#I just know it I just know in my heart I’ll smell downright edible | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 5 years ago

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neighbors

request: Can you do 14 with Tyson Jost?

prompt: “We're not just friends and you fucking know it.” / number 14 off of this list with Tyson Jost.

summary: It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that you would fall for your adorable neighbor Tyson.

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing

word count: 1.9k

You didn't exactly plan on crushing on your neighbor, nor did you plan on having him over for dinner three nights a week. Shortly after moving in, though, you realized the cute brunette who lived in the apartment next door had limited survival skills.

Tyson Jost may be a professional athlete, but he had next to zero domestic capabilities and you had found that out one day, completely by chance. You were upset after having been bailed on this guy you were seeing on and off, and after receiving a text from him that he was getting back with his ex, and that whatever was going on between the two of you was over. You wouldn't have been so furious if he hadn’t asked to you cook dinner for him before dropping the bombshell.

You turned off the stove and were about to head to the store to pick up a much needed bottle of wine when you heard your neighbor bickering with his friend outside their door. You weren’t completely dumb, you recognized them as Tyson Jost and JT Compher from Denver’s very own Colorado Avalanche.

“You’re not cooking, Josty. I’d rather not get food poisoning.” The redhead teased as they stood outside Tyson’s door. They were debating on where to go and you couldn’t help but overhear as you dug around in your bag to try and find you keys in order to lock your door.

“I really don’t want to go out, though.” Tyson explained, and you suddenly felt braver than you usually did. You figured your boost of confidence was due to annoyance for being bailed on and played.

“I, uh, have a whole meal cooked if you guys want to come over?” You offered, both men snapping their heads to you. You felt your cheeks heat up, but then a wide smile broke out across Tyson’s face. You were a little consoled by the fact that his face turned a little red too.

“Are you sure? We don’t want to intrude?” JT spoke first, gesturing between himself and Tyson, the latter of which who hadn't stopped smiling at you. “Trust me, no one’s showing up to intrude on.” You replied, a little sad but mostly upset and JT nodded at you with a comforting smile on his face. Tyson must not have understood what you meant, because he was looking between his teammate and his neighbor, trying to figure out what he could’ve missed.

“Do you want us to bring anything?” Tyson gave up on trying to silently ask JT to catch him up, instead turning to you and gesturing with his thumb into his own apartment.

“Just a bottle of wine.” You grinned, leaning against the frame of your door and watching as the two boys chuckled. “Unless you don’t like chicken and veggies, I’ve got everything.”

“I’m Tyson, by the way.” He introduced himself, walking closer to you as JT slipped back into his teammate’s apartment, muttering that he wanted to pick the wine.

“I know.” You told Tyson, entering back into your apartment and moving back into the kitchen, the food you had abandoned on the counter still warm. You turned back to find Tyson leaning against the counter, taking in the room and cataloging how different the way you decorated was to his apartment. “Kind of a big hockey fan.”

It was then that Tyson’s attention returned to you, and with a smile he watched as you stood on your tip-toes to reach the wine glasses, you giving him your name as casually as you could with someone as attractive as him studying you. You heard him chuckle behind you, crossing the small kitchen easily to grab three glasses for you.

“You should probably put these on the lower shelf.” Tyson teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“We can’t all be six feet tall and a professional athlete.” You teased back, feeling a lot less upset than you should for someone who just found out they’d been strung along for the better part of two months.

“Well, I’ll try to use my advantages for good.” Tyson teased, and before you could respond with something witty, and maybe even a little flirty, JT knocked on you front which you had left open for him. You were glad he announced his arrival, you didn’t want him walking in and embarrassing yourself by him possibly overhearing your banter.

Two months later and you still hadn’t moved the wine glasses to a lower shelf. But, turns out, it didn’t matter much, because on most nights when you wanted to break out the wine, you were accompanied by your new best friend and neighbor, Tyson Jost.

Of course, with his crazy hockey schedule, he wasn’t always there, but he was at your place enough and you had developed a crush on him. It felt practically inevitable, with how attractive he was and his sheer adorableness. He would say things that were pretty oblivious, and sometimes downright dumb, but it was endearing and you quickly found yourself swooning.

“Tys, what are you doing?” You questioned, somewhat serious though thoroughly amused. He had been clattering in your kitchen for the past fifteen minutes, saying that he wanted to cook you dinner in return for feeding him so often and that you had to stay in the living room so you wouldn’t ruin the surprise. You question was met with the crash of pots and pans, and you heard Tyson swear lowly.

“Uh, cooking?” He sounded so unsure of himself, and probably due to good reason, that you laughed loudly at him. You paused the show you were watching, walking to your kitchen but before you could enter the room, he heard you footsteps and yelled for you to stay out. “I want it to be a surprise when I’m done.” You could hear the pout in his voice, and a smile tugged the corner of your lips upwards.

“Well, I don’t trust you to be in the kitchen alone.” You stood just outside kitchen, complying with his wishes but voicing your thoughts.

“Don’t worry, I’m helping him.” A female voice called from your kitchen, and you furrowed your brows tightly, wondering just when someone else had shown up and how they had managed to sneak past you into the kitchen. Then you placed the voice as someone you had met a few times through Tyson. Mel Landeskog, the wife of his captain. The swell of jealously that grew in your chest at the thought of someone else being with Tyson turned into warmth that he had called his captain's wife for cooking tips.

You pointedly ignored the fact that you momentarily turned green with jealousy.

“Hi, Mel.” You chuckled, hearing her laugh in response. “Just make sure he doesn’t burn my apartment down, please.” With a laugh she promised to keep your kitchen safe and told you that she was making sure whatever food Tyson made was edible, to which he protested indignantly.

Laughing in amusement, you returned to your spot on the couch to let him finish cooking and left you to analyze your whole situation with the professional hockey player cooking you dinner. You knew things had always been a little bit flirty with him, but he had never done anything past a few compliments followed by him blushing profusely.

By the time that he had told you everything was set up for you in the kitchen, your thoughts had spiraled into overanalyzing every interaction you’ve ever had with him. He met you in the doorway of the kitchen, his large frame blocking your view from whatever he had done on the other side.

Your heart was thundering in your chest as you took in his appearance. He was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a comfortable sweater with the sleeves pushed up. To make the whole scenario more domestic, he had a dish towel tossed over his shoulder. He was smiling widely at you, nervously wringing his hands in front of him.

“Close your eyes, and then I'm going to lead you into the kitchen.” There was a nervous edge to his voice that didn’t help calm you. When you nodded and closed your eyes, Tyson moved from the doorway to stand beside you, placing his hand over your eyes. “Just to make sure you're not peaking.”

“You make me nervous.” You sighed, ignoring the flutter in your stomach at his touch. His other hand fell to the small of your back to help lead you around, and as soon as you entered the kitchen you were met with the smell of pasta that drew a soft smile onto your face. He only moved you a few feet into the so soon enough he was stopping you.

“Okay, so before you open you eyes, just know that I totally plan on doing the dishes later.” He explained, and though the comment drew a breathy chuckle out of you, it did nothing to soothe the fear that some drastic change was about to happen between you and Tyson. The air was charged with an almost unreadable energy, and all you could do was nod at him.

Tyson removed his hand from its place covering your eyes and when you took in the sight before you, you felt your jaw drop. He had set your kitchen table with plates of spaghetti and your favorite roasted vegetables, a meal easy enough that he wouldn't screw it up, especially with Mel’s help. A couple candles were lit on the table and counters, and he had even gone as far setting up a bouquet of flowers next to a bottle of champagne.

“I know that this is a lot, considering we’re just friends...” Tyson trailed off and you shook your head, dismissing any negative thoughts he might've formed about your silence. Your thoughts were racing a thousand miles a minute as your heart thundered in your chest. “If it's too much, then I can just go—”

“We're not just friends and you fucking know it.” You cut him off, knowing that if you didn't get it off your chest now you never would. You spun slightly, turning away from the table and towards him, who had been shuffling nervously on his feet behind you trying to gauge your reaction. He was looking at you with a confused look on his face, but it was obvious that he had been blushing profusely. “Tyson, we’re not just friends.”

“Yeah, we’re not.” He agreed, smiling dumbly. The overwhelmed look on your face morphed into a grin as you realized your bold statement had been just as true for him as it was for you. “Friends don’t do all this, I guess.” He gestured to the table and you laughed.

“No, they don’t.” You agreed, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn't hold yourself back anymore, not when he was standing in the candlelight, surrounded by the smell of good food and looking so domestic.

You launched yourself at him, cupping his cheeks in your hands and pulling him down slightly to meet you halfway as you pushed yourself up onto your tippy toes to crash your lips onto his. He leaned down after you, not keen on breaking the kiss so soon as you balanced yourself back on your feet. His hands settled on your waist, and even when you pulled back for air he didn't remove them. Still, he was smiling at you with his adorable grin and even when you spoke next and your cheeks hurt from your own grin your voice was still hushed.

“C’mon, Tys, let’s see if you’re as bad a cook as JT says.”

#tyson jost #Tyson Jost imagine #Tyson Jost imagines #Tyson Jost x reader #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagines #colorado avalanche imagine #Colorado Avalanche x reader #nhl #NHL imagines #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey imagines

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pennamesmith · 5 years ago

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Fabulous Skeletor Powers

She-Ra sings. Catra tries. Hordak prays. Entrapta says hey, what’s going on? More ‘Skeletor’ stories.

Catra awoke from a strange dream of She-Ra singing and dancing to the soft light of dawn. She yawned and shook the sleep from her head.

Adora was next to her, snoring as loudly as a landslide. Looking down at her Catra smiled and relaxed, which was a feeling she was still getting used to, nearly a year after the end of everything.

There had been times, alone in the Horde, when she had been unable to do anything but lie in bed at night and cry, trying desperately to flush out all the thoughts running around in her head.

