#he's curl up on my parents bed almost every night to make biscuits and watch tv

[agents-are-dicks]

one of my cats has been missing for 8 days now. We think he ran off and got lost right before the storm last week. This doesn't affect any of you but I'm really fucking sad about it.

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 20

cruel summer masterlist

AN: This was supposed to be ready hours ago. SORRY. Only five chapters to go. Have I mentioned how much I appreciate all of you who read, reblog and review this? It has seriously brightened up a shitty time in my life.

Rowan feels like he’s barely slept when Aelin’s alarm goes off. He grumbles and pulls her closer, so he can bury his face into her shoulder, away from the thick rays of sunshine pouring through her window. “No…” he groans.

“Yes,” Aelin laughs as she turns over to face him. Her finger traces over his lips, and he kisses it softly. Her eyes lock with his, and he can’t help the warmth that blooms in his chest at her staring.

“What?” he asks, kissing her finger again. Her eyes flit across his face, observing him closely.

“You’re pretty in the morning,” she says, and Rowan narrows his eyes at her.

“Pretty?” he asks, incredulous. She nods and giggles quietly as Rowan climbs on top of her, pinning her hands beside her head on the mattress. “I’ll show you pretty…” he growls. His lips dive onto her neck, and he can feel her laughter against his chest.

They both hear her door open and slam at the same time. They freeze, their heads turning in the direction of the noise, praying against all odds that it isn’t one of Aelin’s parents.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…”

Dorian stands with his back pressed against Aelin’s door, his hand covering his face again. Rowan sighs a breath of relief and rolls off the bed. He can’t believe how close that came to being a nightmare. They really need to be more careful. He grabs his work uniform, which is crumpled on the floor and pulls his pants on quickly.

“Dor?” Aelin asks from under her covers. “Why are you in my room?”

“I volunteered to wake you up,” he says, eyes still closed. “I had a feeling. Your entire family is downstairs. It’s Saturday, remember?”

“Shit,” Aelin mumbles as she rushes to her closet and throws on shorts and a tank top.

Rowan looks at the clock. Thirty minutes until works starts. And he has no idea how he’s going to escape this house with Aelin’s entire family downstairs. It’s not like he can climb out her window – he’d be spotted in a second.

Dorian finally cracks his eyes open and sees that everyone is fully dressed and relaxes slightly. He nods to Rowan, who nods back uncomfortably.

As they exchange hellos, Aelin heads straight into her bathroom and plugs in her curling iron. Rowan stands in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do. He shoves his hands into his pockets and watches as Aelin starts wrapping her hair around the hot metal rod. She examines her bruise in the mirror and dabs some makeup over it with her free hand.

“Dor?” Aelin calls from the bathroom. “Can you tell my family that I am curling my hair, but I will meet them at the park shortly?” She pokes her head out of the bathroom. “Just, get them out of the house quickly. Please,” she implores him with wide eyes, and Dorian salutes her and takes off.

By the time Aelin’s hair is curled, and her family has officially left the premises, Rowan has about five minutes to make it to work. He kisses Aelin and makes a mad dash for the park.

“See you there,” Aelin calls out after him as he takes off into a quick sprint. His cross-country skills are put to the test as his feet sink through the sand with every step. By the time he reaches the park entrance, he’s only one minute late. He’s impressed with himself.

Breathing hard, he slows to a brisk walk, making his way through the throngs of crowds lined up to get in.

Rowan pauses, his brain finally catching up to him, and looks around. The park is packed. Shockingly crowded.

The line of cars to enter the park is so long, it extends past the parking lot and onto the street, and at the front gate, a hefty crowd is gathered, waiting to get in.

“What the fuck?” Rowan mumbles to himself.

Inside the park, a very stressed out Lorcan mans the admissions booth with Fenrys. “Rowan!” he calls out. “You’re here! Come help us.”

Rowan apologizes for being late, but Lorcan just attributes it to the long line of cars and waves Rowan off. He’s just grateful for the help.

As Rowan starts handing out tickets and wristbands, he finally asks Lorcan what the hell is going on. Apparently, the park was featured on some big reality show called Hometown Hotspots earlier in the week, and the park is seeing the after effects. Lorcan has never been more stressed. He’s not exactly a people person, and these people are impatient, entitled, and anxious to get into the park. Rowan feels for him.

The overflow of people is never ending, and Rowan ends up staying at admissions until well into the afternoon. He barely has time to even think about missing Aelin, being kept so busy. Until, finally, he checks his phone during his lunch break and sees he has a slew of texts from her.

WHOA, what’s up with these crowds???

You were so busy this morning, you didn’t even see me come in! Luckily, Fenrys was far more cordial ;)

Rowan glares at Fenrys, who eats his lunch across the table from him. He can’t believe he didn’t’ even see Aelin enter the park.

Lys wants me to tell you that she knows this is not a curler burn. *facepalm*

Gavin heard your name and got excited, and now my family is insisting you join us for dinner.

You’re going to go down in history as being Gavin’s favorite person ever, just for buying him cotton candy that ONE TIME.

Rowan can’t help but smile at this phone screen, despite how tired he already is. He texts back quickly.

I’ll be there.

At the last second, he adds a red heart emoji and sends it. He’s never been an emoji person before, mostly using texting for utilitarian purposes only. But with Aelin, he can’t help himself. It’s silly, he knows. But the red heart sitting in his texts is his silent way of opening up more. Of silently insinuating the three words he’s tried to push to the back of his head and not let overtake his thoughts. He smiles when Aelin immediately returns his text with three kissing face emojis.

He must be smiling like a mad man, because Lorcan chuckles loudly as he takes a seat next to Rowan and asks, “How’s your girlfriend?”

Rowan’s smile disappears as Fenrys perks up from across the table. “You have a girlfriend?”

“Uhh… no… not really…” Rowan fumbles his words.

Lorcan senses his mistake and flashes Rowan and apologetic glance.

But Fenrys is undeterred. “I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me, Rowan,” Fenrys pouts, sounding all of his young age. “So… who is she? Townie? Someone who works here? Rich summer home crowd?”

“Someone way out of your league, kiddo,” Lorcan says, slapping his large hand onto Fenrys’s shoulder. His voice is gruff, but Rowan sees the hears the affection in his tone. He weirdly feels like he’s turned a corner with Lorcan. Maybe they could even be friends.

“It’s nothing,” Rowan assures Fenrys, who still looks on with hopeful eyes, begging for scraps of information. “It’s super low key, so we haven’t gone public, or whatever.”

“Then how come Lorcan knew?” His whining would be almost comical if Rowan didn’t want to exit the conversation so badly.

Luckily, Lorcan saves him. “Caught them in the break room the other night.” He pauses. “Which, no one should be doing, by the way.”

“What should we not be doing?” Elide asks, entering with a giant funnel cake in her hands. She’s followed by Connall and Vaughan and Gavriel, which means that Rowan’s lunch break is up. He groans. He’s not ready to deal with those crowds again. And if the group’s faces are any indication, nothing has slowed in the minutes he took off to eat. Elide looks exhausted.

“Making out in the break room,” Rowan laughs.

“Oh please,” Elide scoffs. “What do you think Lorcan and I do every night when you guys leave?” Elide wiggles her eyebrows at Lorcan, who turns bright red. His hands tug at his long hair, unsure what to do with himself. Rowan can tell he wants to be mad at Elide, but he thinks Lorcan is physically incapable of actually getting angry with her.

“Ellie,” he whines, but she just giggles as she stuffs a piece of funnel cake into her mouth. Her lips become coated in powdered sugar, and she purses her lips and motions to Lorcan.

“Come get some sugar.” She winks, and Lorcan looks conflicted as he looks at her lips and everyone else in the room. Ultimately, Elide’s lips win, and Lorcan leans down and gives her a quick kiss as everyone else in the room whoops. His entire body is flushed as he narrows his eyes at the bystanders.

“Not a word,” he warns.

Fenrys sighs loudly. “Man, did everyone get a girlfriend this summer but me?” he asks. Connall and Vaughan sit down next to him, and as the conversation turns to summer gossip, Rowan extracts himself and heads to the kiddie section of the park, where he’ll be on rotation all afternoon.

The rest of the day is even more miserable than the first half. Children are crying, upset with waiting for hours and missing their nap times; Rowan sympathizes – he’d love a nap, too. The crowds become angrier the longer they have to wait, and Rowan realizes the park is not equipped for this many people. They have no idea how to manage the crowds. And he almost witnesses a full on riot when one of the food stands runs out of ice cream bars. It’s a mess.

Somehow, he manages to keep his cool with the angry patrons, and he practically runs back to the Ashryvers’ as soon as the day is finished.

The entire family, plus Dorian, sits outside on their back patio as Emrys brings out platters of food, which smell absolutely delicious. Fleetfoot waits happily under the table, tail wagging, ready for scraps to fall. Rowan’s stomach rumbles as he approaches, seeing the spread of salads, biscuits and corn on the cobb.

“Wine?” Aelin offers him a large glass, and Rowan accepts it happily.

Gavin runs straight for his legs and wraps his tiny arms around them. He pats the top of the small boy’s head, unable to interact much more than that in his current state of exhaustion.

“Oh, sweetie, I can get you a beer, if you prefer,” Evalin says, but Rowan shakes his head and takes a large sip of the cold wine. “You look utterly exhausted.” She holds out a chair, and Rowan slinks into it without a second thought.

“The park was…” Rowan begins, but he stops himself short, not wanting to insult his bosses. Aelin sees it in his face.

“A nightmare?” Rhoe laughs. “We know.” He fills his own glass again. “We left early in the afternoon. We were not ready for those crowds.”

Evalin sighs. “The board is meeting about it tomorrow. We need to come up with some kind of solution other than hiring people to help with the parking lot. Luckily, this summer is almost over. But if this is how it is next summer… We need to get organized.”

Rowan thought the same thing throughout the day, but he’s unsure if he should bring up his suggestion. He knows his opinion likely holds no weight with this family, despite how outwardly friendly they are to him.

“Have you ever been to Disneyland?” Rowan asks, deciding to speak up after all.

“The competition?” Evalin raises an eyebrow, and Rowan becomes slightly self-conscious. He takes another sip of his wine. But Evalin cracks a smile, clearly teasing him, and Rowan relaxes. “I’m kidding. Yes, we’ve been there. But not since Aelin was nearly a baby.” Evalin smiles wider, staring at her daughter. “All Aelin wanted to do was to meet Mickey. It’s all she talked about the entire trip. We waited for over two hours to meet him, and when we got to the front, she screamed bloody murder. Just cried and cried…”

Aedion laughs loudly. “Oh my god, I remember that. She was terrified of him.”

Aelin frowns. “Okay, when you’re a toddler and you love Mickey, you expect him to be the size of a mouse, not a GIANT.” She shudders. “I still don’t like the characters.”

Rowan laughs and rubs her arm reflexively. He only realizes what he’s done when Dorian catches his eye. He pulls his hand away quickly, and prays no one noticed. Aelin seems unfazed as she sips more of her wine.

“A-anyway,” Rowan continues, “I know Disney is very different from Playland, but… the one thing they’re great at is crowd control.”

Rhoe and Evalin nod in agreement, so Rowan continues.

“Besides hiring people to direct car traffic and foot traffic, which, is definitely an important part of it – I think they really got a handle on things when they created their app,” he explains. “It’s an interactive map of the park where you can check ride wait times, see the daily schedule, preorder food, make reservations…” Rowan looks around the table and notices all eyes are on him, listening with rapt attention. “Playland isn’t big enough to need all of that, but it couldn’t hurt to have some of it. Everyone loves an app.”

“That’s not a terrible idea.” Evalin looks to Rhoe.

Lysandra turns toward Rowan and narrows her eyes. “Rowan, weren’t you telling us you used to work as a programmer for a start up?” she asks, and Rowan nods uncomfortably. He doesn’t like this many eyes on him. Especially when he’s talking about himself.

“You did?” Rhoe asks.

“Yeah. Not for very long,” Rowan admits. “The start up went under pretty quickly. Bad investors.” He pauses, then continues. “But I did computer engineering for the Army before then. I could make you a mock up, if you wanted?”

“That is very sweet to offer,” Evalin says, her voice sounding too saccharine to Rowan’s ears. “But I don’t think we’re anywhere near that step yet.”

Rowan smiles, but he can’t help but feel like he’s been blown off. He should have known they only see him as park staff. He does appreciate Lysandra taking him seriously, though.

The conversation dies down as Emrys brings out a large plate of brightly colored lobsters. Rowan can count the amount of times he’s had lobster on one hand. It’s a delicious luxury, one that Rowan absolutely loves, but is completely inexperienced with. He watches Aelin pull the claws with a slight twist away from the body and crack the shell, pulling the meat out. He mimics her actions, but somehow ends up crushing the shell into multiple pieces with his clumsy fingers.

As Aelin dips her piece into butter and drops it into her mouth, she sees Rowan’s struggle and leans over to help.

“Here,” she whispers as she takes her knife and cracks open the knuckles for him. He feels like a child. In fact, he notices Lysandra doing the same thing for Gavin and Evie.

“I can do it,” he protests, but Aelin has already finished cracking it for him. He sighs as she moves to twist off the tail, hoping his cheeks aren’t red with the embarrassment he feels.

His embarrassment fades quickly, though, when he sees Evalin reaching over to do the same thing to Rhoe’s lobster. Rowan looks at Aelin, who doesn’t seem to realize she’s completely mirroring her parents’ behavior and smiles behind the rim of his wine glass, which has been magically refilled.

Dinner is just as delicious as Rowan hoped it’d be, and by the end of the night he’s feeling sated and sleepy and buzzed on wine. Evalin tells him he should spend the night, since he’s not safe to drive yet, but Rowan can’t actually justify wearing his gross uniform again tomorrow. And as loathe as he is to spend a night away from Aelin, he knows he needs to go home.

“I can stay for another hour or so and sober up and then head home,” Rowan says, but his large yawn gives away his current state of fatigue.

“We can give you a ride if you want?” Lysandra offers, and Aedion readily agrees, but Rowan isn’t sure how he’d get to work the next morning without his truck.

“Fireheart, are you sober?” Rhoe asks, and Aelin nods. Rowan did notice she stopped drinking after her first glass of wine. He should have, too, but she just kept refilling it. It barely takes Rowan a second to realize that Aelin was trying to get him drunk, trying to get him to stay over. He shakes his head, sorry for her failed efforts.

“Why don’t you drive Rowan home, and then you can take an Uber back home?”

Aelin agrees, and says she’ll be quiet coming back in, in case her parents are asleep. After a round of goodbyes, Aelin and Rowan walk back to his truck where it’s still in the far corner of the Playland parking lot.

He tosses her the keys and watches as she moves her hand over the gears. As they drive, Rowan realizes he’s never seen Aelin behind the wheel before, and there’s something incredibly sexy about watching her maneuver his giant truck. By the time they reach Rowan’s street, Rowan can’t wait any longer. As soon as Aelin parks, he pulls her over to his lap and kisses her.

She squeals as he plants sloppy kisses on her face. Their kisses become more heated as it continues, so much that the windows start to steam up. His hands roam across her back and slide up her tank top, relishing in her bare skin. He just wants her all the time. Always.

Aelin pulls away and smiles. “I thought you were tired.”

“I am,” Rowan admits through another yawn. “That’s why if you come up, you’re going to have to do all the work.”

Aelin snorts, making Rowan laugh. It’s the cutest thing in the world. When she snorts. No other girl could make snorting cute, but Aelin somehow manages to.

“This is what you get for getting me drunk,” he says, letting her know he was well aware of her plan.

Aelin snickers as she opens the door and slides off his lap. She pulls on his arms, and Rowan stumbles out of the cab. And when they get upstairs, Aelin shows Rowan she’s more than happy to do all the work, and then some.

Rowan’s drunk heart feels like it’s going to explode as she moves on top of him, and he has to physically stop himself from saying the three words he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about all day. I love you, he thinks to himself. I never want you to leave. I want to be with you forever.

His resistance snaps. He’s too tired, too ready to put his entire heart into this thing. The lid he’s tried so carefully to keep on his feelings, explodes. The dam bursts, crumbling and cracking under the weight of his emotions, and he lets them tumble out, spilling everywhere, coating his skin where she touches him. He is lost to her, and he’s ready to burn.

~*~*~*~*~

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[blu-joons]

BTS Reaction: Spending Christmas Together

Jin:

🎄 The 1st of December, the decorations come out, covering the house in bright lights and statues     

🎄 As with every year, the two of you would have a new pair of Christmas pyjamas, this year you both wore a blue pair with penguins all over them 

🎄 He loves to make Christmas cookies together a few nights before Christmas, his favourite has to be his cinnamon biscuits        

🎄 Jin is always the first one up on Christmas morning, shaking you awake to open presents together   

🎄 If all else fails, kisses are his best way to wake you from your sweet slumber, “merry Christmas jagi.”    

🎄 Every year he spoils you with presents, every year he always buys you one of his aftershaves to keep hold of when he’s on tour        

🎄 The dinner is spent at his restaurant with his family, you’re all dressed beautifully with massive smiles on your faces          

🎄 His parents buy you the best presents, ear defenders, “you’ll thank us for them at some point in the year.”

🎄” Excuse me, I’m hilarious, Y/N loves my jokes, don’t you love?”   

🎄 He loves to round up all the jokes from the crackers, giggling to himself before he can even deliver the punchline   

🎄 The evening is spent just the two of you, cuddled up by the fire watching your favourite Christmas movies      

🎄 He makes the best hot chocolate, and with the spare biscuits left over to dunk, it’s the perfect winter warmer

🎄 With lots of kisses and cuddles, it’s the perfect ending to the perfect day  

🎄 ”It’s just been the most perfect time with you, I hope you’ve had as good a Christmas as I have, because mine’s been amazing.”

