#like she needs to stop pushing me before she finds herself free every wednesday at 3:15 until she picks up a new patient

[julemmaes]

ahem... cassian taking nesta to that bookstore (fluff, don’t try making shit sad aight?)

Our First Non-Date

SURPRISE I GUESS!!

Nessian Archeron x Cassian

You can find the first part here.

A/N: this month has been really nice on me. I finally feel better, not crying every day for literally nothing and I wanna dedicate this to my fren Sim (@perseusannabeth) cause homegirl just finished the offcampus series and she's grieving. I know she is. So yep. Take some Nessian fluff

And Nina, I had to add some angsty parts, but they're not Irene Angst Level, okay?

Word count: 6,833

When Cassian had called her back the night after their outing with Amren and Varian, she'd stared at the phone for a full minute until it had stopped ringing and she could go back to reading the article on poisonous plants that Elain had sent her.

It hadn't even been five minutes before the words had been obscured from the call screen again and the name "Cassian Navarro" appeared.

When she had ignored the call for the second time as well, he had decided to change tactics.

Hi Nes, I was thinking about when you'd be free to go to the library. I need a couple of manuals because I'm building a little gazebo in Rhys and Feyre's garden and your sister is putting a lot of pressure on me, so I was wondering if you had the day off tomorrow.

Nesta was stunned at the amount of useless information he had given her, but managed to reply with a simple, Working tomorrow, day off on Wednesday. Sending you the address later.

She certainly hadn't anticipated how hard it would be to get up that day, her will to live must have been hiding somewhere under her bed and Nesta didn't know if it was directly related to their going out or just her stupid brain not being able to connect to real life.

The only other worst thing she'd been able to think of at that moment was having to explain to Cassian what was going on, so, pulled out of bed by the future embarrassment they'd feel in such a situation, she'd managed to dress, wash and style her hair so that she had a braid crowning her head.

She hadn't put too much effort into deciding what to wear, after all, it wasn't a date and Cassian had seen her many times before in far more outrageous and scruffy clothes than the comfortable black jeans and grey jumper she was wearing right now.

The silence had made her uncomfortable at first, only because Cassian seemed to be really stressed - about what, she certainly wouldn't ask - but after about ten minutes, he'd turned on the radio and popped a CD into the player and the melody of a Verve song had filled the cabin.

She'd started humming under her breath and he'd looked at her with a faint smile on his lips and his eyes sparkling. She hadn't mulled over that look too much, but she'd started eyeing him more closely and noticed the way he narrowed his eyes at every street sign and how he ran a hand over his face every time a strand of hair landed in front of his eyes.

When Cassian had to blow the hair out of his face for the millionth time, Nesta pulled a rubber band off her wrist and handed it to him abruptly.

Cassian looked surprised, but took it almost immediately, brushing her fingers. Nesta immediately withdrew her hand, feeling how warm and calloused his were.

"Thanks, my hair is killing me today," he finally spoke.

Nesta continued to look ahead, noticing that they were about to enter the highway. "Well, it wasn't very wise of you not to tie it up before you got in the car. I never drive with my hair down."

He nodded slowly, still with the band clutched between his fingers. And then, suddenly he let go of the steering wheel, "Hold that for me for a second." and Nesta's eyes went wide, launching herself at him to grab it and keep the car in their lane.

"Are you nuts?" she almost shrieked, keeping her gaze fixed on the road and feeling every nerve ending vibrate with anger.

"Relax." he said in a calm tone, shifting her hands and gently pushing her back into her seat one more time. "It wasn't even five seconds."

Nesta huffed out a laugh that lacked amusement, "You do something like that again without warning me first and I'm getting out of the car."

Cassian looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "A bit dramatic, but alright."

She sighed, shaking her head slightly and resting it on her hand propped against the window.

That awkward silence fell again and Nesta couldn't figure out what the problem was. She hadn't felt any kind of unease three days before, but after all, they'd been with friends and busy walking, not stuck in a car for two hours with no chance of walking away or splitting up.

And in that moment, the reality of their situation overwhelmed her.

She forced herself to steady her breathing, opening the window slightly so that more air could get in. She forced herself to think about all the things she would see today at the library and how beautiful and spectacular it had looked from mere pictures. She wasn't going to let her twisted mind stop her from having fun with someone who was desperately trying to be her friend.

She took a deep breath and a surprising calm enveloped her. She looked to her left to see if Cassian had noticed that temporal change in her behaviour, but it seemed to her that he was just as fidgety.

She was about to ask him if he was okay, because the knee that kept bouncing and the fingers opening and closing on the steering wheel were obvious nervous tics, when he did the eye thing again, this time leaning forward over the dashboard as well, and the sharp turn he took to the right caused her to shift in her seat so much that she bumped her shoulder against his.

Cassian grimaced, "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"What's wrong?" she asked, readjusting in her seat.

"Sorry?"

"What's the matter? With your eyes, I mean."

"Oh." he seemed surprised by the question, almost as if he hadn't realised she'd been observing him for the last twenty minutes. He cast her a curious glance immediately returning to the road. "I wear glasses when I drive, but I couldn't find them this morning and these contacts are the wrong shade and I can't see very well."

Nesta nodded thoughtfully, "Where do you normally keep them?"

"In the glove box. But I already checked," he replied, rolling his shoulders. Another nervous tic.

Nesta had to suppress a smile. There was no way he could be so worked up just because they were talking. She looked down at the phone in her hand to check the time, and a flash of light momentarily dazzled her. She blinked a couple of times and then scoffed, "Found them."

She reached a hand towards the hatch compartment and pulled out a pair of very plain black glasses, handing them to him. Cassian seemed to finally relax since she'd gotten into the car.

"Thank fuck." then he pulled into a lay-by and without turning off the car, slipped two fingers in his eye, removing one contact and then the other, leaving Nesta stunned. He put the glasses on his nose and flashed her a smile that went from ear to ear. And Nesta was stunned for other reasons.

She couldn't deny that Cassian was an attractive man. She wasn't stupid or blind, but the man next to her should have come with a warning sign or a bell.

Attention, hot stuff coming your way.

Nesta forgot the comment she had wanted to make about how antigenic and risky it had been to remove his contacts without first cleaning his hands and in such a dirty environment.

His hair tied back in a messy bun, with the hint of a beard he was letting grow, and now his glasses on, Cassian looked like a model on the cover of a newspaper about sexy carpenters. The short-sleeved black shirt he wore that pulled on his huge biceps every time he moved in the slightest was just one more point to add to the list of things that made him appealing.

"So," he began, getting back on the road, "what's your favourite colour?"

Nesta snorted, "Are you serious?"

Cassian seemed to blanch, "What?"

"Have you ever been out with a girl?" she asked him sarcastically, knowing full well what the answer would be.

He clenched his jaw so hard that a muscle popped out on his face, "Only on dates."

"And this isn't a date." pointed out Nesta, holding back a laugh at how tortured he sounded.

"It's not."

Nesta touched the tip of her nose, thoughtful, "Shouldn't this be easier for you then?"

Cassian released a breath through his nose, "I'm under a lot of pressure right now."

"Yeah?" she asked, looking away and smiling.

"Yeah, and stop looking like you're enjoying it." he retorted.

She feigned innocence, "Enjoying what?"

"My pain." he sheeted.

Nesta laughed, unable to contain herself any longer and when he glared at her, she covered her mouth with one hand, laughing harder. Only when he snapped his fingers against the steering wheel did she stop, laying a hand on his arm, just for a few seconds, "I'm so sorry." she wheezed, "I just don't understand. When you're hanging out with my sisters or Amren, or Mor, I don't know, you don't seem to be in this much discomfort."

Cassian sighed again and Nesta chuckled one last time, stopping when he smiled slightly. "I'm just trying not to make you uncomfortable. You accepted I take you on this non-date, and I'm doing my best not to flirt badly with you every chance I get." he confessed, nodding slowly, as if to convince himself that he was doing the right thing and not wasting their time.

Nesta was genuinely surprised at his answer and decided to offer him an olive branch.

"My favourite colour is blue."

"Nice." he smiled, showing a hint of a dimple, "Mine is red."

"It's too bright of a colour," she said lightheartedly.

Cassian chuckled, "I'm pretty sure it reflects my peppy personality."

Nesta nodded, "I read an article once about how a person's favourite colour says a lot about the person themselves," she said annoyed, "It sounded like one of those quizzes you find in gossip magazines, like it was written by a third grader. I hate those things, like horoscopes."

He grunted, "God, Mor's obsessed with horoscopes..."

The conversation continued without any more awkward silences for the remainder of the ride, and when Cassian turned onto a bumpy road, Nesta knew they were close. Of course, even if she hadn't looked at the directions from her house to the place, the myriad cars parked along the road would have been an indication.

They parked in the first vacant spot they could find and as soon as Nesta was out of the car, an icy gust of wind hit her face, making her shiver with cold. She looked over the bonnet at Cassian and found him staring at her with a half smile on his face. He'd left his glasses in the car and had let his hair down again, her hair band on his wrist, and he looked even prettier than before.

"Do you want my jacket?" he asked her, with a conflicted look on his face, as if he didn't want to. Nesta narrowed her brows and he hurried to add, "There's no hidden agenda to my offer, just a friend lending a jacket to another friend."

Nesta watched him for a moment, trying to really understand his intentions, but then remembered reading in one of the reviews that the library was heated inside and shook her head.

Cassian gave a small nod of assent and then pointed down the street, "Shall we?"

From where they had parked to the library it would have been about a ten minute walk and Nesta couldn't help but notice the way Cassian kept his distance between them as if he was afraid she would get scared and run away.

He was back to fidgeting nervously with his fingers and when he realised she was looking at him, he put them in his pockets, smiling tensely at her. He took a deep breath and then said, "So, what do you know about this library?"

Nesta looked ahead, hoping to catch a glimpse of the building, but the foliage of the trees was still too thick and they were still too far away for it to see anything. She brought her hands to her stomach, crossing her fingers, "I actually did a bit of research before I came. Did you know that the Peace Treaty between Prythian and Hybern of 1864 was signed here?" she asked in an excited voice.

Cassian smiled at her so naturally that she felt herself blush. He had an expression she couldn't decipher, but Nesta had never been good at cracking people in general, so she didn't venture to continue until he said, "Tell me more."

And Nesta launched into a detailed description of the events that had taken place inside the building, which only a hundred years before had become a bookstore. Only one wing of the building had been furnished in such a way as to become a real shop, the rest had been set up to be visited as a museum, one of the oldest libraries. She talked about the architecture and how it was obvious that the palace had been built long before it became an important meeting place for scholars and researchers.

"And in 1932 a fire destroyed the science wing, burning more than a hundred textbooks." Nesta sighed, thinking how devastating that loss had been. She lit up with happiness when she remembered what happened next. "But luckily, one of the most important literary clubs in the city got together and they managed to recover a small portion of the books. It took them years to rewrite every manual, but they got help from one of the local researchers, a certain Mr. Hawthorn, I can't remember the name or details of the research, only that he's mentioned often in the article I read."

When she paused to catch her breath, Nesta realised with immense horror what had just happened. Cassian had not spoken a word after asking her if she knew anything about the place and she had monopolised the conversation without even acknowledging him once. She felt herself flare up and knew in that moment that any hope they had of becoming real friends was gone.

Sometimes she would get lost in thought and ramble on about the things she was passionate about. Quite often people had stopped her, letting her know they weren't interested in the subject, but Cassian had never interrupted her and she was afraid to look at him, convinced she would only find boredom and disgust on his face.

That was why, when he spoke, she was struck dumb.

"I'm impressed." he breathed, chuckling immediately afterwards.

Nesta pushed herself to look at him and he stood admiring her with his mouth slightly open, as if he couldn't find the words. She felt her heart clench in her chest so tightly that she didn't know if she could survive the pain. Who knows how many times he'd tried to stop her and she'd gone on and on about windows and arches and treaties of peace.

But when she got a better look at him, stopping in front of him, Cassian looked... happy.

He let out a laugh, running a hand through his hair, and Nesta was distracted for a moment by the sway of his arms before she was brought violently back down to earth when he said, "You surprise me more and more every time, Nesta."

And the way he said her name - Ne-sta - made her toes curl.

"Why?" she managed to throw out in a weak voice.

Cassian laughed again, raising his eyebrows so high they ended under the hair on his forehead, locking his eyes to hers. "I have a degree in history and my final thesis happened to be on this very library." Nesta felt the ground open up beneath her feet and hoped it swallowed her alive. "I came out of university with top marks and various accolades for finishing my studies on time and you, dreadful creature that you are, have just taught me at least three new things about this place."

His gaze was so intense that Nesta had to lower her head to hide the satisfied and surprised smirk that popped up on her lips.

"You're amazing." huffed Cassian, "Perfect in every way."

She shrugged.

"Although," he clicked his tongue against his palate, "You made a mistake."

Nesta looked up at him, frowning, "Oh, yeah?"

Cassian nodded, smirking fiercely, "Why don't you turn around and admire the palace, and once we're inside, I'll explain what it is?"

She must have been so lost in her chatter that she hadn't noticed that they had arrived in the large entrance forecourt, because when she turned, her back to Cassian, the building stood among the forest trees, as imposing and splendid as ever. The photos had not done it justice in the slightest and Nesta was left speechless.

Living in a country with a history going back millennia, it wasn't hard to stumble upon historic streets with old buildings and monuments, but this was completely different.

She was still admiring the way the stone around the windows had been carved to look like trees trying to get into the building when she felt something settle on the small of her back. A hand.

Nesta stiffened slightly, before closing her eyes and relaxing.

Cassian must have noticed her discomfort because a moment later his hand was no longer touching her.

They entered the museum part of the building in silence and Nesta paid the entrance fees, reminding him of the tea he'd offered her last Sunday and Cassian hadn't been able to argue with that.

They had just passed the doors to the first room, the smallest in the entire palace, when he leaned towards her, to the point of touching her ear with his lips.

The fact that he was whispering as if they had been in a sacred place did things to her little icy heart, "Mr. Hawthorn was not a man."

Shocked by that information, Nesta's head snapped in his direction and she realised too late that she had miscalculated the space.

Her lips brushed against his cheek, the corner of his lips, before Cassian reacted so quickly he startled her, but avoiding them both an involuntary first kiss. His sudden movement caused him to lose his balance and he reached out his hands towards her, straightening as he held on to her shoulders.

Both of them were holding their breath.

Cassian cleared his throat, shifting his gaze to the wall of books, but returning to look at her soon after, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, you just surprised me," she said when she had recovered. "I must have read the article wrong."

He was still watching her and shook his head, "Oh no, I don't think it's that. They only found out a few months ago that it was Georgina and not George Hawthorn. They found letters in the house of what was thought to be Hawthorn's wife. Some people think they were just friends, but anyone who has read the letters they exchanged knows full well that they were lovers. Anyone who says otherwise is either homophobic or stupid."

Nesta realised that she could have listened to this for hours on end. And so it was.

The visit continued relatively quietly, Cassian explaining every detail to her, expanding on things she already knew and when he forgot something, she would step in and have her say, commenting on every little aspect.

She'd noticed how Cassian hadn't tried to touch her anymore and how whenever someone was about to bump into her, he'd vocally warn her instead of wrapping an arm around her shoulders to move her out of their way like he had on Sunday.

The visit to the museum lasted less than expected unfortunately, because Nesta hadn't had this much fun in too long. It was becoming easier to smile at him or tease him when he said dumb things and even he seemed to finally be more at ease when he had to make jokes that smacked of him.

When they finally got to the shop, Nesta couldn't stand on her feet anymore, she just wanted to buy all the books she saw and go home and arrange them on her shelves.

"Which section do you want to see first?" she asked him, even though she had started hopping impatiently about the place.

Cassian gave her a smug look, "Why don't you go wherever you want and I'll look for the manuals for the gazebo in the meantime? That way you don't waste time keeping up with me. I'll be right there."

Nesta let out an excited squeal and ran off, hearing only the echo of laughter that shook Cassian from head to toe.

***

As Cassian flipped through the various books to find a picture of a gazebo that looked similar to the one Feyre had requested, he kept casting glances at Nesta.

Her eyes sparkled as she grabbed book after book without even reading the synopses. She was in the romance novels section, from what he could see from where he stood, but soon ended up in the classics, where she grabbed just as many books. She moved to the mystery books section, this time stopping to read the plots and putting most of them back on the shelves.

Then, surprising Cassian, she walked over to where the historical novels were and turned to face him. He bent his head to the side, raising an eyebrow to ask her what she was doing there. Nesta seemed at a loss, trying to move all the books from one arm to the other to point him to join her, but Cassian was already halfway there and when she looked back up at him and found him standing in front of her, she gave him a bright smile.

"Hello." she exclaimed.

Cassian's breath caught for a second before he too sighed a greeting.

"I was thinking," Nesta began, running her eyes over the titles in front of them, "that you could recommend something about..." she wiggled her fingers as much as she could, trying to point to the shelf, and Cassian leaned forward, cursing himself for not thinking of it sooner.

"Here," he removed the first stack of books from her arms and she sagged a little, giving him a thankful look. "I can go get a bag so you can put them all in there and you don't have to carry them like this," he said taking all the books and having her help him arrange them so they wouldn't fall out.

He smiled at her over all the books, looking down at her and she smiled back just as happily.

Hell, if she looked at him like that every time he took her to a bookstore he should do it more often.

He had just turned to go towards the entrance, where he had seen special bags for carrying books, but Nesta stopped him by putting a hand on his arm.

"Wait!" she exclaimed almost impishly.

Cassian turned his head, genuinely worried that something had happened to her in the mere seconds he had been shot. He must have moved too fast, because one of the smaller classics flew off the top of the stack and landed right in her face.

Nesta groaned at the impact and brought her hands to her face, rubbing her forehead where it hurt.

"Oh my God, are you okay?!" he asked with wide eyes. And then Nesta laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she stared at him and he visibly relaxed. "Christ, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw a book at you."

She waved a hand in mid-air, to let him know it was nothing, and bent down to pick up what he realised was A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. Of course Nesta was reading feminist classics.

She turned back to the books as if nothing had happened and Cassian had the urge to look for a list of all the bookstores in the world to take her to if it meant having her in such a good mood by his side, it didn't matter if she would never agree to go on a real date with him, he realised. As long as he could see her smile like that, he didn't need anything else.

"So, I was saying, before you battered me with a book-" she cast an amused glance over one shoulder at him.

He frowned, muttering, "I said sorry."

Nesta ignored him, "What do you recommend?"

Cassian blinked.

"You said you read historical novels right?" she asked, looking for confirmation, "You could recommend your favourites. But not the English or Russian classics. Or French ones. Chances are I've already read those."

Cassian was stunned. Nesta wanted advice on books. From him.

They were silent for too long as she turned around impatiently, "You lied?"

He looked surprised, "When?"

"When you said you were reading. Were you just doing it to impress me or were you serious?" she asked and maybe Cassian imagined it, but she looked disappointed.

He was quick to reply, "The Black Coat, by Neamat Imam. It's pretty recent, but set in the 1970s in Bangladesh. It's about a man who needs help and seeks it from a journalist he asks for work and one of the main themes is the famine that hit the country after it became independent. It's not my absolute favourite, but it certainly gives you something to think about."

Nesta nodded, searching through the titles and finding it almost immediately, "Anything else?"

Cassian felt his neck heat up and coughed a little before resuming speaking. "The Long Ships by Frans G. Bengtsson. Set in the tenth century, it's about a Viking who is called Red because of his hair and focuses on the European political outlook in the late Viking Age. Again, it's not as good as the historical classics, but it's nice and shows a way of life that we're definitely not used to. It's different."

After looking for a few minutes, Nesta gave up reading and turned to him, crossing her arms. She tilted her head to the side, watching him closely, "What's your favourite book?"

Cassian shrugged, settling the books against his chest, "I think at the moment it's The King Must Die by Mary Renault. But I change my mind every month when I find something more interesting or captivating."

She nodded thoughtfully, "I'll take that one then."

And Cassian wished he could change the title immediately because... what if she didn't like it? Or if she thought it was a stupid book? What would she think of him then?

But Nesta had already found a copy a few shelves down and there was no turning back.

He could counterattack, though, "What about yours? You're not going to give me any advice on feminist classics or blatantly trashy romance novels?"

Nesta opened her mouth wide, looking outraged as she placed the latest addition on the pile, settling the book under her chin, "How can you say they're trashy if you don't even know what they're about?"

Cassian chuckled, "On the cover of You Came," he said as he gave her a sly look, "there's something called a 'spicymeter'. How am I supposed to take you seriously?"

Nesta blushed, "I read erotic novels, so what? I have to keep myself busy in my spare time somehow."

And then he challenged her, "Get me the hottest book you've ever read," he said in a joking tone, "I'll go get the bag in the meantime."

She had already left for the section when he had an idea that would surely doom him depending on how Nesta would react.

He walked up to the cashier's desk, making sure she didn't notice, and begging the clerk behind the counter to be quick, paid for all her books, gently placing them back in the bags.

When he reached her again, she seemed not to have noticed anything.

"'So, what did you get me? Ride Me? Fucked You Good? Last Night I Gave You A Thousand Orgasms?" he teased her with an annoyed grin on his lips.

Nesta gave him a fiery glance before noticing the bags, quite different from those you put the things you wanna buy in, and closed her mouth tightly. She frowned and looked at them for so long before speaking that Cassian began to feel self-conscious.

"You paid for my books?" she whispered, looking at him.

He nodded.

"It's not a date, Cassian," she reminded him for the umpteenth time.

"I know, but-"

"So why would you pay for things that are mine?"

He couldn't read her. She wasn't hinting at anything.

She didn't look angry but she didn't look impressed or grateful either.

Cassian placed the bags on the ground between them and Nesta followed his every movement with her eyes.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing, "My adoptive family is filthy rich. I have a trust fund that I never get to spend on things I really want to do, the only way I get to use it is by giving gifts to my friends, so just accept these as my first gift - friend to friend - and call it a day."

Nesta continued to be impassive as she kept her eyes fixed on the books.

Perhaps he had gone too far. After all, she had taken more than a hundred and fifty euros worth of stuff, but he really didn't mind.

He was about to apologise, tell her she could give the money back if it made her feel better. Cassian would find a way to spend it back on her at other times anyway.

Then she raised her head, handing him two books with hilarious covers to say the least, "These two have storylines full of plot twists. You won't be able to put them down, but don't expect big epic battles or Viking warriors. It's just two college kids trying to survive in the modern world while finding solace in each other."

He didn't even have time to thank her that she was already across the room and waiting in line so she could pay them.

He scoffed, shaking his head.

"I guess you'll be paying for these two," he said as he caught up with her.

Nesta didn't even look at him, pulling out her wallet, "A gift from a friend to a friend."

As they walked back to the car, Cassian offered to carry the bags, but she didn't want to hear one more word so they had managed to compromise and had split the load equally.

They'd been on the road for about thirty minutes now and Nesta had gone through every book he'd bought her, talking about all the previous works by the authors she was holding in her hand at the moment.

Cassian could have died like that. Happy, relaxed, listening to the plots of those dirty books with no moral lessons to teach the reader, just pure entertainment.

He wondered at that moment if he would make it through the first few chapters of the books she had offered him and let out a heavy breath through his nose as he turned right towards the coast.

Nesta looked at him wide-eyed, stopping her rant about the headmaster's son getting the occasional model student to fall in love with him. She brought a hand to her mouth, "Oh dear, sorry, I'm boring you. I'm sorry."

He gave her a confused look ready to tell her she didn't have to apologise, but she continued.

"Sometimes I do and I don't even realize it. And I realize they're not challenging plots where you have to apply some hidden lobe of the brain to understand them, but they distract me from everyday problems, you know? It's fun to be able to unplug a few hours after I get home from work and-"

"Jesus, Nesta, stop!" he laughed, placing a hand on her thigh. She sighed. "You don't have to apologise. Not when you're so excited about something." he looked at her slyly, offering her a reassuring smile, "In fact, I'm glad you're talking so much today. Normally I have to pull the words out of your mouth."

She blushed slightly and then grew sullen soon after, sitting up straighter, "This isn't the way to Velaris, where are we going?"

Cassian didn't answer.

"You're taking me into the woods aren't you?"

"We literally just came out of a forest."

She ignored him.

"I knew it. You're a serial killer."

"Nes-"

"You're a little dense though. Why would you spend so much on someone if you're going to murder them?"

He decided to ignore her, chuckling, "I'm taking you to the beach."

"Why?" she asked, somewhat unconvinced.

Cassian shrugged, "I wanted to see the sunset."

"You didn't ask."

He sighed, gripping the steering wheel, "Okay," he whispered, then louder, "You want to go to the beach and watch the sunset?"

She nodded in assent and then continued to read the plots aloud.

And Cassian could have sworn he was in heaven.

***

Nesta gathered more sand, making a small ball out of it and placing it on the top of one of the towers she had made so far.

"Where did you learn to make such good sandcastles?" asked Cassian suddenly from behind her, startling her.

She jumped in the air, turning to face him and noticing the satisfied smile on his face for having taken her by surprise.

Nesta didn't answer him immediately, but allowed herself to admire him a bit.

Since they had arrived at the beach, they had taken off their shoes and were now both barefoot and then Cassian had bent down and started to roll his trousers around his ankles, offering to do it to her jeans as well, but Nesta had refused. She had sat down, looking at the sea for a while, while he walked along the shore and collected stones and shells.

When he had come back to her and shown them to her, asking her to make a sandcastle, she had laughed at first, but faced with his serious expression, she had been unable to do anything but get up and roll up her sleeves, moving to where the sand was a little more workable.

She looked away from that heavenly vision and made another ball, placing it next to the one she had just made. "When I was little my mum never let me do these, she said I'd get too much sun and forced me and Elain to stay under the umbrella all day," she replied truthfully, remembering the cruel bite of jealousy watching the children on the shore.

"And Feyre?"

Cassian had joined her, kneeling beside her and had begun to place the shells so that they served as windows to the towers.

Nesta sighed, "Feyre was still too little when Mini Me wanted to build sandcastles, but as soon as I became 'too old to play like a kid'," she gave him a knowing look, mimicking her mother's voice, "and Feyre started to figure out she was an actual being, Mama let her do whatever she wanted. Even stand in the sun for hours on end." she shrugged. "Whether it was out of indifference or love, I never understood."

Cassian had been silent the whole time and now he watched her, hands on his thighs as he waited for her to give him more. For her to tell him another little piece of her soul.

So she offered him a forced smile, "So to answer your question, it's all pent-up creativity."

"Well, you're very good at it," he granted her. "I can imagine what you could have done if your mother hadn't been so strict."

Well, yeah.

"What about you?" she asked him.

"What about me?"

"Did you go to the beach a lot?"

Cassian smiled weakly, getting up and heading towards the water to collect more shells. He nodded a couple of times and then said, "My mum and I loved coming to the beach and she loved making castles. And she always put so many 'windows' on the towers-"

Nesta turned to look at their work, realising how many shells he had placed on the piles of sand. She smiled softly, covering her eyes from the sun and watching him walk towards her.

"We always came when she was free from work."

A charged silence settled between them until Cassian chuckled, drawing her attention, "What?"

"You said this wasn't a date. And that we're just friends. Right?"

Shifting her gaze to him, she noticed how he kept his hands hidden behind his back and the mischievous glint in his eyes didn't reassure her at all. Slowly she stood up, nodding.

"So, I must treat you as I would treat my friends. Correct?"

"Cassian, I swear to god that-"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence that something wet and sticky landed in her face with a resounding splash, making her jump back.

She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it when a strong smell of stale water and seaweed flooded her nostrils.

When she opened her eyes again, wiping the seaweed from her face, Cassian was doubled over in laughter.

She didn't even give him time to get up when she started to run towards him - to do what, she had no idea - but he started to run away too and soon they were chasing each other all around the beach, not noticing the sweet looks they were getting from the people around them.

At that moment, Nesta was running so fast that she could feel the wind in her hair and the smell and sound of the sea, together with the laughter of the man who was chasing her, mixed with her own and the continuous tapping of her feet on the sand, made her feel alive.

She felt Cassian come closer every few metres until two strong arms wrapped around her waist and she was pulled up and spun around in the air.

A surprised yelp escaped her as Cassian laughed in her ear, "Gotcha!"

It wasn't until he stopped spinning with her in his arms that they realised the position they were in and immediately broke away, laughing embarrassed.

Nesta turned to face him, her face red from running and her breathing laboured. He was in no better condition. His hair was pointing in all directions and his sculpted chest was rising and falling with haste under the black fabric of his shirt.

He looked away first, scratching the back of his neck and fixing his eyes on the sunset, and offered her his arm as they returned to where they had left theirs things unattended.

Nesta shook her head, laughing one last time and started to run, " Last to reach the castle is stupid!"

Cassian burst out laughing, but he caught up to her in the blink of an eye and they both knew that she had doomed herself to lose. That's why, when he fell tripping over his feet, Nesta knew he had done it on purpose.

She helped him up and they sat back as in silence they watched the sun go down, disappearing past the horizon and the blending lights of the sky created a breathtaking spectacle.

Nesta couldn't have noticed, too busy admiring the clouds, but Cassian had been watching her the whole time, trying to understand how something as sombre and secretive as her could look so bright just by being.

The journey back was silent, but this time the silence was not awkward. They both welcomed it with open arms, a new awareness that there was no need for it to be filled with chatter and that gave Nesta the opportunity to close her eyes for a moment and doze off.

When the car stopped outside her flat, Nesta was surprised to find that she didn't want to get out.

She turned to Cassian after she had gathered her things and nodded, "I had fun today."

He gave her a genuine smile, looking surprised, "Me too."

And then she permanently shocked him, adding, "I'm not working on Saturday, we could do it again. Changing location."

He blinked once. Twice. Then he nodded, "Sure."