Now, things were different. It felt a little peculiar. On bad days she still worried that she would never be able to make up for the damage she’d done, and didn’t deserve the happiness she had now. In her better moments she was able to remember that it wasn’t really about getting or having, but about trying all the time to see and return the love that had always been there for her.

Adora snorted and rolled over. Moving carefully so as not to disturb her, Catra rose and padded to the small kitchen of their Bright Moon home. Somewhere along the way she was joined by Melog, mewling and pressing against her shins for attention. She gave it, and the space cat’s tail twitched happily.

Without really having any particular plan in mind, Catra withdrew various ingredients from the cupboards and began to fix a modest breakfast. Before she had time to make any grievous cooking errors, Adora was suddenly awake and there behind her, hugging her, smiling, correcting the wayward cat’s mistakes, and adding a healthy dose of her own.

Before long they had something made from eggs and bread and vegetables that was not only edible but downright delicious, at least compared to green ration bars. They sat at their small table and ate and laughed together while Melog lay curled at their feet and purred contentedly.

Adora appeared to be thinking about something. She had one hand thrust in her pocket and her chin rested in the other, face screwed up in careful contemplation. Finally, she seemed to come to a decision. She looked up and leaned forward with a grin. “Hey, stud,” she started.

Catra burst into laughter, cutting off whatever Adora had been about to say next. “What was that? Was that supposed to be smooth?” she cackled.

Adora tried to recover. “Hey, I’m just kidding! Yeesh!” She waved her hands defensively. “I — Look, let me try that again.”

But Catra wasn’t really listening, because it had suddenly occurred to her that between the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window, the smell of their perfect breakfast, the warm, bursting feeling in her chest, and Adora sitting right in front of her, that this moment was absolutely, stomach-turningly picturesque.

That would have made her angry before. Now she felt something else.

Adora noticed her girlfriend’s distant look and reached out for her. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Uh, not much!” Catra stammered, suddenly aware that she needed to get something from the other room, immediately. “I’ll be right back!”

She rushed to the spot where she hid important things, reached between a small bag of catmint and a little ball with a jingle bell inside, and retrieved a tiny hinged box with Entrapta’s factory seal of approval stamped on the lid.

She stuffed it deep in one pocket and hurried back to the kitchen table, heart pounding. Adora, in the meantime, had changed her sword into a golden toy mouse on a string and was letting Melog chase it across the floor.

“Oh good, you’re back!” Adora sat up straight in her chair and brightened. “Listen, I didn't really plan to do this right now — I actually wasn’t sure when exactly I was gonna do it until right now — but I’ve been thinking about… stuff. A lot. And this morning just felt so perfect and I was so happy that I thought, hey, maybe I should take a chance and…”

She trailed off. While she was talking she had withdrawn something from her own pocket and was fidgeting nervously with it. It, too, was a very small box, red and blue-black. Almost automatically, Catra produced hers.

They looked at each other soundlessly. A great number of things were said without words.

Ultimately it didn’t matter who broke the silence first, because the conversation would have been the same either way:

“So… I have a question for you.”

“I do, too.”

“You first?”

“Together.”

Hordak awoke to the sound of a klaxon alarm going off. Entrapta sat up straight in bed beside him, instantly alert, eyes wide with excitement.

“It’s happening!” She cried. “Variable A has been exposed to Variable C! The reaction has begun!” She laughed, maniacal and exuberant.

Hordak arose, much more blearily than his partner, and smiled. “I was wondering when they were going to get around to that. We finished making their rings weeks ago.”

“To the observation dome!” Entrapta shouted, leaping to her feet. “For science!” She scuttled out the door and away in a blur of purple and enthusiasm. Chuckling softly, Hordak stood and followed after her.

He stepped outside of their shared room in the Crypto Castle and took a deep breath as he prepared to climb the high stairs to Entrapta’s tower lab. He liked walking them; there were faster and easier ways to the top of the tower but the plodding pattern of his footsteps helped him examine and order his thoughts.

Going up the spiral staircase always seemed like climbing a great hill. It felt good to have hope, and a destination. The closer he got to the top, the more clearly he could hear Entrapta’s cries of excitement. It was like approaching a sun. That felt good, too.

Soon enough he reached the door to the lab (it was already ajar) and gently pushed his way inside. His partner was there, at work in the center of everything, cross-legged in midair as her hair stretched in a dozen different directions.

Entrapta cooed over her scientific instruments. Hordak watched her and felt something powerful move in his chest. Happiness branched through his body and showed plainly on his face. He no longer felt the need to hide his feelings inside.

Coming out of his reverie, Hordak realized quickly that Entrapta was not the only one present. Also populating the lab were Emily, who was doing a headstand, Imp, who was egging her on by playing peppy recordings of Scorpia’s voice, and a reprogrammed Horde drone Entrapta had named ‘Skeletor,’ who was shaking his fists and yelling.

“I’m talking to you, you dimwitted duo!” Skeletor shouted at the other two. “What is it that holds your attention more than the mighty Skeletor?”

Imp blew a raspberry and Emily made a dismissive beeping noise. They returned to ignoring him.

“How you vex me,” Skeletor grumbled.

Hordak looked away from this scene and approached Entrapta. She turned and made a happy noise, reaching out to draw him closer.

Entrapta eagerly showed off her equipment. “Look, look!” She pointed to one of the screens. “This reading means that both of the ring boxes have been opened. And this one means they’re both wearing them!”

She squealed in delight and leaned into Hordak’s shoulder. “And I could’ve gotten a visual, too, but somebody said that would be rude.” She stuck her tongue out, facetiously.

“There is nothing you could not do, if you set your mind to it,” Hordak told her. He pointed to the screen. “Tell me, what do these numbers mean?”

“Heart rate and endorphin levels!” Entrapta replied, happy to explain her machinations. “And it seems like things are going well!” She looked thoughtful. “Hm. You know, I’ve never been to another princess’ wedding before. I wonder if it involves magic? Or if they’ll have tiny food? What kind of present do you think we should bring?”

“I have read about Etherian traditions regarding this institution,” Hordak said, frowning. “This is going to be… somewhat more involved than our ceremony was, isn’t it?”

“If you mean that it won’t be in a lab and there’ll be more witnesses than Imp and the robots, then yes.” Entrapta had concern in her eyes. “What’s going on? Are you worried about the crowd? I know lots of tricks for staying calm in big groups.”

Hordak shook his head. “I was more concerned about how the other guests would react to… well.” He gestured vaguely to himself. “The ones who don’t know us as well as the happy couple, I mean.”

“There’s also Wrong Hordak. And Scorpia. And Perfuma’s getting to like you, too!” Entrapta pointed out. “Plus all the clones from our therapy group. You’re kind of their hero, y’know.”

“I cannot imagine why,” Hordak said. He looked away for a moment, toward where Skeletor continued to bother Imp and Emily.

“You pathetic pair of pitiful pinheads!” Skeletor fumed. “Some day I’ll have the power to destroy you! Some day!”

Imp grumbled and rode Emily to the other side of the lab, leaving the gangly troublemaker behind. Skeletor balled his fists and whined in frustration.

Hordak pursed his lips. “And that still leaves the matter of the other princesses, not to mention the citizenry. Ever since the revolution against Prime, I’ve hoped — ”

“And he prays!” Skeletor suddenly cut in. “Myaah!”

Hordak sighed. “Yes, even that. Every day. To the planet, or whoever cares to listen, that I have not done irreparable harm to this world. Or the fellowship it is made up of. But I fear it may already be too late.”

“Let me check the data!” Entrapta flipped rapidly through her screens. “Nope, Etheria is currently stable. Elemental readings are within parameters. You’re all good!”

Hordak smiled but did not look comforted. “Damage can go deeper than data, my dear,” he said.

“Ah, you’re referring to feelings being hurt.” The princess looked pleased with herself. “Well, I’ve got metrics for that, too. Everyone at Wrong Hordak’s therapy group is now twice as likely to initiate conversations with you while we’re there. Angry glares from people on the street are down forty percent since your cleanup and reconstruction work on Beast Island and Salineas. And...”

Entrapta put her hands on her hips and drew herself up to her full five feet. “You’re my lab partner. If anyone’s got a problem with that, I’ll fight them!” She stuck out her chin and flexed her arms.

Hordak’s worried expression softened. “I am humbled by your loyalty,” he said, sincerely. Then he grew pensive again. ”Do you... ever regret it?” he asked, touching a fingertip to the crystal on his collarbone and gazing at the matching one around Entrapta’s neck.

“A stupid question!” Skeletor interrupted.

“There’s no such thing,” Entrapta retorted. She picked the robot up with her hair and deposited him elsewhere, then turned her attention back to Hordak. “And to answer yours, no I do not. That data point remains unchanged.”

She flashed her eyes flirtatiously and handed him a graph. “Endearment, concupiscence, and intellectual stimulation, however, have all increased considerably. See for yourself!”

Hordak couldn’t help but smile as he reviewed her charts. The warm feeling returned to his chest. “I cannot argue with such fine research,” he relented.

“Data doesn’t lie!” Entrapta affirmed.

“You think you’re so smart!” Skeletor griped.

Without looking around, Entrapta picked him up again and placed him by the door. While he complained, Emily and Imp shooed him the rest of the way out, the latter playing a long recording of Skeletor’s own toothless insults as they went.

“You are still the finest scientist I know,” Hordak purred. He held out a hand. “May I assist you with your work?”

Entrapta beamed. “I thought you’d never ask!” She wrapped herself around him and drew him into her world. Hordak gladly followed. Together, they learned and discovered.

It was fabulous.

“Hordak and She-Ra, both defeated in the same day!” Skeletor said. “Ha! I should come to Etheria more often!”