Yoongi:

🎄 You’d be woken with mistletoe, and a gummy smile, the most amazing view to begin a day of festive cheer      

🎄 He’s a bit of a Scrooge when it comes to Christmas, but being able to spend time with his family means a lot to him    

🎄” At least try and pretend to enjoy today,” you’d tease, peppering several kisses all over his face      

🎄 He’d try and pretend not to be bothered, but secretly he was a big kid, especially when it came to the presents you bought him    

🎄 The two of you wore matching oversized jumpers, just so everyone knew you were together      

🎄 His mum cooked the best dinner, it was the highlight of your day, going to his parent’s and being able to see them      

🎄 A hand of his would rest over your thigh under the table, admiring the beautiful bangle that you’d bought him    

🎄” I really like the bracelet, thank you so much for it jagi, it’s perfect.”    

🎄 When you headed home, the two of you would lay under a blanket together, looking out of the window at the young families  

🎄 I can’t wait for Christmas with our kids one day,” he’d whisper sweetly into your ear      

🎄 It took you by complete surprise, but as the two of you indulged in all the chocolate you’d been bought, the thought bought a smile to your face    

🎄 He hated to admit it, but he loved Christmas, and being able to spend quality time with you was what was most important to him      

🎄 He’d bid you goodnight with a soft kiss, cuddling you closely to him to try and warm you up      

🎄 ”I really enjoyed today, maybe there is a bit of festive cheer in this cold heart after all.”    

Hoseok:  

🎄 His squeals would wake you on Christmas morning, peering over the bed to see your stockings filled with little gifts that you’d filled in the middle of the night  

🎄” Santa’s been! Y/N wake up so I can open all my presents!”      

🎄 His family would run a worst jumper competition which the two of you would always get involved in, wearing one fit for two bodies so he could stay close to you    

🎄 Affection is huge on Christmas; they always say it’s a time to show your loved ones you love them, and he does that in bucket loads   

🎄 You’d be firmly placed in his lap as you went around his family opening presents, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around your waist      

🎄 He’d take you away in the middle afternoon to the park, getting away from the hustle so that he could dedicate some of his time to you      

🎄” You’re still the best present I’ve ever had, every year I’m just thankful to have you in my life.”      

🎄 Whenever music was on, he’d be dancing, pulling you up, twirling you around, swaying along with a wide smile on his face  

🎄 His favourite present of the year was a new piece of jewellery that he could wear on tour and during shows  

🎄 The night was spent back at your house, cuddled up by the fire, blankets were over you, soft music played in the background      

🎄 His lips peppered all over you, thankful to have you in his life, showering you with the affection that you rightly deserved    

🎄 You’d cook a second dinner together at night, decorating the table with candles and crackers, wearing paper hats under Hobi’s orders  

🎄 Lots of selfies would be taken to remember the day by, scrapbooking them like you did with all your memories      

🎄” I wish today would never end, but I’m really excited to do it all again next year    

Namjoon:  

🎄 The two of you decide to runaway for Christmas to a cabin in the middle of nowhere, no phones, no people, just the love the two of you share      

🎄 It’s perfect, you get up late, cuddling in bed, with no parents shaking you to get up so you can open presents    

🎄 In the afternoon you take a long walk through the snow, even finding time to have a snowball fight, which you definitely won     

🎄” This is the Christmas of dreams; I feel like I’m in a movie!”      

🎄 He’d even arranged for the two of you to go sledging as a surprise, knowing that it was something you’d always wanted to do    

🎄 It was freezing, the two of you were wrapped up tight, giving Namjoon the perfect excuse to constantly cuddle you    

🎄 He’d stay well away from the kitchen, leaving you to prepare dinner, you could barely trust him to make the two of you hot chocolate    

🎄 The evening would be spent competitively playing board games, with the radio on in the background to sing along to    

🎄 ”I’ve never heard this rendition of Jingle Bells; you know how to make a song unique Joon.”  

🎄 The two of you would be in fits of giggles all day long reminiscing about all the good times you’d shared together  

🎄 To end the day, the two of you would settle on a movie, but neither of you would pay attention, lost in each other instead    

🎄 His hands would be through your hair, your hands would rest over his abs, staring out of the window at the falling snow    

🎄 In the end, the two of you would fall asleep downstairs on the sofa, far too tired to carry yourselves up to bed

🎄” What do you say to never leaving this place? Christmas here really is the most wonderful time of the year.”

Jimin:

🎄 Breakfast in bed (perfectly round omelette, hot chocolate with mini marshmallows and a fruit salad)

🎄 Lots of morning cuddles and kisses

🎄 Opening presents after another hour of staying in bed

🎄 One particular gift from Jimin is a beautiful pendant necklace with both your initials engraved on it

🎄 Go out for shopping at the mall afterwards and meeting the santa and taking tons of pictures together

🎄 Going to an Italian restaurant for lunch while it snows outside

🎄 Later at home changing into a formal party wear for a Christmas dinner with your families

🎄 More kisses to keep yourselves warm

🎄 Meeting cousins and relatives and opening more presents

🎄 Massive Christmas dinner with tons of wine and laughter

🎄 Taking a stroll around the park afterwards while it snows and walking arm in arm to keep yourselves warm

🎄 “I love you Y/N, thank you for making this Christmas extra special for me.”

Taehyung:

🎄 Waking you up with lots of kisses and tickles and warm hugs

🎄 Cuddling and falling back to sleep in each other’s arms

🎄 Opening presents downstairs while drinking hot chocolate and being wrapped in a large blanket together

🎄 One particular gift from him is a charm bracelet with both of your initials engraved on it

🎄 Going to your families’ house and spending time with them

🎄 Having a huge Christmas brunch with your relatives and laughing and drinking tons of wine

🎄 Taking you out to a ‘surprise place’ and surprising you by taking you to a waterpark

🎄 Spending the whole afternoon in the jacuzzi and warm Greek baths, being wrapped in each other’s arms in the warm water while it snows outside

🎄 Going home in the evening and changing into a fancy dress to go out for dinner at a lavish French restaurant

🎄 Seeing Taehyung talk in French to the waiter (cause let’s admit it that SHIT IS HOT)

🎄 Eating lots of chocolate while walking back home arm in arm and laughing and pissing other people off around you

🎄 At home changing into comfy, warm clothes and curling up together on the couch to watch Christmas movies and drinking more hot chocolate

🎄” Merry Christmas Y/N. I love you so much, no matter how much hot chocolate foam you get around your mouth.”

Jungkook:

🎄 It’s a Christmas getaway in the mountains

🎄 Waking you up by pulling a childish prank on you and then laughing at your pissed face until he rolls on the floor with tears running down his face

🎄 Apologising and taking you downstairs where you open your presents and answer phone calls from relatives

🎄 Sitting on his lap on the couch with jazz music running in the background, while you’re wrapped up in one big duvet because the heating in the cabin you rented won’t work anymore

🎄 Watching the snow fall from the sky through the large wall window of the cabin

🎄 Lots and lots of cuddling and warm kisses

🎄 Changing into thick overlayers to go skiing for the morning before having breakfast at a nearby cosy café

🎄 Going for a walk around the mountain city you’re in and buying each other cute gifts

🎄 Taking pictures with the santa around the prettily decorated small village

🎄 Finding yourselves a quiet fast food restaurant to have a lunch and laughing and tossing fries at each other and almost getting kicked out when the whole packet of ketchup falls on the floor

🎄 Laughing and stumbling out of the restaurant and heading back to your cabin to get changed into more comfy wear and going for a drive through the mountains while it snows and Christmas songs play on your phone

🎄 Coming back home late at night and being told by him to go to the room and wait

🎄 For an hour at least and then being called back downstairs to see a beautiful dinner set up

🎄 Eating happily and watching Christmas classics, being wrapped up in two duvets because the heating still won’t work

🎄 “Merry Christmas Y/N. Maybe I should thank the owner of this cabin for purposefully keeping the heating off just so I can hold you even closer to me.”

---

Masterlist

[softlass27]

So... I had a couple of comments on my Robron foster parenting fic from last week, asking for more of this universe. I don’t know if I’ll ever properly write it as a full story, but what I do have are some little character profiles for each of the kids mentioned, as well as their ages when the Home Farm move takes place :)

Seb (11)

So Aaron and Robert had many (so many) discussions about – and with – Seb before they started fostering. They were initially very worried about the risk of Seb feeling neglected or sidelined by them bringing more children – some of whom may require extra care and attention – into the home. Robert was especially concerned about this, considering his own bad experiences when his parents took in Andy.

But Seb, being the good (fantastic) kid that he is, takes it all in his stride. For the most part, he loves having a big family, even if its not the most conventional. He was already pretty mature for his age, so he understands why sometimes the other kids might need some extra support with things. Before he came to live in Emmerdale permanently, his home life with Ross and Rebecca wasn’t exactly stable (thank god his dads got him out of there – he has a feeling that’s what gave them the fostering idea in the first place), so he knows a little of what it’s like to come from a difficult environment.

As much as he’s cool with his living situation, he does occasionally ask for a bit of one-on-one time with his dads, which they will go above and beyond to give him no matter what’s going on with the family.

Rather enjoys being the eldest – and therefore the leader – of the bunch. Aaron says he gets that from Robert.

Very witty for his age, and never without a good comeback. Robert says he gets that from Aaron.

Really likes cooking with Robert, and has been ever since he was just a wee boy.

Once showed his parents a 10-slide powerpoint presentation on why he and Eddie should get a super-cool race car bunkbed from Ikea.

Eddie (10)

Eddie is, well… loud. A chaotic boy. But a very sweet one.

He has ADHD, so he struggles a little at school and gets into trouble every now and then (mainly for talking), but for the most part his teachers can’t help taking a liking to him. 

Eddie loves attention, but he’s harmless in the way he seeks it. Telling jokes, presenting pictures he’s drawn (he loves comic books and often likes to create his own), showing off a new trick on his bike or skateboard. It’s rare for his foster family to go longer than a day without someone hearing him shout, “Hey, watch this!” Aaron and Robert often have to gently remind him to use his inside voice, and not to railroad the others when they’re trying to say something or pick an activity.

More than anything, Eddie just wants to be noticed. He never got much of that with his mum, who fails to turn up for their supervised visits more often than not. It’s agonising for Aaron and Robert to watch him be let down by her over and over again, trying so hard to cover up his hurt by shrugging and saying it doesn’t matter, then acting like there’s nothing wrong by throwing himself into playing video games with Seb as soon as they get home. But one of them will normally find him curled up crying a few hours later, and it takes lots of cuddles, ice cream and a super hero movie to make him feel better.

Eddie’s only six months younger than Seb, which Robert was initially worried about (again, his memories of Andy coming into play there), but the two of them are thick as thieves. They’re kind of chalk and cheese personality-wise, but they actually balance each other out pretty well.

Will do literally any dare he’s given. This has led to more than one trip to A&E and more than one grey hair for Robert.

Theme parks are his favourite places in the world.

Would live on pizza if he could.

Clumsy as hell. Never put anything breakable in Eddie’s reach.

Lottie (7)

Lottie is by far the shyest, quietest of the kids. She didn’t bring any toys or games with her, but she did bring a small backpack of books that she clung onto like a lifeline. This gave Robert (as we all know, an avid reader) something to bond over with her, and he soon discovered that a way to get Lottie talking was to ask her which books she likes.

The answer, as it happens, is anything fantasy-based. The Narnia series, The Hobbit, Peter Pan, most fairy tales… anything with some magic and maybe a princess and she’s sold. They have a feeling her books have been a bit of an escape from reality for her in the past, so they make sure her bedroom has a nice little bookcase so she can keep them close.

Her favourite thing after reading is playing in the garden or around the village. Sometimes with the others but again, she’s quite happy in her own little world. Before coming to live in Emmerdale, she’d been brought up in a cramped flat in a city centre, surrounded by traffic and concrete. So living in somewhere like the Yorkshire Dales (and all the space that comes with it) is a total novelty to her. She takes to it like a duck in water though, loves the green fields and the streams and the animals. She’ll spend hours running around in the dirt (usually spreading it all over the house when she gets home, too) and becomes a proper country girl. Robert gets her the complete Beatrix Potter collection, combining her two loves.

Because she’s so content with her nose in a book, Aaron and Robert do have to prompt her to join in with the others sometimes. But once she’s been given a nudge, she’ll usually put down whatever she’s reading and interact with her foster family. She does like having fun with the others, she just likes to have her space, too.

Aaron and Robert have lost her in Waterstones more than once.

The biggest cuddler, and the most likely to crawl into Aaron and Robert’s bed on a weekend morning.

A huge fan of beans on toast, and therefore prefers Aaron’s cooking to Robert’s.

Cannot do maths. Will never be able to get the hang of maths. Thinks maths is the stupidest thing ever invented.

Has just one or two friends at school and likes it that way.

Takes it upon herself to be the one to read Tasha’s bedtime story most nights.

Mike (6)

Mike was initially the most… difficult in terms of behaviour. He was too small to do much damage, but his first few weeks with them involved a fair bit of biting and scratching, and he got very easily wound up. Lots of tears and mood swings.

Aaron was so good with him. Robert was too, but from the beginning Aaron had a real knack for calming Mike down when he was distressed. It took several months to really get him settled (he tried to run away more than once – not that he got very far in their tiny village), but with a lot of patience and the right support, they figured it out in the end.

Now Mike is much calmer, and much happier. He still has his moments, but he never lashes out like violently like he used to. He gets some additional help from the school, and Aaron and Robert both have a lot of meetings with his teachers to check in on everything.

As mentioned in the original fic, he’s really not great with the dark. But they’ve managed to work their way from him needing the big light on at night, to his bedside lamp, down to a single nightlight, so he’s getting there.

Absolutely idolises Eddie, and tries to copy everything he does. Aaron and Robert are both praying this hero worship will transition from Eddie to Seb, just so they can have a slightly easier life.

Also adores their ginger tabby cat, Pumpkin (named by Seb when they got her one October). All the kids love her, but she and Mike have a Special Connection, and when he gets home from school, he will not rest until he’s tracked Pumpkin down, snuggled up with with her and told her all about his day. He finds her purrs very calming.

Loves a good LEGO model. Him and Robert will spend hours on them.

Karate-obsessed. He’s been into it every since his first lesson, but has to be told more than once that he is not to try out any moves on his foster siblings.

Will inevitably lose most things. Toys, gloves, crayons, homework, shoes (one time while he was wearing them – Aaron and Robert still can’t work that one out)… he simply cannot keep track of where anything is.

Hates reading and never picks up a book unless he has to for English homework. Lottie is scandalised by this. Scandalised. 

Natasha (Tasha) (4)

The baby of the group, and the youngest Aaron and Robert have ever fostered, which they were initially a little hesitant about. When they first brought her home just after she’d turned 3, she had very limited speech for a child her age. Even her crying was near-silent.

But with time, effort, and some speech therapy, she comes along leaps and bounds. Once she starts picking words up from her foster parents (as well as the nonstop chatter from the other kids), she doesn’t stop, it’s amazing how fast she gets the hang of it. Now it’s a miracle if they can get her to stop talking.

A very big fan of Postman Pat.

Will do almost anything for a chocolate biscuit.

Steals Aaron’s hoodies and uses them as blankets.

Has the biggest eyes anyone has ever seen, and her foster parents are dreading the day she works out that this helps her get away with stuff.

Can usually be seen wearing fairy wings.

Likes to sit on the floor and watch the washing machine when it’s on.

[awkward-radar-tech]

Kylo Ren, The Rising Star: Ch. 2

Summary: One day has elapsed in the week of your sort-of boss, Kylo Ren, staying in your run-down apartment. After another night terror wakes him in the middle of the night, you each learn something new about the other.

A/N: IT IS HERE!!! Finally. Sorry it took so long, life is a bitch... This is really fluffy. Mostly. And I have ideas for another part, if anybody wants one. Well, many parts tbh... Word count- 2957

Warning: Kylo/Ben’s night terror is about you getting (probably fatally) injured at your wedding. If you don’t want to read his non-graphic description of it, please skip the section between these emojis:❗❗❗ 

Chapter 1

💕💕💕

Wednesday had come and gone without any issue. It was mainly just Ben sleeping, waking up for food or the restroom, then shuffling back to bed. He didn't have another night terror until the early hours of Thursday morning. You did the same thing as before and went to wake him up.

He wrapped you in his arms and didn't let go, "That one… that one was bad. Really bad."

He had told you in his rare waking moments that the terrors were common, and that they usually had something to do with him or his family getting hurt. By this point he knew they weren't real, but they still bothered him. 

You rubbed his arm, "Ben. I'm here now. Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head, "No. Not right now. Still too raw. But stay here, please."

You hummed, "I will. Do you want me to pet your hair again?"

This time he nodded and moved to lay his head on your lap, "Please. Thank you, (y/n)."

You ran your fingers through his hair and untangled any knots you hit. You hummed some of your favorite songs to him and absentmindedly braided parts of his hair. You had thought he had fallen asleep again until he turned so he could look up at you.

He gave you a shy smile, "Can I talk about it now?"

You gave him a kind and inviting smile back, smoothing loose strands off of his face, "Of course, Ben."

❗❗❗

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before starting, "This one… this one was about you. And you got really badly injured."

You nodded and stroked his hair.

He continued, tears welling in his eyes, "Some… somebody attacked you while you were walking down the aisle," the dam broke and he started to cry, "I don't know how they got there. It was such a small wedding and we had security. You were hurt so bad. But you woke me before the ambulance arrived, before we found out if you were okay. But based off of previous experience you wouldn't have been."

❗❗❗

He reached up and wiped his tears just as you were, so you just rubbed his cheek, "Kylo. Ben. It wasn't real. We aren't getting married. We aren't even dating."

"But what if we do? What if it is real?"

You hummed, "Ben. Benny. Then we'll make sure to have so much security. People will have to be on the list, have a ticket scanned, bags checked and metal detectors for everyone, whatever. But for now it is nothing to worry about. Just deep breaths to help calm you down"

He listened to you and took in a few stuttering breaths until he could take a smooth one, "What time is it?"

You turned to the clock on your nightstand, "3:07... AM obviously."

He groaned, "Alright. Well, I've calmed down now, so go back to sleep. You deserve it. Even if I can't go back to sleep because that one was so bad."

You looked down at him, "If you're staying up, I'll stay up. We can just talk about whatever."

