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tenthgrove · 4 years ago

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500 Followers Celebration!!!: Part 1 (La Squadra Backstories)

Hey! Thank you so much for 500 amazing followers! Every single one of you mean so much to me!

Part 1 of this celebration is, as the title suggests, my headcanon backstory for each of La Squadra. As some of you know I was at some point in the process of writing a full multi-chapter fic on this, but since that unfortunately never came to fruition beyond the first couple chapters, here is a shortened version of the stories that were originally planned.

Part 2 is going to be a little something I wrote a while back but never felt brave enough to send to more than a few people. That will be seeing the light of day soon. ;)

Risotto

Risotto Dante Nero was born in a small, poor farming village in Sicily, somewhere in the vicinity of Catania. His parents were a young, dysfunctional couple who weren't ready for a kid in the first place. Seeing their newborn son had 'evil' eyes was the last nail in the coffin for them, and they gave the baby up to his paternal grandmother when he was only days old.

Despite being shunned by his family over the aesthetic defect, Risotto was able to form a close bond with his older cousin, Domenico, who would eventually move in with him and his grandmother after being disowned by the family himself. Domenico helped Risotto find friends, and was the main reason why the next few years were the happiest in the young boys life.

Unfortunately, Domenico was struck and killed at age just 19 by a drunk driver, a millionaire from Milan who on top of his intoxication, was driving incredibly fast. Risotto never recovered from the grief; his personality was altered drastically and he eventually dropped out of school. His grandmother indulged him in his revenge fantasies, believing that he would never seriously carry them out. This proved the biggest mistake of her life.

At age 18 Risotto left home to hunt down Domenico's killer. Despite the years of preparation he was in way over his head and was eventually forced to make a deal with Passione for the resources he would need to break into the mansion and not get caught. But the newly initiated mafioso found that revenge did nothing for his grief. Now, he simply had nothing to work for.

Risotto fell into a deep depression for the next two years, doing his duties as a low-ranking soldato for Passione but feeling utterly empty inside. It became so dire that after becoming injured in a fight with a stand user, he welcomed what looked to be his impending death.

But Risotto did not die that day, being saved by an associate of the gang and rushed to hospital. After hearing word that Risotto had defeated a stand user, Prosciutto became interested and approached Risotto for help with a hit he had been assigned to. Risotto agreed and Prosciutto developed a liking for the young man. A few months later, when Prosciutto was tasked with forming a specialised squad for assassination, he remembered Risotto and requested he become the team’s captain. Risotto was put through at once for receiving a stand, and was seated at the head of the brand new La Squadra di Esecuzione.

Prosciutto

Maiale Crepuscolo was born the daughter of a powerful Don in Naples, and his much neglected wife. Raised in luxury, he came to resent his callous father, especially when the man continued to behave adulterously despite his wife’s failing health. The death of Mrs Crepuscolo was a huge blow to her 16 year old son. It was around this time that Maiale discovered his male identity and chose a new name for himself: Prosciutto.

Mere months after the death of his wife, Don Crepuscolo married his pregnant mistress, a young woman by the name of Loreta. Despite the circumstances, Prosciutto and Loreta got on very well together, and the young man confided in her about his transgender identity, to be met with her full support. Any faith that Prosciutto may have had in his father before was immediately lost when Loreta was thrown out onto the streets by her new husband, along with their infant son Pesci. His sole reason for doing this was that he had become tired of her, and the baby's crying.

Without his father’s knowing, Prosciutto continued to wire Loreta and Pesci money through his hefty allowance, and counted down the days until he could graduate highschool and become eligible for his mother’s inheritance. The very day he gained access to it, he cut his father off for good.

The next few years of Prosciutto’s life were the best. He went to a prestigious university to study politics and afterwards found work as a journalist. With his father no longer an issue, he medically transitioned and upped the money he was giving to his half-brother and former step-mother. Everything was going perfectly.

At age 24, Prosciutto received a visit by members of Passione, who informed him they had annexed his father’s gang and killed him. As much as Prosciutto insisted they had been estranged for years, the men maintained that Prosciutto was still considered a threat, and could only be allowed to live if he joined the gang. Worse, they threatened him with Pesci’s life. Prosciutto knew he had no choice.

Over the next few years, Prosciutto worked his way up. By age 27 he was granted the privilege to develop a stand, and was quickly pushed into the assassination business as a result of its deadly power. At that time, Passione had no designated assassination team, and individuals ordered to carry out hits had to go running around for volunteers if they needed help on a mission. This is why Prosciutto had sought out Risotto.

When the order to form a hitman squad was given, Prosciutto was initially primed to become the captain. However, he was strongly against taking this role, as Loreta was starting to show signs of chronic illness and Prosciutto wanted to make sure he could still take care of Pesci if it became necessary. Tasked with finding an alternative, Prosciutto initially approached his old friends Sorbet and Gelato, who had been part of the squad sent to confront him after the death of his father and had kept in touch out of pity. The pair were cleared to join the team, but were not trusted by the team’s superiors to become captain. And so, Prosciutto turned once more to Risotto.

Sorbet and Gelato

Sorbet and Gelato could not have been born in more different circumstances, the former in absolute poverty, and the latter in comparative privilege.

Sorbet’s mother was by no means a bad woman. It was just the case that through her crippling addictions and mental illnesses, she was in no means equipped to care for her 6 children, forcing Sorbet, the eldest, to pick up the slack. Though he loved his siblings the young Sorbet resented this role and was easily tempted by a street gang at age 12, who offered him escape from his miserable life through drug peddling. Sorbet began to drift from his family more and more. He soon disappeared from school, and became completely estranged from his mother and siblings.

By age 17 Sorbet had developed a reputation in the gang for ruthlessness, and was approached by its leader to carry out a number of assassinations. He soon became the group’s designated hitman, and was paid generously for the role. He was still however, functionally homeless.

Gelato was born to an upper-middle class family in Minsk, Russia. The youngest of four boys, his parents had been hoping for a girl, and their resentment only grew when it became clear the young Gelato was both autistic and ADHD. He suffered from extreme emotional neglect.

When Gelato was 13, the family moved back to Italy where his mother was from. Though he preferred it here, the problems with his family continued and Gelato was eventually kicked out at just 17 years old.

Following the word of a friend, Gelato made his way to Naples and found work running an illegal bar for a street gang in exchange for a room to sleep in. The same gang, incidentally, that Sorbet was working for. The two first exchanged words when Gelato found Sorbet beating up a patron who had been abusive to him, and decided to join in. Within weeks, they were lovers.

One night, while Sorbet and Gelato were asleep upstairs, the police raided the bar. In a panic, Gelato shot two, and Sorbet took out a third. The fourth got away. Knowing they would be hunted, the pair begged refuge from their gang but were denied. They were not a powerful enough syndicate to deal with something of this size. And so, with only each other, Sorbet and Gelato fled Italy.

They were on the run for two years, passing through just about every country in Europe at least once. As a means of surviving, they took on assassination contracts from local gangs and became very skilled, but of course this only turned up the heat to catch them. Eventually, it got too much, and in a final desperate bid to avoid capture, the pair went back to Italy to plead their gang to reconsider.

What they found now in charge of Naples was not their gang, but Passione. A capo by the name of Pericolo listened to their story, and agreed eagerly to dissuade the police from pursuing them in exchange for their loyalty to the new gang. Sorbet and Gelato agreed at once, and developed stands soon after.

Formaggio

A Naples Boy through and through, Formaggio was born in the central city to a large, loving family. Owing to their poverty, all the aunts, grandparents and cousins lived in one house. Although many were part of the mafia, it was always stressed to the children they were under no obligation to choose such a life. Nonetheless, many of them still did.

One night, Formaggio’s eldest brother Miguel sneaked off from the house, telling nobody but Formaggio. His goal was to seek initiation into Passione. The young Formaggio pleaded to come as well, but was told he was not ready yet. Miguel returned a couple of hours later, carrying a metal arrowhead. He told his brother that something unexpected had happened, and he needed to go now, but it was vital Formaggio told nobody of this meeting. He promised it would all be worth it in the end.

Years passed, and Miguel did not return. Then one day- a hastily-written letter, addressed solely to Formaggio. In his final message, Miguel apologised for the absence and announced that he did not expect to survive the next few hours. However, if Formaggio wanted the answers to all that had transpired, all he needed to do was recover the arrowhead that he had last seen Miguel with all those years ago. Most likely, it would have been returned to where he found it, address enclosed. Saddened and eager to understand what had happened to his brother, Formaggio followed the instructions and broke into a heavily guarded warehouse. He found the arrow, just as Miguel had said, but failed to understand how this could solve his problems.

Formaggio looked for a way out of the warehouse, and was suddenly set upon by the guards. He ran for the exit and tripped, impaling himself on the arrow. Little Feet came forth at once, stunning the guards. Not wanting to deal with whatever that was, they called in Risotto and his newly built execution squad, based nearby, to deal with it.

Fortunately, the assassins’ skills were not needed. In spite of the circumstances Formaggio met the assassins with charm and cooperation. Risotto phoned his superiors to see if killing the man was really necessary, and they agreed it wasn’t, provided Formaggio became Risotto’s business. An agreement was reached, and Formaggio was inducted into the hitman squad. It would take two more members for Formaggio to piece together what had happened to his brother.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio was dealt an awful hand in life. Poor, and with parents that hated him, he had little respite as a child. He was autistic, but never diagnosed, and had visual impairments that were never addressed. His fondest memory was of a bizarre couple he met as a child, a dark-haired, dour man and his blond lover, who kept him company after his mother walked away from him in anger at a shopping mall. She came back, unfortunately.

When Ghiaccio was 15, a frantic knock sounded at his door while his parents were out. Answering it nervously, an equally frantic man stood on the other side brandishing an arrow-head. He introduced himself exhaustedly as Miguel and begged for shelter- he was being chased.

Before Ghiaccio could answer a squad of men burst onto the porch and attacked Miguel, dragging him out of view. Ghiaccio was thrown to the ground and told in no uncertain terms to speak of none of this to anyone. It wasn’t until later he realised the arrow had accidentally slashed him.

At that time, Ghiaccio’s soul was not fit to manifest a stand, but it was close. And so, Ghiaccio began to suffer the slow, agonising fate that some in his position fall victim to, his half-manifested stand slowly sucking the life from him. His parents didn’t even have the heart to call a doctor.

Two months into this agony, Ghiaccio heard something outside his room. His parents. They were talking about what to do if he died. He’d had enough. He snapped.

And so, Ghiaccio’s soul reached the point where it was strong enough to bare a stand fully, after having already partially manifested one. This unheard of situation created a stand with no physical form, but unspeakable power. A surge of ice broke out around the house without Ghiaccio even meaning it to, killing his parents at once. His sickness gone, Ghiaccio got up from the bed. What the hell had just happened?

Convinced he had lost his mind, Ghiaccio fled, but left a trail of unexplainable events behind him. Realising they were dealing with an unaccounted stand user, Passione had Ghiaccio hunted down and propositioned to join them. Terrified and with no other idea of what to do, he agreed. With a stand like this, there were only 2 options: La Squadra and La Unita. La Unita had no interest in an impulsive teenager, so Ghiaccio was sent at once to La Squadra.

The group was reluctant to house a teenage boy as an assassin, but took him in nonetheless. Formaggio was grateful for the crumbs of information Ghiaccio could give about the fate of his brother. Sorbet and Gelato couldn’t shake the feeling they’d seen the boy before somewhere.

Illuso

He was an only child. There was nothing particularly wrong with his relationship with his parents, but nothing particularly right either. There just… wasn’t a connection. They were a middle class family, well to do but nothing special. An arrogant boy, Illuso struggled to make friends, though he did become somewhat close with a boy in the year below him named Formaggio, for a short time.

When Illuso was 15, his parents came to him with a proposition. A distant relative of theirs was in possession of a large castle, but could not pay for its upkeep any more. The man had asked if Illuso would be interested in becoming a live-in caretaker, to be paid less than industry standards but still a lot by the standards of a 15 year old boy. Illuso agreed at once, and moved out of his parents home in a matter of days.

At the castle, his loneliness only grew. The place was closed to visitors and had no inhabitants apart from his new employer, who even then only lived in the castle 4 days a week. Illuso thought he was okay with this life, but the effect on his psyche was indisputable.

Then one day, the castle had a break-in. Illuso was accosted by a young man named Miguel, who had been squatting in the cellar for days and believed the castle was abandoned. The pair came to an understanding, and Miguel proposed that in exchange for his silence, he would give Illuso something amazing. He pricked him with the arrow.

Thrilled with his new power, Illuso agreed to keep Miguel’s existence a secret and the pair co-existed for many years. Illuso learned that Miguel had stolen the arrow from a gang named Passione, after discovering its power and making the decision to take it on impulse. Passione is still hunting him, hence the need to hide.

But eventually, they found him nonetheless. Illuso and Miguel tried their best to fight but it was an uneven battle. Miguel fled with the arrow, chased by one half of the attacking squad, leaving Illuso to deal with the other half.

But against all odds, Illuso survived, using his stand to eliminate the attackers one by one. Eventually the last attackers gave in and fled, The next people sent to confront Illuso came with a deal: join Passione, and all will be forgiven.

Despite his stand’s power, Illuso’s superiors disliked his attitude. After a few months of being thrown between teams, he was saddled with La Squadra.

Melone

The middle of three children, Melone was born to an upper-working class family in Florence. His parents were eccentric-academic sorts, who encouraged Melone and his sisters to act without regard for social convention. Though intelligent, Melone was never quite top of the class due to his inability to stay on task. Still, he got into a decent university and had plans to become a gynaecologist.

In his second year, Melone was approached by a poor couple seeking antenatal care for their pregnancy. As they explained, they were in a gang and could not go into public care for fear of their identities as criminals being discovered. They pleaded Melone for whatever rudimentary checks he could provide, just so they could have some assurance their baby was okay. Melone agreed, and met with the couple several times.

Over the course of the next year, Melone gave similar services to a couple more women who were recommended to go to him by the first patient. It was only a matter of time before the university discovered what he was doing, especially once he started stealing equipment to improve the quality of his examinations. Melone was expelled and referred to the police, but one of his patients got Passione to bribe away his charges. Unfortunately, this put him in their debt. Melone told his family he was simply going away for a while.

Melone languished around in Passione for a while. Though he did receive a stand, its lethal capabilities weren’t immediately clear, and so he remained in the lower ranks. His main respite was the bar scene, in which he got to mingle with many of Passione’s members from different squads. It was through here that he met Illuso, Formaggio and Ghiaccio of the execution team, and formed a friendship. Through them he even formed links with the group’s leader, Risotto.

The team were eager to help Melone advance to a better position, and aided him in exploring his stand. Eventually, he discovered how lethal baby face could truly be, outshining everyone’s expectations. Risotto was pleased to welcome him into the team.

Pesci

By the time Pesci was 13, it was clear his mother’s illness was terminal. Initially reluctant to involve him around the team, Prosciutto increasingly allowed Pesci to stay with them while his mother was at the hospital, since there was nowhere else for the young boy to go. As much as everyone tried to comfort him, he was terrified.

Two years later, it was clear Loreta was in her final weeks. Pesci dedicated as much time as he could to being with her, sleeping at her bedside more often than not. It was here that he first felt the strange occurrences begin. It would be subtle at first, the peculiar feeling of his mother’s heartbeat in his hands as he drifted off to sleep. It was comforting, then. It assured him his mother was still alive. Then, it got weirder, a long string extending from his fingers and into his mother’s chest. He thought he was just sleep deprived.

When the fateful day came and Loreta’s heart monitor stopped, Pesci felt a surge of panic. Desperate to find some proof this wasn’t really happening, his stand burst forth from his body and shot its hook into Loreta’s chest. Unfortunately, it was all for nothing. Loreta was dead.

As Pesci held the rod in his hands he realised this was far too real to be a hallucination. He could sense everything, the fading metabolism of his mother’s body and the vibrations in the floor. As the nurses confirmed the death, they could not see it. Why couldn’t they see it?

Prosciutto came into the room. With one look, Pesci knew that his brother could see the rod as well. He panicked and ran.

Prosciutto tried desperately over the next couple days to get in touch with Pesci. He knew exactly what had happened- clearly the boy had summoned a stand from the anguish of his mother’s death and had freaked out in confusion. That’s all completely understandable, but if Pesci isn’t informed of what his new power means soon, he could get himself into serious trouble. Especially if Passione found out.

And so, Prosciutto set off with Risotto to hunt Pesci down, eventually finding him at a run down park near his childhood home. Prosciutto comforted him and explained he knew what was happening, but if everything was going to be okay, he had to go with them.

#la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #formaggio #illuso #prosciutto #pesci #melone #ghiaccio #risotto nero #sorbet and gelato

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binnie-huaisang · 4 years ago

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Silly Fight

Genre: angst, fluff(?

Pairing: Chan × reader

Words: 3.4 k

TW: Mental health issues, depression.

Also, this came out a little darker that I intended and by the end I didn’t have the heart to give it the final I was actually going to write, BUT if you wanna read the original ending I was planning, you can look for the “alternative” version in my blog where I added the original ending because apparently I like to make myself cry (:

Note: I'm sorry if there are some spelling or grammar mistakes, or if some expressions just don't make sense. English isn't my first language, but I promise I'm trying my best.

Chan and you started dating a few years ago, of course nobody knew that, except for your friends and his family.

At the beginning of the relationship you were really nervous all the time, always scared to make a bad movement or saying something that could maybe make him uncomfortable. That, and the fact that you didn’t even live in the same country, had you worried every moment of every day. You had always been an overthinker, and this certainly did no better to your condition.

However, things were going great, and it wasn’t too long for the little voices in your head to notice that. It was almost as if Chan and you were meant for eachother. It wasn’t like anything you had experienced before. Your relationship was one of those that you can only find in fairytales, and you knew that it was because both of you were so in love that every thing that could seem as a problem for other people, meant nothing to you.

Even with the distance, you would always be there for eachother. Every time he was getting frustrated over work or you were having a bad time because of college, you would always be there to give support to the other.

Even if your personalities were very different, you barely fought, and it wasn’t because you weren’t able to see the other’s defects or mistakes, but because you knew that they were part of the person you loved and, in a certain way, you also had fallen for those things.

Yes, both of you were completely different worlds, but somehow, you made it work. Even after taking that big step that was making your relationship official, everything kept being the exact same way. Now, it wasn’t only your loved ones who would always tell you that you were basically soulmates, but also his fans and comrades.

Everything was just perfect, or at least it was until that afternoon…

You were visiting Chan after a few months of not seeing each other and, as usual, he took you to that coffee shop that was near his company building.

He was trying his best to act like everything was okay and that nothing was bothering him, but you knew him more than anyone in the world, and you could tell that something was off.

“Babe, is something bothering you?” you asked while caressing his hand over the table.

He saw the concern behind your eyes and that only made the guilt inside of him grow. He didn’t wanna do it, he knew it would end really bad for both of you, but he knew that if he didn’t tell you, someone else would, and that would be even worse.

“Everything’s alright angel” he lied. “Let’s eat, the food will get cold”, and there it was, that smile, the one that he uses every time something is bothering him but he doesn’t wanna tell you.