#she ra fanfiction #catradora #entrapdak #adora #catra #hordak #entrapta #skeletor #fan fiction

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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

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A Girl Walks Into A Bar 14

Characters: Declan Harp x Bella Fiore (OFC)

Summary: Modern Declan harp AU. For their first outing on the town together, the sexual tension is ripe and heavy in the air. Will their night end how they plan it?

Warnings/Tags: Mild Language. Date Night. Flirting. Sexual Content. Violence.

Click on my screen name then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please leave a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed this! It makes me want to write more of what you want if you let me know!

Bella found herself floating like a much younger girl who’d never been hurt, slumping against the door after a slow and tortuous goodnight kiss.

She could smell him on her hands where she’s buried them in his hair and under his jacket, feel the plumpness of her lips, swollen from kissing him so long. She hummed with calm energy, biting her lip and smiling with no one around to make fun of her girlish behavior. No one except Robbie anyway.

Declan had a dopey smile on his face that he didn’t try to hide from anyone. Smile staying as he kept sighing, feeling a fullness in his chest as he drove home. The line had been crossed, his patience had been rewarded with an amazingly soft and sweet Bella and kisses of the same description. His moody little badass, his low key sweetheart and an absolute stunner in his eyes. And she wanted more. Of him, specifically which made his shoulders go slack and his insides melt at the words. A big puppy getting its belly rubbed is what he felt like, all warm and wiggly and excited. A kiss like the one they shared could only mean that other things between them would also be good. Man, they had chemistry, he thought to himself as he grew only slightly distracted on the empty road at the late hour. He knew he’d be thinking about her until he saw her again. He already wanted to. But he had to show restraint. Didn’t want to come on too strong for a woman like her, scare her off. He had her purring like a kitten in his arms, a smile on her lips after he kissed them, whispering she was looking forward to the date and more of this. It’s exactly where he’d wanted her, and he was going to make her his.

———

Mid-way through the workweek the whole office is buzzing about Bella. Did you see her in PINK lipstick? Hear her listening to Al Green? See the way she smiles at her phone when it lit up now? Her normally curmudgeon behavior had softened its edges just slightly. At least when she thought no one was paying attention.

“You gonna fess up yet?”

“Nothing to confess.” She says brow still low as her fingers shifted through a binder.

“Then tell me why you’re smiling at your phone at least? If it really is nothing I can squash the rumors.”

“Rumors?” She scoffs

“You know, secret boyfriend, secret girlfriend? Hitched in secret, pregnant with a hidden long term partners child?” She offers with a smirk.

“None of those things.” She replies looking up with a not hateful but not accommodating face.

“You gonna blame it on dog memes again?” CeeCee quirks a brow.

“To be fair...it usually is dog memes.” She lets out a low chuckle.

“Fine. I’ll find out one of these days.” She calls out as she walks down the hall.

——

“I closed up before you even got back, boyo.” Mike already grinning ear to ear as he puts on his apron, Declan sat at the bar and going over his books.

“It’s because I got back after that.” He says in a sash tone Mike is used to.

“And…? How’d it go?” He asks leaning on his elbows on the opposite side of the counter.

“Great.” He says plainly.

“Oh c’mon!” He says and shoves Declan’s shoulder.

He takes off his reading glasses and purses his lips at Mike.

“Ya not talkin? That bad? Or that good?” He asks with a jutting out chin and smile that read as patronizing.

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

“You’ve not had no kissin TO tell in so long and Christ knows I innit gettin’ any so give me somethin’. Let me know my boy's heart’s intact. That we’ll be seein’ little Bella again.”

“If I told you and she found out she’d be pissed.”

“Likes her privacy eh?”

“Anyone with a brain would assume so.” He shoots Mike an obvious glare.

“So there’s somethin to tell?”

“There’s not...nothing to tell.”

“Fuckin spit it out, if ya can’t tell ya best mate who the fuck can ya tell?”

He sighs and gives in, having her on his mind constantly he wanted to tell someone bless him, it was in his nature to share good news to those close to him. “Paintball was a hit, she was great, liked it. Ate at Tony’s, perfect. Talked for hours. She was...well ya know. I think she was amazing.” He muttered the last part.

“Oh look at him! A wee blush to his cheeks! He’s got it bad he does!” He pinches Declan’s cheek and he smacks him away. “So ya didn’t take her to bed yet eh? Never known two adults who like each other so much to take it so damned slow.”

“We didn’t sleep together but…” he smirks, “I did kiss her.”

“There he is! Lady killer! Get her boy!” He growls and cheers enthusiastically as Declan grins at him slapping his arm.

“We’re going out on a real date this weekend.”

“Oh, a real one eh? That mean you need to clean your apartment?” Mike teases.

“Already did so, jokes on you.” He answers with a groan as he stretches his back. “But I might not be back that night.” He adds.

“I sure as fuck hope not!” Mike says obviously.

————

One part of Bella didn’t want to seem too eager, but another part of her brain wanted to just say “fuck it!” and get all sexed up. She knew he would be looking fine as hell, how could he not? They were going to a place that required reservations, so she takes her time planning her date night look.

It’s been years since she’d cared about such a thing. Dates were casual and in most cases led to nothing after. There were jeans sure but there was also the occasion high heel thrown in the mix, the clipping in of a few wefts of hair, but as she stood in the bathroom and gathered all her things to prep and shave and scrub she remembered that this particular bit had never been fun. Bella wasn’t one to make a big fuss over body hair. Particularly at her age where her main opinion was if he doesn’t want hair on it, he’s too immature to eat it. But with a want to impress she found herself considering it. She shaved her legs and pits and trimmed the rest in the end. Maybe Declan would be into it? And shrugs at the thought and starts to wonder what sort of situation she’ll find on him.

With successfully not getting distracted and having to masturbate before the date thinking about him, unlike the past week where her toys had seen ample use, she now stands in front of her closet in the dress she’d picked out. Should she go for the fuck me pumps she’d splurged on years ago, thinking she would surely find an occasion to wear them, and she hadn’t much at all? Certainly not enough to warrant what she paid for them. But the bottoms matched her tight red dress and she decided she couldn’t pass it up.

Teased and polished she sways and looks at herself in the mirror, knowing another check of her bed would warrant nothing new. She’d cleaned and situated everything just so.

“Can you believe mama might be getting some tonight?” She asks Robbie.

He seems disinterested as he lays on his toy mouse on the corner of the bed.

“I sure as hell can’t.” She mutters, primping just for the hell of it, taking selfies and letting the Slow Jams Hard playlist fill the room.

Declan admittedly hadn’t put so much prep into his look. He was a very low maintenance kind of guy. Plus everything she’d ever complimented him on was covered, wavy hair and beard intact he only trims a little on his face for good measure. He trimmed a little below the belt as well, just as torn on the decision as Bella had been. Neither would have cared ironically. Bella was really into the natural look anyway.

He takes a cab, something that throws her off but shows her he plans on having some fun. And she would always be down for fun with Declan.

She peeps out of her window, strappy black heels ticking across the hardwood floor. “Fuck.” She whispers. God, he looked good. In a black button-up shirt that was tight in all the right places, a few undone at the top to reveal a charm necklace he looks positively edible to her. He cleaned up well, and she wasn’t normally a fan of dress clothes on men, but he’d changed her opinion on so many things already she shouldn’t be surprised. He still wore his big black boots, she could hear them heavy on the front porch, a jingle of a chain, a deep voice clearing his throat as a tingle ran down her spine.

She opens the door before he even knocks, being more than ready to see him face to face after being without him for days. She’d thought about him more the past week than she had in all the months of knowing him.

With his hand raised to knock, he forgets to lower it for a moment as she reveals herself. He felt underdressed despite the slacks and button-up shirt because next to her he thought he’d look downright sloppy.

“Hey...Bella..” a drawn-out and delayed greeting with eyes not meeting hers as he looked at her in her tight red dress. Just a hint of thigh, thin straps over her shoulders holding a chest that demanded he looked with its glimmer. Her skin gleamed as she moved but nothing compared to the smile he found on her face when he managed to drag his eyes up to hers.

“Hey yourself.” She gives him a cocky nod, getting the reaction she wanted out of him. And she better have, what with how much this lingerie had cost. She’d never spent so much on such little fabric before. But she was a fan of an indulgent purchase from time to time.

He turns and holds a finger up to the cab driver and moves inside to shut the door. “Can I tell you just how fuckin’ good you look without you slapping me?” He asks with glazed eyes and a smirk.

“I insist.” She purrs in response, her heels making her so much taller than before, standing up closer to his 6’ 4” daunting frame. He was a beast of a man but he could play civilized as she was seeing in his choices tonight.

“I’m glad we have reservations because otherwise, I might just tell that driver to fuck off.” He says with a slight laugh to his voice, hands moving to her bare upper arms and leaning in for a kiss.

“I’m not so glad about it.” She speaks softly back and gives him a playful tug at his bottom lip with her teeth. “Because you look so good in this, Declan.” Her voice breathy and, making his heart race. Her hands rub up against his chest, fingertips over the bare skin to his neck where she gives his beard a tug to bring him into another kiss. Round after round, the kisses could’ve gone on forever, but he wasn’t about to miss out on his hard attempts to woo her properly. Or at least what he thought she deserved.

He isn’t sure what he expected from her, but this sultry sort of behavior hadn’t been it. He’d been behaving himself, not sure where to put his hands at first, but when her fingers with their long nails snaked up the back of his neck, scratching into his scalp he moaned, a low chuckle against his lips. “That’s what I want to hear.” she smiles, looking up at him and his closed eyes. “You don’t have to be so well mannered Declan. We’re past that now, don’t you think?” she asks sweetly with naughty intentions with a tilt of her head, tongue giving his lips a little teasing lick. Man, was she feistier than he anticipated. But it only made him more eager to know more of this side of her.