He nodded, and sat up, moving to the center of the bed and folding his legs, "Can I vent?"

You nodded, "Of course."

He sighed, "I feel lost. Just so lost. I don't know what to do with my life outside of work anymore. I mean, I can't do the things I used to do, not without being hounded. I miss my old life, being Ben. But at the same time I'm so grateful for my success, I'm not dependent on my parents any longer."

You nodded along, "I can't really imagine. Like I see a bit of it, obviously. But I don't go through it. But you've been Ben since walking out of my car. And until the end of the week." You paused for a moment, "Anytime you need to be Ben, just let me know. I'll let you come over. I'll give you food."

Ben smiled at you, "Thank you. I appreciate it," he looked down sheepishly, "can I get some food now? Just some leftovers, is all."

You got up and offered him your hand, "Sure. Come on. Let's have ourselves a late night snack. There are plenty of leftovers."

He got up and took your hand, "Thank you. I really need to do something nice for you for all of this."

You stopped in your tracks and turned to him, "No. I'm fine. You don't need to do a thing."

He shook his head, "Nope. You are doing so much more than you signed up for. You applied to be an assistant on a movie set, not my personal assistant, flying all over the world with me for promotion things. And now you're housing and feeding me? Just tell me something you want, that you can't or won't get for yourself. Anything at all. I'm sure you want some nice cast iron or something like that to cook on."

You looked away, "Maybe… I'd love a grill pan, flat top combo that covers two burners. And different cast iron pots and pans. A Dutch oven."

He smiled, "I knew there was something. Consider them bought."

You looked to Ben wide eyed, "No, you don't have to. Don't waste your money on me."

He held your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, and gave you a smirk, "It isn't a waste if you make me food with them. And, besides, I have more money than I know what to do with. The least I could do is use it to buy useful things for someone. Especially a good friend."

Your cheeks warmed, and you quickly turned away and continued to the kitchen, "A good friend?"

He followed you again, "Yes. Well, I don't really have friends right now. But you said I could consider us friends. So I do. And you're my best one. Although my bodyguard Max is a close second, he's cool, and spots me when I work out."

You just shook your head and took out all of the leftovers you had and two plates, beginning to serve yourself before speaking again, "Help yourself, Ben."

He took the other plate and assembled an assortment of all the leftovers. A taco, some pasta, meatloaf, chicken and biscuits, definitely more than a snack. Then he sat down and began to eat everything cold.

You microwaved your food and watched him, "You can warm it up you know."

He quickly swallowed his mouthful, "I know. But I don't want to. It is good like this."

You chuckled, "Alright Ben. Do you want something to drink?"

"Just water is fine. Thank you."

You got your food and set it down then got each of you water, "Can I ask you a question?"

He looked at you, taking a sip of water before speaking, "Always. Anything. I'll tell you anything you want to know."

You smiled, "Why do you always eat so fast? And you take such big bites."

He hummed, "Well, I have a big mouth, so the bites you take are tiny to me. And I don't quite know why I eat so fast. I get it from my dad, I think. I just ate like him growing up so I could play with him more."

You chuckled, "Okay… And all of you is big, Benny. Just look how big your hand is compared to mine."

You held out your hand so he could see, and he placed his on yours, "Maybe you're just small?"

You shook your head and moved to hold his hand, "No, you're definitely just big. Huge even. Every part."

He smirked, "Maybe it is both? You're small and I'm gigantic."

"You are not gigantic. Just big."

He chuckled, "Have you seen my feet?"

You looked away, grabbing your water, "I have."

He smiled, "Well, you know what they say about big feet?"

You gave him a surprised look, almost choking on your water, as he took a dramatic pause.

He grinned, "Big shoes. And I have to special order shoes online. So at least my feet are gigantic."

You laughed and went back to eating. 

He stayed silent for a bit then spoke again, "My turn for a question."

You looked up to him, "Of course."

He looked away then turned back, "You didn't completely shoot down the thought of my terror. You even said if. Why?"

It was your turn to look away, face warming quickly, "Because. I, uhh… well. You see."

He cut off your stammering, speaking fast, "I like you. A lot. Like I have a crush on you. It isn't why I asked to stay here though. I just knew I'd actually have a break here." He stood up and walked away before you could respond, "Sorry, shouldn't have brought it up. I'll go back to bed, forget I said anything."

You lept out of your seat and grabbed his arm, "No! I like you too, I think. Well, I knew who Kylo Ren was before I was hired, didn't know he'd be working the same movie I applied for. And I thought he was cute. But as soon as I found out I worked for him I pushed those feelings aside in order to be professional."

He stopped in his tracks and turned to you, "You think I'm cute?"

You nodded, "Yes. And very nice and personable."

He smiled, "So. You like me?"

You returned his smile, "Yes, I said that already."

"Can I kiss your cheek?"

"Yes."

He leaned down to kiss your cheek, right in the center, careful not to be too close to your lips. He went back to his full height, smiling wide.

You just watched him, butterflies rampant inside you, then reached up to cup his cheek. Your voice was soft, "My turn."

He leaned down enough so you could reach, and hummed when you hugged him tight, hugging back.

You rocked side to side while hugging him, "I like you, Ben Solo."

He let out a yawn, "I like you, too, (y/n)."

You pat his arm as you pulled out of the hug, "Go back to bed now, Ben. I'll see you in the morning, and we can talk more."

He nodded and pat the top of your head, "Goodnight."

You smiled and watched him go back, pushing the door closed then opening it back up and waving to you, which you returned, "Goodnight Ben."

He left the door open then went into bed, curling up under the covers. You went back into the kitchen to put everything away, leaving the plates until morning, then went to your nest of blankets on the couch, quickly falling asleep.

In the morning you woke to sounds in the kitchen. You got up, still sleepy, and went to the kitchen. You found Ben reading one of your recipes and trying to find everything he needed. 

Your voice revealed your grogginess, "Ben? What're you doing?"

He whirled around, having not heard you shuffle up, "I'm, I'm uhh. I'm trying to make you pancakes. I found it in your book and decided to do something for you. But I can't find the measuring stuff."

You moved to the drawer he was in front of, "They are here."

You pulled out what he needed and went back to the couch, still tired, not really registering what was happening. You fell back asleep and woke up some time later to nudging.

You lazily swatted at the hand pushing your shoulder, "Five more minutes."

Ben chuckled, "I already gave you that. Your pancakes will get cold if you wait any longer."

You hummed, still nowhere near functioning, "Ooh, I like pancakes."

Ben pulled on your arm to get you to sit up, "Then get up, (y/n). I made breakfast. And don't make me carry you."

You reached out your arms, "Take me away, sir."

He smirked and picked you up bridal style, "Did you drink after I went back to sleep or something?"

You giggled, "No. Just very sleepy. Trying to regain some of my energy, I guess."

He set you in the chair and set a plate with pancakes and fruit in front of you, "Alright. But it is time to fully wake up now. I can give you a caffeine pill if you want."

You took some deep breaths and shook your head, trying to fight your grogginess, "No. I'm good. I'm slowly becoming a normal human again."

He smiled and handed you a cup of orange juice, "Drink this. Maybe the sugar will help."

You took a sip and hummed, "Thank you, Benny."

He blushed at the nickname, despite you having used it before, "You're welcome."

You began to eat, "These are good Ben. You did a good job."

"Thank you. I was following a pretty good recipe."

You got a confused look on your face, "Did I wake up and pull out the measuring cups and spoons for you?"

He hummed, "Yeah. You did. Then you went back to sleep."

"Oh, I thought I was dreaming."

He chuckled, "You were not."

You nodded and ate, slowly becoming more human. 

After breakfast, with casual silence, the two of you went to the couch to watch something.

You looked at him, "Do you like watching tv and movies? Like ones you aren't in."

He nodded, "I do. I prefer more documentary type stuff than pure entertainment. I just know or have seen in person too many people, and I start trying to find ways to emulate other's techniques in my acting."

"That makes sense. What do you tend to gravitate towards? Food, history, science, nature?"

"I like science stuff, and food and cooking. Sometimes I'll do history or nature or animals. I also like home renovation and building shows."

You turned on a cooking competition show and curled up in the corner of the couch under one of your fuzzy blankets. Ben took another blanket and covered himself, curling up in the opposite corner.

Soon the two of you were rooting for different contestants, yelling at them for making risky decisions, pleading for them to hurry up and plate their food already. 

At the end of the episode the two of you just looked at the other and began to laugh.

You grabbed Ben's hand, "Are you sure we haven't been best friends for years?"

He squeezed your hand, "I'm pretty sure. But it feels like we have."

You paused the next episode as the beginning started to play, "I should go down and check the mail. Your clothes should be here, right?"

He checked his phone, "Yeah. It is saying they've actually been delivered now."

You pulled on a sweatshirt and sandals, grabbed your mailbox key, and looked to Ben, "I'll be right back."

He waved and you went down and got the three boxes and one bag. Thankfully all of them had your name on them and nobody was around, so you got back without interacting with anybody else. 

You kicked the door to knock, “Ben, open the door. How much did you order?”

The door opened and he took everything from you, “Sorry. But not everything is for me.”

You walked in and locked the door, “Benjamin. What’s your middle name?”

He looked away, blushing, “The initial is C.”

“Benjamin C. Solo, you did not buy me something.”

“I did. And there are no returns. You are keeping it. Now I just need to figure out which box it is in.”

He began opening boxes, looking for something, and then he found the smaller box in one of the boxes, and held it out to you, “Here. For you.”

You took the box and opened it, to find a nice watch, “Ben. No. I can’t accept this.”

He gave you a pointed look, “You are. I’ve noticed you don’t have one, so I felt you should get one. And I can fix the band size for you. I used to work at a watch shop.”

You took it out of the box and tried it on while he ripped open the bag and tossed something else at you, “Ben!”

He smiled and looked away, “I also got more of your drug of choice. Caffeine pills.”

You sat next to him and he adjusted the band for it to fit your wrist.

He looked to you, kind of bashful, “I hope you don’t mind I got that for you. I was ordering other things from the company and saw it. Like I said, I want to use my money for others. I donate too. A lot. All the food banks and human and animal shelters in the county, here and at home. Also I did order you a grill pan. It will be here on Saturday. But I’ll get that from downstairs.”

You just hugged him, “Thank you Ben. I love it.”

He turned to look at you after you pulled back and you locked eyes. You both smiled at the other, and without thinking you both leaned toward each other. 

Time stopped. 

You smiled and then the lips against yours spread wide too. 

The air filled with mirth. 

Time stopped again. Then again. And another time.

Your hands were in silky hair again, and there were hands in yours. 

Time kept pausing. And you didn’t want it to stop happening. But you needed to breathe.

You pulled back and looked at the culprit of the stoppage of time, smiling like a fool, “I like that.”

The culprit smiled too, “Me too.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, “How about a bit more?”

It was your turn to stop time.

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Don’t you hear my call though you’re many years away - Chapter 5

A/N: Get ready to spend some time with John! This is all types up on my phone, please forgive any grammatical or punctuation errors. No clue or the word count.

Warnings: minor angst, mentions of drinking, slow burn.

I was amazed I slept at all that night, but I did, and I slept well. I woke around 8 the next morning. Smiling. I popped out of bed to start getting ready for my morning with John, and the afternoon with the band. Excitement was better than caffeine any day.

I took my time getting ready, I even curled my hair at the ends, but still parting it down the center, as that seemed to be the style.

I was applying my perfume when there was a soft knock at the door. It was a little before 10, I knew it was John, but I couldn’t seem too eager.

I pressed my ear to the door and asked “who is it?”

I heard a chuckle and he replied “it’s John Deacon.”

When I opened the door, he was beaming at me, his eyes crinkling.

“Hi” I sighed at the sight of him, still shocked that John Deacon was at my door, “good morning.”

“Good morning, sorry I’m early” he said as he shoved his hands in his back pockets.

“That’s alright, I’m almost ready. Come in”, I said taking a step back.

As he passed the threshold into the room and closer to me, I put my hand on his chest, stopping him. He looked me in the eye, with a soft smile painted on his face. I leaned in, and he met me half way. The kiss was sweet and gentle, much like his hand on my cheek.

I pulled back slightly and said “now it’s a great morning.”

His smile grew as I moved my hand from his chest and he made his way into the room.

I shut the door and as I turn around I was stopped in my tracks when I found him sitting on the foot of the unmade bed, leaning back on his hands. Heat scorched through my body, aching to be pressed against him. I could tell John was having similar thoughts as he raked his eyes over me and bit his lower lip.

I let out a shaky breath as I made my way across the room and past him to a window where I’d placed my earrings on the sill. I was trembling slightly as I leaned over picked them up.

“So what’s the plan for this morning?” I asked turning around, catching him checking me out from behind. I guess there was something to these short shorts.

His cheeks turned red, as he stumbled over his words, “oh, uh...well, um whatever you wanted.”

“I was thinking maybe you could show me around the area today, so I can get familiar with it, then possibly over the course of the month I’m here, maybe you could show me other places? Buckingham, Trafalgar, ya know, the major points of interest...” I suggested. Maybe I was pushing things.

“Sure” he said “I aim to please.”

I looked up at him from putting my shoes on.

“Is that right?” I asked. He nodded, keeping a wicked smile plastered on his face.

I sauntered towards him, his eyes following my every move. Once I was in front of him, I leaned down and put a hand on each of his legs, giving them a gentle squeeze as I moved my lips to his, keeping just a breath apart. He tried to kiss me, but I moved back, earning me a raised brow from him. I hovered my lips over his again as I whispered, “I think I’m going to enjoy having you as my guide.” I brushed a kissed against the side of his mouth, stood up and turned on my heels.

Once I was at the door, I looked back at him over my shoulder to find him rubbing his palms up and down this thighs.

“Ready?” I asked cheerfully.

“Uh...yeah, sure” he said as he stood up.

I held my hand out as he walked up to me, he took it without hesitation.

**

Our morning started out with a stop at a small bakery he suggested because of their chocolate croissants, and was he right. They were delicious, I’d have to be careful, I could eat them every morning.

We stayed in the area, John telling me some history he knew, places that had been rebuilt after the war, and others still showing the scars of bombings on their facade. I could listen to him talk all day. He could read me the ingredients list off a box of cereal and I’d be enthralled.

He showed me his favorite record store, where we browsed around a bit, and he asked me about my record collection. I panicked seeing as I didn’t even have a CD collection any more, but luckily I grew up with parents who loved their records, I was able to list a few of my favorites off the top of my head,

“I like Ray Charles, The Beatles, The Temptations, The Beach Boys. I tend to listen to a little of everything I guess.”

He told me about bands he liked, and records he was looking forward to buying. His taste leaned towards Motown but he said the Beatles were one of his favorite bands, and mentioned that he really enjoyed Elton John’s “Your Song”.

Scanning the records, I found a 45 of “La Vie En Rose” by Louis Armstrong. I picked it up and showed John.

“I love this song! I have it as my...” I caught myself, I was about to say ringtone but that wouldn’t make any sense to him.

John looked at me, his brow peaked, questioningly.

“You have it as what?” He asked.

“I’m not sure what I was trying to say,” I laughed nervously “I just meant it’s one of my all time favorite songs.”

He’s caught my slip up, but didn’t seem too concerned with it as he spoke.

“Not sure I know that song, but I do know Louis Armstrong.” He said.

“La Vie En Rose” I said “it was in one of my favorite movies, ‘Sabrina’.”

“Not familiar with that one” he replied with a small shake of his head.

“You’ll have to watch it some day,” I said, and held up the 45 “and you’ll have to listen to this!”

“Promise” he said with a sweet smile.

As we left the record store he talked to me about school, and explained what he was studying. Most of which went over my head. He also told me he would be sitting some tests in the near future.

“I know you’ll do well” I said.

“You think so?” He asked.

“Of course. I just know it.” I said encouragingly.

Eventually we made our way back to Kensington Market, and walked all 3 floors. He even showed me where Roger and Freddie had a stall, even though they weren’t there that day. I could see why it was such a popular place, but he said he tended to avoid it because it was always so crowded.

As we left the market he asked if I was hungry.

“I could eat” I replied.

We walked to a small shop, where we bought a couple of sandwiches and sodas, since John suggested we have a picnic in a near by park. The same park I traveled to. The one I’d be traveling from. I made sure we were no where near that area as we sat in the soft grass. I had an irrational fear that I’d be sent back before getting to know him better.

“Tell me about your family” he said, as we sat in the shade.

“Well, I’m the youngest. My older brother, he’s 10 years older than me, he manages a book store, he’s not married, but I’d love for his current girlfriend to become my sister in law. My Dad works for a telephone company, he’s made his way to management over the years, and my mom is a housewife.” I replied, keeping with the story my friends and I had developed. My brother actually managed an electronics store, and my mom was a compliance officer at a bank.

I continued, this time with the truth, “I have a large extended family. There’s so many of use that family gatherings look more like block parties. But we’re all very close despite the sheer number of us.”

“What about school, what do you want to teach?” He asked, picking at a few blades grass.

“I hope to teach art, I love art.” Not a complete lie, I did love art, which is why I was majoring in digital art, my Dad and his mother both did their share of painting, where I leaned more toward photography and graphic design.

“Maybe we could visit a few of the museums while you’re here then” he suggested.

“I’d love that” I replied sincerely.

“What happens if your family should run into your ex, while you’re here I mean?” He asked, out of left field.

“Oh, well they won’t. He doesn’t live in my hometown, we met in college, so it’s unlikely they’ll see him. But if they did, what could they do? I’m already here.” I said with a laugh.

He seemed satisfied with that answer when I asked him to tell me about his family. Not thinking it might be a sensitive subject until he cast his eyes down.

He told me about his parents and sister, and how he lost his father at a young age. He shared his favorite memories of him with me. As he spoke I took his hand in mine. I could see why people labeled him as fragile in the future. But he wasn’t. He was sensitive, but that didn’t make him weak, he just felt everything deeply. The loss of his father affected him tremendously. As would Freddie’s. At that moment I didn’t give a passing thought to what my leaving would mean, but I didn’t know yet where our relationship was heading.

