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rhysismydaddy · 4 years

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After Midnight pt. 1 (Feysand)

Synopsis: After a tumultuous, heartbreaking relationship, Feyre Archeron turns to online dating for a break from normalcy. Or rather, to Velaris Nighttime Ventures, the most exclusive, high-dollar escort system around. She needs to ease back in to intimacy, so this seems like the perfect idea. But what happens when her escort turns out to be someone she can’t get out of her head? Someone who seems to understand and appreciate everything about her?

My many disclaimers: Stole a line in here from The Hating Game. And one from ACOTAR obviously. And the story line is loosely based off of The Kiss Quotient. Basically, I’m a fraud.

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~Feyre~

If I told any of my friends I’m about to hire a hooker, they’d laugh themselves silly.

And, to be honest, the idea is a little ridiculous to me, too.

I’ve never had a problem getting a date in my life. Brownish blondeish hair, blue-gray eyes, and an athletic build give me slightly above average looks. A lucrative job makes me financially sound and independent. A lifetime with two sisters gave me a sense of humor.

I’ve dated prom kings, nerds, and everything in between. I’m completely normal.

Or at least I used to be.

After everything that happened last year, I don’t know if that’s true anymore.

My therapist tells me constantly it’s okay that my last relationship changed me. And the multiple degrees on her pretty green wall tell me she knows what she’s talking about and that she’s completely correct.

Even if... even if it doesn’t feel okay.

Even if I can hardly stand looking in a mirror or being hugged or someone giving me a compliment.

Even if I haven’t felt like myself in so long, I don’t even know if I’d recognize it if i did.

Because while I used to love putting makeup on, choosing a dress, and going out, the thought now fills me with so much dread it makes me nauseous.

What if I just make the same mistake as last time?

My sister's told me my whole life to guard my heart, but I always laughed it off and said she was being cynical. And what do I have to prove it? Trust issues and a standing appointment Dr. Motley.

Men don’t deserve my trust. At least not right now.

But... it’s time to move on in the physical sense.

And since running the risk of taking home the wrong man scares me shitless, I’ll start with someone who can’t reject me, can’t make me feel worthless.

Someone who won’t develop feelings for me or get attached and demanding. Someone... who won’t mind giving me control.

A hooker.

Or escort, like the Velaris Nighttime Ventures website says as I scroll through pages and pages of profiles.

Gods, this is more stressful than my first gallery opening.

All the profiles include is a picture, probably-fake name, height, an age, and a simple sentence about them.

It feels creepily similar to online shopping. And there are so, so many options. How the heck am I going to choose one?

Scrolling down further, my eyes roam over men of every skin tone, age, and height. I don’t have any real preference, but decide I need to have a few ground rules, otherwise this will take forever.

Age? I’m twenty-seven and don’t have an interest in being a cougar, so I set the range from twenty-eight to thirty-five.

Height? At 5′6, I’m not exactly tall, but I’ve always found men who were more attractive, so I shrug and put the minimum at six feet.

Pressing enter, I watch the website sort, then look at the number of men left. Thirty. Not bad.

Scrolling through slowly, I realize it’s kind of like a yearbook for an all male college or something.

A college full of really sexy men.

I pause on a few, but something about them make her keep going. I want the complete opposite of my ex, so any with features like him get eliminated.

Eventually, I get to the last row, feeling a little dejected.

But then I see him.

His eyes seemed to pierce through the screen, and once I see him, I can’t look away. Without another thought, I click on the profile.

The name under the picture reads Rhysand. No last name, probably for privacy purposes. He’s a few years older than me. And tall--6′3 tall. But that isn’t what draws me closer. It’s the sentence he’d written.

To the stars that listened -- and the dreams that are answered.

My fingers ignore the rational part of my brain and click the button to book an appointment, and before I know it, I’m looking at a confirmation page.

For tonight at midnight.

Oh gods.

~Rhysand~

After working at the bar for a few hours, I head back to my shitty apartment to get ready for tonight’s appointment.

Someone has booked me for an “evening of adventure and pleasure” as the confirmation email tells me.

Wonderful.

All I know is her name: Feyre. It doesn’t sound like an old-lady name, so there’s that.

Those are the worst. It feels like fucking someone’s grandmother. Not that I’d know, exactly. And I mean sure, most of my clients are older. But there’s older, and then there’s old. Fine line between the two, let me tell you.

Most of the people who hire me are in their forties, trapped in miserable marriages, and desperate for a decent lay. They’re also filthy rich, because I’m not cheap in the slightest.

It’s why I’d agreed to this shit in the first place.

Yeah, I have to psych myself up and sleep with a random lady, but the pay is killer. And the more money I make, the quicker I can stop.

So I shower and go through my pre-appointment routine, trying not to think about what’s become of my life.

There weren’t any special requests on the appointment, but the meet was set for a swanky hotel downtown, so I put on a dark suit and white dress shirt. My hair doesn’t need much work, so I leave, figuring I’ll get there early.

The drive over’s quick, and soon I’m walking inside and sitting at the bar. She has my picture, but I don’t have a clue what she looks like, so she’ll have to come find me.

After a few minutes, someone settles next to me, and I turn around with an expectant smile.

But when I see who it is, I stop. And hating myself more than I thought possible, I tell the woman, “Sorry, I’m waiting for someone.”

Which really fucking sucks, because she’s beautiful as hell.

Smooth skin, dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and kiss-me lips kind of beautiful.

She gives me a strange look, then says words I’d never expect from someone like her. “I’m Feyre. I’m the... client.”

The way she cringes on the word tells me it’s her first time doing something like this, and the thought makes me a little too happy.

I know I should say something to comfort her, but all I can think is... she’s definitely no grandma.

~Feyre~

He keeps staring at me for a few more moments, then smiles and says, “Sorry. You’re not what I was expecting.”

I nod, then realize I have no idea what to say. Or do. Fuck, this is weird. “Do you want a drink?”

Rhysand shakes his head, then says, “Feel free, though.”

That’s the first good idea I’ve heard all day. After ordering from the bartender, I turn to the man next to me and smile sheepishly. “I don’t really know how this works. It’s my first time with... this.”

“I figured.” He’s turned toward me, one arm braced on the bar. “You can have your drink, and we’ll go upstairs when you’re ready.”

A nervous laugh ebbs out of me, and I blush. “Okay.”

Gods, am I really going through with this?

I mean sure, he’s hotter than all hell, but he’s a prostitute.

Would you rather invite a random man home with you? the bitch that lives in my brain asks with a knowing smile.

I ignore her as a drink’s set in front of me, finding it helps a little. The man next to me just watches, face a mixture of confusion and amusement.

Somehow, the photo didn’t do him justice. He’s ridiculously attractive, with dark hair, almost violet eyes, and tan skin. There’s a hint of stubble on his strong jaw, surrounding the sensual mouth that’s currently smirking at me.

I’m definitely attracted to him, but this is still weird.

“So, why are you doing this?” he asks as I drink. “If you don’t mind.”

I’m sure as hell not telling him the truth, so I say, "I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours.”

Rhysand smiles, and it only makes him more attractive. “Fair point.”

Then he looks me up and down, raises his dark brows, and asks, “Ready?”

Not in the fucking slightest. “Sure.”

By the time we reach the elevator, I’m practically shaking. Telling myself that I can do this--that it’s what I want, for gods sake--doesn’t really help. But I don’t say a word as we glide up, then walk to the room I’ve rented for tonight.

When we get inside, I avoid looking at the bed as I turn to him.

Rhysand smoothly takes off his suit jacket, then leans against the wall and crosses his ankles. “You seem nervous.”

He certainly doesn’t. Every move he makes is smooth and easy, like he’s so comfortable in his body he doesn’t ever get nervous or self-conscious.

Must be nice.

“I do?” It’s a deflection, and we both know it.

“You’re shaking like a wet dog.” My nose wrinkles at the analogy, and he grins. “A very cute wet dog.”

I told myself I’d be alright, but now that I’m alone with him, I realize I’ve told absolutely no one where I am tonight. And if things go wrong... I start pacing. “I’m, uh... it’s just... nothing. Let’s do this thing.”

I should write sonnets.

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t say a word as he walks to sit on the edge of the bed. Feeling like the biggest idiot in the world, I sit next to him.

“Why don’t we just take things slow?”

Thank the gods. I nod.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, using manners I definitely hadn’t expected but much appreciate.

I nod again, trying to keep my hands from shaking.

Rhysand raises a hand, but I swallow and push down the flare of panic as he cups my jaw and tilts my face to his. Then he leans in--keeping his word and going very slowly--and I brace myself as his lips brush against mine.

My body doesn’t exactly know how to feel when they touch. On the one hand, a very handsome man is kissing me. On the other... a man is kissing me.

I ignore the second thought and kiss him back.

His lips are silky soft against mine, slowly urging them open, and then his tongue is in my mouth, caressing mine. Everything’s slow and sensual and practiced.

And even though it’s a picture-perfect moment, it feels like that scene in the movie where the dumb blonde goes down the dark hallway while the entire theater screams at her to run.

Oh gods oh gods oh gods.

My brain’s playing me a repeat of the last year on fast forward, and I press my eyes closed to try and block it out.

I’m fine.

Rhysand leans into me, and then I’m on my back with him hovering above me, still kissing me. His surprisingly muscled frame is heavy against me, pressing me down into the soft sheets, and his elbows are by my head.

Nothing’s wrong.

Everything’s wrong.

I take a quick moment to remind myself that if this had happened a year ago, I’d probably have wrapped myself around him and let him do whatever he wanted.

But the past twelve months weren’t just a bad dream. And the band-aid protecting the stupid, naive girl I used to be from the harsh realities of the world has been ripped off and torn to bits.

And suddenly, I can’t breathe.

His head snaps up immediately, and violet eyes gaze down at me, full of concern. A weak hand comes up to press against his chest, and he sits up immediately. “Feyre? Are you okay?”

I shake my head and practically roll off the bed onto the floor. It’s completely undignified, but I don’t care. My lungs are on fire, my throat tight with the tears I’m barely holding back.

I have to get away from him; I have to get some space.

My back hits the wall, and I curl into myself, pressing my forehead against my knees.

Breathe, Feyre, breathe.

The silence in the room is broken only by my gasps, and I focus on the sound, letting it remind me that I’m here, that I made it out.

I don’t let myself think about the other person in the room. It’s just me, and I’m fine. I made it out.

There’s scratchy carpet under my legs, a wall behind my back, and more than enough air in the room.

Eventually, my brain catches up with the obvious, allowing oxygen to fill my chest. I’m gulping down breath after breath until my heart rate finally starts slowing down, and it’s only when my head stops feeling fuzzy do I open my eyes.

Rhysand sits on the bed, beautiful eyes wide, watching me.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. Gods, he’s probably uncomfortable beyond belief. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s not your fault,” I say, cutting him off and shaking my head. I know I should get off the floor, but my legs feel like jello, and I don’t want to crawl around again. “I, um...”

The words to explain the panic don’t come easy, but he stays silent, giving me time.

And because I’m a coward who still can’t admit what happened to me, I repeat the words my therapist suggested I try.

“I have problems with intimacy.” It’s hardly a whisper, but I know he hears it. “And, um... I thought it would be easier with someone like you.” I flinch at my own words and try to make it sound less offensive. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay, Feyre. I understand.”

Tears burn the edges of my eyes, but I force them down and steady my voice. “You can go. There’s money on the desk.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you like this. Unless I’m the reason.”

“No, it’s not you,” I assure him. “You’re great. I just have a hard time relaxing with- I mean around-”

“Men,” he finishes quietly.

And even though I didn’t tell him, he looks like he can read the words off my face. Rhysand doesn’t say another word, but his eyes are understanding and calm.

He extends a hand, the silent invitation clear, and for some reason, it makes me smile as I slowly get to my feet, using the wall to support me.

Walking over, he takes my hand in is, and I notice how rough his palms are. Before I can wonder what he does to get such big callouses, he takes my other hand and places them on his shoulders.

“You’re in control. There are no expectations with me.” The words wash over me, settling in, and my heart slows down a bit. “If you want to kiss and call it a night, we can. It’s up to you.”

For some reason, hearing that he doesn’t care helps. It’s the reason why I chose this, I guess. I’m the client, and I’m in control.

Finally feeling calm, I slowly run my hands over his shoulders, down his arms. He’s heavily muscled, but it’s smooth and lean, not bulky. From a physical life, not from hours spent in a gym.

I can see the faint lines of tattoos beneath the shirt, but I don’t move to unbutton it.

His eyes stay on me, and I meet them as my hands drift to his face. The stubble I’d noticed earlier is rough against my fingers as I trace his jaw, then the strong slope of his eyebrows.

It’s been a year since I touched a man. Longer since I did so this... leisurely.

My hands find their way into his dark hair, and I smile at how soft it is. His head tilts back a little and his eyes drift close. I don’t know if he’s putting on a show or actually enjoying this, but he seems calm at least.

And I think... I think this could work.

Working on my intimacy issues with him could help fix me, maybe even get me ready for a real relationship.

So I lean in slowly and press my mouth to his.

Like he said, I’m in control. While earlier had felt like being kissed, this feels like kissing. I move my mouth slowly over his, tracing the curve of his lower lip softly.

He really is a beautiful man.

And patient, too. He’s extremely patient while I take my time learning the shape of his mouth, then the angle of his jaw. He stays still, eyes closed, letting me explore.

I slowly drift back to his mouth, and when he eases his lips open, I meet his tongue with mine. It’s slow and light and just enough to make me want more.

My breath comes shorter, but it isn’t in panic.

Taking his hands from the bed beside him, I place them on my hips. His fingers flex, but they stay exactly where I put them, even as I wrap my arms around his neck and press a little closer to him.

We’re still just kissing, but I feel it in my entire body, all the way to my toes.

I pull back and take a deep breath, not knowing how to put what I want into words without embarrassing myself. Bright violet eyes meet mine as Rhysand runs his tongue across his lower lip. “Just say it.”

How can he read my face so well after just an hour of knowing me?

“Lean back,” I say, my face warm with a blush. “But don’t turn us over. I can’t... I feel trapped.”

Rhysand just nods, gripping my hips tighter, then lays down with me on top of him. My chest is against his, my legs resting in between his. It’s the closest I’ve been to someone in a long time, and I wait for the panic to set in, but none comes.

“You okay?”

A small part of me wishes he wouldn’t be so damn understanding and nice. It’s making me feel so incredibly stupid, even as it warms my heart.

I nod, then put my head down against his chest. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why?”

Looking back up, I meet his eyes hesitantly. “You’re probably so weirded out by me. Paying you just to come make out like teenagers.”

He smiles, and it makes some of the nerves untangle. “Silly woman. I could kiss you all night. You have the most delicious mouth.” He leans in and kisses me, as if to prove it, then makes a deep humming sound.

“That’s absurd,” I mutter, even though I feel a lot less anxious now.

Rhysand shakes his head, then says, “You taste like fucking candy.” His arms loosely wrap around my waist. “Tilt your head to the side and I’ll prove it.”

I do, and his mouth meets my neck, slowly but in a way that makes it feel like I’m being devoured. Tingles shoot down my body as he sweeps my hair off my neck to get better access, and a soft moan escapes me as he sucks on the spot between my shoulder and neck.

He pulls away enough to say, “You have a really sexy moan, too.”

My face goes scarlet, and he grins up at me, then we’re kissing again. Gods, the man can kiss. He’s letting me control everything, but it’s obvious he’s good at what he does.

Even though I’m almost delirious with lust--something I haven’t felt in a long, long time--I know this is enough for tonight. I’ve already had one panic attack, and I don’t want to push myself too hard.

So I pull back and tell him, “You can go. I don’t think... this is good for tonight, I think.”

“I feel like you’re not getting your money’s worth if I leave now,” he says, and if I could’ve sworn I hear a hint of sadness in his tone.

I shrug, not telling him the money for tonight was nothing to worry about. Instead, I just slide off him and stand up, straightening my shirt. “It’s was more than okay. Seriously. Thank you for being so understanding.”

Rhysand rises fluidly and grabs his jacket, then turns to me. Before he can speak, I say, “I actually wanted to talk to you about another appointment.”

After an awkward pause, he says quietly, “I don’t really do... repeats.”

“Oh.” There’s no way to hide the disappointment in my voice.

I’d thought that I’d be able to work with him slowly. Build on what we did tonight. The thought of having to find a different man and explain why I’m so emotionally stunted... shit.

What if I freak out again, in front of someone new?

Gods, no wonder he doesn’t want to come back. He’s already had to deal with an hour of my trauma. Who would ever sign up to do it again? I’m damaged goods.

“It’s not you, I promise. I’ve just had a few clients get sort of... attached. So I made a policy to not meet with women more than once.” He sounds nice and apologetic, and it grates my nerves a little.

Rejection is rejection no matter how you look at it.

And no matter how fucked up I am, I don’t need anyone’s pity.

But, like a big girl, I smile and nod. “I get it. It’s fine. I’ll find someone else. Your money is on the table.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Find someone else? What do you mean?”

My eyebrows fly up at how shocked he sounds. He just saw firsthand how not okay I am, and he’s surprised?

“I mean that I’ll find someone else. I have intimacy issues, and I need to work on them. I understand completely that you’re uncomfortable with that, and I’ll find someone who isn’t.”

There’s a flicker in his jaw. “And you’re planning on using the website for this someone?”

“It’s really none of your concern.”

“Feyre, there are some not so great people on there. You shouldn’t use-”

My patience snaps. “You have absolutely no right to lecture me. You don’t want the job, I will find someone else, since it’s such a goddamn burden. Now thank you very much for tonight, but you’re community service is done. You can go.”

There are too many emotions on his face to process them all, but I definitely register shock.

“I promise it isn’t about you, okay? You’re great. Hell, I’d want to sleep with you even if I wasn’t getting paid. But I have a policy, and-”

“Like I said, I understand. You can go now.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Don’t use the site to find another guy.”

There’s something about the command in his voice that grabs every last thread I’m hanging by and rips them free. I march over to him and jab a finger into his chest. “Do not tell me what to do. Ever.”

Rhysand eyes narrow, but it isn’t in anger. It’s like he’s looking at a puzzle, and he just figured out the piece he’d thought would fit won’t. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

I remove the finger-gun from his chest, but he doesn’t make any move to leave. Instead, he catches me completely off guard by saying, “I’ll do four more appointments.”

Rolling my eyes comes a little to easy. “Don’t do me any favors. I’m not your goddamn charity case.”

“No, because if you were, you’d probably be a little grateful.” Whatever retort I had planned dies in my throat. “But it’s not pity. I don’t want you getting hurt by some other guy from the site.”

There’s enough genuine concern in his voice for me to believe him. And the last thing I want is to put myself in danger.

But I still ask if he’s serious, because to be honest, it sounds perfect.

If I can fix myself in six appointments.

That’s a pretty big if.

“Yes, seriously. But I’m going to charge you more, and we can only meet here.”

I shrug because I sure as hell wasn’t about to invite him to my place. And unless he’s planning on charging enough to buy a house, it should be fine. “Okay.”

He glances at me, then down at himself, like he’s suddenly aware he’s still standing here. “Okay.”

And just like that, I’ve hired a hooker.

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Part 2 is here because I have no self-control. Let me know in the comments/my box if you want to be tagged :)

@trinitybailey2003 @zukos-simp @cursebreaker29 @sjmships @starrynightsbooks @lovemollywho @januarystears @perseusannabeth @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#feysand #feyre archeron #feyre #rhysand #feyre x rhys #rhys #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight

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duskowithapen · 4 years

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Of Flowers and Tattoo Needles Chapter Two

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The Flowers

Luka walked into the Secret Garden. Juleka took one look at his face, sighed, and led him towards the backroom. “Be glad I hadn’t had time to take this home,” she grumbled, emerging from the freezer with a tub of caramel ice cream tucked under one arm. After a moment, a spoon appeared under his nose.

Rose looked up from where she was doing paperwork. “What happened Luka? I thought you and Marinette would get along really well!”

With a groan, Luka flopped into a chair. “We were!” He totally-didn’t-whine. “She designed the most kick-ass looking tattoo that was everything I wanted, she gave me the friends and family discount, she didn’t laugh at me when I flirted…”

“Well, that’s an improvement,” Juleka sassed from her own ice cream rub – strawberries and cream, because she was a sap for Rose, who she was intermittently feeding. “But I can’t see the issue…?”

“It was all going well until her boyfriend showed up.” Luka glared over his ice cream. “So thanks for the warning, guys.”

Rose frowned and put down her pen. “What do you mean? Marinette doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

“She was moaning about it during our last girls night,” Juleka interjected. “Talking about how all the guys who came into her shop seemed to be over-muscled sissies who cried the second they saw the tattoo needle.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what to tell you. Him and Marinette were definitely close.” Luka was about ready to drown himself in his ice cream. Even the excitement over his tattoo had faded into abject misery. He looked into the depths of his slowly melting ice cream, recalling the last ten minutes with perfect clarity.

Marinette looked like she was going to devour him. Her eyes kept flicking between his, darting down to his lips and back. She had even started to lean in when someone coughed.

“Uh, excuse me, am I interrupting something?” It was a tall blonde, formally dressed in a pressed black suit that made his eyes stand out (yes, Luka noticed. He might have been besotted with Marinette, but he wasn’t blind.) While his question may have been innocent, the smirk that crossed his face wasn’t.

Marinette’s face lit up bright red as she jumped out of her seat. “Adrien! I wasn’t expecting you here till 4.30!”

“Look at the time, buginette. If I’d known you had another client, I would have waited.” Adrien laughed as he wrapped the smaller girl up in a hug, lifting Marinette off her feet.

Luka glanced down at his phone, while Marinette began to stutter out apologies. 4.28. He couldn’t have been a couple of minutes late, Luka thought bitterly.

“I’m really, really sorry Luka!” Marinette had come back, the blonde – Adrien – wandering away to look at dragon tattoos. “I didn’t realise how long I’d spent on your tattoo, and Adrien had been a last-minute booking, so I’d completely forgotten!”

“It’s okay, Marinette.” With an internal sigh, Luka gave her a smirk. “Gives me a reason to come back.”

It seemed to snap Marinette out of her anxious haze.

He didn’t know if it was his words or his smirk, but something snapped Marinette out of her anxious, apologetic haze. Her grin was evil when she stepped into his space. “You needed another reason? I thought you said you were fine with needles.”

Luka’s mouth opened and closed for a moment before he collected himself. “I’m fine with needles if you’re the one poking me with them.”

Whatever Marinette was going to say in return was interrupted, yet again, but Adrien. “Sorry Mari, but I’ve got dinner with Pere tonight, so if I’m getting this tattoo, I kinda need to get it now.”

Adrien was now shirtless.

That’s all Luka could process as Marinette stepped away with another apology.

Adrien was sitting in one of the tattoo stations, jacket and button up slung over the top of the chair. Marinette ruffled his hair as she walked past. “Don’t go rushing an artist, kitty. Otherwise you might end up with something less badass fire dragon and more Mushu.”

“Hey! Don’t go hating on Mushu!” Adrien gasped in faux-outrage, turning away with his nose in the air. “He’s travel-size!”

“Uh huh,” Marinette sighed as she walked back over to Luka. “Anyway, ignore him.” She held out a clipboard with a form on it. “If you just want to fill in your details, I can polish your design after I do Adrien’s tattoo, and then send it through for you to look at. If you like it, I can fit you in…” She paused and walked over to the desk near the door. “Well, I have a cancellation tomorrow morning, and I can get Nathaniel to do Ivan’s tattoo… I can fit you in for tomorrow at nine, if you’d like. If that’s too soon, I have openings next week?”

“Tomorrows fine,” Luka said as he wrote down his email. “And I’m sure I’ll love whatever you send me. Your rough sketch is incredible – I can’t want to see what it looks like in colour.”

The smile Marinette sent him was almost blinding. After Luka handed her back the clipboard, Marinette said goodbye and walked back towards Adrien.

The last thing he saw was Adrien’s smile as Marinette pecked him on the forehead. “Ready to get stabbed, mon chaton?”

Luka refused to look up as Rose and Juleka digested what he just told them. They shared a glance in that way all couples do – like they can communicate via intense eye contact – before bursting into laughter. Well, Rose burst into laughter. Juleka just chuckled and shook her head.

“You’ve got it bad, brother,” She said around a spoonful of ice cream, “It’s almost pitiful.”

Rose poked her with a pen. “Jules, don’t be mean to him!”

A scoff. “I can be mean to my brother as long as he remains a dumbass.”

Luka raised an eyebrow. “Oh really, sister? Do I have to mention the Prince Charming incident?” That had happened back in college, when Juleka had moped for days when she thought Rose had fallen for the foreign prince who she met on his visit to Paris. There had been much relief when Rose had clarified, no, the prince was too male for her refined lesbian tastes.

Alright, Luka had been pretty insufferable then too.

Juleka snapped the lid closed on her ice cream and turned to put it away. “You said that your appointment is at nine, right? Rose, we can open late tomorrow, right?”

“Ooo, yay!” Rose clapped, gathering her paperwork. “I can’t wait to see what kind of tattoo you’re getting Luka!”

“Do I get a choice in this?” He asked with a raised brow.

“No.” And Juleka pulled away his ice cream.

Later that night, Luka opened an email from [email protected]. Hey Luka! I’ve attached the full colour layouts for your tattoo. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow!

He was so glad he lived alone – there was no one there to watch him blush over an email from a girl who may or may not have a boyfriend. Then he looked at the photos. His breath caught.

These are incredible. The image was flat but drawn so that when the transfer paper was wrapped around his arm, the sides would line up. The snake was coloured in various shades of blue, with a lighter sea blue down what could be seen of the spine before merging into a deeper teal green near the belly. The belly itself was a pale yellow, blending in perfectly to the ring of daffodils just above where his elbow would be. As for the flowers themselves, they seemed to pop off the page. Bright blue iris’, with the edges of the petals tinted purple, bold red gladiolus’ with a white outline, pale yellow daffodils with brighter yellow middles… they all emerged from around the snakes body, with the gaps a deep shade of brown – the colour reminded him of his mothers’ mahogany chest – and tiny flickers of pale green leaves creating little spots of calm.

Beside the larger image was a single iris, connected to the main tattoo by two deep brown branches, with a scattering of leaves ringing it. The blues of this flower were paler – closer to the colour of his eyes, Luka realised with a blush – and the purple of the petal’s edges were the same shade as Juleka’s hair. The orange streak down each petal stood out starkly from the rest of the flower.

It was incredibly detailed, and just so much more than Luka ever thought a tattoo could be. He thought back to Rose and Juleka’s tattoos, how lifelike the flowers were, and found that he preferred this saturated, brighter than life version better. It matched perfectly against the calmer tones of the snake and stood out against the dark wood and pale greens of the supporting stems.

He sent back a response before going to bed. Luka couldn’t wait to go to Charmed Ink tomorrow.

This is amazing Marinette! I didn’t think your sketch could get any better, but you’ve blown all my expectations out of the water. Should have expected that such an incredible person can produce incredible art. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow – and get the tattoo.

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

The next day, a blushing Marinette waved Luka into the tattoo parlour, throwing a glare over her shoulder at where a red head was busy with another customer. “Luka! Hi! I only saw your email this morning – I was too tired yesterday to do much more than send you the design and go to bed.” She hopped up a little on her toes to press a kiss against his cheek, moving away before he could react.

“Rose! Juleka!” Rose was pulled into a hug that lifted the shorter blonde off the ground, while Juleka was greeted with a faire la bise, which his sister returned. “I believe I have you guys to thank for my newest customer!”

“Well if anyone deserves a Marinette Original tattoo, it’s Luka!” Rose chirped, “And he refused to show us the design – I can’t wait to see it!”

Juleka smirked from her other side, and Luka instantly felt on guard. It was never a good think when his sister made that face. “It’s something sappy, isn’t it? Mine and Mum’s name on a ship, or the score for his first song, or his guitar? Gods know he rarely goes anywhere without it – I had to convince him not to bring it with him today.”

Luka raised an eyebrow and wandered closer to Marinette. Her cheek kiss restored some of his earlier confidence, and he leaned into her space a little. “Marinette could make the most sappy tattoo concept into something that could even fit in with your Lady of Midnight, goth chic style. After all,” And here Luka returned Juleka’s smirk with his own, “She managed to turn your love song into a pretty cool looking tattoo.”

There was a hint of a blush on Juleka’s face as she pushed at his shoulder, making him wrap an arm around Marinette’s shoulders so that they didn’t both go over. Her first tattoo idea had been the Always from Harry Potter, surrounded by roses – Rose had always been a big fan of the series, and had actually cried onto Juleka’s shoulder as she read the last book – but when Juleka came back from the design appointment, it had been with the flower wreath concept. It maintained the original intent behind the tattoo – a permanent reminder of Rose’s impact on her life and of her feelings – while being truer to Juleka’s style and personality. Rose had loved it enough to get the same one.

Marinette glanced up at him, not bothering to move out from under his arm, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Ahh, so you’re one of those musicians. Any girl would have to fight your guitar for your affections.”

“With you, Marinette,” Luka said with a wink, “There wouldn’t be much of a battle.”

Another blush bloomed across Marinette’s cheekbones as she stuttered, almost drowned out by Juleka’s fake-gagging and Rose’s squeals. Despite that, it was a nice moment.

