays were rarely guaranteed off; and so this year they had elected a non-particular weekend in June as their opportunity for all to come together. Save for a last-minute issue at Victor’s precinct pulling him away from the festivities, all eight Santiago siblings (and their mother Camila) had arrived earlier today for a well overdue holiday.

While the majority of her family often preferred to gather around the oversized back deck, from a young age Amy had gravitated towards the more intimate side balcony that overlooked the water. Stretching out from the family room situated on the second floor, the surrounding tree tops lent a sense of privacy the back deck couldn’t completely offer; and on the evenings when things began to feel a little too loud, Amy would often come up here to decompress, watching the night slip by as the moon silvered the lake before her.

Taking a sip of his beer, Jake moves to stand next to Amy, resting his weight against the banister as he drinks in the view. “I really like it.” A small army of goosebumps appear on Amy’s skin, despite the dusk’s only slightly fading heat, as his arm brushes against her skin. “Perfectly compact, with a great view.” She can sense him grin, shoulder nudging against hers. “Feels like you.”

Amy feels her cheeks heat up as a blush washes over her, grateful that the relative darkness of the almost night sky would be able to hide her reaction. Jake was the very first boyfriend she’d ever brought to the lake house - a fact that Manny had announced very loudly in the middle of the private tour she had been giving earlier - and the look of elation and pride that had taken over Jake’s features at the discovery has remained fresh in her mind for the past few hours.

(It had never been an overly deliberate action, to keep previous boyfriends away from the lake house, but the thought of Jake joining in, within a minute of the date being set, had been so automatic that Amy is only now realising that the concept of being here without him had seemed completely illogical.)

A melody played from Luis’ acoustic guitar is carried up to the two of them by a sudden breeze, cutting through the tops of the surrounding pine, and Amy lets out a small shiver: forever and always susceptible to the cold, regardless of the lingering summer heat. Without missing a beat; Jake moves to stand behind her - covering her back with his front with the instinct of not only a gentleman, but a man who is very quickly taking complete hold of her heart.

His arms come to rest besides hers along the edge of the bannister, and quietly Amy hopes that he cannot feel the rapid pounding of her heart through her jacket. It felt a little ridiculous to act this way, like some kind of lovesick teenager drawing hearts all over her notebook, but dating Jake for the past four months doesn’t seem to have taken the edge off the way his presence made her feel.

“So …. Tell me about David.”

As hard as she tries to avoid it, Amy feels her shoulders tense up - the urge to let out an exaggerated UGH almost too strong to resist. She’d only touched on David’s presence briefly on the drive up to the lake house, and despite her own personal reservations, she supposed it was sort of fair that Jake might have a few questions. Letting out a calming breath, Amy gives herself a quick reminder to keep her responding tone light. “What would you like to know?”

“Uhh … well, look - the way his photo is displayed on that mantel in the formal lounge, and the clear adoration in your mother’s voice whenever his name came up made me wonder if he was on some super secret mission to Mars or something.” Shaking his head, Jake knocks the lip of the beer bottle against his forehead. “I honestly spent the first twenty minutes of polite chatter frantically rewinding all of our conversations over the last few years in my head, trying to remember you ever bringing up something like that. Thank god he walked in when he did, or I’m sure I would’ve ended up saying something really stupid.”

Knowing that Jake can’t necessarily see her (okay, perhaps childish) reaction, Amy rolls her eyes at the mention of Camila’s unfiltered reverence when it comes to David. “Yeah, he’s basically the ‘Do No Wrong’ guy … The Golden Child, as Julian and I like to call him. It’s kinda always been like that, ever since he came home from first grade with a report card filled with gold star stickers and praise from literally every teacher he’d ever been in contact with.”

Swallowing his last swig of beer, Jake scoffs into the night sky. “Gold stars are cool, I guess. But any fool knows that the scratch-n-sniff stickers are where it’s really at.”

“Obviously. Strawberry, the clear winner.”

His free hand landing on her forearm, Jake squeezes gently. “I’d always been partial to grape, but strawberry just reminds me of that chapstick you use before bed now, and I am a big fan of those strawberry kisses to start my morning.”

Craning her head to the side slightly, Amy flashes Jake a grin before meeting him halfway for a soft kiss. She, too, had become a big fan of morning kisses … and afternoon kisses, night kisses … basically any time she got to feel the pressure of Jake’s lips against her own was a winner in her book - and she knows she’s being a little ridiculous but she also really, really likes him. Remembering their previous conversation as she pulls away, Amy shakes her head slightly before looking out onto the lake again.

“It’s worse at home, if I’m being honest - it’s basically the same shrine on the mantel, only at home we have a piano in the living room as well. So … how well you’re doing at school or work or whatever, determines your position either on the piano or the wall of shame above the staircase.”

“I mean … I’m sure it’s not meant to feel like a wall of shame, babe.”

Amy nods, letting out a quick I want to believe you laugh. “Tell that to Tony. One semester, he wasn’t focusing as much as normal, and his grade dropped by a whole level. Two days after he came home with the results, Mama conveniently decided to do a redesign of the living room - one that just so happened to include the shuffling of Tony’s school portrait from next to mine on the piano, to sitting at the bottom of the staircase.”

Taking a long sip of Cristal, Amy pauses to take stock of the conversation. It felt slightly traitorous to be talking to Jake about the hierarchy that - prior to this evening - she’d only ever discussed with her brothers (minus one). There’s never been a question over whether their mother loved them dearly - an abundance of love was palpable between the walls of both their family home and the holiday house - but it was also impossible to deny that the shadow of David’s successes, paired with Camila’s obvious praise, had loomed over Amy’s shoulders during her many late night study sessions.

This wasn’t the first time talking to Jake had led to Amy admitting more than she would to most - he had that (at times, irritating) ability to sneak past her guard long before they’d been anything more than colleagues. But one of her most favourite details of their new relationship, aside from the why-did-we-wait-so-long-for-this sex, was the amount of nights they would stay up just … talking. They’d learnt more about each other in the past four months than the last two years combined, and still she craves more. Shaking her now empty bottle, Amy stoops to place it on the ground beside her before straightening, sighing in contentment as Jake’s shoulders rest against hers once again.

“Eventually, Tony’s photo found its way back to the piano .. but the message was pretty clear.” Letting out a rueful laugh, she shakes her head slightly. “It’s no secret that I love a bit of friendly competition. But … it’d be kinda nice if the rungs of the ladder weren’t always so far away from each other.”

At the feeling of Jake’s lips pressing into her hair Amy lets out one last sigh, surprising herself with just how lighter her shoulders seem to feel. A silence stretches between them as Jake drains the last of his beer, and just when she’s about to change the subject completely, he speaks.

“So. There’s a little known fact about me, that you should probably be made aware of now that we’re all smooshing booties offical stylez and whatever.”

Her lips curl up at the term. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yup. Obviously you’re already aware of my titles as Greatest Detective Ever, Badass MC, Amazing Lover, Fierce Defender of Good from Evil ..”

“Oh god, is this list ever going to end?”

“… Master dunker at B-ball, unofficially official taste tester of any and all sour candies … but! What you might not know is that I am also a crazy good Hype Man. Like .. the best. All the others can just go home coz I kick the most butt at hyping things up and that’s just the facts.”

Turning her head slightly towards Jake, Amy glances up at her boyfriend from the corner of her eyes. “I feel like there was a point you were making, here?”

Depositing his empty bottle along the far edge of the banister, Jake’s hands return to weave their fingers through both of Amy’s, staying close as she watches him take a heavy swallow. Sensing that something important was about to be said, and that Jake may not be at the Locked Eyes Grand Gesture stage just yet, she trains her gaze towards the lake and waits.

“What I’m saying, Ames, is that I am officially signing up to be your hype man. I will literally have zero hesitation in pointing out your awesomeness to anybody that doesn’t immediately see it, and I just ..” Pausing for a moment, he shuffles closer to her back, squeezing their gripped fingers tightly, and she takes no hesitation in squeezing right back. “You need to know that … no matter what happens. I’m always going to be there, cheering you on.”

The unspoken definition of the no matter what happens hangs between them, the mere mention of anything but the two of them staying together sounding both unwelcome and impossible, and Amy nods against his chest.

“I just …. They could rewire the stars with your accolades, Ames. The fact that it goes over anybody’s head baffles me, let alone somewhere like here.”

She nods again, temporarily unable to speak as unexpected tears begin to threaten their escape. There were an abundance of reports and awards that spoke of her achievements, and logically she knew that any task that she set her mind to could be mastered with relative ease.

But to know that Jake not only noticed her triumphs, but wanted to actually (and, perhaps literally) shout them from the rooftops, meant more to Amy than she could have anticipated.

He presses another kiss to her hair, and she holds onto him tightly. There’s so much familiarity surrounding her right now - from the scratch of the logwood bannisters; the filtered laughter of her brothers and their extended families, to the slightly acrid smell of burnt marshmallows as Luis once again fails to make a decent s’more.

Jake’s cologne with it’s spicy notes, and the overall sense of warmth he exudes, should feel foreign amongst it all … but standing here on the balcony with his arms stretched out comfortably on top of her own, Amy cannot deny that it feels less like an intrusion, and more like the final piece of life’s puzzle locking into place.

Her voice cuts through the night, tone soft as she rests her head briefly against Jake’s shoulder. “I’m really glad you’re here, Jake.”

The bridge of Jake’s nose brushes her temple as he dips his head lower, pressing a kiss against her cheekbone, and her heart skips at the simple intimacy of it all. “Me too, Ames.”

His fingers, still interlaced with hers, tighten as he pulls their arms closer to her middle; holding the two of them in a tight embrace as his continues a trail of kisses, letting out a quiet sigh as he follows her jawline. It’s as his teeth begin to graze the outside edge of her earlobe - a guaranteed winning choice - that he begins to whisper, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine. “So if I’m officially the first boyfriend you’ve brought here … does that mean there’s a bed somewhere that needs breaking in?”

Grinning, Amy turns in his embrace, releasing her grip on his hands so that she can throw her arms around her boyfriend’s neck and nod. He gives her a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows, absorbing her laughter with a slightly longer kiss as his arms wrap around her lower body, and it only takes a moment when he pulls away and looks down at her - but in a moment, she knows.

It’s a combination of things - a curated list of all of her favourite details about him coming together on a hazy June evening: the softness of his touch every time he was near; the warmth of his breath when it ghosted over her skin, the way he made her feel like she was the only person in the world that he could ever want to kiss. She knows that it’s still technically early days, but as his fingers tip gently underneath her chin and draw her closer for the kind of kiss one doesn’t forget easily, Amy knows for sure that she is most definitely falling in love with Jake Peralta.

It’s the kind of thought - the kind of kiss - that distracts even the most focused of people, and for that reason alone Amy doesn’t hear the heavy thud of Manny’s boots bounding up the staircase until it’s accompanied by his loud Busted! tone.

“Okay amantes - time to come and at least pretend to be sociable with the family, yah?”

Amy’s lips pull away from Jake’s with a smack, swivelling her head towards her brother as she fixes him with a glare. “We’re here for an entire weekend, Manny. Plenty of time for family stuff.”

That frustratingly mischievous glint appears in her brother’s eyes - a sure sign of danger ahead - and Amy pulls away slightly from Jake. “Ah-huh. No biggie, Ma’s just been asking about your new boyfriend Jake, and is wondering where you’d gotten to … I’ll just tell her you’re both up here exploring the backs of each other’s throats, if that’s cool?”

Grabbing her wrist quickly, Jake yelps out a quick “Nope!”, gently pulling Amy towards the staircase. “We were actually just talking about how we should go down and join the crowd, weren’t we Ames?”

Manny makes little to no effort to conceal his laughter as Amy’s response is a continuation of her glare, and he half-turns towards Jake as all three begin their descent towards the back deck. “FYI, my bedroom is right next to yours, and I sleep real light … wouldn’t want to have to tell Mama about the things that go bump in the night, hey hermana?”

“You’ll get yours, manito.” Amy mumbles, linking hands with Jake as they move further away from their private oasis.

There was a very good chance that this was Manny’s version of revenge (she may or may not have stumbled on her brother & his boyfriend last year, something she still swears to have been an accident) but now she’s both turned on and frustrated; knowing that as long as Manny has anything to do with it, there will be No Sex for her and Jake at the lake house.

Truly, she couldn’t think of a worse way to begin a holiday.

(… is that a red light blinking?)

Attempt number 2: Santa Barbara

Jake’s eyebrows lift in surprise as the strength of Amy’s shove forces him into the couch cushions below, body barely settling against the base before she begins scrambling onto his lap.

Responding to his shock with a satisfied grin, Amy rests her hands on either side of his face to pull him in for a kiss, catching his soft moans and joining them with her own as it deepens.