“I didn’t wanna...insult you, ya’know? Didn’t want you to think that’s what this was all about.” he says with still closed eyes as she continues to scratch.

“You’re too sweet Declan.” she coos. “You don’t have to to worry about me dropping you for touching me. You’ve proven you’re not just around for a fuck. Besides... I really want you to touch me.”

With expressed permission, he forces his eyes open and looks down at her, a seductive portrait of a woman, and looking at him with long lashes and a wicked smile that told him everything else he needed to hear. “Good.” a deeper, more masculine voice and version of him emerges, no longer trying to withhold himself from her. Perhaps she was only hesitant before, and now that she felt she trusted him, all the walls that had been up that kept them from expressing just how much they wanted each other were now rubble, a clear attraction finally able to be confessed. “Because I’ve thought about touching you all week.” he adds before taking her for another deep kiss, big broad hands finally wrapping around her waist. She was so soft. Moving further down he gets handfuls of her ass, lifting her slightly which makes her let out another soft laugh into his mouth that he eagerly eats from her. The hard bars of her nipple piercings pressed through a thin bra up against his chest, just barely visible under the skin smoothing fabric.

“So have I.” she says, pulling away, hands to his cheeks now as she gives him one adoring look that makes him want her on more than a sexual level. How long had it been since a woman look at him like that? And a sober woman, with more than just a quick fuck on her mind. There would be nothing quick about his plans for her if he could help it. He wanted time with her, more and more the more he got. Any question he’d had about how the night would end was certainly answered for him now.

-------

Their hands gave away their want first. Walking her everywhere with one secure to her back as he moved, making sure no one nudged her or got in her way as they walked down the busy street and into the just as full restaurant. With a leather jacket over her dress, she still looked like she belonged in the most upscale place he’d possibly ever been. They were more than a few pay raises over the usual crowd from The Trading Post and she looked much more at ease than he did.

Bella had been in these sorts of places before. She certainly didn’t prefer them to places like Declan’s, but being best friends with a woman who married a businessman who was given a high position in one of the huge, mirrored window buildings that dotted the city skyline because of who his father was meant mixers, business parties and her and her new fancy friends wanting to sip skinny girl cosmo’s and talk about how hard it was to get their children into the best pre-school. Bella had nothing to really lend to these conversations. She’d gone to public school, so had her parents, and if she ever had a kid, it would go to public school as well. She wasn’t bred well, the daughter of an Irish hippie and a blue-collar Italian and had no illusions of being more. But despite the bad vibes from the picture-perfect women she had to stand with and nod politely for Charlotte’s sake, the buildings and food themselves were never that bad. So with the current company, someone else willing to slum it like she was, she wasn’t worried in the slightest about anyone else and what they thought in that bougie restaurant.

Declan for all his goofiness, was thorough when he wanted to be. Reserving a small U shaped booth near the back for some privacy and coziness, too close to the kitchen for most of the clientele she imagines. There was none of his usual almost clumsily loose body movements tonight, no big eye wrinkling grins, just a controlled and intense version of the sometimes puppy-like man she’d grown so fond of. She was unknowingly getting a glimpse at Black Wolf, the behavior that gave him the nickname. She watched him situate after settling her in, low brow over dark and questioning eyes, surveying the space.

“You didn’t have to bring me to a place like this you know.” she says with a soft and sweet tone, speaking low as he scooted right next to her, his arm around her and stretched across the back of the booth, taking up space and looking predatory.

“I know I didn’t have to.” his smile read more in his eyes than anything else now. His voice low and smooth and making the corners of her mouth slowly rise to give subtle approval to his words. “But I wanted to.” he leans in and nods.

“It’s really nice. Thank you.” she says with a polite bow of her head before crossing her legs towards him and patting his thigh. “Have you been here before?” she asks, looking over the market price only menu after sliding her jacket off, and of course, him lending assistance. With her highlighted shoulders now on display, his hand moves down to rest on her upper arms that were so close to showing definition she’d been momentarily angry they didn’t lean out before the date. But as his thumb swept across her buttery skin, slow drags of callouses from work, it was far from her mind.

“Nope.” the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he leans in close to read with her as she brings the menu between them.

“Me either.” she admits. “Places like this but not here.”

“Doesn’t seem like your kind of haunt.”

“It’s not. I’ve gone with Charlotte and her fancy ass friends.” she dismisses with a shake of her head. “I bet the meat here is amazing.” she says quietly, looking for him to add on his interests but he’s distracted by the fluff of her curls against his nose as he smells that intoxicating blend of deep patchouli and warm, sweet vanilla that he’d never smelled anywhere but on her.

He grunts and she looks up to him with curious eyes. “You smell amazing, babe.” he admits with a deep coo that forces a wider smile across her face, her bold red lips looking even more inviting to him set in the welcoming pose.

She leans in closer to his chest, giving a strong inhale that makes him chuckle, seeing the expanse of his chest jiggle slightly with the massive pecs she wanted to bury her face in. “You smell absolutely edible.” she adds with an amused hunch of her shoulders.

“I’m not sure if that’s the case.” he grins, a softer face pulling through.

She narrows her eyes playfull, chomping her teeth at him in an audible snap that makes his more goofy grin appear. “Don’t tell me what to do.” she retorts with a flip of her hair and turning back to the menu.

He laughs a chest rumbling and moving sound that made her ego inflate. He leans in and kisses her temple, a reward for reminding him why he’d pursued her in the first place. “Not one for being bossed around, huh?” he asks almost innocently. The back of his mind couldn’t help but wonder if her preferences carried over into the bedroom.

“I mean..” she shrugs and smirks, snuggling up closer to him. “For the right man who knows what I’d be into.” she doesn’t meet his eyes but the smirk on her painted lips is enough to make him let out a low growling laugh and give her a good squeeze, another kiss to the head.

“I think I might want to try giving you some orders sometime.” he says into her ear with a clearly intentioned voice that does its job.

Her skin blooms with goosebumps and she hums happily, moving her face to his. “Oh you’re welcome to try anything, Declan.” she purrs and kisses him softly with a wrinkle of her nose.

“Then I will,” he says grazing his nose to hers. “Later.” he says with more authority in his voice as they share another tender kiss.

They order, and they don’t hold back, as per his instructions. Their bodies couldn’t have been closer, a large hand rested on her bare knee, slowly running down her legs and back up again with fingertips teasing the hem of her dress as he spoke. She kept touching his tender jaw, soft and lingering chaste kisses when she couldn’t stand it any longer. Her hands for the most part behaving, but sinking into his collar to his neck, playing with the chest hair with the revealing unbuttoned top of his shirt. She played with his rings and hands while he told stories, but still listening. He would brush her hair back, lean in so close she could feel his breath on her neck and ears before he spoke. There was spoken and unspoken tension that they both knew was building to a peak.

They both get the best steak, a bottle of wine and a dessert to share. Picking the messiest on purpose, Bella demands only one spoon, and let’s playtime continue. She feeds him tiny macarons with her precise fingers. Both taking turns, deciding on which sweet to try next. The underlying lust between them fueled everything they did with all the flirting and wine between them. Her full lips puckered against his large fingertips while he paused and let her playfully bite them as he hand-fed her. He kissed and licked away rouge splashes of cream and chocolate, taking it from her lips with a slow passing of his thumb to suck it into his own mouth. She was utterly mesmerized. On the last bites, taking her finger and wiping the fruit purée from the plate she sucks on her fingers, looking into his eyes, being bold and humming with sexual energy. He couldn’t help but feel and be charged by it.

“Lemme try some baby.” He speaks so low and deep she feels her body thrum like a guitar string deep between her legs when he spoke like that to her.

She repeats the action and he takes her finger into his mouth, and she’s worried her legs would no longer work when he tried to stand. That and her panties were definitely ruined by the forward action. Her lashes flutter and her cheeks flush, licking her lips as he grins seeing her face be so transparent. She takes a deep breath and a tiny little noise escapes her.

“What is it babe? You like that or something?” He teases, nose on her hair and words traveling directly from his lips to her ears. Every time he’d call her some sweet pet name her insides quivered. A gentle affection with intentions that were anything but.

She gathers herself before speaking, moving her face back to his, forcing eye contact to prove he hadn’t won yet. “It makes me wish the ride back home was a whole hell of a lot shorter.” Her lips and taut and speak with articulation, tongue flicking for dramatic effect and it all worked seamlessly. “I wanna take you home, Declan.” She coos, fluttering her lashes and rubbing her fingers down his neck. “Let me show you what I like.” She adds before pressing another kiss to his lips.

“There is nothing else I’m more interested in doing, sweetheart.”

——————-

They were like two hormonal teens in the back seat of that cab in the dark. Cozied up close and every touch feeling electric and sending signals to every amorous part of their brain and thus, body. Flirtatious giggles and their quietening with kisses turns hot quickly. Her hand on his neck and jaw, his rubbing up the outside of her thigh up to the swell of her hip, dragging the hem of her dress higher. If they weren’t kissing their faces stayed close with sweet whispers and affectionate nuzzles the whole ride home. The well-lit city fades to more spaced street lamps of residential areas and before they knew it they were back at Bella’s and both covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Thanks. And some extra for having to deal with us.” He chuckles and gives a nod to the driver. “Kept it strictly PG-13 don’t worry.” He grins and joins her in readjusting their clothes as they stand on the curb for a moment.

“C’mon handsome.” She says with a smile that was more happy than sexual, taking his hand and walking up to her door.

He puts his hands on her hips as she finds her keys in her purse and kisses the rounds of her shoulders. She was finding it very hard to concentrate. With hands almost Misbehaving and roaming up to just under her bra, they felt like they could wrap around her entire torso they were so big. Although that was far from factual, the fact that he was making her feel like something dainty that could be taken and overpowered had her nipples standing at full, sensitive attention from thought alone.

