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handsomesunshine · a month ago
Second part of the loveinwayhaven gift exchange for @sunfwersealia!
I have already damaged her far more than I can begin to forgive myself for.
Zahra is such an amazing woman, even putting aside the feelings that I desperately try to ignore. On the surface, her demeanor is cold and calculating— but underneath that lies a fiery passion the likes of which I have never known.
I am not a clueless woman. I know the feelings she harbors for me— she makes them abundantly clear, despite my wishing that she wouldn’t— if only to spare me the pain of knowing that I am hurting her despite what we could have.
No. We could not have anything together. I am a monster, and I have done far too much to be considered anything but damaged. Zahra, however, is pure of such sins. She does not harbor the same blood on her hands that I do— she is not the monster I am.
She is strong, passionate, and cunning. She is the Fire to my Ice, and I wish more than anything that I could know what our union would bring. Perhaps in another life, in another world, things could have worked between the two of us.
I know such thoughts are dangerous. I know harboring these feelings for her will only damage her further, and yet I cannot seem to stop myself. It as if I am inexorably drawn to her— she is a star, and I am merely a meteor orbiting her, destined to crash and burn if I get too close.
Perhaps she will see the light in one of the others, or perhaps she will realize that the two of us are star-crossed, and never to be together.
Though my heart aches for her, I know that I mustn’t get too close, for fear of hurting her even further.
I can only hope she forgives me for the pain and hurt I have caused her so far— if nothing else, I still selfishly desire to be in her life.
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lilas · a month ago
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Gloxinia, love at first sight.
Happy love month, @centaurinho! :D I’m your valentine for @loveinwayhaven and I hope you enjoy this illustration of Adam and Dusty! ❤️💕
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pearlsandsteel · a month ago
A (very belated) happy Valentines day @extraordinarymage​​! I was your secret valentine for @loveinwayhaven, your detective is very lovely and I really hope you’ll enjoy your gift!
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thank you @agentmasonjars​ for making this cute moodboard!
Pairings: Mason x nb!detective (Iona Gray)
Warnings: none
Words: 921
Summary: Mason wants to surprise the detective on Valentines day, but not everything goes according to plan... (set in early relationship)
Masons hand ran through the detectives mousy brown hair one more time before letting the short strands fall against their cheek, one covered their eyes and with gentle fingers he brushed it back behind their ear, careful not to wake them.
He had been staring at the sleeping detective for hours, running his hands and gaze over their features. The warmth in his chest forreign to him, a burning heat, almost hurting - in the best way. Like a drug he couldn’t get enough of.
They looked so calm in their sleep, so peaceful and suddenly Mason was reminded of something Felix had said to him, he was hit by the desire to put a smile on Ionas face when they would wake up. As quietly as possible to not disturb them he climbed out of bed.
Iona was awoken by a series of cursing and clattering coming from the kitchen. In their sleepy state the detective considered just laying back down and pulling the pillow over their head for a moment, but then they smelled it - the unmistakable scent of burnt food.
As fast as they could they stumbled out of the bed, almost falling over their own feet and rushed into the kitchen, grabbing the fire extinguisher on the way. They found Mason cursing at a waffle maker, burnt dough leaking from it.
“What is going on here?”
With a flinch he spinned around to them, the fork in his hand falling to the ground with a clattering sound. As he saw them standing in the doorway his shoulders sagged in defeat. “Shit.”
Confused Iona looked back at the waffle maker, they had never seen him eat, let alone cook. “Why are you making waffles?”
“I-” He stopped to let out a frustrated sigh and run his hands over his face. “I wanted to make something for you - you know because it’s…”
He made a grimace as if saying the word would make bile rise in his throat, but Iona understood him anyway. Their eyes widened, the fire extinguisher almost slipping from their hands in surprise. “You wanted to make me breakfast for Valentines day?”
“Yeah…’wanted’ being the keyword here.” He grumbled, looking almost a bit embarrassed of his poor cooking skills. “Felix kept talking about how important it would be for me to do something since it’s our first Valentines as a couple and all…”
The words brought a blush to their face and their heart made a little bounce in their chest. It was a sweet and thoughtful gesture, something not very common for Mason. It was a softer side of him, a side he only showed to them and it put a wide smile on their face. “Mason...that is so sw-”
Before they could finish their sentence Iona was interrupted by an agitated beeping, making them freeze in realization. Their gaze snapped back to the waffle maker and the by now black dough.
They leaped for its cable, unplugging it before hurring to open up the windows, repressing a cough as white smoke filled their tiny kitchen.
After the kitchen had been cleared of any smoke Mason and Iona made to clean up the mess his poor attempt at baking had caused. Soon a comfortable quiet had settled between them until Mason cleared his throat, drawing their attention from the in burnt food caked waffle maker in their hands to him.
“I’m sorry...for uh, messing up your kitchen.”
Iona couldn’t help a small smile from spreading on their lips, he seemed so different from his usual self, unsure, almost nervous. “Don't worry, it’s fine Mason, really.”
“I just - I wanted to do this right.” He dragged his hands through his hair before finally meeting their eyes. “I’m not very good at this - I’m not….sure how this works.” He gestured vaguely between the two of them.
After a moment of silence they took a few steps towards him, resting their hand on his on the kitchen counter. “I’m not sure either.” They admitted. “Guess we’ll have to figure it out together.”
Mason nodded, turning his hand upwards to take theirs in his.
“How about we start by making those pancakes together?” Their gaze went back to the half cleaned waffle maker resting in the sink. “...or maybe you just watch?”
He snorted. “Deal.”
When the waffle maker was cleaned the detective started making a new dough. The whole time Mason was quietly watching them or occasionally fishing ingredients from high shelves for them. Soon the plate on the counter was filled with a stack of freshly baked waffles, refined by berries and caramel sauce.
With a bright smile they turned back to Mason, offering him a bite. The morning sun shining through the window turned the dark brown of their eyes into honey, similar to the melted caramel on the waffles, for a moment distracting him from the food.
He stared at the fork, for a second contemplating to try a bite for them, but deciding against it. The detective only gave a small shrug in response. “More for me then.”
Mason watched them eat, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth when the detective gave a content sigh as they took the final bite.
“This is...nice.” He noted, a little surprised by it, baking was never something he thought to enjoy. “We should do that more often.”
Iona smiled back at him. “Yeah....just next time maybe do not almost set my kitchen on fire.”
He chuckled. “No promises, handsome.”
Tag list: @agentnatesewell, @agentnolastname, @agentmasonjars, @amlovelies, @ataraxion, @ayhavenway, @callmeroo, @cindersnaps, @donutcare0115, @gloynporslen, @ihavethemindofamaster, @mepheesto, @oxjenayxo, @southernvampire, @spoopity-boopity, @temptress-of-death-and-desire, @vienocalledmebuddy
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graysinblack · a month ago
AN : Hi, @solus-reaper !!!! I was assigned as your secret valentines for @loveinwayhaven 💜💜💜 I’m so sorry for the delay, but I really hope you enjoy this fic I wrote of your lovely detective and Mason! You said in your description that Gale is fond of the wolf plush from the carnival, and that she likes to read with it, and I really got inspired by that and wrote a scene somehwere between new official relationship and deep relationship!