He didn't seem to want to say anything more, so Nesta waved goodbye to him and then got out, not waiting for an answer from him.

Cassian stood motionless in the car park of her flat for another half hour, trying to figure out what had just happened, and when the reality of things finally dawned on him, he smiled, "Fuck yeah."

acotar tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien-of-nargothrond @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @hellasblessed @nahthanks @archeron-queens-blog @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron @oop-theregoesgravity @firebirdofscythia @anne-reads @fantastypenguins @laylaameer01 @thalia-2-rose @darkshadowqueensrule @bookstantrash @lanyjoy-13 @the-regal-warrior @lordof-bloodshed @dealingdifferentdevils @swankii-art-teacher @rowaelinismyotp

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acosf #nessian fic #nessian fluff #fluff

[theladyofdeath]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 6}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz x @tacmc collaboration.

Word Count: 3080

** N S F W **

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Aphrodite

– Goddess of love, beauty, and desire

The second Aelin stepped into Rowan’s apartment, silence ensued. With the door shut behind them, Aelin felt like his apartment had significantly shrunk in size since the last time she had been there. 

Granted, everything looked the same. The blanket that was draped across his leather sectional in his living room still laid in the same spot, his television was still quietly playing a hockey game, and his laptop sat on his coffee table. Only, this time, there wasn’t a mug of coffee next to it but a nearly-empty bottle of beer. 

“So,” Aelin began, just as Rowan said, “Sorry, it’s a mess.”

Aelin blinked, looking around at his pristine apartment. “This is what you consider a mess?”

Rowan looked around before chuckling, nervously. “Yeah, well, there’s….dust.” 

Aelin nodded, slowly, continuing to look around. “Well, here’s your clothes,” she said, at last, holding out the bag.

“Thanks,” Rowan muttered, taking the bag from her outstretched hand before tossing it aside. “Do you…want a drink or something? I was just doing some grading.”

“Grading and drinking?” Aelin asked. “Quite the combination.” 

Rowan shrugged. “Only makes the shitty papers a little bit better to read.”

“Have you read mine yet?” Aelin asked, before she could think better of it. Rowan hesitated, and Aelin shook her head. “Wow, that was an inappropriate question. Sorry.” 

“No, it’s fine,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You could have asked me that in class and I’d have answered it. I have.”

When he didn’t go on, Aelin cleared her throat awkwardly. “I’ve never taken a mythology course, so I don’t know much about it, save for what Disney taught me. Which apparently was all wrong, anyways.” She tucked a loose hair behind her ear and cleared her throat again. Maybe coming here was a bad idea. “But music, I do know a lot about, so Apollo seemed like a safe bet. Even if I’m sure I sounded stupid and-.”

“You didn’t,” he interrupted, leaning against the counter. “Your essay is the only one I’ve read that seemed like a real opinion piece, and not like you’re trying to blow smoke up my ass and impress me with your knowledge. This is an introduction class, remember? You aren’t supposed to be a scholar of mythology yet. I liked how honest it was.” 

Aelin blinked. “Really?”

Rowan nodded, his eyes remaining on hers. It made Aelin’s heart beat a little bit faster. “Yeah, it was great. I love to hear your thoughts, and I’m excited to hear more of them.”

Aelin nodded and took a deep breath. She should have turned and walked out, told him goodbye, but she couldn’t. Her feet were glued to the floor, her heart nearly ready to beat out of her chest. Her thoughts trailed to the last time she was here, when she’d met the most abundant amount of pleasure she had ever received, and left smitten and wanting more. 

From the way the light in his eyes shifted, Aelin knew that Rowan was thinking the same thing. 

“I should go,” Aelin said, quietly. 

“Yeah,” Rowan agreed.

Neither of them moved. 

“You could’ve kept the clothes,” Rowan continued, swallowing. “You didn’t have to come all the way here.”

“I thought you’d want them back,” Aelin said, even though she wasn’t really sure that she even truly believed that. 

Every second more that Rowan stared at her, and she stared back, a throbbing formed between her thighs. Rowan said, “You look better in them than I do.” 

Aelin swallowed. “I should go,” she repeated.

“Do you want to go?” Rowan asked, hardly more than a whisper.

Aelin remained where she was, watching him, her chest rising and falling, rapidly, with each heavy breath she took. 

She slowly shook her head, and before she could form an intelligible thought, Rowan was coming toward her, taking her waist into his hands, and claiming her mouth with his.

She melted into his touch, her hands diving into his hair, holding her against him. He wasted no time, lifting her and setting her on the counter behind her, and stepping between her legs. Aelin gently nibbled on his lip and he opened for her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth just as hers did the same. His hands were still sitting on her waist, but hers were less than idle.

Finding the hem of his shirt, her fingers ran over the abdomen muscles she couldn’t get out of her head. He pulled his lips from hers as a shudder wracked through him and he let out a shaking breath.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he admitted, pulling her to the edge of the counter and grinding against her.

Aelin’s lashes fluttered as she let out a soft moan. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, either.”

His lips were on hers again, hungrily, longingly, and all conversation faded away as Aelin pulled off Rowan’s shirt and ran her hands through his messy, short silvery hair. 

Rowan muttered a curse against Aelin’s mouth, and she felt a fire ignite within her core. She wanted it. Gods, she wanted it, wanted him. She knew it was wrong, knew there were boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed, knew the schools had rules, knew employers had rules, but as his mouth trailed from her lips to her neck, just beneath her jaw, Aelin had a really, really hard time caring about any of that. 

His hands slid beneath her top, feeling cool and needy against her skin. 

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he murmured between the kisses that trailed down her neck. She knew he would, too. One word, and it was done, over.

But, despite the rules, she begged, “Don’t fucking stop.” 

That was all Rowan needed to hear. He pulled her shirt over her head, his lips immediately finding her skin again. His kisses trailed from her neck to her shoulder and he pushed the strap of her bra down. His hand did the same with the other and as soon as the straps were free, he reached behind her and unclasped it.

Dropping his head, his mouth closed around her nipple and his tongue circled the sensitive peak. Aelin’s moan was louder than she meant for it to be, but Rowan didn’t try to stifle it. Instead his hand found her breast, rolling her other nipple between his fingers.

Aelin swore, and it had Rowan moaning, muffled, palming her breast as his teeth tugged on her nipple as his free hand made its way into the back of her leggings. 

When he realized that she wore no panties, he was about to combust. 

Aelin’s hands dove into his hair and she pulled his head back. “I need you. Now.”

Rowan’s only response was finding Aelin’s mouth again with his own, and shoving his sweatpants down onto the kitchen floor. His hard length was on perfect display inside of his boxer-briefs. When Aelin palmed him, he grabbed her off of the counter and carried her into the living room, dropping her down onto the couch. Before he covered his body with hers, he yanked off her leggings and tossed them aside. 

He groaned as she continued to rub him through his underwear until he finally couldn’t take it anymore, needing to feel her skin on his. He intended to take them off, but only got as far as freeing his length before she wrapped her hand around him and stroked once, twice. His head fell into the crook of her neck and he did his best not to look like an inexperienced teenager, but he bucked his hips into her hands, groaning again.

This was all he’d been able to think of for the past few days, ever since he saw her in his classroom. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of taking her against every free surface in the hall, as well as in his office. He didn’t have a chance to explain that to her though, as she shifted beneath him and lined him up at her entrance.

She was all slick skin and warm, soft wetness and he pushed into her. With a breathy sigh, her head fell back, eyes rolling back, and he took advantage of her attention elsewhere to look down at where they were joined. Watching as his hips rocked into hers, he breathed her name, gripping her hip and fighting the urge to press her down into the cushions with his weight.

Aelin’s hands snaked around the back of Rowan’s neck and she pulled him against her, kissing him, urgently. Rowan pulled out slowly before thrusting himself back into her, over and over and over again, relentlessly. It felt so good, so right. He kept his pace, pushing into her harder each time, until she was screaming, his name falling from her lips continuously. 

Rowan’s moan became muffled against her neck as her knees began to quiver around him. As he felt her come, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.

When he came, Aelin was clinging to him, still coming down from her high.

Rowan’s body fell against hers, and her body remained wrapped around his as they caught their breaths. 

She was unable to stop herself from running her fingers up and down his back, even going so far as to brush them through the short hair at the nap of his neck. There was no question what he would say after he pulled out and cleaned her up.

This was a mistake.

We shouldn’t have done that.

You need to go.

Aelin wasn’t sure which it would be or if it would be some mixture of the three. All she knew is that it would hurt.

Seeing him in class every day, knowing that this connection existed between them, aside from just sex, was going to hurt.

Pulling back, his green eyes found hers and she braced herself for him to ask her to leave.

But then he kissed her again.

“I was going to order dinner,” he said, lips still brushing hers. “If you want to stay.”

Aelin hesitated, but not because she didn’t want to stay. 

Rowan picked up on it, though. “Or, if you don’t want to…” he began, pushing himself up off of her.

Aelin shook her head and held onto him, pulling him back down on top of her. “No, it’s not that, it’s the opposite.” She laughed, quietly. “I was just…preparing myself for you to say…anything but that.”

Rowan’s eyes softened as he nodded, slowly. “So…you do want to stay, then?”

Aelin brushed his damp hair off of his forehead. “Am I allowed to stay?”

“Right now, what we’re allowed to do is the last thing on my mind,” Rowan breathed, leaning down to kiss her softly. “Right now, all I’m thinking about is ordering dinner and having you here with me.”

She nodded, smiling softly. “That sounds nice.”

“Okay,” he replied, returning her smile. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

Just as he did the last time, he returned with a warm rag, wiping her off and cleaning her up. He also returned with his shirt, the one she’d intended to return, rather than her clothes.

“I’m on the pill, by the way,” she said, glancing over at him as he pulled his own sweatpants back on.

He blinked once, as if he’d just realized they hadn’t used a condom.

And he’d come inside her.

“I…really should have asked before I just assumed.” He rubbed at the back of his neck again. “I’m sorry.”

Aelin chuckled, quietly. “Don’t worry. If I wasn’t prepared, I wouldn’t have let you inside of me to begin with.”

“Fair enough,” Rowan said, sitting next to her on the couch. “In my defense, our last…encounter is still a little fuzzy when it comes to the little details.”

When they’d been together last, there had been a lot of alcohol…and Rowan couldn’t remember if he’d used a condom then, but he couldn’t imagine that he had.

He sent up a quick thank you to the gods for the creation of birth control.

Now, he put his arm around Aelin as he pulled up the menu to a little local Mexican restaurant a block down the road. “What’re you in the mood for?”

Aelin hummed and looked through the menu as Rowan scrolled through it. “Chimichanga. And a taco. Make it two. With a side of rice. And a bowl of queso.”

Rowan gave her an amused glance as he entered all of her requests into the cart.

“What?” She asked, huffing a laugh. “You’re the reason I worked up an appetite.” 

“Fair enough,” he laughed and pressed a kiss to her temple. He ordered their food, thankful that his favorite restaurant down the road was still serving margaritas to-go, and then set his phone aside.

It was quiet for a minute and when he glanced over at Aelin, she was brushing the end of a lock of her hair over her lips.

He loosened it from her fingers and she looked over at him. “What’s on your mind?”

She shrugged. “I’m trying to figure out where we’re going from here, what we’re doing…”

She was still only wearing his shirt, her leggings and own shirt still strewn somewhere around his kitchen. He turned to face her, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone. “It’s been less than a week and I can’t get you off my mind. I’ve tried, but… I don’t want to.”

Aelin hesitated. “I feel the same way. But….your job-.”

“I’ll keep my job-.”

“And my future-.”

“I won’t ask you to do this if you don’t want to do this,” Rowan said. “I’m more than willing to keep us a secret. I just want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you, too,” Aelin breathed. “But is it really a relationship if we have to hide all the time?”

“You won’t be in school forever,” he said, taking her face into his hands. “Soon, you’ll graduate and then we won’t have to hide anymore.”

She was quiet for another moment, so he added, “You wanted to date me before you found out who I was. If you’re not interested anymore because of that, I get it—.”

“It’s not that,” she replied, leaning into his palm. “I just worry about the consequences.”

“Damn the consequences,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her. “And we’ll be careful, to make sure nobody knows. Not a soul.”

She made a face and for a second, he got worried, but she said, “I may have gotten wine drunk on Tuesday and told my roommate. But she’s my best friend, and she wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Chuckling, he nodded. “I got whiskey drunk and told mine. So we’re even.”

That made her laugh and the sight and sound loosened the strain in his chest,

“How do we do this?” She asked, covering one of his hands with hers.

“Carefully,” he said, and kissed her, slowly. “And one day at a time.”

“I can do that,” she said, and climbed into his lap, straddling his waist.

“Me too,” he promised.

“We’ll have to lay down some ground rules,” he replied, his hands immediately finding her ass. He hadn’t forgotten she wasn’t wearing underwear. “Like minimal contact in class. We can’t seem too…familiar.”

She nodded. “That’s reasonable. And no special treatment from you. I’m still your student, whether we’re having sex or not.”

“Special treatment?” He chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, like you can’t grade my papers or exams easier because we’re sleeping together.” She was running her hands over his bare chest, following the lines of his tattoo. Her eyes met his and went wide. “Or harder. Not unless you’re willing to give extra tutor sessions.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, but leaned up, capturing her lips in a kiss. “I promise, I’ll treat you just like every other student I have. Except for the fact that we’re having sex. That is just for you.”

“So,” she mumbled, acting shy all of a sudden. Rowan thought it was adorable. “You’re saying we’re exclusive?”

Rowan’s eyes softened. “I sure as hell don’t want to be seeing anyone else.”

“Pretty sure that’s the definition of exclusive,” she said.

Rowan huffed a laugh, his fingers gripping her ass a little tighter. “Then yes, smart ass.”

Aelin’s grin widened. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Rowan pulled her closer into him before kissing her, yet again.

He liked kissing Aelin.

He didn’t think he would ever grow tired of kissing Aelin.

“So what excuse should I give to women when they throw themselves at me?” Rowan asked. “You know, since I can’t tell anyone that you’re my girlfriend.”

She snorted. “Do women throw themselves at you often?” His raised eyebrow was enough of an answer. That and Aelin was living proof that, yes, women did throw themselves at him. Chuckling, she said, “Right. Maybe the old, generic excuse of I’m working on myself right now. Don’t really have time for a girlfriend.”

She dropped her voice an octave when she said it, doing a horrible impression of Rowan’s deep voice, but he laughed. “I guess that would work. And you’re obviously so focused on your studies, 

since it’s your last semester, that you don’t even have time to think about dating.”

“I do take my studies seriously,” Aelin said, and though her tone was stark, her eyes were playful.

“I can tell you do.” Rowan was leaning in to kiss her again when there was a knock on the front door.

They both jumped, Aelin going so far as to climb off of his lap, when Rowan realized it was their dinner.

She blushed as he went to retrieve it, grabbing two glasses for the margaritas.

“Are you going to jump every time we order food?” Rowan asked, sitting next to her with a pile of to-go boxes. He handed her a margarita.

Aelin chuckled as she took it. “Are you?”

Rowan sipped from his glass as he grinned. When he set it on the coffee table, he said, “I guess this will just take some getting used to.”

“I guess it will,” Aelin agreed, pulling her knees up on the couch as she began to flip open the boxes. “But I’m okay with that.”

Rowan leaned over to kiss her, softly, as he said, “Me too.”

#rowaelin #fanfic #snacmc ttf #rowaelin ttf #rowan #aelin #tog #modern au #college au #fanfiction #sjm #snacmc collab

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Nineteen ~ Haldir

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3722

Warnings: None

A/n I’m back bay-beeeee!!! Thank you for your patience while I took a few weeks off to finish school. I did something kinda stupid and booked a full semester of classes for the summer session *pained smile* and asked for more shifts at work *pained smile*. So! In light of this ~questionable~ choice, I'm changing my update schedule. Updates will now come for sure once a week on Wednesdays, with the occasional bonus chapter. Thanks for understanding, and happy reading! 

I leave Cosima at her door.

I’m surprised by how much of my willpower it takes to walk away.

Now that I know what it’s like to hold her close, to feel her lips on mine, to hear her say that she loves me, I find it incredibly difficult to distance myself. I want more of her. I want to jump head-first into the ocean that is Cosima and allow myself to drown.

Though, I suppose, that is exactly what I am doing. Because loving her will be the death of me.

But denying the need to be with her is an even worse fate. And, by the way she seems to wholeheartedly return my affections, she feels the same.

Regardless, I have yet to even officially ask if I can court her — I have no right to invite myself into her chambers, especially not for the night. So, I return to my room. Thankfully, Rumil is still out. He adores Cosima almost as much as I do, but I guarantee he will not be pleased by the development in our relationship—understandably. Choosing to bind myself to a mortal means something difficult for my family. I will have to tell them soon, but not tonight. I don’t want to tarnish the euphoria my time with Cosima has given me.

I fall into bed.

I should be exhausted. After all, deciding to stop fighting reason and giving in to what I’ve been resisting for so long is quite tiring.

But every time I close my eyes, I remember Cosima looking up at me, dazed and adoring, the way her lips searched after mine, the way she looked when I told her how I felt.

It makes for quite a restless night.

{***}

My day seems endless. Every meeting, every drill, every task, my mind is consumed with Cosima. Now that I know I can hold her, kiss her, openly declare my affections, that is all I want to do. With every free moment in my day, I fight the urge to seek her out. We have plans to meet for dinner, and I anchor myself in that — I will see her then.

After a long day of agony, the time for dinner arrives.

When I hear the knock on my open door, I have to force myself not to run across the room. I take a deep breath when I reach the door, trying to push myself into my usual state of self-assurance. Once I’ve got myself under control, I open the door.

And the assurance vanishes.

Cosima steps into my room, beautiful and lovely as ever, wearing for the first time in all that I’ve known her, a shy smile. I understand it. Though we have been alone a thousand times before, and been friends for what feels like ages, after last night, everything feels new, unsure.

I close the door behind her.

“How was your day,” she asks, fiddling with her fingers.

I smile, trying to act normal. “It was alright.” I step forward, as close to her as I dare. The brilliant light of the sunset dances across her hair and I can’t help reaching up a hand to trace over the waves. “I admit though, I found myself quite distracted.”

She grins and quirks an eyebrow, already seeming much more like herself. “Would you like to tell me why?”

I dip my head closer to hers. “I’d wager you can guess.”

I press my lips to hers, all at once feeling the elation that comes with doing so and the anxiety that she will push me away and ask what in the Valar I think I’m doing. For all I know, last night could have been a fluke. She could have changed her mind.

But her lips move against mine and her hands find the back of my neck, holding me in place, and my worry vanishes. It is replaced by a new feeling, one that clouds my brain and blocks out everything around me except for her.

Cosima pulls away and rests her forehead against mine, looking up at me with wide, vulnerable eyes. “So you haven’t changed your mind?”

Oh, how alike we are. I take her hand, wrapping my other around her waist. It feels so strange to interact with someone like this. Not strange in a bad way—not at all—but I have spent my entire life keeping my distance from others. Never in over three thousand years have I wanted to take someone in my arms and hold them as close to me as possible. I squeeze the hand in mine. “No, I have not. And I won’t change my mind. I meant what I said last night. I choose you today and I will choose you for the rest of my life.”

She lets out a shuddering breath, her hand tensing on my shoulder. “I shouldn’t let you.”

Despite the concern I feel for her—I can see that my words have caused her a measure of stress—my lips quirk in a smile. “Cosima, I am fully grown and capable of making my own choices, just as you are. Though you can send me away if you wish—that is your right—it would not stop me from loving you.”

She sighs somewhat sadly, but she raises on her toes and kisses me again. “Well, you’ve got me completely besotted, so congratulations.”

I laugh, relieved to hear the words and to see that the sadness has left her eyes. I bury my face in her neck, hugging her tightly. “I guess that’s good to hear.”

She jabs her elbow into my ribs, presumably at my sarcasm, which only makes me laugh harder. She pushes against my chest, raising up for another kiss, when a knock sounds through the room.

We freeze.

Thank Valar I shut the door.

As if agreeing to an unspoken plan, Cosima hurries to sit at the small table where the dinner plates I have for us are set. Her presence shouldn’t be anything to cause alarm—we are well-known friends—though, I suppose, we have been avoiding each other for months.

I hold back a sigh. Yes, her presence probably will raise an eyebrow or two.

Once she’s settled, I roll back my shoulders and assume a neutral expression, opening my door.

It’s Orophin and Lavandil.

I smile, moving out of the way so they can enter, and welcome them in.

“Cosima.” Orophin falters upon noticing her presence.

She smiles and waves, standing from the table and joining us in the center of the room. “Hey, what’s up?”

Orophin glances between my human companion and myself. “I…” He furrows his eyebrows, obviously trying to draw a connection between Cosima, the closed door, and my hopefully neutral expression. I don’t think he gets there. “I am glad to see the two of you have reconciled,” he says finally, nodding at us both.

Lavandil, on the other hand, has her eyes blown wide. She stares pointedly at Cosima, looking like it’s taking all the effort in the world not to run over to her and demand an explanation. Cosima’s stoicism is not as practiced as mine, and she breaks eye contact under Lavandil’s stare, looking at the ceiling instead.

We’ll have to work on that later.

“What brings you here,” I ask, hoping to redirect the focus.

My question has an unintended effect. Orophin and Lavandil exchange glances, a weight seeming to fall on both of their shoulders.

Orophin clasps his hands behind his back, looking me square in the eye. He takes a deep breath. “I am staying in Imladris.”

Cosima makes an audible intake of breath.

I don’t move.

Orophin continues, hurrying to explain himself. “I know this seems sudden, but the thought has weighed on my mind for a while.”

Again, I say nothing.

My mind runs through a million things at once, analyzing previous conversations, expressions, looking for any clue that this was coming. In hindsight, there are many. How could I have missed the signs?

Orophin takes a step forward. “Brother, it…it is getting more dangerous in this world by the day. I understand my duty to my people but I will not leave Lavandil unprotected.”

I can respect that.

My eyes involuntarily turn to Cosima.

I can understand that.

There is nothing in this world that could stop me from doing all that I can to keep her safe.

I nod slowly, turning my gaze back to my brother and his love. “You are released from your duties until you decide to reclaim them. I wish you both all the happiness in the world.”

Orophin’s shoulders sag, his face breaking into an expression of relief. “Thank you, Haldir.”

Lavandil’s eyes shine and she steps forward, giving me a pleading look. “I’m sorry.”

Voices overlap as Orophin, Cosima, and I all hurry to reassure her that she has nothing to be sorry for. Lavandil smiles, still teary-eyed, though thankfully the guilt has faded from her face. She turns to Cosima, eyes softening. “I will miss you, mellon nîn.”

I watch Cosima closely. She blinks rapidly and, when she speaks, her voice is scratchy with emotion. “I’ll miss you, too.”

{***}

Orophin and Lavandil stay for dinner. The four of us talk, laugh, and carefully avoid the subjects of our impending departure from each other. When I shut the door behind them, a heavy realization make me want to slump my shoulders.

I will miss my brother.

Of course I am happy for him — he will no longer be separated from his love — but it is still sad to leave him behind, especially as this world becomes more and more perilous. Here in Imladris, he will be out of my control. I won’t be able to keep him safe.

I turn to Cosima, noticing the tracks of tears that run down her cheeks. I sigh, holding a hand out to her which she takes readily.

I pull her into a hug and rest my cheek against the top of her head. “Are you okay?”

She laughs without humor, burying her face in my chest. “Are you?”

I ignore the question. “I know you and Lavandil have become close.”

Cosima sighs, nodding. “I don’t think I actually ever considered that we would be leaving here. All the friendships I’ve made, all the things I’ve come to love about Imladris…I’m going to be leaving it all behind. It’s just,” she sighs again, her arms tightening around my back. “I don’t remember my home, but Imladris has become what I think a home would be.”

I purse my lips, feeling guilty. I didn’t consider how all this would affect her, though, now that I think about it, it is sure to. “Lavandil and Orophin will visit. I am even sure you will see Elrond again before long. And, should you desire it, Lothlórien will be your home. My people will be yours, they will welcome you and care for you as their own. It will become your world as much as it is mine.”

She exhales shakily and smiles up at me, giving me a look of adoration that takes my breath away. I bring a hand to her face, catching the tears before they can run into her smile.

“Thank you,” she breathes. She kisses me quickly on the lips before pulling away, wiping her tears and rolling her eyes. “Come on, I’ll stop crying so we can finish dinner.”

I laugh and follow her back to the table.

{***}

The next morning, I meet Cosima at her door. She smiles up at me, eyes still glazed slightly with sleep. She steps back, pulling the door with her to allow room for me to enter. Upon seeing the guest I’ve brought with me, her eyes widen.

“Good morning, Cosima,” I greet swiftly, knowing she won’t be pleased with my ambush.

Predictably, she purses her lips together, crosses her arms over her chest, and raises an eyebrow in my direction. “I told you, I will not be wearing that bulky, hot armor for the trip. There’s no need to bring a seamstress to measure me.”

At my side, Galina the seamstress shifts uncertainly.

I fix my gaze on Cosima, clasping my hands behind my back. “And I told you that you will be traveling as a member of my company, and as a member of my company, you are required to adhere to safety measures that I, the commander, deem fit.”

I’m used to glares.

Enemies, wardens, my brothers when they were children — all have given me scathing looks before, and it never bothered me. But the fire behind Cosima’s eyes puts all that experience to shame.

I remind myself to stand my ground.

Regardless of her personal feelings towards the armor, it will keep her safe. And I’m not even putting her in that much — just chainmail over her neck, arms, and torso. Alexander will be required to wear it as well.

She knows this of course, and still isn’t pleased.

But she throws her arms out to the side, allowing the seamstress to do her work. She stares me down the whole time, eyes narrowed, chin raised, face impassable.

Is this what I look like?

Galina takes the measurements and leaves quickly, off to Alexander’s chambers and then to the armory. I talked to Alexander earlier and he has no qualms with wearing the armor, so why is Cosima putting up such a fight?

The door closes behind Galina, and Cosima crosses her arms over her chest. “One of these days, I’m going to ambush you, see how you like it,” she mutters, continuing to glare at me.

I give her a stern look. “You know my reasoning and I will not be moved on this. In Imladris or Lothlórien it is different, but on the road, I am in charge of ensuring the safety of every member of my company. Were you anyone else, I would still insist on the armor — no one travels without it. You can imagine I am doubly focused on safeguarding the woman I love.”

Her expression softens. She smiles somewhat begrudgingly. “I guess I can’t fault you for that.”

I return her smile and take a step in her direction, pleased to be on good terms again.

The eyebrow shoots back up and her eyes narrow once more.

I freeze mid-step.

“But I can fault you for showing up so early in the morning with Galina without a minute of warning! I’m still in my pajamas!”

I raise an eyebrow to match hers. “I highly doubt you would have gone to the seamstress willingly.”

She huffs. “Maybe I would had I known the alternative was a sneak attack.” But despite her words, the playfulness returns to her eyes. She extends a hand in my direction. I close the distance between us, taking the offering gladly.

I decide to push my luck. “I must admit, I find the sight of you in your pajamas quite endearing.”

Cosima snorts, laying her head against my chest. “Yeah, well get ready to be endeared for three weeks straight. I’m only wearing old tunics on the road — I’m not risking ruining any of the new things from Lavandil.” A pause, and she sighs. She moves her head back so she can see me. “What are we going to do on the road?”

I furrow my eyebrows. “I don’t follow your meaning.”

“Are we going to tell your brothers,” she clarifies, shrugging her shoulders, “or are we going to pretend that we haven’t…” She huffs, searching for her words, “changed the nature of our relationship?”

“Right.” I take a deep breath.

I dread telling my brothers. While I am elated at finally being with Cosima, I know my brothers are likely to focus less on my happiness and more on my impending demise. I’m the one in love, and I struggled for months with the reality of my choice. Regardless, it is important to tell them soon. Hiding it would only make it worse. “I would prefer to tell them before we leave Imladris. I don’t want to waste any time with you pretending we’re not together, especially since they’re going to find out eventually, anyway.”

She nods, looking up at me in understanding. “Whenever you’re ready. I suppose we’ll have to tell Alex, too.”

I fight the urge to grimace.

She sees right through it. She laughs, pushing against my chest. “He’s gotten so much better and you know it.”

“True,” I allow. Learning Sindarin and researching his condition have done wanders for his personally — I would say the man is nearly tolerable by now.

Of course, that is likely to change on the road when he is away from his books and under my command.

“Oh, and once we tell your brothers, I want to tell Lavandil, too,” Cosima reminds me. “She’s been rooting for us.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Rooting for us? I didn’t even know she was aware of our mutual interest.”

Cosima grins guiltily. “You may have come up in conversation once or twice.”

I roll my eyes, trying to cover up how pleased I am. “Well, there’s no sense in delaying it. I had planned to dine with my brothers after training tonight. Would you like to join us? We can tell them then.”

She nods, taking a deep breath. “Sounds good. Oh, and I guess Baranor will need a heads up as well.” She scrunches up her eyebrows. “Gosh, that’s a lot of telling. Can’t we just send out a newsletter?”

I laugh, pulling her back against my chest. “If only it were that easy.”

{***}

My brothers and I dine in Cosima’s chambers. Her seating area is larger, the table as well, and I’d rather tell them in the privacy of her room than in the dining hall where anyone could react.

Rumil suspects.

From the moment I asked him to meet in Cosima’s room, suspicion entered his eyes. He had passed through the doorway warily, looking as if he expected some sort of ambush. When he locked eyes with Cosima, he had given her a meaningful, almost pleading look.

Orophin, on the other hand, walks in hesitantly, shooting nerves glances towards Rumil, and I wonder how Rumil took the news of Orophin deciding to stay in Imladris. By the tension I notice between them, it didn’t go exceedingly well.

I feel a bout of anxiety for my youngest brother.