“Movin’ a little slow there baby.” He grins against the bend of her neck, lips hovering by her ear.

“You’re doing a very good job of distracting me.” She huffs out a laugh and finally gets the keys in and the door open. He hangs her coat first, then his as she enters the security codes. Lazily tossing her purse onto the small bench by the standing lamp in the hallway that went straight from the front door to the kitchen, it gives the perfect amount of ambient light to the living room. It illuminates the warm-toned, retro and southwestern style room just enough to be alluring but not be clumsy.

After the chain leaves her hands from her bag, his are back on her. Snaking around to her lower back and into her hair at the nape of her neck which gave her a thrill all the way down into her stomach. He meets her eyes, her face lit by the lamp but his shadowed, he looks over her expectant expression of slightly parted lips and doting eyes.

“Would you think less of me if I told you I was tired of taking it slow? ” She unexpectedly whispers as his thumb traces her bottom lip, getting an intimate look at her up close.

His eyes threaten to roll back in his head at her words, he could feel his pulse in his throat and lets out a low masculine grunt at her confession. He takes her face into both of his, entirely encapsulating it in his grasp. “I don’t intend on rushing with you baby. But I promise I won’t make you wait too long.” He promises in a rasping whisper before joining their mouths.

The kiss slips over chest and light, her arms around his neck, pulling him close as his hands control her body, moving it back towards the living room couch. With deep, probing turns that had their tongues wrapped around each other, escaping their mouths as one would have to stop to pant or moan. Their eyes are rolled back behind their lids, their hands desperate and now free to roam as they pleased. Hers sank into that glorious mane of his, the almost black roots like her hair color fading lighter from his time in the sun as they traveled down to his collar bones. Her fists balled into it, and with the feeling of finally giving in to something he’d wanted to do for longer than she liked to admit, she moans as she gives herself over to the pleasure of it.

Showing her impatience she pulls him to the couch, one finger into his belt loop to tug him her way, and it didn’t take any more than that to have him follow her. With a strong hand moving self assuredly down her backside to her thigh, hiking her leg up and causing her dress to shimmy up in the process, he grabbed her tightly and with his strong arms and long legs he lowered her onto the couch on her back.

Him not even making it to the bedroom wasn’t lost on her. She said she didn’t want to wait and he wasn’t going to make her. Her muscular thighs latch ahold of him, small desperate noises escaping her as his hands finally grabbed her with purpose like she’d been daydreaming about. With a growl and a firm hand to her ass, his kisses start to travel and she sighs out helplessly against him. Buried in her neck she feels the suck and bite of him against her, shutting her eyes and fully indulging in it, her back arching off the plush couch involuntarily.

Her hands move between them to reach down and run her hand over his growing length, biting her lip and snarling at the hardness she finds there pinned against her.

In response, he bites the fullness of her breast over her dress and makes her let out a breathy chuckle. He kisses his way across her bare skin, nipping at her piercings that were now pushed prominently against the strained fabric. “Ugh, these are so fuckin sexy baby.” He noses against the bump of bar. “These, the tattoos...so fuckin’ sexy.” He groans and takes a big mouthful into his mouth.

“I like yours too ba- Oh!” She squeaks as his phone starts to vibrate against her in his pocket. With a shared laugh, he takes it out and silences it, putting it on the coffee table and moving back to kissing her. “Thought you’d bought some toys to the party.” She giggles as he kisses her cheeks and the sides of her mouth while she nuzzles against him. “Although I’m certain you won’t need them.” She purrs and reaches down to grab him gently, fingertips tapping and dragging over him sensitive length.

He grunts and starts in on her jaw, a muffled “Nuh uh.” A shake of his head against her, working back down to her chest again. His hand had worked its way under her dress, which was now around her waist revealing the black and mesh thong that makes him drag his tongue across the swells of her breasts to her mouth again. “Fuck Bella.” He exhales softly, looking down at her soft and thick thighs. A perfectly framed, chubby mound grabs his attention, proving every bit of her was soft, so he does the same to it. His hand cupping over her entirely, fingers feeling between her thighs and finding her already wet through her panties, cueing another deep, drawn-out “Fuuuuck.” as he rubs over her, propped up on one arm and sucking away at her neck as she lets him explore her body.

His phone buzzes again, the call goes unanswered and barely noticed with their noisy kisses and moans, her unbuttoning his shirt and him pulling the front of her dress down. Her hands are working on his belt, fumbling with the buttons. as he broadly licks over the mesh cups on her bra. They were in their own little bubble again, hands harsh and needy, kisses hard and biting. And his phone buzzes a third time.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who wants a piece of you tonight.” She jokes, kissing his ears, voice extra breathy in his ear as she takes his earlobe into her mouth.

“Well fuck ‘em.” He mumbles and she exhales an amused sound into his ear before taking a nibble. He retakes her mouth with his into a messy kiss with a hard grip to her thigh and she hums contently in his embrace. He shifts, hard cock herring against her middle with pants undone, her with her dress around her waist and his weight grinding into her making her swear and bury her hands in his hair again with a tight grip. But then the phone rings again.

With a pause from them both, Declan lets out a rugged sigh.

“Go ahead.” She says sweetly, understanding the cause for stopping for a moment.

“Shit.” He groans, running his hand through his hair. “It’s Mike.” He knew Mike wouldn’t interrupt him on this night, of all nights for no reason. “Baby I’m afraid I need to-“

“Take it babe.” She insists with a shake of her head, snuggling into the couch and her hands going back to roaming over him. A sneaking under the band of his boxers over his muscular ass, a hand running over his chest and into his hair where she began kissing as he spoke.

“Mike you better be dead you asshole to be calling me.” He growls out, face stern and intense as he stares into the darkness of the room to concentrate.

Bella continues on under him, rubbing her hips against his, palming him over his tight and now wet boxers with a serene face and bitten lip. The usual questions follow, who, why, when. But she knows the gig is up when he lets out a loud and annoyed sigh and buried his face in her chest, hair covering his face. “Fuck you man, yeah.” He forces out angrily. “Shut up I’ll be there.” He says hanging up on him and putting the phone back on the table. He sighs and touches her cheek, hips subtly moving with her still moving against him.

“You have to go don’t you?” She whispers as he runs his thumb across her lips.

“Yeah, baby I’m-fuck I don’t want to.” He lets out a frustrated laugh. “Some asshole is fucking up the bar and asking for me.”

“Your reputation precedes you.” She grins and gives him a soft and slow kiss they both allow themselves to get lost in for a minute.

“I hate this shit. I try to stay out of this bullshit and-“ She pulls his face down into a hard kiss and he moans into it.

“I get it. I fucking hate it but I get it. When you’re the boss these things happen. I know.” She says with a graze of her nose to his.

“You’re too good to me baby girl.” He says with a disheartened sigh and another lippy kiss with her center throbbing at the pet name. He pulls back and she watches him move, making no move herself to hide or change position, her hand only trailing between her legs to find the, even impressive to her, wetness that had seeped through the panties.

“You’ll be good to me later.” She winks and sticks out her tongue. He looked her over, biting his lip and latched his pants back up.

“I’ll be the best to you later baby. I swear.” He says leaning over and taking her foot and kissing her ankle, then her calf, leaning in for another kiss to the lips. “God damn it’s hard to leave you looking like this.”

“You left me plenty wet for me to have some fun without you. I won’t be happy but I’ll live. I’ll be pretending it’s you anyway. Will you think of me later baby?” She playfully licks his lips as he raises again to separate himself, finding it hard enough watching her with her tits almost out, dress pulled away, her red nails rubbing circles over her panties, sinking into the glistening wet and softness.

“Every fucking minute until we’re back like this.” He groans.

“You go take care of business, boss.” She orders with pouty lips and a deeper turn of voice. “You ring him up by his fuckin neck for me baby.” She smiles wickedly and he takes a deep breath and exhales towards the ceiling.

“Fuck you are….well you might just be fucking perfect. Fuck.” He groans and mumbles.

“You’ll find out soon.” She whispers, hand disappearing down her panties.

“Fuck yes I will.” He says stalking with a still hard cock straining against his pants. “And I’m sorry baby, I couldn’t be more sorry.” He says with his hand on the doorknob.

“I know big guy.” She grins and moans. “You know where to find me.” She giggles, running a hand through her hair.

“Night baby.”

“Night.”

—————-

The number of people outside the bar told him something was wrong. Normally, when someone was raising hell no one would look twice, it happened, it was a bar. But as he stepped out of the cab, his impressive stature primed and ready for a fight, the men parted to let him through, their rubbernecking ceasing for a moment. He slung the door open with a loud and carnal growl, it slamming against the rubber stopper and bouncing, taking the attention of the man causing the trouble. He knew him or knew his brother anyway. Another abusive piece of shit he’d beaten up months ago because he’d hit one of his friends in front of her kid. Declan didn’t stand for that shit. He’d gone to jail recently, and he’s guessing this poor drunk bastard was acting out and looking for someone to blame. Well, he’d found him.

“There’s the mother fucker!” the guy drunkenly yells.

Once Declan sees who it is, no longer worried about a fight, he looks around to the damage done. Mike wasn’t joking. An end of the bar was still on fire, taps searing red hot and all the stools broken, a few booths had been knifed and gutted, a neon sign smashed, it was enough to make Declan want to wreck the guy, but he’d already fucked with him on the wrong night.

Throwing his jacket off he charges like a bull to the guy, ignoring the knife in his hand and putting one hand around his neck, and picking him up off her feet and slamming him into a wall. Hard. The other hand takes the knife while the guy was caught off guard and pushes it into his cheek, enough to let him know he was serious.