Series/Pairing: The Wayhaven Chronicles  – Agent Mason X F!Detective (Gale Langford)
Rating/Warnings: General / None
Word Count: 1111 words (woah!)
Summary: Mason discovers a familar plush from the past.
Gale sits on the couch in her living room, head lying against the armrest, her feat curled up underneath her knees. Her breath flows slowly out from her lungs, caressing the pages of the thick book she held in her hands, eyes darting across the baskerville fonted words, seeping in each syllable as her fingers traced underneath them.
A melody plays in the backdrop- a birdsong, as clement and serene as a lullaby, though it was too early in the day for Gale to allow herself to drift away into the white cushions she laid upon. There were still traces of morning present outside of her residence; splotches of sunlight still draped upon the apartment, growing brighter with each moment that passed within her devour, signaling the coming of noon.
A delicate sneeze falls from her lips, causing a strand of her chocolate brown hair to fall against her pale cheek. She huffs a little as she straightens her neck, tucking the piece behind her ear and fixing the pillow underneath her. Well, not a pillow. Her head rests upon the curved back of a stuffed animal. More specifically, a four legged wolf figurine that had been won by a certain vampire a few earth cycles ago.
Ornately useless, she would say; A poorly factored childrens toy purely meant for collecting dust and taking up matter- not intended for sentimental value.She wouldn't have thought for it to mean so much to her; the simple fact that she had even kept it shocked her. Gale assumed maybe the attachment was there because it reminded her of him- someone found so daunting in the eyes of the world, yet so comforting in her own arms.
She let out a content sigh, adjusting her body once more against the sofa and sinking deeper into the monochrome cushions, a sense of fulfillment warming her up on the inside as she focused herself back to the content she was formerly centered on.
Not much later, her ears grasp onto the jingling sound that came from the door knob- which was quickly interrupted by a strided curse, followed by a groan.
She pushes herself up to her feet immediately, knowing quite well who was behind the barrier, and not wanting him to break yet another door handle. She left the paperback to lay upon the leather surface she was stationed on, beside the stuffed wolf. Tugging her grey cardigan closer to her figure, she proceeds up to the hatch, catching more grumbled swears coming from the struggling vampire as he continues to try getting into the apartment.
“Good morning.” She chimes at his hunched figure.
“Your stupid lock wouldn’t open.” He grouses, trudging into the apartment with squinted eyes. He boots clack against the tile flooring as he saunters towards the little vanity right beside the entrance, placing his metallic key set onto its surface before wandering further into the apartment.
“It’s not my lock,” A chuckle exhausts from her throat as she begins to walk towards him. “It’s just your inability to open a door.” She quips before tip-toeing and pressing an alight, petal like kiss onto the corner of his lips. The action earns another grumble from him, but it’s light hearted, so she ignores it whilst she swiftly makes her way to her windows and swipes the blackout curtains over them.
Mason ambles towards the settee, and as he’s about to flop onto its surface, his grey eyes catch upon shiny buttoned eyes of a familiar looking figure and he pauses, bewilderment lacing his gaze as he takes the sight in.
And then he lets out a rattling scoff, plucking up the thing with his right hand, “I can’t believe you kept this thing.” He muses, flipping it around in his hands and examining its features.
The airy sound makes Gale turn around from the lamppost, confused for a moment on what on earth he’d be talking about, only to realize he was talking about the ancient carnival souvenir.
Her cheeks instantly become kissed in pink flurries of flush- the reaction to her self consciousness completely and utterly exposing her embarrassment. She fumbles over her words, not exactly sure how to explain why she had kept it. She wasn’t even sure why she had kept it in the first place.
Before any filters could run through them, the first coherent words that popped into her head fell right through her lips into a hushed murmur.
“It reminds me of you.” She says, softly. So soft, so quiet that if it were anyone else it wouldn’t have been heard- but that was the special thing about the vampire.
He hears. He listens. He understands.
And when the words hit his ears, they’re surprisingly touching.
His lips move to say something- to tease, to joke
They start to form a word, “That’s-“ he begins, but the rest of the syllables don’t come out; hitching at the end of his throat. He purses his lips, once, twice. And fumbles with his own words, his own thoughts for a minute, and then he takes a stride towards where she’d stationed herself and wraps his arms over her waist, letting the toy fall onto the carpet below them.
Their embrace is reigned over with a quiet, no words spoken or shared in anyway- just a silent, silent understanding that lingers between them. A few moments pass, and he presses his lips over her hair, the gesture speaking louder than anything he fouled said to have shown his appreciation. Or love. Or whatever it was he felt from those words. He pulls away just enough to look her in the eye, his own pupils blown in affection, a lazy smirk washed over his face.
“Why keep a plush when you could have the real thing, sweetheart?”
He feels her smile against his chest, and he dips his face into the crook of her shoulder, trailing peppered kisses up her neck and to her jaw.
She squeaks, squirming and lightly smacking his chest with the heel of her hand with a flustered face.
“I think I’ll just-“ she walks away, reaching down to pick up the stuffed animal, “Stick with this.” She finishes, bringing it back to the sofa to the spot she was previously sitting on, lying down across its length and placing the plush back underneath her neck, resuming the book where she left off.
An aspirated chuckle comes from him as he follows her, placing the plushie away as he slides into its place at the edge of the seat, allowing Gale to return to her reading with much more comfort.
Taglist - @agentnolastname @elmshore @openheartthot @utterlyinevitable @freckles-spangledvampire @homeformyheart @withbeautyandrage @loveinwayhaven @solus-reaper @missmiimiie @justanotherrookie
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obsessivedino · a month ago
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Hi @handsomesunshine!
I come bearing your gift for the @loveinwayhaven exchange! Thank you for waiting this long, but I hope it’s worth the wait. Hope you like it 💖
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loveinwayhaven · a month ago
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Hey there @vienocalledmebuddy! I am posting your Secret Valentine present in @quietsphere’s place! A note from the sweet kaw below.
"hi there, I would give you all the hearts @vienocalledmebuddy but Farah stole them. happy valentines day!"
All the pinks and reds and purples in this picture is SUCH an ✨ iconic ✨ Valentine’s day mood. And they both look so sweet and lovely! How romanctic~
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loveinwayhaven · a month ago
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Hi there @detectivewithdablood ! Your Secret Valentine has requested to remain anonymous, but they commissioned @somewillwin to draw Adam and Ayla/AJ. They hope you enjoy your gift! 💝
And what a gorgeous piece it is! The mood, the lighting and (cries) the cuddling! 😭 AJ has such a cute smile and Adam looks so at peace!
Happy belated Valentine’s day! 💕
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amlovelies · a month ago
Here at long last is my @loveinwayhaven gift for @brightningstar I hope you enjoy it!
             It no longer struck Elizabeth as strange. At first, there was a certain discomfort to evenings like this. It had felt like a lapse in manners, her plate piled high while his placemat remained empty, only a glass of wine and her companionship to sustain him.
