#i think the go to jamie mannerism to look at is the hands bunched up in his tshirt. which is THEE mannerism ever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silverdelirium · 3 years

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SWEET TOOTH | J.P

SUMMARY ➠ ice cream man!james fucks you in his ice cream truck

WARNINGS ➠ fingering, dirty talk, semi-public sex, praise kink, humiliation (?), pet names, bit of a breeding kink, not proofread

WORD COUNT ➠ 2.0k

A/N ➠ the long awaited ice cream man james smut ;) oh and this is for @hellounicorn <33

———

you were in that stage between dreams and reality when you heard it.

the small tune that you memorized since you started living in this neighbourhood— he always passed by in summer; and god, were you craving something cold and tasty to munch on when it was a thousand degrees outside.

you hummed in content as you lifted yourself from your bed, stretching your lips and rummaging through your closet in an attempt to find a comfortable and decent attire to meet james; as weird as it sounded, you wanted to impress the ice cream man and it was safe to say that you had developed a small crush— james had always been so nice to you, going as far as giving you free popsicles in exchange for a brief conversation.

the tip of your nerves went on fire as you stepped outside; spotting him buckling his belt. he was wearing a tight fit white shirt that had you drooling and shuddering.

——

“there you go, kiddo” chuckled james after delivering a chocolate ice cream to the last kid of the big crowd that had formed earlier.

he sighed in disappointment when he realized that you still hadn’t come out yet— he had purposely parked the van a few feet from your house, just so you could maybe pop by and have a nice chat with him.

truth is that james missed you. he hadn’t seen you since last summer and it had already been a shitty weather day, he knew you would be the only one to lift his mood up with that bright smile of yours.

james went back to the driver’s seat and as he finished buckling himself up he heard a small scream of his name upfront.

holy fuck— thought james.

you were wearing a small cute sundress that accentuated your figure in the best way possible, and when he let his eyes travel down to your chest, he caught a glimpse of your peebled nipples. leading him to get into the conclusion that you might only be wearing panties underneath that dress. his cock ached at the thought.

he stepped on the pedal lightly and drove closer to you, until the truck was right in line with your home.

“hi there, sweetheart!” he greeted, unbuckling his seatbelt and going into the back— where he was met with your face through the open window.

“hello james” you giggled “long time, no see, huh?”

“damn right you are, honey— i was starting to wonder if you moved out, what took you so long?” he spoke in a querying tone.

the tip of your ears and nose grew hot as you remembered struggling to find something cute for him. “oh— uhm, i was just— looking for my shoes you know?” you awkwardly chuckled, staring down at the five dollar bill in your hand as if it was the most interesting thing in the planet.

he gave you a bit of an amused look before shaking his head “whatever you say, pretty girl” your tummy fluttered as the nickname dripped from his lips like sweet honey.

“what would you like today, hm?”

“oh just— something sweet and creamy, like an ice cream popsicle” you shrugged, not noticing the effect your words had on james.

“i know something of yours that is sweet and creamy” he murmured under his breath. “what was that?” “oh, no nothing” he gave you a tight lipped smile, his cheeks dusting pink.

“right well uhm, the ice cream”

“oh shoot yeah— what uh” he paused to clear his throat “what flavor where you thinking of, petal?” and his sweet flirty persona was back on, as if the thought of having a face full of your pussy wasn’t replaying on his head over and over again.

“i don’t know” you groaned, almost embarrassed at your sudden indecisiveness.

“you can come in you know? take a look at the flavors and see which one catches your attention more” he offered, sparing you a small smile.

“won’t you get in trouble for that?” you cocked your head to the side. “i don’t mind” he shrugged, the corners of his lips still quirked up as he opened up the back door for you; already holding both of his hands out to help you climb in.

what a gentleman, you thought.

“there we go, honey. take your time.” spoke james as he patted your waist twice, sending a buzz of excitement all throughout your body that almost made you shudder on the spot.

the variety of flavours seemed so appetizing you started wishing you would’ve brought your whole wallet to buy all of them at once, but a peach flavoured ice cream would do.

as you went to give james the money he only chuckled and said “you know i wouldn’t charge a pretty little thing like you, your presence is enough” before handing you the sweet and throwing you a wink as he rested his back on the frame of the window.

the way his muscles flexed as he crossed them over his chest had you questioning whether you should’ve asked for his cock instead of a fucking popsicle—

and god… that damn shirt had your core clenching around air as your mind wandered about him fucking you in every position possible, he just looked so elegantly inviting.

“you done staring, sweetheart?”

shit. you didn’t even realize.

“oh my god, i am so sorry, i should probably leave” you nervously laughed, heading towards the back doors, only to have a large hand around your abdomen stop you.

holy fuck. james potter’s body was pressed against yours and you almost let out a moan as his breath fanned over the side of your petrified face.

“you can’t just leave me all alone in here, sweetie” his hand traveled lower down your mid drift. by now, your stupid peach flavored popsicle was long gone somewhere on the floor, melting. almost as much as you were against james’ hefty chest.

you swallowed thickly, blinking a few times to collect yourself as you turned your head to the side, it was hot breath against hot breath now; if only one of you made the first move—

“oh fuck this” he growled, disconnecting his palm from your pelvis and instead linking it with your jaw to have more access against your lightly chapped lips.

the lip-lock was vulgar and enticing since the start, both of you feeling the luscious sparks that it sent to your sex.

“i’ve been way too fucking patient” you heard him mumble as he took your lower lip in between his teeth, coaxing a whine as you felt your core drip with arousal. “bet you think about me when that pretty cunt is begging for relief, huh?”

“yes jamie, i do. i fucking do” you heaved, impassionedly grinding your bum against his bulging crotch. “i’m gonna fuck you nice and long today, baby. until all you can do is beg for more”

his words went straight to your sopping cunt as he waddled you forward, his mouth still on yours, to the window.

his lips detached from yours. “there we go baby, stay nice and loud for me, yeah? want the whole fucking neighbourhood to know who’s stuffing you full.”

your fingers gripped the edge of the window tightly as james nipped at your neck, his left hand bunching up your dress while the right one’s simultaneously prodded at your swollen button. “you came all bare for me, honey? bet you wanted me to fuck you good once and for all” he groaned, not giving you a warning as he slipped two fingers at once, leaving you a gasping mess as your knuckles turned white from holding on to the frame of the aperture you were leaned on.

“james!” you cried out quietly, rocking your hips back onto his fingers as the ones from his free hand made a path to your throat, lightly squeezing the sides.

his digits made wonders to your contracting insides, juices already making a sticky mess on your thighs as he curled them upwards, caressing your g-spot in a mouth-watering manner; the pad of his thumb made way to your clit, soothing it in tight figure eights as your legs shook, pulling small wails after wails from you.

feeling the thrill of the enticing orgasm building up, you brought one of your hands back to tangle itself on the male’s dark curls, only to have him tut at you as he removed his drenched fingers.

“wha— no! please!” you shamelessly begged, not giving a shit about anything else besides the ache on your heat.

james did nothing besides giving you a wicked grin as he let go of your neck, now focusing on lowering down his trousers— which quickly had you shutting up as you stared in fascination.

he was definitely the biggest you have had so far. a nice length with a thickness that would make a barbarous stretch feel so fucking delirious.

“i’m not sure if i can fit in that tiny hole of yours, precious. maybe i should just leave you like this” he fake pouted, a hint of amusement lacing his features as your bottom lip trembled at the thought of not having him inside you in the next fifteen seconds or so. “no! it’ll fit! make it fit” you mewled, rubbing your pooling cunt against his grith.

“so impatient” he chuckled, stabilizing your hips with his hands before forcing himself into you in one single unforgiving push, making you let out a small scream as your eyes shut tight.

james gave you a few moments for you to get comfortable before you rocked your hips backwards into his as a sign of consent. his hand travelled upwards to grope at your breasts as he thrusted deeply.

“my god, you feel like absolute heaven” he grunted, and even though you couldn’t hear him, the strain in his voice gave away that he was probably with his head thrown back, abs clenching and biceps flexed as his chest heaved, a sight for sore eyes truly.

your mouth stayed agape as his tip kissed your g-spot. your vision clouded with small black stars that had you genuinely question whether they were really painted in your house or not.

james started with a brutal speed since the start, the smacking of your skin against his was filthy and loud, you could only hope mr. benson wouldn’t go for a walk today.

the van rocked and lightly squeaked with every thrust of james’ and you tried your best to contain every loud moan and cry that might alarm the whole block. james had other plans though. “say my name baby, don’t hold back, i want to have your pretty moans fucking memorized”

you complied, throwing your last fucks out of the window and chanting his name like a prayer as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his strong arms moving to hold you up by the bending of your elbows, causing your spine to arch in a perfect C as james continuously grunted in your ear.

“you’re gonna be absolutely cockdrunk after i’m done with you, honey” he groaned, speeding up the push of his hips and biting down on your shoulder as he brought you both closer to the edge.

“james! i’m gonna cum so hard, don’t stop please, don’t fucking stop” you sobbed, moaning uncontrollably as the coil in your stomach unravelled without any form of forewarning.

“there we go, cream my cock so nicely baby” whispered james, still fucking your quivering pussy through the orgasm with an aggressive pace. “oh fuck, this tight cunt is gonna milk me dry, yeah?”

you could only answer him with a whimper as your legs almost gave out on you if it wasn’t for him holding you up, a few more sloppy thrusts and he was spraying your fluttering walls with his cum, whines escaping his lips.

a breathy moan passed through your mouth as he pulled out, his load slowly flowing out of your puffy folds.

“you look so hot when you’re stuffed full of my cum, sweetheart.” rasped james, peppering your cheeks with soft kisses.

———

i’m tagging the people who clicked “all” in my taglist, dm me if you wish to be removed.

🏷: @selenesheart @siriusblackwifeeey @alohastitch0626 @remuslupinswhore @caosfanblr @memorycharm @abbott27 @elizabethrosedarling @samaraaaaa @malfoyspov @ildm4ev @kieracass4lyfers @acciodignity @methblinds @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @riddleswh0rekrux @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @marauderswh0re1 @black-rose-29 @emma67 @mypainistemporary @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @lissa-duh @paniicing @alohastitch0626 @caosfanblr @memorycharm @youreso-golden @malfoyspov

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#james potter #james potter smut #james potter au #james potter fluff #james potter one shot #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fanfiction

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matbarzyy · 3 years

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Wasted Love (part 3) [T.S.]

A/N: I have no motivation to write so enjoy this even though I was supposed to make this chapter a lot longer. Hopefully I’ll be back with the rest of this series soon but who knows at this point lolz (getting this degree is going to end me)

Word count: 1932

Easter brought about yet another event at the rink. Alessia was quietly finishing up work in her office when 5pm rolled around, and she stretched into her seat before reaching for her phone. One last text from Claire had gone unanswered, but it was only one last confirmation of their plans for the night so Alessia didn’t make much of it.

Fridays were the only days everyone could really leave work on time, so she got up from her desk and began gathering her essentials back in her purse. She had plenty of time to get out, Claire was only meant to meet her in twenty minutes and they were hanging out at the bar across the street.

Ever since she had started taking time to be with the team after work Alessia had realised that letting Jordan believe she was working late was the best way for her to get some time with a friend.

“Allie let’s go!” Tyler barged into her office without so much as a knock. It startled her enough to make her jump, and she got ready to tell him off, the words about to leave her mouth until she saw the look of excitement on his face.

“Go where?” She softened, putting her bag over her shoulder.

“Come on,” he bounced on his feet and pulled her from behind her desk to drag her through the facility.

“What’s got you so excited?” Alessia exclaimed as she stumbled after him, following blindly and dodging a few people along the way.

She didn’t have to think much to know he was taking her to the rink, but what she didn’t understand was why. Tonight was a family skate, players with their wives and girlfriends, kids and other relatives. Alessia didn’t fit in there and she had already told Tyler she had other plans.

Tyler stopped abruptly when they reached their destination, and in her course Alessia almost sent them both toppling over. She still collided into his back, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“Look,” he motioned to the ring, decorated with a banner for the event and coloured fairy lights all over the place.

Families were on the ice, Alessia was able to spot Jamie among the others. The youngest players were messing around although mindful of the kids around, and the older ones taught their kids how to skate. Some held their babies, making them discover what being on the ice felt like for the first time.

Tonight was special and Alessia didn’t want to be in the middle of it. This was their own little universe, it was intimate and she was just one of their coworkers.

“Why do you want me to go?” She asked quietly because Tyler had mentioned she should come at least three times this week.

“Because now you’re with us, you should get to enjoy the fun parts of the job too. Weren’t you supposed to meet with a friend tonight?” He asked, watching her nod slowly. “Why don’t you tell her to come in, we’ll get her a pair of skates, it’ll be fun for everyone.”

Tyler’s excitement had died down, but he was still looking at her with the same expectant look in his eyes. His voice was calm, he used that soothing tone he always took to reassure her whenever she was stressed or upset, yet she still hesitated.

Jordan was the main thing on Alessia’s mind, and not in a positive way. His frustration about her staying out after work was still growing, the whole thing had escalated and Alessia didn’t want to upset him further.

“Ty, I really can’t stay late,”

“It’s five,” Tyler almost whined. “Live a little!” He made his tone cheerful again to get her to cave in.

He knew he had won the second she shook her head with a sigh, taking her phone out of her bag and texting Claire about the change of plans. She was too busy typing to see the way he beamed, but had Jamie been around he would have surely given Tyler the disapproving look he was growing accustomed to whenever he was around Allie.

What she did see was the way he bounced on his feet again as he got impatient waiting for her, and the corners of her lips rose. He could be such a child sometimes.

“Alright Seguin,” Alessia followed him to get a pair of skates, sitting on a bench to lace them. “You’re lucky I actually like skating,”

“Oh yeah?” His own skates replaced his shoes in what felt like half a second to Alessia. “Need help?” He noticed her pulling at the laces.

“I’m good,” she refused, finishing up fast enough and getting up again. The tightness around her feet was familiar, and she suddenly felt more excited about stepping onto the ice.

“Show me what you got,” Tyler motioned for her to go first.

In her confidence, Alessia forgot how many kids were on the ice on top of a bunch of reckless hockey players. She started off just fine and Tyler remained behind to watch, laughing at the way she showed off her skills, but as soon as a little girl cut off her trajectory she lost her balance.

Tyler stepped on the ice, gliding slowly to come help, but with a few awkward waves of her arms she almost regained her stability. She would have been just fine if someone hadn’t skated fast right next to her at that exact moment, startling her again and making her fall backwards.

Alessia’s exclamation when she hit the ice had Tyler rushing to be next to her in a few seconds.

“Are you okay?” He worried immediately, trying to see if she was hurt.

“You get slammed into the boards ten times harder and keep playing,” she winced as she pushed herself into a sitting position. “Of course I’m okay,” she reassured him and accepted his hand to get back to her feet. “Thanks,”

“I can see you’re a pro,” Tyler chuckled now that he was sure she was fine. “Thanks for the demo, champ.”

“I can skate!” Alessia defended herself, glaring at him and letting go of his hand to skate ahead of him, trying to prove her point.

“Yeah sure,” he laughed and ignored his protests, easily getting in front of her and turning around to skate backwards with her hands in his. “Let me just make sure you don’t end up on your ass again in less than ten seconds,”

“Rude,” she snorted but made no move to get out his hold.

They skated hand in hand for a while until Alessia’s phone pinged with yet another text that let her know Claire made it to the rink. They parted so that she could catch up with her friend and the two ended up holding hands as they talked and skated together.

“So this is your life now, uh?” Claire asked as they took a break on a bench.

“I mean, it’s actual work during the day but yeah,” Alessia leaned back against the wall behind them, taking in what she had achieved. “It still feels crazy that I made it here all on my own,”

“Well it’s not like Jordan would’ve been any help,” her friend snorted, earning a glare. “Oh come on,”

“You always make him sound so bad, we’ve been together for ages,” Alessia sighed and pouted a little, making her turn softer as she replied.

“No, you make him sound bad and I just put it in a less concealed way.” Claire brought her knee up on the bench to look at her. “When’s the last time you actually had a good time being around him?”

“We get along great at home,” her tone became defensive and Claire knew better than to try to have this conversation again.

“Okay,” she decided to drop it and stood back up. “Come on, let’s get back to it,”

Tyler saw them coming and stopped to let them step onto the ice without being trampled by the rest of the team. Most kids were tired now and off the ice, so things were getting a little rowdy.

“Ladies,” he motioned for them to go first, giving Alessia his stupidest grin to make her laugh.

“This is the first time you actually look like you have manners,” she teased because of something that had happened earlier during the week.

“Excuse me?” Tyler gasped, his hand over his hard to show his offense.

“You eat like an animal!” Alessia threw back, earning an eye roll and a whine from him.

“It was one time!” He complained before starting to make excuses for himself. “It didn’t have breakfast before practice and I was running late for a meeting, I had to be fast!”

“You’re disgusting,” she chuckled in response while Claire watched from the side, amused at the exchange.

“Oh I’m disgusting? You sure you wanna play that card in this situation?” He slowly inched closer to her, and since Alessia was facing him and had no chance of escaping by skating backwards she immediately started warning him.

“Tyler I swear to god I will- FUCK!” She screamed as he threw her over his shoulder and kept on skating. “I’ll kill you!” She tried to hit him but he was laughing too hard to care.

“Take it back!” He sped up, taking advantage of the space the others were clearing now that they were staring at the scene he was causing.

“Put me down you freak!” Alessia tried to wriggle out of his grasp and yelped when she felt his grip was less tight. At this speed she was too scared to fall from his shoulder if she moved too much.

“Insulting me isn’t helping,” Tyler said in a sing-song voice, a shit-eating grin taking up most of his face. He thought the situation was hilarious and he loved being the centre of attention.

“I’m sorry! You’re not disgusting! Just put me down!” Alessia pleaded, holding onto his jersey for dear life.

“There,” he laughed, helping her get steady on her skates. “See, that wasn’t so hard,”

“I hate you,” she grumbled as she adjusted her clothes and regained her balance.

Tyler gave her a playful eyeroll and held his hand out for her, which she didn’t hesitate to take so that they could skate back to the other side of the rink where Claire had stayed through the whole scene. She gave Alessia an unreadable look as she joined her again, and after skating and talking to them for a while Tyler went back to his team.

“You know…” Claire trailed off for a second, trying to find the right words as she once more noticed Tyler glancing back at them while he was supposedly busy with his friends. “I wouldn’t encourage you to like… cheat on someone, but that guy looks like he’s into you and he’s already a million times nicer than Jordan.” She eventually let out.

“Tyler?” Alessia almost choked on air. “No, god where did you get that idea? I’m sure he’s not interested, and it’s not like I’d be either. Jordan is… I’m with him and that’s not going to change anytime soon. I’d never do that to him.”