“Hey” I said softly, changing the subject “do you think we could make a stop so I could buy some beer? Just as my way of saying thank you again to you and your friends?”

“Sure, we can stop at the off license on the way to the flat.” He replied.

“The what? And what flat? I thought you had practice tonight.” I said.

He laughed. We’d been playing this ‘game’ all day. I didn’t know a biscuit was a cookie, or that bin was trash can, now I didn’t now what an off license was.

“An off license” he said, smiling as his eyes crinkling “is where you buy beer, wine and such outside a pub.”

“Oh you mean a liquor store?” I asked.

“If that’s what Americans call them, then yes.” He laughed and continued “and a flat is an apartment.”

“I knew that one!” I defended myself, playfully pushing him.

He took that moment to lean over and kiss me, and catching me off guard, we toppled over in the grass. I started laughing instantly while John looked embarrassed for a moment but joined in my laughter.

“You have a beautiful smile” he said.

“Yours isn’t so bad either” I replied coyly.

He leaned down, meeting my lips with his to finish the kiss we had fumbled. He lowered his body so it pressed against mine, causing me to moan into his mouth.

He broke the kiss far too quickly, making me whimper.

“As much as I’d like to continue this,” he said in a husky voice “I’d rather not be arrested for being ‘indecent’ in a public park.”

I doubt we looked indecent, we probably looked more like a tangled heap of arms, legs and hair, as mine was splayed behind my head, and his curtained our faces.

I huffed and said “damn rules and laws.”

He pushed himself off me, stood and offered me his hand.

**

As we walked to his shared flat from the off license, he suggested I was trying to bribe his friends since I had bought beer, wine and whiskey. He may not have been wrong.

“How do manage to practice here with out your neighbors complaining?” I asked as we approached the stairs.

“They’re mostly our age, so they don’t complain much. But we’re not plugging in tonight. And fair warning, be prepared for bickering.” He said as he opened the door.

I couldn’t wait.

@queensdivas @liliah39 @leah-halliwell92 @painkiller80 @painandpleasure86 @deakys-chesthair @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @heybuddy-drabbles @queenwouldyourathers @mirkwoodshewolf @anincurablefangirl @ixchel-9275 @deakysmisfire @thosequeenboys @tryin-her-best @bornonaugust191951 @deacyspatronusisacheesetoastie

[maluminspace]

You’re A Soft Touch

Genre: parent!malum fluff

Pairings: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood

Word Count: 1768

Requested: by my sweet lil Vicky @myfalsedevotion for spooky!sos2019

Trigger Warnings: n/a

A/N: I love writing these two as sappy husbands and dads! I hope you all enjoy it 💕

Even when the heavens had decided to open mid-way through the walk home from school, Michael’s spirits were still high. He’d always loved Halloween and his enthusiasm had luckily been inherited by both of his children.

Tama giggled as he jumped into every puddle he came across. Unfortunately he didn’t let go of Michael’s hand at any point so the young father’s jeans were already soaked through. He didn’t care one bit, though.

“When can we go trick or treating, daddy?” Bonnie asked, her bright brown eyes peaking up at Michael from beneath the bright red hood of her raincoat. She looked particularly cute in her bright raincoat and rainbow coloured wellies.

“Later, sweetheart.” The blonde man replied. “I have a surprise for you at home, first.”

Both children grinned widely. “Ooh what is it?” Tama asked, finally taking a break from splashing in puddles.

“You’ll have to wait and see, precious!” Michael replied, “Your dad’s making sure it’s all ready for when we get home.”

Both of the twins squealed with excitement and Michael couldn’t stop the biggest smile from curling his lips.

The rest of the walk home passed by quickly as they discussed school and which of their neighbours the children thought would have the best sweets for trick or treating.

When they finally reached their cozy little house, the twins ran up the driveway, yelling for their other father to reveal their surprise.

Michael laughed to himself as he took off his coat and boots. The house was so warm and smelt of home cooking. Calum must have started dinner already.

“Woah there, you two!” Calum yelled from somewhere deeper inside the house. “You can see the surprise when you’ve taken off your wet clothes and helped your dad feed the kittens!”

There was a flurry of whining before the two children plodded back into the hallway. “Dad said we have to help you feed the kitties before we can have our surprise.” Tama pouted, kicking off his bright red wellies and shrugging off his blue raincoat.

Michael chuckled softly. “Let’s get you into some clean, dry clothes first, yeah?”

Bonnie was also shuffling out of her own raincoat when Calum appeared in the hallway to help with the post-school operation. “Can we change into our costumes?” The little girl asked, glancing between both of her fathers, her chocolate brown eyes sparkling with hope.

“Fine...” Calum replied, “let me know if you need some help putting them on okay?”

The twins giggled excitedly as they scurried upstairs and out of sight.

“You’re a soft touch, daddy Cal.” Michael smirked. “You say it’s always me that gives into them, but I think we’ve seen enough proof that you’re just as bad.”

“Oh yeah?” Calum snarled playfully, backing Michael up against the wall. “I think you’ll find you’re still the worst, actually. Maybe someone needs a bit of a Halloween spanking to remind them who’s the boss?” He insisted, pinning Michael’s hips to the wall as he allowed his lips to brush the blonde’s stubbled jawline.

“Calum...” Michael whined. “You can’t do this to me now, the kids will be back down in a minute.”

“Oh, I know.” Calum replied, his voice low and gravelly as his breath ghosted over Michael’s ear teasingly. “The wait will be all part of your punishment.”

Michael groaned needily. “Calum!” He gasped. “You can’t do this to me, it’s been weeks since we had time to... y’know...”

Calum giggled, pulling back from his husband before heading back down the hallway. “Well hopefully this will give you an incentive to get the kids to bed on time, for once.” He shrugged, glancing back to aim a wink at Michael over his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

The older man had barely had chance to recover before Bonnie and Tama were scampering along the landing and down the stairs. They both had beaming smiles on their faces as they yelled for Michael to look at their costumes.

When asked what they’d like to dress up as, both of the five year olds had asked if the whole family could be pirates. Michael and Calum had agreed, happy that their ideas hadn’t been too outlandish this year.

To make sure that their costumes stood out amongst the crowds, the dedicated fathers had made each of the four pirate costumes themselves. They’d mostly used old clothing and distressed them using scissors and marker pens.

Of course, Michael had the bright idea of letting the kids make some of the design decisions for their own outfits. This had resulted in Bonnie requesting that almost every inch of her baggy, torn t-shirt be filled with a drawing of a skull and crossbone. Her outfit was completed by a little hat and the biggest sword she could find in the costume shop.

Tama had opted for a stripped t-shirt and bandanna. He’d decided to go for style over size regarding his sword which was much smaller than Bonnie’s but the handle was far more ornate.

“Wow!” Michael grinned proudly. “You look incredible!” He beamed. “Why don’t we go and show your dad, huh?”

The words had barely left the blonde’s mouth before the five year olds had sped off into the kitchen. Michael followed them, still beaming happily. By the time he reached the kitchen, Calum was already grinning from ear to ear. “I can’t wait to get pictures of us all when me and your dad are all dressed up too!” He said, giving each of the twins a huge hug.

The children squealed as they jumped up and down asking when they could have their surprise.

“We need to feed the cats first, remember?” Michael asked ushering the excited twins over to the little food bowls in the corner of the room. He grabbed the box of cat biscuits from the shelf they were kept on and handed it to Bonnie. “Why don’t you fill up Smudge’s bowl and then Tama can fill up Socks’s one, okay? I’ll fill their water bowls.”

The twins nodded and set about their task as Michael picked up the little ceramic water bowls and carried them over to the sink. As he rinsed and filled the bowl he was aware of Calum watching him and he felt his cheeks heat up under his husband’s gaze. “Why’re you staring?” He giggled, meeting Calum’s eye briefly.

“Just deciding what I’m gonna do with you later.” The younger man replied with a smirk, keeping his voice low enough that the children wouldn’t hear.

Michael bit his bottom lip between his teeth but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the comment. He had some parenting to do before he could get ravaged by his husband.

“We’re done!” Tama announced, holding up the cat biscuits towards his fathers. “Can we have our surprise now?”

Calum smirked at Michael suggestively - silently promising a good night later, before he crossed the room and took the cat biscuits from his son to store them back in the shelf. “Sure, buddy. It’s in the dining room. Don’t touch anything until we get there, though, okay? We’ll be there in just a second.”

Tama and Bonnie grinned widely before scampering off into the hallway without a second glance.

“You’re such a tease.” Michael pouted as soon as the twins were out of earshot. “I can’t wait for later...”

“Well you’ll have to.” Calum shrugged. “We have some serious pumpkin carving and trick or treating to do before I can focus all of my attention on you.” He made sure that his fingers brushed the back of Michael’s hand as he walked past.

“I‘ll hold you to that last part...” Michael grinned, feeling like an excited teenager at the prospect of sex.

The husbands made their way into the dining room to find the twins waiting impatiently by the table Calum had set up earlier. It had four pumpkins laid out on it along with the tools to carve them.

“I’m gonna make mine look like a cat’s face!” Bonnie announced, pointing at the smallest pumpkin of the bunch.

“I want mine to look like a ghost!” Tama added as he shuffled onto one of the chairs.

Calum placed a brief kiss to Michael’s cheek before taking his place at the table before confirming which pumpkin each of the twins wanted.

“Can we put candles in them afterwards?” Bonnie asked hopefully as Michael dropped into the seat next to her. “They’ll make the front garden look spooky!”

Michael chuckled, loving the way that Bonnie’s eyes sparkled just like Calum’s when she was excited or happy.

“Of course we can and they really will!” Calum promised, “but why don’t you two practice drawing out your designs on these pieces of paper whilst me and daddy hollow all of these pumpkins out, yeah?”

The twins nodded gleefully, each of them grabbing a handful of pens and a sheet of paper before scribbling down their designs.

As Michael and Calum carefully hollowed out all of the pumpkins, they couldn’t help glancing up to look at the twins occasionally. It was adorable how much effort they were putting into this and it made Michael melt a little. He almost shed a tear when Tama made a mistake on his drawing, his little face dropping into a disappointed frown before Bonnie helped him fix it. The cute moment brought a thought to the front of Michael’s mind and the words. “I want another one...” spilled from his lips before he even knew what he was doing.

Calum looked confused at first, before noticing that Michael was staring loving at the twins. “Another baby?” He asked, his shocked tone masked a little by the pure fondness he had for his family.

Nodding sheepishly, Michael tried to hide his his blushing face by leaning closer to his pumpkin.

Calum lifted his husband’s chin gently until their gazes met across the table. His eyes were full of some deep emotion but his facial expression was soft. “Mike, do want another baby?” He repeated, needing to hear the confirmation.

“Yeah...” Michael replied quietly. “I know I haven’t said anything before but I’ve been thinking about it and...”

“My too.” Calum interrupted. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot too... We can discuss it more when the twins have gone to bed, yeah?”

Michael’s heart was beating so fast as he leaned across the table to peck a kiss to his husband’s lips. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Calum replied, stroking a strand of Michael’s hair out of his face. “I think it’s about time the Hood family got a bit bigger, don’t you?”

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Tag list: @clffrd @byxthexway @afuckingunicornn @lukesahoy @thrillchaser @moonchildsblack @calumbbyyy @h0tsos @valentinelrh @sexgodashton @megz1985 @stonedahlia @myfalsedevotion @aulxna @honeyedlashton @tea4sykes

[leiascully]

Fic:  Baseball Metaphors (12/12?)

Part One  |  Part Two  |  Part Three |  Part Four |  Part Five |  Part Six  |  Part Seven |  Part Eight |  Part Nine  |   Part Ten  |  Part Eleven

Swing for the fences, friends.  This one’s a home run.  NSFW.  Is it the end?  Maybe.

Mulder wakes up with Scully's hair in his mouth.  He doesn't remember falling asleep, but somehow they're both curled up on his couch.  His body is cupped around hers, a balustrade between her and the edge.  His arm is draped over her and she has her hands clasped over his.  He closes his eyes again and breathes her in, the faint and fading scents of shampoo and perfume overlaid by a delicate note of sweat and just a hint of booze.  Now that he's thinking of it, they ended up watching Nell too, though they were paying more attention to the bottle of wine and the swiftly-melting pints of ice cream than to Jodie Foster's exquisite portrayal of a wild girl reminiscent of the Jersey Devil.  He vaguely recalls their conversation: Scully, telling him all about the baby shower, about her own worries about bringing a child into a world full of dangers, about her fears that she won't ever even have the option.  He remembers pulling her close, kissing the top of her head, and assuring her that he'll defend her hopes and dreams with his life and get to the bottom of the mysteries that have consumed some part of her.

His bladder aches.  He's got morning wood and it isn't exactly comfortable.  His head is throbbing a little from the potent combination of alcohol and sugar.  But more than any of that, his heart is knocking against his ribs like it grew three sizes.  He sighs against the round of her skull.  He'd swear to himself if he knew he wouldn't wake her.  

He's been half in love with Dana Scully since a rainy graveyard in Oregon, completely gone since a blinding light at the top of a mountain revealed him to himself even as it took her.  But he's been able to keep it under wraps until now.  

He doesn't think he'll be able to anymore.

He eases away from her.  She stirs and murmurs, but doesn't wake up.  He gazes down at her.  She's frowning, just a little.  He wonders if she'll wake with the same twinges.  It would be too much to hope that her love for him is expansive enough to contain romance.  She's made it clear that their playacting is nothing but theater.  But he at least hopes that she'll open her eyes happier than she was last night.

Before he goes to shower, he puts on a pot of coffee.  Maybe between the two, he can clear his head.  When he emerges, trying to keep his pajama bottoms from slipping down his hips, Scully is sipping coffee in his kitchen.  She winces a little, but he's pretty sure it isn't the sight of his bare chest that does it.

"I, ah, let go a little last night," she says.

"You needed it," he reassures her, reaching for a mug and pouring himself some coffee.  

"Thank you," she says.

"Any time," he tells her.  "Any of it.  Any time."

"I have to admit I'm enjoying the benefits of our arrangement," she says.  

"They're extremely beneficial," he agrees.  

"Perhaps it could continue," she suggests.  "I'm hoping that after the baby is born that our friendship with Ethan and Jenny will inevitably peter out, but this...is nice."  She rolls her shoulders.  "Despite the way my back feels after spending the night on your couch."

"That's fine with me," he says.

"We're doing all right, aren't we?" she asks.  "At keeping this separate from work?  At having boundaries?"

"Definitely," he says, though his heart thuds.  "Strict parameters."

"I just wouldn't want to lose what we have," she says, her eyes searching his face.  "It means so much to me."

"I feel the same," he says, and it's not a lie.  He wants more, but more than that, he doesn't want to interfere with the relationship they already have.  She's a pillar of his life.  Adding romance to the mix wouldn't be worth any temporary happiness if it changed the fundamental alchemy of their friendship.  She turns him to gold.  But still, looking at her drinking coffee in his kitchen with the morning light in her mussed hair, it would be easy to tell her that he loves her, and to sweep her up in his arms.  

Instead he sips at his coffee and just fills himself up with the sight of her.

Later, he goes to the bank.  He rarely visits his safety deposit box, but he did eventually move everything down to DC.  He rifles through the stock certificates and whatever other papers his father left him until he finds the jewelry box underneath that holds his grandmother's ring.  Ethan isn't the only one with an heirloom.  He opens the box and lets the diamonds catch the light.  It's a little ostentatious, in his opinion, and he doesn't think that it's really Scully's style either, but at least it will give her a moment of triumph, since that seems to be what she needs when it comes to this whole situation with Ethan and Jenny.  He snaps the box shut.  He'll take it to the jewelers, get it clean and sized to fit her, and it'll be a nice surprise for the next time they have dinner.   And after that, she can keep it.  He wasn't expecting to get it back when Diana left.  He doesn't plan on ever giving it away again.

Their next dinner isn't dinner.  They have brunch at some new place, biscuits and gravy and eggs over easy.  The food is good enough and plentiful enough to make conversation mostly unnecessary.  They order a pitcher of orange juice-based mocktails in deference to Jenny's condition.  Mulder's glad.  He doesn't need anything dulling his senses.  Jenny tears apart the last morsels of an orange roll that was almost the size of her head.

"So good!" she says.  "Don't you agree, Dana?"

"Delicious," Scully agrees, alternating between fruit salad and eggs Benedict on a biscuit.  They all tried the orange roll.  Jenny insisted.  It was good.  He doesn't have any memories of his parents baking to compare it to.

"Thanks for making the time," Ethan says.  "Now that the house is all settled, we're swamped with wedding planning.  Appointments all afternoon and we're trying out some places for the rehearsal dinner over the next few weeks."

"Starting tonight," Jenny says.  "We're just hoping for something that's contemporary but classic."

"Sort of a fusion between modern and traditional," Ethan agrees.  

"Of course," Scully says gravely, as if she doesn't believe that words have meaning.  

"Must be something in the air," Mulder says.  "Seems like weddings are all that's on anyone's mind."

"Everybody wants a June wedding," Jenny says.  "We really should have all this nailed down by now, but, well, you understand the complications."

"I'm more of an October wedding type myself," Mulder says.  "Autumn is so atmospheric.  Fallen leaves.  Cider doughnuts.  Sunny afternoons and foggy nights."

"You would want an October wedding," Scully murmurs.

"I would," he says, looking at her.  He eases closer to the edge of his chair, and then, before he can think about it, he's out of his seat and kneeling next to hers.  He reaches into his pocket for the jewelry box.  

"Fox," she says.

"What do you say, Dana?" he asks.  "Red leaves and your red hair.  A nice little ceremony in an orchard, or in a little church with a view of the sea.  We can honeymoon in a bed and breakfast somewhere with a fireplace in every room."

She looks at him with wide blue eyes.  He no longer knows or cares if there's anyone else in the room.  

"Will you marry me, Dana?" he asks softly.  

"Will the bed and breakfast be haunted?" she says at last, her voice barely above a whisper.  

He smiles, still kneeling.  "Do you want it to be?"

"I don't believe in ghosts," she says, "but it sounds romantic."