It isn’t until she’s begun to graze her teeth against the base of his neck that she catches her breath, whispering as her body begins to grind down against his - “I’m totally blaming you for this, by the way.”

“I’m not sure what I’m taking the blame for, but as long as you keep kissing me like that I’m pretty much going to admit to anything.”

She laughs, sinking her teeth gently into his shoulder and leaving a kiss in their wake. “You and your hands, stroking up and down my back all night while I was trying to be the attentive and supportive sister. It was driving me crazy, you don’t know how close I came to dragging you into the coat closet.”

The two of them had flown to Santa Barbara for a long weekend to show their support for Amy’s closest (aka: secretly favourite) brother, Miguel. As the only Santiago child not to join the NYPD, Miguel had instead chosen to become a specialist in the medical field, relocating to follow a promotion in California. This evening he was receiving an award from his peers at a gala uptown, and both Jake and Amy had jumped at the chance to attend - if for no other reason than a chance to get away, after months of double shifts and leads that had taken them absolutely nowhere.

Amy had chosen a new dress for the occasion - black material that shimmered in just the right way, with a low-scoop back to avoid the unbearable summer heat. Paired with her signature studs and heels high enough to do some serious damage if provoked, she’d felt like a million dollars walking into the gala on Jake’s arm - and had smiled ever so proudly as Miguel received his award.

The rest of the night, however, has become a vague memory … because all she can remember feeling - all she can remember even thinking about - was the way Jake’s fingers felt as they feathered against her exposed skin. With his arm draped over her chair he’d been given the perfect amount of leeway throughout the ceremony, and the non-sensical patterns of unconscious action on her boyfriend’s end had sent a parade of tingles all over her body with every lap.

Safe to say, once all the awards have been presented and they’d had the chance to congratulate Miguel once again, Amy had slammed down her fourth drink and found a convenient reason for her and Jake to leave. Immediately.

“To be fair Ames, you do look amazing tonight,” Jake mumbled in-between kisses, running his hand over the expanse of her back to demonstrate his appreciation. “Honestly, I’m blaming the dress for making my already hot girlfriend Super Mega Hot.”

She rewards his sweet declaration with a heated kiss, hands making quick work of his tie - loosening the knot with practised ease (she does, after all, fasten and loosen his work tie most days) and casting the fabric aside as she begins to tackle his buttons.

A beachside mansion, owned by a friend of Roger’s, had been offered to be their accommodation for the weekend - an olive branch of sorts towards Jake that he’d begrudgingly accepted (the notion of his parents dating each other, something he was slowly coming to terms with). Their delayed flight this afternoon had meant that Jake and Amy barely had time to dump their bags before getting changed and leaving again, but the floor-to-ceiling windows and expansive layout she’d picked up on their way out the door already suggested a very comfortable few days ahead.

It is, in fact, only as Jake drops a quick kiss to her lips, suggesting they move things into the bedroom, that Amy stands and actually takes stock of her surroundings (a combination of four drinks and an irresistible partner can clearly only lead to a distracted mind).

Tugging onto her boyfriend’s hand as he continues leading her towards the hallway, Amy lets out a quiet wait a minute - and it’s just enough to pique Jake’s interest, turning to see what it is that’s caught Amy’s attention.

“Ames?”

Raising her finger in a curious point, Amy surveys the room. “Cameras.” At Jake’s silence, she points them out as she slowly circumnavigates the room. “One, two .. I count four altogether. Four cameras, three of them video. Trained to face the furniture, and not the beach.”

Hands on hips, Jake moves further into the centre of the room, frowning. “Yeah, that is a little weird.”

Her eyebrows knit together as she walks towards the bookshelf next to the tv unit, inspecting a container that managed to catch her eye. “Jake, there are like five different handcuffs in here. All of them furry.” Turning her head, she begins to read a few of the labels attached on a row of VHS tapes. Genna and Nicolai … Matt and Lennon … “Cockpit Larry and the Mile High Stewardi?” Swivelling quickly, Amy turns to gasp at Jake. “Babe … what sort of place has your father organised for us?”

Running his hand along the back of his neck, Jake shakes his head quickly. “Let’s not panic just yet, Ames. This could all just be a series of coincidences that when put together seem really weird, but actually aren’t. It .. looks like a normal house - except for all the cameras that seem to be directed towards the couch we were definitely just making out on, maybe a few sex tapes and what, in hindsight, might definitely be release papers waiting for us on the kitchen bench.”

“There’s what, where?”

“In fact, I bet if I lift the lid off of this bowl thing, we’ll find some delicious candy or potpourri or something … and it’s lube. Many, many bottles of lube. Hey, we’ve got the same flavour!”

Amy’s eyes widen, her face paling significantly as she feels her stomach drop to her feet. “Oh god, this is a sex dungeon isn’t it?”

“If not, it’s the background of at least a few porn videos.” Gripping the base of his hair in frustration, Jake lifts his head to curse at the ceiling. “I should’ve known Roger wouldn’t know anybody with a normal house!”

Sensing the panic build up inside of her, Amy scours the room for her purse and heels, both of which had been discarded near the entryway mid-makeout. The arousal that had been coursing through her mere minutes ago has all but disappeared, replaced by the overwhelming urge to take a shower. She was all for porn, just as long as she wasn’t the star of it (one simply doesn’t find NYPD’s youngest female captain on RedTube) - and this house was the kind of place that, under a black light, would resemble a Jackson Pollock. “Jake, we need to leave. We almost had sex in here!”

“Almost being the keyword, Ames. Unless … ”

“Jake!”

“Coming, my love! Title of the sex tape that we definitely didn’t make here!”

(i’m sensing a pattern here …)

Attempt Number 3: The Beach House

“Jake! Jake’s girlfriend! I just pulled Charles’s ear away from your bedroom door, thought you might wanna know!”

Startled, Jake lifts his head up so quickly it hurts his neck a little, both confused and irritated that his earlier activity of planting a series of kisses along Amy’s bare torso has been so rudely interrupted. “Wait, was that …?”

Raising her head off of the pillow, Amy meets his startled gaze with her own. “Did she just - ”

Their suspicions (and, in all honesty - their worst fears) were confirmed a mere second later as another voice booms through their (thankfully, locked) bedroom door.

“I’ve had a very stressful week, Gina! What better way to lull myself into a restful sleep than by listening to the sweet lovemaking of America’s Dream Couple?”

“Oh my god, BOYLE!”

Jake’s knees slide against the sheets as he sits up, lending a hand to Amy as she follows suit. He lets out a defeated sigh as she pushes the hem of her shirt downwards again, leaning forward to grip his arm as he calls through the door - “Boundaries, Charles! … Thank you, Gina!”

“It’s a virtual feast for the ears, you guys! Very soothing, to bear audio witness to the actualisation of love beyond a doorway. It’s only weird if we make it weird.”

“It’s weird and creepy and not okay, Boyle!” Squeezing his eyes shut, Jake cringes at the sheer notion of it. Using his best nope voice, he continues. “Good night!”

From their position on the bed, Jake and Amy hear the faint sound of Gina muttering come on, you weirdo; and they wait in careful silence, sharing flustered looks.

The entire squad had all met up at Boyle’s ex-wife’s beach house this weekend, eager to continue the yearly tradition now that Holt and Jake had finally returned from Florida a month prior. After a day of fun and frivolity (the two of them perhaps being a little unsubtle as they openly checked each other out in their swimwear); the happily reunited couple had snuck away as the evening’s drinks began to die down for a little … alone time.

It had been Jake’s version of paradise, with Amy’s skin still feeling warm and sun kissed as his hands roamed her gorgeous body, and with a schedule of Absolutely Nothing planned for the following day, he intended to keep things going well into the early hours.

That is, of course, until Charles (and Gina, but … mainly Charles) had put a total stop to it.

Amy’s hand squeezes Jake’s bicep, casting a wary glance towards the door before softly speaking. “Wow, that was close.”

“Yeah. I never thought I would say this in relation to sex, but … thank god for Gina.”

“I don’t even want to imagine the alternative.”

Shaking his head, Jake swears under his breath. “You know what this is, right?”

“Charles forgetting basic social normalities, and grossly overstepping the line?”

“No. I mean, yes - that, too. But I think the main culprit here is the curse.”

“The curse?”

“The No Nookie Curse. Tell me you’ve noticed it Ames, it can’t just be me.”

Cocking her head to the side, Amy tests out the term. “The No Nookie Curse?”

Scooting closer to his girlfriend, Jake rests his palms against Amy’s thighs with the practiced comfort of someone who knows her body better than his own. “Every single time we tried to initiate sexy times when we’re on holiday, something happens to interrupt us. I’m telling you, we’re cursed.” He grimaces, rolling his eyes. “Which is probably because I didn’t forward that email on to seven of my closest friends back in 2013, but I was busy that day and - ”

“Jake. There’s no way we’re cursed. We had sex on our last holiday … didn’t we?”

“Do you mean that weekend at Dave’s cool beachfront mansion, that was also definitely used for porn films?”

“Oh right, the sex den. Okay, but that’s a one-off. We’ve been on plenty of holidays prior to that.”

“Like the lake house, where we were both so paranoid that Mama Santiago would find out what we were doing that we barely moved each evening?”

“Yeah, when you add it up like that it really doesn’t sound great.”

“I mean … there was lots of sex on the cruise once Doug Judy disappeared. Good sex, too - not that we ever have bad sex. But that was really good, life-affirming, post-declarations-of-love sex, that I’m completely certain we were able to have because we were in international waters, and therefore outside the curses’s jurisdiction.”

Covering Jake’s hands with her own, Amy squeezes gently at the mention of their cruise holiday and leans in for a chaste kiss. “I’m pretty sure curse’s don’t have jurisdictions, babe.”

“How can you be so sure, Ames? All I know is, whenever we’re on holiday and we try to get the good kind of naked, something always comes along and stops us. And it really is a travesty, because you always get this crazy sexy vacation glow about you that just makes me want to cover your body in kisses, and yet somehow it just never seems to happen.”

“Wow, you’ve really thought a lot about this, huh?”

“Lets just say it’s been eating away at me for a while now.”

A lewd joke dies on Amy’s lips as she looks over at her boyfriend, taking in the obvious frustration in his face and realising how seriously he was taking the issue. “Babe, I promise. There is no such thing as a curse.” Planting her hand on the other side of the bed, she lifts herself up, straddling his lap as he moves quickly to tent his legs behind her. “And I am going to prove it to you - right here, right now.”

His hands land on Amy’s waist, holding her steady as she scrapes the edge of her teeth against his curve of his neck, carding her fingers through his shorter hair while her body slowly gyrates on his lap. “God I love you, Ames.”

“Mmm.” Amy takes in a deep breath, relishing the scent of the man she’d missed for so long, sighing when his hands reach down to squeeze her butt. “I love you too, Jake.”

The curse, the previous interruption … pretty much any kind of detail other than his name was disappearing from Jake’s mind with every press of Amy's warm lips against his skin, and he lets out a soft moan, gripping her body tighter as his hands begin to wander to her front.

THUD.

“OW! Rosa!”

“What the hell, Boyle! I know Gina just pulled you away from here!”

Their kissing coming to an abrupt stop, Amy groans, tucking her head into the juncture of Jake’s neck and shoulder. “Oh my god, again?!”

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Jake falls back onto the mattress, taking Amy with him and curling both arms around her protectively. They listen as Charles and Rosa squabble in the hallway outside, choosing not to acknowledge the horror of it all this time around. With a defeated grumble, Amy reaches for the comforter, covering them both up before returning to her safe place (i.e., Jake’s shoulder).

“What was that you were saying, about curses not existing?”

(okay, now the universe is just messing with us)

Attempt Number 4: Team Building in Deer River

It’s Jake’s absent-minded humming of his current favourite song that puts a tranquil smile on Amy’s face on their return to the campsite, keeping her grip around his waist tight as the leaves crunch loudly beneath their feet.

Together with the squad, they had spent the day attending a team building event in Deer River - a state forest just far enough from the city that camping overnight had been the safest option.

After a full day of trust falls, puzzle solving and a group scavenger hunt, the couple had strategically erected their tent further away from the rest of their team, hoping to afford a little bit of privacy (and perhaps, a safe enough distance from Charles). Following Jake’s exoneration, and the brand new addition of a shiny ring on Amy’s finger, a night away underneath the stars was exactly what they needed; and once everything was set up the two of them had wandered off into the woods for some time to themselves.

(Aka: totally disappearing into the surrounding trees and starting a makeout session that lasted longer than either had anticipated.)

(So much so, that the sun had almost completely set by the time they pulled away from each other, hastily returning each of their clothing to a suitable state before heading back.)