“I’m not sure Jordan thinks of you as highly as you think of him,” She watched as her friend shut her out once more, so she held back a sigh and tried once more to knock some sense into her. “Keep this one around, he looks like he’s a good friend for you.”

tags: @itrocksmysocks @kerwritesthings @pupsandpucks @shawnsreputation @whythough1319 @smit41 @glassdanse @fiveholegoal @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @thefootballfaithfull

tumblr decided to be a bitch with the tags, strikethrough means I couldn’t get the tag to work.

Please reblog and let me know what you thought

#tyler seguin #dallas stars #segs #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin fluff #tyler seguin angst #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #tyler seguin imagine #wasted love #wasted love 3

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amanda-glassen · 3 years

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The Wonder Years: Part 8

While getting ready for her first school dance, twelve-year-old Olivia starts a path toward discovering who she is truly meant to be. Parts 1-7 can be found under the the tag #alex and liv: the wonder years

Thank you @ghostwritingcabenson @imaginaryoperagloves @cabensons @oliviaswifey and my lovely anon for all of your really sweet comments and tags.

Cover courtesy of my tumblr wifey @ghostwritingcabenson

Seeing the brightly colored frozen yogurt shop put Olivia at ease because it was the setting of some of her best childhood memories and now she was going to experience it with her girlfriend.

Olivia did as Jamie had done for her mom and opened the car door for Alex. That small act of chivalry earned a big smile and a ‘thank you’ from Alex, which made Olivia feel as if she had butterflies in her stomach.

“Babe, why don’t you take Alex inside?” Jamie suggested. “I want to stay out here and talk to Ollie.” Uh oh.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Serena gestured for Alex to follow her. “We can get first pick of the toppings.”

“Yeah!” Alex said excitedly. “I want chocolate chips and chocolate brownie bites.”

“Is everything okay?” Olivia asked, worried that Jamie had a suspicion that she and Alex were hiding something.

“Everything is fine,” Jamie responded. “This is a good talk, I promise.” She pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her wallet and handed it to Olivia.

“Cool! Twenty bucks!” Olivia folded the money and put it in her pocket. “Thanks, Jamie. I was saving up to buy a－”

“It’s not for you, kid,” Jamie interrupted. “It’s for you to treat Alex.”

Olivia tried to hide her disappointment. “But my mom always pays for frozen yogurt.”

Jamie made a failed attempt at stifling her laughter. “Think about it, kid. What’ll score you more points, you paying for her frozen yogurt or your mom paying?”

“Me, I guess,” Olivia groaned. “There goes my new bat.”

Jamie shook her head and wrapped her arm around Olivia to guide her toward the entrance. “I have so much to teach you, Ollie.”

Alex and Serena were already choosing their toppings when Olivia and Jamie entered the frozen yogurt shop. Olivia noticed that her mom had gotten their usual and she was eager to get the same－chocolate flavored frozen yogurt with Oreo crumbles, gummy worms and Fruity Pebbles－a tradition in the Benson household that they had named Dirt and Worms.

“Mom, I’ll pay for me and Alex,” Olivia told her once all four cups of frozen yogurt were on the counter and ready to be weighed.

Serena took her debit card out of a pink and white polka dot Kate Spade wallet. “It’s okay, baby, I’ll get it. Save your money for that bat you’ve been wanting.” Olivia noticed her mom and Jamie exchange glances and she hoped Jamie could read her mind because she no longer had the slightest idea what to do. “On second thought, it’s probably not cool for your mom to pay for you on your first date.”

“I got this,” Olivia tried to say as smoothly as she could while she pulled out her twenty dollar bill and placed it on the counter.

“And I’m getting yours,” Jamie told Serena. “You already paid for dinner. We’re supposed to be in an equal partnership here.” After Alex and Olivia’s cups of frozen yogurt were paid for, Jamie inserted her card to pay for hers and Serena’s.

“I paid for us to eat at Hot Dog On A Stick, not some expensive restaurant,” Serena reminded her. “That’s all we had time for after Barnes & Noble and GameStop.”

Jamie picked up their frozen yogurt cups and carried them over to the table. Olivia figured she should do the same for Alex until she saw Alex already eating brownie bites from her frozen yogurt. Better not take that away from her. “I learned an important lesson today, Ser. If I value my life, I will never attempt to take one of your fries. Is it the same with frozen yogurt?”

Serena scrunched her nose. “Yours is vanilla with strawberries, blueberries, and bananas. No wonder you want to steal some of mine.”

Within seconds of sitting down at the table, Olivia’s phone started to vibrate. It was a text from Elliot confirming he'd be at their secret meeting, but Olivia didn't want to risk her mom seeing a message from her dad come through so she decided to put her phone in her pocket.

"What's this big science project about?" Serena asked them. "I've never seen an assignment have that effect on Olivia."

Olivia was in the middle of chewing a gummy worm, so she was grateful when her quick thinking girlfriend decided to answer. "It's the end of the year project which is worth 25% of our grade. Mrs. Rodriguez is supposed to give us more details on Monday, but my brother had her class three years ago and he said she lets her students pick the topic. Sometimes that's harder because the possibilities are endless. She also doesn't like us to pick partners because someone could get their feelings hurt if they aren't picked, so she puts us in alphabetical order. If she does that, it's fine because I'll get to work with Olivia. Alphabetically there's no one in between us. We should start brainstorming, Olivia."

The last thing Olivia wanted was to think about a science project that wasn't due for another month, but her girlfriend’s enthusiasm was contagious and the project was the only thing keeping her mom from asking questions about what was actually on her mind.

Olivia felt her phone vibrate again, except this time it wasn’t a text from Elliot or any of her other friends. It was another message from her dad that read, “Hey Sport. Wanna get some pizza tomorrow?”

“Who’s that, baby?” her mom asked her.

“Just Elliot,” Olivia said nonchalantly. “He’s asking if I’m still coming over tomorrow to watch the game. I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Olivia was grateful that the bathroom was a single stall so nobody could follow her in there. She pulled out her phone from her back pocket immediately after locking the door behind her and started to respond to her dad. “Yeah can we go to Another One Bites the Crust? That’s my favorite. I can meet you there at 1.”

She waited two minutes before another response came through. “Daddy/daughter day tomorrow at 1. They have those rotating basketball hoops outside. Bring your A-game.”

When she returned to their table, a feeling of guilt hit her hard and suddenly. She occasionally hid things from her mom like when she didn’t tell her she had a girlfriend, but this was the first time she had actually lied to her. It was the worst she had ever felt in her entire life and she knew that lie was only the first of many that she’d tell her mom that weekend.

Serena asked Alex about her siblings and Olivia heard Alex talk about her older brother who was fifteen and nice to her and her younger brother who was almost nine and kind of annoying. Olivia loved to hear Alex talk about her home life and her friends and her favorite movies and TV shows, but that night her mind was on her dad and how much fun the two of them were going to have the next day eating pizza and playing basketball.

“Do you have any brothers and sisters?” Alex asked Serena.

With Serena distracted by Alex’s question, Jamie took it upon herself to attempt to steal a gummy worm, but her attempt was soon thwarted by Serena gently smacking her hand. “Hey! Nope. Hands off my worms. If you wanted gummy worms, you should have added some to your frozen yogurt.”

Olivia handed Jamie a couple of her own gummy worms. “Here, Jamie. You can have some of mine. I have a whole bunch.”

Jamie took the worms and held them up to show Serena. “Unlike you, your kid actually shares.”

“What can I say?” Serena smirked. “My kid is better than me. That means I’ve succeeded as a mom.” She held Jamie’s hand on top of the table before turning to Alex. “Sorry, Alex, before we were so rudely interrupted by my gummy worm thief, I was going to tell you that my brother Kyle is two years younger than me and my sister Lexie is one year younger than me. The three of us are really close, like best friends. Kyle and I live in the same building, but Lexie moved back to California after college. She lives in Santa Monica now.”

“Lexie Benson is your sister?” Alex asked, wide eyed and completely in disbelief. “Lexie Benson, the YouTuber? I’ve seen every single one of the videos on her YouTube channel! She does these really funny videos where viewers can request what era or theme they want and she does these in-character spoofs about－” Alex started to blush. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. She’s your sister so you know all about her channel and her videos. Wait, I think I’ve even seen you in some of them!”

“Yeah, she’ll force me every time I go out to Santa Monica,” Serena smiled at her. “And don’t apologize for getting excited over something. I’ll tell Lexie about you next time I talk to her.”

“Babe, your phone,” Jamie told her as she looked down at Serena’s phone and noticed an incoming video call.

“It’s my mom,” Serena groaned. “If I don’t answer, she’s going to keep calling.” She swiped across the screen to answer. “Hi, Mom. I’m out right now with Olivia, do you mind if I－”

“Where’s my grandbaby?” Mrs. Benson interrupted her. “I want to talk to her.”

Serena handed the phone to Olivia. “Hi, Grandma!” Olivia said excitedly. “Wanna see my girlfriend Alex? She’s having frozen yogurt with me. Me and her went on our first date tonight.”

“Hi, Mrs. Benson,” Alex said after scooting closer to Olivia. “Pleased to meet you.”

“You’re adorable!” Mrs. Benson responded. “And so well mannered. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alex. So, tell me, how is my grandbaby on a date? Does she hold open the door and pull out your chair?”

“She’s a perfect gentleman and she’s so cute and sweet and she got me a rose and frozen yogurt tonight,” Alex beamed. “I like Olivia so much.”

Olivia felt butterflies in her stomach and she wanted nothing more than to kiss Alex if they were alone. “Doesn’t Alex look like a princess?” Olivia asked.

“She looks like Princess Grace,” Mrs. Benson told her granddaughter. “She could be a classic Hollywood starlet. And you look so handsome and grown up, my darling grandbaby.”

“Jamie cut my hair,” Olivia said excitedly.

“Jamie,” Mrs. Benson said in a teasing tone of voice, hoping Serena would hear. “Tall, dark, and handsome, herself, the one woman I would consider switching teams for.”

“Mom,” Serena groaned and Olivia couldn’t help but laugh when her mom put her head down on the table in embarrassment.

Olivia handed the phone over to Jamie. “Hi, Melanie. You’re looking beautiful as always. Where are you? I can see the sunset behind you. Are you on vacation?”

“Oh, no, I’m just on our rooftop,” Mrs. Benson said nonchalantly. “Didn’t my daughter tell you about the beach house in Malibu?”

Serena took the phone from Jamie. “I have to go now, Mom. Alex has to get home soon.”

“Not so fast,” Mrs. Benson told her. “Since you neglected to tell me when your spring break was, I looked it up on Columbia’s website and saw that it’s the week after next. I’m booking your flight to LAX. You can bring Jamie so I can finally meet her in person and my grandbaby can bring her little girlfriend and before you object and say you had something planned for my grandbaby, I will save you the effort and say nothing you can plan in that gloomy state you insist on living in is as much fun as the kids will have at the beach and at Disneyland.”

“Disneyland!” Alex said excitedly. “I’ll ask my mom if I can go as soon as I get home.”

Olivia’s dream of riding the teacups together and buying Alex a pair of sparkly Minnie Mouse ears could finally come true. “Please, Mom. Please can we go? I’ll do anything.”

“Don’t be the bad guy, Serena,” Mrs. Benson told her daughter. “I can hear how happy the kids are.”

“It’s 9:45 over here, Mom,” Serena said in a frustrated tone of voice. “I have to hang up now so we can take Alex home. Bye, Mom. I love you. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Serena set her phone on the table and then turned to face Jamie. “One thing I hate about smartphones is that you can’t angrily close them when you wanna hang up on someone. Nothing gave me more satisfaction as a teenager than hanging up on my mom with my pink bedazzled Motorola Razr phone whenever she nagged me about something like she is right now. She completely undermines my parenting every chance she gets. What if I had something planned for Ollie?”

“At least you knew how to use that phone because, apparently, you can’t use this one,” they heard Mrs. Benson say. “I’m still on the line, Serena. I’m booking your flight and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Olivia looked across the table at her flustered mom and at Jamie who was trying to contain her laughter. The short interaction with her grandma had made all of her negative feelings go away. Tomorrow, she’d spend the afternoon with her dad and, as long as they could convince Mr. and Mrs. Cabot, she’d soon be at Disneyland with the love of her twelve-year-old life.

#cabenson #baby cabenson #alex and liv: the wonder years #serena benson #law and order svu

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quillsareswords · 4 years

Text

Breathing Room

Damian Wayne

Of course the little dog here is basically my sweet baby girl Rogue with a different name (Baby/Babe because I'm sure all of you at home have dogs you'd like to substitute names for), who sends all her love and puppy kisses to all of you! Ugh this was fun to write. So goddamn fluffy I could call Build-a-Bear a competitor.

Reader is a Titan.

Requested:

Prompt List // Masterlist (in bio)

"If I die, I'm leaving my dog to you."

Damian turns halfway to give you a suspicious glance over his shoulder. Then, he turns back to the fire place, where he's successfully stoking the flames currently living there.

The animal in question is the next victim of his scrutiny, laying perfectly peacefully on the corner of your blanket that's been left unused on the couch next to you. He points, you nod, he rolls his eyes.

"Awe! What? You wouldn't take my poor baby girl in?" You're borderline incredulous. "Did you hear that Baby? He doesn't love you!"

He scoffs, then pushes himself to his feet and joins you on the couch once more. The little dog lifts her head to look at Damian, almost accusingly.

You pet her gently. "Don't mind him, Baby, he's just jealous because I love you more," you soothe, babytalking the eight pound pooch like the spoiled princess she is.

"Firstly, you aren't going to die, it's only a snow storm," he argues, "and secondly, even if something were to happen, of course I'd take in your large rat."

You gasp and lightly slap his chest. "Damian Wayne!" you shrill. He chuckles loudly. "You take that back right now! Apologize!"

He rolls his eyes, knowing that if he doesn't, you'd probably give his spot on the bed to Titus, who's listening to the entire exchange from the giant pillow on the floor. He reaches across you, lays a hand on her little head, and says clearly, "Baby, I am sorry for calling you a rat. You are clearly small not-dog."

You sigh in exasperation and defeat. He laughs, though it's obvious he's trying not to and failing miserably. "What am I going to do with you, you scoundrel?"

His arm lays across your shoulders as you shiver for the second time in the last five minutes. "Well, you can first let me chose what movie we watch since I started the fire for you."

You can't help snuggling closer to him. "Firstly," you mock, "I could have started the fire myself. Secondly, I'll let you pick the movie if you let me pick the genre."

"Deal," he relents.

Two comedies and a horror film later, you hear the front door downstairs unlock, with a roaring chorus of arguing voices behind it.

When Kori and Dick invited you and Damian to a Titans Winter Vacation, you had been a little skeptical. You hadn't been a Titan for very long, and you weren't as familiar as you'd like to be with any of them.

However, you'd known Damian for years, and he insisted it wouldn't be as bad as you thought. He wasn't entirely keen on the idea either, but you'd eventually agreed that it'd be nice.

They'd rented a cabin up in the mountains. It was three stories, with six bedrooms, five bathrooms, two living rooms, a home theater, and a game room. You especially loved the balconies on every level. That provided a truly glorious view of the Smoky Mountains.

Though, when you heard it was six bedrooms, you knew that meant sharing a room. You only really slept alright by yourself or with Damian, so it concerned you that you'd most likely be sharing a bunk bed with Raven, as you and Damian were seventeen. But, because Dick knew you wouldn't be doing anything more than cuddling, he was more than happy to let you and Damian share a queen-size in the loft, directly above Garfield and Jaime's.

To sweeten the deal even further, everyone was in perfect agreement that you should definitely bring your dog. She was very sweet and quiet, and perfectly mannered. You didn't worry about taking her anywhere. It made you feel even better that Damian was taking Titus.

So here you are now, tucked into Damian's side on a plush plaid couch in the loft, Baby curled up next to you and Titus sprawled at your feet, listening to Gar and Raven and Cyborg come shivering in through the front door.

"Holy hell, it's cold as balls!" Gar shouted, kicking off his boots at the door. You were about to call down to ask how town was, but he was already sprinting up the spiral staircase.

Damian sighed, though only loudly enough for you to hear. He thought of the loft in it's entirety as yours, even though the bedroom was an entirely separate room, kept private by a thick door.

Garfield paused by the couch to lean over and pet Babe, which she gladly accepted, before zipping over to the firepalce to warm up.

"How was town?" you ask. Damian grabs the remote and backs out of the movie, which was already rolling credits.

"Eh, it was okay. Grocery store was neat, though. Had a candy section that was lit."

You laugh softly. "Get all the groceries?"

He nods. "Yeah, but their produce section was so confusing."

"Are you sure you aren't just dull?" Damian quips. You roll your eyes and flick his ear as you sit up. "Hey!" he chirps.

"Ha!" Garfield shouts and points boldly, though he looks as though he's about to hurdle the railing behind you. "Damian got in trouble!"

Damian, the tough, mature man he is, flings a pillow toward the green boy with as much force as he can while slouched against the couch back.

"Watch the fire, you dufus," you scold, laughing, as you slide toward the steps with Baby at your heels.

"Ha ha! You got in trouble agaaiinn!" Garfield sings. Then he shrieks, and then there's a green bird diving over the wooden railing and Damian's shouting something that has you scooping up Baby and hustling down the stairs to stay out of his way.

• • •

Your bedroom is dark, and because you both like the curtains pulled away from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the drop of the mountain your cabin is perched over, it is quite cold.

Too cold for your liking, even pressed against Damian's back and Babe curled into the small of yours.

It's been fifteen minutes of listening to Bob's Burgers play on the television over your shared dresser and the collective body heat still isn't enough. So, in a desperate attempt to chase the chill off, you half unwind your arms from his waist, and slide them under the hem of his tee shirt to press them flat against his side and his back.

While you're sighing in relief, he's jumping and sucking in a breath of absolute shock. He all but gasps, "What are you doing with your ice cold hands up my shirt?"

You almost laugh at the tone of absolute offence he's using. "I'm cold! We can't all keep the same core temperature as the sun, Wayne."

"Well Jesus, you could have at least warned me," he grumbles, rolling in your hold to face you.

You fall asleep pretty quickly now, wrapped up in his arms, legs tangled with yours beneath a heavy quilt.

• • •

You're always the first ones up. Well, not always, but for the past four days that you've been on the trip, you both have. It's usually Damian, and only Damian, but you aren't far behind once your main source of heat leaves you alone in bed with sunlight beaming into the room.

You, Baby, and Titus all follow him down the spiral staircase and through the main common room, dining room, and the intermediate stretch between the two staircases and two bedroom doors.

He turns on the coffee pot for the rest of the team while you start the kettle and set out tea bags and mugs for the two of you. While he's still fiddling with the settlings on the machine, you let the dogs out to the small fenced yard off to the side of the huge cabin.

The machine spurs to life just as you're lifting yourself up onto the countertop of the kitchen island. "Are you gonna make pancakes and eggs?" You keep your voice low, considerate of Raven in the room on the left and Jamie and Garfield in the room on the right, all still sleeping.

"I wasn't planning to," he answers, leaning against the counter by the gas stove, where the steel kettle is still heating up.