“You picked the wrong night to come fuck with me you little shit.” he barks in his face, spit flying as he growled from his gut, all his frustration into the guys face.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ keeeeel you, you mother fuck-” he begins but Declan squeezes his throat and he chokes, knocking his head against the wall again.

“You think you are? You stupid piece of shit?” he takes him and throws him into a table, stalking over him, leaning and looking while he struggled. “Is this what you wanted? Me to kick your fucking ass, huh?” he shouts, kicking him lightly with his boot. “Because I could fucking KEEEL you for coming in here. Fucking with MY shit. Ruining MY night with my girl? Fuck you!” he yells, giving him a kick to the ribs.

“Declan. Slow down.” Mike warms while trying to put out the fire.

“So I beat the shit out your brother? So what? He’s trash just like you. You wanna send the rest of the family down? I’ll kick their asses too.” he growls and stands over him now holding him by the shirt.

“HE went to jail because of you!” he drunkenly slurs.

“No. He went to jail because he’s a fuckin’ idiot who can’t keep his god damn mouth shut. Must run in the family huh?” he snarks, slapping the guy across the face.

“If you hadn’t-”

“If I hadn’t he would’ve kept beating Sasha and that kid would’ve seen it and had to live with that. You might not care, but I do. And your brother deserves whatever he gets, same as you. Now c’mere.” he yanks him up, the guy's feet not even on the ground as he holds him to his face. “Now you can get the fuck out of here, or I can put your name on the fuck ton of paperwork this is gonna take to get the damage your little fuckin tantrum has caused and your ass will have to pay for it. And we’ll have to go to court, and you’ll have to pay for that and get a lawyer. So what’s it gonna be? You get the fuck out and stay the fuck away from me and mine? Or do I need to make you disappear?” he threatens with a low threat. He knew he could if he wanted. He’d done it before, he’d, unfortunately, have to do it again, he was sure.

“I’ll go-fuck-Jesus.” he sputters out of a bloody mouth.

Declan carries him like a battering ram and throws him onto the sidewalk. “You gonna come for me you best not miss mother fucker.” he says giving him one last kick to the ass and knocking him down again.

Declan whips back his hair, running a hand through it and letting out a sound of frustration, blood pumping fast and fingers tingling with anger.

“Get back in boys, before you start calling attention to us.” he calls out, stomping back inside. He slams his hand down on the non-burnt end of the bar. “Give me a fucking drink!” he shouts and Mike obeys, handing him an entire bottle of whiskey. He takes large gulps and closes it back. “God damnit.” he growls again, still angry, the burn in his throat fitting for how he felt.

“Yeah this is-”

“A fucking mess.” he says with his eyes shut. “And a week before the fucking show.”

“And on date night.” Mike mumble which he was the sorriest for. “Didn’t mean to interrupt ya mate.” His eyes lowered he throws a hand towel to Declan who is covered in smudges of red lipstick.

“YEAH! THAT TOO!” he yells and groans. “What?” He wrinkles his nose at the offering.

“Ya got a bit a-“ Mike motions to Declan’s neck as he turns to see the polka-dotted lip prints across his skin.

“Fuck.” he roars out in frustration, thinking about having to leave in the middle of the act of those prints being left. “Fuckin’ bullshit. Stupid mother fuckers. Goddamned idiot-” he mumbles walking into the back to get the folder for the insurance information.

Mike sighs and purses his lips. There wasn’t any way he could turn this to make it better. So he just let Declan boil until it all evaporated and went down to a simmer. Because a furious Declan wasn’t something you wanted to be in the sights of. Even if he wasn’t coming for you.

-----

Bella, not having heard from Declan becomes slightly worried amid her horniness. She takes pictures of herself, dimly lit room and not a stitch on.

When a lackluster response of “You’re killing me baby.” With radio silence afterward she goes to sleep mildly concerned.

A call to the bar just rang unanswered, and she didn’t have Mike’s number so she does the next sensible thing and goes to the bar after work.

She stands in the doorway with wide eyes. Men with clipboards and hard hats carrying out chunks of the bar and booths, and little Mike sweeping and looking rather forlorn.

“What the fuck happened?” she says with a frowning face as she steps aside for a man to get through the door.

“Oh hell, Hi Bella.” Mike says with a sympathetic looking nod. “The reason I had to call and interrupt last night happened. Sorry ‘bout that by the way.” he shrugs.

“Looks like you had a good reason.” she says with a hand running through her hair.

An exhausted looking Declan comes out the back room, hair tied back and in worn and dirty jeans and t-shirt. “Oh fuck.” he sighs out and rubs his face. “I still hadn’t called you back. Shit.” he groans and walks towards her, reaching out and giving her a hug. “I’m gross but-”

“Shut up. Are you okay?” she asks, patting him down with her hands and then holding his face.

“I’m fine.” he dismisses her worry. “But the bar…” he sighs.

“Yeah. Fuck dude.” she answers, still looking him over, putting loose strands behind his ears as she looks around the bar. “You sure you’re okay? No offense but you look rough.” she says with a kind, soft laugh, her thumbs rubbing over his cheeks as the softness makes the tension in his neck ease.

His shoulders slump and he finally focuses on her and her worried expression. “C’mere.” he says, taking her hand and leading her into the back, behind a door that led to a flight of stairs and a door with lots of stickers and banners on it.

“What’s?” she asks before he opens it, revealing a studio apartment. “Whaaa?” she says surprised.

“You didn’t know?” he chuckles, shutting the door and moving to wrap his arms around her.

“No I didn’t know this was here.” she laughs, feeling a bit dumb. “I didn’t wanna be nosey.” she shrugs.

“Well this is my apartment.” he says with a nonchalant shrug. The space wasn’t huge, but not small, all exposed brick and wood and industrial looking. It felt old, the wood worn and haggard, two walls to block off a bedroom, a bar for seating in the kitchen, a bathroom tucked away in the corner. It felt very him to be so bare bones.

“I like it. Very... rustic.” she says before he takes her face and kisses her. “Mmph. Oh okay.” she mutters into it and giggles, moving to wrap her arms around him and kiss him back. After a few rounds that were for comfort more than anything he parts, his forehead to hers.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t call you back.”

“Well, you’ve clearly been busy.” she says supportively.

“So fucking busy. No excuse. I’m sorry, okay?” he insists and she kisses him softly.

“Forgiven.” she says with a smile, reaching to give him a hug. “Don’t worry about me. You’ve got enough on your plate.” she insists, rubbing his back. How had he gone without this sort of comfort for so long? He grunts into it and she smiles, nuzzling into his hair and kissing his head. “You’re exhausted. Have you slept?” she pulls away and strokes his face.

“Not really.”

“That’s what I thought.” she nods. “Can I help?”

“You are helping.” he sighs out.

“Good.” she smiles and kisses his temples. They stay like that for a moment, her rubbing on him, easing the pain in his joints and muscles with the moment of recharge she was giving him. “Shit. What about the-?” she blurts out.

“Show. I know.” he shakes his head and groans. “I got the paperwork started last night for the insurance, then called these guys first thing this morning. We’ve been surveying and taking pictures and all that shit all day, so we’re getting out all the damaged stuff now. Insurance will be here in a few days, so that’s good. But the taps are destroyed, so’s the register and some of the stock. I can replace the booths and stools and shit no problem but the other things take time.”

“Do I need to cancel my stuff then?” referring to the walkthroughs she had scheduled for later in the week to set up the sound and lights.

“Nah. It should be fine. I’m helping the guys out, I’m a workhorse. We can drive out and get some shit from the supplier ourselves, it’ll be faster. I think we can manage.”

“You’re gonna be exhausted.” she responds with a pout of her lips, already seeing it on his face.

“Yeah but...gotta be done.”

“I can reschedule.” she insists.

“No, no. You’ve worked hard on it. I’m not gonna start this off with backing out. Don’t wanna jinx it like that.”

“It’s your call, babe.” she says with a supportive, soft smile.

“And it’s still on. It’ll be a shit week but by the end, it should be worth it. And if this works out then that money will be much needed to cover everything until the insurance comes through.”

“What’re you gonna do about the taps and everything? The POS?”

“A register is easy. The taps harder but doable.” he shrugs.

“Well, you could take this opportunity to upgrade a few things?” she says cautiously, not wanting to offend. “It’d cost more and I don’t wanna be nosey about your finances but a few upgrades could really give you an edge.” she offers with a face that was hesitant but honest.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean get some taps installed, some temperature regulated ones, keeps the head just right. A one-touch POS that you could program everything into, wouldn’t have to remember prices. WOuld really help with the temps. You get a report at the end of every day, you can manage everything from a computer. If you get volume in here it’ll really help you out. And if I have anything to do with it, you will.” she nudges her nose to his and he smiles down at her.

“You’re brilliant but I have no clue how to even go about that.” he chuckles in self-defeat.

“Lucky for you, you know a girl who does.” she beamed at him.

“I am lucky. You know that?” he hums and leans in and kisses her.

“Stop being so sweet I don’t know how to act.” she lets out a laugh that shook her shoulders.

“Get used to it.” he huffs out and kisses her again, squeezing her around the ribs. “How about you come down and talk to the guys? Before they tear too much up.” he grins.

“No problem.” she says cheerfully. “I’ll text my bar guys for prices and time frames and all that.” she says getting out her phone.

“Bar guys?” he says with a playfully territorial smirk.

“Oh yeah, I just collect you all. Didn’t you know?” she laughs.

“I did not!”

“They’re owners from when I used to travel and do shows and stuff. Some have done well for themselves over the years. I helped them with the manual labor to get some air time in the beginning.”

“After all this is over I’ve got some manual labor I’ll be needing you to do.” he gives her a goofy grin and she lets out that giggle he loves as he bites on her neck and growls, a handful of her ass in her tight jeans, the rough turning quickly to loud smooches to show his gratitude for her.