Intent on proving that the No Nookie Curse was only an amalgamation of Jake’s paranoid thoughts, Amy was determined to get back to the campsite and settle themselves into bed before anyone or anything could interrupt them. Her plan involved waiting out the rest of the squad’s bedtime routines, before demonstrating to the love of her life that vacation sex was not only a) possible, it was also b) definitely happening.

Whistling the last few bars of his song, Jake tightens his arm around Amy’s shoulder as a strong wind runs through the surrounding greenery - the fifth gust since they started walking back, all of them gaining in strength - already regretting not grabbing her scarf from their luggage earlier.

“Just throwing it out there, babe? Still on Team Outdoor Sex. Sex in the woods sounds hella cool. Daytime sex, though. Now that the sun has clocked out, and the wind has clocked in, it’s actually kinda really cold.”

“Daytime outdoor sex does sound cool, if you disregard the bugs that will crawl all over you, the ticks that will suck on your blood and potentially give you Lyme disease … the bears that could come along at any second and attack us …”

“Really ramping up on the sexy talk there, Ames.”

Rolling her eyes, Amy squeezes Jake’s hand, linking their fingers together. “All of these are things that would interrupt us, and while I’m still not saying that curses exist, I do think we should try to avoid any temptation for things to go wrong.”

“You’ve put a binder together about this, haven’t you?”

“Not a binder per se, but I’ve definitely done a decent amount of research.” Stopping just shy of the clearing, Amy turns to face her fiancé, wrapping her arms around his waist. “After all, this is the first time we’ve been able to get away since getting engaged. A night away is just what we need, and I’m not letting a thing stop us from taking full advantage of this opportunity.”

Pushing herself up onto her tippy-toes, Amy pecks a quick kiss onto Jake’s lips, satisfyingly noticing their still swollen state from earlier activities. “Besides, if the wind stays like this, I’m going to need something to help keep me warm, Peralta.”

“I’m sure I could think of something,” he mumbles in reply, leaning in for another chaste kiss and groaning when Amy pulls away, grabbing his hand and leading him back towards the camping ground.

Quickly reverting back to their previous positioning - hand over shoulder, arm wrapped around waist - Amy is giggling at something that Jake has just whispered in her ear when Holt comes into sight, raising her free hand in a silent wave as they near him.

“Peralta. Santiago. I’m thankful to have ended up on the same path as the two of you, as it was exactly your presence that I was seeking.”

Pushing a stray lock of hair out of her eye line, Amy nods. “Jake and I went for a walk and must have lost track of the time, sir.” From beside her, Jake subtly nudges his hip into her own, and she resists the urge to elbow him in the ribs. “What did you need us for? Do you need a hand with your tent?”

Wincing, Holt shakes his head slowly. “Ahh, no. Unfortunately, it would appear that your tent was not as securely fastened to the camping ground as previously suggested.”

Amy feels Jake’s hand slide down her back as it falls away - much like their hopes for the rest of the evening would soon do - and she looks over at her superior, confused. “Captain?”

Turning, Holt points through the clearing towards the river, where in the fading light Amy and Jake can faintly make out the tip of their tent as it floats further away from solid ground.

Oh.

“The trouble with openings such as this, is that the prevailing weather meets very little resistance - and so as the wind has grown stronger we have all had to readjust our footings in regards to our own domiciles. Regrettably, such distractions meant that the rapidly loosening fixtures on your tent went unnoticed by the squad. Your lodging managed to catch the wind and set itself adrift on the water before anybody had a chance to attempt recovery.”

Running a hand down his face, Jake lets out a frustrated groan. “Looks like we’re roughing it in the dirt tonight, babe.”

“Weren’t our sleeping bags in the tent as well?” Amy responds, her face falling as Jake nods slowly.

Holt raises his hand, clearly intending to stop the couple from spiralling into total hopelessness. “Fortunately, Kevin and I recently purchased a two room tent that has the ability to sleep ten people, which provides plenty of room for the two of us and Cheddar. Provided you have an adequate amount of your allergy medication with you, Santiago, we can relocate him to our side of the canvas and offer you shelter for the evening. Perhaps in the morning, we will be able to organise a retrieval of your now absent tent.”

Resting his hand on the small of Amy’s back, Jake nods once again. “There’s a spare packet in our bags, which thankfully are still in the common area.”

“Very well. Follow me, then. Kevin has already begun making provisions for your stay, and I’m sure your earlier activities have left you eager for rest.”

Thankful, but also more than a little bit crushed that their plans had fallen apart so swiftly, Jake and Amy follow their captain through the campsite with fallen shoulders.

Jake waits until Holt has passed through the mesh lining into their other ‘room’ before muttering low enough for only Amy’s ears to pick up - “The No Nookie Curse strikes again.”

And truthfully, Amy cannot come up with a single rebuttal - choosing instead to cup her fiancé’s face, and offer a soft kiss in commiseration. Perhaps curses were real, after all.

(seriously, how do those guys do it?)

Attempt Number 5: Romance on the beach

“I’m telling you, Ames. There has to be a secret propellor or something under there. There just has to be. I literally cannot think of any other way.”

Her shoulders shaking from all the laughter, Amy reaches out to rest her arms on either side of her husband’s neck and breaks her chuckle for a kiss. “I know, babe. You’re totally right.”

“I just … how else do they do it?”

Shaking her head, Amy breaks out into another round of laughter, keeping her grip tight so that Jake knows it isn’t directed at him (but rather, the situation at hand).

The Hamptons was their address for the next three days, the location of choice for Tony and his partner Luella’s upcoming wedding. In true Peraltiago Vacation style, emergency renovations to the widespread home that all Santiago siblings were staying in had meant that they were short one room, and Jake and Amy had been the lucky couple to be allocated the sofa bed in the living room as their place of rest.

(A fact that, once broken to them, had led to Jake coughing the word Cursed! under his breath, and in all honesty - this time Amy knew he was absolutely right.)

Fresh from their honeymoon (which, once their captain had left them in peace, had involved a lot of sex … amazingly mind-blowing, sometimes costumed sex - which only served to prove that the international waters clause of the curse still held strong), both of them had entered holiday mode with a renewed vigour to finally set things straight.

Having a sunken living room, with a wraparound balcony looking down at them from above for a bedroom, led to Jake thinking creatively - pulling Amy towards the beach on the first evening, lifting her into his arms and running both of them straight into the ocean.

It was the stuff of fantasies: floating in the water with the one you heart adored, holding onto each other tightly as you make love, the waves lapping around you and the world disappearing for just a little while. The kind of scene that every person has seen in a movie, or read in a book, and one that the newlyweds had actually intended to try on their honeymoon before realising that the beaches surrounding their hotel were rarely secluded enough for such activities.

The reality, however, was vastly different - with the two quickly realising that the art of treading water, while clinging to each other and trying desperately not to drown, did not a sexy tryst make.

It was mid-kiss that Jake finally broke away, sputtering out “Are the guys in all the movies secretly dolphins or something?”, all the while pushing frantic strokes through the water in an effort to stay afloat; causing Amy to burst into laughter - tears streaking down your face, ribs sore from all the shaking kind of laughter - clinging to her husband like a koala as he slowly walked them back towards the shore.

Joining Amy in her mirth, Jake leads her over to the towels that he’d dumped on the sand earlier, spreading them out haphazardly and pulling his wife down to meet him. “Okay, so now we know. Sex in the water = not as easy as it looks.”

Thankful to have chosen a dress for their intended walk on the beach, Amy lifts the wet fabric from her thigh, squeezing out a small fountain of water as she gives Jake a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, babe. It was definitely worth a shot - and bonus points for spontaneity. Very hot.”

Jake’s hand comes to rest on her bared thigh, stroking her skin gently before leaning in for a kiss. “It’s easy to find reasons for spontaneous sex, when you have a wife as hot as I do.”

“Mmm,” Amy moans into his mouth, abandoning the skirt and letting it fall back down with a splat. The sand beneath the towel shifts as she digs her knees in; scrambling closer to Jake to deepen the kiss, knowing all too well that her horniness level was still sitting low on simmer.

She breaks the kiss to nibble on Jake’s earlobe as his hand slides further up the dress, fingertips sliding over her butt, and Amy climbs onto his lap, lifting her hips slightly in silent invitation. Her underwear slides down a moment later, lifting her knees and then her ankles until they’re being tucked into Jake’s pocket, and she takes advantage of the freedom by grinding down on his growing erection.

Despite the cool sea water still dripping down her skin, Jake’s hands feel warm as he moves to caress her once more, palm digging into her derriere as he pulls her in for a heavy kiss, and suddenly Amy thinks she’s beginning to understand all the reasons why ‘sex on the beach’ is such a popular term.

Jake’s fingers caress her folds shortly after, dipping one finger in before following with another, and it's everything Amy has been craving for, her husband’s lips leaving a trail of kisses along her jawline while she writhes on his lap.

It’s only as his hand pulls away, and her hips continue to sway closer to Jake’s body, that a whole other sensation begins to form. Yanking her mouth away from the hickey she’d been creating on Jake’s neck, Amy presses a hand to his chest and whispers - “Jake! The sand.”

“Mmm, yeah. All soft and warm, it’s kinda hot.”

Shaking her head, Amy rears back further, only to let out a sharp cry. “No, Jake! I think the sand has gotten into … places.”

He blinks, shaking himself out of his makeout stupor. “Wait. Ames, are you okay?”

“My vagina is on fire, babe.”

Scrambling upwards, Jake reaches out to help Amy stand, wincing at her obvious discomfort. “Do you want to go back into the water?”

Amy shakes her head quickly. “I need a shower, pronto. Oh god, I can feel all the little grains scraping.”

“Oh no, it would have been on my hands, and then I … I’m so sorry, Ames.” Turning, Jake presents his back to her, bending lower. “Here, jump up and I’ll carry you back to the house and straight into the shower. I’m so sorry, babe."

His hands dig into her lower thigh as Amy rests her upper body against her husband’s back, pressing her forehead into his shoulder blade and letting out a groan. “Okay universe, we get it! The No Nookie curse is real!”

“It’s real and it sucks!” Jake’s voice comes out in a huff as he rushes through the sand, grateful that they hadn’t strayed too far from the house.

“Ugh, why have people named a drink after this?!”

Part 2:

(and the 1 time they’re successful)

(I'm definitely seeing stars)

Jake’s grip on his wife’s hand holds strong as he leads her up to the highest point of the house, pausing at the base of the final set of stairs and gesturing for her to take the lead. Amy gives him a curious look as she passes him, clearly intrigued, and he whispers a compliment directed at her butt (always a favourite) as they both begin their ascent.

Holt and Kevin’s vow renewal ceremony was (finally!) taking place this coming weekend, and the squad - plus partners and children alike - had all convened earlier today at their allocated accommodation in the Berkshires.

The house - like many in the surrounding neighbourhood - was larger than the precinct and all of their homes combined; stretching out into various wings and drawing the eye upward with it’s high ceilings and exposed stonework. This time, Jake and Amy had gone to great lengths to ensure they were allocated their own room towards the opposite end of the home, large enough to accommodate a now eight months old Mac while also ensuring a modicum of privacy - a concept dearly treasured, after so many disastrous attempts.

Exhausted after a full day of sticking to a rigid schedule of rehearsals and preparations alike, Jake had waited until they’d been able to lull their son to sleep in his travel cot before luring Amy into the hallway with the promise of a surprise; and he’s not entirely sure if it his proposal to her several years ago that finally got Amy on board with his surprises, or if it was just indicative of the trust he’d been able to earn - but either way, she follows eagerly with an excited grin.

He hears the excited gasp that escapes her mouth as the door at the top swings open, the full extent of his plan coming to fruition as Amy moves further into the landing and turns to him with eyes that sparkled. “Jake … this is amazing!”

Tucking both hands into his pockets, Jake puts on his best humble brag face as he joins his wife in the centre of the alcove. “So I did a little research on this place before we got here, and as it turns out the owner/builder was a massive fan of stargazing.” Nodding towards the low set walls that wrapped around the base, he turns to Amy with a proud grin. “They’d built this landing solely for that purpose. And tonight, it is our little hideaway.”

Amy’s eyes soften as she takes in the surrounding tea light candles, the blow-up mattress covered in blankets and pillows in the middle of it all, and the bottle of wine still chilling in a bucket of ice to the side. “Wow, babe. You really pulled out all the stops on this one.”

“One could say .. a whole binders worth of preparation.”

Her head swivels towards him, and he grins triumphantly. “You made a binder for this?”

“You haven’t even heard the best part. The door we just went through is the only way in or out, and I have the key right here in my pocket. Rosa has stepped in to keep an eye on Mac, and has promised that she will only call if it’s an emergency. She also seems to have figured out what we are doing up here, and appears to be equal parts impressed and disgusted.”

Amy nods, moving closer and resting her hands on either side of Jake’s neck.