"But you promised. . ." You just out your bottom lip and tilt your head just a little, soft eyes oh so slowly grinding away at that steel cover he keeps locked around his heart.

After exactly forty two seconds, he caves in. "Did the Happy Bunch even get the ingredients yesterday?"

Your sweet begging facade switches on a dime, now housing a devious glint in your eyes. "Of course they did, I put it on the list."

He sighs, loudly. He lets the dogs in before he goes around the kitchen, gathering all things necessary for the pancake mix you love so much.

It's twenty minutes later when Kori and Dick are opening the basement door and emerging from the hall downstairs, Kori's hair just as unkept as every morning and Dick's shirt just as wrinkly as the night before.

"Sometimes I think you only love me for my pancakes," Damian chides playfully, having yet to associate the creaking hinges with the basement door.

"I won't deny it," you laugh, grinning down at the bowl you're stirring with more dedication than is probably necessary.

"Damian, I didn't know you cook," Kori states, with enough surprise that you're a little taken aback.

He turns to look at her over his shoulder, still dicing strawberries without looking and making your nerves twitch while he does it. "Only occasionally."

"Hey hey, watch what you're doing, boy," you sound a little too much like someone's grandmother, but you're really a little aghast that he hasn't steeled himself yet.

Damian reserves a certain part of himself around most people. It's a part of him you're allowed to bask in only after years of assurance and affection. You wouldn't be so surprised if it was only shown to Dick, but it was Kori he was speaking to, eyes still a little glittery and smile still lopsided and prominent.

In a moment of adoration and maybe a little pride in him, you hum, "Only for me, of course."

To yours and even Kori's awe, he chuckles. "Only when you force me, you mean."

You recover faster than she does, and cover yourself with a laugh. "I wouldn't call you promising me strawberry-blackberry pancakes forcing you, but if you wanna try and save a little face . . ."

Kori turns to Dick, with a look on her face that is silently asking if he's seen the same thing. His eyes flit between her, you, and his youngest brother, before they settle on you. He seems a little less jarred.

"Gezz, what'd you do, (Y/N)? Drug him in his sleep?"

With Garfield's arrival, Damian's smile fades off and he resumes quickly dicing strawberries on a wooden cutting board.

You mumble into your batter, "I'm starting to wonder."

• • •

At 11:15 in the morning on the sixth day, a war commences.

While you and Damian decide to hide out the still-raging snowstorm in your cozy little loft with your faithful hounds, half the team is out in the snow, hurling handfuls of snow that vaguely resemble spheres at one another from behind artificial snowbanks.

Though eventually, you decide the total war out in the front yard is far more entertaining than anything on his Hulu or Disney+. So, you pop a bowl of popcorn and brew your third batch of tea, and sit backward on the couch to watch out the massive windows that take up most of the front wall of the common room.

Over the porch roof, you can watch all the atrocities of battle play out from the safe warmth of your loft together.

Though, some time around three, Damian reminds you that you have plans to drive into town to explore, and asks if you'd rather stay and finish the battle.

An hour later, you and Damian stand at the front door, dressed to brave the weather, having bid your dogs goodbye as you left them in the warm safety of your bedroom.

Damian's hand is on the doorknob, but he seems hesitant. "Are you ready?"

You flip up your hood and pull your scarf up over your nose. "Yes."

He hauls the door open, and with your hand in his, you quickly cross the porch, jump the steps, and make it halfway around to the driveway, when you hear somebody shout, "Civilians! Open fire on civilians, they're both wicked!"

Damian spins on his heel to threaten the entire group, but you beat him to it when you see Jamie, snowclod wound up, aimed right at you.

Silence falls over the battlefield like the snow still drifting down at an alarming rate.

You point a sharp finger at him. "If you do this, I will never forgive you," you declare lowly. "I swear to every god in existence you'll wake up with your head sewn to the carpet."

He stops. Narrows his eyes. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?"

A moment's debate. You can image the Scarab waving you off with we can take her. But oh, that thing has never seen you with a grudge.

He swivels on his feet and hurls it at Raven, who's been hiding behind the snow that'd been shoveled off the sidewalk that morning.

You take Damian's hand again and make a break for his car.

After the drive to Downtown Gatlinburg and three or four hours spent roaming the streets, you're already talking about living there. In all honesty, he isn't so opposed to the idea of buying a home in the area. You seem so in your element here, and the town and the scenery surrounding you is so breathtaking.

But you know you'd never be able to drag him out of Gotham. Perhaps a vacation home, or maybe retirement.

You decide to stop in to a little cafe in a place called The Village, which is a collection of shops surrounding a lovely courtyard off the main stretch of Downtown.

It's crowed inside, so you decide to stand out by the fountain while you sip your steaming drinks and converse about the little shops you liked best so far. You are particularly fond of a candy shop, and he would very much like to check out a blade shop a block or so down the way.

Your teeth chatter as you talk about wanting a souvenir, something small to keep on a shelf, and finish the rest of your hot chocolate.

"Are you that cold?" his question is simple enough, but his voice is so soft and so drenched in concern it catches you off guard.

You laugh lightly. "I'm okay, just might need another hot chocolate before we set off again," you shrug, jamming your hand into your pocket has he takes the paper cup from you and nods.

"Well, I'm sure that can be arranged." He smiles.

There's something in his eyes, though. It's subtle, in the little wrinkles between his eyebrows, and the redness of his nose and his cheeks. As much as you like the way it looks on his honey crisp complection, it's starting to worry you. Not the blush he gets from the cold's kiss, but the slightly out of character openness he's been exhibiting. You like to think that maybe he's growing out of hiding his louder emotions, for his own sake, but you can't take the risk that it's something else.

He returns to you with an offering of mint hot chocolate. He smiles again when he greets you, and the pair of you set off back toward the sidewalk do a little shopping.

"Hey, Dame?"

"Hm?"

You wind your arm around his elbow with your free hand. "Everything okay with you?"

He turns his full attention on you. "Yes, of course. Why do you ask?"

You take a sip out of your hot chocolate. "I don't know, you've just been acting a little differently the last few days." His eyebrows crease in a worried way, and you get the sense he's disappointed. "In a good way, I mean," you correct yourself quickly, "I just want to be sure it isn't for a bad reason."

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. You turn out onto the sidewalk, and start making your way farther up the street. "No, there isn't anything wrong," he assures. "I can't exactly explain it, which I'm not entirely okay with, but it's been. . . nice, this trip. The land is beautiful, the air is much cleaner than in Gotham, the people here are nice." He turns to face you again. "And you seem a lot more comfortable with the Titans. I'm glad; I'd feared you wouldn't bond with them at all, truthfully, and they're all far more bearable with you around."

You nod as he speaks, eyes jumping past him to the signs on the building fronts every once in a while. There's something he isn't saying, and you know it.

"And. . ." He sighs. "And you."

You pass him a quizzically quirked brow.

His voice lowers and he lays a hand over yours on his arm. "I love you so much, (Y/N). I can't even find the right words anymore."

Your eyes lock with his and you stop walking. Your lips part because your jaw goes a little slack, and your wide eyes reflect all the neon colors of the signs in the window on your right.

It isn't the first time he says he loves you. And you know it won't be the last, but he hardly ever says it so freely. It always behind closed doors in the softest moments, when you're both vulnerable or so drunk on love for one another neither of you can think straight.

You can't remember the last time he's been so open about in in front of anyone else, and it only ripens your concern.

You pull him closer, eyebrows slanting together. "Damian, I'm serious, are you okay?"

Now he's the one with one eyebrow reaching for answers. "Pardon?"

"I'm sorry," you blurt, "you know I love you from here clear to Alpha Centauri but you're really starting to worry me."

He laughs at that. Then, his eyes are as soft as his smile, and his hands smooth down the sides of your arms before they rest on your forearms. "(Y/N), I promise you there is nothing wrong with me now that hasn't been for the past seven years. Am I not allowed to let once in a little while, and allow myself a little breathing time?"

You hadn't realized you were so tense until you relax under his touch with the assurance. "Of course you are," you reply after a pause. You take one hand off your hot chocolate to rest it on his chest, coincidentally over his heart. "I just worry sometimes. I don't want anything to happen to you, Dame."

"I know," he says. He gingerly takes the paper cup from you and sets it on the bench you hadn't noticed before. He pulls you into his arms, enveloping you in a warmth like sunshine and a scent that's too particular to Damian Wayne to be mistaken. Your arms wind inside his open coat to the hoodie he's wearing underneath.

A long moment passes in relative silence. Your eyes are closed, ears perked to the drifting sounds of uncaring passersby and the rumbling of passing cars.

"I really want to slip my hands under your shirt right now," you mumble into his shoulder. "But if you tell me not to, I won't."

He grunts.

And for a moment, you ponder weather or not that was a denial. You silently make your choice and close your eyes again.

He leaps under your touch. "Damn it, (Y/N)!"

#damian wayne blurb #damian wayne headcannon #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #teen titan reader

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beanie-beebo-writes · 3 years

Text

Imagine/one shot

Summary: You and a group of friends go ghost hunting (per usual) when things go wrong.

Warnings: None

Masterlist

You told yourself you would never be that group in a horror movie, the stupid one that goes to investigate an abandoned building with a "keep out" sign posted onto the fence. But you couldn't help yourself. The thrill you felt walking into the old and supposedly haunted asylum, just like any other building you'd explored, was beyond words.

Though, this particular building had a weird feeling once you crossed the east wing, and you were starting to doubt coming in, in the first place.

"Guys, come on. Maybe we should turn back." You said.

"Are you kidding (Y/N)?! We've hit the motherboard of all motherloads!" Your friend Jamie said.

His flashlight was tucked under his arm as he dug through a bunch of files stashed under a dusty bed frame. Your other friend, Natasha, agreed with him.

"What's wrong? Are you chickening out for once?" She teased.

"No, course not." You sighed. "I just don't like the vibe I'm getting here."

"How's it any different than the other places we've been to?" She asked.

"It just is." You said.

"Well I don't know about you two, but I'm staying unless if I'm given a reason not to. If you want to be a baby about it, suit yourself." Jamie said.

"Jamie, knock it off. I'm serious." You said. "I've felt things before, but nothing like this."

"Whatever." He said, continuing to search remnants of what looked like some sort of day room.

You sighed and held your backpack straps tighter. You were already in the building, and figured you could brush off the feeling for now.

You had almost forgotten about the feeling as the three of you joked around, investigated, and searched through what was left in the place. Around halfway through the wing, you stumbled across what seemed to be a jumbled altar, making your stomach drop.

"You should have listened to the girl."

You turned around at the voice you first thought was in your own head to find another woman standing several feet behind you.

"Who are you?" Natasha asked.

"Can't you see we already have a spot to investigate? Get lost." Jamie said.

"Jamie! Please excuse our friend, he doesn't seem to know manners apparently." Natasha said, eyeing him.

The woman chuckled. "Investigating huh? I mean, I would but.. what's the point if you already know?"

She blinked, replacing her brown eyes with an inky black. The three of you backed up and gasped.

"And I thought you were investigators, a pity really." The demon mocked.

"A demon?" You asked.

"In the flesh."

Suddenly you thought back to a tv show you watched and remembered there was an exorcism these people had performed to banish the demon. You gathered your courage with a deep breath and began to recite.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, ergo draco maledicte, ut ecclesiam tuam secura, tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!"

You opened your eyes to still see the demon in front of you. You furrowed your brows in confusion.

"You done?" She asked.

"It didn't work?" You quietly asked yourself.

"Of course it doesn't work you fucking idiot. You really think that tv show bullshit actually works?" She said, apparently hearing you.

"It was worth a shot. Latin is latin." You said to mainly no one but yourself.

"Please. As if a language can actually work to send us back. Get a load of this idiot."

You all stared in absolute fear at what would unfold and the powerful entity that somehow stood in front of you. What you didn't expect was for two men to practically appear from nowhere behind the demon.

"Actually, I'd say she's pretty smart." The shorter one said.

Before a word could come out of the demon's mouth, the taller man came from around a corner and stabbed the demon from the backside. As it lit up in an orange color, you and your friends could only look on in horror, not really sure what was happening.

"Woah woah, guys, it's okay. We're the good guys, I can promise you that." The taller one said, seeing you were all slowly backing further into the wing.

"And you are..?" Natasha asked fearfully.

"I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean. We hunt things."

"Why the hell were you in-" Dean started before looking down at your hands. "Don't tell me."

You looked down at your EMF reader and back up at the brothers in confusion.

"Uh, thanks for saving us." You said.

"Well we wouldn't have to if you would just stay out like you're supposed to!" Dean said.

"Dean," Sam began.

"No Sam, it has to be said! I'm tired of saving idiots. If it says stay out, stay out. Got it?!" Dean finished.

"Yes sir." Jamie said.

You and Natasha looked at him like he grew a second head, as he usually wasn't this nice.

"What?" Jamie asked.

"Nothing. Can we go now guys?" You asked.

"Yeah." Your friends both said.

Dean rolled his eyes as he and his brother headed out behind you.

#supernatural #spn #spn imagine #spn x reader #spn one shot #sam winchester #dean winchester

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famouslastwordsinmexico · 4 years

Text

Suggested for You

You think to yourself, I shouldn’t have looked that up online.

You’re now staring at a bunch of banner ads that frame your email inbox. Each one is attempting to entice you to purchase succulents from flower shops near and far, small and conglomerated. The bright, animated images boast to you about how their store’s succulents will set you on the path to self-care while reconnecting you with nature. You know these ads are suggested to you and tailored specifically for you based on your search history, but, really, you just wanted to know how to spell “succulent”.

To be fair, you probably shouldn’t be looking up non-work related curiosities while actually at work, but it’s been a slow morning. And yet, right as you excuse yourself for the trivial indiscretion, you’re called into your manager’s office. You lock your computer and worriedly head over to where they wait for you. Upon entering the room you see that there is someone else here for this impromptu meeting. Or, rather, someone has video-called in, their face on your manager’s monitor, which has been turned to meet yours.

“A representative from HR will be joining us remotely,” your manager informs you. They then sit on the front edge of their desk, not behind it, in a manner you suspect all managers unironically believe comes off as cool and relaxed.

“Huh. Is something wrong?” You cautiously take your seat, looking between them and the digital HR rep.

“Oh, no, not at all. It’s just a small request.” They fold their hands in front of them. “That presentation you’re working on for Friday; I wanted to ask if you would give it over to Robert.”

“Robert? Why? I thought it was supposed to be my project.” You worked hard on that presentation, and even harder on that project. It was something that was going to get you noticed by the higher-ups, a first step towards bigger things.

“It is. Or, it was. It…” They stop themselves, physically appear to reset, and adopt a concerned face. “We’re simply worried it might be putting too much stress on you.” They lean in. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright with you?”

“Uh… I’m doing fine?” You’re progressively less certain about what’s happening.

“You sure? You can be honest with us.” They lean back. “We’ve heard you’ve been depressed.”

The shock of this gives you mental whiplash.

“‘Depressed’?” you echo. “Why would you think that?”

“Well,” they begin, affecting the concerned yet distant tone in which only senior managers are capable of speaking, “it’s come to our attention that you’ve been sharing some pretty troubling sentiments.”

“I only really talk about work-related stuff with people, honestly.”

“No, I’m referring to the stuff you share online.”

Dumbfounded, you blink.

“You see,” your manager explains, “we recently employed a service that keeps us up to date with our employees.” They seem mildly pleased with themself over their technological ability. They speak to you but look at the HR rep on screen. “Of course, it’s only because we care for the well-being of everyone here in the office. And their software told us that you’ve been feeling quite down lately. They even highlighted some examples; is it not true that you recently posted about how nothing really matters?”

You don’t recall using those words for anything. As you confusedly shrug, they pull out their phone and hand you it, showing the post in question.

“Wait, what?” you ask. “Those are song lyrics. To a very popular song! I shared them for a ‘Throwback Thursday’.”

“Hmm, no,” they say, taking their phone back. “I’m still seeing a cry for help. Like, what about this one: ‘All I want is to sleep and pizza and do nothing and sleep’? That sounds pretty depressed.”

“That was one of those online things where people let auto-complete write a post for them.”

“Sure, then how do you explain this post, where you describe how you wish the food truck across the street would ‘run you over’ if you ‘tipped extra’ for your burrito before you got back in from lunch?”

“That’s a really old post I made when I was at my old job. The one I left for this job! I made that joke to vent. Other people liked it.” Specifically two people: a friend, and the food truck’s company (which you presume auto-likes any mention of their brand).

Your manager sighs as they shake their head.

“Come on, now, you don’t have to hide. You can be honest.” They lean in again. “This is sophisticated software; it wouldn’t lie. Its algorithm combed through your life and crunched the numbers. You are depressed. And, if you’re feeling depressed, we want to make sure the company isn’t placing any undue stress on you. Wouldn’t want you turning around and saying we’re unfair, or that we torment you with public speaking, huh?” No one laughs at their non-joke. The HR rep briefly writes something on their notepad. “Right. Well, when we ask you to hand the presentation off to Robert, it’s not just because we want it to turn out well, it’s because we want you to be well, too.”

“You’re punishing me because of memes?” you ask, unsure of how much incredulity you can show without further risking your job.

“Oh, no, of course not,” they reply, “we would never!” At this point your manager doesn’t even try to hide that they’re assuring the HR rep more than they’re talking to you. “This company does not punish depression. In fact,” they add, turning back to you, “why don’t you take the rest of the day off? We’ll mark it down as a sick day, a day for ‘personal care’, even.” They nod to themself, satisfied. “I’ll mark it down in your time sheet right now.”

They pull out their phone and begin typing, finished with this meeting. You want to tell them not to do that, since you only have a limited number of sick days, but feel there’d be no use arguing. You stand up, at a loss for words. As you slowly turn to leave you find the HR rep is pointing towards the printer in the room. It prints off something you deduce they sent remotely. It appears to be a pamphlet. The person in the monitor motions for you to pick it up, their face set in the textbook definition of a polite smile. The pamphlet is titled Dealing with Depression.

Your smartwatch pings as you grab the pamphlet and the screen displays an ad for succulents. You turn the watch off.

You don’t feel like going home right away. You instead head to a nearby cafe and order the kind of sugary latte you know isn’t worth the high price and higher calorie count, but you could use the comfort. There are no real baristas here, only machines that charge you extra to print a picture of yourself onto the latte foam. You pay the extra amount. You then sign on to the free wifi, checking off the terms and conditions you didn’t read, and take a picture of your cup to share online. Not five minutes of browsing later you get a call from your mom. You plug in your headset and answer.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

“Yeah, how do you mean?” You wonder why everyone’s asking you that today.

“Because you’re not at work!” You realize now that the picture you just posted is location-tagged. “And I know what kind of drinks you like when you’re feeling sad; I’m your mother, after all.” You should’ve never accepted her friend request.

“No, it’s not that, it’s just… I’m alright. Working from home today, but I figured I’d grab a coffee. That’s all, I promise.”