Of course, with Luka’s luck, someone had to break it.

The door of the tattoo parlour was slammed open, and a woman with black hair cut in a no-nonsense bob stormed inside, one hand curled around a wooden rapier. Behind her stood the blonde from last night – Adrien – and Luka’s stomach dropped.

“Marinette,” The scary woman started, “What exactly have you been tattooing on my fiancé’s chest?”

#miraculous ladybug #ao3 #fanfiction #of flowers and tattoo needles #lukanette #chapter two #tattoo artist marinette #tattoo artist/florist au

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abzzz3 · 3 years

Text

No Soul To Love - Part Three

gif credit to @sharingloki

Part of a multipart fic requested by @leniram1890

Summary: The soul is a powerful thing. It has the ability to heal people when harnessed, but also has a will of it’s own when you find a soulmate. Your soul has been ripped from you for the very purpose of healing others, and now you’re just trying to have as normal of a life as possible. That’s when tall, dark and handsome showed up, flipping everything onto it’s head and forcing you to hope for more than this life you’ve been damned to.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Tags: @leniram1890 @kcd15 @deathkat657

Warnings: vague eluding to potential drowning

Word Count: 1,735

Notes: This chapter definitely didn’t go how I originally planned it to, but it’ll probably make the rest of the fic better so I’m not mad. If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know, constructive criticism is welcome.

_______________________________________________________________

“So what happened back there? Your friend said it was a migraine” Loki asked, as you both walked along the street together, in the vague direction of your apartment

“Yeah, I get them randomly sometimes, never know when they’re about to happen” ‘Because I never get warning’ you added in your own head

“When did they start? Do you know what caused them to begin?” Loki continued to ask

“They started 6 months ago, and I know why they started but there’s nothing I can do to stop them. Believe me, I’ve tried” You answered, your tone defeated

Loki’s brows furrowed and he looked as though he was deep in thought, silent for a few minutes as you both continued to walk. You lead the whole way, although Loki was so in tune with your every movement that to any onlookers it looked as though you both knew exactly where you were going. You supposed it was just because you knew that he didn’t in fact know where it was going, that you could see the tiny delay in his movements when responding to you.

“This is me” You said, stopping outside a red brick apartment building that looked a little run down but still nice enough to be a proper home, if a little outdated

Loki looked upwards, as if inspecting the building, and then back down at you

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” He asked once again

You chuckled, a small smile creeping across your lips

“Yes, I’ll be fine. I just need to shower and get an early night’s sleep and I’ll be good as new in the morning”

“Very well”

You smiled and made your way up the stair to the main entrance, keys in hand, when Loki called after you

“y/n!” you turned around to face him “perhaps it’s better if I don’t come back to the store again, I saw the fuss I made for you all today . . . you, especially”

“Oh . . .” you heard the disappointment in your voice and was surprised by it “if you want, but Loki, you didn’t cause my-”

“Is there any chance I could have books brought to me, instead?” He asked, watching you intently

“You mean like delivery? Sure, I’ll give you the store number”

You reached into your handbag as you came back down the stairs and handed him a business card for the store “Just call it when you want to order anything new, there will be a delivery fee to pay as well, but it won’t be much-”

“That won’t be a problem” He assured, taking the card from your hand, fingers brushing slightly as he continued to look at you “Thank you, y/n, until next time”

Loki gave a slight bow and walked off without another word, leaving you slightly speechless as you watched him walk off, before heading inside and into your apartment.

The space wasn’t fancy by any means, but it was home. The linoleum in the kitchen/dining area was coming up in one of the corners and it was scuffed in some places through years of use, but you had craftily hidden most of it with furniture and plants, and the living room had an old brown carpet that you hated and could only hide to a certain extent underneath a couple of rugs. It was cosy though, with each wall filled with bookcases, overflowing with books that had been either read or were on the to-be-read list, or even some favourites that had been read so often that they had anything from coffee spills dried into the pages to broken spines, held together by superglue because until pages fell out and were lost you refused to replace them. This small space was your kingdom since you moved in four months ago, when you could no longer bare to live in your old house and also couldn’t afford the bills by yourself anymore.

Most nights, you would come home and make dinner before sitting down with a book and read until your eyes started to droop, or you could no longer put off doing the adulty things life required of you when you lived on your own and had to look after your own space. Tonight though, you ate some leftovers, had a hot shower and went straight to bed, still thinking about the day’s events and Loki’s reactions to it all.

“You know you could have warned me a bit sooner, I nearly passed out in the bath last night, Adam.” You scolded over the phone as you got ready

Some weeks had passed by now and Adam had continued to draw on you without effective warning beforehand, and you were furious after last night.

“I don’t always get a chance to warn you y/n, he just showed up at my door and had the money there, I couldn’t just turn him away. Besides, you survived and still have your job. You’re fine” Adam sounded as though he didn’t have a care in the world right now, and it boiled your blood.

“No, I’m not fine.” you snapped “I’m anything but fine.”

“Calm down, there are people out there a lot worse off than you. Remember that next time you try to berate me” He responded, his voice starting to turn to a warning tone

“Just warn me next time”

“Fine, I have a client coming in today, and I was going to give you a break with this one but now I’ve decided otherwise. This one will probably hurt” He snapped and hung up the phone

You wanted to scream in frustration and throw something but you knew it would make no difference, so you just took a deep breath and grabbed your bag before heading out the door and to work. The walk was uneventful and the only things you were going into work for today was a team meeting before the store opened. You walked inside and saw Mr. and Mrs. Bates already there, along with Tessa who was just putting her bag down so must have only arrived a couple minutes before you.

“Good morning ladies, we’re just waiting on Sean now and then we’ll get started” Mr. Bates greeted, and as though he was summoned by the sound of his name Sean, the new employee, walked through the front door and greeted everyone which meant Mr. Bates could get straight into the meeting.

“Now, as we’re all aware by now the store has become much more popular over the last month, to the point where we’re making more than double our usual revenue. This has solidified Mrs. Bates’ and my thoughts on something we’ve been discussing and putting into the works for about a year now.”

You all waited in suspense for what was to come next

“We’ve come across the opportunity to open a store upstate. There is an old storefront that has been vacant for sometime now in the town where we live, and if we’re being honest” Mr. Bates gave his wife a cheeky smile “We’re both a bit bored at home and having gotten a taste for work again over the last month we don’t particularly want to stop working in the store any time soon. We won’t be able to run the upstate store by ourselves though, and this is where you guys come in.” He looked around at all three of us

“If any of you would like, we will be needing one staff member upstate, otherwise we are also able to hire someone from the area. No one has to answer today, but we will be opening the store two weeks from now” Mr. Bates nodded in the way he usually did to say that the conversation had finished and we were each free to go.

You sat there thinking about it for a moment and before you even realized it your body was already standing and moving towards Mr. Bates

“I’d like to move to the new store, Mr. Bates” The words tumbled out of your mouth

He looked shocked that you had given your answer so soon

“You don’t have to make up your mind yet child, this is a big decision” He cautioned

“I understand that, but I have no one here in the city and we all know city life isn’t really for me anyway. It would probably be better for my health anyway, being somewhere quieter” You explained to him, watching him nod thoughtfully

There was also that fact that now that the opportunity was in front of you, the thought of being further away from Adam was also a massive driver in your decision. You would give anything to be as far away from that man as possible.

“The town is small, there isn’t any nightlife or many people your age y/n” He continued to try, to make you take your time thinking about it

You just gave him a knowing look, as if to say ‘you know I don’t care for nightlife anyway’ which made him chuckle at his own comment

“Very well, if you truly want to. There is an apartment upstairs that was also part of the sale, which you can rent from us as well, unless you would rather stay where you currently are and travel back and forth” His brows furrowed with a disapproving look as he mentioned the long drives it would take to get to and from work

“I’d love the apartment, thank you. You’ve both been very generous to me” You thanked, looking at the husband and wife duo with grateful eyes.

You finalized some details, leaving the conversation with Mr. Bates advising he would email through all the details and contract to do with the apartment, and all the necessary info about the new store and how/when it will be opened and run.

The walk home was a thoughtful one as well as an intense one, making lists in your head of everything that had to be done and when it had to be done for you to move upstate in time for the opening of the new store. As scary and spur of the moment the decision was, you were also very excited. The only thing you would really be leaving in the city was Tessa and the both of you agreed you would catch up every second weekend.

#loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki x you #avengers #marvel #Loki Laufeyson #reader insert #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #multi part #requested #leniram1890

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beyondconfessor · 3 years

Text

Principle Decisions [10/24]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman

Summary: Were they occasional partners who engaged in a professional relationship based on a mutual exchange? Or were they occasionally a patron and client, engaging in a relationship based on kink.

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.

By the next morning, Zelda had awoken feeling unrefreshed. Although she and Lilith did not engage in any forms of sexual activity––outside of the spanking sessions-–Zelda felt the night roll over her. I’m proud of you ringing through her ears as loud as they had the night before.

Zelda had awoken on the lounge, wrapped in blankets, feeling exhausted with weight on her chest.

She hadn’t dreamt, only moments of respite with her waking up to occasionally put more firewood into the fire, before falling asleep again, rolling through her emotions.

As Lilith quietly made her way down the stairs, Zelda closed her eyes, pretending to drift asleep as she heard the sound of the woman shuffling around her house, before she began making breakfast. Only as the movement of pans was too loud to ignore, did she decide to ‘wake up’ and join her, sitting at the table as Lilith pulled out eggs, bacon, and brought done spices from the rack hanging above the stove.

“There’s orange juice in the fridge, otherwise, feel free to make yourself tea.”

Zelda went for the latter option, boiling water in the jug, before pouring into a pot of black tea. It was enough, she felt. But by the time that she’d set out the cups, and poured the tea, Lilith had finished cooking the bacon and eggs, setting them on a plate each and sat down from across her.

“Sleep well?”

“Enough,” Zelda lied, cutting into the eggs to see that Lilith liked hers sunny-side up.

She ate them without complaint, with pepper and salt, and ate her bacon too without further conversation, feeling the tiredness carry over. More than once, she shifted on the seat, trying to ease the sting, and caught Lilith glancing up with a smirk. Knowing the reason for her shifting discomfort.

“Your clothes are dried. I set them aside from you.”

“Thank you,” Zelda said. The entire situation was as strange today as it was yesterday. By chance, she had taken the forest road, and instead of ending up on the other side, where she would come out near the Spellman home, she ended up on this side, near the Wardwell residence (so to speak). And then had engaged in kink with the woman, who opened up her home to her, before setting a place on her lounge.

Because sleeping in the same bed would have been too intimate.

If Zelda was honest, she’d considered making her way up the stairs and seeing what changes would bring. She wanted, quietly ardently, to slide between the sheets and press her lips to Lilith’s mouth and feel her sigh against her. She wanted to draw her hands over her body and feel her whimper and moan and quiver against her.

But instead, she’d lain awake, thinking about doing it and then not.

Perhaps it was a mistake as she watched Lilith stare over her plate at her, but if Zelda was honest, it was becoming difficult to work out their relationship. Were they occasional partners who engaged in a professional relationship based on a mutual exchange? Or were they occasionally a patron and client, engaging in a relationship based on kink.

Zelda wasn’t sure.

Furthermore, she didn’t know which answer she preferred. And as Lilith smirked at her and Zelda buried herself in tea, blinking tiredly at the woman as she squirmed in the kitchen seat, all she could think was how desperately she wanted to feel the other woman’s fingers buried between her thighs.

“What are you thinking about?” Lilith asked as she set her knife and fork down.

“Nothing of interest.”

“I’ve just washed a most lovely shade of red colour your face, so I highly doubt that.”

Zelda drew in a breath and looked away. “Don’t be absurd,” she commented.

It was the weekend––but her car was still bogged and the more she left it alone, the more likely that a bear (or some creature) was likely to make her way inside of it. And she had a terrible feeling that somehow she’d forgotten to lock the door.

So she shook her head, trying not to remember how it felt to be fucked by the woman, pressed against a hard surface as she felt her tongue curl around her clit and her fingers working their way inside of her.

If she didn’t know better, she would suspect that Lilith had dosed her breakfast with an aphrodisiac.

But she did know better, and knew that the arousal was entirely dependent on the fact that Lilith was giving her a look that seemed to say ‘I could have you on this table in a few seconds if I wanted it’.

Zelda cleared her throat and drunk deeper into the tea, trying to ignore how Lilith continued to look over, across their food. It was still raining outside, but a dreary rain, trickling down the window, with grey skies. It was nowhere near as bad as yesterday, but Zelda suspected it was unlikely to let up any time soon.

She would need to get her car pulled by something more powerful. She would need to call a mechanic.

She focused on staring out the window, trying not to remember how Lilith had taken her in the garden.

“Do you have any clients today?” she asked.

“I do not,” Lilith informed her. “Free day to focus on work. Did you want me to take you home?”

Zelda nodded. It’d be easier to get Hilda to take her to her car than it would be to walk there from here. She couldn’t remember how long it took her. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all, but it would be a favour owed.” Zelda turned and looked to the woman, watching her laugh. “that was a joke, of course.”

A pity, she thought but didn’t dare speak the words. She wouldn’t mind owning the ever so evasive Principle Wardwell a favour. The idea if being on her knees had never seemed so attractive.

I’m proud of you.

Zelda looked away and felt the pain shift through her. She wished the woman hadn’t said those words together, but it didn’t matter.

After breakfast, she dressed in her last night��s clothes, having parted ways with her stockings. Standing in the bathroom, with a spare toothbrush been provided, she brushed her teeth and tried to bring some semblance of tame to her well-tussled hair.

She spent most of the night thinking of Lilith, going as far as considering to masturbate on the woman’s lounge, before ultimately deciding against it. It felt somehow impolite and yet…expected? No, that wasn’t the word. It felt like there’d be an invitation between words stated that Zelda could have climbed the stairs and slipped into the woman's bed, but she hadn’t.

And now she was regretting it. Though it was probably the right decision, despite how achingly wet she'd been after the spanking. Even now, as she smoothed the material of the dress, she felt her hands press over the welts, leaving her to draw in a tight breath.

She could seduce her, Zelda realised. It wouldn’t be difficult to accidentally brush her fingers against the woman, and feel her respond in kind. After all, she’d done masterfully last night to get the spanking. How difficult would it be to draw the woman out of her underwear?

Setting the toothbrush down, she left the bathroom, at least feeling some semblance of clean with her washed and dried clothes.

Lilith waited for her the lounge room, slipping into her boots and pulling a coat off the hook to draw on. The rain was pattering down, and Zelda longed to feel something. But she followed the woman, watching as she opened an umbrella to step outside.

The umbrella held over them both as she walked them to her car, opening up the passenger door first, allowing Zelda passage before climbing into the driver’s seat herself. In the car, the rain continued to patter down on the windscreen as she pulled out of the driveway, and onto the highway.

It was quiet for a moment, and Zelda sat in the seat, back straight.

“I don’t think my car will survive the fire roads, so I’m afraid you’ll have to reach out to someone with a truck.”

“I will thank you.”

“But I’ll still need you to give me directions. I know you're on the other side of the forest, but I don’t know where that is.”

“Oh, it’s…if you drive into town, you take a left at the library.”

“Ah,” Lilith hummed. “Easy enough.”

Silence fell again, and Zelda propped her head against her arm on the window, feeling the tiredness drift over her. She wished she’d slept better.

Lilith was careful in how she drove in the rain, slower than Zelda would have been and yet Zelda was ultimately grateful for it. This should allow her the opportunity to learn more about the woman, and yet all she could think about was last night.

“What does the girlfriend experience involve?”

Zelda blinked, realising that the sentence had come out of her mouth. She flushed and looked away, trying to play it off with an air of indifference, but she could feel the woman’s eyes on her, a soft chuckle breaking in the space between them.

“Mm, for most clients, it usually involved dinner, drinks, and then we would return to their hotel room and negotiate from there. Are you looking to understand the girlfriend experience specifically, or are you trying to enquire as to what deluxe means in this context?”

“The latter,” Zelda said, pleased with how calm she sounded.

“Well, for you I would probably advise to book in advanced and suggest somewhere in the city for the weekend. You’d pick me up, we’d drive to the city, get a hotel there and then get drinks and dinner the first night where I would spend every opportunity to seduce you in public, and then the next day we would get breakfast together, go out and visit the art museum where I would impress you with all of my knowledge in the fine arts before I would seduce you somewhere entirely inappropriate where you weren’t allowed to make a noise. If you were especially noisy, I’d have to gag you…, and I’m sure you can imagine with what.”

Zelda squirmed in her seat, already picturing it.

“And then, we’d get a late lunch, venture around, go back to the hotel where I would ensure you’re appropriately dressed in ropes, or with a toy, before taking you out to dinner, and then, if you were so inclined, I would take you a private invitee only club where you could see other like-minded people, or we could go off and find somewhere inappropriate to have sex. There’s an old Catholic Church that I know how to get into, and I could fuck you in the confessional booth.”

Zelda blinked, feeling the flush fill her face. “Pull over,” she said.

“Pardon?” Lilith enquired innocently. They were still on the highway, five minutes outside of town.

“Pull over,” Zelda said again, turning and looking at her. Lilith grinned, obeying as she pulled over, off the side of the road. The rain still fell outside, reasonably heavy as it washed down the windows.

Zelda drew in a deep breath, unbuckling her seat belt, but Lilith was faster, and somehow, the moment the seatbelt was off from Zelda, Lilith was on her lap, kissing her like the world was ending.

Zelda drew up, pressing against Lilith. She slid her hands up her waist before she was tugging the jacket from Lilith’s shoulders and pulling up her dress as Lilith did the same with her. And then Lilith’s mouth was hot against her shoulder, nipping over the skin and Zelda was keening as her breast was palmed through the material of her dress.

This was insane, absolutely insane, and yet she couldn’t help but not care a single bit when Lilith was biting down on her shoulder as her fingers pushed up the material of her dress.

Her fingers stroked purposefully between her thighs, and Zelda could feel the effect on her already. If she wasn’t careful, this was going to be over as fast as it began.

And then Lilith was kissing her again, lips parting with a soft laugh as she slid underneath the band of the underwear and stroked Zelda with purposeful intent.

In a short, firm stroke against her sex, Zelda lifted her hips, wanting her deeper insider. She could feel the woman’s focus to tease her, and as Zelda’s nails pressed harder into her back, an urging moan pushing against her mouth, she felt Lilith submit to her need.

Her fingers slid inside, and Zelda gasped at the feeling. At how the woman filled her as she pressed her thumb against her clit, purposefully drawing over her. Zelda sighed, dropping her head to Lilith’s shoulder and drew her hands over Lilith’s thighs, clutching at them as she rocked her hips.

“You should have come to bed with me last night,” Lilith said in her ear. “I would have fucked you like you really wanted.”

Zelda bit her lip, eyes squeezing shut. “I should have,” she agreed.

“Mm. I have all sorts of lovely items to use. But I know what you really want.”

“And what’s that?” Zelda asked, pulling away to press against the seat of the car. She looked up, into the blue eyes that seemed all the more bright in the dark interior. The woman’s mouth parted to pant hot, sharp gasps.

“You want to seem me climax. I could have tied you up and made you watch.” She leant forward then until her lips were against her ear, “I spent most of the night masturbating waiting for you. I’d hoped you would interrupt me. All the things I would have done at your mercy…”

Zelda drew in a breath, nails digging into the woman’s thighs. She could feel herself on the brink of orgasm as it began to tug low inside of her. She squeezed hard against the woman’s fingers, seeing if she could…

“Don’t you wonder how your name sounds my lips? Do you wonder how I sound if you slid inside of me?”

Zelda’s fingers slid higher up the woman’s skirt. “Yes,” she admitted.

“Uh-uh. Hands still. You missed your opportunity, and now you’re mine.” Zelda drew in a breath, holding back something guttural between a whine and a growl. She wanted Lilith. She wanted to make Lilith shiver as she had, to feel her clench around her fingers and moan in her ear. “Say it, say you’re mine.”

Zelda swallowed, softening as the woman the kissed her gently against the throat. She didn’t know what would happen if she didn’t, but she found herself nodding. “I’m yours,” she agreed with a sigh.

Lilith laughed, kissing her throat again as her fingers continued to stroke inside of her, somehow pressing at just the right spots, spreading wide as she continued to draw over her clit with her thumb. “Good girl,” she purred, and Zelda whined, actually whined like a fucking animal as she almost climaxed at that moment. “You’re okay,” Lilith said, “Don’t slip away from me now.” And then Lilith was pulling back again, so her face took up the whole of Zelda’s view.

One hand still buried in Zelda’s underwear, the other stroked at Zelda’s cheek, soothing her. As if she was calming her.

And Zelda shivered at the tenderness. It was a lot if she was honest. Too much, almost. Like Lilith could love her, and that was impossible. She couldn’t love her. She couldn’t. Because if she––

“Look at me,” Lilith urged, eyes holding onto her steady. And then she pressed forward and kissed, and all the noise in Zelda’s head ceased, and there was only Lilith.

And then Lilith was kissing down her throat again, and it was so soft and tender, and Zelda hated how much she craved it, how much she needed it. Was this what people wanted from the girlfriend experience? The feeling of a person’s hands-on your as if they could hold you together.

Lilith’s mouth nipped at her throat as if summoning her thoughts, and Zelda sighed, tilting her head to kiss the bare skin under Lilith’s jaw.

She felt the orgasm coaxed from her and Zelda came clenching around the fingers, nails digging into Lilith’s thighs, but it was softer than she expected. Softer than the other times, and it left her wanting more.

But Lilith’s mouth pressed to hers sweetly, fingers sliding out and Zelda knew that she couldn’t do this. Perhaps the woman was right. Perhaps she did need to see a therapist, because sex didn’t use to leave her feeling like she might break, and yet this woman was able to shatter every defence she built.

“Are you alright?” Lilith asked, and there was a hand stroking her cheek again.

Zelda nodded because she needed to, leaning her head into the hand. After all, it felt nice. She couldn’t say what she really wanted––which was that for the first time, Lilith made her acutely aware of how lonely she was. How much she missed the affection and attention of another person.

But it was too close to saying that she actually liked her, and that, in its self, wasn’t something she could allow.

So she soothed the growing pain, pressing them deep down and brushed her own thoughts away. “Last night you said that you hadn’t barred me from your services, is that true?”

“It is. We can still negotiate; you just need to tell me what you want.”

“I want you to do what you did last night.”

“Caning or discipline?”

“All of it.”

Lilith looked at her as if she was studying her very carefully. “We’ll negotiate it,” she said. “I like playing with you Zelda, but I meant what I said, I think there’s a part of you that’s trying to sabotage yourself, I don’t want to play a part in that.”

“I don’t want to sabotage myself. I want relief. The very first time I engaged your service, you made me feel relaxed in a way I didn’t expect. I want that, I don’t care what I have to do to get that feeling again, but I want that.”

Lilith gave a genuine smile, nodding. “Well, how about next Sunday? I’ll book for two hours with you, and we can sit down and talk in further detail about what you want in a scene, and we can test some things out.”

“I would like that.”

“Of course you would, it’s me,” Lilith said as she manoeuvred in a way to draw herself over Zelda’s thigh, actually showing that she wasn’t wearing any underwear before she slid back into the driver’s seat.

Zelda swallowed, turning and looking at her. “Can I––“

“No,” Lilith said, clicking her seatbelt in place before she turned back and looked at her. “I told you, you missed your chance. Now you have to suffer the consequences.”

Zelda drew in a breath, putting her seatbelt in place before she adjusted her clothes. “I’ll have you know that I’m quite good in bed.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, but if you want to hear me moan your name in the throes of ecstasy, then you have to work for that privilege.”

Zelda crossed her arms, sitting back in the seat as she tried to ignore the growing arousal between her thighs. She didn’t know how Lilith managed to shift her moods so easily, but now she was back in the same state she’d been before they pulled over. And she was sure Lilith knew it.

Giving a small cough, she looked out of the window, watching the scenery pass her by.

Once they entered the town, she began directing her to home. The woman eventually drove her to the front of the driveway before the Spellman home, pausing to look at Zelda. “Did you want me to drop you off up at the top?”

Zelda sighed. “Perhaps not,” she said. “The last thing I need is Sabrina seeing and asking questions.”

Lilith nodded before reaching into her backseat and pulling out the umbrella. “Take this. You can give it back to me next week then.” Zelda’s fingers brushed over Lilith’s as she took it.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Zelda paused, a part of her wanting to lean in and kiss again, but she didn’t. Instead, she unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car, opening the umbrella. It wasn’t raining nearly as heavy, but she made her away up the loose gravel driveway, listening as Lilith pulled out of the edge of the driveway and returned home.

It was a strange turn of events, and Zelda wasn’t sure of what story she would speak of––as certainly a story would be needed––but decided that that was a problem for later.

Now she would focus on the fact that she needed to get her car out from the forest road, with the only truck she knew belonging to one Mr Harvey Kinkle. Perhaps if she raised the issue with Sabrina, she would offer to help out, and it would be a learning experience for them all.

Zelda opened the front door of the manor, setting the umbrella aside. She could smell the faint perfume of Lilith on her and hoped that it wasn’t so prominent that her family would also smell it. But as she made her way through the house, it seemed to be that everyone was out.

She trailed through the kitchen, dining room and parlour, glancing in her own office before making her way upstairs.

On the way to her room, she noticed Ambrose seeming to sneak out of his room, which only caused her to pause, watching as he quietly pressed the door shut and turned on his heel and faced her, surprise washing over his face as he tugged his robe close.

“Auntie!” He yelped. “Hello.”

“Ambrose,” she said, looking him over. “Do you have a guest over?”

“Ah, yes,” he admitted shyly. “Luke and I…were studying last night and happened to––“

“Studying?” she echoed dubiously.

Ambrose flushed before he paused and looked to her. “And where were you, last night?”

“My car was bogged and the river flooded, I was stuck on the other side of town,” she said, lifting her eyebrows to make her point.

“And I suppose that’s why you have a hickey on your collar bone.” Zelda looked down, trying to see if she could spot the mark on her neck only for Ambrose to laugh, making his point clear. “As I suspect. I’m pleased, Auntie. It’s been a while since you looked happy.”

“Happy?” she scoffed. “I don’t know what you think is going on, but I assure you that it’s not that.”

“Mm, well. I’m going to drop downstairs and make breakfast for my study companion. You should get some sleep. It looks like something kept you up.”

Zelda drew in a breath, crossing her arms. There was no point in defending herself, Ambrose may be using incorrect evidence to draw his conclusion, but it wasn’t far off its mark and she’d rather her family suspect a relationship than being concerned about what she was truly getting up to.

Following her nephew’s advice, she went to bed to sleep for only an hour or so before she got up and showered, doing her hair and completing her make-up as she came downstairs. The rain had stopped, but the skies remained grey, and the air was cold as she came out to the veranda with a cigarette and cup of tea, coming to stand beside Ambrose who was sitting outside with a book.

“Your friend has left?”

“Had some essay to complete,” he said, before turning to eye her. Zelda didn’t miss the way he studied her, as if looking for something before he turned back to his book. “I’ve requested to speak to Prudence,” he said.

“Oh?”

“You’re right. It’s time I cleared the air. I don’t wish to pursue whatever this might be with Luke if I’m still uncertain as to where I stand with her.”

Zelda drew the cigarette to her lips thoughtfully, feeling the nicotine rush through her lungs. “Did she ever mention Professor Blackwood to you?”

“Blackwood? No. Should she have?”

Zelda drew the cigarette to her mouth again, letting her thoughts wander over what Constance had said, the frantic state she was in about Faustus’ emotions pulling away. She had noticed on a few occasions that he seemed deeper in thought than usual but had placed it down to administrative tasks weighing over him heavily. Faustus had eyes on becoming the Dean eventually, and was often taking on tasks and projects that would reflect well on him should the Dean suddenly drop dear.

“No,” she answered. “I just know that she’s trying to get the position for next year in Faustus’ study.”

“Is she? She was entirely uninterested last semester,” he commented, “even joked as far to say it was a complete waste of school fundings, but I suppose opinions can change.”

Zelda flicked the ash of the cigarette, feeling the thoughts swirl. Did it matter, was it even her concern? Whatever he was doing to destroy his own marriage was between him and Constance, and her own involvement would likely only make matters worse, or reflect poorly on her.

And yet, she couldn’t help but recall how frantic Constance had been, how certain of an affair was going on despite how she mused otherwise.

A car pulled up into the driveway, and Zelda watched as her niece jumped out of the passenger side, waving goodbye to one of her friends as she made her way into the home. She seemed to step on the porch and then look to Zelda, noticing that she was there for the first time. “Aunt Zee,” she greeted.

Zelda’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as Sabrina adjusted her bag on her shoulder, looking…guilty about something.

“Sabrina, I take it you’re safe and well.”

“I am,” she said. “Aunt Hilda said you got caught on the other side of the river. Did you have to stay the night at the office?”

Zelda drew the cigarette to her lips, considering lying, but it would only make it difficult when it came to the fact that her car was bogged. “No,” she answered, “I tried to come through on the forest roads and ended up getting bogged. I’ll need to ask one of your friends’ a favour.”

“You should ask Theo’s father. He has a thing for you, you know?” Sabrina said, with a sweet smile.