“I’d say so. You’ll owe me BIG time big boy.” she boops his nose and he smiles like a dope. “I’ll take my payment in installments over a long period of time if you don’t mind.” she snorts and his eyes turn to hearts as she lets herself go around him, her jokes being a way for her to be sweet without the vulnerability.

“No lump sum for you.” he shakes his head. “How long of a payment plan we talkin’?” he asks with a kiss to her cheek.

“I don’t know…” she pouts her lips in thought dramatically. “Depends on you doesn’t it?” she sass’s back.

“I have excellent credit I’ll have you know.” he retorts and she laughs and puts her head into his chest.

“I thought we were talking about something else entirely. Unless excellent credit is what you call your dick.” she holds in a laugh with a wrinkle of her nose, her front teeth showing as she hunches her shoulders.

“Nah that’s old faithful.”

“Also a good indicator of regularly scheduled payments being made!” she says with a beaming smile and a tilt of her head.

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous.” he lets out a rolling laugh and gives her a good solid squeeze and kiss while they grin against each other. “C’mon. Work first. Then play.”

“Agreed.” she chirps and pulls him in for one last kiss before they return back to the world of professionalism.

Please leave a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed this! It makes me want to write more of what you want if you let me know!

@vale0413 @littledeadgirlwalking@jaegeeeeer @phillipkopusimagines-and-stuff @mjolnir96 @xmother-mortemx @this-isnt-madness @thors-hair-extensions @divadinag

#Declan Harp #declan harp x reader #declan harp fanfic #declan harp fic #declan harp fan fiction #declan harp frontier #jason momoa #frontier au #modern declan harp #modern frontier #declan harp au #declan harp x ofc #frontier fic #frontier fanfic #jason momoa frontier #frontier fandom #frontier fan fiction #frontier fan fic

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captain-zajjy · 8 years ago

Text

Solstice, Chapter 16 - A Final Fantasy XV Story

Pairing: Ignis x Female Original Character

AO3 | Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I do! (◠‿◠)

The building where Valeria was hidden might have been a tourist trap once, tucked away at a rest stop on a narrow stretch of highway, with cheap knickknacks still adorning the shelves. Anything edible was long gone, as were the proprietors. Now, she sat on the grimy tile floor with knees pulled to her chest, trying to stifle the endless groaning of her empty stomach, watching a roomful of strangers doing much the same.

She didn’t know these people, only happened upon them when she had fled down the road, and she didn’t want to know them either. Since the darkness fell, she’d only encountered two types of people - those who were cruel, and those who were bound to end up dead. And since this group had let her in without question and allowed her to share what remained of their light without demanding anything in return, she had a feeling they were the latter.

The electric lantern that lit the space and kept them safe from the monsters outside flickered and dimmed.

“Not long now,” an older man said wearily, tapping on the bulb.

Gods. Valeria hated the sound of resignation in his voice. If she’d had the energy, if it wouldn’t have attracted every daemon in the vicinity, she would have shaken him and screamed at him not to give up. So many people were dead; it wasn’t fair to them to just give yourself over to the darkness.

And she didn’t want to die. She was as sure of that now as she was on the night when she’d fled from the Magitek soldiers that shot her mother. But this….this wasn’t living. Still, she had little choice until the sun returned.

She’d come upon a well-provisioned camp set up at one of the Havens, but the man in charge had stared at her hungrily and made some sort of vaguely disgusting insinuation about ‘earning her keep,’ so Valeria had moved on despite her starvation and exhaustion. Dignity was the only thing she had left, and at least out in the wild, the monsters looked like what they were, and didn’t bear welcoming smiles and open arms.

Outside the window of the shop, she could just make out a forest in the distance, the daemons flitting and cavorting back and forth through bare branches. Did they know there were people nearby, and were just waiting for the light to go out, for their chance to strike? Now that she’d really seen them, seen what daemons could do, the ways they could kill a man, she finally understood why King Regis had erected the Wall and gone to such great lengths to keep the Crown City sequestered from the outside world. What she would give to go back to that life of sheltered, blissful ignorance…

Valeria shook her head. There was no going back. And the only way to go forward was to survive. She took her phone from her backpack and held down the power button - she’d kept it turned off since her last opportunity to charge it, hours or days or weeks ago. Without the sun to mark the progression of time, she had no idea how long it’d been since she escaped from Insomnia, how long she’d been sitting in this abandoned shop.

The screen lit up, illuminating the dirty, somber faces of the strangers sat all around her. With the lantern dying, it might be their last line of defense against the darkness. As she looked around the room, surveying her companions, the device suddenly beeped and vibrated in her hand, nearly causing her to jump out of her own skin.

It was a message from Ignis. She didn’t know when he’d originally sent it, but there it was, there he was, when she was at her lowest, like her knight on a golden chocobo.

Come to Lestallum.

A week after Prompto had helped him send his message, Ignis’s phone rang.

“Ignis?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded small, uncertain. It was the loveliest sound he’d heard in a long while.

“Val!” Ignis exhaled and leaned against the nearest wall to steady his suddenly shaking knees.

“I got your message, Iggy. I’m here. Outside Lestallum.”

“You…Truly?” He needed to hear her say it again, to confirm this wasn’t some cruel dream.

“Truly.” Oh, thank the Six. “I don’t know if I can get in, Iggy. They’re turning people away.”

Ignis shook his head. “They won’t refuse a Lucian citizen. You have your ID, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Good,” Ignis replied, already throwing on his jacket. “I’m on my way. I’ll meet you inside the gate.”

He fumbled for his cane by the door, heart pounding, fingers trembling, and for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t out of fear or anger or frustration. He was excited. There was trepidation there in the back of his mind as well - what would she think of his scars? Of the reality that he couldn’t see? - but all that pesky self-doubt could wait until he’d found her again, confirmed that she was safe and unharmed by his side.

Pull yourself together, Specs, he chided himself as he made his way down the rickety stairs of his apartment building. Even with the guards turning people away to the refugee camps just outside of town, the city was still crammed with survivors of the Darkness, well beyond any sort of proper capacity. Navigating the throng was a challenge for anyone; for a blind man it was a downright trial. Counting steps was pointless when you couldn’t even take a full stride.

Ignis pushed all thought from his mind and focused on the sounds and smells, the feeling of the ground underfoot. He quickly filtered out the distractions and concentrated on the landmarks: the salty, slightly charred scent of the tent that sold mystery meat at the end of the block; the raised seam in the pavement where they’d repaired the sidewalk that marked the end of the market district; and the increasingly loud hum of the massive lights that ringed the perimeter of the city to keep the daemons at bay. Under better circumstances, with his sight, it should have taken him no longer than twenty minutes to reach the gates; as it was, and as he was, it took more than an hour.

He found himself being shuffled along by a harried guardsman into a throng of people apparently just like himself, waiting for friends and family on other side of the gate. Initially Lestallum had welcomed people of any nationality, but as the city became increasingly crowded, as it became more and more obvious that daylight might never return, the city began denying foreigners entry - starting with Imperials.

Conversations melded together, but he could hear more than one person around him shouting or pleading with the guards. How many families would never reunite thanks to the Chancellor’s treachery? Ignis certainly had no love for the Empire, but most of its citizens were utterly ordinary people, just like Iris or Talcott or Valeria, who had nothing to do with the attacks on Insomnia or Altissia. Even though he wanted to push his way through the crowd, evoke the name of the Crownsguard and demand Valeria be let in at once, he knew he could wait. Unlike so many of the others around him, all he had to do was be patient.

And so he was. Patience was something Ignis Scientia had been cultivating since he was eight years old. He squared his shoulders, crossed his arms in such a way that he could feel his phone the instant it vibrated in his pocket, and waited. And waited and waited. Electronic chimes announcing each hour throughout the city marked the time, along with an increasing stiffness in his legs and tiredness in his feet.

Until finally he felt it, a buzzing against his chest. It wasn’t his heart, but his phone vibrating in his jacket pocket.

“Val?” Ignis had to shout just to hear himself over the din.

“I’m here,” she shouted back.

This time, Ignis did push his way through the sea of people, mumbling his apologies as he bumped into backs and shoulders while continuing to listen to Valeria on the phone. He squashed the momentary feeling of frustration that bubbled up with the obvious thought that this would be so much easier if he could just see her in the crowd.

“Iggy!” This time he heard her in stereo - not just through the receiver of the phone, but somewhere off to his left. Ignis spun in that direction, colliding with the person standing next to him, whose curse he promptly ignored.

“Valeria!” He called out into the crowd.

“Ignis!” She called out his name over and over again as they both pushed their way through, until she was standing right in front of him.

Something dropped at his feet and then Valeria’s arms were around his neck and he was pulling her tight against him. She smelled of sweat and dust and exhaustion from the road, and he drank in every bit of it, savoring the reality of her, safe and finally here with him, at long last. And for one wonderful moment, he forgot about the daemons and the darkness and his missing King; for that one moment it was just him and her, alive and together once more.

But of course it all came back to him. Valeria was sagging against him, clearly exhausted from her journey. And he was painfully aware that he couldn’t tell whether she was smiling or perhaps simply looking sad and worn-out, as his mind desperately tried to conjure up memories of her face from their last meeting half a year ago.

They had kept their appropriate distance, not like now, her long office desk sitting like a gulf between them. And she had looked at him like she always did, playful then forlorn, a small smirk giving way to a flat-lipped expression of resolve, and beneath it all, always the air of resignation. That they were able to hold each other so close now, unabashedly and in public, was a sign of just how drastically their world had changed.

“Are you real?” she murmured into his chest, voice full of weariness and wonder.

“I’m real. I promise,” he said, squeezing her shoulders. He would hope that her dream version of him wasn’t blind. “When was the last time you slept?” He reluctantly broke the embrace to feel around for whatever she’d dropped at his feet. When he found it - a rucksack - he slung it over his shoulder, amazed at how light it was for a woman who once couldn’t even take a day trip without bringing a change of clothes.