“Holt and Kevin are off with Laverne, Charles and Genevieve have taken Nikolaj camping half an hour away, and Terry and Sharon are exhausted from chasing after their kids all day. Hitchcock and Scully had both an apple pie and a cake after dinner, so I can only assume that they’ve slipped into some sort of post-sugar high coma.” Leaning in to press a soft kiss at the edge of Amy’s lips, Jake pulls away with a grin. “What I’m saying, my darling, is that there is almost no chance of us getting interrupted.”

Moving closer still, Amy wraps both arms around Jake’s neck, carding her fingers through his slightly overgrown curls as she draws him in for a heart-pounding kiss. “Looks like we’re kicking a certain curse’s butt tonight.”

Nodding, Jake initiates another kiss, waiting until he feels Amy melt completely in his arms before grazing his lips along the edge of her cheek, peppering tiny kisses in their wake. “While I am definitely looking forward to breaking the curse, this is mainly just me wanting you to feel good, babe.”

“Mmm. I’d say you’re on the right track.”

His teeth scrape lightly against her earlobe as he lets out a soft laugh, pulling their bodies closer together. “You work so hard, Ames .. and you do so much for Mac and I. You deserve to have a holiday, and really relax.” Continuing the path paved earlier, Jake reaches the juncture of her neck and swipes his tongue against her warm skin. “Let me make you feel good, babe.”

Amy lets out a moan, Jake’s hands wandering down the front of her jeans, cupping her centre through the fabric and rubbing with a slow rhythm; and he pulls away with a sly grin.

“There is one tiny detail that we need to take into consideration, actually.” Raising one hand, Jake gestures towards the open design of the landing. “Out here it’s just you, me and the stars … and sound travels like crazy.” He drops a tender kiss to her lips, leaving the intimation of both his and hers tendency to get a little loud during sex unspoken. “In fact, you could even say it’s - ” leaning in, he flips into his Best Sexy Tone - “omnidirectional.”

“Oh, mama …”

“We’re going to have to try really hard to stay quiet, babe.” Tightening his grip around her waist, Jake lowers his body slightly and Amy picks up on the queue, wrapping her legs around her husband as he moves them towards the blankets. He lowers her carefully, shaking his head in wonder as she gazes back up at him: looking like some kind of heavenly creation amongst the mixture of candlelight and stars. “I’m so in love with you, Amy Santiago.”

A soft blush creeps onto her cheeks, and Amy crooks her finger in a silent request for her husband’s presence, sinking her teeth into her lower lip as he covers her body with his own. “I love you too, Jake.”

Her hips tilt marginally upwards, rubbing her body against the fabric of Jake’s own jeans as she reaches for his fly, making quick work of the barriers as her hand slides inside to grip his rapidly growing erection. Quick to follow suit, Jake pulls away from their embrace only to tug both his and Amy’s jeans off completely, casting both of their tops and underwear aside haphazardly and mentally congratulating his earlier decision to use battery-powered candles over real ones. Setting fire to the highest point of a house is a great way to kill a mood - and ruin a wedding - and there wasn’t a single way that he was going to let the two of them be interrupted tonight.

His erection rubs against Amy’s naked thigh as he covers her body once again, sweeping his hand over her curves as his hand heads directly to her centre. He covers her mouth with his own while his fingers begin to explore, taking in the moisture they find and gently massaging just the way Amy loves. Her hips sway beneath Jake’s torso, working with his deft touch as her hand moves to circle his cock, squeezing and pumping slowly … a familiar move that only made Jake last a full two minutes the last time she tried it.

The two of them are straight-up moaning by now, rotating between messy kisses and heated breaths against shoulders and necks as they both work each other up with expert precision. Contorting his back, Jake moves to sink his teeth into the edge of Amy’s right breast, desperate for a taste of her arousal but knowing all too well that if he moves too far away from her mouth, his wife will begin to really cry out, and the risk of exposure was just too great.

Instead, he slides back up to press his lips against hers, the desire obvious as his bare crotch ruts against her own. Amy’s responding moan is stuttered, her attempts to keep everything quiet obvious, and he grins.

“You’re doing so well at staying quiet, Ames … god you’re so sexy.” Tongue sweeping against hers, absorbing the moans that were gaining in intensity, Jake’s thumb rubs persistently at her clit, matching the tempo of her rotating wrist as they push each other closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh god Jake … fuck me. Fuck me now, fuck me hard.”

Looping his elbow under one of her knees, Jake moves into position and enters Amy in a single thrust, feeling momentarily breathless as the warmth of her surrounds him completely. Her other leg swings around to rest on his butt, holding him close as he pulls out and slams back in again, and truly, this has to be the closest thing to heaven.

Pressing one hand into the base of the landing, Jake pushes down for leverage as he returns his right hand to Amy’s clit - resuming the circled patterns he’d initiated earlier - and Amy sinks her teeth into Jake’s shoulder as she comes with a muffled shout. The feeling of her walls pulsing around his cock makes him descend into a state of almost madness, increasing the intensity of his thrusts until it’s all just pure instinct, chasing the euphoric high but nowhere near ready for any of this to end.

Slipping her other leg from his grip, Amy digs her fingers into Jake’s shoulders as she rolls him onto his back, keeping their hips joined as much as possible to avoid any chance of disruption. Her body is slick with sweat as she rises above him, planting her hands on his chest and looking down at her husband with a flushed and satisfied grin, rising and falling as she takes over Jake’s steady pace.

“This is the best idea you’ve ever had,” she whispers, leaning down to circle her tongue over his nipples, sucking a love bite into his pec as she goes. “Fuck, this feels so good.” Rising again, Amy leans back until her hair is trailing down her spine, and the sight in front of him nearly pushes Jake over the edge completely.

She looked so incredible like this, bare and open and clearly just letting her body take over as she swivels her hips into his thrusts, his cock glistening with her arousal as she slides up and down. Jake has known, for a long time now, that there is nobody in the world that could ever be as beautiful as Amy Santiago, and tonight only serves to solidify his belief.

There’s a bit more of a curve to her skin now, a soft swell to her belly that stands as proof of the their amazing son; and he knows that at times she feels self-conscious of the changes she cannot control, but he fell in love with Amy for a million reasons, and her body was only one of them. His body has changed as well, after all; and probably will again over the course of the next fifty years, and there is nothing that will ever change the way they feel about each other.

He tents his legs to a low degree behind her, offering support as his hands begin to cover every expanse of her body, thumbing the inverted arch of her breasts with reverence as they bounce against their joint movements. Jake's not sure if he’ll ever win the lottery, but it’s clear that he’s already reached the jackpot right here in this moment, watching Amy hurtle ever closer to another orgasm.

It’s the faltered breaths and the occasional stilling of her hips that tells Jake that his wife is nearly there, and with gentle coaxing she falls forward again, mashing her lips against his as their chests press together. Knowing that this is an angle that both of them enjoy, Jake digs his fingers into Amy’s butt as he lifts his hips off the ground, hammering into Amy as the steady motion presses her clit against his pelvis, whispering her name over and over as her fingers grip his hair by the roots. Her body begins to shake, followed by a whisper of babe I’m close, and Jake pushes his body a degree or two higher.

There’s a sharp sting against his skin as Amy comes, her mouth clamped over the edge of his shoulder as the need to scream is just too powerful, the vibrations of her moans reverberating into his intoxicated mind. The sheer mixture of pleasure and pain is all Jake needs to let go completely, pouring himself inside his wife as calls out her name without suppression, and Amy’s hand clamps quickly over his mouth before the sound of his climax can travel too far.

It takes a long while for either Jake or Amy to be able to speak, their bodies a jumble mess as they struggle to catch their breath, the silence only broken as Amy cranes her neck back towards the sky and gasps - “Wow, you really can see so many stars from here!”

From beside her Jake nods, still partially in a state of seeing stars of his own as his heart begins to return to a normal pace. He lets out a gradual sigh as Amy shifts closer to him, curling her arm around his waist and tucking her head into his shoulder.

Wrapping his left arm around her naked body (he’s not sure there’ll ever be a time when he will ever have enough of it), Jake raises his right hand for a high five. “We did it, Ames. We broke the curse.”

Amy’s responding laugh is loud, and probably carried over the grounds, but Jake doesn’t care at all anymore, and she meets his hand with a triumphant slap. “Yeah we did! Suck it, universe!”

His grip grows tighter, seizing the blanket with the tips of his fingers and sliding it over their skin before his wife has a chance to feel the coolness of the night’s sky. He knows that they should probably head downstairs soon, sneak back into their bedroom and relieve Aunty Roro of her babysitting duties, but the afterglow of this moment feels too sweet to give away - Mac has been sleeping through the night for a solid two months now, and he knows that if anything had gone wrong they’d have known well before now.

Amy’s lips ghost against his bicep as she lets her eyelids flutter close for a moment (a post-sex power nap often needed, rarely lasting longer than thirty minutes), and Jake smiles at the sight, letting her nestle in to his embrace as he gazes through the glass ceiling above them to watch the stars.

He already knows that he won’t be able to find anything brighter than their future up there in the darkness, but for now, he’s content to watch the world pass them by for just a little bit longer.

#I hope you like this!#best of both worlds with the smut and fluff again #b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #my writing #Peraltiago smut #Peraltiago fluff #b99fic #b99 fic

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beyondconfessor · 4 years ago

Text

Principle Decisions [4/24]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman

Summary: “Ask me nicely,” she whispered, her hand coming to brush across Zelda’s cheek. “Ask me to do unspeakable things to you.”

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.

“Professor Spellman?” Prudence asked as she knocked on the doorframe to her work office. “I booked an appointment for eleven?”

Zelda nodded and gestured to the chair in front of her. Prudence stepped forward into the room, moving to sit in the seat before the desk, setting her bag down beside her. She waited until Zelda paled down her pen before she sat laced her hands together and leant forward in the chair, seeming to be agitated by something.

“What can I help with you, Prudence?”

“I was hoping you might have a TA position available.”

Zelda frowned. Despite her best attempts, the Department Head had been unwilling to provide her with the required funding. “Nothing paid,” she advised.

“I don’t need a paid position,” Prudence said, though Zelda could see her deflate over the response. “There’s an opportunity next year to go to Greece, expenses paid with Professor Blackwood, but you need to have some TA experience before you can obtain the position.”

Zelda nodded, familiar with the program. “I can give you a recommendation and place in a good word with Professor Blackwood if that’s what you after from this?”

“It is,” Prudence advise. There was a keen look about her and Zelda softened.

“Well, I could use the extra hands. It would be after hours, on top of your own workload, and I’d still expect you to be pulling the same marks you are now. If I don’t think you can handle it, I’ll cease your involvement immediately.”

Prudence nodded. “I can handle it,” she assured.

“In that case,” Zelda reached into the depth of her desk, pulling out a familiar sheet she had, back when Language had funding from the university, “here, fill this in and you can come back to me tomorrow.”

Prudence brightened, reaching out. “Thank you, Professor. It’s most appreciated.”

Zelda nodded, handing the slip of paper over and watched as Prudence took her bag and left, looking pleased with herself. The position Prudence required for the following year would be fully funded if she continued to keep her marks high. Zelda wasn’t sure why she wanted the position. Although Prudence showed an aptitude for language, the study its self was based around anthropological––Faustus’ domain.

Perhaps it was just for the thrill of going to Greece and having her expenses paid. If that was the case, Zelda could hardly fault Prudence. She, herself, had gone across most of the continents to complete her doctorate, whilst simultaneously engaging in the cultures far more than a PhD required.

If she was honest with herself, she missed travelling, seeing new people, slipping into bed with a new paramour or two. Once Sabrina was in college, she might consider travelling again. Wander through the middle east and return to the northern Africa countries, or perhaps try somewhere she hadn’t gone.

“Zelda,” a knock sounded at her door. Zelda capped her pen and looked up. Prudence had been a planned interruption, but Faustus was another thing entirely. Perhaps he’d sensed her thoughts.

“Yes?” she asked, smiling tightly as he stepped into the room.

“Shirley has gone on unexpected leave for a few weeks. I understand a family member is in palliative care and she’s been advised to spend time with them before their passing.” He paused there as if to allow her a chance to speak some sympathetic nonsense, but the truth was it was for Shirley, so she didn’t care what the woman was feeling. Zelda tilted her head, waiting for him to continue speaking.

In the lack of a response, Faustus coughed, clearing his throat awkwardly.“I need you to cover her classes.”

Zelda’s eyes narrowed. “Their religious studies,” she advised.

“You double-majored in language and religion,” Faustus pointed out. “Wasn’t your most recent article on the original Hebrew texts in the context of its time?”