Zelda’s brows rose at the comment as she snuffed out the cigarette. “Perhaps, I shall. Could you enquire with Theo?”

Sabrina nodded and ran off inside the house. Zelda sighed, listening to her steps recede upstairs.

“Was anyone home last night?”

“Aunt Hilda was until rather late,” Ambrose advise. “Advised she needed to help out at the bookshop as apparently the roof caved in and was starting to flood the storage.”

Zelda gave a small laugh to herself. While the excuse likely had some valid merit, she suspected that whoever the owner was may have had other intentions, and given that it was lunchtime and her sister was decidedly not home, that had come to fruition.

“So if you were bogged on the forest road,” Ambrose said. “Where did you seek shelter for the night?”

Zelda picked up her coffee, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray. “And why are you so curious? For all you know, I sought shelter in my car.”

Ambrose smiled, digging his nose into the book, knowing not to push further. Nonetheless, Zelda found herself amused rather than annoyed by his enquiry as she made her way to the office. She set her coffee down on the desk and then rolled her shoulders, still feeling the effects of the lack of sleep roll over her.

The nap had helped, but not much.

Not to mention that despite the shower, she could still smell Lilith’s perfume on her. Not to mention that every movement she made ached where the cane had struck her, all of it acting as a reminder to Lilith’s words, telling her that she waited for her to come upstairs.

Clicking her computer on, she reviewed through her emails. There was nothing of interest outside of usual administrative work. Students trying to beg for extensions, staff requesting assistance in the location of missing personalised mugs, and a few status updates from Faustus, as well as the Dean about other departments.

Zelda clicked through them, organising her emails and returned to working on her lesson plans. Since her computer had been wiped, she had begun compiling new books to help with her article but had overall left it to be while she worked on her current workload. It brought an annoyance to her at the fact that she was behind on her self-made deadlines, but it would have to be something that she just let go.

“Aunt Zee?” Sabrina asked, knocking on the doorframe. “I’ve spoken to Theo, and he’s agreed to ask his dad for help. They’ll be around later this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Sabrina. Did Theo happen to mention what his father would like in thanks for helping?”

Her niece smirked. “Perhaps a date,” she enquired. “After all, you mentioned that you’re not seeing anyone lately, right?”

Zelda’s eyes flicked up, over the monitor to glance at her niece. “I’m not,” she assured. “Despite that, however, it still does not mean that I have time to be sitting around dating others.”

Sabrina shrugged. “Doesn’t have to be dating, you could just go out for a few drinks and see if you like each other.”

Zelda sighed, returning to her work. “I’ll think about it,” she advised, having no such plan even to consider it. She stood firm with her opinion that she had no interest in dating, furthermore to the point, her current needs were being met quite well.

Sabrina made a soft humming noise as if she was trying to make a point before she disappeared, laughing. Zelda wasn’t sure as to what she was up to but was concerned that it was mischief. She still had no clue as to what Sabrina did on that sleepover a few weekends back, and as of late, her niece was becoming all the more secretive.

She still didn’t think that Sabrina had moved her relationship with Harvey to the next level. Still, there was a strangeness to the way Sabrina acted, that had she been more concerned, would have to lead her to believe that perhaps Sabrina was getting involved in something she shouldn’t, such as the local gang.

But she pushed the thought aside. If Sabrina were in trouble, she’d reach out to either herself or Ambrose, and Ambrose, in turn, would reach out to her, and she would solve it.

“Sabrina?” she called.

Her niece came back, head ducking around the corner. “Yes, Auntie?”

“Did you need help building your CV?”

“No, already done. I got a job at the bookshop with Aunt Hilda.”

Zelda paused, looking up at Sabrina as she felt a strange twist in her stomach. “Oh?”

“Just for Thursdays and Saturdays,” Sabrina said. “Promise it won’t interfere with everything else.”

“Excellent, I pleased you’ll be working so hard.”

Sabrina nodded before leaving, while Zelda felt her stomach turn. If she was working with Hilda, she suspected that very little work would get done. Sabrina’s friends would likely visit, and Sabrina would spend all of her time speaking with them, only occasionally doing any of her work.

Zelda looked away, drawing in a breath. She shouldn’t think so harshly on niece, after all, it was still an opportunity for responsibility. And if she were fired fro her first job by Hilda or her boss, then all the better, Sabrina would learn that she couldn’t coast through life, hoping that her general charm would save her.

Zelda’s nail ran over the office desk before she returned to her lesson planning, building her lessons for the next few weeks.

She drafted an email to Faustus, enquiring as to Shirley, before scrapping it entirely, knowing that it came off too contrived. She drafted an email to Prudence then, setting a time to go over everything on Monday, before recalling that Monday she had a meeting booked in with Elspeth for the extension she requested.

Zelda drew back, pulling out her planner to flick through it. Her week was excessively full, from classes to meetings, to Sabrina’s school sports and Lilith (with she penned as a meeting for funding, given that she didn’t expect to do any such thing for some time).

Closing her eyes, she felt a wave of nausea roll over her from all the work she was doing. She was exhausted. Utterly exhausted and now her coffee was cold.

Draining the cup, she stood up and held her position as a rush of dizziness washed over her. Perhaps she should poke through the kitchen for something to eat as well, given that it was well past lunchtime.

She moved to the kitchen, looking through the cupboards and discovering biscuits that Hilda had made before she made her self a new pot of coffee as someone else came up the driveway of their home.

Zelda peered through the window, noticing the truck and felt a strange twist in her stomach. She didn’t know why, but seeing the Putnams here made her feel awkward like she was doing the wrong thing.

Eating the cookies, she made her way outside and watched as both Theo and Mr Putnam got out of the car.

Theo walked up, dressed like a much more petite version of his father and dug his hands into his pockets. There was still a cut healing on his cheek and lip, but he otherwise looked well, providing a bright smile on his face. “Ms Spellman,” he said.

She nodded. “How’s school?”

Theo shrugged in a similar way that Sabrina was starting to and Zelda felt her stomach clench, wondering if the bullying was getting worse. As she understood, they had a few more weeks left of their community service since the fight but had thankfully been split from the bullies.

“Sabrina mentioned your car got bogged on the forest road,” Theo said as his father came up behind him.

Looking to Joe Putnam, she raised her eyes briefly in greeting, giving a short nod, before returning to look at Theo. “I did. I tried to brave the old roads when the river flooded across the highway but ended up stuck.”

“As I recall, you used to brave those roads when you were young, too.”

Zelda laughed at the words, raising her eyes to look at Joe. That was certainly a flashback. “I did,” she agreed. “But not through a storm like last night’s, which is probably why it’s my first time being bogged on that road.”

“Do you know which road?”

“I do, I was coming up from the university and was planning to cut through the one that comes out just beyond the house, there,” she said, pointing to where there was an opening coming out onto the highway. Joe looked behind him, studying it before giving a nod. “I’ll take you if you like.”

“Can Sabrina come?” Theo asked. “We’ve never pulled out a bogged car.”

Zelda nodded, amused as she watched Theo run inside, likely to look for Sabrina upstairs, in her room.

It left her alone with Joe, allowing silence to slip between them until he grinned at her. “You look nice, Zelda.”

“Thank you, as do you,” she said, meaning it honestly. His clothes were ironed, his hair combed. He looked well, far better than in the early years of the loss of his wife. “How’s the business going?”

“As well as it can. Most of my money comes from wedding destinations these days, looking to rent out the land for their authentic view,” he sighed, digging his hands into his pockets. The town was struggling. It seemed that all the tourists had upped and left, and there were less and fewer people coming through.

Though the opposite couldn’t be said for Riverdale, which seemed to be having stranger and stranger murders, making them quite the tourist destination for a particular group of people.

Zelda turned on her heel, inviting Joe inside and pouring him a cup of coffee as Sabrina came down the stairs, dressed in her familiar red jacket and patent headband. Both she and Theo looked mischievous, and if Zelda were to place her thumb onto it, she would suspect that they were trying to set them up.

She wasn’t sure why all of a sudden they were trying to set the two of them together––and certainly she would have expected them both to be too old to do it––however there was little else that could explain their secret glances as they glance between her and Joe, holding back giggles.

After coffee, she grabbed her jacket and handbag, following Joe outside to his car and climbed inside. The interior was mud splattered on the floor, but she noticed that the seats had been cleaned, and there was otherwise nothing else to be concerned about.

She took her seat, buckling up the seatbelt and watched as Joe, Theo and Sabrina did the same before she began directing as to where her car was.

The truck bounced along the road far better than her sedan had, and Zelda noticed a great number of potholes and puddles that would have had her car bogged again, had she managed to get out of the second lot.

When they arrived, Zelda gave a brief look to her, confirming that its contents were still in place and then stepped aside to watch as Joe explained to Sabrina and Theo both what to do if they ever found themselves bogged.

He pulled out pieces of flat wood, setting them in front of the bogged tire, digging it underneath to allowing the car to drive out.

And then Zelda got into her car, turning the engine on before she slowly accelerated. The wheel did not move forward, due to not finding any traction. She paused, setting it back in park and climbed out.

“You did a good job,” he advised.

She nodded, arms folding as he dug through the mud, adjusting the plank of wood before directing her to try it again.

Zelda obeyed, getting back in the car, placing it into gear and trying to accelerate over the piece of wood slowly. Again, it didn’t work, and Mr Putnam sighed, before digging into the back of the truck. “Looks like we’re going to have to do this a bit more forcefully then.”

Pulling out chains, he tied them to the front of Zelda’s car, and then to the back of his own, before directing Zelda to put the car into neutral.

Zelda obeyed and watched as Theo and Sabrina stepped out of the way, seeming to share more than a few laughs.

If Zelda was honest with herself, there was a time where she may have considered dating Joe again. But their history was so far gone, that she doubted either one of them truly wanted to dig it up.

With ease, he pulled the car out, and Zelda felt a sigh of relief. Her car was no longer bogged. Now she just needed to be careful not to do it again as she drove along behind the Putnams.

Sabrina slid into the passenger beside her, buckling her seatbelt in place as she tossed a knowing smirk to her. “That was very helpful of Mr Putnam,” Sabrina advised. “And it was good that he became prepared.”

“Quite,” Zelda advised shortly, putting the car into the drive as she slowly drove behind them.

Sabrina fiddled with the radio before sitting back against the seat as a local station played. “You know, Jesse passed recently.”

“I am aware.”

“Mr Putnam has been quite lonely since losing Jesse.”

“Has he?” Zelda said. “Perhaps he should look at dating someone who has the time to share that emotional grief,” she turned and looked back at Sabrina with a steady look. “I don’t know why you’ve gotten into your head that he and I are a match, but I assure you, Sabrina, we are not.”

“You would be,” she insisted. “He’s a nice man, he works hard, and he likes his own company, so you two would be perfect for each other.”

“Sabrina, he and I are well acquainted. We used to know each other back when I first returned to Greendale.”

Sabrina didn’t seem surprised by this information, which made her all the more aware of Sabrina’s motives. Her dear niece likely thought herself a champion for them. Reuniting two long lost loves, but the truth was far from that.

“Why did you break-up?”

“We weren’t formally dating,” Zelda said, going over a bump. The radio cut out briefly and seemed to return, crackling as they drove around the winding path. “And we fell distant because he met someone else and I had no interest in pursuing anything serious.”

“Have you ever?”

“Pursued something seriously,” she paused, thinking back to her partners. Certainly, she’d had long term relationships. There’d been offers of marriages and her own acceptance before eventually, they ended up breaking up inevitably before the wedding for one reason or another. Once upon a time, she’d thought herself cursed.

The truth was, she knew she wasn’t someone pleasant to be around. She was cold and withdrawn, preferred her own company, placed her work over everything else and found things like romantic anniversaries enjoyable, but overall unimportant.

“No,” she said, “But things change.”

“Did you ever want your own children?”

“I have you and Ambrose.”

“But we’re not your children,” Sabrina advised. And although her niece did not intend to be unkind, the pain still struck her heart. She’d raised and provided for them both, soothed their fevers and kissed their scrapes and bruises. But Sabrina was right. She would never be their mother, no matter what she did.

“No,” she lied. “I didn’t want my own children.”

“But when Constance had us look after Leticia–“

“What is with the questions, Sabrina?” She snapped, hating the painful reminder of Leticia. “What on earth are you trying to get at it?”

“You’re not happy,” Sabrina said. “You’re not happy with me or Ambrose or Hilda, or the house. You don’t like your job. And for a while, it seemed like maybe you’d found someone, but you’re insistent that you haven’t, so…” Sabrina sighed, “I don’t know, I just want you to be happy.”

“Having someone in your life doesn’t necessarily make you happy,” Zelda advised. “Have you ever considered the fact that I’ve chosen a life outside of a partner because that’s what I want?”

“But Mr Putnam is nice, and he said––“

“He may say a many great amount of things, but it doesn’t mean I share the same sentiment. We parted a long time ago, long before you were born for reasons that have long since ceased to matter. I went to college and came back, and he was married, and I didn’t care, Sabrina. If I truly cared for him, that would have been something that would have mattered.”

Sabrina shifted in the seat, watching as they came out to the highway. “You’re both so lonely, so I thought…”

“I understand you’re intentions, but I will ask this only once of you. Do not interfere with my love life. I am happy to be where I am. I have a family, work-life. There’s little else I require.”

“What about friends?”

Zelda paused there, “I have colleagues I consider friends.”

“Constance?”

Zelda drew in a deep breath, feeling the pain wash over her. “Yes, Constance and I are friends.”

“Why don’t you want to talk about what happened? It was only six months ago.”

“Because I don’t know how I feel,” she answered honestly, turning to look at Sabrina briefly before returning her eyes to the road. “I don’t know how I should feel, except happy that Constance was able to move past that difficult part of her life.”

Sabrina went quiet and didn’t push any further, for which Zelda was relieved.

Pulling up in front of the Spellman house, she watched as the Putnam’s pulled up behind her––likely with Joe having gone through a similar insistence from his son to push them together.

As he climbed out of the truck with a tired look on his face, it softened as he looked at her. Zelda smiled despite herself before looking away. She had missed him in some ways, and seeing Theo and Sabrina grow to be best friends had felt right. A way for them to connect after losing touch for so long, though an awkwardness had always remained with them.

“Did you want to stay for dinner?” Sabrina asked Theo before turning and looking back at Zelda mischievously.

Zelda tried not to feel the frustration roll over her. Her niece intended well, she knew that, but it was nonetheless frustrating that she’d only just mentioned to her niece not to interfere and here she was, interfering because the two of them had shared eye contact.

“If we weren’t intruding,” Joe said.

“Of course not,” Zelda advised, “Theo and Sabrina can help Hilda.”

They headed inside, and she was thankful to see Joe remove his muddied boots at the door, leaving them aside. Theo and Sabrina followed doing the same, whereas Zelda shifted one pair of shoes for another, not wishing to walk through her house without appropriate shoes on.

She led them all to the dining room, directing Theo and Sabrina to wash-up before she made a pot of tea, setting aside some of Hilda’s biscuits.

She had seen Hilda’s car parked on their return and knew she was home. Likely, her sister would be coming down soon to set-up, and when she did, the children could help to prepare the meal with whatever she had planned.

Taking the tea to the parlour, she set it down, pouring herself and Joe a cup before she reclined to her seat. Mr Putnam took his tea politely, with a biscuit. And for a horrifying moment, Zelda wondered if he was going to try and dunk the biscuit into the tea before he seemed to change his mind just nibble on it.

“Did you make these?” he inquired.

“No, Hilda did.”

He seemed to smile to himself. “She could always bake,” he said. “Even when we were young, she used to bake with your grandmother.”

Zelda nodded. She didn’t remember Hilda baking much when she was younger, but she supposed she’d often been too busy either galavanting around with other local teenagers or sticking her nose in a book to notice. “Did you spend much time with Hilda?”

“When I used to wait for you, I did. You used to promise to meet me at your home and then you would turn up an hour later.”

Ah, that Zelda did recall. Joe had been a good man, even young. He’d been good and kind. And she had probably used that for her own gain more than once, flattered by his interest in her. She’d never intended to hurt him, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t selfish.

“Theo and Sabrina have been less than obvious,” he advised, breaking the silence.

“I’ve noticed,” she agreed. “Sabrina especially seems quite insistent.” Setting her cup of tea down, she smoothed the creases in her dress. “I don’t want to mislead you. I’m not interested in a relationship.”

“I know. You never were.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

He paused, coughing awkwardly as he set the cup down on its saucer and set it on the coffee table before him. “Just that you were always independent. You preferred your own company—it’s not a critique, it’s just you. You’re…” cold, she could see he was trying to avoid the word, but she’d had too many partners throw it at her. “Unbound by that desire,” he ended on.

Zelda felt a laugh rise in her throat. If only you knew. “I suppose,” she answered. There was a pang of discomfort, raw wounds she long since thought healed seemed to feel like a new skin, not unlike the very welts she could feel recovering.

And with that, her thoughts returned to Lilith.

Zelda looked away, feeling a flush creep up her throat. The last thing that she wanted was for Joe to notice her arousal flooding across her. It’d been over two decades since they were together, but her skin hardly hid the flush.

She closed her eyes, trying to move her thoughts away to something else, imaging something of more substance before she opened her eyes to find Mr Putnam staring into his cup of tea. “And what of you?” she inquired. “I haven’t noticed you dating anyone since the loss of your wife.”

He looked tired, truly tired, and for the first time, Zelda was reminded of their age. She remembered Theo’s mother. Angelina had been an out of towner. A lovely, round-faced woman who had always looked like she was on the verge of bursting into laughter.

And how Joe had looked at her like she was the whole world.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Too old for the theatrics of it all, and I know most of the town's occupants.”

She nodded, that was certainly true enough. “It’s difficult,” she agreed. “And it’s not easy to meet anyone when you stay on the farm.”

“No,” he agreed. “And Jesse was ill for so long…” he said before tiredly reclining, a look of grief crossing over his face.

A part of Zelda wanted to reach out and assure that it was okay, but they weren’t old friends. They were barely acquaintances now. Their children were friends.

“Do you remember when Jesse would chase after us when we were to the river?”

“He could never take a hint,” he said. “Always wanted to involve himself.”

“He taught me to fish better than you did.”

At that, he smiled, and Zelda felt a hum of something old and nostalgic, remembering as she pulled the fish from the line and both men had jumped around her, utterly surprised in her ability to unhook and then gut the fish.

“You give him too much credit. You were always better at those things than any of the boys. You had them lining up.”

Zelda smiled wistfully, remembering the time. Both in school and out of school, she’d occasionally date a man or woman who would look her over and make certain presumptions about her. It was always fun to pretend she had no idea how to do anything like survive in the wilderness, and then to show them that not only could she hunt, but she was a better shot than anyone with a gun.

Not that she’d needed use of one in a long time.

“I wanted to speak to you about a few weeks back,” he said, “Sabrina’s been standing up for Theo since he’s come back. Done lots of research and shared it around between not just his friends, but teachers and even family. It means a lot to see that she loves him so much.”

Zelda smiled, “She has a good heart,” she agreed. “Kinder than I ever did.”

“You have your own kindness. It might not be formative actions, but you never let anyone hurt Hilda. Remember when Blossom once tried––“

“Push her in the river?” She laughed. “Oh yes, I quite remembering enacting that particular revenge.” She hummed at the memory. It’d been a long time ago, but the redheaded bitch had it coming. “Helped that she was from Riverdale’s side too.”

“She was jealous of you. You had her boyfriend wrapped around your finger.”

“As if that was difficult,” she scoffed. “He…” and then she trailed off, remembering other things. “Well, I suppose he just wanted someone who wasn’t going to kick him when he was down.”

Putnam nodded, softly to himself before he looked away, tracing the cup before taking a sip. “Are you happy, Zelda?”

“Happy?” she scoffed. “Of course, I am. I have everything I want.”

He nodded. “I’m glad,” he said.

There was something there, and if she pressed at it, she might find out what he was digging at. But she couldn’t tell if it was for himself or her, and if it was for her, she didn’t want him getting any closer to it.

Setting her tea down, she made the excuse of checking on Hilda and toed around to the kitchen, through to the greenhouse where she could Hide softly speaking to Theo and Sabrina both.

“What are you up to?” she inquired, looking them both over suspiciously.

Theo turned on his heel, looking oddly suspicious, but Sabrina and Hilda both took no notice of it. “Just looking over the garden,” Hilda advised. “Little Theo’s got a science project coming up, and I was just suggesting––“

“That perhaps it was time to start dinner?” Zelda interrupted. “I’m sure whatever you’re up to can wait until after then?”

Sabrina’s mouth pressed into a line, but she had the decency to hold it back.

“Of course, love,” Hilda advised. “I was going to make a shepherd’s pie if that’s alright with you?”

“Sounds perfectly fine,” she advised. Though in truth, she would prefer something of more speed to cook.

As it was, she managed to be saved by Ambrose coming down and joining in the conversation with her and Hoe, having suddenly taken an interest in agriculture, he enquired at to Joe’s work, freeing Zelda’s mind from polite conversation.

If she was perfectly honest with herself, the exhaustion of last night weighed heavily on her, and the tea seemed to be doing little to keep her awake. Even when they were summoned for dinner, she poured alcohol for the adults, pointedly refusing Sabrina a glass of wine (though usually, she didn’t mind her occasionally having half a glass on the weekend with an appropriate meal, but given that Hoe was unlikely to approve the same for Theo, it wasn’t fair to place him an awkward situation).

The conversation drifted across the table, with Hilda and Ambrose both discussing classes with Theo, which was all fine and well until Zelda’s ears pricked at the mention of, “––Principle Wardwell.”

Zelda looked to Theo; her eyes hovering over the boy as she tried to trace back what the conversation had been regarding. School, no doubt, but it what context?

“She’s been putting a firm foot down towards bullying, reminding them of Baxter High’s zero tolerance,” Sabrina said in response, giving enough to provide context, “but I don’t know if it was fair about the community service. They’re bullies, big bullies, and she gave them all the same service as us when they started it.”

Sabrina’s expression turned hot.

“Principle Wardwell did?” Zelda inquired.

“Yeah. And it wasn’t like there was any point. She had them working some service for the aged cared centre, whereas we worked with the grade school. I doubt they learned anything from it.”

“It’s funny,” Joe advised. “Because when the other parents and I were speaking to her, she had negotiated them down to a week’s suspension for everyone. And then you came into the room.”

Zelda took her glass of wine in grip, taking a sip. “Quite,” she advised. “It was hardly fair that Sabrina was punished for that.”

“Well she still punished us equally,” Sabrina advised.

Zelda felt the flush warm her face, “Not true,” she advised hoarsely before clearing her voice. “As it was, I couldn’t allow a suspension on your record. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t remain on theirs, but I did my best.”

Joe gave her a strange look across the table. “So you negotiated her down?”

Zelda nodded. “I made it clear that while fighting should not be tolerated. There was some merit to what occurred. Though I understand that one of the boys was hospitalised?”

“He broke his leg,” Sabrina advised, “and that wasn’t our fault. We got into a fight, but when we did, one of his friends accidentally knocked him back down the stairs. It’s…how the fight stopped” she admitted. “We didn’t keep fighting.”

Zelda nodded, knowing already that had it been otherwise, Lilith would have advised her. “Anyway, the matter’s solved. Your service is nearly completed.”

Sabrina shrugged, as if unsatisfied by this, but didn’t say anything else to the matter. She looked at Theo with a strange look as she sipped her water. Again, Zelda found herself suspicious of the shared looks, wondering if there was a deeper meaning to it, but placed it aside. She couldn’t go around, convinced that Sabrina was up to no good because of secretive looks with friends.

There was plenty of other reasons to be suspicious.

“Well, Wardwell certainly has the PTA under wraps. Completely cut them down when they tried to raise some complaints about inappropriate outfits been worn to school,” Hilda advised, chuckling to herself. “Started enquiring if she should start measuring the same thing on the boys too, and wasn’t that an uproar.”

Zelda’s brows rose. Lilith seemed determined to make enemies everywhere it seemed, attacking the PTA and teachers in defence of the children. It would certainly make her look like a tyrant to them, and likely have their attention zero in on her, if she wasn’t careful.

She refrained from commenting as such, not wishing to ruin dinner as Theo began excitedly recounting Wardwell-telling-off-Craven story that Sabrina had previously advised.

Again, Zelda was reminded that the woman seemed unfazed by the enemies she was creating. She was still only a rather recent Principle, and Zelda doubted that her position was so written in stone that if a select group of teachers and parents complained, she would come out of it unscathed. The best scenario would be that she was requested to leave her post. Worst would be a parent or teacher digging into her personal life to find dirt on her.

And it wasn’t that difficult, given that she was actively moonlighting as a Dominatrix.

Zelda shifted on the seat, reminded (rather painfully) that if that were to occur, she would be caught in the middle as well.

Perhaps she should…

Who was she kidding, she wasn’t going to stop. She already longed to see her again. At the moment, it was one of the few things in her life that she enjoyed privately.

She looked across the table, sipping her wine to see Joe looking at her curiously before his eyes darted away.

Drawing her attention back to the conversation, Zelda tried to quell the anxiety in her stomach. Even after eating dinner, she was still feeling unwell. Perhaps she needed an early night.

#lilith #zelda spellman #zelith #madam spellman #caos fanfic

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1180

The last time you washed your hair, did you use conditioner? Yeah, I’m pretty paranoid and always feel the need to use conditioner because of a bad rebonding job from like a decade ago that stiffened up my hair as soon as it would get wet. It lasted for around a year, so I formed the habit of always using conditioner every time I shower. I don’t think I’ve ever used just shampoo since then.

Do you prefer light or dark jeans? Dark, but I suppose it would be nice to start experimenting with lighter shades as well.

When you listen to music, do you generally sing along, or just listen? It depends if I know the lyrics or I’m feeling the song at the moment. Obviously with my new obsession with BTS I can’t really sing along to entire songs, but I do sing the few English lyrics they have per song, hahaha.

Do you have any of your exes as friends on Facebook? Yeah but she’s been muted for like half a year already, as is the rest of her family. I do have plans to unfriend her entirely; I’m just not sure when I would push through with it, and I already gave Angela permission to log onto my account one of these days to be the one to do the unfriending.

Who was your first love? Do you ever miss that person? Gabie. I miss the friendship sometimes; I don’t think I’ll have a friendship as deep and connected as the one we had, so I will always feel sorry about how that went to waste. But I don’t really think about our relationship anymore as I’m pretty good at blocking off certain memories, so I don’t miss her in that sense.

How many cars are parked at your house right now? Two.

Do you have any Italian ancestry? I highly doubt so. If anything there’s probably a tiny drop Spanish blood in there but that’s the most European I’ll ever get.

Do you prefer water to be ice cold or at room temperature? Like, drinking water? Ice cold, always. I hate warm water.

Has anyone ever told you you’re a control freak? Not to my face, but I know I’m one so I’m sure other people have said that about me at least behind my back.

Do you know anyone who has gone missing? If so, were they ever found? Yes, my friend Mik and one of my aunts. They were both found eventually.

What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? Eating ghost pepper instant noodles was a pain I would never want to go through again...I threw that shit out after my first forkful, lmao.

Do you need to talk to someone? No, not in particular. In a more general sense I do wanna start gaining more friends though, so I’ve been meaning to expand my circle by creating a new Twitter account just for my BTS dump. In other words, I am a 23 year old with a stan Twitter HAHAHAHA

Is something confusing you at the moment? No, I’m good.

When was the last time you had a real deep chat? Maybe my conversation with Andi a couple of nights back. We were talking about a tricky situation with their ex-friend who turned out to be a real dick when they came out to him a year ago, and they just wanted to get my perspective on how I would handle it.

Who did you last see on webcam? The PR manager for one of our clients, who we all despise because he doesn’t know how to do his job. Thankfully he’s resigning soon so we’re all just waiting for him to leave and finally meet a much more competent replacement.

What’s your best friend’s pet’s name(s)? Angela has two dogs, Hailey and Kennedy. Andi had Apollo, who I wanted to meet so badly but sadly he passed away a week ago at 15.

Have you ever taken a picture while laying in the grass? There are photos of me sitting on grass, but not lying in it. I would imagine that would feel very prickly and uncomfortable.

Who’s your favorite Disney character? Baymax or Flynn Rider.

Have you ever deliberately tried to get someone drunk? I’ve made my friends chug drinks or down shots and it’s happened vice versa, but it was always in good fun and we never made each other harassed from it. It’s just your typical college rambunctiousness, and if anyone felt uncomfortable or iffy then we didn’t hesitate to move on.

When was the last time you used a pay phone and who were you calling? I’ve only ever seen those in my first school, when I was in kindergarten. I never got to use it and they also took them out not long after.

Do you like being kissed on the neck? Yessssssssss

Have you ever had sex with someone you weren’t dating (but had feelings for) in the hopes that they would ask you out later? Nope. I don’t think I would have sex with anyone I wasn’t dating.

What’s the most you would be willing to spend on a good bra? Probably a couple thousand bucks if I thought I looked good in it.

Do you have any of your teachers’ personal cell phone numbers saved in your contacts list? I don’t think so. I never tried getting close with any of them, and I always tried to stay hidden as much as possible. I was just in class to get good grades and pass.