“Chan”, you called, making him look up to you. He could hardly look at you in the eye without getting nervous. He knew a fight was coming, and he was doing everything he could to hold it over. He was really trying, but he felt so guilty for being the reason for your concern.

Suddenly, the image of you crying in his bed popped into his mind. It was the first time he ever saw you cry, and no one could put in words how guilty and broken he felt for knowing that he was the reason behind it. Apparently you saw one of those mean comments people make on social media about him and you couldn’t resist it.

You were the kind of person that never cared about what others said about you, but as soon as someone said something about your loved ones, it was on.

That was one of the hardest days for both of you. You were trying to give comfort words to each other, but it was useless. You could still not understand why would people be so mean towards the best person you’ve ever met, the one who was always there for anyone that needed some help. On the other hand, he would never forgive himself for making you cry. He knew it was because of him, and he was feeling so mad for making the one he loved suffer in that way. You were his whole world, his motivation on the hard days and his celebration partner on the best ones.

You were everything he could’ve dreamed of, in his eyes you were just perfect, and the fact that he hurt you in some way was something that would never happen again. Or at least that was what he thought.

“Chan? Chan!” Your voice brought him back to reality. “Listen, I don’t know what’s happening, but you know you can tell me everything”.

“Well… Actually, there is something I need to tell you…” He finally said and you nodded. “I was talking with some people from the company the other day and… They asked me to talk to you about some things related to your podcast”.

Chan looked at you, examining every inch of your face, looking for any movement or expression that could let him know what you were thinking, but it was useless. Your expression was completely neutral.

However, in your head things were very different. You weren’t stupid, of course you knew what he was about to say.

You and your best friend, Santiago, had a podcast where you would talk about random stuff, it could be mental health issues, cartoons, movies, or even political complains, it was basically two friends just talking to each other. This podcast had existed even before you knew Chan and it didn’t seem like there was a problem about it until some people of Chan’s company asked him to tell you that you should stop joking about your mental health online because it gave a “bad image”.

That happened just a couple months ago and you were still mad. Anyone who knew you knew that was your coping mechanism and they had the audacity to ask you to stop doing it. Of course you could just refuse to do it, but you didn’t want any problems, besides, after talking with Santiago, you both agreed that there were some comments that could actually be a trigger to some of your audience, so you ended up agreeing.

“What is it?” Your face could be inexpressive, but your voice revealed all the annoyance you were feeling.Of course, Chan noticed that and it only made him more nervous. He really didn't want to do it, he knew it was unfair, but he had to tell you.

“Well… It’s actually a very stupid thing, you will probably laugh when you hear it because it´s really stupid-”

“Just tell me” you said, cutting off the babbling of the slightly scared boy that was sitting across from you.

“They say you should stop swearing so much”.

Chan was right, you did laugh, but it wasn’t for the reason he expected. You were so done with them. As much as you always hated the control they had over Chan, you could kind of understand it since he worked for them, but you didn’t, and the fact that they were trying to have control over you and your friend was unacceptable.

“You know what? I’m going to talk with them, I’m fucking done”. You said getting up from your seat. Even when you were keeping your voice in a low tone, some people turned because of the sudden move.

“Babe!” Chan took your wrist in his hand before you could start walking away. He didn’t say anything, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he wanted you to stay there and talk about it, and so you did.

“It’s just that… It’s so stupid!” You said a little more relaxed.

“I know baby” Chan comforted you by caressing your left cheek.

“I mean, I would consider changing something if it made you uncomfortable, but I shouldn’t have to change because some people that don’t even know me think that I ‘swear’ a lot”.

“Well…” The panic showed on his face as soon as he realized what he had done.“

‘Well’?” You raised a brow. “So you think they’re right’“

“No! Of course not! I’m just saying that maybe you do swear in moments where it’s not completely necessary”. Despite his previous intent of calm you down, he was having some stressful days and he was beginning to feel tired.

“But that’s the way I talk!”

“Well, maybe the way you talk does give a bad image!”

“Oh, because I clearly care so much for my image! Why do you care anyways? You’re not even in the podcast!”

Chan let out a sarcastic laugh. “What did you say before? That you would consider changing something if it made me uncomfortable? Go ahead then, change it! Oh, wait. You won’t, because you are so used to people agreeing with you that whenever someone disagrees you just ignore it!”

You stared at him with a stunned look. Something inside you knew that none of you were thinking straight and that maybe you should stop, but you were so mad at him for agreeing with the people that were trying to control you, that you ignored that little voice.

“First of all, why do you all complain about it so much? Whenever I say a bad word or ‘swear’ or however you wanna call it, I do it in my first language, you don’t even understand what I’m saying so shut the fuck up! And second, it doesn’t even make sense that you are telling me that you are bothered because of my language! I never swear around you because I know that your holy ears bleed everytime someone says ‘fuck’. Why don’t you just tell me that you are so scared of them that you need to be a total jerk to me in order to make them happy?”

“Oh, so now I’m being a jerk? You know what? Maybe I am scared of them, but you are being selfish! You are not even thinking about how this can affect me!”

“Pleeease!” You said with a sarcastic laugh. “You’re no one to talk about it! You were the one who pushed me into revealing our relationship because ‘you didn’t want to hide anything from your fans’“ You mocked. “I wasn’t prepared and you still made me appear in front of a camera! You didn’t care what it would do to me, so don’t talk to me about being selfish!”

You could feel the tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You always tried to ignore the bad comments since they were minimum, but sometimes you couldn’t help being affected by them, especially when you were already having bad times.

“You know I’m sorry for that”. Chan said recovering from the sudden anger. He knew that he made a mistake by throwing you to the world like that and there wasn’t a day he didn’t regret it.

“Well, that doesn’t make the death threats disappear”. As much as you tried to hold them, you felt the tears finally scape.

Chan was speechless, he wanted to say something, to hug you and say sorry for everything, but he couldn’t move. He was just there, sitting while he watched you fall apart. And the worst part was yet to come…

“I- I don’t care about this. I don’t care about those stupid coments and I wouldn’t care about what your stupid bosses tell you if it wasn’t beacuse it’s always me who has to do or change something” Your voice was barely a whisper, but Chan could hear every single word. “My grades have been getting down, you know?” A sad smile painted your face. “I’ve been feeling bad for months and I cannot pay attention to my lessons. To be honest, I don’t even know if I like my career anymore, but I can’t quit, I don’t want to. I keep telling to myself ‘maybe it’s not the career, it’s just my depression, I’ll be fine in a few days’, but I’m not fine and I’ve been wanting to look for help but therapy is fucking expensive”.

Chan was looking at you completely devastated. He never knew you were feeling bad. Of course he knew about your depression, but you once told him that you’ve been feeling alright for more than a year now. How stupid he was for not noticing. He wanted to ask you why you didn’t say anything, why would you hide such important things, but, once again, he didn’t.

“The money I earn… I use everything to come here to see you because you are not allowed to visit me” You said in a more bitter tone than you intended. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming you, I know this is your job but… It can be a little exhausting to be the one who always has to adapt, to be the strong one. I never say anything because I love you so much and I know I should support you because the path you chose is already hard enough but… I’m just… tired. I’m tired of everything”.

You didn’t even have time to react when your boyfriend got up from his seat and walked around the table to kneel in front of you and wrap his arms tightly around your waist. The initial shock fading as you heard his muffled crying on your chest. You were trying to comfort him by caressing his hair, but it was useless. After a few minutes, when both of you felt that the sobs of the other were fading, Chan finally looked up at you, sending a wave of guilt through your body as you saw his still teary eyes.

Before you could say anything, he gave you a soft and long kiss on the forehead. The kiss was so full of love and emotions that it made you tear once again.

“I’m so sorry” He said with a raspy voice. “I’m such an asshole for not noticing. You’re always there for me and I just-”

“Shhh” You interrupted by caressing his cheek. “None of this is your fault. I shouldn’t have brought up the subject, this wasn’t the time to do it”.

“Hey, don’t say that!” Chan said as he lifted your chin to meet his eyes. “You’re right, I guess I’m taking more than what I’m giving, but this stops now. I will talk with my manager to see if he can fix something, and as for your therapy… I will pay for it”.

“Of course not!” You said with wide eyes. “I’m the one who has to handle this, I’ll find the way”.

“Angel, you don’t have to go through this by yourself, you have me now and I will not leave you alone… Not again”.

And with that said, he held you in his arms once again pulling you as closer as he could as if he feared you’d disappear at any moment. After a few seconds, you heard your boyfriend’s muffled voice again.

“Don’t say that again”.

“What?”

“That you are tired of everything, don’t say that. If you say that you’re tired of me, that you’re tired of college… I can take it, but please don’t say you’re tired of everything”. His words made you suddenly go pale. You didn't expect him to understand the meaning of your words, but he did. Even if you never told him the full story because you were so scared of him dismissing the matter, he knew you were struggling with something ever since you were a child. In fact, he knew more than you tought.

As far as you knew, he was always very busy to listen to your podcast, but that was only partially true, since he did use to listen to some of the chapters. One of them was the one where you and Santiago were talking about the importance of mental health and how people should always ask for help if they feel like there’s something that’s not working as it should. In that chapter you talked a little bit about your experience with depression and you mentioned… Something. Something that you almost did in middle school. Of course, Santiago didn’t seem surprised, since he already knew about it and he only reassured you that you weren’t alone anymore, but for Chan, knowing about that situation really shocked him. Of course he never told you anything since he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but ever since he found out about this… Situation, he would find himself thinking about it in the most unexpected moments of the day.

After thinking about what would be the best answer to the sudden request, you decided that a simple nod would be the only thing that wouldn’t make you burst into tears again, so that’s what you did.

“I still don’t want you to pay for my therapy tho” You said with a tired smile after your boyfriend had broken the hug just to start playing with your hands.

“We’ll talk about it later, angel” He said, smiling back at you, but this time it wasn’t a sarcastic or a nervous smile, it was a real one. “Now, why don’t we go back to the apartment? I will cook something delicious for you”.

“But we already have food here!” You said, letting out a little giggle at the ridiculous proposal.

You could see how the red color of his cheeks and ears became more intense before he leaned toward one of yours. “To be honest… I don’t know if I feel comfortable eating in a room full of people that saw me crying just a few instants ago”.

A sincere laugh escaped your lungs. You hadn’t thought about it until he pointed it out and he was right, it was kind of embarrassing. After a few more giggles from both of you because of the whole situation, you found yourselves walking towards the entrance while holding hands. It was weird, you knew that for most people, having that kind of discussion could've ended in so much pain, and even a breakup, but you weren’t like most people. Chan meant the world to you and you were the love of his life, which meant that he would not back down and he would not let anyone hurt you, even if that someone was you.

You were already walking down the street when you suddenly remembered something.

“Baby?” He looked at you with a sweet simile. “You don’t know how to cook”.

“Well, maybe by ‘cooking something for you’ I meant supervising the people who will actually cook for you”.

“Channie!” You whined, a little worried that his friends will get tired and refuse to keep cooking for you one of these days.

“It’s alright! Felix loves cooking for you! And Lino loves having you around, why would he refuse?” And there they were, the beautiful dimples you’ve been missing for so long.

You stared at his face for a few moments and before he could ask why had you stopped walking, you planted a quick kiss on his right dimple, followed by a sweet peck on his lips.

You laughed at the flustered boy standing in front of you, your smile only getting wider as you felt him holding you by your waist and pulling you closer so he could hide his already red face in the curve of your neck.

“I love you _____“ He murmured, sending shivers down your spine and making you feel butterflies in your chest.

“And I love you, my angel“

“Hey! That’s my nickname for you“ He pouted.

“I know baby, but you truly are an angel to me“ “Stopthisatonceifyoudon’twantmetokissyoualloveryourbeautifulfaceohmygodIloveyoumuch“ You giggled again, barely being able to listen to his muffled words since his face had already found its way back to your neck.

“Channie… I’m sorry for starting that silly fight…”

“Hey, stop it! You had all the right to be mad! And it wasn��t a ‘silly fight‘. Actually, I’m kind of grateful that it happened, since it made me know how you were feeling”.

You were about to complain, but before you could, he planted a quick kiss on your hand and dragged you towards his body, making you get back to the pathway. “Let’s go angel! The faster we get there, the faster I will be able to start begging Minho to cook something for us”.

Hi! I’m sorry if this is too bad, this is my first time writing a short fic and it’s also the first time I write something this long only in english. If there are any grammar mistakes that you can find, feel free to send me a DM and correct me (:

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thecitythatdoesntsleep · 4 years ago

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[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ]

[Tags & Tw] Slavery, grooming, abuse, human pet auction, implied/referenced noncon, noncon touching, magnetic restraint implants, drugging/non-consensual drug use, vampire whumpee, they/them whumpee

"This one is damaged, paper says. Apparently the physical defects didn't fix in the turning process."

"Shit, mark it down and put it in with the rest of'em anyways. Just tell the man up front to run a deal."

"You don't think boss'll care?"

"Money is money, right? So long as these bloodsuckers sell, he won't give two fucks."

It was dark as the room filled with stagnant silence, the audience waiting with baited breath for the lights to switch on and announcer to appear.

When he did, it was a little less than grand; a well-suited gentleman taking center stage and cradling a mic close to his lips.

"Welcome to the 500th, yes you heard it right ladies and gentlemen, 500th auction of Lifepets."

Uproarious clapping filled the renovated opera house and it took a long pause to wait for it to thin down. When it did, everyone's attention was hinged on the man's every word.

"I'm pleased to inform that because of this enormous milestone, we've gone above and beyond. Tonight, we'll be auctioning off 50 freshly turned pets."

A cheerful response from the audience would be in any other case, a jovial thing. In this happenstance, it was an ugly, terrifying sound.

"They have been trained briefly, defanged, microchipped and magnetic implants have been surgically installed to each of their limbs for tangle free restraint."

The crowd gave slight chatter amongst themselves, 'ooh's' and 'ahh's' being given the more that the man's voice denoted across the speakers. There was an air of impatience, with every minute spent in lingering wait for the beginning of the festivities.

"Each of the pets will start at a low, low bid of $5,500. And the filing process will be a low, set rate of $500 for this special night only."

Large display monitors flipped on behind the tables and chairs that were set up for guests, their image turning to a small string of information about the upcoming, first selling item. All sight turned to peek at it and very little description was given seeing as the pet would be brought out on stage soon.

"We thank you all from the bottoms of our hearts for helping make this possible and keeping our business thriving. Whether you're looking for a caretaker, a sexual partner, release for that anger you don't have to feel guilty for... Lifepets has you covered."

At the 'joke' the man had made, there was laughter of all kinds and some lasted longer than others and each had it's own tone. Embarrassment, genuine humor, some patrons looked at each other with slimy grins that spread ear to ear. Like it really was such a funny thing to tease about.

"Without further delay, if everyone could look at the screens in the back of the building. To get us started right, we're going to drop the initial bid for this first pet down to $500. You could pay as little as $1,000 to take them home tonight."

The first vampire was brought out in the darkness of the stage behind the announcer, their limp, doll-like body being propped up in such a way that it held itself up. Whatever drugs they were given were strong, they couldn't manage to pull their head up much from it's half-mast position on their shoulders.

The screens displayed in large, white font on black backgrounds.

22 Years old at turning.

Blonde hair, blue eyes.

One tattoo, no major scarring.

60 days mandatory training completed.

More bright, blinding overheads turned on and it made the bound vampire on stage want to recoil into a ball despite their lethargy. Everything had giant, shining prisms casting off every beam of light; the reflections off mirrors and glass tables illuminating the room with a dim ambiance.

A gloved man grabbed the downcast head of the terrified creature and forced it's head up to meet eyes with the crowd. A tinge of piercing blue cast a ring in other worldly eyes and pupils trembled in what they saw before them.

Wolves, it was like a pack of hungry wolves. Being promised they can torment and torture without the need to feel anything akin to remorse. Even though they were once human, the modification to their DNA made all the difference. The stillness to their heart and deadened response to their lungs was the damning physical traits that lead them to a life of servitude.

"Now I won't lie to you... The discount is for damage, from what we understand, this pet has a few physical conditions that weren't reversed in the transformation process. It's left ear is deaf and left eye blind. All the better though, huh? Wouldn't be hard to sneak up on this one, hahaha."

The gloved man turned the vampires face towards the near-by projector camera and fingers squeezed into the hollows of their cheeks to tell them to open their mouth. When they did, two gaping extractions were throwing off their bite-line, teeth missing all together to prove their fangs had been dealt with.

"Give a little something sexy for the camera..." The man whispered and shoved a leather cased thumb against a plush, pink tongue. It idly wrapped around the digit and dry, uncared for lips closed in an absent sucking motion.

"Their second virginity hasn't been claimed, though, they've been shown how to do a little of the basics. So you're able to get them put to work right away."

No matter where the vampire looked, there was a seedy, low-brow looking person, staring them down like a predator to prey. Their mind was overwhelmed by the drugs in their system but also the thought of eventually being alone with one of these menacing faces.

Drool now clung to their lips from the unwelcomed finger in their mouth but once it was gone, the distraction was over and it almost made the vampire whimper in distress. They just wanted to get it over with, or stay with their handlers. At least the handlers had a guide of loose rules they had to follow.

The more that the man talked, the more the faces around them contorted with plans of sadistic glee. The vampires vision doubled at times, making the room spin with dozens of sets of prying eyes and wicked smiles.

A particularly cruel tug at the magnetic restraints and the gloved man had the vampire yanked down further to their hands and knees. Another push and he bent their middle down, accentuating the curve of their backside and the spread of their thighs.

Tears built up in the blue, ocean eyes and they were fought back when the leather glove carded through their hair. They would never have a chance of getting a good home or serving a worthy master if they were such awful cry babies. Or so their inner voice told them.

The smallest spark of motivation gave the vampire a reason to arch their back and lean into the touch that soothed across their body to cause them to naturally react.

Impatience started to build in the crowd and the announcer was merely letting them all take in the show.

Bare, porcelain skin being displayed on multiple, floor to ceiling screens as the vampire's lips hung open in the tiniest display of pleasure. Fingers curled into blonde hair and ruined the look of lust on their features; a ringing stab of pain to awaken their senses and widen their dopey doe-eyes. Shock looked so pretty when it was tacked to the end of bliss.

"So... Do I hear $500 for the discount pet?"

"$500!"

"$1,000!"

"$3,000!"

"$5,000!"

A twisted pang of relief filled the vampire when they heard the different voices from all around the building echo their bids. The number went higher and higher and it gave them the smallest sliver of hope. That they weren't too damaged and broken for a master after all and that they'd be able to be sold. They told themselves they would be grateful to even get a home but now, it seemed like it was really going to happen.

The vampire felt the unlatching of their magnetic shackles and instead, the gloved man crossed their wrists together for the plates to lock to themselves. He grabbed their arm and pulled them to their feet as the bidding war started to come to a final climax. Ready to drag them back behind the stage curtain to prepare for their future owner.

"Going once, going twice...and... SOLD. To the guest at table 38 for $16,800!"