               It had been a long day, the promise of this dinner the only thing getting her through the last few hours of her shift. When the mayor had darkened her doorstep with only a half hour left, she had wanted to scream. Every minute in his company felt like hours, but that didn’t matter now.
               Her apartment looks different in the candlelight. Softer, dreamy, as if they are in a world removed. In a way they are, these evening that they have carved out for themselves. A few hours in which the troubles of Wayhaven and the Agency can’t touch them.
               The flickering light dances over the angular planes of Adam’s face, down the bridge of his nose, and she finds herself entranced by the stain the wine has left on his lips.
               “Is something wrong, detective? You seem a bit distracted?” He asks humor evident in his voice.
               “Not at all, commanding agent.” She says with a smile. She is happy to pay him back for calling her detective. There was time when it would have driven her crazy, back when every moment between them was followed by his pulling away, but not anymore. 
               “I was just wondering about the wine,” she reaches out to gently grasp the delicate stem of her glass. The liquid inside looks almost black, but as she lifts it the candlelight transforms it into a jeweled red, garnet perhaps.
               “Developed a sudden interest in oenology?” he asks with an arched brow clearly not falling for her attempt to cover her staring.
               “Maybe, thought it seems like an expensive hobby. How much did this one set you back?” she asks as she gestures to bottle.
               “This particular bottle?” he asks picking up the bottle to examine the label, “I cannot recall, but probably around $70.”
               “Why would you waste that much money? It tastes the same as a $5 bottle?” she takes a sip to test. It isn’t exactly the same as the cheap bottles she usually buys a little smoother perhaps, but not different enough to warrant the $65 extra.
               “It does not.”
               “We don’t all have super senses like you Adam,” she softly chides.
               “Even a human—” his lip raises slightly in a sneer, but it’s softer than it would have been a few months ago “—can develop their palette. I can give you some instructions if you’d like.”
               She nods, and is rewarded with a wide smile. One that is wide enough for the dimples to appear in his cheeks.
               It’s the type of smile she saves in a safe corner of her heart. It’s a tally she keeps of moments of happiness. Moments she never wants to lose.
               “Once you know what to look for, a wine can tell you many things. It can tell you where it is from and how it was made,” he says as he rises from his chair and makes his way into her kitchen.
               “Not unlike people I guess,” she says as she watches his movements with curiosity. “It’s not a perfect science, but you’ll be surprised what people will tell you without telling you.”
               He finds what he’s looking for and rejoins her at the table.
               “Do you have a sudden need for caffeine?” she asks as she gestures to the coffee can that looks dwarfed in his large hands.
               “It’s to cleanse your palette,” he replies as he opens it and offers it to her. “Most of what you think is taste is actually smell. It can be a powerful tool.”
               The familiar scent is overwhelming and feels out of place in the moment. It conjures up thoughts of morning routines and long shifts at the police station.
               “Now what?”
               “Now close your eyes.”
               She obeys feeling strangely vulnerable as she hears him round the table and come to stand behind her.
               She can feel his breath ghosting over her neck as he leans down to almost whisper into her ear, “now I want you to take a deep breath, inhale, and see if you can differentiate any particular scents.”
               It feels a little silly, but she trusts him.
               At first it just smells like wine, like alcohol and the memory or grapes, but then she inhales deeper.
               Raspberry, a hint like the memory of summer time indulgence. Tobacco, warm and earthy.
               A small sound of surprise and delight escapes her.
               “Now, drink.” His words cause a shiver to run down her spine as she feels the cool edge of the glass against her bottom lip.
               The raspberry is even more intense now; how had she not noticed it before?
               Adam removes the glass and she hears a gentle clink as it is replaced on the table. Then his hand is on her chin, brushing along the bottom edge of her lip, “open your eyes, Elizabeth.”
               Green eyes meet her hazel, and she feels lost in them. When he kisses her, she can taste the wine still on his lips. Raspberries will never taste the same again.
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queerdetectiveblue · a month ago
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Happy belated valentine’s day @pvnkvampr​ here is my gift for the @loveinwayhaven​​ event!💖🥰
I wrote a little something for your Theo and Adam, I hope you like it!!
Pairing: Adam x m!detective (Theodore Cullen)
Read on ao3
Being right was something that Theo greatly enjoyed, especially when his knowledge was put to good use, but seeing Adam admitting his defeat was truly a wonderful thing to experience.
With a smug smile on his face, Theo leaned against the wall, arms crossed against his chest and long hair dropped over one shoulder, he was ready to collect his prize even if Adam looked like he would prefer to be eaten by sharks than paying his end of the deal.
“Come on Adam, you promise,” the vampire rolled his eyes letting an exasperated sight, “and I want my ice-cream.”
After a moment of silence, in which Theo was sure he saw smoke coming out of the other man’s ears, Adam looked at him once more, “You’re right, detective, I shall keep my promise.”
“Great! Let’s go, then!” And with a resigned sight from Adam and a bright smile from him, they both began their journey to the ice-cream store, the best in Wayhaven in Theo’s expert opinion.  
The store was pink, so pink that both of them stood out quite impressive, Theo with his black shirt, ripped jeans and dark makeup that made his skin looked even more pale than usual and Adam, with his board frame, gray shirt and combat boots.  
Theo decided to go with chocolate and strawberry flavors while Adam, unsurprisingly, opt not to buy anything for him. The round table they choose was small and extremely clean, Theo could almost look at himself in the reflection of the material. The taste of ice-cream was divine and he let Adam knows it, the vampire only nodded once, his eyes scanning the place like he was ready to fight in any moment. Adam really needed to learn how to relax.
After a few minutes of silence between them, with him enjoying his prize while listening to the happy chatting of other people, Adam frown looking at him, Theo didn’t know why he studently was the object of his brooding but he winked at the vampire anyway, showing the best smug smile he could manage given his mouth full of ice-cream.
Adam, apparently resisting the urge to roll his eyes, sighed, “You have ice-cream on your face.” his tone stern like he was reprimanding a child for being messy.
Theo blinked in confusion a few times before an idea occurred to him. His smile turned a little mischievous and he leaned on his elbows on the table between them, his blue eyes inspecting his handsome face for a moment or two.
“Why don’t you help me clean up?” He moved his brows up and down a few times to emphasize his words causing Adam to stop his restrain, rolling his eyes and huffing through his nose. The man really put everything in himself to give the best annoyed looks.
“You are an adult with two perfectly functional hands, use them.” Theo almost wanted to argue that one of his hands was, in fact holding the ice-cream cone, ergo not available, but the stern look on his face wasn’t leaving to much room for discussing.
Theo mimicked the roll of his eyes, “Fine, can you please tell me where is the ice-cream?”
“It’s in your nose.”
