#beau is pillowing her head on her hand which is resting on the table and side eyeing frumpkin

[criticallyincorrect]

Beau, side eyeing Frumpkin in the library after realizing all the responsibilities she now has: Oh to be a house cat and simply slap the shit out of anything in front of me that I don’t understand

[lumosinlove]

It’s the Olympic break and the boys are taking a little vacation. Leo gets a spicy present in the morning, and then it’s Finn’s planned Leo-day around NYC, plus a promise from Logan.

Happy 20th birthday, Knutty!

Leo was sure that he always had some sort of checklist running in his head. He liked waking up and going through the day before it happened.

Leo woke up in Finn’s childhood bedroom on his twentieth birthday. There was the smell of coffee coming from just down the hall, and New York City was getting a fine dusting of snow outside. Most of the time, Leo was the first one awake—not to mention a few times in the middle of the night. He liked laying there with his eyes closed and listening to Finn and Logan breathing. Finn had rolled away in the night, but Logan was plastered against his side, breath warm against his neck.

“You’re awake?” Leo whispered softly to him.

“Because you’re awake,” Logan replied, accent heavy with sleep.

That was another thing. Logan seemed to have a sense for Leo’s irregular sleeping habits.

“How’d you know?”

Logan pressed a gentle kiss to Leo’s neck. “How’d you know?”

That made Leo smile a little. “Your breathing.”

“Mhm,” Logan said, and hooked his thigh higher across Leo’s hips. Leo reached down to drum his fingers lightly over the muscle.

“Happy Birthday,” Logan murmured the phrase into a kiss against Leo’s mouth this time.

“Thanks,” Leo smiled.

Finn made a noise in his sleep, and Leo felt them both turn to look at his bare back, but he didn’t stir any more.

Logan sighed, pressing closer to Leo’s chest.

“Where should we go for breakfast?” Leo whispered. “I was doing some research.”

Logan’s laugh was his soft morning one. “Of course you were.”

“I’m just thinking,” Leo said. “Hey, did you see the snow outside?”

Logan’s palm had started trailing warmly down his chest about half way through Leo’s thought process, and it was resting low on his stomach now.

“Oh?” Leo asked softly, his previous next words dying in his throat at Logan’s touch.

“Settle down, Peanut,” Logan whispered into the skin. “It’s your birthday.”

Then, he was disappearing beneath the blankets.

“Lo,” Leo let his eyes slip closed, a soft smile on his face.

Logan began to kiss his thighs first, tugging Leo’s underwear off and away. Leo bent his knees to help, trying not to kick Logan where he couldn’t see. Logan just used it as an opportunity to wrap his arms around them, pulling them close around his shoulders. Leo could feel the soft tickle of his hair as Logan’s mouth trailed along. He could feel himself filling quickly and settled into it, head dropping back on the pillows. He couldn’t see Logan, and so each touch was a surprise. It amplified the feeling, the sudden jolt of Logan’s lips brushing the head of his dick, just beginning to peak out of his foreskin.

Leo could hear his own breathing getting louder, too, and looked up to make sure the door was closed. Finn’s family was out there. He reached beneath the blankets to tangle his fingers into Logan’s hair, running a thumb along his temple. He heard Logan hum at the contact, and then felt his hot tongue dip around the tip of his dick, gathering the wetness dewing there. Leo pressed his calves into Logan’s sides.

The checklist was going askew. There was just Logan, and Finn’s stirring weight beside them. Seeming to have sensed their motion, Finn turned onto his back, cracking an eye open to glance at the blankets tented by Leo’s knees, and the absence of Logan from the other pillow.

“Huh,” Finn said as he squeezed his eyes shut and stretched his entire body. Leo laughed breathlessly when he heard a few loud pops in his back. Finn blinked his eyes open when he was done and smiled, rolling onto his side towards Leo. “Nice.”

Leo just parted his lips a little for Finn’s gentle kiss.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” Finn said softly into Leo’s mouth.

“Very,” Leo sighed. “Very happy.”

“Morning, Tremblay,” Finn said, peaking beneath the blankets and laughing as he reached to run a hand through Logan’s hair. “Hi.”

Logan just kissed Finn’s palm before returning his attention to Leo.

Finn drew the blankets back, hand still in Logan’s hair, and leaned in to kiss Leo again. “I have so many plans for us today. I’m gonna take you to the best spots, you’re going to love it so much. A Knutty-curated day.”

Leo looked down to see Logan mouthing at his hip bone. “This seems like a good start, then.”

Logan’s mouth became a warm heat around him as Finn kissed him leisurely. Finn’s hand cupped where Logan couldn’t reach. Leo loved this. The weight of sleep still lingering, making everything sharper. Finn kept saying soft I love yous, which Logan echoed in low hums that made him twitch. They brought him off slow and easy, Finn kisses growing more sloppy, the way he knew Leo liked, as he arched into Logan’s mouth.

Leo smiled, breathing hard as Finn bit gently at his bottom lip.

Logan pushed his way up his chest, pressing a kiss just above his collar bone. His hair was a mess from sleeping and the static and heat that being beneath the blankets brought. His cheeks were flushed and he was hard in his underwear, like Finn.

“Happy Birthday,” Logan laughed, and kissed Leo’s cheek.

“Well, yeah,” Leo wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist. “Fuck, Lo.”

Finn ran his hand through Leo’s hair and cocked an eyebrow in question. “Anything you want.”

Leo stretched, sleepy again and sated beneath Logan’s weight. “Just let me see you two. But don’t go too far away,” He pulled them closer towards each of his sides.

Logan hummed and tucked his face up against Leo’s neck as he pushed his underwear down below his balls and took himself in hand.

Finn nudged his nose against Leo’s cheek, following Logan’s lead and pressing up all along Leo’s other side. Leo pushed Finn’s underwear aside so he could press his cock against the soft skin of Leo’s hip, Leo’s other hand combing through Logan’s hair. He smiled, eyes hooded as Logan panted into his neck. They were hot against him, their thighs brushing together, hooked across Leo’s hips.

“Love you,” Leo said, and was answered by a kiss to his neck and a nip to his jaw.

Logan spilled first, and Finn followed, tensing and his breath stuttering like it always did. Logan buried his noises in Leo’s skin.

“Fuck,” Leo breathed as he watched the white paint his skin.

Finn moaned lowly and pressed a burst off kisses to Leo’s cheek, making him smile.

“Leo,” Logan said, but it sounded like he was just sighing his name. He pushed himself up on one elbow and looked down at Leo and Finn, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Well, good morning.”

Finn threw the tissue he had used to clean them up in the direction of the garbage and laughed. “I have so much planned for today.”

Logan huffed back onto Leo’s chest. “Can we have coffee first?”

“Oh,” Finn said. “Can we ever,” and then threw himself on top of Logan, Leo laughing beneath their weight.

“You boys gonna watch USA against Canada today at three?” Haley O’Hara asked as she sipped her coffee and watched them put their coats on. “Pretty good game to have on your birthday.”

“We can’t miss Alex,” Leo said. “And Kasey, with their Olympics debuts.”

“But we have plans first,” Finn said. “We’re going to my favorite place. Which will be Leo’s favorite place.”

“Ah,” Haley smiled. “I know where that is. Have fun, Leo.”

Leo smiled. “I’m sure I will.”

“Where are we going for breakfast?” Logan asked.

“You’ll see, you’ll see,” Finn said, pulling Logan’s hat down over his eyes. “Man, you without your coffee…”

Leo laughed. “Yeah, Harz, and I thought you were bad.” He righted Logan’s hat for him, and kissed him softly.

Haley was smiling at him when he looked up. “You boys have fun. And Happy Birthday again, Leo.”

New York was cold, but Leo didn’t mind. They huddled together as they walked, Logan jokingly running every once in a while as if to keep up with Leo. Finn took them to a bakery with tall, heavy doors, but hustled them to a table without letting them look at what was offered too much.

Logan leaned back in his chair and hooked his ankles around Leo’s beneath the table while they waited.

“You’re—très beau.”

Leo rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning his chin in his hand and looking at the way Logan’s white beanie made his eyes brighter. If anyone was beautiful…

Logan mirrored his position, smile teasing. “Maybe I’ll take you to Nice this summer. No one knows us there. I’ll give you the best wine, and we can swim in the sea, and I’ll watch you read your books with our feet in the sand.”

Leo tilted his head, listening and loving.

Logan smiled, like he could tell. “And we’ll walk through all the markets…”

Leo nodded. “I want that. But not because it’s my birthday. Just because I want to be there with you.”

Logan was perfect in the snow, but Leo was dying to see him in a small, French village.

“Love you,” Logan said softly.

“Love you, sweetheart. Do you know what he’s up to?” Leo flit his eyes to Finn, who looked like he was charming the socks off of the girl and boy working the register. Something smelled incredible, like chocolate and bread.

“Not a clue,” Logan said, then laughed. “He hasn’t trusted me with secret plans since I told you I loved you first.”

Leo snorted. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”

“I do know this place, though,” Logan smiled. “And I think I can guess what he’s bringing you.”

“Oh?”

“It’s as sweet-tooth as Harz gets.”

“Here we go,” Finn said, announcing himself. He was carrying a tray with three steaming cups on it, and three frankly giant croissants. “Okay, okay, now listen up, Lovernut.”

Leo put his arm along the back of their booth, behind Finn as he sat down. It was a gesture he’d learned quickly that he could do, even in a crowded place. “I’m listening.”

“This, darling—”

“You're so dramatic,” Logan shook his head.

“—is a pretzel croissant.”

Leo tilted his head. “What makes it pretzel?”

“Now,” Finn placed it carefully in front of Leo. “Get any visions of those big vendor pretzels out of your head. This is like—God compared to those.”

Leo and Logan glanced at each other, hiding smiles. It was as if they could just trade the one, single thought they were both thinking. We love him.

“Uh-huh, Harz,” Leo laughed. “And is that hot chocolate?”

“This is the thickest chocolate you’re ever going to have, and floating inside,” Finn slid the large cup beside the croissant. “You will find the worlds largest homemade marshmallow.”

“Why does it sound like you’re selling a car?” Logan laughed.

“It needs a speech,” Finn smiled. His cheeks were still red from the cold. “All right, most important part.”

It did smell amazing. “Yeah?”

Finn took his own croissant. “Rip,” he ripped it, “dip,” he dipped the croissant into the hot chocolate. “And…nothing rhymes, I don’t know, but it’s so good.”

Leo let his hand brush Finn’s neck as he retrieved it to take his own croissant in hand. “Lo? Is it?”

Logan, who had already torn a big piece and soaked in in chocolate, shrugged, then smiled. “Could be sweeter.”

They walked just a few blocks until Leo laughed when he recognized a large, red awning from one of Finn’s many sweatshirts.

“The Strand,” Leo smiled. “You’re always talking about this place. Aw, Harz.”

“You fucking bet I am,” Finn said. “Come on.”

They walked through the shelves slowly, starting downstairs in the fiction and history sections. Logan trailed behind, occasionally taking pictures of the two of them and smiling at his phone for a moment.

In one of the deserted, narrow rows, Finn pressed Leo carefully against a bookshelf and kissed him soundly.

“Hey, hey,” Leo heard Logan say, and pulled Leo down for one of his own.

Logan held up his phone to show a picture of Leo and Finn standing over a book with their heads tilted together. “I’m never going to be able to stop looking at this one.”

“Send it to me, Lo,” Finn said, and took the pile of books in Leo’s hands. “Come on. Let me buy you those, and then let’s go home, get warm, and watch the game. Sound okay? And I have a dinner plan for us tonight.”

Leo, honestly, felt a little choked up at just the perfect thought, and nodded quickly. “Yes. Yeah, perfect.”

The hot chocolate had good. The window shopping, too, and the books, and the pastries. But this, Finn’s chest against his back, Logan’s back against Leo’s chest while they shouted at the TV. This was all Leo wanted for his birthday.

[im-only-joking]

Do Not Disturb on the Hotel Door Part 1

This fic has been a LONNNNNGGG time coming, based off this edit that @bbbarzal made that I am in love with and have watched probably a thousand times at this point. I mean... can’t go wrong with 2 pretty best friends, right?

https://bbbarzal.tumblr.com/post/650623516756131841/introducing-two-pretty-bestfriends

Warnings: Threesome; mentions of sex in this chapter, but no actual full smut yet; not really infidelity, but like mentions of looking at someone who is not their partner; non-negotiated kinks. ummm think that’s it, but I tried to make it so that it was clear that everything was clear-headed and consensual!

Anthony Beauvillier x Mat Barzal x Reader

Mat’s birthday fell at the perfect time to also celebrate the series win against the Penguins, meaning an even larger affair, more drinks, buttons on carefully pressed shirts being undone to bare muscled chests and dresses’ hemlines were barely covering anything.

 And while your boyfriend was passed around-as the birthday boy was due to be- your eyes wandered a bit in search of conversation.

 Conversation fell into your lap happily, as a drunken Beau tipped onto the couch you were perched on.

 While you talked, you noticed your eyes lingering on his exposed chest, his soft linen green shirt bringing out the blue in his eyes, his biceps flexing the material of the rolled sleeves.

 Sydney Martin’s hand on your shoulder snapped you out of your daze and you gratefully accepted another drink from her, but nursed it slowly throughout the rest of the night. Clearly, it was just the alcohol in your veins making you think… things, about Beau. You weren’t a cheater, and you loved Mat more than anything. It was okay to look.

 He was your boyfriend’s best friend though. Looking, even innocently, at him was like high treason, right?

 You deliberated guiltily all evening over if you had been flirty in your conversation with Beau, whether you had been leading him on in any way. You reasoned that he had to know that you were tipsy and didn’t mean it because you were with Mat, but half your brain was telling you WHORE.

 “You’ve been really quiet tonight,” Mat observed, startling you out of another guilty thought-spiral.

 You teased, “I’ve just been trying to let you have your spotlight.”

 Mat chuckled, gathering you in his arms, half undressed. “Always willing to share as long as it’s with you.”

 “Cheesy,” you smiled, nose scrunching as you let him kiss your forehead.

 “Maybe.”

  As soon as you got in the door of your apartment Mat was on you, sucking marks on your neck, hands flying to grip your waist, pull you as close to him as possible.

 “You gonna be a good girl for me?” Mat rasped, playoff beard scratching against your collarbone as he bit down, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, your hands tugging his locks.

 “Daddy,” you whined, earning yourself Mat’s harsh grip on your chin.

 “Use your words, baby,” Mat ordered, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.

 “I’ll be a good girl for you Daddy,” you whimpered.

“Then you’ll need to wait, we have a guest coming.”

 Your brows gathered, confusion taking over your face, making Mat rumble out a laugh.

 “You really think I didn’t catch you looking at my best friend? If you’re so interested in him, why shouldn’t I let him have a little fun with you? Share how good my girl can be when she wants to,” Mat smirked, tucking a hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear. “You think you can be on your best behavior for him?”

 You shuddered with want, “Yes Daddy.”

 “Atta girl,” Mat murmured, his hand possessive on the back of your neck as a knock on the door startled you.

 “Why don’t you get naked and greet him,” Mat suggested, though his tone made it clear you weren’t to argue unless you were truly uncomfortable with it.

 You gulped, nodded, and stripped to your panties, which were black lace, specifically picked out by Mat for you to wear for his birthday. He nodded, ushering you towards the door as another knock on the door beckoned you towards it.

 You opened the door to see Beau as he had been dressed earlier, his blue eyes darkening as he took in your figure.

 “What a warm welcome, chérie,” Beau hummed, fingers dancing over the lace at your waistline.

 “Mat surprised me with this,” you mentioned, ducking your head a little. “I didn’t realize I’d been caught looking.”

 Beau laughed gently, rubbing circles on your hip with his thumb. “You don’t have to be shy about it. Clearly, it isn’t a big deal, and it looks like Mat isn’t going to mind if you did more than look.”

 You breathed out a giggle, hands finding Beau’s and you pulled him into the apartment to find that Mat wasn’t there.

 “He’s in the kitchen, I can hear him,” Beau nodded to the archway that led to your kitchen, where the light was, in fact, on.

 Beau sat on the couch, tugging you onto his lap with a squeal, your hands on his shoulders to stabilize you as you straddled his thighs. His hands explored your skin, running over your lace-covered breasts as you settled into his lap more, rolling your hips gently.

 “You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” Beau sniggered, hands sliding to your ass to give it a squeeze, rocking his hips up to meet yours in a dirty swivel. When you didn’t answer, one hand came up to your face to smack your cheek gently. “Mat said you were gonna be good for me. I’d like to hear an answer, doll.”

 “Sorry, sir,” you gasped, rolling your hips down hard to hear Beau groan. “I like being naughty for Mat… and you. I’d like to blow you if you’d let me.”

 Mat emerged from the kitchen then, a couple of bottles of water in hand, which he set on the table next to the couch.

 “Thought I’d let you two get comfortable. I told Beau a bit about what you like to give him some ideas, but I know you’ll ask for what you want anyway,” Mat said, hand on your neck to tilt your face up to his for a kiss. You could feel Beau’s gaze on the both of you as you let Mat claim your mouth.

 “She asked to blow me,” Beau stated, leaning back to rest against the back of the couch. Mat settled beside him, smirking.

 “Well, give us a show then, darling,” he commanded, and you slipped off Beau’s lap to get on your knees in front of him, your mouth already salivating at the thought of having him in your mouth.

  You groaned as sunlight woke you, streaming into the room through the cracks in the blinds, and you tried to sort out what was reality. What you realized was your legs and Mat’s were interlocked, your panties and even your sleep shorts were soaked through from your dream, and your hips were still rocking gently against Mat’s thigh.

 “Well, good morning,” Mat grinned, clearly having woken up before you, and amused by the situation. “Sweet dreams, I guess?”

 “Jesus,” you groaned, your head thumping back onto the pillow as you detached yourself from Mat’s leg.

 “I wasn’t complaining, rather the opposite,” Mat laughed, ruffling your bedhead. “Just curious to know what got you so in the mood so I can recreate it.”

 You froze, guilty again, as you remembered everything about the dream. “Well… it was pretty much like any of the times we get really frisky, you know. Like, you got all… commanding and sexy and stuff.”

 Mat’s brow quirked, “That normally has a pretty good effect, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up before… not from a dream, anyway.”

You bit your lip anxiously.

 Mat frowned. “Is there… a new thing you want to explore?”

 You took a breath, steadying yourself, and sat up.

 “No, not really.”

[hookingminor]

the way that you love me - anthony beauvillier

a/n: inspired by pov by ariana, a lot of it is from tito’s perspective. lightly edited. all fluff. thank you @thirteenisles​ for telling me to write for tito

word count: 2.5k

summary: anthony’s been in love with you for a long time

-

Anthony was in love with you.

He knew it from the moment he met you that he was done for. There really wasn’t anything inherently special about you, which probably wasn’t the nicest thing to say, but it was true. But when you smiled at him for the first time and extended your hand in introduction, something inside of him shifted.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible, and he didn’t even register it at first, but then he shook your hand and a calm settled over him. Anthony didn’t understand what it meant then, but he understood it now.

It was the same feeling he felt right now as he watched you sleep next to him your hair strewn across the pillow and mouth slightly agape. Soft snores escaped your lips, though you always denied it when he told you. It bothered him a bit at the beginning, the snores used to keep him awake during late nights when he had early morning practice. Now he couldn’t sleep without you, snoring and all.

You looked so peaceful lying beside him. With one hand lightly holding onto his bicep, his heart fluttered. It was something you always did when you were asleep: reach out until you grabbed some body part.

When he came home late at night from road trips across the country and settled into bed, you never failed to do the same thing. You were a notoriously heavy sleeper, but whenever Anthony slid under the sheets, you swatted in his direction until you came into contact with him. Whatever you hit, you grabbed onto before rolling over and crawling as close to him as possible.

The first time it happened, all Anthony could do was laugh. He thought you might’ve been awake and that his return woke you, but when he didn’t see your breathing change or eyes flicker open, his chest had gotten so tight he was afraid it would burst.

An overwhelming softness consumed him at that, and it hit him with full force every time it happened. It was the little things. You never realized you did it, nor did he ever tell you.

“Stop staring, weirdo,” you peeked one eye open and caught Anthony looking at you.

Anthony coughed out the stiffness in his throat before replying.

“I can’t help it,” he chuckled, hoping you couldn’t see through him and how vulnerable he was feeling right now, “You’re so beautiful in the morning.”

Whatever Anthony was afraid of you seeing, you didn’t because you rolled your eyes.

-

“Can you make me some tea, please?” You called out to your boyfriend who was rummaging through the kitchen.

“Yeah, give me a minute,” he hollered back, and you heard the coffee machine running to dispense hot water.

Anthony reached over your shoulder from behind to place the mug on the table next to your textbooks. He paused halfway through his retreat to rest his hand on your shoulder and gave you a soft kiss on top of your head.

“Baby, you have three other mugs in front of you,” Anthony said, noticing the half-filled mugs in front of you.

You shrugged, “It tastes better when you make it.”

Anthony left you to continue your studies, but your statement replayed in his mind as he went into the living room and turned on whatever game was playing at the moment. You’d said it without hesitation, and Anthony doubted you even processed what you said.

It was all he could think about.

Later that night when he went to clear the table after you’d disappeared to take a shower, he saw that the only mug that was empty was the one he’d made for you earlier.

He noticed everything after that. Every morning before you left, there was always a mug semi-filled with coffee or tea resting on the counter that you’d made before going to class. Every evening when he made you a cup of tea before bed, you drank every drop.

Intrinsically, Anthony knew he didn’t make tea any better than the next person, but it never failed to brighten his mood every time he woke up and saw the empty tea mug from the night before sitting on the nightstand.

-

Anthony knew you had your doubts sometimes. Not about him. Never about him.

But he knew you had insecurities. About your relationship, about yourself and the need you had to compare yourself to other girls, about why Anthony was even with you to begin with.

None that you ever voiced them with him, but he could tell when you began to pull away and close yourself off from him. He never understood why or what caused it, but he could always read the signs leading up to it.

Anthony also knew how to snap you out of it. The first time it happened, he feared you were going to break up with him, but now he was practically a professional.

“What are your plans for the night? Are you still going out with the guys?”

You had been unusually quiet during dinner, and now you were hand washing the dishes instead of just putting them in the dishwasher; a telltale sign you were thinking too much and needed a mundane task to clear your head.

Approaching you from behind, Anthony wrapped his arms around your abdomen and nuzzled his face into your neck.

“Actually, I was thinking we should stay in for the night,” the words sounded muffled against your skin, and the vibrations tickled, which only caused Anthony to squeeze you tighter.

“Oh?” You questioned, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips.

“Mhmm,” he hummed as he reached forward to turn off the sink, “I can’t neglect my girl right before leaving for a road trip.”

“You’re not leaving for another two days.”

“Then we’ve got less time than I thought,” Anthony said with fake realization, “Better get started now.”

You squealed in surprise as Anthony spun you around and hiked you up by your thighs. He had no care for the wet hands clutching onto his shoulders as you steadied yourself. Leaving the dirty dishes to be dealt with later, he carried you from the kitchen and into the bedroom where he spent all night showing you just how much he loved you.

-

“How’s Y/N doing?” Mat asked Anthony when they boarded the plane, “Tell her I say hi.”  He’d plopped down next to Anthony who was sending you one final text before take off, and Mat knew that love struck face anywhere. It was a face he only reserved for you, and Mat didn’t have to look at his phone to know Anthony was texting you.

“She’s doing well,” Anthony answered, firing off an ‘I love you’ before locking his phone.

“Yeah? You guys are still coming to the wedding next month, right?” Mat asked. One of their teammates was finally tying the knot, and Anthony knew Mat was only asking so he didn’t have to be the only single one there. He would still be the only single one, but Mat always inserted himself into yours and Anthony’s relationship whenever he had to third wheel.

“Yeah, we’ll be there,” Anthony replied with an eye roll as he checked his phone one last time to see you’d replied with an ‘I love you too’ before switching it to airplane mode.

“God, it’s just a matter of time before you two are getting hitched and I’m left all alone,” Mat sighed before pulling an eye mask over his head and putting in his headphones.

Mat made the comment in passing; he didn’t understand the weight of what he’d just said, and he was already brushing it off and leaving Anthony to sit and think about it.

Maybe Anthony should’ve felt panicked after the realization hit, but all he felt was that same sense of calm wash over him. He’d never given much thought to his future. He definitely didn’t plan on ending things with you and when he pictured himself in five years, you were always there beside him but he’d never made definitive plans.

Mat began dozing off as the plane took flight, but Anthony was wide awake. He knew he wanted to marry you, he was sure about that. There was no doubt in his mind that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, but the feeling was all-consuming.

He was happy, yes. Calm in a way he’d never felt before but also nervous. It wasn’t something you two had ever talked about, and for the first time, Anthony was insecure. He imagined it’s what you felt like when you started pushing away, and he finally understood.

Would you even want to get married? Did you want a life with him? Kids? A picket fence? The whole nine-yards?

Anthony knew he would give you anything you wanted, but the question was: Did you want him to?

-

As you flitted around the party, Anthony watched you with intent eyes. The girls had stolen you away earlier in the evening demanding pictures and that you mingle with them instead of hanging onto Anthony the entire night, not that Anthony minded that. He very much preferred when you were near him, if only to stop the chirps he was receiving.

“God, you’re such a lost puppy without her,” Jordan commented, snapping Anthony from his stupor as his gaze flickered back to his friends. Anthony blushed, knowing the comment was directed at him, but he had no comeback.

“Ease off, he’s just imagining his own wedding now,” Matt teased with a knowing look. Nearly all the guys had been there before, and Anthony knew they meant it in good fun.

“Popping the question any time soon, Beau?” Scott asked as he took a swig of his beer. Being the most recent one to get married, he understood the feeling probably better than the other married guys.

“Not soon but thinking about it,” Anthony admitted sheepishly. He wasn’t one to talk about his feelings with the guys. Sure, he went to one of the older ones if he ever needed advice, but those times were few and far between. By the raised brows of everyone near him, he could tell they were shocked with his admission. Happy, nonetheless, but still surprised.

Anthony had started thinking about it during the road trip when Mat had unknowingly dropped that bomb on him. He thought about it constantly, but he still hadn’t brought it up to you yet.

“Really? Good for you, dude,” Jordan said, and suddenly Anthony felt shy.

He couldn’t help it, his eyes shifted back to find you in the middle of conversation with Sydney as you snapped some pictures for other girls. You were glowing. You always glowed to Anthony, and maybe it was the wedding atmosphere, but right now, it was like you had a halo surrounding you.

Your face lit up at something someone said, and even though you were across the room, he could hear your laughter in his head.

The other guys exchanged a few glances between themselves as Anthony’s attention was stolen again by you. They couldn’t really blame him, they’d all been in his shoes at some point.

As the night dragged on and the drinks flowed freely, Anthony absorbed all of it: the soft voice you used when talking to the young kids who begged you to play with them, the way you clutched onto his arm when you made your rounds and mingled with other guests, the atrocious line dancing you did with Mat since Anthony refused to cotton-eye joe.

“Come on,” you said out of breath as you extended your hand to Anthony. You were tired from the long dance and a slower one had come on right after, “Just one dance.”

With a heavy sigh, Anthony took your hand as you led him to the dance floor for a slow dance. Your face was warm for the exertion and alcohol, and even a little sweaty and smudged, Anthony thought you were gorgeous.

His hands fell to your waist as yours wrapped around his neck, and he pulled your body flushed with his. You swayed to the music and rested your head on his chest.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” Anthony mumbled against your hair. Although unprompted, it wasn’t unwelcome.

“Oh yeah? Why is that?” You asked, pulling back to look at your boyfriend. It wasn’t normally like Anthony to be this soft, especially in public, but the wedding had only enhanced his good mood.

“Because I can’t even begin to describe how beautiful you are and how much I’m in love with you.”

He said it so simply and casually, as if he were recounting his favorite part of dinner instead of baring his heart for you to see. Your teasing smile softened into one of appreciation.

“Who knew weddings could turn you into such a sap, Beauvis?” you joked lightly, though you pulled yourself closer to him. It was that same stupid nickname Mat had called him one time, and you frequently used it much to Anthony’s dismay.

He tightened his grip on you as he returned your warm smile, and he could see it all right then: his entire life laid out ahead of him with you in the center of it all. Truth be told, Anthony was a sap for you, had been for a long time and you knew it.

“I want a winter wedding, too,” you commented easily after a moment, and Anthony felt his heart rate speed up.

“And if I want a summer wedding?” He threw back, though the smile on his face indicated he was only teasing.

“Hmm…” you paused to ponder the thought, “I think we might have to compromise on a fall wedding then. Summer is too hot for me.”

“Fall sounds nice,” Anthony mused, “A little difficult with the season, but we can make it work if you want.”

“As long as you’re there, I don’t really care when it is,” you replied, and Anthony found himself thinking the same thing.

He didn’t respond after that, deciding to let the music engulf the two of you as you continued to sway. Another slow song followed right after, but Anthony made no motion to leave. He would’ve stayed there all night if you wanted if it weren’t for Mat disrupting your dance and asking to cut in.