#whump #pet whump #vampire whump #whump prompt #whump scenario #whump tropes #whump fic #whump writing #vlor #tw implied noncon #tw abuse #tw slavery #tw drugs #tw grooming #tw noncon touching #tw whump #tw vampires #tw implied kidnapping

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the-writing-mill · 5 years ago

Note

Fantasy au arranged marriage, pairing of choice involving Obi-Wan?

Is this... is this about the arranged marriage fantasy AU I abandoned for homework on the discord yesterday? Is that what’s going on here, anon? Are you on the discord server or does everyone just have this sort of thing on the brain recently?

In either case though I shan’t rehash that but do something else lol

Obi-Wan is born as the third royal prince in a mountainous, vaguely European country. The world is about at renaissance level technology, with a few bonuses due to the presence of magic (and magical creatures)

His majesty, King Qui-Gon Jinn, is a moral, stubborn ruler who is thought of fondly by the commoners but who is also quite unthinking at times, a bit neglectful and letting the nannies and governesses raise his children

His royal highness, crown prince Freemor is studious and quiet, and frequently works in the gardens. People are tentatively approving of him as crown prince, since he should be able to handle managing the kingdom’s graneries and other food resources well, but are worried about what will happen during foreign affairs, especially if they go to war.

His royal highness, second prince Xanatos, is... certainly aggressive and ambitious like is needed for foreign affairs, but there are too many rumors of underhandedness and selfishness for him to drum up support, especially by the public

Obi-Wan Kenobi, the third prince, grows up feeling the need to rise to his title. His brothers are already well-versed in their studies and have their own strengths physically. Further, Obi-Wan was told by a nanny when he was young that a true prince has a duty to help their citizens as much as they can and he’s never let that go

Obi-Wan, like all members of the royal family, also has the ability to use magic. And so he is sent off for a few years of his childhood to the academy run the druids/[insert magic pseudo-priest group here]. There he makes good friends with Quinlan Vos, a count’s son whose family is well known as sword mages

When Obi-Wan learns the basics of magic enough from the academy, he’s sent back to the royal family, where he proceeds to take a bre- proceeds to start studying even harder. (Obi-Wan has no chill)

Obi-Wan doesn’t take a break from studying combat, magic, politics, diplomacy, etc. (and becoming a pretty good dragon rider) until basically a few years later when Quinlan graduates from the academy’s full program and shows up to get Obi-Wan drunk. Obi-Wan’s servants quickly pull every favor they have in the palace to get Quinlan hired as Obi-Wan’s aide

Obi-Wan convinces Quinlan that he needs more experience in the real world, and that he needs to prove himself capable by his own abilities, not just the royal name. Quinlan agrees to help Obi get the experience so long as Quinlan comes along

Thus they begin their careers as errant knights

They gain a reputation for bad luck/chaos, and so eventually are only hired/requested when everyone’s sure some mission will go to hell anyways, in which case they’re very good at getting out of things in the best case scenario

During this time they also meet a certain disguised person from a certain royal family in a tavern and Obi-Wan of course flirts and tries to drink the man under the table

After a few years of this, with a few scattered months of being recalled home to the palace or sent to help protect a border from his father, Obi-Wan is called back to the palace again

It’s now that Obi-Wan finds out he has been promised to a neighboring kingdom’s crown prince to diffuse tensions, as there were two neighboring kingdoms seeming to be preparing to make a move. Obi-Wan getting married off to one prevents that kingdom from being able to attack and gets their support to help make the third kingdom back off

Obi-Wan is back for less than a week before he’s being sent off to his new life, which isn’t actually enough time to come to terms with his life getting completely uprooted and him apparently no longer being allowed to serve his kingdom how he planned to/was tying most of his identity to

Obi-Wan arrives at his new home the day before the wedding, and does not see his husband until part way through the wedding ceremony where they both take off their ceremonial veil/headpieces that covered their faces, revealing the man from the tavern

Crown prince Cody does not insist on having sex, although the are required to share a bed, and thus begins Obi-Wan’s somewhat awkward attempts to adjust to his new life

Obi-Wan attempts to be a perfect husband/married in royal, polite, keeping quiet, not causing trouble

He thinks that things are going well, and that he’ll be able to have a perfectly proper, tolerable life until he overhears his husband and a few of his brothers complaining about how distant and cold Obi-Wan apparently is, and how it seems like Obi-Wan’s birth kingdom didn’t really want the marriage

Obi-Wan runs away to the stable where his dragon is being kept, and stays with her for a while, cuddling up against he warm belly

He stays like that until he hears someone enter the stables and reflexively hides. Cody comes over to Obi-Wan’s dragon and takes care of her for a bit, checking her over and petting her and giving her a snack. Obi-Wan’s dragon clearly likes Cody (yes the dragon is Obi-Wan’s lightsaber, why do you ask?) and given the kind way Cody treats her, Obi-Wan can’t really blame her

Obi-Wan, after a night or two to settle himself down, decides to make a concerted effort to actually being a good husband by his new family’s standards

He invites Cody to tea, which is awkward until Obi-Wan switches the subject from personal matters to the latest political/governance problem. He shows up at the training arena more, until he runs into a few of the other princes and gets to spar with them a few times. He shows off a few magic tricks to the curious youngest prince Boba, when the boy finds him in the library

The princes seem to respond in kind, inviting Obi-Wan to things and being very friendly and affectionate, especially physically, which Obi-Wan’s not used to

The day Obi-Wan sasses something at Fives that leaves the man sputtering is Cody’s “oh no” moment, not that Obi-Wan realizes that the funny look Cody’s giving him is his husband trying to refrain from kissing him

Cody starts actually trying to court Obi-Wan after that, not that Obi-Wan does more but obliviously accept the attention, not even suspecting that Cody’s feeling more than a slight increase in respect and friendship for a few months

And then Obi-Wan gets word that King Qui-Gon Jinn has died

Obi-Wan is able to convince his new family to let him go back for the funeral with a well-guarded but small (and therefore fast) retinue, which includes Rex and Wolffe (? Probably? Another brother who is very competent and is not Cody, because crown prince)

The funeral is somber and formal and very much unlike Qui-Gon Jinn, and Freemor’s coronation is smooth and as simple as a royal coronation can be. Obi-Wan gives Freemor a thoughtful coronation gift and leaves. Rex and Wolffe have also come to understand what made Obi-Wan who he is much better and are very much planning on telling Cody and their brothers

A few months go by in which Obi-Wan finds himself falling for Cody more and more, and feeling guilty because he’s decided that Cody is only looking at him as a good friend now. Cody meanwhile is a bit frustrated by his new and improved seduction strategy both clearly working and not being enough to get Obi-Wan to make a move

Before Cody can act on a decision to just kiss Obi-Wan himself, Obi-Wan gets word that Freemor has died in an “accident”

This time, the kingdom is getting ready for harvest, so they can’t afford to let Obi-Wan go back. Obi-Wan sends a letter of condolences and sends an equally appropriate but far less thoughtful gift to Xanatos for his coronation

A year and a half later, after getting the kingdom through two winters very successfully, Obi-Wan finally confesses to Cody that he’s fallen in love with Cody, even though they had agreed to be political partners at the beginning. Cody (who had backed off on the seduction after Freemor’s death) responds enthusiastically

As they’re settling into their new relationship and dealing with much teasing, Quinlan Vos breaks into the palace (much to the chagrin of prince Fox, captain of the royal guard) and informs Obi-Wan that Xanatos has quickly proved to be a tyrant who can’t handle/care about running the country well enough to keep people from starving, putting most of the budget towards himself and the army

Obi-Wan… can’t exactly depose Xanatos. Even though he was third in line, he gave up those rights when he married the crown prince of another country. And the more distant relatives, while not as cruel as Xanatos, are in no way good candidates for the throne

The obvious solution, the Fetts decide, is to invade the country and take it over. Obi-Wan can’t really find a good argument since all the planning involves trying to keep civilians out of the line of fire

Usually, taking over a mountain region is very difficult, especially if you’re from a coastal trading kingdom. But they have Obi-Wan there to give them all the information they need

They spend the winter planning and begin to prepare, get everything ready after winter, and march in mid-spring

By the end of the summer, most of Xanatos’s army is defeated, or defected once they realized their royal prince/Ben the errant knight is trying to save the country with his new people

There’s some cool epic battle where Obi-Wan breaks the siege at the capital where Xanatos is holed up by flying him and Cody and a few others on dragons straight into the throne room/castle

Obi-Wan fights Xanatos as two sword mages, but Cody gets in the killing blow, despite being injured/knocked out earlier in the fight

Xanatos is given the proper funeral for a disgraced noble, and the people in the capital throw a party (technically it’s a belated coronation celebration for their new King Jango Fett)

Cody and Obi slip away from the festivities to watch from afar, and start talking about plans on how to actually rule the new territory and help it out after all the damage Xanatos did to it

The conversation ends with Obi-Wan expressing that he’s looking forward to going home (which is the first time Obi-Wan’s called the Fetts’ kingdom home) and Cody takes a moment to get over his shock before kissing Obi-Wan as the fireworks start going off overhead

Have I ever told y’all that I write really long outlines, btw?

(Also, side note: King Jango has a somewhat strained relationship with most of his sons. He raised them with very high expectations and little praise, and would not give them any responsibilities he didn’t think they were ready for. This led to, among other things, an almost co-dependent kind of closeness between the brothers. Jango, however, is more of a jerk than a bastard in this AU, so when his younger brother Alpha came back from abroad he was able to beat some sense into Jango, literally and figuratively. Boba is significantly younger than the rest of them and is being raised much more properly, but Jango is still in the process of mending his relationships with his other sons)

#ask meme thing #arranged fantasy AU #Codywan #I'll write a quick bit of prose after lunch #Anonymous #look at least this outline was only like three and a half pages

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years ago

Text

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Twenty

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome to the end of our tale, everyone! Thank you so much for reading and enjoying over the years. I love you so much and appreciate you more than words can say. Here's to 2021, my friends! Ad Victoriam, and stay safe! Tagging @anonymouscosmos, @culturalrebel, @wrestlingfae, @toxiicpop, @mercy-and-malice, @deepkittycollecto, @nelba, @mechanicalism, @commandershepardshtole, @valkyriejack and @kovu-the-mythical-being. Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

Part Fifteen: The Litany Trial

Part Sixteen: Nice Try

Part Seventeen: Preparations

Part Eighteen: Divide And Conquer

Part Nineteen: Lucky

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains holiday celebrations, brief emotional distress and unprotected sex. Stay safe!]

Time seemed to pass both too fast and not fast enough.

Synths were accommodated, reprogrammed at their wishes or helped to adjust to their new lives. Doctor Amari and the rest of the Railroad had no shortage of work, and Desdemona eventually tapped MacCready and Cait to oversee their caravan logistics back to the Capital Wasteland.

"And the people of the Commonwealth slept soundly, for the greatest monster was gone." Nick had remarked, touching the brim of his fedora in a half-salute. The old detective quickly appointed himself as head of first impressions in Diamond City, making certain that no trouble befell any wayward synth that accidentally wandered in. There was still a lot of work to be done to repair the Broken Mask incident, after all.

New settlements sprang up overnight and while there may not have been total harmony, there was the sensation of the whole Commonwealth heaving a sigh of relief. Recruits flocked to the Minutemen and Brotherhood in droves as Piper's Publick Occurrences spread the word of their successful campaign against the Institute.

Commonwealth boogeyman decimated by combination effort: Brotherhood Of Steel and Minutemen join forces to save Boston from bodysnatchers!

Deacon had effortlessly deflected Piper every time she asked for an interview, the mysterious man more than content to keep the Railroad shadowy. The less everyone knew, the less they could tell, and that suited him just fine. "You did real good, Icebox. Helped a lot of people."

Elder Brandis sought approval to establish a permanent outpost at the Boston airport ruins, the former paladin keen to send the Prydwen back to the Capital Wasteland. "Oh the Prydwen's a fine ship, but put me in the field any day!" The airship, once a proud symbol of the Maxson reign, now served little purpose aside from blocking the sun on occasion. Scribes laughed and played in the massive shadow, kicking up dust until the circle where the litany trial had taken place was nothing but a memory.

X6-88 had floundered for several weeks, the courser falling into a depressive slump that not even Curie could rouse him from. Oddly enough, it was Preston who ended up being able to haul him out of the darkness, the lieutenant making a point to visit the courser to drag him from his room for target practice and other low-effort patrol duties. "Sometimes all folks need is a hand, General."

The courser went on to reluctantly take the role of defective defector, working as a consultant to the Minutemen to help ward off any future attacks by desperate coursers or Institute scientists. Preston found his input invaluable, and the duo could often be found in the lieutenant's quarters poring over threadbare maps and trading tactical information. Preston also seemed to have a calming effect on the synth hunter, helping to blunt some of the cold steel edge that X6 had honed his entire life. Add on to that the constant caring presence of Curie, and they made a strange but surprisingly effective trio.

With the new supply line firmly established between the verdant utopia of Starlight Drive-In and Oberland Station, the strain of the prior lean months finally eased a bit. Faces grew less pinched even with the increased burden of the synths, and many settlers began to tentatively plan for a small celebration in the beginning of the winter.

"'The Holidays' is what they been callin' it, real simple and succinct. Some freaky hodgepodge of everyone's traditions. I guess a lot of folks on that fancy director's board also celebrated around this time of year. Not that the synths would know, naturally." Hancock had muttered, his expression sour. "Poor bastards always workin', and they ain't got fuckall to show for it. Seems like a shit deal."

Elder Brandis granted Danse an extended leave of absence after the toppling of the Institute without the paladin even requesting it, the large man dumbfounded for a moment upon receiving the news.

"If you're up for it, I could use a hand back at Sanctuary." Vega had grinned up at him, her eyes squinting a little under the force of her smile. "A lot of prep work goes into a holiday, after all."

...

Danse had taken it upon himself to retreat from Shaun's previous bedroom when he accompanied Vega and her son back to Sanctuary. He debated heavily on returning to the airport; after all, there was no real reason for him to stay in Sanctuary Hills, at least none that he dared to dwell upon. The few small projects that Vega had to manage were easily accomplished and he was left a bit lost in the wake of the excess of his leave.

Vega, however, had begun framing in what was once the carpark for her house. Sturges helped of course, and once Danse caught on he was touched by the gesture.

"I don't want you to feel like there isn't room for you just because Shaun is back." Elizabeth had said, lugging a chunk of scrap metal from the wreckage of her car.

The paladin had to take a moment, claiming sawdust in his eye as the culprit.

Now Danse lived in the area she had partitioned off for him, uncertain if he still believed he was intruding. Those thoughts were troubling, because if he could get comfortable…

What if Vega eventually decided that Shaun needed a father and what if...what if she chose a real man? Really real, not a sham like Danse was. And if she did, what man would permit Danse to stay? What real man would permit a synth that was currently entangled by these...human emotions to remain on their property, even if Danse proved he wasn't a threat?

What man would believe him if he claimed to have no interest in Vega? Hell, Danse didn't even believe himself.

But he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay. He wanted to tell Elizabeth...well, there were a lot of things he wanted to tell her.

His silence was more of a burden each day, and Danse knew he must seem sullen. It gnawed at him; it felt like lying every time he choked the words back down because it wasn't the right time or he just didn't know what to say, and he didn't trust himself not to say something foolish.

He decided he would wait until after the holiday gathering. Whatever the verdict was, it shouldn't take away from the joy she was clearly feeling over the festivities. So Danse threw himself into helping Sturges, Mama Murphy and the Longs around Sanctuary.

Secretly making a toy truck for Shaun had been a painstaking process fraught with peril. Mainly because Danse was somewhat indelicate and carving tiny wheels had never been his area of expertise. Oh certainly, he could build a survival camp with nothing but a combat knife and time, but a toy...

The paladin had spent countless hours creating prototypes in his cobbled-together room as he pondered the path he should take, sometimes working into the wan light of the morning. He eventually showed the truck to Jun, immensely fearful that Shaun might not enjoy the toy. Danse couldn't recall his own interests when he had been Shaun's age, and thus fell back on the other man's expertise.

"It looks good! Sand the wheels a little more, maybe give it a coat or two of paint." Jun praised the pensive paladin, turning the vehicle over in his hands to examine it. "Kyle loved these kinds of things y'know, trucks and trains and little toy boats." His gaze grew distant for a moment, the rough plaything stilling in his grasp. "Marcy thinks she's pregnant." He said abruptly.

"Pregnant?" Danse repeated without meaning to, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

Jun nodded jerkily. "It's been three months now. She's scared, Mr. Danse, real scared. Thinks something bad will happen."

"What can we do?" The paladin asked sharply.

Jun gawked up at him, seeming confused. "We?"

"I am unfamiliar with this process. What needs to be done?"

"I...I don't follow, Mr. Danse."

"To simplify the duration! What precautions can I-"

"Whoa, hang on." Jun protested. "We aren't sure if the general will even let us stay here with an extra mouth to feed. I've been trying to figure out how to bring up the subject." He admitted.

"You haven't even told General Vega yet?!" Danse squawked.

"W-Well, no! I figured maybe we would...we'd see how the winter went and play it by ear." Jun mumbled, seeming defensive.

Danse seized the other man's arm, heedless of his protests as he hauled him across the front lawn to Vega's abode. Today was the day that Vega had planned to sort through decorations; there were many left over from the fall holiday the Commonwealth had been preparing to celebrate before...well, time had stopped for most when the bombs fell, it was understandable that faded pumpkins and skeletons would still grace crumbling walls with their orangey-cream presence.

Vega looked up from the veritable pile of brittle, salvaged decor in confusion when Danse barged into their...her home, the paladin immediately halting and offering a sharp salute. "Danse! I...uh, what's wrong?"

"Mr. Long has something he needs to discuss with you immediately." Danse informed her, tugging the other man forward.

"I-I...er, General, you…" Jun struggled to speak, twiddling his fingers wildly. "M-Marcy--"

"What's wrong, Jun? Is she okay?" Vega asked, getting to her feet and shooting Danse a worried look. "Did something happen?"

"B-Baby." Jun squeaked. "Pregnant."Backhand went still, her freckles stark against the fresh pallor of her face. "I'm sorry, General, I know we haven't discussed it beforehand a-and I know food's been better as of late...I-I guess she got enough nutrients and got healthy enough for...er, well, you know." Mr. Long looked like he wanted to disappear into the ground. "We should have spoke to you sooner; I don't know if she can leave with the weather being--"

"Wh-Where are you going? Why leave, what?" Vega stammered, "Jun, you can't travel now, if something goes wrong-!"

"We weren't sure if you'd let us stay!" The thin man interrupted her frantically. "This is your base, after all, and you didn't sign on for an extra person to worry about."

Vega inhaled deeply. "Danse, could you give me a minute with Mr. Long?" She requested, her voice suspiciously even.

Danse obeyed, closing the front door gently and meandering a pointed distance down the main thoroughfare so as not to eavesdrop. He had a relatively good idea of how the conversation would go, despite Jun's misgivings. So he wandered down to the huge tree at the end of the cul-de-sac, fiddling with the truck in his pocket absently as he stared upwards at the barren branches.