He nodded, giving the ice-cream one last lick before it ended up all over his fingers, with his free hand he found his nose, his now pink nose and Theo must look quite ridiculous with strawberry ice cream on his face, although he couldn’t find in him to complain not when Adam looks so goddammed adorable all mad at him. Oh, and he looked even more lovely with his cheeks dusted in pink thanks to Theo licking his fingers clean while maintaining eye contact, a contact that didn’t last long, unfortunately the vampire averted his eyes like he was electrocuted, his frown still in place and even more profound now.
Theo laughed softly giving the poor man a break returning to his treat. The bright light at the shop made everything look happier and he had to admit, the decorations were really charming.
“You- you still have-” Theo looked up and before he can even process what was happening, he had Adam going forward, napkin in hand and a determined set of green eyes fixing on his face. With the care of someone polishing a glass figurine, the vampire caressed his nose with the cloth and for a moment Theo stood absolutely frozen, afraid of making any movement lest Adam broke their point of contact.
“There.” Adam’s voice was soft and maybe a little breathless, or a least that was how Theo felt after the man retreat his hand, he blinked a couple of time begging his brain not to shut down now, he couldn’t keep staring like a gaping idiot at the team leader.
“Um t-thanks.” His whole face was burning making a perfect match with the theme of the store.
“No problem, Theo- Detective.” Clearing his throat Adam averted his eyes and it appeared the color of his cheeks wasn’t leaving any time soon.
Theo, biting his lower lip, moved his eyes as well finding his reflection on a mirror. He had no idea how he didn’t notice that giant thing before (the grumpy and atractive man in front of him may have something to do with it) but there they were, both sitting in a tiny table, in a pink ice-cream store looking like…
“We look cute together.” Those words left his mouth almost by themselves and in an instant Adam found his eyes in the mirror, he blinked and after a moment, a nearly imperceptible smile formed on his lips.
“Just finish your ice-cream, Detective, we should get back to the warehouse soon.”
Shaking his head, Adam returned his attention to his hands but the smile was unmistakable now and Theo felt warm blossom on his chest.
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silverletters · a month ago
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Hey, @thewayhavencar 👀👀👀.Got Ana for  @loveinwayhaven and had a blast drawing both her and the brick man over there! Hope i gave your detective justice she deserves x) Happy late Valentine’s(it’s never really late to show love tho, unless you are commanding agent du Mortain,then hurry the hell up)
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sunfwersealia · a month ago
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here's my gift for @smalltowndetective for the @loveinwayhaven exchange! this was a delight to make and your detective is absolutely adorable, I hope u like it! happy (very late lol) Valentine's Day Belle 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
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kannotdeal · a month ago
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a belated valentines for @night-triumphantt as part of the @loveinwayhaven valentine exchange <33
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narrativefoiltrope · 2 months ago
early in the morning i hear on your piano
pairing: morgan x f!detective (charlotte kingston)
rating: teen for swearing, some suggestion (it’s morgan y’all)
words: ~1.5k
summary: an early morning featuring contemplative (deepromance!)morgan, charlotte playing the warehouse piano, and a duet that surprises them both.
note: happy (belated) valentine’s day, @queerdetectiveblue; i’m your secret valentine for @loveinwayhaven’s event this month! i really enjoyed getting to know your charlotte, and i hope i did her and morgan’s relationship justice here <3 (a side note: the title comes from robert louis stevenson’s poem, “early”)
[read on ao3]
Morgan woke up early. 
Her body awakened before her brain, eyes opening without yet seeing and falling on the form next to her. It took her a second to process the fact that she wasn’t alone. 
It wasn’t the first time, or even months-worth of first-times, that Charlotte had stayed over in Morgan’s room at the warehouse, but each time Morgan woke up before her—watched the slow, even rise and fall of her chest, heard the gentle snores she occasionally emitted (even sleeping, Charlotte was musical; a trait Morgan would’ve found annoying in anyone else—and maybe sometimes in Charlotte too)—she was struck by a sense of—
—well, admittedly, surprise at first. Not like she was used to sharing her space with somebody else, and it was even more shocking that she actually liked doing so. But the initial shock, lasting for shorter and shorter periods the more and more time they spent together, was always quickly overwritten with an intense and pervasive sense of calm.
Morgan felt a smile tug on the corner of her lips as she watched Charlotte mumble something in her sleep. Taking in the sight of her dark hair splayed across the pillow, a warmth bloomed in Morgan’s chest. She was the most goddamn striking woman Morgan had ever seen: Tawny skin a bronze in the dark of the early morning, long limbs draped over the bed and tangled with Morgan’s own. An errant curl flopped into Charlotte’s face, making her nose twitch, and Morgan gently swept it away—something she wouldn’t have done months ago, but something she did automatically now.  
Morgan eased out of bed, careful not to disturb her girlfriend in the process. She grabbed a sweater laying on the back of a chair—slightly too big for her, one of Charlotte’s; Morgan grumbled at the reminder of Charlotte’s height advantage—and headed to the roof. 
It wasn’t light out yet which suited her just fine. It was quieter like this, less overwhelming. 
...Didn’t bother her as much to be away from Charlotte. 
She had long recognised that the other woman made life easier, softer, even as Charlotte matched her sarcasm, challenged Morgan as much as Morgan challenged her, met (and sometimes surpassed) Morgan’s own innuendos. Morgan loved that about Charlotte, the contradictions she offered.
And yeah, she loved her. 
It wasn’t like Morgan thought about it all that much. It was a fact. 
But sometimes when she was feeling particularly contemplative—like now, apparently—she would think of how they got here. Neither wanted a relationship. Both of them were adamant about wanting to keep things casual. Physical. No strings attached. 
And now, well. Morgan was in Charlotte’s sweater, breathing in her scent that lingered on the expensive material. 
(Whatever. She looked as good in her girlfriend’s clothes as she did in anything else.)
As the sun started to break over the horizon, turning the sky lavender and making the rooftop that much more uncomfortable for Morgan, she caught wind of a few whispered notes on a piano. 
Charlotte was awake.
Morgan stretched and ran a hand through her hair before heading back inside, winding her way through the warehouse to the living room. 
The closer she got to the sound, now clearly underscored with the bassline of Charlotte’s heart, the calmer she felt. A salve for the early morning turbulence she could never escape—the time when the world became just that much more goddamn annoying.
When she reached the living room, the door was ajar. Morgan pushed it open far enough to make the hinge creak, letting Charlotte know she was there, and waited for the tell-tale nod of her girlfriend’s head that signalled “come in.” 
...Charlotte was evidently lost in her music. She didn’t appear to immediately register Morgan’s presence. 
But Morgan wasn’t going to complain about getting to drink in the sight of Charlotte. She rested her hip against the door and waited, watched.
She watched the elegant bend of the other woman’s neck over the piano, long dark curls piled on top of her head exposing the nape. Her head bowed and nodded ever so slightly in time with the blues song she plucked away at. 
The music came to a crescendo under Charlotte’s practiced fingers. Morgan couldn’t be sure, but from the position of her girlfriend—her total abandon, the sway of her body, the dreaminess of her keystrokes—she guessed that Charlotte’s eyes were closed. 
Charlotte was never more goddamn beautiful than she was when she lost herself in a song.
And Morgan was lost too.