Do you ever stalk peoples’ personal blogs, even if you don’t know them very well? I never really scroll through people’s Tumblrs anymore. That was more of a thing I did in like 2013, but these days going through my dashboard is enough.

What’s one thing about today’s generation that you just can’t stand? Some social media trends done for clout make me revolted, especially when it has anything to do with wasting food. I also hate when they do extreme pranks that I know I wouldn’t find funny if I were ever the victim, like tossing someone’s phone into the ocean.

Be honest: how do you feel about abortion? Pro-choice.

Is there anyone you currently want to reach out to? I would love to catch up with Katreen at some point, but I know we’re at different points in our lives now and it would probably never happen.

What is your favorite piece of art you own? I commissioned my sister to make an artwork of the 2D1N cast, and she did a great job making it! I haven’t gotten to use it or promote it yet, but I will soon. It’s really well-done.

What’s the one thing you apologized for this month? Replying late.

My favorite color is ______? Pastel pink.

I wish I had _____? Longer weekends.

What did you buy today? Nothing – I’d call that a success lmao, I’ve been spending money as if I had a million fucking bucks over the last week. I did have some packages arrive today though: my own copy of 2 Cool 4 Skool (my first physical BTS album!!!!!!); the official poster from their album BE; the Ivy Park sneakers I ordered earlier this month, and an Ivy Park bucket hat Bea had apparently gotten for me as a birthday present.

What has challenged your morals? Vices.

What made you pick up the last book you started reading? I had to read it in preparation for a one-on-one session with my employer’s CEO.

What about your life concerns you the most? Whether a stable future is in the cards for me.

What do you find particularly offensive? Would you say you’re easy or difficult to offend? Probably Filipino-American comedians or influencers who use stereotyping of Filipino accents and habits as a punchline; they do more harm to the culture than good. I can tell you not one Filipino who lives in the Philippines actually finds those funny, and Bretman Rock is probably the only personality who’s able to flaunt the culture in an entertaining and hilarious yet classy way.

When it comes to being offended, I guess it depends on the context. My humor can get pretty dark and low-blowy, but I would have a problem with someone who I know has genuinely problematic views.

What was the last series you finished watching? Do you have any plans to begin another? I think it may had still been Start-Up from last December. I’m not too big on Korean dramas since I find one episode waaaaaaayyyyyyy too long. I don’t think I’ll be starting on anything soon, Korean or otherwise.

What is one way in which you are different from a year ago? What is one way in which you are still the same? I’m single now, for the first time in technically six years. I also think I’m doing better and happier, breakup notwithstanding. OH and I love wasabi now, hahah. As for what’s unchanged, I still like taking surveys and I’m still stuck at home, though the latter’s not really in my control anymore.

If you could learn about anything without the stress of grades or cost, what kind of classes would you take? I’d just go back to UP for the free tuition. We also have the widest range of programs out of any university in the country, so it’s a damn good deal.

Name a song you’ve listened to today? Fly To My Room - BTS

When you were younger, did you have a swing set or a playhouse in your backyard? We didn’t; but one of our relatives that we’d regularly visit did have a playground that I’d use all the time. It’s still there, just very unmaintained since no one uses it anymore.

Is your mall nice? Which one? We have five different malls nearby lol. Mall culture here is on another level.

Do you have a Sonic near you? If so, what’s your favorite drink from there? No. I’m not so sure what they serve there, either. I’m guessing milkshakes?

Will you be voting in the presidential elections next time around? I’ll always exercise my right to vote.

How do you feel about chocolate-covered strawberries? I hate strawberries and I hate fruits, so even if you coat that shit in Nutella and cookie butter and chocolate syrup I still wouldn’t touch it.

Did you ever stop having feelings for someone and then started having those feelings again for them? No.

Do you hate the last guy you had a thing with? I’ve never had a thing with guys.

To whom did you last give the finger? I haven’t had to do that in a while.

What was the last musical instrument played in your presence? My sister’s keyboard.

Do you like sprinkles on your ice cream? Not particularly. They make things look cute, but they never taste like anything tbh so I never saw the point in paying extra just to have them on my desserts.

Honestly, have you ever crashed a party before? Nah. I cringe thinking about that.

Do you know how to do the moon walk? I don’t.

Has anybody ever told you that you have a good singing voice? Never gotten that specific compliment before because I know I don’t have one.

Onion rings or french fries? Onion rings.

Has anybody ever described you as a heart breaker? No.

Has anybody ever told you that you talk too fast? I don’t think so, but I know I have the tendency to do so occasionally, especially while I’m presenting a deck. Once I notice it I make an effort to pace myself.

Who is the best cook that you know? My dad and both my grandmas all deserve that title.

Which meal throughout the day do you skip the most? I literally never have lunch ever.

What’s the largest amount that you can juggle at one time? I can’t juggle.

What was your favorite thing to go on at the playground as a kid? Sandboxes, since I liked the texture; the sandboxes in school were also often empty, which worked well for my introvert self. I find that it’s carried over to today, since I still enjoy touching things like slime and kinetic sand.

Do you know how much you weighed at birth? How much? I think 5 or 6 lbs, I’m not exactly sure but it’s definitely somewhere in that small range.

Which aspect of your daily routine takes the most time? What do you do? Work, for sure. I work a normal 9–6 so that’s already 8 hours out of my day, but I also OT a lot after hours, and I work throughout my lunch break as well so that technically makes it 9 hours. I also like getting up earlier and starting some work before my shift so that I would have less tasks on my plate for the day.

Do you enjoy buying gifts for others, or could you do without this? I LOVE getting people gifts. Food is especially my love language, and I always get food delivery for my friends, family, and my team at work.

What is one thing you are expected to do, if anything? I mean, I have work deadlines tomorrow so there’s that.

How do you tend to view driving? Monotonous or entertaining? I love driving. I don’t think I ever complained about having to do it. It’s calming and relaxing when I’m doing it alone or with a partner; and it can be entertaining with the right set of people.

Do you enjoy talking about music with others? Not always. If I don’t listen to the artist then I can find the conversation quite boring, like if my friends would get into a full-blown discussion about Taylor Swift.

Is acting something you enjoy? No. It wouldn’t even be something I’d be interested in doing.

When do you feel most accomplished? Finishing a work day with no tasks left behind.

Do you think Manwich is amazing or completely gross? Idk what that is.

How many best friends do you have? Two.

Are you a smoker, drinker, pothead or none of the above? I drink sometimes. I also kinda smoke, I guess.

If you have your ears pierced, when did you get them pierced? My mom had them pierced when I was a month old.

Do you own any exercise machines? My mom has this rowing equipment thingy. I don’t have any of my own, though.

On Facebook, do you have people listed as your siblings who aren’t really your siblings? No.

Have you ever drawn or painted a self-portrait? I remember having to draw one as a school assignment, but I’m pretty sure I half-assed that because I couldn’t care less for art class back then.

Who was your last voicemail from? We don’t have voicemails.

Have you ever been falsely accused of something serious? I don’t think so. That’s the sort of situation that would stick out in my memory if ever.

Did you ever set up a lemonade stand when you were a kid? No, not a thing here.

When was the last time you spoke to someone in a different language? Around an hour ago when I went downstairs and chatted with my sister briefly.

Have you ever received an anonymous gift? Nope.

Have you ever camped out somewhere for an event the next day? Nope but I definitely still wouldn’t be opposed to doing that haha.

When were you the saddest in your life? 2016 was fucking miserable. < I’d have to agree. 2017 was also awful.

Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you? I used to know one but she got out of it. In a sense, I suppose I also was in one.

If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? Well they’re younger, so they definitely still live here, with our parents. I’m the first one expected to move out, but I’m taking my time.

Have you ever gotten searched by the cops? No.

Do you like fried rice? Of course. I like any kind of rice.

What was the last thing you drank? Water.

#survey #surveys

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quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Motorcycle Fairy Part 3 (end)

Part 1 | Part 2

Also available on AO3

His mother had taught him to throw caution to the winds, to take a chance and seize the moment, to care for no one’s opinion and to chase his own happiness.

She hadn’t, however, given him much of an education in the art of the cover story.

Luka pulled up to the campground without a single clue as to what he was going to say if—hopefully when—he ran into Marinette. He hadn’t exactly rushed to get there. He wasn’t a morning person in general and he’d decided to take the scenic route, hoping the familiar ride would help ground him. He’s come to see races here enough times that no one at home even questioned him about his impromptu road trip, which was a blessing. Juleka would never have let him hear the end of it.

The extra time hadn’t helped him, though, because when Luka pulled up to the parking lot next to the campsite and paid for a day pass, he still had no idea how he was going to explain showing up here in a way that wouldn’t sound obsessive or stalkerish or like he was totally smitten and absolutely not willing to trust fate to bring them together a third time. It was true that he loved motorcycle racing and he always enjoyed the energy at Le Mans, but...he really wanted to see Marinette again.

Luka took off his riding gear and stowed it, dusting off his ripped black jeans and deciding he wouldn’t need his leather jacket. He nervously tugged down the hem of his navy blue t-shirt and then looked around, knees feeling rather weak and butterflies in his stomach as he tried to figure out his next move. Ugh, he was a wreck. Just chill, he told himself, getting out his guitar and sitting back on his bike to tune it, just to calm his nerves. Just enjoy the day and whatever happens, happens. Gina’s in the races, so probably Marinette will be in the stands somewhere so I’ll need to walk over there...

He breathed, and focused for a moment on his pick slipping slowly down the strings, each one now perfectly in tune, and just as the last note faded he heard a familiar laugh. Luka looked up, his heart suddenly in his throat. Apparently fate wasn’t too mad at him for his lack of confidence because there she was.

And...wow, she looked so good. She’d taken his advice and improved on it. Her skinny jeans had leather panels with pink piping running up the sides. A low-slung chain belt hung from her hips and her hair was back in what probably started as a sleek french braid. The slight ruffling and flyaway hairs just softened the otherwise devastating line from her jaw down her bare neck to her shoulders. She’d ditched her jacket somewhere along the way; she wore only a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Luka swallowed as the guy she was with leaned in, but Marinette just smiled and put her hand on his chest, pushing him back, and apparently saying goodbye as she walked away from him.

Luka forgot about the other guy when she turned and he saw that the collar was cut too, into a modest V over her chest, not deep enough to actually show anything but more than enough to expose her collarbones and a very appealing expanse of skin. Her sweet face was the same but she looked so much more mature than he’d ever seen her and very, very hot.

Marinette seemed oblivious to the heads she was turning as she strolled, hips naturally swaying on the uneven ground. Her eyes were on a book in the crook of her arm and she had a look of concentration on her face as she tapped a pencil thoughtfully to her lips.

No more time for thinking. Time for action. Luka took a breath, shifting so that he leaned as casually as possible against the seat of his bike, and played the song he’d been playing when she’d surprised him at the shop.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her head whip around towards him, and it was work to keep his smile from giving him away. His heart leapt in his chest as she turned and made her way towards him and shit, he still didn’t know what he was going to say, but screw it, he was good at winging it, right?

“Luka,” she called cheerfully, waving. “Wow, I didn’t think I’d see you here!”

Luka could feel the eyes on him as he lifted his head and smiled at her. “Hey, Marinette. I was hoping I’d catch you sometime today. Yeah, my plans got cancelled and I didn’t have anything else to do, so I thought...why not a road trip?” He shrugged, and grinned, looking her up and down with considerably less intensity than he had when she wasn’t watching. “You look good.”

“Good?” she pouted, as he rather thought she would.

“Better than good,” he winked. “Way better. But I don’t think you need me to tell you that,” he added, leaning back slightly to look pointedly at a group of young men behind her. Marinette turned to follow his gaze and blushed deeply when all but one of the group suddenly became very interested in looking elsewhere. The bold one gave her a slow up and down look and a wink.

Marinette put her nose in the air and turned back to Luka, still red-faced. “Maybe,” she said, shrugging one shoulder and damn, her arms were really toned, he suddenly realized. He hadn’t noticed before because her build was so slender but now that he was looking, the girl had some guns. “But I’d still rather hear it from you.”

That put a grin on his face that he couldn’t have kept back if he tried. “Where’s your grandma?” he asked, glancing around. “You’re not by yourself are you?”

“Oh, she’s over at the track buttering up the pit crew,” Marinette said brightly. “I got kind of bored; the tech talk doesn’t interest me the way it probably would you, but I remembered what you said about the bikes over here so I thought I’d take a walk and come look around. I didn’t think I’d find you, though.”

“Well, I hope it’s a good surprise,” Luka said, looking down at his guitar and plucking a string idly just out of nerves. “I was kind of hoping to run into you. I’d love to hang out with you if you’d like to, but if you’d rather not, that’s cool too. I’m not trying to crash your day if you’d rather do your own thing.”

Marinette’s cheeks pinked and she seemed to have a little trouble meeting his gaze for a moment. “Well, if you didn’t have any other plans, then...yeah, I’d love some company. Your company,” she added hastily, and then blushed redder, looking away.

“I’d love to give it to you,” he grinned. “What were your plans?”

“Nothing specific,” Marinette shrugged, and his eyes went to the line of her shoulders again. “I was just doing some sketching and then I thought I’d wander back over a little bit before the race started.

“Oh, awesome, can I see?” Luka asked, and she looked up, eyes brightening.

“You want to?”

“Yeah, your stuff is amazing.” Luka slid over, making what little room he could for her to come lean next to him. “I’d love to see if that’s okay.”

Marinette smiled shyly. “Okay. Just, keep in mind I’m not that experienced at drawing cars and things.”

Luka spared a glance back at the other group of guys as Marinette came and leaned one hip on the bike seat, leaning over to show him her book. He couldn’t resist a smirk when he locked eyes with the one guy, who now looked rather sour.

They chatted about her sketches, Luka identifying the bikes for her to her delight, and he played a little music for her, and then her phone alarm rang out.

“Oh, it’s almost time for Grandma’s race,” she said, pulling the phone out of the back pocket of her jeans (God he really wanted to be that phone all of a sudden) to silence it. “I have to get back to the track.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Luka said, straightening up and failing to not watch her slip the phone back in her pocket. “Just let me lock up.”

She exclaimed over the custom case he had mounted to the side of his bike as he put his guitar back in it and locked it shut.

“It cost me a ridiculous amount of money,” Luka admitted, “But it’s a must. I don’t go anywhere without at least one guitar.”

That started another conversation as they began the walk to the racetrack, and he told her about how he’d grown up playing music and what he liked about his different guitar, and she talked about the types of music she liked, and he got to ask her more about working with Jagged and found she’d been a fan even before he was a client.

Marinette ignored the whistles and catcalls as they walked, so Luka did too, though he walked a little closer to her and tried to stay between her and the worst offenders when the crowd got close. One man put a hand on her, but Marinette brought her boot solidly down on his instep without missing a step and kept walking, grabbing Luka’s arm to keep him from turning and giving the guy a piece of his mind. She kept her hand curled around his bicep for the rest of the walk, and Luka wasn’t sure whether it was for his comfort or hers. He wasn’t about to complain though. (He would, however, go to his grave before he’d admit maybe flexing a little bit under her hand.)

They got to the stands and Marinette had a spot right at the rail waiting for her, and Luka was able to put himself between her and the rest of the crowd.

The races were the best kind—friendly but absolutely cutthroat—and not only was Marinette sweet, pretty, talented, and smart, she was fun and Luka was having the time of his life. The nervous babbling was cute and all but listening to her trash talk the competition was hilarious. Once he had to grab her around the waist because she heard someone insult her grandmother and he was afraid she was about to leap the rail and run onto the track to give them a piece of her mind. Her elbow whipped back into his gut mercilessly and she spent the next five minutes in horrified apologies while he tried to convince his lungs to inhale again.

“You weren’t kidding about being able to take care of yourself,” he said when he felt less like he was moments away from death.

“I am so, so sorry,” Marinette said for the fiftieth time, clutching his arm. “I’m so sorry, it was just a reflex—”

“Stop apologizing,” Luka sighed, rubbing his abdomen. “It was my fault, I had no right to grab onto you like that and you have every right to react that way if someone touches you in a way you don’t like.”

“But I wouldn’t have minded if I had realized, I just—I got caught up in the moment and I forgot you were with me.”

“Aw, that hurts, Marinette,” Luka said with affected sadness. “Way more than the hit.”

“No, no, that’s not what I—here they come!” She shoved him aside and pushed against the rail, screaming and jumping up and down.

Gina’s bright red bike was easy to spot, trapped behind two others that clearly had some kind of agreement to block her. Luka’s mouth fell open and he cheered just as loud as Marinette when Gina, apparently cool as a cucumber, nipped neatly through a space no one would have thought she could fit through and took the lead. They zipped around the curve and back out of sight again.

“Your grandma’s a badass, Marinette,” Luka grinned. “Wow.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Guess it runs in the family.”

Marinette giggled. “Wait until you meet my mom.” Luka looked at her in surprise and her eyes got round as she stared back at him, and her mouth did too, and then she was sputtering. “I didn’t mean—not that you would want to—not like if we were—“

Luka had to laugh, he couldn’t help it. “I gotta warn you,” he said, “My standards are kind of high. My mom’s pretty badass herself.” He glanced up at the board as the racers whipped by again, Gina still in the lead. “Last lap.”

Marinette cheered and screamed as the racers came back into view, but the crowd was going wild and she was kind of tiny. Luka glanced around and made a quick decision.

“Come stand in front of me,” he told her, guiding her into place. “Keep your back to me. Put your hands in mine...no, like this.” He gave her quick instructions and she looked back over her shoulder at him in surprise. He grinned. “Trust me. On three.” She faced forward and Luka bent his legs. “One...two...three!”

Marinette jumped and put her weight on her arms in his hands as Luka straightened and pushed her up. She yelped in surprise at the height and the speed, but managed to get her feet on his shoulders.

Forgot about the boots, Luka thought ruefully, gripping her calves and pulling down to stabilize her.

Marinette wasted no time screaming “THAT’S MY NONNA!” at the top of her lungs and waving her hands wildly as Gina whipped across the finish line in front of them. She pulled off her helmet and turned to wave wildly at Marinette, a huge grin on her face!

Marinette cheered again and laughed, waving back with both hands, and Luka grinned. He squeezed Marinette’s calfs in warning, and then bent his legs and popped her up, catching her by the waist as she came down. She didn’t quite manage to come down straight and she stumbled as she landed, but Luka kept his grip on her waist until she was steady. Then she turned and hugged him. “Thanks Luka! That was amazing! I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Luka chuckled breathlessly and hugged her back. “Nah,” he said, and it was mostly true; the burn in his arms wasn’t her fault—though the lingering pain in his abs kinda was. “Been a while since I did that,” he said, letting her go and rolling his shoulders. “You followed my lead like a pro, though.”

Marinette tilted her head and quirked up one shoulder, smiling up at him. “Guess being a badass runs in your family too.” She brushed some dirt off the shoulder of his navy t-shirt and her gaze followed her fingers as they ghosted along the muscle of his arm before her hand dropped.

Luka grinned, suddenly feeling no pain. “Shall we go find Gina?” he suggested, and Marinette agreed brightly. She grabbed his hand, and Luka was so gone, so totally in love with this gorgeous contradiction of a girl that he wasn’t sure his feet actually touched the ground as they wormed through the crowd.

Marinette dropped his hand to throw her arms around Gina. Luka hung back, sticking his hands in his pockets, suddenly not particularly eager to meet the older woman’s sharp eyes.

“Well, well, my little fairy, have you found a friend?” she asked, and he wasn’t quite sure how to read the tone of her accented voice.

“You remember Luka, from the shop?” Marinette beamed back at him, her hand curling around his arm, and Luka couldn’t help returning it, though his cheeks heated slightly. His heart was beating so hard he felt breathless, but somehow he managed to get enough air in his lungs to speak.

“Nice to see you again, ma’am,” he said to Gina. “That was an amazing race. You really earned that win.”

“Oh, he’s a charmer, this one,” Gina laughed, though she shook the hand he offered. “Well, I can hardly complain about such sincere flattery. Thank you my dear, I am just a little proud of that one.” She put her hand on Marinette’s head. “Well, my fairy, I am positively famished. Let me pack up my gear and we’ll find a nice spot for that picnic your father packed.”

His heart dropped from his throat to his stomach, but he tried to keep up his smile. “I guess that’s my cue,” Luka said reluctantly to Marinette as Gina turned to put her things away. “I had a really great time hanging out with you, Marinette.”

Marinette’s face fell. “You’re leaving?”

“Well, it sounds like you have plans and I don’t want to intrude—” he began, hoping to at least get her number before he had to leave.

“Oh, no, please have lunch with us,” Marinette said eagerly. “Papa always makes twice as much food as we need for everything, I’m sure there will be plenty. I mean—if you didn’t have plans. I know you probably have lots you want to see so if you’d rather not—”

“No, I—I’d like to.” Luka reached up and ruffled the back of his hair nervously as he glanced at Gina. “But if this is your time with your grandma, I don’t want to intrude…”

“Nonsense, dear,” Gina said, straightening and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Marinetta is right, Tom will surely have packed more food than we need, and you are quite welcome to join us. Unless, as Marinette said, you had other plans?” There was something about her smile and the sly look she gave him that made his face heat.

“No, no plans,” he replied, barely managing not to squeak. He cleared his throat. “Um, if you ladies wouldn’t mind the walk back to the campground, there’s a picnic area over by the day parking.” He looked at Marinette. “Right where I parked, you remember? There were tables but I don’t recommend them, they’re pretty gross, but there’s a big grassy area that should have plenty of room and it’ll be quieter over there. Of course if you had something else in mind, that’s fine too, I’m flexible.”

“That sounds lovely, doesn’t it Marinetta?” Gina slung one arm around Marinette’s shoulders. “We will go have a nice picnic, and then come back and watch the afternoon races.” They stopped to drop off Gina’s bag and pick up their cooler, which Luka offered to carry, and the three of them made the walk to where Luka’s bike was parked. They were having lunch a little late, so they didn’t have any trouble finding a comfortable patch of grass to lay out a blanket.

“You were right,” Marinette smiled at him as she opened the cooler. “It’s much quieter over here.”

“Wow,” Luka said, staring as Marinette unpacked the food. “You weren’t kidding.”

“My Tom believes in expressing his love through food,” Gina said with amusement. “He gets that from his father. It does at least mean we have extra for new friends when we meet them.”

It was a very French meal, with several different kinds of bread and cheese, including brie and chevere that Marinette drizzled with honey, as well as fruit and other treats.

“Wow, this is great,” Luka commented. “This is all delicious.”

“My parents run a bakery,” Marinette told him. “Best macarons in Paris. Papa made all of this himself fresh this morning.”

“Wow,” Luka repeated. “Thanks for sharing it with me. Definitely a million times better than anything I could have scrounged up around here.”

Gina, as it turned out, was a lot of fun too. She really had travelled all over the world. Luka was no homebody himself and had been to a lot of places both with his family and alone, but Gina was on a whole other level. Her stories frequently had him in stitches, though Marinette’s rolled eyes when Gina wasn’t looking told him that their charm had long ago worn off on her.

She listened to his stories, however, with big eyes and eager ears, and asked Luka a lot of questions which he wasn’t at all opposed to answering.

“That’s so cool,” she sighed as he finished describing sea kayaking in the Northern Highlands of Scotland, where his mother’s family was from. “You both make me sound so boring.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Luka said, leaning back a little so he could look up at her. He was on his side, propped on one elbow with his long legs stretched out so that his boots were off the blanket. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, designer for rockstars, rubbing elbows with supermodels and newscasters, taking the fashion world by storm one design contest at a time?” She blushed under his soft look. “Compared to you I’m just a hippy slacker with a guitar.”

Marinette brightened and she looked back towards his bike. “Your guitar! Can you play for us? If you don’t mind...I mean it’s okay if you don’t want to—”

“I always want to,” Luka chuckled, sitting up and grabbing a napkin to make sure his hands were clean. “I’d never stop if I had my way.” He looked at Gina, who waved him on before he could even ask, and pushed himself up to retrieve his guitar. He also brought his leather jacket back and offered it to Marinette. Some clouds had rolled in, bringing a light breeze, and she had goosebumps on her arms. She smiled gratefully at him and slipped it on and he had to keep his face turned away to hide his grin.

It was pretty close to heaven, sitting in the warm grass, comfortably full, with his guitar in his lap, playing whatever came to him. Whenever he looked up there was Marinette, with her sweet face and pretty eyes, enveloped in his jacket as she quietly cleaned up the remains of their picnic. When she finished, she moved over next to him, and without meaning to he looked up at her just at that moment, and their eyes caught and held, and he suddenly forgot what he was playing.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Luka shook his head without looking away.

“It’s fine,” he said, hands already beginning to play a new melody, soft and warm like fresh bread and honey, but crisp on his steel strings like the fresh air. “I think I like this one better.”

They stared at each other a moment longer and both jumped when Gina cleared her throat. Luka ripped his gaze away from Marinette and swallowed hard, glancing guiltily at Gina.

Gina studied him for a moment, and then Luka’s heart nearly stopped when she smirked at him. “I’ll be back in a little while,” she said, getting to her feet, and waved Marinette down as she started to get up. “No, no, darling, you stay with your friend, you will be bored trailing behind me talking to people you don’t know about things you aren’t interested in. You look so comfortable, just relax. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Are you sure, Grandma?” Marinette frowned. “You know I don’t mind what we do together.”

“I’m sure, my fairy, I want you to have a good time too. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it. You won’t even miss me.” She winked over Marinette’s head at Luka.

“That’s strange,” Marinette fretted. “Usually when she’s in town she sticks to me like glue. I hope I didn’t do anything to upset her.”

Luka chuckled through his nose, setting his guitar carefully aside on the blanket. “I don’t think that’s it.”

“You don’t think so?” Marinette sighed, still looking towards where Gina had gone.

Luka took a deep breath and swallowed his nerves. Deceptively casually, he leaned back on his hands and nudged his shoulder against hers. “Well, I might be wrong, but I kinda think she’s figured out that I’m crazy into you and she’s doing me a solid by ditching us for a few minutes so I can ask you out.”

The sudden dump of adrenaline in his veins made the next few moments seem like they were in slow motion. God, she was beautiful, swallowed up in his jacket, her short braid flying as she whipped her head around to look at him, lips parting in surprise, cheeks rapidly turning pink, and her eyes—he could get lost in those eyes forever, and right now they were huge, the thick lashes dark against her pale skin.

Outwardly, he remained calm, but his heart was pounding, his fingers curling tight in the grass to keep his hands from visibly shaking, and his breathing was shallow.

“R-really?” Marinette whispered, and Luka dared to shift his weight and raise one hand to capture a strand of hair that kept whipping across her lips and tuck it behind her ear.

“Yeah,” he said,careful to meet her eyes. “Really, Marinette. The more I learn about you, the more I want to know. You’re amazing and I really, really like you.”

“I...I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

“Oh, well, there’s plenty of options,” Luka shrugged, trying to be casual. “‘I like you too, Luka.’ ‘Sorry, Luka, I don’t feel that way about you.’” He had to clear his throat to go on. “‘Wow, Luka, this is kind of unexpected, I think I need some time to process before I can really answer.’ ‘I’d rather just be friends, Luka.’ ‘Shut up and kiss me, Luka.’ Any of those, really.” He softened as he looked at her. “Whatever you want to say is fine, Marinette. I won’t get upset if it’s not the answer I’m hoping for. I just, I’ve never met anybody like you, and I’d hate myself if I didn’t take the shot.”

Marinette opened her mouth, and then closed it again, and bit her lip. “Well,” she said slowly, Luka hanging on every breath, though her dawning smile made his heart gallop even faster. “It’s definitely not the second one. The third one is c-close, maybe,” she looked down at her hands in her lap, where she was playing with her fingers nervously. “But...I think I’m going to go with the first one.”

“It’s a good one,” Luka said, voice shaky with sudden giddiness. He tried to steady as it went on. “My second favorite option, I’d say.”

Marinette gave him that blinding smile, like the sun bursting out from the clouds. “Shut up and kiss me, Luka.”

“Yes ma’am,” he breathed eagerly, leaning forward without hesitation to cup her cheek and turn her face so he could kiss her pretty lips. It was only supposed to be gentle and tender and befitting a first kiss, but Marinette grabbed his shirt and kissed him back, harder and deeper, and he was sure his soul departed his body in the moan that he let out. His senses were overwhelmed; the smell of leather and grass, the lingering taste of honey, the roar of the engines in the distance, her fingers brushing over his jaw and down his neck, and the warm, electric feel of her mouth moving against his as they kissed and kissed again.

He felt downright drunk when she finally let him go. “I’ve maybe wanted to do that for a while,” she said with a mischievous, if slightly embarrassed, smile. The admission and the sight of her reddened lips did absolutely nothing to help his composure. Marinette’s brow creased as she looked at his dazed expression. “Luka?”

Luka lifted one finger and laid back dizzily onto the grass, staring up into the sky as a completely idiotic grin spread over his face.

Marinette’s face appeared over him, framed by the collar of his jacket as her shoulders hunched up, and the grin only got wider. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Nope,” he sighed. “I must be dead, because I just kissed an angel.”

Marinette’s face washed over with color, sweeping the worried look from her face. “I don’t think angels wear leather,” she giggled. Something else seemed to occur to her and her eyes twinkled down at him. “But maybe fairies do.”