"Y'know kid," Mama Murphy piped up from her customary chair on her porch and the paladin turned to face her, giving the elderly woman his full attention. "When I had the Sight, I saw this place. Sanctuary." She nodded in the direction of the river, then gestured upwards. "The bridge, and this tree. Massive and old, worn out from all those years." She cocked her head, giving Danse an appraising look. "The tree though, it was...covered in lights. Like what you see in the pre-war mags. The Holidays, shinin' like a beacon of hope at the end of the tunnel."

Danse hummed, the vaguest beginnings of an idea taking root in his mind. He couldn't bring Vega's old life back, but maybe...maybe he could bring something from it back to her. Like what you see in the pre-war mags.

"I think you're pickin' up what I'm puttin' down, kid." Mama Murphy's smile was knowing, the old woman reaching over to pet Dogmeat. The dog seemed to materialize out of thin air sometimes! "Now get to it."

...

Backhand was already scurrying around the kitchen when Danse rose on the morning of the Holiday celebration, the paladin pausing only momentarily to yawn in the doorway before sleepily offering his assistance. "Is there something I can help with, Vega?"

"Uh, Sturges, he said something about you and stuff from Goodneighbor, I think?" Elizabeth replied, obviously preoccupied with whatever she had in the semi-functional oven. Danse nodded, trudging across the kitchen to tug on his boots by the door.

Shaun bounded out of the bathroom, his face still damp from his morning wash. "Oh, can I help too? Please Mom, let me help Mister Danse and Mister Sturges!" He begged.

"You'd better stay right where Danse and Sturges can see you." Backhand instructed him sternly, one oven-mitted hand gesturing to indicate the gravity of the situation. "Otherwise you're coming straight back inside. Go put on your warm coat."

Shaun cheered in delight, racing back to his room.

"It's okay that he's with you two, right? I know he's not your responsibility." Backhand continued in an undertone to the paladin.

Danse's throat tightened and it took him a moment to respond, "I don't mind at all. He's a very well-behaved child."

"Let me know if he's an issue and I'll bring him back inside. I just need to get this done and the oven is being all-"

Danse stood up and placed his hands on her shoulders, deliberately schooling his expression into something more stern. "General, you're doing a fine job. Stop worrying."

"Am I? Shit, I really hope so." Elizabeth mumbled, tipping her forehead until it rested against his chest. Danse prayed she couldn't hear his heart, hammering merely from her proximity. God, his body was nothing but an embarrassment waiting to happen. "I've never really done this crap. Not sure if I'm cut out for it."

The momentary respite was broken when Shaun reappeared in his oversized flannel and oilcloth jacket, the child bolting past the two adults to put on his boots. Danse reluctantly released Backhand, noting how flushed her face was but not really daring to dwell on it. "I'll...I'll watch him." The paladin said, his voice a bit stilted. "I promise."

"Thank you." Backhand mumbled, wiping her eyes and then returning to coddle…whatever it was in the oven.

"Ready, Shaun?" Danse asked the boy, who nodded rapidly and extended a hand.

The snow outside was still fresh from the night before and Danse took a moment to appreciate the view of the Commonwealth covered in a thin layer of white. Off in the distance, the towering crimson insignia of the Red Rocket gasoline station stood stark against the backdrop of the gray sky. Even further down the road slumbered the empty shell of Concord, the tallest of the town's dilapidated buildings only just visible from the paladin's position.

Shaun tugged at his hand, pulling his attention back to the present. "Mister Danse, Mister Sturges is waiting for us!" The child announced, waving up at the engineer who was currently settled into a crook of the brittle branches that graced the tree on the cul-de-sac island. "Hi Mister Sturges!"

"Howdy fellas! Come to give me a helpin' hand?" Sturges called, grinning down at the two of them.

"What assistance can we offer?" Danse queried, wary that the other man might suggest Shaun climb up to him. His fears were quickly allayed when Sturges instead asked Shaun and Danse to begin untangling the long strands of old lights.

Hancock and his ilk had arrived from Goodneighbor, bearing the gifts of dubious treats and many, many mangled strings of lights. Goodneighbor had always been drenched in neon, after all, so Danse had assumed the ghoul mayor would be the best person to call upon for aid. It would appear that Hancock had delivered in spectacular fashion.

"With your help, we'll have this place lookin' pretty as a picture in no time!"

…

Maybe she had bitten off slightly more than she could chew, trying to cook a traditional dinner. Backhand sighed, glumly poking at the cold poultry with a wooden spoon. Her cooking skills had never been much to write home about in the first place, and this only served to solidify that fact.

"Oh Mum, I'm so sorry. The old oven just isn't how it used to be." Codsworth commented, his mechanical voice tinged with melancholy.

"It's not a big deal, Codsworth. I hate to waste the food, that's all." Backhand muttered, assuring herself that she wasn't fighting back frustrated tears, her eyes were just tired. "Damn thing didn't even get to the warm phase."

"Mum, if I might suggest…?" The robot started hesitantly, carrying on when she nodded. "Perhaps it can be salvaged. After all, we make bread in that same pan by tucking it beneath the hot coals out front. What do you say, shall we give it a go?"

"Got nothing to lose, right?"

"It will be just fine, Mum! You're an adaptive sort." Codsworth remarked, drifting out the front door to stoke the usual cooking fire to life once more. "Indeed, just fine!" He called.

Vega shook her head ruefully. "Oh I'm sure." The woman grumbled. "Can't cook and comes with baggage. What a catch ol' Vega is." At least the bread had come out well, in spite of the brisk weather. She could thank whoever for that small favor.

Once Codsworth had coaxed the embers to life in the fire pit, Elizabeth bundled up and brought the still-cold cast-iron pot outside. Maybe it had been wishful thinking to believe that the oven portion of her stove would still work. Or even heat at all. It had been promising earlier in the week, but this might be a blessing in disguise. If the whole house had gone up due to a cooking malfunction...well, the holidays wouldn't be too happy then, would they?

"Please cook." She begged under her breath, troweling hot coals onto the battered dutch oven lid. "I need this, y'know? Just a little victory, that's all I'm asking for here."

"Shall I get started on the tatoes, Miss Vega?"

Elizabeth nodded, only half-listening to Codsworth. She knew she would have a good forty five minutes to an hour to wait, and it wasn't as if it was colder outside than it was inside. The joys of semi-functional heating!

Vega shook her head at herself after a second, since when did she dwell on everything that Sanctuary wasn't? At the end of the day, it was her home. She wouldn't trade it for the world, and she knew she had much more than most people.

At that thought, her gaze wandered to where Danse and Shaun were. The larger man had Shaun on his shoulders while he patiently unwound a massive bundle of flickering string lights. Shaun, for his part, was passing the untangled lights up to Sturges. The engineer slid down the ladder so he could reach the child, looping the lights over his arm before climbing back up and painstakingly placing them in the gnarled grasp of the tree's limbs.

The manufactured cheer that the lights had given off pre-war was still somewhat there, though the radiant colors were washed out to pastel and the warm whites had gone dingy gray. Instead of it being a melancholy reminder that her life had changed irreparably, Backhand was overcome with gratitude. For her son's safe return, regardless of his synthetic makeup, and for the man who was currently carrying Shaun on his shoulders. For her home, for her family.

A family.

Perhaps she was getting a little ahead of herself. After all, Danse was still adjusting to life in ordinary time. It would be selfish of her to voice her feelings to him while he was coming to terms with everything that had happened. For better or for worse, their lives were different now.

It ought to be enough that he was in her life at all. She should be content. His presence alone was a miracle; for all intents and purposes he should be dead. Yet there he was, mere feet away, helping to brighten up the holiday celebration.

Tonight there would be a multitude of visitors. God only knew how many would arrive from settlements near and far, to say nothing of Goodneighbor, Diamond City, the Prydwen and the Castle! It would be an incredibly busy evening for certain. Hancock had arrived early with a posse of ragtag drifters from Goodneighbor, all of them offering gifts of food or scavenged ornaments to decorate. Hence the massive mound of lights that was currently being diligently sorted through.

The aforementioned ghoul appeared to have delegated the task of quality checking the lights, as his form currently leaned against the faded blue siding of her house. With cigarette smoke wafting from his mouth and nasal cavity in equal amounts, he seemed content to just watch the chaos unfold.

"Aren't you a little chilly?" Backhand queried, raising an eyebrow. The mayor was still clad in his usual garb of...for lack of a better term, repurposed period dress. Granted it wasn't seasonably cold out, at least not like how she remembered it being before the bombs dropped.

"Nah, we ghouls run pretty warm. Ham's like a portable space heater." Hancock answered, giving her a lazy grin. "Cute of you to worry, though. I must be growin' on ya'."

"Whoa there, let's not get too crazy."

"Whatcha' think, General?" Sturges shouted from his perch, waving to get her attention.

Danse turned in place, appearing to realize that she was watching as his hands flew up and grabbed Shaun's legs, stabilizing the small boy on his shoulders.

Backhand couldn't keep from smiling when she called back, "it looks wonderful! Keep up the great work!"

"That ain't the only thing that looks wonderful, right Sunshine?" Hancock snickered, rolling his eyes at the now-sputtering woman. "You better give the Brave Little Toaster the ride of his life, that's all I gotta' say."

"Hancock!" Vega hissed, making a half-hearted swipe at the mayor. "You fuckin'--"

"Ah ah, little pitchers!" Hancock scolded, tilting his head to the side to draw Vega's attention to the rapidly-approaching form of Duncan, MacCready's son. "Gotta' watch that mouth of yours, Sunshine."

"This ain't over, ya' raisin-lookin' bastard." Backhand snarled under her breath, pasting on a friendly smile for Duncan while Hancock wheezed with laughter. "Hey bud, how's things?" She greeted the child, who grimaced.

"Dad's kissin' Miss Cait again. S'gross." The little boy announced, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"That does sound pretty gross." Hancock piped up before Backhand could reply. "But you like seein' your old man happy, right? The lady makes him happy. Simple as that."

"Yeah, I guess. Can I play with Shaun?" Duncan asked Vega, eyes wide as he seemed to take in the tree covered with lights.

"Go ahead, kiddo! Just be careful and stay away from Sturges' ladder." Elizabeth warned, grinning when the little boy took off with a whoop.

Cait and MacCready strode up after a moment, both of them red-faced. MacCready bent double, his hands on his knees. "I'm not built for these bullsh--awful conditions." He panted. "I don't know how the kid does it. He was nearly dead a few months ago and now he's out here kicking the snow in the a--er, butt."

Backhand glanced around, and then snorted. "You call this snow? It's a dusting. Back before-"

"Ah ah, easy now Mumsicle, we ain't got time for yer trip down memory lane." Cait teased. "Work to be done, aye? C'mon then, General, shape up. What you doin' on the ground anyway, all crouched like a mother hen broodin'?"

"I'm cooking." Vega replied tersely.

"Oh aye? Looks like yer shirkin' t' me, love. Codsy can manage that mess, c'mon." Cait seized her elbow, levering her up out of the snowy grass. "Now, what needs doin'?"

...

The day was a whirlwind of arrivals, preparations and well wishers. Elder Brandis even stopped by briefly, taking precious time away from his all-consuming duties to distribute some useful supplies and catch up on the gossip.

The Diamond City trio graced Sanctuary with their presence shortly before noon, Nat scurrying off to play with Duncan and Shaun while Piper made a beeline for Hancock's merry band. Nick was more keen to meander around the outskirts of the groups forming, amber eyes taking in his surroundings.

Preston appeared midafternoon with X6, Curie and the entire O'Brian clan in tow, later than expected but apparently they had stopped to help out a settlement along the way.

The cul-de-sac soon rang with the laughter of the rambunctious children; even little Siusan was permitted to briefly toddle about in the trampled snow under the watchful gaze of Eamon. The weather was chilly but the sun had broken through the clouds throughout the day, sending momentary waves of brilliance across the Commonwealth.

Every table and chair that could be salvaged had been assembled on the old foundation at the end of the cul-de-sac, and it was there that the adults began to gather as the sun set. Metal drums loaded with wood were lit, providing heat and illumination to the many guests of the Commonwealth's first official potluck dinner.

"Or rather," Piper amended, clearing her throat with a touch of self-importance as she tapped her notepad, "the first documented official potluck dinner."

The large tree twinkled and shone in the fast-approaching darkness, the occasional flicker or broken bulb doing little to diminish the cheer it provided. The food was distributed, Backhand's roast chicken disappearing without a hitch. The young woman couldn't help doing a mental dance of victory, delighted that Codsworth's quick thinking had saved that particular endeavor.

Vega found a place to sit somewhere in the middle of one of the many long tables, red from the praise of her companions and the persistent chill in the air. She got even redder when Preston loudly proclaimed a toast, to the General!, her lieutenant tipping his bottle and everyone else following suit.

"I remember when I first met the general, she was half-dead on her feet." Preston began the story, his smile fond. "Sturges couldn't even believe our luck. Hell, none of us could. When freedom called, our general answered!"

Backhand, who had lived the story and knew all the ins and outs, found her attention wandering to Danse while Preston regaled the crowd with his tale. The paladin seemed to be listening closely, his meal forgotten. Deacon even began to thieve bits of chicken and tato out from beneath his nose, the Railroad agent shooting Vega a sly wink over his sunglasses.

Backhand shook her head at the other man's antics, then focused her attention on Preston. "...'Lurk queen, a huge, mean seabug, taken out by landmines! The Castle was ours once again, and we all had General Vega to thank for it." The lieutenant stated firmly. "The one who can get things done in the Commonwealth, the one who gave folks hope when it was in mighty short supply. We uh, we owe you a lot, ma'am." He raised his bottle once more. "To General Vega, leader of the Minutemen!"

"To Elizabeth!" Hancock yelled, echoed by half the damn populace as Vega tried to wave it off, the young woman laughing awkwardly. "To our Sunshine, the hero of the Commonwealth!"

"Synth savior, a regular knight in shining armor." Deacon teased.

"Well done, General Vega." Danse said warmly, "I can't know for certain whether the Brotherhood itself would be proud, but I certainly am." His praise for whatever reason made Vega's blush feel like it would scorch her skin.

Oh she knew damn well why, she was just being willfully oblivious at this point.

"Speech! Speech! Is that not zee norm for zis sort of occasion?" Curie called, the diminutive synth currently sharing X6-88's coat as well as his plate of food. X6 didn't seem to have any reservations about the matter, his arm slung around her shoulders without a care in the world.

Much to Vega's chagrin, the majority appeared to be in favor of such a vocal endeavor. She attempted to laugh off the suggestion to no avail, and finally got to her feet. "Alright, alright, settle down. I'll say a few words if it'll get you all off my damn back." She grumbled, her body thoroughly warm now with a combination of embarrassment and gratitude. "I uh…"

Vega trailed off as she looked out over the ragtag gang of expectant faces staring back at her. So many friends and neighbors, finally getting the chance to breathe. The chance to celebrate the fruits of their labor...it was sobering.

"I can't thank you all enough for...well, for everything that you've done. You all sacrificed so much for this peace, stuff I could never imagine doing even before the bombs dropped." She cleared her throat. "My mentor, Sergeant Shaun Cathan, was a great man, and he often had some very succinct or choice words which I'm not about to repeat in polite company."

"Aw c'mon-!" Zeke began to protest loudly, his voice fading as he noticed the small gaggle of children still gawking at his power armor.

Backhand continued, her jaw set firmly, "but one thing I can say that he told me is this: a leader who permits their pride to impede their decisions is doomed to failure. Pride built the Institute, and that same pride rotted it to the core. Pride built the Brotherhood of Steel, the Minutemen, and we've seen the both of them nearly toppled." Vega clenched her fist. "Pride brought nuclear fire down on Boston, but people hauled themselves outta' the ashes of that fire. Good people, tough people. Folks I knew. Folks I cared for, even if some of 'em did spend a little too much time on the Cape. If pride can do so much effin' harm, I expect simple compassion and decency to do just as much good. Hell, more than that. Humanity's built itself back up after the cluster that was armageddon, and we ain't through yet."

She tipped the jar she had been drinking out of towards the crowd, sternly studying the collection of scavengers, families both new and familiar.

...

"So here's to you, my friends. To all that you've done, and to all that you will do."

Vega's salute was rigid, pre-war. Like her helmet on the table beside her, scraped and covered in faded sigils. The mixture of candlelight and the lights on the tree reflected off the worn lenses of her glasses, shielding her eyes from view. Danse wished desperately that he could see her eyes; more than anything he wished to stand up and flat-out state what she had done for him to every soul there, display his...admiration.

Was that even the right word? Admiration, adoration, affection--

His face was strangely warm all of a sudden. Danse flinched, staring down at his mug of coffee with single-minded intent as the buzz of conversation around him picked back up. His mind raced, pieces falling into place in a nigh-unstoppable rush.

Affection. Like...what he had felt for Cutler? Almost. A little to the left of that. Brighter.

Happier.

Not perfect, nothing could ever be perfect. But...

"Elizabeth Vega?" A male ghoul's voice barely penetrated the paladin's consciousness, his words not really registering until, "Beth, it really is you!" The ghoul exclaimed. "I thought I was crazy! It's me, Beth. It's Nate."

"...Nate?"

Danse's head whipped up so fast his neck popped in warning, the paladin having been only tangentially aware of the conversation happening mere feet away from his position. But at that particular nickname his entire being snapped to attention, eyes darting sidelong from where he had been intently studying his mug of coffee.

The ghoul man that Vega was currently speaking to was an inch or two taller than her, with a single tuft of dark hair that still remained over his left ear. He appeared absolutely delighted, but Vega seemed...wary.

"Beth," Danse heard him say once more, and he watched Backhand visibly tense. "I never thought I would see you again! After the bombs dropped--I mean how the hell did...is that Shaun? God, he got so big!"

"Nate, is there something I can do for you?"

Nate.

Danse's breath caught in his throat and his mouth went dry. Nate? Nate her ex-husband from before the war? Nate, the man who had divorced her once he found out she was pregnant with his child?

Somehow he had managed to survive?

Oh, what an incredibly bitter thing to think! Danse was somewhat startled by his own dark path of reasoning. But it wasn't untrue; his mind railed at the unfairness of it all.

The paladin stood up, his mug of coffee forgotten. He wasn't exactly certain what he was about to do, but he also wasn't going to do nothing. He cast around wildly for a plan as he approached Elizabeth from behind around the table, and Danse latched onto what was probably the least intelligent course of action that he could have conjured up.

"Elizabeth," the paladin called, loud enough to be heard over the general hubbub. She turned and Danse briefly spied a look of intense relief on her face before he enveloped her in his arms. "You appeared cold, figured I could warm you up a bit." He reasoned aloud, smiling benignly over her head at Nate. "Who's this?"

Vega began to introduce him even with her face still comically buried in Danse's chest, "Nate, I'd like you to meet-"

"Paladin Logan Danse, Northeastern chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel." Danse interrupted her smoothly, extending a hand to Nate. "I've heard a great deal about you, Nate. It's a privilege to meet you, and a welcome surprise to see that you endured the radiation."

"Uh, is it? Well I-I guess it is." Nate looked flummoxed and crestfallen all at once, glumly shaking Danse's hand. "I suppose you two are, er..."

"Vega is my partner, yes. For over a year now." Danse replied once the other man had trailed off, his tone saccharine-sweet. He heard Vega gasp against his chest. "She is a truly incredible woman. I'm immensely lucky."