The four of us gather in the seating area. Cosima babbles nervously, telling my brothers every minute detail of her day. They appear politely interested, but I know by the distant looks in both of their eyes that they are lost in their own worries.

No sense in dragging this out.

I can tell I surprise everyone when I take the spot on the couch next to Cosima rather than the empty armchair. My brothers freeze, exchanging a look. Cosima glances up at me, her eyes wide and nervous.

I take a deep breath. “Orophin, Rumil, I suspect you have been aware of my feelings for Cosima for quite some time. I discovered recently that she returns them, and we have committed ourselves to each other.”

Silence.

Rumil clenches his jaw. “Have you bonded?”

“No—“

“—then there is still time!”

“But I intend to,” I finish, hating the way my youngest brother visibly wilts at my words.

With wide eyes, Orophin glances between myself and Cosima. “My friend, you know I mean no offense, but—” he shakes his head, turning his whole focus to me. “Haldir you cannot tie yourself to a human. You will die.”

Cosima sucks in a sharp breath, eyes falling to the ground.

I take her hand in mine, keeping my gaze steady on my brother. “I know.”

“Then you are a fool!” Rumil’s shout shocks us all with its volume. He stands and grips the back of the chair, looking ill.

Orophin groans, resting his elbow on his knee and bringing a hand to rub at his temple. “You have to know how ridiculous this is. There are a thousand other elleth out there. Save your eternity and use it to find one you could love.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Could you leave Lavandil behind and search for another?”

Orophin grits his teeth. “That’s different. Our lives are compatible.”

“Are they? Though you are both eldar, your relationship is not without sacrifice. For years, the two of you sacrificed being with each other to continue your usual lives. Now, you’re sacrificing your home, your career, and your family because your love is worth it. Allow me the dignity to choose my own sacrifice.”

Orophin’s breath catches in his throat. His pained face falls into hopelessness, and he shrugs his shoulders. “So we are to resign ourselves to a handful of years left with you?”

In my hand, Cosima’s begins to shake.

I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss on its back. I address my brothers once more. “I have had over three thousand years in this world. I count myself blessed to spend the remainder of those days, however long they may be, in the company of those I love.”

Orophin’s mouth goes slack. He looks between Cosima and myself, and, vaguely, I wonder what sort of picture we paint. An elf and a human.

“I cannot say that I am not saddened by your choice, nor that I understand it. But if it has to be a human, then I am glad it is you, Cosima.” Orophin, Valar bless him, tries for a smile in Cosima’s direction. It’s strained and sad, but it’s an effort — one I am very thankful for.

Rumil hasn’t moved.

Cosima looks to him, worry in her eyes, and I remember how close she and my brother are. Right from the start, he has been one of her closest friends, and it must hurt her to be at odds with him, to know that something she can’t control is causing him pain.

When she speaks, her voice is fragile, vulnerable. “Rumil?”

He continues to grip the back of the chair and looks to the ground, avoiding our eyes. He grits his teeth. “Stay away from me, both of you.”

And he storms out of the room.

A/n Likes, comments, and reblogs are always cherished <3 Hope you’re doing well! (But its okay if you’re not!)

|next chapter|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist @that-cute-stranger

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff @sleepyamygdala @thranduilseyebrows

**Strikethrough means Tumblr won’t let me tag you :(**

#haldir #haldir x ofc #haldir x oc #haldir fanfic #haldir fanfiction #rumil #orophin #double heart

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Welcome Home (Part One)

(NOT MY GIF)

Summary: After not speaking to her brothers for over a year, Peyton Rhodes’ life is turned upside down when her boyfriend of four years cheats on her. She uproots her life with WWE and returns home to Atlanta. She finds herself among great friends and she is finding herself again after being lost for so long.

WORD COUNT: 2,624 (well shit). 

Pairings: Cody Rhodes x OFC (Sister), Brandi Rhodes x OFC (sister), Dustin Rhodes x OFC (Sister), past Seth Rollins x OFC, future Kenny Omega x OFC (maybe?), MJFx OFC( maybe?) Could end up being Matt Jackson x OFC (who knows) let the writing gods surprise us.

WARNINGS: explicit language, mentioned cheating, possible future smut (Warnings are subject to change as I continue writing and will be updated as needed).

A/N: This has been a WIP for over a year now. This will be multiple parts. It will be a slow burn. (MAYBE) I’m a sucker for the friends to lovers trope. Please do not think that this reflects my feels toward a certain wrestler (Seth). This story is strictly fiction. I do not own any of the characters except for my OFC(s). Please, please, please, give me feedback. I’m slowly working myself back into the fanfic world. <3

“Cody was right.” I cried as soon as my brother’s wife answered the phone. I hadn’t spoken to my brothers since they left WWE. Cody was upset that I wouldn’t leave with him. Brandi was my way of communication with them. She’d call at least twice a week. This week was different. 

“I caught him. I went to congratulate him after his win over Finn and they were,” I sniffled, hurt coming over me again. “It was Mandy. I thought she was my friend.” I explained to my sister in law.

“Pey, I am so sorry. Please come home. You know AEW has a spot for you whenever you want it.” Brandi offered. It was the same thing she said to me every week, but now I’m ready. 

“I just don’t know why.” I cried. “I was the perfect girlfriend. I basically put my career on hold for him. I thought he was, I thought he was it for me.” Brandi had said that they were going to be home for Cody’s birthday in a few weeks and invited me to come to the party. 

“I’ll talk to Hunter.” I choked out. 

Luckily, my contract was almost up and as soon as Vince heard I didn’t want to re-sign, he settled for my release. We didn’t have the best relationship, but Hunter advocated for me stating that it was best for the company as well as myself. He knew the situation and didn’t blame me for wanting to go.

I knew I had to go back one day. I just never thought it would be this soon. I parked my car in the drive. I could hear Pharaoh announcing my arrival before I could make it to the door. I made my way up the sidewalk to the porch. I took a deep breath and knocked. 

Brandi opened the door immediately. “Well I'll be damned.” She said, “I can’t believe you came!” I smiled, embracing my brother’s wife. 

“Like I would miss my big brother’s 35th birthday.” I lied and she knew it. If Seth hadn’t cheated on me, I wouldn’t be here. 

Brandi led me inside where there were some guests who had gathered in the foyer. Brandi introduced me quickly, leading me through to Cody. “Hey, babe. Your surprise is here.” Cody, who was standing by the fireplace, talking to Dustin, turned and saw me. 

Awkwardly, I raised a hand to wave. “Hi.” I whispered. Cody sat down his drink and walked over to me. I expected him to cuss and yell, but instead, he threw his arms around me, hugging me tightly. 

“Peyton, I'm so happy you’re here.” He whispered. Dustin came up behind him. 

“Long time, no see sis. You know, they invented this thing called a phone. You should look into it. Call your big brothers sometime.” Dustin fussed before hugging me too. 

“It is really good to see you guys.” I tried to hold back the tears, but some escaped anyway. “How have you been? AEW has really taken off huh?” I said making small talk.

Cody nodded, “Yeah, I have the best business partners. I can’t wait for you to meet them.” Looking at my brother, he was truly happy. WWE had given him a few more stress lines, but seeing him now, you couldn’t tell. 

He grabbed my hand, pulling me to follow him. He led me to Matt and Nick Jackson, standing with Kenny Omega and Adam Page. “Guys! Guys! Look who decided to show her face.” Cody beamed, smiling big. The four guys waved. 

“Finally! We get to meet the prodigal sister.” Kenny Omega spoke first. 

“Peyton, these are the guys.” Cody pointed to each of them. “Matt. Nick. Kenny. Adam.” 

“Nice to meet y’all finally. I watch your show every week. You are all very talented.” They all mumbled a “thank you” in tandem. 

The rest of the evening went by smoothly. We all sat and talked. Getting to know The Elite was amazing. It was almost as if I hadn’t been AWOL for a year and a half.  When the party was over, I was helping Brandi clean up. 

“Pey, you don’t have to help. You’re a guest.” She said, grabbing the glasses from my hands. I shook my head.

“I’m family. And family helps.” I smiled, taking the glasses back and continued to the kitchen. Cody walked in behind me with plates. 

“Hey,” he started, “Thank you for coming.” He finished, placing the plates in the dishwasher. I added my glasses. 

“I’m sorry.” I blurted out, turning to face him. Cody looked at me, confused. “I should have left with you. You were right about that place. My career, my relationship, everything, became a shitshow after you left.” tears began to fall. 

“Pey, it’s okay. I’m just happy you’re here now.” Cody wiped the tears away. 

“Code. I lost my title. Seth cheated on me, and I barely got any TV time.” Cody scoffed. He never liked Seth.

“He cheated on you?” Cody growled, and paced around the room. 

I nodded, “I caught him. I went to congratulate him after his win one night and they were,” I sniffled, explaining to Cody. “I don’t know why.” I cried. “And then I lost my title, and then stopped getting TV time, unless I was on Seth’s arm.” I darted my eyes to the ground. “We still had to work together. After everything, I had to pretend like we were the perfect couple, until my last appearance.” Cody pulled me into a tight hug. 

“I pissed a lot of people off with the way I left. I’m so sorry that affected you.” he whispered into my hair, like it was his fault. 

“I don’t blame you, Code. I was granted my release.” I mumbled into his chest. He pulled back. 

“What?” His eyes were wide. 

“I asked for my release and Hunter pushed it through. I’ll be a free agent in 90 days” I explained. Cody smiled like a Cheshire cat.  

“Babe! Dustin! Get in here!” Cody yelled, startling me. The both of them came running, looking for an emergency, but they only saw Cody pouring champagne for a toast. Confused looks covered their faces. 

Cody gave everyone a flute and started a toast. “To our baby sister, the newest AEW superstar.” Brandi squealed and hugged me tight. The guys joined in. 

I was finally home. 

It was hard, walking away from my life in WWE; However, finding my place within the Elite was easy. Especially with Kenny Omega. He quickly became one of my closest friends. The next 3 months were the best of my life. The break from wrestling gave my body and my heart time to heal. Everyone did their best to hide that I was coming to AEW, even leaving fake trails that I was going back to NJPW.

After working out the details of my contract, I was officially signed with AEW. Cody wanted me to make a surprise entrance, interrupt one of his segments. Creative loved the idea of brother and sister reuniting, but they wanted to make it interesting. When my debut date came, I couldn’t have been any more nervous.

Sitting in catering, I was alone, lost in thought, picking at my food. It had been a long journey here, but they made it. AEW came to life and it was thriving. Double or nothing had passed, and that meant tonight was Dynamite.

“Guess who?” Someone had snuck up on me, covering my eyes. I smiled because I knew exactly who it was.

“Hmm, Prince Charming?” I guessed quickly. Kenny placed a sloppy kiss to my cheek.

“Close, but better.” He said uncovering my eyes. “Hey, princess. Just thought I’d come save you from your thoughts. What’s going on in that head of yours right now?” he asked, knowing I’ll tell him, taking the seat next to me. 

I sighed, rubbing my face. “I was thinking about my journey, how I got here.” Kenny nodded, but didn’t say anything. “I was thinking about how I get to see Jon again, since leaving WWE, and I was thinking about Seth.” I finally spit it out. Seth, his name leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

“I knew something was bothering you. Talk to me, doll.”

“I was scrolling through Insta earlier. He’s engaged. I know I shouldn’t care, but I do. Not because I still have feelings for him, but because she is, was, my friend, and I don’t want him to do to her what he did to me.” I explained to him.

“That’s understandable, Pey, but people gotta make their own mistakes. Mandy knows what he did to you and she still said yes, so that’s on her.” Kenny said, ever the voice of reason.

I nodded in agreement with him, knowing he was right. I needed to focus on my new path, my new future.

“Peyton!” Cody called from a distance, Brandi following him. It was time.

Cody stood, center ring, proudly. He had won the TNT title at Double or Nothing. He went on about how he was issuing an open challenge every Wednesday.

I stood nervously behind the curtain, waiting for my cue. I was about to make my debut. My life has been a little crazy since I left WWE behind, but definitely for the better. 

As an avid Fall Out Boy fan, I had struck a deal to have my favorite song as my entrance music. I had been using it for most of my career. The music hit, the crowd went crazy. “Holy Hell, that music can only mean one person. The sister of the American Nightmare. That’s Peyton Rhodes!” JR yelled into his mic as I strolled down the ramp, ignoring the crowd. “Peyton” chants filled the arena as I made my way to the squared circle. 

“Peyton Rhodes has joined  AEW and the crowd couldn’t be happier,” Excalibur added. I walked around the ring to the time keeper, grabbing a mic from Justin, and strolled on toward the ring. 

The music cut, and Cody was first to speak. "Oh yeah. I guess we didn't announce this but Peyton Rhodes is AEW!" The crowd screamed at Cody's news, chanting "AEW". 

I soaked in the cheers because I knew it was all about to change. I had been a face for most of my pro-wrestling career, and now I finally get to pursue the heel turn my fans had been begging for. I took in a deep breath and adjusted my leather jacket. 

“Oh, Atlanta, shut the hell up!” I groaned into the mic. I revelled in the audible gasp that could be heard. “That’s right. No more sweet ‘Georgia peach’ Peyton Rhodes. I came to AEW to raise hell, and that’s what I’m going to do.” I wandered around the ring, stopping in front of a camera. “I’m sick and tired of wanting your approval. I’m here to get what I want. And I want it all.” I punctuated as I looked dead into the camera.

“Hear that big brother,” I turned and faced Cody, “Hell just arrived in AEW I hope you’re ready.” I gestured to the crowd, “I hope you’re all ready, because if you thought Cody was a nightmare, wait til you see me, the Dream Killer.” I dropped the mic, and rolled out of the ring. The crowd loved it. “Dream Killer” chants echoed in my ears all the way backstage. 

I was greeted by Dustin, Brandi, and Kenny. “That was perfect, Pey, they loved it.” Kenny said as soon as I was in sight. I grinned, running up to him, jumping into his arms for a hug. 

“The crowd loved you. They’ve been hoping for this heel turn since your WWE debut.” Cody said, smiling from ear to ear as he returned to the back after finishing his promo.

“For real, Pey! You pull off the ‘heel’ thing. I can’t wait to work on your wardrobe!” Brandi squealed, embracing me in a dancing hug. “Just think about the shoes, Pey, the shoes.” Brandi was way more excited about the outfits than the actual turn. She had helped me pick the one I was wearing. Black jean shorts, a front-zip black and white crop top, leather jacket, and black boots. 

“I can’t wait to see where this takes me.” I said before we were joined by the rest of The Elite.  

Nick was the first to speak. “Not bad, Rhodes. You might be a better heel than your brother here.” He elbowed Cody in the ribs.

Matt nodded in agreement, “For real Peyton, the crowd was so hyped for that turn.” He said with a soft smile, bringing me in for a quick hug. 

I turned to face everyone. “Thanks guys. All of you. You gave me this chance.” I thanked them, “I promise I won’t let you down.” 

“You’re a great addition to the AEW family.” Adam complimented, “Come on Ken, we got a match to get ready for.” he said before walking away. Kenny gave me one last hug before following him.

Cody and Brandi also parted as she had a segment coming up, leaving me with the Young Bucks. “Come on, Pey, lets celebrate!” We had walked back to catering where some more of the AEW stars were waiting. In the back, I spotted the one person I couldn’t wait to see again. I told The Bucks I’d catch up with them. 

“Jon!” I screamed, almost running to him. When he saw me rushing toward him, he opened his arms, inviting me in for a hug. Hugging him was a blast from the past. 

“Peyton fucking Rhodes. I heard rumors you were coming. Sweetheart, you knocked them dead.” He spoke into my hair. I gave him one more tight squeeze before pulling away. “Well, you look great.” He said, gesturing to my outfit. 

“I’m heel now. Finally.” I boasted. I’ve been waiting for this for the longest time and no one was taking it away from me. Jon and I talked, catching up. I asked about Renee and he lit up. He was happy and that’s all I wanted for him. He was finally able to be the fighting champion everyone knew he could be. 

“What about Seth? What happened? The last time I spoke to him, he said you guys were happy and he had bought a ring.” Jon asked, and it knocked the breath out of me. I knew he would ask, but I wasn’t expecting him to mention a ring. 

“He cheated on me. With Mandy. They’re engaged now.” I said without choking up, which was a good sign. I could see the disappointment well up in Jon’s eyes. 

“You were always too good for him.” I knew he and Seth were still good friends, but I appreciated the words nonetheless. Jon gave me one last hug before he got called away for his match, leaving me alone in catering again. 

I found a table close to a TV so I could watch the end of Kenny and Adam’s match. They were well on their way to becoming tag team champions. I started thinking about what Jon had said about Seth, about him buying a ring. I couldn’t believe it. He was going to ask me to marry him and I would have said yes, had I not found him with Mandy. I was pulled from my thoughts by my phone vibrating. It was Seth. 

I saw your debut. 

You look good. 

You’re gonna be a great heel.

I miss you. 

I wish you would talk to me and let me explain. 

I read and reread the messages a hundred times before replying. 

Okay, Seth. When and where?

#kenny omega imagine #Kenny Omega #kenny omega fic #cody rhodes #cody rhodes imagine #wrestling imagine #aew imagine #aew fanfiction #dustin rhodes #brandi rhodes #friends to lovers #Welcome home #kat writes #kenny omega smut #matt jackson #Nick Jackson #Adam Page #jon moxley #seth rollins #kenny omega x ofc

[atths--twice]

An Unexpected Discovery

An alternate universe in which Mulder and Scully are college professors working in buildings across from one another. They have become close, but one day, he learns something about her he never would have expected.

A couple of days ago, @msgilliana posted a tweet about an AU involving Mulder and Scully which led to a mini story being created by both of us. People asked for a REAL story, but it wasn’t my baby, I had only added a bit to an adorable idea. I suggested she and I collaborate and we two women, who were “too busy right now,” cranked out a 7,700 word story in two days. 

Hope you all enjoy! 

Fox Mulder knew the start of the new academic year could be daunting for new faculty: Am I teaching this class correctly? Is my syllabus adequate? Where the hell do I park?

When he saw one person in particular however, he knew she meant business. They never technically met, but it was more of a ‘we parked next to each other and your building is right next to mine, so we might as well chat’ situation.

“Hi,” he’d said when he saw her, the first of them to speak. He had been drawn to her beauty, her red hair causing her to stand out.

“Hello,” she’d responded.

“Are you new?” he’d asked.

She pushed a stray piece of that beautiful red hair behind her ear. “Is it that obvious?”

“Oh no, I just have an eidetic memory and haven’t seen you before.” She was impressed, and her face revealed as much before he asked another question.

“What do you teach?”

“A mix. Some general physics, some intro to modern physics. You?”

“Wow, that’s quite impressive. I teach psych. Intro, abnormal, and social. Most people think it’s a ‘soft’ science, but I think it’s pretty important.”

“Psychology is interesting to be fair. Why do people do what they do, what determines our likes and dislikes, or even hyperfixations. And that’s just scratching the surface.”

“I have never met anyone from the science department who sees it that way. It’s quite refreshing, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“Well, my sister’s very into feelings, the energy of the planets, all that kind of stuff. She and I are very close. Well… this is my building.” She pointed to the one right next to the one he would be entering.

“And this is mine. How convenient. I’ll see you around Dr…”

“Scully. Dana Scully.”

“Fox Mulder.” He offered his hand and she shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Mulder.”

“Oh please, no ‘Dr.’ That’s so boringly formal. ‘Mulder’ is fine,” he had joked with a mock shiver.

“Then you can call me ‘Scully.’” She chuckled and then smiled at him. As he stared at her, he couldn’t help but notice the presence of a beauty mark above her top lip. She had covered it with makeup and he didn’t understand why she would, it was adorable and also incredibly sexy.

Oh, maybe that’s why, he thought, knowing how men could behave.

Pushing aside those thoughts, he smiled as they reached their respective buildings and separated, walking to their offices.

Over time, they’d gotten to know more about each other. He knew she was twenty six and had received her doctorate two years prior. She was Catholic with two older siblings, a brother and a sister, the latter of whom had an interest in all things extraterrestrials, and she also had one younger brother.

Before the end of her first teaching year, they’d managed to park next to each other almost every day. They would chat for the few minutes their walk to the building afforded them, until they had to separate to their own offices. They both looked forward to that time together each day.

At the year's commencement, they had sat next to each other, and she looked extraordinarily extravagant in her doctoral robe and cap. She would say the same about him.

The following school year, they had gone from their morning chats to leaving at the same time as well. It quickly turned into one accompanying the other to their office and continuing their conversations. While almost polar opposites, they felt comfortable with each other and talked about any and everything.

Of all the little things he knew about her, the one thing Mulder knew Scully prided herself on most was punctuality. He knew she arrived in the parking lot at exactly 8:05 every Tuesday and Thursday before her first class began at 8:30. The other three days, she arrived at exactly 9:25 am for her 10 am class. His classes were all later in the day, but he came in early for office hours and to get work done before his classes.

A couple of months later, however, it was 9:27 on a Wednesday morning and she was nowhere to be found. In the nearly one and a half years since she’d been teaching, Scully had never been late. Though he was curious, he decided to head into his office and start his day.

His work, however, didn’t hold his attention. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. What was she doing? Was she sick? Was there a family emergency? She had mentioned that her siblings lived all across the country. Her older brother Bill was in California where he was stationed with his wife Tara. Melissa was traveling, “finding herself” Scully had stated with a slight eye roll, and Charlie was in New York with his girlfriend Elaine. Her parents were in Annapolis, about an hour's drive from the school.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he decided to email her, something he’d never done nor had any need to do.

Scully,

Are you okay?

Mulder

He forewent formalities because he felt they were on friendly enough terms, or at least he had assumed so. They hadn’t ever socialized outside of school events, but he had lost count of the high school and college friends he no longer spoke to or had only seen on campus.

He was about to get ready to teach his first class of the day when he checked his email one more time and saw a reply from her.

I’m fine.

Nothing further, not even her name, but at least he now knew she was okay. Or at least, Mulder hoped so. She would’ve said if something was wrong.

Right?

He didn’t sleep well that night, his brain unable to stop thinking and wondering if she was okay.

The next day, she still hadn’t arrived on time. He was in his office, about to send her another email, when he heard a car door slam around 8:15. The building was fairly soundproof, but the windows were not.

Curious, he got up from his desk and looked out the window. Seeing Scully’s car, he immediately smiled. She was a little late, but she was there. His brows then furrowed when she opened the door to the backseat. Bending inside, she was there for nearly a minute.

When she pulled back, he let out a gasp as she had reappeared with a small child in her arms. He could see the little girl was limp and appeared to be asleep. Observing Scully’s struggle to get her bags from the front seat while also carrying the child, he quickly left his office.

He tried to keep his pace slow, so as to not disrupt his colleagues, but his mind was racing with a million questions. Mulder made it outside, but didn’t see Scully. Assuming she must’ve gotten to her office already, he hurried up the stairs; he was out of breath when he reached the third floor.

Looking around, he heard a ding, announcing the arrival of the elevator down the hall. The doors opened and he spotted her shining red hair as she exited the elevator, and turned toward her office. Speed walking, he made it to her office at the same moment that she did.

“Oh, God. Mulder, you scared me,” she whispered when she saw him, breathing quickly as she reached for her keys.

“Sorry,” he whispered, matching her volume.

Scully took a minute to find her keys, only having one hand free for the action. She finally got her office unlocked, the little girl sleeping through it all. Propping the door open, she left the light off and set her bags down, a bright pink Dora the Explorer backpack standing out. She picked it up and held it out to him.

“Can you…” she asked him, nodding at the child in her arms.

“Oh. Um, sure. What…”

“Her blanket, please.”

He unzipped the bag and pulled out a small blue blanket with Thomas the Train across it. Versatile, I like it, thought Mulder. He couldn’t help but feel his heart grow as he watched the way she was with the little girl he assumed had to be her daughter.

“Mommy…” the toddler suddenly croaked.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay.” Scully’s voice was soothing and soft for the girl as she ran a hand across her daughter’s long loose curls. It was different from her no-nonsense, low-pitched professor voice, and it made his heart ache.

She mouthed a thank you to Mulder and took the blanket from him. The little girl whimpered as she was covered in the blanket and snuggled closer to her mother. Scully rocked her and smiled at Mulder.

“I’m sure you have some questions.”

“Just a few.”

She sighed and looked at her child. “Please, sit.”

He obeyed, watching as she carefully sat in her leather desk chair.

“How old is she?” Mulder asked.

“Almost three.”

“Wow, you’ve got your hands full. What’s her name?”

“Emily.” Scully smiled as she rubbed Emily’s back over the blanket.

Awkward silence washed over them as they both ignored the elephant in the room. Scully wasn’t married and didn’t wear a ring. She had never talked about her child before, let alone a partner that could be the child’s father.

“You’ve shared so much, why not her?”

She sighed again. “I don’t know. I guess I thought… that you would judge me. Everyone else sure does, except Missy and Charlie.”

“You know I’d never.”

“I do, but I was also worried. And I guess I wanted to keep her secret for as long as possible.” She avoided his gaze as she spoke.

“I don’t want to sound insensitive, but I do have one more burning question…”

“You want to know about her dad,” Scully guessed and he looked at her sadly and shrugged, not speaking the words, but obviously curious.

“His name’s Ethan and he had been my boyfriend since grad school. I found out I was pregnant the day I defended my dissertation. We broke up about halfway through my pregnancy. He hadn’t ever wanted children, but also didn’t want to use protection. I… well… now Em’s here. That’s the extremely simplified version.”

Mulder’s eyes were wide as he took in the information. He thought she was pretty badass to be able to raise a kid on her own. He could also hear how she may feel shame about it, because of others' comments and also how society tended to treat women who were single parents.

She sighed and he realized that he hadn’t said anything in response. Feeling like a bit of a jackass, he opened his mouth to speak, but she suddenly stood up and shook her head.

“Sorry to cut this short,” she said, glancing at her watch. “But my first class starts soon and I need to get her stuff to bring.”

He shook his head and stood as well. “I can watch her, if it would make it easier for you.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t-“

“I insist. Besides, I don’t think she’ll like listening to her mother talk about super smart science stuff.”

“It’ll probably bore her to death,” she agreed with a chuckle.

“Then it’s settled then.”

“Are you sure?” Her expression gave away her uncertainty, her eyes searching his face.

“Really, I’d love to. I promise we’ll just stay in here while you teach.”

“You need to be in your office, Mulder. I can’t do that to you.”

“Then we can go to mine. Look, Scully, I promise we’ll be okay, okay?”

She sighed for the third time. “Okay. I should wake her though, let her know I’m leaving and let her see you. I don’t want her waking up without me and crying. Hey, Em,” she said softly, gently patting her back, waking the child.

“Mama…”

“Hey honey, Mama has to teach her class now. You’re going to spend some time with Mulder today, okay? He’s mommy’s friend.”

The toddler lifted her head and looked at him fearfully, tears running down her cheeks.

“Hey, Emily,” Mulder greeted. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you like Dora? She’s pretty cool.” Emily didn’t answer, but embraced Scully tighter.

“I know baby, but Mommy really needs to get to class. Mulder is a very nice man and he will take care of you. He has fish in his office. Do you want to see them?” She nodded, her eyes still full of tears.

Emily was gently passed to Mulder, Scully making sure she was wrapped in her blanket. The little girl sniffed and whimpered as she watched her mom blow her a kiss and then leave the room, thanking him once again.

“Would you like to go on a trip, Emily?” he asked, hoping to ease the tension. She looked at him, her expression unsure and still slightly fearful. “Let’s go see the fish, okay?” She nodded and he beamed.

He grabbed her backpack and swung it onto his back, closing the door to Sculy’s office as they walked out. He locked the door with the keys he’d taken off her desk, knowing she would come to his before coming back to her own.

Emily was trembling slightly in his arms and he held her closer as they walked to the elevator.

“Would you like to go outside? It feels nice out today.”

Emily slowly nodded her head, her thumb on the tip of her bottom lip, as she put her head on his shoulder. He stepped out of the elevator and then the building. He walked into the little courtyard separating the science and education/psychology buildings. The little girl lifted her head just enough to look around.

“‘Nola,” Emily said quietly, as she pointed with her little finger.

“What was that, Em?” Mulder asked, at a loss of what she was trying to say.

“‘Nola,” she repeated louder.

He looked at the direction she was pointing and chuckled when he realized what she meant. “Oh, you like the magnolia tree?”

Mulder was impressed by her intelligence. Of course, her mother had gotten her doctorate at twenty-four, which was not common amongst the other faculty. Even he hadn’t received his until just before she had started teaching, and he was thirty, nearly thirty-one.

“You’re very smart, Emily,” Mulder praised, but the little girl was uninterested. She put her head back on his shoulder, falling asleep before they made it to the office.

As he arrived at the door, he realized he had left his door unlocked when he found it hanging open and one of his teaching assistants, Tyler, was grading papers.

“Oh, sorry Dr. M, but the door was unlocked and…” Tyler started, but was confused as he saw Emily in his arms.

“I’m watching her for a friend,” Mulder said simply, putting her backpack down on the desk. Tyler nodded and went back to grading papers.

Emily continued to sleep, Mulder holding her as he sat down at his desk. Even as he held her, he managed to send a slowly-typed email to a student about the midterm, enter the test grades Tyler had given him, and sent out an announcement to the class about their extra credit assignment.

Looking down at Emily, he smiled. Other than her blonde hair, she was a mirror image of Scully and he couldn’t imagine anyone but her having a sweeter child.

Tyler left soon after he was done grading, smiling and nodding silently as he walked out the door. Emily began to stir, her eyes slowly opening and taking in her surroundings.

“Hey there, Em,” he said softly, and the toddler mumbled, clutching her blanket closer.

“Do you want to see the fish now?” She nodded and he stood up, his back protesting at the position he had been in for the past forty five minutes. He shifted her to hold her better and walked across the room to show her the fish.