Overcome with an intense sense of peace despite the almost mournful timbre of the song. The notes of the piano and the beat of Charlotte’s heart enveloped her, landed on her skin like a caress. 
She was starting to catch on to the fact that if Charlotte’s presence offered her peace—dulled her senses, made blunt the sharp edges of her reality—Charlotte’s music offered her sanctuary. 
And then Morgan’s hands twitched. Her fingers moved on their own accord as if skating over invisible keys. 
Compelled forward by some unknown urge, ancient and hazy, Morgan strided over to the piano. 
Charlotte stilled her hands and opened her eyes as Morgan approached, a lazy smile gracing her lips. “Took you long enough. I thought you were going to stand in the door all day, solecito.”  
Morgan shrugged. “Didn’t want to disturb you, sweetheart,” she said as she slid onto the piano bench next to Charlotte. She dragged her eyes over the other woman slowly before meeting Charlotte’s gaze. “Besides, I was enjoying the view.” 
Charlotte offered her a catlike grin, taking in the sight of Morgan in turn. “But you denied me the pleasure of this view.” Her eyes lingered on the sweater—her sweater—covering Morgan’s sleepwear. “It looks good on you.”
“It would look better on the floor.”
The other woman threw her head back and laughed before bending over to capture Morgan’s lips in a slow, warm kiss, languorous like the morning itself.
“I agree,” Charlotte replied when she broke away. “But my hands are itching to play right now.” She nodded her head towards the piano, but raised a brow—a challenge to see if Morgan would take the innuendo bait.
Morgan didn’t. Instead, a small frown appeared on her brow. 
After a beat, Charlotte asked, “Everything okay?”
She nodded, unsure how to explain the compulsion she felt to play, to feel the keys under her hands, fingers dancing scales. So she did what was more comfortable, more natural, instead: She moved. 
Morgan caught Charlotte’s left hand, pressed a kiss to the pulse point on her wrist. Then placed it firmly back on the piano and rested her own hand next to it. 
The keys were warm to the touch, still bearing the heat of Charlotte’s hands. 
...This—the keys, her sitting on a piano bench, hand perched—felt familiar. As if some part of her recognised the instrument, even without the mark of her girlfriend.  
“Wanna accompany me?” Charlotte prompted. “Just tap this key here”—she indicated—“on the second and fourth beats I play.” 
After a short demonstration, Morgan nodded. 
They began: A slow jazz song. Charlotte kept time with her foot and smiled encouragingly at Morgan’s one-key accompaniment. 
The longer Charlotte played, the more familiar the song became. Where the hell she would’ve heard it, Morgan didn’t know; it wasn’t as if she listened to jazz (or music that wasn’t played by Charlotte herself—and this was not a song she remembered hearing from the other woman). 
Morgan’s hand once again seemed to move of its own accord. She added in a few other notes, earning her a shocked but pleased, “Alright, solecito, I see you!” from Charlotte along with a brilliant grin. 
Charlotte’s enthusiasm spilled over, her hands the conduit, adding in some improvised flourishes. Morgan matched her and added her own spin on the song (where the hell had she heard this before?). 
Eventually both women lost themselves to the music: Fingers expertly (on both their parts) navigating the piano, echoing and building off of each other’s improvisations, bodies leaning in towards each other but bent over the instrument. 
Morgan didn’t know how to play the piano, yet here she was, playing the piano. (What the—?)
It could’ve lasted for minutes or hours—Morgan wasn’t sure. She was far too absorbed in the feeling of her fingers on the keys, the notes they emitted, and Charlotte next to her, softening the morning while bringing this new (was it really new?) sensation into sharper relief. 
When they finally reached the natural conclusion of the song, they sat in silence, hesitant to break the moment. 
Charlotte spoke first. “I didn’t know you could play the piano.”
“I didn’t either.” 
That response earned Morgan a bright laugh and a kiss on the cheek. Charlotte nestled into her neck and Morgan wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close. 
“You’re a natural! Guess I’ll have to look up some duets then,” Charlotte said.  
“Guess so, sweetheart.”
It didn’t matter if this—the piano, her knowledge of it, the nagging familiarity of the song—confused, even (maybe) unsettled, Morgan; the only thing that mattered, the only tangible thing, was the smile on Charlotte’s face as she agreed to keep playing.
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mewsly · 2 months ago
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Happy Valentine’s Day @slytherincursebreaker ! ❤ I got you for @loveinwayhaven 
Mrycella is so pretty and was incredibly fun to draw! I’ve never draw ice skating before so I hope it looks alright!
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homeformyheart · 2 months ago
traditions - nate sewell x m!detective (twc)
day 14 - valentines
author’s note: this is my gift for @sasuketomatothief as part of the @loveinwayhaven event, i hope you enjoy!
copyright: all characters, except the detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. detective seth kingson is @sasuketomatothief’s. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – nate sewell x m!detective (seth kingston) rating/warnings: none; fluff word count: ~1k based on/prompt: day 14 – valentines from #28dateswithunitbravo challenge by @wayhavenmonthly for the @loveinwayhaven event summary: nate has lots of valentine’s day surprises in store for seth.
nate rubbed his hands together and blew on them to try to warm them up before shoving them back into the pockets of his coat. he bounced on the toes of his feet, feeling more excited than he had in a very long time, longer than he cared to admit. he looked up at the sun setting over the trees in the square just beyond the station, pink and orange streaks interspersed by low-hanging clouds.
seth’s shift would be over soon and after weeks of planning, nate would finally get to take his boyfriend out on a proper, romantic date. and not just any date. a proper valentine’s date. nate couldn’t remember the last time he was with someone with whom valentine’s day could mean more than just a commercialized holiday.
he remembered when valentine’s first started to become a way for members of all social classes to exchange tokens of affection in line with societal norms at the time. compared to the era he was born into, he may have gone a bit overboard with his gifts and plans but if anyone deserved to be lavished, it was seth.
“oh, hello there. can’t get enough of me, i see,” seth teased, stepping out of the station with arms full of the things nate had gotten him.
a giant teddy bear that covered seth’s face, a gift basket of assorted chocolates and snacks, a handcrafted card, wrapped gift box, and a small banner that he painted the words “be my valentine?” in bright red letters all jockeyed precariously for support across his chest.
“sorry, i went overboard, didn’t i?” nate asked sheepishly, grabbing the giant stuffed plushie and gift basket from seth so he could at least see where he was walking.
seth laughed, tossing his head to move loose hair out of his eyes and nate couldn’t help but watch how the filtered rays of the sun cast a soft glow on his hair. and he certainly didn’t mind how seth’s laugh sent a pleasant bubbly tingle floating through his veins.
“i don’t mind, nate. of course, tina and verda had a field day teasing me about it, but i don’t remember the last time i was with someone that made celebrating valentine’s actually mean something,” he said with a wink as they fell into a comfortable pace towards his apartment.
“good, i’m glad to hear it. i wanted our first valentine’s together to be memorable and i’ve always been so curious about modern valentine’s traditions,” nate said cheerfully, shifting the basket and bear to one side so he could reach for seth’s hand.