Luka chuckled. “When bards fall in love with Scottish fairies it never ends well.”

Marinette’s mischievous smile sent a thrill through his entire body. “It’s a good thing I’m French then, isn’t it.”

“I’m enchanted, that’s for sure.” Luka gazed up at her. “You’re so beautiful, Marinette.”

Why that particular compliment startled her so, he couldn’t say, but her face disappeared from his view as she shot upright, turning red.

“What?” Luka asked, chuckling, as he rolled up onto his elbow.

“You can’t just say things like that!”

“Why not?” he laughed. “I’ve been thinking it since we met.” He reached over and slipped his hand over Marinette’s, brushing her fingers lightly with his until she let him lift it and tangle their fingers together.

“I’ve always thought you were pretty,” he told her, in a conspiratorial whisper that had her unconsciously leaning towards him. “But I have to say you look really good in leather. Especially my leather.”

Marinette made an inarticulate noise in her throat, looking at him wide-eyed and blushing so hard it was a wonder she hadn’t passed out. Luka grinned. “And you’re so talented,” he told her. “You’d think I was a stalker if you knew how much time I spent looking through your Instagram feed.” She made another squeak and he could actually see her pulse fluttering in her neck. “And sweet,” he added, inching a little closer. “At least half those things you made were for other people.”

She was totally speechless now, so overwhelmed Luka put his fingers on her cheek and murmured “Breathe, Marinette.”

Marinette drew in a great gulp of air. “How can you say all those things,” she huffed as Luka straightened up and faced her more fully.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Luka grinned, fingers sliding around to the back of her neck, eyes fixed on her lips. “I’m crazy into you.” Marinette smiled and Luka leaned forward.

Suddenly something stiff whacked the top of his head. Luka ducked away and lifted a hand to shield himself.

“None of that now,” Gina declared. “At least not until you’ve taken my Marinetta on a proper date.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Luka said, sitting up straight quickly. “I absolutely will do that.”

“Grandma!” Marinette scowled, snatching the rolled-up motorcycle magazine out of Gina’s hand. “I can kiss him if I want to!” To prove the point, she tossed the magazine aside, grabbed Luka’s face, pulled it to her own, and kissed him firmly. He couldn’t have stopped himself from melting into her if his life depended on it, one hand coming up to grip her shoulder automatically.

Standing over them, Gina made an amused noise and folded her arms.

Marinette looked a little bit embarrassed when she released him, but her smile returned at the dazed look he gave her. “Will you, um,” he cleared his throat. “Will you go out with me? I don’t work on Wednesdays, we could do dinner and a movie?”

Marinette giggled. “I’d love to.”

Luka looked up at Gina, who shrugged, clearly finding the whole thing funny. “Good enough, I suppose. But you will treat my fairy right, or you will deal with Nonna Gina.”

“Don’t worry,” Luka said breathlessly, a smile spreading over his face as he gazed at Marinette. “No way am I ever going to want to break this spell.”

The rest of the day felt like a pleasant dream, his fingers tangled with Marinette’s, full of little touches, quiet laughter, and light, quick kisses—in between screaming trash talk at the races, which he still found incredibly funny. It was even funnier when Gina joined them, screaming in a garbled mix of Italian and French that had him nearly doubled over laughing. She grinned and ruffled his hair and scolded him half-heartedly.

Finally Luka looked reluctantly up at the nearly-setting sun. “I should go,” he sighed. Gina and Marinette were staying overnight for another set of races the following day, but Luka had only planned on a day trip. “If I leave soon I won’t have to make the whole trip in the dark.”

Marinette sighed and wrapped her hands around his arm, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I’ll walk you back.”

They strolled slowly back to where he was parked, taking their time. Luka perched on the edge of the motorcycle’s seat, and reached for Marinette’s hands. She let him take them and draw her closer so that she was standing between his legs. “I had a great time with you today,” he said, rubbing his thumbs over her hands. “I’m really, really looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Me too,” she said, smiling. “To both.”

“Now that I’m allowed to say it,” he murmured, running his eyes along the line of her shoulder and up her neck, where he’d been longing to run his lips all afternoon, “I want to make sure I tell you that you look super hot today.”

Marinette blushed, but looked pleased. “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah,” Luka sighed, chuckling softly. “Can I kiss you one last time?”

“One last time?” she asked, eyes twinkling above her fake pout.

“Last time today,” Luka corrected with a grin. “All bets are off when I pick you up on Wednesday.”

Marinette giggled. “Shut up and kiss me, Luka.”

He took her face gently in his hands and kissed her, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks, then sliding his hands down to her neck so his thumbs slid along her jaw. He felt her shudder and kissed her deeper, tilting her head back. Her fingers unhooked from where they were clinging to his shirt and slid up his neck and into his hair and she pressed closer, lips parting under his in an invitation he was not about to refuse. He finally pulled back slowly and more than a little reluctantly, giving into the temptation to suck lightly on her criminally plump, soft bottom lip for just an instant before letting it slide from between his lips and opening his eyes. To his satisfaction, when her eyes fluttered open she was looking up at him with the same kind of dazed look he’d given her earlier, her mouth so irresistibly reddened that he laid one more soft kiss on her lips before nuzzling her temple, waiting for her to find the ground again.

When she did she turned her face into his cheek and put her arms around his neck, making a small whine. Luka chuckled, sliding his hands across her back and hugging her tightly to him.

“Hey,” she said against his neck. “One more selfie before you have to go?”

Luka grinned, nuzzling her forehead. “Sure.”

***

“I didn’t know Marinette had a boyfriend,” Adrien commented.

Alya nearly spit her drink across the table. “What?”

Adrien turned his phone towards her to show her his instagram feed and Alya and Nino both gaped. Sure enough there was Marinette with a dark-haired boy with blue tips and a leather jacket. He had his arm around Marinette’s waist and she was draped over his side—wait was she sitting on his knee?—and beaming at the camera. The guy’s smile was softer but just as happy and he was leaning his head against Marinette’s. The sky behind them was streaked with sunset colors. Alya opened her mouth to deny it but Adrien swiped his thumb to show them the next picture, in which the mystery man was kissing a shy, blushing, but obviously happy Marinette on the cheek. The caption only said Fairy tales do come true.

“Wait a minute,” Alya said, grabbing her own phone and swiping furiously. “Isn’t that—yes! It’s the hottie from the motorcycle shop!” She turned another picture towards them from the previous weekend, where Marinette next to (though not nearly so close) the same guy, this time wearing a black t-shirt with a shop logo on it. “Marinette’s been hanging out at motorcycle racing and making out with a bad boy all day!”

“Oh, come on, I doubt she was making out with him.” Adrien rolled his eyes.

Alya now had the picture open on her phone and she looked up at Adrien from it with her eyebrows raised.

“Adrien trust me, that is a girl who has been very recently smooched.”

Adrien frowned, looking back at the picture. “Really? How can you tell? I mean she looks happy, but she could just be having fun.”

“Oh my God, you’re so dense,” Alya groaned. “Nino, what the hell, educate your boy.”

“Ah, nope, sorry. He can learn about makeout face from someone else.” He leaned over to look at Alya’s phone. “Hey, I think I know him,” Nino frowned, leaning closer. “He plays in one of the bands that do the club rounds.”

“Is he a player?” Alya demanded immediately, narrowing her eyes.

Nino shrugged. “Dunno. If he is, he’s not as blatant about it as some of the other guys.”

“That shade of lipstick really suits her,” Adrien commented. “I’ve never seen her wear it before.”

Alya groaned and dropped her head into her arms on the table. “You’re impossible,” came the muffled mutter as Nino patted her back sympathetically.

#quickspins #i'll never not know you #motorcycle fairy #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics #meet-cute

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alindakb · 3 years

Text

Silent Tears - Chapter 4.3 - by Alinda

Harry parks his bike in the shed and moves back into the garden. The one tree they have is leafless and cold, just like the last two months. Harry can't wait for spring to begin, watch the first flowers spring from the ground and sit outside to enjoy the late sunshine. A glass of wine and a good book in his hands. Draco close by with his papers and his quill stuck behind his ear, trying to make sense of the mess his clients present him with. A monitor spell hovering close to keep an eye on the sleeping Teddy.

It's dark by now. Harry had to stay late at the school to have an unpleasant conversation with some parents that think their child is an angel. Harry sometimes wishes he could use a Pensieve to show them what a brat their kid is.

There are no lights on in the house. Harry closes his eyes for a second before he opens the back door. He steps into the kitchen and turns on the lights. His dirty coffee cup from that morning still stands in the sink, accompanied by his plate. There are no other dishes or any sign that someone else lives in this house.

"Please, tell me you didn't stay in bed again all day, " Harry says to the empty air. He doesn't know how much more he can handle. He misses the late nights in front of the fireplace, with wine and good food. The nights they would make love. Draco's laughter and dry humour. And most off all, he misses Teddy. His presence in their life, his silly questions and thoughtful gestures. The way Draco lights up when he’s around. Teddy hasn’t been back since Christmas. Harry doesn’t want him to see Draco like this; he won’t understand and will only get upset because of it.

Harry takes some food from the fridge and places it in the oven to heat up. Then he pulls off his shoes and climbs the stairs. He turns on the lights in their bedroom. Draco lays under the covers, with his back turned to Harry.

"I'm home," Harry says. "I'm warming up some food. I'd like it if you could join me for dinner."

Draco doesn't answer. Harry sighs and walks into the bathroom. He turns on the light and looks into the room. He doesn’t move as he stares at the bottles on the floor. Harry didn’t think they had any left in the house. He would have gotten rid of them otherwise. He closes his eyes and then turns rapidly. He’s at the edge of the bed in seconds.

"Please tell me you didn't, " he says as he kneels. He pulls the duvet from Draco's face. Draco's eyes are closed, and Harry grabs his shoulders.

"Wake up, Draco. Please, wake up." Harry shakes Draco's shoulder. His eyes start to water, and his heart thumps in his chest. Please let him wake up. He can't lose him, not like this.

Draco's eyes open and Harry takes his face in his hands before he can turn away.

"Tell me you didn't, " Harry says.

Draco looks confused, unaware of the terror raising inside Harry. He blinks but doesn’t say a word. Harry wants to slap him, wants to hurt him for doing this to them. He said he would never take them again.

"The potions, please, Draco, did you take them?" Harry’s voice cracks, and he knows he has tears in his eyes by now. He should have seen this coming. He should have dragged Draco to get help, should have listened to Blaise and let them help him. He should have made sure Draco didn’t feel like he had to fall back into oblivion again. Hermione was right that it was wrong to ignore it, to just let it happen, to let it destroy both of them in the process.

Some recognition shows on Draco's face. He shakes his head. Harry let's go of him and lets his head fall into his own hands. He cries, his body shakes from the relief. Maybe he can still save Draco and by doing so also save himself.

“The bottles,” Harry stammers. He waves his hand towards the bathroom. He needs to know where Draco got them from. He will hunt the person down and murder them.

“Leftover from Teddy’s fall,” Draco answers. His voice sounds so hollow, as if it doesn’t matter. It sounds like the Draco from sixth year when he was high all the time and didn’t care what happened next. Harry lifts his head and looks at the man in front of him. His eyes stare past Harry, into the distance.

“Did you take them?” Harry asks again. He needs Draco to say it. It’s the only way he will believe him.

“No,” Draco says without looking at Harry.

“I can’t go back there, Draco,” Harry says. “I can’t watch you destroy yourself. I don’t think I’ll survive.”

Draco doesn’t respond. Harry wishes he would react, wishes he would do something other than lay in bed and do nothing. Hermione was right. She’s always right. Harry hates her for it right now. She said that if Harry would keep ignoring it that he would break himself. And he knows he’s close. Maybe he should listen to her and stay with them for a while, take the pressure off and hope that it will spur Draco into action.

“I love you, but I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” Harry continues. He pushes some of Draco’s hair out of his face. “I want my husband back.”

Draco still doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look at Harry. Harry stands up and moves towards the door. Tears still drip down his cheeks. He balls his fist as the need to punch something raises inside him. He slams his hand against the wall. It hurts, but Harry doesn’t care. He turns and looks back at the silent man in his bed.

“You need help,” Harry says. “I know you don’t want to. I know you think it will do nothing. But I need you to get help. I need you to be yourself again. I can’t stand seeing you like this. I fucking love you, Draco. I will always love you. But I won’t let you destroy us both. If you’re dead set on wasting away, I’m going to need to leave. You’ll make me break my promise. But I need to take care of myself. I can’t crash again. Teddy needs at least one of us. He wants to come home again. Andromeda struggles more and more each day when she picks him up from school. He wants to come home. He said he wants to spend time with his dads. He calls us his dads, Draco. So if you can’t do this for me, please do it for him. He misses you. And he’s angry. Andromeda said he’d put Teddy-bear in the bin because he didn’t make you happy again. Fuck, I don’t even know why I tell you this. It’s not like you care. Just like you didn’t care that your boss fired you two weeks ago. You used to love that job, and you just let it slip out of your fingers by not showing up anymore. It’s not healthy, Draco. Fuck, do you even register anymore what’s happing around you? Have you even noticed that Teddy hasn’t been here since Christmas? Don’t you miss him? Don’t you miss us?”

Harry stands in front of the bed. Draco doesn’t move. His eyes stay unfocused. Harry still isn’t sure if Draco tells the truth about the potions. He hates that he doubts Draco, but he’s unresponsive and doesn’t seem to care at all that Harry slowly breaks down in front of him.

“Are you even listening to me?” Harry yells. “Bloody hell, Draco. We don’t have to have a baby. I don’t want it. Not like this. I know I always said I wanted a family, children of our own. But not like this, not if it means I lose you in the process. You are my world, and I love you. I will always love you, no matter what.” As soon as Harry says it, he knows it’s true. It’s not like he suddenly doesn’t want to have children anymore, but he knows for sure he can give them up if it means he gets Draco back.

Harry closes his eyes and tries to stop the tremors in his arms. He wants to hit something again. Fuck, he wants to slam his fist against Draco, just to get a reaction out of the man. But he knows it won’t. It seems like nothing gets through to him anymore.

“I’m going to have some dinner. And if you don’t join me,” Harry wavers. He doesn’t want to do this, he doesn’t want this to end, but Hermione is usually right, and it might work. And Harry can’t stand around anymore and watch Draco destroy himself. “If you don’t join me, I’m packing my bag to stay at Ron and Hermione's. You can go and destroy yourself all alone. Just know that when you do, you destroy me along with you.”

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #silent tears #h/d hurtfest 2020 #depressed draco #fertility problems #mpreg #past potion addiction #past addiction

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harryandmolly · 5 years

Text

Complicit // 11

summary: Shawn is under more pressure than he’s ever known. He craves release and comfort, the simplicity of sex. He gets more than he bargained for.

warnings: language, NSFW, a bulldozer

WC: 6.1k

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Penny stops outside the spotless glass doors of Silver’s home and uses the reflection to primp one last time.

She’s in fine form today, at least on the outside. In a sleek peach-toned Cushnie pencil dress and the first pair of Louboutins she ever purchased (the nude ones with the pointed toes), she means business. She’s the kind of put together that puts the fear of god into the hearts of every man she walks past. She craves that kind of control right now.

She can’t control her feelings, she can’t control his. But she can control her wardrobe and her hair and the reports she runs for the monthly La Splendeur financials. She fights to focus on what she can control.

Silver’s housekeeper walks her back to the library. Silver in a pantsuit black as night sits in sharp relief against her walls stacked high with colorful books. The first time Penny ever made Silver laugh was the first time Silver invited her here and Penny immediately commented on its resemblance to the Beast’s library in Beauty and the Beast.

Silver looks pleased to see her. Any residual weirdness from their last meeting is gone, at least visibly. She’s serving lapsang oolong from her English garden tea set today.

“Good morning, love. I do like your dress. And your necklace sits above it nicely.”

Penny lifts a hand like she wants to check it’s still there. She’s wearing Shawn’s necklace. It seems a waste to leave it in a box in a safe, where it’s been since Ava died. Silver herself said that. And it does go so well with the dress.

Penny smiles placidly. “Thank you. How was Monaco?”

Silver looks mischievous for a moment. Penny finds herself grinning back, enjoying the spark she sees.

“Hot. A little muggy. Terribly crowded.”

Silver’s expression doesn’t match her words.

“Who is she?” Penny laughs.

Silver lifts her chin in defiance. “Tell me I’m not that transparent.”

Penny snorts indelicately and sips her tea. “Silver, you’re as transparent as a cinderblock. But you forget how well I know you.”

The women exchange a meaningful look. Silver glances down at her perfect manicure.

“Her name is Sylvie. She owns a cafe on the Boulevard de Suisse. She makes the best mille feuille I’ve ever had.”

Penny’s eyebrows lift slightly. There’s something in Silver’s voice now that replaces the familiar mischief with which she talks about her romantic dalliances. It’s a little trembling, a little soft, a little warm. Penny attempts to remain stoic. Spooking her is the worst possible thing Penny could do.

“Wow. Sounds like a nice trip.”

Silver meets her eyes. “It was. I’ll be going back next week.”

Penny only barely manages to school her face out of a delighted grin. Silver shakes her head softly and opens her portfolio.

Numbers are up this summer from last. All the girls have been doing very well. Silver has interest in bringing on a few more, has gotten recommendations from girls on the roster, which is where the best talent comes from. Penny assures her that financially, they’re in an excellent position to expand.

“Speaking of expanding, how are things looking on the non-profit end?” Penny murmurs without looking up from her laptop. She can feel Silver’s curious gaze.

“Still tying up some legal loose ends in the back before we really move ahead,” Silver answers carefully.

Penny looks up now with her game face on. “Anything I can do to help us along? I’d like to get moving on it.”

Silver’s expression goes a little sour. She puts her teacup down more forcefully than necessary. Penny flinches.

“You were singing a different tune during our last meeting, love.”

The corners of Penny’s lips pull in slightly. “I don’t believe that’s true, I checked on the progress and you gave me an update and said it was slow. I’m checking again now and you say it’s still slow. So perhaps I should step in.”

Silver’s eyes narrow. “Please don’t forget how well I know you.”

The words are simple and somehow both threatening and loving. Penny’s stable facade breaks. She looks down.

“I know very well how long you’ve wanted to do this kind of work. I know how important this is to you. That’s why I was surprised when you seemed flippant about it last week.”

“I wasn’t flippant, I--”

“Penny, please. Don’t suggest that I can’t read you. It’s insulting to me and to our friendship.”

Penny’s mouth shuts. She feels like a scolded child.

“And now you’re getting impatient to get started. I don’t understand, my darling. Please. Explain this to me.”

Penny’s lips part. She hesitates and reaches for her teacup instead.

Silver softens. “You’re allowed to be a little lost, you know.”

Penny’s eyes shut as she chews on her lower lip. “Don’t like getting lost,” she mutters.

“None of us do, babe. But you need to choose your path now. You owe it to your clients and to this foundation.”

Penny’s expression goes dark. “Don’t make this about him.”

Silver eschews her infuriating wise owl gaze and leans into sympathy instead. She shakes her head slowly.

“I didn’t. You seem to have gotten there on your own.”

Penny’s face goes hot. Her chin quivers slightly. Silver reaches across the table and takes her hand. The physical contact freezes Penny in her tracks.

“Listen to me, my love. I know this is scary. Everything is changing on you right now. But you always knew you couldn’t escort forever. You always knew you wanted to help in a larger, more lasting way. I know he isn’t the reason you want to move forward with the foundation. But… it’s ok if he’s the reason you want to do it now.”

Penny’s jaw locks up. Her hand slips cold from her friend’s grasp. She gathers her folders and laptop and stands.

“I have to go.”

Her voice is a croak. Silver winces in response, but leans back in her seat and watches her go.

Well this is…. Not what he pictured.

Shawn’s not exactly sure what he envisioned when he thought about where Penny lives. It shifted depending on her mood when she was with him. Sometimes he imagined her living in a big, scary haunted house-looking mansion deep in the Hills. Sometimes he pictured a bright, vibrant penthouse in Santa Monica.

Not this. It’s so… normal.

It’s lovely, obviously. It’s a little cottage almost all by itself in the Studio City hills. She parks the leased Passat in the driveway and keeps the Aston Martin in the garage. She has a welcome mat that asks visitors to wipe their paws. Pammy’s leash is hanging from a railing on the porch.

He stands in front of her door for almost five minutes trying to prepare himself to walk into her private space and not become a walking heart eye emoji.

He’s in LA for 24 hours for meetings and a premiere with Bex. He has painters in his house, so they can’t go there. He doesn’t even have time for an overnight with her. So she takes him as an in call.

It’s standard procedure to have a driver meet the client at the courtesan’s house when she’s taking an in call, but Penny waved Gus off. Given that she’s a partner in the business, she has the power to do so. Gus sends her confirmation of Shawn’s wire transfer and tells her if she needs anything, anything at all, he’ll be close by at Jamie’s tennis tournament. He’s a little twitchy, she thinks, because actually, Penny’s never taken an in call before.

Pammy hears him walk up before she does, even over the soft crooning of “Songs for Young Lovers” on vinyl. With little sniffs and gruff grunts, Pammy jogs to the door to greet their guest.

The sun is behind him when she opens the door, casting him golden and glowing as he smiles at her. She smiles back.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he greets, and she’s beset with butterflies walking him into her foyer to meet her dog and breathe her air.

His attention turns almost immediately to Pammy, who’s very eagerly and politely sitting, thumping her tail and waiting to be noticed. Shawn doesn’t disappoint.

He crouches low, holds out his hand and ducks his head a little, looking non-threatening. “Hi. Are you Pammy?”

Pammy walks up for his inspection without answering him. She thoroughly sniffs the hand he offers and when she decides he’s decent enough to let in, she snuggles up against his chest for pets.

Shawn, having been recognized by Pammy for the puppy he is, lifts his head to look at Penny in triumph. “She likes me!”

“She does,” Penny agrees, flustered and glancing around her foyer like she’s looking for more personal items to clear out, though there wasn’t really anything there when she did a walk-through earlier, just the painting of the Las Vegas Strip in the 50s.

Shawn stands and pleasantly towers over her. His eyes flit to her lips as he smirks. He looks back up at her eyes for permission.

Penny tilts her head up and lets him kiss her, nice and soft and sweet. Probably too sweet. It reminds her of Silver’s words the day before. When he pulls away, she bites her lip.

“The premiere’s tonight?” Penny mutters weakly, walking him into the living room where the record player whirls and the blinds are open to the hills. Shawn gazes around, memorizing. He nods.

“I have to leave here at 4.”

Penny does some mental math. “Guess we better get started.”

She turns on her heel and plants her lips back on his. He catches her, a bit startled, whimpering into the firm set of her mouth. She backs him into the wall and slips her hands beneath his shirt, feeding on the perfect sizzle of his hot skin. He explores her mouth, keeping his hands on either side of her neck until she tells him otherwise. As he starts to run out of breath, he notices her hands are still and her lips aren’t moving against his with the same fervor. His brow puckers. He pulls away slightly.

“You ok?” he pants.

She nods and sucks him back in. Her thumbs work against the dips in his obliques and it makes him dizzy, but he still feels a disconnect. He settles further into the wall and tugs a little at her hair, feeling like a needy kid. She doesn’t react.

“Hey,” he tries again, pulling back more fully this time, “If you’re not into this, we really don’t have to do anything. Seriously.”

“What?” she asks dumbly.

Shawn goes pink. “I mean, we can just hang out. Or… I can go. It’s whatever.”

If she sent him away, he could totally pretend not to be devastated. No problem.

Penny chews the inside of her lip, then tilts her head forward to rest against his chest. “‘S not you.”

Shawn resists his desire to nuzzle his cheek against her hair. Instead, he cups his hands around her upper arms and rubs her softly.

“I’ve been having… a weird couple days.”

Shawn’s brows lift, but she doesn’t elaborate. He nods.

“Do you want to talk?”

She shakes her head.

“Do you… want me to go?”

Her pause before she shakes her head is the longest of his whole godforsaken life.

He feels a little desperate. “What can I do?”

She lifts her head from his chest. She looks worn and maybe a little panicked underneath. It rises in him in response.

“I don’t know,” she sighs.

Shawn absently combs his fingers through the ends of her hair. He looks around.

What helps him feel better when he’s distracted and wigging out a little? She does. Maybe he just has to be ok with the idea that he doesn’t have the same effect on her.

His heart thuds extra hard for a beat in his chest. Maybe he could.

Shawn sweeps his hands up to position his thumbs under her ears, tilting her face up.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” he breathes.

Her expression goes blank. She looks lost. He wets his lips and tries again, like he’s trying on a suit that he’s not sure fits.

He brushes his nose over her brow and hopes his voice is steady when he says, “You wanna be my good girl?”

Penny feels her hands, still resting on his sides, clench hard. The strangled gasp she releases sounds kind of like a moan. She’s suddenly very aware of him, of everything about him -- his light hint of cologne, the tenderness of his lips on her forehead as he smirks, the sheer size and broadness of him in her arms.

“That a yes?”

Words fail her. Her head is whistling like it’s ready to fly off her body. She’s glad he’s holding her up because otherwise her knees would’ve gone weak.

“I’ve… I mean, no one’s ever…”

“I know,” he soothes, surprised by his own confidence, but he supposes he learned it from her, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll go easy on you.”

Penny recognizes the words. She’s probably said them before. Being on the receiving end is different. She thinks if anyone else tried them on for her, she’d laugh and pin them into a corner, reminding them who’s in charge.

But as he holds her, she can feel the way his desire to shoulder her burden is seeping off him. His gaze is steady. If he’s anxious at all about stepping into her shoes, she can’t see it.

Is she really about to do this? Is she ready to strip off all the armor she’s so carefully crafted and made a home of? It doesn’t even feel like armor anymore -- it’s a second skin, as close to her as she’s let anything get.

Her own responding certainty runs so deep it touches her trembling bones. She doesn’t feel like fighting it. She wants this with him, wherever it ends up taking them.

“Please.”

When her eyes drift open again, his are locked on her, virile and hungry and so fucking alive. She swears she could come just by looking at them. They watch her for a moment or two, then drop. He pries her claw-like hands off his body and holds them between his own. He cradles them against his lips, blinking up at her lazily, a single curl falling over his hot gaze.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

His words restart her breath. She nods behind him. He gestures toward the hallway she points down and follows her little steps as she guides him.

Her bedroom is bright, surrounded by windows on three walls in the corner of the house. The ceiling gables to a peak so it feels like a little tower. Her bed takes up most of the space -- it’s enormous with white wrought iron head and footboards and blood red sheets. It’s covered in dog hair -- he bets Pammy usually sleeps there with her.

He grins and spends time unapologetically studying. He can feel the way her eyes track him, waiting for his next move. He finds he enjoys being the cat to her mouse. He wasn’t sure it could feel natural, but he finds he wants to relieve her. This is the best way to do it.

He stops in front of a photo print on her wall, a black and white portrait. It’s a close up. Her hair is wet and slung around her face. She appears to be laughing so hysterically it’s almost a scream. Shawn recognizes it and is sure it came from the shoot she used in her La Splendeur portfolio. He glances over his shoulder at her to see her watching him with her hands folded.

“You’ve really never done this before? Not even before you started escorting?”

Penny shrugs. “No. I mean, I wasn’t always so bossy, but I’ve never been… a sub.”

Shawn turns, smiling. “Something tells me you’ve always been a little bossy.”

Penny’s eyes flash for a moment and he can see the domme in her, the one that will always be there, even when she needs a rest. It shoots a thrill up his spine. He gets to give her what she needs this time.

“I’m gonna take your clothes off now,” he says quietly, waiting for her nod before his fingers skip to the buttons of her shirt. He plucks at them, watching more freckled brown skin come out as he goes. He licks his lips, and then remembers he can taste her whenever the hell he wants. With a little murmur, he ducks his head and sucks on her collarbone right next to her throat. She mewls, tilting her head to accommodate him, dragging her hands up his sides.

Shawn stops. He bares his teeth against her shoulder. Her eyes fly open.

“Baby, you know the rules. No hands until I tell you.”

Penny’s chest tightens. She drops her grasp on him. From her shoulder, he watches her little hands clench into fists. He scoops her closer and sucks harder, working the rest of her buttons until he can shrug it off her shoulders. It flutters to their feet. Shawn starts in on the button of her boyfriend jeans, securing his lips now to the base of her throat to suck a twin burgundy mark. Penny’s breathing is heavy and erratic. She’s having trouble letting go.

Once he gets her clothes off, she’s left in a set of heathered gray Calvin Klein lingerie. He laughs. She preens a little.

“Did you do this on purpose?”

Penny sweeps her hair off her shoulders and looks down, licking her lips. “I fuck in my Calvins.”

Shawn’s eyes go dark. He shakes his head slowly. “No you don’t, honey. Take ‘em off.”

He steps back, rests his ass against her dresser and hopes his knuckles aren’t visibly white against the antique wood. She sheds the sports bra first, bending to drop it at her feet, letting her breasts swing. She rises slowly, teasing him. He’s enjoying it. She loops her thumbs through the panties at her hips and drags them down. Shawn spots the wetness darkening the crotch and grunts approvingly.