Anthony let him take over without hesitation as he didn’t really care much for dancing anyway, but he walked back to your table feeling lighter than he had ever felt in his life.

Unable to stop himself, he pulled out his phone as he watched you and Mat laugh on the dance floor, the song changing to a more upbeat one. Mat spun you away in a dramatic twirl that almost sent you stumbling had it not been for Mat’s hold on your hand.

Anthony smiled to himself as he opened Google to search for engagement rings.

[theladyofdeath]

The Ranch {22}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

The Ranch Masterlist

Two weeks after Nesta was discharged from the hospital, Cassian found himself waking up to the sun peeking through the master bedroom of the main house, the scent of bacon filling the air. After blinking a few times to clear his vision, he propped himself up on his elbows to find the other side of the king-sized bed empty, as well as the little bassinet he made that sat on the floor. With a fond shake of his head, his loose hair swinging in all different directions, he put his feet onto the hardwood floor and began his trek through the house. 

He followed the delicious smell into the kitchen, where Sloan was laying in a bouncy seat, calm and happy as could be, only a few feet away from where Nesta stood in front of the stove.

“You should’ve woken me up,” Cassian mumbled, walking up behind Nesta and pressing a soft kiss to her neck before wrapping his arms around her waist. “We talked about you taking it easy for a few weeks.”

She leaned back into his body with a small smile. “It’s been a few weeks. I need to cook. And I need to eat something other than your delicious spaghetti and sandwiches.” 

She turned around to meet him with a kiss on the lips before he said, “Hey, my spaghetti and sandwiches are delicious.” 

Nesta just snorted and pushed against his chest, then Cassian was down on his knees on the hard floor to peek down at his baby girl. “Good morning, beautiful.”

Her dark-blue eyes were wide as she looked up at her daddy but then they roamed around the room again. In the past two weeks, Sloan had been a fairly quiet baby. She loved to look around at her surroundings, to stare up at faces, especially their family, and each time she saw something new, her eyes lit up.

Cassian leaned in and looked closely at her. With a raised eyebrow, he said, “Ooh, Nes, it looks like her eyes are changing.”

Nesta didn’t look away from the skillet. “I’m aware. I carried her for nine months, I went through literal hell and back and gave birth to her squatting over a towel, with no drugs, just for her to come out and look just like you.”

The bitterness in her voice was clearly sarcastic, and Cassian chuckled. “Her eyes could change for up to six months. She could end up with Uncle Rhysie’s eyes for all we know.”

“If that happened, I’m sure you’d have questions,” Nesta mumbled, and Cassian’s grin widened as he unbuckled Sloan from the bouncy seat and slipped her out, cradling her in his arms. 

Nesta watched as he rounded the island and pulled out a kitchen chair. Once he was sitting, his feet propped up on the chair across from him, he got his face close to Sloan’s and whispered, “I love you.”

Sloan’s lips fell open as she looked up with wide eyes at Cassian. For a moment, the kitchen remained silent as the two stared at one another, Nesta staring at them. Since she gave birth, Nesta had been overly emotional - which was to be expected, but it had Cassian tip-toeing around her sensitive feelings. So when he heard her sniffle from her place in front of the stovetop, he tensed, before slowly breaking his gaze with Sloan’s and finding Nesta’s.

“I’m okay,” she said, voice breaking, turning off the burners. “Bacon?”

Cassian chuckled, watching her with soft eyes as she took a piece of crunchy bacon off the plate, already cooled off, next to the stove and took a bite. “I wish you’d come relax, Nes.”

She shook her head, and before Cassian could get up to make himself a plate, she was already walking toward him, a plate in each hand. She set one down in front of him before rounding the table and sitting down across from him, digging into her bacon, eggs, and avocado toast.

“Tell me to relax one more time and see where it gets you,” she said, raising a brow.

Cassian only shook his head while holding Sloan in one arm, and using the other to pick at his plate.

“By the way, everyone’s coming over for dinner tonight,” Nesta continued.

Cassian paused and looked around at the kitchen. It was a disaster, similar to the rest of the house. Balancing a newborn and daily chores wasn’t as easy as they’d been hoping, but they also weren’t expecting Nesta’s recovery to be as intense. Life had thrown them a curveball and they were taking it day by day.

But this house could not be cleaned in a day.

Before Cassian could protest, Nesta said, “Az will be over to help at two-thirty when I start cooking and little miss will hang out with mommy while daddy and Uncle Az clean.” Her sentence started out normal but had descended into baby talk by the end.

“You’re cooking?” Cassian asked, blinking. “For six people? Nesta-.”

“Don’t tell me to relax,” she sang, and when she caught Cassian’s uncertain expression, she sighed. “I’m not going crazy, it’s just a simple meal.”

Cassian continued to stare at her.

“I promise,” she added.

Cassian didn’t like it, but only because it worried him. “Fine, but also promise me that at the first sign of you feeling tired or achy or whatever, you sit and call for me, so I can help.”

“Promise,” she said, although the light in her eyes told him that she would do no such thing.

He narrowed his own eyes at her. “Why are we having dinner here? Can’t we have dinner at Rhys and Feyre’s place? They didn’t just have a baby.”

“Because,” Nesta said, taking Sloan from her daddy. “I want to cook. I miss cooking. I miss my sisters and they want to watch Az and Rhys melt into a puddle when they hold the most perfect baby in existence.”

Cassian chuckled and picked his plate up, practically inhaling the meal. Nesta was heading for the laundry room when she heard him groan. “Okay, you win. Better than my spaghetti and sandwiches, for sure.”

After he finished scooping up the last few crumbs, he was doing the dishes, begging Nesta to rest until Azriel showed up later.

She agreed, but she wasn’t happy about it. She took Sloan to the couch to keep her company while she folded a basket of laundry, then turned on bad reality television, which she quickly fell asleep to.

Cassian snorted when he saw her sprawled out on the couch, snoring quietly.

He scooped a yawning Sloan up and sat with her in the recliner, rocking back and forth until she was also put to sleep by the sounds of shitty reality TV. Meanwhile, Cassian quickly became addicted to the real housewives of something or another.

__

When Nesta’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing she noticed was how rested she felt. She stretched and snuggled back into her pillows.

Then she realized she was back in her bed.

Nesta sat up, looking around. “Cass?” Their bedroom door was cracked and Beau was laying on the foot of the bed, but Sloan wasn’t in her bassinet. She glanced over at the clock.

Nesta had never gotten out of bed so quickly in her life.

Pulling her mother’s old robe on, she hurried downstairs and-.

She froze halfway down the stairs and called, “Cassian?”

“Kitchen!”

She cautiously walked down the rest of the stairs and around the corner.

Cassian was standing at the island, while Sloan drooled on his chest where she was strapped into the carrier, fast asleep. Nesta looked around the kitchen, turned back to the living room, and looked back at Cassian.

The house was spotless.

He blinked at her surprise. “Your mouth is hanging open. Not very ladylike.”

She was too shocked to respond to his sarcasm. “The house looks amazing.”

He shrugged. “I know how to clean, apparently.”

“Where’s Azriel?”

“Found your ingredients list,” Cassian said, gesturing to the grocery list on the fridge. “I assumed it was for your simple dinner but you were missing a few things, so he ran up to the market a second to get them for you.”

Nestas brows shot up nearly into her hairline. “You let me sleep.”

“Yes,” he continued, popping an apple slice into his mouth. Sloan stirred against his chest, but quickly went limp again, her cheek squished up against his skin, her little lips hanging open. Cassian chuckled. “Oh, by the way, Sloan’s a fan of the carrier.”

“I see that,” Nesta said, still surprised. 

The back door swung open and Azriel stepped in with a paper bag filled with food from the market. He saw Nesta and smiled, softly, before kissing her cheek. “Good morning. Or, afternoon. Whatever. How are you feeling?” After setting the bag on the counter, he walked around the island to peek at his niece, who he kissed on the forehead. 

“What? I don’t get one?” Cassian asked, obviously feeling left out of Azriel’s affections.

He just rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the counter and looked at Nesta.

“Really good, actually,” she said. “Pretty well rested.”

“Good,” he smiled, and Nesta was so damn happy they had someone like Az in their life. He’d been their saving grace in more ways than one over the past year, and she wouldn’t ever be able to thank him enough for loving Elain as completely as he did. “I’ve got to pick a few things up before dinner, shower, shave, all that fun stuff. Is it cool if I…?”

Nesta laughed and said, “Of course, we’ll see you later. Call if you need anything.”

With a nervous smile, he was out the back doorway and Cassian was looking at Nesta with narrowed eyes.

She crossed her arms and asked, “What?”

He took a bite of another apple. “You’re meddling.”

“I’ve never meddled,” she said, simply.

“Liar,” he crooned, starting to bounce as Sloan stirred, once again. “You're- ow! Shit!”

Sloan had her mouth pressed against Cassian’s skin, just above his chest, sucking against it, hoping to find milk and only getting frustrated.

“She’s like a tiny, fucking vacuum, what the hell,” Cassian muttered, pulling her off, only to have her start crying. He took her out of the carrier and gently handed her over to Nesta. 

Nesta cradled her in her arm and unlatched her nursing cami, helping Sloan latch as she said, “Yeah, now you know how my tits feel.”

Cassian crowned, rubbing at the pained spot on his skin. “Your poor nipples.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as she laughed quietly, Sloan finally satisfied as her tummy filled with milk. 

Cassian began taking what Azriel had bought out of the bag and pulling it away. “What else needs to be done before your big night of hosting a family dinner?”

Nesta held Sloan close to her as she opened up a cabinet and pulled out a giant skillet. “Well, seeing how you let me sleep in and now it’s getting late….you, my love, are helping me cook. Welcome to the life of a chef's assistant. You’re my sous-chef of the night.” 

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh….yay…”

She tossed him an apron, which he caught effortlessly and stared at for an extended period of time.

“Shit, you’re serious?” He asked, watching as she retrieved everything she’d need to prep from under counters, out of cabinets, and from the pantry, all with only one arm while Sloan made happy noises as she fed.

“I am.” She set a box of lasagna noodles on the island and grabbed ground beef and Italian sausage from the refrigerator. “Earn your keep, Nazari.”

Cassian learned that when he had the proper instructions, or a cute baby strapped to his chest to entertain him, he really enjoyed cooking. Or it may have been that every time Nesta reached up into a cabinet or bent down to look into the oven, her robe rode up and he got a glimpse of her ass.

He was a little bitter that she wouldn’t let him taste anything, though. Every time he reached for a nibble, his hand got slapped away.

And it smelled so damn good. 

Hours later, Sloan was sleeping soundly in her swing and Cassian was sneaking into the bathroom, the water already running and steamy as Nesta’s shadow moved from behind the curtain. After kicking off his sweatpants, he climbed into the shower behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Her body shook with quiet laughter. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving time,” he mumbled, moving her wet hair aside and pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “Imagining all the things i’m gonna do to you when we can have sex again.”

“Ah, my fiancé, father of my child, the romantic,” Nesta crooned, before turning around to wrap her arms around his neck. Her eyes opened wide. “Speaking of, where is she?” She leaned around him and moved the shower curtain aside, trying to peek out.

“She is safe and sound, sleeping and just generally being all around perfect. And in case she wakes up,” he said, already seeing the question in her eyes. “The baby monitor is by the sink.”

She was looking at him with pursed lips, her head tilting slightly to the left. “And you burped her after I fed her?

He nodded, leaning closer. “Mhmm.”

Nesta was looking up at him, lips parted. “And you checked her diaper?”

“I even changed it,” he breathed, his lips brushing against hers. “Father of the Year, I know.”

She chuckled. “Fuck the six week rule,” she said, her quiet voice full of sarcasm. “I need you right now.”

Regardless of the fact that Nesta was right and they both knew they were still a full month away from sex, Cassian kissed her until she was breathless. Gods, he wanted to touch her breasts, but knew how sore they’d become from Sloan.

After a minute of soft, slow kisses, Nesta pushed Cassian’s back against the cool wall and he pulled his lips from hers. “We can’t, Nes-.”

“They said I can’t. They didn’t say anything about you,” she said with a smirk.

“You need to rest,” he muttered, but then she kissed his chest and cupped his balls, making him forget his protests. 

She sunk down to her knees before him, taking his hardening cock into her hands and pumping, slowly, before sliding her tongue over the tip and taking him wholly into her mouth.

His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned back against the tiled wall, and he wasn’t even ashamed that he didn’t last long, because the feeling of her mouth sliding over such sensitive skin, of his long fingers tangled into her soaked hair, of the quiet moans that vibrated against his cock, for his pleasure alone, had every bone inside of him completely and utterly on fire.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, fighting to keep his eyes open. “I’m about to cum.”

His warning was less of a heads up and more of an it’s happening right now thing.

With a groan, he bucked his hips once, and filled her mouth.

She didn’t hesitate, only stayed perfectly still, drinking him in, eyes locked on his, helping him ride it out with a slow, deep bob of her head. 

Cassian’s body relaxed as he ran his hands through his hair, Nesta’s lips trailing kisses up his abdomen, then his neck, and his own lips as he caught his breath. 

“Now bathe,” she whispered, patting his chest. “Everyone arrives in an hour.”

She left with nothing more, but Cassian peeked out of the curtain and watched her dry off before she disappeared into the bedroom.

__

“You love Aunt Feyre the most, don't you? Yes, you do.”

Sloan’s wide-eyed stare roved over Feyre’s face and then around the room.

“I think it’s too early to say who her favorite is,” Elain said, from where she sat on Azriel’s lap. She was just bitter that both times she’d held Sloan tonight, the baby had ended up crying and had to be given to either Cassian or Nesta.

Feyre rolled her eyes, and said, still in a high-pitched, baby-talk voice, “That's bullshit. Yes it is.”

Nesta laughed and shook her head and Elain’s pursed lips. 

Cassian, having taken way too long to get ready and came down dressed five minutes after everyone had gotten there, now swept into the living room holding a plate of appetizers that he’d scolded Nesta for making.

Even though he’d helped her.

Every time she wasn’t taking it easy, she got Cassian’s evil eye.

Except for when she was down on her knees in the shower.

He hadn’t complained then.

“When are you gonna knock Feyre up?” Cassian asked, flicking Rhysand on the back of the head. “Apparently she’s good with babies.”

“It’s a work in progress,” he said with a smirk.

“Rhys!” Elain said, blush high on her cheeks.

He laughed and Feyre chuckled and said, “I mean, he’s not wrong.”

Nesta’s eyebrows rose. “You’re trying to have a baby?”

They glanced at one another, softly smiling, and Feyre looked back down at Sloan. Rhys said, “I wouldn’t say we’re trying, it’s more that we’re not not trying.”

“Hell yeah, give Sloan a cousin,” Cassian said, setting the plate down and taking his squirming daughter. He immediately dissolved into baby-talk, which happened every time he held his daughter, something that never failed to make Nesta melt. “Babies are the best. Especially when they’re perfect like you.”

“Stop, or I’m gonna want you to knock me up all over again,” she crooned, leaning over the back of the couch to wrap her arms around his body and kissing the top of his head.

“Don’t tempt me,” he shot back, still in his baby talk voice.

“We’re all sitting right here,” Azriel awkwardly sang, eyeing the new parents.

Nesta laughed, quietly, wandering to an armchair on the opposite side of the couch. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get married first before we think of having more babies. Besides, Sloan was a miracle baby, so who knows  if we’ll even have any more.”

“If we don’t, that’ll be okay, too,” Cassian added, eyes soft.

“Yeah,” Nesta agreed, watching him with their daughter. “It’ll be perfect, either way.”

“Oh my gods,” Elain breathed, fanning her eyes. “Stop or you’ll make me cry. Y’all are so sweet.”

“Yeah, so sweet that you’re going to make me puke,” Rhys said, standing. “Let’s eat.”

Nesta just sighed and said “Y’all go sit down, I’ll have it right out.” Nesta knew Cassian would immediately offer to help, so she said, “Rhys, will you give me a hand?”

“Sure thing,” he said, not hesitating as she headed in the direction of the kitchen.

They walked through the door and Rhys took a deep breath. “Cassian told me he helped and I refuse to believe he could make something that smells this good.”

She laughed and said, “He did actually. Though I think he was more of a distraction than Sloan was.” She turned back towards him when she reached the island. “I have an ulterior motive for bringing you in here.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows raised. He warily said, “Okay?”

“When I pull Feyre up to the nursery after dinner, I need you to convince Cass to leave Az and Elain alone together for a few minutes.”

Understanding lit up his face. “For real?”

She nodded, smiling. “For real.”

Rhysand was terrible at keeping secrets. Not because he said a word about it, but because he was practically bouncing in his seat for the entirety of their meal. Feyre kept looking at him, concerned, asking if he was feeling okay. 

Nesta just kept shaking her head, apologizing silently to Azriel that she’d asked Rhysand for the minor part in his grand plan. 

After dinner, where everybody asked for seconds and not a crumb was leftover, their party made their way back into the living room. Wine was provided, and everyone but Nesta, who was breastfeeding, indulged themselves.

Which was ironic, considering Nesta picked out and paid for the fancy variety that lined the coffee table.

Feyre whistled as she popped to top to a sweet red and filled herself a glass. “You really went all out, Nes.”

“I only get the best for my family,” she said, unable to help her gaze slowly trail to Azriel, where he was plopped back on the couch, Elain in his lap, once again.

They talked and laughed and just enjoyed each other’s presence. It had been a long few weeks, understandably so, and the six of them had had so little time all together. “Nesta?”

She looked up from where Sloan was silently staring up at the ceiling in wonder. The baby loved the mobile hanging above her head, but she adored ceiling fans. Cassian was planning to put one in her nursery when he had a spare moment to breathe. Feyre was looking at her with concern on her face. “Are you...okay?”

For a minute, Nesta wasn’t sitting on a comfortable couch, fiancé’s arm around her. No she was in a rigid wooden chair, rope wrapped over and around her. The skin on her wrists was going to be permanently scarred from how hard she’d tried to break free, and that same panicked fear she’d felt filled her veins. Cassian’s arms tightened around her and she didn’t have to look up at him to know he was giving her as much of his strength as he could. Nesta’s eyes flicked back down to Sloan, who was gazing at her now. The love she felt for the sweet baby girl in her arms was overwhelming most days. She didn’t know it was possible to love someone so much. She took a deep breath. “Yeah, I am. I’m just...still processing, I think.” She looked up at Cassian who was looking down at her with the same sad look in his eyes.

“I can imagine,” Elain breathed. 

No one really knew what to say other than what had already been said in the recent weeks. For a moment, they dwelled in a comfortable silence, Cassian drawing small circles with his fingers on her arm. Nesta didn’t know how long it would take to process what had happened to her. She wasn’t sure if she would ever fully process it. What had happened to her had been a nightmare, to say the least, but as she looked back down at Sloan, she realized she would do it all over again if it meant that Sloan was born happy and healthy and safe.

The nightmare she was forced to go through would linger, but it would not ruin the outcome, would not take away from the gift she’d been given.

Her daughter.

Her miracle baby.

Cassian pressed a kiss to the top of Nesta’s head and then took Sloan, who brightened up as soon as she was in her father’s arms.

Elain was tearing up as she watched the precious scene, holding Azriel’s hand on her lap. His eyes flicked to Nesta and she saw the smallest inclination of his head. Nesta said, “Feyre, can I show you something I was thinking of adding to the walls in Sloan’s room?”

“Of course,” Feyre said, grabbing her wine glass and standing.

Elain said, “I wanna see,” and moved to stand, but Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist.

Rhysand asked Cassian, “Did you ever draw up plans for the new stables?”

Cass said, “Oh, shit, yeah, they’re in the kitchen on the island. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“That was weird,” Feyre whispered, as she followed Nesta up the stairs. “Why are-.”

“Hush,” Nesta snapped, quietly, and took Feyre’s hand to make her move quicker, until they disappeared. They didn’t make it to the nursery, though. Behind the wall, they stood, perfectly quiet, and listened. 

__

After everyone left the living room, all at once, Elain’s narrowed gaze slowly turned to Azriel, who was already watching her, adoringly. 

“Is there a reason our entire family just hauled themselves out of here?” Elain whispered, laughing quietly.

Azriel’s scarred fingers brushed her curled hair back behind her ears, and he licked his lips, slowly. ”I wanted a moment alone with you.”

Elain rolled her eyes, fondly. “We live together, Az, we’re always alone.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed, eyes bright, “but, this way, everyone will be here to celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” she asked, smile faltering as confused furrowed her brows.

Azriel just nodded, and gently moved her off of his lap before he stood up. Elain’s eyes widened as he got down on one knee in front of her, and took her trembling hands into his.

“Az,” she breathed, tears already forming in her eyes.

He smiled, not a glimmer of nervousness in his hazel eyes, but gods, they were so full of love. “Elain, I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you, and I’ll love you until I close my eyes and take my last breath. Everything that our family has gone through has shown me how much you mean to me, how much I don’t want to lose you. So…” He chuckled and pulled a dark blue ring box from the pocket of his jeans. “I guess it’s time for me to make you an honest woman. Elain Archeron, will you marry me?”

Quiet laughter shook her entire body as she sat up straighter, tears flowing down her cheeks, and said, “Of course.” 

He opened the box and she was greeted with a large, pear-shaped diamond seated upon a thin, silver band. With shaky hands, Azriel took it out, and slid it onto her finger. Thanks to Nesta’s nosiness, the ring fit her finger perfectly. 

Once it was secured, Elain practically tackled Azriel to the ground, and when his back was against the rug, her slender body pressed against his, she kissed him, softly, and he knew her tears were only tears of joy, but he reached up to brush them away, nonetheless.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“I love you, too,” she promised. “Oh, Az, I’m so happy. It’s about time you asked.”

Azriel stilled, and blinked, but it only made Elain’s laughter flutter around him, and it was the most beautiful, joyous sound he’d ever heard. 

“Can we come out now?” Feyre called, from where she’d disappeared with Nesta beyond the top of the stairs. 

Elain laughed. “You knew?”

Feyre was down the stairs nearly before Elain had time to blink and she embraced her sister. “No, you know I would have told you. I wouldn’t have been able to keep it from you.”

Elain leaned back, looking from Feyre to Az. “Then who-?”

Nesta was just stepping back through the living room doorway when Elain breathed, “Nes, you did all this? For me?”

“For both of you,” she corrected, and just as she was about to say something sweet, Cassian was storming in from the kitchen, staring at Azriel with narrowed eyes.

“You didn’t tell me?”

Azriel just shook his head from where he still sat on the carpet, leaning back on his hands. “Cass, I love you, but you can’t keep a secret.”

“I can too,” he said, then looked to Nesta for confirmation.

“Yeah, no,” she began, hesitantly, making Rhysand laugh from behind him. “You can’t keep a secret.” 

Then, Cassian’s eyes widened. “Fuck, you kept it a secret from me, too. That’s double betrayal. How rude.”

Nesta whispered something into his ear that had his disgruntled look turning into a wide, sly grin. “Fair enough. I’m holding you up to that promise, though.”

Nesta snorted. “Oh, I know.” When she looked back to Elain, she was looking at all of them, taking all of them in, taking in this moment, this milestone, surrounded by her family. 

__

Nesta held the baby monitor close to her body as she sat by Cassian on the couch, bundled up beneath a blanket as a fire roared from inside the fireplace, a movie on the television. Rhysand and Feyre were bundled up on the floor, the latter having far too many glasses of wine and nearly about to fall asleep on her husband’s chest. 

Elain and Azriel were in heaven, staring deeply into each other’s eyes as they cuddled together in the lazyboy. 

When Nesta looked up at Cassian, he was already watching her, fondly. He gently took the baby monitor from her hand and turned it all the way up before putting it on the table beside him and pulling Nesta into his lap. He rubbed her back, softly, as she rested her head on his shoulder. 

“You look happy,” Cassian whispered.

Nesta wanted to laugh. It was such a simple, unprofound statement, and yet it was so true that it made her heart ache. 

Yes, she was happy.

A little lost, a little paranoid, but those were just thoughts in the back of her mind that she prayed would fade with time. 

She couldn’t deny her happiness, though, the wholeness that she had found in this little town that she wanted so desperately to get away from all those years ago. She had lived her dream, had toured the world and cooked for the rich and famous. She had owned her own restaurants, had been wildly successful for such a young woman.

But she had never been happy.

Here, though? With her sisters, with Cassian, with Sloan...she was so fucking happy.

A soft little whine came through the baby monitor, and Nesta’s body instantly tensed. 

“It’s okay,” Cassian breathed. “I’ll get her.”

After kissing Nesta on the forehead, he was heading up the stairs, and although Nesta tried not to, she followed him soon after. As she rounded the top of the stairs and made her way down the hall, she could hear Cassian’s soft, soothing voice comforting their newborn. And when she stopped at the nursery and leaned against the threshold, she found herself tearing up. 

Cassian was such a natural.

He held her close to his chest, bouncing her, patting her back gently until her cries subsided and her eyelids fell shut, once again. 

“Just needed her daddy?” Nesta whispered, wiping at her face.

Cassian looked over his shoulder at his fiancée and chuckled. “Maybe so. Maybe she just needs a bedtime story.”

“A bedtime story?” Nesta repeated. “And what will be her bedtime story tonight?”

“Hmm,” Cassian began, walking in small, slow circles around the rug with his baby girl. “She really likes the one about the handsome ranch hand and the stuck up city girl who thinks she’s hot shit.”

Nesta had to cover her mouth from laughing so it wouldn’t wake Sloan. “Wow, sounds a little intense for a newborn.”

“She gets the abridged version,” he said with a smile.

Nesta couldn’t help herself as she stepped further into the room, smoothing the dark hair back off Sloan’s forehead. She loved the moments like this, when she was able to stop and appreciate her daughter’s beauty, Cassian’s love, the outpouring of support from her sisters.

He reached out with his free hand and brushed away the tears that had fallen down Nesta’s cheeks. He didn’t say anything, just smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. After swaddling Sloan back into her blanket, Cassian turned, wrapping his arms around Nesta and kissed her gently.

Her eyes were closed, but she sniffled, resting her forehead against his chest. “Thank you,” she breathed.

His arms tightened and he chuckled. He asked quietly, “For what?”

“For giving me the life I never let myself dream of.”

Cassian took her face into his hands and leaned back, only to press his lips against hers, softly. “Get used to this life, cause this is what the rest of your life is going to look like, Nesta Archeron.”

“Good,” she breathed, unable to help the smile that graced her lips. “Although, you’ll have to get used to calling me Nesta Nazari, soon.”

Cassian arched a brow. “Does this mean the wedding planning is starting?”

“Yes,” she said, leaning up on her toes to kiss him, gently. 

“Good,” he said, repeating her statement.

They stayed like that for a long moment, as the night went on, in each other’s arms, saying nothing but breathing in every second. Sloan was sound asleep in her crib beside them, their family was downstairs, and Nesta and Cassian had the rest of their lives ahead of them.

Nesta meant what she said. 

Cassian had given her a life she’d never dreamt of.

This wonderful, beautiful life that she was pretty sure she didn’t deserve, but never wanted to be without.

For the first time in her life, Nesta Archeron was perfectly happy with the life she was living, and she never wanted anything more.

[snelbz]

The Ranch {11}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

Cassian awoke the next morning and snuck out of Nesta’s bed, careful not to wake her as he pulled on his jeans. He didn’t get far though, because as he took a step toward the door, his shirt tossed lazily over his shoulder, there was a sleepy, “Sneaking out without a goodbye?”

Cassian chuckled softly as he looked over his shoulder. “I wanted to let you sleep. Sun’s not up yet. I gotta get to workin’.”

The top sheet was the only cover left on the bed by the time they were through the night before. And it was currently draped low over Nesta’s back. She dropped her messy head back onto her pillow and mumbled what sounded like a goodbye.

He made his way back to the bed, pausing to brush her hair off her face, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“I’m not getting up until it’s a reasonable hour,” she murmured.

He chuckled softly and he said, “Sounds good. I lo-.” The words nearly tumbled from his mouth, without even meaning to. He covered it by stuttering. “I’ll, uh, go into town later and pick up the materials we ordered for the stables.”

Nesta only nodded, already half back to sleep,  not even noticing his near miss.

He watched her for another split second before hauling ass out of the little house and across the way into his own little cabin. Beau was instantly alert, staring at him with daggers in his little puppy eyes.

“Sorry, Beau,” he said, giving the pup a good rub. “I’ll come get you first next time.”

Beau quickly forgave him, jumping up to rest his paws on Cassian’s thighs.

“Let me change and let’s go check on the cattle, huh?” 

Beau hopped down and followed Cassian into the bedroom as he changed, slipped on his boots, and took Beau out into the pastures.

It was over five hours later when he noticed the front door of the main house was open, as were all the windows. It was a beautiful day and he wasn’t surprised to see that Nesta had decided to let some fresh air into the house. He made his way up to the house, going around back to rinse the mud and horse shit from his boots. The storms had made the back pasture a swampy mess and he and Beau had spent most of their morning moving half the herd into the pasture closest to the house.

He opened the back door and froze, taking in the delicious smell. Nesta was at the stove, a large pan atop one of the burners. He rested his hands on her hips and pressed a kiss to her neck. “What’s for lunch?”

She leaned into him and flipped the sandwich in the pan over. “Croque monsieur.”