You don’t think she believes you but her silence tells you she won’t push if you don’t want to tell her the truth. You instead get a notification on your phone that your mom has sent you a “poke”, a feature that only moms still remember exists. She breaks the silence first.

“Well, okay then,” she offers, “if you say so. Anyways, there was something else I wanted to ask you about.” Her tone gets conspiratorial for her next question. “Are you and Jamie dating?”

“What?!” You nearly choke on your latte. “No! Why do you think that?”

“Your aunts told me,” she answers plainly. “And, apparently, some of their friends told them first. They’re still not used to, you know, those kinds of relationships.” As progressive as your mom can be, her age and upbringing still show from time to time.

“I don’t even know my aunts’ friends, why would they think I’m dating Jamie?”

“They saw your picture online.”

You rub your eye, annoyed.

“What picture, mom?”

“Well,” she starts, and if phones still had cords you could imagine your mom twirling hers now, wrapping her finger as she shares the gossip, “you see, one of your aunts’ friends was online and saw you as a suggested friend.” You never understood what algorithms determined those suggestions. “She was curious, so she went in and browsed your page. There it was, a photo of the two of you, looking pretty close and cozy.”

You check your account on your phone. There’s no way someone randomly looking you up online could’ve seen that photo. Although, how many times did the site tell you they were updating their privacy policy and you opted to skip the details of what that meant?

“Mom, didn’t you see that picture yourself before? That was just Jamie and me playing around. You know we’re just friends.”

“Yes, I thought it was nothing. But, those friends of your aunts talk a lot, and they do seem very convinced. I looked at the picture again and it got me thinking.” Her tone gets conspiratorial again. “Are you dating Jamie? I’d have nothing against it. Your father, though…” You block the headset mic to hide your exasperated sigh, and then interrupt before she can finish the thought.

“We’re not close, mom, not like that. My aunts and their friends are making up stories.” You wonder how scrutinized any future pictures you post will be. Maybe you should restrict how much of your profile your mom can access. You’ll have to figure out the new privacy settings first.

“Yes, fine, you’re right. I’m simply saying they sounded convinced, is all.” You can almost picture her busying herself with some chores at home to prove that she’s over it. And yet she adds, “I will say, though, that if you were with Jamie, I’d be very supportive. Jamie’s lovely, and would be lucky to have you.”

You hide another exasperated sigh and change the topic. When she’s had her fill of catching up, your mom says goodbye and you hang up.

You sit in the cafe, your mouth contorted in contemplation save for when you sip from your cup. You thought you were good at keeping your personal and online lives separate, but thanks to dubious algorithms and out-of-touch inquirers, your agency at work has been diminished and your sexuality is being questioned by people who’d be less than understanding. Even if you restrict who gets access to your information, what little slips through the cracks is still interpreted without context. Is that what the internet is now? For people to be data-mined so other people can make assumptions? Who wanted it that way?

Your phone sets off with another notification, informing you that a local indoor plant store has followed you online. They specialize in succulents.

You almost laugh out loud at the insanity of it. Of course; this hunt for data is mostly the hunt for ad revenue. While it’s a marvel how fervently someone on the other side of the screen wants to believe they understand you, advertisers are the ones who set the system up. And even they can’t seem to get it right!

The fever of frustration breaks, giving way to a fever of defiance. Why leave room to be misinterpreted? You decide to live your online life unabashedly and unafraid to share all. Will someone be tracking your moves? You don’t care, but if they are you hope they can keep up.

You grab your phone and browse with fury and determination. You share news articles and let your political leanings lay bare as you never had before. You hit “publish” on every dumb joke and inane thought you had previously hid shamefully as drafts. You post all of the pictures in your phone, and when you’re done with those you take a couple more. You follow musicians, actors, and influencers alike, so that no one would have to guess what your tastes are. You join in as many forum conversations as you can, and only stop when a person you’re arguing with, who has an anime-girl profile picture, threatens to dox you. You log off.

When you finally get home you’re bleary eyed from unblinking browsing and shaky from the excess of caffeine. You want nothing more than to decompress. As you turn on your TV to search for something to stream and zone out to, you call out to your virtual assistant device and say, “Play something soothing.”

Though your command was vague, as the speakers turn on they start playing exactly what you only now realize you had in mind. You love this band, even if you hadn’t thought of them in a while. Your phone goes off with a notification that this band has a concert coming up soon. As if on instinct triggered by serendipity, you click the notification to buy tickets.

While browsing various streaming services on your TV you come across several documentaries that you’ve heard confirm a lot of opinions you’ve had on the state of things. While you’d love to be proven correct, you’re more in the mood for something light. You wonder if they have this one funny movie that’s a reboot of a movie that’s based on a book. Before you can remember the title you see it listed. You hit play.

Ultimately, modern movie watching entails being on your phone, so you scroll through whatever new content was uploaded on your commute home. While you idly browse, you find another tailored ad, this time for a t-shirt boldly claiming that people born the same month as you are kind yet shouldn’t be messed with, each line in a different garish font.

“Ha,” you laugh to yourself, “what a stupid ad.” Even after all the data you gave them, advertisers are no better than your manager or your aunts, thinking they know you and what’s best for you.

Suddenly the page you’re on refreshes. What loads first is the ad, this time for a different shirt that’s admittedly more your style. The tagline reads, “Your life, your look.” Unsettled by the coincidence and feeling like you’ve found yourself in a conversation with your phone you didn’t know you were having, you try to click on a different link. More content loads just at that moment, though, shifting the layout of the page and leading you to click on the ad instead. Surprised, you fumble with your phone to close what’s popped up, but as your panicked fingers slip your phone decides you mean to go through with the order. You adjust your hold on your phone but somehow manage to set off a biometric scan that confirms the purchase.

As if queued by your consumerist momentum, an ad interrupts the movie you’re watching (since when did this streaming service have ads?). The volume seems to increase on its own as the TV blares at you.

“You don’t necessarily feel you age, so why look your age? Our skin cream can miraculously take 5 years off your face, letting your inner youth shine through.” The ad shows a model before and after using the cream. It makes a specific point of telling you the model’s age, which is your age.

You search frantically for the remote to turn the volume down. No matter what angle you point the remote at it, the TV refuses to recognize your button pushing. You get up and simply turn off the TV manually. This gives your virtual assistant device space to chime in with a separate ad.

“Tired of the long commute to your workplace? Find more free time while moving into one of the fastest growing neighbourhoods that’s perfect for you.” The voice emanating from your speakers describes listings in a building that you recognize is half a block away from your office. You run to unplug the device.

One by one more “smart” appliances in your home, devices that you now question their need for internet connectivity, begin to play or display ads that were made to appeal to you exactly.

“Our energy efficient windows fit your green lifestyle!” your thermostat boasts, citing a climate change article you just read.

“Let us deliver the groceries you need for the recipes you love!” your fridge demands, listing off your actual favourite recipes.

“Bzzt!” vibrates your electric toothbrush, calling you to look at its charger’s digital screen and see an ad for a dental clinic, featuring a close up of a mouth you’re weirdly certain is actually yours.

As your apartment comes alive with the sounds of aggressive advertising, you’re terrified. You step out onto the balcony. You think to yourself, and only to yourself, that you need to get away.

A delivery drone floats up from under your balcony and stops right at your eye level. It’s been outfitted with a display monitor. It plays a video.

“Looking for a vacation?” it asks. “Why not fly out to Pasadena, California? You can visit the Cactus & Succulent Society of America’s annual show and sale!”

#creative writing #prose #short story #technology #social media

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isthisclever · 3 years

Text

The Other Side | Chapter 12 Commentary

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 12 "WEIGHT OF SILENCE." PLEASE CATCH UP BEFORE READING.

Like how I lured you in with promises of fluff then hit you with the gut punch later? Does that make me evil? If so....mwahahahahaahahha. 😉

I always like my chapter titles to play out on a lot of levels each time, and I think this one is really important. The silence of the Lallybroch dreams, the silence as Jamie listens to his child's heartbeat, the silence of his comforting Claire after the commotion in the pub, Jamie not being able to intercede for Fergus in his dream. Some joyous silence, some heartbreaking.

I'd actually planned the Fergus dream to be a third chapter ending, but honestly it would've meant either super short chapters or adding in a bunch of filler, and I just decided to move it up. And as I'm plotting out the coming chapters in my head, it actually works out even better the way it did than I was planning. And that's all I'll say.

Regarding Claire's prenatal care/Jamie hearing the heartbeat, I actually tried to do some research into what a prenatal appointment would look like in the 1940s, but all that kept coming up was advice articles about having a baby in your 40s....not super helpful. Knowing of course there were no ultrasounds and fetal dopplers, etc., I really just sort of made it up based on what made sense and what I wanted to happen. I was able to read that following the war, there were a lot more women turning to hospitals/doctors for their birth and natal needs rather than midwifing it at home. So I think it feels true to the time that Claire would've gone to a doctor at least a few times to ensure all was well. If it's not strictly accurate, well...my bad.

I also wanted Jamie to be able to hear the heartbeat and purposefully had Claire not hear it. I almost included him handing it to her to listen and her turning it away. Because in Claire's mind, she has this really unique, personal, intimate experience of carrying their kids that he's always going to be on the outside of. And they both still carry the scars of Faith. Claire really wanted something just for Jamie to hold in his heart, something only he could experience with their kid. I didn't end up including that little exchange just because I think they read each other so well, and Jamie really understood that this was a gift she was giving him alone, not taking for herself.

Dr. Stalworth was a bit of a surprise to me. At first he was just going to be a neutral sort of "get the plot done" type of character, but as he went to help Jamie listen, I realized I wanted him to sort of be this surprising positive force in Inverness, where they really are sort of surrounded by the enemy, so to speak. And I wanted Claire to be surprised by him. I imagine Dr. Stalworth as the same sort of doting, loving parent that Jamie is/would've been. That he views his family as a precious gift rather than just the status of his own station in life, that he spent his time being active in their lives rather than letting the woman tend to the kids, as I imagine a lot of men at the time doing. So seeing that Jamie is that same sort of man, I think he has a lot of respect for the pair of them for it.

Speaking of surrounded by enemies.....the pub scene. I knew I wanted some sort of scene of them in some minor peril, just to show that they may be in a better time, they may have less to worry about, but dangerous people still exist. People who would hurt them. People who would hurt Claire. And it also just continues to play on that theme from Arc I that a lot of the sexism and misogyny that colored how men viewed women in Jamie's time is still there, sometimes subtle and under the surface, and sometimes a lot more apparent. Like how all these men in this pub laughed and thought it appropriate to speak of a woman in such a manner.

Chapter 13 coming this week! And it'll be a big one...

#fanfiction #outlander #jamie fraser #fanfic #ao3 #claire beauchamp #diana gabaldon #alternate universe #craigh na dun #jamie and claire #wip #current wip #the other side #commentary #extras #writing process #am writing

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remywrites5 · 4 years

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Some angsty fluffy smutty jegulus pleaaase?

“I need a favor.”

James looked up as Sirius sat down across from him in the common room. James had been in the middle of working on some Quidditch plays for their next match against Hufflepuff. They only had five more practices before the match and if they lost it they would have a difficult time winning the Quidditch Cup that year. James was determined not to lose.

As loath as he was to stop what he was doing, he put his quill down and looked at his best mate. “What is it?”

“I need you to seduce my brother,” Sirius said, giving James a hard stare.

James’ jaw dropped. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you. You want me to do what now?”

Sirius groaned and dropped his cheek in his hand. “You heard me just fine. I need you to seduce my brother.”

James raised a questioning eyebrow at his friend. “Any particular reason or are you just that bored?”

Sirius’ face suddenly got solemn and sad. James always knew when Sirius got like this it was bad. It did tend to happen whenever the Black family name was brought up. His grey eyes turned cold and got a far off look in them. “I’m worried about him.” Sirius said quietly. “He’s getting in with Rosier, Snape, Mulciber and that lot. Bunch of zealots for you-know-who. If we don’t do something about it he’ll become one of them.”

James sighed heavily. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Sirius but he wasn’t sure he was exactly the man for the job. He already had…complicated feelings where Reg was concerned. “And what am I supposed to do about it?”

Sirius leaned in towards him. “Well, he’s not going to listen to me. I’ve tried and the stubborn idiot just ignores me. He thinks he’s making our parents proud or some such nonsense. But if he knew there was another way – another option – maybe we could snap him out of it.”

“Pads, I – “

“Come on, Jamie, I would do this for you!” Sirius said, clasping his hands together to plead his best friend.

James ran his fingers through his hair and groaned petulantly. “What makes you think he’ll even listen to me? We’re not exactly close!”

Sirius smirked. “Don’t tell him I told you this but he stole your picture from my room. The one Remus took of us after our first Quidditch match playing for Gryffindor. I found it under Reg’s bed so I think he has or at least had a crush on you. It’s a start, right Jamie-boy? Maybe you’ll have better luck with Reg than you ever had with Evans.”

James glowered at him. “I haven’t given up on Evans yet.”

Sirius scoffed in response. “Don’t be an idiot. If you insist on being a glutton for punishment then go talk to Reg. I’m sure he’ll punish you plenty.”

“You’ve got a hell of a way of asking a guy for a favor,” James informed his best friend.

Sirius walked around the table and threw his arm around James’ neck, capturing him in a chokehold and ruffling his hair. “You’re the best, oh glorious James Potter, savior of brothers everywhere. You’ll be a legend! They’ll sing songs to your greatness!”

“Get off!” James said, shoving Sirius away. “Honestly, the things I do for you, Pads.”

Sirius shot him a wink. “That’s why you’re my best mate, Jamie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” James grumbled unhappily.

***

James didn’t really have a plan of attack when it came to Regulus. The younger Black brother was quiet, stoic and reserved. It seemed like the kid hardly spoke. He was the complete antithesis to his brother and James had no idea how to begin.

“Oi Reg!” he called out, jogging down the hall to catch up with him. Regulus turned and eyed James warily. “Wait up!”

“What do you want?” he asked, reaching for his wand defensively.

James held his hands up in surrender. “Just wanted to talk to you, that’s all,” he said, smiling in a friendly manner at his best mate’s brother. He couldn’t believe Sirius had actually asked him to seduce his brother. He hoped he just meant talk some sense into Reg and not…actually seduce him. James hadn’t done more than kiss someone. He couldn’t be expected to do that. And who said he even wanted to shag Regulus in the first place? Because he hadn’t thought about it – of course he hadn’t – it would be wrong to think about shagging in relation to his mate’s brother.

“Fine, talk fast,” Regulus said, still fingering his wand with suspicion. James figured Regulus had very few reasons to trust him.

“I – well – see I was thinking that maybe we could spend some time together?” James suggested, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “We could go for a walk down by the lake or something?”

Regulus glowered at him. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because I’m just so charming?” James offered with a grin. He really hoped Sirius was right about Reg’s crush and that James wasn’t about to get hexed.

“No thanks.” Regulus turned on his heels and continued walking the way he’d been originally headed. James hurried after him and grabbed his arm.

“Come on, Reg, don’t be like that!”

Reg whipped his head around. “Get your hands off me,” he growled warningly. “Potter, I’m warning you – “

“Stop,” James said, putting his hand other Reg’s mouth. “I don’t want to fight you. Just come for a walk with me, okay?”

Regulus blinked a few times and then nodded. James slowly removed both his hands and then shoved them in the pockets of his robes. “I won’t touch you again, I promise.” He took off walking and was surprised to hear Reg’s footsteps following him. He’d given Reg an out, a chance to walk away or hex him when his back was turned. It was encouraging that Reg hadn’t done either of those things.

When they got outside, James stopped for a moment to let Reg catch up and they walked in companionable silence around the grounds. James thought he really should say something to Reg about the path he was on and how dangerous it was. But walking with Reg was nice and James didn’t want to ruin it by making Reg angry again. It wasn’t like he knew what to say anyway.

They got down by the lake and James took a seat, leaning against one of the trees. Regulus stood for a moment and then joined him, keeping a bit of distance between their two bodies. “So Sirius put you up to this, huh?” Reg said, finally breaking the silence between them.

“How did you know?” James asked risking a glance over at Reg. Regulus’ face was the usual mask, not betraying what he was thinking or feeling.

“I figured it was only a matter of time before he got you involved,” he said with a shrug. “When I wouldn’t listen to him I figured he call in backup.”

James sighed and took off his glasses, scrubbing his hand down his face before putting his glasses back. “He’s worried about you.”

“Then he shouldn’t have left home.”

James’ mouth opened and closed a few times indignantly. “He had to leave, surely you must know that. He showed up at my doorstep half dead.”

“And how do you think it’s been for me since he’s been gone?” Regulus hissed, his hands curling into fists. “I don’t have choices anymore. Sirius took them all away from me when he abandoned me. There’s no choice but to play the dutiful son.”

“That’s not true!” James said, wanting to reach out to Regulus but recalling his earlier promise. He kept his arms resolutely by his sides. “You always have a choice, Reg.”

Regulus shook his head. “You’re so naïve, Potter. It’s going to get you killed one of these days.” Reg got gracefully to his feet and smoothed down his hair.

James scrambled up as well and stood facing Reg. “I like to think of myself as optimistic,” he managed to joke. “You should learn to have a little faith in people.”

Regulus sighed and took a step back. “I don’t have that luxury anymore. I don’t have anyone. Thanks for the walk, Potter.”

Regulus turned to go and James felt his heart begin to race. That couldn’t be it, it just couldn’t. He wasn’t about to fail his best mate and let Regulus believe that things were so hopeless. “Wait!” he called out, reaching out and grabbing Reg by the back of his robes.

“Potter – “

“I’m not actually touching you,” James reasoned, tightening his grip on Reg’s robes. “And I’m not giving up on you. Neither is Sirius. I don’t care what it takes, I’m not going to lose you to them.”

James saw the flash from the tip of Reg’s wand before he heard the spell. His arms and legs seized up and he fell to the ground. A moment later Reg appeared in his field of vision, smiling smugly. It was so rare to see Reg display any kind of emotion and James couldn’t help soaking it in greedily, even if it was at his expense. He’d gladly take a hundred curses if it meant Reg would smile. Reg crouched down over James and pushed his fringe off his forehead. “I used to be so in love with you,” Reg said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to James’ forehead. “Now it seems so childish. Love is for fools, you see, and I don’t want to be in love with anyone, least of all you. Don’t talk to me again, James. It’s a lost cause.”

Regulus straightened up and began walking. He’d gotten fairly far away when James felt himself get hit with the counter-curse. He sat up and watched Regulus disappear back into the school.

***

James slipped his invisibility cloak over himself and got out of bed. Once he’d made it out of the Gryffindor common room he whispered a quick lumos on his wand so that he could see to get down to the dungeons. He had the map with him as well so that he could avoid Peeves or any professors out patrolling the halls.

He knew he was taking a risk going to the Slytherin dormitories but he had to speak to Reg and so far the younger Black brother had done an excellent job of avoiding James at all cost. He would have been annoyed by it if he hadn’t been so impressed.