"Yeah, I...yeah. Uh, I have to go...talk to--I'll see you later, Beth." Nate squeaked, sidestepping away from the two of them and making a beeline for the road.

"I can't even believe it." Backhand's voice grated with tangible irritation. "I cannot even fuckin' fathom--I...dammit, why him?!" She seethed into Danse's jacket, clenching her fists on his hips. "Phew, boy, I sort of thought I'd already dealt with all that resentment." The woman admitted unhappily.

"You do things in your own time." Danse replied quietly. "Are you alright?"

Vega went still for a second. Danse felt her unclench her fists, hands going slack on his body. Had he misspoken-?

"In my own time, huh?" Vega muttered, almost like she was thinking out loud. "I...I'll be back in a little while, Danse."

…

I'm not panicking. Definitely not panicking. One hundred percent not panicking, totally fine.

Backhand scurried away from the paladin, trying to hide the tell-tale redness of her face. She needed to find either Mrs. O'Brian or MacCready, fast.

As luck would have it, MacCready found her. The former merc tapped on her shoulder as she bounced up on her tiptoes to search for Mrs. O'Brian. "Hey boss, Shaun wanted me to ask you if he could sleep over with Duncan tonight." The man began after she whirled around to face him.

"Yes." Vega replied, perhaps a little too quick and definitely too enthusiastic. "Mac you're a lifesaver, I was just about to ask-"

"-for me and Cait to watch your kid so you and the tin can can get some alone time?" MacCready smirked, giving her a wink. "Dang General, I don't think I've ever seen you so red! Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

"Shut up, Mac, you're so exasperating." Backhand jabbed a teasing finger into the center of his chest. "You talk, Mayor, and I'll know." The threat was toothless; the both of them grinned at each other after their fierce staring contest. "Thanks for everything."

"Don't mention it. I figure getting you some Brotherhood...uh, Steel, heh, is a pretty decent way to make up for the fact that I didn't bring you a present." Mac shrugged, fiddling with the bill of his hat. "I have beef with the Capital Brotherhood, but these guys...I mean, they don't seem all bad." He allowed grudgingly, giving Vega a gentle nudge with his shoulder. "Go on."

A bracing shot of whiskey shored up her tenuous spark of confidence and Vega marched back to Danse, the large man now engaged in conversation with X6 while Shaun, Duncan, Bridget, Nat and Matthew swirled around their ankles.

Danse was saying, "--collateral ramifications would be inadvisable, I suggest a soft breach. With adequate preparation-"

"Adequate preparation on your part borders on over-caution." X6 interrupted him dismissively. "However, I will take it into account and speak with Preston on the matter. He seems to share your morality. A pity."

"Play at the unfeeling machine all you want, X6." Danse retorted. "It does you no favors. You have people who care about you now, and you would not have asked for my input if you believed the endeavour would be futile."

"True enough, Paladin." The vaguest hint of a smile tugged at X6's mouth. "You are capable."

"I suppose that is the best that I can hope for."

"Hey, Danse? Can I uh, have a little chat?" Backhand asked, stifling a hysterical giggle when Danse immediately looked guilty. The paladin nodded, bidding X6 farewell and attempting to sidestep around the children who were currently playing tag in an ever-tightening circle. "Not um, here though. Let's go to my house, okay? Shaun, you're all set to stay overnight with Duncan, Mac and Cait, right?"

"Yeah!" Shaun replied breathlessly, pausing in his chase to give his mother a massive grin. "Already brought my blankets over and everything. Mister MacCready said Duncan and I could sleep in their wagon, and that he'd tell us Grognak stories!"

Danse's brow furrowed. "We are leaving the gathering, then?" He asked, looking a bit distressed when Elizabeth nodded. "A moment, please." He turned back to the children, calling for Shaun.

The boy bolted away from the group, skidding in the muddy slush. "Yeah, Mister Danse?" He asked, his impatience plain.

"I, er. I...happy holidays." The paladin mumbled, extracting a small bundle from his jacket pocket and giving it to the child.

"Whoa, for me?!" Shaun practically crowed, tearing through the old newspaper to reveal the gift.

It was a sturdy carved vehicle, its edges sleek and smooth. The wood was coated in shiny green paint, giving the little truck a distinct air of newness in this post-apocalyptic world. Danse swallowed audibly as Shaun stared down at the toy without saying a word.

Backhand closed her eyes, hoping and praying that the kid remembered his manners. She hadn't even known Danse had planned on giving him something. Did he make the truck himself? It was wood, not the usual plastic or aluminum of pre-war children's toys. When had he found the time to make a toy? She suddenly remembered his uncharacteristically wide yawn that morning and her eyes flew open, darting to look at Danse. He had been staying up, hadn't he?

"I love it, Mister Danse!" Shaun interrupted her mental panic with his enthusiastic eruption, smiling wide and bolting forward to hug Danse around the waist. Danse's own relief was evident, the large man patting the child on the back with an awkward chuckle.

Oh Jesus, I'm not going to cry, Vega insisted, taking a deep breath. Nope, won't do it.

"Mom look, look what Mister Danse gave me!" Shaun exclaimed, as if she hadn't been standing right there the whole time.

"It's really cool, right?" Backhand grinned, rumpling his hair and then giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Make sure you wash your face and brush your teeth before bed, okay? I hope you and Duncan have fun. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom, I will. Thank you again, Mister Danse!" Shaun rushed to say, clearly eager to return to his friends.

"Alright, go on." Vega tapped the end of his nose, "go have fun." She watched him scramble through the slush, nearly tripping again. "Jesus, he's a bull in a china shop," she sighed, making Danse snort. "Shall we, Paladin?"

He fell into step beside her, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket and his back ramrod straight. He was silent until they were actually in Elizabeth's living room, the young woman barely able to shut the front door before he started babbling, "if I offended you earlier, if I-I overstepped my bounds, I apologize. I just recalled what you had said about the name he used for you and I'm afraid I started moving before I could reconsider-"

"Danse, do you remember how we started all of this?" Vega cut off what promised to be a downright incredible justification, cocking her head to the side. "How we met, and what happened?"

"You came to our aid at the Cambridge police station. Then you carried on assisting me with our mission. You helped acquire the deep range transmitter. You greased my armor." Danse paused, fidgeting. "You...said it was alright if I wanted to kiss you."

“It’s alright if you want to kiss me, you know.” Her smile was gentle. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Vega nodded, smiling once more. "The offer still stands, naturally."

"I...things are different now. I'm different. You still...even now, after everything that you know about me?"

"Of course."

"I didn't want to believe you felt that strongly about our...about us." Danse was smiling, actually smiling! "I'd given up hope a long time ago that I would ever be enough for anyone. I was never...enough. Smart enough, or strong enough or...well, just enough, I suppose." He shrugged, his smile fading. "With what happened between Maxson and I, and previously with Cutler…" The large man trailed off.

Vega took a deep breath, nodding furiously. "I do feel strongly for you. Danse, I know that this is a lot, b-but I...uh, I think I love you." She gestured up and down at the speechless paladin, feeling the heat that bloomed fresh on her cheeks. "Not just the wrapping, y'know, but uh. The whole package. You."

His look of shock and confusion slowly dissolved into something unreadable, and he broke eye contact for a moment to stare down at his boots.

"Uh, it's okay if you don't reciprocate! O-Or even if you can't reciprocate, I'm not going to be offended!" Elizabeth rushed to add, waving her hands nervously. "I know that this is a lot to dump on you all at once, I-I'm sorry. I don't want you feeling pressured to give me an affirmative answer just because you don't want to hurt my feelings or whatever."

"I...I can't say that I haven't thought about it." He admitted softly. "But Shaun, he needs--Vega, I'm not really human."

"Neither is Shaun, but I don't love him any less." Elizabeth replied. "Shaun is my son. For all intents and purposes, he is my real son, Danse."

"It's one thing to overlook it for a child, Vega. But I'm...what if something goes wrong with me? What if there's some sort of fault in my programming, and that's why I'm like this? What if-"

"It's alright if you don't want me, or even if this is too much right now. I know, it's a lot." Vega interrupted him, her heart sinking but determined to make damn sure he didn't feel pressured.

"Christ, that's not what I meant. I just want to make certain you know exactly what it is that you're agreeing to." Danse cut her off, his shoulders rigid like he was bracing for impact.

"I understand, Danse. I've understood for a while now." Elizabeth dared to rest her hand on his arm. "I want to be with you. I know that nothing in this shitshow of a future is guaranteed and I want to have something good in my life before my inevitable demise at the hands of some overconfident mole rat."

Danse nodded stiffly, and then grabbed her by the lapels of her canvas coat. Vega found herself abruptly pinned against the wall, Danse's mouth hungrily seeking her own. "You mean that?" He panted.

The brush of the stubble on his face reminded her of their first kiss in the Cambridge station and drove home the differences between he and Nate for the hundredth time. Nate was always clean-shaven, favored pecks on the cheek and lived saturated with cologne. But Danse was grizzled, earnest, reeking of the outdoors and power armor grease. Nate had been eloquent, while Danse was taciturn or tripped over his words. Nate was cold and calculating, and Danse…

Danse was fiery and raw, more vulnerable now than she could ever recall him being before. His knee nudged against her thigh and without conscious input, Elizabeth parted her legs for it and threw her arms around his neck to try to urge him even closer. "Yes, Danse," she gasped. "Oh, Jesus, yes, fuck-ing shit--"

She ground herself down against his leg, relieved that everything seemed to be functioning normally and somewhat impressed by her body's ability to mount such a rapid response after a two hundred-plus year dry spell!

"Language," Danse rumbled in reply, his hands tugging her heavy coat off of her shoulders. "Too fast?"

"No, hell no!" Backhand protested, "not fast enough."

"Shh," Danse rested his hands on her hips, shoving up her shirt slightly so he could touch bare skin. "I have you, Vega." Vega pushed herself excitedly into his grip, grinding on his thigh and arching her back. The way his breath hitched sent shockwaves to her core; the way he watched her...

"Danse we should...we should-" Vega's voice wavered as Danse laved her throat with tender kisses. "-should--bedroom, bed."

"Yes." The paladin growled, making no move to actually follow the direction. That is, until he hoisted her up to rest on his hips.

Backhand yelped, her thighs gripping his sides tightly. "H-Hey!"

Danse pressed his forehead to her own, brown eyes attempting to read her soul. "Elizabeth…" he sighed, his expression gone hopelessly soft. "I should warn you, if we...if you do this, I...listen, I can be a little--a little wordy, sometimes. If I am speaking too much-"

"Hey, no, you talk as much as you'd like, okay? Doesn't bug me at all." Vega assured him, slightly curious about what this might mean. Wordy?

"Elizabeth, you are everything that I never knew I was looking for." Danse murmured. "When I lost Cutler, I didn't think I deserved to be happy again. I assumed that my failure would continue to darken any future triumph, and when the majority of Gladius was...I feared that I was unfit for my rank. How could anyone have faith in my skills after such a catastrophic loss of life?"

"It's hard being the one making the choices. You have to be able to bear the burden of responsibility and also the burden of guilt." Vega reasoned, sympathizing with his plight.

"You had faith in me, though. You didn't even know me, but you didn't judge me for my inadequacy and you allowed me some damn peace. I'm just sorry you had to go through that abuse at Maxson's whim for my sake." Danse cupped her hand in his own, pressing kisses to her scarred knuckles. "You've already done so much for me, Vega. Let me undo you?" He offered seriously, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Well, I uh, I-I can't say I've ever been propositioned quite like that!" Backhand stuttered, certain that her flush covered her entire body at this point.

His laughter, heard so rarely, washed over her like a tidal wave. "Forgive me."

"Only if you keep asking me to have sex like that." Vega shifted her hand in his grip, intertwining their fingers. "C'mon, bedroom."

"It's not just that." Danse tried to protest, shaking his head. "I care about you. About your wellbeing. I want to make you happy."

"You do. So happy. I'm so glad that you're here with me still." Vega turned in the doorway of her room when he set her down, seizing Danse by the collar of his worn t-shirt and tugging him into her arms. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Danse."

"You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that."

"It's the truth, though!" She insisted.

Danse surged forward, his kisses still rough and demanding as he fought to claim her affection. But she gave it freely, all he could ever want and more.

He stripped her of her shirt and dragged his own off over his head, chuckling at the way she greedily drank in the bare skin he presented. "See something you like, General?"

He was hairier than she was used to, but Backhand decided it suited him. Nate, after all, had been absolutely adamant that body hair was grotesque, and now look at him. He'd likely never have to worry about that again.

Thinking of Nate yet again put a frown on her face and Danse paused, giving her a quizzical look. "Is something amiss?"

"Oh! No, I'm sorry. I was just remembering. Nate was all…" Elizabeth gestured vaguely at Danse's chest. "He shaved everything. I'm not used to all...well, seeing so much."

"Is it off-putting? I assure you it's within the Brotherhood's hygiene guidelines, but if you don't like it I-"

"No, I love it. It's new. I've seen your arms, after all, I knew what I was getting into." Vega teased, grinning to ease his worry. "If you can accept all my stretch marks and leftovers, I can definitely handle your chest pelt."

"I'm planning on doing far more than accepting." Danse cradled her breasts in his palms, the paladin lowering his head to draw his tongue over one of her nipples. "I don't care." He soothed when Elizabeth tried to stammer out something else in regard to her stretch marks. "I don't care. It doesn't make you any less desirable to me, Elizabeth."

Vega squeezed her eyes shut, kissing his forehead as he continued to cautiously rouse her peaks until they were stiff and aching for more. Then his thumbs took over, stroking in slow, firm circles that made her quiver from head to toe. "You...you're really good at that." Elizabeth said faintly.

"I'm pleased you think so." Danse grunted when her fingers found his belt buckle. "It has been a significant amount of time for me as well, I...my excitement may be a bit obvious." He admitted, his smile sheepish.

Vega's breath caught in her throat, her hands trembling as she struggled to draw down the worn zipper of his jeans. The underside of his cock throbbed against her palm when she dared to slip her hand into his briefs, his skin searing and smooth.

Danse huffed out a breath, crumpling a little at her tentative touch. "Elizabeth," he groaned, hiding his face in her neck as he rolled his hips eagerly into her hand.

"Keep saying my name like that." She ordered, laughing when the paladin nodded rapidly into her shoulder. "I love you, Danse."

...

Danse rumbled again, words failing him while Elizabeth's fingers wrapped around his cock. This seemed like a dream, another one of his fantasies brought into being. He couldn't seem to do anything aside from stare down at her hand.

"Hey, Danse?"

He jerked to attention, eyes flying up to meet her own guiltily. "Y-Yes, Vega?" He stuttered.

"Do you...uh, y'know." Backhand fumbled to undo the button on her jeans. "You can, if you'd like." She finished awkwardly.

No sooner had she given him permission than Danse was pulling her hand out of his pants, urging her backwards onto her bed even as he kissed her battered knuckles again. "Yes." He grated out, kneeling to untie her boots so he could get her pants off. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes."

"A for enthusiasm, big guy." Elizabeth teased, lazily fingercombing his short hair back. Her veneer of composure was shattered when the paladin eased her underwear down her legs, the young woman covering her face as if she was embarrassed. "Listen, just uh, go easy on me. It's been over two hundred years, after all." She reasoned weakly.

Danse swallowed hard. Cutler had always praised his dirty talk, the calculated way he could take apart a person with his words and touch alone. Maxson hadn't appreciated his speech, granted, but perhaps…

"You're saying you don't want me to bury my fingers in you, Elizabeth? You don't want me to open you up, work my way into that beautiful, flushed little cunt of yours?" Danse rasped, two fingers tracing lightly on her pubic mound. Her cesarean scar was faintly visible, and he felt a brief flare of concern before recalling that was indeed where the scar was from.

"Oh, Jesus. Okay." Vega gasped, blue eyes wide in what Danse could only assume was shock. "Keep that up and you won't have to worry about using anything else. Fuck, Danse, have some pity here." She pleaded, burying her hands in her hair.

"Language. Do you deserve my pity? How would you earn it?" The paladin queried, the heel of his hand applying steady pressure to her mound now.

"I can be good, Paladin! I can be really good. So good." Her breathless use of his title had Danse's cock pounding, though he tried not to make it obvious. "Please Danse, please touch me…"

Danse climbed up onto the bed alongside her, gently parting her labia with his fingers. "You'll be good for me, Elizabeth?" He asked, propping himself up with an elbow.

"Yes, please."

She had wonderful manners. Danse grazed her clit and her breath stuttered, the paladin spreading the liberal lubrication that she had already created with deft, slow strokes of his index. "Please, what?"

"P-Please...Danse."

He cautiously eased one finger into her, exhaling raggedly when her hand sought out his cock. "Vega-"

"Shh, let me." Elizabeth hushed him, her smile a little dreamy as Danse crooked his finger and rubbed in just the right spot. "Oh, f-uck, Paladin, you--"

"Language, Vega. Can't have you being a bad example while I'm knuckle deep in your cunt." Danse admonished, groaning when she whimpered. "You're so tight, this could take ages. We'll need to come up with some stretches to cope with this." He teased gruffly, sliding in another finger and spreading her open. "Mm, Elizabeth, you need to relax. Relax." He murmured, latching onto her breast.

He felt her pussy clench down around his fingers and he took a greedy suckle from her breast, making Vega cry out his name, "Danse!" She twitched and writhed under his deft attack, her thighs quivering even as she tried to spread them wider for him. Her hand fell still on his cock, not that Danse minded. It had always been more about his partner, he couldn't care less if nothing was done for him. Watching someone else fall apart because of him...now that was its own reward.

"What do I need to do to get you there, hmm?" Danse taunted playfully, tonguing sloppily over the peak of her breast. "What will it take, Elizabeth?"

She arched her back in response, pressing her breast firmly against his mouth, and Danse gently nibbled on the sensitive area she had offered up. Elizabeth sobbed out, shoving one hand down to her cunt to spread herself even wider for his plundering fingers. "More, Danse! Please please please-" she begged, her moan when he pressed a third finger into her absolutely enough to have Danse hurrying to talk himself down. "Yes, Danse." She was practically growling, her arousal something primal and untamed.

If Danse had his way, it would stay like that forever.

"What is it that you want, Vega?" His inquiry was almost lazy, three fingers stroking in and out with much less resistance now. "Hmm, I wonder if you're wet enough to take me."

"You can't just-" Vega made a noise of dismay. "That's not fair, Danse, that's not fair, you know it's not. Please, please fuck me."

Jesus. Danse almost choked on his own breath, letting his fingers slip out of her cunt. "How do you want me?" His voice broke noticeably. It felt like a lifetime since he had been desired, wanted in such a blatant and strangely pure fashion. She loved him. She wanted him inside her. Wanted him to make love to her. Wanted him.

The speed at which she flung herself up a little higher on the bed made Danse want to laugh, but then she was arching her back and looking over her shoulder at him and he suddenly forgot how to breathe for a moment. "This okay?" She panted, brown hair all tumbled around her face as she took off her glasses and pitched them in the general direction of her bedside table.

Danse nodded hurriedly, kicking his pants off. "If you need me to stop, just grab my hand." He instructed.