“i’m just happy that we get to spend time together. i don’t think we need a holiday to ‘celebrate,’ if you know what i mean,” seth said, giving nate’s hand a squeeze.
“thank you for indulging me then. you are very special to me and i’ve never celebrated the holiday before,” nate said as they opened the door to his apartment.
a delicious smell wafted from seth’s kitchen and he poked his head in the door before swiveling around to nate, mouth agape in surprise.
“what is all this?”
nate chuckled as he set down the gifts in the living room before joining seth in the kitchen. “i thought i’d make dinner for you,” he gave seth his trademark knee-weakening smile as he walked past him into the kitchen. “the roast should be just about done. why don’t you relax and get settled in?”
“what did i do to deserve you?” seth murmured, holding nate’s face in his hands and giving him a soft kiss.
“i’m the one who wonders that every day,” nate said, eyes shining with honesty before he moved to finish preparing the meal.
no matter what nate said, seth couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky that someone who had lived as long as nate had would find him of all people, interesting and attractive enough to want something more. he also couldn’t remember the last time someone made him a home-cooked meal, and for someone that didn’t need to eat human food to survive, nate definitely knew his way around the kitchen.
the roast and vegetables were perfectly seasoned and tender, perfectly complementing the vintage red wine nate must’ve brought over from his personal collection at the warehouse. the conversation between them flowed effortlessly, as though they had been together for ages, without the constant threat of danger. and to be honest, seth loved it.
“i have one more surprise for you,” nate said softly. “if you’ll indulge me one more time, please.”
seth looked at him with one eyebrow raised but nodded, following nate out the window in his bedroom and up to the roof. they were definitely not supposed to be up here, and he wondered when and what nate had set up.
a corner of the rooftop had been sectioned off by at least fifty candles around a thick blanket. the flickering flames from the lit candles swayed with the soft winter breeze, illuminating the bottle of champagne and fruit platter that had been set out.
“wow,” seth breathed, stunned. “when did you do all this?”
he turned to nate to find him rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “i may have asked felix for help setting this up while we had dinner. i know it’s a little cold out, but i thought we could enjoy a little stargazing together.”
“it’s perfect, thank you,” he said softly as they made themselves comfortable on the blanket.
seth poured them both a glass of champagne before raising his in a toast.
“to many more nights like this, whether it’s valentine’s day or not,” seth said, smiling.
nate gently clinked his glass against seth’s. “to celebrating many more traditions and creating new ones of our own.”
he set his glass down and leaned into seth’s shoulder, curling his body against him and letting the warmth permeate his body as they looked up at the stars in the sky.
* * * * * permatag: @pearlsandsteel; @kelseaaa; @freckles-spangledvampire; @kat-tia801; @agentnolastname; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @ohnobbwhatisyoudoing;  @withbeautyandrage; @wayhavenots; @ambrosykim; @brooks-eden; @otherworldlypresents; @gloynporslen​; @vintage-vamp; nate x detective: @missameliep; 
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vienocalledmebuddy · 2 months ago
Pairing: Adam + Edith Blake (F Detective)
Word Count: 759
Warning(s): Strong language towards the end
Summary: Edith carries groceries and Adam helps.
Notes! 💕 HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY💕 @bobbymckenzie!! This is your Valentine’s Gift for @loveinwayhaven’s event! I really liked getting to know Edith better! I imagine this happening in the very early deep-relationship stage; I racked my brain for domestic fluff, and this was the result! I hope you like it 😭💕
Parking in the inner gates of the Warehouse is a welcomed relief from the lumpy road which brought me here. The hatchback, seeming to agree with me, gives a long weary sigh once the key is pulled from the ignition.
As if on cue, Adam emerges from the Warehouse, aviators shielding his eyes from the midday sun until he’s beside the hatchback and removes them. He gives a quick greeting, followed by a small nod, before he sees the groceries in the back seat.
By the time I’ve stepped out of the car, Adam has already attained the bags, holding five in each hand. I gesture to them, palms ready for their weight. “Give them here.”
One blond brow arches in question. “I can carry these for you, it’s quite a few bags, additionally, I’m already holding them.”
I scoff. “Additionally, I didn’t ask you for help. So, give them to me.”
There’s a pause. Both of us hold our ground, my eyes narrowed, but there is something that flickers across Adam’s face, something soft, admiring—no—something which endears, then, as quick as the standoff had begun, it ends, as Adam holds out his arms offering the bags.
It is a shock that he graciously seceded from the challenge, and my eyes narrow further in inspection, suspicious of his lack of stubbornness—"I hope you will have no issue carrying them all,” he quips, a smirk lining his words. A growl, low, peeved, and ready to fight reverberates out of me, as I easily snatch the bags from his grasp.
“Oh, I’m sure I can manage.” The defiance in my tone is clear, but my retaliation falters when I meet Adam’s gaze; if it were possible to be so lost in the warmth of a person, I think I would be lost in his. My heart, in an effort to keep me tethered, beats two times faster.
Then, as if my response were pleasing as a breeze in June, a smile, one which indicates no impulse to flee, forms on his lips. “Yes, I have no doubt you will.”
Again, without any will of my own, my heart seems to stutter, trying desperately to acquaint itself with the unbridled warmth emanating from light emerald eyes.
He turns, walking towards the Warehouse, and I quickly step in line with him, moving to stride just a bit ahead; the stretch from the hatchback to the entrance providing time enough to breathe my heartbeat into a more manageable rhythm.
Upon reaching the doors, he holds one open for me, and I feel my spark of rebellion rise as I plant my feet at the Warehouse’s threshold. “Adam,” I say, with a bite in my tone.
“Detective,” he says in all playfulness, acting the innocent, calling my title as if it were my own name, articulating tenderness with that one word.
“I can open my own doors, Adam.”
“I know you can, detective, and I will help you when I can.”
We stare at each other, both curious as to who will falter this time. With a tsk, I’m irked to find it’s me and I enter through the Warehouse doors, being sure that Adam sees the strength of my eye roll. I think I hear a breathy laugh from behind me, but when I turn, Adam only looks ahead.
We move through the crumbling façade, making our way to the Warehouse proper.
“Nate sent you on a grocery run?”
I nod, my boots resulting in only the faintest of thuds against the floor. “Considering how often he buys me food, I figured it was the least I could do.”
“You bought your own necessities as well.”
My gaze trails to him, assessing. “Are you judging my addiction to energy drinks?”
“I am merely admiring your ability to consume so many in such a short amount of time—” I move to speak, but he interrupts “—additionally, I see pain au chocolat is another vital necessity for you.” Again, a smirk, again that warmth, again I feel my heart pick up pace once more.
A bark of laughter erupts from me, and a cheek splitting grin rises. “Additionally—fuck off.”
His smirk mollifies into a smile, my grin tempers into one of my own—soft edges, the both of us. In this moment—so mundane, where the both of us are as stubborn as ever, enamored as ever, the both of us so disgustingly smitten with one another other—in this moment, I cannot help but think:
Additionally, I love you.