A sneak attack was his only option and to catch Reg off guard. If that meant getting hexed again then so be it. There was more at stake here than just James’ pride.

Once he was inside the Slytherin common room it was just a matter of finding the right dormitory. He sat down on the ground and spread the map out in front of him, looking for Reg’s feet. Once he found them it was just a matter of figuring out where that was in relation to himself.

He folded the map back up and shoved it in his pocket, making his way toward Reg’s dorm. Once he’d gotten to the right one, he shoved the door open and closed it behind him, making sure to cause as little sound as possible. It felt strange coming into the Slytherin house without the intention of a prank. The whole place had a sickly green color to it from being located under the lake. He had no idea how anyone slept there.

He meticulously and quietly checked the beds until he found that familiar mop of dark hair. Sliding inside, he closed the curtains behind him and pulled off the invisibility cloak. “Reg,” he whispered harshly, jostling the Slytherin’s shoulder. “Reg!”

“What?” Reg grumbled sleepily, his eyes fluttering open. “James!”

James put his fingers to his lips. “Shh. If you wake up the others I’m a dead man.”

Regulus sat up and crossed his arms over his chest. “You might be anyway.”

James smirked and shuffled forwards, closer to Reg, placing his wand next to them on the bed. “I wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” James said with a nonchalant shrug. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Yes, Potter, usually a good indication that a person does not wish to see you,” Regulus hissed at him. “Merlin’s beard, you’re infuriating.”

“Please don’t hex me again,” James said, crawling forward until he was straddling Reg’s lap. “My delicate sensibilities can’t take it.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “You’re not fooling anyone, James. What do you want? You have ten seconds to tell me before I start screaming.”

James huffed in exasperation. “I just wanted to talk to you, I swear. I didn’t like the way we left things. I want…I want you to still be in love with me.”

Regulus worked his jaw angrily for a moment, grinding his teeth together. “Why?”

“I don’t want you to be that far gone,” James whispered, reaching out and cupping Reg’s cheek, his thumb brushing over his high cheekbone. He was so much like Sirius, so similar and yet cold in all the ways Sirius was warm. James thought maybe he just needed to light a little fire to bring it out of Reg.

“So you’re trying to save me, is that it?”

“Yes,” James said simply. “I don’t care if you consider yourself a lost cause. I haven’t given up on you yet, Regulus Black. And you can call that naïve or stupid or whatever you want, I’ll take it all gladly if it means you don’t give up just yet.”

Reg’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “My life will be a hell,” he said, his eyes growing scared, haunted as if recalling a memory. “I’ll have nowhere to go. My house will turn on me. My family will turn on me. I’ll have nowhere to go. I don’t have friend the way Sirius does, at least not ones that aren’t already mixed up in all this. You want me to put all my faith in you? I can’t, James, it’s too much. You’ll leave me no recourse, no quarter, no retreat. Don’t you get it, it’s all or nothing, and I can’t gamble it on a childhood crush.”

“You’re not a child, Reg,” James said softly. “If it’s all or nothing then give me it all. I’ll take it. I can – I can – I swear it.” James leaned in and pressed kisses to anywhere on Reg he could find, his nose, his cheeks, and his forehead. “It’s not too late,” he whispered again and again between each kiss to Reg’s skin. Regulus turned his head and captured James’ lips in a searing kiss that made James gasp with the intensity of it.

“James,” Regulus said, his voice sounding broken. “If you’re just doing this because of Sirius –“

“I’m not,” James said, shaking his head. Although it had started out that way, James knew this was beyond helping out his friend. This was a fight for Reg’s soul and James was damned if was going to lose. James Potter hated losing and this was more important that a Quidditch match or a game of chess. He was going to give it his all. “You’re not alone anymore, Reg. I’ve got you.”

Regulus choked back a sob and wound his arms around James, pulling him down into a tight hug. James went willingly, sliding his arms under Reg and holding him in return. “What do I do, James? What do I do now?”

James smiled, something like hope filling his chest. “Love me with everything you’ve got, Reg, and I’ll do the same.”

Regulus looked up at James, his grey eyes having gone soft. “James Potter, I’ll love you until the day I die.”

“Careful Reg, you’re starting to sound like an optimist,” James joked with a lopsided grin. His lips found their way back to Reg’s and he kissed him like it was the end of the world and the beginning of a new one. As Regulus kissed him back it felt a bit like winning, and how James Potter loved to win.

#jegulus #this isn't very smutty #sorry #i write things #long post #anon prompt #hogwarts #angst #James Potter x Regulus Black

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

Note

Wishing you were my Arthur right now, lol. Omg, can write something like that? Arthur is taken by another woman and reader wishes she's that woman. A forbidden love kind of thing? I don't want him to be a cheater but I like to think it's natural for him to also wish he'd rather date the reader but can't. If that's too much, then do the first part? I'm sorry! 😦

Hello, Anon! That is so sweet, I’d love to do a scenario for you and Arthur! Tell me some things about yourself and I’ll see what I can do! 😊

This one was fun, even if it did take a long time. It’s been a hellish few weeks and honestly I don’t remember most of the things that happened.

You stand on the edge of Horseshoe Overlook, enjoying your morning coffee. An eagle soars overhead, swirling in lazy circles in the gentle breeze. This place is beautiful, Hosea couldn’t have picked a better spot.

You hear the sound of a horse coming up the trail behind you. Looking over to your left, you see Arthur’s horse coming up the hill with the man himself astride it. Behind him sits Mary, her arms wound around him. You wrinkle your nose in disgust as though she were a bad smell, but you go back to drinking your coffee and pretending you didn’t see them.

Arthur knows you did, of course. He’s horribly aware that everyone’s eyes are on him and Mary. He hadn’t expected to get back together with her, it’d been the last thing he thought would happen when he received her letter. He helped her brother, of course he did. Arthur was just the kind of man to help anyone in need unless they gave him a reason not to. When he’d brought Jamie back to Mary, she’d clasped his hands and kissed him.

“Oh Arthur,” she’d said, “I’ve missed you more than I can say. You know I… I only married Barry because it was what daddy wanted, but he’s dead now. I’m willin’ to take another chance with you if you’ll have me.”

Arthur’s heart felt ripped in two when she’d said this to him. There was a part of him that was overjoyed, but another part that wanted to cringe and tell her to leave him alone. Deep down he knew if things hadn’t worked the first time, they wouldn’t this time. He’d only end up with a broken heart again. Not only that, he’d had his eye on you for some time.

Although you’ve only been with the gang a few months, about as long as Charles and Micah, you and Arthur clicked immediately. It didn’t take long for you two to develop a crush on one another, but neither of you would act upon it. Arthur was handsome and too good for you. A man like him would certainly never go for you. You didn’t blame him either. Hell, you wouldn’t be interested in you. Arthur felt the same way about himself when it came to you. He saw himself as nothing more than a killer, a robber. A bad man. No way could someone as sweet and gentle as you want to be seen with a man like himself. No, Mary was what he deserved, he told himself.

Ever since Arthur and Mary got back together, he’s been going off to see her more often. Since she already knew about the gang, no one had any qualms about him bringing her to camp, even though many of them didn’t like her. You aren’t a fan either. Sure, Mary’s pretty, smart and strong. But she’s not unique in that aspect. Mary-Beth’s smart, Tilly’s pretty and Karen could knock Mary’s teeth out if she wanted to. What they didn’t have that Mary did was her ego. It was clear to you upon first meeting her that she saw herself as better than everyone in the gang, Arthur included. It was just the way she talked to them, how she would never invite anyone to start a conversation. Most of the time when she was in camp, she acted like she didn’t want to be and she’d beg Arthur to go somewhere else with her. You had to bite your tongue, feeling sure she was dragging him off someplace to have some mind-blowing sex, which did nothing to lighten your mood.

It wasn’t just the way Mary talked to you and the others in the gang that made you hate her. Most of it was how she talked to Arthur, always putting him down in some way. Once you’d been passing his tent when she’d been in there with him and it was clear she was trying to get him to do something he didn’t want to do. “I shoulda had you hung years ago. You’ll never change, Arthur.”

That made you want to go in there and rip her hair out. How dare she threaten him that way? Did she talk to her late husband in the same manner? You doubt it, as he was likely a law-abiding man. You argued that following laws set by a bunch of men didn’t make people good. Hell, you grew up in a law-abiding family and most of the people during that part of your life treated you and everyone else like shit. Here, in this gang of outlaws and criminals, you’ve never known such a tight-knit family. Everyone looks out for one another. Sure, people argue and fight, but they’re still family and the whole gang would be moved to action if a single person was in danger.

Arthur knows the gang isn’t happy to see Mary riding behind him. He dismounts and helps her off. He wants nothing more than to rip his arm out of her grasp. He regrets getting back into this relationship with her. He’s always had a low opinion of himself, but being with her has made him realize how truly horrible he is. He wonders why someone as good as her could want to be with him. He spots you by the cliff, drinking coffee in the morning light. You look so beautiful. What he wouldn’t give to be standing by your side, your hand wrapped around his arm instead of Mary’s. But that can never be. You’re too perfect for him.

He sidles over to his tent with Mary. Dutch gives him a tense nod. He clearly wants to talk with Arthur, likely about a job, but he holds his tongue when Mary’s around. He knows, along with everyone else, that if she doesn’t like even the slightest thing, she could very easily go running off to the sheriff and turn them all in. That’s the only reason why her presence is tolerated, that and out of respect for Arthur. Arthur’s not a fool though, he knows most people walk on eggshells when she’s around. He doesn’t bring her to camp often, only whenever he needs to talk to someone or pick up something and then he heads off somewhere else with her.

Arthur’s here to just drop off some fish to Pearson now. He’d suggested fishing when he picked up Mary. She hadn’t wanted to do it as she found it boring, but Arthur wanted to make sure his people had something to eat tonight. She’d relented at that. You eye her across camp now. Why can she not see how good of a man Arthur is? He’d break his own back if he had to for the gang. She’s not good enough for him, which means you’re definitely not either. Hell, you’ve committed almost enough crimes to get as heavy a bounty as Arthur, including murder. You go back to your cold coffee, though you’ve lost all interest.

Before Arthur had gotten back with Mary, you two were becoming close friends. He took you out on a lot of hunting trips and you were sure one time he almost kissed you. It’d been under a tree and you’d been caught by a sudden rainstorm. Soaking wet and slightly cold, you both huddled under the tree, wrapped around each other to stay warm. Your faces had been inches apart and you desperately wanted to press your lips to his, but you wouldn’t. You couldn’t destroy your friendship with him like that, your desires weren’t worth it. You’d rather have him in your life as a friend than not at all because you couldn’t keep your crush to yourself.

It broke your heart when he’d shown up in camp with Mary the first time and when people asked, he’d announced why she was there. You’d heard enough about her before to know she only used him for her own gains and then always tossed him aside when he was no longer useful. At least that’s what the others said. Hosea told you a bit about what their first relationship was like and why it hadn’t worked. So when Arthur showed up, his arm in her hand and a big smile on his face, you started pulling away from him. You had to in order to protect himself.

It hurt Arthur when you did that. You no longer went hunting or fishing with him, he stopped asking you to help him on small jobs. He understood why you did, most of the others changed towards him too when he brought Mary in. It just made him regret taking her back all that much more. He wanted to end things with her already, but she had some sort of pull on him. Whenever he thought about leaving, she seemed to sense it and she’d kiss him and fawn over him and make him think things might be okay, then she’d slip back into her habits of insulting him.

Arthur couldn’t even say that the sex was good enough for him to stay, it wasn’t happening at all. Mary had a firm stance against premarital sex. He respected her wishes, of course, he was easily capable of taking care of himself if he needed to. However, when he was with Mary, he felt no desire to be with her intimately. He used to when they were first dating, but things had ended so badly that he blamed his lack of interest on that. A voice from a dark corner of his mind told him that he wasn’t attracted to her because he wanted you. He shoved that voice out of his mind though, he’d already told himself he wasn’t going after you. He wouldn’t ruin your life like that.

He drops the fish off to Pearson and as he turns away to go back to Mary, he bumps into you as you’d been going back to put your coffee tin in the water barrel.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he says.

“No, it’s okay, Arthur,” you say, quickly looking away. “You, uh, heading off with Mary again?” You try keeping the accusations from your voice.

He shuffles his feet a bit. “Uh, yeah. She wants to go see one of them movin’ pictures, I guess.”

“I see. Well, have fun.” You turn away quickly before he can say anything else. He realizes he genuinely misses you. Whenever he needed to talk, you were always there and easy to talk to. Not only that, you were always telling jokes, making him laugh. Your cool, easy-going temperament was infectious to him and he found himself becoming more steady and less angry in your presence. Now that he rarely gets to see you, he finds he’s gotten more angry again. He runs up behind you, calling your name softly.

“Y/N, I just wanted to ask ya somethin’. Would, uh, would ya wanna go on a huntin’ trip with me soon? Pearson’s getting low again and, well, you’re a good shot. What you think?”

You’ve kept a steady gaze on him but when he’s done you glance over at Mary. Is that all you are to him, just a steady shot? “I don’t know, Arthur. Grimshaw’s keeping me pretty busy.” That’s a downright lie. Sure, Grimshaw’s been breathing down your neck, but no more than she always has and no more than she’s done with the other girls. “Besides, Arthur, what would Mary say if she found out you went out for three days alone with another girl? If I were her, I’d be suspicious.”

Arthur sighs and knows what you mean. He can’t have friends who happen to be women with Mary. Because of him being a criminal she’d suspect him of being a cheater too. “Right, o-of course. Well, just thought I’d ask. Looked like ya might need to get some time away from this camp.”

He walks back to Mary, looking miserable. He’s right, you do need a break from this camp. You’re tired, tired of Grimshaw’s barking and Dutch constantly screaming about faith and his plans. Tired of Pearson’s same stew every night, tired of everything here. You’ve missed the hunting trips with Arthur more than you thought possible. Your lip trembles as he walks away. You goddamn fool, you think. He’s just trying to help you and you can’t get over your jealousy.

Shortly after Arthur leaves with Mary, you decide to head out of camp too. Pearson gives you a shopping list, so you jump on the opportunity. You sidle into Valentine’s shop and give the shopkeeper your list. He snaps at a shopboy who starts gathering things and putting them into the wagon you drove here. As you’re browsing the shelves, the front door opens and Arthur walks in.

“Oh, hi Y/N,” he says, coming over. “You doin’ a’right?”

You nod. “Pearson just needed some things. Is uh, Mary outside waiting?”

He sighs and looks out the window. “Yeah, she is. I just needed to buy some provisions. I gotta go huntin’, with or without you. Camp’s gotta eat somehow.”

Your gut clenches with a bit of guilt. “I see. You takin’ Mary with you?”

“No. No she’s never shot a gun. I’ve offered to teach her how but she says she’ll be damned before she touches a gun. Says if she does it’s a slippery slope to turnin’ into one of the other girls from camp.”

Your face flushes with anger. She really does think herself better than the rest of the gang just because she’s never robbed anybody. Yet here she is, abusing Arthur and judging everybody else.

“Why are you with her, Arthur?” you ask before you can stop yourself. “I don’t have a lot of experience with dating, but I’d find it difficult to be with anyone who could so easily insult those I called family.”

Arthur dips his head, hiding his eyes. “It’s complicated, Y/N.”

“No, it’s not. Someone who can insult your family so easily can’t hold much respect for you. Seriously, why do you let her treat you this way?”

“Why do you care?” he snaps. “It ain’t none of your business.You don’t know Mary, I pulled some bad crap towards her when I was young. She’s got her reasons for being the way she is.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to put up with it, Arthur. Your relationship with her won’t work if she’s got no respect for you. No healthy relationship can last without it.”

“Like I said, Y/N, why do you care?” His eyes bore into yours, the blue turning cold. You swallow nervously.

“I guess I don’t care, Arthur,” you snap. “You be with her if it’s what makes you happy. I won’t bother you anymore.”

Before he can say anything, you push past him and march out the doors. You throw Mary a dirty look and get into the cart and go back to camp. She ignores you, though it’s obvious she’d seen.

Later that night when Arthur comes into camp, alone this time, you completely ignore him. It’s obvious to you at this point that he doesn’t want you interfering with his life in even the smallest way, so you won’t go digging around in his business any longer. He wants Mary to treat him like the tread of her boot? Fine, let him. He walks over to you at the fire and gently calls your name, wanting to talk things through. He wanted so desperately to admit to you that he’s miserable with Mary, but you’d walked out before he could say anything. When he calls to you though, you pointedly ignore him. He gets the message and goes to his cot.

In the morning, Arthur approaches you near Pearson’s fire where you’re pouring a cup of coffee.

“Y/N, can I talk to ya?” he said. He’d spent half the night lying awake, trying to think of how he can talk to you about Mary. He knows this fling with her can’t last much longer, but he’s afraid the more he tries to escape, the tighter she’ll hold onto him.

You straighten up and look at him. “Why do you want to talk to me?” you say sharply. “Thought you wanted me to have no part in your business.”

He hangs his head again. “I-I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to get so defensive yesterday, I always do when it comes to her. But look, I… I really need to talk to someone about this whole thing with Mary.”

“Hmm, well, go talk to Hosea. He’s good with advice.” You start walking away. You’re still stung by his words from yesterday.

“Y/N, please,” he says loudly after you’ve only taken a few steps. You can hear the pain in his voice. You sigh and turn around to look at him.

“Why?” you say, softer this time. “Why the hell would you want me to hear about anything going on in your life, Arthur?”

He takes a few steps closer to you. “Because I know I can tell ya anythin’, Y/N, and you won’t judge me for it. Just please, give me a few minutes and then I won’t bother ya anymore.”

That stings again. Here you were thinking you’d been bothering him. “Okay, Arthur.”

You go into the trees with him and almost to the main trail leading to Valentine. Arthur stops there, staring off down the path to the river. He’s silent for a few moments, and you are too. You want him to be the one who speaks up first since this is his problem.

“Yesterday when ya said I should stay with her if I was happy, I wanted to tell you that I’m not. Not happy, that is. I don’t know what it is, but that woman knows exactly how to play me. Whenever I pull away in the slightest, she reels me back in. I don’t know what to do, Y/N.”

“You think I do?” you say quickly. “I don’t know a thing about her, except what gossip has been tossed around camp since you started bringing her around and I don’t know how much of that is true.”

He sighs. “I know, and I got no business draggin’ ya into my problems. But, Y/N,” he turns to you and reaches for your hand. “I’ve missed havin’ ya around. I always knew I could tell ya anythin’, that I could be honest and open. I can’t do that with Mary. Seems we always fight whenever I tell her even a shred about my life.”

“I’m sure, I uh, heard her the other day saying she should’ve turned you in years ago. Has she always been like that?”

“Not always. In the beginning, all them years ago, she weren’t. But then I… we were gonna get married and then her awful daddy got involved. After that, I did some stuff for the gang that caused some attention and it made her mad. She left me after that, said some bad things too. Told her after that I wanted nothin’ with her no more.”