He looks her up and down. She stands tall and confident because that doesn’t come from the domme in her, that’s just Penny. He tilts his head.

“Where’s your necklace, Pen?”

Her easy confidence is rocked. She blinks and looks around. When she can’t find the words around her, she looks back at him, wide-eyed.

“Wanna see you in it when I make you come.”

Penny’s thighs squeeze. Shawn bites his lip.

She goes to her vanity and reaches into the first drawer. The red box is cracked and faded by time, but what’s in it still shines like the day it was made. She locks eyes with him in the mirror while she clasps it around her pretty neck.

Shawn takes slow, quiet steps up behind her, eyes trained on hers until he’s a breath away. He looks down and admires the glimmer from the curve of her neck. Now exposed to her other unmarked side, he slips a hand down to her stomach to anchor her against him. The other delicately traces the path of diamonds along her throat.

“It’s so pretty, huh, Pen?” he rasps.

She nods. “Really pretty.”

He hums and presses his lips against her jugular, feeling his pulse thrum as hers does.

“And who got it for you?” His voice is a muffled growl against her skin.

She closes her eyes. “You did.”

He skims up along her jaw to the corner of her soft mouth. “That’s right, baby.”

His warm hand cups her throat, not applying pressure but just to hold her head back while he kisses her nearly upside down. She’s eager and responsive now, gripping the little chair in front of her vanity but still squirming under his control. The hand on her stomach dips between her legs. She’s nice and wet, but still not as wet as he wants when he takes her.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he grunts into her mouth, swallowing the crooning whine she releases when he works the heel of his hand against her clit. She spreads her legs a little wider, giving her the purchase to work back against his hand for more friction. He clocks her greediness and smiles against her sweet lips, giving her clit a rough smack. She yelps and lets it trail into a moan.

“Getting desperate, sweetheart?”

His voice is all sharp honey. She wants to fucking bathe in it. She whines again weakly and lets her weight fall back against him. He holds her up, locking an arm around her stomach so the hand between her legs can come up to offer to her.

“Have a taste.”

Penny looks down at his glistening fingers. She brings her hand up to cradle his, and he allows it, focusing on her mouth as she sucks his fingers in between her lips.

Penny’s not unfamiliar with the taste. She’s sucked on fingers and toys that are coated in her many times, but never like this, never as it’s being presented to her by a partner. It’s headier and more erotic. She moans low, overwhelmed by it. Shawn’s eyes dim.

“Fuck, you like that? You taste so fucking good, huh?”

She nods eagerly, still swirling her tongue around his fingers one by one. The arm around her holds her fast while he grinds, still fully clothed, against her perfect round ass. She releases his fingers with a filthy slurp and pants at him.

“Can I suck your cock?”

Shawn wants to fall to his knees for her, but resists, given her request. He kisses her hard, nodding, letting her turn in his arms and lead him to the bed. On the way, she shucks him out of his t-shirt and jeans. He’s in gray Calvins, too. She giggles. It makes his cock throb.

He sits on the edge of her bed. She kneels in between his legs, charged by the confident way he shifts a hand into her hair and spreads his knees. His eyes are molten, looking down at her. She cups him through his briefs and sighs.

“Missed your cock.”

Shawn groans, his brow wrinkling. “Show me.”

With one last glance up at him, she pulls him free, tugging his briefs off his ankles to fling away with her own Calvins.

Penny leans in, her hands planted on his powerful quads, her breath short at seeing how he’s already leaking for her. She curls her tongue over the tip of his cock greedily to swipe up his salty precome. He hums.

“Gonna take me nice and deep, honey?”

She’s never heard him talk like this. It makes her lightheaded and whimpery. She nods and kisses a path down the underside of his shaft to his balls. She peppers them with kisses, light and teasing, then follows her trail back up.

She stops with her lips brushing his head. It pulses for her eagerly. She runs her tongue along the ridge, enjoying the way his stomach clenches.

“I want you to fuck my throat,” she whispers, her voice sounding like he’s already done it.

Shawn’s eyes nearly roll back in his head. “Fuck yeah, baby. Shit. Yeah, wanna feel your throat around my cock.”

With his hand still firmly in her hair, she slicks him down first with her tongue, bobbing her head a few times until her nose brushes his abdomen, warming herself up. She pulls back up, catching his eye, nodding without releasing him from her mouth.

It occurs to Shawn as he starts to slowly rock his hips that he’s never actually… done this. He’s had many blowjobs -- the good, the bad and the ugly. Penny has sucked him down several times, each more perfect than the last. But he’s never been asked to treat a woman’s throat like her pussy before. He hears himself whine as he grazes the back of Penny’s throat, only to feel her swallow.

“Shit, that feels… Pen…” he breathes, letting himself pick up a rhythm, planting his feet for leverage. Her hands rub at his inner thighs, coaxing them apart as she scoots forward, eager for more.

He watches in amazement until he realizes he can’t because he’s so fucking close to coming in her pretty mouth and he’d so much rather come in her warm cunt. He eases her back by her hair, watching her slurp at his bright red tip, popping her lips around it in a way that almost makes him thrust back up into her mouth and say screw it.

“So good, honey, shit, fuck, we gotta…” He chuckles at himself, at the way he sounds like he’s really ready to bust. He shakes his head and falls back into her sheets, inhaling deeply.

“We gotta slow down. Not ready to come yet.”

Her sheets smell like lavender fabric softener. She leans her cheek against his inner thigh, sneaking a little kiss.

“Shawn?”

Her voice is softer than he’s ever heard it. He lifts his head to look at her.

Her brown eyes are peering at him from over his thigh. She blinks quickly.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask… you for something?”

His heart squeezes. He nods.

Penny turns her face into his thigh, brushing her nose through the downy hair there.

“Will you spank me? Please?”

Shawn lurches upright, leaning on his hand as he stares down at her.

“Say it again.”

He hears himself give the command but doesn’t remember thinking it.

She folds her hands in her lap. “Please spank me.”

Shawn beams at her, reaching for her hand and yanking her up onto the bed and against his warm, needy body. They both writhe and moan in reaction to the fullest contact they’ve had, skin against skin, desperation mixing. He tastes her desire on her tongue, mixed with his own saltiness. He groans and bites into her lower lip, cupping her firm ass in both hands. She arches into it, fisting the sheets in her hands as she fights her instinct to touch him, to take whatever she needs.

Instead, she lets him give it.

Shawn holds her close and sits up, cradling her in his lap. He spreads tender kisses across her cheeks and chin and mouth, his fingers crawling over his most precious -- her shoulder blades.

He gets her so soft and pliant in his arms he almost decides not to let her go. But she’s squirming and wet and he thinks maybe he’s about to fulfill a long held curiosity and fantasy of hers, and what could be better than getting to do that for someone you love?

Shawn sighs into her hair, tucking it back behind her ear so he can whisper.

“Lie across my lap.”

The responding whimper is so sweet, so charged and eager, Shawn’s hips rut up against her before he can stop them. She’s dripping in his lap and he thinks her spanking is only going to make her wetter. The heady power makes him growl again. His toes curl against her rug.

He helps position Penny across his lap facedown. Her thighs are clamped together, likely to offer her some relief as he traces patterns across her smooth hamstrings. The well-used muscles clench magnificently. Her back arches, offering him her plump, round ass like a fucking Christmas present.

Penny holds herself up proudly, taking the first teasing smacks against her soft flesh with only gentle, approving coos. He distracts her, teasing his fingertips down her thighs and out over her hips. She breathes shakily.

When the first hard spank comes on her left cheek, she yelps. Shawn’s hand holds tight, squeezing to make a mark, keeping the bite in place just like she does when she spanks him.

Suddenly, the pressure is gone. His hand rests limply.

“Penny, what’s your safe word?”

His voice is totally sober and clear. She blinks out of the haze.

“Uh… I don’t… have one.”

His thumb rubs a circle into the palm mark he left. “Can you pick one?”

Penny squints. She can barely remember what day it is, she’s so gone. She glances around the room, looking for inspiration. Her eyes land on her closet.

“Stiletto.”

She can hear Shawn’s smirk. He accedes and goes back to massaging the nice welt he left from his first strike. He leaves another on her other cheek to match. Penny squirms. She knows he can feel her wetness pooling in his lap. She knows that’s why he isn’t afraid to spank her a little harder -- the harder it gets, the more she drips.

Penny lies slack across his lap, weightless, worry-less. The pleasure-pain has her higher than any other substance she’s tried. She feels so fucking free with him, safe and cherished in a way she can’t quite replicate on the other side of a punishment.

There’s an element of awe in a D/s relationship. If it’s right, it’s shared by both parties -- the dominant partner in awe of their submissive’s willingness, their singular desire for whatever the dominant wants to give them; and the submissive in awe of their dominant’s ability to strip them of everything that stresses, aches or bothers, leaving them only to feel what the dominant wants them to feel. Penny thinks she understands both now so fully as she arches her back a little higher and murmurs into the pillow, waiting to see what else he’ll give her.

On the third slap across her left cheek, she cries out and comes off her elbows, letting her cheek rest against her duvet as he rubs her and coos.

“Fuck, such a good girl for me,” Shawn marvels. His erection is trapped between his stomach and her side. She writhes against it, gifting him the same relief he’s giving her.

His hand slips between her thighs. Penny moans, leaning her weight back into it. Shawn slips two fingers inside her, sighing.

“Fucking soaked. Want you nice and ready for my cock.”

Penny’s gurgling mewl would be embarrassing with anyone else. She thinks he likes watching her react when he flicks his wrist a certain way, brushes her g-spot teasingly, or scissors his fingers apart. She gasps and squeaks and moans and whines and cries out when his free hand slaps at one of the livid marks her left on her perky ass. He soaks it all in with an easy smile until she’s panting, desperate.

“Please, I need your cock,” she sobs, pressing her hip up against it again, tempting him. His eyes droop, showing weakness.

Shawn doesn’t see the point in waiting any longer. He’s ready to make her come all over him, to burst inside her in that way that could never be so satisfying with anyone else. He eases his fingers out of her, lavishing them with his tongue while she watches. Her pussy clenches again, waiting for him to fill it.

He helps her off his lap, still smirking, easing her onto her stomach with her head on a pillow. He pauses.

“Pen, do you want a condom?” he asks softly. She shakes her head no, facedown. His cock gives a twitch.

Shawn straddles her, his knees bracketing hers as he lowers himself down against her back, reveling in her sharp inhale when his cock slips between her thighs. They start to rock in time like they planned it, but it’s just them. Shawn moans contentedly against her neck.

“Been so good and sweet for me, Penny. My perfect girl.”

Penny hums in reply. It rumbles through Shawn’s chest where he’s pressed against her.

“Gonna make you feel so good, honey. Wanna make you come so fucking hard for me. Can you do that?”

Penny nods before he’s even finished the question. He grins and kisses a mark he left on her shoulder.

Shawn eases back and positions himself at her entrance, held up just barely by his knees. He takes a breath, closes his eyes, and presses his hips forward.

Shawn remembers the first time she let him in. She reached between her legs, her eyes never leaving his, and guided him in herself, slinging a leg over his shoulder like they did it every day. It was hot and brazen and he came a little embarrassingly fast but she just beamed at him and let him play with her nipples until he fell asleep, only to fuck him harder when he woke up before dawn. It wasn’t intimate, it wasn’t elevating, it was just satisfying.

Shawn turns his face into Penny’s neck. He can feel her pulse and hear her sharp breathing into the pillow as her body adjusts to his. With his weight against her, she’s enclosed by him and still reaches for more, sliding a hand up to clap over his, linking their fingers. Shawn’s hips snap forward once, hard, in response to her instinctively personal gesture. Penny rocks with the motion, gasping wetly into the pillow.

“Feels good, sweetheart?”

Penny squirms at the pet name, one she’s never heard from him before, it only made an appearance tonight after he donned his dom costume.

“Good. So… good,” Penny sighs, running her thumb against his. Shawn looks at their fingers and it has him rocking back up against her to start a comfortable rhythm.

She’s cradled beneath him, wet and content, holding his hand, her body gripping his cock like maybe they’re in love but fuck, he’s not gonna say it, he’s definitely not gonna say it because she hasn’t said it and he’s still paying for the privilege of being balls deep inside her, even if it’s the greatest privilege of his life.

So he swings his hips a little faster into the red, welted flesh of her ass and absorbs every moaning breath she gifts him like he’s losing his hearing tomorrow.

Penny is melting. She’s smearing makeup onto her pillow, she’s dripping wetness into her sheets, she’s fucking coming apart. But it’s more than that. She’s never felt like this before. And she’s seen and heard a million women say it. She understood conceptually what they meant, but she never got the glassy awayness in their eyes when they said it. Penny can’t see herself now, and she’s glad she can’t, but she bets her eyes are pretty thoroughly glazed.

Beneath his perfect hips and pressed up against his broad chest, she’s somewhere she never thought she’d be. She’s under, not over, out of control but not powerless. She didn’t think the happy medium could exist in her life, not when she’s spent most of it fighting for as much control as she could gather. Control meant comfort. If it was broken, she could fix it. If she couldn’t, it was on her. But it was a burden she could deal with. She never had help. She didn’t ask for it. She didn’t want it.

But that’s not really true. She’s always had Peter. She’s always had Gus. She’s always had Silver. The man shifting his hips above her to find her g-spot while he sucks on her earlobe and squeezes her fingers is new to the picture but becoming maybe just as important.

Perhaps the things she values most in life are those she can’t control.

She presses her forehead into the pillow. Her chest is caving in with each swing as it bottles up inside her. She shakes her head slightly, wetting her lips. Holding it in.

“Penny, fuck, honey, I’m so close.”

Her release of breath is a sob so sudden and so violent that Shawn’s rhythm falters. He slows, tucking his head over her shoulder to check on her. His eyes are wide. His lips are parted.

“Pen--”

“Mia.”

Shawn’s hips stop altogether. He’s buried so deep neither of them can breathe, but neither of them moves, either.

“What?” he pants.

She turns her face, brushing her nose against his. His eyes fall shut.

“My name is Mia, not Penny. Mia Violetta Bianchi. My name is Mia.”

Mia. Mia. Mia.

The connections snapping in place in Shawn’s brain feel like livewires sparking all over the place. He pants harder into her ear, though he’s stopped moving.

Mia. Mia. Mia.

He holds her hand tighter and starts stroking harder, feeling her body pulse around his, a hot, wet warning.

Mia. Mia. Mia.

He doesn’t realize until now he’s been saying it out loud. Her name. Her real name.

“Mia,” he breathes, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, “Come for me, Mia.”

Her body pops like a bottle of champagne. She goes impossibly tight around him, pulsing erratically, desperately seeking his mouth to cry into as she comes harder than he’s ever fucking seen. He follows blindly, his hips taking off without him. He calls out her name over and over as he releases inside her, like he’s trying to make up for every time he’s said the other name. By the time his most powerful orgasm to date abates, leaving him shaking and ready for collapse against her soft, languid body, he can’t think anything else.

Mia.

He feels something’s wrong before he even wakes up. He turns over to find her sitting on the edge of her own bed beside him, staring at him mournfully. She doesn’t appear to have been crying, but she looks close enough.

“Hey,” he whispers, starting to sit up.

Mia turns her head, looking at the floor. The motion makes one of the center diamonds in her necklace catch the light. He’s never wanted to touch her so badly.

“I need to ask you for something.”

He nods. “Anything.”

“I need you to leave me alone for awhile.”

Shawn’s eyes slide shut and he thinks maybe his body is willing him back to sleep so he doesn’t have to face this.

“Ok,” he breathes.

“Just… I need some time. I know if you call I’m supposed to see you, so I’m asking you, please, if you care for me at all, don’t call me. I… don’t know how long. But I need this, Shawn.”

Her sincerity is jarring, as is the tightness with which she’s wrapped up in her terrycloth bathrobe.

“Yeah. Ok. I--”

He was about to say he understood, but he doesn’t. Not really. He bets there’s a lot he doesn’t understand. He drops his gaze.

She stands and looks at him again. “I’ll be in the shower.”

Don’t be here when I come out.

The message is unspoken but clear. In a daze, Shawn dresses and walks out. On his way, he passes a stack of mail on a credenza addressed to Mia Bianchi.

---------

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kissmyshnymetalass · 3 years

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Military Transition Information

Sections:

- Actual GOMOR

- REFRAD

- SFL-TAP

- Resources

- General Separation Tips

- Job Hunting and Resume

- LinkedIn

- Other Job Hunting Sites (ZipRecruiter/Clearance Jobs/etc)

- Certifications

ACTUAL GOMOR Nothing to say about this really. It is what it is. You can’t fight it. My parents hired some hot shot civilian lawyer who was horribly expensive but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Ultimately it all comes down to the fact that it isn’t LAW. It is UCMJ and there’s nothing to fight. Your command team has that power. They just do. It is pure bullshit. It drives me crazy. You could try writing your congress person or the army times to put the spotlight on unfair, maddening, preposterous nonsense judgmental decisions but…otherwise you’re boned. My recommendation is to keep your head down and try not to freak out. When my battalion commander told me it would be permanently filed I had a total rage glitch and yelled at him. Did not improve my position, ha. See if you can get moved to another battalion or brigade. That’s a big ask because you’re now branded. But if anyone is still in your corner (a Battalion XO or S3 or even a S1 who is respected and will advocate for you. Maybe the Brigade FSO if you have a good reputation) it can give you breathing room to no longer be in that environment. I had pull with division and was able to get onto staff up there after my flag was lifted. They knew I was only there to transition and were really cool about it- your mileage may vary. REFRAD

The first step is to get a copy of the REFRAD packet. It is mainly memos. Your S1 should have a copy. Then clarify what gates it has to hit (Battalion to Brigade to Division to Installation to HRC I’m pretty sure) and who the people are. You can do this while you’re flagged (if you’re flagged which I assume you are). You can’t submit until you’re unflagged but you can do drafts and send them to the S1 to get corrections. I’d let your command know of your intent to separate if you have any kind of ability to talk to them and let them know you’d appreciate if they could sign this stuff right away. I made it overwhelmingly clear that I disagreed with their handling of the situation and would like to just get out of there as fast as possible. They obliged by signing everything without the “required” counseling sessions.

I submitted mine on like July 6th or 7th and received my approval from HRC O/A 20 August but had to hand walk it. Basically had to call the S1 shop at Battalion every day until they routed to Brigade. Then the same thing with Brigade. Then with Installation. Etc. It is just best to be a pain in the ass about it because otherwise it can get stuck at a gate and require corrections and you’ll just never know about it because S1 sucks, ha. After you get your approval from HRC you still have to wait to get clearing papers and orders. That can take a while. I’m pretty sure I had my orders 9-10 days after getting approval and was given clearing papers six working days before my final out (which was around 16 October). SFL-TAP SFL-TAP was stupid but you may see benefits. There were a couple of contractors hunting for separating Soldiers so you maybe you’ll meet someone like that. Otherwise SFL-TAP went over pretty basic stuff like “consider benefits in addition to salary when job hunting” or “here’s what to wear.” It was FINE. But I wouldn’t say that officers are really the target audience. They will expose you to a few transition assistance programs which could be helpful though. Like I think there is a Microsoft administrator course that is 3-4 months you can do that SFL-TAP can give you info about. Other things like credentialing programs, certification courses, job fairs, etc. I did not use any of these services but I have heard they can be helpful. RESOURCES YOU WILL HEAR ABOUT, YMMV ACP Partnerships. American Corporate Partners. Basically you can apply on their website and they can hook you up with a mentor in your preferred field. I did this and it was fine. I received a mentor but she wasn’t super helpful. I think your experience really depends on your mentor. I’ve heard from others that their mentors are awesome. The nice thing about this is that they assign you a mentorship manager and that person will be very aggressive about providing you with resources (interview prep, resume reviewer, etc)

Corporate Fellowship Program. You can visit hiringourheroes.org. They can basically set you up with a corporate internship. Usually reserved for service members who are going to stay geographically close to their installation. Once again, I did not use this service but I have heard GREAT things and have a close friend who participated and she raves about it. Cameron Brooks/other junior officer recruitment companies. I did Cameron Brooks for a few months. I did not tell them about the GOMOR, ha. Didn’t mention the flag at all. They won’t call your command or anything so I just viewed it as keeping non-essential information to myself. It was also fine. It is free. They will give you books to read and counsel you and do interview prep and everything. It is a nice service. They told me they only “accept the best” as clients. Probably not true so don’t let them convince you they are some secret sauce. They just have a very codified approach. I have heard from others that they can land you in a good job but most are in less desirable locations (like the mid-west. Or Kansas). If you are afraid of transitioning this is kind of nice. Like having a bossy older brother who “knows a guy.” Other Useful “Leaving the Army” Tips Make sure you have a log in to mypay set up. Once you final out your CAC won’t work anywhere. Forward yourself anything in your military email that you may need or want. Download your medical records. Set up a DS login. Stuff like that. I lost a lot because I never did it. Oh well. But learn from my experience, ha. Print off your clothing record and do CIF prep now. At my last installation they wouldn’t make me a CIF appointment until the last six workdays I was in the Army and I had to go back three or four times and it was stressful. Do your homework and equipment cleaning now. All in all it wasn’t too bad. Military surplus stores will work with you. The one near me let me take what I needed from them for free (like a sleeping mat, grenade pouch and ACU print assault pack) with the agreement that once I was cleared I would give them all remaining equipment I had. They made out big in that deal because after a decade I had a ton of shit. Do all the basics. Clean your stuff, get rid of tape residue, etc. Job Hunting and Resumes Oh job hunting. You son of a bitch. First things first, get LinkedIn. Get Premium. I’m pretty sure you can do this for free as a service member but I’m not sure how. I will go into way more LinkedIn detail in a moment. I started job hunting in August. It took three months to find a job. It was NOT easy. You need to write a resume. There are countless agencies who will review it for you for free. There is certainly someone in your SFL-TAP staff who will review your resume. Don’t worry- they will broadcast who they are. I’m sure if you reached out now they could send you examples and review your stuff. Get a lot of eyes on it. Friends, parents, those who have transitioned. If you have any friends in HR have them look at it. De-militarize it. You need to be submitting applications every day. I had a goal to apply to at least one job every day and generally applied to 3 or 5 each day. I applied to 200-300 jobs easily. I received rejections from around 100. The others didn’t even bother letting me know. Of those applications I had the most luck if I went to their LinkedIn page and found someone in HR and introduced myself and offered to provide any additional information. I scheduled around 12 interviews and made it to the second round for 4. Was ultimately offered two jobs in the same week at my price point but it took work.

Find recruiters on LinkedIn. Basically you can search for recruiters in your preferred area. Just add them. Add whoever. And send them an email. I did this and probably met with 10-15 recruiters. None of them were able to place me but talking to them was good. They can help you figure out how to present your skill sets and will send you resumes to review/copy and will sometimes review your resume for you. They WANT to place you because that’s what makes them money so don’t feel weird about reaching out to them. Talking to them is also good general interview prep because they ask most of the same questions an interviewing company would ask.

When applying for a specific job read the posting and then incorporate as many of the words they use IN THE FORMAT THEY USE THEM into your resume. They will almost certainly filter your application through a software designed to separate those totally unqualified. For instance, if you hold a project management certification and on your resume you write PMP Certified but in the job description they say “Project management professional certification preferred” then go back to your resume and change PMP to Project Management Professional.

Biggest piece of advice here is Don’t Give Up. It is soul crushing. You will feel panicked and shitty and underqualified. That’s normal from what I hear. Don’t marry yourself to the first job. I’ve heard from professional recruiters that companies are more likely to hire a veteran after he/she has successfully held a civilian job for one year after separation. My advice would be to accept a job that pays you fairly for the security and reassess after a year. There’s absolutely no problem with changing jobs later. LinkedIn Fuck you, LinkedIn. LinkedIn is such bullshit. But civilians are rock fucking hard for it. So get a LinkedIn. Make sure everything is up to date. Have a picture- NOT a military picture. The same boring one everyone has on LinkedIn. You’re wearing a tie. You’re smiling like a goober. Write all the bullshit nonsense about how you’re a trendsetter and a problem solver and an out of the box thinker. Really sell yourself. Make connections. Make as many connections as you can. For some reason you seem more hireable when you have a ton of connections. Find recruiters and add them. Find people who are doing the thing you want to do in the city you want to do it in and add them. Interact with people. It is all a show but just do it because that’s the game and the prize for winning the game is a nice salary and a successful transition. Find all of the companies who typically hire vets if you’re interested in that. Deloitte, Raytheon, Leidos, Lockheed Martin, etc. Most recruiters associated with these organizations put out content regularly that’s aimed at transitioning service members. They will host classes and online information sessions. Attend them. Follow the advice of the recruiters. All advise basically boils down to market yourself, make connections, expand your network, tailor your resume, follow up in a personal way to applications (contacting HR people or recruiters within the company), send out resumes daily, interview well, repeat, repeat, repeat.

Get premium so you can see who looks at your profile. Other Job Hunting Sites/Resources I actually got my job using ZipRecruiter, not LinkedIn. So I would definitely use ZipRecruiter. You can use ClearanceJobs if you have a clearance. You should go to whichever state you want to work in’s website as well because they’ll post local jobs (like working as a project manager for the department of transportation in Kentucky or whatever). I received a few interviews (well, 2) doing this. I think because it is kind of a pain in the ass to apply that way. Look at universities and hospitals in your preferred area. Often the jobs they post don’t make it onto other sites. Follow companies you’d like to work for on LinkedIn. Sometimes organizations will advertise openings that don’t make it to the LinkedIn job search function for some reason. Instead they’ll make a post about an opening and the link will take you directly to their website. Certifications Probably didn’t need this whole section but…get certs. They both matter and they don’t matter. I don’t think my certs really helped me get my job but they certainly didn’t hurt. PMP (as aforementioned) is a big one.

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sergeanttucker · 5 years

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Get her back

Summary: After (Y/N) left because Steve had not done anything for their relationship, Steve was a wreck. Bucky persuaded him to bring her back.

Warning: angst!, SMUT! probably badly written but still, fluff, Harry Potter Spoiler? :D

Word Count: 4665 (It just happened.)

AN - My submission for @imhereforbvcky and @justsomebucky’s Cap2 Challenge. Thanks to you, I finally wrote cap again and it was a lot of fun! Oh, and thanks for hosting this challenge, we all need a lot more Steve and Sam in our lives. My prompt was “That was very un-Captain-America-like behavior.”

This is also the second part to Someday. I’m the weak bitch, remember? Have fun!!

Masterlist

A month. A month had passed since (Y/N) left and she hadn’t come back yet. From Natasha, Steve knew that she had rented a small apartment and that she had a new job in a small bookstore not far from the Avengers Tower. It didn’t surprise him; Steve knew how much she liked to read and it didn’t matter what she had in front of her. From comics to history books, horror stories, romance ... She didn’t care. It has letters? Then be sure that (Y/N) read it.

That was one reason Steve had fallen in love with her in the first place. For hours he had listened to her talk about The Lord of the Rings. He listened and comforted her when she read Harry Potter and cried over the deaths of Sirius Black and Dobby. Again.

Steve always admired her enthusiasm. It always made a smile appear on his face when she excitedly told him about the latest book she read. Or the latest movie she had seen. Or when she made him listen to her new favorite song. She had such a passion for all sorts of things, Steve often had problems keeping up with her. But that was just what made him rea(Y/N)e that she was the right one. And what did he do? He put his work over her and thereby lost her.

Now, a month later, Steve was still sulking. He spent more time exercising, hoping it would make him feel better, but it did not help. The thought that she had left and now no longer belonged to him did not let him sleep. And knowing it was his fault that (Y/N) had left him was not helpful either.

How stupid had he been? How could he just let her go? And why the hell did he treat her that way? Questions he asked himself in every free minute. The worst part was that he could not answer these questions. He did not know why he did it. What he did know was that he had to get her back.

Steve walked down the street, which he knew led to the bookstore. This time (Y/N) did not go next to him, but Bucky. He was worried, not only about Steve but also about (Y/N), and he was the one who convinced him to talk to her, otherwise it would not have happened in the near future.

Before Steve could open the door to the store, Bucky stopped him with one hand on his shoulder. “Steve, I’m your best friend but if you say or do anything stupid, I’ll kick your ass. (Y/N) is the best thing that could have happened to you. Do not make it worse than it already is.” He had a serious expression on his face and squeezed his shoulder before pushing him towards the door. “Now get (Y/N) back. I’ll wait here.”

Steve opened the door and entered. A short melody that sounded as the door slammed shut told the bookstore staff that a new customer had entered the store. He stopped near the door and let his eyes wander. It had changed little since he was here the last time.

It was a small shop that barely had enough space to stow all the books. Shelves of dark wood reaching to the ceiling occupied the most space. Two tables, also of dark wood, stood in the middle of the room, providing a place to read and take notes. Books that did not fit on the shelves piled up in different corners, waiting to be used. A sales counter was placed near the door. All in all, the bookstore was quite dark and smelled of old and used books. And that’s exactly what attracted (Y/N).

As Steve looked around the store, he could see (Y/N) talking to an older man. She showed him various leather-bound books and gave him a charming smile. Steve swallowed the lump he had in his throat when (Y/N)’s eyes fell on him and her smile vanished immediately. (Y/N) clenched her teeth and as she regained her composure; she forced herself to smile so as not to alarm her client. She opened the door for him and when he was gone, she could see Bucky waiting outside. She gave him her best bitch face and Bucky just had an apologetic look on his face as he shrugged.