He opens the jewelry box and offers it up to her.  "Then I'll book the most haunted B&B in New England," he promises.

She reaches out to touch the ring, running her fingertips delicately over the cut facets of the diamonds.  "Yes," she says.  "I'll marry you.  Yes."  

He stands up, slips the ring onto her finger, and pulls her up for a kiss.  She tips her face up to his.  They melt into each other.  He doesn't know what's going through her mind, but at least her mouth is enthusiastic against his.  

When they pull apart, the whole restaurant is clapping.  Jenny's crying.  Ethan rubs her shoulders.  

"That was so sweet!" Jenny sobs.  Ethan hands her a napkin.  

"Hmm," Scully says, still snug against Mulder's body.  Her hand with the ring is braced against his chest, the better to show it off.  "He has his moments."

Mulder pulls out his wallet and tosses some money onto the table.  "Let me know if this doesn't cover it," he says.  "I think we've got some things to discuss."

"Go right ahead," Ethan says.  "And congratulations!"

"Thank you," Mulder says, and steers Scully out of the restaurant.  The dreamy smile on her face fades only slightly as she gets into his car.

"That was inspired," she says.  

"Just a little something I cooked up," he says.

"And whose ring am I wearing?" she asks, holding it so it catches the light.

He makes a noncommittal noise.  "Yours."

"And before it was mine?" she asks.  "I admit I'm not up on the current styles, but it looks like it has a story."

"My grandmother's," he says.  That's true, if not the whole truth.  

"Hmm," she says.  "It's lovely."

"I don't know anything about jewelry," he says, shrugging as he drives.  "Just used what I had on hand."  

"You always manage to surprise me," she tells him.  "It might have been nice to have a little notice today."

"Theoretically, you've had months of notice," he teases.  "And I needed you to look shocked."  

"It was a hell of an escalation," she says.  "Are we going to have to get fake married now?"

"I guess that depends," he muses.  "How long are Ethan and Jenny going to be in our lives?"

"I wish I knew," she says, looking out the window.  

"I'll start looking into haunted B&Bs," he tells her.  "Just in case."

"Probably a good idea," she says.  "Mulder."

He turns onto her street.  "Hmm."  

"I know it isn't their housewarming today, and that might break our rules, but I think we've been on third base long enough."  Her hand drops to his thigh.  

"And here I thought I was going to get in trouble," he says as her fingers wander from his knee to his groin and back.

"Oh, you'll definitely be in trouble," she promises.  "But you always enjoy that."

"I can't even deny it," he says, parking the car.

They don't kiss against the car.  They don't kiss against her door.  They don't fall madly onto her couch.  She leads him into her bedroom.  He skims her blouse over her head.  She unbuttons his shirt.  She unhooks her own bra as he undoes her skirt and kisses the place where her shoulder meets her neck.  Her fingers make short work of his belt and his pants fall to his ankles.  He kicks out of them and toes off his shoes and socks.  Scully leaves her shoes on, and he's glad for the height of her heels.  His lips mumble along her collarbone and up the slant of her throat as his hands rise to her breasts.  She scratches her nails delicately down his back and then drops out of his hold to push his boxers down his legs.  She kisses his hipbone and lips briefly at his cock.  As she rises, he returns the favor, sliding down her body to shuck her out of her panties.  They look at each other, completely naked for the first time since they began this endeavour, and then she holds out her hand and leads him to her bed.

They spend a long time just kissing, their bodies pressed against each other.  Touching her is like listening to his favorite French songs from high school: she's a language he never quite forgot how to speak.  He's always known her by heart.  Despite their limited experience in body-to-body communication, he's fluent in the soft sounds she makes and the way she rises against him.    

At long last, she rolls away and reaches into the drawer of her bedside table for a condom.  He sits up, bracing himself against the headboard of her bed.  She hands him the condom and he rips open the packet and rolls it on.  She watches him quietly.  He tosses the packet away and beckons to her.

"Come here, Scully," he says.

She swings her knee over his legs and hovers over his hips.   He sleeks his hands down her sides and waits, gazing up at her.  She leans down to kiss him.

"You ready?" he asks.

"So ready," she says.  He reaches down and steadies his cock as she eases onto him.  She makes a pleased little noise and grinds down against him.  He draws her closer for a kiss as they start to move together.  He thrusts up into her and she's just as tight and hot around him as he always dreamed.  He hopes he fills her up the way she longed for; the way she rises and falls over him seems to satisfy her.  He reaches for her clit, wanting to feel her shiver, and she moans against his lips.  Every sound she makes sends sparks through him.  

I love you, he says, and he isn't sure he says it out loud, but he says it with every touch, with every kiss.  He laces his fingers through her hair as she presses her forehead against his.  The space between them is filled with humid heat, her breath and his breath mingling, the sweat starting to dapple their skin.  It feels like a thunderstorm brewing.  They move in sync, rising and falling like clouds swelling across the plains.  Pleasure rolls through him like distant thunder.  He could calculate their pleasure counting the seconds between each rock of their hips.  One one thousand, two one thousand, and he's lost in her kisses again, in the way her fingers dig into his muscles, in the way she arches backward so that he can rasp his jaw across her breasts.  She spreads her legs, taking him in deeper, and he swears under his breath and tugs at her nipples with his lips, making her gasp.  She comes back up and he loops his free arm around her and holds her to him as she rides him faster and faster.  He puts his tongue in the hollow of her throat and sucks at her flushed skin.  He might leave a mark on her.  It seems only fair.  He's sure she'll look dashing in an ascot.  

Pleasure rumbles through him again, louder and more insistent now, and he can feel the tension building in her body.  He wants her to come first.  He needs her to come first.  He wants to feel her shudder around him.  He wants to hold her as she comes apart so that she knows he'll always be there in her hour of need.  He rubs quick circles around her clit.  Her thighs quiver around his hips.  She gasps out his name in exclamation and entreaty, and he jolts up into her and watches her come undone.  He thought she'd close her eyes when she came, but she gazes straight at him in something like worship.  Something like love.  She's rosy and dewy and glowing with satisfaction, and she whispers her need to him, coaxing him on to his own climax, and he feels the lightning strike him as she covers his face with kisses.  There's always a moment between the flash and the boom, but when it hits, his whole body shakes.  Scully holds him, murmuring to him, stroking his hair with one hand and his chest with the other, her forehead pressed to his again.

After a moment, they pull themselves together.  She sprawls next to him, stretching out her hand to make the ring catch the light again.  He gets up and pulls off the condom, tying it off and tossing it into her bathroom trash before coming back to lie next to her.

"It was a bold move," she says.  "From fake dating to fake engaged."

"I'll fake marry you if I have to," he says with a shrug, which would work better if he wasn't horizontal.  

"I'm Catholic," she says.  "There are classes to go to, even for a sham wedding."

"I can be an excellent student when it's necessary," he promises.  

"No, you wouldn't," she says.  "You'd have to apologize for living in sin, and I don't think you're sorry."

"Give me half an hour or so and I'll show you how not sorry I am," he says, yawning.  

She nestles against him.  "Thank you for doing all of this for me," she says.

"I'd do anything for you, Scully," he tells her, stroking her back.  "I hope you know that."

"Sometimes 'anything' has limits you don't know about until you run up against them," she says.  "But I'm glad to know you'd lie in front of a priest to protect my pride."

"Who says it would be a lie?" he says.  "At least then I could see you if you were in the hospital.  It would solve several problems for us if we got married."

"It might cause some others," she says.  

"Keep me updated," he tells her.  "That way I'll know whether to get a license."

"Mulder."  She props herself up on one elbow.  "You don't really want to get married."

"It's a possibility," he says.  "I could love, honor, and respect you.  I might even obey."

"I don't think you can go that far," she says, but she's smiling.  "I do like the idea of no man being able to put this asunder."

"Something to think about," he offers.

She drapes her arm over his chest and props her chin on the back of her hand.  "Somehow I never imagined a fake wedding when I was a little girl."

"It doesn't have to be fake," he says.  

"You're a romantic," she says.  "I always thought you'd marry for love."

"That's still the plan."  He tries to gaze steadily at her, but it's hard to focus at this angle.  

"Oh," she says after a moment.

"I won't hold you to that yes," he says, looking up at the ceiling.  Her bedroom is so nice and bright.

"I'll think about it," she says.  He can hear wonder in her voice.  He understands the hesitation.  It's a seismic shift, the ground beneath her feet suddenly clouds.  He's astride the elephant in the room, inviting her up.  He must be falling asleep, because his ideas aren't making sense anymore.

"You can keep the ring either way," he tells her.  "I wanted you to have it.  It looks good on you."

"It does," she says.  "I'll keep wearing it.  For now."

"Hell of a brunch," he says.  

"Yeah," she agrees.  "You really hit that home run out of the park."  She yawns.  "I'll take you up on that offer of a double play later."

"That's not what a double play is," he teases, shifting and drawing the blanket over them both.     

"I never got the hang of baseball metaphors," she says, nuzzling against him.  He kisses her forehead.  After a pause, she leans up to kiss him lingeringly and then settles against him.  His arm's going to fall asleep, but he doesn't move.  He's happy just holding her.  He's happy.

[megalony]

I promise

This is a dad! Roger Taylor imagine which is part of my Loving Charlie series, requested by the lovely @bluutac I hope you like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You alright, buddy?" Roger questioned when his eyes clocked onto Danny who was sitting on the floor in front of Charlie's room. His blanket tucked under his arm as he either looked lost or confused. Bending down in front of Danny, Roger watched the four-year-old turn to look at him but he didn't look like he was going to start talking. "Do you wanna see Charlie?" When Roger went to open the door Danny shook his head.

"He shut me out." Danny mumbled quietly, tipping his head down.

It was normal for Danny to head into Charlie's room at night if he couldn't sleep, he liked sitting with his brother and watching tv for a while to try and send himself off to sleep for a bit. But when he knocked on the door tonight and tried to go in Charlie shut the door on him. Danny didn't know what to do so he simply sat down, unsure what he was waiting for until Roger came over.

A sigh passed through Roger's lips as he leaned over and kissed Danny's forehead before picking him up and setting him to his feet.

"Your mum's in bed, go and see her for a bit. I'll have a word with Charlie then come in." Roger watched Danny nod and start to head down the hallway before he got to his feet and knocked on the door. Opening the door, Roger locked his eyes on Charlie who looked like he was in some kind of trance as he watched a movie he had seen ten times over.

Charlie turned his head before frowning at the expression on Roger's face as he leaned against the door.

"Did you shut the door on your brother?" Roger folded his arms over his chest as Charlie huffed before turning around so he was lying on his side with his back was to Roger. Sighing, Roger walked into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. "What's up?" Roger rested his hand on Charlie's arm but he simply shrugged him away.

"I don't like him just wandering in every night, he's annoying." Charle huffed as he pulled the cover tighter over his shoulder, keeping his back to Roger although he did want to turn and look at him. He didn't like Danny wandering in every night, it was a little weird when the four-year-old said completely nothing but still wandered in and laid down to watch tv with him. Charlie wanted to be on his own or with his parents, he didn't want to be around his siblings but Danny seemed to always want to wander in when he couldn't sleep.

"He likes watching tv with you when he can't sleep, you don't have to be rude to him if you want to be on your own." Roger understood if Charlie wanted to watch tv on his own but he shouldn't just slam the door in Danny's face, he could tell him kindly that he wanted to be alone.

"Whatever."

Charlie curled up tighter into the covers when Roger sighed before getting up and leaving the room. He wasn't going to start an argument tonight and he wasn't going to talk to Charlie if he was in that kind of mood, there was little point right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Clapping her hands, Daisy trotted out of her and Danny's shared bedroom before she skipped down the corridor to reach Roger who was walking out of Evie's room who was now settled to sleep for the morning. Roger couldn't bite back a smile as his girl headed over to him, stopping a few inches in front of him before she held her arms out. Twirling around, Daisy seemed to jump from foot to foot with energy simply radiating off of her as she waited for Roger's reaction.

Both twins loved winter because they could wrap up under blankets or wear fuzzy jumpers and warm clothing. Since it was the weekend and they weren't at school they got to wear 'normal' clothes as they called them and Daisy decided to wear her onesie which was designed to look like a sheep.

"Wow, don't you look pretty, Daisychain."

"Look! I have a tail." Turning around, Daisy shook her hips side to side to show the small cottontail that looked like a pompom. Her actions caused Roger to laugh before ruffling the hood on her head as she giggled. Turning around, Daisy jumped up and down, holding her arms out to Roger until he got the hint and picked her up. Holding her to his shoulder as he looked ahead to see Danny walking out of his room.

The other twin was also in a onesie, a smile on his face as he had a small blush on his cheeks looking very happy whereas normally he looked very worried or just neutral. When he walked over to Roger, the drummer leaned down and moved the hood so it was no longer covering Danny's eyes as it was a tiny bit too big. He was wearing a cookie monster onesie that was deep blue and very fluffy. The hood had a few fake cookie crumbs on around the mouth and a few scattered around the front as well.

"A sheep and a cookie monster..." Roger trailed off with a smile, moving his hand to rub up and down Danny's back as he clung to Roger's leg, smiling even if he hadn't said anything yet. The twins liked sharing a room and they shared toys and many of the same interests, but one thing they never shared was clothes or had matching clothes. That was the aspect that showed they liked to be different other than their contrasting personalities as Daisy was energetic and Danny was calm and quiet.

Turning his head, Roger watched Charlie walk out of his room, rubbing at his eyes as he was clearly still tired.

"Aren't you going shopping with mum today?" Roger questioned when Charlie walked over to them. The eldest boy stopped walking and stood beside Roger, taking a moment to think before nodding. Charlie had a thing for drawing and since (Y/n) was going shopping today she said he could get some new pencils and colours if he wanted. "Then go change."

"I'm gonna get a cookie." Danny whispered with a small smile before he let go of Roger and headed over to the stairs. Causing Daisy to wriggle around in Roger's arms in order to follow her twin, deciding she would have a cookie for breakfast if Danny was going to. Roger watched her call for Danny as he set her down before they disappeared out of sight.

"Charlie, I'm serious. Put on a jumper and some other trousers- you need socks on, go." Roger moved his hand to indicate for Charlie to go into his room and get changed but he simply whined, rolling his eyes before he looked down without making an attempt to do as he was told. He couldn't go out wearing a t-shirt and some thin trousers, he needed something warm because it was cold outside.

Reaching his hands out Roger turned Charlie around, holding his shoulders before nudging him to walk back into his room. Watching Charlie slump down on his bed before Roger moved to his chest of drawers and grabbed something else for him to wear.

"What's the point? I live in neutral, I'm fine."

Neutral was the term both parents often used to refer to Charlie because he didn't get hot or cold. He stayed somewhere in the middle so they called it neutral because if he went out in the cold he didn't get goosebumps or start to shiver or his teeth chattering. If he was out in the heat he didn't start to sweat, his blood vessels didn't push to the surface and he didn't feel overheated. He stayed the same no matter what heat he was in because his body couldn't tell the difference between temperatures.

When Charlie had a shower or a bath or washed his hands he hated it because it felt weird. No temperature was just feeling water with no temperature and it wasn't nice.

"You're not immune, Charlie. You go out like that you'll get ill even if you don't realise it and you know we can't have that so change into these or stay home with me and the twins." Charlie wouldn't know when he got ill but he would still be ill, he could get a cold or a virus or an infection and he wouldn't know it and that was dangerous because it could get worse and no one would be any the wiser. Charlie knew they couldn't take risks like that.

Pushing himself to sit up, Charlie stared at Roger who raised his brows in question, wondering why he wasn't getting dressed because he knew Charlie wanted to go out today.

"If you're going out, you either wear this or you can wear your onesie like the twins. Otherwise stay here and wear that." Standing to his feet, Charlie suddenly pushed himself into Roger's chest, his arms winding around his torso as he kept quiet. "What's the matter?" Roger whispered as he ran his hand through Charlie's hair, his other hand rubbing up and down his back.

Charlie was starting to worry him, he never usually seemed to get in such a mood or just hideaway for no reason but he wasn't talking. Charlie waited a moment, inhaling Roger's scent as he felt himself calming down. Finally pulling away, Charlie shook his head before moving to grab the clothes Roger had set out because he did want to go out today.

"Nothing." Roger bit his lip but decided not to push it anymore than this, moving so he could head down and check the twins hadn't raided the cupboards and eaten a packet of biscuits between themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Leaning his head back on the sofa, Roger looked over at (Y/n) who was walking into the living room. Her eyes narrowing when Roger pressed a finger to his lips to signal for her to be quiet when she was about to speak. Moving his hand Roger pointed next to him on the sofa prompting (Y/n) to walk around to see what was happening.

(Y/n)'s eyes widened as a smile spread across her lips at the sight in front of her. Daisy was almost asleep on Roger's left side, curled up against his chest as she looked about ready for her nap. But on Roger's other side Danny was leaning up against the corner of the sofa, his legs crossed beneath him as his head was about to fall. The four-year-old had Evie resting in his lap, his arms very carefully placed around her as he was practically asleep and so was Evie who looked very calm.

Danny had asked Roger if he could hold Evie when she had been fed and Roger obliged, gently settling his youngest into Danny's arms who seemed very content holding her. He couldn't stop smiling until Evie fell asleep and he soon seemed to follow.

Turning around, (Y/n) took Roger's camera from the cupboard so she could take a few photos of them all.

"I think it's nap time." (Y/n) whispered, setting down the camera before kneeling in front of Danny so she could gently take Evie from him. Moving to sit down on the armchair so she could have a cuddle with Evie for a bit. When Danny's head drooped forward Roger quickly leaned over to pick him up, settling him to his shoulder before he stood up.

"Come on Daisychain." Roger whispered, nudging her before he stood up, his eyes rolling when she held her arms out to him instead. Roger huffed as he picked her up, one twin in each arm which was beginning to become a bit of a struggle lately as they were getting older now. Roger would never complain though, he didn't want any of them growing up too fast.