“So why did she call on you a few weeks ago? If she knew things were over between you…”

“Well, her husband passed away and she needed someone to help her brother. He got involved with some religious bunch of crazies.”

“Ah, so she needed someone scary enough to go after him and you’re the most frightening person she knows.”

“Guess that about sums it up,” he says. You look down at your joined hands and squeeze a little.

“You’d think with her seeing you as this violent, scary person, she’d be a little less belittling.”

Arthur sighs and looks down the path again.

“She used to know how kind you can be, didn’t she?” you say, realizing what his silence means. He looks down and nods.

“I really loved her, Y/N, but when things ended between us and I learned she married another man, it broke my heart. I never wanted nothin’ to do with her. But when she wrote to me and asked for help, I couldn’t say no. I owed it to her. Guess I was hopin’ I could fix one of my many mistakes.”

“And now she has you completely wrapped around your fingers.” You let go of his hand and cross your arms over your chest. “How long will this run last, Arthur? How long before you end up doing something real stupid that finally pushes her over the edge and she decides it’s over? Or worse, how long before you decide to marry her?”

His eyes shoot up to yours. “I don’t wanna marry her, Y/N. I’d have to love her to wanna do that.”

“So then why are you with her? If you don’t love her, end the relationship!”

“I want to, but like I said, she’s got some kind of hold of me. I… I want nothin’ more than to end it. Truth is, there’s someone else I’d rather be with. But she’s way too good for me.”

“Who?” you say, genuinely perplexed. “Mary-Beth? Know she’s got a bit of a thing for you. Don’t tell me you’re thinking of Karen, she’s with Sean and they fit together. Tilly, she’s cute. Can be a little scary-”

You didn’t see the way he smiled when you started rambling about the girls, but when he saw you weren’t going to stop, he put a hand behind your head and pulled you to him, your lips meeting. You’re stunned into silence, but just when he starts to pull away, your hands grip his shoulders, keeping you to him. Something in your chest purrs, a hunger you didn’t even know was there begins to melt away. He smells good, like grass and pine, old leather and tobacco leaves. His lips are slightly chapped and warm, God are they warm. His arm winds around your back and you clasp the back of his head, sinking deeper into the kiss.

Finally, after what feels like years, you break off, slightly breathless. You stare up at Arthur, his cheeks rosy. He smiles a bit but then it fades.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I never meant for ya to get involved in all this crap.”

You stare into his beautiful blue eyes. Your hand goes to his cheek, his jaw lightly stubbled. “Don’t be, Arthur. I’ve…” It’s your turn to blush. “I’ve dreamt about what it would be like to kiss you for ages, never thought it would be that good.”

He smiles and leans forward to kiss you again. You want to so bad, but you stop him. “Arthur, we shouldn’t. Not until this Mary business is sorted out. I don’t like her, but it’s not fair to her.”

He sighs and pulls away, nodding. “You’re right. Well, I’m supposed to go see her later today. Come with me, Y/N. I’m gonna tell her things are over.”

You nod and smile. “Of course I will. Hell, if I have to kiss you in order to get her to leave you alone, I certainly will. I’ll take any opportunity to do that again.”

His grin makes your heart flutter. A few hours later, you’re going along the trail with him to where Mary’s staying. She doesn’t live in Valentine, she’s just staying with a family friend in a little farmhouse just outside the town.

Arthur steps onto the porch with you by his side and knocks on the door. A moment later, Mary opens it. Her eyes meet yours for a moment before she goes back to him. She’s certainly worked hard to make herself look prettier, even applying powder to her face and her hair plaited down her back.

“Hello, Arthur.”

“Mary. I um, I think you and I need to talk.”

She glances at you again and then steps out, closing the door behind her. “May we do this in private, Arthur?”

He looks at you a second and you nod, going back to the horses where you can see them but can’t hear them. You pretend to brush your horse when really you’re watching them. Arthur takes off his hat and says something, but his back is to you so you can’t tell what he’s saying. You can guess based off Mary’s face. Her hands clasp together and her brows furrow. She says something, looking confused and angry. Arthur responds and then she walks away from him to the other side of the porch, looking almost like she’s searching for an answer. She turns around and says something to him, Arthur shakes his head. He puts his hat on and then walks down the stairs, towards you. Mary puts her hands on the rails of the porch and hollers, “I shoulda had you hung years ago, Arthur Morgan!”

You throw down your brush and march up the porch to her. “What the fuck is the matter with you? You treat everyone this way when they make you mad?”

“I don’t know you,” she says, her face clearing.

“Well you can know me from now on as Arthur’s girl, and I ain’t letting some snotty brat talk to my man like that. If you ever send a letter to him begging for his help, I will come to you and I will put a bullet between those pretty eyes, you got me?”

Mary swallows. She looks over to Arthur, who seems stunned by your response.

“I didn’t mean… I just….”

“You were just trying to manipulate him, you ass,” you say. “You don’t love him. Maybe you did once, but now he’s just something for you to play with and control. Well, it may come as a shock to you, Mary, but Arthur’s a person! Just because he’s an outlaw doesn’t mean he’s incapable of feeling. If you mention him or any of my family to anyone, I will destroy your entire life.” You spit at her feet for good measure and then march down stairs. When you get to Arthur, you stretch up and kiss him on the cheek. When you look back at Mary, she’s burst into tears.

“Did you really have to do that?” he huffs softly in your ear as you go to your horses.

“Had to get the message across, didn’t I? Now how about you and I go somewhere and have a proper first kiss?”

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #awkward asks #red dead redemption 2

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crue-sixx · 5 years

Text

Scary Movie Marathon (Mötley Crüe Imagine)

Summary: You and the boys all decide to celebrate the beginning of October by watching some scary movies.

You were sat on the couch between your two friends, Nikki Sixx and Mick Mars, balancing a bowl of popcorn in your lap with one hand while the other held a beer. The youngest member of the group, Tommy Lee, was sitting in a lawn chair that served as furniture as Vince Neil sat on the dingy carpet in front of you. You were all focused on the small tv set that was playing a scary movie, Halloween to be exact. You managed to find the boys a cheap vhs player and provided the movies for the night’s scary movie marathon.

“Jamie Lee is so fucking hot,” Vince commented as it showed her on the screen, running from the house that housed her dead friends and her killer brother.

“I second that statement,” Tommy replied after finishing off his beer and throwing the bottle off to the side, not caring where it went. “Just look at her running, dude.”

“Bunch of fucking perverts,” you mumbled and rolled your eyes at the two guys.

“Hey, don’t be so bitter just because we’re not eye fucking you for once,” Vince retorted and Tommy laughed.

“Eww,” you replied and smacked the back of Vince’s head before throwing some popcorn at Tommy.

Vince rubbed the back of his head with a scowl as Tommy shrugged and picked up the stray popcorn that was on his chest, eating it. Mick watched the young drummer before rolling his eyes at him. He then took a sip of his beer and focused back on the television. You all enjoyed the rest of the film with no other interruptions.

It was Nikki’s turn to pick out the movie so he did just that as you went into the kitchen to make some more popcorn. You were all going through it pretty quickly. Tommy and Nikki were like human garbage disposals. They could eat a good amount of anything.

“So what are we watching, fellas?” You asked as you took your spot on the couch again. Mick was still in his same spot, but Tommy was now sitting beside you with Nikki in the lawn chair.

“The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” Nikki announced and pressed play on the vhs player.

Your eyes widened as you looked over at the bassist. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre? You didn’t even own that movie so how in the hell were you all about to watch that one? You were a horror movie fan, but you’d never watched that one. That movie freaked you out way too much for some reason. You remember when it came out when you were younger and being too terrified to watch it. Maybe it was how scary Learherface made himself look or the sound of the chainsaw he used. It could also be the fact that they claimed that the events of the movie had happened though you had learned that that was not the case. You weren’t sure what it was, but that movie just freaked you out.

“But...but I didn’t bring that one,” you said to him.

“No, but I found a used copy real cheap at a video store,” he replied and shrugged. “It’s a classic and I saw that you didn’t bring it so I did the honors.”

You nodded once and tried to play off your uneasiness in a cool manner. The boys would never let you hear the end of it if they knew that you were actually scared of a horror movie. Instead, you swallowed down the rest of your beer for some liquid courage and discreetly scooted closer to Mick, who had his arm resting on the back of the couch.

You nervously munched on the popcorn as the movie played. Tommy was helping himself to some as well as Vince. Nikki and Mick were too engrossed in the film and drinking to concern themselves with popcorn. The movie wasn’t as scary as you thought it would be at first. It was pretty interesting and Leatherface had yet to make an appearance. You were all good till the sounds of a chainsaw came into play. You gripped the bowl of popcorn and winced as you watched it all play out. It didn’t really show anything, thank goodness, but it still freaked you out. The ending of the movie was what really did it for you. Leatherface going after that girl with the chainsaw and running wild with it...it was so freaky.

“Y/N, you good?” Mick asked you when he noticed the look on your face.

“What?” You asked him as you glanced over at him. “Yeah, I’m all good. What’s next?”

“We’re all pretty tired so we thought we would call it a night,” Nikki said as he stood from the chair and stretched.

Your eyes widened slightly at the prospect of going home...alone. Sure, Mick would drive you home, but you would be all alone after that with no roommates or anyone.

“Why?” You quickly asked. “It’s still pretty early. We could watch a couple of more.”

“It’s after two in the morning, babe,” Tommy said. “We’re going to have to get in some actual band practice early tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you replied and frowned a bit as you put the bowl of popcorn down. “Well, do you think I could stay the night?”

“You freaked out after all those horror movies or something?” Vince jokingly asked as he stood up and chuckled.

“No,” you answered too quickly, which had all of the guys looking at you. You cleared your throat and tried to recover from your reply. “I mean, no...of course not. Just felt like staying over is all.”

“If you say so,” Vince said and shrugged, not seeming convinced.

“You can bunk with me, Y/N,” Tommy said with a smirk as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “I’ll keep you safe, babe.”

“I am not sharing a bed with you again, Tommy,” you replied and shook his arm away. “You fucking snore. Also, I woke up with something pressed against my back the last time and it was not my most pleasant wake up call.”

Nikki and Vince sniggered as Mick shook his head with an amused grin nonetheless. Tommy wore an offended look, but you knew he wasn’t truly hurt. You were all always poking fun at each other. Nikki offered for you to crash with him in his room since he didn’t have to share it with anyone else. You accepted his offer, happily. You gave Mick a hug before he made his way out of the apartment through the window.

The rest of you retired to the bedrooms. Nikki gave you one of his few clean shirts to wear so you changed into it as he went into the bathroom. You were already laying in bed when he came back in in just his underwear. He switched the light off before he climbed into bed with you. It wasn’t awkward to be sleeping with him in such a way. It wouldn’t be the first time and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. You’d been friends with him for a while with nothing happening between the two of you much to your dismay. You even knew him back when he still went by Frank.

“So chainsaws freak you out then?” Nikki asked in amusement as you both laid there.

“Shut up, Nikki,” you told him and you could hear him chuckle.

“Better come snuggle up to me,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe from Leatherface. He could hang out around here with how sketchy this area of town is. He seems to go for pretty young things after all. Likes wearing their faces.”

“Shut up, Nikki!” You exclaimed and turned over to him, punching his arm. “You’re not safe either cause you’re pretty too, you bastard! Prettier than me even!”

Nikki laughed and you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the grin on your own face. You ended up scooting in close to him, however, and he wrapped his arms around you in return. It was comforting and nice laying there with him like that. You’d harbored feelings for the man for a while, but never acted upon them.

“This is nice,” Nikki said and you looked at him, being able to see him through the bit of moonlight coming from his window.

“What?” You asked. “Laying here and being afraid that I’m going to hear the noise of a chainsaw any minute now?”

“No,” Nikki replied and chuckled. “Just laying here with you. I like when you sleep over. It just feels right laying here with you.”

You blushed at his words, not knowing what to say to them. You hadn’t expected that to come from Nikki Sixx. He looked back at you with a smile and you smiled back. You both started leaning into each other more and your lips were about to meet before his door busted open. You jumped away and looked, finding Tommy running in.

“Leatherface is after me, help!” He yelled as Vince ran in as well with some sort of deli meat on his face acting as a mask.

“I’ll make you fucking think Leatherface you bunch of assholes!” You yelled and threw pillows at them both before you jumped out of bed, running after them.

Nikki stayed put in the bed and smiled as he rest his hands behind his head, hearing his two bandmates scream as you inflicted whatever sort of pain on them. “That’s my girl.”

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allie1804-fan · 4 years

Text

New Beginnings (Chapter 3)

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New Beginnings Baby Drabble

New Beginnings Baby Drabble No2

6 months later (November)

It was a Saturday morning at around 9 when Emily stirred from her slumber, easing out from under Keanu’s grasp to go to the bathroom. As she wiped herself after taking a leak, she felt the tell-tale sign that her period had started.She drew a shaky breath and tried to get herself under control but it was no good. Anger and sadness filled her with bitterness. She knew rationally that this could take a while and 6 months was nothing in the scheme of things but it was relentless having the monthly reminder that they had failed again. She decided on a hot shower to soothe her tension away and got up from the toilet to turn the water on.

“think positive thoughts” she berated herself as the water tumbled down “you have a girly lunch with Chloe today, that will cheer you up and maybe you can talk over these raging feelings with her”

As she washed the shampoo suds out of her hair she heard the shower door slide open and Keanu stepped in behind her immediately wrapping his arms around her.

“Morning sweethe…. don’t” she interrupted her greeting, yelping as his fingers had started to trail to her opening”

“What?, I thought you liked that!”

“I do, usually - sorry love, it’s just, you don’t wanna go there, I just got my period” she huffed, looking up at him over her shoulder with sad eyes”

He pulled her round to face him and hugged her close.

“Try not to worry, darling, we’ll get there, it just sometimes takes a while I guess”

Emily nodded back, a stray tear leaking out which he smoothed away with his thumb.

“Don’t you have plans today? Lunch with Chloe on the Drive right?”

“Yeah, what are you doing?”

“biking and lunch with the boys – be back around 5 I expect”

Over breakfast Chloe started on a topic she didn’t think would go down well with Keanu but she couldn’t stop herself

“Do you think we should maybe do anything different, you know to help our chances?”

“like what?”

“Well maybe like trying to be a bit healthier?”

“We are healthy, aren’t we? – I mean we eat well. Don’t drink that much……….. oh I see where this is going. So this is my fault now because I smoke right?”

“I never said it was anyone’s fault Ke – I just want to move ahead and maybe that might help. Listen, you don’t have to give anything up. It’s just an idea is all”

Keanu stepped around the kitchen island. His face was contrite as he wrapped his arms around her gently.

“I’m sorry, I over-reacted. I know this is especially hard on you ….”

“Oh so it’s OK for you because you don’t really mind either way huh?”

“Jesus Christ woman, no that’s not what I meant. I just meant everything feels focussed on your body – if we succeed, you’ll be sick and all that and when we don’t succeed you have the reminder of your period driving you crazy, that’s all I meant! And if you recall, it was me who brought up the idea first, not you so don’t say I don’t want this!”

“God sorry, sorry – I’m just crabby. Ignore me”

He hugged her to him “take a taxi to lunch, go drink espresso martinis, champagne – whatever you want. Take my American Express card and go shopping on Rodeo Drive after!”

She laughed and hugged him back.

“Good plan Reeves – I might take you up on that”

They puttered around the house getting ready for their respective trips both looking forward to time with other people after the tension of the morning.

Emily met with Chloe at 208 Rodeo at noon hugging her tightly.

“Boy, I really, really need this” she exclaimed. I’m gonna drink myself a little bit silly then take you up to the shops on the drive and exploit my boyfriend’s credit card, deal?”

“Sure” Chloe said brightly though Emily caught the whisper of hesitation in her manner. Brushing it off, they headed in to get their table by the window.

“So how’s tricks?” Emily asked

“No, no you first, you’ve always got more interesting things going on than me” Chloe protested.

“Well if interesting is getting my period again then your life must be really dull!” Emily grimaced.

Chloe was the only person she’d trusted with the secret that she and Keanu were trying for a baby and for the first 5 months she’d sent ‘crying face’ emoji’s to Chloe each month when the bad news came.

The waitress came back just as Chloe had taken Emily’s hand in hers giving it a squeeze, a pained look on her face.

“2 espresso martinis to start us off ” Emily exclaimed.

“no no not for me Chloe exclaimed. Just a white wine spritzer. I can’t take the hard stuff at lunch.

“Spoil sport” Emily pouted.

Their drinks came and they placed their orders for lunch, settling back to their prior conversation.

“Listen, Em, you’ll get there in the end. It’s just random luck you know. It took ages, you know like well over a year for Jamie and” she paused

“and what?”

“and nothing, I just mean it can take a while. I know it’s super frustrating but, you know it can’t be so bad doing the deed with him can it”

Emily giggled and blushed

“Ok, ok you got me there. I’ll try to chill but I guess it’s just starting to grate and then I end up looking for advice on the internet and this morning I brought up his smoking ….”

“Oh! and how did that go?”

“badly I’d say, he got real defensive, then guilty. I was just so tetchy – my period came this morning and I’d started to hope some of my now obviously pre-menstrual symptoms were, you know, symptoms!”

“It’s such a bitch that they are basically the same symptoms right?” Chloe sympathised.

“thank god I have you to talk to. I think I’d go completely crazy without you. So, do you think I overstepped mentioning his smoking? I guess I forgot that it took you a year to get pregnant with Jamie. Did you and John ever fall out over it?”

Chloe laughed a little nervously.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry….”

“hey, no it’s OK – where shall I start. Errm yes we fell out – I got kind of obsessed you know with the optimum conditions and he felt like I only wanted sex for making a baby you know. It’s so hard to chill and not to wonder why it’s not worked but listen, it’ll probably just fall into place when you least expect it” Chloe looked away through the restaurant window, a frown crossing her face.

“You OK hun?” Emily asked, “you seem kind of distracted today”

“I guess I am, distracted I mean”

Emily looked questioningly at Chloe

“so what’s up”

“Hun, I have something to tell you and I know it’s not going to be easy and given what we’ve been discussing, it’s going to hurt …..”

Chloe’s eyes were filled with tears as she watched the realisation slowly dawn on Emily’s face.

“You’re pregnant aren’t you?”

Chloe nodded slowly reaching out her hand to Emily’s – Emily tried to pull away at first but Chloe grasped her fingers

“you know I didn’t do this to hurt you, we only just started trying….”

“you think that fact makes me feel better!?” Emily spat back at her, snatching her hand away now, anger flashing in her eyes

“no, no I just mean I thought about how it might be if I got pregnant first but after Jamie I was just sure you’d fall first and it wouldn’t be ….like this” she gulped down a sob “please don’t hate me Em!”