“I don’t know what the hell you just said, but I love the way you said it.” He kissed down her neck until he reached her bare shoulder.

She laughed and said, “It’s basically a fancy French grilled cheese, with ham.” She turned to kiss him and wrinkled her nose. She giggled and said, “You stink.”

He raised his brows before making a show of sniffing himself. “I smell fantastic.”

“You smell awful,” she countered.

“It’s called musk,” Cassian said. “The scent of a man.”

“It’s called shit,” Nesta laughed. “The smell of cow. And horses. Mixed with sweat.”

Cassian grinned. “Well, I’d shower but that would be a waste.” His work day was far from over.

“I suppose I’ll let it slide,” she said, sighing. “At least while I feed you.”

“I’m honored,” Cassian said, laughing as he sat down at the table while Beau laid by Nesta’s feet. “You painting?”

“Yes, I was hoping to get the living room, the dining room, and the downstairs bathroom done, but I’ve been working all morning on the living room and I’ve only finished half. So.”

“Want some help?” He asked, watching as she deposited the sandwich on a plate, then pulled two more out of the oven where they’d been warming.

She shook her head as she put the other two on the plate and set it in front of him. “No, thank you. You seem to have your hands full out there as it is.” She nodded her head in the direction of the back of the property and opened the fridge. She poured sweet tea into a glass and set it down in front of him.

He looked at the food in front of him. “You made me three sandwiches and you made sweet tea?”

 “Is three too many?” She bit her lip as he took a drink of the tea.

He set his glass down. “God damn it, that’s good. Marry me.”

Nesta blinked, stared at him for a moment, then began to laugh, uncomfortably. “Okay, it’s good, but it’s not that good.”

“Agree to disagree,” Cassian said, mouth full of food.

She rolled her eyes. “Brute. Mind your manners.”

Cassian just grinned as he took another bite. “Seriously, thank you. It’s delicious.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, sitting across from him with a sandwich of her own. “Now stop talking with your mouth full.”

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered, still talking with his mouth full. 

She smiled and ate her own sandwich. Nesta filled Cassian in on the plans she had for the upstairs rooms. He listened quietly, eating his sandwiches and nodding in approval or made suggestions occasionally, but always swallowing his food before speaking.

After they were done eating, Cassian volunteered to do the dishes, while Nesta made her way back into the living room and continued painting. He heard her phone ring from the other room and heard a one-sided conversation between Nesta and one of her sisters.

The conversation began very normally, with Nesta answering with a simple, “Hey.”

He immediately heard an elevated voice from the other end of the phone. It sounded as if she was yelling and he quickly dried his hands off on the dish towel hanging from the cupboard before rushing into the living room.

He found Nesta leaning against the stairwell, with the phone against his ear, slowly rubbing her temples. He walked closer and could hear Feyre through the phone.

Nesta finally found a break in the conversation to say, “I was going to call you tonight, but-.”

Feyre began to speak again, and Nesta tried to speak a few times before he heard his name. Her eyes flicked up to him, just as his eyebrow rose. She hung up a moment later and Cassian asked, “Everything good?”

Nesta sighed and said, “I hope you didn’t have plans tonight, because we’re expected to be at Rita’s at seven.”

Cassian blinked. “And Feyre demanded that through yelling?”

“Apparently she had a conversation with Elain...who told her we slept together then went out on a date,” Nesta explained, looking pointedly at Cassian.

He cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah, uh, my bad.”

Nesta snorted. “Well, can you come tonight?”

“Depends,” he crooned. “Does this count as a second date?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, we’re all going out.”

“Then I’m busy,” he said.

She laughed, quietly. “Fine. It’s a date.”

“Then I’ll pick you up at six-forty-five.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Okay,” she smiled and turned to climb back up the ladder by the front door.

Cassian couldn’t resist the urge to smack her ass as he walked out.

Nesta was staring at her closet with a scowl on her face. Before moving back to the states, she’d sold most of her belongings. That included the bulk of her wardrobe. Now she was left with what would fit in two suitcases and a duffle bag, and after a month in town, she was starting to have to repeat clothes. She sighed and pulled out two potential outfits she hadn't worn.

One was a light pink dress with soft lace that framed her breasts. It was tight and short and honestly something Nesta never would have picked out for herself, had it not been given to her. The other was a black lace bodysuit, paired with jeans, but she wasn’t sure whether or not it was Velaris appropriate.

Who was she kidding, it was borderline obscene, but she looked damn good in it and she knew it.

She sent a short text to Cassian.

Don’t think, just answer. Black or pink.

The little dots appeared that showed he was typing back. Then they stopped. Then he sent Black.

Good answer, she thought, pulling it out of her closet and tossing it onto her bed. She curled her hair and did her makeup once she’d gotten out of the shower. It was weird to think she was more nervous for tonight than she was the night before, on their first date. This time, it wasn’t just the two of them. Now, they were going out with her sisters, with his friends. Tonight seemed more...official.

And it freaked her the fuck out.

She had just finished zipping her boot up when she heard a knock at her door. She checked her phone, noticing that six-forty-five had snuck up on her. She grabbed her clutch off the bed and hurried to the door, swinging it open to find Cassian, holding a dozen long stemmed roses.

Nesta stilled.

He held them out toward her, smiling upon seeing her surprised look. “For you.” Then he saw her and a curse fell from his lips. “You look...fuck. How much trouble will we be in if we just don’t show up to the bar?”

“A lot,” she chuckled, taking the flowers from him. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

She brought them inside and into the kitchen where she found a tall glass and filled it with water before setting the bouquet inside.

When she turned around, Cassian was right behind her, blatantly staring at her ass.

“May I help you?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, which only made her breasts pop out more.

He slowly met her gaze as he said, “Yes, please.”

With a roll of her eyes, she was taking his hand and dragging him out the front door.

Twenty minutes later, they were walking into a packed Rita’s. Nesta’s eyebrows raised. This was much different than the last time they’d been here. This was more reminiscent of the clubs she’d avoided in the big cities.

“College night,” Cassian said, voice raised so she could hear him. “VU students get a free shot with every premium beer ordered until eight-thirty.”

“That sounds horrible.” She cringed, but was thankful that was only a little over an hour away.

Cassian shrugged. “She never has to worry about her well alcohol sitting. It’s smart, actually. Come on.”

They made their way through the crowd, bumping into bodies as they moved to the music.

“Your sisters are over at the corner table,” he said, putting his lips to her ear. “Why don’t you go deal with them and I’ll get us a drink.”

She nodded and as she turned to leave, he tugged on her hand. When she looked back at him, he gently cupped her cheek and pressed him lips to hers. Then he pulled back, winked and a smacked her ass.

She rolled her eyes and made her way over to the table.

As she scooted into the booth, Feyre and Elain paused the animated conversation they were having, both having taken advantage of Feyre’s VU ID card from the year before.

Nesta’s phone vibrated and she pulled it from her clutch, holding a finger up before one of them exploded.

I’m going to enjoy taking that off tonight.

It vibrated again.

Very, very, very slowly.

And once more.

With my teeth.

She texted back, watching him across the room as his phone was in his hand. He was leaning on the bar, casually talking to Azriel, but she saw the change on his face when he read her response.

My turn to surprise you with no panties.

She watched as he blinked and took a long, slow breath. Then he was typing away and a second later she received, Tease.

She snorted and shoved her phone into her pocket before meeting the interrogating gazed of her sisters.

Nesta waited, but when neither of them spoke, she asked, “What?”

Elain and Feyre both started talking at once.

“What the fuck?” Feyre asked, “Cassian? And you didn’t tell me?”

Just as Elain said, “He called me the other day and I got way too much info from him that I should’ve got from you.”

They stopped, and Nesta stared, and then Feyre said, “Bitch.”

“Are you two done?” Nesta asked, leaning back in the booth.

Elain nodded as Feyre grinned. “Details. Hurry. I give them less than two minutes before they’re coming this way.”

Nesta pursed her lips and gave them the condensed events, starting with their conversation in the morning, spending more time than was necessary on Emerie and limited detail on the sex itself.

Feyre groaned and said, “On the couch? Really?”

Elain looked at her, sipping her beer. “Says the one who let Rhys fuck her on the kitchen table.”

Feyre almost spit out her drink.

Nesta couldn’t help but laugh as Cassian plopped onto the booth next to her, sliding a cocktail in front of her.

Elain and Feyre’s eyes slid his direction.

He paused, bottle of beer halfway to his mouth.

“Why didn’t anyone make this big of a deal when you and I had sex for the first time?” Rhysand mumbled, practically falling on top of Feyre.

“Because you made it publicly known, starting the second after it happened,” Azriel added, pulling a chair up to the end of the table. “And it got really annoying, really fast.”

Feyre laughed, patting Rhysand on the knee, and Nesta said, “Can we please change the subject?”

The six of them all fell into conversations, flowing from one to another naturally, laughing and drinking and just enjoying spending time with each other.

“Baby,” Feyre slurred, laying her head on Rhys’ shoulder. “I wan’ dance.”

“Oooh!” Elain was already trying to pull Azriel out of the booth.

“Y’all go ahead,” Rhys said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Come on, Nesta,” Elain demanded, as Azriel stayed put.

Nesta hesitated, then gazed longing at her drink. “But I haven’t-“

She was pulled out of the booth, unable to stop her laughter from sputtering out of her mouth as she fell into the middle of the dance floor with her sisters.

It had been a long time since she allowed herself to let loose, to dance. When she was younger, it had never really been her thing, but as she grew older, especially being with her sisters, it was freeing. 

The live band playing on the little stage was playing so loudly that she could feel the music thrumming throughout her body. She looked back at Cassian every once in a while. 

He was watching her, intently, with a hungry gaze. She turned, holding onto Feyre’s hand. They laughed and Feyre spun her. Her long empty drink was raised in the air and when someone took it from her, wrapping their arms around her, she settled back into the warmth of his arms.

She moved to the music, the feeling of his arms around her intoxicating, fueling the warmth of the alcohol in her veins.

Azriel was pulling Elain towards the booth, while Rhysand dramatically dipped Feyre. Nesta couldn’t help but smile as she felt the calloused hands grip her hips and grind her into himself.

Her hair was dragged back from her neck and lips nibbled on her pulse point, smooth skin dragging along her own.

She ran her hand up the back of Cassian’s head, grabbing for his long hair that she’d known he left down for her.

Only to feel close cropped hair slide across her fingers.

She stilled, only for a second, before spinning around to meet Tomas’s humored gaze.

His hands reached for her waist, once more, as Nesta asked, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Come on,” he said, above the music as she swatted his hands away. “Don’t act like you didn’t feel it when we ran into each other the other day, Nes. Dance with me. It’s just a dance.”

“I don’t want to,” she hissed, and went to move around him, but he stepped into her path.

“One dance,” he crooned, his hand grabbing hers.

But a hand had reached up to grab Tomas on the shoulder from behind him. Nesta’s eyes connected with Cassian's hardened hazel eyes, which were watching the back of Tomas’ head.

“I’m pretty sure the lady said no.” The words were almost impossible to distinguish from the music, the growl nearly as deep as the bass

“Fuck off, Nazari.” He shrugged, pulling Nesta’s body into his. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

She pushed him off. “No, thank you,” she said, trying to distance herself from him, stumbling into a table.

Cassian caught her, steadying her. He got in Tomas’ face. “Don’t fucking touch her. You lost your chance.””

A light sparked in Tomas’s eyes: recognition. “Ah, she's warming your bed now, is she?”

Cassian's jaw locked but Nesta’s eyes had narrowed. “Fuck off, Tom.”

But Tomas was looking at Cassian. “Out of all the people in the world, she found the trashiest bastard in town.”

“Leave,” Cassian ordered. His voice was low, quiet, but his shoulders were tensed.

The little smile remained on Tomas’s lips as he looked to Nesta. “When you get bored of him, my number is still the same.”

He walked away, but even as Tomas reached the door, Cassian didn’t move.

Nesta turned. “You know Tomas.”

Cassian didn’t say anything, didn’t look away from his retreating form. He only nodded.

Nesta felt her walls rebuilding. She felt the cold chill shoot up her spine. “How.”

Cassian’s eye trailed him as he left, then he glanced down at her, the disdain clear. “He’s the reason my roping career ended.” The music continued playing around them and he said, “I hate him. I don’t want you around him.”

Nesta blinked once. She could barely think. Could barely put two words together, much less tell him that she had no interest in speaking to or seeing Tomas Mandray ever again.

Instead, the single word that left her mouth was, “What?”

“I don’t want you around him,” Cassian repeated.

Nesta nearly wanted to laugh, but there was no hint of laughter in her voice as she asked, “And who the fuck do you think you are to tell me what to do?”

Cassian stilled, but his lips were tight.

“Fuck you,” she spat, the anger inside of her growing until her hands began shaking at her sides. “I’m not your girlfriend. You can’t tell me what to do.”

She pushed through the crowd, reaching their table and retrieving her bag and phone, unwisely tossing back the rest of her drink. She turned and found him nearly to the table as well, but was darting down the back hall, towards that glowing red sign that would mean her escape from bodies that made her feel too hot, too close, too tight.

She burst out the door and turned, leaning her back against the brick wall across from the door, eyes closed as she swallowed as much air as she could. The alley was empty mercifully as she caught her breath, as she reminded herself that no one was forcing her to stay inside.

“What the fuck are we then.”

She hadn’t even heard him come out, wondered if he’d come out when she did. If he did, he’d let her have a moment until she didn’t look like she was going to fall apart.

“Leave me alone, Cassian,” she said, face in her hands.

“No, I want you to give me an answer,” he hissed.

She didn’t bother looking at him. “Take me home,” she whispered, exhausted.

“Well which is it?” He asked, his voice rising. “Leave you alone or take you home?”

Tears sprung in the corners of her eyes, and she hated herself for it. She didn’t take her hands away from her face.

“We’re not going anywhere until you tell me-.”

“Just stop!” She yelled, her hands falling away as she turned to face him.

He froze, jaw locking.

The door opened and Elain and Azriel came out into the alley. She frantically caught Nesta’s hand and asked, “Are you okay?”

She held Cassian’s stare and blinked, looking at her sister and nodding. The silent tears that began to stream down her face rooted Cassian to where he was standing.

“Come on,” Elain said, voice soft. “Let’s go.” She began to pull Nesta away and Cassian reached out, brushing his fingers against hers.

She looked at him, and that softness he’d woken up to this morning, the light he’d gotten used to…

It was gone. And in its place was the raging storm she’d been when he’d met her.

He didn’t understand.

Wanted to, but didn’t. 

Nesta walked away with Elain and Azriel, the latter looking over his shoulder apologetically.

He stayed put for a moment, mind whirling, as he watched her walk out of the alley and disappear around the corner before tumbling back to his own truck.

He felt confused.

Pissed. Frustrated. Upset. Hurt. But mostly confused.

“Cass!”

He turned and caught Rhysand’s eyes from the door. He and Feyre hurried to his truck. She demanded, “What the fuck happened?” Cassian didn't even have time to reply before she forged on. “I looked over and found the three of you in each other’s faces. And then that fucker left and she stormed away from you?”

“He was being an ass. Then I told her I didn’t want her around Tomas and she lost her shit,” Cassian mumbled. “I don’t know. I’m going home.”

Feyre reached out and grabbed his arm as he was about to pull himself into his truck. He stopped, and when he met her eyes, he was surprised to find her eyes soft.

“Don’t be too hard on her,” she whispered, even though from the look on Rhysand’s face, he knew enough about why. “She and Tomas… He… Just don’t be too hard on her.”

He didn’t bother to mention that he wasn’t sure if she’d even speak to him.

When he got home, he found her on his porch. She still wore that damn skin tight lace, showing every delicious curve he wanted to run his tongue along.

Every curve he had run his tongue along.

He got out of the truck and made his way up the stairs, his boots thudding with each step.

She sat on the top step, a lit cigarette between her fingers.

He leaned on the railing, crossing his arms, and said, “Didn’t know you smoked.”

She put it to her lips and took a drag, the end glowing in the darkness. She blew out a stream of smoke and shrugged. “I don’t. Just a nervous habit.”

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. He hesitated, but closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I think we need to talk.”

She nodded, taking another pull and stood, dropping the cigarette into a beer can that had been left on the small patio table he had. It went out with a sizzle.

“If I’ve…” he began, then stopped. He blew out a long breath before starting over. “If I’ve jumped to conclusions about what we are, I’m sorry.”

Nesta didn’t say anything, didn’t move for a moment. She stared at a spot on the deck for a moment before saying, “Nothing about tonight was about you.”

Cassian wanted to press her, but didn’t. He didn’t need to, though, because she continued.

“I didn’t realize you knew Tomas, it threw me off,” she said. “We used to date. For a long time. He was an ass. Made me feel….small. And then he cheated on me. That was almost ten years ago, and I haven’t been in a real, healthy relationship with anyone since. I don’t even know if I’ve ever had a healthy time relationship.”

Cassian didn’t say anything, contemplating just how much he should say. But this woman… this gods damned breath of fresh air that had blown into town, into his life and actually made him enjoy what he did again…

The woman that he’d fallen in love with… she deserved to know everything.

“I know.” She looked up from the deck and waited for him to continue. He sighed and closed his eyes, taking a moment before he went on. “You may not have remembered me from school, but Cauldron, I remembered you. I had the biggest crush on you, but when I found out you were dating Tomas Mandray, the only other header in our state that gave me a run for my money? The one thorn in my fucking side who only won because daddy bought him the fastest horse he could find?” He shook his head. “I knew that we never had a chance, regardless of the fact that you didn’t even know I existed. I could have introduced myself, I could have put myself on your radar, but what good would that have done? You were still with him.” Nesta stared at him unable to say anything. “And then I saw you in Guthrie.” He looked at her, looked into her eyes, letting her see the sincerity in them. “And I saw him make you cry. I knew it was none of my business, so I didn’t say anything. Rhys told me if I did anything to fuck up our chances at a title, he’d personally cut my balls off. We roped the first night, took the average. Roped the second, came up short by point zero four seconds. Still won the average so far, but Tomas was right behind me. Then on the third, I caught him running his mouth and bragging about how he was able to keep that side piece from you for months.”

Nesta felt like she was going to be sick. She’d never been sure, but she’d always assumed he’d been cheating on her for longer than she knew.

“So I beat the shit out of him, had my membership in the USTRC revoked and was told that I’d never rope professionally again. And I haven’t. I was turned away from every rodeo I tried to enter. So I gave up.”

Nesta stared at him, completely speechless. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind but they all sounded ridiculous. All she managed was a breathless, “You…” but nothing followed.

He looked up at her then, at her wide, misty eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, then she said, “You really did beat the shit out of him.”

Nesta remembered hearing about it the next day, feeling grateful at whoever gave Tomas what he deserved.

But never in a million years would she have thought it had been Cassian.

“You didn’t deserve to be disrespected like that, whether you knew or not.” His voice was quiet, still, cold.

She breathed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He let his hands drop to his side and a frustrated chuckle left him. “What was I supposed to say? Oh, by the way, I assaulted your ex and had my dream ripped from me when it was within spitting distance?”

She didn’t say anything, knowing he was right. How would he have even brought it up, especially seeing her reaction to Tomas in the hardware store.

Her lips tightened but she said nothing. She should apologize, should try to tell him something comforting or reassuring, although that had never been a strength of hers.

Instead, she met him at the top of the stairs and laid her fingers against his cheek, forcing him to meet her gaze. And when he did, with eyes still half lit with anger, but dwelling with softness for her, she kissed him, softly, slowly.

He melted into the touch of her lips against his, his arms wrapping around her slender waist. 

She pulled back, and he was shaking his head. “I’m sorry I got pissed tonight,” he breathed, brows furrowed. “I acted like an ass.”

“You did,” she agreed, and the chuckle that left him slid across her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You were just trying to protect me, and I know that. You’ve apparently been doing that way longer than I’ve known.” She smiled softly and his lips turned up slightly in response, that anger diminishing with every second. “But… I can fight my own battles, Cassian. I’m a big girl and I promise I can handle myself on my own. Okay?”

He closed his eyes, sighed and nodded. “Okay. But only if you agree to let me step in if need be. I promise,” he began, his eyes sincere. “I won’t ever overstep my boundaries if I can help it, but if I feel like something is wrong, I’ll have to handle it.”

“You’ll have to?” She whispered, amusement lacing her tone.

He nodded, slowly, eyes bright as he cupped her face. “I care about you, Nesta.”

Words escaped her as she stared up at him, as his thumbs brushed across her cheeks. 

She knew he wasn’t lying, knew he wasn’t saying it just to say it. She could see the truth of his words in his eyes, could feel it in his touch.

The thought terrified her.

But it ignited her, too, set her soul on fire, woke her up.

“Kiss me,” she breathed, pleaded, needed to taste him to know this moment, these confessions, were real.

So he did. His hand curled into her hair, the other going to her lower back, holding her against him, and his lips devoured hers in a searing kiss. It took her breath away and made her feel alive. There was so much he couldn’t say that he poured into that kiss and Nesta could feel it, could feel herself falling.

This man, this impossibly frustrating, amazing, complicated man, he had thrown her world off its axis. Had made her second guess a lot of things about her life she’d never allowed herself to.

And he cared for her, for some ridiculous reason that she was trying so hard to understand but didn’t. They were polar opposites, two people worlds apart. She didn’t care, though, didn’t care that they didn’t make sense. 

Cassian lifted her up and her legs wrapped around his waist in silent acceptance. He carried her inside of the little cabin, where Beau looked up from his spot on the couch before snuggling back into the cushions. 

Neither of them said a word, their lips refusing to be parted, as they entered his bedroom.

Her back gently hit the mattress as he laid her down, his body covering hers. Her hands were in his hair, framing his face, pulling at his shirt, grabbing his ass through his jeans. He was all she could feel, all she could, taste, smell, see, hear. He completely overwhelmed her senses, but gods, she loved the disorienting haze his kisses dragged her into.

She bit his bottom lip, just like she had on the football field, and he growled quietly. Pulling back, his hazel eyes found hers and they were intense and she found herself wanting to push him, to see how far she could go before he lost control.

So she leaned up, brushing her lips along his jawline. His stubble was rough, scratching against her skin in an intoxicating way, and she trailed her kisses down his throat until she found that spot where his neck met his shoulder.

The hand bracing his weight that was next to her head balled into a fist, the sheets and blankets bunching up in it. The hand on her hip tightened.

Her gentle fingers slid beneath the hem of his shirt, feeling the warm skin beneath. Those teasing kisses along the base of his throat continued, sucking softly, brushing her tongue against his skin.

His eyes closed, his lips parted.

Nesta wanted to capture that moment, paint him in that light for all eternity, hardly holding on, dwelling in her touch as she worshipped him, patiently.

Her hands slid up his back, just beneath his shoulder blades as her lips trailed down between the collar of his shirt.

A shuddering breath left him and he leaned back, pulling the shirt over his head and went to lie back atop of Nesta. Instead, she pressed a palm to his chest and took a moment to look at him.

He was a fucking Adonis in human form. Her hand trailed down between his pecs, across his abdomen, over the dusting of hair beneath his belly button, and finger followed the deep groove of muscle at his hip down into the jeans that were becoming impossibly tighter with every touch.

She looked up at him through her lashes, and dragged that finger along the waistband of his jeans, finding the button and playing with it before she popped it loose.

He watched, lips pressed together. Nesta swore he held his breath as she pulled down his zipper and pushed his jeans down past his hips. Cassian’s body finally shook with a deep breath as he pushed himself off the bed and onto the floor. Nesta rolled onto her side and silently watched as he kicked off his boots and pushed his jeans onto the wooden floorboards, but when he took a step back toward the bed she shook her head, eyes bright as they admired him.

She scooted herself to the side of the mattress before pulling herself up into sitting position, her long legs draped over the sides. She reached down to unzip one of her boots and toss it to the side, then the other, and she stood in front of him before trailing her fingers down his body, once more. 

He was beautiful.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” His voice was rough. His fingers found her chin and when he grazed his thumb across her lips, she pressed the softest of kisses to it. When she heard his breath hitch, she pulled it into her mouth and sucked lightly, letting her tongue swirl around it. She looked up at Cassian, into his eyes, and she swore she was going to combust from the look he was giving her.

He removed his thumb, and though there was a ferocity in his eyes, he gently took her face in both of his hands and kissed her softly.

He pulled back and whispered, “Nesta, I-. Fuck…” His words trailed off as he kissed her again, nipping at her bottom lip. He pulled away abruptly, leaving Nesta breathless. He spoke in a rush, almost as if he knew that if he didn’t speak now, he wouldn’t speak at all. “Fuck, Nesta, I think I love you. And I know that’s insane, but you’re all that I think about. You’re the only thing I want, and I just-.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I had to tell you. I’m falling for you, harder and harder every day.”

Feeling breathless, her forehead fell against his chest. She closed her eyes, terrified of the next words to come out of her mouth. “I feel the same.” And she looked up at him, then, through her long lashes. “I love you, too.”

Four words, barely audible, even in the silence of the cabin. But the look in his eyes at those words was something so vulnerable and raw, with a hint of something almost like surprise, that Nesta could hardly breathe. 

She wanted to tell him not to hurt her, not to break her heart, not to make her regret those words. But as he took that little step closer to her, closing what was left of the distance between them, she knew he wouldn’t.

He didn’t need to tell her, because he would show her.

A hand reached around and found the small zipper at the back of her neck, and he slowly pulled it down. His finger skimmed along her skin as he dragged it along her spine and a chill ran through Nesta. He undid the button of her jeans and Nesta held her breath, unsure of why she felt so nervous. Cassian began to work her jeans down, but when they wouldn’t budge past her hips, he cleared his throat. “I imagined this being much more smooth, but, uhm, I can’t get your pants off.”

Nesta laughed, quietly, as she shimmied herself out of her tight jeans. He watched as she pulled herself out of her lace bodysuit, until she was bare before him. 

“Told you, no panties,” she whispered, and his answering grin had her toes curling.

“And I told you I wanted to take that off with my teeth…”

She smoothly replied, “Next time.” Cassian smirked.

With no warning, he picked her up and tossed her onto his bed, following suit and crawling up her body, pausing to taunt, tease and taste. He stopped at her breasts, unable to resist any longer as he took a peaked nipple between his lips, his fingers finding the other and rolling into slowly.

Nesta began to writhe, gripping his hair and tugging on the loose strands. The whimpers and moans falling from her lips were too much and he fisted his cock, stroking in time with the roll of his fingers. 

Her legs were wrapping up around his waist, and she pulled his body into hers. She had to be closer to him, the distance seemed too great, too far, after the words they’d spoken.

“Cassian.” She whispered his name, breathed it into the night. He looked up at her, his lips falling away from her nipple, and saw the desperate beckoning look in her eyes. He climbed up her body, covering hers with his. He moved the stray hairs from her face before taking her wrists gently into his hands and moving her arms above her head, his fingers slowly intertwining into hers.

He pressed his forehead against hers, his hardened cock pressed up between her folds. 

Her eyes remained locked with his as her fingers tightened in his own. “Make love to me, Cass,” she breathed.

His lips parted and a slow, shaky breath left his mouth, warming her own.

He slowly, torturously slowly, pushed into her, pausing when he was fully seated inside. The overwhelming fullness had Nesta breathing heavily, her chest heaving, and Cassian leaned down, pressing soft kisses to her lips. “Are you okay?” The question was no louder than a whisper, but Nesta nodded, eyes still closed.

She’d been with a few men since Tomas all those years ago. None more than a few times, as Nesta’s schedule was too busy for more than anything but a passing fling, but she’d never been dissatisfied with the sex she’d had, never been disappointed by the size of her partner.

She was ruined now, she realized as Cassian slowly pulled out and snapped his hips back into hers, for any other cock, because none could compare to the one currently inside of her. Or the man to whom it belonged.

He continued the slow, agonizing pace until Nesta began to squirm. He leaned down and kissed her, palming her breast, and asked, “What is it, sweetheart?” He never halted his thrusts, kept driving Nesta wild with each flex of his hips.

She was whimpering and groaning and writhing, and breathed, “Touch me, please.”

He picked up his pace, just barely, as his hand fell from her breast and slowly dragged down her side. Cassian pushed himself up on his knees, then, and pulled her ass onto his lap as that steady pace inside of her continued. His thumb found her clit and he circled it, slowly, as he thrust his cock in and out, his other hand gripping her ass as a guide.

Nesta threw her head back, her body flooding with that familiar warmth, and she didn’t try to quiet the moan that he pulled from her. One hand was fisted in the sheets by her head and the other replaced his, tweaking her nipple.

“God damn, baby,” he breathed, gazing down at her. Fuck, she was so beautiful, so perfect. Her full hips that he couldn’t get enough of grabbing onto. Those parted lips that drove him wild. But gods, those breasts.

Nesta reached out and ran a hand down his chest. He caught her fingers and sucked one into his mouth as she has before, biting down lightly. Her other hand had stilled on her stomach and she watched him with lust addled eyes. He gripped the other in his hand and pinned them above her head again, lifting his hips and roughly thrusting into her again and again.

She cried out, unable to form a sentence or even his name.