“Um…” she paused, one hand still clutching his jacket. “I think I caught a couple hours on the back of a truck yesterday.”

Ignis clicked his tongue. “That hardly counts. Come.” He took up his cane in one hand, and held out the other toward her. “It’s not much, but I do have a bed back at my flat. And running water. It’s not hot, mind you, but it does, in fact, run. We can get you something to eat as well.”

“Thank you, Iggy.” The sound of genuine gratitude in her voice made him puff out his chest a bit as they turned to head back to his apartment, but he quickly deflated when he realized just how long it was going to take them to get back, and all because of his damned eyes.

“I’m afraid I have to take things a bit slower these days,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. Of course, she knew what had happened to him in Altissia, but hearing it over the phone was a lot different than watching him stumble around. So much for showing her you’re not useless.

“It’s alright, Ignis,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Take your time.”

“Right.”

Ignis was right; he did move a lot slower than he used to. Valeria recalled the brisk, purposeful way he used to walk around the Citadel and the Academy - confident and self-assured. Now his steps were shuffling, halted and cautious; he frequently paused to ask her to confirm landmarks for him.

Her poor Ignis. Every time they’d spoken since the attack on Altissia, he’d brusquely assured her in that very Ignis way that he was bearing up just fine. She knew him better than that.

After all, she was the same. She had assured him that she was also fine, when she didn’t know where her next meal was coming from and memories of her mother’s final moments appeared every time she closed her eyes.

Valeria had tried to mentally prepare herself for this, for the fact that he was blind - that he had been irreparably changed, but was still the same where it mattered. She had tried, and yet in those rare moments when she felt safe enough to let her mind wander, she just ended up fantasizing about how wonderful it would be to finally be back at his side. Ignis was still Ignis; the rest might be difficult or sad or awkward, but they would get through it.

As they made their ponderous way, she caught herself constantly looking over her shoulder, scanning the endless crowd for threats. “Is this city truly safe from daemons?” she asked.

“Hm?” Ignis paused. “Oh, yes. The lights keep them away.” Valeria decided not to pester him with any more questions when it was so obviously taking all of his concentration to navigate the throng.

Instead, she tried to allow that information to sink in. No daemons. Could that really be possible? The lights of Lestallum were indeed ubiquitous and bright; after living so long (had it really been that long? It felt that long) by lantern and flashlight, to be surrounded by so much brightness was disorienting. She clung to Ignis’s gloved hand like an anchor in a torrential neon sea.

Overhead, myriad signs blinked and pulsed, and like so many voices shouting all at once, the effect was chaotic and cacaphonous. It contrasted sharply with the formless crowd below, their clothing patched and faded, faces drawn and resigned. Its mass made even Insomnia’s busiest streets look orderly and spacious, but there was no energy, no zeal - just people existing, surviving another day.

After a long while, Ignis stopped, adjusting her bag on his shoulder. “Ah. Here we are. Would you like something to eat before we go upstairs?” He gestured toward a row of greasy-looking food stalls with his cane.

Valeria looked around, trying to blink away the afterimages of the lights surrounding them. Above the busy street, buildings loomed, clearly extended beyond their original capacity. Laundry fluttered listlessly on crisscrossing lines, while hollow-eyed children darted in and out of the crowd on the street. The strong smell of the food stalls could not drown out the stench of human odor, filth and sewage and rot. Valeria never would have imagined Ignis Scientia residing in a slum, but then she supposed that all of Lestallum was a slum now.

Not that she was judging him. Anything was better than hovering in an abandoned shed with a dozen strangers, crowded around a single light, praying that tonight, at least, the daemons wouldn’t come, that she wouldn’t wake to find empty clothes and pools of blood in place of her companions.

Now that the smell of cooking food filled her nose, Valeria remembered that she was starving. In fact, she couldn’t recall the last time she’d eaten a proper meal.

“I…I don’t really have any money.” Words no one had ever expected to come from Valeria Soleil’s lips.

Ignis’s mouth quirked upwards. “My treat.” He let go of her hand for a moment to fish his wallet out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Whatever you’d like.” He grabbed her elbow and allowed her to lead him to the nearest stall boasting some kind of kebab, the origin of which she decided it was perhaps better not to know.

Noting the careful way his bills were folded inside his wallet, Valeria ordered two and handed one to Ignis. Whatever the meat was, it was absolutely delicious, she thought, practically inhaling it as they moved aside to loiter in a narrow crevice between market tents. Ignis wasn’t even halfway through his first when she ordered herself a second helping. She caught him smiling as she licked the salty, savory juice from her fingers.

“Good?” he asked.

“Amazing,” Valeria said, taking his empty stick and chucking their trash into an overflowing bin. A pair of rats skittered underfoot, but she was too exhausted - and too sated with her recent meal - to be bothered.

“Thank you, Iggy.” Valeria had a feeling she was going to be saying that a lot in the coming days. “I mean it.”

“I’m just glad you’re here.” His grin widened, showing his slightly-too-large, white teeth, and, had she not been so damn tired, she thought she might have burst into tears. That smile.

For one terrible moment after the attack on Altissia, when everyone was reporting that the city was underwater, when she couldn’t get a hold of him on the phone, she thought she would never see that smile again. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see, that his scars were far worse than he’d lead her to believe - he was alive, and here, and - in spite of it all - still able to smile.

“Come,” Ignis said, taking her hand once more. He slowly led them to one of a dozen near-identical dilapidated, tall buildings, and up a dingy, narrow stairwell. More than once they had to step around a huddled figure taking refuge on the stairs, one of whom Valeria seriously questioned whether he (she?) was alive or dead.

Ignis merely sighed. “As I said, it’s not much.”

“It’s fine,” she asserted. If only you knew how I’ve been living, you’d understand just how fine it is. But she didn’t want to burden him with that, and frankly she was too tired to relive it at the moment anyway.

On the third floor, he held the door open for her, ushering her into an equally dingy, narrow hallway, the fingers of his left hand trailing the wall until he stopped in front of a door labeled 313.

“Here we are,” Ignis said as he unlocked the door, motioning for her to go inside as he followed behind her. He locked the door behind them and flicked on a single, bright overhead light.

His entire apartment (if one could really call it that) was smaller than her bedroom back in Insomnia, a squarish studio with a narrow stove and tiny refrigerator tucked in one corner, the other side partitioned off with folding screens into some semblance of a bedroom.

“The washroom’s here,” Ignis said, pointing to the only other door in the place, as he set her bag down on the worn leather sofa that broke up the two halves of the room. Despite its general sense of disrepair - faded blue paint peeling from the walls, uneven floorboards underfoot - the place was impeccably tidy and organized.

“There are fresh towels in there if you’d like a shower,” he continued, removing his jacket and hanging it on a small rack next to the door. Valeria followed suit and hung up her own coat, suddenly painfully aware of just how filthy she must be.

“I definitely would,” she said, her embarrassment giving way to anticipation. She could barely turn around in the bathroom without bumping into the sink or the toilet, but she didn’t care. She was too busy marveling at amenities she had once taken for granted: toilet paper and a commode that actually flushed, the heavenly softness and fresh scent of a clean towel; and she nearly squealed with delight when the shower turned on. It didn’t matter that the water was lukewarm at best - it felt wonderful cascading down her back and settling in her hair, soap stripping away the layers and layers of dirt and misery from the road.

Being clean felt so novel, so amazing, that she was hardly bothered by just how exhausted and worn she looked when she caught her reflection in the mirror, eyes bloodshot and ringed by circles dark as bruises, skin pallid and drawn. She almost considered not putting her dirty old clothes back on - Ignis couldn’t see her, after all, but it still felt wrong, somehow.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. “I trust it wasn’t too cold?” Ignis said from the other side.

The door was so thin she didn’t have to raise her voice to reply. “It was incredible.”

“Good. I…” she heard him clear his throat. “I have some clean clothes, if you’d prefer.”

“Oh, yes.” Again, Valeria could have opened the door and just taken the clothes from him face to face, completely naked, but her sense of propriety was too strong (and she knew his was too). She opened the door a crack and took the t-shirt and boxer shorts that were thrust through; both hung large on her, but were soft and amazingly, blessedly clean.

“The bed,” Ignis gestured toward the folding screens when she emerged from the bathroom. “Please, rest as long as you like. I have to step out later, but I’ll be back.”

Valeria nodded, then caught herself. “Okay,” she said aloud. “I expect I’ll probably sleep through it anyway.” She was eyeing the bed almost hungrily - it was only twin size, but a real bed, with a mattress and pillows and blankets, not a cot or a dirty sleeping bag huddled in a dark corner.

“Like I said,” Ignis gave her another one of his lovely smiles. “Rest as long as you like.”

Valeria laid down with a wondrous sigh. This is real, she told herself. A real bed in a real apartment, with a real friend close by. Instead of drifting off immediately, she caught her ears marking every small sound around her - Ignis shifting his weight on the sofa, a child crying somewhere beneath her, a couple arguing down the hall. It wasn’t that she was curious, but force of habit had trained her ears to catalog and note every sound, even as she was trying to sleep, to gauge the threat level of daemons or Niffs nearby. It was the reason she had survived - and, even now knowing intellectually that she was safe, it was going to be a hard habit to break.

“Iggy?” she said.

“What is it?” he called from beyond the partition.

“When you go, could you…could you leave the lights on?”

She felt infantile even asking, but there was no mocking in his voice when he replied. “Of course.”

Valeria tried to concentrate on the softness of the mattress, the warmth of the blankets, the heavenly scent of soap and detergent, willing herself to relax until sleep finally came.

#final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #ffxv #ff15 #ffxv fanfiction #ignis scientia #ignis #ignis x oc

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