“Oh!” she said, watching the fancy guppies he had bought swimming around the tank. “Fishies!” She pointed at the tank and he grinned.

“Yup! Those are fancy guppies. Can you say guppy?”

“Guppy.”

“Good job,” he said, smiling again and rubbing her back. “See that one there? The blue one with the red spotted tail? That’s my favorite one. Watch how fast he swims.”

“Fish swim fast,” she agreed with a nod and he chuckled, shifting her again.

“They are fast. Good job, Em! Gimme five.” She laughed as she lifted her tiny hand and met Mulder’s large one.

“Having fun?” Scully asked and they turned to look at her, standing in the doorway with a smile.

“Mommy!” Emily said, trying to scramble out of Mulder’s arms. He laughed as he set her down and she ran to Scully, who lifted the squealing toddler in her arms.

“Hey, baby.” Scully kissed Emily’s cheek and looked at Mulder. “Were you good for Mulder?”

Emily vigorously nodded her head while Mulder laughed. “She was very good. She’s a smart kid.”

“She takes after her mother.” The two adults smiled and Emily wrapped her arms around Scully’s neck. “Thank you for looking after her. I only had the one class today, but she was sick yesterday and I had babysitter problems and-“

“I promise it was no trouble and completely my pleasure. She slept most of the time, but she liked the fish. The guppies, right Em?”

“Guppy,” she said with a nod, pointing at the tank. “Guppy fish, Mommy.”

“Yes, I know. I knew you would like them.” Scully smiled. “Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Umm. I… no, I mean yes I’m free.”

“Well, let me buy you a drink. It’s the least I can do to thank you for your help.”

His heart raced. This was the moment he’d been waiting for since he had first looked at her.

“Um, sure, I mean… yeah, I’d love to,” he stammered.

Great job, doofus, he admonished himself, inwardly rolling his eyes.

“Great. I’ll sort out a babysitter for tonight and I’ll see you at six? I’ll send you my address.”

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Scully was inviting him out on a date. Did she see it that way? They’d never spent time together outside of university functions, but he hoped she’d see it as a date, as he would love for it to be so.

He smiled as he nodded and she smiled back. She lifted Emily a little higher, telling her about her class as Emily continued staring at the fish. The way she doted on her daughter and how her red hair shone in the light, he could feel he was already falling for her.

Yeah… he was in big trouble.

#The X-Files #XF Fanfic #Fanfic Collab #Dana Scully #Fox Mulder #Emily Sim #Modern AU #College Professors #First Meetings #Getting to Know Each Other

[darkpoisonouslove]

Witch x Witch Hunter AU

You’d be correct in guessing this is a new AU that I have come up with and I have zero idea what to title it yet! I just have to talk about it and that is why we’re doing a different WIP Wednesday this week.

To give a little history on this, I watched a review of a book that I haven’t read (Serpent & Dove) about 3 weeks ago. And it wasn’t until a week later (on my birthday actually) that I went to bed and randomly thought of a way to fix up the driving event of the book. From there my AU quickly spiraled into a novel-length story that I’m piecing together relatively quickly. This has been on my mind ever since I came up with it and I am obsessed with how it’s actually turning out. I am less obsessed with the fact that it will most certainly be 40+ chapters but what can you do about it? The story demands what it demands. I have written down half a notebook for this already and I have managed to get to the outline of chapter 18. I have solid ideas up to chapter 20 and a general sense of how the rest is going to go plus more emotional development of the characters as well as of their relationship.

To summarize briefly - Griffin is a witch who is looking to access Eraklyon’s top secret library/spell reserve. That leaves her having to face Valtor who is a witch hunter. Griffin is in for a nasty surprise when Valtor turns out to have much more powerful magic than she could have anticipated and Valtor is in for a nasty surprise when Griffin manages to stab him with his own blade. In the end of their fight, Valtor captures her and saves her life from the crowd gathering that would have torn her apart. Griffin is a prisoner to the Eraklyon crown and gets sentenced to death at the stake. However, she is offered a deal - marry Valtor to act as his cover for infiltrating the largest and most notorious witch coven and get to live another day. No one’s giving her any guarantees about her safety during the mission or her fate after her job is done and she has a secret she must protect at all costs. To top it all off, the royal family of Domino approaches her with the true agenda behind the mission and she is forced to reevaluate her own priorities and feelings on the public’s general attitude towards witches as well as her interactions with Valtor, who is struggling with the demons of his own past and present.

That was not entirely brief but I have only made it up to chapter 6-7 there. Here is a little sneak peak from chapter 8. Valtor has just informed of all the atrocities the Coven has committed and Griffin is being forced to acknowledge his disgust of witches. Or rather she’s looking for a way to avoid acknowledging it.

“Why would they do that and make everyone hate witches?” As if the general public needed more excuses to murder innocents. Covens were becoming a rarity when the most common safety precaution witches chose to take was solitude. To have the luxury of community and throw it away to make life harder for your own kind, for those witches out there who were on their own... Griffin herself was still worlds away for becoming so jaded by witches’ constant mistreatment that she’d stop caring for the people like herself.

“Because they don’t care about others. Including their own.” Valtor’s eyes had strayed from the memory of her retching over a poor’s girl agonizing death at the stake that should have been hers but there was a certain smugness to his gaze as it challenged her to prove him wrong.

“What if they’re being framed?” That was unlikely but she couldn’t lead a dialogue about nuanced moralities with his refusal to acknowledge the existence of morality in witches. She was having a hard time proving the loyalty between witches as a lone witch and he took her silence as support of his ludicrous notions.

“Why would anyone try to frame them?” Valtor was rather pushing to make her stumble than from honest interest in a continuing debate.

“To get rid of them.” Out of all people she would’ve thought he’d grasp the objective. “I told you - royals fear dark magic because it’s powerful.” Without the shackles that had been on her wrists or the chip in her neck that could blow up her magic Erendor and Samara’s crowns would have been nothing more but clay in her hands. She could have fashioned their demise with the snap of her fingers and the only person that could have stopped her was also forced to obey their will.

“It’s dangerous,” Valtor sounded like they’d put a whole new brain in him instead of just chipping him.

“You have it.” And he was a rare case of voluntary possession of magic. So many witches she’d met would have traded their magic for some peace and safety but he’d chosen to have it instead. He didn’t have the moral high ground to stand on.

“Which is how I know it. Negative emotions are a hazard to society in and of themselves. Add magic that is powered by them and we’re witnessing catastrophe after catastrophe caused by the coven you’re defending.” He wasn’t going to use her own points against her. He’d already stolen her life and her magic.

“If they weren’t necessary, they wouldn’t exist.” Dark magic wouldn’t exist either without purpose but his delusion was far too grand for that to reach through it.

“Are you telling me that I had to go through the...” Valtor swallowed, and then again - all the words he was discarding from fear, “pain I was put through?” He balled his fists and Griffin’s muscles tensed. He needed her alive, not necessarily untouched.

“That’s not what I meant.” How could she tell him he’d deserved to have his body defiled and his heart poisoned with hate? He’d brought on so much pain under the reign of his own. How could she stand to watch that cycle repeat over and over again? “I mean negative emotions in general, not in specific instances. In certain situations it is more appropriate to feel negative emotions. It wouldn’t be right not to feel sad over the loss of someone you care about.”

Valtor looked away again, his hands clasped together in his lap. Whatever he was holding in his white-knuckled grip on himself wasn’t good.

“You would want to be angry at something wrong,” Griffin licked her lips. Finding the similarities between the two of them wasn’t easier for her than it was for him. The song from their car ride was echoing in her head. Their favorite. “Without loneliness you’ll never know you want another’s presence. Fear tells you what you need to reshape to have a better life. Without any of that how can you be human?”

Valtor pounced off the bed, shoulders shaking as he turned his back on her like a wall he raised between them. “There was nothing humanly about Belladonna. She was a monster,” his voice was so low it dove below what she could hear every time he lost a grip on the trembling of it.

“Yes, a monster who happened to be a witch.” He hadn’t shown Griffin much humanity either. It only made him more human as he struggled with the weakness he’d forced her to endure as well. “Not all witches are like that. Haven’t you seen positive emotions in me, anything good at all?” Granted, she hadn’t had any reason to smile since she’d met him but that just made her more human, too, as she pushed through to find some sliver of happiness or at least something to hold on to.

Valtor whipped around, the motion so abrupt that Griffin’s stomach curled in a ball as she held her breath. He was going to crumble in pieces right there in the middle of their hotel room.

“That’s different,” Valtor croaked out, the words coming out as if he was chewing glass while he spoke just to shred them. His eyes were so wide his face had to have changed proportions permanently to accommodate his bewilderment.

“It is because you’ve never spent enough time with a witch to see anything but terror and aggression.” Griffin had to swallow tears. If not for him, then at least for the witches he’d tortured and killed just because of the evil he’d been raised with. “I am capable of all the same emotions that you feel and so are other witches. Maybe not all of them, but we’re not all evil either.” She’d caught him before he’d frozen in his own space of mind again. She had to keep him on that thin edge where she’d gotten him to meet her world. “Anyone who knows you’re a demon would think you’re an abomination, too. But you’re not, are you? You can feel something good.” Whatever sick pleasure or relief he got from murdering was not something she’d count even if it were the first thing coming to mind. But she’d seen him relax as he’d sat in the driver’s seat, had seen him tap his fingers on the steering wheel in tact with the music, had seen him radiate joy when he’d been in his element.

Valtor’s voice was hardly a whisper as his gaze burned into her eyes. “I don’t know. What does your book say?”

Griffin clutched at the pages to keep the book in her lap as she staggered. She’d pushed against the world telling her she was a monster but Valtor had only had the strength to free himself from his abuser, not from the darkness instilled in him as well. “What does your heart say?”

He gave her a soulless chuckle. “Which one? The one I ate or the one that was eaten?” His fingers twitched and closed into his shirt. He had to pry it out of his grip with his other hand to avoid tearing it off to reopen the scar on his chest. “I don’t think either one of them has felt anything good, ever.”

“There’s always a first time, right?” She was a first for him no matter what he said. Their marriage was just a cover but the blade in his hand had been real, and his murderous intent had been as tangible as the shackles on her wrists suppressing her magic. And he’d dropped it before she’d been any use for his mission.

Valtor didn’t say anything but his peace of mind was restored to let him sit back on the bed next to a witch he had to share it with.

#winx club #winx griffin #winx valtor #griffin x valtor #covenshipping #witch x witch hunter au #my wips #my fanfic #wip wednesday #excerpt #snippet #fanfic snippet

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch13: Crazy Days, But You’ll Get Me Through

Chapter Summary: Frankie boi be loving Sundays…and Mondays and Tuesdays and Wednesday and Thursdays and Fridays and Saturdays.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW,NO UNDER 18s)

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: And we’re launching into Part 2! Jumping forward a few Months to March 2018, and a lot has changed for Friss! 

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 12

 March 2018

Sundays were fast becoming Frank's favourite day of the week. The one day out of seven where no one needed to be anywhere. There was no work, no school, no horse yard to sort. He was free to lay in bed until mid-morning, snuggled up to his girl until either his bladder or his stomach or Mary dictated that he needed to move.

Sundays simply consisted of lazy morning sex, snuggles, lazing by the pool or the hot-tub in the afternoon, maybe a trip to the beach and then Verity's famous roast dinner before crashing in front of the TV and heading back to bed ready for Monday, whereby the hectic week schedule would start again.

Yup, Frank loved Sundays.

But if he was honest, he kinda liked every other day of the week too. It hadn’t taken long for him and Fliss to fall into a natural and easy routine, and here they were some four and a bit months later. Friday was date night meaning they got a night alone to either go out or sit in the apartment with a take-out or enjoy a BBQ and a bottle of wine and a few beers, just the two of them. Saturdays and Sundays were spent at the Fliss’ place with Mary, and then Fliss stayed at their apartment on a Tuesday and a Wednesday. As Tuesday was the one day a week Frank worked late, Frank would nine times out of ten come home to find Mary doing her homework and Fliss in the kitchen making something for dinner.

If you were looking from the outside-in, it was all so domestic, so mundane, so fucking simple, but he f loved it.

What he also loved was seeing more of his girl as her hours spent at the yard had levelled out too, thanks to a drastic change in the direction her work had taken. After an undercover reporter had visited her yard in January and given an absolutely amazing review, Fliss had found herself inundated with new clients. There were people clamouring for lessons both at the Riding Centre and requesting her to travel to their stables to teach them on their own horses. She was also being asked to school and train peoples horses, back young horses, deal with problem ones and had been turning people down at first due to limited capacity. Seeing her stress about doing so, Bill and Frank had spent two weekends at the beginning of February building another four stables at the back of the private barn for her client's horses and she'd promoted Joanne to Yard Manager, meaning the other woman was now responsible for the day to day management of the stables, organising the staff rotas and scheduling lessons leaving Fliss to concentrate on everything else.

Seeing his girl flourish and her excitement at finally getting her business to where she wanted it to be was something Frank loved to see, and he enjoyed listening to her gush on and on about the horses and her clients, even though he had no idea half the time what she was going on about.

But Sundays…there was none of that to think about. No lunches to make, no Scouts Uniforms to sort, no horses to feed, absolutely fucking nothing to do.

Well, apart from one thing.

He stretched out slightly, and turned onto his side, his arms curling round Fliss as he pulled her closer to him, gently nuzzling into her hair. His eyes still closed,  he heard Thor give a yawn from the basket at the foot of the bed, and then Mary's voice hit his ear as she was talking to Fred in the spare room, well, he supposed it was now her room now. She fell silent again and he knew she'd be watching something on the TV that they'd installed in there for her, or doing some maths puzzles on the laptop. It would keep her occupied for a good hour before she started to kick up a fuss about wanting breakfast. With a soft grin he gently pressed closer to Fliss, kissing up the back of her neck, his hand sliding down the outside of her thigh before he reached the back of her knee. She stirred a little, making a soft noise of contentment as his lips softly kissed beneath her ear and he saw her mouth curve into a smile.

“Morning, Handsome.” She whispered.

“Morning, Beautiful.” His voice was gruff from slip, lips still pressing kisses to her skin, his hand now caressing the inside of her bare thigh. She shifted slightly as he gently grasped at her knee, pulling it back towards him and hooking it over his hip, holding her open for him. His hand gently traced a line down and under the fabric of the shirt she was wearing and she sighed at the feeling of his rough hands being ever so soft as his fingertips danced across the skin below her naval before they dipped into her panties, fingers caressing her warmth. She let out a soft keen as she arched her back slightly, his mouth still nipping at the skin underneath her ear.

“You know,” he purred softly, his fingers continuing their soft, deliberate teasing, “you’re always so gorgeous in the mornings.” “What, complete with bed hair and…” Her words died in her mouth as she let out a squeak when he inserted to fingers into her with a quick flick of his wrist.

“Especially with bed hair.” He grinned, nipping at her ear lobe. He curled his fingers, as if he was beckoning to someone, stroking her spot whilst his palm pressed against her clit. Soon, her hips were moving gently in time with his actions, her soft moans swallowed as she turned her face to press into her pillows.

“Come on, baby.” He encouraged softly, before her lips parted and she gave a sigh of his name, her hand wrapping around his wrist as her eyes fluttered shut and he felt her tightening, squeezing against his fingers and he watched, enjoying the way she came undone with such an easy action. Withdrawing his hand, he shimmied softly, sliding his boxers over his hips before he slid her panties down, and he felt her raise her other leg to slide them down over her knees with her foot, an action he still found ridiculously sexy.

“Minx.” He mumbled, and she let out a soft chuckle as he took her leg and placed it back where it had been. With a slow, soft push forwards and upwards he slid into her, his head dropping forward onto her shoulder, nipping at her skin beneath her shirt as he took a moment to relish how she felt around him, always so tight and deep from this angle. 

His pace was lazy from the off, hardly putting any action into his thrusts, merely rocking his hips upwards, his hand gently grasping at her hip to keep them joined. The arm that was resting under her neck moved and with his hand under her chin he tilted her head round so that he could capture her mouth in a lazy, sloppy kiss that was all tongues.

Fuck, he loved this woman.

His hand slid up her shirt to gently brush against her breast, fingers softly tweaking at her nipple and she groaned into his mouth, Frank’s lips smiling against hers as he repeated the action, a simple move he knew worked her up something ridiculous, and before long she was begging him not to stop, which, of course, he had no intentions of doing. He kept up that soft, languid pace until the end, when her head fell against him and her back arched again, a single cry of his name, “Frankie” escaped her mouth before she let out a low moan and he felt her tightening around him. Her leg shook slightly as her orgasm continued, her moans eventually dying out as, with a few more rolls of his hips he felt his own creeping up. He picked up the pace slightly and his hips stuttered, his rhythm faltered and he tumbled off the precipice he had been teetering on with a soft grunt and a groan of her name, before his head fell forward, resting against the back of her neck.

They were both silent for a while, breathing deeply as they drifted down from their high together, before he gently moved out of her, his arm round her waist pulling her close as she let out a contented sigh.

“Love you.” He said softly, kissing the back of her neck before she turned in his arm, snuggling into his chest.

“Love you more.”

“Uh-uh, not possible.” He said, easily slipping into the well-worn joke argument. They continued to insist each one of them loved the other more until Fliss childishly used the “infinity no come-backs” line and he chuckled, simply holding her close, basking in the feel of her pressed against him.

Yup, Frank fucking loved Sundays.

*****

After a breakfast of pancakes and bacon, eaten around the coffee table in the front room, Mary headed off with Bill and the dogs for a walk along the river and down the boardwalk. Frank picked his laptop up and headed outside with Fliss who stretched out on the outside sofa, nose buried in her latest book on her Kindle. What was such a normal thing for most people in life, had been a pretty big issue to her at first as, the first time she’d picked up a book she’d asked him if he minded if she read for a while, before admitting to him shyly that it was something John had never really liked her doing when she was with him, as he wanted her attention on him all the time. Frank had made a point, therefore, of telling her if she wanted to curl up beside him and use him as a footstool whilst she read for hours on end he didn’t give a shit. In fact, her reading had lead him to re-discover the habit too, but whilst Fliss favoured crime, fantasy or thriller fiction, he preferred to read things based on theories or Philosophy.

But not at that moment, he was still on the search for a new apartment. A search that so far hadn’t thrown anything up.

He sat at the table in the shade and opened up the usual search browsers and started looking at the available list of apartments, googling their location, tracking how far each one was from key places such as his work, Mary’s school, the yard… before letting out a heavy sigh. Fliss glanced up over her shades and frowned.

“What’s wrong?” “Looking for apartments.” He blew out a loud breath, sitting back. “Everything that’s in the areas that are suitable are like sixteen-hundred a month or more.” He scratched at his chin. “I mean, I could stretch to it but it won’t leave a lot spare once the bills and food and stuff are taken care of.”

Fliss watched him as he continued scanning through the pages before he gave another groan and shut the lap top a little heavily. Setting her kindle down, she stood up and made her way over, dropping her hands round his neck.

“Do you need a lot spare?”

“Not really, but it’s nice to have. I’ve been trying to set some aside you know for when Mary gets older and the grants stop but I’ve never really had much to do that with, not until starting this new job anyway.” “Look at you, getting all grown up and responsible.” She teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek and he laughed softly, rubbing her arms.

“You’re clearly a good influence.” He smiled before he bit his lip. “You know, I’m probably just gonna have to suck it up. I can always ask for extra hours I suppose.” “You have a couple of months yet.” Fliss soothed gently. “And, you know, if absolute worst comes to worst you can just move in here. There’s enough room for me back in the house if we need time apart.” Frank turned his head to look at her, a hurt expression on his face. “You think we’d need time apart?” Fliss shook her head “No, I’m just staying we’ve only been together a few months and it’s a bit soon to be thinking about that and...”

As she babbled on he couldn’t keep it up anymore and broke into a laugh.

“Oh,” she slapped his arm as she realised he was teasing and he pushed the chair back further and pulled her down onto his lap, “you’re such a dick.”

“It’s been said.” He nodded, his hand rubbing at her back as she laughed.

“Don’t worry about it.” She looked at him. “Something will come up. Is there nothing on the park where you are now?”

“Not that I know of.” He said, after a moment’s pause. “Roberta’s pretty in the know on all that and she said she’d keep her eyes open. Besides, I was kinda wanting to move off there.” “Why?” Fliss looked at him.

“It’s not exactly upmarket.”

“Neither are you.” She snorted.

“Thanks, Sweetheart.” He rolled his eyes.

“No, what I mean is that you’re happy and settled there. It might not high-brow living but believe me, that’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Snobby assed neighbours peeking through curtains, arguments over who’s parked their Mercedes in the way of someone else’s Porsche, no thanks.” She pulled a face. “Where you are is nice and relaxed, there’s never any trouble, it’s quiet on the main and Roberta’s nearby.”

“Yeah I know.” Frank nodded leaning up to give her a peck on the lips. “Like you say, something will come up.”

“Anyway, change of subject,” Fliss wrapped her arms round his neck. “It’s your birthday on Wednesday.” Frank groaned “Don’t remind me…” “Thirty-seven. Old bastard.”

He narrowed his eyes “I’m only three years older than you.”

“Three years and three months, thank you.” she said.

“And I suppose those three months make all the difference?”

She nodded and he laughed, shaking his head.

“What do you wanna do?” she asked.

“It’s a Wednesday.” He shrugged. “Honestly? I’m happy with bowling and a burger as per the usual routine, maybe me and you can go out on the Friday night?”

“Sounds good.”

“We can go to Ferg’s and I can reminisce about my Friday Fuckboy antics.” he teased “Take you back the apartment and do you on the couch.”

“You did other girls on that couch?” she looked at him frowning. He hesitated for a moment before he smirked.

“Not on that one, no.”

**** “Frank!”

He turned to look at Roberta as she was walking out of her house and over to him.

“Hey.” He smiled, “You ok?”

“Yeah, I wanted to give you this for tomorrow.” She smiled, handing him a small gift bag.

“Roberta, you didn’t have to get me anything. Thank you.” He smiled.

“It’s not much so don’t be getting excited.” She shrugged “But I do have something else that might be worth excitement.”

“What?”

“A 2 Bed Apartment, one block down.”

Frank looked at her. “You serious?”

She nodded “Heard Pat and Maria talking about it before…”

Frank had no idea who Pat and Maria were, but he didn’t bother to tell her that.

“According to them, number 2457 has been vacated. The landlord had a bit of trouble with the previous tenants, they’d trashed the place after he issued them an eviction notice for not paying the rent.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Nice. How much was he letting it for?”

“Bout nine-hundred a month I think.” Roberta thought for a moment. Frank pondered, that was do-able…

“I popped in to see him before.” She continued and Frank smirked.

“Course you did.”

“Oh hush. I only went because apparently he was talking about doing the place up and selling, says he’s had enough of ass holes renting. But when I said I’d give you a reference he said he’d think about it and that if you go and see him he might be willing to do a deal.”

“A deal?” Frank frowned

“Yeah, as in let to you at a lower rate if you do the repairs.”

Frank considered this for a moment. He was pretty good with his hands when it came to stuff like that. Providing there wasn’t anything majorly wrong he should be able to fix the place up, and he was sure if he asked Bill would help.

“You got his number?” He looked at Roberta and she smiled, handing him a piece of paper.

“Give him a call in the morning.”

“I will, thanks Roberta.” He folded the paper and stuck it in his back pocket before he grinned and arched an eyebrow “You still ok to have Mary on Friday?” “I’m not even going to answer that.” She rolled her eyes as she turned and headed back towards her house.

Frank walked into his kitchen and was instantly hit with the smell of food and the noise of a familiar song playing from the Bluetooth speakers that sat on the window sill. He tossed his keys onto the table and moved behind Fliss, his hands falling to her hips as she smiled, drizzling dressing over the bowl of salad in front of her. He dropped a kiss to her neck and gently spun her round, causing her to giggle as he took her in a dancing hold and twirled her round the small space as Jason Mraz continued to sing I'm Yours.

"Get off you idiot." She laughed and he smiled, letting go as she pushed on his chest gently, her hands falling to his biceps as she took in his filthy T-shirt, biting her lip softly. There was something about seeing him full of grease and whatever other shit he’d been working with all day that made her a little bit hot under the collar.

"Good day?" He asked and she smiled. 

"Not bad at all. Think I've picked up another client."

"Yeah?" He reached into the salad bowl and picked out a piece of cucumber.

"Yeah at the same yard I was teaching at today." She slapped at his hand "Gonna have to start turning people away again soon, my schedule is chocca"

He pressed a kiss to her cheek and wandered into the main room where Mary was sat scribbling on something which rest on the coffee table.

"T'ya doing Stack?" He asked, his hand dropping to her hair. 

"Filling my Scout journal in for my first badge!" She smiled.

“Badge huh? What for?”

“Animal care, look." Frank peered over to see a picture of her and Monty stuck in the book, which she was writing underneath. "Fliss printed it for me.”

Frank smiled and headed into his room to grab a fresh towel from the laundry pile before he made his way into the bathroom to shower before dinner.

By the time he was done, Mary was already sat at the kitchen table, food on her plate. Frank quickly dried off, dressed and headed back, sitting down opposite her.

"So, I may have found an apartment." He helped himself to the salad to accompany the chicken and rice.

"Yeah?" Fliss looked at him "Where?"

 "A few rows down from here. Roberta found it actually"

"So we don’t have to move far?" Mary's face lit up.

"Well I gotta see it first. Apparently it needs a bit of work, but Roberta thinks that if I do it, the landlord will rent at a discount." He shovelled a fork of food unto his mouth and made an appreciative noise as the Mexican flavour on the rice hit his taste buds. "S'good"

"You want me to ask Dad to take a look with you?" Fliss asked and Frank smiled.

"I'll do it." He nodded "Be good to have his opinion"

They ate the rest of their food before Mary took off again to finish her journal, Fliss kneeling besides her helping her get her words in order whilst Frank did the dishes. He then picked up the small pile of mail that was on the side, Fliss having collected it before, and shuffled through it. There was a utility bill that he gave a cursory glance to, his credit card statement, yeah that could wait, and then a larger envelope that made him stop dead. It felt like a birthday card, and he knew instantly from the writing who it was from. Sliding a finger underneath the top of the flap he pulled the card out and raised an eyebrow slightly at the signature before he picked up the note that had dropped onto the table.

Frank,

I expect that the face you’re pulling right now is the usual one you pull when you’re either confused or slightly annoyed, or maybe a combination of both, and I don’t blame you.

I wanted to let you know that Diane’s work is currently being debated across the academic world, she’s getting the recognition she rightly deserved, and I can’t claim all the credit for that, some of it has to go to you.

I know that nothing will ever make up for what I put you and Mary through but I wanted to at least try and make some form of amends. By the time you read this the remainder of your legal bill will have been cleared. It’s the least I could do.

I’d also really like to get to know Mary a little more, perhaps I could arrange to visit when you feel the time is right, on your terms obviously. My number is below, maybe when you’ve considered this you can give me a call.

Happy birthday.

Evelyn.

What-the-actual-fuck?

He re-read the note again, a slight frown on his face. He already knew full well all about who was debating Diane’s work because, whilst he had never told anyone, he’d been keeping a close eye on it across the internet. And as for his legal bill….well, he had been paying Greg off in instalments, a couple of hundred each month but even at his heavily discounted rate he had over three-hundred left to fund. So he wasn’t going to lie, that would be a major help. But he couldn’t help but feel this was nothing but a bribe, an attempted sweetener, which was typical of his mother, thinking she could throw money at something and make it all better.

“What you got there?”

He looked up to see Fliss paused in the doorway.

“Read it and see.” he handed her the note.

He reached into the fridge for two beers and flipped the lids off, watching Fliss’s facial reactions as she scanned the note. Her brows raised that high they almost disappeared into her hair line and she pursed her lips, the nerve in her jaw twitching the way it always did when she was trying not to show she was pissed.

She finished and looked at him, shaking her head “Does she think that paying your legal bill which, she fucking caused in the first place, makes everything ok?”

Frank shrugged, smiling softly at Fliss’ utter indignation on his behalf.

“I’d like to say she’s not that stupid but…” Frank handed her a beer as he passed him back the note.

“What you gonna do about Mary?”

“It’s up to her.” Frank shrugged, “I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow and see what she says. If she wants to see Evelyn then I’m not going to stop her.”

Fliss didn’t reply, but Frank could see her mind was ticking over. Eventually she nodded.

“It’s your decision love, can’t say I’d be as accommodating given the circumstances.” Frank chuckled. “That’s because you’re a stubborn ass.”

“Says you.” she shot back.

He simply smiled in response before he asked. “Can you try and reason with Mary about it being time for her to get ready for bed? I need to call Greg.”

"Sure." Fliss nodded. She kissed his cheek before she headed into the living room and Frank heard Mary groan in protest. With a soft smile he stepped outside and scanned through his phone until he reached Greg's number.

"Hey man." Greg's warm voice greeted him. "I take it you heard from your mother?"

"So you do know." Frank replied, calmly.

"She called me, paid me and instructed me not to tell you. Said she was going to do that herself"

"Yeah she told me, sent me a note in the first birthday card I've had off her in nine years."

"Huh." Greg huffed "that's...nice?"

Frank snorted. “She wants contact with Mary, but, like I said, that’s down to Stack.”

"Well you know I got your back man so, if you need me to do anything just holler."

"I know, thanks. Hey, what you doing Friday? Was thinking about grabbing a few beers seeing as I'll have completed another circuit around the sun."

"Man, we're out already. Sorry." Greg sighed "but soon yeah, why don't you, Mary and Fliss come over or something one Saturday? We'll cook out"

"Sounds great." Frank nodded.

"Alright well, have a great day tomorrow and don’t worry about your mother man, she's absolutely no rights here."

"I'm not.” Frank said honestly. “I’m more curious than worried"

"Curiosity killed the cat, Frank.” Greg said after a pause.