That was an oversimplification of what her last article had been about, it’d been about a specific passage, first and foremost, and had been about the evolution of language––but she didn’t articulate that, instead of drawing back in her seat to stare at Faustus. She was proficient in religious studies, but it wasn’t an area she enjoyed teaching in just as Shirley preferred religion and didn’t enjoy languages despite completing her associates on one of the romantic languages.

“Is there no one else?” she asked. “I already have a full schedule with my office hours.”

“I’ve checked your roster, and you have room on Monday and Friday. You don’t need to change your office hours.”

No, but she used those days for marking, as well as other administrative work. Perhaps it was beneficial that Prudence had reached out.

“How long is it for?” she asked.

“Six weeks at most.”

Six weeks, Zelda bit her tongue to stop from snapping back. “I’ll need funding for a TA until she returns then.”

Faustus’ mouth parted before he nodded. “I can find some funding.”

There, Zelda relaxed. Well, that would at least be helpful towards Prudence. If the girl was working, she might be able to ease her external shifts to help with the overflow and marking. “Thank you, Faustus. Send over what you have from Shirley, and I’ll compose a lesson plan for next week.”

“I…need you to start this Friday.”

Zelda felt her a tension return to her as she stared down at the grain in her desk, biting back any sharp comment.

She’d booked an appointment on Sunday for her Doctor’s appointment––mostly because she was overdue––but in part, if she was honest, she was intrigued as to what Lilith had to offer.

Since the Saturday, she’d been more relaxed than ever, and now she could feel that frustration returning, like an itch under her skin she couldn’t quite scratch. She wanted to scream or yell or just do something, but she couldn’t.

So she smiled at Faustus, and agreed to take on a class that she needed to prep for with only four days notice, and tried to remind herself that all of this would eventually lead to further career progression.

Besides, if she managed to take over the class and show them what a proper education looked like, she might find as well that Shirley was suddenly out of a job, leaving her and other competent academics to teach the up and coming minds of Greendale University.

“Thank you, Zelda,” Faustus said with a nod, before leaving. He left her office door wide open, and once Zelda was sure his footsteps had receded down the hall, she rose to her feet and closed the door behind him before returning to her seat.

Her nails drummed on the desk, as she rolled her shoulders and neck, trying not to remember how the sting of the crop had felt against her skin. She didn’t want to book another appointment, especially not one so soon, and especially not after running into that woman in the grocery store.

No, she needed to wait.

She reached into her drawer and picked out her cigarettes. Standing up, she walked over to the office window and inched it open. Lighting the cigarette, she stood by the window sill and blew out gusts of smoke outside watching it curl away into the air.

Six weeks wasn’t that long. A month and two weeks. She could handle the pressure of looking after that many classes, despite the headache it would inevitably cause.

And yet Friday came faster than she expected. Prudence eagerly took to the position of TA (and was all the more pleased when Zelda mentioned she managed to find some funding to help) providing Zelda with some time actually to work on the lesson plan. It meant she spent long nights in the office and had to miss out on attending Sabrina’s first cheerleading stint for football or basketball or whatever game she was cheerleading for, but that was a small sacrifice.

She promised her niece that she would attend the charity event in a fortnight, finding time in the workday to make it over to the school.

Besides, she could still attend her pep rally (whenever that was), and there would be other high school games of school sport she could attend and watch her niece cheerlead for. What was one game?

The lesson was a second-year subject, and the information Faustus had managed to send over was difficult to understand. Although there was a general framework of what they were studying, Zelda had no idea as to the messages Shirley was trying to convey or discuss with the class.

So when it came time for Zelda to attend, there was an anxious knot in her stomach. She’d prepped the best she could, but it would be up to the class to let her know where they were up to.

“Good Morning,” she said as she walked into the classroom. On the whiteboard, she wrote her name as Professor Spellman, before setting her lesson plan on the stand and looked over the class. There were far more students than Zelda expected, many of them she’d never seen before.

Shirley’s class was more popular than she realised.

“I’ll be taking over Professor Jackson’s role while she’s on leave. Can anyone tell me as to where you last left off?”

A few students explained to where they were, and Zelda felt her chest ease and knot differently. The students listened, they were aware of where they were up to, but furthermore, they were invested in the coursework.

She left the class satisfied that she’d managed to express what Shirley intended, bringing across her own influence, but also left with a sour taste in her mouth.

Should she think on it any further, she might find herself scratching at the idea until she made herself raw with deep-seated feelings she’d long left ago in her childhood.

It couldn’t be that Shirley Jackson was a better teacher than herself? It had to be that the nature of the course that religion drew in more subjects than language did (especially at Greendale University, which, although known for having its merits was not known to be the best or worst by any means).

Zelda felt her frustration grow. A solemn ache growing in her chest––could it be that she was the reason her third-year classes were skeletal at the best of times?

Perhaps she had done the wrong thing? Pushed when she should have nurtured––not that she could see Shirley being nurturing by any means, but…she must be doing something right if her classes were as full as they were.

Zelda seethed quietly, feeling the jealousy gnaw at her as she returned to her office and collected her work for the evening. Sabrina had already informed her that Harvey would be dropping her off home, so there was no need to wait for her niece to arrive. Her office hours were finished. The only reason she’d want to stay was to build a quiet time for herself, away from the bustling of Hilda in the kitchen or Ambrose rumbling through whatever music he wanted whilst he remained up in the attic.

Pausing as she set her work into her bag, she realised that home was not something she wanted either. Her body ached and itched, as nervous energy pulling under her skin.

But she didn’t want to call Lilith.

No, that wasn’t true. She desperately wanted to call and see if Lilith had availability, she just wished she didn’t want it. The last thing she desired was coming off…needy.

But…it was a service like any other, and should Zelda had found relief from a spa, she would not feel so conflicted about calling to book in a new appointment.

Zelda had spent the last few evenings trying to avoid thinking about the woman, and yet every masturbation ended up inevitably daydreaming about the woman’s riding crop on her back, her hand splayed over her chest, the idea of running into her and having the woman shover her against the next available surface and––

Someone walked past her office door, shoes clicking on the polished floor.

She cleared her throat, a blush rising over her chest and face as if her thoughts were too loud and that someone could overhear them––entirely ridiculous, and yet she stuffed the thoughts away.

Sex. She just needed sex. Casual sex, no strings attached. She flicked through the contacts in her head, trying to think of someone, but all of her ex-paramours she trusted for casual sex were now monogamous or out of state (and in some instances, out of the country).

It’d been two years. Surely she could get a handle of herself and push her needs away, focus on her article or at the very least, get a head-on lesson planning. There was more than one vibrator home should she really need to scratch an itch.

Zelda packed her bags, planning to return home to her office to work on her article. She had every intention of going home, completing tasks that needed to get done, and then having a sit-down meal with her family.

It was a good plan.

She definitely wasn’t thinking about Lilith.

She walked to her car, bag in hand, certain that if she just managed to get into the car, she’d be able to drive out of the parking lot, onto the main road and make her way back home. But evidently not, because as soon as she was in her car, her phone was out in hand and she was dialling a number that she had no right in knowing so well.

“Good Afternoon,” Lilith said. Too late, Zelda realised she’d dialled from her personal phone, and now the woman likely had her number.

If she hung-up, Lilith could just call back and even if she didn’t answer, her voicemail clearly dictated who she was. “Good evening,” Zelda responded before the woman could clip a follow-up response.

“Zelda,” the woman purred. “I thought it was you.”

“And why would you think that?”

“You’ve been on my mind,” she responded. “How can I be of service?”

Zelda drew in a breath. “I––“ she began and then because she’d begun she had to finish, “was looking to enquire into your services. Again.”

“Mm. And which services are you after?”

Not this again, Zelda thought as she rolled her eyes up to the ceiling of the car. “The same services.”

“You’ll have to refresh my memory,” Lilith teased, and Zelda’s grip on her phone tightened.

Drawing in a breath, she found her eyes flicking around the car, to the rearview and side mirrors before she said. “Dominatrix services.”

“I’m going to need you to be more specific. Many things fall under that particular umbrella.”

“Honestly,” Zelda clipped, seriously considering clicking off the device before the woman’s warm laugh poured through the speaker. “If you insist on needlessly teasing me––“

“You’re in luck. I have a spot free in about two hours if that suits?”

Zelda paused. It seemed too good to be true. And yet…the ache filled her. She wanted it more than she wanted anything else at that moment.

“It does,” she agreed.

“I look forward to seeing you. Have a think about how long you want the session to run. I have a few ideas of what we can do.” And then the phone clicked off, and Zelda was left with the words swimming around her head.

A few ideas. What on earth could that mean?

Zelda closed her eyes and sunk in the seat, biting her lip. Her gynaecologist appointment wasn’t until tomorrow and results would likely not occur for another week. Yet, the idea of even just experiencing the impact of that crop again brought a shiver down her spine.

She went home, showered and changed into a new set of lingerie before fixing her make-up again. And then she was making a passing excuse about forgetting something in the office before she was leaving again, advising Hilda to set her dinner aside.

She was fifteen minutes early, sitting in her car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she tried to understand just how she got to this stage.

She was outside of a dominatrix’s business address, dressed in lingerie and a new dress, with more effort into how she looked than when she went into the actual office. Was this her life now? Finding herself driving out into the middle of nowhere to get spanked?

Apparently so, because as she fixed her lipstick in the rearview mirror, there was a telltale sign of a blush rushing across her cheeks.

She grabbed her handbag and exited the car, locking it behind her as she walked up to the apartment and rang the doorbell.

And then there was silence as she counted her heartbeat for five seconds before she heard the sound of Lilith’s heels on the hardwood floor of the hallway.

A shadow moved behind the door and then it opened, revealing the grinning dominatrix. Her hair was out again, though it looked recently tussled like she’d ran her fingers through it before opening the door.

Zelda drew in a breath, feeling herself battle between shrinking away and pushing forward to assert her own dominance.

And then Lilith was leaning against the doorframe, eyebrow cocked as she waited for Zelda to break the growing silence between them––just as she had at the grocers. Damn her.

“Evening,” Zelda clipped.

“Evening,” Lilith teased in return, unmoving as her eyes raked over her body, a slow, noticeable breath pulling into her lungs as if she couldn’t wait to devour her.

Zelda felt as if the air warmed around them. “Well?”

“Hmm?” Lilith said, eyes flicking back up to Zelda’s.

“Are you going to let me in or should I recall some password?”

“Ohh, I like the idea of a secret password. What do you think it is?”

Annoyance flared in her as she crossed her arms, having half a mind to turn on her heel and leave, but before she could even threaten that option, Lilith laughed, pushing off the door frame and stepped out of the way to allow her entrance.

Zelda gave an icy glare, ensuring the woman saw how unimpressed she was as she stepped inside and removed her coat. It warm inside, and already she felt overdressed.

Lilith stepped closer, and Zelda held her ground, refusing to give in to the urge to step away. And then she felt the woman reach behind her and shut the door. “You look well,” Lilith commented. “Less…frightened.”

Zelda felt a flare of anger grow inside of her. “I beg your pardon. I was not frightened.”

“At the grocers you were. I could have said boo, and you would have run away screaming…or maybe just melt in a puddle on the floor,” she added, her eyes intensely focusing on Zelda’s mouth as she spoke. “Difficult to say.”

Zelda felt a strangled breath jump in her throat before she looked away, resisting the urge to cough awkwardly.

“Have anything for me?” Lilith enquired, as she stepped forward again. This time, Zelda did take a step back, knowing exactly what she was asking.

“I––have an appointment tomorrow,” she admitted.

Lilith’s grin widened. “You won’t regret it, and personally I can say that I’m looking forward to it,” and then she was stepping back and suddenly Zelda was following her upstairs, into the bedroom.

The bedroom door was shut behind her, the ottoman bench was opened, the phone was switched off, bag and coat went inside, and then Lilith was staring at her as the lid was flicked down.

“Do you know what you want?”

Zelda felt her heart pound in her chest. She didn’t know exactly what she wanted. She wanted last time, but she wanted it to be different. She wanted to forget about the world and yet feel alive. “I trust you,” she said instead.

Lilith nodded, seeming to hold back from teasing her. “I have an idea.”

“Do you now?” Zelda asked, curious as to what the woman could possibly be thinking.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” Lilith said as she walked over to her dresser and opened it up. “I think I know exactly what you want.”

Anyone else, and Zelda would have rolled her eyes, but as she watched the woman draw out two lengths of rope and a blindfold, she found herself only further intrigued. This time, Lilith didn’t set it on the bed; instead, she dropped the items in the centre of the room, before nudging them with her heel, so they rested where she wanted it.

Zelda stared at the items, looking to the wardrobe and finding herself both relieved and disappointed to note there was nothing from there on the floor.

“Take off your dress,” Lilith said.

Zelda obeyed, unzipping underneath her arm and then rolling it down her waist to the floor where she stepped out of it. Lilith looked her over, taking note of the stockings, to where her eyes held where the hemline of the silk was.