"This isn't exactly my first time getting fucked, Danse-"

"Language," the paladin reprimanded her with a chuckle, greedily fondling her rear as he mounted up behind her. "You have such a beautiful form, Vega." He murmured, leaning over to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. "An absolute vision."

"I do have nice tits."

Danse rolled his eyes, slipping his hands down to grope said breasts. She gasped out, rocking back against him as he agreed, "yes you do, that can't be denied. Soft, the perfect size, they fit in my hands so well, and so sensitive." He found himself laughing when she whimpered again. "Don't offer up all your weak spots unless you want them taken advantage of, Vega."

"The only thing I want to take advantage of right now is the raging hard-on I can feel." Elizabeth wriggled and Danse grunted, shuddering. "Pl-ease Danse, please put it in me."

The paladin slipped his cock between her labia, the hot, slick flesh pressing against him mercilessly as he teased her. He suddenly felt her fingers on his cock and then-

"Fuck." The paladin grated out the uncharacteristic curse through his teeth, his fists meeting the bedding on either side of her body as he fought the urge to thrust himself home in one breath.

Elizabeth half-collapsed while he slowly, slowly rutted into her, the woman panting and clawing at the blankets. "Mmmgod, Danse-" she slurred, sighing loudly. "So good, fuck, Danse…"

Danse toyed with her nipples, stupidly snarling "language," as she keened in reply. "I'll take care of you, Elizabeth. Be good for me." He pressed a kiss to her temple, smirking at the way her body quaked when he finally bottomed out in her. "That's it, look at you, taking all of me so well," he praised. "Now, how can I make you come?"

"Fu--Please use your big cock to get me off, oh please Danse!" She begged and Danse fondled her breasts yet again.

"You don't want me to touch you here, just like this?" He asked, stroking over her nipples and lingering to tease the area. "They're so hard, though, begging for my attention."

Backhand made a noise of despair, burying her face in her pillow.

"I think you need me to play with them, don't you? You like when I touch them like this." Danse muttered, thinking out loud and coming to that realization even as the words left his mouth. "What is it about it that you like?"

"S-Sensitive." Vega whimpered, "feels good."

Danse rumbled again, bending over to press his chest to her back so he could whisper in her ear, "does it feel good when I'm inside you, Elizabeth? Can you feel how hard I am for you? Feel how badly I need you?"

Elizabeth gifted him this pitiful sound, canting her hips and clenching down around his cock so tightly it took Danse's breath away. "Yes, I love it. I need you too, Danse." She murmured, shifting back and forth ever so slightly.

"Good. I'm glad." Danse took hold of her hips, seating his cock as deeply as he could in her cunt. Elizabeth whined, burying her face in her pillow again as he slowly began to make love to her.

Paladin Logan Danse, pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, had never been a man who took sex lightly. It was too important. Even after everything that had happened with Maxson, Danse still held to that belief. The display of vulnerability, the offer of power in exchange for pleasurable release, the brief moments of tenderness in an existence that was soul-crushingly difficult…

It was serious. It always was.

Vega's arms gave out and she slumped onto the bed, but Danse followed her down. Covering her with his body, the paladin thrust into her again and again, her soft whimpers and cries of his name music to his ears. "What do you need, sweetheart?" He asked raggedly when she began to squirm and arch back against him. "What can I give you, Elizabeth?"

"Fuck me, Danse!" She pleaded, turning her head to the side so she could see him.

"Language," Danse smiled, kissing her temple again. "But understood, ma'am."

…

For the first time since she'd awoken to an irradiated hellscape, Vega was wholly content to just lay down and be taken care of.

Danse was huge, proportionate to his already overgrown size, and he made the most incredible sounds when she inadvertently squeezed down on him. Groans burring in his chest like some untamed animal; he seemed content to just slowly fuck her into oblivion. Which was honestly more than she thought she would ever get.

Her fantasies, much as she'd believed they were wrong or silly at the time, didn't hold a candle to the reality of having Danse on top of her. She had gotten off more than once to this exact idea, being dominated and pinned by the massive paladin. This was a dream come true.

Elizabeth whined when he bottomed out in her again and just rutted himself back and forth slightly, making her feel every inch of his cock. The underside of his dick throbbed against the spot that made her see stars and then, the bastard, he slid his cock out of her cunt to press the head to her clit for a second. "Turn over for me?" He requested, punctuated by a gentle smack to her ass.

Vega rushed to obey, eager to have him back inside her as quickly as possible. The woman spread her legs wide so Danse could settle in between them and when the paladin did, he shifted upwards to kiss her tenderly.

"I've wanted this for so long." He admitted quietly.

"So have I!" Elizabeth replied in delight, her grin beaming. She was sure she looked like a mess, her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat and her face all flushed. But the way Danse was smiling at her…

She found she didn't really care about her appearance at this point in time.

"I love you." Danse murmured as he slid back inside her.

"I l-love you, Danse." Vega stuttered, the natural curvature of his cock applying steady pressure to her g-spot. "Make me feel so good, fuck."

"Language." He growled, making her laugh and then moan.

"Feels too good, brain can't cope." She gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging him closer until all he could do was grind down into her in a merciless manner. The motion flung her towards her peak, disconnecting her mouth even further from her brain and making her ramble into his ear, "God, I love you so much, make me feel so good--"

"I love you too, Elizabeth." He panted into the hollow of her throat, "you feel incredible. Outstanding."

Elizabeth wasn't sure how she could feel both so aroused she thought she might die and so annoyed that she wanted to explode. "Danse, did you just call my pussy outstanding?"

"It's not an incorrect statement, from my perspective. It's perfect. Wet and tight and hot." The paladin praised her freely, a hand lowering to apply gentle pressure over the scar on her lower stomach. "Beautiful."

I am not going to cry, Vega told herself sternly as she hid her face in Danse's neck. Definitely not going to cry, not going to.

A sob somehow escaped her as she came and Danse froze, his whole body flinching when her cunt clenched down on his dick. "V...Vega?" He asked tentatively.

"I'm fine! I'm fine, I promise, m'not hurt or anything. My brain is just dumb." Elizabeth hiccupped, rubbing her eyes. "I'm okay, Danse, I'm fine."

The paladin seemed uncertain and she couldn't blame him, she didn't seem fine even if she felt a thousand times better than she had in literal months.

"I swear I'm okay, that was just...it was really intense, y'know?" She mumbled awkwardly, unable to make eye contact anymore.

She felt Danse shift his weight and then he settled down on top of her, holding her close and tight. "You're sure?" He murmured, "if you're overwhelmed, that's entirely acceptable. I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No, shit no, you feel incredible. I'm not going to be able to walk after this." Vega huffed, giggling a little when he rolled his eyes. "Keep going, okay? It feels fantastic."

"If you're certain." Danse acquiesced, kissing a hot trail down her neck when she nodded. "Let me know if you need me to stop."

Watching his forearms cord with muscle as he propped himself back up again, Vega's mouth went dry. "I have to say, this might be the best night of my life."

Danse pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead, the tenderness of the action a wonderful contrast to the needy way he sheathed his cock in her body once more. "I've thought about this." He confessed again, punctuated by a roll of his hips. "What you'd sound like, look like beneath me. You put my imagination to shame."

"What did I do in your dreams?" Backhand asked, unable to keep from breathlessly laughing when Danse hid his face in her neck. "So shy, Paladin! Even with that huge cock in me?"

"It's lewd, Elizabeth, I-I'm not proud of it." He mumbled. "Shouldn't have thought of you that way." He spread her legs wider, one hand on the back of each knee to urge her to bend.

"Mm, you thought about fucking me? Nice to know I'm not the only one with dirty thoughts."

"I did not." He protested staunchly. His cock slid back and forth between her pussy lips in a purposeful teasing motion. "I thought about how...I thought about how good it would feel to make love to you." He continued, his voice wavering slightly as his dick brushed her entrance and he plunged deep yet again. "Thought about how good I could make you feel."

Now it was Vega's turn to be shy, the woman looking away from him and flushing.

"It was still inappropriate at the...time, but I assure you it was never about that. I am not-" Danse struggled for a moment to find the words, before he sighed and rested his forehead against her own. "This already isn't simple, and I know I make it miles less so. Forgive me."

"I feel like it's pretty simple." Vega gasped, twitching as his fingers landed on her clit. "I f--fuck, Danse--I feel like it's real simple. You like me. Love me, yeah?"

"It's more than that, dammit." Danse growled, rubbing her clit in merciless circles. "What you did for me...how can I ever be worth your affection? Hell, your time?"

Elizabeth threw her head back, arching her entire body up into his chest. "Whatever good I give to you," she moaned, almost exasperated that they were even having this discussion, "you deserve it. Take it."

Danse's hands latched down on her hips, thumbs stroking back and forth over her pronounced stretch marks as he fucked into her so fiercely that Vega swore she saw stars. His pelvis ground against her own, body hair providing a delicious new sensation that had Vega grasping at the blankets in an effort to keep herself grounded. "I'm going to come, Elizabeth." Danse panted. "Where do you-"

"Inside." Backhand implored him, "come inside me, Paladin, please come inside me-" Her voice broke as she begged and Danse groaned loud, the sound incredulous.

"You...inside? Are you sure?" He asked through gritted teeth, dark brown eyes conveying his uncertainty. In reply, Vega dug the heels of her feet in beneath his rear, effectively locking him in place.

She caught a handful of his hair, gently tugging it until he leaned down again so she could seethe in his ear, "yes."

"Oh, dammit." With that wonderfully characteristic swear, Danse shoved his mouth against hers gracelessly. The heat in her belly spilled over from the onslaught of his enthusiastic thrusts and Backhand cried out, fingernails digging into his back when she came a second time.

Danse, either spurred on by her sounds or by the way her pussy gripped his dick (maybe a combination? Backhand mused) found his release seconds after, his voice breaking and dropping into a lower tone as he moaned her name. Her real name.

Elizabeth.

Vega cupped the nape of his neck, guiding his face into the hollow of her shoulder. "Lay down, sweetheart, you're shaking." She murmured, stroking over his quivering back.

"Don't want to flatten you." Danse rasped, his dick still throbbing inside her.

"Lay down. It's okay." Elizabeth flexed her bicep. "I'm strong, I can handle it." Danse laughed wearily, almost immediately going limp on top of her. She wrapped her arms back around him, fingers digging into the knots that she found to ease out the tension. "There, isn't that better?"

"Mmmmuch." Danse slurred into her neck, sounding exhausted. "Love you."

"I love you. Sleep, okay? We'll get cleaned up later. Right now though you seem like you could use a nap."

Danse nodded, the tangled mess of his hair mashed flat against her cheek in the process. "Want...to be a good parent." He mumbled several minutes later, just as Vega had thought he was dozing off. Danse propped himself up with one arm, cradling Vega's cheek in his palm. His thumb absently traced the cryo burn marks from the stasis as he continued, "a true partner for you. I don't know if you...if you even want me in that capacity, I--I don't know whether you would prefer that Shaun thinks of me as simply your friend, but I-"

"Danse," Elizabeth interrupted him sternly, raising an eyebrow. "Someone who's simply a friend wouldn't be balls deep in me."

Danse sputtered, his blush spreading down his neck to his chest. Despite his proclivity for dirty talk in the moment, he was endearingly embarrassed by her blunt words. Vega felt her heart pound as he floundered to collect himself, the large man looking away.

He's really nothing at all like Nate.

"Danse." Her voice was gentler this time, unmistakable affection bleeding through. "I would have to ask Shaun, of course, and I'd like to have an adjustment period before I do so that he can get comfortable with the idea on his own, but…" The young woman swallowed hard. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? Oh sure, she could handle the vulnerability of being naked and fucked with absolute abandon but this? This was where her brain drew the line? Unbelievable, Backhand grumbled at herself. "I think the odds are in your favor." She concluded with a grin.

"You...even though I'm not-?"

"He's probably the last person to care about that kinda' stuff, Danse. C'mon." Vega chided, running her fingers through his sweaty hair. "Now. We are...absolutely disgusting. We need a bath big time."

"I...you're right, of course." Danse agreed absently, still seeming shocked at the whole scenario. "I should...w-we should bathe. Er, at the same time. To save water." He didn't meet her eyes, his attention focused somewhere by her left shoulder.

Elizabeth laughed, bumping their foreheads together before carefully scooting up the bed. His cock slipped out of her and she couldn't help her sigh, the noise echoed by the paladin who tilted his chin to catch her with a kiss.

"You are amazing." He breathed when they parted, his smile small but sincere. "I'm...I'll be hard-pressed to keep my hands off you, Elizabeth."

"Why bother?" Vega asked, chuckling as he ducked back in for another kiss.

...

Hours later, Danse laid awake while Elizabeth slept peacefully on his chest. The paladin stared up at the ceiling, his mind running rampant.

The future.

He hadn't really dared to think about it since discovering his true identity. Hadn't felt like it was something he deserved. After all, if he was just a machine, it hardly mattered. But Elizabeth…

She thought it mattered. She wanted him. Wanted him to stay with her. Wanted him to act as a father. Pending Shaun's approval, of course.

It was surreal how much his life had changed, how far they had come in such a short amount of time. Danse was a little overwhelmed by it all, if he was being honest. Scared, yet hopeful at the same time. And, he thought as he wrapped his arm around Elizabeth, incredibly, immensely grateful.

This new world was unforgiving, the universe coldly testing the mettle of a man time and again. But Danse had finally come out the other side, and he liked to think he had changed for the better.

Whatever the future held, they would face it together.

Ad Victoriam, General Vega. Thank you for having faith in me.

#fallout 4 #fallout four #paladin danse #paladin danse x sole survivor #paladin danse/sole survivor #paladin danse imagine #fallout fandom #fallout fanfic #slow burn #Eventual romance #The Happy Ending #that's right #paladin danse x f!sole #fo4 companions imagine #fo4 companions #epilogue #the gang's all here

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fedonciadale · 4 years ago

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Severus Snape?

Hi there!

I think that Severus Snape is the most interesting character in the HP verse and probably the one JKR fleshed out the best.

Even after years and years I'm not entirely sure I like him though. Lol.

The thing is that I think JKR made an effort to characterise him in detail but at the same time she needed to take care that the final twist - Snape's real loyalty - had to stay a secret and I think that for that reason she did his character wrong in regard to certain aspects.

It is all foreshadowed in the first book in a way: Harry mistrusts Snape from the get go, but at the end we learn that he helped Harry all along.

In the fourth book it is foreshadowed again: Harry learns that Snape is a Death Eater but we learn by the end of the book that Dumbledore uses him as spy.

In the sixth book we seemingly see him show his true self, but everything he does can be tied to Dumbledore's plan when Harry finally learns everything.

Snape's real allegiance is even foreshadowed again when Harry learns Regulus' story, another Death Eater who defected.

(Just as an aside : after book six I was absolutely on the side of the people who thought that Snape still was true)

Snape's true loyalty is crucial to Harry's victory. It made him sacrifice himself and go to his death willingly - something that allowed for his survival as is heavily implied. Snape is the linch pin of Dumbledore's plan.

I do think that this is one of the plot twists that was very well prepared. And I even liked that Snape accepted his death without a fight, knowing it would dupe Voldemort into thinking he controlled the elder wand. He had no hero death. No last shout of defiance or anything like that. He needed to go without that and he did. It is heavily implied that he knew his dangerous mission was a suicide mission and he accepted it as atonement. We know that he has killed and that he would kill again to protect his cover. In his discussions with Dumbledore which we see in his memories it is clear that he tries to avoid killing though.

And still I think JKR could have been more balanced in how she portrayed him. Sometimes it is obvious that she paints him as unsympathetic to divert the reader from the fact that he might be on the good side. When things are dire he helps Harry but otherwise he is an asshole to Harry and his friends in class. I do think that this is more of a Harry problem than a general problem because Charlie Weasley remembers Snape as a strict and not necessarily nice teacher but seems to be reluctant to think he might be bad.

You know, I don't think a person has to be good to do good actions. Snape can be a strict teacher - with the tendency to favour his own house - and occasionally awful to his students and still do the right thing when it counts. It actually happens quite often in real life. The drunkard who helped Jews in WW II, the man who cheats on his wife but helps refugees etc. Humans are grey and they are more than their deeds.

There are also some aspects of Snape I'm rather fond of. He is intelligent and witty and him lying with a straight face to Umbridge that she had used all the veritasserum and that he has no idea what Harry is talking about is one of the top moments in the series.

I also think that for some of his actions you can actually see a reason when you try to see his side of things. : like when he told everybody Remus Lupin was a werewolf. He did this after Lupin had not drunken the wolfsbane and actually had endangered children because of that.

So, I don't really think that Snape should have been nicer to make his redemption more believable. What I resent though is the fact that JKR wrote this whole redemption and even let Harry name his son after him ('the bravest man he ever knew') and still claims he is a bad person, because his reasons for joining Dumbledore were selfish. - when the whole point of a grey character is that it is not that easy! Even if Snape defected for selfish reasons he clearly remains loyal to Dumbledore and the light side for more than just revenge.

And this is where a serious hole in the characterisation becomes important. We know why Snape defected, but we don't know why he joined the Death Eaters. I headcanon that - nerd that he is - joined for his thirst for knowledge, that he just wanted to know about the Dark Arts.

But the thing is we never get an explanation! We just see his remorse for his mistake. Snape might have joined to get a chance at killing James after all (and actually I think that this is what JKR had in mind but never explored). This lack of explanation is mirrored by the lack of redemption for James if you ask me. James becoming a better person is not shown. It is just told, like Snape being a bad Death Eater is just told.

What we see in the memories of Snape's own school days is an abused child desperately in need of protection with one friend who is bullied by four of his classmates relentlessly. Not that it is unbelievable that a bullied child would lash out and break bad but we are not shown this.

I think the topic of Grey characters would have been explored better if JKR would have given us both: A reason why Snape joined Voldemort and a real reason why James became better.

Or maybe even have James as a grey character who mirrors Snape. Snape is a Death Eater who atoned and tried to rectify the wrongs he did. I could even believe he joined the DE to get a chance at James and only relented when he saw that might mean Lily's death. I wouldn't mind if he only went the whole way of refusing Voldemort afterwards. Why people turn away from a tyrant does not need to be for idealistic reasons. Personal reasons that make them see the greater picture are valid as well!

JKR could have written James as a grey character as well. An arrogant prat who nevertheless chose not to enable an evil tyrant - maybe even for his muggleborn girlfriend? Maybe let Harry come to the conclusion that his father was not the white hero he dreamed up while he was subject to the abuse of the Dursleys? (And Harry projects heavily on the parents he only knew for a short time).

I think that would have been a better story.

Tldr: I think Snape is the best written character in HP - even if he is not the most likeable. Still in some aspects his character suffers from the plot necessity to hide his true allegiance. He is a grey character and I hate the fact that JKR wrote him like that but still insists that he is just bad.

Also I rather like his snark.

Thanks for the ask!

#anon ask #HP #hp universe #severus snape #Anti JKR #for organising reasons #not really #I think he is the best written character

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lastbluetardis · 4 years ago

Text

And Baby Makes Seven (10/?)