“You feel so good,” he breathed, fighting his growing orgasm. He wanted to bend her over his dresser, wanted to watch himself fuck her in the mirror, but she was so tight and he was so close.

A string of curses flooded his mind as his head fell back, his eyes closed, but only for a second. Nesta’s cries grew louder and he watched as her body tensed, her pussy clenching around him, squeezing his cock. He leaned back to get the perfect view as he grabbed her ass and pulled her into him as his pace quickened.

“I’m...close,” he grunted, voice straining. She was still riding out her orgasm, unable to speak, but acknowledging him with a nod. He kept pounding into her, watching the way her breasts bounced with her every thrust until his head fell back again and he grunted out, “I’m about to come.”

He expected her to scoot back so he could come on her stomach or her tits. He wouldn’t have even been surprised if she took him into her mouth to finish him off.

He didn’t expect her to tighten her legs around him and hold him in place. He didn’t expect the frantic nod she gave him when their eyes connected, question written clear across his face. He didn’t expect the quietly whimpered, “Please,” as he thrust into her one final time before his release barreled through him, vision going white as he came harder than he ever had before.

Cassian groaned as he came, filling her up, quick, hard thrusts continuing long after her pussy had milked him for his last drop.

He fell down against her, his cock still inside of her as his sweaty, hard body covered hers. She wrapped his arms around his neck as they tried to catch their breaths. Neither of them said a word in the silence as they clung to one another..

Cassian was about to get up when Nesta breathed, “No, just…stay here, please.”

He nodded, pressing his lips to her neck. He rolled them, so she was lying on top of him, rather than the other way around, and he dragged a lazy finger up and down her back.

“Shit,” he said, letting loose a deep breath. “That was the-.”

“Best orgasm you’ve ever had?” She finished.

He nodded, head sinking deeper into his pillow as he wrapped his arms around her tighter. “You took the words out of my mouth.”

One of his hands dipped lower, cupping her ass. They laid there in a careful silence, enjoying feeling each other’s body against the other, when Cass finally said, “Don’t you need to go…clean up?” He let his hand slip lower until he could feel their mixed essences dripping out of her.

He was still inside of her and she could have sworn that she felt him harden, just the slightest.

She shook her head, nestling into his chest. “In a minute. I can’t get pregnant.”

The hand on her back stilled. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

Nesta’s body tensed as his hand froze. She slowly leaned up to meet his gaze. “Can’t.”

She waited for Cassian to say something, anything, but he didn’t. Yet the hand on her back began to move up and down her skin once more.

She laid back on his chest and closed her eyes. “I was told years ago I won’t be able to have children.”

Her voice was quiet, and for once, she found herself afraid to say it. She hadn’t ever really wanted kids, hadn’t really ever thought about settling down and starting a family.

But when she said the words to Cassian, a little bit of a heavy feeling settled into the pit of her stomach.

Having a family hadn’t been in the cards for her before. If she was too busy to have a boyfriend, how was she supposed to figure out how to juggle a child and her restaurants? So when she found out at twenty-two that she would never be a mother, she didn’t even dwell on it, hadn’t given herself time to be sad about it, or think about what that really meant.

But for Cassian, the words were a blow. He’d grown up alone, in every sense of the word. Before his mother died, she was always working nights. She would be asleep when he left for school, and would have to be at work by five. He saw very little of her. Barely knew the woman who he’d laid in the ground before his thirteenth birthday.

He’d always dreamed of having a huge family, at least three kids, maybe even four. He’d even let himself imagine what their kids might look like, with his tanned complexion, and her striking eyes. But in a moment, that dream was gone.

“Please say something,” she whispered.

Cassian nodded, although she wasn’t looking at him. “Sorry. Just surprised.” He kept his voice quiet. “It’s okay.”

What else was he supposed to say? He loved her, still, and voicing his disappointment would just upset her, and what would erase all the progress that had just been made.

He turned her head to face him. She kept her eyes closed. “Look at me,” he whispered. She opened her eyes, and a tear slid down her cheek and landed on his chest. “I love you. Okay? It’s okay.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Why are you crying?”

She shrugged lightly and said, “I didn’t even think I wanted children. When I found out, I was in culinary school and I didn’t have time for kids, nor did I have a good relationship with my family, so I thought it was a blessing in disguise and…” She sniffled and closed her eyes again, as another tear fell. “Now, things are different and I feel...broken.”

Cassian let out a breath as he pulled her in closer, holding her tightly against him. “It’s okay,” he repeated.

She wiped at her eyes against his chest before burying her face into his skin. 

They laid like that for hours, clinging to one another, Cassian telling her that he loved her over and over again, as if he couldn’t say it enough, as if he was afraid that she didn’t believe her.

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him.

It’s that she didn’t think she deserved it.

[pixieposts]

Bad Things Bingo

AO3

The first fill I did for my BTHB card was: Mouth Stitched Shut!

TWs: Description of injuries Blood Referenced PTSD symptoms

Fjord paced the dinning room again, the same way he had every day for the last month. If he wasn’t pacing then he was searching, and if he wasn’t searching than he was training. Anything to trick his brain into believing they were making some kind of progress towards getting Caleb back.

“You’re going to wear a groove into the floor.”

“We should just go get him”

“He’s in literally the most secure place in the Empire Fjord, you remember how well that went last time.”

“We got out, didn’t we? He’d do it for us!”

“I’m with Fjord on this one” Beau growled from the where she was sitting with her feet up on the table “we managed it last time, we can do it again.”

“We barely managed it last time” Jester corrected her, taking her hand gently “we could totally have died in there, we almost got stuck.”

He felt the frustration burn in his chest; they were missing the point! Beau was the only one who got it, the fact that they knew how bad the place was made it even more important that they go.

“Yeah, and how do you think—”

Before he could finish his sentence, there was a familiar popping sound from the front hall. They looked at each other briefly before jumping up and bolting for the door. Standing in the hall were three figures, well, two were standing while they held the other up. Fjord summoned Star Razor immediately, stepping closer to the trio.

“Wait” Eodwulf’s voice was rough, almost desperate “please, we cannot stay, or he will notice our absence.”

They stepped forward, pushing the unconscious Caleb towards him as he dropped Star Razor back into the ether. He caught Caleb, wrapping an arm tightly around him and supporting his weight as he slumped against Fjord's chest.

“Please, we got him out as soon as we could, help him.”

“Wha—” Beau started forward, but before she could reach them, they had disappeared again.

Fjord paused for a moment as the air settled, Caleb’s scarf fluttering slightly on the hook it still occupied. Caleb stirred slightly against him, and he tightened his hold automatically, leaning to lift Caleb into his arms.

“Fucking hells” Beau cursed, and Fjord couldn’t help but agree.

Caleb looked awful, deathly pale with deep bruising around his eyes. He was lighter than usual, the bones of his hands clearly defined. It looked as though his nose had been broken and reset at least once, and there was dried blood all over his face and in his hair. The worst part by far though… the part that made Fjords stomach flip in distress and disgust, was his mouth.

Someone (he was sure he knew who) had stitched it closed with some kind of rough spun black cord. Nine neat X’s all the way across, with more blood dried all around it, and dark bruises around each of the punctures.

There was a gagging noise from beside him as Beau looked Caleb over, and a horrified gasp from Jester on his other side. He turned, looking them both in the eye to make sure they would follow, then made his way to the happy room. He laid Caleb on the couch as gently as he could, worried about any unseen injuries he might have hidden under the tattered clothes.

“Beau, get Caduceus… Jester, grab the healers kit from the kitchen, would you?”

They ran off, Beau towards the garden and Jester back down the stairs, as Fjord got Caleb as comfortable as he could. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, draping it over Caleb’s shivering form, and tucked his messy hair back behind his ears. Heat seemed to radiate off his skin, and Fjord worried about the possibility of infection. He felt a tug in his chest, a tight sort of pain at the sight of Caleb lying like this. They had been through a lot together, literal death a few times… but there was something particularly difficult about seeing just how much he had been through alone. He hadn’t had any of them to help, no one to lean on or turn to… they had failed him.

Jester got back first, kneeling next to him and popping open the kit. Fjord reached in, grabbing the sharp gauze scissors that were kept in there.

“Oooh” Jester whispered “good idea Fjord! The kitchen scissors are way too big for…for…”

She trailed off, going pale as the reality of Caleb’s issue hit her yet again. Fjord rubbed a hand down her back soothingly for a moment before turning back towards Caleb. He took a breath, steadying his hand as he slid the thin scissor blade under the first X, relieved to see that it fit… though just barely. He was too nervous to try and cut the center of the X, so he settled for just snipping the threads individually. He was halfway through the second one when there was a pounding of feet from the hallway. He held his breath as Jester jumped up, throwing open the door and shushing the others. Caleb didn’t need his hand to slip and add another scar to this new collection. He felt Caduceus and Jester settle next to him again and heard a horrified gasp that he recognized as Veth. Beau was whispering now, explaining what had happened he assumed, but he ignored them. It likely only took a few minutes for him to finished snipping through the cords, but it felt like much longer as he worked from one end of Caleb’s mouth to the other. Jester took the scissors from him and handed him a pair of tweezers automatically. He nodded his thanks and set to work carefully removing the now-loose strings.

Caleb winced as he tugged the middle ones out, brows furrowing in discomfort. Fjord heard himself apologizing, whispering nonsense as he kept going. The others were silent now, watching as he dropped the blood crusted strings to the floor. Finally, finally, it was done.

He sat back, moving on reluctant legs so that Jester could start healing the re-opened punctures. He watched with relief as they closed over, and the other bruises and cuts faded into nothing. Caduceus had stepped in to help as well, healing unseen injuries along Caleb’s torso and limbs, frowning in concern. Once they had done all they could, they stepped back, nodding to the others. They all crowded around the couch, and Fjord reached out, gently pressing a hand to his forehead. The fever he had felt before was gone, and Caleb’s face had relaxed.

“Now what?” Veth asked quietly “he’s still out…”

“He’s been through a lot, maybe we should move him to his bed?” Caduceus mused, looking at Fjord.

He felt a slight shock at being so directly asked what to do… but he shook it off and nodded at Caduceus.

“Yeah, yeah that seems like a good idea… at least he’ll be more comfortable.”

That decided, they stepped back and allowed him space to scoop Caleb up again as gently as he could. Despite his care, Caleb stirred in his arms, eyes fluttering open with a grimace. Everyone froze for a moment as Caleb stared at him, blinking slowly.

“H-hey there Cay… you can go back to sleep if you want, you’re safe now.”

Blue eyes, hazy and confused, stared into his for a moment more before Caleb nodded once, turned his face to press against Fjords shoulder, and shut his eyes again. Fjord stood still as his breathing slowed and evened out, half of him glad that Caleb trusted him enough to fall back to sleep… and half even more concerned about just how much he had gone through in order to be this out of it. He led the group back down the stairs, pausing at the library door so Veth could slip past and open it for him, then open the door to Caleb’s room as well. As he walked in, Veth pulled down the sheets and laid out extra pillows, watching him with concern as he laid Caleb out and pulled the blankets up. He caught her eye and nodded, forcing a tight smile onto his face which she returned. If there was one thing they agreed on, it was keeping Caleb safe and comfortable.

They filed back out of the room, leaving both doors ajar automatically and heading for the dinning room again.

“I’ll go make some tea I think.”

“Wine, definitely wine” Beau added, following Caduceus to the kitchen “to drink… not to make, um...”

The rest of them sat around the large table, expressions ranging from stoic and concerned, to just plain sad. Fjord took a deep breath, sighing as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. There was nothing else they could do right now, they just had to wait for Caleb to be up and ready to talk.

“This sucks, it just really really sucks you know?” Jester glared at her sketchbook “I am going to send Astrid such a mean message when I figure out what to say.”

“At least they brought him back” Veth ventured “but… yeah, definitely send her something mean… yell at her in infernal or something.”

“I would like to go pay them a visit” Yasha said, her voice that dangerous level of quiet “go and thank them for everything they did.”

“Well, I guess we don’t really know that they like… actually did any of it right? Maybe it was all Icky-Thong”

“Doubt it.”

There was another space of silence as Beau re-emerged with two bottles of wine and a plate covered in glasses. Fjord took one with a nod, sipping slowly at it as Jester went back to writing, occasionally showing the page to Veth. They had been sitting there, talking quietly and trying to calm their nerves for just over an hour when they heard it.

A scream, blood curdling and terrified.

Fjord and Beau were fastest up, both out the door towards the library and Caleb’s room. They burst through and Fjord felt like his heart would break. Caleb had stopped screaming, a hand pressed firmly over his mouth as he sat up in bed with his back to the corner, eyes wide in the dark. Beau lit a candle on the desk as Fjord approached the bed slowly, hands outstretched.

“Alright, you’re alright Cay… we’ve got you, you’re home. Just—just breathe with me okay?”

Caleb stared at him for a moment, fear evident in his face before moving his hand and copying Fjords slow, even breathing. Veth climbed up onto the bed, reaching a hand out questioningly. Caleb seemed skittish but reached a shaking hand back to her slowly. Fjord sat on the edge of the bed, trying to calm his own racing heart as Beau let out a sigh from where she was leaning against the desk. Caduceus walked in, setting a cup of tea quietly on the bedside table and offering Caleb a small smile.

“Perhaps we should ah… take turns saying hello? I think we might be a bit overwhelming all at once.”

“Good idea” Yasha stepped forward, patting Caleb’s knee lightly before whispering a soft “welcome back” and heading out into the library.

Slowly the others did similar, making sure not to move too suddenly, until it was just Caleb, Fjord and Veth left in the room. Fjord watched Caleb the whole time, concern growing like a buzz in his head. Caleb hadn’t spoken a word since he had woken the first time… the only sound he had made was that ungodly scream.

“Is that okay?” Fjord indicated the space next to Caleb on the bed, waiting until he nodded before moving to sit there “Can I get you anything? Does anything hurt?”

Caleb shook his head, but looked down, worrying his bottom lip until it started to bleed and Fjord put out a hand to stop him.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you—are you upset that we didn’t get there faster? I’m so sorry Caleb, we tried but that place is hell to get into and—well you know that I guess—I… I’m just so fucking sorry you had to go through that again.”

Caleb looked back up at him, shaking his head slightly, and Fjord felt his chest constrict. Of course he would be upset with them, they had left him with that monster. Left him to suffer and be in pain all alone again. Caleb seemed to read his expression, because his eyes went wide and he shook his head harder, placing his free hand on Fjords knee and squeezing gently.

“Talk to me Cay, tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours” Fjord pleaded “I want to help.”

Caleb sighed, focussing on where his hand met Fjords leg for a moment. Fjord could tell by his expression that he was trying to decide on something. Eventually, he nodded to himself and looked back up at Fjord. His expression was… almost apologetic, and Fjord was confused.

Until he opened his mouth.

Fjord felt nausea rise in his stomach instantly, followed very closely by a wave of unimaginable anger. Fjord had been angry before, had felt that surge of heat that lead to a particularly good punch or the end of an enemies life… but he had never felt anything like this.

“Veth… go get Jester, quickly”

“What? Why? I thought they--”

“The fucker cut out his tongue Veth”

Veth gave an indignant shriek that made Caleb jump and curl in on himself, mouth snapping shut. Fjord reached out without thinking, wrapping an arm around him and rubbing up and down his arm. Veth’s whispered apologies where the only sound for a few minutes before she climbed off the bed and headed for the library. Fjord pulled Caleb in tighter, squeezing his bicep gently.

“It’s gonna be okay Cay, we’ll get this sorted out, you’re gonna be okay.”

Caleb had stopped shaking by the time Jester poked her head around the doorframe, concern on her face. The look she gave Fjord told him that Veth had explained what was going on already, so he sent her a tight smile. She walked in with much less energy than she usually would have, perching on the bed the way Fjord had initially.

“Hey there Cay-leb” she singsonged quietly “do you might if I take a look? I’m totally sure that me and the Traveller can fix you right up, but I just need to see the um… the damage.”

Fjord felt Caleb go still next to him, and then the light movement of him nodding slowly before he leaned away from him. Relief washed over Jesters face and she scooted closer, carefully concealing whatever negative reaction the sight of Caleb’s tongueless mouth caused in her. She inspected it for a moment, then nodded slightly.

“Oookay, the Traveller totally says we can fix this up… but it might be sort of uncomfortable, okay?”

Caleb sent her a look that clearly indicated that he was already uncomfortable, so this couldn’t be much worse. She smiled at him, a softer version of her usual beam, and laid her fingertips against his cheek.

“Promise my hands are like super-duper clean.”

He closed his mouth but nodded. Fjord could have sworn he could feel the nervous energy coming off Caleb. He moved close again, setting a hand between Caleb’s shoulder blades. Caleb’s eyes darted to him, and he could see gratefulness there… but also fear. Fjord frowned slightly, Caleb wasn’t afraid of pain, he had never shied away from it before… And he had definitely never been nervous about healing. Something was wrong, it set Fjords nerves on edge, either some kind of instinct or just having spent so much time around Caleb made him certain this was—there was something very wrong.

As the pink and green glimmer of Jesters magic started, the fear in Caleb's eyes only grew more pronounced. His hand flew out and clung to Fjord's knee as his breathing picked up speed. Fjord rubbed his back, feeling at a complete loss as he watched the panic set in. Caleb’s heartbeat was pounding rabbit-fast beneath his skin, his pupils dilating in too-wide eyes. Not knowing what else to do, Fjord set his free hand over where Caleb’s was clinging to his knee. Caleb gripped it tight, and he squeezed back when Caleb’s nails bit into the skin of his palm. After two minutes the glimmer faded and Jester pulled her hands away. There were tears on her cheeks now as Caleb flinched away from her, still breathing too fast. Fjord sent her a grateful look, and she sniffled as she responded with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry Caleb” she whispered as she stood up “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Caleb was shaking now, shifting back towards the wall with Fjord's hand still clutched in his own. Fjord turned to Jester and shook his head.

“You’re alright Jes, I don’t think even he knew… you know he doesn’t mean it”

“I—yeah I totally do, I just don’t want him to be like… scared of me” she looked at Caleb, then back to Fjord “I’m gonna go, let him calm down and stuff”

“Okay, thanks Jes.”

She left, closing the door behind her with a soft click, and Fjord turned to fully face Caleb on the bed. The semi-darkness of the room cast him in shadow, tucked away in the corner like he was, blue eyes glowing in the candlelight. Fjord shifted forward slightly, moving into Caleb’s space and taking his other hand gently.

“Can you talk to me Cay?”

Caleb opened and shut his mouth a few times, before shaking his head with another violent shiver. Fjord could see easily enough that Jesters spell had worked… but the panic was still in his eyes. He chewed his lip for a moment, then nodded slowly.

“Okay, that’s alright darlin’ you don’t have to talk. Let’s just breathe a bit yeah? Nice and slow” Fjord demonstrated and smiled when Caleb started to copy him “there, just like that. Squeeze my hands if you need to, I’ve got you.”

It took the better part of a half hour before Caleb was calm again, his hands loose in Fjords. Fjord smiled encouragingly at him, earning a small smile in return.

“That better?”

Caleb nodded, then looked down at the bed. Fjord could see the colour rising in his cheeks and held back a sigh.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about Cay, you’ve been through hell again… there was no way to know how you would react.”

Caleb looked up at him with an expression that, to Fjord anyway, clearly said he surprised and confused by Fjord picking up on why he was embarrassed. Fjord just smiled again, feeling his own expression soften as it so often did around Caleb.

“We spend enough time together; I know what you’re like.” He chuckled as Caleb glared half-heartedly, lips pursed in a familiar annoyed expression “Don’t give me that face, I’m right and you know it. Now c’mon, you should eat something if you’re feeling up to it.”

Caleb nodded, allowing Fjord to support him as they stood up. He went to open the door, only to feel a slight tug on his other hand. He turned to find Caleb standing very close and tried to slow his heartbeat. Now was not the time for silly infatuation, Caleb was going through enough. He focussed on Caleb’s expression, on the subtle way his eyebrows quirked, the tightness in his jaw.

“They won’t mind Cay, they’re just glad to have you back same as me. We were worried sick while you were gone and… well, if you’re not up to talking yet then don’t talk. We’ll make it work right?”

His jaw relaxed, and Fjord felt the brush of the familiar scar across his palm.

“We understand each other”

Caleb’s eyes widened minutely, and he seemed to be searching Fjord's expression. For a moment, he was certain he had given himself away… but as usual the moment passed, and Caleb just nodded. The others had moved from the library it seemed, but once they got into the hallway the sound of hushed voices reached their ears. Caleb’s hand slipped from his as they reached the entryway, and Fjord fought down a disappointed sigh, leading the way in. The others were clustered around the table, most sitting in chairs, but some sitting on the table in stead. They looked up uncertainly, tentative smiles all around (other than Caduceus, who wore his usual serene expression). Caleb shrank back slightly, bumping into Fjord's chest in the process.

“Good news Jes, it worked.”

“That’s super awesome Caleb, I’m glad” her smile still wasn’t quite it’s usual brightness, tempered by the apologetic look in her eyes “I really am sorry I scared you though, really.”

Fjord watched as Caleb shook his head smiling ruefully, he didn’t blame her of course. Fjord figured he was probably still blaming himself for whatever that bastard Ikithon had done. The concerned looks had returned to everyone’s faces when Caleb didn’t immediately respond. Fjord steered him towards the table, pulling out a chair next to Cad and smiling encouragingly at him.

“I’m starved, I’m gonna grab something for both of us from the kitchen.”

“I’ll help” Beau said immediately, standing to follow him.

He looked back over his shoulder to see Caleb watching him, brows furrowed and hands fidgeting in his lap. He felt a tug of guilt in his chest, but he pushed it down, he was just getting lunch… not abandoning him with enemies. Beau’s arm crossed his vision, shutting the door and blocking his view of the dinning room.

“What the fuck happened?”

“No idea… well—” he paused “I have some theories… but he hasn’t confirmed anything.”

“Has he said anything since he freaked out at Jester?”

“Nothing, and I don’t plan to push him to do so.”

She stared at him, sharp eyes searching his face as he crossed his arms and frowned. He meant it; he wasn’t going to push Caleb. Clearly, he had been through enough, he didn’t need them pressuring him too. Beau seemed to come to the same conclusion, sighing and turning to grab some food out of the icebox.

“Fine, yeah. He’ll talk when he’s ready I guess.” She handed him a plate “and until then I guess we just—”

The door to the kitchen flew open with a loud crack, and Caleb stood, eyes wide and face pale. Fjord set the plate down and stepped towards Caleb.

“Cay…”

Caleb just shook his head; he was shaking all over again and Fjords heart sank at the sight. What the hell had Ikithon done to him? Beau took the plates and stepped past them, whispering a quiet word to Caleb as she did.

“What happened?” Fjord asked, stepping closer slowly “Cay?”

Caleb swallowed and looked behind him, towards the table where the others were still sitting. Veth was standing next to where Caleb had been, holding his spell book and component pouch. Fjord furrowed his brow and turned back to Caleb.

“Want us to put those away for a while?”

Caleb gave one jerky nod, wrapping his arms around his own torso protectively as his eyes wandered back to the book he had loved for as long as Fjord had known him. Fjord wondered just how many times a persons heart could break on another’s behalf.

“Alright, come sit down and try to eat something… I’ll go put them away.”

Caleb looked back at him, blue eyes full of an awful mix of sadness and gratitude. Beau came back over, tugging Caleb over to where she had sat the plates and sitting with him. Fjord made his way to Veth, who held out the book and pouch sadly.

“I… thought he would be happy to have them back… I found them in the front hall after Eodwulf and Astrid poofed.”

“It’s not your fault, he usually would have loved it… whatever Ikithon did this time around really fucked with him” he paused, settling a hand on her shoulder “you did a kind thing Veth, I think he just needs some comfort right now, no one does that as well as you.”

She gave him a weak smile but headed over to where Caleb and Beau were sitting. He left the room, pausing in the hall to try and decide where the best spot to put them away. He made his way into the library, scouted out a spot high up enough that Caleb wouldn’t notice it without actively looking. Temporary contraband stowed away, he found himself moving immediately back to the dining room. There was a pull, stronger than even his usual pull towards Caleb; some deep-rooted instinct that was yelling at him to get back there.

He needs you.

----

A week went by, and Caleb still wouldn’t speak.

Jester and Veth were beside themselves, trying to coax him into it as kindly as possible, while Yasha and Beau had taken to trying to work with him. Admittedly, working with him looked different for each of them.

Yasha would sit in the quiet with him and learned to respond to a lot of the non-verbal cues he had developed; they had taken to spending the afternoons in the garden with Cad, who also seemed fine to just let Caleb sit.

Beau took a more… active role, vocalizing anything that the others hadn’t picked up on yet, and having conversations with him despite being the only one talking.

The one habit they had all picked up, without exception, was coming to Fjord when they weren’t able to understand or help Caleb themselves. When he spaced out and couldn’t be contacted? Fjord. When he would start to shake around anything arcane? Fjord.

When his eyes went glassy and his breathing picked up, and no one could calm him? Yep, Fjord.

Not that Fjord minded, he had taken to sleeping in the library in fact, just to be sure that he was there when (not if: when) Caleb woke screaming.

The screams and incoherent Zemnian babbling in the dark of the night were the only sounds he had made.

Fjord worried, he worried about Caleb’s sleep, and he worried about Caleb’s eating (he wasn’t doing enough of it, in Fjord's opinion). He worried about the awful, banded scars around his wrists, and the tiny puncture scars around his lips. The scarring didn’t seem to hurt, but Fjord had never liked seeing new ones on the wizard to begin with.

They had quiet moments too of course, Fjord would sit with Caleb pressed against his side while they read or go for little walks around the neighborhood. As long as Fjord was there, Caleb seemed calm. He tried not to look too deep into that fact, this wasn’t the time for it.

Near the end of the first week, Essek came by. Luckily, Beau caught him at the door and seemed to go over everything with him. The concern on his face was visible even from the other room as he immediately stopped floating, popped his bag into existence, and hung up his mantel before coming in.

“Good evening everyone, I hope I am not interrupting?”

There was a general call of greeting from the others assembled there, even Caleb looked up and offered a small smile. Essek came and sat down, searching Caleb’s face for a moment before smiling sadly at him.

“It is good to see you back Caleb, I am sorry I did not come to say hello sooner.”

Caleb smiled back and shook his head in a way that said Essek shouldn’t worry about it, which he seemed to understand.

“I brought… well, I brought a few things over, but I worry this may not be a good time for them now…” pale purple eyes turned to Fjord questioningly, and he shrugged. The only way to find out was to try. Essek nodded, reaching into the bag and pulling out a stack of three books. He laid them tentatively in front of Caleb, who eyed them curiously. Fjord felt his heart skip at the sight, Caleb looked almost like himself again.

“This one” Essek taped the first book “is a rare history of the Dynasty, before the Calamity” he shuffled the book off to the side “this one… you may not like right now, but please feel free to hold onto it as long as you like. It is a book of Dunamancy, higher levels than we had been working on before.” He paused to see how Caleb would react, and the whole room seemed to hold its breath.

But… Caleb picked it up, examining the inlaid title for a moment before turning to give Essek another tentative smile.

There was a collective release of breath, and Fjord rubbed his hand up and down Caleb’s spine briefly in congratulations. Essek was beaming, or as close to it as he ever got, and he reached out to tap the last book. It was plain black leather, well made but with no title across the front.

“This one… well, it is nothing quite so exciting I suppose, but I noticed that your secondary notebook seemed to be getting full last time we were together. The paper is not spell quality, but as a journal or for note taking before transcription…” he trailed off, cheeks a darker purple than usual and eyes locked on the cover of the smaller book.

“Thank you.”

Caleb’s voice shocked the room, it was rough from disuse, and quieter than usual. But he was looking at Essek, smiling at him, as he traded the magic tome for the empty notebook. He fought back a frown at the way Essek’s face brightened as he nodded. Caleb looked down, the rounded tips of his ears going red as he pulled the book to his chest protectively.

Fjord didn’t get jealous, he didn’t.

He just… maybe he did a little bit.

----

Three more weeks, it had been a month in total since Caleb came home.

Things had improved, at least a little bit.

He still didn’t speak most of the time, still woke in the night screaming, and hadn’t cast so much as Dancing Lights. But... most of the time is not the same as always, or never. He spoke to Fjord in the night, when he couldn’t sleep, and Fjord would sit holding him the same way he had that first day. He told him of his nightmares, a few snippets of what had happened to him bleeding through into his unconscious mind. It hurt to hear, but Fjord listened.

One such night, Fjord sat with his arm wrapped snug around Caleb's shoulders, and his free hand clenched in both of Caleb's, humming softly as he came back to himself. It had been a bad one, Fjord knew that by the way Caleb had hidden from him, tucked deep into the farthest corner of his bed and barely visible in the dark room.

“I... I am sorry Fjord”

He still whispered most of the time, and Fjord's name sounded more like a prayer than anything else.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for Cay, you know that”

“You say it, but I--” he stopped, hand twitching slightly around Fjords “I still... I am not--”

“You’re not who you were when they took you?”

“How can I be?”

“Without magic? Or with the added nightmares? Or because talking is difficult?”

Caleb shrugged against him as if to say all of the above and Fjord nodded.