“That one is to come off too,” she said, pointing to the slip.

Zelda felt something quiver, low in her belly as she reached down and lifted the slip off. When she dropped that to the ground as well, she watched as Lilith’s face broke out in a wide smile, seeming to admire her choice in lingerie.

“This one involves more patience,” Lilith advised. “Put your clothes away, heels too, and then we’ll begin.”

Zelda bit her inner cheek, hating how the woman made her feel like a child as she picked her clothes up off the floor and set them nicely in the ottoman, her heels placed inside of her handbag before she came to stand before Lilith.

“Do you remember your safe word from last time?”

“I do.”

“What is it?”

“Music box,” Zelda said, feeling ridiculous as she said it. But as Lilith mentioned last time, the point of the word was to be jarring, so that both of them knew that it needed to end.

“I’m going to tie you up, and then we’ll see where you’re at when you’re tied up, and if you’re still comfortable, I’m going to blindfold you.”

“And then what?” Zelda asked.

“And then we’ll see how badly you want it.”

Want what, Zelda wanted to ask, but she nodded to show she understood. Lilith grinned and then pointed to the floor, her expression sharpened, as with condescension in her voice, she ordered, “On your knees." Zelda felt the command slip over her as she pressed onto her knees, feeling the hardwood floor press against her legs.

She watched then as Lilith drew a short wooden stool over and set it down before her, before she sat upon it and crossed her legs, looking far more elegant than she had any right to.

“If you ever want to learn to do this, I can run a workshop,” Lilith said as held a hand out. Zelda placed the back of hand into her palm and watched as the length of red rope was tossed over one wrist. “When I lived in New York, I used to run a workshop with a few others like me.” She held her hand out again, and Zelda provided it. “I’ve been doing rope since I was…oh, a young girl, I suppose.”

“Am I not meant to speak?” Zelda asked, confused as to what game they were playing.

“You can speak,” Lilith nodded. “We’re just setting up, first,” she grinned just as she made a knot. “You’ll know when we’ve begun playing.”

Lilith wove a pattern over her arms, like a spiderweb slipping up her arms, and Zelda listened as she spoke about the different knots she was tied, as well as the different safety precautions she placing in so that at any stage if Zelda wanted to slip out, she could.

It was fascinating in its own right, and Zelda enjoyed watching the complicated knots made and adjusted as if Lilith had been doing them her whole life––which, in a sense, she had. At least for thirty years, she’d been tying up herself and others, just because she liked the look of the knots she could make.

“Are we doing this because of the last session?” Zelda asked, watching as Lilith began drawing the rope over her waist. What she was trying to ask in as few words as possible was, are we not doing impact play because of what occurred.

“Not for the reasons you think,” Lilith said. “You were relaxed when I tied you up. Most people get somewhat panicked at being unable to move, but you seemed entirely at ease.” Her fingers were brushing over her stomach as she spoke, slipping and weaving the rope as one end of it dangle into her lap. “I thought I might indulge the rope bunny in you.”

And then Lilith’s eyes were returning to the rope, her fingers dragging along her skin, the back of her knuckles sliding over her ribs. Zelda drew in a breath, trying to focus on the feeling of the rope against her skin.

“Turn around.”

Zelda moved onto her knees until her back was to Lilith, and felt as the woman drew her hair over her shoulder, before resuming the pattern. Zelda tried to resist the shiver that shot down her spin as Lilith’s hands drew over her, moulding the rope into place.

“So you’ve indulged in ropes from the beginning,” Zelda said in an effort to find a semblance of control. “But what about everything else?”

“You’ll have to be specific,” Lilith said. She paused, and Zelda could feel her hands, just below the band of her bra, she could easily undo it if she wanted to and there was nothing Zelda could to do stop her.

The thought struck through like a rush.

“When did you decide to be a dominatrix?”

Lilith hummed. “It’s not as interesting as you think,” she said, her fingers resuming to shift and adjust, slipping the rope through loops, twisting it around its self. “Girl met boy, boy wanted to try things with girl, girl was much better at it than boy, boy became sulky, so girl left. Tale as old as time its self,” she finished.

Zelda scoffed. “Sounds like most men.”

“Oh yes,” Lilith said and then suddenly Zelda felt a breath brush over her shoulder, a nail drawing over the skin. “Don’t worry, if you take an interest in domination, I’ll be very excited to play with you. I’m very good on my knees.”

Zelda closed her eyes, feeling a heat press through her. She was starting to get an idea as to what Lilith was getting at before.

“There,” Lilith said, and suddenly Zelda felt a kiss press to the back of her shoulder as the woman’s hands dropped away. “Now lie on your back.”

Zelda shifted as much as she could, and then felt Lilith’s hand on her, helping her to ease down on the ground. The woman rose, taking her stool with her and then sat it down by Zelda’s feet as unravelled the second piece of rope. “You’re not done?” Zelda asked.

“I told you, this is about patience. Don’t worry. There will be plenty of time to play with whatever toy you want.”

Zelda looked away, wondering what that meant, and then watched as the woman lifted her foot and began tying it.

In the state of undress, tied up, watching the woman lift one leg to drag it into her lap and focus her attention on it entirely had Zelda’s thoughts reeling in fantasies. The woman was quick with her fingers this time, binding her ankles together.

Except she didn’t stop there.

The rope began slipping up her leg, binding like a fishnet up her right leg, slipping over calves and thighs in loops, and then Zelda had to look away as she felt the woman slip the rope over the highest part of her thigh, a wicked smile on her face.

“There are certain knots you can tie,” Lilith said, while tying a knot on her inner thigh, “That can induce arousal as the occupant squirms in their bindings.”

“I’m aware,” Zelda said, her voice heavy with desire she didn’t mean to carry. “Is that what you’re doing?”

“I can, if you want,” Lilith said, “I can do it so you’ll have no relief from it, too.”

Zelda bit her lip, imaging herself bound and squirming, feeling the rope between her legs rub, but provide nothing but a tease. “And how much would you need to change for either of those?”

“To make you squirm I’d need to adjust it, but I could get you off as it is.”

Zelda laughed. “I’m sure you could with how quick your hands work.”

“Oh, no. You misunderstand, I could make you come without my hands ever touching your vagina.”

Zelda's eyebrows shot up high in disbelief. Lilith may think herself talented, but it took more than well-placed rope to get her climbing to ecstasy.

Lilith’s eyes seemed to catch her, a smirk growing on her face. “That looks like a challenge.”

“You can certainly try, but it won’t work.”

“Is that so?” Lilith asked, and then she was gently placing Zelda’s legs down to the ground. Zelda looked down, noticing that only one leg had the rope go all the way up, whereas the other was only bound at the ankle.

The rope that went around her high thigh was knotted in a way that if she were to twist, possibly she could rub herself against it, but that wasn’t something she planned on doing. She looked up, quirking her eyebrow at the woman as if to ask, is this your worst?

But Lilith only smiled down at her. “If you’d like, I can take a photo. I have a polaroid camera.”

“Absolutely not,” Zelda stated. Like hell, she would allow a picture of herself to be taken.

“I wouldn’t have your face in frame, just the ropes.”

“No,” Zelda said, before adding shortly, “Thank you.”

Lilith seemed to take no offence to it, clearly too pleased by her work as she drew her eyes over Zelda’s body. “All the things I could do to you,” she said, drawing her eyes from head to feet. “And you’d just be begging for me not to stop.”

It was a threat, and yet Zelda felt it tremble through her, a longing pulling at the idea of being at the complete mercy of the woman. She hadn’t done anything, hadn’t so much as kissed her, and yet Zelda yearned to feel her fingers press against her body.

“You won’t though,” Zelda said. “I haven’t provided you with the test results.”

Lilith grinned. “There are a lot of things I could do to you that doesn’t involve taking your underwear off,” she pointed out. “All you have to do is ask.”

What things, she wanted to ask, but bit back the words.

“What are you planning on doing?” she inquired, hoping she didn’t sound as aroused as she was.

Lilith’s eyes drew over her before she crouched down beside her, picking up the blindfold. “First, what I’m going to do is blindfold you.”

Zelda watched, waiting as she thought about the idea of being bound and blind, relying only on her other senses. The anticipation of not knowing…

“And then…we’ll see.”

Lilith placed the blindfold over her eyes, and then settled her back on the ground, combing her fingers once again through her hair. “Remember your safe word?”

“I do.”

“Good girl,” Lilith said, and then there was the sound of her heels walking away. Zelda listened as a drawer was open, and then the creak of wood as the wardrobe was opened as well. There was a noise of something cutting through the air (like a riding crop or a whip, perhaps) and then there was silence. “You’re mine, now Zelda. Be mindful to ask politely for anything you want.”

Zelda swallowed, knowing that she meant that she had to answer correctly, or else be disciplined.

Complete, utter silence followed those words, and Zelda became all the more aware of how excited she was. Genuinely excited, as well as aroused, waiting for the woman to come out and discipline her with the riding crop, or a cane or paddle.

Or her bare hand.

Zelda pressed her thighs together, feeling the rope rub on her bare leg, pressing just below her sex. A part of her wanted to adjust, see if she could move the rope a little higher, but she didn’t. The last thing she needed was Lilith seeing her rutting off to a piece of looped rope.

She paused, feeling something draw against her skin on her leg. It was soft as it slowly slid over her bare leg and down. And then it disappeared.

Zelda hadn’t even heard the woman approach. Likely, she’d taken off her heels to allow her to slip closer and draw over her skin quietly.

Nothing followed, and then suddenly, she felt a shift, and then a weight settle on her hips. Zelda drew in a deep breath, uncertain if the woman had placed something on her, or if she was now straddling her.

Until she felt the woman’s hands draw up her sides, slipping up her ribs. Zelda arched against the rope, her hands splaying out in their bindings as a part of her tried to lean forward to wherever the dominatrix was.

“Relax,” Lilith said. “I won’t do anything like that to you.”

Oh, Zelda realised. Of course, because she hasn’t been tested yet.

“Unless you ask me to.”

Zelda almost moaned, catching in time to clench her jaw shut because there was no way she was going to let this woman know how much of an effect she had on her.

And yet, she felt the spider light touches of a hand drawing up neck, thumb and fingers slipping around the throat and Zelda wondered what it would be like to feel the woman’s hand around her throat, squeezing as she…

She realised too late that her hips had rolled and she’d very intentionally (without realising) pressed firmer against the woman’s straddling body. There was no way that Lilith misinterpreted that, no way she didn’t suspect what it meant.

“Ask me nicely,” she whispered, her hand coming to brush across Zelda’s cheek. “Ask me to do unspeakable things to you.”

Zelda swallowed, she could feel the words there, drawing tight in her chest, building up in her throat. Please, my queen. But she couldn’t say the words. How could she beg for such a thing?

Lilith’s finger swept across her cheek, and Zelda could almost taste here. How close was she to her, was she just hovering above her face. Inches from her own? Was she smirking, watching with interest, or also holding back from kissing her?

She could smell her perfume. Zelda’s mouth parted, watching to tilt her head up and kiss her or hope that she would be kissed in return.

Zelda felt the woman shift on her, leaning forward and although she could feel one hand on her face, and was so very aware of how warm it was, her attention drew to the other as it settled to cup just under her breast in a way that Zelda wondered how easily she could slip under the material and press her fingers to where Zelda could feel her nipples hardening, aching to be touched.

She wanted to whimper as she felt the fingers press against the underwire of her lingerie as if daring her to ask, the thumb edging at it, the hand on her cheek was tilting her head up, and Zelda wasn’t even sure she cared for what part of Lilith her lips touch, so as long as she felt her there.

But the woman’s command sat between them, daring her to respond and ask.

But she wouldn’t beg. She wouldn’t become some animal rutting against the woman, hoping to find relief.

“Ah, I see,” Lilith said with a warm chuckle.

And then, all at once, she was gone. She felt the woman stand up, off from her, and Zelda wished she could push the blindfold off and look at her.

She almost pleaded for Lilith's return, but her tongue held firm, swallowing the words back.

A silence loomed, and despite how her ears pricked, she could not hear Lilith move. The woman was quiet as if she walked from shadow to shadow. For all Zelda knew, she could be standing beside her, watching her move her shoulder, stretching her hands and adjusting her feet, feeling for any movement in the ropes.

There wasn’t any. The ropes held firm.

“My queen?”

“Yes?” the woman asked, and she was closer than Zelda expected. Close enough that she knew she just needed to ask.

She swallowed, “What unspeakable things would you do?”

And then Zelda felt fingers wrap around the rope on her chest, seeming to grab hold of a particular loop that sat below her breasts, in the middle of her chest, as another hand drew behind her head, fisting into her hair.