Things don’t always go as planned. Faced with an unexpected pregnancy, James and Rose have to work quickly to get everything prepared for their fifth child, and to prepare their eldest children for a new addition to the family. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: teen, 5200 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 34, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 6, Twins: 7.5 months

If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.

AO3 | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 |

Now that Ainsley had been let in on the secret of the new baby, Rose and James didn’t need to work as hard to uphold the facade. Sianin, bless her little heart, had no idea what was going on, but was glad that her mum wanted to laze around the house, which translated into Sianin getting plenty of snuggles on the sofa as they watched cartoons.

James seemed to be taking “over-protective” to a whole new level. He jumped at the chance to care for their children, either taking over or joining Rose in all bedtime routines. If a twin awoke in the middle of the night, he sprang out of bed before her groggy brain could even realize Hannah or Maddie had made a sound.

But when she brought it up to him, he flashed her a charming grin that never failed to melt her, and simply asked, “You’re upset that I want to care for my children?”

And really, when he put it like that, her irritation with him evaporated. She had to keep reminding him to let her help, though, lest the twins forget they had a mother.

James and Rose also used the opportunity to place more responsibilities on Sianin’s shoulders, to the girl’s displeasure. Since Rose wasn’t supposed to do most of the normal household chores, James taught Sianin how to vacuum, wash the floors, and a host of other minor but daily tasks.

Rose, though guilty that she was lounging around the house all day when she ought to be cleaning, was glad that Sianin was at least performing the tasks James assigned to her with minimal complaining.

Ainsley, meanwhile, took it upon herself to help her dad with anything he was doing and to check in with her mum to see if Rose needed anything.

“How long d’you have to rest for?” Ainsley asked as she settled in with Rose and Maddie on the couch for her nightly reading. Hannah was already in her crib for the night, but Maddie was stubbornly refusing to fall asleep in favor of getting snuggles and kisses from her mother.

“A few weeks,” Rose replied, blotting at the drool dripping down her baby’s chin with her jumper sleeve. Maddie scrunched her nose and turned her face away. “We’ve got a follow-up appointment next week to check the status of the bleed.”

Ainsley tilted her head to the side. “Why do you always do that? Make it plural? You said we’ve got an appointment, not I’ve got an appointment.”

Rose snorted. “You’re right. But your dad is joining me at the appointment. Plus, it’s an appointment to check on the baby, who is both his and mine. It feels wrong to claim sole ownership.”

“That’s actually really cute,” Ainsley admitted. She sighed dreamily. “Dad takes such good care of you when you’re unwell.”

A flood of adoration overtook Rose, squeezing her chest until inexplicable tears burned her eyes. She listened to her husband, who was in the kitchen assembling the girls’ lunches for tomorrow. He was humming to himself as he worked, the notes slightly flat and offkey.

“Yeah, he does,” Rose croaked.

“I hope I find someone just like him one day,” Ainsley said with a wistful sigh.

“I hope that for you, too.” Rose kissed Ainsley’s temple. “I hope that for all of my children.”

“How do you think it’ll work with Sianin and her soulmates?”

“What do you mean?”

Ainsley shrugged. “It’s hard to imagine having two soulmates. How can she love two people as equally and intensely as you love Dad?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, eh? Who knows whether Sianin’s relationship with Elena and Juliette will evolve into a romantic one.”

“I suppose,” Ainsley allowed. “But for argument’s sake, how would it work if they decided to let it be romantic? It seems so strange to be involved in a relationship with two people.”

“Strange as it might be to you, it’s normal for others. Love in all its forms is a beautiful thing, remember that.”

“It feels like it would be hard to make sure you aren’t showing favoritism to one versus another,” Ainsley said.

“Well, your dad and I have four children—we love you all with equal intensity and try not to show favoritism. I imagine it’s something similar.”

“Hmm. I don’t think I would want to be in a relationship with more than one person,” Ainsley admitted. “I want one person who is mine, and mine alone.”

“That’s perfectly reasonable,” Rose said. “You need to decide what works for you, just as Sianin will decide what works for her.”

Ainsley was quiet for several long seconds, but Rose could practically hear her daughter’s mind churning. While she let Ainsley think, she used the time to give kisses to the baby in her arms. The baby was finally getting drowsy; she had her cheek planted above Rose’s left breast, and her head rose and fell with her mother’s breaths. Any time Maddie’s eyes began to droop shut, she wrenched them open and gazed up at her mother.

Being the singular focus of her baby’s attention always made her heart squeeze with love and gratitude. She was the whole world to this tiny, perfect little human, and for a moment, as Rose got lost in her baby’s blue eyes, Maddie was her whole world, too.

“Do you think her eyes will stay blue?” Ainsley asked.

“I think so,” Rose said. “Usually if they change, they would’ve changed by now. All of my babies’ eyes started out blue. In Sianin’s case, they turned brown after a couple months. Yours stayed more or less the same color. And the twins’ appear to be brightening… they kind of look like Gran’s, don’t they?”

Ainsley peered down at Maddie. The baby shifted her sleepy eyes to her big sister, and offered a smile that widened into a yawn. Ainsley snorted and rubbed Maddie’s back. The baby grunted and wiggled around before face-planting into the crevice between Rose’s breasts.

“Silly girl,” Ainsley murmured. “Yeah, they do look like Gran’s. How does that work? I mean, I sort of know how it works. But her DNA is half you, half Dad, and yet she has Gran’s eyes. And apparently I look like Dad’s mum.”

“My DNA is half my mum and dad, and your dad’s DNA is half his mum and dad,” Rose said. “There are bits of all of our past family swirling inside of us, and it’s a lottery draw as to which traits get passed on to a baby.”

“That’s kind of neat,” Ainsley said. “It’s so fascinating that so many things have to happen perfectly to create a baby.” She paused, then continued in a rush, “We had the talk at school today. Y’know, how the girls and boys should be starting puberty soon, if they haven’t started already. One girl in my class had her first period months ago, which is mad. She’s nine! They also explained how in a couple years we’ll all be sexually mature and be able to make babies and so we all have to be very, very careful to prevent unwanted pregnancies as we’re exploring our bodies.

“They went over how a baby is made. Just the basics. Y’know, penis in vagina, sperm meets egg equals baby. I didn’t know that men released millions and millions of sperm when they had sex. That seems like overkill, doesn’t it?”

“What seems like overkill?”

Rose jumped at the sound of James’s voice right behind her. Her mind whirred, trying to wrap itself around the sudden turn their conversation had taken, as well as the fact that her baby was old enough to be learning the basics of human reproduction in school already.

“Did you know you made and released millions of sperm at a time when you have sex?” Ainsley asked, her eyes bright.

James was silent for a beat, cheeks pinkening and mouth going slack. He cleared his throat. “Er… yeah. Yeah, I did know that. But where did you learn that?”

“They gave us the talk in school.”

“Ah,” he said, wincing.

“Why do you make millions of sperm when only one will actually fertilize the egg?” Ainsley asked, cocking her head to the side. She then glanced down at Maddie, who was drooling into Rose’s shirt. “Er, or I guess two?”

“Actually, it was just one sperm,” Rose corrected.

Ainsley frowned. “But… there are two babies.”

“But they’re identical,” James said. “Genetically, they’re the same. Basically, one of my sperm met your mum’s egg, then that egg divided somewhat incorrectly to begin producing two separate babies with the same exact genetic code.”

“Oh. So your egg accidentally made a clone of itself?”

Rose snorted. “Something like that.”

Ainsley looked impressed. Then she said, “But still. Why make millions of sperm? That’s a bit wasteful, isn’t it?”

“It’s all about statistics,” James answered, scrubbing at the back of his neck. “Would you rather try to hit a target with one arrow or many? What if that one arrow is defective somehow? Or your aim is slightly off? By releasing tens of millions of sperm in one go, you increase the odds of fertilization; and the egg can be a bit choosier by only allowing the strongest of the bunch to fertilize it and begin making a baby.”

“Oh. That makes a lot of sense, actually,” Ainsley said. “What stops all of the sperm from penetrating the egg and creating a million babies?”

“Once a sperm meets the egg, it basically walls itself off from getting fertilized again,” James explained. “When sperm meets egg, a biological cascade effect begins. The woman’s egg recognizes it’s been fertilized, so it begins producing chemicals and hormones that tell the rest of the body to prepare for the oncoming baby. And it shuts down egg production so there’s no chance of multiple fertilized eggs trying to grow a baby after one is already growing. Imagine how cramped it would get in there. And imagine how hard it would be on the woman to have multiple babies all at different stages of development in her uterus. Evolution has figured out how to control everything so that doesn’t happen.”

“That’s so cool,” Ainsley said.

“It is a bit cool,” James said, smiling.

“It’s weird that women are born with all the eggs they’ll ever have, but men keep making more and more sperm ‘til they die. That’s way more efficient. What if something happens to the woman and her egg supply is damaged? At least with men, they can regenerate their sperm.” Ainsley cocked her head at her father. “In theory, you could help make a baby when you’re a hundred, right?”

James choked. “I… well… yes, technically. But my baby-making partner would also be a hundred—well, ninety-five—and since she would no longer be fertile, I wouldn’t be helping to make any more babies. Besides, the… ehm… the quality of sperm deteriorates over time. It’s not usually a good idea to procreate after a certain age. And, ehm… the act of making a baby gets… ehm… more difficult in old age. So… ehm… I’m not sure we’d… that we’d… Although I would truly love to be with your mother in that way in our old age, statistically it’s not all that probable so I’m not really expecting to… not that I wouldn’t want to… but…”

Rose kneaded the heel of her hand into her eyes as James’s gob ran without stop and without filter. She eventually reached over and pinched him. He squeaked, but snapped his mouth shut. Ainsley, meanwhile, was in stitches on the sofa, cackling madly as both her parents’ cheeks blazed.

oOoOo

Two weeks and two days after learning she had subchorionic hemorrhage, Rose walked into her OB-GYN, this time with her husband at her side. Despite the fact that her bleeding and cramping had stopped nearly a week ago, she was a little nervous to see what Elizabeth would have to say.

James must have sensed her anxiety, because he threaded their fingers together and rubbed at the back of her thumb while they waited for Rose’s name to be called. He talked to her about nothing in particular, filling the silence between them. Rose let the soothing rhythm of his voice calm her until Elizabeth appeared in the waiting room and called name, gesturing for her to follow.

“How are you feeling?” the midwife asked as she took Rose’s height and weight. “You’ve lost some weight since I saw you two weeks ago. Nothing worrying, but something to keep an eye on. Especially since you ought to be putting on weight as your pregnancy progresses.”

“My appetite is still finicky,” Rose admitted. “Nausea is mostly gone though. I’m hoping that will help. But otherwise, I feel fine.”

“Any bleeding? Cramping? Dizziness?”

Rose shook her head and stepped off the scale, following Elizabeth down the corridor to an exam room. James followed silently and settled into the chair beside the exam table. An ultrasound machine already sat in the corner of the room, and, familiar with the routine, Rose reclined on the table and exposed her belly.

Déjà vu settled over her as she remembered the utter terror of two weeks ago, certain her midwife was about to confirm her worst fear. Her pulse thundered in her ears and she began to tremble as her mind warred with itself, half of it trying to calm her, and the other half spinning out of control. James scooted his chair closer to her and leaned his elbow onto the table above her head. His warmth and scent surrounded her.

“You’re okay, love,” he whispered, kissing her forehead softly. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

“What a cute little bump,” Elizabeth cooed, squirting cool gel onto said bump between Rose’s hips. “Let’s see the cute little baby inside it, eh?”

Rose reached over and grabbed James’s free hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing tightly. He bent down to kiss her forehead again, then he brought their joined hands to his mouth to kiss her knuckles one at a time.

“Here we are,” Elizabeth said, tapping a few buttons into her keyboard.

Rose looked at the monitor and her heart clenched at the sight of her baby. They seemed to be about the same size as before, but Elizabeth was pleased with the baby’s appearance.

“They’re rather active,” the midwife noted, readjusting the probe when the shifting baby went out of focus. “Are you able to feel them, Rose?”

“Not yet,” she croaked. She desperately wanted to, though. She wanted that little flutter of life between her hips. She wanted the undeniable proof that her baby was alive and healthy and growing, because what if the scan was somehow wrong? Rose squeezed her eyes shut and focused deep within herself, trying to sense any ripple of movement in her uterus.

Her eyes shot open when the midwife tapped a few buttons and the heartbeat echoed around the room.

James let out a soft, “Oh,” his grip on her hand turning vice-like.

Rose glanced up at her husband, but his gaze was locked on the monitor, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. The sight of them made her own eyes prickle. She would never tire of seeing the awe on his face as he beheld their children. He treated each day with their kids as though it was the most precious gift he’d been given; this baby was no exception, and Rose could already see how in love her husband was with the tiny fetus inside her. She could plainly see him, seven months from now, weeping as he held their newborn for the first time, curling his body around theirs as though he could physically shield their baby from any harm the world might bring to them. She could see him sitting with the baby in the dead of night, half asleep himself, yet holding their small child to his chest as he rocked them.

God, she wanted that, was impatient for these visions to come true. Even though she regularly saw him holding and snuggling the children they already had, Rose was desperate to give him his fifth child and bring completion to their not-so-little-anymore family.

“Our baby looks healthy,” James said, his voice hoarse. Rose blinked away the visions in her mind’s eye and was brought back to the present, where her husband was no longer looking at the baby on the screen, but rather down at Rose. She flashed him a small smile that he returned before he focused on the midwife, his gaze intense. “But how is Rose? How is the hemorrhage? Is she healthy and safe?”

“Let’s take a look at that next.” Elizabeth zoomed out away from the baby, and instead shifted the focus of the ultrasound probe to the gray masses surrounding the baby. “Here we go.”

After taking a few seconds to orient James and Rose to what she was talking about, Elizabeth pointed to a black blob along the edge of the placenta. “Here’s the clot. And yes, it is just a clot now. It appears to no longer be actively bleeding, which is excellent news. The placenta is intact, which is also great news. Sometimes a concern is that the bleeding will cause the placenta to pull away from the uterine wall, but that is not the case here. I am very, very happy with what I’m seeing.”

Rose let out a deep breath. James, too, relaxed a fraction.

“Can I go back to business as usual?” Rose asked.

“Let’s not be hasty,” James answered instead.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Rose drawled, reaching up to pat his cheek.

Elizabeth pursed her lips around a grin. She wiped the expression off her face and said, “I see no reason why not. Obviously you are limited as any other pregnant woman is, and I would try to take it easy for the next couple weeks as the clot dissolves, but yes, you should be able to resume all activities as normal.”

Rose was fairly certain she’d read between the lines correctly, yet she asked, “Sex too?”

James let out a little squeak that had Rose rolling her eyes. Elizabeth’s entire profession revolved around people having had biologically-successful sex. They themselves were here because they’d had successful sex. Nutter.

“Yes, you may resume your sexual activities,” the midwife answered.

Rose nodded. She hadn’t been in the mood for sex lately, too concerned was she with the baby and will following the instructions to rest. She knew that James’s sex drive had mirrored her own in his double concern for her and the baby. While she still didn’t have the desire to drag James straight into bed when they got home, Rose was glad it was at least an option, if the mood struck. She’d find other ways to satisfy James if or when his sex drive returned while hers remained elusive.

“Is Rose okay to travel?” James asked. “We were planning to take the kids up to Scotland for half-term break next week. Probably travelling by train.”

“I’ve been cleared to shag your brains out, but no, the movement of a train will be far too vigorous for my delicate condition,” Rose muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

James flicked her nose but didn’t reply.

“Yes, she should be fine,” Elizabeth said, pretending not to have heard their exchange. “Just listen to your body, Rose. It will do a good job of telling you what it needs. Try not to overexert. Rest when you’re tired. Make sure you’re getting enough vitamins and nutrients. Things like that.”

“Thanks,” Rose said. “And while we’re talking about it, do you happen to have any connections with midwives in Scotland? Near Glasgow? James and I are going to be relocating our family. The move isn’t happening next week or anything; we’re getting the kids used to the area and the house we’ll be moving into.”

“And you say I’m chatty,” James teased.

Rose rolled her eyes.

“Funnily enough, I do,” Elizabeth said. “One of my very close friends. We went to school together. I can send you her contact information, as I don’t have it on hand right now. I can also reach out to her to see if she can see you next week, if you’d like? A consultation visit, mostly, assuming she is taking new patients and is near enough to where you’ll be living.”

“That’d be brilliant,” Rose said, accepting the moist towels the midwife handed to her and cleaning off her belly.

Elizabeth made a few notes on her computer, then printed out another scan of the baby for them, despite them having one from two weeks ago. She also scheduled Rose’s twenty-week appointment, which would be shortly after the holidays. Rose was already impatient for January sixth to be here; it would be the appointment when she and James would learn the sex of their baby, something Rose always loved learning. But this time was the added game of being able to tease James for his apparent inability to produce a Y-chromosomed sperm. As though that was something he could control. (A fact he liked to remind her of often.)

“As always, you can call us if there are any questions or concerns,” Elizabeth said as she walked them to the front lobby. “But I’m very pleased with everything I’ve seen today.”

After thanking her, James slipped his fingers between Rose’s and guided her out to their car.

oOoOo

The following week, James and Rose willed themselves to have endless reserves of patience as they readied their children for the trip to Scotland. It felt like they had to pack up their entire house to ensure they had enough supplies for all the kids, including toys and games in addition to the endless articles of clothing.

Robert, bless him, was accompanying them, to help with child care and to give his opinion on the work they might want done to the manor house. James had reached out to half a dozen different remodeling companies to have them come out and take a look at the work he and Rose wanted done; they were due to arrive at the end of the week, since James and Rose wanted the first few days to walk around the house and make lists of repairs and upgrades that could be done, both internally and externally to the grounds.

The train ride went as well as could be expected when travelling with four children. Ainsley was content to read for the entire journey, but Sianin loudly proclaimed she was bored barely an hour into the trip. The twins were awake and wanting to crawl around, but there was only so much space in the compartment car. James, Rose, and Robert took turns walking a fussing baby up and down the length of the train, introducing the infant to cooing passengers who fawned over how beautiful she was. The passengers were extra delighted to realize they were identical twins.

Finally, the train docked in Glasgow, where the Tyler-McCrimmons picked up a rental vehicle and made the half-hour drive out of the city proper to the manor house.

The excitement at the prospect of permanently living in the “castle” evaporated Ainsley and Sianin’s travel exhaustion. As soon as James unlocked the front door, they bolted inside and began chattering to each other about where their playroom should be and calling dibs on the bedrooms.

“I want this one,” Sianin announced, gesturing to the master suite.

“That one is off-limits,” James said lightly, tweaking the end of her braid. “Available to mummies and daddies only. Same with the guest suite on the other side. That’s for when Gran or Grandad stay to visit.”

Sianin deflated a bit, but perked back up when James reminded her that there were plenty of other bedrooms to choose from.

Rose, meanwhile, immediately began to visualize how she would decorate. The current color scheme of the manor was dark, but not gloomily so. Even still, Rose thought that brightening the wall colors from burgundy to a rich cream or ivory would help open up the space and blend the rooms together. It would also make the house feel cleaner, and with five children tearing it apart, Rose knew she and James could use all the help they could get in that department.