"Well as long as it ain't Fred..."

****** For the first time in, well, years, the next morning Frank had the excitement of opening a pile of presents for his birthday. The main one, which he was stunned by, was a beautiful new Holzkern leadwood and marble watch from Fliss, along with a few polo-shirts and a bottle of his preferred aftershave- Paco Rabane Invictus. He also got a new tool box from Mary, which contained various boxes and bags of sweets, and his present from Roberta was a gift token for the local electronic store and a four pack. Once the gifts were open, he was stuffed full of pancakes and packed off to work for the day. It passed pretty quickly, the guys in the workshop had decorated his particular bench with banners and balloons, and caused exactly the type of fuss that grumpy Frank would have hated. But because happy Frank was out to play that day, he took it well, and enjoyed several of the donuts along with a Starbucks coffee round that Alan had brought in, a tradition apparently when they had a birthday in the place.

He managed to finish on time and headed over to collect Mary from after school club. He walked into the school grounds and round to the playing fields at the back, where he paused for a moment and watched as they were engaged in some kind of ball game. When there was a natural break, he caught her attention and she bounded over, her cheeks flushed from the activity and he gave Bonnie a smile and a nod before they headed to the truck.

“Good day, Stack?”

“Yeah.” She nodded “We did some creative writing and art. It was fun.”

“Cool.” He said as they both climbed into their seats. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something.” “Okay…”

“Evelyn. She sent me a birthday card, and it had a letter inside. She wants to see you.” “I don’t have to go live with her do I?” Mary’s eyes widened and Frank shook his head.

“No, all that’s sorted. You’re not going anywhere. And you don’t have to see her either if you don’t want to. It’s your call.”

“What do you think I should do?”

“I can’t answer that, Mary.” He shook his head “Like I told you a while back about the whole God debate you drew me into. I have my opinions and thoughts, but why would I want to cloud yours with my own.”

Mary pondered for a moment before she nodded, accepting his answer “Okay, I get it.”

“So I want you to think about it and let me know what you decide.” He looked at her. “And whatever it is, that’s fine by me. “

She nodded to show she’d understood and with that Frank set off and, once he had turned onto the main road back to the apartment, he glanced back over at her.

“On a change of subject, I’m going to look at that other apartment on Friday.”

“The one near us?”

“Uh, huh.”

“Cool.” Mary nodded. “Hey, Frank? Is Fliss going to live with us?”

Frank took a deep breath. “She’ll be doing what she does now.  I expect some time down the line we’ll live together but not just yet, why do you ask?” Mary shrugged “Just curious.” “Would her living with us be a problem?”

“No.” Mary scoffed. “She makes miles better food than you, she makes better hot chocolate than you, she can braid my hair and she always wakes me up nicely in the morning instead of just yanking my covers off me and telling me to hop to it.” Frank looked at his niece and smirked. “So what you’re saying is she’s better than me?”

“Not in all ways.” Mary shrugged “You give better hugs, even Fliss admits that. She says your hugs make her feel safe and happy and she’s right.” Frank smiled and turned his attention back to the road.

Once Fliss was home, it was then announced to Frank that they weren’t actually going bowling as he’d thought, instead they were having a picnic tea outside, with Roberta. And then Verity and Bill turned up handing him a card which contained a large sum of money. He pretested at their gift but they completely ignored him, simply telling him he was welcome and they spent a wonderful evening outside with a few beers and a huge sticky toffee apple cake which Verity had made.

It was no surprise that a few hours later at just gone eight when everyone had left, that he crashed on the sofa whilst Fliss was tidying the kitchen down and trying to get a still wired Mary to change for bed.

“He’s fallen asleep!” Mary pointed at Frank as they walked into the living room. “Talk about rubbish!”

Fliss pondered for a moment, and then a wicked idea formed in her head “We’ll have to wake him up then.” “How?”

Fliss grinned and explained to Mary who let out a naughty giggle as the two moved around grabbing what they needed to enact their plan.

“Ready?” Fliss whispered, once everything was in place.

Mary gave her a thumbs up and waved one of Fred’s cat toys over Frank’s face, dragging the feather on the edge of a string over his cheeks. Frank merely wrinkled his nose, but other than that made no movement. Fliss looked at Mary who narrowed her eyes, and then moved the cat toy again. This time, Frank raised his hand to bush whatever it was on his cheek away, and smeared the slice of birthday cake that Fliss had placed in his palm all over himself.

Mary and Fliss both burst out laughing, Mary collapsing onto the floor by the side of the sofa arm in hysterical giggles as Frank sat up, utterly in shock at what had just happened. It took him a second to understand, and wiped at his face, looking at the two of them. Fliss had tears pouring down her cheeks as he licked at his fingers before he narrowed his eyes at her.

“You’re dead.” And in a flash he darted off the sofa and the pair of them gave a shriek, running from the room. He caught Mary before she had even made it through the kitchen and he picked her up, her laughter and cries ignored, as he wiped his face all over her before he set her down and headed after Fliss.

She dodged around the side of the table outside Roberta’s, keeping it between them, and every time he moved she did the same in the opposite way. He raised his eyebrow at her, and she laughed even harder, before he sprung up and vaulted over the table, and she turned to run but he caught her, grabbing her round the waist as she laughed again.

“I suspect you think that was clever?” he nuzzled into her neck, wiping the mess off his cheek onto her skin.

“Not clever, but it was pretty funny.” she wiped his beard with her hand. “It was that or we stuck your hand in a bowl of water and watched you pee.”

“You know I’ll remember this…” he told her. “Watch your back.”

“Not sure if I’m worried or turned on.” she looked at him, a glint in her eyes. He smirked and pressed his lips to her softly before they headed back inside.

***** “He wasn’t lying when he said they’d done a number on the place.” Bill observed the thick, black gloss paint thrown all over the living room carpet of the apartment they were looking round, his eyes following it up one of the walls. Frank also spotted that the light fittings on the same wall had been smashed. He took it all in before Bill patted him on the shoulder and gestured to the kitchen area which was off to the side.  Bill, like Frank, was more concerned with weighing up the damage as it currently stood, whereas Fliss was clearly much more interested in how the room could look if the damage wasn’t there. They left her to it and headed into the room and Bill once more shook his head and sighed as they saw all of the doors were missing or hanging off the kitchen cabinets and the washing machine door had been pulled off its hinges completely.

Next they moved into the bathroom where Frank looked at the shower which had been wrenched off the wall removing half the tiles with it, and the huge crack in the bathtub. In the bedrooms, thankfully, the worst that seemed to have been done was they’d again poured some kind of paint all over the carpets.

“It’s a mess.” Bill sighed gently. “But, nothing we can’t sort.”

Frank smiled, noticing he’d used the phrase we.

“I got contacts.” Bill continued. “One of the guys at the golf club, his son runs a bathroom and kitchen installation company. He’s always getting old doors and showers and bathtubs from jobs that are perfectly fine, just people want new ones.” he stopped, looking around. “And as for the painting and the tiling and the carpets, we can do that between us. Bet we could get it done in a fortnight.” “Thanks.” Frank looked at him. “You know I don’t just expect you to help, that’s not why I asked you to come.” “I know.” Bill waved him away. “But I’m happy to. Been a while since I did a fixer-upper, plus, it gets me away from V’s nagging.”

Frank chuckled before he grew serious again, needing to do the maths in his head about what this was going to cost. "So, what upfront outlay you reckon I’m looking at?" "Maximum a thousand" Bill nodded. "And that’s tops. But from what you told me, if the deals right, you could make that back on the first couple of months with your discount rent. I can front it for you if you need me to.”

“That’s really kind of you, but I’ve got savings.” Frank smiled, “Of course, it all depends what he’s prepared to go down to.”

“What’s a place like this go for when it’s in good nick?” Bill asked.

“On this park, well, anywhere between eight hundred and a thousand” Frank answered as they wandered into the living area where Fliss was stood talking the landlord, a small, wiry man called John Jameson.

“Well it obviously means an outlay upfront.” Frank heard her saying, and he exchanged a glance with Bill, the pair of them grinning at the fact she was already doing the haggling for him “So…”

“I was renting it out for nine-fifty…” 

“Yeah and it’s gonna cost money and time to sort it out.”

Jameson nodded “Which is why I’m prepared to do a deal…”

“Six-hundred a month.” Frank cut in, trying his luck. “I take on responsibility for all the work but I want a long term lease.”

Jameson took a deep breath, “Trust me Mr Adler, the longer lease you sign the better.” the man looked at Frank, then to Fliss, then back again. “I’ll sign for 18 months at six-fifty. Then if you want to stay we can review the price after that. And I’d like to inspect the work when it’s done.”

“No problem.” Frank nodded

“Then you got yourself a deal.” Jameson stuck his hand out and shook Frank’s. “I’ll get the paper work sorted out and we can go from there.”

Fliss shot Frank a grin and he slid his arm round her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her temple. He was absolutely overjoyed. The rent he’d just agreed was only a hundred and fifty more than he was paying Roberta at the moment, for a much bigger home, and it left him more than enough over every month to keep saving and on occasions spoiling his girls. 

They all headed back outside, once more shaking hands as Bill made arrangements to come back and measure up, and then they bid Jameson goodbye and strode back down the path towards Frank’s apartment.

"You’re gonna need a bit more furniture." Fliss turned to him as they walked "But if you use what you have initially, we can add it as we go.” “We?” Frank looked at her and she flushed again at his teasing.

“Yeah, well, I just meant that like we can go to Ikea and like have huge arguments when we try to assemble the flat pack."

Bill rolled his eyes "Flat pack assembly is piss easy. We can do it over a few beers."

“As long as we doesn’t include mum.” Fliss said and Bill groaned.

“Not after last time.” He shook his head. “What happened last time?” Frank asked.

Fliss snorted a laugh and Bill held up his right hand, showing Frank a circular scar on the back of it, just above his wrist.

“Decided she’d screw me instead of a door hinge.” Bill raised an eyebrow “And yes, there’s a joke in there somewhere.” Frank laughed as Fliss rolled her eyes. “Now, you kids want a lift down to Ferg’s?”

Frank looked at Fliss who nodded. The pair of them were already changed and ready to go, Frank sporting a bright blue Hawaiian shirt with palm trees all over it for the occasion.

“That okay?” Frank asked.

“Course.” Bill said

“Ok, I’ll just nip into Roberta’s and check Mary’s okay then I’ll meet you at the car.”

***** Frank let go of Fliss' hand to hold the door open and she walked in to Ferg’s, the pair making their way to the bar. Fliss ordered them both a beer and she turned to talk to Frank when he felt a slap on his shoulder. Turning round, he gave a little start as he saw his friends all grinning at him. 

"Surprise!" Greg smiled as Frank frowned for a moment. They had all told him they were busy. It didn’t take him long to realise what had been going on. He turned to Fliss who grinned at him.

"Happy Birthday!" She laughed as he bent down to give her a quick kiss.

He dropped an arm round her shoulder as the group began to chat animatedly, eagerly catching up as they hadn't been together since their Christmas night out. Shots were shared, beers were drunk and before long a pool tournament had struck up, Bonnie and Fliss teaming up together, whilst Frank took Greg as his team mate. As the rounds went by, the duos dropped out one by one until they reached the last four. And it was a tense final, losers down to buy a round for the entire group.

Fliss sank her last striped ball and looked up at Frank with a wink. "Top right."

She missed.

"Bollocks!" She yelled, hanging her head as Frank and Greg shared a high-five. Frank moved round to take his shot, Fliss tying everything she could to distract him, even running her hand up the inside of his thigh which made him jerk forward with a grunt.

The rest of the group laughed as he stood up with a sigh and gave her a stern look "Stop it." 

She backed away, smirking a little and he took the shot, winning the game. With a groan Fliss turned to Bonnie who shook her head.

"We let you win because it's your birthday." Bonnie looked at him and Fliss nodded in agreement.

"Was my birthday on Wednesday.” He rolled his eyes. “And like fuck you let me win. She's the most competitive person I've ever met!" He pointed at Fliss.

Fliss shrugged, the rest of them laughing as the girls headed off to the bar. Bonnie handed Fliss her share of the money before she excused herself to go to the bathroom leaving Fliss to order the drinks.

As the bartender turned to get her order she felt someone slide into the space next to her as the other guy working behind the bar made his way over 

"Have you been served or..." the man next to her asked and Fliss looked at him, smiling.

"Yeah thanks, go ahead."

He placed his order and then turned back to Fliss. “You here alone or..."

"Sorry, no I'm with someone." She smiled, nodding over to the group who were now making their way over to a spare table.

"Too bad." The guy winked, smiling at her as he blatantly looked her up and down.

And that was it. Such a simple, innocent, flirty action from the man, yet it threw Fliss right back, and she felt the panic beginning to rise in her chest. If he saw this guy talking to her, and her talking back...

Frank, who had been silently observing the douchebag with Fliss, spotted the look of panic as it spread across her face instantly. Excusing himself, he strode straight over to where she was stood. He placed himself in between the bloke and Fliss with a stern "get lost" tossed casually over his shoulder. The guy apologised and hastily made his retreat as Frank looked at his girl, his hands cupping her face gently.

"Lissy...hey.”

It took her a moment but her eyes focused again and she looked at him, her hands reaching up to clamp round his wrist.  "Frankie...I..."

"Did he do something?"

"No...I...I just...I wasn't doing anything, please, don't be mad."

"Woah, woah." he said softly, his hands still cupping her face. "I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"

But even as he said it he had a sudden recollection of the mornings after their first night together and her comment about why she’d gotten the scars he’d seen on her ass.

"Baby, look at me.” He instructed, softly "I would never be cross with you over something like that, and even if I was I wouldn't..."

He trailed off, shaking his head, unable to even voice the words and watched as her breathing evened out and then her eyes filled with tears.

"Frank I'm sorry, I didn't mean that you would, I know you wouldn't do that, I just…"

"Liss, stop apologising." he gently pulled her into a hug. Her hands wrapped around his back, fists grabbing at his shirt and he pressed a kiss to her head allowing her to pull back as she wiped her eyes.

"Is anyone watching?” She asked softly after a moment. Frank looked around and then turned back, shaking his head.

"No." He assured her as two buckets of beer were slid toward them.

"God I'm such an idiot."

"Stop." He looked at her again "You're not an idiot. Well, not all the time." She hit him on the chest softly and he chuckled before he sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear "Baby, please, don't ever be afraid to tell me what's happening or if you're scared or worried okay?"

"I'm not." She shook her head softly “I'm not scared of you, you know that right?"

"I know." He smiled before he dropped a kiss to her lips and picked up one of the buckets.

She grabbed the other and then he saw the cheeky smile cross her face again and he was glad to see Lissy had returned and Felicity was gone.

"You're still gonna do me on the couch when we get back, right?" She asked not looking at him.

"Oh yeah." he grinned.

**** Chapter 14

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic

[cassava-49]

Rose Heart Academy

Marinette clutched on the straps of her bag as she stood in front of Rose Heart Academy. She transferred here after the first semester ended, she had Ms. Bustier to thank for. She was the one who suggested the school and helped her transfer, since she noticed her distance between her and the class. Ms. Bustier tried to talk to her but Marinette didn't say anything until she suggested for her to transfer if she found her classmates overbearing. She felt anxious hoping that the people her wouldn't be like her old classmates back in François Dupont College. The school that drove her out and called her names and lies. After feeling a reassuring pat from inside of her small shoulder bag, where Tikki hid, have her another energy of hope.

She then took out her timetable and map to find her classroom. While she was trying to figure out the map, she found someone lower it with their pencil. She turned to find a dark skinned girl with curly brown locks which reminded her of Alya. She tensed a little as the girl spoke, "You're new here aren't you? I'm Angela de Gand, do you need any help? You look lost." She nodded as the girl took her timetable and nodded as she took her by the arm and dragged her to get Mathematics class. They then stopped in front of a classroom. "This is your Mathematics class," Angela said. "T-thank you, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng," she thanked as the other girl nodded and went to the next room for her lessons. She then entered to find the classroom to be twice as large as her old one. It had twice the number of students with chairs like in her old school but with a more university like aura. She then took the back seat since it didn't seem to be occupied.

Once she sat down she earned looks from the others. As she waited for the teacher to arrive she heard someone cough, she turned to find a blond boy with gray eyes staring at her. "That's my seat," he said calmly. Marinette fumbled and got up apologizing as the boy took the seat only to have someone squealing at them saying, "Aww, Felix you have a seat mate now." Marinette then turned to find a brown hair boy wearing a blue and white shirt squeal. "Shut up Claude," Felix said. Marinette then turned to the boy named Claude and asked, "Are there any more seats?" Claude then turned to her saying, "You must be new, but no that's the only chair available, so please take care of Felix. I'm Claude Vernet by the way." She smiled and replied, "Thank you, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng." This made his eyes go wide saying, "Wait, like the actual Tom and Sabine's bakery?" She nodded as he squealed 'Lucky'. Once the teacher arrived Claude and Marinette went back to their seats.

After math, Claude, along with a dark skinned boy who was wearing green, approached them. "Hey, Marinette, do you need any help in navigating the school?" Claude asked. She nodded handing him her timetable. "By the way, this is Allan, and that ice king over there is Felix," he introduced his friends as Felix took his bag. "You're in Allan's class next, science right?" Claude says. The two nodded as they exited the room. "Well I guess you're stuck with me Marinette," Allan said. She smiled at him and nodded, still feeling others eyeing her. "Well then see you guys later," Claude called as he and Felix went the other direction. "So Marinette," Allan called her attention. "Do you want to have lunch with us today, so that you wouldn't feel left out," he suggested. "Thanks, but I don't want to be a bother, I'll be fine," she says still finding it hard to trust them. "Are you sure? But if you change your mind, our table's always open," he says as they got into the lab sitting next to each other. "Can I see your timetable, so that I can help you with going to your classes?" Allan asked. She smiled gratefully and handed him her schedule. It seemed like they still have the same classes, with the exception of having Felix in the next, until lunch, but in the afternoon she'd have it with Allegra, then Claude and finally Felix.

Lunch finally arrived and Mari and Allan went their separate ways still reminding her that she's free to sit with them. She smiled and went in line to grab her lunch. She then found a lone table and made a bee line for it until she felt someone touch her arm. She flinched, not trusting any physical contact, anymore. She turned to find Angela smiling widely at her. "Hey Mari," she greeted. Marinette, however, cringed at the nickname she gave her, recalling it as the same nickname her old friends used to call her. "Come on, sit with us," she said as she dragged her towards their table. Despite her protests she was now in the center of the lunch room, seated with other girls she knows nothing of. "Hey girls," Angela greeted as she forced Marinette onto one of the chairs and sat down next to her. "This is Marinette she's new here," she added as Marinette felt the other people stare at her again. The others greeted her and began introducing themselves. "I'm Stefanie Russell," a red haired girl with short hair dressed in a cute pink dress said. "Elizabeth D'Alene," a girl with black hair wearing a pink sweater and blue pants. Come to think of it all the girls are wearing pink. Angela was wearing a pink tank top and magenta jumper shorts. The girls clothing did fit the school's dressed code, it was not that short, but modest.

"We don't usually do this," Stefanie said. "But we could make an exception," Elizabeth added. "You designed Adrien Agreste's hat right?" Angela asked. Marinette nodded slowly, knowing where this is going. "Well since you have a symmetrical face you could do?" Elizabeth said. "But she could still afford to lose a few pounds," Stefanie added. Angela then cleared, "What we're saying is that, do you want to join our group? You are new and you need some good friends. Remember on Mondays we wear pink, Tuesdays skirts, Wednesdays shorts, Th–."

"No," came Marinette's quick reply. "Excuse me? Angela asked feeling offended. "I'm sorry, you all seem nice but, it seems like you only want to be friends with me because of my connections with Adrien," she reasoned. Angela's eyes went wide as she said, "Well that is a mistake." With that all of Marinette's food spilled all over her. The whole school saw what happened and began laughing. Marinette felt so small, it was just the first day and she was already blacklisted. She wanted to cry, she wanted to hide, she should have took Allan's offer. She then felt someone pull her up and dragged her away from the girls who were hysterically laughing. She turned to find a tan skinned blonde wearing a white polo shirt and a violet vest. She then saw Allan put his hand on her shoulder for support, as he glared at the girls. She watched as Felix and Claude approached the girls as she was dragged away.

"Oh, Felix honey, did you just see the transferee, she such a funny little girl, getting food all over her clothes," Angela said once she noticed his presence. She was only greeted by cold eyes and a glare from Claude. "Grow up Angela, this isn't a TV show where you can just be a mean girl or whatever you call yourselves, this is reality," Claude says earning a few oohs from those who were listening. "Come on Claude, you know that's not true, right Fe?" she stated. "If you please Ms. de Gand, restrain yourself from any childish behaviour, you are supposed to be the face of the de Gand company, however your actions speak otherwise, so kindly learn proper etiquette and decorum," Felix ended. With that they left the three girls who were fuming because of how the two stood up for Marinette.

Claude and Felix went back to their table to finish their lunch to find Allan seated there. "Allegra said that she'll take care of Marinette," he stated. After a few minutes Allegra and Marinette came back, with a fresh pair of shorts and a white polo. She guided her to their seat while the others were still looking at her. Once seated Allan slid Marinette a new tray of food. "It's alright honey, they're just staring at you because of the three, not at what happened earlier. Marinette just nodded as she took small bites of her lunch not wanting to look up. "Don't let them bother you," Allan said when he noticed the three staring a hole into Mari. "Thank you," she mumbled as she took a sip out of her carton. The others smiled as Claude replied, "Of course, what are friends for?" She flinched at this as she raised her head and asked, "W-we're f-friends?" The three have her a soft smile as they nodded in agreement. "Of course we are, I mean even Felix over here defended you," Claude said as he puts his arm over the blond's shoulder.

"It was only out of spite. Ms. De Gand must start learning to respect others despite their social standing," Felix said. Marinette then smirked at this saying, "Of course, because you do that to every person in need, right?" This caught him off guard and simply took a bite from his lunch. "Oh, so does that mean I'm different? Or maybe, I don't know, special?" she pushed. Felix then put his fork down and glared at the girl. "If this is the gratitude I receive after offering my assistance, I might as well left you at their mercy," he said. "Such a big vocabulary from someone who looks a tad small," she replied while making her eyes go to a certain area. This made the rest of the group's eyes go wide and laughed at how red Felix went. Even Marinette herself didn't even expect herself to be saying such things, but she still couldn't help but let out a victorious grin.

"Oh my-y G-g-god," Allegra said in between laughs. "It's final, you're definitely my girlfriend," she says. "I can't believe you actually said that to him," Claude says laughing harder than before. "Damn, no one has ever says anything like that to him," Allan added. Marinette then smiled and laughed along with the group. Once the laughter died out, Felix regained his composure and got up from his seat and went over to whisker something in her ear, "I'll let you know that my dick is way bigger than my vocabulary. I would let you see it if you still need confirmation," he whispers and gives her a shit eating grin. Marinette then turned beet red at his comment, making him enjoy her flustered expression. With that he stalked away giving her a flirty wink as she tries to straightened herself. This made her smile, thinking that this year might be different after all.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #felinette #felix pv #felix agreste #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #quantic kids #felix and marinette banter #lila bully #Claude #Allegra #Allan #mean girls reference #heathers reference #marinette x felix

[builder051]

Whumptober 2021 day 5: Misunderstanding

Nat on fire

Small mentions of drug use, sickness, emeto

___________________________

Nat gets the call to action a few minutes past five on Wednesday morning. Her phone, stashed in the bed and still on its charger , begins to blare loudly, as does the pager she’s long since thrown into the depths of the closet. Once she answers one, they’ll both stop. It’s usually convenient, except that today she’s nowhere near either of them.

On a normal morning, Nat would still be in bed. Probably still in the dregs of REM, but lately, she’s just been drifting off at this hour, the drink and drugs in her system wearing down and leaving her to catch a short rest.

That’s not today, though. It’s the middle of the week, and Nat’s not stupid. She hasn’t shot up in two days. She hates to think that small of a break would put her in withdrawal, for she can’t be that addicted, can she? But that’s about the only logical cause Nat can think of for her sudden and desperate urge to leap out of bed and spill her guts into the toilet.

She’s been at it since…midnight? Maybe two. There was definitely a two showing on her glowing digital alarm clock when she dashed past it and skidded on her knees into the tiny bathroom. Hours have passed; Nat can tell without turning around to look at the clock. Her abdominal muscles have begin to hurt from heaving. She’s distinctly lightheaded, even perched up with the support of the toilet seat. Everything tastes like sour tropical fruit and salt and sweat. And Fury has a general rule about not calling before don’t-be-a-dick o’clock.

There’s a pause in the loud ringing from the bedroom behind her, then it all starts up again. Someone’s hit redial. Nat sighs and leans away from the toilet bowl, testing herself before leaving it completely. She’s fine, though shaky, and her throat seems both abraded and extra wet. “Ok,” she says, trying to push out speech without having to cough first.

Nat reaches around in the now-cold bedclothes and finds her phone, lit up and flashing Fury’s name.

“What?” Nat groans, almost before she has the speaker to her ear.

“Well, good morning to you,” Fury says in a clipped, annoyed tone. “What took you so long?”

“I was asleep…”

“Yeah, well, speedy reaction times are still a thing.”

Nat rolls her eyes, but but the movement brings back full-on nausea, so she stops, presses her shaky, slightly damp hand to her forehead, and takes two steps back until she finds the closet door against which to ground herself.

“Romanov?” Fury seems mildly concerned about her. Or maybe the connection of the call.

“Yeah,” Nat answers. “Here.”

“Briefing at 6:30. Trouble’s come up,” Fury explains shortly. “In country, so at least the flight’ll be short.”

“Urgent, uh, stuff…?” Nat hazards, her head more than her stomach telling her she’d be more comfortable back in the bathroom. She’s sure she’s emptied out, but that doesn’t mean the urge to retch is gone.

“Do I call you in for anything else?” Fury asks, as if she’s stupid.

“Well, um—“

“Briefing. 6:30,”. Fury shores up. “We still have a coffee machine.”

“Oh—“. Nat has to move her hand down over her mouth. “I’m really not feeling—“

“You’re up to it,” Fury says. “I promise. You’ll be finished by lunch, and you can all go and have your little celebratory hamburgers and what all.”

Nat’s going to explode. She presses what she hopes is the red button to end the call and throws her phone back on the bed. Then she turns on the spot and runs the three or four paces it takes to re-enter the bathroom. She bends at the waist and violently heaves, bringing up absolutely nothing except a dribble of foamy spit.

“Fabulous…”. Nat wipes her mouth on the back of her hand, then tries to force her fuzzy brain into motion. She needs to go into the office, there’s really no choice there. Then things are largely up to fate; she can sit seasick through a PowerPoint and bum along on a mission where she may or my not throw up on a jet, or she can get to the office and experience things going downhill from there. Nat can’t visualize an outcome where everything goes well.

Once she’s feeling steady enough, Nat gets back to her feet and turns on the bathroom light. She ignores the pale yellowish ring she’s made in the toilet and grabs a brush to see to her hair. Under the sink there’s a dusty gallon jug of distilled water, probably meant for the steam iron left untouched on the top shelf of the pantry. Fluids are fluids, though, and Nat has no Gatorade at the moment, so she unseals the lid and lifts the heavy bottle with both hands in order to take a drink. The water tastes like plastic, but anything’s better than the horror currently festering behind her molars.

Nat wore clothes to bed, a pair of faded black sweats and a SHIELD academy t-shirt, so she doesn’t bother getting dressed. She shoves her feet into tennis shoes without socks. Then she nabs a plastic grocery sack that’s listlessly floating across the kitchen tile opposite the window unit AC and stashes inside a pair of rolled up jeans and her phone. Nat takes her keys from the hook beside the front door, then takes a last deep breath and steps out into the hazy dawn.

It’s humid, and Nat’s car is covered in soft condensation. The moisture in the air settles on her upper lip, making her feel artificially hot and sick all over again. It’s only for a second, though, for once Nat’s in her vehicle, she blasts the cold air until she’s thoroughly chilled. Her hand shakes as she adjusts the temperature again to something more moderate, and it takes nearly the entire ride up the highway for her body to settle.

Nat’s fine, apart from a few hard swallows and intent breaths, until she gets to the side streets leading up to the SHIELD building. Half of them are one-way, and with cars illegally parked at intervals where she’d like to be driving, rather more attention is required than she’s prepared to give at the moment.

Nat’s stomach groans as she manages to squeeze past a crooked PT Cruiser with one tire attached to the curb. She swallows quickly a few times, but her mouth waters, and she isn’t sure anything is actually going down.

The next turn puts her at the entrance to the parking garage. Nat’s grateful that her full-time status lets her whiz past the barrier without having to stop and take a ticket. She loops around the first level, then the second. She’s about to go up the third and park on four, which puts her closest to the correct set of offices and locker rooms, but she’s beginning to taste bile again, and she knows she won’t last.

There’s a cluster of parking spaces in front of Nat, the weird angled ones that are most likely to get backed into by other cars as they escape at the end of the day, but, hey. She needs a spot and she needs one now. Nat means to let the car coast forward into the space, but it stagnates, and she hits the accelerator lightly. She has to slam on the break to keep from plowing into the blockade, and the jolt sends pure agony through her head, which then feeds down her spine, and into her abdomen.

“Fuck,” Nat mutters, trying to open the door and escape without first taking off her seatbelt. She hangs out of the car door, gagging for a moment, then her nausea dispels long enough for her come to her senses, disengage the seatbelt, and completely exit the car.

Unsteady on her feet, Nat clings to the door and hangs her head. Her breaths come fast and light perspiration forms on her forehead. Her throat feels gunky and sore, and she’s unaware of what or how much she’s expelling until she hears the splatter agains the garage floor.

A car horn honks suddenly behind Nat, and she starts, whipping her head around. Headlights nearly blind her, but Nat can make out the silhouette of an open door and someone moving toward her.