“I get that, but here’s the thing Cay” he pulled away slightly, so he could look him in the eyes “you’re still you. I know you don’t feel like it right now, but that’s alright. You didn’t feel like you when you met Veth did you? Or when you met us, all covered in mud and just looking for any excuse to run off.” He leaned it, resting his forehead against Caleb's “I still see the same good man I saw back on the ocean, I still see the ridiculous genius who can backwards engineer magic he didn’t even know existed weeks before. You’re still here darlin’, I see you, you’ve just hidden for a bit” he smiled slightly as Caleb's cheeks darkened “no one blames you for tucking yourself away, and we’ll be here when you’re ready to come back to yourself.”

He leaned back, giving Caleb more space to think over what he had said. His thumb was tracing little swishing movements against the inside of Fjords wrist as he thought, until he finally spoke again.

“If I cannot?”

“Then we’ll help you figure out who this new Caleb is, and love you just the same”

Caleb's lips parted in a little “o” of surprise, and Fjords heart seemed to constrict in his chest as the surprise shifted into a small, grateful smile.

“Danke Fjord, truly”

“Anytime sweetheart”

----

Something shifted after that night, some fearful part of Caleb seemed eased. He tried to talk more, spent more time out of the house with the others. He even started casting again, small spells like Dancing Lights and Find Familiar at first... but that was something. Frumpkin had been overjoyed to be back with his master and followed Caleb everywhere. The mood of the house had lightened extraordinarily, Caleb’s growing happiness infecting everyone. He had picked up the Dunamancy book, and read through it in a day, even making notes on which spells he wanted to discuss with Essek later. Fjord had come to terms with the fact that once Caleb was feeling more himself, their nighttime talks would end... along with the comfortable closeness that they had developed.

Simply put, Caleb wouldn’t need him anymore.

That thought was bittersweet, because of course he was overjoyed to see Caleb healing, talking, casting... doing all the things that made him happy and made him feel like himself again. But if he was honest, and he could be honest with himself at least, he would miss the way Caleb turned to him when he was looking to be understood, or comforted...or held. He would miss that quiet intimacy of always knowing what he was thinking.

Of course, he mused as he flicked through one of the few fiction books they owned one evening, he would still know most of the time... the thing he would miss would be the ability to act on it. The chance to reach out.

He sighed, turning the page and debating just heading to bed early. He would have to start sleeping in his own room again, he supposed.

“May I join you?”

Fjord looked up and smiled, nodding at Caleb as he smiled back. He settled on the couch next to Fjord, who balanced his book on his knee and threw one arm over the back of the couch. Caleb shifted close, book in his lap as he leaned over to peek at what he had been reading.

“Fairytales?”

“Wasn’t in the mood for history, and you know your magic books are incomprehensible to the rest of us” he teased, turning to look into eyes that only looked more magical up close “so, fairytales it is”

“A good choice” he said quietly, reaching out to tap the page “though I never thought you were much of a romantic”

“I could be, if the opportunity arose”

“It has not?” there was a teasing tone to his voice now, matching the little smirk “I am surprised”

Fjord shrugged, there wasn’t much he could say here without just completely giving himself away... if he hadn’t already. Caleb searched his face, and his expression softened before he shifted to lean against Fjords side and opened his own book. They read quietly for a while, the soft sound of pages turning and the crackle of the fireplace the only noise. Maybe he could still have this after all? Caleb seemed just as comfortable as he had lately, maybe these quiet moments could continue.

“I... have been thinking about what you said” Caleb whispered, his hand stilling on the page “about seeing who I am now” he clarified.

“Oh? Do you have some ideas?”

“I think I am... who I was, to a point” he shifted to look up at Fjord “but I have been thinking...”

“You’ve always done a lot of that” Fjord teased, letting the fondness slip into his voice

“Ha-ha” Caleb poked his thigh and rolled his eyes “I mean specifically about—about changes, and how much this has shown me about what I want to be”

“And what is that?”

“Yours”

Fjord stared; eyes wide as he processed the statement. He had to have misheard, or Caleb meant something else or... but Caleb was smiling at him, waiting as the gears turned in his head. Caleb was giving him the same look that Fjord knew he wore when he knew exactly what was going on in Caleb’s head.

“Mine?”

“Yes, if you’ll have me” he stated, rather than asking.

“That wasn’t a question”

“I know”

Bright, sparkling warm joy bubbled in his chest and he found himself smiling along with Caleb as he leaned in and rested their foreheads together. They sat that way for a moment, before Caleb tilted his head forward and captured Fjord with a kiss. Fjord slid the hand that had been on the back of the couch up into Caleb's hair to cup the back of his head as one of Caleb’s hands came to rest against his jaw. The warm slide of their lips had Fjord's head spinning, and by the time they broke apart he was sure he had forgotten how to breathe. Caleb smiled at him fondly, thumb stroking his cheekbone lightly as he spoke:

“Then we understand each other.”

“We always do.”

[poesparakeet-fics]

The hurt/comfort fill from the prompt votes. (Accepting submissions re: names. The prompt Olympics? But you don't really vote for the Olympics. Idk. Help.)

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Summary:

After the Mighty Nein are saved by some of Caleb’s most dangerous spell craft, they’re left to nurse their repeatedly self-sacrificing wizard back to health. In the end, they give him everything he asks for and more. For his own good, of course.

This one’s SFW, so the whole text is under the break. Or go read it on AO3! You have options!

The Nuclear Option

For once, the Mighty Nein were ready.

They knew what the spell could do. They’d run drills on how to use it, this hair-trigger safety net of destruction. Caleb made them practice the dry-run over and over. So when it happened for real, this time, they were ready. Unlike most of the plans the Mighty Nein concocted, this one went off without a hitch.

They were a mile underground if they were an inch. More chittering voices were flooding in from all sides. Beau and Veth were down, balanced in a still-raging Yasha’s arms as she tore herself away from battle at the sound of Caleb’s voice.

“Nein! Gather!”

With Yasha carrying the two unconscious women, they all made it to his side, grouped carefully close with Caleb at the centre, hands pressed over their ears. 

“Foris” The incantation was followed by  a moment of vacuous silence, like all the sound had been sucked out of the air. Light seemed to collect on Caleb’s skin until he was a pillar of radiance, and then–

Boom.

The sound rattled in their skulls even as they were magically sucked away from it. All the air was gone, it was hard to breath, each heartbeat could be felt in their temples. Then relief. Breathing and tumbling onto soft carpet. Jester was crying. Caduceus was doing a headcount.

“We’re good,” He pants, “we have everyone. Here, uh, I’ve just got little stuff but we can rest now.” He started to cast, and Beau’s eyes fluttered open while Yasha kissed her hair.

“Don’t use them on Caleb!” Jester cried, “Don’t forget, they’ll hurt him!”

“No, no, just these two. Someone put the wizard in a bed, get the water boiling…” He cast on Veth, too, who popped up a moment later.

Mollymauk, perhaps the most hurt out of all those who made the trip conscious, collapsed on his back on one of the hearthside furs with a pained groan. Yasha crawled over a moment later, leaving a recovering Beau to gulp from a waterskin. She laid her hands on him, and a few of his smallest injuries healed up. 

“Oh…” He groaned. “Thank you, love.”

“Might as well use them on someone.” Their eyes met in mirrored worry. 

In the meantime, Veth had crawled over to Caleb and cradled his head. The problem with turning yourself into a planar bomb was really all in the side-effects. Caleb was unconscious. His lips were blue and frost gathered at the corners of his hairline and on his lashes. Arcane sparks were still shooting along his skin, following the path of his vascular system. Any additional magic now had a decent chance of stopping his heart, or worse.

Fjord started to build a better fire and boil water. Their little safehouse had a long, wide hearth surrounded by fine fur bedrolls and fluffy pillows. One large wooden bed lined the back wall, and a kitchen table long enough to fit them all filled the far end.

A fretting Jester dragged Caleb over to the large bed closest to the hearth, hurriedly pulling his coat off. Every piece of fabric she tugged away was frozen stiff, and when she got down to the last layers she grew gentle, worried for his skin.

Veth hopped up on the bed next to them, yanking the blankets down to make room. Together they bundled him in. Veth grabbed furs from nearest the hearth and piled them on top too. 

Fjord appeared with several rubber-stoppered skins in his arms, each filled with hot water. He pulled back the blankets to place one on Caleb’s chest and arrange the others around him before tucking the wizard back in and pulling the still-sniffling Jester into his arms. 

“All here.” He murmured into her hair. “All alive.”

Caduceus sat down on the opposite edge of the bed, his hands reaching for Caleb’s underneath the covers to press icy fingers between his warm palms. Caleb’s breathing hitched into what could have been a sigh of comfort. 

The game was waiting, now. Something they were not used to, having travelled for so long with two powerful clerics. They ate, some of them bathed, and they fell into an exhausted silence.

Caduceus worked carefully, applying a balm to frostbitten fingers and toes, as well as Caleb’s nose and ears for good measure. 

Veth helped Caduceus before curling up at the foot of the bed, just like the old days.

Jester and Fjord sat next to him on the bed, her entirely in his arms, both watching and waiting. Catching their breath.

Beau lay collapsed and half-asleep by the hearth, Yasha sitting next to her with one big hand slowly, rhythmically rubbing her back.

Mollymauk crawled under the covers with Caleb, fresh from a steaming bath with all of his already-plentiful infernal body heat. It earned them their first real sign of stirring when he tugged Caleb into his arms and the man mumbled in unintelligible Zemnian through a relieved sigh.

The little sound was enough to make them all look up. Something about it broke the heavy, cold feeling of waiting, and let the rush of relief that they’d all made it and they were all alive pour through.

Caduceus made tea. 

Veth started to snore.

Jester wiped her eyes and crawled out of Fjord’s lap to take a bath. Then she put her warm self on Caleb’s other side, Fjord budging up behind her.

Yasha lay down next to Beau, letting the monk wrap around her while she pulled the furs across them both with a sigh.

Molly shivered for a bit in the burrowing embrace of a frozen, half-dead wizard before Caleb’s skin temperature evened out, as did everyone’s breathing. They slept.

The bed wasn’t actually big enough for four people, was the thing. It’s what led to Fjord rolling out of bed in the morning with a groan, one hand moving to support his back as he hobbled over to the dining table where tea and toast was starting to make an appearance. Jester followed, a healing word passing between them with a chuckle.

Mollymauk woke at the commotion and witnessed the fluttering of bright blue eyes from the wizard drooling on his chest. It took a second for Caleb’s eyes to focus, his gaze meeting Molly’s..

“Hello!” Molly murmured quietly. 

“Hi.” Caleb returned, face twisting into a grimace the second he tried to move.

Molly supported him by the shoulders to help him get comfortable. He moved like a rusted Golem, every joint and muscle pulling a groan or whimper from deep in his chest. They finally got him onto his back, Molly helping him prop himself up with pillows.

“Did it work?” Caleb rasped.

Molly gave an irritated sigh. “Yes, your bloody martyr spell worked.” Then his face softened a little. “Thank-you.”

…

The point of the teleportation bomb was to let them escape, alive, while leaving a firestorm of damage in their wake. It had worked perfectly, no matter Molly’s bitching about Caleb’s ‘martyr complex’. He was alive, so if he was a martyr he was a bad one.

The spell was… unpleasant, for the caster. It collected every little bit of latent energy, most particularly heat, and used it to ignite an explosive force. He wondered if they could go back and see what damage they’d done to the caves. The aberrations there certainly hadn’t survived, but he was curious to know if the cavern did. Even if the Nein didn’t want to, Essek might help him check.

Caduceus had a theory that the Bomb spell also collected chemical energy, meaning it sapped all of Caleb’s body’s resources. It was his explanation for why every muscle ached afterward. It was also, Caleb suspected, a convenient excuse to force food on him. Which would happen momentarily, from the smell of Caduceus’ soup on the hearth.

In the meantime he was propped up on pillows, eyes closed with his head rocked back in ecstasy. His lips parted with a small groan. Fine-boned tiefling fingers held his hand, thumbs rubbing firmly at the small muscles and tendons from fingertip to wrist. The smaller muscles were always the most painful, and his fingers had suffered the cold as well. The massage ached and tingled, but the flood of endorphins that came from the relief provided drowned any unpleasantness out nicely.

“Does it hurt?” Molly asked.

“Yes.” Caleb sighed.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

Molly chuckled, crawling over him to take his other hand and start the process over again. A kindness. If his hands worked he could read, write. Entertain himself for the few more hours that the magic was still battering his system, before Cad and Jester could heal him up safely.

Jester appeared at the foot of the bed with a pounce and a bounce.

“Oh, poor Caleb! Here, let me he– Hey!“

Caleb’s eyes shot open, his legs bending to snatch his feet away from Jester’s clutches. 

“Nein– absolutely not–”

“But you’re letting Molly help!” Jester whined.

“I assure you I wouldn’t trust him there either.” 

“But whyyyyy?”

Caleb’s face broke into an exasperated smile. “Because I am not fool enough to let a tiefling handle my feet–”

“Rude!”

“Fine then, how about ‘because I have long term memory’ and ‘I occasionally learn from past mistakes and experiences’, hmm?”

“Humph. Still rude.”

“Or…” Fjord walked up to join them, bearing soup for Caleb. He delivered it before turning around and swinging Jester up into his arms. “Completely reasonable and good thinking. He’s still hurt. You can tickle him after he’s better.”

Fjord carried a giggling and protesting Jester over to the table for dinner. If Caleb had the strength, he would have tossed a pillow at their backs. 

Drinking the soup was a lot like the massage. He had it from one of Caduceus’ huge earthen teacups, so warm that it scalded his hands a little. The liquid itself felt molten, like it was cutting through his frozen insides. It hurt a little, but the near-instant relief from the bone-deep chill of the spell’s after effects made him savor it. 

Molly’s hands– also hot against too-cold skin– started to work on the larger muscles at his shoulders as he drank, planting the occasional kiss on top of Caleb’s head. Once the soup was done and the world started to haze in the warm, bright way it only did around the Nein, Caleb gave up the cup to Caduceus and burrowed into Molly’s arms once more.

The tiefling shivered. “It really is upsetting that you’re still so cold. Like you’re dead and we just haven’t noticed yet.”

“It fades when the arcane disturbance does.” Caleb mumbled into his chest before shifting to hide a coy smile in Molly’s shirt. “Would a corpse do this?”

Admittedly icy fingers, now functioning for all of Molly’s hard work, started to spider-climb up Molly’s side.

“Ha! Heh. You do realize– hehe– that your tickle immunity ends the sehehecond someone can lay a heal on you?”

“Mhmm.” Caleb mumbled, his eyes closed in an entirely false show of angelic sleep while his fingers kept teasing Molly under the covers, “sounds like I better enjoy it while I can, ja?”

Molly still wasn’t quite laughing, just breathless and twitchy, still holding Caleb in his arms. “Oh me oh my, your future self is gonna– heh!– regret this grave you’re digging, dear.”

“If he had a ticklish tiefling who couldn’t retaliate, I think he’d do the same.”

“Heh– haha! Has it been so long? Are ya just aching to be tickled out of your keeheeheen little mind that bad?”

Caleb just gave him a smug little smile and tweaked his hips. The human man’s fingers started to slip and slow as his exhaustion took over, and soon he was asleep with his face buried in Molly’s chest once more.

He woke up pressed between two tieflings. It felt a bit like being wrapped in a sauna. He was drooling on Molly’s chest again, with Jester’s softness pressed against his back. Was he overheating? He sat up, pushing the many layers of blankets and furs away. The air felt refreshing, cool against his skin. His muscles still ached, but his skin was still, free of the arcane sparks.

“Do you feel better, Caleb?”

He quickly realized that both tieflings were looking at him, having interrupted the conversation they’d been having quietly over his sleeping form. 

“Ja. Still sore, but the cold is gone. I think the sparks as well?” He extended his limbs to show her.

“Yeah, I think they’re gone! Here, let me take care of the rest.” 

He looked around while she cast, catching sight of a card game over at the table that was getting a little rowdy as several bickering quips were traded between players. Caduceus was watching, looking very amused but without cards of his own. 

The Heal spell done, Caleb tested his muscles and joints. “Much better Jester, thank you.”

“So, you’re all better?”

“Ja I think–” 

Caleb cut himself off with a wince, not even making an effort to try and avoid the two-tiefling tackle that upended him. He wound up on his stomach, each leg pinned with a tiefling body while whip-quick tails took turns poking his sides and ribs.

“So, we obviously need to talk about how rude it was, when Caleb said we couldn’t be trusted!”

“Aye, that was mighty rude.”

The tails prodding at his back and ribs already had Caleb jittery. “S-so you’re going to prove me wrong, ja? By being very trustworthy and nice?”

“Sure we’ll be nice,” Molly said with a smile that was anything but, “we’re gonna give you exactly what you were askin’ for.”

One of Jester’s pointed nails circled his heel. “Can you feel that OK, Caleb? Any numbness?”

“Ha! N-no they’re fine!”

“And how about here?” Molly teased, one finger tracing an arch.

“Ah! No! I’m fhihihine, they’re fine, please!”

“We have to check them over carefully Caleb. To prove how responsible and trustworthy we are!”

“Nein!”

Then they were both tickling the balls of his feet, and Caleb’s attempts to hold it together collapsed into a mound of cackles. His upper body jackknifed and flapped, expressing the desperate squirming his pinned legs couldn’t.

At some point Molly’s tail had managed to slip up the loaner shirt Caleb was wearing (much too large) and start writhing underneath his belly like a snake. Caleb wailed like he was dying, trying to paw at the tail under his shirt without being able to roll over.

“Hey! Uh… you did heal him first, right?” Cad strolled over to them and away from the increasingly loud card game.

“Yes of course! Now we’re just making sure it worked!”

“It worked! Bitte, bitte!  Pleaheeheese!” Caleb cried through his laughter, one hand reaching out to Cad in desperation before yanking the arm back with a yelp to try and block Molly’s tail as it tried to crawl into his armpit.

Cad watched Caleb laugh for a moment, seeming thoughtful. 

“You know,” he finally spoke, directing it at the tieflings, “It’s really the toes you’ve gotta worry about, with frostbite.”

“Nein!” Caleb cried before they even started. “Mercy!”

“Ooh what a good idea Caduceus! Caleb, what about this toe, can you feel this one?”

The only answer was a squeal like a rusty door hinge and increasingly desperate laughter. The process continued with two more toes before they got bored and went to town.

Caleb was so busy burying his face in the blankets and beating his palms helplessly against the mattress that he almost didn’t notice Cad lower his large frame onto the bed beside him. He didn’t have the breath to talk, so he just mouthed “Why!?”

Caduceus chuckled, leaning in close to rumble in Caleb’s ear.

“You know I don’t approve of martyrdom.”

Then there were thick, soft, careful fingers combing Caleb’s ribs, and he was lost to hysteria. 

At some point beyond the edge of Caleb’s conscious thought, Cad called the tieflings off, citing exhaustion. At some point they pulled Caleb back under the blankets. At some point he fell back asleep to the sounds of tea, a raucous card game and quiet conversation. 

Lucky martyr.

[sociallyawkwardfoxwriter]

Caleb and Fjord sweet talking to each other forgetting that the other's are around, leading to "Yes, you guys are sweet but it's time to go to bed!"

They're just so in love. What else is there to do about it?

Enjoy!

"Finished?"

"Ja." After setting the book on the table, he snuggled back into Fjord's side and tucked his feet comfortably under him. "Thank you for buying it for me, liebling. It was very good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll be sure to pick you up something else the next time I'm out."

"You don't need to do that. I have plenty of other books I can read."

"Do you have a problem with how I spend my money?"

"Of course not. It's your money."

A kiss dropped to his forehead, then Fjord moved him to be sitting in his lap instead of leaning against his side. "Then I'll buy you a new book the next time I get the chance. Any requests?"

"No, anything you think will be interesting is fine."

"Okay, baby." This time Fjord kissed the side of his jaw and tightened his arms to drag Caleb further into his chest. "How are you doing on paper and ink?"

"I always need more paper and ink."

"Anything else?"

"Fjord, you don't need to do my shopping for me."

"You're right. We'll go shopping together and I'll pay."

While it was somewhat uncomfortable, he tucked his head under Fjord's chin so he could it back to look up at him. "You don't need to pay for everything. I am an adult with money of my own to spend on these things. In fact, that is what most of my money goes to."

"Why do you make it so hard to spoil you?"

"Because I don't need to be spoiled. I'm perfectly fine not being spoiled."

"But I want to spoil you."

"Why?"

"Because seeing you happy makes me happy. If using the gold sitting unused in my coin purse can do that, I want to spend it on you."

"Well, now I feel like an asshole."

"It's okay. You're my asshole and I love you for it."

"How sweet." He reached up a hand to rest against Fjord's cheek, which he immediately leaned into and rubbed his rough stubble against his palm. "I love you, too."

"So, shopping tomorrow?"

"I promised Essek we would go out for breakfast tomorrow morning, but I wouldn't be opposed to going after. Does that work for you?"

"Of course. Whenever you want to go is always fine with me."

"Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sweetheart. You know I always love-"

"Holy shit, please stop." The groan of frustration that followed drew his attention to Beau glaring at him from her spot on the couch across from them. "You guys are sweet and you love each other very much. Please take it to your room or anywhere that isn't here. I cannot keep listening to this."

"No one asked you to."

"It's hard not to when you're talking so loud. You have three whole rooms to yourself between the two of you. Pick one of them!"

"The library is not my room. You're in there almost as much as I am."

"That's not even close to true, and it doesn't change the fact that it's a place the two of you could go that's not here."

Despite the pillow he chucked at her being easily caught out of the air, he didn't let that deter him from sticking his tongue out at her. "Fine, we're leaving."

"Finally."

"Fuck off, Beauregard."

[illneverrecover]

is that so? (M) | jwy

➛pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader ➛genre: non idol!AU, established relationship, fluff, smut ➛word count: 5,094 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: oral sex (female receiving), food play if you squint?, marking, biting, slight roughness, praise, anal play (female receiving), butt plugs, unprotected sex, wooyoung being a loud sweet man. ➛summary: You’ve had a rough few days - hell, weeks - at work, and your new boyfriend Wooyoung knows just how to show you how much you’re appreciated.  ➛notes: EEEE, My first Ateez fic! I’ve been following Ateez since debut and fell completely in love with them, so I was excited when one of my fave clowns ladies, @thiccasswonhoruinedmylife​ commissioned me to write a Wooyoung piece. She requested something with Wooyoung cooking for an anniversary present with smut and fluff, which fits him perfectly tbh. Love you Bri, I hope you enjoy! 🖤 ➛song: Try/Effortless - DVSN  & Say My Name - Ateez 

Fuck, you’re tired. 

You’re always tired.

You can’t remember the last time you didn’t feel exhausted, where you felt well rested by the time your alarm went off at the crack of 5 am. Work was draining you to the dregs, long hours with even longer meetings (that could have been EASILY summed up in an email) and copious hours spent hand holding grown men on how to do their jobs (but getting paid infinitely less than them.) They take their toll, and now you dread going - hell, even looking at the building could kill your mood.

The only saving grace was your amazing boyfriend.

You hadn’t been dating too long, about two months, but it was one of those things where you had an instant connection, the click of two puzzle pieces fitting just right. It had been at one of your friends house parties (the ones you normally skip due to wanting to catch up on sleep) but this time she had insisted you come, adamant that you met her boyfriend’s friend who had recently moved back into town. You had brushed her off; knowing her for as long as you had, there was a solid chance that whomever her and her long time beau, Seonghwa, were trying to set you up with was either not your type, a fuckboy, or a combination of both. 

However, she had badgered you enough that you agreed to go, if only to get her off your back for the next few soirees (and to get her to lay off the dramatic gifs she had been spamming you with). Running late from work, you showed up in your business casual a few hours after it had started, the place eerily quiet as you could see silhouettes of guests mingling on the back porch. Taking advantage of not being noticed quite yet, you had decided to make yourself a strong glass of liquid courage before facing her and whatever fuckery was afoot for the evening.

You had just reached into the back of the fridge for the bottle of strawberry soju you knew was waiting for you when a voice had you jumping. 

“Anything good in there?”

Whirring around, you had found a blonde man eyeing you, hair swept off his forehead to show off his glistening skin. Your eyes dropped to his mouth, his plush coral lips curved up into a sly smirk as he leaned his forearms down against the counter. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” you swallowed, raising a brow at the stranger. “I know Red always keeps a bottle of strawberry soju in her fridge for little old me, hidden in the back so Seonghwa doesn’t steal it.” You had popped open the lid, choosing to chug straight from the bottle instead of fussing with a glass. “I promise I’m not just rummaging through there.”

He had laughed then, his voice pitching higher than you had expected, and it had made you smile. 

. He held his hands up in a surrender, palms out, a toothy grin on his face. “Hey, no judgment. I was about to do the same - but for food. Seongie is out there trying to grill but he’s such a perfectionist it’s taking forever, even Red is threatening to call for take out.” 

Chuckling, you shook  your head. “Sounds about right. I’m Y/N, by the way,” 

Holding out a hand, you had waited until he placed his palm in your own, giving it a firm nod.

“I’m Wooyoung, Seongie’s friend. I just moved back into town.” 

Ah, so he was the mysterious unofficial blind date.

You had eyed him then, fully taking him in from head to toe, assessing him as if you’d be able to tell his character from undressing him in your mind. He had been wearing some kind of dark button down, the top buttons open to bare some of his tanned chest, a jean jacket thrown over top to keep it casual. A few black chokers circled his neck, emphasizing the muscles there, matching the wash of his inky skinny jeans that were so tight you weren’t totally convinced that they hadn’t been painted on. 

His eyes had widened at your appraisal, but he hadn’t spoken a word, instead giving you another smirk while waiting for you to comment.

“It’s nice to meet you, Wooyoung.”

And it really was. From that point on, you two had been inseparable, even once rejoining the official party. Staying hip to hip, you talked about anything and everything, from the most mundane to the downright unexpected (you don’t think you have ever seen a grown man discuss Harry Potter with such wonder in his eyes), and you found yourself not wanting to go home, even as everyone else cleared out.  It was only natural to accept his invitation to continue your evening, to  be squeezed into a 24 hour diner booth discussing movies until the bleary hours of early morning over a plate of french fries. You just didn’t want the moment to be over, for the night to end, for the spell to dissipate. 

Luckily, you had both been on the same page.

Fate had taken its course from there, and there wasn’t a day that passed that you and Wooyoung didn’t see each other, even if it was just over FaceTime as you warmed up leftovers after work. He was so attentive, so sweet, so funny, bringing back a spark into your life that you hadn’t even been aware of that was missing. 

Maybe you had moved a little fast in the perception of others, but to you, it had just felt instinctive to exchange love declarations after the third week, to swap apartment keys sometime during the fifth. 

Unfortunately, your work schedule has been relentless, your days still painfully long and showing no signs of stopping. Wooyoung is understanding, always offering to run your errands for you and asking how he can help make your life easier. Even when he can’t help, when the load gets too heavy to bear - he holds you, lets you rage cry out your frustration, rubs soothing circles into your back until you feel a weight lifted once more. “I’d do anything to see your smile, Jagiya,” he’d tell you with a wide grin, light in his eyes.

And he went out of his way to make that promise come true as often as possible, from little notes left on your door when you come home at night, to silly dance moves in your kitchen as a Britney Spears song blares from your Bluetooth speaker. He even made sure to make your one month anniversary special by having  your favorite flowers waiting for you when you got home, your bedroom turned into the vision of comfort with blankets and pillows and a large bowl of popcorn, perfect for a movie marathon.

He was truly the perfect man, the reason you got out of bed in the morning, the inspiration to fight through the longest of shifts - and  you were so thankful to have him, always hoping he could feel how much his love meant to you.

So it wasn’t a surprise when you came home to him cooking inside your apartment one Friday night after work. 

You had actually gotten off work at a decent time for once, feet crossing the threshold just as the clock showed it was a quarter after 5, and you had sighed heavily with relief when the smell of sauteed garlic hit your nose. Kicking off your heels, you wandered towards the kitchen, your heart skipping a beat when you saw your boyfriend standing at the stove. 

He has a bright red apron tied around his neck, a flash of words on the front though you couldn’t quite read them. Instead, you were too focused on the ingredients piled onto the counter, the slight flush in his cheeks from working over a hot stove. Candles were placed everywhere, setting the room into a soft glow, and there was a bottle of wine aerating next to twin glasses on the table, plates waiting to be filled. 

He spins when he hears you, grinning at the soft look on your face. “Hey, Jagi. How was work?”

You click your tongue. “Don’t ‘how was work’ me, what’s all this for? Are you trying to spoil me?”

He moves towards you then, giving you an eyeful of his “May I suggest the sausage?” apron, complete with an arrow pointing down to his crotch, making you snort. 

“First of all, how dare you. I’m always trying to spoil you.” Sliding his arms around your waist, you rest your face on his shoulder, melting into his touch. “Second of all,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your crown, “it’s our two month anniversary, so I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You are too good to me, Woo.”

Humming, Wooyoung sways, keeping you trapped in his arms for a beat longer before moving to plant a peck on your cheek. “No such thing as too good for you. Now, go sit down, rest, let me finish up. I’m just about finished.”