She was pulled up into a sitting position and before Zelda could do so much as gasp as she felt nails scrape against her scalp, electrifying her nerves. “Do want a taste?”

“Yes.”

She felt the woman’s mouth descend upon hers.

It was an earnest kiss, and then Lilith was straddling her lap again, and Zelda was moaning into her mouth, pressing against her as a tongue swiped over her lips, before teeth bit and tugged, and a mouth sucked, and fingers tugged at her hair until she couldn’t tell between the pain and pleasure.

She wanted to grab at the woman, but her hands were bound and pressed between them, and it was all she could do not to wriggle forward and see if she could brush the rope between Lilith’s thighs (though if happened accidentally…it was hardly her fault).

“Naughty,” Lilith said, and then her mouth was pouring down her jaw, to her neck and across her shoulder. Zelda was trying to remember how long they’d agreed to because right now all she wanted was to feel Lilith rub against her thighs as she continued to kiss her like the world was running out of time.

A hand grabbed at her breast, and then it slid underneath the cup of her bra, the other hand still fisting her hair, tugging her head back, so Zelda’s neck was elongated as Lilith's mouth continued to bite and suck at her shoulder.

It was going to leave a mark, but she didn’t care as a keened whine broke from as she felt her nerves electrify.

Lilith’s hand slid over her nipple, tweaking it, then grasping and pinching it between the length of her fingers.

If she kept doing that, Zelda was going to…to…

She groaned, feeling the rope on her thigh press against her underwear.

“I told you I could get you off without touching your cunt,” Lilith growled into her ear, and Zelda moaned at the words. “But you were so naughty that I don’t think I will.”

“No––“

“No, what?” Lilith enquired.

“Don’t stop.”

“Say, please.”

Zelda shut her jaw, groaning as the hand in her hair tugged again. Even blindfolded, she opened her eyes, wishing she could gaze upon her. She was met with darkness, but even in that, she could feel Lilith's eyes penetrating through, commanding her to just say it.

“Please,” she hissed.

“Good girl,” and the hand on breast squeezed, and Zelda felt the rope pressing against her underwear, rubbing against it as Lilith seemed to rock on her lap.

There was something unholy about the pressure Lilith had with her teeth and tongue on her shoulder like she knew just how to apply it just right as she tugged at her hair at the right moment and pinched at the nipple just right.

Zelda arched into the touch, feeling the pressure build low in her belly, growing with each rocked movement until her hips jerked, rocking over a knot on her thigh and Zelda felt the climax hit her with a sudden, strangled gasp.

It shuddered through her, and she felt the woman’s laugh rumble against her chest as she carried her through it for what felt like too short of a time before the rope became too sensitive and she was jerking her hips away.

The hand in her hair relaxed, and Lilith’s lips trailed against her neck, pressing lightly against the skin as the hand on Zelda’s breast dropped away.

Zelda drew in one breath, and then another, feeling the aftershocks tremble through her before she was placed down on the ground once more. She felt Lilith’s hands rest on either side of her face, before pushing up the blindfold as she flickered her eyes between Zelda’s, studying her.

Zelda pushed up and kissed her, lips pressing to feel the soft intake of breath against her mouth as Lilith tilted her head and sunk against her. Before she could even stop to think about how warm the woman’s lips were on hers, Lilith was pulling away, and Zelda was left to look at her flushed face, feeling thumbs draw against her cheeks bones.

“How do you feel?” Lilith asked.

Zelda nodded, swallowing before she found herself biting back a sharp comment. “Good,” she agreed. “I won’t doubt you again.”

“You and I both know that’s a lie.”

The effects of the orgasm still ran through her and Zelda feel herself the endorphins flooding through her bloodstream. A part of her hungered to do it again, see if Lilith could get her off twice more.

But the woman climbed off and began untying her, and it was all she could to take a breath and breathe, focusing on the way the woman’s fingers unravelled the knots faster than she expected.

The moment she was unbound, the ropes were pulled away, and a strange shyness seemed to overtake Lilith as she spooled the rope, undoing the knots that remained, her eyes look away. Perhaps she felt she’d crossed a boundary, Zelda wondered.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Lilith looked up, and her face softened, “It’s been a while since I’ve tied anyone up like that,” she admitted, though there was more to it. “If you wanted a shower, you could take one,” she said. “I’ll clean up in here and make tea.”

Zelda nodded, feeling the uncomfortable wetness slide between her thighs at the mention of it. Tea would be good, she decided.

She went to the ottoman, picking up her belongings and taking them to the bathroom, where she set them down again on the counter. The towel was different this time, a black towel.

Zelda shut the bathroom door and slid off her clothes, looking into the mirror. There were lines on her back where the rope had pressed as she laid down, but otherwise, the only mark was a growing bruise on her shoulder––easily able to be hidden with the shirts and dresses she wore.

She slid into the shower, finding the temperature warm (and with a surprisingly strong water pressure that beat down her back, soothing knots she didn’t realise she had.)

Taking the showerhead in hand, she washed over her body, cleaning the mess between her thighs. There, the water pressure was prominent in a way she didn’t expect, and Zelda nearly allowed herself to sink in that, finding her arousal growing at the idea of getting off while the woman was in the next room over. But she pushed it away, setting the showerhead back in place and stayed under the spray of water until she had her desire under control.

The woman was a dominatrix first, a sex worker. It was completely understandable that she wanted to feel the woman’s hand relieve the pressure building between her thighs. It was understandable that she was being seduced, but Zelda reminded herself that it was all pretend. A service between two consenting adults.

And if she was going to delve further into that service, actually allow the woman to penetrate her (as she so crassly spoke, likely to get a reaction out of her) then she needed to see it as a service. She was a client, yes, but that did not mean that Lilith was going to take an emotional interest in her suddenly.

She switched off the water, coming out to clean dry herself off before she dressed again (placing the underwear in her handbag, given their ruined state).

She walked downstairs and watched as Lilith finished setting out the items, placing them onto the kitchen table.

There was a tightness to the woman that settled in Zelda’s stomach uncomfortably as she took her seat. When Lilith had finished setting everything aside, the woman sat across from her, a cup of water in hand.

And then a silence sat between them.

Zelda wanted to apologise. She wasn’t sure what the apology was for, perhaps for kissing her, or for not doing the right thing, or whatever it was. But she didn’t say the words; instead, she took a sip of tea and averted her eyes to where the kitchen light flooded over the patio, bringing partial light to the garden.

Something had shifted between them.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Lilith asked, a smile on her lips.

“I did,” Zelda said. “Did you?”

“Always,” Lilith said, but the way she said the word implied otherwise.

“I…” Zelda swallowed thickly, looking away. “I think we should stick to what we did in the first session…if this is to continue.”

Lilith nodded. “You’re the client,” she advised. “Whatever service you want, I’m happy to provide.” The expression remained, and Zelda couldn’t tell if she was relieved, or disappointed or just neutral towards it.

Zelda blinked, adverting her gaze. She was a client, just a client. Lilith was sure to have a dozen more just like her.

Taking a sip of tea, she asked. “How much for the session?”

____________

#lilith #zelda spellman #zelith #madam spellman #caos fanfic #morgans fics #morgan writes

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capricornus-rex · 5 years ago

Text

A Legacy Begun (11 - End)

Chapter 11: The Spark of Hope | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: After a long time of running and fighting, you and Cal decided to finally settle down after all these years to raise a family. However, it was never a life of peace whilst the shadow of the Empire looms over your heads.

Prompt/s in play: Anon prompt (found in Chapter 1 link) + fic idea

A/N: Wow, I’m a day overdue on this. I was supposed to work on this a day ago until I had a yard accident. Don’t worry, nothing’s broken, but something’s... wiggling. Hopefully, I’ll be okay in a few weeks... hopefully. Sorry for the delay, you guys.

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 | Previous: Part 10 | Masterlist

11 of 11

The Kestis family and the Mantis crew eventually decided to join this alliance with the objective of stopping the Empire at all costs. They took up the offer a month after Mari Kosan had personally approached them.

For young Cassidy, it was a big adjustment, having to leave the home she knew back in Zera III and begin to live in a new home. The child had mixed feelings about it, she had sensed the uneasiness of her parents when they prepared for their departure that day.

“I never saw a planet that red before,” she gasped, gawking at Yavin’s main planet that they passed by as they approached the moon’s atmosphere.

When the Mantis had cut through the skies and had full view of the forests that covered the land mass. All of a sudden, little Cassidy didn’t feel a bit homesick anymore.

“It’s… almost like home,” she softly uttered, the treelines reminded her of the wide, green dells of Zera.

Greez prepared the Mantis to land near the open area in front of the sandstone structure. Upon closer look, it would’ve been a temple when it was still in its prime. The entire family was greeted by Mari Kosan, who went out of her way to meet with them as soon as she saw that familiar ship flying into their radar.

The bustle of the temple-turned-base of operations fascinated the young Jedi. Never has she ever seen a different kind of ship besides the Mantis, she had to step back while keeping her head titled up—emphasizing the gargantuan size of the fighter ships.

The new feeling was a two-way road: for the adults working in the base, it was new for them to see a kid running around—understandably so, it was someone’s daughter. As for Cassidy, she wasn’t used to this much people in a single place, she felt small and therefore found more solace with her family.

“This place is so much bigger than our house, Mom!” she exclaimed.

“Well, it is a base after all, darling,”

“Did they build that too?” she points to the pyramid.

“No, it looked like it’s been there way before they even came here,”

Much like her lifestyle in Zera III, Cassidy found herself a spot where she can practice her saber techniques in peace without being in the way of the adults working in the base. It’s no surprise that her spot was another clearing in the forest, little did she know that she was in full view of the scouts in the watchtowers but they didn’t mind her that much, it was also only a few meters away from the base so she can find her way back on her own.

Her parents eventually found her spot, thanks to a watchtower scout, and they continued their training—almost as if nothing happened. Over time, her skills improved and she was able to spar with her parents—something that she has been secretly dreaming even before she had her own saber constructed.

“You’re catching up real quick!” Cal encouraged.

“Well, I’ve been practicing all week, Dad!”

“Don’t get cocky then, Cassy!”

Cassidy’s combat techniques had evolved from sticking to only Form I: Shii-Cho to being a practitioner of Form III: Soresu, occasionally making a medley out of the first four forms if the situation arises. It was a blatant contrast to her father’s combined forms—which were technically powerful, swift, nearly-brutish in terms of movement, and is highly likely to be overwhelming for an unskilled opponent.

You observed that Cassidy was more in the offensive and Cal was being defensive in his stances. He surely didn’t go easy on sparring against his daughter.

“You confuse your confidence with arrogance, keep yourself grounded—literally and figuratively!” Cal lectured as he proceeded to lunge at her, to which she barely dodged by a hair. “Celebrating too early will cloud your judgment. You may think you’re winning—but you’re getting closer to loss.”

From that, Cassidy became more conservative with her attacks, timing for the right window of opportunity to get a jab at Cal, he disarmed her when he made a flurry of combos against her to the point that the grip on her saber had weakened and led her scuttling on the dust. The tip of his lightsaber hovered mere inches away from the front of her face.

“Well, Cassidy?”

This isn’t how Cassidy pictured herself in today’s instruction. While she had her father thinking that she’s submitted to the ground, she mustered her energy in her hands and Force-pushed her father away. It wasn’t a strong push, but enough to stagger him away from her so she can reach for her saber.

Igniting it the second the weapon reunites with her hand, she lunged for an overhead strike to which Cal flimsily deflected while trying to regain her footing.

“Impressive,” he commented as the colors of their blades mixed in the tight space between them. Cassidy pulled away before she could let the weight of her father overcome her in the block. “Most impressive.”

Cal switched his saber off, signaling the end of today’s session. Cassidy made a celebratory spin of her saber before turning it off.

“You’re learning everyday,” you added.

“There are just some parts that I can’t get right,”

“You’ll have plenty of time to work on that, sweetie. Come on, it’s time for lunch, Greez is making your favorite,”

“Alright!!”

Cassidy raced out of the forest, forgetting to wait for her parents and simply dashed towards the Mantis. You and Cal exchange insights on your daughter from today’s session.

“She’s becoming more and more skillful. She really is a born fast learner,”

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t think she’d do a Force-push on me. That was quite creative of her,”

Cal insisted that his daughter had inherited tactfulness and adaptiveness from you.

“Yes well, she got that tinge of recklessness from you,” you rebutted, half-jokingly.

The two of you walked out of the clearing and followed Cassidy to the Mantis. Apparently, she was waiting for you by the entry ramp, when she had caught sight of her parents she disappeared into the ship, probably helping out set the table inside.

“If there’s one thing Cassidy is weak for—it’s fried Nuna legs,” Cal quipped, nothing but a chuckle from you became his reply.