“Nat?” A familiar voice calls, and she can see him pick up his pace, running now to close the gap between his car and hers.

Nat curses under her breath, then spits and shakes her head. There’s no real hiding the evidence, not at this point. Best she can do is come up with a convincing lie and hope her body can roll with it.

“Are you ok?” Steve asks, approaching her with arm outstretched. He goes to touch her shoulder, but changes his mind at the last moment and places his palm atop the roof of the sedan.

“Um. Yeah.” Nat clears her throat a little, which burns and brings on a secondary desire to turn her insides out, but she clenches every muscle esophagus to colon and manages to keep it down.

“Are you—?”

“Coffee.” Nat tries to find her voice. “Didn’t quite agree with me.”

“Uh…”. Steve shakes his head. “That’s not coffee.”

Nat turns her head a micrometer and sees him looking at the hideously yellow bile running downhill toward her tires.

“Why are you so interested in looking at my…” Nat accuses. “You know. And why’d you honk at me?”

“That was a mistake.” Steve looks mildly ashamed. “I just traded in for a newer model…” He trails off.

“No matter what year it is, you shouldn’t leave it idling like that,” Nat snaps. She gets a swipe in at her face while Steve’s looking backward at his inappropriate high beams.

“You seem like you’re in trouble,” Steve says abruptly, still turned away. “You’re really sick.”

The flickering fluorescents overhead can’t be doing anything good for her complexion. “Eh. Everybody gets hit sometimes.”

“You shouldn’t have had to come in.”

Nat’s laugh comes out more like a weak, hitching sigh. “Try telling that to Fury.”

“You downplay things. Hard. You know?” Steve’s free hand comes out of nowhere and the backs of his fingers rest lightly below Nat’s cheekbone.

“Get off, you creep—“

“Relax. I’m just checking your temperature.” Steve’s smile looks placating, but his eyes are wide and honest.

“Hm.” Nat sniffs and waits for him to be done.

Steve drops his hand back to his side and nods conclusively.

“What?”

“Just what I thought. You’re warm.” Steve doesn’t waste time. “C’mon, I’ll quit idling my engine and take you home.”

“Nah, I’ll probably ruin your new upholstery.” Nat gulps, disgusted by the possibility of new car smell filling her lungs and sinus cavities. “I don’t know. I’ll just…”. Nat looks into her vehicle, dreading the journey back to her apartment. She shifts her eyes back to Steve. “And I’ll have to beg out to Fury first, anyway.”

“I’ll do it for you,” Steve says. “On my word.”

“You’re not going to take pictures on your phone, are you?” Nat asks weakly. “You’re going to need proof to get past that guy…”

“If you can’t ride in a car, you need to be in medical.” Steve seems to realize he hasn’t broken it to her gently, so he backtracks and says, “With beds, you know?”

Nat wants to disagree. Even if she’s not fit for a mission, she can at least be independent. Take care of herself. But what’s she even thinking? She’s barfing in a damn parking garage, getting rescued by a coworker because she can’t even get up to the right floor.

“Fine,” Nat practically growls. “But no needles.” The nurse babysitting her doesn’t need to see the baby track marks dotting her inner elbow. She’ll keep those to herself, thank you very much. “No IVs. Bed. Bin. That’s all.”

“I’ll make sure that’s clearly communicated.” Steve nods , then jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Let me go park that thing, and I’ll walk you in.”

“Sure…”

Steve vanishes, and a moment later, the offensive headlights dim to something more manageable. His car moves forward and comes to a stop a few places down from hers.

Nat could vanish, too. Run into the building. Jump into her driver’s seat and speed off.

She doesn’t need the help. Or the charity. Or the friendship, really. She isn’t quite sure why, but she stays.

#whumptober 2021 #whumptober #marvel #mcu #nat on fire #fanfic #fanfiction #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #captain america #black widow #misunderstanding #day 5 #hurt/comfort #sickfic #friendship #emeto #emetophilia #illumivomi

[tobesobri]

𝓞nly one more chapter to go after this omg!!!! Honestly, I considered giving up on posting this story so many times, but I’m really glad I didn’t because it’s been such an incredible experience thanks to all of you guys! This chapter is my personal favorite out of the entire series so I really hope you guys like it!

If you’d like a preview of Chapter 13 right now, you can join my patreon here! All current proceeds will be donated to the Marsha P. Johnson Institute. Thank you so much for all the love and support with this story ❤️

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h for editing ❤️

CHAPTER TWELVE: SLAVE TO THE WAY YOU MOVE (6.2K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

When her phone rang the next morning, she didn’t exactly get to it very easily. Not when she tried to roll away from Harry and he groaned, holding onto her even tighter.

“Leave it,” he whispered in a raspy version of his voice, eyes still closed, arm still firmly curled around her waist.

“It’s probably Will,” she reminded him, attempting once again to move away from Harry.

But he just groaned again like he was some kind of possessive dog. She huffed, falling against his chest when he showed no signs of giving up. Which remained true until she dug her hands into his side and tickled him away from her.

“Oi! Stop it!” He whined, finally letting go and pushing her away from him until he rolled over on his side and she was free to answer her phone.

“You cheating fucker,” he mumbled half into his pillow while she sat on the edge of the bed and took care of Will’s call before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you're still at Harry’s right?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’m out front. Sorry I didn’t call before I got here, it’s just been hectic.”

She immediately shot up from her spot on his bed and Harry opened his eyes again, turning onto his back to watch her as she raced to retrieve her clothes.

“Oh, um... I was just going to get an uber or something.” She held her phone to her ear with her shoulder as she grabbed her bra and then her dress from Harry’s floor. 

“It’s no big deal. I’m headed back to pick up a few things anyways because I’m going to stay with Sasha the rest of the weekend.”

Y/N had been too lost in her panicking that she forgot why she’d ended up where she did last night in the first place. “Is she alright? Her mom I mean.”

Will sighed through the receiver, “Yeah. She was having chest pains yesterday. They kept her overnight for observation. I just got them home about an hour ago, but I’m literally still in my clothes from last night.”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at Harry, who stared at her concerned, waiting himself to know what was going on and why it seemed like she was leaving him already.

“Okay, um, I’ll be there in a minute.”

And then Harry shut his eyes tight and wished they could just rewind and go back to sleep.

“He’s waiting outside.” She spoke softly and Harry opened his eyes to her, finding her phone in her hand instead of at her ear.

Harry nodded, knowing she didn’t have any other options. She stared at him for a moment, growing sadder by the second, before she reluctantly took her clothes to his bathroom with her and changed back into them.

When the bathroom door shut behind her, he rolled onto his stomach, pressing his face into his hands because her leaving was not at all in his plans for the morning. He had so much more to say to her, more kisses to give her. 

He didn’t want her to go home and never come back again because, in his experience, saying I love you wasn’t always enough to get someone to stay. 

She crawled onto the bed behind him once she was changed, placing his t-shirt onto his bare shoulder to get his attention. Once he looked at her, she smiled apologetically.

“I’ll be back, I promise.” She leaned down, pressing her lips to his. She pulled away quicker than he would have liked her to and she looked at him almost like she was about to cry when he pouted and reached for more. She hated leaving him like she was, with so many words hanging above them still, but Will left her no choice. 

“Sorry for bailing on you like that.” Will said while he drove in a hurry, breaking the speed limit on every street it took to get back to their building. She couldn’t blame him though.

Shaking her head, she quickly shot him down. “Don’t worry about it.” And she really wished he wouldn’t. After the night she had, she should be thanking him for leaving her at the party. 

“Guess Harry owed you anyways for that one time he got drunk and you let him sleep in your bed.” Will smiled, glancing over at her while she nodded in agreement. Her heart fluttered thinking back to that time and how far she and Harry had come since then. She wondered if he’d liked her back then too, in the same way she had liked him, and just how long she was blind to it. 

Will explained everything that happened with Sasha the rest of the way and she listened quietly, respecting his need to release all the anxious thoughts even though she sometimes found herself getting distracted. It was Harry’s fault, she figured, he’d said he was in love with her, and kissed her when he was sober, and she didn't get the chance to say a single word to him yet.

Y/N and Will split ways when he rushed to his room to pack a bag and she sat on the edge of her bed, waiting until he left again before she called Harry. A text might have sufficed, asking what time she could come back, but she wanted to hear his voice again. Desperately.

Her phone dinged in her hands before she got the chance, however.

(Harry, 10:03 a.m.)

Just got called to a meeting until five. I can pick you up afterwards?

Her shoulders dropped and a frown pulled on her lips. Five o’clock was so far away she had no clue what she was going to do until then. She had no plans for the day besides spending the entire thing with Harry. 

(Y/N, 10:03 a.m.)

Okay.

“I’ll be back tomorrow night.” Will poked his head in her room and she tried to pretend like she didn’t just get the worst news of her entire life. 

She nodded and he hesitated a moment before he left, wanting to ask if she’d be alright by herself in the apartment all weekend, but he refrained. She wasn’t a baby and he needed to stop worrying so much. His lips fell into another apologetic smile just before he took off. She listened to his footsteps and then eventually the front door as he shut it behind him.

Falling back on her bed, she already wished she was in Harry’s again. She still felt his arms around her, his lips on hers, his breath as he said those words. 

When it was nearing five, she was just about ready. Harry had texted that he got out early and was on his way right as she got out of the shower. With her towel wrapped around her, she walked over to her dresser to figure out what to wear and put her focus on that, which calmed her nerves about seeing Harry again.

She dug through her underwear drawer first, realizing she hadn’t done laundry in a while when she only had a couple clean pairs left.  But in her attempts to choose between the bright purple pair with pictures of cats on them or the stripey one with ‘Wednesday’ printed on the back, her eyes fell to something much more appealing at the bottom of her drawer that she hadn’t seen or thought of in a long time. 

She’d never had a need for a nice set of lingerie, not even when she’d bought it just after graduating college. No one was going to see it besides her, but that really hadn’t mattered because it was for her. Picking the lace bra and panty set up in her hands now, it reminded her of when she’d first saw it online and then opened it up in person. When she tried it on and looked at herself in the mirror with all the hope in the world that it would make her see her body differently. It didn’t quite work out that way, however. It wasn’t an instant fix to her problems as she dreamed it would be, but even though she didn’t care for how she looked in it, it still made her feel better about herself, so she hung onto them. 

And she was glad for that because if something were to happen with Harry, she was not doing it in kitty cat undies and a bra she owned since freshman year. 

She had no clue if they would even get to the point of Harry seeing what was underneath her clothes, but just the thought of it made her restless in the passenger seat of his car. Then there was just being in his car at all that had her in a fit of butterflies as well because it was the first time they’d been out in public like this together. They weren’t around friends, not in the comfort of either of their homes anymore and while it used to scare her to potentially be caught with Harry, now she was wishing someone would. It would make telling her roommates, and especially Will, that much easier. 

In order to keep her thoughts and her body under control, she focused on the mundane things instead. Everything she wanted to say to him was going to have to wait until they were at his house because that was the only place she felt comfortable enough to be completely vulnerable with him. 

“How was your meeting?” She asked after he pulled back onto the streets again and although it was a boring question, it still made her just as nervous, possibly because she knew it was just her stalling until they walked through his front doors.

“Alright,” he mumbled, “would have rather spent the day with you.”

Looking out her window instead of at him, she quickly hid the blush on her cheeks. The lingerie on her skin under her long-sleeve and jeans became all-too apparent again. She needed to calm down, that much she knew, because she didn't even know what Harry wanted yet and she definitely wasn’t doing anything until she’d said what she needed to say. 

She sighed shakily, “Well you can have me for the rest of the weekend.”

He grinned at her words, not sure if she was hiding an innuendo in them or not, but he didn’t risk asking. She was staying, at least until the weekend was over, and that’s all he cared about.

Once they’d reached his house, and she glared at the stupid For Sale sign again, she realized why she hated it so much. It wasn’t just a house to her anymore, it wasn’t some place that made her feel like a stranger. It held her most personal objects and most precious memories. It had become home to her, way more than her apartment ever did.

She placed her things down on the island in the kitchen and it was clear he had hired someone to clean up while he’d been gone. There was no chocolate cake smeared into the countertops and no empty bottles of beer laying around anymore. It was clean again with absolutely no telling if a party had even happened last night. She’d almost forgotten, too, since the only part of last night on her mind was when they’d gone upstairs together.

Watching him pour two glasses of water, it took her right back to their first night together. So much had changed since then. She wasn’t even the same person anymore, she was sure of that. 

Although she was possibly the most nervous she’d ever been, she knew she had to just spit it out. Rip the band-aid off and tell him everything she felt about him. She cleared her throat and hoped for the best.

“I liked you all this time too, you know.” Her confession wasn't nearly up to par with his, but he’d take it anyways. Grinning, he glanced at her sideways while closing the fridge.

“Could’ve fooled me.” He slipped her one of the glasses across the counter, knowing very well that she did, in fact, fool him into thinking otherwise. Until she kissed him this morning and promised she’d be back, he still hadn’t been convinced.

A slew of apologies rested on her face, in her furrowed brows and flared nostrils, “I didn’t think you liked me so it was easier for me to just push you away.”

He leaned onto the counter, facing her but not looking at her. His mind went in all different directions then. First to the time he told Will he thought he’d made his feelings for her obvious and now realized Will had been right. Then, and most prominently, his mind snapped to quite possibly the worst day of his life, or at least since he’d known her. His heart broke all over again when her previous words rang in his head as clear as they had several weeks ago. When she told him she didn’t care if he saw other people. When he cried in the exact same spot he was standing in now because he thought she didn’t have a single feeling for him at all. He never thought she just might be pushing him away in order to protect herself and he felt stupid for not realizing that.

But… hiding her emotions seemed to be Y/N’s specialty.

“You were really good at that… pushing me away.”

She sighed again and all the words in her brain finally just spilled out for him to hear and for the kitchen walls to absorb. “I’m really sorry about that Harry, I think I was just too afraid of you rejecting me… and you never really said anything either so I assumed… But I was heartbroken when I found out what you did in New York, I just,” she paused for a moment to look into his eyes again and the way he looked at her with so much care gave her enough confidence to continue, “I didn’t want you to think I liked you, or that I was jealous, because I didn’t think you would ever feel the same about me.”

Harry remained quiet when it was written all over her face that she still had more to say and all he wanted to do was listen. “But then, um,” she began once more, “then I didn't really want you to like me or for that song to be about me or any of it because I felt like you would be better off with someone else who could be more open with you.” Her next words came out in a whisper, “I just thought it was best to leave you alone.”

He nodded, averting his eyes to where he ran his fingertip over the edge of his glass, figuring out everything he wanted to say first but when he looked at her again, he realized that was part of their problem. Not just saying how they really felt without thinking of the consequences.

He took the two steps needed to stand right in front of her, to be able to reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear and fill his senses with everything he loved about her. Her soft skin when his thumb brushed past her cheek, her coconut-scented shampoo, and especially her eyes that cared about him and trusted him.

“That’s not what was best, I hope you know that.” He began softly and she nodded before he continued. “Also hope you know how sorry I am that it took me so long to say anything to you… but I realized I was falling in love with you after you told me about your past. So when you said you didn’t like relationships, I didn’t want to hurt you so I kept it to myself. But I still foolishly fell for you anyways, didn’t I?” He glanced between her eyes, watching the crinkles appear on the outside of them as she smiled.

“But Y/N?” He started up again and her smile faded when his did too, “There was never anyone else I wanted. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am for making you think that and upsetting you. That was never my intention.”

She hesitated a moment before swiping a few stray strands of hair from his forehead. “It’s okay. I know that now.”

There was still a look of uncertainty in his eyes, like he didn’t deserve to be forgiven and like he still wasn’t sure she was actually going to stay, and he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to.

“I’m not going to leave again, Harry…” she assured, practically reading his mind in a way she had never been able to. “Not unless you want me to of course.” 

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips as he grew closer, close enough to press his forehead to hers and swipe his thumb along her cheekbone, “No, I don’t want that. I never wanted that.”

Although he was still smiling, sadness fell over his eyes that he quickly hid by flicking them down to her lips. She had already been in love with the way he looked at her mouth, but if it was even possible, she liked it more now. Now that they weren’t being idiots and wasting time. Now that both of their mouths had said things they’d been meaning to for a long time now.

He glanced back to her yes, all sadness stripped from his face now, “S'alright if I--”

She cut him off, already nodding before he had a chance to ask. She didn’t want him to ask that question ever again. She didn’t want him to worry about being too forward, about hurting her, about crossing a line. There was no line for him to cross. She just wanted him to kiss her without thinking about it.

And he did. It took him another few moments, but his lips were on hers again and it felt just as amazing as it did last night and then again this morning. She hated that she could have been kissing him for a long time now, but she tried not to dwell on her mistakes too heavily. Not when he was kissing her the way he was and all she wanted to focus on was his lips and his tongue and his hands.

His hands that fled from her face moments after she brushed her tongue against his and things took a turn from innocent kissing in his kitchen to needy hands sliding up the back of her shirt and wet moans from his lips when she pressed into him. It helped her confidence knowing his fingertips were inching closer to her bra, the one she was grateful she had on right now.

And then she wrapped her hands around his forearms and backed away before he got any further. But when she saw the look on his face, she wasn’t sure that was the right move. He was absolutely terrified. He pulled his arms from her grasp quickly and put an inch or two of space between them again.

“I’m so sorry.”

Again, she put a halt to his train of thought with a simple gesture. She shook her head and reached her hand up to his face, wrapping it around the back of his neck and pressing her thumb where his dimple should be. 

“Don’t be… just meet me upstairs in ten minutes.” Her voice was soft, but her eyes might as well have been undressing him right there in the middle of his kitchen. Although that would have been nice, she really didn’t want him to see her in her lacy underwear in his fucking kitchen. The lights were too bright for her liking and she never got the chance to warm up to the space as much as she did his bedroom. 

His body eased and then he nodded slowly, never looking away from her while she pulled her hand from his face, grabbed her bag and walked away from him. 

Ten minutes was way too much time to be away from her and he spent the whole spanse of time staring at the clock, wishing it would go faster but also wishing it wouldn’t. He had no idea what she was up to and even though his mind went crazy with all the endless possibilities, he just hoped that whatever it was, she knew what she was doing. 

She squeezed her hands around the arms of his chair when she heard him heading up the stairs. She didn’t move, however, just focused on her breathing as she convinced herself not to run into his bathroom and hide before he made it to her.

Ten minutes was four minutes too long. She sat down and realized that once every piece of her body was set aflame with anticipation. She knew what she wanted, but she still wasn’t sure about him. What if he didn’t want her? 

The events from last night flew past her eyelids. He kissed you because he wanted to, not because he was drunk, she reminded herself. And he kissed you again, moments ago in the kitchen, also not because he was drunk. She thought about his touch on her skin, slowly inching up her back. She thought about his words from last night and they settled her nerves down to a minimum.

That was until he appeared in the doorway to his bedroom.

He sucked in a breath of air seeing her in that familiar spot in the middle of his room. Sitting on her throne and looking out over Los Angeles like she owned it. But it was hardly what he expected when she told him to meet her here. Especially when she didn’t even look at him, just tensed up her shoulders and her grip on the chair when she noticed his presence.

“Everything alright?” He asked and she continued to just stare out the windows, nodding and trying to regain whatever courage she had in order to ask him to do this in the first place.

He furrowed his brows, confused as he walked over to his bedside table and removed his phone and wallet from his back pockets and then each of his rings from his fingers, knowing that whatever she was planning, he didn’t want anything weighing him down. It also gave them both a moment to relax.

Right when he began removing his watch, the last thing on him besides his shirt and jeans, she stood and took a few steps in his direction. He froze and looked at her while she hugged her arms around herself. He realized then that she was wearing a robe which looked an awful lot like one of his. If the lighting was better, he’d be able to make out the stitching on the left breast of his last name and confirm that she had, in fact, slipped into his robe while she made him wait downstairs.

“What are you--?”

He stopped talking, and stopped thinking and probably stopped breathing when she untied the belt around her waist and let both halves of the robe fall open to reveal what she’d been hiding underneath. His watch hit the floor instead of the table. 

He swallowed thickly, not sure how long was too long to stare at her like he currently was with his jaw slightly ajar and his eyes refusing to blink in case he might miss something. 

When he snapped out of it, he walked over to her finally, not giving a single shit about his watch.  He stood in front of her and kept his hands to himself even though it was painful to do so. Instead, his eyes flickered to the embroidery on the silky fabric draped over her shoulders and he grinned, “S’that my robe?” 

It was a dumb question, because of course it was his. It had his name stitched into it. 

“Hope it’s okay that I borrowed it.” She ran her fingers up the hem and made him light-headed. Her matching pink lace underwear was one thing, but the robe was almost too much for him to process.  

He dragged his eyes reluctantly from her breasts, the transparent material showing off more of her than he’d ever seen, and back up to her eyes. “If I say it isn’t, will you take it off?”

She smiled at him and then took one step closer. “Why don’t you,” she began, grabbing his hands and placing them on her bare hips, “take it off yourself?”

Her voice was shaky and even though her actions exuded confidence, he knew her anxiety must be through the roof. He knew her too well. He knew she didn’t like being touched, didn’t like being seen when she wasn’t covered. Didn’t like being open. It soothed his own nerves to know that all of the things she didn’t like became things she did, as long as it was with him. The only thing on his radar now was making her as comfortable as he possibly could.

When she let go of his hands, he kept them there, pulling her in to close the gap she’d left between them until his mouth found hers again. He’d daydreamed through his entire meeting about kissing her the entire rest of the night, but that was no match to the reality of it. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect her to be standing in front of him like she was, putting his hands on her body in a whole new way than ever before.

His fingers slid gently up to her shoulders where he slipped them under the silk until it fell right off her skin and gathered into a pool at her feet. He pulled away for a moment, resting his forehead on hers when she reached for more. He smirked at the way she pouted impatiently. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, bringing a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear and he didn’t give her much of a chance to respond, but the blush on her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes said more than enough. 

Once his lips were on hers again, he backed her up slowly, stepping right on top of his, now irrelevant, robe until they reached the chair. 

She pulled away from him this time and when she spoke next, there wasn’t a stitch of hesitation in her voice, “I want you.”

Swallowing, he nodded in understanding. She knew exactly what she was doing and she wanted him. His hands were back on her hips as he gently coerced her into the chair.

“Sit,” he whispered and she did exactly what he said without a second thought. 

She was back in her chair in front of him, her hands gripping the armrests while she looked up into his eyes eagerly because she had no clue what he was planning but she trusted him to know that whatever it was, he wouldn’t hurt her. He was Harry and he’d never make her do something she didn’t want to. 

He sunk to his knees then and she already felt the pool between her legs before he even touched her. He never took his eyes off of her when he lifted his hands to her knees and slowly slid them apart to fit himself in the middle. He waited for any signs that he should stop, but when she glanced down at his hands that sat idly on her thighs, he figured it was a good time to move them.

“Is this alright?” He asked after he’d hooked his fingers under what little fabric there was of her panties and paused to make sure. When she nodded, he proceeded and began pulling them off. He went slow, almost painfully for her, but she was appreciative of it. If he went much faster she wasn’t sure how she’d respond and ruining everything right now was not on her agenda.

Again, his eyes stayed planted on hers as he tugged the lace over her hips when she adjusted slightly to give him room to do so. They went the rest of the way down her legs with ease until they, too, were on his bedroom floor. Her legs fell back into place around him as he slotted into his previous position. She focused on everything physically here and now as best she could, whether it was the way he looked at her, or the way the fabric of his shirt felt on her knees, the rough texture of his jeans on her calves. Just knowing that it was Harry sitting in front of her like this, while she was this exposed, calmed her right back down. Well, at least, it calmed the nerves, but she still felt the surge of butterflies in her stomach every time he made a slight movement and she could nearly puke with excitement.

“You okay?” He asked quietly, and her eyes bounced from his down to where their bodies connected and then back up and she nodded. It reassured him because even though she had said she wanted him, she had every right to change her mind.

“Let me know if you want me to stop.”

She nodded again, positive that if she opened her mouth to say something nothing would even come out. Her lack of ability to speak made him smile, though, as he slowly descended down her body. 

He kissed her from her collarbone down to her belly, pulling her legs out around his waist so that she slouched in the chair and gave him better access by the time he reached his destination. His hands gripped her thighs tight as he sat back on his knees and let his mouth do the talking.

She tensed up the second he licked the tip of his tongue into her and he immediately backed away staring up at her in shock that he’d already done something to hurt her.

Instead, she finally opened her own mouth, “I’m sorry, I’m fine. I just… didn’t expect… you can keep going.” 

He fell back into place hesitantly, but this time he kissed his way up her inner thigh, making sure to keep at least one eye on her at all times. When he had his tongue on her again, though, she sunk into her seat with a sigh and he wasn’t as worried. 

When he spread her open with both his hands planted on her inner thighs, his tongue explored even more to the point of finally managing a moan out of her. She didn’t give him a whole lot, but he didn’t really need it the way he watched her like a hawk to make absolutely sure she was really okay. 

And she did seem that way, she seemed more than okay, in fact. Everytime he flicked his tongue over just the right spot, her eyes rolled back into her head and so he made mental notes of everything she liked best. Even though she never closed her eyes completely, never looked away from him for more than a second, what she did do was more than enough. Although he normally got off on verbal praise, just the way her body reacted to him seemed to do all the tricks he needed it to. The way she moved against him, the way her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pouted and she sucked in shaky breaths, he didn’t need anything more than that.

What she did next had him moaning, however. She dug her fingernails into his scalp and tugged his curls, leaving him in stinging pain that felt so fucking incredible. It was just another reminder from her that what he was doing was good and that he made her feel good enough to have her hands at the back of his head trying to get more from him. He fidgeted and shifted his weight just to get some relief himself while he looked at her with darkened green eyes and his tongue suddenly picked up the pace.

She gasped and leaned back into the chair, her eyes fluttering shut. He let her do it for a moment until he slowed to a stop and pulled his mouth away just far enough to speak. 

“Open your eyes,” he whispered, catching his breath, and she felt the heat of it on the sensitive bits his tongue had just been getting to know. She, again, did as he asked without question. His voice wasn’t filled with anything but care for her so no matter what he asked, she’d probably do it.

“Don’t stop looking at me, okay?” 

She agreed, nonverbally, before he even considered continuing where he left off. It wasn’t that he needed to see her face, although that had been a huge factor in telling him what he needed to do. It was mostly that he didn’t want her to close her eyes and have a single stitch of an intrusive thought leak into her brain. He didn’t want her to see anything besides him, not the trauma she’d been through or the face of the asshole who had done it. He wanted her to see him; his green eyes, his dimples, his curly brown hair that tickled her skin and framed his sweaty forehead. He wanted her to see that it was him on his hands and knees in front of her and that his touches would not make her hate her body. They wouldn’t betray her or disrespect her. Her body was safe in his hands and he wanted her to see that.

When he knew she was close, he found her hands digging into the cushion below her and slipped his fingers through hers instead, letting her squeeze the life out of them and dig crescent shapes into his skin. By this point, he’d become obsessed with her body, in love with the way it said everything her mouth didn’t. He didn’t need her to say anything, though, he never really did. Just being near her had always been more than enough. The only thing he would need her to say now though, was if she wanted him to stop.

But those words never left her lips and he stopped expecting them to as he watched her face contort with pleasure. He wondered if anyone had ever made her feel as good as he was and it made him sad to think she’d gone so long never being treated the way she deserved. He adjusted again and gave her everything he was capable of.

Her body moved against him like a tidal wave and he’d probably let her drown him if it meant feeling her buck her hips up into his mouth the way she was and he’d most definitely die at the hands of her body if it meant feeling her heels dig into his back for an ounce of mercy. He didn’t give her very much though, mostly because the look on her face told him that if he stopped now, she might actually kill him. 

Even so, he worshiped the fuck out of her in every sense of the word. He never looked away, he watched her mouth as it fell open. He watched her eyebrows as they furrowed. And most importantly, he watched her eyes until she couldn’t take it anymore and they crossed back into her head, while her whole body shivered against him. He felt her coming more than he heard anything about it at first. 

But then she whispered and he completely forgot what he was doing. 

“I love you so much, Harry.”

He blinked, looking up at her so much more in love than he ever had been before. He wanted to kiss her, to hear her say it again ten more times at least. When her hips shifted upwards again, he snapped out of it and scooted closer to her to gain some control while she was losing it, using his forearms on her hips to keep her in place. That had only led her to squeeze his hands tighter than ever before while her thighs got him in a choke hold, but he loved every single second of it, which is why he didn’t take his tongue away from her until she settled down. 

She breathed heavily for a few moments while he watched her come down from her high as he rested his cheek against her thigh and stared up at her, still holding onto her hands and rubbing his thumb across the back of one of them. He heard her words over in his head again and they became his most favorite words ever.

“So you do love me?” He asked quietly, not wanting to miss too much of the sounds of her catching her breath because of what he’d just done to her body.

She laughed and fluttered her eyes shut again. After a moment, she shook her head and changed the subject, “Please don't ever leave this house.”

He chuckled, sending cool air against her core again while he leaned over to kiss her thigh softly, “Whatever you say.”

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#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #onlyhuman

[terrm9]

Could you share more of Chiara's and Bryce's story? Did they ever make out? Does he know her family? That friendship is golden🌟

I will be happy to share their story <3 (this turned out rather long. Sorry if you didn’t want THAT much:D also I am once again adding my taglist and once again please ignore the tag if you do not care about this weird sort of fic:D)

It was her first day. First day as a doctor, first day out of safety of a med school and known cities and Dr. Ramsey already hated her and she screwed up with Annie and this is not what she wanted. Chiara desperately needed a cigarette to calm her blazing senses but she couldn’t quite well leave the hospital to smoke and so she hid in the nearest supply closet and hoped for the best. And then Bryce - she was happy to remember his name - walked in and before she could tell him to go away, he sat on the floor next to her and smiled. And Chiara’s heart fluttered in her chest because he had Liam’s smile. The wide, bright, warm smile that looked like it could snap his face in two pieces. And he smelled good and leaned so close and Chiara didn’t know what has gotten into her but she kissed him. And damn, the kiss calmed her down just right.