You do as ordered - moving to sit at the table, deciding to wait until after dinner to change, not wanting to take your eyes off of him. Instead you poured yourself a glass of wine, sipping it slowly as you watched him cook. It was endearing; seeing him work around the kitchen, brow furrowed in concentration when he would double check the recipe on his phone screen, tongue poking out the side of his mouth when he measured out a spice. He seemed to be taking it so seriously, making sure each step was perfect before moving to the next, which in comparison to the mess he was leaving in his wake, is amusing.

For what he lacked in skill, he makes up in confidence, wielding the knife with ease as he made the final slices to the meat, tossing them in a pan to saute. With a final stir, he adds them to the pot, gathering the sides with oven mit clad hands before sitting it down on the table.

A quick glance told you it was some kind of ramen, noodles and vegetables simmering in an aromatic liquid, steak lined on the top with some hard boiled eggs nestled next to it. Moving to the fridge, he grabs a few more bowls and side plates wrapped in plastic, bringing them to join the other dishes.

“I thought we could have my world famous ramen for dinner tonight,” he explains, tearing the plastic off to reveal the side entrees. “It’s a bit of a mashup of Korean kimchi ramen, but I also wanted you to have options on what to add to yours.” 

He seems nervous, vibrating with untapped energy. Smiling, you reach out and squeeze his hand. “It’s perfect, seriously. Thank you, Wooyoung.” 

Like a true gentleman, he fixes your initial bowl, walking you through all the side entree options and flavors, giving suggestions based on your preferences. Only once you are settled does he prepare his, grinning like a madman when he finally takes a seat. 

Instead of tearing into the food like you expected, he stares at you, eyes dancing with mischief. Your hand hovers over the bowl, spoon suspended half way between your food and your mouth, and you raise a brow at him. “What?”

“Nothing! It’s nothing.” he leans back, placing both hands behind his head. “I just want to see the look on your face when you taste it, is all.”

“And why is that? Is there secretly an entire ball of wasabi in here or something?”

He giggles, head shaking. “No!” he protests, voice echoing off the walls. “No, I would never! How dare you!” you join his laughter, despite your spoon still being frozen, waiting for him to continue. “I just want to see your face when you taste the excellence and decadence that is Jung Wooyoung’s cooking.”

“Is that so?” you purr, cheeks starting to hurt from all the smiling you were doing. You couldn’t help it, he was just so cute. 

Nodding, he slides his hands under his chin, propping his face up to look at you. “Yes, it is. Some would even liken it to a religious experience. Please,” he gestures a hand out, waving it. “Humor me.”

Without dropping his eyeline, you bring the spoon to your mouth, pursing your lips to blow a puff of air onto it before it reaches your tongue. It was the perfect blend of flavor and kick, the kimchi adding a satisfying crunch. 

“So?” he prompts, practically bouncing in his seat. “What do you think?”

“I think this might be the best thing I’ve ever put into my mouth,” you sigh, already scooping your next bite. 

He shouts victoriously, throwing his arms in the air. “Yes! I knew you would love it! You aren’t just saying that, are you?”

Swallowing the warm liquid, you lean forward then, grabbing his arm to leverage yourself as you plant a wet kiss to his cheek. “I’m not just saying it, Woo. It’s delicious, thank you so  much for making it for me.”

His eyes crease as a wide grin takes over his face, adoration shining and mirrored within your own gaze. “Of course, Y/N. I’m glad you like it.”

The rest of the meal is shared over tales of your days, you filling him in on all the craziness of the office, while he tells you about the appointments he had and how his dance class went. It was always relieving, to come home at the end of the day and have someone to lament to, to share your life with, especially when they were so willing to do the same, and there isn’t a moment of silence as you and your boyfriend finish your dinner together.

You move to stand and clear the table, reaching for his bowl when he smacks your hand. “Absolutely not, Jagi. I am here to spoil you, and that includes cooking AND the cleaning. Sit back down.”

Giving him your best glare, you try to protest, but he isn’t having it, swift hands pushing you back into your seat as he grabs your bowl and heads to the sink. “Plus, who said the meal was over yet?” he calls over his shoulder, placing the bowls down.

“Oh yeah?” you chuckle, crossing your arms. “What else do you got for me?”

His expression changes then; previous playfulness melting away and leaving an edge to his smirk, a darkness to eyes. “Well, dessert, of course.” 

You continue to eye him as he moves to the fridge, pulling out a domed container before walking it back to the table. Placing it in front of you, he removes the top with a flourish, kneeling down to your seated height. “I made your favorite,” he husks, voice low. “Peanut Butter Chocolate cheesecake.”

The cheesecake itself was beautiful; he had attempted to decorate it with some chocolate syrup and crushed Reeses, and the evident effort softens you once more. “It looks amazing!” you gush, looking to meet his gaze. “You really have gone all out, haven’t you?”

Instead of answering, he serves you a piece on a small plate, handing you a fresh fork. Grinning, you immediately cut into it, shoving a bite into your mouth inelegantly. Closing your eyes, you let out a groan at the richness of the flavor, chewing slowly to savor it. It really was delectable - the cheesecake a perfect dense yet fluffy texture, peanut butter swirling with the chocolate in harmony.

You were so lost in thought you didn’t pay attention to where Wooyoung had gone; why the room had fallen so silent as you revered your treat. You move to cut another slice off your serving, placing the fork between your teeth when you feel a palm slide up your thigh.

“W-Woo?” snapping your eyes open, you look to the side, expecting your boyfriend to still be kneeling there, but coming up empty.

Peering down, you instead see him crouched between your legs, wicked devilry glittering in his gaze. He slides both hands up your bare thighs, fingers tracing patterns right above the seam of your skirt. 

Before you can say a word, he grips your legs and bows them out, making more room for his body, his mouth dipping to press a wet kiss to the flesh above your knee. 

“You had such a long day. You work so hard, you’re always working so hard, Y/N. I thought it would be a nice little treat if while you enjoyed your dessert, I could also enjoy mine?” his voice was honeyed with molten lust, but it was still a question - still seeking your comfort. 

Groaning, you lick your lips, breath hitching at his touch. “Of course you can,” you rasp, eyes closing once more when you feel his fingers caressing closer and closer to your core.

Dropping your fork, the cheesecake is all but forgotten when Wooyoung continues to trail his lips up your inner thighs, digits reaching for the now dewy panties at the apex, sliding them off your legs. Hand fumbling, you move to work at the side zipper of your skirt, wanting to give him more access, when thick fingers circle your wrist.

“No, Jagi. I want you to leave it on,” he murmurs, hands now moving to bunch your skirt up around your waist. “Like this, you’re so perfect like this.”

Whining, you rake your fingers through his blonde hair, tugging gently at the roots in a silent plea to have him move closer. Chuckling, he acquiesces, pupils wide as he takes in the sight of your dripping cunt. 

He hovers for a moment, hot breath fanning over your sensitive flesh, and just before you could beg he drops his mouth to your center. Tongue flicking out, he swirls it around your already engorged clit, tracing the lines of your labia down and back at an unhurried pace, tasting you. Repeating the movements, he groans against you, lips sliding to suckle at your bundle of nerves until your thighs were shaking against him.

He coos praise at you in between long licks against your core, his finger dipping into your wetness briefly before being pressed inside of you. “You taste so sweet, feel so good, Jagi,”

 Crying out at the sensation, your hand pulls at his hair once more, wanting the friction, wanting him deeper.  He gives in for a moment, tongue rolling against your clit, pulling it between his lips and suckling harshly. You feel your high building rapidly, tension rolling from your bones to deep in your gut, threatening to snap at any moment.

Instead of hurtling you over the edge, he pulls back with a moan, resting his head against the cushion of your thigh. He watches his finger disappear inside you one last time before pulling it out, immediately popping it into his mouth.

Wooyoung looks up at you then, lips shiny with your arousal and eyes blackened with need. “I thought I’d have the patience to finish you off like this, but I don’t. I want to be inside you, now.”

Before you can even finish nodding your head in agreement, you're pulling him to you, cupping his face and pressing your mouth onto his. The kiss is hungry, desperate, dripping in passion, his tongue sliding against yours so deliciously that you feel like you’re drowning in him.

He pulls away enough to trail small kisses down your jaw line, your pulse, until he laves the tender skin at the base of your throat, making you whine. As he sucks and bites his claim onto your neck, you feel his arms grab your legs, guiding you to lock them around his waist before he’s shifting you up into his hold.

The low growls he makes while working over your throat have you distracted, arms coming to brace yourself around his neck as he carries you towards the bedroom. You’re gasping into his mouth when he spins to push you against the wall, pinning you in place under the lithe lines of his body. Throwing your head back, your fingers come to tangle in the hair at the base of his skull, hips grinding against him.

“Fuck, Wooyoung,” you pant as he alters his attack to the other side of your clavicle, insistent on leaving twin marks to claim you. His anguished desire excites you, has you clenching around nothing when he returns to peck at your lips. 

He ruts up against you, and for a moment you think he’ll take you right here against your bedroom wall - not that you would mind - but then he slows his hips, releasing his tight grip on your legs as he pulls you towards the bed. 

It's there that he undresses you completely, kissing each inch of bare skin as it’s revealed to him, murmuring words of love  until you are naked and flushing before him. Sitting up on his knees, he quickly joins you - pulling his shirt off and throwing it haphazardly, kicking off his jeans and boxer briefs. 

He stares at you reverently, eyes and hands always roaming the lines of your form. “I have another surprise for you tonight, if you’re up to it,” he husks, lips quirking into a grin.

“Is that so?” you repeat your words from earlier, unable to stop yourself. He chuckles lowly, leaning over you to open the drawer on the bedside table where typically you house your small collection of sex toys. You follow the movement, curious to see what would grab, but your eyes widen when you see him holding something you weren’t familiar with.

It was stainless steel, bulbed at one end before tapering out and flaring into a large circle at the base. The base had a beautiful violet jewel in it that twinkled when the light hit; a small bottle of lubricant nestled beside it in his large palm.

He had bought you a butt plug.

Seeing your expression, Wooyoung chuckles nervously, dropping the items onto the bed in order to hover over you. “I know we’ve discussed trying this in the past, and just thought that after the time we used my fingers, that this might be a good next step…” he trails off, eyes imploring yours. “However, if you don’t want to or don’t feel comfortable, that’s perfectly fine, Jagi. I don’t want to pressure you at all.”

Excitement tore through your nerves, your body lighting up at the idea of doing this with him. He was so thoughtful, so sweet, and you knew in that moment that you trusted him explicitly. 

“I want to,” you purr, leaning up to bite at his collarbone. “I want to try this, with you…”

His face illuminates with a smile as he moves to sit up on his knees once more, grabbing the plug. “I want to try this with you too.”

Ignoring the lube for now, he closes the plug in his fist as he moves to lay down between your legs. For a while, he just kisses you everywhere, lets his fingers drag through the slick of your slit, gently rubbing at your nub until you are panting and relaxing against his touch. When your eyes start to close, he grabs for the bottle of lubricant, squeezing a generous amount onto the plug before doing the same against your tight ring of muscles.

Jumping at the sensation of cool gel against heated skin, you take a deep breath, letting yourself get lost in the sensations he was providing you. A thumb was still rolling your clit, while another finger was gently massaging the puckered skin of your ass. Your body felt like wildfire, molten and burning too hot, and yet all you wanted was more. 

“I-I think I’m ready, Woo, please,” you whine, hands fisting in the sheets. “Please put it in.”

He groans, fingers stuttering at the wanton sound of your cries. He wanted to drag this out, to tease you until you were blubbering and begging, but between his throbbing cock and your sinful noises, he didn’t think he could wait any more. 

Slowly, he starts to push the bulbous end of the plug against you, thumb of his free hand still working against your bundle of nerves. You tense when you feel some pressure, but Wooyoung is there to talk you through it, guiding you to breathe and relax as he takes care of you, edging the plug in. 

You sense when it’s pushed in to the hilt, the jeweled edge nestled against your rim, and you sigh in relief at the pleasant buzz of the stretch.

Wooyoung slides to sit up on his knees, a hand coming to smooth circles on the flesh of your inner thigh, while the other palms at his hardened length. 

“How does it feel, Jagi? You feel okay?” he breathes, slotting himself between your legs and closer to your center. 

You nod, reaching out to grasp at his hips. “I feel so good, baby,” you praise, guiding him until his cock was dragging against your dripping cunt. “Now I just need you inside of me too, please,”

He hisses at your words, pressing the thick head of his length until it was slipping inside the welcoming heat of your walls, slowly moving to bury himself deep inside of you.

The fullness was overwhelming, delicious, his pelvis resting flush against your own. His brow was furrowed, mouth agape in a silent moan as he started to swivel his hips.

“F-Fuck,” you groan, nails dragging down the skin at his sides as he began to pump in and out of you, slowly at first, as if he wanted to make sure you were feeling every inch of him against your engorged walls. The plug was the perfect size to enhance each movement, the dual sensations making you mewl. 

“Does it feel good?” he husks, voice impossibly deep as his thrusts increase. “Does Jagi like being so full of me? Likes having that little plug in her ass?”

Whining at his words, you chew at your lip, hands reaching out to tug him closer to your mouth. “Yes, I do, Wooyoung. Just for you, all for you.”

He growls then, hips moving at a punishing pace, basking in your sweet cries of his name, wanting to make sure you were fully wrecked and falling apart for him. He could feel you squeezing against him, so impossibly tight, and knew you were close to unraveling. 

Dropping his lips to yours, he licked into your mouth, swallowing your moans as he slid a hand between your bodies to rub at your apex once more.

You broke the kiss to sob, head thrown back against the mattress. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, baby,” your orgasm so close you felt your cunt pulsating, your vision going white. After a few more pumps of his cock and probing circles of your clit, you finally come undone, walls constricting as electricity shoots through your veins, gasps tearing from your throat.

Wooyoung doesn’t last much longer, burying his face in your neck as he finally releases deep inside you with staccato thrusts, only stopping when he was sure every drop was nestled into your tender core.

Catching your breath, you lay for a few soundless moments, fingers tracing patterns on his back while he steadily came down from his high. When he finally moves to get cleaned up, he insists you stay put - instead bringing a wet washcloth and removing the plug for you, wiping you clean.

“Happy Anniversary,” he quips, slapping playfully at your ass, and you can’t help but laugh along, rolling your eyes at him.

After a quick trip to the bathroom you’re back in bed - and his arms - snuggled against his chest, eyes closed in contentment. Wooyoung is so tender, asking every few moments how you felt, if you needed anything. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were luckier than you ever thought was possible, and you told him so.

“What do you mean, Y/N? I’m the lucky one here. You are so beautiful and smart and successful, and you let me be in your life, let me support you. It’s all I could ever want.” he murmurs, eyes intense as he presses a kiss to your nose. “Plus, you laugh at all my jokes, eat my cooking, and are willing to try new things in the bedroom. You’re basically my dream girl.”

You laugh then, slapping at his arm. “Well, that’s good to know, and right back atcha.”

“What? I’m your dream girl?”

Giggling, you snuggle closer to his chest once more. “Yes. You’re my dream girl and I’m so glad I get to be in your life.” Leaning up, you meet his eyes. “I love you, Wooyoung.” 

The responding smile is so bright you think it may blind you, but his joy was infectious as he whoops loudly. “I love you too, Y/N. So much.”

For a moment, there was nothing but peaceful calm, twin hearts beating rapidly as you let him lead you in a chaste kiss, pulling away to rest your forehead against his own.

“Even if your dirty talk could use some work, I love you and I’m still glad to be here-”

“HEY!” he yells, pushing back to look at you, face incredulous. “What do you mean my dirty talk could use some work?! My dirty talk is perfect!”

You shrug, a sly smirk on your face. “Is that so?”

Scoffing, he tries to slide out of your grasp, pout heavy on his lips. “Yes, that is so! What, was I supposed to call you ‘my greedy little ass slut’ right out of the gate? I mean, I knew you were a freak, Jagi, but I was trying to be a gentleman.”

Choking back your laughter, you lock your arms around him, bringing him back against you until you are spooning him tightly, cooing apologies in his ear. It took several minutes of cuddles and reassurance before he would turn to look at you again, his gaze still hard.

Grinning, you cup his face, your finger resting against the plush fullness of his lower lip. “Oh yeah? And what if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?” 

“Then I guess we’ll have to go for round two.” he growls, before claiming your lips once more.

[detectivecarlosreyes]

Only the pure in heart can make a good soup

Ao3

Day 1: “Are you warm enough?” + fluff -  Athena asks Buck to check on May when she stops answering her phone after staying home from school with the stomach flu that had been going around.

@evanbuckleyweek

One thing Buck didn’t expect on his day off was getting a call from Athena. He’d just finished a load of washing and had the now clean pile tipped it out on his bed to be folded when the call came through.

He wedges the phone between his ear and shoulder as he goes about folding each item and stacking them in their specific piles to be put away in the right drawer. “Athena! This is a surprise, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“Hey there Buckaroo. I was actually wondering if you could do me a favour, if you’re not busy.” He surveys what was left of his clothes.

“Nope not busy at all, what do you need?” Buck moves the phone to his hand as he settles on the end of his bed, giving Athena his undivided attention.

“May stayed home sick from school today and I was going to swing by at lunchtime to check on her, but I’ve been held up with an incident on the other side of town. Would you mind checking on her, she hasn’t answered her phone in the last few hours.”

“Yeah, of course, I can do that.”

“Normally I wouldn’t ask but Bobby has gone to the station to sort out a backlog of paperwork that he missed while he was sick, and Michael has gone on a 3-day weekend away with his new beau and as you know everyone else is out of commission with the flu.”

Yeah, he did know, it was something that was going around at the moment, a 24- hour stomach bug. It started with one of the guys at the station who passed it onto Bobby who then passed it onto most of the team, except him and Athena, who went down all at once. It wouldn’t surprise him if May was struck down with the same thing.

Hearing the concern in her voice, Buck gets up and plan of action already forming in his head, “Don’t worry about it ‘Thena, I’ll drop by now and I’ll let you know how she is.”

“Thank you Buck, I’ve got to go but I’ll talk to you later,” she was gone after that and Buck was on the move, collecting his shoes from his room before heading to the kitchen.

Pulling open the fridge, he gathers what was left of the chicken soup batch he’d made the night Bobby had fallen ill and thanked his foresight to make a large enough batch to deliver to the rest of the team the morning when they went down too.

It was a patented recipe that his grandmother swore by that was both nourishing and easy on the stomach lest it be unsettled, and in all his years of using it, it hadn’t steered him wrong yet.

Throwing on his shoes, Buck gathers everything, grabbing one last thing from the fridge as an afterthought, and heads out for the nice, short drive that it takes to get to the Grant-Nash household. He easily finds the spare key that he knew was carefully hidden in the front garden.

Stepping inside, Buck heads to the kitchen to drop everything off before seeking out May who he assumed was probably in her bedroom, trying to sleep off the sickness. Finding the bedroom door closed, he knocks gently and announces his presence out of deference to her privacy.

Hearing what he thinks is the sound of her stirring, Buck opens the door a crack, “May? You awake?”

“…Buck? What are you doing here?” Swinging the door wider, he finds her lying on her side buried under her blanket and looking half-awake, squinting at the door in confusion.

“Your mom asked me to check on you when you weren’t answering your phone.”

Seeing a slight flush of her cheeks Buck steps inside and crouches at her bedside, touching the back of his hand to her forehead and frowns when he feels what he thinks might be a low-grade fever radiating from it.

“I’m guessing you probably have what Bobby had the other day, how are you feeling?” He asks as he looks down at the thankfully empty bucket sitting beside the head of the bed. He sits back on his heels, giving her some room as she props herself up on her pillows considering the question.

“I can’t tell if I feel hungry or still feel like my stomach is still upset. Breakfast didn’t stay down for long, it came back up not long after mom left.” She ends up answering with a grimace, wrapping an arm around her belly.

“I brought some soup. How about I just warm up a little bit and we see how we go.” He offers and gets a considering nod in response. Buck gives her a pleased smile and heads back down to the kitchen to warm the soup in a small saucepan.

He puts a slice of bread in the toaster before turning his attention to his phone, letting Athena know how things were. He moves easily around the kitchen, finding what he needs and plates everything up on a tray to take up to May. Before he has the chance to bring to food to her, he’s surprised, however, to hear her coming down the stairs.

“Is that the same soup you made for Bobby? It smells good.” She says, appearing around the corner, looking more alert and dressed snugly in a thick looking hoodie and track pants.

“Yep, grandma’s secret recipe. Why don’t you take a seat on the couch and I’ll bring it over to you,” Buck answers over his shoulder as he picks up the tray.  

He brings it over to the living area and set it down on the coffee table before passing the bowl to May. “Want to watch something together?”

“You’re staying?” she asked, confused.

Buck shrugs and takes a seat next to her on the couch, picking up the remote, “Yeah, I have nowhere else to be today and I don’t see a better way to spend my day than keeping you company.”

He pauses realising that he might be overstepping, “…If you don’t mind that is.”

May smiles at him, “I wouldn’t mind some company.”

Buck grins back at her before turning his attention back to the tv, “So, what would you like to watch.”

They end up settling on The Great British Bake-off which neither of them had watched. While they watch, Buck tries to subtly pay attention to how much May ends up eating, hoping that she gets at least some nutrition after losing her breakfast, and finds himself pleased to find that she managed at least half the bowl and a few bites of toast.

Almost an hour had passed, and they had just started on the next episode when May got up abruptly, rushing out of the room in the direction of the bathroom. He follows in concern and finds her kneeling by the toilet bowl, throwing up what she’d just eaten.

He goes to fetch a glass of water before returning and joining her in the bathroom. He squats beside her and rubs her back comfortingly until the heaving subsides before offering the glass. She takes it gratefully and washes out her mouth before getting up and moving gingerly back to the couch.

Buck diverts to the kitchen, getting the sports drink he remembered last minute to bring before re-joining her on the couch and offers the bottle, gently reminding her to keep up the fluids.

“Thanks,” May says with a small smile before resting her head on his shoulder with a frustrated sigh, “Guess my stomach wasn’t ready for food yet.”

Buck gives her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, “We can always try again later.”

Feeling her shiver against him, Buck pulls the throw from the back of the couch and May tucks her feet up.

“Are you warm enough?” He asks and May nods into his shoulder.

They both fall quiet after that, tuning back into the show even though they’d already missed half the episode but neither really minding. They slowly get back into it by the end of the episode, commenting on what they think the judges will say about the dishes.

And that how the rest of their afternoon went, building up their own running commentary on the show, throwing in their own opinions and laughing at each other’s criticisms. At some point Harry joins them, having been dropped off from school from the neighbouring carpool.

That’s what Athena walks in to find when she gets home from work, the three of them looking at home with each other as her children quietly bickered with Buck as if they were siblings, over who they thought were the better bakers, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of fondness over it.

Buck sticks around a little longer after Athena’s return, letting her know how the day went and confirming what she assumed May was sick with; And then he heads home, leaving behind the soup that he’d brought over and promising May that he’d try not to watch any more of the show without her.

The next day, however, he wakes to find himself flushed with a fever and with an intense need to throw up. It doesn’t take him much to put two and two together to know how he caught the bug. It doesn’t him bother though, feeling it was worth hanging out with May because it meant that he got to know her better and learned pretty quickly how easily they got along.

May must have found out from Bobby that he had called in sick because she sent him a number of British Bake-off memes which he saw after his second round of vomiting, making his day feel less awful. She explained that she was having another day from school to be sure that the virus had passed. 

The memes ended up sparking a day-long event with the two of them live blogging to each other what was left of the first season from the comfort of their own homes.

It was one of the best sick days he’s had in quite some time probably since he was a kid.

[myhockeyworld87]

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 4

Word Count: 2,351

POV: Reader then switches to Sid

Warnings: Language

Notes: Thank you guys for being patient with me. Hopefully I’ll be able to keep up with writing and put out some more stuff shortly. Hugs to all!

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

READER'S POV

 The minute you saw Beau go down your heartbeat a little faster. All of the guys were important to you, though Beau had gone out of his way to be extremely welcoming the last couple of days. You laughed when he turned his form into you, as he marked in the comment section to have his family contact put in your favorite section since he was so accident-prone; and now here he was being the first guy, to put your job to the test.

 You followed him and the trainer down to the locker room, and once it was evident he was going to need more tests; you made the call to his mom. She thanked you profusely for calling her, and you told her you'd keep her up to date with any news that you had. When you were quite sure that the Pens had the game in the bag, you made the decision to go with Beau and one of the trainers to the hospital.

 All the guys were filing into the locker room as you headed out, and god love Beau as he turned when one of them wished him good luck, he practically slipped. You put your arm around his waist and he held onto you as you made your way out to the car that was waiting. It was a couple hours before they could officially say that he'd reinjured his shoulder from a hit he received earlier in the season. Thankfully though, nothing was broken. After giving him some pain medication and popping his shoulder back into place, you called his mother back again, the three of you headed back to the hotel for the night.

 Beau was a bit loopy from the meds that they'd given him, so he definitely needed help getting into his room. Chris, the trainer that had gone with you, headed to coach Sullivan to give him a report, but asked if you would make sure Beau got into his room. He was on the opposite side of the hotel as you, but on the same floor so it really wasn't a problem. "Beau…Beau?" He was clearly half asleep. "Where's your key at?"

 It took him a moment to realize that you were talking to him. "Wallet," he said loud enough to wake the whole floor. "Back pocket." He obviously figured that you were going to get it, as he made no attempt to reach for it, though you weren't sure if that was because of his shoulder injury or the fact that it was taking everything in his power to remain upright. He was leaning on your heavily, which made it awkward to reach around to his backside and find his wallet. "You're so pretty." He said, taking his hand and brushing your hair back from your face. You knew you were going to have to monitor his meds, when he whispered in your ear, "Do you like me, Claire?" Who the hell was Claire, you wander. It was definitely something you were going to ask him once the medication wore off.

 Just then you grabbed his wallet, ah success you thought. Beau's forehead leaned down and touched yours just then. "Come on big guy, let's get you inside." It was then, as you turned to put the key in the door, that you saw Sid peering out of his room, watching the whole incident. You weren't sure what he thought he was seeing but the scowl on his face didn't exactly bode well, though he was not your priority at the moment. Opening the door to Beau's room, you led him in shutting the door and Sid outside.

 Once you got him inside, he sat down on the bed before you could get the covers pulled down. Which made him then attempt to try and lay down, only to wince in pain when he landed on his shoulder wrong. You got him back up, this time effectively turning down the bed and propping some pillows up, before making sure his ice packs were secure on his shoulder. "You good, Sunshine?" You asked calling him by his nickname.

 He plastered on a goofy grin with half-closed lids, as your answer. "Ok well if you need me, you have my number. Just give me a call."

 "Wait don't go, Claire." There that name was again.

 It was nearly one in the morning and you really wanted to get some sleep before leaving for the airport in the morning. "I'll just be down the hall."

 "Five more minutes." He was like a child pleading with his parents to stay up past his bedtime.

 "Fine. Do you want anything?"

 "Water and maybe one of those candy bars." You made your way over and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, then headed over to the desk where the box of goodies you left were. He still had one of his snickers bars left, so you peeled back the wrapper and handed both things off to him. That being done, you took a seat in the chair in the corner close to the window and the bed, sliding your heels off and propping your feet up on the bed next to him. "Thanks (Y/N), you're the best." Well, at least he knew who you were now.

 "Get some rest, Beau."

 You planned to stay only a few minutes, but it turned into an hour, as you dozed off in the chair, only being woken up by the stiffness in your neck. Beau was fast asleep, so you snuck out, backing out of the room so you could close the door silently behind you, as to not wake him. As you turned to walk down the hall to your room, you all but ran right into Sidney. He'd obviously been at the hotel gym, though you couldn't fathom why he would be there at this late hour. You couldn't help but notice the way his drenched t-shirt clung to his body, or how beads of sweat rolled down his chiseled face. It literally made you weak in the knees. It was the look in his eyes though, there was something there that you couldn't quite read. It was still the same heated stare from earlier only mixed with something more; something dark, and almost dangerous. A blush rose to your cheeks under his gaze. You had to physically stop yourself from staring at him.

 When you finally broke your gaze away from him, he asked, "How's Beau?"

 You blurted out an answer before even really thinking. "Reinjured his shoulder, the doctor gave him some pain meds and he was a bit groggy. So I thought I'd make sure he got to his room ok."

 He raised his eyebrows at you, as if questioning your answers, but then he masked the look just as quickly as it came. "Well…goodnight then."

 "Yeah…a goodnight Sid." You hurried down the hall to your room, shutting the door quickly as a feeling of uneasiness settling in. There was something about that look, almost as if he thought something else was going on between you and Beau, but that was absurd. Beau was nothing more than a friend, not to mention you were pretty sure Beau had a crush on someone names Claire. You shed your clothes and quickly went through your nightly routine before snuggling under the covers and putting the whole incident behind you.