Emily took a shaky hold of her drink and gulped it down then just stared at the table for what seemed like several long minutes to Chloe. Emily battled with herself, wanting to run away and die in a ditch but knowing she needed Chloe too and she still had a tiny rational voice telling her this was just bad luck for her and not a deliberate act of spite by Chloe and John. She took a deep breath and looked Chloe in the eye at last.

“Congratulations” she smiled tightly. “I’m not gonna lie, this is , err painful for me but I know it shouldn’t be. Honestly, I’m happy for you, it will be great for Jamie to have a brother or sister”

“Thanks Em … I love you, you know?”

“I know” Em sniffed.

Their lunches arrived giving them the opportunity to just digest this new change in their lives. Eventually Emily spoke, sticking to the same theme.

“So” Emily began “do you have any top tips for how I’m gonna make it through this without going completely bat-shit crazy?”

“not sure I’m the best person to ask somehow, given the amount of times I took ovulation tests and my temperature when we were trying with Jamie.

Emily chuckled.

“I’ve been telling myself not to go there but now it’s getting very tempting. Especially as I am pretty sure we’re gonna miss some opportunities soon coz Keanu’s off on a 6 week shoot in January.

“well I can’t stop you going there and I know only too well that telling you to relax is just stupid. But maybe just try to have as much other stuff going on to think about, you know. I’m not saying that it will make conceiving more likely, but it might just stop you going bonkers! And I know this doesn’t really apply to you, but we ended up deciding to spend a bunch of our savings on a trip – do you remember when we went to Paris and stayed in the Georges V?

“yeah, yeah I do – why did you think that would help?!”

“I think we just thought screw it, we deserve something nice and maybe fate’s sense of irony would grant us a pregnancy the minute we’d run our savings down and couldn’t really afford a child!”

“And did it work?”

“yeah I guess so, I think we went on that trip in the June and we were pregnant by end July!”

“maybe I should get Keanu to donate all his money to charity then!”

“nahhh don’t do that - but hey a holiday might be a good thing. What else do you have going on?”

“I’ve got some re-writes on a couple of movies and Keanu’s TV thing is back on the table so I’ve got some deadlines to keep me busy”

Their lunch continued and they even went and did a little shopping in the upscale stores on Rodeo Drive. Emily was back home by 5 and Keanu arrived shortly after.

“Did you have fun sweetie” he asked “looks like you got in some retail therapy too, huh?” he said noting the bags on the floor.

“yeah thanks, I did” she said quietly

“you sure, you don’t look too happy ………… is Chloe OK?”

“Yup, Chloe is fine …… Chloe is pregnant!”

“oh!”

“yes, oh”

“I don’t know what to say”

“It’s OK, we didn’t fight or anything, in fact talking to her was useful - but I can’t deny at first I wanted to curl up and die!”

“Come ‘ere” He pulled her into a tight hug.

“It’ll be OK hun, we’ll get there ……. And if we don’t we have each other right?”

Emily nodded sadly

“you don’t have to look so thrilled at the idea of just me!” he huffed

“sorry, I know you’re right and I love you, you know I do, but I, I just really want this you know and I’m not ready to think about it not happening, not just yet OK?”

“OK, me neither”

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New Beginnings Baby Drabble

New Beginnings Baby Drabble No2

#keanu #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #romance #trying for a baby

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magnoliasinbloom · 5 years

Text

The Midwife - II

AO3 :: Previously

III

I could see it on his face. He’d thought I was dead.

Jamie’s eyes were wild with relief. My heart pounded with much the same feeling. I lowered my own gaze demurely and backed away from Dougal. Mrs. Fitz took me by the arm and I felt more than saw a commotion as Jamie pushed his way through the crowd to get closer to me. I spared him a single glance over my shoulder before I was seated at a trestle table. Food was piled high in front of me. I half-listened to Mrs. Fitz’s chatter as she served me a plateful before I heard his voice.

“Mistress Beauchamp.” Jamie’s voice trembled. The Scots lilt was like balm to my heart.

I swallowed hard and turned to him. “May I help you, sir?”

“I expect ye can. I havena been feeling at all well for a few months now. Is there perhaps… something ye can give me?”

Jamie’s eyes were shining, and I felt myself breathing easier just to have him near. I nodded, a lump in my throat. “Tomorrow, sir. I am told I will occupy the former Beaton’s surgery, wherever that may be.”

“Aye, I ken where they are.” He took my hand gently in his and I thrilled to his touch. “Until tomorrow then, mistress. Your servant, James Fraser.” He kissed my hand in a courtly manner and lost himself in the crowd again. I caught sight of two burly men, one tall and one short, who shadowed him closely. He was being watched, and my identity was better kept a secret for the moment.

A complication.

* * *

Mrs. Fitz and a couple of the girls who had been in the kitchens led me to Davie Beaton’s quarters. It was a sort of dispensary, similar to the apothecary stores at the Hôpital des Anges, but filthy. Mother Hildegarde would never have allowed such conditions. The housekeeper seemed to realize this as she apologized for the mess as she and the girls cleared away some crates and broken glass bottles. There was a bed in the corner by the fireplace; more of a cot, really. It was wiped down with a cloth and fresh blankets were laid on it. They made short work of the large wooden table, leaving at least one surface clean enough to begin tending to patients.

Mrs. Fitz promised to lend me the girls the next day so they could help me put things in order. A fire was lit in the grate before they left me alone. I stripped down to my shift, and unpacked my bag. I found a hiding place for my letter of introduction: inside a book belonging to the late Beaton. I tucked myself beneath the blankets, grateful for their warmth after sleeping out of doors for weeks. My mind whirred relentlessly with thoughts of Jamie, wondering how we would manage life at Leoch, if we could leave for Lallybroch soon, and how to face what was certain to be a battle against Dougal for our right to be together.

I fell briefly asleep thinking of his hands only to be startled awake by the sound of a crash and a muttered, “Ifrinn!” The fire had banked itself and I could barely see in the light of the embers’ glow. I gripped the blankets tight until I heard Jamie’s voice whisper, “Sassenach? Are ye awake?” I breathed in relief and rose from the cot, making my way over to him.

“I’m here.” I glimpsed Jamie leaning on the table, fully dressed, holding his hand gingerly. There was a small cut on the back of it, and I couldn’t help but shake my head in despair. Jamie, the battle-hardened warrior, accident-prone and clumsy in the dark.

“Claire.” He stepped away from the table and clasped me to his body. I gripped him tightly about the waist, my face burrowed in his chest, breathing in the scent of him, longed for and dreamt of. Jamie buried his fingers in my hair, unspooling the curls and pushing them back from my face. He held it lightly in his hands, reverently as though it might disappear in smoke. “Ye’re alive, mo nighean donn.”

I cupped his face, reading the urgent hope and desperate fear that was likely mirrored in my own. I felt warmth radiating from his body, his hands in my hair, and I buried my face in his shoulder, where I went quietly and thoroughly to pieces. I wept, and I was certain Jamie did as well. Once I was reacquainted with the safety of his embrace, I calmed down; Jamie procured a handkerchief, and gently blotted the tears off my face.

“I thought ye were dead.” His voice trembled. “Ye came to me in dreams, Sassenach, and I dinna ken what was worse—that I couldna touch ye, or knowing I never would again.”

“It wasn’t without a fight.” I quickly recounted my illness, watching his face blanch when I told him of all that had transpired between Malva and me. “She… she took my ring, Jamie. I’m sorry, I tried—”

“Dinna fash yourself.” Jamie reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out the silver circlet, placing it on my finger once more with a kiss. “This arrived from the convent, with a letter that said ye had—that ye were gone, Claire.”

“There was no supervision at the time; I’m sure it was easy for Malva to forge the letter and use Mother Hildegarde’s seal to make my death official.”

His blue eyes misted over briefly. “I want verra much to kiss ye… May I?”

I nodded, anticipating. He held me close again and set his mouth on mine; reassurance for both of us that we were truly here, together. He grabbed at my shift, bunching up the fabric before releasing it with a small cry.

“Jamie, what is it?”

“I hurt—my hand was injured. When I thought ye were dead. I… I punched a wall in my chamber.” He looked sheepish. “And when I stumbled in, like a clot-heided idiot, I tripped and shoved one of the boxes that are laying around. That’s the cut right there.”

“Let me see.” I prodded at his hand gently. There was still bruising, meaning the bones had not mended properly. Parts of his skin were still mottled, with barely healed scrapes and the fresh cut. I led him over to the cot, bidding him sit while I rummaged in my pack for a jar of salve. I massaged his hand gently, until I became aware of our proximity. I could feel the heat coming off him like a brazier. Jamie’s breath came harder and I looked up to find him gazing at me with a burning intensity.

“Claire, I must ask yer forgiveness.”

“Whatever for?” I still held his hand in mine, and I rubbed soothing circles on his skin.

“I failed ye,” he insisted, shaking his head. “At the first true test of protection, I left you alone and in danger. If I hadn’t left—”

“Jamie, I asked you to leave. For your own safety. If anything, I should also apologize to you. If we had just sailed as we had planned…”

“Ye had yer duties as a healer. I could not have asked ye to be anything but what ye are.” Jamie touched his forehead to mine. “Am I forgiven, lass?”

I tucked the red curls of his hair behind his ear, and kissed him softly. “There is nothing to forgive.”

Jamie brought up his hand to cup my face, his eyes asking the question that I had longed to answer all these months we had been apart. He laid me back on the cot with exquisite tenderness. I fisted my hands in the lapels of his waistcoat and brought him on top of me. I shivered at the feel of his arousal cradled against my hips. He divested himself of his clothing quickly; I tugged my shift over my head and soon there was nothing between us but skin.

Our hands roved everywhere with need. He trailed heated kisses along my neck, touching the most secret part of me with gentle fingers. I mewled, wanting him inside me. I urged him on with my hands on his lower back, spreading my legs and crossing them around his waist. I could feel the traces of the scars on his back. Jamie laughed softly as he teased me, his cock sliding in my folds over and over, creating delicious friction. Just when I thought I would burst with impatience, he slid inside, both of us gasping at the contact.

We moved together slowly at first, savoring the stolen moment. There was no guarantee of when we could be together again like this. We clung to each other desperately, striving to reach our mutual goal of possession. Jamie increased the pace, my nails digging into his back and his own uninjured hand hitching my leg higher. All the while his mouth was at my ear, alternating between Gaelic phrases, “I love ye”, and breathless panting.

I felt pleasure building and building, like standing on the edge of a cliff about to tumble into the ocean. I pulled at Jamie’s hair, crying out as I fell over the precipice. I had never known it could be thus between a man and a woman. Shortly after, he fell too, spilling himself inside me. His lips nipped at my earlobe, with a whispered, “Sassenach?”

“Yes, Jamie?” I tucked myself into his side, his fingertips stroking my back into drowsiness.

“Promise me something, and I’ll do the same.” He kissed my forehead.

“What is it?”

“Dinna go anywhere I canna follow.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander au #jamie and claire #the midwife 2.3

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isitgintimeyet · 5 years

Text

Letting Go

AO3

Hope you enjoy this chapter. Next post will be slightly later than usual - I’m away for a long weekend in France.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta and @happytoobserve for the encouragement

Chapter 11: Honesty

Honesty is such a lonely word Everyone is so untrue Honesty is hardly ever heard And mostly what I need from you

Billy Joel

The first thing Claire noticed as she and John entered the private hospital room was the sheer number of cards, fruit baskets and balloons covering practically every surface. The second was that a bunch of flowers was currently being held, rather sheepishly, by Jamie. He shuffled his feet a bit and muttered a greeting to John and Claire.

Anna appeared to be well on the mend. Although still wired up to various machines, with her arm in plaster and a large bandage covering part of her cheek, she looked more like a lady entertaining in her boudoir, rather than having been involved in a potentially fatal accident.

Her speech, however, presented a different picture. Her voice was weak, hesitant, stumbling over words.

“Hello,” she rasped, her voice quiet. “Look… at the flowers… Jamie has bought me… not allowed.”

Claire smiled. “I know, they’re glorious. Hydrangeas, aren’t they? But, you’re right, they’re not allowed in the room. Infection prevention.”

Jamie smiled and finally looked at Claire. “Aye, I was told hydrangeas. I dinna really ken, I’m no’ too good with the flowers… or when to give them… apparently.”

********

Nine years ago

“Why do you never buy me flowers, Jamie?”

“I dinna ken… it’s like flowers are fer when ye’re trying tae make an impression, when ye dinna ken where ye stand or it’s fer an occasion. But us, Sassenach, do we need flowers? Would that make a difference tae us… tae how ye feel about me?”

“I guess not.”

“But, Sassenach, If flowers are important tae ye, I’ll remember that, I’ll bring ye flowers.”

“No, Jamie, there’s no need, honestly. You’re right.

“Anyways, I dinna need flowers tae show ye how I feel about ye. I can tell ye… I can tell ye all the time. In fact I’ll never stop telling ye what ye mean tae me, Claire Beauchamp.”

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

“Mary’s jes’ gone tae get a cup of tea,” Jamie continued. “I believe she’s comin’ back down the road with ye. Mebbe she can take the flowers home.”

“Yes, that’s right.” John responded, while Claire pulled up a chair and sat next to Anna, lifting her arm and forensically examining the plaster. “Anna’s making such good progress, Mary feels confident to actually go home for a bit.”

“She needs… sleep... and rest.” Anna whispered.

“I agree. Mrs. Crook has been baking like a maniac ready for her arrival back home. And she’s not forgotten you either, Anna.” Claire dived into her bag and brought out several large Tupperware boxes. “Chocolate brownies and chocolate chip shortbread. I’m sure if you don’t want them, the nurses and doctors will be keen to take them off your hands. Especially the night shift, they’re always desperate for sweet treats to keep them going.”

“Ah, I’d better be heading meself. I jes’ dropped in on ma way tae visit with Murtagh and Jocasta. Look after yerself, Anna. Good tae see ye lookin’ so bright. Quite like yer old self. And sorry about the flowers. I’ll make sure tae give ye some when ye come home.” Jamie bent down and kissed Anna’s cheek.

Claire busied herself rearranging the items on the bedside table.

“Claire, John. Bye fer now. John, I’ll be in touch about goin’ fer that drink.”

**********

Claire let Mary sit in the front seat of John’s Mini on the way back to Glasgow. Rearranging her legs to fit somehow in the small space available, she closed her eyes and let the conversation drift over her.

“Anna is doing remarkably well,” John remarked.

“I know.” Mary sounded tired but elated. “Mummy and Daddy felt confident enough to go home for a couple of days. Doctors are all so pleased with her progress. We’ll all be back to see her moved into the rehab ward. Then that’s one step closer to her coming home.”

“It was nice of Jamie to come to see Anna,” Mary added, looking at the large bunch of flowers in her lap.

“He feels in some way responsible, you know, for the accident.” John kept his eyes on the road. “He thinks he should have gone down the stairs in front, made her hold onto him. He was upset when I spoke to him the next day… quite agitated.”

Claire tried to keep her breathing steady as she felt her stomach lurch at John’s statement. So, added to Jamie’s feelings of responsibility for the accident, there would also be his guilt at their night together, no doubt viewed by Jamie as a betrayal of Anna. Little wonder he sounded agitated to John.

Unbidden, the memories of that night crowded Claire’s mind… their bodies instinctively seeking comfort together, rekindling long remembered sensations and emotions...

“You have to move forward… whatever it is, you need to let go.” Claire remembered Frank’s parting words and realised he was right. She knew she had to move forward. She realised that would never happen here in Glasgow. Jamie would be there, maybe just around this corner, perhaps sitting in that coffee shop, always on the periphery of her mind. While there was a chance she could meet him, talk to him, reach out and touch him, she would never be able to let go. And if… when… she saw him in a relationship, she knew that would be more than she could bear.

Over the years, Claire had been approached by other hospitals, keen to appoint a surgeon of her calibre. She had a network of contacts forged through medical conferences and online professional discussions. There would be opportunities for her in other cities, perhaps in England or perhaps, ironically, it would be her turn to move abroad. She had to take action and make that break.

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

Claire lightly knocked on the door to Mrs. Fitz’s office. When she heard no answer, she opened the door and stepped inside. Mrs. Fitz was clearly in work, her coat was neatly hanging behind the door, her shopping bag lined up next to her desk. She knew she should have called first, rather than just dropping by unannounced, but she really wanted to talk to Mrs. Fitz and discuss the possibility of moving away.

Claire turned around and started to leave when she heard a noise from her Uncle’s office next door.

“Mrs. Fitz… Uncle… hello?”

She moved to the door connecting the two offices and paused, waiting for a response. The office was silent.

Claire pushed the door open and looked into Lamb’s office.

A young woman was standing next to her uncle’s desk, a small clay pot in her hands. She placed the pot on the pile of papers next to her and smiled at Claire.

“Hi, I’m Malva. Professor Beauchamp’s grad student.”

“Hello, Malva. I’m Professor Beauchamp’s niece, Claire.”

Malva smiled. “Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you. Your uncle is verra proud of you.”

Claire returned the smile politely and looked around, a little bit surprised that Malva was here in Lamb’s office on her own. “Is Mrs. Fitz here, or my uncle?”

“No, I think Mrs. Fitz has gone over to the Finance department and the prof is in the library… er... I’m...er... here tae find a chapter of ma dissertation. He’s been… er… proofreading it fer me, red pen, that kind of thing. I thought he’d left it on his desk, but… er... I canna seem to find it. Ah, well, never mind, I’ll have tae wait ‘til I see him later.”

Malva started to walk towards Claire, still in the doorway, encouraging Claire to turn and leave. Claire made to step back into Mrs. Fitz’s office, but hesitated. Something in Malva’s manner did not seem quite right… the reason for her being there was a bit flimsy… and she was a little too keen to shepherd Claire out of the way. Malva’s eyes flicked instinctively to the corner of the office, hidden from Claire’s view by the door.

Claire caught the glance and stepped fully into Lamb’s office, shutting the door behind her. As she looked around the room, Malva took advantage and slipped out through the same door. The door behind which someone had been standing, hiding. Someone who Claire recognised instantly… Frank.

“Claire,” he began warmly. “How nice to see you, and what a surprise you showing up now.”

“Why a surprise? He’s my uncle. I do like to visit him, you know. What are you doing here?”

“Well, I just came over from my office to see him too, but his grad student… Mar… Mel…”

“Malva.”

“Yes, right, good, she told me that he was not here. I was just about to go, when you arrived and… er… I got caught behind the door.”

“So you weren’t hiding, then?”

“Hiding? No… really… why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you didn’t want to see me, after how we left things.”

Was it Claire’s imagination, or did a small sigh of relief escape Frank’s lips? She moved over to the large, battered desk in the middle of the room and leant against it. Her fingers traced over the familiar artefacts sitting on the desk, accumulated over years of travel - the blue evil eye amulet, the copper coffee beaker, the intricately carved wooden box. She paused and looked at the box, where Lamb kept the keys to his filing cabinets and cupboards. It was empty.

Claire looked across at Frank, noticing, for the first time, the document wallet and notebook clutched to his side.

“Frank, what are you really doing here?”