The first few months have been peaceful, yet there was always the looming fear that war will come here and ravage the moon. Your only comfort being you’ll be fighting with good people and in numbers.

—–

0 BBY, IN THE TIMELINE OF “A NEW HOPE”

In the midst of the committee, he was held in high regard, looked upon with great esteem, they turned to him whenever the subject matter felt like his insight was crucial. He was a constant figure among the meeting rooms in the base. They didn’t look down on him due to his second origin of being a scrapper, as a matter of fact, he had the same knowledge as their engineers.

“Master Kestis,” a voice, faceless among the crowd in the meeting room. He had insisted everyone to simply call him by his first name, but out of force of habit, they end up addressing him as Master.

When he knew that it was hopeless for him to correct them, he turned to that voice in the room that addressed him. His glance prompted them to continue.

“Do you think it’s plausible to have a far-range receiver to pick up the Empire’s signal?”

A brief pause allowed him to think. He returned his attention to the holograph where they had gathered.

“Well, the concept is similar to something I’ve designed for our previous home. But to make its range farther—for instance, from the surface to off-planet—we’re gonna have to need a stronger satellite, calibrate it with an open channel frequency, and once we test it, we can figure out how far our dummy ship’s signal can be picked up once it’s out of the moon. The farther, the better—it means that we can pick up the Empire in our radar before they even realize it.”

“It’s an ambitious design, but not impossible,” Gial Ackbar, the Mon Calamari admiral, interjects. “It’s sure to help us buy time when the need to evacuate comes.”

“We’ll see what we can do in the drawing board,” the head engineer added, stroking his grey-white beard as if he’s come up with an idea to add up to Cal’s concept. “I think we can do that on one of the prototype transponders we have to communicate with the pilots from their ships once they’re off the planet.”

“That could work, I’d like to see it some time, if you don’t mind, Head Engineer,”

“My boy, it will be a delight if you stop by!” the old head engineer chuckled, tucking his hands into the pockets of his long, white coat.

The meeting was adjourned after a few more discussions varying between the Empire and the base’s own resources. Everyone else dispersed in the meeting room and Cal was one of the first people to leave the room, trading curt nods at fellow rebels as he passed by the hallways.

Cal wore many hats and served them one by one—sometimes even juggling two at a time. But past the formalities, the conferences, and the ceaseless interaction with the diplomats, he always returns to the one role he has been taking on for eleven years.

“Dad! Watch me train with Mom!” Cassidy comes running up to her dad in the hangar and he catches her in his arms.

“I wouldn’t miss it, sweetie,”

“Then we’ll spar, right?”

“You betcha!”

Father and daughter appear into the forest clearing where you had been waiting for the two of them. Cassidy slipped her hand away from her dad, Cal gently holds you by the cheek and pulls you in for a kiss.

“Darling, you’re back,”

“I missed you,”

“It was only for an hour or two,”

“Yeah well, meetings aren’t really my thing,” the bridge of his nose crumpled, playfully making a grimace as he stretches his arms upward and wraps one of them around your shoulder. “This is a bit more of my thing.”

Bemused, you rolled your eyes and found his hand on your shoulder, “Which one—today’s instruction or me?”

He inched close and grinned, the tips of your noses brushing against one another, “Both.”

His lips pecked yours, but he doesn’t plan to let go of you any moment soon.

Now at eleven years old, Cassidy continued to prove her potential as a Jedi.

The child was lithe and nimble, using them to her advantage whether in combat or traversing the terrain of the obstacle course that her parents had built together. Her strategical skills were put into good use in that training course.

Her liveliness in combat was balanced out in using the Force and meditating, courtesy of you, no less.

“You’re getting better at the fighting,” you initiated, eventually slipping away from Cal’s arm. “But let’s see how you’ll fare without your weapon.”

Using the Force, you spirited away the saber from Cassidy’s small hand. She didn’t have time to react on it and realize that you’re stealing away her saber.

“Oh, don’t think about pulling the same trick as you did with your dad,”

There was stern tone in your voice, just hearing it made Cassidy’s stomach churn. To reassure her that it was going to be a fair fight, you removed your saber from the designated hook on your belt and joined it with Cassidy’s atop a rock’s flat surface.

“There will come a time that you’ll be robbed of your weapon—mostly by your enemies. And when that happens, you’re essentially bare—but don’t let that deter you. The weapon you have next to your saber is yourself. Now then…”

It occurred to her that she had to wield only the Force and engage in hand-to-hand combat against you. You seldom engage in any form of combat with Cassidy—because that was more of Cal’s work—but it was only this one time where she saw you throwing fists and delivering kicks. She’s seen you fight with a lightsaber, but rarely with your bare hands.

Your own daughter was surprised to face her mother—who was barely angry or aggressive, always sweet and doting—not once did Cassidy ever imagine you challenging her. Then again, you were a Jedi, she knew that you would eventually.

She tucked her knees down, placing herself in a stance with her fists in front of her.

“Good form. Now, see if you can attack me,”

Cassidy resumed to being the one who always engages in the offensive first. Springing her heels toward you, she attempted to pull a punch—in the blink of an eye, the whole of your palm stopped the impact on wherever she was planning to hit you.

You pushed her away, deflecting her blow, and she restarted her stance. For every punch she threw, she was denied of landing it; in perfect balance, you bent down level to her waist and your leg literally swept her off of her feet.

“Throwing punches may feel thrilling, but if you’re going to be reckless like that first moment, it’s not going to work,”

“I’ll try again,” she declared, steeling her mental willpower and her demeanor.

Going back to your stance was your reply, you anticipated her attacks. This time, she opted to start with a kick and your forearm shielded you from the tip of her boot. When you swung her foot back to the ground, she hooked her left fist towards your cheek—a bold move, you thought, but it was nothing as you repeated the same deflection as the first time. Cassidy took you by surprise when she flung a kick against your side when you were busy blocking her punch with your arm.

You staggered at the impact, you dented the earth with your boots as you skidded and reset your footing to face her in the other direction. A small smirk curled along your lips—that meant that she’s impressed you with her last-minute tactic—and the fistfight continued.

“Good!” you exerted. “Keep making use of your advantages, Cassidy!”

Cassidy allowed the adrenaline to flow within her, dictate her movements, and be able to analyze the situation faster before you could retaliate. Punches and kicks land between mother and daughter. Flinging and trading fists, making sure that it doesn’t only cut through the wind.

Eventually, your eleven-year-old secured her win on this round when she delivered a kick on your knee and then to your abdomen. When the adrenaline had died down in her system, Cassidy’s clenched teeth loosened and the tension in her shoulders relaxed. She darted towards her mother’s side, assisting you to get back up on your feet.

“Oh… Oh no, Mom! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, sweetie,” you grunted, managing a reassuring chuckle and taking her hand, you repeated. “It’s fine.”

“I’m so sorry, I… I don’t know what gotten into me,”

“A little adrenaline couldn’t hurt, Cassy,” you tussled her hair. You exhaled away the aches that her hits have delivered.

The arrival of a Corellian freighter called your attention, catching a glimpse of it on the trees’ canopy. The intrigued youngling darted out of the clearing to find it landing right in front of the base, opposite of where the Mantis idled.

“Wow, that’s a big piece of junk,”

“Now Cassidy, be nice,” Cal lightly scolded.

“Oh come on, Dad, you think so too, right?”

He sighed, bobbing his head left and right, “Okay, it’s not the best piece of work, really.”

“Knew it!” the child chuckled.

From afar, you spot the Princess exiting the ship, flanked by a pair of men, a Wookiee, a gold protocol droid, and a blue-and-white astromech.

“Well, it seems Her Highness has gotten herself stuck with an interesting band of misfits,” you commented within Cal’s earshot.

“Quite an interesting rescue team if you ask me,”

The family approached the group, appearing out of the clearing to greet the princess with the greatest esteem.

“Ah, Your Highness, this is Master and Lady Kestis,” the soldier introduces.

“Your Majesty,” husband and wife greeted and bowed in unison, to which the Princess immediately dismissed.

“Oh come now, there’s no need for formalities,” she beamed a smile with lips as red as roses.

Cassidy was still a tad shy towards newcomers, she hid behind Cal’s hip as she gazed at the mismatched group of misfits; she was mostly interested with the Wookiee and how tall it stood over everyone else, when the brown, hairy creature met eyes with her, she was startled and hid her face against her dad’s arm, but the Wookiee tilted his head slightly, mirroring the child’s gesture as she gradually peeked out of her father’s arm. When she sensed that the tall creature was harmless, she flashed a shy but friendly smile and the Wookiee groaned softly.

The same head engineer from Cal’s meeting beckoned him to join them inside the base.

“Lady Kestis, if you don’t mind, we would like to have your company in the council room as well,”

“Of course,” you turned to Cassidy. “Daddy and I will be back, okay? You go play wherever you like.”

“Okay, Mom,”

You kissed her forehead, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

She nodded and you let her free. You and Cal followed the head engineer and the Princess, boarding a cart separate from theirs on the way into the hangar. The Kestis couple sensed the urgency as they strode into the meeting room, while having the meeting, Cassidy had wandered off into the hangar—secretly following the newcomers and caught the eye of the boy with sandy brown hair.

“Hello there,” the nineteen-year-old spoke in a friendly tone and bent to her level. “What’s your name?”

“Cassidy,”

“What a pretty name. Well, Cassidy, I’m Luke! Nice to meet you,” he gladly extended his hand, offering her a handshake. She hesitated for a few seconds but took his hand with hers and they shook on it.

She didn’t notice it, but Luke’s friendly smile unconsciously dissolved as he felt something within the girl. It was similar to a feeling he had not too long ago. Even with his eyes opened, he suddenly reminisced a moment where he had his vision obscured and the sound of the lightsaber buzzing against projectiles rang fresh in his eardrums. He shook away the thought and managed a smile in front of Cassidy as he let go of her hand.

“Did you rescue her? The princess?”

“Yeah, I guess we did,”

“Are the bad guys coming here? Because I have a bad feeling about it,”

“Oh well, would you look at that—just when I thought you were the youngest here, there’s one who beat you to it,” the other man, obviously taller than Luke, cuts in before he could give the boy a chance to reply.

The Wookiee grunted in reply.

“Don’t scare her off, Chewie,” the man blurted.

In reply, the Wookiee raised its voice on the man with the black vest, flailing its arm to emphasize whatever point it was making. While the three bickered, Cassidy turned her head to the freighter they came in with, she reminded herself of her father’s scolding and bit her tongue.

Moments later, all of the pilots started gravitating towards the room where the engineer had summoned them. Although he wasn’t a pilot yet, Luke decided to join in, but he politely excused himself in front of Cassidy before he went with the herd of orange jumpsuits. Amidst that gathering of pilots, Cassidy’s parents were also in that briefing, listening to the head engineer as he points at the blueprint of the plans they’ve recovered while giving instructions.

“So much for that far-range receiver,” Cal mumbled within your earshot.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance in making it,” you comforted as you listened.

“Using proton torpedoes, a precise shot into this small exhaust port found in this trench—it’s an opening so small, its width roughly measures about two meters—will cause a chain reaction into the oscillator, destroying it from the inside,” the head engineer explained.

Murmurs filled the room, heads turning left and right as doubt begins to fill the meeting room. You and Cal glance at the uneasy pilots, their collective inhibition was so loud that neither of you don’t need to sense it—because everyone else in the entire room did.

“That’s impossible!” a faceless voice, lost in the crowd of orange and white, stood out from the whispering.

“Then man your ships, and may the Force be with you all,” the engineer adjourned.

“Are you fighting with them?” that question had been suffocating you for the duration of the briefing.

“No, I don’t think I have the strength to leave my girls here,”

Relief washed over you as you smiled, Cal secretly slipped his hand to yours and intertwined fingers with you. The two of you watched the pilots disperse out of the room, some were confident, some were nervous—but if there was one thing they had in common: they’re ultimately anxious.

Cassidy eventually found Luke donning a starpilot’s jumpsuit. She watched the blue-and-white astromech droid being hoisted by a magnetic crane into the designated port on the exterior of the X-Wing.

“I hope they’ve calibrated and oiled your S-foils well,” Cassidy blurted. “It’s gonna be hard if it’s not fully locked in their attack position.”

“You sure know your starfighters,” Luke smiled, impressed.

“My dad used to be a scrapper, so he knows his stuff. Plus, he helps with the ships too!” Cassidy said proudly.

Luke replied an awkward but friendly laugh as he climbed the ladder onto the cockpit of his X-Wing.

“Hey Luke!”

“Yeah?”

“May the Force be with you!”

“May the Force be with you too, Cassidy!”

You beckoned Cassidy into the far side of the hangar, where the three of you watched all of the X-Wings wheel out of the hangar and take off to the skies—carrying the hope of the entire Rebel Alliance as a first step to battling the Empire.

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