 SID'S POV

 It had been a hell of a night. All you did was toss and turn, hoping to find sleep; yet every time you closed your eyes all you saw was Beau telling (Y/N) how pretty she was and her sneaking out of his room later. When you'd first seen everything happen you told yourself that she was just helping him to his room, and so to get your mind off it; you headed down to the gym and ran on the treadmill for an hour, hoping to exhaust yourself into sleep. You'd never expected to see her coming out of his room that much later. I mean how long did it take to open the door and let them in? Surely, there were other things going on during that time.

 You'd seen the way the two acted when they left for the hospital; as if they were a couple. (Y/N) taking care of him tonight only confirmed that. She probably thought no one would see her sneak back to her room, heels in hand. Yet it didn't matter to you that she'd probably just been doing god only knew what with your teammate; your body still reacted to her. Her hair slightly messed, yet still looking perfect, did things to you that you couldn't even begin to comprehend. It had you up late wondering what she'd look like waking up next to you. She'd turned the cutest shade of pink as you caught her coming out of the room and it had you wondering if she would blush like that when her body was underneath yours. Finally, at five in the morning, you decided to stop torturing yourself, and headed for a cold shower, hoping to tame your wild thoughts. At least it cooled you off to sleep for the next couple of hours.

 The little bit of sleep you did get, did nothing to help your personality in the morning. You were literally in one of the worst moods of your life, and when you walked into the conference room where breakfast was set up and saw (Y/N) smiling; your mood didn't improve. She was talking with Chris the head trainer, the two of them sharing some inside joke about something. You grabbed a plate and sat down next to Flower. "Woah, who peed in your cheerios?"

 "Huh?"

 "Just saying you're in a foul mood." You grabbed a forkful of eggs and shoved them in your mouth, unknowingly glaring at (Y/N). "Ahhh I see." Flower replied following your vision. "I don't think you have to worry about Chris, the man is happily married."

 "What?" You finally registered that Flower's words. "I'm not worried about him or anyone else for that matter. I just didn't sleep well."

 "You could fool me, friend." It was just the two of you at the table, your irritable behavior seeming to chase everyone else away. "Come on Sid, we've been friends forever. You can tell me what it is."

 You sighed heavily, weighing what you wanted to tell Marc-Andre. "Last night I saw (Y/N) helping Beau into his room."

 "Oh…and you're…jealous?"

 "I'm not jealous of that." Jealousy wasn't really your thing, especially when it came to women. Or maybe it was when it came to a certain woman in particular. "Well maybe…it's just…" You lowered your voice to a whisper. "I caught her coming out of Beau's room an hour later." Flower burst out laughing. "It's not funny man. I mean she shouldn't be sleeping around with guys on the team."

 "What? Unless it's you?" He had a point there, you wouldn't mind having her in your bed. "But I'm not laughing at that. My room is next to Beau's and I could hear everything. They were definitely not doing what you're thinking?"

 "They weren't?"

 "No," You waited patiently for Flower to say more. When he didn't you urged him.

 "Are you gonna tell me or not?"

 Marc-Andre just laughed more. "You really have it bad for her, don't you?" You just glared at your friend. "Ok, ok, I'll tell you. She must have helped him to bed. Well, Beau was whining, rather loudly. He wanted water, and something else. (Y/N) was just getting ready to leave when he whined again for her to stay, only well...I'm pretty sure he called her some other name. She said something about the chair, so I assumed she just waited till he fell asleep then left. So, see nothing happened."

 "You don't know that. Maybe it's some pet name he calls her." God, you didn't even want to think about that, it was disgusting. "They could've been doing all kinds of things." You protested.

 "If I heard him ask for water and whine about her staying; I would've surely heard the other things, my friend." Well, that did make sense, but there was still an opportunity for (Y/N) and Beau to do other things. You couldn't stop the scowl from appearing on your face. "Just ask her out and put an end to your misery man."

 "I can't!" A couple of the guys turned your way as that statement came out a bit harsher than you intended.

 Flower just raised his brow at you. "Why not? You obviously like her and I'm pretty sure she likes you too, or she did at one point. You'll never know until you ask."

 "She works for the team now. It would be…awkward. Besides, I think she's into Beau now." Especially after everything you saw last night.

 "It would only be awkward if you let it be, and I don't think she's into Beau. They're just friends. Same as she is with a lot of the guys on the team, including me." He took another bite of breakfast before adding. "Though eventually, someone is going to snag her up. Might not be someone on the team but it will be someone because she's amazing." He shrugged his shoulders then. "You just have to decide if you want to be that someone."

 Dropping your fork you abandoned your breakfast, to mull over what Flower had said. Did you want to be that guy? The better question was could you be that guy? You wanted the answer to be yes, but you also knew it was going to have to wait until after playoffs because you needed your full attention on hockey at the moment. It would only be two months, three at the most, and then you'd turn your full attention on winning (Y/N). She laughed at something someone said at her table and it drew your attention. Concentrating on hockey was going to be a lot harder than you thought.

[sweeethinny]

Reputation - Look What You Made Me Do (Chapter 5)

this time it didn't take me so long :) I had difficulties with the ending but I think I managed to finish it in a decent way (thank to @harrys-wheezys who help me, saying about how the war had changed them, and they realizing it :))

keep commenting, i love reading your opinions 

AO3

-------------

I don't like your little games Don't like your tilted stage

''Look what they wrote about us!" Harry looked at her, a little still tired from the morning sex round, his brain soft and with little ability to understand anything but Ginny's naked breasts, right next to him ''Harry Potter , 32, Order of Merlin blah blah blah, was seen chatting animatedly alongside another ex- Holyhead Harpies player, other than his wife, Ginny Potter (or can we call her Weasley again?)'' Ginny turned her head to him, a little too furious for nine on a cold Sunday morning "Terry is a lesbian! And she knows it."

''Why do you still buy this?'' Harry yawned, cuddling up to her chest, smiling at the softness of her breasts, better than the pillows, as he felt her nails on his scalp, almost driving him back to sleep.

''Why do I need to know what they are saying about us?'' He knew it wasn't really a question, so he kept quiet ''Forbidden romance is a hell. They've been separating us for years now, do you remember that about our marriage?'' 

Rita no longer wrote alone, now she shared the gossip podium with Beau Miller, a man no one really knew where he came from, and seemed to have won people's hearts more for his beauty than for the work itself.

'' ..Of course, what he writes is pure shit ' Harry grunted angrily, throwing the newspaper into the fire and watching it burn, irritated that he said that about Ginny ''They said she has kept me under the love potion .. Ginevra Weasley! The woman who knows very well what it is to have no control over yourself while someone else manipulates you like a puppet, would make me drink love potions! ' Harry clapped his hand on the table, suddenly feeling like he was on edge. .

He thanked for being alone.

''Is the future Potter keeping our chosen one under a potion? ' Harry feigned a very forced accent, his hand on his chest while blinking pompously into nothingness ''To hell with 'Our Chosen One' ''

It was just as irritating how much they got into their lives, saying filthy things about the two, making silly assumptions about betrayals, love potions, and even a teenage pregnancy - the picture of Ginny with Teddy in her arms gave them that.

Harry was so tired, especially now in the week of their wedding, where he was so nervous and upset that he thought he was about to fall to the floor with a heart attack. And it made it worse that Ginny was in France with Fleur, for something about her dress.

They always made him look like a fool, and Harry definitely hated them.

And it was with this resignation that he left his office, marching furiously to the building where the Prophet was.

 The role you made me play Of the fool, no, I don't like you

 ''How to forget? I think Beau is still scared of me'' He laughed nasally, hugging the woman's waist and burying his head more in her breasts ''But it wasn't just me who did it, if I remember correctly, in your seventh year you also lost the head''

''She caught me on a bad day'' Ginny defended herself

 It was supposed to be a calm Quidditch Final, at least it was what she expected.

She was prepared to face Ravenclaw with all her blood, determined to win and make use of all those training sessions under the rain and mornings that had barely emerged. She would win.

Harry being there, helped a lot too.

''If we win .. '' She said when the two met in the locker room still empty, for just one conversation.

"When you win," he said, kissing the tip of her nose before listening to her again, with all his attention and affection.

But then there was the press, as usual, and Rita Skeeter was there too, asking about silly stuff.

Ginny was on the edge, missing her stupid boyfriend who got bogged down with jobs until he missed the last trip to Hogsmeade, afraid to lose, eager to have scouts in the audience who would assess her potential to the last drop, judging her good or not for her team, nervous about the exam of her NIEM's next week .. It was so much, that having Rita distorting her words was not a real desire.

That smile ... Ginny was so eager to take it away.

I don't like your perfect crime How you laugh when you lie

''But Mrs Weasley, have you been playing just to impress a certain person? ' That had been the question after Ginny had scored 8 goals in less than an hour, and helped Gryffindor to win the Cup and being an incredible captain, being quite modest.

Of course, because everything about her was always intertwined, in some way, with Harry.

With little patience left, she decided to smile sarcastically as took the feather in her hand and kneaded it until there were no more pieces left, approaching the woman in a very unfriendly way, which made her startle and take two steps back, cowardly

''Yes, and I've been well rewarded for that. As you can see .. '' She waved her notebook with her wand, making it burn and end up nothing less than dust on the dirty floor of the locker room ''I'm great with my hands''

You said the gun was mine Isn't cool, no, I don't like you (oh!)

 ''You're really good with your hands'' Harry kissed the one who was resting beside him on the bed, also kissing her finger with their wedding ring, feeling the cold gold against his lips

''Thank you, I got better with time... You are lucky that I don't mind all these intrusions, because I already received some invitations to run away from you'' The man laughed, lifting his chin to look at her, green eyes playing fun

''I can't even believe what made you stay'' Ginny shrugged, smiling and running her nails over his shoulders

''Your fortune, of course''

 ''Ginny Potter getting married out of interest?

That's right wizard world, the Quidditch Team's great player,  Holyhead Harpies, received a marriage proposal from a Puddlemere United Team player, which we were unable to identify. And he claims that Ginny Potter told him that she will only marry Harry Potter because of his fortune.

More information on page 15.''

''Does the man say that but they don't know who he is?'' She snorted ''She loves to make me look like a disguised bitch'' Harry barely looked up from Ron's letter, drinking his coffee and wondering if he should get a piece of cake or cookies.

''She does it because she knows you read and it hits you ' The bride turned like a rabid dog towards him

''Hit me? Please, Harry! I am furious that they do not destroy the image of a man who proposed to a committed person, but make up this shit about me .. I'm sure that tonight she will be there'' The Ministry party, the one that the two tried to make up any excuse for not to go, but that in the end, he had been obliged to attend. ''Do you know something? I will use the diamonds you gave me. And I'm going to buy a new dress.'' Ginny got up from the table

''I thought diamonds would be for special occasions'' He joked, still not looking at her

"And isn't that special?" He risked looking at her; her cheeks flushed like fire, hair up in a quick bun and his shirt as pajamas ''Wear your expensive suit too. We will be the most glamorous couple of that idiot party'' And then she left, stomping firmly and still babbling curses along the way.

 [...]

''How I look?'' Ginny came out of the closet, and Harry started to wonder if they really needed to go to that stupid party, or if he could invent a disease that made him stuck at home.

She was stunning, the dress was golden and long, falling very close to her body and with straps so thin that he didn’t know how they didn’t split in half, a straight neckline that made her breasts look so stunning it was like he was 17 years and be embarrassed to see them. Her hair was tied in a neat bun, the diamond earrings matched the ring he had given her last month, delicate but shiny like party globes. Her lips were blood red, her eyes painted black and gold that made Harry forget the time she had spent in the bathroom.

''Wow'' He blinked a few times, watching her approach and fix his tie, blinking innocently and laughing

''Thank you my love, you are also beautiful ..'' Her hands smoothed the suit well aligned, seeming to approve that he had listened to her and put on the expensive piece ''I loved the gold buttons, they really make a great pair with my dress'' Ginny put her arm through his ''Can we go, Mr Potter? I need to parade with my rich fiance around.''

''I never felt so happy that I was being extorted'' They laughed, finishing getting what they needed before apparating to the Ballroom who were told it would be the event, identifying themselves at the entrance and smiling at the first camera that appeared , ignoring all the looks that some gave him "I come back from the dead, but what they care about is whether my future wife is about to kill me to keep my fortune or not .. "

But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time

''Because it sells more newspapers when they talk about a selfish bitch'' Ginny faked a smile ''Look, everyone commenting about us.' The circle of journalists seemed about to burst with excitement when they saw them coming in, ignoring anyone else more important that it passed them, seeming to argue about who should go to the couple first

"They must be arguing about what you had to do to get these earrings"

''I hope they're being creative .. Just a blowjob wouldn't pay'' Harry laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist and bowing a little - she was on heels, they weren't so different in height now - to whisper;

''But I wouldn't mind buying you jewelry for every time you have your mouth full ' The woman blushed, biting her lip and looking at it boldly

''I'll have an arsenal of them then'' Before he could make any further comments, their names were called, and Rita Skeeter was right there in front, smiling from ear to ear

''Mr and Mrs Potter.'' Her false tone got to make Harry sick ''As always; admirable'' Rita blinked a few times at the diamond in Ginny's ears, almost approaching to assess the jewel ''It would be an honor to have an interview with you, there are several fans who are dying to know more details of the wedding of two such important...wizards'' She looked up and down at Ginny, as if assessing whether she was worth it that much.

Because, she was always Harry Potter's girlfriend, and nothing more. Forget her career as a player, and all her other merits.

''I can only say it will be luxurious'' Ginny commented, as much as it was a lie ''Nothing more'' She smiled falsely ''And even, I remember putting your name on the list'' Rita seemed to be excited, eyes and puffing out the chest

''We have an extensive list, you see, but we don't forget you'' Harry assured

''It's a great honor-- ''

'' --The list, of course, forbidden people'' The redhead smiled from ear to ear ''Now, if you'll excuse me ... ''

I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined I check it once, then I check it twice, oh! Look what you made me do

 ''She spoke shit of our marriage for a week'' Harry sighed ''I have never been so sad''

''She made me do that'' Ginny shrugged. ''That dress really made me beautiful. I hate you for tearing it up'' She slapped her husband on the back, who was laughing against her warm skin.

''You didn't look angry when I did that. In fact, I remember you groaned a lot. We had complaints from neighbors underneath''

''Living in a building was the worst idea ever'' Harry nodded, getting back on her chest, smiling at the feeling of being at home. ''She asked me for help\ last week''

"Who?"

''Rita'' Ginny laughed ''Maybe that's why today's story, she must be mad since I refused to help her''

I don't like your kingdom keys They once belonged to me

 ''Me and you?'' Ginny spoke a little disappointed, looking at the empty room and then at the woman in front of her ''I work at the sports session, Rita''

"But I need you to help me, Chudley Cannons has this new player and .."

'' ..I won't intercept them for you, do your dirty work alone'' The blonde nodded, looking unexpectedly like a demon from those muggle movies she and Harry had been watching

''My job is not dirty, Mrs Potter, it is as worthy as yours'' Ginny laughed, staring at her with an even worrying calm, seeing that lying red face in front of her ''We should unite here, be solidary with the other.''

''A job that consists of being invasive in the lives of others and making up lies, is not a worthy job, Mrs. Skeeter'' The last name looked like poison on her lips ''The last time I helped you, my name ended up in a not so friendly story about a naked photo of me that they had taken and were trying to sell around ... It seems that you didn't think much about the 'female sorority' before launching the article defaming me''

''I don't invent anything'' Ginny nodded sarcastically, turning away and heading back to her work area

''I'm sure not ... But thank me Rita, for not writing gossip'' Then she looked over her shoulder, still seeing her standing there ''I would have great topics to comment on''

 You asked me for a place to sleep Locked me out and threw a feast (what?)

 ''I think they're going to fire her ... Beau has also been walking the tightrope for the past few days'' She dropped the newspaper, lying on the bed and coming face to face with Harry, rubbing his face and sighing tiredly ''Not that I care, it's just Karma''

''Definitely'' The husband kissed the tip of her nose, then the cheeks, until he reached her mouth, smiling and winking still a little sleepy ''The guy who sold the photos is still in prison. I went to Askaban yesterday and saw him, he looked a little crazy and upset when he saw me. The guards say he started having nightmares about me killing him.''

''Urgh, can't this family stay away from the drama for even a second? If Beau listens, you can be sure that tomorrow is the first page dedicated to that. "Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world or a torturer of defenseless poor people?"

''He's definitely not a helpless poor. And he's lucky that I didn't find him, because I would have left him with more damage than just a cut on his shoulder'' The green eyes darkened, and Ginny knew he wasn't horny ''They treated him so lovingly I even thought they would give him they own bed for him to spend the night ... While you can't leave the house for a week!''

''It's an unfair world, babe'' And as if that still didn't torment her, Ginny kissed her husband, relieved by the feeling that ran through her, as if the tension had evaporated away and only the two existed

 The world moves on, another day, another drama, drama But not for me, not for me, all I think about is karma

 ''But I have you, my great savior'' She kissed him again, less deeply this time ''Some guys told me I deserved it ... You know, for whatever shit they believe I did. Michael met me on the street and said it was just me reaping what I planted.'' Harry rolled his eyes, sighing and seeming to control any instinct to leave their bed and go after each one

''I hate them so much'' Ginny nodded ''Last week a trainee made a joke about your poster is on the bedroom wall, facing the bed. I don't think he wanted me to hear'' His wife laughed, throwing her head back and happy that he could break the tension ''I'm serious, he affected having seen death''

 '' ..I leave it facing my bed, because you know, don't you? Lonely nights and everything'' Harry took a deep breath, already being spotted by the freshman's other colleague, who was as white as paper looking over the boy's head, his eyes wide.

''If you continue like this, only what you will have will be lonely nights'' Then his malicious laugh stopped, and Harry even doubted that his breath was gone.

''Erm .. Sorry, Har ... Mr Potter'' The boy turned around, looking much more like one of their children when they were caught tampering with something where it shouldn't have been, not as an auror in training.

''Not that you should apologize to me, it wasn't my ass that you were using as an aid to wanking ... But hopefully next time, it will appear in your mind and leave it soft enough to not want to play for a week'''

 And then the world moves on, but one thing's for sure

Maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours

''He's still not looking me in the eye'' Ginny was still laughing, trying to contain the noise so as not to wake her children but looking almost impossible

''I really hope he saw your ass instead of mine .. Not that yours is ugly, I love her'' She kissed the tip of his nose, reaching down to squeeze the naked flesh ''All round and perfect'' Another kiss

''But it wasn't the one he wanted to see'' Ginny nodded, letting her be hugged ''I'm sorry for all this meddling''

''You don't have to apologize for anything, they're the ones who are fucking invasive. I accepted that life back in my fifth year, when you kissed me, and it wouldn't change a single point of my decisions '' The two looked at each other, Harry looking much more naked than he really was, blinking those beautiful green eyes in her direction, with a slight smile on his face

''I love you ... even if you are just here to steal my fortune, or if you are looking to get away with someone else ... ''

"... Or that I'm keeping you under the Love Potion?" Harry laughed, nodding

''Yes, I still love you so much'' Ginny smiled, even after all these years, still blushing shyly

''You look so romantic after I fuck you good'' He shrugged

"That's what they say ... But they say a lot, they already said they couldn't trust me when I was only 15 years old."

'' ..And today they use your opinion as a guide'' Ginny reminded him ''They always seem so sorry when you talk about the war'' Not that Harry talked much, but there was always a lecture here or there, and rather intrusive questions on the anniversary that marked the end. ''Rita always seems sorry about that time, but I never know if it is because we discovered her cover or just because there is a little humanity in her ... Anyway, I don't trust her at all. Not that she trusts me too much, of course. ''

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me

I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

Harry laughed softly, running his fingers over her cheek and outlining his wife's face, as if he wanted to frame her to never forget. Ginny took a hand on her cheek, kissing the scar he had acquired in the fifth year, as if to prove that they were there now. Better. Alive

''The date is coming ... What will they all write this time?'' Ginny shrugged, interlacing her fingers with his and approaching her husband, wrapping her bare leg around his waist

"Some shit that will make somebody cry and say 'he was just a kid!' while they congratulate you and frighten our children'' Our children, it was one of the things he would never tire of listening to. Harry chuckled, relaxing against her, laying his head back in the middle of her soft breasts, being surrounded by that heady scent that he would never get sick of.

''Isn't it crazy to think that Teddy is already so big? We're getting old ''

''Oh, don't say that too loud, magazines love to remind us of that. Last week a magazine said I should cut my hair again to 'look younger'.'' Harry laughed, running his fingers over the red strands that were on the pillow, not as long as when they were teenagers, but not as small as when she was played, but still incredibly beautiful.

''We're not the same anymore, are we?'' She doesn't need to ask what exactly he was talking about. The war had changed everyone, but Ginny and Harry would never be forgotten about their changes, even if she cut her hair and he let his hair grow, there would always be a gossip magazine reminding them who they once were. Students leading a movement against the Ministry, teenagers having to deal with things that not even an adult would handle well, among thousands more.

''It would be impossible to be'' She smiled a little colorless, before her maternal instinct warned her ''James woke up.'' And the alone and comfortable moment was over, the two of them picked up their fallen pajamas by the bed and they dressed at impressive speed, much faster and more prepared than when they were young and didn't want to be caught by Molly. Her mother was much more understandable than a 7-year-old son, under locked doors

They would never be the same again.

I'm sorry, the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now

Why?

Oh, 'cause she's dead! 

 ''Good morning, mate'' Harry unlocked the door when the little one knocked, waving him to come to bed with them, as he knew it was his wish

''Morning'' he murmured sleepily, still looking sleepy, scratching his brown eyes and crawling on the sheets to stay in the middle, laying his head on his mother's chest like a baby, before going back to sleep calmly. Ginny kissed his slightly sweaty hair and hugged the small body that was now glued to hers.

''How long until the other two come too?'' She whispered, laughing softly as ahe tried to hear if there was noise from the other rooms as well.

''A few minutes'' Harry didn't look sad ''We can still run away ... We took them all and we were gone for a week'' Ginny laughed, denying and using her free hand to ruffle her husband's hair

''You could never do that'' She unmasked him ''But we can get away after an interview, I know the kids will love it ... ''

 [...]

When the day came, there were, as always, reporters, cameras and people everywhere. It seemed that they never got tired of questioning every morbid detail of what the trio had been through in those years at Hogwarts.

But before the second interview started, Harry simply apparated with his whole family out, leaving everyone gaping when the six Potter (because Teddy would always be a Potter) simply disappeared, waving to the journalists before landing at the beach house of them, not far from London, but hidden enough that no one could find them.

"Tomorrow this will be on the cover of magazines" And it was.

''I do not care. They forced me to do this.. Ask about all the shit I went through? I do not care. Tease the kids?'' He waved to the kids running from Teddy who claimed to be a monster, laughing and screaming loudly, looking a lot less tense than they did a few minutes ago, when five journalists surrounded they to ask questions. ''I don't accept'' Harry would never let them take away their peace.

 ''Harry Potter, the wizard who saved the world or just a man in need of attention?

Harry Potter, 32, First Order of Merlin, Chief of Aurors, attended the Annual Anniversary Meeting of the End of the Second Witch War, with his wife Ginny Potter, his sons James, Albus and Lily Potter, as well as his godson Edward Lupin (known like Teddy). After the first interview (see more on page 15) the wizard who saved the world looked irritated when some questions started to be asked, and simply apparated the whole family out.

What does the editor of this newspaper think of this? Of two things, one; does the wizard who saved the world need attention and need his name back in the tabloids, or is it just a way to make everyone forget the possible betrayal he committed (see more on page 18) last Friday? ''

Look what you made me do

[the-kaedageist]

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” [what else could this be but widomauk?] xoxo

God, what a beast you spawned with this prompt. I haven’t even written Widomauk before!

Widomauk, #31: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” (1,928 words because WHAT)

The tavern was in a secluded part of Rosohna two blocks away from the Xhorhaus, sheltered in between a blacksmith’s shop and a large building that looked like it fulfilled some sort of need for municipal bureaucracy. Mollymauk located it at the end of his first two weeks of returning to the loving arms of the Nein, noting its presence on some sort of errand he was running with Beau, and within three days he found himself sitting at the counter, halfway to the bottom of a bottle of wine and trying not to think about red hair and blue eyes.

The first thing Molly had noticed was that Caleb was different. The whole group was, of course; they fit together like a puzzle, the sharp edges sanded down. The Nein felt like a family, and Molly wasn’t sure that there was still a place for him among their ranks, not anymore. Caleb’s changes weren’t even the most profound – that award obviously went to Veth, with her mischievous halfling smile and her avoidance of alcohol – but it was the change that went straight to Molly’s gut. Caleb smiled more. He was clean and had grown his hair long. He was as handsome as Molly had suspected, so long ago. However, past Caleb had been too much of a mess to be worth pining after.

This time, Molly was drinking his weight in wine, glancing around the bar looking for someone to take him home and distract him.

It wasn’t just Caleb, of course. It was resurrection – the last thing he’d wanted – and the avalanche of memories that had returned with the reawakening of his body. It was being whisked halfway across the continent by Caleb’s magic to a city shrouded in darkness, the Nein’s new home, brought to a house filled with memories of him and a hot tub named with his initials.

It was realizing the person they remembered wasn’t quite the person he was, and worrying what they would do about that once they figured it out.

Thankfully, before Mollymauk could get too maudlin, a handsome drow entered the tavern. He was a tall man with the muscles of a soldier, distracting Molly away from his existential angst with a coy look. He took his wine and his low spirits and joined the man at his table, and banished all thought of existential despair – and attractive redheads – from his mind for the rest of the evening.

A week later, he was back. He didn’t drink as much, that time – Jester had teased him a bit about having to cure his hangover, and Molly didn’t want to risk the group thinking he hadn’t grown along with them. Another drow caught his eye this time, with an androgynous haircut and elegantly bejeweled ears, and Molly distracted himself quite heartily with them, not stumbling back home to the Xhorhaus until the early hours of the morning.

Caleb was waiting up, sitting out in the front of the house, his profile lit gently by the string of lights from Caduceus’s tree.

“Beau was worried,” Caleb said, his face unreadable.

“I’m fine.” Molly brushed past him and into the house, which was quiet and dark. Soft footfalls signaled that Caleb was following, and a moment later, three globes of light swirled in the air around him, lighting the downstairs interior.

“You keep leaving,” Caleb said stubbornly. “You didn’t even tell us where you were going.”

“I can take care of myself,” Molly told him, not appreciating the reminder that the rest of the team was now double his strength. He quickly climbed the stairs to the “guest room” which had become his own before Caleb could continue his scolding and was unconscious only a few seconds before his head hit the pillow.

The third time, he didn’t have the opportunity to pick up anyone.

“So this is where you go,” said a familiar accented voice as Molly glanced forlornly into his stein of ale. A moment later, Caleb seated himself heavily beside him, his hair gleaming almost too-bright in the candlelight. Molly looked away, catching the eye of the bugbear who was bartending. The bugbear, who had heard a bit too much about Caleb to make Molly completely comfortable, raised his eyebrows and brought Caleb some of the same ale without being asked.

“This is where I go,” Molly said awkwardly as Caleb took a sip of ale.

They drank comfortably in silence for a few moments, giving Molly time to study Caleb out of the corner of his eye. Caleb was comfortable, now, clever and confident and far more alive. He still wore trauma like a second skin, but it was also clear that being with the Nein had started him along the path of slowly healing. Molly wanted to watch him constantly, cataloguing all the ways he was different – and he wished he’d been present to watch the transformation in real time. Instead, he was still the same shitty charlatan, low-level and up to his ears in lies and bullshit memories.

It wasn’t until he’d finished his first ale and started on a second that Caleb turned to speak. “What is wrong, Mollymauk?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t send Caduceus out to fetch me,” Molly said, staring into his stein. “Isn’t that his role in the group? He sorts the rest of you out?”

“We are all capable of sorting the others out,” Caleb said, a hint of a grin at the corner of his mouth. “We just, most of the time, choose not to.”

Molly didn’t want to think about the fact that he’d died and been replaced by a competent cleric who was clutch in battle. He drained his ale to the bottom of his stein and held it up. The bugbear bartender, by now a dear friend, gladly filled it back up and took the proffered coin.

“Are you going to tell me?” Caleb asked. The strangeness of it – Caleb trying to help, Caleb here next to him, dressed in Xhorhasian fine clothing with his hair drawn back into a soft ponytail, Caleb’s body thrumming with power even beneath the surface – struck Molly all at once, and he took in a deep breath for courage.

It would be so easy, to turn around and look Caleb deep in the eyes and be honest. To tell him he was feeling out of place, broken into tiny pieces, empty once more. To flat-out admit that he didn’t know if he was really the person the Nein had remembered for all this time.

Instead, he chose the easy way out, because it was what Mollymauk Tealeaf did. Oh, he put on a good show, putting on a saucy pout and trying to slur his words more than necessary, but he still made a choice not to confront the real elephant in the room.

Instead, he steeled himself and said, “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

He watched the gears turn behind Caleb’s gaze. This was it. Caleb would give him a look of disgust or sadness and leave him to his own pity party. Caleb, whose boundaries were practically an armored bastion, would never let this sort of comment pass.

Caleb was staring at him, mouth agape. He shook himself slightly. “You’ve been…kissing strangers, pretending that they’re me?”