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northernsoulpie · 2 months ago
This is my @loveinwayhaven gift for @dakotawinchester I hope you like it, I’ve not written fic in a loooong time but I really enjoyed writing this! I loved Arabella and hope I did her character justice.
Pairing: Morgan x F!Detective  Arabella Aveiro
Warnings: some swears. Teen?
Laycott’s Bar & Grill was not the most salubrious bar in Wayhaven, but when it came to cheap drinks and rowdy night out, there was no where else quite like it. Tina had all but dragged Arabella out of her office, with vague threats of them ‘not hanging out anymore, like ever’ and that ‘Arabella, you’re becoming obsessed!  I promise you’ll feel so much better if you come out for a few drinks and take your mind off it!’. All absolute rubbish of course but Tina had been such a good friend over the years that she didn’t have the heart to keep turning turn her offers of spending time together. Plus, truth be told, she was entirely fed up of brooding over case files and photographs of possible evidence. Whenever Arabella went home to sleep for a few short hours, she’d even began to dream of filing cabinets and evidence lockers and blank case reports. Maybe Tina was right, maybe she was becoming obsessed. A few drinks might help her to relax she reckoned, take her mind off work, off the agency -and off her mother - for a while.
“Urgh why do I always end up getting plastered when I’m out with you?” Tina giggled into her beer bottle.
“Don’t blame me sunshine, this was entirely your idea!”
Tina waved the bottle animatedly as she spoke, sloshing beer onto the already sticky carpet, “Whatever, you need me to rescue you from all that paperwork every now and again. Stops you from getting…” She gestured haphazardly at Arabella sat across the booth from her.
“…getting on with my duties as a responsible professional?”
“HA! More like stops you from getting all boring and serious all of the time.”.
Arabella pushes her dark hair behind her ear, “Hey, come on! I’m not that serious all of the time. I’ll still me.”
Even as the words left her mouth, they’d felt like a lie. Tina’s eyebrow quirked as she leaned forward in her seat.
“You do seem different now, something’s definitely changed. Just drop the ‘Detective Aveiro’ mask for a short while and come back to being my best friend Arabella. Just every now and again. It’ll do you good, trust me on this Ari!”
Arabella sighed, trying to hide the flash of annoyance followed by the pang of regret at Tina’s words. Her work as Wayhaven’s only detective and liaison to the agency was now taking up all of her time, even cutting into her precious sleep, most nights. Her apartment looked like something out of a horror movie and her once beloved hobbies were long since neglected. No wonder Tina invited her out so often, she probably wanted to stage an intervention for best friend before she faded away for good.
She looked down at her own beer bottle and began to peel at the label. “It’s just been a tough few months, what with just starting this job and the murders…”
Tina’s smile faded, “Oh crap Ari. I know it has, I’m sorry. I just miss you that’s all.”
“I miss you too. I didn’t think taking on this role would demand so much more of my time, it feels like everything in this backwater little town is all going wrong at once and I’ve just been left to somehow fix it all.”
Tina grimaced but nodded sympathetically. “I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been Arabella, you’ve been left with such a crock. But you’re not on your own, you’ve got me and Verda and the rest of station to help you when work gets crazy. Not only that, we’re your friends – talk to us! I know you, you’ve always been moody and stubborn as hell but don’t lose yourself in all this crazy shit.”
Tina stopped abruptly. Arabella could tell there was more she desperately wanted to say - fumbling hands, tight lips, slight pained expression - the damning confession was coming.
…you do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on…
No! She really was losing herself to the job. This was her best friend damn it.
“Tee? It’s OK, it’s me. What is it?”
“I… really don’t want to upset you Ari, but you’re becoming just like her, just like Rebecca…”
Tina pursed her lips as though already regretting the words she’d just spoken out loud. She looked positively terrified of what Arabella ‘s reaction would be.
Arabella barked a laugh, “I know, I know. I understand what you’re saying Tina. I think you’re right though, maybe I do need to remove the plank from my ass every now and again.”
Tina began to laugh and Arabella joined her, feeling the sudden tension melt away again. It felt like a small resolution of sorts.
  Suddenly Tina stopped mid laugh and seemed to stare at something over Arabella’s shoulder. Arabella brought her beer bottle down from her lips.
“Tina? Is everything okay?”
Tina dragged her eyes back to Arabella and smirked.
“Tina? What on earth..”
“Drinking again Detective?”
The vampire emerged at their table from behind her. Arabella’s heart flipped before she could scold it thoroughly and will it back to a normal rhythm. Morgan was wearing her usual style; long dark hair layered so casually around her shoulders, a tight, black long sleeved T-shirt that shows off her curves to perfection, cords of leather around her wrists and neck. It’s an outfit that seems so impossibly nonchalant, like the old glam style rockers of the 80’s and 90’s but much, much cooler. And so damn hot.
Arabella shrugged, “Got to let my hair down every now and again.”
Morgan’s dark eyes flicked to her hair, almost of their own accord, before returning to looking her dead in the eyes. “You should let it down more often Detective.”
Arabella stared. She promised herself she wouldn’t let herself get affected by Morgan’s flirtations but when she used that tone, her defences simply melted away. Morgan glared back, eyebrow arching ever so daringly.
Tina nodded enthusiastically in her seat, gesturing at the vampire stood at their booth, “See that’s what I told her. Too much work and no play makes Detective Arabella a dull lay-day… wait that was awful. I couldn’t think of anything that rhymes with play haha.”
Morgan raises a sardonic eyebrow whilst Arabella rolled her eyes, “Okay Tina, think it’s time to bounce. Come on, grab your stuff and let’s find a taxi.”
“Oh nooo, why don’t you stay Ari? Agent Morgan will see you get home safe, isn’t that right Morgan?” Tina waggled her brow and didn’t bother to hide the obvious smirk whilst she looked between the two of them. Arabella had tempting visions of throwing her jacket over Tina’s face and giving her a few choice jabs to the ribs to shut her up.  Tina’s clumsy attempts at match-making were somehow growing worse as the years went on.
Morgan stepped forward to help Tina as she struggled into her jacket, “Sure, I’ll help Miss Poname to get a taxi outside. You gonna get us a couple of drinks Arabella?”
She blanched from shooting daggers at Tina’s grin. That was… not expected. She watched as Tina finally wrestled into her jacket before allowing Morgan to take her gently by the arm and expertly maneuver her through the busy bar. Once or twice, Tina even turned to reply cheerily or laugh at something the vampire said as they walked. Arabella stared after them. Morgan wasn’t usually this friendly or helpful to anyone, especially not to humans. She had to be playing at something, she was sure of it. After a minute or so, Arabella suddenly remembered she was meant to be getting them drinks and made her way over to the bar. When she returned to their table, she noticed Morgan striding back through the crowd toward her. People seemed to move out of way instinctively, probably something to do with Morgan’s impressive resting bitch face and arrogant stride through the throngs of patrons. Some turned their heads to appraise the gorgeous vampire, she seemed to have that effect whenever she went out in public, in spite of the ever-present scowl. Morgan threw herself down on the sofa next to her, startling her slightly. Arabella passed Morgan her drink, hoping the motion would hide her surprise at the sudden closeness.