Making his way upstairs, Roger looked down at Daisy who instantly pointed to his and (Y/n)'s room instead of hers and Danny's. Roger rolled his eyes but followed her silent order, letting her tiredly move from his arms to the bed so she could burrow under the covers. Her eyes drooping though she tried to focus on Roger who eased Danny down and pulled the covers over them both. Deciding to leave the curtains half-open like they were before he leaned over and kissed them both before leaving the room. Knowing he didn't have to stay and wait for Daisy to fall asleep because she was close already.

"Dad..." Charlie's voice was unusually quiet as he walked out of the bathroom, his head turning down as he held his arm out.

Frowning, Roger walked down the hallway to where his eldest was standing, carefully holding Charlie's arm as he looked up at Roger, waiting for him to say something.

"Hell, Charlie what have you done?" Roger's voice wasn't stern or angry, it was concerned and slightly panicked as he kept his eyes on his son's arm. There were scratch marks in the middle of his pale arm which were blistering up flaming red and pearl white. Lifting his head, Roger kissed Charlie's temple before guiding him back into his room where he had the burn cream and bandages.

"I... I started scratching and then it wouldn't stop bleeding so I ran it under the tap..." Sitting down on his bed, Charlie kept his arm out to Roger who rested his arm on his leg as he leaned over to grab the bandages and cream from the side table drawer.

"You put your arm under the hot tap." Roger commented more than questioned, earning a nod in response causing Roger to sigh. Charlie knew which tap was for hot water and which was for cold, he had lived here all his life to know which one to use without thinking about it. "Did you do this on purpose?" Roger kept his words light as he let go of Charlie's arm, looking at his son whose eyes went wide at the question.

"No! I- I didn't think I just-"

"That tap takes a while to get hot and you've blistered your arm, Charlie. So either you had your eyes closed, you did this on purpose or you noticed and didn't do anything. Which is it?"

All the taps in the house took a little while to get from cold to warm and then to very hot water. If Charlie didn't realise which tap he had turned on he would have noticed when his arm started to blister and there was steam coming from the water. So either he wasn't looking at his arm which Roger highly doubted, he possibly did this on purpose maybe as some kind of punishment or for attention. Or he didn't mean to at first but then didn't pull his arm away or turn the tap off because his arm was blistering badly.

"I didn't mean to but then I just... left it running for a few seconds more." Charlie didn't dare look up at Roger but he felt himself calming down when Roger took hold of his arm again, slowly beginning to put the cream onto his burning skin.

"Why?" Inspecting his arm, Roger knew it would be fine within a few days or so but it looked like it would leave a scar or two. Grabbing the half-used roll of bandages beside him, Roger lifted Charlie's arm a little higher so he could start winding the bandage around his skinny arm.

"This." Charlie whispered the word back but he knew it wouldn't be enough of an explination. Roger looked up at him, wondering if he was going to show him something or point to something but Charlie seemed to wish Roger would just understand and drop the subject instantly. He was ashamed that he'd let his arm burn under the water but he wanted to. Looking to his arm, Charlie drifted his eyes between the bandage being rolled around his burns and Roger until his dad got the silent message.

If Charlie fell over, got burnt, had a temperature, anything at all his parents would keep checking on him or tending to his cuts and bruises and he liked it because they weren't fussing over Evie or the twins. They were asking if he was alright, sitting with him and hugging him and him alone.

When Charlie got hurt they would fuss and it gave him their attention that he was so desperate to have that he had to share with his siblings now.

"Charlie..." Roger sighed as he put the roll of bandages and the cream back in the drawer, rubbing at his eyes as he thought about what to say. This wasn't how things went, he couldn't do that or think that way. "That's not okay-" Roger didn't want to shout or make Charlie feel bad, he just wanted to tell him that he couldn't think that if he felt bad or he wanted Roger or (Y/n) to himself he should get hurt to grab their attention.

"I know, but I didn't- it wasn't on purpose a-at first... you and mum spend ages trying to get Danny to talk, if Daisy runs and falls or gets stomach ache you run to her and Evie's a baby. When I get a burn or a temperature you come and sit with me without running off to the twins." Shuffling forward, Charlie buried himself into Roger who wrapped his arms around him, trying to think of what to say. He could hardly be angry at Charlie for wanting more time with either parent even if he was going about it in the wrong way.

"I'm heading down to the studio tomorrow to work with the boys, want to come with? Just you and me and the band? You can play the drums with me."

Roger knew the band weren't planning on recording much tomorrow, they left the tape on and sometimes a camera here and there to record ideas and conversations but they weren't recording any tracks yet. It was the perfect time to bring Charlie down especially since he was really taking to drum lessons.

"Just us?" Charlie questioned quietly, his arms tightening that little bit more around Roger who hummed in response.

"Just us... if you promise you won't do this again." Roger rubbed his hand up and down Charlie's back as he felt Charlie rapidly nodding against him. He wouldn't do it again because he knew the moment he saw his arm blistering that it was a bad move not to pull away. But he had no reflex for things like that due to no pain so he could have his arm blistered away and not move an inch. That made it easier to just watch. He wouldn't dare do that again because Roger just promised him a day for the pair of them were he didn't have to fight the twins away for attention or get mad when Evie needed attending to.

"I promise."

[musesxbleed]

Final Words

Kreacher isn’t handling this very well. He continues to twist his gown with his tiny hands begging for me to stop. He still holds the bruises left from the Dark Lord after taking the beating of the locket. He doesn’t understand why I sit here with my limbs going numb, trying to get the next bowl. I think I need to ask him to get me the rest. I can barely lift my head to do so any longer. 

Sirius… Where did we go wrong? No, I shall rephrase that. Where did I go wrong? 

You have your whole life ahead of you. You can do so much with your days and no one will bat an eye. I know you tried to stay with me. I’m so happy that you came back to me for what time we had. But you deserve better. You deserve to live. I don’t. Not after the oaths I have taken for a madman that cannot die. 

I wish you had taken me with you that night when you ran. Instead of leaving me to curl around the sheets to wake up to an empty room without you. Mum and dad were so angry when they realized that you weren’t coming back. They didn’t even realize the pain I had suffered for the weeks to come until school. It was the most tears I had ever shed in my life. My brother; gone. 

I’ve forced Kreacher to go get me another bowl. He’s shaking like a leaf so terribly I fear he will spill it and shall have to go get another. This needs to get done or else all hope shall be lost. If I can do this one thing then maybe everyone may have a fighting chance against him and he may be defeated. 

This tastes utterly horrid. I’ve never tasted something so bad before. Remember that time you tricked me into a dog biscuit? I almost tossed it back up all over you. This is so much worse. I can’t even begin to describe. My mouth tastes parched no matter how much I drink. I’m trying to leave my stomach for this rather than take from the lake. 

I’m going to die tonight. Will you feel it when I do? Or will you not understand until Kreacher has told our family? I hope that you will know. I hope our bond is strong enough that you can sense something of this magnitude. 

Do not be mistaken. I grieve that I’m leaving you in such a life without me. 

I wish you had chosen me. 

Oh Remus. You best take care of my Sirius. Protect my stars and make sure nothing comes to harm him. I swear I will haunt you if you dare let a hair fall out of place on his head. 

I wish I could give you a last night as you once had done for me. I understand why you had done it now. To give you that last moment of peace and to see that smile on your face so calm would be my dying wish. I would have feared I’d make matters worse and burst, telling you the truth. You would be the one here rather than me. Saving the day as you always do even when you have been trying so hard to make our parents proud. 

For my sake, be the lion boy I know you to be again. Stop playing this game. Be the better brother that we all know you are. 

It’s gone. Oh god, Kreacher said it’s all gone now. And there it is. He flinched when I tried to hand it to him but he was willing enough to make the exchange. The Dark Lord will never know. He will believe it to be safe while the Family Black will protect a piece of his life until it is time to destroy him proper. There has to be someone to take him down. Dumbledore, anyone. 

I wish there was a hole in the ceiling of this cave. Instead all I can do is stare up into darkness and feel the weight of the mountain looming over me. He could have it rigged that once the locket is out of the cave, the rocks could come down on top of me. I haven’t a clue what could possibly happen. 

I’m so thirsty, Sirius. I’m so tired. I can’t stand and I can’t move. I have spent the last hour begging for Kreacher to go. He will know what to do with the locket and I know that he will protect it with his life. I don’t know what I would do if he was dead. He’s a right shit sometimes but he’s the closest thing I’ve had to a best mate aside from you. The only other that knew my secrets and thoughts, my worries and dreams. He’ll keep the locket safe. Promise me he won’t get hurt. He’s gone through enough. 

He’s halfway already across the lake. The small boat is moving swiftly and you can’t even see a ripple, Sirius. I feel so alone. 

I wish you would show. That you’d save me and fly me away back home with you. 

But you won’t. 

Because I’m going to die. 

Do you know when I realized that I love you? It was when I was fourteen. I was so young and naive back then. You crawled into bed when I was having a nightmare. Do you remember? I told you that it was of the mice taking over the dormitory and there was no way out of the dungeons. You said to not be so silly and I could break a window so they’d all drown from the lake water. It had me laughing. It wasn’t what I dreamt of. I dreamt of you dying. That I held your head down under the lake water at school and drowned you. I watched as you stared at me in shock and betrayal. I felt you shudder under the weight of my body when I knew that you could push me off with your own. But in my dream you didn’t. You let me win for once as I killed you. I refused to let you out of my grip all night and for the next three days I didn’t let you out of my sight. You said to stop following you like a puppy so I snapped back that you were the only bitch in the family. 

I hope in death I will always remember our moments. I hope to remember the way you felt beside me and the way you sounded. 

I think I can manage to get up to go to the shoreline. The water looks so beautiful and cool. I just need a drink to gather my strength. Maybe I can summon the boat so my body may be found. This potion is sure to be poisoned and my time here is ticking down to the seconds. 

They lurked and slumbered, undisturbed under the surface. The ripples set off an alarm, eyes snapping open to undead eyes unseeing. They rose, they rose. And they went after what had awoken them.

I didn’t see them coming. Fuck, how could I have been so stupid. 

Bodies thrashed, screeches filled the air, resounding from the walls of the hollow cave. The small cries of a boy who thought he could be a martyr would go unheard. 

The water is filling my lungs. It burns. It hurts. They’re tearing in my skin and I can’t find my way back up to the surface. 

Oh god. I don’t want to die. 

Sirius, I’m scared. I’m so scared. I want to come home. I want to wake up. Please, help me wake up! 

The last thing I said to you. I was a fool. I should have told you how much I love you. I shouldn’t have let it stay hidden, letting Remus win the fight. I hope you know I will always love you. 

I can’t breathe anymore. All I can taste is blood and all I can feel is bone. Will I become one of them now as well? I don’t want to be a thing of nightmares. 

I want to be what you dream of every night until I see you again. 

I’m so sorry, Sirius. 

Please know. Know that my last thought was of you.

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

for @poppy27 Number 18 and two more that seemed to fit!

18: How good would your OTP be at parenting?

26: Which one gets more excited over the first snow of winter?

16: Who makes the other hot chocolate?

Simon

It’s our second day in Hampshire. The sky looked like it wanted to snow all day yesterday but it finally came down overnight. I pull open the curtains in Baz’s room and the whole countryside is transformed—white and soft and shimmering in the morning sunlight.

 “Baz! It finally snowed!”

Cool arms circle my waist and Baz rests his chin on my shoulder. “I should expect you’ll be out in it all day then?” His lips brushing my ear make me shiver. Not because I’m cold.

I lean my head into him. “It is the first snow of the year.”

Baz 

It got colder overnight. I haven’t bothered to build up the fire yet. I far prefer Simon’s warmth. I’m wrapped around him, soaking up the heat that’s radiating from his skin. 

That never changed, after he lost his magic. He doesn’t have that smoky, green scent anymore. But he kept the heat.I’m grateful for it and not because it warms me when I touch him. I’m thankful because it’s always been part of Simon and it’s something that wasn’t taken away, when he poured his magic into the Humdrum.

I miss Simon’s magic. Not as much as he does, of course. No one could ever miss it as much as Simon does. 

He’s coping. He’s managing to live his life without it.

There are times I think I can feel it. It’s probably my imagination, my wanting to sense it again.But I swear to Merlin there are moments when I catch the faint scent of his magic or feel the distant thrum of it when I touch him. I know that scent. I know that magic.

I know what it felt like coursing through me, overpowering my senses, making me drunk with the overwhelming power of it. Making me warm. Making me not feel so alone.

Making me feel so connected to Simon. 

It took my breath away.

We don’t talk about it much anymore, the loss of it. I don’t want him to get his hopes up. I don’t want to get my hopes up. The magic is coming back to the holes. It’s been coming back slowly for months now. Little by little. Filling the places that were lost. It started here, actually. Professor Bunce thinks it’s because this was one of the last places the Humdrum attacked. The later holes are the ones that are filling up the quickest. The early ones are still void of magic.

My family moved back here a few months ago. It’s nearly back to what it was before, just a few small dead spots in the woods. I walked through one the night we arrived, when I was hunting. Makes me shudder to think of it.

To think back.

I wasn’t sure if we should come. Father wanted us here for Christmas. The whole family did. We haven’t been here since that Christmas. We’ve visited my family in Oxford, at my father’s  London flat, vacationed with them in France. But this is the first time we’ve visited Hampshire since they moved back into Pitch Manor.

 I wasn’t sure how Simon would feel about coming back but he’s been absolutely enthusiastic about it.

Not about the wraiths or the gargoyles on my bed, mind you. He’s still prejudiced against them. 

It’s been comforting for him to hear that the holes are filling in, I think. Simon has taken on a lot of guilt for occurrences that were beyond his control. He’s felt responsible for the holes. For my family having to move. For magic being lost.

It’s made me think about Simon getting his magic back. I can’t talk to him about it. I can’t let him think it might be possible. I can’t let him hope.

I can’t let myself hope.

But logically if the magic is coming back to the holes then there should be the possibility of it coming back to Simon. Professor Bunce agrees with me. We’ve talked about it, those times when we visit and Simon is occupied catching up with Bunce and her numerous siblings. He’s cautious but hopeful.

I’ve tried to push my magic into Simon. Like he used to share his with me.

It doesn’t work. I can push it to him but it doesn’t last. It lets him feel it for a moment, maybe cast a single simple spell but then it’s gone. Having it for a moment and losing it again is almost worse than not having it at all. 

I don’t do that anymore.

Simon shifts in my arms, turning to face me. He’s frowning.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking, Baz.”

“How do you know I’m thinking anything? I’m just trying to get warm. The fire’s gone out again.”

“I know you, you absolute wanker. I know that look. Whatever it is you’re obsessing about just stop.”

“I’m not the obsessive one.”

“Isn’t that a laugh.” Simon grins up at me. “You know me better than I know myself sometimes, Baz.” He pulls me closer and his lips brush over mine. “Stop it. We’re having a snow day and you’re going to enjoy yourself, if I have to make you myself.”

I lose myself in his lips, pulling back reluctantly to rest my forehead on his.“Must I go out in the snow?”

“You know the little ‘uns will love it. You don’t have to spend all day outside.”

“You’re going to make me frolic in the snow, Simon. I don’t do that. Pitches don’t frolic.”

“Rubbish. No one’s asking you to frolic. Build a snowman or snowwraith or something with Mordelia. Pelt the twins with a snowball or two. Take Magnus down the hill once.” Simon cups my face with his hands. “Then you can come inside and curl up by the fire with a book.”

“I’d rather curl up with you. You’re warmer than the fire.”

“Is that all I am to you? A personal heater?” There’s a smirk on Simon’s face now.

“It is convenient.” I can’t keep from smiling back at him.

“Who’s going to entertain the little ‘uns if I’m keeping you warm inside?”

“They’re old enough to entertain themselves. I certainly managed, at their age.”

“Yes, but you’re an anomaly.” Simon kisses me on the nose. “Now come on, Baz. We’ve got fresh snow and sun and four little people who need to get out of the house!”

I build a snowman with Mordelia. Ophelia and Acantha end up pelting me with snowballs. Magnus won’t go sliding down the hill unless he is on my lap.

I make snow angels with Simon and kiss his flushed face until Mordelia kicks me in the shin and tells me to stop snogging.

She seems to think because she’s just turned ten she’s some kind of monitor now.

I leave Simon to the not-so-tender mercies of my younger siblings and head inside. I don’t curl up by the fire with a book. I stand at the window and watch Simon.

He’s a natural with children. He gets down on the floor and rolls around with Magnus. He listens carefully when Mordelia or the twins tell him stories and fancies. He asks questions about their nonsense and encourages them to tell him more.

He laughs at Ophelia’s jokes and Acantha’s terrible puns.

I don’t know where Acantha gets her penchant for puns. The twins are far too precocious for seven year olds. Almost as bad as Mordelia.

Simon’s chasing them all in the snow now, pelting them with snowballs. They make a unified attack and take him down, Magnus clutching at Simon’s leg. He’s covered with snow and trying to shove all four of them off. 

Simon looks glorious.

I drink in the sight of him for another moment.

Then I head to the kitchen to tell Vera to expect a snowy maelstrom of children at any minute.

I’ll start making the hot chocolate.

Simon 

My fingers are numb by the time we all get back inside. Magnus is shivering, poor little blighter, and the girls’ hair is all crusted with snow. 

Ophelia lost her hat somewhere out there. Acantha is missing a mitten. I’ll have to send Baz out to magic them up later.

We tromp into the kitchen, trailing snow across the pristine floor. Vera’s eyes widen at the sight of us mucking up the space but Baz reaches us first. 

He spells the mess on the floor away and then proceeds to speedily get his siblings out of their snow gear. He’s fast and efficient and tender all at the same time.

Baz doesn’t realize how he is with the little ‘uns. He snaps at Mordelia, yeah (she has no concept of privacy) (he’s had to spell the door of his room shut) (she’s almost walked in on us) (thank Merlin for vampire hearing.)

But he’s softer than he admits. He’ll spend hours in the library reading them stories or telling them tales he just makes up on the spot. They want Baz for bedtime stories, when he’s home. And even though it takes hours to get all four of them down he still does it. Every time.