It wasn’t a lie, but the dumbfoundedness seemed a bit over the top. Caleb was stupidly hot. Was it that hard to believe? “It’s been difficult. You don’t really look like a drow.”

Caleb wheezed a bit beside him, and it took Molly a minute to realize he was laughing.

He didn’t even think he’d seen Caleb laugh, before.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb said, waving a hand in his direction. “I’m not laughing at you. I just…yes, I can imagine I do not look like a drow.” He met Molly’s gaze with some intensity, surprising him. “I’m also sorry you have felt the need to…play make-believe.”

Something bitter twisted inside Molly, his expression growing sour. “You don’t have to patronize me,” he muttered, dragging his gaze away. He took one last gulp from his ale and set it down. “I’m sorry you drew the short straw and came to fetch me. I’ll let you finish your drink in peace.” He started towards the door, fully intending to stumble out into the night and go find another tavern to drink in. Maybe he’d go dancing.

A hand caught his around the wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He turned to find Caleb watching him. “I did not draw the short straw,” Caleb said, his voice quiet but intense. “You mean a lot to all of us, Mollymauk. I have been worried about you. I have been through much, but I have never been dead and brought back to a world changed.”

Molly didn’t meet his eyes. “It sucks,” he said.

“I dreamed of you,” Caleb said conversationally. “For months, afterwards. You haunted all of us, but me, especially.” He gently tugged Molly back in to sit on the barstool on his other side, facing him. “I never—I was not in a place, where I could have—but I think I knew.” Despite the incoherence of his words, there was a confidence in his shoulders as he leaned over and pressed his hand to Mollymauk’s heart. It was beating so intensely that Molly was sure that Caleb could feel it through all the layers of clothing. “There was a connection, between us.”

“There was,” Molly said faintly. Gods, how the tables had turned.

Caleb gave him a wry smile. “I spent months thinking how to give back the gift you gave me,” he said. “Now, we have gifted it back ten times over. We have all grown and changed, surpassed the people we were originally and become something more. And you are one of us, as you always have been. You will have your chance to grow into us too.”

Caleb grasped Molly’s face between his own and Molly’s mouth went dry. For a moment, he thought Caleb was going to kiss him, and those blue eyes did stray momentarily to Molly’s mouth as though he was thinking about it. Instead, Caleb leaned over and pressed his lips to the center of Molly’s forehead, a parody of a moment long ago, in a mineshaft in the Marrow Valley with flames all around them.

“You’re one of us,” Caleb said, “And I don’t know the person you’ll become, but I am interested to find out.”

Molly felt his eyes fill with tears, unbidden and unwanted. He quickly blinked them away.

Caleb released his face, leaning back on his stool and studying him. “If you are still looking for people to kiss,” he continued slowly, as though he couldn’t quite believe the words were leaving his mouth, “I do not think you will need to pretend, any longer.”

Mollymauk stared at him, barely able to hear the sounds of the other patrons of the tavern over the hammering of his heartbeat.

He swallowed hard. “Well then, Mr. Caleb,” he said, the old playful nickname tasting almost foreign on his tongue. He leaned forward on the barstool, knocking their knees together and slowly leaning his forehead against Caleb’s to give him time to move away if he chose. Caleb watched him with wide eyes, but didn’t flinch. Instead, he glanced back down at Molly’s mouth, licking his lips.

“Yes, Mr. Mollymauk?” he asked, a bit of a waver in his voice.

“You talk too much,” Mollymauk said right before he kissed him firmly.

Give me a dialogue prompt!

[itcameuponamidnightqueer]

Beaujes prompt? First kiss?

and you stood at your door with your hands on my waist,and you kissed me like you meant it.and i knew that you meant it(that you meant it)

//

“Talk to her,” Fjord says, his words dripping with more than a little frustration.

You roll your eyes and fling a handful of sand back at him.

It’s new, this thing you do together. Caduceus is so good at meditating, so comfortable with being still. But you and Fjord—the son of no one and the daughter of too many—are still struggling with it. He seems very intent on establishing himself as a proper follower of Melora, someone who takes time to consider his role and relationship with his god. Fjord is settling nicely into piety, and you simply need to learn how to exist comfortably inside yourself.

So most mornings you sit together wherever you are, even if it’s just for a few minutes. You have coats and furs when there’s snow, the shelter of trees for rain, boulders to shield against strong winds. No matter the weather, you find time to be calm with each other.

And so you find yourself on a beach in Nicodranas, sitting back-to-back with one of your first friends, watching the sun rise over the ocean. This is your favorite place in the entire world, and only slightly because of the place itself.

Fjord is breaking protocol by speaking but you’re not too bothered; you were itching to move anyway.

“It’s not—it’s stupid,” you mumble. “But I can’t.”

“Beau, if anyone can talk to Jester—and really, anyone can—it’s certainly you.”

“No, I know, but like—” You dig your hands into the sand and clam up, digging as much as you can within your reach until you find a rock. It’s a small one, and you’re too far away from the water to make it in, but you throw it anyway.

“Do you think you’ll ruin your friendship?” Fjord prods.

You’ve thought about that before, when you first told Nott about your crush on Jester. It used to worry you but it doesn’t anymore, not after spending time with Jester afterwards without noticing any changes. Certainly there were changes on your end—feelings sit differently within you once you’ve said them out loud—but Jester was the same, cheery and understanding and so, so bright. She relaxed you immediately even if she didn’t know she was doing it.

“No,” you finally reply. “But it’s like—remember how Yasha was once we got her back? Like, how it just seemed like she was waiting for one of us to beat her up and she kind of flinched whenever we smiled? It’s like that.”

“I don’t follow.”

You sigh. “Whatever she feels, Jester is going to be so nice about it, and I—I can’t handle that, man.”

“So you’re just going to suffer in silence?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Jester yells, and you’re more startled than you should be. You whip around to see that she’s maybe thirty feet away, smiling and carrying a plate of donuts.

You elbow Fjord as hard as you can without Jester noticing. “You couldn’t warn me she was coming?” you hiss. “I’m gonna make you suffer.”

“Oh, I’m quaking in my boots,” Fjord responds monotonously. But you feel him rubbing his side, and you’re soothed.

You get up and dust off your pants, walking over to Jester to take the plate from her hands. “Nothing, Jes,” you say with a smile. “Just meditating.”

“Okay.” She hugs you, squishes in closer the way she does when she’s cold and wants to steal your warmth. You can’t fight a smile even as you roll your eyes, hugging back with the hand not holding the plate. As she pulls away she presses a kiss to your cheek, leaving behind a few sugar crystals; you wonder if maybe that was closer to the corner of your mouth than she intended.

“Uh…”

“Good morning, Beau!” she chirps. 

“Yeah, mornin’.”

Jester hugs Fjord with the same enthusiasm; he gives you a very deliberate look over Jester’s shoulder and you furiously shake your head.

“Are you guys about to work out or can we eat a big sugary breakfast?”

You should say no. You should stick to your training. Your body is your weapon and you can’t run the risk of letting it malfunction.

Your father and the monks trained you to be hard—for Jester, you will endure sentiment and sweetness.

“We can take a day off, I guess.”

Fjord quickly pumps his fist as the three of you sit down, plate of breakfast pastries in the middle as you all face each other. Jester immediately grabs the biggest one and smiles at you as she takes a bite, her eyes twinkling as if she knows a very good secret.

It takes everything you have not to visibly swoon. From the way Fjord coughs, you think maybe you did anyway.

Fuck, you have to talk to her.

/

But Jester sweeps you up in her energy the same way she always does, pulling you along for the ride and allowing you to forget, even for a few hours, about the part of you that is going to explode one of these days.

Every time you’re in Nicodranas, Jester wants to be outside, to do something fun or show you some special, secret place. But you’re just as happy to stay inside as long as you’re with her, so you don’t mind when it starts to rain and the two of you hole up in her bedroom.

It’s just as chaotic as Jester is, which isn’t a surprise. There are drawings and figurines shoved into drawers and shelves, worn and well-read books piled wherever there’s room. Organized chaos, but chaos nonetheless. You smile to yourself over the next few hours as you imagine Jester at the Cobalt Soul, frustrating every monk who might have tried to rein her in. Not even Dairon has that much patience, you’d wager.

As the afternoon wears on into evening and the rain doesn’t stop, both of you mellow out, setting aside card games and childhood mementos for storytelling. You never had any of this growing up, the kind of bonding that comes at night when people are relaxed and close to each other. You got along with some kids at school but your father was too protective to let you out of the house even for a night. Eventually, your friend group tightened and moved on without you.

You never really missed it until Jester, until you found someone with whom you deserved to share quiet nights.

“Beau?”

Your head bounces a little from where it rests on Jester’s stomach as she speaks. You’re both laying down—Jester vertically, her ankles crossed over each other, and you horizontally, so you can bounce a rubber ball off her wall. Using her as a pillow is just an added bonus, really, and you’re sure she would have suggested it if you hadn’t assumed.

“Hm?”

“We haven’t really talked about, well, about Kamordah, and I totally understand if you don’t want to, I really do, but—we’re best friends, right?”

“‘Course we are.”

“And best friends should be able to say everything to each other, even the hard things.”

You catch the ball and don’t throw it again. “Especially the hard things,” you say, trying very hard to calm your quickening pulse.

“Okay.”

Jester rests her hands near your head, absently tickling your hairline whenever her fingers get close enough.

“What’s up, Jes?”

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?” she asks, tripping over her words.

You crinkle your brows. “What, like to stay? Not a chance.”

“No, no; not to stay. But, family is complicated and I know your dad is a shitbag. He doesn’t deserve you, any part of you, and I wanted to punch him so much…” Jester takes a calming breath or two; you turn your head and look up at her, at the way she consciously works to relax her pursed lips. You can’t help laughing when she catches your eye.

She smiles back and scratches your forehead on purpose this time.

“You would be such a good big sister,” Jester says, her eyes soft and sincere. “You’re so good, Beau—you’re so, so good—and you deserve the chance to give that to someone.”

“What do you think I keep you around for?” you tease.

By the way she looks at you, you think maybe Jester didn’t take it as teasing.

“Right,” she says, laughing halfheartedly. “It’s stupid; I shouldn’t tell you how to feel about your family.” She sits up on her elbows and looks out of the window, sighing when the rain doesn’t stop. “Sorry we’ve been stuck inside all day.”

You hum, just a little noise to show you’re there, that you’re listening. You want to pull her fingers down and tangle them with yours.

“What would you do,” you ask gently, “if you had a sibling?”

“Oh my gosh.” Jester huffs out a large breath; you can practically see the swirl of images and fantasies that must be playing in her mind. “I would teach them so much, like how to steal food from the kitchen or sneak up on Bluud or how to prank Mama’s clients, except I would make sure they were better at it than I was so they wouldn’t get caught.”

“You’d still want to get caught?”

“Well, yah,” Jester says, like it’s the most obvious answer. “If I hadn’t gotten caught, Mama wouldn’t have sent me away and I wouldn’t have found you. It’s like, I guess it’s like you and the Cobalt Soul only with less kidnapping.”

“Mm. Yeah, that’s a good thing to not have in your life.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have needed the Traveler if I had a sibling,” Jester muses. Maybe the Traveler wouldn’t have needed you, you think, but that’s a conversation for another day.

“That’s okay, though,” she continues. “I found most of this stuff on my own anyway.” She gestures to the knick-knacks that litter the room. “I guess it sounds stupid, when I put it like that. Wanting a sibling just so I can show them pranks.”

“Are you kidding? That’s exactly what siblings are made for.” You sit up and try not to jostle Jester too much. You look around the room, taking stock of all the stolen trinkets and homemade crafts. “Here, okay.” You stand and reach for a music box on Jester’s bedside table. “This? This is the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

You cross the room and reach for a figurine on top of Jester’s bookcase that seems to be made of dried fruit and noodles. “This?” you say, pointing to it with an exaggerated finger. “Also the coolest fucking thing. And this?” You reach for a small ceramic owlbear, holding it between two knuckles as the noodle-man rests in your palm. “Absolutely fucking rad. This whole room is full of memories, Jes. Even if you only wanted a sibling just to share this stuff….what a gift, man. There’s like—” You flip the owlbear into the air and catch it on the back of your hand. “I could spend a whole day in here, just to listen to you tell me the stories of how you got all these things.”

You shove your hands in your pockets and look around at the piles and stacks of brightly colored novelties. Something buzzes inside your chest, a forgotten yearning. “Maybe I will go back again,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

But Jester is waiting for you when you turn back around. She’s standing so close you’re not sure how you didn’t hear her sneaking up on you.

“Do you mean that?” she whispers. Your face falls at the heaviness in her cheeks, the worry and wet in her eyes.

“What, about Kamordah? I dunno,” you shrug. “Not for my parents, but TJ—”

“No.” Jester shakes her head. “No, not Kamordah. About—about all these stupid things.”

“Oh. Well, yeah.” You rock back on your heels a little. “Nothing’s stupid when it’s yours, Jes.”

She looks at you like she might cry, like she’s carrying entire worlds behind her eyes and they’re on the verge of spilling out. You think about the few people you’ve looked at like that—you wonder, just a little—but no—

Jester kisses you just as you’re trying not to get your hopes up.

It’s clumsy, little more than just a firm press of her lips, but it’s so—Jester is everywhere else, insistent and enveloping. She walks you backwards and your surprised when your back hits her door—surely you were floating a moment ago.

Jester rests her hands on your hips; she’s unsure where to put them, you can tell. You also couldn’t care less, and you wrap your arms around her and kiss her until you run out of breath.

“Fuck, Jes,” you huff, at the same time that she heaves and “Oh my god, Beau.”

Both of you laugh, quiet and special and only for each other. 

“Well.” You lick your lips, cup her cheek and swipe your thumb gently over the bridge of her nose. “We have some things to talk about.”

“Mhm.”

“But maybe, we could nap first?”

Jester smiles and nods, takes your hand and leads you back to her bed. You realize when you lie down that you’re still holding the two toys.

Jester lifts up her covers and waits for you to settle against her. You balance the owlbear and pasta-creature on her stomach and laugh as they immediately fall over.

“I’m gonna fall asleep soon,” you yawn, “but tell me a story first.”

Jester’s voice is just as warm as her arms, and when you sleep, you dream of her.

[matrixaffiliate]

Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Early Update! The autumn colors are coming in where I live and tomorrow my little family and I are going to go enjoy them. Which means you get an update a few hours early! The next chapter posts on Saturday, September 26th. :)

Chapter 11

Victoire managed to make it home after her family had gone to sleep, but she stayed up another hour on the phone with Ted. He'd made her promise that if she was going to drive herself home at one in the morning then she would call him once she was home.

But when Dom came in at nine and pounced on her bed, Vic's roughly six hours of sleep made her regret not giving into Ted's suggestion that it was late and she should just stay at his flat.

"Someone got home late," Dom sprawled out next to her, tugging down on the covers that Vic pulled over her head.

"If you knew I got home late why are you in here?" Vic threw her arm over her eyes and tried to get back to sleep.

"Because, I want to gossip with you about your new beau, obviously."

Vic felt the smile pull on her lips, even as she contemplated throwing a pillow at Dom for waking her up before she was ready.

"It was amazing, Dom."

Dom rolled onto her stomach and pushed Vic's arm away from her face.

"Did you kiss him?"

Vic didn't open her eyes, but she could feel the smile spreading across her face.

"Oh! Whatever could that smile mean?" Dom laughed. "Come on, Vic, I helped you pick out clothes and I did your hair and makeup!"

Vic finally batted her eyes open and smiled at her sister.

"Dom, it was amazing!"

"So, tell me!" Dominique shoved her.

"For starters, he called it a date." Vic smiled over at her sister.

"Ha! I knew it would be!" Dom cheered.

"And, he took me back to his flat after dinner," Vic rolled over to her side and propped herself up on her elbow.

"Oh, come on! Did you kiss him?" Dom moved to mirror Vic's position.

"We snogged and talked until one in the morning," Vic bit her lip and felt her toes curl at the memory of it all.

Dominique squealed loudly, "I knew it! I knew it! When are you seeing him again?"

"Today," Vic looked over at the clock on her wall. "I'm meeting him at his flat for lunch."

"Well then you should get up and get ready," Dom gave her a shove. "And while we're talking about how wonderful your night was; when do we get to meet your new lover boy?"

Vic felt her stomach clench, "I don't know about that yet. No one knows that we're together or anything except you."

"Ooo, secret relationship, kinky," Dom poked Vic's side and laughed.

"Stop teasing me and let me get ready for the day," Vic gave Dom a half-hearted shove. "I won't be able to give you more gossip if I don't make it to lunch with him."

"Off I go," Dom jumped up and moved to the door, "but I expect a full report when you get home."

Vic just rolled her eyes and wondered if maybe Ted would mind if she showed up earlier than they had decided on.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Vic bit her lip as she knocked on Ted's door. She was nearly fifteen minutes early and she was hoping that he'd be pleased as opposed to annoyed.

"Couldn't stay away?" Ted teased as he opened his door.

Vic just laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Don't try to deny that you haven't been waiting on the edge of your seat for me to show up; you were the one trying to keep me here all night yesterday."

Ted shook his head as he grinned.

"Still so torturous," then he lowered his lips to hers.

Vic sighed into his mouth and pressed Ted back against the door frame.

"What the hell?!"

Ted's head whipped up and he pulled Vic closer to him, tightening his arms around her.

Vic looked with him toward the sound of the voice. To her surprise, Jamie stood staring at them with his mouth hanging down by his trainers.

"What are you doing?!"

"Welcoming Vic to my flat," Ted rolled his eyes. "Did you need something, Jamie?"

"You two are together?" Jamie's eyes were still wide.

Vic laughed, "Yes Jamie, now did you need something or can I go back to snogging my boyfriend?"

Jamie shook his head, "I was just going to see if Ted could help me with an assignment, but er, I think I'll see if maybe anyone else can help."

Ted chuckled, "Text me before you show up the next time, mate."

"You're as bad as Mum and Dad," Jamie shook his head, "I'll see you later."

He gave them one more incredulous look before turning and hurrying back down the stairs.

"Looks like the cats out of the bag," Vic chuckled.

"Did you mean it?" Ted brought his nose to nuzzle against hers.

Vic closed her eyes and hummed as she tried to kiss him, but he moved his lips to her ear.

"Did you mean to call me your boyfriend?"

Vic smiled and leant in to murmur in his ear.

"If you think I'm girlfriend material."

Ted moved his lips down her jawline and Vic felt her breath catch.

"I think you're quite a bit more than just girlfriend material," he murmured against her lips. Then he smirked. "You're author material and editor material and chocolate eater material and…"

Vic giggled and cut him off by pressing her lips to his.

"Take your girlfriend inside and make her some lunch, won't you?" She pulled back a moment later.

"So demanding," Ted stole one more kiss before pulling them inside.

"Do you think Jamie's going to broadcast this to both our families?" Vic asked as Ted moved with her into the kitchen.

"Oh, knowing Jamie, we can count on it." Ted rolled his eyes.

"Are you alright with that?"

Ted paused as he pulled out a box of pasta from the cupboard. He turned and leant back into the counter, gripping the edge behind him.

"I guess I should explain that my family more or less knows about you already."

"Did you text them all this morning or something?" Vic laughed.

Ted gave a nervous chuckle before looking down at the floor.

"Er, no, but, while we worked together, and especially after you got engaged to Sean, I went to them for support, told them a bit about what the situation was, asked for advice, that sort of thing."

Vic felt her stomach clench.

"Did, did that by chance, include my Uncle Harry?"

Ted rubbed the back of his neck, "Yep."

"Oh," Vic fell into a chair at the kitchen table, "How, how much does Harry know?"

"Only that I told you I loved you back in January," Ted finally looked up at her. "And I told him to keep it on my side of the family, it shouldn't have gotten around to your side."

"So, no one on your side knows that we kissed?" Vic bit her lip and started to wring her hands.

"None of my family, no," Ted looked down again, and his tone quieted.

"Wait, does someone on your side know?"

"Just a friend, she listened to me when I was freaking out about being such an arse for kissing an engaged woman."

"Oh," Vic nodded, "I guess I should tell you that I told my mum that I had kissed you, but I didn't give her much more than that. I told Sean I kissed someone, but he doesn't know it was you."

"I appreciate that," Ted's grip on the counter behind him was turning his knuckles white.

Vic rested her head in her hands and took a deep breath.

"Are, are we alright?" Ted's voice was quiet, timid even.

"I don't know," Vic sighed, "I just didn't think this part through, you know? I sort of thought that once we were together it would be sunshine and roses or whatever they advertise in those princess movies."

"Do you fancy yourself a princess?" Ted chuckled.

Vic turned and gave him a small smile, "Not at the moment, no."

Ted let out a long breath before pushing off the counter and coming to sit next to her at the table, grabbing her hands as they tried to rub her fingers raw and lowering them to the table with his.

"Vic, I know this is going to make things weird and awkward to some extent, but the best day of my life was yesterday, and I don't want to lose this a second time; I don't want to lose you."

Her chest ached as she tried to figure out what she wanted, how she wanted this to go. If she could only turn back time and dump Sean the day Ted started at Bread & Butter, maybe this wouldn't be so hard. Maybe she and Ted would have had a normal build-up to a relationship. Maybe this wouldn't feel like everyone knew that she'd been having an emotional affair for the last six months of her relationship with Sean. Maybe she'd feel less like she was tarnished in everyone's eyes.

"Vic?"

She lifted her eyes from their clasped hands and met his gaze, rich amber meeting deep blue.

"I'm not leaving," she sighed, "It just feels like now everyone knows what sort of girl I am."

Ted blinked.

"What?"

Vic shook her head and looked back down.

"Ted, you can't deny that I'm not going to be highly favored in your family, or with that friend that listened to you talk through what happened. You can't pretend like they aren't going to question whether I'll be faithful to you since I wasn't to Sean. What happened didn't paint me in the best light."

"Stop," Ted shook his head. "Vic, no, you've got it all wrong. You're amazing! There's no way they won't see that."

Vic shook her head, "I appreciate that you think I'm not a slag."

"Anyone who does is going to meet my fist," Ted growled.

Vic gave him a small smile, "I'm not going anywhere, I just think that your family might wish I would."

"They won't," Ted squeezed her hands.

Vic didn't believe him; she didn't see how anyone couldn't see what was happening and not immediately point out how manipulative her actions were. Especially when Ted and Harry were the only kids from that generation. How could these people not be protective of Ted?

"Hey," Ted brought a gentle knuckle to her chin and guided her face back up to his. Then he leant in and brought their lips together, all warmth and reassuring; his hand came to cup her face as his lips slanted over hers, holding her, pulling her closer.

"We're going to be ok," he smiled when he pulled back. "And I think that my girlfriend was asking for some lunch made by her boyfriend a moment ago, and I'd like to deliver on that."

Vic finally laughed, "Want a hand?"

"I'd love one."

Vic followed him to the counter and tried to ignore the knot that formed in her stomach, the knot that stayed throughout the rest of the day.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Vic made it home earlier than she had the previous night, which meant her family was still awake.

"Back before the crack of dawn, I see," Louis teased.

Vic gave a nervous chuckle.

"Be nice to your sister," her dad chided, "She always lets us know where she is and if she's staying where she is."

"If she had her own place, she could do whatever she wanted," Dominique chimed in.

"You only want her to move out so you can switch rooms." Louis shot back.

"She has the better view of the ocean; of course, I want to switch rooms."

"Well, if one of the leads Aunt Ginny has for me works out, maybe you will get to switch rooms with me." Vic moved to the stairs. Dom winked at her.

"Or you just move in with this bloke," Louis called as she started to climb.

"Louis!" Her mum swatted him with her magazine.

"Ouch! Maman!"

Vic smiled, it didn't sound so bad, living with Ted. And based on the way everyone acted, it sounded like Jamie hadn't texted her family and told them everything. At least her cousin hadn't completely freaked out. But she was sure of one thing, Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry definitely knew.

But as she stepped into her room, Vic took comfort that at least they didn't know everything.

"Ma chérie," her mum tapped on the door frame.

"Hi Maman," Vic tried to breathe through the panic she felt that maybe her mum knew. Her mum tended to know everything.

"How was your date?" Fleur sat down on the foot of her bed.

Vic couldn't help the smile that grew across her face.

"It was lovely."

"And are you going to tell your poor maman who the lucky boy is?"

Vic bit her lip and looked down at what was left of her chipping blue nail polish, she'd conveniently left out the name of who she was with the last two days.

"Er, it's Ted, actually."

"The boy you worked with?" Her mum's smile was small but Vic could see it in her eyes that she was laughing.

"Yes," she sighed, "the one I worked with."

"Have you thought about the things I wrote down for you?"

Vic blinked. She hadn't looked at that page in her notebook since the first time she'd summoned the courage to read it.

"N-no, I mean, I read it back when you first wrote it, but, I, well I forgot about it." She finished lamely.

Fleur stood and moved to Vic's desk and retrieved the notebook.

"You and your desires are important," her mum read. "Have you thought about what you want, both now and in the future?"

Vic shook her head no.

"You are a good person. You are brave." Fleur continued, "Do you believe this?"

Vic swallowed and shook her head again.

"You must decide your life's story." Fleur set the notebook down. "What will you choose?"

Vic shook her head, "Maman, I don't get to just choose what my life is going to look like."

"No, ma chérie, you misunderstand me. You are not in control of what will happen in your life, but you are the leading lady. Life is going to send much your way, but you must choose how you react, you must choose what the story looks like. You have determined that because you are not the author, you must simply float along, doing nothing. This is not the case. Do your characters in your novel not help to shape their stories?"

Vic blinked, "No, because I write them."

Fleur pursed her lips, "Think about what I've said, ma chérie, you might find that it's different than you think it is. Youth often makes us believe that things are only as we perceive them, but often we are simply not seeing the whole picture."

Vic sighed as her mum moved to wrap her in her arms. Leave it to her mum to make everything sound like a riddle.

"Thank you, Maman."

"Of course, ma chérie, and when you feel ready, we'd love to meet your Ted."

Vic felt her face grin of its own accord.

"I'll talk to him."

"Good," Fleur kissed her cheek and then slipped back down the stairs.

Vic watched her go and shook her head. Why did people who had never written a story think they knew anything about writing? But before she could really brood over that, her phone rang.

"Hey, Ted," Vic fell back onto her bed.

"Whoa, you alright? That was a very dejected sounding hello."

Ted's voice was warm and comforting and Vic felt herself falling into the embrace of it.

"I just have very well-intending family members who think they know what they're talking about."

"Did Jamie tell your parents? Because I will dunk his head in a toilet or something."

Vic laughed, feeling her frustrations slowly fade to the back of her mind.

"No, no he didn't tell my family, I just, my mum seems to want me to find myself or something or other and she tried to use a writing metaphor, but my mum has never written a novel and it seemed like she was trying to point out what's been wrong with my story and I don't know, I'm just frustrated."

"I didn't know you thought something was wrong with your story."

Ted seemed focused on the wrong point, but Vic decided that she'd rather talk to him about her book than her family troubles.

"I, yeah, I know something is off, I just can't figure out what it is." She paused. "Before, before everything in January..."

"Vic, you don't have to dance around that," he interrupted. "You can say, 'before you kissed me while I was engaged' and it won't offend me."

She rolled her eyes, "Except when you include that I kissed you back."

Ted hummed, "Not like you did today."

"Will you focus," Vic laughed.

"Right, yes," Ted laughed with her, "You were saying that before you kissed me back with great reservation you were going to…"

Vic shook her head as she smiled.

"Yes, that I was going to ask you if you wanted to read the draft I have and let me know what you think?"

"I'd love to," Ted answered immediately. "Ooo do you have it printed off with red pen marks everywhere?"

"No," Vic laughed, "It's an online document, I'll send you a link."

She pulled her laptop to her from her night table and powered it on.

"I'm going to have to be careful," Ted's voice vibrated in her ear as she used her shoulder to keep her phone in place. "If I can read it on my phone then that means I can read it at work."

"You love your job," Vic rolled her eyes as she sent the email invite to view the doc. "And I doubt my little story is going to be that captivating."

"There's the first problem," Ted's voice was almost stern. "You need to think more highly of yourself, and what you create."

"Ted," Vic sighed.

"No, you're amazing and you need to believe you're amazing, Vic."

"Now you sound like my mum."

"Your mum sounds like a smart lady."

Vic laughed. "You're ridiculous."

"And you like it, so where does that leave us?"

Louis stuck his head in the door and nearly spooked Vic out of her skin.

"Vicky, Maman says dinner is ready."

"Thanks," Vic mouthed to her little brother.

"Well, I suppose that leaves us with me going to dinner like I'm still sixteen."

"I hope you're not still sixteen, I'll go to prison forever if you are."

Vic burst out laughing, "I repeat, you're ridiculous, and I need to go."

"Text me tomorrow, I'll start on your novel tonight."

Vic smiled as she pushed off her bed. "Thanks, have a good night."

"I'll do my best without you." Ted's voice betrayed his smirk.

"For heaven's sake, Ted, go make yourself some dinner or something!" But she couldn't keep from laughing.

"Alright, alright, enjoy your family, I'll talk to you soon."

They disconnected and Vic felt like maybe it wasn't so bad to have her family meddling in her life if she got to spend time on the phone teasing Ted as well.