The floors were in excellent shape, having been replaced shortly after Ainsley was born. Robert had come to her and James when he was having the work performed so they could help pick out the color and style of the various hardwood, tile, and carpeted floors in all of the rooms. Belatedly, Rose realized that Robert had done so because he knew this home would belong to them in the near future.

From the foyer, which was lit from the warm glow of the chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, Rose stared straight ahead into the formal dining room that used to be a ballroom; the kitchen extended beyond that through a set of wide oak doors that were currently closed. She already knew that the kitchen was huge and open, thanks to James’s grandmother having remodeled it to use up more of the defunct ballroom space. The kitchen housed a long table that would easily fit their large family; therefore, the formal dining room wouldn’t be necessary until they hosted holidays or had friends over. Otherwise, that could easily be a place for the children to do their homework.

To her right was what used to be a receiving room, but had evolved over the last century to be the living room. It was already furnished with a couch, a love seat, and a few reclining chairs placed strategically around a television. A fireplace sat along the far wall, and Rose could already see herself sitting in the rocking reclining chair and nursing her new baby, or snuggling with one of her other four children or husband as the fire crackled merrily beside them. Goosebumps prickled along Rose’s skin at the thought of her and James making love by the fireplace, a vision straight out of a Victorian romance novel.

Blinking away that fantasy for the time being, Rose continued her mental mapping of the manor. Behind the living room was another room that had been a different receiving room—most likely, she presumed, a space for the gentlemen when the ladies had overtaken the first receiving room. Because God forbid men enjoy their wives’ presence.

James’s parents had converted that into a study area for James; Rose thought it would make a nice playroom for their family. It had plenty of room to store the kids’ endless number of toys, and it had a closet where they could keep their games. The flooring in there was currently hardwood; Rose made a mental note to chat with James about replacing it with something softer.

Extending beyond the living room was a narrow hallway that opened up to what had once been servants’ quarters. Rose knew that James’s grandmother had remodeled it and created a larger footprint, converting the area into a spacious a guest suite; it was where Robert always slept when he visited, unable to stomach being in the master bedroom ever since he’d lost his wife.

To the left of the foyer was a long, wide corridor with several rooms branching off of it. One of those rooms was a library that Rose already knew Ainsley would practically make her second bedroom. Rose planned to outfit the room with a variety of comfortable furniture and a desk. Directly beside the library and connected with a door was a formal study; she figured James would like to make that his space, filling it with textbooks and knickknacks and turning it into a place he could mark papers and exams on the weekends or weeknights.

Directly beside the study and again connected through a set of doors was a secondary study. This one was at the end of the manor, and therefore had windows on the two external walls. It was filled with plenty of natural lighting and Rose thought it would make a perfect place for her to set up her art studio.

On the opposite side of the corridor from the library and studies were a series of small rooms. There was a half bath that was mostly just a closet with a toilet and a sink, and two small rooms that Rose genuinely didn’t know the purpose of. They were far too big to be closets, but a tad too small to be bedrooms. Rose didn’t care what they used to be; instead, she planned to make the rooms a nursery: one for the twins, until they were big enough for proper beds, and the other for the new baby. It would be perfect, since the last room at the end of the corridor was the master suite.

Rose already knew the suite was enormous, yet it took her breath away to behold it. The room would easily fit their king-sized bed and all of their bedroom furniture, and still have room for more. Perhaps they could put a cushy rocking chair in this room as well as the nurseries; there could never be enough cozy furniture to cuddle her children, Rose thought.

There was a giant walk-in closet connected to the bedroom, as well as a double-vanity ensuite. The bathroom, too, was huge, outfitted with a tub and a walk-in shower stall; both the tub and shower had plenty of room for her and James to share, which would be perfect for intimate date nights.

Moving from room to room, Rose catalogued how she would arrange furniture and paint colors that would look good in each room and blend the entire ground floor of the house together. She took note of the flooring, and which rooms should be outfitted with carpets rather than hardwood floors or tile, or vice versa. When she and James helped Robert pick out the floors, they’d only had Ainsley; at the time, she hadn’t been able to imagine having five children. Now, she couldn’t imagine anything differently.

“I can see that beautiful mind of yours at work already.” James came up behind her as she weighed whether the library ought to be carpeted or left as it was with hardwood floor. He wrapped his arms around her waist and casually splayed a palm on her lower belly, kissing the side of her neck and sending pleasant tingles across her skin. “What are you thinking?”

Rose leaned into him, tilting her head back to catch his gaze. His eyes were bright with joy and soft with love; she found herself falling in love with him all over again. She turned in his arms, draping her forearms over his shoulders.

“I’m thinking,” she murmured, pushing up onto her toes so that her mouth hovered mere inches from his, “that this already feels like home.”

And though she planted a kiss to his lips as she finished speaking, his answering smile was dazzling.

#ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #soulmates #soulmates au #family fic #kid fic #baby fic #pregnancy #fluff #romance #my fic #and baby makes seven #soulmates verse #perfectly matched series

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avversiera-writes · 4 years ago

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try again; in every day we breathe life [tobirama senju/you] - chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Then, Part 2

Summary: You and Tobirama discuss children. The actual smut happens.

Words: ~3k

A/N: yeah, smut. etc. enjoy. bc there will be more. apparently.

available on AO3.

< Chapter 1 | Chapter 2, Part 1 |

“How many children do you want?” You ask, getting comfortable under layers of soft blankets.

Tobirama glances at you, incredulous. You see his ears get red. “We do not have to discuss this right now. Do not mind what the people are saying.”

You smile in secret as Tobirama slides into the bed next to you. He is always so thoughtful, even if he sounds insulting doing it. He knows that you felt hurt by what the kunoichis of the village have been saying to you, and they have been suggesting such things for a while now. This is him trying to reassure you that there is no rush.

“Well, I do know I want to have children with you,” you say with a yawn. “Let’s talk about it some more later. Like you have said.”

Your eyes feel heavy and they flit close, leaving Tobirama with the silence. He glances at you, and tries to sleep as well, but it continues to evade him. He lies there with his many thoughts, and he reckons he will have to entertain them throughout the night.

When they were kids, Hashirama had told Tobirama that when he was born, their clan thought that he wasn’t going to make it at all. Born an albino, an occurrence in the Senju that has never happened before, Tobirama was a small thing, and the fragile purple and blue veins under his very pale skin were apparent, as if his skin would fold like paper. Hashirama said that out of all their brothers, he held Tobirama the most, because that was the only thing he thought he could do for him.

But Tobirama continued to live, to breathe and to cry like a normal baby.

It was a bloody time to raise children, especially children who may not even live more than a decade. His future back then was bleak and he wasn’t even sure if could even live long enough to make his brother’s dream come true, but here he is, grown up and thinking about starting his own family.

Peace was a prize paid by many lives, including their very own younger brothers. How Kawarama and Itama would have loved to grow up in a place like Konoha.

Even if peace is a little scarce these days, with the brewing tensions with the other shinobi villages after Madara’s defection, peace can still be preserved. Especially now, when there are more children surviving past ten years.

When you mentioned that you wanted to start a family with him, Tobirama started to plan ahead in that nervous panicked way he does. Despite being busy throughout the day with his duties, his mind keeps drifting to the steps he may have to take to build a family with you. Even if it’s just a possibility. Even if it will not happen, but just in case it does . He cannot have himself bumbling about like a fool. He wants to be prepared. For anything.

He blinks at the ceiling, both unaware and aware of the time passing, and then he glances at you, still sleeping.

He thinks about how much he has changed. He never thought about having children of his own, he wasn’t even sure if he would even marry in the first place–or marry in accordance to his feelings, but now, things have changed for him. Of course he loves his brother’s children, but the thought of bringing one of his own into this world had never been in his sights before. The thought of holding his own, tiny little child….is daunting. Besides, with the way he was raised, what other parenting methods would he resort to but what he knew? He does not want his own children to go through that.

He refuses to raise his own children in a way that sets them up for death. Their future has got to be better.

Will he be better?

How many kids will he have? Will he have daughters? Or as many sons as Hashirama?

“Tobirama?”

You wake up, and find Tobirama’s eyes on you. He always watches you when he cannot sleep. Slowly, you bring a hand to his chest.

“What’s wrong?” You murmur.

He keeps staring, and you smile softly, waiting.

“Children,” he states.

“What?” You almost laugh.

Tobirama visibly scowls. “You asked how many children I want to have.”

You narrow your eyes, trying to think. Then, it comes back to you. Oh .

“And your answer is?” Your lips spread to a smile.

Tobirama stares at you, in that clueless expression that you became familiar with. It appears once in a blue moon.

“Does it bother you?” Tobirama quickly interjects to change the subject.

You prop yourself on your elbow and raise an eyebrow. “What bothers me?”

Tobirama flails a hand towards the ceiling helplessly–so uncharacteristic of him. “That people talk about you.”

“Not really,” you reply immediately, not wanting to make him worry about this.

Your husband turns his head to focus on you, his attention solely on your words to come.

“I mean, they are kind of right,” you add sheepishly. “I had no name for myself and my family, while they used to be a big clan, refused to be shinobi anymore. There was no reason why you should look to me as your wife. There was nothing to be gained.”

“Besides,” you voice out quietly. “We’re not getting any younger, especially me.”

Tobirama stares at you like you suddenly grew a second head.

“Tobirama–”

“If we–when we do have children,” Tobirama interrupts, not quite gently, but in that gruff way he does, when he tries to cover up his thrill. “I hope they will have your grace and your kindness.”

You press your body closer to him, and he pulls you over on top of him. “Are you thinking about it?”

Tobirama guards a small smile.

“Wait, don’t tell me,” you chuckle. “You’ve actually thought about it.” You state it as it is, because you know how Tobirama gets when something is sitting on his mind for a long time.

“Just in case,” Tobirama replies, his hands travelling down your hips. “We aren’t getting any younger.”

You lean forward to catch his lips, and you murmur, “Good news for you, you can still reproduce in your old age. As for me, might as well throw me aside as soon as I’m past my thirties.”

Tobirama frowns, and he pulls you closer. “Never. I’d take you, barren or not.”

You roll your eyes. “How sweet.”

“I mean it.”

“How very sweet.”

You lean forward and kiss him on his lips again, but before he can reciprocate, you pull away. “I hope they look like you.”

Tobirama hums. “Debatable.”

“You know you’re actually funny when you try,” you comment playfully, and with that, Tobirama flips the two of you on your back.

“Three or four children will suffice,” Tobirama finally gives you an answer.

You frown. “Are you seriously making another genin team? Out of our own theoretical children?”

Tobirama smirks and pushes his knee against your thigh to spread your legs apart. “Let’s start now.”

You roll your eyes. “Not even going to ask me, huh? So typical of you.” You smirk at him. “I am still taking the birth control remedies that Mito gave me.”

“You talk as if the Senju are impotent.”

“So cocky,” you goad, and you bring a knee up to his groin. “Can you really get me to carry your child in one go?”

Tobirama’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Is that a challenge?”

Tobirama leans down and he presses his body into yours, and every inch of your skin in contact with his sets your skin ablaze. He kisses you fiercely, and you return his kisses with the same fervor. You hastily tear at his clothes, and he is quick to untie your sleeping gown and push them down to your shoulders.

“Wait, are you absolutely sure?” You ask him and you push him back, suddenly incredulous. “I thought you’d want to talk about it some more.”

Tobirama raises an eyebrow. “Since when did I ever act on impulse?”

“Well, I mentioned it once, and suddenly you’re eager to impregnate me?”

Tobirama’s expression softens and you grow more bewildered. He takes your leg, and plants a kiss on the side of your knee. “We have many chances to get it right.”

“But don’t you want to make preparations? You’re a very busy man, and don’t you have to, like, consult with your family or doctors, or buy baby things…?” You trail off, realizing that this is Senju Tobirama you are talking to.

Senju Tobirama, your husband, who is probably taking care of all your worries even while the two of you copulate to your satisfaction. Who probably will continue to make many more arrangements as time goes on.

“Bastard,” you almost spit out of spite.

Tobirama places his hands on your hips and roughly pulls you closer to his waist. Your back lifts off the bed, and the edge of your yukata rides up your thigh, exposing more skin. His eyes hungrily rove from your exposed shoulders and thighs, and you shiver in anticipation. Love-making with Tobirama is never dull, and it is always intense and particular with his own brand of tenderness, in which he shows you how passionate he truly is. The bedroom is the only witness to this, besides you.

“Is that what we’re going to do now? Call each other names?” Tobirama asks, his voice dropping to a lower tone that sounds akin to a growl.

“You can do anything you want to me,” you murmur, and you peek at him meekly to gauge his reaction. “You can even be mean about it.”

“Don’t be coy,” Tobirama orders.

“Or what ?” You smile, knowing that you are slowly riling him up. “I’ll regret it? You’ll make me regret it?”

Tobirama suddenly tears your yukata apart, and now, you are stark naked under him. “Or I’ll make you beg for it.”

Your body flushes, and you let out a shaky sigh. The ball may be in his court, but it is still favorable to you.

"Show me how you'll do it," you whisper.

Tobirama stares at you, seeming like he is contemplating, when suddenly, he grabs your throat and squeezes the sides of your neck. He leans over you, covering your body with his own and he plants a violent kiss on your lips that leaves you dizzy.

You let out a moan, but he swallows it, his tongue swirling against yours. He turns his head to deepen the kiss, and your eyes snap open as he devours you. Tobirama does not show any sign of easing up, and you can only gasp as his hand travels down your stomach, and dives in between your legs. He presses his fingers against your cunt, and he starts to grind them purposefully, and you sense yourself getting wetter, and your walls clenching from the anticipation.

Tobirama’s hand eases on your neck, and he watches your face as he brings you to the edge, rubbing and pressing against your clit, and when your breathy moans start to accelerate, he stops, and he leaves you gasping, your nerves completely alight with a blinding white fire. You whine, and you close your eyes as your body trembles for more.

You reach down in between your legs, wanting to finish, but Tobirama grasps your wrist and pins them to the side.

“Eager, are we?” You can hear the smirk in Tobirama’s voice.

You peek at Tobirama, and you run your eyes from his chest and his torso, and to his red and angry erection.

“Aren’t you?” You whisper, your voice catching in your throat.

“I have some patience,” Tobirama runs a hand on the side of your thigh, and squeezes your ass.

His rough hand on your skin makes you whimper, and even more so as he leans down and puts his mouth on your breast to suckle your nipple. His tongue laps on it, and around it, flicking the aroused bud until you are arching up to his hips to find some relief. His other hand kneads your other breast, his fingers pinching and twisting your nipple.

You squirm underneath him, unable to bear it any longer, but a stubborn part of you that is in this game will not let you beg. His teeth graze against your nipple and a shiver runs down your spine. Every part of you that he touches becomes sensitive and pliable for him.

Finally, Tobirama lets up and he plants a kiss on your swollen lips. It is unexpectedly gentle, and you melt against him, and this time you consider saying please.

You shoot your husband a glare filled with lust and your hand travels to his cock, and you begin to pump it, your hand twisting the shaft and teasing the head. You hear Tobirama stifle a gasp, and you keep going, feeling it harden even more. Suddenly, Tobirama grabs your hand to stop you and his body twitches and he turns red.

He starts to breathe harshly, and you bite down a smile.

“Please?” You say to him.

Tobirama rolls his eyes, and you let out a breathy laugh. “Who am I to say no?”

Tobirama’s hand stills your hips, while the other guides his erection into your entrance. He eases in, slowly, shallowly thrusting with the head of his cock. He places his hands on your hips to massage and make you relax, and then he guides the two of you into a slow rhythm that continues to build a searing heat that spreads throughout your body.

Tobirama’s pace picks up, and he leans back a little to drive himself deeper into you. You accommodate him by arching up a little, but the position proves to be unsatisfying. You want more. You thrust back voraciously just as he pulls away, and you use your thighs to flip the two of you on his back.

You smile languorously, and you plant your hands on his chest, and begin to grind your hips down. You take all of him rapaciously, and your hips stutter as they continue to chase a climax that is beginning to take ahold of you. Tobirama thrusts upwards as you come down, never giving up much control, and you throw your head back and let out a strangled scream as he continues to fuck you from below.

A pleasurable shudder runs through you, and you lean forward to give Tobirama an open-mouthed kiss. His hands go to your waist to hold you there, and then, he sits up and slams you down on your back. The two of you end up at the corner of the bed, and Tobirama’s hips slam into you with more zeal, and you start to cry out uncontrollably. Tears flow down from the corners of your eyes, and you grab onto Tobirama��s back and run your nails down his shoulders.

Tobirama places a leg on his shoulder, and he fucks you even more relentlessly. Somewhere in the background, you hear something snap and creak, but you are lost in the throes of passion, and your focus is only on your husband, whose cock is pulsating inside your tightening walls. He covers your body with his, and holds your hand above your head. You feel his cool chakra descend into your veins, and the feeling soothes and riles you up even more. You roll your hips back into him as he continues to ram himself deeper.

Suddenly, the corner of the bed gives, and the two of you fall to the floor, along with the sheets and the mattress. Tobirama rolls you to your back, not caring if the walls of this house are next to cave in. You seize and let out a strangled scream as a white, blinding light explodes beneath your eyelids and you mewl as he keeps going, this time, to reach his climax.

Finally, his hips stutter and he pushes in as you feel him come inside of you. His hot seed fills you, and he gives you a few more thrusts before settling in.

You shake underneath him, completely dazed and mind-numbed. You feel his hand on your face, reassuring and tender.

The two of you hiss as Tobirama finally pulls out, and he collapses beside you. Your breaths are loud and harsh, and when they have slowed, Tobirama pulls you onto his body to embrace you. A kiss is planted on your forehead, and you close your eyes, unable to think of anything else but you and your husband, and the prospect of starting a family.

You probably only slept for an hour or two when daylight started to flicker in through the small slits of the curtains. Your face is buried into Tobirama’s chest, while your husband lies on his back, staring at the ceiling. You feel kind of sorry towards him for riling him up so much as you are sure he probably did not get enough sleep.

You yawn, and stretch languidly, feeling the soreness settle in. Tobirama glances at you, eyes stark and bright in the dim light of the room.

“Up for more?” Tobirama suddenly brings up and you almost snap your neck to look at him.

“Wait, what?” You gasp as he flips you to your back. “Don’t you have work?”

Tobirama stares at you pointedly, and hooks his arms underneath your shoulders.

“Won’t we break the house if we keep doing this?” You smile suggestively.

Tobirama pauses, and with a passive face, he utters gravely, “Well, I do not want to do that. We’d be homeless, and with a needy child on the way.”

You roll your eyes. “All right, Nidaime, that’s enough. What’s gotten into you? You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“We’ll go slow this time,” Tobirama plants a kiss on your chin, and you laugh.

“Oh, slow is not your thing, my darling,” you tease, and you kiss him, with as much ardour he gives back to you.

To be continued...

Chapter 3 - Now >>

#Tobirama Senju #Senju Tobirama #tobirama x you #tobirama x reader #angelica writes #you never said goodbye timeline/au #'til death do us part #naruto #Naruto Shippuden #naruto fanfiction

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