Magnus follows him around like a little shadow. Mordelia is the only one who’s managed to get the eyebrow raise right. Doesn’t stop the rest from trying. Makes me laugh, it does.

Makes me think sometimes. Think of what he’d be like. As a father.

Then I make myself stop thinking about it because it scares me.

Because I don’t know how to do that.

 I’m terrible at so many things. I’d probably be awful at that too.

And I don’t want to be awful at it. 

Because it should mean something, to be a parent. 

And I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

“Stop it.” Baz hands me a cup of hot chocolate.

“Stop what?”

Baz’s arm slides around my waist. “Stop thinking. Your brow is all furrowed. You’re going to scare the children.” He kisses my temple.

“I never scare the children. They think I’m a git.”

He pulls me closer. “You know they don’t think you’re a git. They love you more than me, I think. You’re far more congenial.”

“That I am. Not hard to manage that though. You’re piss poor competition for congeniality.” Baz bumps his hip into mine, nearly upsetting my hot chocolate. I drink some, to keep from spilling it.

The children are all seated at the table, hot chocolate and biscuits monopolizing their attention. I rest my head on Baz’s shoulder. “I’m glad we came. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss this.”

Baz

“I know.” I wouldn’t have wanted to miss it either. 

Watching Simon with the children makes me think. Think of what it would be like.

If we had our own.

[shireness-says]

Merry Christmas to All

Summary:  Christmas has become An Event in the Swan-Jones household. ~2.2K. Rated G. Also on AO3.

A/N: Here, have another wildly unseasonal piece, transferred from AO3 in honor of the Fandom Crescendo! Pretty much no plot - just a lot of fluffy family feels. At Christmas. What more could you want? Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

“Psst.”

The little whisper isn’t really a shock. Over the past couple years, Killian has grown very accustomed to the noise. In reality, he’s been only dozing for perhaps the past twenty minutes, enjoying a few more minutes in the sole company of his lovely wife before the chaos the day will undoubtedly bring. However, his morning visitor doesn’t need to know that he would have been up in the next half hour, regardless. Half the fun – for both of them – is pretending to still be asleep.

“Psst. Papa. Papa, wake up.”

Even after over four and a half years, the title still brings a smile to his face, and he can’t help but turn his head to see blue eyes and bouncing energy.

It had been a bit of a wait to be blessed with their own child, but Amelia Alice Jones is worth every moment. She’s a happy, cheerful child, curious about absolutely everything, with his eyes and hair in a red-brown shade Killian thought only existed in storybooks. In short, she’s perfect.

Emma’s still sleeping – it had been a bit of a long night in the Swan-Jones household – but thankfully, Amelia has the good common sense to whisper. Brilliant little lass. “Papa, you’ve got to get up, it’s Christmas!”

As if he could forget.

Christmas has been a bit of an event ever since he and Emma got married. Things had properly settled down in Storybrooke not long after their nuptials – the occasional disturbance at most, no more of this ‘villian of the week’ nonsense – and Christmas had been one of the first holidays their little family had cause to celebrate. Emma and Henry had gone all out to introduce him to the holiday, with peppermint everything and eggnog and weeks of Christmas movie marathons, a fire roaring in the fireplace and a beautifully decorated tree in the corner. Christmas morning, Henry and Emma had teamed up to jump on him, screeching about Christmas, so his wakeup call this morning is sedate in comparison. All the same, he treasures the memories of that first holiday.

Subsequent holidays had been somewhat tamer – always with a family lunch at the Nolan’s farmhouse, some years spending the morning with Henry, some years not. After Henry had embarked on his quest to find his own story, holidays were somewhat sadder, Emma (okay, Killian too) nostalgic for the afternoons curled up on the couch with Henry, watching the snow fall. Their ever-unsuccessful efforts to start their own family only added to the vague melancholy, especially as Emma’s parents continued to reproduce like rabbits – Emma now the proud older sister to four siblings. Thankfully, by the time Regina joined Henry, they were finally expecting a little one of their own, the excitement and preparations somewhat tempering any sorrow Emma might have felt about losing her friend and confidant. Regina and Emma may have had a rough start, but the two women not only reached an understanding, but developed a close friendship over the years.

Christmas may have always been special, but everything changes when Amelia arrives. She’s a mere seven months old that first Christmas, not nearly old enough to remember anything, but Killian and Emma act like a pair of fools, buying her far more toys than any infant more interested in the paper ever needs. Last year was the first Christmas they knew she might actually remember, and so they had gone all out all over again. Hopefully, Amelia will have lovely memories of making cookies and ice skating and opening presents with Mama and Papa that will last her for years.

Transported back to the present by an insistent tug on his sleeve, he flashes a grin at his daughter and swings his legs out of bed, careful not to wake Emma. Resting his stump on Amelia’s back, he motions for her to keep quiet as they make their way out into the hallway and shut the door again.

“Let’s let Mama sleep a bit longer, okay darling?”

She nods, very serious. Oh, his precious little lass.

“Shall we make her some breakfast for when she wakes up?”

Well, that gets her attention, as Amelia scampers for the stairs in an auburn blur of flying curls, making him chuckle.

He’ll meet her in the kitchen soon enough – he’s got another stop to make first.

———

Killian practically inches open the door to the small, green corner room before noticing its inhabitant is already awake, if still quiet.

After so much struggle to conceive Amelia, Killian and Emma had assumed their daughter would be the only child they’d raise from birth, the only sibling Henry would have. But four and a half years and a very careless Valentine’s Day later, he and Emma became parents again – this time to a little boy, their little Dash. Well, Dashiell. Dashiell Liam. A tiny, precious bundle now a full nine weeks old.

It’s been a little bit of an adjustment period with Dash, in the best of ways. Amelia had been a whirlwind since the day she was born – loud and determined to be the center of attention, and Gods help the man or woman who didn’t grant her their full and prompt attention. Dash, in contrast, is a quieter little lad – Amelia’s piercing wails traded for his less noisy whimpers, like he’s set on being polite or some such idea. Of course, with the full practice of a father to now two young children, Killian wakes to any noise from the baby monitor anyhow, as does Emma. He’d forgotten, truly, how tricky sleeping with a newborn is, now that Amelia (mostly) sleeps through the night, but now he’s up again every few hours because Dash is hungry or needs a change or just wants a little company.

Right now, though, Dash seems perfectly happy just to pedal his arms and legs in his seasonal, candy striped onesie, distracted by the colorful mobile above his bassinet. Soon enough, though, as Killian bends over the crib to scoop his little lad up, he’s treated to a genuine smile from Dash as he sees his Papa. The smiles only started last week – an early Christmas gift, Emma had told Killian – and Killian is still reveling in every toothless grin.

“Hello, laddie, are you ready for Christmas?”

Dash just continues to smile. He’ll take that as a yes.

“Well I think your big sister is downstairs, ready to make Mama a proper feast. Shall we go see her?”

He gets a happy sounding gurgle and grab for his nose in response. Another yes, surely.

“Alright, let’s go see sissy.”

Sure enough, Amelia has pulled out half the refrigerator to cook. Those frozen biscuits she likes so much, bacon, a nearly empty bag of hash browns (he thinks there’s another in the fridge – otherwise he may be dealing with a very disappointed pre-schooler), the box of frozen waffles, a can of cinnamon rolls… the eggs are still in the fridge, but Killian suspects that’s only because his daughter still couldn’t reach them, even with her little kitchen stool. He chuckles at her haul, before quickly moving in to limit her picks.

“I know you’re excited, little love, but we can’t eat all of this. Pick only a few things, please.”

She settles for hash browns, biscuits, and bacon, happily putting the rest back into the fridge as Killian settles Dash into the baby swing he’s only just grown into.

By the time Emma sleepily stumbles down the stairs, yawning all the while, breakfast is almost ready – the bacon already out of the microwave, the hash browns just flipped over, and the biscuits coming out of the oven in the next few minutes. She presses a quick kiss to his lips as Amelia barrels over, shrieking at the top of her lungs, “Merry Christmas, Mama!”

“Merry Christmas, Duckling!” Emma cheers back, before leaning over to whisper in his ear. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

He barely has a chance to kiss her again before she’s moving to the swing, where Dash has perked up again at hearing his mother’s voice. Killian is well aware that this may be their last relatively quiet moment of the day before chaos descends, but he almost doesn’t care. Christmas is always an event, but this year will be particularly special, since it’s the first Henry – and his family – will spend with them since his return from his time cursed in Washington.

Emma had been ecstatic at the return of her son – though how many of those tears were the result of hormones is anyone’s guess. Killian had been smacked for even suggesting it. Regardless, Henry is thrilled with his siblings, Emma is besotted with Lucy (“God, Killian, I’m way too young to be grandmother to a kid that old. Is this how my mother feels?”), and everyone even admits that it’s nice to have Regina back in town. Granted, it’s still a relief that the other him elected to stay behind in Hyperion Heights, endeavoring to bring order to a town only newly aware of their formerly cursed state. Killian isn’t sure he’s nearly awake enough these past days to have been able to keep track of conversation had there been two Killians running around.

Killian may be looking forward to a holiday with his stepson, but it’s Amelia who’s truly thrilled. She’s come up with all kinds of plans, seemingly determined to fit an entire year’s worth of activities into a single day. To his amusement, she’s detailing all her plans of what she and Henry and Ella and Lucy are going to do for what must be the tenth time to Emma. Thank the gods that Henry’s wife and daughter are just as good of sports and Henry is.

“…and then, after the snowball fight, we’ll have hot chocolate, and Grandma can help us make cookies, and maybe then you and Auntie Regina can make an ice rink! And then I wanna show Lucy Rudolph cus she’s never seen it, Henry says…” She’s barely taken a bite in her excitement, and while part of him wants to just sit and listen to her babble on, Killian is still very well aware of the absurd schedule his mother-in-law will undoubtedly demand they stick to religiously. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and while they may have opened all the gifts last night, he’s still got something up his sleeve.

“Melly, darling, if you hurry up and eat your breakfast, I think I might have seem something in your stocking…”

Emma and he had decided that first Christmas with Amelia that they were going to try not to play up the Santa Claus thing. Emma doesn’t have particularly fond memories of the practice, and with their luck, Santa would turn out to be real, and some kind of villain who’d turn up in the future to terrorize the town. No, better just to leave a few candies and small things in the stockings, and make a big deal out of all the family traditions instead.

Still, the promise of stocking gifts is enough to get Amelia gobbling down her breakfast and bouncing in her seat as she’s now forced to wait for her parents to finish. When they’re finally done, Killian is practically dragged into the living room by his small daughter, leaving a chuckling Emma to gather up Dash and meet them by the tree.

As Amelia tears into her stocking – just some candy from them and a couple of ornaments for the small tree in her room – Emma leans into his side with the baby, allowing him to drape his arm around her shoulders. “Thank you for letting me sleep,” she murmurs, and he smiles back at her.

“Of course, love, you deserved a little extra time.”

“All the same… thanks. I think we forgot how tiring the first few weeks are. Can that be my Christmas gift this year? An extra hour of sleep for the next few days? Can someone set that up? Oh! Maybe Mom and Dad will babysit!”

Truthfully, Killian could go for an afternoon to themselves as well, albeit perhaps with some extra activities. He’s a father twice over – he knows what the six-week checkup meant, even if they haven’t been able to act on it yet. And then sleep. Several hours of sleep. Probably not all night, since the Charmings have four kids under nine in the house and Snow’s been talking about another, but Gods above, even just an afternoon of uninterrupted sleep would be a dream come true.

He presses a kiss to her forehead and holds a little tighter before replying. “Aye, Swan, that would be lovely. Perhaps they’ll offer today when we go over.”

Across the room, Amelia is giddy with her haul. “Look, Papa, it’s a little pirate ship for my tree! Like the Jolly, Papa!”

Soon enough, they’ll have to leave, have to drive to the Nolan farmhouse before Snow blows some sort of Christmas stress induced gasket. But for now, he’s content to snuggle with his wife and son on the couch as his daughter tells them in great detail about each and every thing she’s found in her stocking.

Merry Christmas, one and all.

[elenatria]

Hiddlesworth Valentines’ day

http://archiveofourown.org/works/13707372

“Hey, Tom…”

The deep raspy voice was followed bya momentary, thoughtful pause from the other end of the line.

“Who is th- oh Chris, hi, how areyou, man?”

“Who is this?” Chris scoffed. “Did you delete my phone number, mate?”

“Oh no,” Tom was quick to reply withthat familiar awkward laughter, “it’s-it’s this stupid thing really, I bought anew phone and didn’t have the time to transfer all my contacts, you know, justthe important ones.”

“Just the important ones?…”

“The – c’mon, Chris, you know what Imean, the ones I know by heart, my parents, my sisters, you know.”

“I’m teasing you, mate, take iteasy,” Chris chuckled like it wasn’t a big thing, like it hadn’t been monthssince they last spoke. “I just thought I’d call you, see how you’ve been.”

“I’m… good,” Tom said scratching wearilyhis brow as he peered through the window at Corby, the black-featheredneighbour who was the first to pay his respects when the actor moved in hisapartment in Camden, and who was now pecking at the crumbs of hardened breadand rusks Tom had left outside the window in a small chipped cup.

“Corby and Bobby”, “The Crow and theCocker Spaniel”, “The Black Brothers”. They could be a comedy duo, Tom hadthought when he was searching for a name for the little feathery fellow, or theycould be comic strip characters like Garfield and Oggy, Sylvester and Tweety. Therewere times when he was tempted to pick up the phone, dial the number, talkabout anything really, the weather,the new book he was reading, the swims and the barbecues and the snakes in theyard and in the bedroom and the boomerangs on the wall and the starry Pacificnights. Instead he would always hang up before pressing a single number,distracted by Corby pecking at the glass demanding his daily dose of brokenbiscuits or by Bobby wagging his tail with a ball in his mouth, always eager toplay when his human was finally home. His human was almost never home and whenhe was, Bobby would certainly not let him waste his precious playing time withlong pauses over that talking cabled contraption. After all it was easier forTom to hang up and give Bobby belly rubs until the impulse to make that callwas gone. If anything, Bobby was a good listener.

Besides Tom always felt like therewas nothing to talk about really. People everywhere were so eager to listen towhat he had to say, and he would talk and talk and the mesmerized crowds wouldbe hanging from his lips at every interview, every performance, every Q&A.Everyone would prick up their ears at his wisdom and charisma; everyone but hissisters who knew the real Tom and were too used to his charm. And Chris. Chriswould listen for a while but when Tom started ranting he would cut him short.

“You’re talking too much, mate.”

Or dancing too much, or singing toomuch. Tom would indulge in his spontaneous displays of enthusiasm and Chriswould always be there to contain him, keep him grounded. When there were peoplewatching Chris would laugh and turn the other way, or tease him in front ofeveryone. When they were alone he would mock him with relentless passion untilTom blushed or pouted, or both. And if Tom was determined to not stop no matterwhat, Chris would resort to shutting him up by throwing him pillows. It was pillowfights or long breathtaking kissing sessions. Kisses always worked like a charm- it was an axiom. It was only then that Tom would close his eyes and enjoy thesilence. And silence, in Chris’ arms, on the sofa, on the bed, on the floor,was a warm sea of deep sighs that came and went like murmuring waves. The peacewould be broken only by deep desperate grunts and long ecstatic cries, untilthere was silence again.

“I’m good.” Tom was thinking ofthings to say when Bobby came to him, nuzzling his foot. “Just finishing mybook. Sorry, I was distracted.”

“A book? You thinking about turningit into a movie?”

“Don’t know yet. Look, it’s just abook I’m reading, it’s nothing.” Chris wouldn’t understand anyway. Chris didn’tread books.

Tom heard him sigh and he realizedthat he sounded harsh and dismissive, and it was even worse because there was atime when he wasn’t like that; there was a time when he would try, a time when tryingmeant caring. He had begged Chris more than once to at least take a look at oneof the books he recommended him, and sometimes they’d bicker about it untilmorning.

And then one day Tom stopped trying.Gradually they both did.

“Look, Tom, I just wanted tocongratulate you on your Golden Globe, and I meant to call you on your birthdaytoo, I know it was almost a week ago, I just reckoned you were busy, I was busytoo, yeah-”

“It’s ok, Chris, it’s all good,” Tominterrupted him as that bitter feeling began to well up in his stomach again. Heglanced at Corby, but Corby was finishing his lunch and was about to fly away.

“No it’s not… It’s so not. I totallywish I had called you after you got the Globe, I mean-“

“It’s ok, Chris, it’s not like itwas that important. I mean it was, it’simportant for my work but… yeah. I kind of regret it now.”

“Tom, don’t listen to thoseblockheads, forget about them, what do they know.”

“No, look, I shouldn’t have talkedthat much, they were right. I was just nervous.”

Chris didn’t answer, and severalseconds passed before he could find the right words; words that were doingtheir best not to hurt, not to judge.

His voice came out hoarse andbroken. “You felt the need to apologize. You should never feel the need toapologize, Tom… Not for the bloody speech, not for the tank top, not foranything.”

Now it was Tom’s turn to be silent;the knot in his stomach was making it hard to speak.

“So you read the interview,” hemuttered.

“Yeah, it was out today. I don’teven know why you agreed to answer those questions, GQ is getting worse thanDaily Mail these days.”

Tom blinked slowly as Bobby keptrubbing his head on his leg, whimpering softly.

“I just thought people should know,”he said.

“Don’t feed those cannibals, mate.”

“It’s all good,” Tom shrugged. “Atleast I said what I wanted to say.”

“Do you think people will listen?”

“Did you ever listen?”

Tom knew it was an unfair blow, andthe words came out wrong, like they always did. No matter how hard he tried inhis life to be polite there were times when he couldn’t fight the bitternessand the snark. Chris didn’t deserve this, but there it was.

“I’m listening now…” came the softslurring response. “I know you probably don’t want to talk. I know you’reprobably done talking, done explaining things to yourself, to me, to others. Ijust wish I was there, that’s all. When it counted. I wish the whole world wasone continent, one neighbourhood. And I wish we were still cooking culinarymasterpieces together and drank wine all night long.”