“I borrowed some articles from your uncle… er… I was just returning them.” He lifted the document wallet slightly.

Claire held out her hand. “Well, I can give them back to him… you could have left them with Mrs. Fitz, or Malva. You didn’t have to come into his office.”

Frank hesitated. “That’s ok. I can come back when he’s around.”

“What’s the problem, Frank? Don’t you trust me to give them to him?”

An idea started to form in her head. “Uncle Lamb didn’t lend you anything, did he?”

Frank gave no reply.

“You were here uninvited, going through his stuff. Years and years of research material.”

“No, I…”

“Your book… you’ve never done any field work. You told me so yourself. Are you thinking you can use someone else’s hard work and dedication? Pass it off as your own? Plagiarise?”

“I would never… please...”

“And Malva agreed to help you. What for? Co-credit on the book?”

Claire’s stomach lurched unpleasantly as another thought crept into her mind. “Did you know who I was at that party? You said you recognised me. Is that why you went out with me?”

“Claire, please believe me… I did recognise you, but that’s not why I came to talk to you…” Frank held his hands out to Claire. “I wanted to, still want to, go out with you.”

“All that interest in my growing up with Lamb, places I’d visited with him… was that all for your book?” Claire kept her voice low, controlled. Her anger at being used was there, just below the surface but kept in check. “Tell me the truth, Frank. I want honesty.”

“No, Claire, I wanted to learn about you. You’re a fascinating woman. I thought we could have had something special. Still think that, too.” Frank took a step closer to Claire.

“So you weren’t going to use any of what I told you in your book?”

Frank hesitated for a second before responding. “No, it was just about you.”

“Why do I not believe you, Frank? You wanted to get to Lamb’s research through me, and when that didn’t happen you started working with Malva. I’m sure she was keen to be involved with a potential author. May be even television? Is that what you promised her?”

“I…”

“Spare me any excuses. I really can’t be bothered listening to you any more.”

Claire moved to the door and held her hand out. “Document wallet and notebook, please.”

With some reluctance, he deposited them in her hand. “The sad thing is, Frank, if you’d have gone directly to my uncle, I’m sure he would have listened, offered to help you. Instead you sneak about in an underhanded way. Don’t worry, I’ll let him know exactly what’s gone on, as well as Malva’s role in this.”

Claire’s stood and waited as Frank stepped out of the office. “Goodbye Frank”.

#outlander fanfic #outlander fan fiction #Letting Go #chapter 12 #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp

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franklyshipping · 5 years

Text

True Happiness Needs No Sound ~ A Jacksepticeye Ego Fanfic

Thiiiiis is a lovely prompt from the snazzy @petunia9402 who is always so lovely on the blog and their prompt is an AWESOME one! This is set with the interpretation that Jameson Jackson has no voice at all btw....LET'S DO THIS!

Jameson Jackson, I'm very sorry to say, was not smiling. Nor had he smiled all day. Jamie was the sort of guy who usually wasn't troubled or self-conscious about himself because he had so many loving people around him who loved and appreciated every single part of him...but lately....Jamie hadn't been feeling it. The Septics were a rowdy bunch, always cracking jokes to make each other laugh, always rough-housing, tickling, playing, all that awesome stuff....but none of that stuff had really seemed to extend to Jamie recently.

The only time Jamie seemed to hear jokes was when he happened to be in the room when they were being told....no-one actively tried to make him laugh with humour. No-one tried to wrestle with him, tickle him, play with him...and Jamie knew why. Jamie couldn't laugh, he couldn't make one single sound. Why waste jokes when you're not going to get a reaction? It was pointless. HE was pointless. That was how Jameson Jackson felt. He was upset, sour, and attempting to cope by gripping a blanket so hard that his knuckles turned white. He couldn't even scream to let his emotions out.

Thankfully....that was when our hero dropped in. Jamie was curled up on the couch in the living room, aimlessly looking at a wall in a dazed manner. That was how Chase Brody found him. Chase grinned as he spotted the dapper gentleman, and immediately sunk down next to him on the couch, rubbing shoulders with him in a true bro fashion.

'What's cookin' in Jameson land?'

Jamie....didn't react in the way Chase expected. Instead of a cheery smile, a playful shove, or an excitably signed sentence, all Jamie exhibited was a light shrug and brief sign.

'Nothing.'

Chase, obviously, was immediately concerned, especially since Jamie hadn't even turned to look at him. Chase sat up straighter and tentatively placed his hand on Jamie's back, leaning in a little to try and see his face to see if he could maybe analyse what was wrong with the sweet guy.

'Hey....buddy you know you can tell me anything....'

Chase spoke softly, making sure his reassuring smile stayed on his lips. Now, in Jamie's mind he would have ideally wanted to be strong. He liked to think he would have been able to tough this sort of thing out like the others do when they pretend that they're not upset....but he couldn't. Jamie just burst into sad, silent tears.

'Everything's just pointless. I'm pointless!'

Jamie's hands looked like they were almost spasming with how shaky his signing was, and Chase hurried to envelop the man in a hug because Chase knew that Jamie needed it if he was going to feel safe enough to reveal what was going on. Chase took a moment to stow away his shock for now as he stroked Jamie's hair, whispering to him gently.

'Hey, hey why would you think that huh? You're a septic, how could you ever think that you were pointless?'

Jamie was shaking his head as he sobbed and sobbed in silence. The only sound that was in the room was Jamie's frantic, jittery panting as he signed.

'How can I be one of you? How can I be a septic when everything about you all revolves around happiness and laughter? I can't do any of that Chase, I can't be like that with any of you! I can't laugh with you, so why should you all even bother with me?'

....Chase was nearly on the verge of tears. Chase's mind was racing with questions. Had someone put these ideas in Jamie's head? Had he and the others accidently excluded him from things without realising? How long had Jamie been feeling like this? Chase's blood ran cold as he wondered how many times Jamie might have been bawling his eyes out while they were just in the next room....oblivious. No. NO. Chase was not having it. Chase cupped one of Jamie's cheeks and shifted a little, so he could look at the shivering, upset man properly as he brought out the voice of the loving dad that he was.

'Now you listen here. Being able to laugh is NOT a requirement to be one of us, being able to laugh isn't a requirement for ANYTHING. We love you so damn much and you bring us happiness just by existing....'

Chase trailed off, making sure that Jamie was still close and embraced as he gave the younger man time to process what Chase was saying; Chase knew better than anyone that it took so much longer to process words in your brain when you feel like crap. Jamie though, much to Chase's relief, started to pant less and less, bit by bit....he was just starting to calm down from it all, just a little. Chase smiled warmly, and murmured with a smile.

'....besides, I know I don't need to hear a laugh from you to know when my humour is tickling you in all the right places!'

Chase took the opportunity to lightly pinch Jamie's cheeks with a fond smile, and to Chase's delight, Jamie blushed and bapped at him; he was even hiding a little smile as he signed.

'Your jokes are awful....'

Jamie looked up at Chase softly, and let him see his little smile, just so that Chase knew he was only in jest. Chase, of course, let out quite the indignant gasp at this apparent rudeness!

'Well....that's just because I save my best material for special occasions! I'll give you one of my best jokes to prove it!'

Chase replied matter-of-factly, before clearing his throat with the greatest amount of exaggeration that he could possibly muster.

'The best joke, in the entire world actually, iiiis....'

Jamie had one of his eyebrows raised a little, especially when Chase trailed off and paused for dramatic effect whilst waggling his eyebrows comically. Then, Chase smirked and did snazzy finger-guns as he delivered his punch-line.

'Anti's dress sense!'

Jamie was biting down hard on his bottom lip. Why? Because it was taking every single ounce of willpower Jamie had inside him not to break out into a grin and shake with laughter at how amazing that joke was, as well as at how utterly bold and brave it was! Luckily Jamie managed to cover his mouth and stop any mirth....but he couldn't stop that bright smile of his; he couldn't help it, Chase always made him smile.

'Ohhhh what's this? Was that, I daresay, a smiiiiile?'

Chase gasped as he cooed, giggling in victory at seeing Jamie trying to cover up his evident happier mood. Jamie shook his head in defiance at Chase....but Chase wasn't going to let that smile go. He inched especially close to Jamie, a grin in place as he growled goofily.

'You'd better show me that smile....or I'll make you!'

Chase made his hands into claws and playfully wiggled his fingers....but what he didn't expect was for Jamie's smile to fade and for his face to fall into a frown; Jamie's melancholy had come back, and Chase stuttered frantically, endeavouring to see what was wrong and how he could fix it.

'....d-did I say something wrong?'

Chase lowered his hands as nerves bubbled in him....but he let out a light sigh of relief when Jamie shook his head....but then he felt like he was being punched in the gut as he interpreted what Jamie signed next.

'....the only point of tickling is to make someone laugh. You're wasting it on me.'

....first off, Chase made a mental note to find out who the fuck provided the first spark that caused this mentality to develop inside Jamie. For now though, Chase took a breath. He was here for Jamie, and he was damn well going to show it!

'Well, I'm sorry but you'll have to say something better that THAT if you don't want the tickles! Oh, plus you're wrong.'

Chase's voice was so strong and resolute, that it took the melancholic Jamie off guard and made him blink up at Chase in surprise; he didn't know Chase had that much assertiveness in him! Now, with Jamie focusing on letting the words start to sink in, that meant he didn't move to stop Chase when he lightly straddled the pondering man.

'Tickling is about trust, bonding....'

Jamie blinked and looked up at Chase, his next words bringing him back to reality....and causing to develop a sweet, wobbly smile. Jamie knew that Chase was too much of a lazy, silly man to even contemplate lying to someone about something, so he knew that Chase meant every word he said. Plus, with Jamie having developed a smile once more and looking much less melancholy....only one thought was in Chase's mind. He had to keep Jamie like this for eternity. So, Chase grinned, growled, and readied his fingers.

'....and giving those you love an absolute wrecking when they need it most.'

Chase snickered and struck, and struck well. As soon as those scratching fingers of his found Jamie's tummy, Jamie was done for. All he could do was grin and wiggle from side to side as his chest shook with sweet mirth; plus he had the most precious dimples you have ever seen on a person. Jamie was also gazing up at Chase pleadingly as he signed at a rather fast pace....he was frantic....because Jamie knew that Chase knew ALL of his tickle spots.

'But I don't need it I don't I don't I don't!'

Chase giggled fondly down at Jamie, enjoying scratching the man's soft belly as those dimples just got deeper and deeper.

'What do you mean you don't need it? You already look so much happier now, especially with those pretty diiiiimples!'

Chase crooned, squishing the flesh of Jamie's belly playfully; this of course made a) Jamie sign even MORE frantically, and b) hurry to cover his face which was slowly becoming the most delightful dark pink colour.

'I don't have dimples, you have no proof!'

Ahh, that sweet, sweet defiant denial. At seeing Jamie try to hide himself and try to LIE of all things, this made Chase gasp in utter shock that Jamie would express such dishonest evasion! So of course, he promptly scribbled into Jamie's belly and put on a rather authoritative voice.

'Oh you'd better lower those hands right now mister, or things are gonna get muuuuch worse.....'

Jamie's eyes widened at the more intense tickling, and he arched his back and tossed his head as a result of it all; Chase's fingers were digging in SO much, it was evil! However....Jamie did not, even for a second, move his hands from his mouth; even though the tickling was so bad, Jamie managed the tiniest of glares in Chase's direction. Chase smirked....because oh how he'd hoped for that reaction.

'Fine, if that's how you wanna play....'

Chase purred, letting his hands drift away from Jamie's belly for a few moments, allowing the man to cutely huff and catch his breath. No seriously, every little huff of an inhale or an exhale that Jamie exhibited was so cute that it would have made a rocky cliff aww. Of course though, that bliss of recovery couldn't last forever; Jamie soon realised that when he felt Chase's fingers....splaying over the tops of his thighs.

'No not there Chase please, look I did what you wanted, look!'

Jamie revealed his flustered grin as he signed at fast as he could, gazing at Chase imploringly the whole time because dammit his thighs were so damn ticklish! Of course, Jamie reasoned that because now he'd done what Chase had asked, he'd get mercy, right? Yeah uh....Chase's malevolent smirk currently suggested otherwise as his fingertips kept splaying over Jamie's tense thigh muscles.

'Mmmm, yeah you did....but unfortunately, you took waaay too long to obey me....and now you must be punished!'

Chase then promptly set about pinching the soft flesh of Jamie's thighs, which as you can imagine, prompted quite the reaction from the sweet, sensitive man. Jamie literally started assaulting the couch as his mouth opened wide, and his whole torso was quivering with all his cute mirth!

'Awww look at these tickly squishy thiiiighs!'

Chase's teasing did not help. Yes, Jamie was well aware that he had rather squishy and sensitive thighs but he CERTAINLY didn't need to have it pointed out to him by a meanie tickler! Jamie was tugging at his legs as he gazed at Chase with flustered, watery eyes.

'Shut up shut up!'

Chase giggled fondly at Jamie, gosh he was probably one of the cutest people on the planet. Chase loved seeing how wild Jamie got physically; if he was Jackie's side-kick, all the hero would have to do is poke or squeeze him and get him to flail and knock out all the villains that way! Talking of squeezing, Chase was now rather enjoying doing that to Jamie's poor thighs.

'Or what? You'll keep smiling handsomely at me?'

Chase smugly retorted, snickering at Jamie's sweet red face and sweet bright smile-....and sweet snorts? Oh yeah, that's right people. Jamie had started snorting, a sound which didn't require the involvement of vocal chords; of course, this was something else that Chase decided he must gasp dramatically at, I mean, what kind of playful tickler would he be if he didn't?!

'Ohhh, you intend to snort at me! Well, frankly that just makes me want to tickle you even more!'

Chase grinned as he scribbled over Jamie's thighs, delighting in the torrent of snorts he got in return from his sweet little tickle victim; said victim ended up struggling harder and signing faster.

'No you can't make me snort, I sound dumb!'

Jamie pouted up at Chase amidst his reply, he didn't see how sounding like an undignified pig was anything close to a good thing! Chase of course was VERY quick to disagree with this notion.

'Actually, you sound and look very precious and happy!'

.....I personally love it when someone says something just that little bit more meaningful out of nowhere, and it just really catches you off guard but in the loveliest way. It certainly caught Jamie off guard. Jamie developed a wobbly, happy smile, sniffling and gasping as Chase let him catch his breath for a little bit. Chase then just took the opportunity to just....enjoy looking at Jamie, seeing all the colour in his cheeks, his persistent smile, his jittery chest; he was too adorable.

'You really think that?'

Chase blinked when he saw Jamie slowly sign to him with imploring eyes, and Chase didn't hesitate to nod and grin....whilst subtly shuffling his way down to Jamie's shins so he could ''casually'' rest on them.

'Oh I do....it's so cute how your chest quivers, and how your dimples make your cheeks look even more pinchable....and how your eyes widen when you know the tickling is about to start....'

Chase purred softly, and at first Jamie felt so warmed and giddy at the sweet compliments....but then the happy butterflies in his system started to get more and more active as Jamie listened more. He realised...that Chase was not done. As if on cue too, when he felt a single finger swipe up one of his bare feet, Jamie's eyes widened.

'Wait no wait not my feet you know I can't handle it! I might cry!'

Jamie signed frantically, clinging to the weak hope of Chase maybe having mercy....but ah, that wasn't going to happen. Chase of course awed at Jamie at how sweet and flustered he was....before smirking and setting about scratching up and down BOTH of Jamie's pale soles.

'Awwww don't worry, that's what tissues are for!'

Jamie's reaction was gorgeous. His mouth opened as wide as it could go as the sensitive man arched his back, thumping the couch as his mind raced with shock at how ruthless Chase was being! This was Jamie's equivalent of screaming, his feet were hands down his worst tickle spot, so Jamie did the only thing he could do. He begged.

'NO PLEASE NO NO PLEASE CHASE! MEANIE! YOU MEANIE!'

Jamie scrunched his feet as his pleading signs made Chase giggle fondly, but Chase only set about scratching deep into Jamie's wrinkles as he cooed.

'If you think scrunching up these pretty feet will save you then you are soooo wrong....'

The hardened scratching made Jamie let out a spontaneous snort, before his form just shivered and jumped with his silent hiccups of laughter. It was a rather a precious sight to behold, and Jamie's hands were practically a blur at this point too.

'I'M GOING TO GET YOU BACK FOR THIS!'

Poor Jamie, he was so overcome by the tickles that his brain somehow thought a threat was a good idea! Chase raised an amused eyebrow down at the red-faced thrashing man, and mercilessly scratched under Jamie's toes as he chuckled.

'Oh yeah? You and what ler mood, hm?'

Oh yeah, Chase went there. Poor Jamie was so embarrassed amidst his mirth as Chase brought up the implicit truth of the fact that Jamie could have easily sat up and grabbed Chase's hands at any time....but he was too happy. He was too happy at being tickled and cheered up to make it stop.

'PLEASE! NO MORE! CHASE, MY FEET CHASE!'

Under other circumstances, Jamie would have retorted against Chase's words, but with all the tickling he could only focus on trying to sign coherently. Jamie had little tears trickling from the corners of his eyes, and was weeping with silent laughter....as Chase merely snickered.

'Mmm, they are lovely and soft feet you have here....'

Chase's scratching fingertips never left the undersides of Jamie's poor toes, and by now the poor dapper man had tears really streaming down his face. Of course though, Chase wasn't going to torture him forever.

'MERCY! MERCY! MERCY!'

That was the word that Chase needed to see. He grinned and relented, sliding off Jamie's legs and crawling up to him so he could envelop Jamie in a warm hug; he wasn't completely cruel! Chase chuckled affectionately as he ran his fingers through Jamie's hair, smiling when he felt the panting man snuggle close. He produced a tissue from his back pocket and lightly dabbed at Jamie's cheeks and eyes, whilst murmuring in a soft voice.

'....s-sorry if I, heh, got a little intense on you kid....I just wanted you, well, needed, you to know that we love you so damn much. No matter what you can and can't do, that doesn't stop you being one of us. The best one of us to be honest.'

....honestly, those words alone could have sent Jamie weeping for a good ten years. He didn't though. Jamie gazed up at Chase with watery eyes and a wobbly smile....he felt so damn happy and loved and looked after.

'I love you dad.'

....aaand now Chase was also tearing up, damn you Jamie for making the whole thing even MORE heart-warming! Chase grinned and ruffled Jamie's hair, pulling him closer as he gave him the strongest, most loving hug that he could muster.

'Love you too kid.'

Jamie let out a soft, happy sniffle at Chase's reply....and then let out quite a few more silent giggles since Chase had decided to take it upon himself to mess up Jamie's hair every few seconds for the foreseeable future. Well, that's a good, loving dad for you.

WOOOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DIIIID WOOOOP LUV YOUS XX

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #jameson jackson #jamie #chase brody #chase #platonic #sfw #prompt #ego fic #ego fanfic #tickle fic #tickle fanfic #tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #luv these cuties

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