The door closed with a bang; the tune filling the silence in the room. (Y/N) completely ignored Steve and went to one of the shelves and started stacking different books on a table before sitting down and writing some notes. Steve still had said nothing and just watched her, wondering what he should say.

After a while of silence, (Y/N) spoke first. “Can I help you, Captain Rogers?” (Y/N)’s eyes were still fixed on her notes, her voice sharp. The tone of her voice unsettled Steve, he had never seen her so angry. Well, except the day she left. And of course, he knew that she had every right to be angry; after all, it was all his fault.

Steve nervously rubbed his neck and took a few steps toward her. He stopped right in front of the table where she sat and looked at his feet. “I... I wanted ... I’m sorry.” His voice was low, and he did not dare to look at her. (Y/N) flipped through one book and marked some things before she wrote them down. “Is that all then? I have work to do.”

Steve looked up and ran a hand through his hair, a sigh left his lips. He knew it would not be easy. “(Y/N), I ...” (Y/N) slammed her pen onto the table, making him shut up immediately. “You know what Steve? Sometimes a sorry isn’t enough. And this right here? This is a situation where it isn’t.” Her voice was calm, but Steve could see the hurt in her eyes. Shame bubbled up in his stomach. He did this to her.

“I gave you everything, Steve. Everything. And you threw it away, so forgive me but a sorry is not nearly enough.” The words broke at the end. Tears threatening to fall but she wouldn’t let them. Of course, (Y/N) still loved him, but she needed more than what he gave her.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I know I should not have put my job over you, it’s just ... Everyone expects me to save the world, hunt down criminals and fight against Nazis or aliens and I’ve tried to live up to all these expectations and lost sight of what was really important to me.

I know that’s no excuse and I understand if you do not want to have anything to do with me anymore. “He dropped his gaze to his feet again and waited for the rejection he had already prepared himself for on the way there. No way would she forgive him; he would not if he was her.

But to his surprise, he could see out of the corner of his eye that her facial features softened a little, and her voice had lost its sharp tone. “I know it’s not easy to be Captain America and all that and I understand that. But the way you have acted towards me these last months? That was very un-Captain-America-like behavior.”

“I know, I also know that nothing I say could excuse what I did.

But I love you and I miss you. I really do. Please come back home. Let me make it right. I promise I will have more time for you and will not be away all the time. Please come home.” He begged. Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, begged her to come home.

She did not expect that, but she could see in his eyes that he meant every single word he said. His voice broke slightly in the end and he fidgeted nervously with his hands. He looked desperate and (Y/N) could see he had not slept in a while. That she broke up with him hit him harder than she thought.

“Steve, there’s nothing I’d rather do than go home with you and pretend that nothing happened, but the last months have been hell for me. I can not and do not want to do that anymore. “

The last bit of hope that Steve still possessed shattered like glass. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and nodded. He felt tears forming in his eyes and cleared his throat before answering. “Yeah, I understand. I just want you to know how sorry I am. I’m sorry I interrupted you...” He turned around, his eyes fixed on the floor and walked to the door, his shoulders hanging.

“Steve, wait.” He stopped with the door handle in his hand and turned to look at (Y/N). She took a few steps toward him and stopped directly in front of him.

“I can not pretend that nothing happened, but because I love you, I’ll give you a second chance. I’ll be home at 9PM.” “Really?” Steve’s voice was at least an octave higher than usual, and there was hope and a little confusion in his voice. His eyebrows were raised and, all in all, he looked very puzzled.

“Really.” A small smile spread across her face as she saw the overjoyed expression on Steve’s face. (Y/N) had not seen him so happy for an eternity.

She turned and went back to work, leaving Steve standing there rooted to the spot. His eyes were fixed on her for a few seconds before he opened the door, but before he could leave, he was stopped again by (Y/N)’s voice. “Oh, and Steve? Do not you dare to shave; I quite like the beard. “Although she could not see it, he nodded before leaving the store. Both of them had a huge smile on their face for the rest of the day, and nothing and nobody could drive it away.

Never had (Y/N) longed for the end of a day’s work like this day. Her mind was on Steve all the time and admittedly she was a little nervous. After she finally closed the shop, she immediately made her way to her apartment. She grabbed a bag and stuffed all sorts of things in without really paying attention to what she took with her. On the way out, she locked the front door and sprinted down the stairs, almost tripping over her own feet on the way down.

A little later, she stood at the door of the apartment she shared with Steve until a few weeks ago. Her heart was racing in her chest; she could hardly wait to be reunited with the love of her life. After a deep breath, she fished the key she still had from her jacket pocket and opened the door. The bag fell with a dull bang on the floor.

(Y/N) leaned her back against the closed door and dropped her head back. The apartment she had rented had never felt like a real home. The silly photos, countless pillows and blankets, books, plants, personal items such as the necklace (Y/N) had gotten from Steve, all the little things that made a house a home were still here. When she entered the living room, she saw Steve’s shield lean against the wall and smiled. It felt good to be back home.

While (Y/N) stood in the living room and enjoyed being back home, Steve came out of the bedroom with wet hair and dressed only in a boxer short. When he rea(Y/N)ed that he was not alone, he stopped confused and ran his hand through his hair. His eyes fell on the clock hanging on the wall behind him, it was just 8:30 pm. “Oh hey (Y/N), I ehh... I thought I still have time to get ready. I’ll be right back.” As soon as he arrived, he disappeared back into the bedroom, leaving (Y/N) standing in the living room with a small grin, she shook her head in amusement and wandered around the room a little before going to the kitchen.

She stopped dead in her tracks as she entered the kitchen. Everywhere were pots, pans, and various ingredients were distributed on the kitchen island. Flour and some kind of sauce were spilled, and in the sink stood a pot of indefinable content. Steve had apparently tried to cook, but he failed. “(Y/N)?” His voice echoed through the living room to the kitchen. “I’m in here!”

Steve entered the room and scratched his neck awkwardly, a slight flush rising on his face as he saw the chaos in front of them. “Well, I ... I tried to cook dinner, but ... well, you see how it ended.” (Y/N) chuckled a little and piled some pots at the sink. When she wanted to turn on the water to wash the dishes, Steve grabbed her hand to stop her. “You’re not here to clean up the mess I made. I ordered pizza, let’s eat something. I’ll take care of the kitchen tomorrow.”

He took her hand and led her back into the living room. On the coffee table were two pizza boxes, a six-pack beer, and the Harry Potter Blu-ray collection. (Y/N) smiled softly when she saw all this. “You really want to volunteer to see Harry Potter with me? Brave of you.” Steve chuckled and sat down next to her on the couch, he had already pushed the philosopher’s stone into the player and took the remote control to start the movie.

“Well, what can I say? I love how you quote everything.” A small grin spread across his face as he saw the light red tone on her face. “Here, I ordered your favorite.” He opened one box and pushed it to her. (Y/N)’s mouth was watering with the sight of the still warm pizza. Just like she always ordered. Extra cheese, mushrooms and a lot of garlic. Perfect. Gratefully she accepted her and thanked him again when Steve handed her a beer. That’s how she always wanted to spend her evenings with him and now, finally, they did.

(AN – Stop here If you don’t want to read the smut-part)

After the first movie ended, they immediately started the second one. The pizza boxes were empty on the table. During the first movie, (Y/N) had moved closer to Steve and snuggled up to his side, his arm around her. A satisfied sigh left her lips as he pressed a kiss to her hair. How she had missed that. How she had missed him.

The movie had been running for about an hour, but (Y/N) had been ignoring the screen for a few minutes and was looking at Steve instead. He was still focused on the screen and absently ran his hand through her hair, but after a while he rea(Y/N)ed she was looking at him and fixed his gaze on hers. A gentle smile graced his lips as he looked questioningly at her. “What?” His voice was soft as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

(Y/N) smiled lovingly at him, her eyes falling to his lips for a moment before fixing his eyes again. “Nothing.” She whispered against his lips before gently kissing him. Steve did not move for a second, but as soon as he regained his composure, he returned the kiss and cupped her cheek, holding her to him. This was the first kiss for weeks, maybe months, and it sent electricity through her body.

(Y/N) was not ready to finish the kiss yet and followed Steve as he pulled his head away. She climbed on top of him and sat on his lap, deepening the kiss. Instinctively, Steve put his hands on her waist and pressed her against his body. It went on like this for a while. Kissing and touching, getting used to each other again after such a long time without physical contact.

But soon, it wasn’t enough and (Y/N) started to rock her hips, grinding down against him. A throaty groan escaped Steve, and he grabbed her hips, stopping her movements. He watched her face; her lips were slightly parted, her breath uneven and eyes dilated. “Doll, I...” (Y/N) stopped whatever he wanted to say with a finger to his lips.

“Steve, please. I need you. Don’t let me wait any longer.” She laid her forehead against his and stroked his cheek with her thumb, looking him deep in the eyes as she whispered. His eyes momentarily dropped to her lips as she spoke. He wanted to tell her so many things, things she needed to hear, but for the moment he just nodded and kissed her again, tracing her lower lip with his tongue before pushing it into her mouth. She started grinding against him again, and as Steve grabbed her hips this time, he guided her movements to make them more fluid.

(Y/N)’s hands went to his hair, tugging on it. The groan that rumbled against her lips made her whimper softly. Steve’s hand wandered up her body and under her shirt, feeling the soft, warm skin underneath. The shirt needed to go, so he tugged it up her body and over her head to discard it somewhere on the floor. His eyes drifted over her bra clad chest, his hands followed their movements and he softly cupped her breast into his big hands, kneading them over the annoying piece of cloth. (Y/N) sighed contently and pressed herself against him.

Soft, slightly chapped lips started to kiss a trail down her jaw to her neck and finally to the top of her breasts. Goosebumps raised on her body when he started to suck a mark there, her hips rocking harder against his at the feeling.

Steve withdrew his lips from her body to shed himself of his shirt, her bra following right after. He took a moment to admire the woman on top of him and let his eyes wander over her. How did he even get so lucky in the first place? (Y/N) was beautiful. Her soft skin slightly flushed, her hair tousled and eyes shining. He really was one lucky bastard.

Without warning, Steve got up and still held (Y/N) in his arms. She squeaked startled and slung her legs and arms around him, making him chuckle as he walked them into the bedroom. He dropped her on the bed, her body bounced on the mattress as he crawled over her and trailed kisses over every inch of skin he could reach. Starting at the waistband of her pants, he nipped at her belly-button and kissed over her ribs to the underside of her breast.

(Y/N) arched her back as his tongue circled her nipple before sucking it into his mouth. One of his hands crept up by her side and gripped the neglected breast, kneading it and squeezing her nipple as he bit the other. The breathless moan that reached his ears encouraged him to move his hand down to her pants. Steve opened the button and zipper and slipped his hand inside, rubbing her through her underwear as he switched sides and sucked the other nipple.

(Y/N) let out a shuddering breath when one of Steve’s fingers circled her clit, her hips bucking up on instinct. “Steve please... Don’t tease me...” He let go of her nipple and looked up at her, nodding as he saw the desperation in her eyes. He leaned back up on his knees, pulled his hand from between her legs and hastily took off her pants and panties before he momentarily got up to get rid of his own clothes.

Crawling back onto the bed, he spread her legs so he could get in between them. Steve took a moment to admire the sight in front of him; hair sprawled unruly across the pillow, skin a slightly red hue and breasts heaving with every uneven breath she took. Again, he was one lucky bastard.

She bit her lip at the sight of his at attention standing cock. She would love to lick of the bit of pre-cum that gathered at his tip, tasting the salty essence but she couldn’t wait any longer. She needed him inside of her. Steve seemed to think the same thing. His hands stroked up and down her thighs before he gripped his cock and rubbed it up and down her slit, coating himself in her juices.

She whimpered softly when his tip bumped against her clit, bucking her hips up to try to get more of the so much needed friction but Steve would have none of that. With his free hand, he easily pinned her hips down and chuckled darkly at her needy whimper. Even if he wanted to be inside of her as soon as possible he just couldn’t resist teasing her at least a little.

He bit his lip and watched how she squirmed when he drew circles on her clit with only the tip of his cock. “Steeeve...” She whined and tried to rock against him but with no use. Of course, Steve was stronger than her.

He continued like this, teasing her clit and slipping just the tip of his cock into her, up to the point (Y/N) could feel an orgasm creep up on her. She repeatedly whispered his name, her head was thrown back against the pillow, her eyes screw shut as she clawed at the sheets.

Steve’s own breath got labored as he watched her fall apart in front of him, her lips were red and swollen from how hard she bit them. “Don’t hold back, darling. I want to hear all the sweet sounds you make.”

Her thighs started to tremble and her toes curled. She was close; he could see it. Doubling his efforts, he slipped the tip of his achingly hard cock into her hole and rubbed her clit with his thumb in fast circles, even faster so as her legs around his middle tightened. He leaned down and pressed his mouth against her ear, never stopping his movements.

“Come on, Doll. I know you’re close, don’t hold back. Show me how beautiful you look when you cum.” The breathy whisper was all she needed to be thrown over the edge. She clawed at Steve, raking her nails down his back when he used the exact moment her orgasm shot through her to bottom out with one stroke. (Y/N)’s mouth opened in a silent scream; the sudden feel of fullness overwhelming her senses.

Steve buried his face in the crook of her neck and groaned loudly. The feel of her contracting velvety-soft walls almost too much to bear for the super soldier. When he was sure he wouldn’t blow his load as soon as he started to move, he started to kiss her neck and jaw until he reached her lips. The kiss was slow and short; (Y/N) was still breathing heavily from her orgasm. “You’re so beautiful.” Steve lay his forehead against hers and pecked her lips one more time. “You ready?” (Y/N) just nodded and grabbed his hair to tug him down into another kiss.

Steve pulled out slowly and pushed back in at the same pace. There was no rush in his thrusts nor in his touch as one of his hands stroked every inch of skin he could reach. His other arm lay beside (Y/N)’s head with his hand buried in her hair. His kisses were just as slow as his thrusts and made (Y/N)’s head spin from how soft and loving they were.

He whispered breathy I love you's and I’m sorry's between kisses and cupped her cheek with his hand to make sure she looked at him. “I love you too, Steve.” (Y/N) pulled him in for another kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth to tangle with his.

She started to buck her hips up against his, encouraging him to go just a little faster but Steve had other plans and slowed down even more. “Not tonight. Let me make love to you.” He pressed his forehead against hers and locked eyes with her, entwining their hands. Their bodies were pressed together, her nipples dragging against his chest with every thrust.

It was so intense, so intimate, (Y/N) couldn’t handle all the emotions inside of her. Tears bubbled up in her eyes and a sob found its way out of her throat when Steve, once again, declared his love for her. He was worried for a moment and was about to stop and ask her if everything was ok when she pulled him down for another kiss.

After a while, Steve’s hips stuttered and his thrusts lost its rhythm. He had to stop kissing her. He ran short on breath and several breathy groans fell from his lips; he was close but he wouldn’t cum before (Y/N). His thrusts were still slow, but they were slightly harder and every time he bottomed out he grinded against her, adding friction to her clit. “I want you to look at me when you cum. Can you do that for me?” He sounded wrecked, and it made (Y/N) whimper as she nodded.

(Y/N) was a mess of breathless moans; her thighs started to twitch again. Her second orgasm was just around the corner; they both could feel it; she just needed a little push. “Cum for me.” The whispered words against her lips were enough to push her over. She tightly squeezed his hand and tugged his hair with the other. Her back curled up slightly and pressed her breasts tighter against Steve’s muscular chest as her legs tightened around his waist.

The breathless moan of his name against his lips and the clenching of her walls around his cock were enough to send Steve tumbling over the edge with her as he groaned her name. Their foreheads were still pressed together and their eyes were locked on one another, making their orgasms much more intense.

They stayed like this for a minute or two until they calmed down enough to move. Their breaths were mingling together and noses were touching as they watched each other closely. Steve cupped her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I love you you so much, (Y/N).” His voice was barely above a whisper and their lips were touching when he spoke. A soft smile spread on her face and she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you too.”

Steve smiled and pecked her lips once more before he got up and disappeared into the bathroom. He came back with a wet cloth and crawled back between her legs to clean her up. She winced at the sting but smiled reassuringly at Steve when she saw the worried look on his face. When he had cleaned up himself too, he threw the cloth to the floor and lay down beside (Y/N), tugging her against him before he covered them both with the blanket.

She cuddled up against his side and laid her head on his chest, drawing invisible patterns on his middle while she listened to the beat of his heart. Steve’s hand stroked up and down her back and he kissed her head before he spoke. “(Y/N), I need to tell you someth...”

Like earlier, (Y/N) didn’t let him finish his sentence and pressed a finger to his lips to make him stop. She leaned up and cupped his jaw in her hand, stroking his beard with her thumb before she kissed him lovingly. “Whatever it is, it can wait. We can talk tomorrow.”

Steve nodded and pressed another kiss to her lips before he tugged her back against him.

Before falling asleep, Steve made a mental note to thank Bucky for persuading him to go to the bookstore. He finally had the love of his life back in his arms and he wouldn’t be this stupid ever again.

—————————————————————-

Congratulations, you made it to the end !! I´m new to the writing thing and Feedback is highly appreciated! Oh, and if your eyes are bleeding from the bad grammar, then let me know! I’m from Germany and my English is a little rusty, so please point out the mistakes I made. Oh, and should you have a request, send me an ask!

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #Steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #avengers smut #avengers x reader #captain america smut #cap2challenge #jelly writes

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walkerismychoice · 5 years

Text

For Law and Love - Chapter 14

Book: Desire and Decorum - Modern day AU

Paring: Ernest Sinclaire X MC

Raiting: PG-13

Summary: Anna uses the letters from Ernest to help her get through their month apart and decides to surprise Ernest with letters of her own.

Word Count: 1431

Law and Love Master List - Catch up here

Day 2:

Anna woke up the morning after her birthday and sat up in bed. She immediately looked over to the stack of letters on her nightstand and couldn't wait to open the second one.

Good Morning Anna,

Yes, I said good morning because if I know you, you'll be opening these letters first thing. I hope you had fun celebrating your birthday last night, but also that you aren’t too hungover. I’m picturing the empty space on your bed right now and wishing I was there waking up next to you like it should have been (except if you are at your dad’s house. I know he likes me, but I’m not sure he’d be cool with that). If you didn’t head there last night, I’m sure you’ll see him today for Sunday dinner, so say hi to him for me please if you don’t mind.

With Love,

Ernest

P.S. - I know you think I’m a bit paranoid, but I do still think it’s best we don’t make any attempts at communication via phone or electronics. While I highly doubt anyone is going to scour my phone records to check for evidence of a relationship between us, it is better to be safe than sorry.

Anna laid back on her pillows with a smile. There was the L word again, and it was definitely not a mistake.

Day 3:

Anna groaned as she rolled over and shut off her alarm clock, wanting to keep hitting snooze until the last minute, but then she remembered a new day meant a new letter, and she suddenly felt better about facing the day.

Happy Monday my dear Anna!

I know how you dread Mondays, but I say it’s happy because I’ll get to see you in class today. I’ll try not to get too distracted by the sight of you, but I can’t make any promises. I figure you could put the enclosed gift card to good use for your usual order from Crema Cafe. See you soon!

Love,

Ernest

Anna tucked the gift card into her bag before she headed out the door. While it didn’t completely surprise her, Anna was amazed at Ernest’s attention to detail where she was concerned, knowing that she would most definitely be bringing and extra large coffee to class that day. She grabbed her latte on the way and convinced Annabelle to sit in the second row again behind Luke and Hamid, who were now attending every class due to the change in circumstances.

Ernest scanned the room and found Anna immediately upon his arrival. She held up her coffee cup and a big grin spread across his face. “Thank you” she mouthed subtly and he gave her a nod. Ernest turned out to be an amazing lecturer. She’d never been more attentive in class in her life, and not just because her boyfriend was speaking, though it didn’t hurt.

That night, Anna decided she loved her letters so much, she’d start writing letters to Ernest as well.

Dear Professor Sinclaire (Okay I know you aren't technically a professor but I'm still going to call you that),

I thoroughly enjoyed your lecture today and have never found the topic of business law more interesting. You are a vast improvement over that asshole before you (who shall remain nameless) and you are much more fun to look at too. I know you probably think I'm just saying that because I'm your girlfriend, and you are the most modest guy I know, but you should have heard what the girls behind me in class were saying. Or maybe not because it would probably make you blush, but just know I realize how lucky I am to have you and cannot wait until these 30 days are up.

Love,

Anna

Day 7

My Anna,

One whole week down already. It's Friday which means that not only will I see you in class today, but I will hopefully get to see you at the Legal Aid clinic tomorrow. It's been a full week, and I'm sure to be craving your touch. I know we need to remain discreet and professional, but I'll take whatever I can get. Good luck on the quiz today, but I'm sure you won't need it.

All my love,

Ernest

Mr. Sinclaire,

What was that quiz today? I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of want the old guy back. Just kidding, of course, but that was rough. Good thing I know how you think, so I’m sure I did alright. I would like to mention that your eyes looked stunning today with that blue shirt you were wearing. You should wear that color more often.

I’m so looking forward to seeing you at the clinic tomorrow. Hopefully we can get a little time to sneak away during breaks. I know if Bart has anything to say about it, we will. I think he’s my new best friend.

Love,

Your Anna

Day 8

Good Morning Anna,

I’m sure it will be a good morning because I get to spend the day with you. Even if we don’t get any alone time, just being near you will brighten my day. I know you aren’t otherwise thrilled about getting up so early on a Saturday, so don’t worry about getting up earlier to get coffee on the way. I’ll take care of you.

Love Ernest

As promised, Ernest had Anna's usual coffee order waiting for her when she arrived. It was a really busy day, and they didn't get much time together, but they snuck in little kisses and touches when they could. Ernest ordered food for the two of them and arranged for a picnic style lunch on the floor of the file room for them because it was the only place they could ensure privacy. And of course Bart covered for them and made sure no one needed to access the room during that time. Anna also got the chance to surprise Ernest by giving him the letters she had written throughout the week and she could tell he was truly excited to read them. The day passed all too quickly, but she was thankful for the time they did have.

Dear Ernest,

It was amazing to spend time with you today, not only because I got to talk to you, hold you, and kiss you, but because your passion for helping people is inspiring. Seeing the way you treat all your clients as your equals without judgment shows that you really care, and I know you are going to be the best at whichever type of law you choose. Speaking of kissing you, I'm already about to combust every time you touch me, and when I climbed into your lap during lunch I could feel how wound up you are too. I can hardly imagine what it's going to be like st the end of these 30 days, but I can't wait to find out.

Thinking about you always,

Anna

Day 20

Anna, My Love,

Only ten more days until I get to hold you in my arms once and for all and never let go. I assume by this point I’m getting desperate for you, and have become well acquainted with my right hand. I envision myself closing my eyes and imagining it’s you wrapped around me instead, wondering if you’re in bed doing the same as me. Just thinking about it now already has me aching for you.

Love, hugs, and kisses,

Ernest

Oh Ernest,

You don’t even know how bad I want you right now, and your letter from today only made it worse. You are correct that I’ve spent many nights touching myself as I think about you. I’ve also purchased a couple new toys to help get me through, and I’m looking forward to trying them out with you too. We’ve already made it two thirds of the way there, let’s hope this last third flies by.

With Love,

Anna

Day 30

My Favorite Girl, Anna,

We’ve made it! The day is finally here! I hope you haven’t made any plans for the next few days, because I’m taking you back to my place and we’re not leaving my bed until it’s absolutely necessary. I want to see you as soon as possible, so meet me at my office at 5pm. I will have all the grades for the class submitted and then we will be free - no longer student and teacher, just Ernest and Anna.

Can’t wait to see you my Love,

Ernest

#playchoices fanfic #desire and decorum #mc X ernest sinclaire #Mr. Sinclaire #my fic #for law and love

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 5 years

Text

Queen of Hearts - Chapter 2

Thirty-year-old Rose Tyler’s matchmaking business is doing very well indeed, bringing her clients such as celebrities, athletes, and the now-happily-married son of the mayor. All of which brings her to her newest client - one whose royal rank is a far cry above her own title as Queen of Hearts.

Ian, King of Gallifrey, calls off his wedding four weeks before the happy day as he realizes he can’t spend another minute of his life with his betrothed. The catch - he must take a wife before his Coronation, only a month away. In desperation, his sister and aunt conspire to find him is happy ever after - and it’s going to take a master matchmaker to do it.

Based on the Hallmark Movie ‘Royal Matchmaker’. Chapters will be posted every Sunday.

As always, beta’d by the wonderful @stupidsatsuma! @doctorroseprompts

Masterlist | AO3

---

Monday, April 1st (continued)

“Is this legit?” Rose asked under her breath, smiling brightly. “I mean, it’s April Fools.”

Mel nodded, curls bouncing. “Totally,” she whispered back, before kicking Rose’s leg. “Rude.”

“Uh, hello, Your Highness,” Rose greeted the Princess, feeling out of her depth if this wasn’t a prank. She’d had celebrities and politicians as clients, some fairly recognizable names, but royalty? She folded her hands tightly to help stop the sudden trembling. It’s just like any other potential client interview. Keep it together.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Princess Donna said regally, and Rose swallowed her nerves.

“And you, such as it is. How may I help you?” Off to the side Mel waved to catch her eye, holding up a post-it reading Ma’am. “Ma’am,” she dutifully added, forcing her smile brighter.

The Princess gazed at her speculatively, clearly evaluating Rose as Rose was her. “My brother the King is in… a bit of a situation. He must find a bride and marry her on or before his coronation, or he will have to forfeit the throne to me, something my husband and I want under no circumstances.”

“And how can I help?” The post-it waved off to the side, and Rose bit back a sigh. “Ma’am?”

“I’ve heard you’re a miracle worker, and what we need is certainly that. My brother must take a wife in the next four weeks, and she must be of the highest caliber with the potential, ability, and willingness to bear children – otherwise we’re simply delaying my own coronation, and I’d prefer to avoid it at all costs.”

Rose blinked, waiting for the 'gotcha!’, but none came. “I see,” she said, even though she didn’t. “May I ask- Normally I deal directly with the client?” she trailed off expectantly.

The Princess nodded, looking serious. “I understand. But I had to speak with you first. I want my brother to find happiness and love of course, but I also need him to find a wife. I won’t lie, it’s a heavy undertaking, but you come highly recommended. If you can pull this off, you may name your price.”

And if I don’t, then my life and reputation are in shambles. I’ll have to move back in with Mum! “Can you give us a moment to confer, please, Ma’am?”

Rose’s tense smile lasted just long enough for her to mute the audio and kill the video, double checking the Princess couldn’t hear before she turned on her assistant. “What did you do?!”

“Nothing!” Mel protested, holding up her hands in peace. “I just answered the phone! This woman, Sarah Jane, said she might be looking to hire us – sort of – but it was complicated and delicate. Next thing I know, I’m Skyping a Princess!”

“I can’t do this,” Rose said bluntly. “There’s too much riding on it. If I fail, we’re done. And how do we pull this off in four weeks?!”

Mel smiled sympathetically. “I’m not sure turning down the chance to work with royalty will be much better. We just… have to do it.”

She was right, and they both knew it, but Rose wasn’t quite ready to admit it. “What do we do?”

“We put on a brave smile, trust the process, and go be the guests of royalty in an actual palace for the next four weeks!”

“It’s not that easy,” she hissed. “We’ve never had that quick of a turnaround before!”

Mel rolled her eyes, leaning over her to do a quick Google search. “Look at this.”

Within seconds a picture of a beautiful medieval castle filled her screen, like something out of her little girl princess fantasies. “That’s not fair!”

“You’re keeping the Princess waiting.” Before Rose could argue, she reconnected with the impatient-looking redhead. “So sorry for the delay Your Highness.”

“Well?” the woman demanded, arching an eyebrow. “Should I book you plane tickets?”

Rose took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “Yes, we would be... delighted to help.”

“Sarah Jane will call back with the arrangements within the hour. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

Wonderful.

Donna disconnected the call with a satisfied grin, glancing over at Sarah Jane who hovered just out of view. “What did you think?”

“I like her,” Sarah Jane said decisively, nodding. “Oh, yes. From what I’ve heard, if anyone can find the perfect Queen it’s her.”

“Even for Ian?”

“Even for Ian,” she laughed.

Donna sighed, leaning back in her chair and staring up at the ceiling. “God I hope so. She’s our last hope. He said he’d figure it out, but he’s perfectly happy to abdicate and go back to playing doctor. More than- we both know he’d prefer it.”

“He knows his duty,” Sarah Jane shook her head. “He’ll come through – kicking and screaming. He loves Gallifrey too much, regardless of what he says.”

The door to Donna’s office burst open, Ian striding in without consideration. “What’s going on in here?”

Donna stood, smoothing her skirt as she met her brother’s eye head on. “Trying to find you a queen.”

He grimaced, bracing himself on the back of a visitor’s chair on the other side of her desk. “Oh, goody. I hate to interrupt that, but I have a country to run. I need Sarah.”