“It’s ok, Chris,” Tom said and hiseyes were stinging. “It’s ok. We all change, it’s the one truth that holds theuniverse together.”

Chris sighed again, and Tom couldhear his shaking breath.

“Go out, tonight, ok, mate?” Christried to sound cheerful but his voice was choked. “Go out and buy teddy bearsand heart-shaped chocolate boxes and drink and dance your heart out, I sure won’tbe there to judge you, I mean you’re an incredible dancer, Tom, an incredibledancer, you’re fucking incredible, you know that, and I always- I always wantedto… I always-“

Tom didn’t know what to say; helistened hard but now there was nothing to hear but his own heavy breathing andthe soft whisper of silent sobbing from the other end of the line. Then therewas nothing.

When Chris finally managed to speakagain Bobby had grown tired of Tom’s unresponsive foot and had curled up in hisbasket, too sleepy and tired to chase his human anymore. Tom fumbled for thetissue box on the table in front of him staring out of the window at the emptycup where Corby was standing just a few minutes ago. He regretted not noticinghim when he decided to fly away, he was too busy wiping his cheeks with theback of his hand.

He was always too busy to noticesuch things.

“Go out, ok?” Chris urged him, nowcomposed. “Go out.”

“I will,” Tom reassured him andwiped his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Tom.”

Tom smiled and closed his eyes. Hehad promised not to cry again but there he was, breaking that promise after allthose months.

“Happy Valentine’s day to you too,”he said, hoping that he’d open his eyes and Corby would be back on the ledge.“Talk to you soon.”

[l0vegl0wsinthedark]

What Comes After

Contrary to how everyone seemed to believe it happened, Draco didn’t wake up with a gasp loud enough to ring around the room. He didn’t shoot up in bed and didn’t look around in wild shock.

He woke slowly, with utmost difficulty, his mind shrieking with the effort of throwing off the cruelly vivid images that still flashed by in quick succession. It was almost as if the nightmares sunk their claws in deeper, with sadistic relish, once he became aware of them, trying desperately to tug him in deeper as he valiantly waded through the almost unyielding, tar-like puddle his subconscious was seeped in.

And when he finally did regain full consciousness, his eyes would open slowly, still heavy with slumber, and still fighting off the last vestiges of that night’s agonisingly terrifying ephialtes. 

He found himself on his side, curled up with one hand under his cheek, the other jammed between his knees. He was damp with sweat; his thin nightwear stuck to his skin. And yet, he was shivering as if he’d just come in from a snow storm. His heart thundered in his chest and he could feel the panic pumping through him - but through it all, he registered the vague relief; the kind that came after an episode like this, intense enough that it made you slightly dizzy.

He blinked for a few minutes, swallowing past the dryness in his throat, the moonlight so blindingly bright as it crept in through the gaps in the curtains that it made his eyes water.

It was definitely the moonlight – that’s why his eyes were streaming.

As if the dream, utterly horrifying and twisted beyond assimilation as it had been, could result in tears. Pft.

He sat up slowly, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and biting his lip to stop the trembling.  He’d somehow managed to kick every last inch of the covers off himself – no wonder he was cold. And yet, sweat covered every inch of him; his fair hair dark with moisture, his back heavily damp, his neck and armpits wet, even the backs of his knees sticky and slippery with perspiration.

He stood on weak legs – nearly five hours of sleep and he still felt utterly exhausted. His eyes were still streaming.

In the shower, he let the Charm turn the water as hot as he could stand it, beyond the point of comfort. He shut his eyes and let the heat beat down on him, desperately seeking comfort from it.

It was an old habit now – running to the shower when he woke from a nightmare. It was something he’d begun doing to avoid Pansy during those first few years after the War when they’d shared a flat. She’d demand that he tell her what he’d seen, that they talk about it.

Draco never wanted to talk about it – any of it. What was he even supposed to say?

‘I watched the Dark Lord murder my own mother – torture her until she was catatonic, and then slit her throat.’

‘I ran for my life, speeding through Hogwarts, until I finally slipped off the edge of the Astronomy Tower.’

‘I entered my old room at the Manor and saw dozens of corpses hanging from the ceiling, my parents among them.’

He could hardly bear to recall the details in the privacy of his own mind but to actually say them out loud?

He pulled on the terry robe hung behind the door, his skin fever hot even after he’d dried himself. His carelessly towelled hair dripped thin rivulets down the nape of his neck, down the ridge of his spine. He sank onto the cushioned window seat in the living room, drew his legs up and didn’t even blink when the steaming hot mug of hot chocolate was pressed into his hands.

Harry clambered on opposite him, hugging a cushion to himself as he raised his own mug to his lips. His hair was completely beyond help and he blinked slowly behind his lopsided spectacles, thick, white sleep gathered at the corners of his vivid eyes, making the sooty lashes stick together and clump up. The t-shirt he wore had once been black, now faded to a horrible, lifeless grey, the seam over his right shoulder coming apart, the material worn thin. His feet were bare and wiggled in the frigid breeze that swept over them from outside.

He didn’t look at Draco.

Harry never wanted to talk about it; didn’t even want to acknowledge it. Draco’s chest ached with how much he loved this man.

“Teddy said ‘fuck’ today,” Harry said blandly, making Draco snort into his drink and hurriedly wipe his mouth with one, still-trembling hand. “I nearly died.”

Draco’s sharp intake of breath at the casually uttered words had Harry turning immediately to look at him. He could hear his own breath, loud and slightly ragged, could feel the way his eyes had gone wide…could almost picture the image he’d been trying to banish from his head for the last twenty minutes – the empty green gaze, the sturdy body, tanned and lightly muscled, lying in a pool of blood—

“He looked me right in the eye and said, ‘Give me a fucking chocolate biscuit, Harry.” The words tumbled over each other, the sentence hurriedly thrown at him, expression impassive except for a small furrow in the scarred forehead, a slightly frantic gleam in his anxiously warm eyes.

Draco set his mug down, leaned forward and cupped Harry’s face with both hands. As they kissed, Draco could feel the warmth he’d yearned for, and hadn’t received, in the shower seep through him, warming him up as if a Patronus bounded around inside him, fiercely butting the cold away. His eyes burned wetly behind his closed lids and the lump in his throat threatened to rise higher. He forced it all back – he found the strength to force it back right there in his arms.

When they pulled away, he took a few seconds to simply breathe before opening his eyes. And then he said,

“I’d love a fucking chocolate biscuit too, actually.” His voice shook, but he was aware of his own smile as he spoke.

Harry snorted over a beaming grin, pressed a wet kiss to his forehead and slipped away to fetch the tin of biscuits. His warmth lingered.

And later, back in bed, in the tight circle of Harry’s embrace, Draco fell asleep a lot quicker than he’d woken up.

[notwithout-mymuse]

Fic: 2001

For Robert Week 2017 - Day 3: Free Day    

The story of one warm summer’s day.

Robert/Steven (aka farmhand boy), sort of a prequel to this. Warning: contains mentions of parental abuse.

Apologies to @dasoni for teasing her with this one 😊     

--

It’s the hottest week of the year. The sun is high and bright in the sky, the air is stuffy, and even the slight wind feels warm. As Robert wanders the perimeter of one of the fields, his hand skims the top of the tall, dry grass, and he can already feel the slight itch of sunburn starting to develop on the back of his neck.

He can hear the water splashing on the concrete floor inside one of the currently empty barns and follows the sound, hesitating at the door just out of sight. Steven is inside, hosing down the grubby floor inside, his shirt off as he swelters in the late August heat.

Robert’s dad had hired Steven earlier in the summer to help out on the farm, and since then the two of them had become good friends. But lately Robert had been feeling strangely uncomfortable and nervous around Steven in a way that he couldn’t really explain.

He feels it again now, as he stands just out of sight, clutching tight onto the bottle he’s carrying, as he watches the young labourer work through a gap in the barn’s wooden walls. There’s a second gap in the roof too, that allows the sunlight to stream inside, and Robert can’t stop watching the way it falls on Steven, highlighting his bare, sweaty back, where the muscles shift and strain as he works.

That odd feeling intensifies, Robert’s stomach flipping and a heat creeping through his body that has nothing to do with the weather.

The plastic bottle Robert has carried down from the house slips from his sweaty palm, falling against the wooden wall with a loud thunk, and he immediately panics.

“Hello? Is someone there?” Steven calls out, pausing in his work to push his sweaty brown hair off his forehead.

Don’t be stupid, Robert tells himself as he reaches to pick up the bottle, you live here, you have every right to be wandering around.

“It’s just me!” Robert calls out, as he walks in, hoping that his red cheeks will be attributed to the sun. “I…er, though you might need a drink.”

“Oh! You’re the best Robbie.” Steven says gratefully. Usually Robert hates that nickname, and insists on being called Robert, or Rob to his family, but somehow with Steven it feels different.

He takes the bottle of water that Robert offers him and pulls off the lid to chug the cool liquid. In fact he gulps it a little too quickly, as some of the water starts escaping his mouth, running in rivulets down his chin and neck, all the way down to his bare chest.

“You ok?” Steven asks as he pulls the bottle away from his mouth, and Robert suddenly becomes painfully aware that he was staring at those droplets of water.

“Yeah, fine.” He replies quickly, wishing his voice didn’t sound quite so strained.

An odd, almost suspicious look passes over Steven’s face, and Robert rushes to change the subject.

“How’re you getting on with the cleaning?” He asks, grateful that his voice sounds more normal now.

“Yeah alright, pretty much done. Actually I was just thinking of taking a break, wanna join me?”

They spend the next half an hour sharing a packet of biscuits that Steven pulls out of his bag, chatting about everything and nothing.

“Did you want to hang out tonight?” Steven says suddenly, when their conversation lulls.

“Erm, like, just us…” Robert says, stumbling over his words a little. This is new for them.

“Yeah, I’ve got a couple of beers stashed away near the house, we could just chill for a bit. If you can get away from your dad, that is…”

Robert and Jack have been arguing a lot more lately, mostly over him working on the farm, but he hadn’t realised that Steven had noticed.

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll be there.”

--

Robert pretends to go to bed after tea that evening, waiting until his Dad heads to the pub before retracing his steps down to the barn. The sun is setting now, but the air is still a little humid, grasshoppers scratching around in the grass.

Steven is already there, sitting with his back up against the wall as he watches the sun set over the distant hills. He’s wearing jeans and a white t-shirt now, the fabric pulled tight over his broad shoulders as he holds out an open beer bottle for Robert to take as he sits down.

The first half an hour is normal enough, as they just talk. But then the conversation tails off, and Robert finds himself watching the last of the sun’s rays highlight Steven’s strong cheekbones.

Robert doesn’t know who leans in first, or whose breath hitches most, but all of a sudden Steven’s dry lips are pressing against him, and that squirming feeling in his stomach explodes into something much more intense.

It’s only when they pull apart that the panic starts to set in.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I can go…” Robert stutters breathlessly, his brain screaming at him what have you done, you idiot!

But before he can stand and run away, Steven’s hand wraps firmly around his wrist.

“It’s ok, I don’t mind, not at all. Unless you don’t want…”

“No, I do.” Robert says, only realising how true those words are as they leave his mouth.

After that he loses all sense of time, all rational thoughts lost to soft, experimental kisses that taste of cheap beer, and tentative calloused hands on the side of his face.

Once the sun is down, there is very little light this far down the farm, which causes Steven to pull back at last.

“It’s getting late… I should probably go.” He says, making no move to leave.

“You don’t have to…” Robert replies, throat dry, not wanting to lose this feeling just yet. “Dad will still be at the pub, Victoria will be asleep, and Andy won’t disturb us if we’re… you know… in my room.”

Robert’s heart jumps in his chest when Steven immediately stands, reaching out a hand to pull Robert up and towards the farmhouse.

--

It all goes wrong. Of course it does.

By midnight Robert is curled up in bed in a foetal position, his sense of shame stinging as much as his bruises. The tears falling as the sound of his father’s fury rings in his ears, wondering if he would ever see Steven again.

But before all that, Robert walks back up to his house on a warm summer’s night, a handsome boy holding his hand, and a smile on his face.

And for that short while, he feels free.

[stevevans]

Dating Bucky Barnes

i'm writing this from a mobile on no sleep for at least twenty-four hours so please be gentle, but people liked my dating Steve Rogers so I thought why not? 

Warning; a bit of smut but not much.

You both meet at the DMV because he wanted to get his drivers license and you had to renew yours. 

You look over your shoulder and see some license from like 1940′s and you start laughing.

Bucky raises an eyebrow and is like ‘what are you laughing at?’

He asks to take you on a date right when you get your picture shot and it looks horrendous. At least that's what you say, Bucky thinks it looks wonderful.

even though he could be able to take you on a top notch date with flowers that costs hundreds of dollars, you go to this little Italian place on the corner of a street tucked away from the big city.

Bucky tries to do the Lady and the Tramp, but his nose just gets covered in sauce.

As you walk out it starts to rain and so you are both soaked running to the subway.

When he drops you off at your place he places his hands on your hips and pulls you in, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

He grew up his father teaching him how he had to treat a woman like his dad treated his mother. 

You go on a few more dates before he asks you to be official. He is buzzing with excitement, a glow emitted from his body. 

He tells you how much he wants to show you off, and how he wants to have you on his arm and be his ‘doll’.

SO MANY PET NAMES

‘baby', ‘love’, ‘where did you put the milk hun?’, ‘why did you move away from me sugar?’ 

Cute movie nights where you both wear matching fuzzy socks and have a plethora of salty and sweet foods. 

“Gotta have a good balance” 

By the third week of being together, he knows you’re it for him. He knows why he survived all that time and why he lost his arm and why he went through it with Hydra because he needed to meet you. He knew he’d be able to go through anything if you were by his side. 

When he knows is hilarious because you’re baking these cookies you found on Pinterest and begged to try. You might have spilled the melted chocolate you were pouring in the bowl and it was all over your hands and nose. you looked over at him, your eyes twinkling with mischief and he knew it didn’t mean good. Before he knew it your chocolate covered hands were pressed on his freshly shaven cheeks, your lips pressed to his. He remembered it like it was yesterday, your lips tasted like cookie dough and chocolate.

He got you back though, tickling you for a good fifteen minutes on your couch. 

He spends the night that night, your head curled up into his chest and he went to sleep thinking he was already in a dream. 

He found himself wanting to wake up because his life was a dream, the dream he dreamt always. 

This fucks me up but you asking to meet Bucky’s parents and he takes you to their gravesite. You have a picnic lunch and you tell his parents all about you. He starts walking to the car at the end and you go ‘You raised a good man, I know you’d both be so proud. He saves lives you know, he saved mine too. I think I'm falling in love with him.’ 

not like he saved your life mentally but he legit saved your life. Like you were walking home and someone stopped you and tried to mug you, and Bucky told them off. 

Steve loves you, and Y'all low-key get mani-pedis together every week. Y’all got matching pedicures for fourth of July with little fireworks on your big toes. 

Tony FREAKING when he walks into the movie theater to see you and Bucky in one of the seats curled up into each other a blanket wrapped around you guys.

For your one year anniversary, Bucky gets you the whole set of Harry Potter movies and an attachable wine glass that would like to attach to the bottle of wine and some cool popcorn from Japan or Thailand. 

You give him a sleeve thing for his metal arm with a little pillow, but it’s more for you and some new shoes he’d been wanting. 

but like no PDA except for the fact that he always had his arm slung around you or his hand holding yours.

That rule goes out the window once he’s had a few shots. He’s giggling like a schoolboy and hanging all over you a grin not leaving his face. 

‘you’re so pretty love, did ya know that?’

you nod rolling your eyes and bidding a goodbye to the rest of the gang, having a tipsy clingy Bucky was not the best night. You knew if he had another drink he’d be off the walls like a toddler on a sugar rush.

He wakes up like totally fine though and you pout as he kisses your lips because you wanted to take care of him while he was hungover. 

Binge watching shows, and movie series. It was like your guy's thing, every Friday Y'all sat down and watched just hours of movies.

Your head will end up on his shoulder, drooling slightly as Bucky gets more interested in the movie. 

Y’all adopt a cat, and you weren’t supposed to because Y'all were just there for a friend. Bucky was drawn to the little orange tabby snoozing away in her cage, so small and young. 

He placed his fingers through the cage holes and clicked his tongue and she sat up straight, she immediately came over rubbing up against him. 

He was hooked, fucking hook line and sinker. 

You knew you could never say no to the wide green eyes, or Bucky.

The cat sat on your lap the whole way home, purring and making biscuits in your lap.

You guys named her Juliet and she fit right in. She loves movie nights and sat right on top of you and Bucky her eyes going back and forth following the screen. 

One time when Bucky was throbbing and had just gotten the condom on she hoped in the bed, curling up on your stomach, purring contently and Bucky almost cried, going to the bathroom because he knew you wouldn’t budge. 

Your family loves him because they can finally have someone who won’t let them win at card games. 

Y’all get your first apartment together. It’s super small, but you and Bucky wouldn’t have it either way. 

The only home warming party you three have is watching LOTR on the new couch from Ikea that took seven years to build. 

There’s not much fighting, but when you do fight it;s raw and passionate (not in a good way), real and there's a good chance both of you reach your breaking points. 

One time you went on a business trip and Bucky watched an episode of Breaking Bad without you, and you didn’t talk to him for eleven days.

Three years into your relationship you still do the ‘no you hang up!’ thing when you’re apart. 

Late night stargazings, and conversations about the littlest things. It would be maybe like three am and you would wake Bucky up, ‘talk to me.’ ‘what?’ ‘just talk to me, I wanna hear your voice.’ ‘Well talk about what?’  ‘I don’t know, anythin’

bucky and you never get married, but you didn't need to. You didn’t need a piece of paper to exclaim your love for each other. 

Juliet passed when you were on your third child, laid on the couch where you and Bucky spent so many nights; watching movies, tickle fights, cooing over your new son Alexander, or crying over the loss of your mother. 

You and Bucky living well into old age. He goes first, in his sleep you curled up into his chest. He always said he couldn’t go a day without you. You couldn’t go a day without him either.