Until she realized what happened. She broke the kiss and looked at the Bryce, terrified. It is not like she never kissed mindlessly before - even though she never dated in the med school, she did attend a party here and there and it’s not like kissing is a big deal. And Bryce’s lips were very kissable. But this was not a med school party, this was a supply closet in a hospital she just started to work in.

“I am so sorry,” she stuttered. “I don’t do this normally, I swear!”

“I bet you usually don’t cry in a supply closet either,” Bryce grinned, not a single hint of tension in that smile and after the pep talk, they both left the supply closet with the wide smiles on their faces.

And they clicked that day. The smile remained on Chiara’s face and she just felt it in her gut that this Lahela guy just became her first friend in Boston. Little did she know back than that he would become her best friend for life.

Soon, they started to meet on their lunch breaks intentionally and it was for the first time in six years that Chiara let someone get close to her, close enough to call him friend. And he still reminded her of Liam, with his teasing and jokes and that smile. And he was the first person to remind her her brother without the reminder being painful. It actually felt great. Heartwarming. She felt happy.

And Bryce felt happy too. There was something about Chiara being so sincere and just such a good person that let him believe that even if she did find out about his family and its history, she wouldn’t see him as an asshole. Chiara made it easy to believe that he could have real friends somewhere out there.

The physical attraction between them was undeniable. And so they kissed often. No strings attached, just two people that enjoyed each other’s lips. After two months of their friendship, Chiara realized that she hasn’t had a cigarette in weeks. Bryce’s smile and his words and his kisses calmed her down even better.

The first time their kisses turned into a hook up was after the housewarming party. It felt great, because how could it not. But there was no spark that would indicate that those hook up could turn into something more and they made it clear that best friends is what they are. Best friends that help each other blow some steam off occasionally.

It was at the time when Chiara admitted to herself that she truly liked Ethan, that she also realized that she and Bryce were spending more and more time as best friends without the benefit of physical touch. Adventures, swimming in the lakes and picnics, roadtrip to New York and karaoke nights, movies in his apartment and roommies nights that Bryce was automatically invited to.

It was one night when she stayed over for a night at Bryce’s place and he laughed on something, a genuine, rich laugh that had her stare at him for longer that would be appropriate.

“What?” Bryce asked when he noticed her intense gaze.

“You laugh like him, too. Exactly like him,” she whispered and Bryce’s smile fell of his face because Chiara just shared something she never shared with him before. 

“Like who?”

“My brother,” she answered slowly, still lost in her weird state.

“Oh, he must be awesome, then,” he grinned.

“He was,” Chiara nodded.

It was that very moment when the first tear fell from her eyes and she spilled her heart. She told Bryce everything, about Liam and Dorian and her family never being the same again and it was the first time in six years, the first time since the accident that she talked about it to anyone besides her family. And it felt like healing.

Then she left to Miami. When she came back, something was off, Bryce could tell. She told him the same day she returned that the hookups needed to stop and Bryce agreed, because no matter how much they enjoyed those, it started to feel weird. Their friendship was deeper than that. Chiara even admitted that there is a man in her life which she fell for and it feels all kinds of wrong to kiss anyone else and she never told him who it was but Bryce is perceptive and celever and he came to know her so very well and she didn’t need to tell him for him to know. But who was he to push her to tell him anything?

Their friendship kept frowing stronger and stronger every day and even without Bryce’s kisses, Chiara didn’t feel the need to smoke. One hug, one whispered “you got this, Chiaris” and she calmed down enough to get through her day.

But then Ethan left the hospital and with it, he left Chiara. And life became just too much to bear, because Naveen, her dear Naveen, was dying and Ethan left her alone and Mrs. Martinez died and she could lose her license and one night, she was so alone and overwhelmed and so she left the apartment to take a walk and smoke a cigarette or two. She called Bryce, instead.

“Hey,” his sleepy voice greeted her. “Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not. Everything has gone to shit, Bryce,” Chiara sobbed into the phone.

“Where are you?”

“Walking around the block.”

“Go home, you’ll catch cold. I’ll be there in thirty.”

With that, he hung up and showed at the doorstep in thirty minutes. And he hugged Chiara and promised to stay by her side no matter what happens next.

After Ethan left to Amazon, Chiara couldn’t really blame him. She couldn’t hate him, no matter how much she wished she could. But it still did hurt. And after the year she has had, Chiara just... wanted to go home. And so she asked for a vacation and Naveen quickly approved her two weeks off (because Naveen knew) and then Chiara dared to ask Bryce if maybe he would like to visit San Francisco with her.

Of course he would like that. So he did.

Chiara knew that Bryce would be just fine, that he would fit, that he would get along with her mom and her sister, because well, it was Bryce. She never expected for them to love each other so much after those two weeks. Diana Ray LOVES Bryce. She found a son in him and for the first time in his lifetime, Bryce Lahela knows what a mother’s love feels like.

Bryce and Diana keep in touch. She sends him a gift on his birthday and Christmas and he sends her a postcard from every single one of his trips.

“Hey, Chiara,” Bryce smiled one day, deep into the second year of their residency, as he sat down next to Chiara. “Mom asked me to say hi to you!”

“Uh...” Chiara furrowed her brows in an utter confusion. “Why would she send her greetings through you? She could’ve called me.”

“Well, your facetime day is Saturday.”

“And?”

“And ours is Wednesday. It is sooner.”

“You face-timed mom yesterday?”

“Yup! She is doing great, don’t worry,” Bryce smiled. Not grinned, not smirked, smiled so sincerely Chiara’s heart hurt in her chest because Bryce just became a part of her family and there was no better feeling.

Even after Chiara got together with Ethan, Bryce visits San Francisco with Chiara every summer and there might have been times when he visited without Chiara, too. He sends selfies in his scurbs and doctor’s coat to Diana regularly along with a caption “Have an amazing day! Love you!!!” and Diana shows those photos to her colleagues proudly, because her daughter is an amazing diagnostician and her son is an exceptional surgeon and of course he cannot replace Liam, but he can heal some of her scars and she loves him like her own child.

And Alicia loves Bryce just as much, because she misses having an older brother and also because Bryce is fun. He is a doctor but he still manages to be funny, which Alicia teases Chiara constantly about.

Things change when Alicia meets Keiki (Alicia is 21, Keiki is 17 at the time) and whoa, Keiki is the funny Lahela! And so in the end both Chiara and Bryce are the boring older siblings.

I will end here because this is already much longer than I intended and I could go on forever, I think about this friendship way too often.

Feel free to send any more questions about Chiara! It makes me incredibly happy that you guys enjoy her character.

@takemyopenheart @maurine07 @senseofduties @mercury84choices @flightlessbirdiee @udishaman @honeyandsunfl0wers @ohchoices @adrex04 @queencarb @archxxronrookie @whatchique @drariellevalentine @gryffindordaughterofathena @mvalentine @doilooklikeiknow @custaroonie @secretwolfdreamertree @jamespotterthefirst @starrystarrytrouble @caseyvalentineramsey @open-heart-ramseyyy @whimsicallywayward15 @iemcpbchoices @stygianflood @tsrookie @fireycookie @canigetanawwjunk

#open heart #chiara ray #open heart mc #bryce lahela #chiara & bryce #friendship

[rmtndew]

Begin Again

Summary: Walter Marshall is a dedicated homicide detective doing his best to balance his work life with being a single father to a teenage girl. Fiona Sparks is a woman doing her best to take care of everyone and everything around her, except for herself. Neither has had the best luck with relationships, but once they meet, they’re willing to give it another shot, this time with each other. (It’s basically just romantic fluff) 

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This is a sequel to ‘All I’ve Ever Known’. I started writing this because I needed an escape for some personal stuff going on and my coping mechanism included giving Marshall all the love that man needed, and imagining him being the softest boyfriend to me, then passing those details on to Fiona (my OFC).

I also made a Spotify playlist for this story, if anyone is interested - Begin Again Playlist 

 Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @alyxkbrl, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0​, @gearhead66,  @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora, @justaboringadult, @beenthroughalot, @seriouslygoodlookinggents,  @xxxkatxo

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

The last Wednesday in October was a gray, misty, windy day. It was cold, the kind you felt more in your bones than anywhere else, with the sky occasionally spitting out sleet. I spent the entire twenty-minute drive to my job at Waverly Catering clutching the steering wheel so tightly that my hands were cramping by the time I arrived from white-knuckling it the whole way there. Usually, I would get to work early enough to enjoy the silence and finish off my coffee before officially starting my workday. That day, however, I spent the very little extra time I had trying to get my hands to stop hurting, then chugged down my coffee that had cooled dramatically to a gross lukewarm temperature. 

Before going in, I checked my phone. I always kept it on silent while I drove. My mom had a tendency to text me, make a dozen spelling mistakes because of auto-correct, then correct them one by one, leaving me with about thirteen separate texts to read. It didn’t use to bother me, I thought it was charming and very distinctly Mom. But when she’d gotten sick at the beginning of the year, every text she sent that I couldn’t read immediately made me panic, worrying that something terrible had happened to her, even when I’d just seen her at home a few minutes before. So for my sanity - and hers - I started putting my phone on silent until I got to work, or wherever else I was going. It was a habit I’d kept even after she’d gone into remission because her cancer may have been gone, but my anxiety over her wasn’t. 

That morning when I checked my phone, I saw that I had two texts, but they weren’t from Mom. 

Marshall:  Good morning, Fi. I hope that I get to see you today. I’ll be chained to  my desk with paperwork for a while. This is the first time I’ve not dreaded it. You’re my silver lining.

That was cheesy. I’m sorry. I’m bad at this.

And just like that, all of my stress melted away. The weather didn’t matter, my disappointing coffee didn’t matter, even the cramping in my hands didn’t matter. All that did matter was that Walter Marshall thought of me as his silver lining. Yes it was early days, yes we’d barely known each other a month, yes we’d only gone on two dates, but he made me happier than I’d been in a long time. I felt like I’d been holding my breath for two years, starting when my dad had died in a car crash, followed by my boyfriend Ezra breaking up with me, then losing my job as an interior designer, and capping off with my mom’s cancer diagnoses. Then Walter came along and it was like I could finally breathe again. 

Me:  Please don’t apologize. You have no idea how much I needed to read that this morning. Feel free to be as  cheesy as you want. And I hope I get to see you today, too, even if it  means you’re chained to your desk.

Marshall:  If I don’t see you for some reason,  can I call you tonight? I miss your  voice and you make me want to get better at this talking thing. 

I could feel myself blushing. Even over the phone he made me feel like a teenager with a crush. I had no idea that anyone could make me feel that way as an adult, but he did every time he texted me. 

Me:  Of course you can. Even if we do see  each other, you can still call, if you want? Practice makes perfect, and all that.

Marshall: I’d like that. Talk to you soon.

I sat back in my seat with a sigh as I looked out at the sleet falling from the gray sky, spattering my windshield, blurring out the image of the trees in the park across from me blowing and bending in the wind. 

It was going to be a good day. 

“You look...dare I say it? Happy?” Darcy said as I walked into her office.

I smiled. “You may dare to say it because yes, I am quite happy.”

“And what brings you to such an extreme emotion so early on such a disgusting day?”

I went to her desk and sat in the chair opposite her. “Well, for one, I know that you’re about to do me a big favor that I will forever be grateful for.”

“Fiona Sparks asking for a favor? I’ll mark the day in my calendar,” she joked. “What kind of favor do you need?”

“I need a copy of the peanut butter cookie recipe.”

“For what purpose?” 

“See, that’s where the happiness part comes into play and you, being one of my dearest friends, would love to see me happy.” 

“I would but I’m unsure how a cookie recipe is going to do that.”

“It’s not for me,” I said, smiling wide. “I met this guy -” 

“What? Who?” she asked enthusiastically, her eyes wide with excitement.

“His name is Walter Marshall. He’s our detective who never changes his lunch order.”

“You’re dating one of the homicide detectives? You can feel free to thank me later for giving you that order, by the way. But right now I want details: How long have you been dating and why am I just now finding out about it?”

“We’re not technically dating. I met him a few weeks ago for the first time and we went on two dates last week.” 

“You haven’t dated anyone in over two years, and then you go on two dates in one week?”

“Well, the first was just a coffee date. Saturday we tried having a proper one.” 

“Tried?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. 

“He wanted to take me to dinner, so we went to an Italian place, but before we could order, his daughter called. She was supposed to be at a Halloween party, but some of her friends had lied to her, I guess, and it ended up being a basement party with slightly older boys and she felt uncomfortable, so we went and picked her up. Then we all went for pizza together.”

“He has a daughter, which is some heavy baggage to begin with, but you met her on your second date? That’s a lot, Fiona.” 

“I know it seems like it, but it’s really not. She’s a good kid. And he’s an amazing father, which, oddly, just makes him more attractive,” I said. “But that’s not the point. The point is that his daughter was, understandably, a little iffy about me being with him when he picked her up until she found out that I’m the one who brings the cookies. She apparently loves them and I told her that I might be able to get her a copy of the recipe and that seemed to pave the way for her not hating me instantly. And she’s thirteen, so that’s a pretty big deal.”

“I have so many questions right now but I can’t sort them all out so I’m going to be annoying you with them all day, just be prepared for that. All I want to know right now is if you want the recipe laminated or not?” 

I let out a relieved breath. “Yes, please, if you don’t mind. And thank you so much, Darcy. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I do know. You never ask for anything, even simple things, so the fact that you’re willing to ask me for a favor means this is a pretty big deal,” she said. “He must be a good guy.”

I nodded. “He really is.” 

I arrived at the police station that morning a little before eleven. I’d left the shop early, worried the weather might get bad again and didn’t want to be late for my delivery. Thankfully the sleeting had stopped, allowing me to get there a few minutes early. A few minutes that I used up trying to pull my dolly through the parking lot. The lot had been salted, which was good in that at least it wasn’t icy, but the wheels on my dolly didn’t seem to like the brine mixture. They kept locking up on me. Between that and having to fight against the roaring wind, it took me an embarrassingly long time to reach the station door. Before I could push it open, someone opened it from the inside for me. I looked up, expecting to see Officer Bates. He was the security officer that was posted downstairs and always went through the containers full of lunches that I brought to the homicide unit every week. Instead, I saw Marshall.

“Hello,” he said with a smile. 

I immediately felt like giggling. The last time I’d seen him, we’d kissed. And seeing him right then, seeing his beautiful, handsome face, I wanted so badly to kiss him again. Instead, I felt myself grow shy as I blushed so fiercely that my cheeks stung with the new heat that rushed to them. 

“Hi,” I said. He pulled the door open all the way, then stepped back, allowing me to walk in. My stomach fluttered as I looked back at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He closed the door behind me. “May I help you with your cart?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Would you let me help you take it back to your car when you leave, at least?”

I fought every instinct inside of me that insisted I say no. Darcy was right: I hated asking for even simple things. I never wanted to burden anyone. But since I’d met Marshall, I’d learned that his way of showing interest or affection was to do things for me. But he always asked first, wanting my permission. It challenged me, but in a good way. I didn’t need to always go it alone if I didn’t have to. 

“Um, yeah, I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” I said. “The wheels didn’t seem to agree with the salted parking lot. You could probably pull it a lot easier than me.” 

Marshall stayed with me as Officer Bates went through the containers I’d brought in. He wasn’t close enough to make anyone passing by question it, but it was close enough that my hand hanging at my side could feel the heat coming from his hand and forearm, that was visible from the blue henley that was pushed up to his elbows in a way that I found incredibly attractive. My fingers itched to seek out his, but I fought it. Keeping them obediently beside me. Once Officer Bates was done and gave me the all clear to take the food up, Walter walked me to the elevator and pressed the button to call it down. Then he held the door back, letting me in first before following me. After the door slid closed, he fell back half a step, putting him right beside me. His hand bumped mine, his fingers snaking through, gently holding mine. I smiled, knowing I wasn’t the only one itching for contact. 

I turned without a thought and placed a kiss on his shoulder. Then I paused, a moment of panic rising in me that maybe we weren’t at that level yet. But before I could move or feel too worried, he placed a kiss on the top of my head.

“I keep thinking about Saturday,” he whispered. 

“Me, too,” I said. I looked up at him. “It was...pretty amazing.”

He smiled. I could see his sharp canine teeth. They were oddly charming. “Yes, it was.” He laced his fingers with mine more securely, properly holding it. “I know I mentioned calling you tonight, but I hoped that we might have dinner again instead. If you’re not busy?”

“I’m exceptionally not busy tonight.”

“Good.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead before turning his head back to face the elevator door. “I won’t be able to finish all my paperwork today, there’s too much and it keeps multiplying like rabbits, so since I have to do it tomorrow anyway, I’m going to knock off here around five. Could I pick you up after that? Around five-thirty, perhaps?” 

I nodded, smiling. “That sounds great.”

The elevator dinged as we reached the homicide unit floor. He gave my hand a couple of gentle squeezes before letting it go as the door slid open. He stepped out, then held the door for me like he had before, letting me pull my cart out. He walked with me almost all the way to the break room before a shorter man with glasses stopped him. 

“Lieutenant Marshall, can I speak with you in your office for a moment?” he asked. 

“Of course.” Walter touched my shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said to me quietly before leaving for his office. 

I continued on and was met by most of the detectives waiting for me. Like usual, they didn’t talk to me much, just thanking me for the food before taking their box and going. I took my time, hoping that by the time that I was done, the man speaking with Walter would be gone before I brought him his lunch. When I was done, I packed up my cart before taking Marshall’s boxed lunch and walked down the hall, finding the door to his office open. I could hear him talking still and wasn’t sure what to do. I’d made a deal with him a few weeks back to always bring his lunch to his office whenever I delivered - the first time was because a uniformed officer looked like he was going to swipe it, after that, it was to thank him for rescuing me from a pushy creep while I was with my ‘friends’. We’d never discussed if I should interrupt while he was working. I chewed my lip, debating what to do for several seconds before deciding to just take a chance and knock on the door frame. The worst case scenario was that I looked like a very dedicated delivery woman making sure that all of my orders reached their proper owners. 

“Yep. Come in,” Walter called out in response to my knocking.

I entered his office only far enough to be seen and not a step further. I didn’t know if Marshall wanted people to know about us, so I was prepared to make a quick exit if I needed to. “I have a delivery for Detective Marshall,” I said. 

He looked at me and smiled, then waved me in further. “Harper, this is Fiona Sparks. Fiona, this is Commissioner Harper.”

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I said. 

“You, too.” He looked at me over the top of his glasses. “You don’t happen to be related to Rodger Sparks, by any chance?” 

I felt speechless for a moment. I hadn’t heard anyone other than Mom say Dad’s name in months. Finally, I forced myself to nod. “Yes. He was my dad. How - how did you know?” 

“We went to college together. You’re the spitting image of him,” he said. “I was sorry to hear about him passing away. I lost my wife around two years ago as well. A brain aneurysm.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t get any easier.” 

“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed.

He looked at me for a moment longer, then back to Marshall, who was standing patiently with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked back at me briefly before taking the folder he was holding and tapped it against Marshall’s shoulder. “You know what? This can wait until tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll bring it by in the morning.” He left Walter and stopped beside me before leaving the office. “I’m very sorry about your father. Rodger was a horrible sport when he lost at cards, but other than that, he was a great guy. And probably the smartest man I ever met.”

I smiled slightly. “He was a horrible sport at cards.” 

He smiled back. “The worst.” He gave me a wink. “It was a pleasure seeing you.” 

“You, too.”

When he left, he closed the door behind him. I looked at Marshall as he walked towards me. “Did I interrupt something important?” I asked. 

“No. He was just asking about a cold case.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come in since he was here. Next time, if you’re talking to someone, would you rather I left your lunch in the break room?”

He stopped in front of me. He was so close. He smelled like coffee and Old Spice. I swallowed thickly, trying to meet his gaze as he looked down at me. He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No. I’d still like you to bring it to me, please. If that’s alright?” 

“Yeah, of course. I just don’t want to get in the way of your job.”

“You won’t,” he said. “But I’ve let my job get in the way of other things for too long, so maybe it’s time someone got in the way of it for a bit.” 

“You have an important job, though. If you were a boat salesman, I might feel a little differently about disrupting your work.” 

His smile grew as he tilted his head at me. “A boat salesman?” 

“I mean a job where it wouldn’t really matter all that much if you were distracted every once in a while. If someone doesn’t sell a boat, it’s not that big of a deal. But if you don’t solve a murder case...that has very real repercussions. I wouldn’t want to be a reason for something slipping by in a case.” 

He put his hand on my cheek, directing my eyes back to his. “That won’t happen,” he said. “I take my job seriously. That’s never been a problem for me. My problem has always been figuring out how to balance it with the rest of my life, which I never could, and I neglected a lot of people because of it. Especially Faye.” He shook his head. “I’m still not good at it. But I had a case back in the winter that...put Faye’s safety in jeopardy, among other things, and it made me realize that I need to put more of an effort in my life outside of this job. Despite how hard that is for me.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “You motivate me to slow down a bit. And that’s a good thing.”

I took my free hand and placed it over his, then turned my face slightly and placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “I would be happy to slow down with you,” I whispered. 

Marshall had a smile that somehow showed in his eyes more than his mouth, and that’s how he was looking at me right then. “I’d like that.” 

A knock on the door startled me. I took a step back, his hand falling from my cheek. He then ran it over his face, almost like he was trying to scrub the irritation of being interrupted off it. Then he folded his arms across his chest before calling out for whoever it was to come in.

The door opened and a man stepped up to the doorway. He was wearing plain clothes like Walter, so I assumed he was a detective, too. He all but ignored me as he and Walter spoke. Half of what they said was in a jargon I didn’t understand, so I just stood there, head down, waiting. After a few minutes, the guy left, only halfway closing the door as he did. When Marshall finally turned back to me, I could see that he was frustrated. I knew he wouldn’t admit it, but me being at his work right then was only going to cause more irritation with every interruption we had. 

“As much as I hate it, I should probably get back to the shop. We have a big order going out tomorrow, so there’s quite a lot to do today to prepare for it,” I said. “Plus, I have a date with a very handsome detective tonight that I want to get ready for.”

The frustration on his face seemed to melt away as he looked at me with a smirk. “Is it anyone I know?”

“Possibly. He does work in your unit.” 

“Is that so?” he asked. I nodded. “Well, if I see him around, I might have to have a talk with him.”

“And what would you say?” 

“I’d tell him that he better be good to you because you deserve to be treated well.” 

My stomach fluttered. “You can rest assured that he treats me very well. Better than any man ever has.”

“All those other men were idiots.”

I smiled. “Maybe so.” 

He shook his head. “Definitely so.” He reached out and took his lunch from my hand, then turned and placed it on a filing cabinet behind him. “Will you let me help you to your car now?” 

I nodded. “Yes, please.”

He put on his coat and followed me to the break room. He pulled my dolly for me, moving it like it was as light as a child’s toy. Even when we made it to the parking lot, he didn’t seem to have any issue with the wheels fighting against him. Then he picked it up and placed it in my trunk with ease, despite how I very often fought to get it back in. I thought about telling him that he was welcome to help me anytime he wanted, but I was afraid it wouldn’t come across as a joke and he would feel obligated to actually help. 

“Thank you. You made my morning a lot easier,” I said after I closed the trunk. I looked at him. “I guess I’ll see you around five-thirty?”

He nodded. “I’ll call you when I leave here, but yeah, I should be there by then,” he said. “And I promise it’ll only be the two of us and no cheap pizza.” 

“To be honest, I quite liked the pizza. It didn’t taste cheap. And I really, truly didn’t mind Faye joining us, but it'll be nice to have dinner with just you tonight,” I said. “But that reminds me - I put a copy of our cookie recipe for Faye in your lunch box.” 

He smiled. “Thank you. She’ll be very excited about that.”

“You’re welcome. And let her know if she has any issues with it, she can call or text me.” 

The crease between his eyebrows appeared as he looked at me thoughtfully. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. I’ve made them enough times over the last year and a half to make every mistake you can with them. If she has a problem, I can probably diagnose it over the phone.” 

“You don’t mind her having your number?”

I felt my facial expressions mirroring his, but from confusion. “Of course I don’t mind. As long as you’re okay with it,” I said. “Unless you think your ex-wife would mind? I don’t want to step on her toes or anything.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think Angie would mind for that purpose, and I don’t have a problem with it. But I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I don’t but I’ll leave it up to you. If you’d feel more comfortable being the middleman you can always call me for her.” I gave him a big smile. “And I can help you practice the whole talking thing. Then it’s a two birds with one stone kind of deal.” 

He smiled back, nodding his head. “And if she doesn’t need help?” 

“You can still call.” I shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, you don’t have to have a reason for calling. If I’m not at work, I’m usually pretty free. I may be cooking, or watching ‘The Golden Girls’ with Mom, but that’s about it,” I said. “I’m afraid you’re courting quite a socially boring person.”

He laughed. “I’m not sure if you’ve caught on, but I’m not exactly a sociable person, either,” he said. “So perhaps we make a good fit for each other.”

“Perhaps so,” I agreed. “We can be selectively social together.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

I let out a sigh and watched my breath turn to steam in front of me. “I better let you get back to your paperwork and I need to go help Darcy at the store. We have over fifty loaves of bread to bake before the end of the day, so depending on when I get home, you may have to deal with your date smelling like freshly baked bread.” 

He squinted slightly. “I’m not really opposed to that,” he joked with a smile that showed off the sharp ends of his canine teeth. 

I laughed. “Good to know.” 

He gave me a short hug, kissing my cheek as he pulled back. “I’ll see you this evening.” 

“I’m looking forward to it.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Walter Marshall #Walter Marshall fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #Night Hunter #Night Hunter fan fiction #Nomis #Nomis fan fiction #Henry Cavill fanfiction #Henry Cavill fanfic #detective walter marshall #Begin Again

[secretlynestaarcheron]

ANGSTMAS DAY TWO

Nessian AU // “I fucking love you” “hang up, and tell me this when you’re sober”

word count: 1753

TW: mild swearing 

Nesta pulls her books to her chest as she leans against the lockers, her eyes scanning the crowded hall until they land on their target. Cassian Valeris. He was across the hall from him, pulling books out of his own locker as two of his teammates joke loudly around him. 

“What are you looking at?” Mor asks, turning to face the same direction as Nesta, as her eyes land on Cassian she scoffs and turns back to her locket. “Seriously, you're still on this? You’ve had a crush on him for way too long, it's time to throw in the towel.” 

Nesta turns to face Mor, leaning her head against the locker as she watches her friend intently. “Maybe you’re right,” she mumbles, but Mor wasn’t right. At the beginning of the term Cassian and Nesta had been paired together for a lab assignment. They would meet together in the library to work on the project and the meetings just continued after the project was submitted. 

Mor turns to give her a pointed look. “He doesn’t even look your way,” Mor retorts. Nesta smiles sheepishly, hiding it behind her books, she wonders what Mor would say if she saw how Cassian looked at her hidden in the shelves of the library. How he looked at her before they kissed. “What about Tomas?” 

Nesta’s eyes moved to the other side of the hall where Tomas was talking to a friend, he would look over at her occasionally. Nesta rolls her eyes. “No thank you,” she replies. “Tomas is a creep. He flirts with freshmen.”

“I am just trying to get you to live a little. You graduate in two months and you haven’t even had a boyfriend yet,” Mor replies, closing her locker with a loud snap. “I want you to head to college with some experience.” 

Nesta shoves Mor lightly as the bell rings. “I have a free period, see you at lunch?” Nesta asks. 

Mor waves her hand. “I’ll have three more candidates by then!” she yells as she moves up the stairs. 

Nesta pulls on the strings of her hoodie as she makes her way to the back of the library, she sits down at the table dropping her backpack on the seat beside her as she pulls out her phone and mindlessly scrolls through instagram. She couldn’t help but think about what Mor was saying earlier. 

She liked Cassian and he seemed to like her, but why hadn’t he asked to take this a step forward? He started texting her more, he would leave notes in her backpack for her to find, and they would sit together every free period. They were basically dating. 

She feels his large arms snake around her waist as he leans over to kiss her cheek. She pulls away from him to turn towards him. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his eyes questioning as he pulls away from her enough to look at her face clearly. 

She shrugs, setting her phone on the table. “I’ve just been thinking,” she replies. He moves to the other side of the table and sits down across from her, looking at her expectantly. “What is this?” she moves her hands around. 

He looks around before looking back at her and giving her a small smile. “This is a library,” he retorts sarcastically. She gives him a look and he chuckles. “You mean, like what’s you and me?” she nods. He stops for a minute, fiddling with the straps of his backpack. “Is this not enough for you?” 

Nesta pauses, “Hiding in the back of the library is enough for you?” she asks. 

He gives her a crooked smile, “Being here with you is enough for me,” he replies reaching over to grab her hand. She looks down at their intertwined fingers and glances back up at him. She pulls her hand back towards him. “We’ve been sitting here every monday, wednesday, and friday for six months. I told you about my mother dying and my biggest insecurities. You call me after practices and tell me about how you’re scared about getting injured and losing your scholarship because that’s the only way you can afford college.” 

Nesta pauses and Cassian stares down at the table. She grabs her backpack. “You leave me notes in my backpack that tell me the things you admire about me but you can’t take me out on a date? You can’t hold my hand in the hallways? You can’t even look at me outside of this library,” she snaps. “Why?” 

He swallows the lump in his throat and looks up at her. “I-,” he begins and Nesta holds her breath as she waits for what he’s going to say. “I am sorry, Nes.” 