“Of course, Your Majesty, my apologies.” Sarah Jane curtseyed, deeper than strictly necessary. “I believe the Education Secretary is due soon for an audience.”

Ian nodded sharply, turning towards the door. “Donna, don’t do anything stupid or I’ll abdicate just to spite you.”

Donna made a face at his back, waving goodbye to Sarah Jane as she hurried out after Ian, closing the door behind her. Sinking back into her chair, she pulled up the Bad Wolf Matchmakers website again, clicking to the bio for Ms. Rose Tyler.

I need a miracle. Can you pull it off?

Tuesday, April 2nd

Rose flipped anxiously through her book as they made their way through the Gallifrey train station, two porters trailing behind with their luggage. “Why are there so many rules for working with royals?” she fretted, a tightness in her chest that had settled there after the call with the Princess the day before and had yet to budge.

“Because they’re royal? It’ll all be fine!”

Rolling her eyes, Rose handed the book to Mel. “You’re too optimistic. Right, quiz me again?”

“Name and title?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “His Majesty King Ian of Gallifrey. Forty-five years old, never married, came to the throne last spring. Must marry before his coronation, must be coronated by the first anniversary of his accession. Give me something difficult.”

“What degree does he have?”

“Doctor of medicine. Has mainly worked overseas, Africa, that sort of thing.” They wound their way through the station as Mel peppered her with questions.

“Favorite things to do?”

“Travel the world, practice medicine, play the guitar?”

“Why hasn’t he ever married?”

Rose bit her lip at that as they reached the parking lot. “Self-proclaimed bachelor. That’s all I know. Ooh! That’s us,” Rose added, spotting a driver holding a sign reading Rose Tyler.

They giggled as they climbed into the town car decorated with state flags, oohing and aahing on the drive to the castle. It was only fifteen minutes door to door, but they had gorgeous views of the Alps and forest on the way. The kingdom of Gallifrey, or so Wikipedia had claimed, was a micro-nation nestled between France and Switzerland. A constitutional monarchy, the family line stretched back nearly a thousand years. By virtue of their size and proximity to Switzerland they had managed to avoid getting dragged into any of the major conflicts of the last century, remaining neutral and nearly forgotten.

The scenery itself was gorgeous, the first hints of spring budding on the trees even as snow clung to the mountaintops in the distance. Rose considered herself a city girl through and through, having never lived anywhere but London, but this… I could get used to views like this.

The palace appeared out of nowhere around a bend in the road, perched high up on a hill and making both women gasp in delight. It was stunning, well maintained, and enormous.

“Rose,” Mel breathed, tapping her arm, and she faced forward again only to gasp.

“Oh my God.” They stared up at the courtyard as the car came to a stop, the driver opening the door for them. It looked like a traditional medieval castle, built with clean-cut gray stone. Every doorway in sight was arched, with several turrets and towers reaching towards the sky, and it reminded Rose of her favorite architectural features of Windsor Castle at home. “This is beautiful.” The word didn’t do it justice, but it was all she had as she stepped out.

“Hello,” a voice chirped, and she spotted a boy standing in the nearest doorway. He was dressed fairly formally, in black slacks and a blazer, but had an open and friendly face. Early teens, he was still all gangly limbs but would clearly be tall.

“Hello,” Rose smiled, trying to take in the view while not being rude. “How are you?”

“Well, ma’am, thank you.”

A woman hurried out of the door behind him them, gently moving him to the side. “Luke! Don’t badger them already,” she scolded, approaching Rose. “Sorry, my son Luke. I’m Sarah Jane Smith, His Majesty’s personal assistant. I believe we spoke on the phone?” She directed the last bit towards Mel, who had joined Rose on the near side of the car.

“Yes, Melanie Bush,” she introduced herself, shaking her hand. “This is Rose Tyler. It’s lovely to meet you in person.”

“You as well,” the woman gushed, shaking Rose’s hand as well. “We’re thrilled you’re here. Please, come with me.”

They followed her into the palace, her son trailing behind only to break off after a minute, disappearing down a corridor.

“How long have you known the King?” Rose asked as they made their way through the halls. She tried to keep track of the twists and turns, but was hopelessly lost after the third.

“All his life,” she smiled over her shoulder. “His mother was my sister, actually. I worked as an investigative reporter, but after I adopted my son about ten years ago I retired from that – I didn’t want to be away from him so much. She convinced me – begged, really – to come keep Ian- His Majesty- in line. I manage his day-to-day; the schedule, who sees him, who doesn’t. I’m the gatekeeper, especially off the palace grounds. In return Luke and I live here, spending time with family. It might be somewhat unconventional, but it works for us.”

“That’s really sweet,” she smiled, though her stomach clenched at what wasn’t said. Is he really that difficult, you can’t find an assistant? What have we gotten ourselves into?

They stopped at a set of tall double doors, Sarah Jane turning with a smile. “This is you – a suite normally reserved for visiting dignitaries or royals. It’s far closer to the King’s quarters, giving you better access. Hopefully it will suit your needs.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Rose promised, then the doors swung open and her heart stopped. “Oh my.”

She entered the ‘room’ in a daze, mouth falling open as she took in the space. It was the height of two stories, pristine white walls with gold crown molding. The furniture was delicate and sparse, exactly what she’d expect in a royal palace, with a sturdy wooden desk situated at the far end of the room by the windows. Two windows covered most of the outside wall, letting in plenty of sun. They reached from waist-high to just below the ceiling, and were simply breathtaking. In all, everything she had seen so far was what she imagined castles looking like as a child.

“This will do,” she said faintly, making Sarah Jane laugh.

“Excellent. There is a bedroom on either side of this room, and I’ll give you a few moments to freshen up before your trip. His Majesty has fifteen free minutes soon, and I would like to introduce you to himself and the Princess Royal.”

Rose nodded, heading for one of the doors leading out of the room. Stepping inside she found a bedroom similarly decorated to the first room, with a four-poster bed littered with fluffy pillows. “Is this heaven?”

“It certainly seems it,” Mel said, amused, peering in over her shoulder. “D’you want this one? Either is fine, I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Still in a daze, she meandered towards the en suite. It was elegant, if a bit old-fashioned, but she didn’t care – she was in love. Taking a minute to freshen up, she was just checking her teeth in the mirror when Mel knocked on the door. “Yeah?”

“Sarah Jane is back, she’d like to take you to meet the Princess then the King.”

“Thank you.” Smoothing her hair one last time and refreshing her lipstick, she met Sarah Jane in the main room.

“Ready?” The woman asked kindly, and Rose pasted on her brightest smile.

“Of course! I’m so excited to get started.”

“Excellent.” Sarah Jane guided her out into the hall, leading her towards the right. “Once I leave you with the Princess I will work with Mel to get everything you need arranged. As my duties are to tend to the King, one of my staff has been assigned to you. Bill will see to anything you need; you only have to ask and she’ll arrange it. She will also serve as your chauffeur should you need to leave the castle.”

Rose rubbed her hands on her thighs as they neared the most imposing set of double doors yet, knowing she was moments away from meeting royalty. “That’s very generous, thank you.”

“Miss Tyler- may I call you Rose?”

“Of course.”

“Rose, I just want to take a moment to reiterate the importance of your presence here. The future of our country depends on you. But more importantly, my nephew’s happiness does. I believe with the right bride he could happily face a lifetime of being king, but at the moment… Donna, the Princess Royal and his current heir, does what she can to step into the ceremonial duties of Queen, but that’s not sustainable. It is critical that we find him the right woman. I won’t lie and say it will be easy, but you will have everything you require.”

Swallowing harshly, she did her best to meet Sarah Jane’s gaze head on. “I understand, and will do everything in my power to help.”

Nodding sharply, Sarah Jane opened the door. “Miss Tyler, Your Highness.”

Rose walked in with her head held high, heading towards the redhead she’d Skyped with just yesterday. “Good morning, Your Highness.” Curtseying slightly, she noted the approving tick upwards of the woman’s lips before they settled into a firm line again.

“Thank you, Sarah,” the Princess directed at her aunt, who nodded and closed the door, leaving them alone. “Thank you, Miss Tyler, for your haste in arriving. I fear you may have your work cut out for you, and there is no time to squander.”

“I’m happy to be here, Your Highness,” she said politely, waiting until the princess gestured to sit.

“Please, help yourself to some tea,” she invited, and Rose did so, carefully pouring herself a cuppa.

“Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a moment, sipping at their teacups, Rose waiting for the princess to speak. She, naturally, didn’t have much of a daily interaction with royalty, though Princess Diana had visited her primary school when she was young. Still, she knew enough and rubbed elbows with enough high-profile people through her work to know to follow the other woman’s lead.

While she waited, she stared around the room in awe. Everything was done in white and gold, from the carpets to the furniture to the walls. Archways were everywhere, a vaulted ceiling over head, from which hung a magnificent chandelier. It was the picture of luxury, and exactly what she would expect a royal palace to look like.

“Do you have any questions?” the princess finally offered, and Rose jumped at the chance.

“Yes. If I may, why has he not taken a wife before now?”

The princess sighed heavily. “May I be frank?”

“Of course. The more I know about him, his life, his preferences and personality and likes and dislikes, the better I’ll be able to narrow down the candidates. There is no time to dance around it, honestly.”

She lowered her teacup to her lap, fiddling with the handle as she stared down. “Ian… has always been his own man. He knows his own mind, and his greatest goal has always been to help people – that’s why he went to medical school. His view on the crown is that he would have to give up that dream; to me, it’s just implementing it differently. He may not be checking vitals, but it’s his responsibility to steer this ship still, and produce an heir to inherit from him. His patient is no longer a person, but rather a country.”

“And if he doesn’t…”

“Then it will come to me, or my children if I’m gone. We- my husband and I- don’t want that. I prefer working behind the scenes, going unnoticed. As it stands I am acting as consort for my brother, and it’s bloody exhausting. I’d rather help shape policy as needed and be home with my kids for dinner and homework.”

“You don’t live in the palace?”

The Princess smiled. “Technically. We have a house on the grounds, closer to the lake – it’s still part of the palace, but we have more freedom and room there. We wanted to give them as normal an upbringing as possible.”

Rose opened her mouth to respond, when the doors to the room swung open and a man stalked inside.

“Donna, what are you up to now?” he demanded, and Rose took her first proper look at him. For being only in his mid-forties his hair was gray going white, his features sharp and intimidating. “Who’re you?”

“Rose Tyler, Your Majesty,” she stood hurriedly, curtseying. “The matchmaker.”

His expression, if possible, grew stormier as he went still, eyes narrowing at his sister. “What. Did. You. Do?”

The princess held fast in the face of his anger, standing as well and smoothing her skirt. “I told you I wouldn’t stand idly by. Now, play nice – she’s here to help. Miss Tyler, my brother King Ian. Ian, Rose Tyler. I’ll leave you two to it, then.”

And she swept out of the room without a backwards glance, leaving Rose alone in the room with the furious king.

“Um, hello,” she smiled nervously, eyes wide at his irate expression. “You have a beautiful palace?”

It was official – she was in trouble. Damn you, Mel!

#bbatcfic #doctorroseprompts #ficandchips #Doctor Who #12xRose #12th Doctor #Rose Tyler #AU #Queen of Hearts #royalty AU

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uschi-the-listener · 5 years

Text

Why I Live in the Desert

...or, And So, It's Come to This...

I live in the Desert not far from Palm Springs. Parts of it are very pretty, and in winter, it's almost bearable. Most of the year, though, the water coming from the cold water tap is hotter than what comes from the hot water tap. People wear hats from necessity. A broken air conditioner is considered an emergency and landlords can be fined and/or jailed for not having it fixed or replaced within a very short time. The sun is a blistering presence. People run outside and dance if it rains, and it goes for many months, sometimes years, without raining. Dogs can't walk on the sidewalk and you can get serious burns if you bump up against a black vehicle with your bare skin. Rubber-soled shoes and bicycle tires can melt. Water is rationed. Lawns are brown and prickly. The local wildlife is scowling, aggressive, often venomous, and will eat your cat if you leave it outside at night. People born here are insular, leathery, and terse.

Why on earth anyone else lives here is a mystery to me. I know why I'm here and it's a long story. Not a shaggy-dog one, however, because a shaggy dog would die of heat stroke. It starts with a very bad job.

I was working the night shift for a televangelist, reading Prayer Requests and helping bilk the poor and stupid. I couldn't take much more and some of my comments and attitudes were making me unpopular with the boss, a millionaire, but a very small fish in the pond of TV preachers. I was newly married and my husband's business was starting to pay us a living wage, so he suggested I quit and take some time off. Before this, I had been supporting us with a series of bad jobs. My first degree was a Bachelor of Arts degree in English, which does not come with a line of employers waiting to hire the newly graduated. So working at the televangelist's night after night was at least sitting down. But otherwise repulsive.

So I quit. There still weren't many jobs in the area for English majors; we are educated and know how to read and write, do research and punctuate, but that's a rarefied atmosphere in today's job market, and apparently you have to know somebody to scale those heights. I didn't. I still don't.

After playing around, developing social media accounts and wasting a considerable amount of time, and helping with my husband's paperwork, I was ready for something else. He suggested I go back to school. There were a few things I'd always wanted to do, and they required advanced degrees. I knew I couldn't go on doing a very busy but somewhat unsatisfying version of Nothing Much, so I did. I went back for my master's degree. I achieved it, and started looking around.

I had been out of school for a little while, not finding work for interns in my field, but having a lot of enthusiasm for it. It was beginning to look like I'd be back to helping with paperwork and playing around online when my husband started experiencing terrible indigestion. He still loved food and ate well at every meal but his stomach felt bad and looked bad and all the Alka-Seltzer in the world was beginning to not make any difference. So, being a Veteran, he booked a quick appointment at the VA hospital for a check-up. He had been going regularly for blood pressure issues, but as nothing had ever seemed out of place, he was left to wonder about his stomach.

We went together. It was the Friday before Thanksgiving in 2014. The doctor asked him some questions, did a CAT scan, and scheduled an MRI immediately after seeing the results. The diagnosis was pancreatic cancer, Stage 4, that had begun to metastasize into his liver, his stomach, his bones, and a few other places. There had been no indication of any kind until he stopped being able to digest his food. It was inoperable. They were going to treat it with chemotherapy and get him hooked up to a feeding tube that bypassed his stomach. We held each other and cried.

I learned how to take care of him, but more was necessary. It was urgent, now that the main breadwinner in the family was no longer able to either win bread or eat it. He was able to get some social security disability money, but it was barely even enough to cover our rent, so it was imperative that I find something. Something that could support us both, as an intern.

He was a piano tuner/technician and covered the counties of Riverside, Los Angeles, San Bernardino, Orange, a little San Diego, and Ventura now and then. He had loyal clients all over Southern California. He was very good at his job, with over 40 years of experience, a sunny disposition, and realistic rates. He tuned for individuals as well as institutions and was friendly with all his customers. If he didn't like somebody, he passed them on to another tuner. There aren't enough tuners for the number of pianos in the country, so it's easy enough to pick and choose among customers. So he called in favors with people he knew who were even remotely related to my field.

He only found one job opening, which was in the desert, not far from where I'm living now. We lived two hours away at that time, but we had a reasonably good car and I was eager to work at what I'd been learning. So I interviewed and took it. It was a pretty good job; I was eventually promoted, and survived the commute, the invalid care when I came home, and was grateful.

And then he died.

He died at the very end of the month. He had been diagnosed at the end of November and by the end of August, he was dead. The check we had been counting on for the rent from SSDI was taken back and I was left with nothing. Devastated. At one swoop, I had lost my best friend and all my security. Credit was already all maxed out. I appealed to friends for loans of rent money, and my employer, a saint, asked people to pool their earned days off so I would have paid time to complete a move.

It took a little while, but eventually somebody at work found an apartment that needed to be sub-let as the current resident had to leave the country. I suspected some kind of shady dealings, because I was left with a couple of shabby recliners, a very nice queen-size bed, and 5 huge old-style television sets. I asked no questions, was told no lies, and signed the lease. My son helped me move over the course of a weekend. It was not fun or good and my pets were pretty unhappy about it as well. I was grieving and barely able to function, though I went right back to work almost immediately.

This was in Autumn, shortly after the Hot Season, heading into the Not As Hot Season. It's been nearly 4 years since the move. I've weathered 130 degrees Fahrenheit and scorpions, vinegaroons, coyotes, and snakes. Lost jobs, lost friends, and loneliness. I've lived alone all this time, with only my little dog for company. I've worked at several jobs here in my chosen field in various capacities. Currently, I'm out of work, applying for jobs, not finding anything suitable, as the economy, at least for poor and middle class people, gradually sinks deeper into the toilet. So I'm back to playing around with my online friends and writing.

That's how it happened. Feel free to comment or just hit the Like button. I'm easily pleased. Send Nudes. I like dick pics. And Asks.

#California desert

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alitheamateur · 5 years

Text

The Grind-Chapter 15

He escorted me through the tinted glass doors into the predicted booming music filled bar room, people packed from wall to wall, over to a tall tabletop nestled in the corner. Very gentlemanly, he pulled out the empty chair to offer my seat.

“Alright, Liv Elliott, can I get you a drink? What’s your poison?”

“Thanks, uh, I’ll just have a beer, please.” I answered, quivering with slight nerves. He maneuvered his way through the crowd headed in the direction of the bartender, while I waited fretfully alone with my thoughts. He seemed to be nice enough, and clearly easy on the eyes, so much so that my agonizingly neglected sex life was taxing me towards the direction of just sleeping with the man tonight for the hopeful intent of an orgasm. But, he wasn’t my Colton. My emotionally confused, tormented, asshole Colton.

Snap out of it, woman. The guy dumped you. Very cruelly so. MOVE ON.

Drinks in tow, Luke two-stepped and squeezed through the crowd, making his way back to me.

“A beer for the lady,” he served with a wink. But it wasn’t the same wink that so long ago made me weak. It wasn’t like.. don’t say it, you pathetic fool. “You look stunning in the neon lights, you know?”

Dear God, please be joking with that line, man. He let loose a smothered laugh. Sweet relief. He wasn’t serious.

“Thanks, I think?” I accepted the cheesy, sarcastic compliment. “Tia mentioned you were a personal trainer. That must keep you pretty busy.”

“I do my fair share of push-ups, I guess, yeah. But I enjoy it, honestly. Especially when my clients see the results their looking for. It’ all worth it then, ya’ know?” Okay Luke, so you’re kind, and not a total airheaded muscle bag. Noted.

“Yeah, I’m sure the downtown housewives have a fit over you, huh?” I winked. “Ha ha ha, very funny. I’ll have you know I have several house dads on my clientele list as well, thank you.” He chimed matter of factly. “But, enough of me for now. I need to hear all about the glamourous, successful, posh life of the rising journalist, Liv Elliott.”

Wow. What load of shit had Tia been feeding this poor fellow? “Not much to know, sadly. I’m a bit of a workaholic these days. I was recently promoted at the newspaper I work for, which has definitely added to my work load.” I tapped my index finger on the dampened bar napkin beneath my sweating brown bottle. It did sound a bit tragic when I heard myself say it aloud. I was a soon to be 23 year old single woman, living in a bumbling metropolis, no children, no heavy responsibility other than a steady job which most of the time felt more like a paying hobby than an actual career, and I spent the vast majority of my life tucked away at my desk, or in my lonesome apartment with my nose tucked into my computer. Aside from the occurrences when Tia would suggest dinner, or the occasional appearance at a newly opened nightclub, which I was strangely enough beginning to enjoy a bit.

“Nothing wrong with dedication in my book! I admire that you take what you do seriously. And the fact that you’re a complete knockout just adds to the allure.” Luke said with eyes zeroed into my own. Swallowing the last swig of my drink, a pang of guilt flinched in my belly. I was genuinely enjoying the banter of small talk the evening had consisted of thus far, but the feelings didn’t go much deeper than that. Not to say necessarily I wanted to be there with Colton instead, because every ounce of remaining conscience within me advised otherwise. I felt it wasn’t wise to be out without anyone yet, considering the state I was in. After returning from the short visit back to Indiana, sure my emotional state was frequenting more on the border of happiness, and almost contentment rather than the doom & gloom of before. But, I was far, far from ready to dive into the dating pool again. The proven dangerous, unruly, painful dating pool. My heart not quite nursed back to it’s original state, and ready to open up to the next Pittsburgh man. Regardless of how purely genuine and handsome that man may be. Luke didn’t deserve to be trampled on, and strung about by an unstable mess of a woman living in a never-ending state of confusion.

“Oh gosh, Luke. Thank you, really.” I tucked a curled strand of hair behind my reddening ear. “Can I be super honest with you right now? At the risk of sounding like a total heartless wench…”

His look narrowed behind stringy eyelashes, and he leaned in. “Uh, sure? Yeah. Shoot.”

Flashes of what I imagined would’ve likely been a stable, routine, safe and steady relationship with the confused man across from me sparked through my thoughts. All the attributes any sane woman would hunt out in a partner, yet all the things to me that seemed, dull and tedious.

“You have been nothing short of a total charmer since our introduction tonight. And I-” I began before Luke interjected with a cautious smile, and knowing nod.

“Ohhhh, I think I know where this is headed.”

“Any woman, I mean literally any woman, including my clearly stupid self, would be lucky to be in your company. Which is why, I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror again if I carried this far enough to let you get hurt.” My saliva thick with nerves and what I hoped wasn’t regret as I let my date down as easily, and earnestly as I knew how. “You have no idea how bad I sincerely wish I could slap the ignorant decision I’m about to make right out of me… But, I’m just not ready, ya’ know? I’m kind of a pile of wreckage at the moment, and you don’t deserve to have to glue it all back together.”

He bobbed his head lazily and relaxed back into his chair. “As much as I don’t like it, I understand it. Tia kinda informed me that you were still reeling a little from your last relationship. But, since you were honest, can I be the same with you?” He asked politely.

“God, of course. Please!”

He pursed his mouth seriously before beginning. “The loser who did whatever he did to screw you over so badly, is a mindless asshole, who is apparently blind as well. I’ve spent all of a couple hours with you Liv, and even I can see what kind of woman you are. So, don’t sell yourself short, okay? Whether you give him another chance, or someone else who comes along, make sure he deserves you. And hell, by the way Tia talked you up, she might make her own play at you before it’s over.” I laughed at his response, especially his dig at my proud bi-sexual friend, who never hesitated to playfully suggest I take a walk with her on the other side of the sexuality fence.

As the conversation came to a close, Luke took my hand into his, and ushered me kindly to my car outside. I kissed him tenderly on the cheek before he reached down to open the handle of my door.

“If you think it’ll keep Tia off your back, I could always tell her our night ended at your place with hours of relentless love making, if you want.” I puckered my mouth in sincere contemplation of his suggested lie, but considered it be best for both our reputations if we kept it honest.

“As tempting as that little strategy of yours sounds, I think I better just suck it up and take the scolding from her. But thanks for lookin’ out for me.” A thoughtful smile slid onto his lips as he closed to door after I slid into the seat, before he jogged carefully across the crosswalk.

Following my date with Luke the night before, Tia had texted begging to meet up for brunch at a place closely located between the center of our apartments. I groaned at the backlash I’d no doubt have to suffer at her hand after I spilled the details of how things had played out with her set up. She’d arrived at the restaurant before me, and was seated at an umbrella covered, mosaic table on the front patio, already sipping leisurely on a mimosa. When she saw me approaching, she raised her hands to a cheerful clap, obvious that she hadn’t spoken to Luke yet. Or maybe, talking to Luke was exactly why she was so unreserved with her merriment towards me. Had he decided to go ahead with his salacious fictional story about what had happened a few hours ago between us?

“I ordered you a drink. Now sit, and spill, LC!” She’d decided that would be her given name for me, given my middle name was Caroline.

“Hello to you, Miss Nosey. Whatever happened to not kissing and telling?” I was giving it my all to avoid crashing her excitement.

“Don’t you dare! I need to hear everything!” She gasped with an exasperated eye roll.

When the waitress came back to our table, delivering my fluted glass and jotting down our order, I was thankful for the 3 extra minutes I had that allowed to me to escape her insistent questioning.

“Alright, but when I start talking, you have to swear you won’t interrupt. Just let me say my piece, okay?” I arched a pinky at her in expecting hers to return in a swear.

“I already don’t like what I’m hearing, ma’am….” She sighed between sips.

“He’s like, beautiful. Like Tom Cruise in Top Gun kind of beautiful. And he was so damn polite, Tia. The perfect gentleman. But, not in a stuffy way, ya’ know?”

“Yes, Liv. I do know. Which is exactly why I wanted you to go out with him to begin with. Go on…” She cocked an obvious displeased brow at me.

“And trust me 100% when I tell you that after I spent some time with him, I really, really tried, Tia. I wanted something to spark, I wanted to feel that little flutter in my belly around him,” I stressed in a contrite tone. “And I know if it had been any other normal, remotely rational female, that it would’ve happened that way…” Before I finished my plea, I downed the hefty remains of my mimosa hoping for an extra ounce of liquid courage. “I’m just n… not ready, I don’t think. I mean, I feel a million pounds lighter than I did 6 months ago, definitely. But, I don’t feel quite ready to move forward with dating anyone just yet.” I ended my thought, hoping there was a sliver of her that would understand where I was coming from. “Do you hate me?”

She huffed dramatically. “Oh fuck, Liv. Stop it! You know I don’t hate you. Its your life, and I’d never encourage you to do something you don’t feel up to. And, just because I know you’re driving yourself crazy with it, I just want you to know its okay to still love him. Colton, I mean.” I halted any movement as her words registered to me. Breathing included. “I know you despise him for what he did, and rightfully so. The shithead deserves it. But, it’s okay to love him, too. Don’t beat yourself up over that. Love is this stupid, weird, jolting roller-coaster that makes no sense. And whoever you strap into that seat with, whether it be Luke, or Colton, or some rando you haven’t even met yet, it’ll be right. You’re smart, LC. Trust yourself. And if you happen to strap in with someone who turns out to be a vicious psychopath, then I’ll be in the seat right behind you to throw the dude over the side, alright?”

The girl was a God send. I was so unbelievably thankful for my dangerously loyal friend. Something that now made my life somewhat whole. Almost as whole as the veggie omelet I inhaled, after a side order of cheese grits, of course.

“You’re the best. Like, the best of the best, you know that?” I complemented.

She shrugged daftly, smearing cream cheese heavily over her blueberry bagel. “You don’t deserve me, Elliott. What are your plans today?”

I hadn’t thought much about an agenda for today past the brunch with Tia, but I’m sure it’d consist of something along the lines of a yoga session in the living room, maybe a little research for the next match I had to cover, and lastly spending way too much time pruning in a bubble bath.

“Nothing as of yet. Where are you headed? Work today?” I supposed.

“No, I actually have the day off so I’m gonna head over to the Temple for an extra workout.” Tia was referring to Temple Fitness, the gym close by where she was a member.

“Do you have anything coming up? Like, fights, I mean?” She was still striving to get her feet wet in the world of fighting, so competitors weren’t exactly banging her door down with opportunities.

“Not yet, damn it. But my trainer keeps me in shape at all times, just in case something comes along,” she informed me.

Then, a strange glimmer lit inside her blue irises. “As a matter of fact, why don’t you come down with me? When’s the last time you put a workout in, you delicate little pansy?”

As much as I didn’t appreciate her brutal sarcasm, she was actually right. Not to discredit the wonders of hot yoga, but I hadn’t actually had my heart rate elevated in, well, nearly a year. With Colt out of the picture, I’d lost my running partner. Who was also my bedroom partner, which had been my definite first choice in the cardio department.

“Hey, I resent that remark, thank you very much! No matter how accurate it may be. I’d just be in the way though, Tia. You’re training, and I’d just be, standing around.” I laughed off her suggestion.

“There’s plenty of equipment, you bimbo. Ellipticals, treadmills, a pool. Plenty of things to keep you busy, and get your saggy little tush in shape,” Tia winked. “Or, the fancy MMA columnist could maybe do a little training herself to see what a day in the life of her subject is really like.”

I was instantly intrigued at the bold proposal. I’d gotten to sit the sidelines on everything Colton underwent in the days leading up to his match, but nothing remotely close to suffering it firsthand. We’d learned in school that there was no better way to “know” than to “do.” I would truly have the insiders point of view if I dabbled around with all that entailed in the life of a mixed martial artist, along with that added bonus of gaining what I very much lacked in muscle mass. Not to mention, the education of a bit of self-defense, which wasn’t a bad idea now that I no longer had my own personal body guard to escort me through the ruthless streets of the city. Damn, Tia and her endless ideas that sent my boxed zone of comfort crumbing around me.

“God, I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. Is there anything you can’t talk me into? Like, it’s getting ridiculous. Stop forcing me to be all, spontaneous and what not.” I spat sarcastically at her.

“Well, I haven’t talked you into bed yet, my oh easily persuaded friend. I’ve spared you,” Tia gawked foolishly across the table. I can only imagine the pink cloud of mortification overcasting my gaping jaw.

What crazy plan had she wrangled me into? My hesitant agreeance already a hard to swallow regret. But, she couldn’t drag me into too much trouble with just a bit of exercise, right?

tags: @torialeysha @eap1935

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tomhardyfanfiction #tomhardyfanfic #tommy conlon #elizabeth olsen #thegrind

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