“Here. I couldn’t remember what you had to drink last time we were here, so I just got you a rum and coke.”
Morgan wrinkled her nose for a second before accepting the glass, “Not my first choice but whatever, drink’s a drink.”
She took a hearty gulp of the rum and leant back into the sofa. Arabella watched the vampire through the edge of her vision before turning to her.
“Thanks for helping Tina find a taxi, I think she was a little drunk by the end there.”
Morgan shrugged. “Yeah it’s no big deal, I actually kind of like your friend.”
Arabella pursed her lips and gave Morgan a disbelieving look.
Morgan sighed and rolled her eyes, “She can be so giddy and irritating – even for a human- but she looks out for you. Cares for you. You should listen to her advice more often, the job ain’t going anywhere.”
Arabella stiffened, “What advice do you me… you were listening to our conversation? Seriously?!”
Morgan took another sip of her rum and coke, “Only the end of it, I was coming over to see you and Tina was drunkenly broadcasting your conversation to the rest of the bar. So no, I wasn’t listening in. Like I’ve got nothing better to do than spy on your personal drama with your friends.”
It was a convincing lie, Arabella would give her that. It Morgan had tried that on any other person, they probably would’ve believed her. Luckily for her, she had been trained to spot liars, even the very good ones. Even the ones that lied to themselves.
Feeling impulsive, Arabella carefully her drink down on the table and turned her body around to face Morgan. She crossed one leg artfully over the other which Morgan didn’t miss the dangled opportunity to run her eyes over. Playing the ‘good cop’ in interrogations wasn’t something Arabella did often but this time, she could make an exception.
“So, are you going to tell me what you’re really doing here Morgan?”
“I’m on patrol duty tonight. Ava has us all patrolling this little shit hole town every night to keep watch for any unusual activity.”
Arabella leant back, draping one arm over the back of the couch and with her other hand, carefully sweeping her dark hair over her shoulder. Morgan had seemed to like that motion earlier. At this point in time, Arabella couldn’t exactly point out why she now felt such a rush at teasing Morgan. Catching out little lies and discrepancies was something that gratified her but it never seemed to excite her like this. Maybe it just was catching this particular person out that had this effect on her.  It was like her brain and her body had just taken over her conscious mind and now she was just running on pure adrenalin alone.
She tapped her chin, “And Ava instructed you to come inside the bar to have a few drinks as part of the patrol, did she? There’s never been an incident occur inside this bar to date. Not to mention that government agency SOP’s for patrols must be very different to front line agencies.”
Morgan seemed surprised for a brief second, before narrowing her eyes, “If you want me to be honest, here it is Detective. It’s really it’s just to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don’t get yourself kidnapped or attacked AGAIN.”
“I couldn’t be bothered sitting outside in the freezing cold for hours, so I thought I’d come in.”
Arabella dropped her hands to her lap and looked away feeling quite deflated, “Well, that answers that question then.”
“You thought I had come in here just to see you Detective?”
Arabella felt the blush burn on her cheeks as she stumbled to think of a retort. She reached forward and took a strategic swig of her beer. As she leant back into the sofa, she felt Morgan’s hand on her crossed knee. The warmth of it seemed to burn through the material and electrify her skin. Arabella knew there would be no hiding the redness of her face now.
“Well maybe I did come in here just to see you, maybe I timed my patrol route carefully so I could see you in here. Guess you’ll never find out the truth of it Detective.”
“I always find out the truth of it Agent, that’s my job.”
“You want to find out the truth of me, don’t you Detective? I’d certainly like to find out a few things regarding you, have done since the first time I walked into your office.”
Morgan carefully plucked the bottle of beer from Arabella’s hand, placed it on the table in front of them. Almost imperceptibly as she leant back from the table, she had somehow inched closer to Arabella, no longer having to stretch her hand out to rest on her knee. Arabella could feel Morgan’s breath caress her face and she felt her blood start to rush as Morgan’s lips came closer. Her breath caught as she considered closing the gap between them and kissing Morgan first. The agent always seemed like having the upper hand in their flirtations and surprising Morgan really would be so immensely satisfying. The fantasy quickly slipped away though as Arabella lost her nerve, caught in the moment of just aching to see what Morgan would do next.
Arabella sighed. She didn’t know what on earth Morgan was doing to her, one minute Arabella could be so causal and smooth but in the next she would feel so timid and inexperienced. Arabella had dated plenty in her college years, some were just as flirty and promiscuous as Morgan and she’d had no problem then. None of those women had ever sent her into a tailspin like this. She knew Morgan would probably want just a casual thing between them and that was fine, she’d learnt long ago not to let feelings get in the way when dating women like her. Anyway, right now she was just letting her hair down. Forgetting all about the last few months and the station, just as she had promised Tina. No matter what this woman did to her, she reassured herself, Arabella knew how to take what she needed and not get attached. She had been practicing her whole life.
Morgan shifted her hand over hers on the back on the sofa and shifted toward her until they were sat only centimeters apart. The feeling of skin touching skin was like a burning brand as the hand on her knee slid smoothly up to rest on her thigh. As Morgan’s lips grew closer, Arabella almost stopped breathing. As her eyes fluttered closed, she was vaguely aware of her previous statement about not becoming attached ringing hollow as the lust and the something else just there burned brightly in her chest.
  The shrill ring tone cut through silence, making both of them jump and freeze. Arabella opened her eyes to see Morgan scowling worse than she had ever seen the woman scowl before. She pitied the poor person on the other end of the phone.
Morgan sat back, snatching her mobile from her back packet at almost superhuman speed.
“What is it?”
Arabella winced.
“No. Fine. Whatever, just don’t tell her. Yes. Done, get here quickly Farrah.”
Arabella heard the plastic crack as Morgan punched the call end button and jammed the phone unceremoniously back into her back pocket.
“Farrah’s almost here, my shift is over.”
She nodded back, “At least your patrol was uneventful in the bar tonight.”
Morgan titled her head as she glared back at her, “Hmmm, uneventful?” She purred.
At that sultry tone Arabella jumped up, grateful to have a chance to clear her head before she did something incredibly stupid. They were colleagues of sort, after all. Fraternising with colleagues was always a terrible idea, no matter how good things had been getting only minutes earlier.
Arabella cleared her throat pointedly, “Anyway, it’s getting late. I better be getting back to my apartment.”
“Come on, I’ll see you outside and find you a taxi back.”
Morgan watched quietly with dark eyes as Arabella felt her way into her leather jacket and patted herself down to check her belongings. When finished, she turned to Morgan. Morgan dutifully put her arm out which she took gratefully.
“Thank you, Agent and thanks for the drink.”
“Any time Detective.”
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natesewell · 2 months ago
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the wayhaven chronicles: agent felix hauville x detective lorenzo batra
surprise @ayhavenway ! i had you for @loveinwayhaven ❤️ i had so much fun making this edit i hope you like it 🥺
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