She doesn’t bother to ask what he’s apologizing for. He’s sorry that he can’t give her what she wants, a relationship. She knows it’s because of who she is and who he is. The star captain of the football team and the girl who no one will remember at the reunion. 

She doesn’t see him for the rest of the day. She doesn’t see that charming smile or those bright eyes until she stumbles upon an instagram post with him. They had won their game tonight, she didn’t even realize they had a game. 

She throws her phone under her pillow and walks back over to her desk. She had two months left at this school and then she’s off to an IVY league school where she would find like minded people. She just needed to get out of this town. 

She mindlessly flips through her history textbook, scrawling out a few notes every now and then. Her eyes are heavy with sleep. The light on her phone fills the room and she feels the vibration of someone calling her. 

She reaches over and grabs it, seeing a pic she snapped of Cassian in the library fill her screen. Her finger hovers over the accept button, she finally pushes and brings the phone to her ear. “Hello?” she asks weakly, biting her thumb nail as she waits for what he is going to say. 

“Nesta?” he yells, she can hear music and laughter behind him. “Nesta!” he exclaims again. “I didn’t think you would pick up!” 

She frowns when he hears the slurring of his words. She remembers the hurt she felt this morning, he only called her because he was drunk. “How much have you had to drink?” she asks, falling against her bed and staring up at the ceiling. 

He laughs a little too loudy. She hadn’t heard him like this before. Maybe he wasn’t the sweet boy that would whisper her kind words to her in between the shelves. “Nesta, come on, don’t be like that,” he retorts. 

She cringes. Don’t be like what? “You’re the one drunk calling me, Cassian. What do you want?” she asks, slightly annoyed now. 

A door shuts and the music and laughter stops. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation earlier,” he replies, his words slurring together and she rolls on her side waiting to hear what comes next. “I fucking love you Nesta. I’ve never been able to open up as much as I’ve opened up to you.” 

She pauses, biting her bottom lip. Her heart fluttered at the words, she had been waiting for this for months. She shakes her head, “Tell me this when you're sober, Cassian. I don’t care for drunk confessions.” 

He groans, “Don’t be like the Nesta. We know each other.” 

She sits up and runs a hand through her hair. “Do we know each other? I never thought you would be the kind of person that would need to get drunk to tell me how you feel,” she replies. 

“Nes, Nesta, Nessie,” he begs. She cringes. “Did you hear what I said? I love you. I don’t want to lose you. You’re the only one I trust at that damn school.” 

She plays with her hair as she absorbs his words. “So we can go on dates? Walk through the halls together? I can come to your games and wear your jersey? I can tell the world that I am yours and your mine?” she questions. 

There’s a long pause. “I can’t-, you know I can’t, but we can still meet at the library and maybe talk more on the phone,” he says. “I need to be focused on football, I have to be focused on football. You know that.” 

She did know that, more than anyone she guessed. He told her worries almost every night. “Then perhaps you should stick with football and not bother about having a secret girlfriend,” she says her voice stern. She could feel the regret burning in her chest. Her heart wanted her to say yes, that even a small piece of him was enough for her but she knew deep down she wouldn’t be happy long term. She wouldn’t be able to tell those girls that fawned all over him to back off. She wouldn’t be able to go to the movies with him or out to dinner. 

“Nes, don’t be like that, do you not love me?” he asks. 

She rolls her eyes, “This isn’t about if I love you, it’s about if you love me enough to be seen with me in public, I am not about to be your dirty little secret.” 

“Haven’t you enjoyed being together?” he asks. She's quiet, she didn enjoy their meetings but she wanted more. She craved more. “Please don’t do this. Nes. I need you. I need us. I can’t do this without you.” 

It was the alcohol talking, he didn’t actually care about her, he cared about losing something he had control over. She was his little secret, something that was only his, he didn’t have to share with the team or his foster siblings. She was his. She wasn’t anyones but herself. “You’ve been doing it just fine for three and a half years, you’ll be fine,” she replies and with that she hangs up the phone. 

The rest of the night, her phone buzzed every few minutes with apologies from Cassian, but she couldn’t bear to respond. She would be hurt for a while, but she would go to school not as innocent as Mor once thought. She would go to school with a newfound respect for herself and what she deserves. 

#angstmas 2020 #nessian #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #cassian #nessian au #nesta x cassian au #nesta archeron x cassian #nesta archeron x cassian au #acotar fanficition #acomaf

[doodlingstuff]

The Butcher’s Wife

*This starts romantic, fun and sweet, but ends dark, angsty and painful. Read at your own risk.*

Partially based on true events.

You can also read on AO3.

1 Meet the Butcher

The clack of the tumbler against the counter breaks through the loud music of the club. The looks in her direction don’t stop Mary from holding her hand up, asking for another drink.

Her plan today, is drowning herself in alcohol until she forgets.

“That would be one drink too many, love.” Carol says, bringing down Mary’s lifted arm to catch the attention of the bartender.

“I’m paying for them. Got my own money.”

“Oh, you stubborn brat.” Leika says from her other side, grabbing Mary from the shoulders. “It’s not about the money, but your liver.”

“Can get another liver! Can get as many organs as I like!” Mary replies indignant. Her friends should be a support, not a liability.  

Perhaps Mary should’ve tell why she had dragged them to an almost empty club on a Wednesday night.

Leika and Carol watch with disapproval as the next drink is poured. Mary doesn’t care. She will drink as much as she wants. She’ll piss her parents off and then she’ll make her brother Stuart give her an endless reprimand. But she’ll get away with it.  

Mary will do things her way no matter what.

“At least make it last, won’t you?” Carol asks this time, softer.  

“And you could you know, tell us what the fuck has you moaning. Was a man, wasn’t it?”

“You’re like this for a man, sweetheart?” Carol took a strand of blond hair and passed it behind Mary’s ear.

“Tell us the name and he’s dead.”

“Stuart.”

“St- Your brother? What the hell Mary?” Mary gives a sip to her drink before replying.

“And father.” She takes another sip. “And mother.” Mary downs the rest of the liquor and slams the glass again on the counter.

“All Hatfords are f-” Mary is interrupted by her hiccup. “-cking nuts.”

Instead of giving her the oblivion she sought, alcohol is making Mary’s tongue slippery. She must start measuring her words. Not because of her friends though. They know –sort of- that Mary belongs to the British mafia.  

Or at least, they know the basics: big family business, Mary wants to live her own life, Stuart is a clod who is decided to rule with Mary once she turns twenty-one. Today is her twenty-first birthday. The talk didn’t go well. Mary just wants to forget.

But in the meantime, she must be careful of who’s listening to her words. Normal people tend to get spooky when they hear “mafia” out loud and so close.

“What with them now?” Leika asks, bored and stretching out her own hand to buy them drinks. Mary is thankful that her friends know when to stop taking care of her, and start joining the party. They’ll need a cab for sure once they’re done.

“I’m twenty-one today. Time for me to join the biz. I don’t want to. I won’t do it.” Mary finally buries her face in her hands. There’s no point in giving herself a hangover when that isn’t going to fix anything.

“It’s your birthday?” Carol asked, oblivious to the real problem. “We should be partying, not watching you get drunk, love!”

“Why would I celebrate? Stuart has all this plans and my parents agree with him, and I just want to live.”

“Then go live! What’s stopping you?” It’s Leika now the one who slams the glass on the counter. “Hey, you. Another round here!” She shouts to the bartender.

Mary doesn’t waste her breath. She just stares at her friend. They know Mary can’t just walk away from her family. At least not if she intends to reach her next birthday.

“Shit. Your right.” Leika says, reading the dread look in Mary’s eyes.

“But you’ve got tonight. Go have some fun. Drink yourself senseless and tomorrow would be another day. It’s still your birthday after all.”

“You could start by banging that beefcake over there. He has been looking your way for far too long to be decent.”

“Beefcake, you said? Where?” Carol asks, sitting up straight in a careless move, so at odds with her, scanning her surroundings like hound looking for her fox.

“Sit down you moron. He’ll notice.” Leika says, pushing Carol back to her stool. “Right there.” She points a few places away. “The one with auburn hair. What. A. Man.”

“Oh, girl if you’re not taking your birthday present I am.”

Mary allows herself to feel envy of her friends just for ten seconds.

They can have their own lives. They can hookup or marry whoever they choose. They can come and go as they please without having to think about alliances, repercussions or dangers from stepping into the wrong territory.  

If only Mary could be free of that.

It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate what she’s got. She’s fortunate enough to be part of one of the “nicest” of mafia families. The Hatfords are British after all, so they’re not as blood thirsty as others. They run their every affair smoothly, easily. And they only use blunt force when needed. And only what is necessary. Not more, not less.

Those ten seconds are enough for Mary to take a glimpse at the man Leika and Carol are still savoring like one would normally do with a good steak.

Mary no longer wonders why they can’t hold their tongues in place. The chap is a beefcake indeed; strong built, rough hands, pale skin and auburn hair that seems made of copper and bronze under the lights of the club.

He doesn’t look very tall though, but that’s fine for Mary. The Hatfords aren’t a tall bunch.

“Now what? Will you drool all night with us, or you’ll actually do something useful and ask him for a drink?” Leika says.

A smile surprises Mary when it breaks free from her face. She can’t remember the last time she paid attention to a man.

Stuart, mother and father had made clear that Mary wouldn’t have a say if she married someday, and she’d been punished the few times she dared hanging out with someone. She learnt the hard way to keep her hands and eyes to herself.

But tonight, tonight she wants to celebrate and make a statement.  

“No, wait. What if he’s waiting for us to stop crowding her and then he comes to ask her for a drink?” Carol wonders, a spark of illusion making her eyes go wide.

“He’ll have to man up then. I’m not missing this lass’ face and someone has to kick her butt to make her move when he asks.”

“I’m still here, you know?”

“You shoul-Oh my God. Oh my God. OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmy Gooood. He’s walking here.”

“Bloody hell. Act normal.” Leika says, half-slapping Carol to make her turn around and ignore the man walking towards them.

Even meters away, Mary can spot the bright, chilly blue of his eyes shining like diamonds in the dim lights.

He looks like a demon made of fire and ice cutting through the crowd on his way to where Mary is sitting. It certainly looks like he is going for her, but there is no way in heaven and hell that such a man places his eyes in tiny blonde Mary with her dull gray eyes and her small frame that has nothing to do with the exuberant girls staring as the man keeps walking their way.

Mary turns around to see what kind of woman is behind her, but finds empty spots.  

When she turns again, she is surprised by a strong chest close to her face, and a mixed scent of whisky and bergamot.

“Would you grant me a dance, milady?” The stranger asks, a hand stretched in Mary’s direction.

She reacts in a haze that was probably induced by the alcohol, or it might be due to the rumble of the music, or perhaps it was the power behind those eyes that screamed danger all the way.

“Bloody hell. He’s American.” Carol whispers behind Mary’s back as she walks hand in hand with the stranger to the center of the dance floor.

Mary doesn’t have time to worry about her lack of dancing skills once they are in the middle of the crowd. Without letting go of her hand, the man makes her give a turn, and then he presses Mary’s body against his. Mary presses a hand to his chest to keep her balance, and her eyes go up, up to meet the frozen blue waiting for her.

“You looked like you needed a rescue from your friends.” The volume of the music is too loud to speak in a normal volume, but he manages to make it a provocative whisper into her ear, that sends shivers down Mary’s spine. She’s suddenly glad that he’s got a strong grip around her waist.

“Maybe I did.” She replies, steeling her voice so it doesn’t show how much this stranger is affecting her in so little time.

“What is a smart girl like you doing out on a Wednesday night?”

“It’s my birthday.” Mary says. It wasn’t exactly what she decided to go out, but it’s the truth. She shouldn’t be speaking truths to strangers. No matter how handsome they are. “What about you?”

“Business meeting.” He replies, twirling a strand of blond hair between his fingers. Mary can’t tell when she started craving to run her hands across that perfect dark red hair, but she can say they weren’t moving an inch.

“Travel often?” She asks with hoarse voice. Dammit. She won’t get anywhere good falling for a guy now.

“Not across the sea. This was a special occasion.” The smile he flashes is equal parts stunning and a promise of pain that Mary knows well.

It’s the smile of a predator.  

Something in her starts to scream to get away, but she’s too infatuated now to pay attention to her instincts.

She’s half-drunk. She’s still mad at her parents and Stuart. She still wants a way out of her life. And she’s still pressed against the hard abs of the stranger. A stranger that can become someone she knows.

“I’m Nathan.” He whispered in that deep voice that was weakening Mary more and more.

“Mary.” She manages to say.

That’s the last coherent word that Mary manages to say before getting lost in the warmth of Nathan’s body for the rest of the night.

2 Marry the Butcher

The next year comes in a wave of travels back and forth from England to the US and back.

Mary knows who she’s fallen in love with. She knows that Nathan is a charming man with her, but also the brutal head that holds power all the way from New York to D.C.  

She knows that in the bed, Nathan will tear her apart limb by limb in a succession of precise kisses that will make her unfold completely for him. But she also knows that in the basement, he is capable of tearing apart limb by limb in a succession of precise cuts anyone who crosses the Butcher’s territory.

Mary can’t care less about it.  

It’s true that he is far crueler and more bloodthirsty than anyone in her family. It’s also true that since she met him, Mary stopped seeing her friends. However, it’s also true that her family don’t stuck their noses in her life anymore.

Whatever power holds the Butcher of Baltimore, is keeping even the Hatfords away from Mary and she’s not giving that freedom up.  

So, when Nathan pulls his predator smile on her, and asks if she would marry, Mary says yes without a second thought.

Stuart is pissed. Her parents disown her. Mary doesn’t give a damn.  

Nathan is much more than what she could ever had imagined, and she doesn’t need to hide who she is in front of him. Whatever her family had done, he’d done worse.  

They are made for each other, and so they marry under the September Autum sky.  

Auburn and blond mix like the leaves falling from the trees.  

Blue opal meets silver and Mary thinks she will be safe forever.

Mary is too in love to see that the smile meeting hers for a kiss, is no longer the smile of Nathan, but the Butcher’s.

Leika and Carol cheer on the back anyway. Unaware that they won’t see Mary alive again.

That night, the Butcher tends his knives to his men, and he goes to the most expensive hotel in New York for his honey moon.

Mary believes in their love. She thinks she owns the Butcher. Mary is sure that he is hers as much as she is his.

She is so drunk in love when they arrive to their room in heated kisses, that she gives herself away without hesitation over and over again.  

With every new moan and squirm, her head gets further and further away from her body, and she totally forgets that the Butcher mustn't have any heirs.

If children arrive, Nathan will love them as much as Mary will, because they are a family now, and even if they would be strange and the kids will see and hear and learn a couple of things that no kid should know about in their entire lives, they would be perfect for them.

Those nights, are the best of Mary’s life.

She thinks she finally has it all and she dares to believe that good things will never end.

3 Fear the Butcher

When Mary realizes she has to run, it’s already too late to step back.

The first fifty pregnancy tests were a lie, so she headed on her own to the clinic only to be confirmed that she was expecting a child.

She should’ve gone back to her family. Beg forgiveness of her parents and join Stuart as head of the Hatfords. But she can unsay that she’s pregnant and escape while he's still out.  

So instead, she sees how Nathan ceases to exist and becomes the Butcher right in front of her. In their living room. The same living room where they shared kisses and dances and laughs about their families and the world.

Nathan is so angry at her that his face is contorted in rage.

Mary is waiting for words and shouts, because they had fought before.

She’s certainly not expecting the heavy hand slamming on the side of her head, making her fall to the floor.

“Nathan.” She says, her voice strained with fear. This isn’t the man she married.

“You had only one thing to do. Only one. And you failed you fucking useless whore.”

“Nathan.” She tries again.  

Her pleas turn into a kick in her belly. Mary bends and crosses her arms around her middle, trying to protect the baby if it isn’t too late already.

“One. Fucking. Thing.” Nathan crouches beside Mary. She thinks he’ll come into his senses, but it’s only to grab her from the hair and bring her to her feet. “Go get rid of that before I do.”

“Our baby. No.”

“No?”

“It’s our child. We made it. Nathan, you’re only stressed because you think you aren’t allowed to have kids, but when it’s born, things will be different. We’ll be a family.”

“A family.” Nathan echoes. Mary dares to feel a spark of hope. He had never laid a hand on her before but this will be the last time. Nathan will realize his mistake in the morning.  

They will become a family. They have to. That’s why Mary married.  

Nathan and her are bound to be together.

Nathan pushes Mary way too hard. She stumbles. He leaves.

Mary still believes Nathan will love the baby.

***

Mary comes back alone from the hospital.  

No. Not alone. She’s not alone anymore. Abram is in her arms, sleeping.

Nathan refused to go with her and he never visited, but when he sees that Abram looks just like him, he’ll fall for the baby as much as Mary has.

When Nathan meets the baby, he’ll realize that there was no point for hitting Mary so often along the past months. He’ll see what a beautiful family they’ll be.

Mary slips inside without making noises. She gives just two steps inside when a figure moves close to her.

For a moment, Mary thinks its Nathan, but she’s faced with Lola’s Joker smile.

“Look what we have here. Little bird returned with her nasty pup.” Mary braces Abram’s tiny body closer to her chest and shields him with her arms. “Maybe I can give him his first marks?”

Mary’s blood is boiling inside of her. She wants to erase the smile from Lola’s face with her fists. But once Nathan looks at Abram, he’ll see there’s no point in keeping that woman around for more than business. So, Mary swallows her hatred, leaves to her room and avoids Lola for the next days until Nathan is back home.

He finds Mary feeding Abram. The baby is always hungry and smiling. Nathan will forget his grudges when he meets the baby.

“What’s its name?” He asks from the doorframe. Mary can see it’s the Butcher talking, but she hopes that looking at the baby closer will make him shed the predator skin and become Nathan.

“Abram.”

“My mistakes should carry my name too. Nathaniel.”

“But-Okay.” Mary stops herself before unchaining the Butcher’s rage. She’s walking a thin rope. “Nathaniel Abram.”

“I don’t want to hear that crying.” Nathan says and walks the way he came.

Mary still believes that it’s only a matter of time before Nathan gives Abram a chance. She can wait. Abram can wait as well.  

They have all the time of the world.  

When Abram is asleep, Mary places him gently in the side of the bed, surrounded by a wall of pillows to avoid him from falling, and she sleeps too.

Most nights, Abram will cry in a soft way, as if he had understood Nathan’s orders. And Nathan himself stopped sharing the bed with Mary long, long ago, so it was easy for her to reach for Abram, feed him, change him and put him back to sleep without much noise.

Nathan hadn’t gotten close to Abram, but he hadn’t rejected him either.  

Mary believed they had a chance. If the Butcher wasn’t back.

That particular night, Abram cries louder. Mary changes him, tries to feed him, holds him tight to her chest to calm him, she sings to soothe him, she makes soft noises to distract him, but something is bothering Abram and she doesn’t know what that is.

Mary is tired. She has no help. She knows nothing about children. She’s losing her patience, but it’s her baby and Nathan will hear-

“I told you to keep that thing silent.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong.” Mary’s voice was cracking, close to tears. “He never cries so much. Maybe if you hold him.”

Nathan was no longer in the room. Mary shouldn’t tell him to hold Abram. The Butcher was here. She rocked Abram more to make him stop, but something was wrong and Nathan’s voice had startle him further and further as the Butcher approached them.

“Shut that thing now.”

“It’s not a thing. I can’t just unplug him. Nathan maybe he’s-”

The phrase was left unfinished as shock replaces the desperation when the Butcher grabs Abram from an arm and slams him into the floor.

Abram doesn’t cry anymore.  

“If I have to shut that the fuck again, it will be from a window. Clear?”

Mary wants to slam herself into the Butcher and take out his eyes with her bare hands. But she knows her efforts would only end in her bleeding and Abram.

Abram.

As soon as the Butcher leaves the room, Mary sinks into her knees and picks up gently the small body of her baby. Abram is not making any sound. His arm is hanging limp. There’s a gash bleeding in his head.

Mary knows she needs to get him into a hospital, but the Butcher or his people will be outside, cornering her.

With the things in the room, she cleans the wound and bandages his arm as best as he can using some of his clothes.  

A minute goes by. Then two. Then an hour.  

Mary crumbles into tears beside him and maybe it’s the movement of the bed what makes the baby let out a small sound. Mary finds his chilly blue eyes. The eyes of the Butcher still free from evil, but already filled with pain and fear.

“One of us has to make it out of here alive and it’s going to be you, Abram. I promise.”

Mary’s words are carried away by time and air, but the promise is made and she knows in that moment, that it’s only her and Abram against the world. So, she will make sure her baby lives.

Even if it costs her life.

#you know it did #you can cry now #i'm crying too #like why do i have to write this stuff #but this sort of happened #irl #not kidding #with much less drama ofc #no need to call an ambulance tho #mary hatford #nathan wesninski #the butcher #the foxhole court #all for the game #all for the angst #the raven king #the kings men #aftg #aftg fanfic #aftg fic #aftg textpost #fanfic #fanfic writing #AO3 fanfic #My writing #writers on tumblr #true stories of a writer

[melancholic-pigeon]

WIP Wednesday #15

Since Jason's birthday is tomorrow and all, I'm doing something longer as a treat. A triptych, if you will!

Content warnings for child abuse and neglect, alcoholism and food insecurity.

Thalia wakes up, like she usually does, to Jason curled against her with his fingers in his mouth. She can't easily put him in his crib by herself, but her mattress is on the floor and there's nowhere for him to fall, so she can ensure that she's there to hold him whenever he wakes up crying. Her shirt's a little damp, but this time it's just because he's drooling in his sleep. Last night, thankfully, was free from disruptions.

For him, at least.

He's a year old today, and she hasn't seen their mother since two nights ago, slumped on the couch with an empty bottle of vodka on the ground next to her. The door to her room is closed. Whether she's in there sleeping it off or out somewhere getting drunker, Thalia has no idea.

Bitterly, she doesn't care. It's not like their mom cares about them, either.

Jason yawns, his hair sticking up like a cockatoo's feathers. The first eye contact of the morning always leaves him giggling and reaching for her, and the feeling of his small, warm body flopping onto her brings her focus back to where it should be.

"Happy birthday, shrimp."

"Happy," he repeats, nosing at her stomach.

It's up to her, like usual, so she gets him dressed and ready and gives him the last of the cereal to occupy himself while she digs through her closet to find the old coffee can she stashed there.

Every time she thinks she can get away with it, she lifts a bill from their mother's wallet and puts it in the can. Every nickel she finds on the street, every dime she pulls from the couch cushions; it all adds up, a little at a time.

After carefully saving as much as she could for the past few weeks, she's squirreled away enough. She takes out a fistful and stuffs it in her pocket, then re-buries the can under a pile of her laundry.

Today's special, and she'll cover the loss somehow— by sneaking some extra groceries under her coat again, if she has to.

Jason's finished with his breakfast by the time she emerges, sitting patiently and playing with the plastic dish she'd given it to him on. Her sweet baby brother, looking up at her with a smile so sunny you'd think they were living like kings.

Her chest feels tight and her throat's in no better condition. After a deep breath, she reaches down to grab his hands.

"Do you know what birthdays mean?"

He takes a second to think about it as she pulls him to his feet, then shakes his head.

"Birthdays, Jason," she says, grinning— it's harder to dwell when he's holding onto her hand— "mean birthday cake."

The gas station a block away at least has the miniature kind wrapped in cellophane. He won't know the difference, since he hasn't even been introduced to the concept of cake yet, but she'll still have to make it up to him with a real one someday.

—

By the time Jason turns two, Thalia has shoplifting down to an art form.

People are usually too busy fawning over how precious her brother is to pay her much attention, and having Luke along makes it almost easy. Jason adores him, and he's happy to draw focus away from her by translating the toddler babble and proclaiming that they're his favorite babysitting clients, which conveniently explains the lack of adult supervision.

Thanks to him, she's managed to get Jason something a lot better than cake.

She saw it in the window of a toy shop and immediately knew it was perfect, but it cost more than she'd scrounged in the past six months. She'd been resigned to the idea of stealing a brownie instead, and then last night, Luke showed up at her doorstep with it tucked under his arm and his face split into a wicked grin.

She's not sure she wants to know how he managed to smuggle it out without getting caught, but the way Jason lights up when he lays eyes on it, happier than she's ever seen him, is enough to make her ignore the uneasy feeling.

"Puppy!"

She can't help but mirror it back to him, her heart swelling with emotion as he flings his arms around the stuffed animal's neck. It's almost as big as he is.

"That's right. It's a wolf puppy. She's named after a mama wolf called Lupa."

The real Lupa is the matriarch of a pack living at a conservancy in San Diego county. Her likeness is an embodiment of the fiercely protective love Jason should have gotten from his own mother, and which has fallen to Thalia and her limited capabilities instead.

Jason rolls over, still holding tight to his new doll, and lays his head in her lap. If she's coming up short, he certainly hasn't noticed.

"My Lupa?"

He's gently petting the wolf's fur, in a movement that's strikingly similar to how Thalia's petting his hair. She blinks a few times to chase away the burning in her eyes.

"Your Lupa."

She can't give him the childhood that he deserves. It's a struggle to make sure even his most basic needs are met, and some days it feels like the whole world is united against them, but then he hugs her leg or curls up against her shoulder or tells her in that sweet voice love you, Taya—

And everything settles in her chest, refining itself into a white-hot determination.

She's all he has, and the one thing she can make sure he'll never want for is someone who loves him enough to fight for him.

She understands how the real Lupa must feel about her cubs. She knows, with more certainty than she's ever known anything, that if anyone so much as thinks about hurting her little brother— hurting her baby— she'll tear them to shreds with her teeth before they have time to run.

—

Everything is perfect. Thalia's made sure of it.

The party doesn't start for another hour, so she has to keep Jason occupied until then. He thinks she has lunch reservations and they're meeting at her place for coffee first— the second part is true; she has a pot of Kona ready to go as soon as he arrives.

While she's preparing his decoy surprise, the rest of his friends are in Manhattan, helping Percy and Sally get his bash underway. She finds herself quivering with excitement as she puts the last few touches in place.

The doorbell rings and she squeaks, shoving the main item behind a bookshelf before racing to answer the door.

"Happy birthday, shrimp." She stands up on her tiptoes and hugs him around the neck. "I have something for you."

Jason beams, pink, and squeezes her back.

"I told you last year that you don't have to get me anything. Your company is a gift in and of itself."

"Ha ha," she counters dryly, knowing he can hear her getting a little emotional at the sincerity on his face. "Very funny. Like I'm not going to try to make up for the ten of them that I missed."

She takes hold of his arm and pulls him into the apartment, past the kitchen to the hall that leads to her bedroom. She opens the door beside it, the one that used to be her study.

Jason's eyes go wide.

The desk is still there, but the chair is new, much larger than the one she used. The bookcase is the same, too, but she's put her video games in a box in her bedroom and filled the shelves with fresh sketchbooks and paints and pencils instead. The bed is new too, as well as the nightstand and the dresser.

Sally stripped and varnished all of the wood, and built a set of floating shelves that are currently storing a series of framed photos from Annabeth's camera reel. Piper decided on the paint colors— sky blue with a deep purple accent on the wall that slants to the ceiling. Leo took care of borrowing Jason's favorite sketches to make the framed prints above his bed, by pretending he was doing a photography project with them.

(He'd burst into laughter when she gave him Jason's baby drawings to frame too, and she'd almost punched him in the mouth— but then she'd noticed his voice was a little tight when he told her the crayon scribbles looked just like her.)

"Wow," Jason breathes, staring around the room as though he doesn't know where to land his focus. "This— is all of this for me?"

"Anytime you need an escape, you've got one. Think of it as your safe house. And there's one more thing."

Reluctantly, she steps away and retrieves what she hid earlier.

Jason's mouth drops.

"Lupa," he whispers, raising his hand. He stops himself halfway through reaching over, like he doesn't know if he should. "How did you find another one? I thought they were a limited run."

Thalia takes his hand, wrapping his fingers around the new doll's front leg.

"I traded twenty-seven ultra-rare mint-condition beanie babies for her with a collector in Montana."

"Do I want to know how you got twenty-seven ultra-rare mint-condition beanie babies?"

"It's not as sordid as you're thinking, I just spent a lot of time on Ebay."

Jason laughs, shaky, and sits down on his new mattress. He's probably not even conscious of the way he's running his thumb over Lupa's paw, exactly the way he did the first time.

He said that donating the original to charity was his idea, but Thalia has a suspicion he was pushed into it with a healthy dose of shaming and manipulation, and the look on his face— shocked, bright-eyed, a little scared like he thinks she'll disappear if he blinks— pretty much confirms it.

Thalia sits beside him and wraps an arm around his back. He slides down along the mattress until he's lying with his head in her lap.

"My Lupa," he says quietly, and she knows he remembers doing it before.

"Your Lupa," she chokes back. "For real, this time. Nobody's going to take her away from you, ever again."

It's different now, because Lupa is about the size of a two year old child, and Jason very much no longer is. She fits in the crook of his elbow, and he couldn't wrap his arms and legs around her if he tried.

Thalia tries not to think about all the nights between then and now that he's needed her, and didn't have her.

He smiles, wiser than his fifteen years.

(He's fifteen years old. God. She missed so much— thirteen months isn't long enough to even really begin to catch up.)

"I know they won't," he tells her. "You won't let them."

She's never going to get those years back. The only thing she can do is make sure she appreciates what she has now.

"I believe you would."

"I'll bite anyone who tries," she whispers back, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He bursts into laughter, reaching up to ruffle her hair like she used to do to him.

@perseusjackson-jasongrace @msdrpreist I still feel self-conscious about pinging people tell me if you'd prefer I didn't difjvhg

#thundersibs are go #wip wednesday #let jason grace be cuddly dammit #q #Jason Grace Birthday Spam #i wrote this #stellarverse